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casper-writes-stuff · 5 years

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Fallen

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046148/chapters/47471281

Summary: Patton has Roman and he has Dolion. That's about it though, in the friendship department. Not a big deal though, that's all he really needs! Who cares if he gets picked on for his overly cheerful disposition when Dolion isn't around to shoot glares at everyone? Not him! In fact, he so doesn't care what other people think that- Yeah no, he usually ends up crying alone in his room when he feels lonely because Roman is always at rehearsals for some play or another and Dolion prefers to stay in his home alone after school to recharge for the next day.

That is, until he manages to catch the attention of one Virgil Ward, resident bad boy punk at the school who's rumored to have killed someone in the last school he was in and everyone avoids except for Student Body President Logan Thomas and resident biker gang member Remy Sanders.

Special thanks to @thetickleeraven for letting me write a fic inspired by their own fic, Rumored!!

Patton was a lot of things. He was friendly, he was what Roman described as “soft pastel”, he was a dad joke loving fiend according to Dolion. He was not, however, popular. This was evident by the avoidant students and sarcastic teasing from the more, actually popular, kids.

That was fine though, he had Dolion and Roman and that was really all he needed, right? Wrong apparently, since he usually got overwhelmed with loneliness after school when he was home alone after school, waiting for his parents to get home from work. His mom already starting her twelve hour shift at the hospital and his dad barely coming home because he was a workaholic at his everyday desk job.

It was quiet existence and not exactly something Patton wanted, being the extroverted teen he was, but that wasn’t really something he could control. So, every morning, he’d wake up, put on makeup to hide his red puffy eyes from crying to sleep the night before, put on a bright grin and give himself a pep talk.

“You, Patton Heart, have got this. You’re kind, you love your friends, your friends love you, you’ve got all you need. You’re smart! Getting straight A’s at school and having a four-point-o grade average is hard to achieve and you’ve got that! You’re incredible, you can do this!”

Usually, the pep talk worked and he could get on with his day, but sometimes, like today, the words felt fake. It’s okay though, he could fake it ‘til he made it. He was going to get through today too!

Patton pushed the little voice in his head telling him he couldn’t do this to the back of his mind, grabbed his backpack from his room and headed out the door to go next door before Roman left to pick up Dolion.

The walk was short but definitely needed to pick up Patton’s spirits as he felt his grin grow more genuine at the thought of getting to see one of his two best friends so early in the morning. Roman Prince was already locking up the house when Patton made his way through the gate, beaming at the drama nerd humming some Disney song to himself (was that Go the Distance from Hercules?).

“Hey Ro!” Patton said brightly, making Roman jump and fumble with his keys, the jingle abruptly stopping when they fell through his fingers to the concrete porch step.

Patton snickered and Roman playfully glared at him, bending down to pick up his keys.

“Must you do that every morning, Pattoff?”

“I dunno, do you gotta get startled every morning, Romoff?”

Roman sighed dramatically, walking past Patton and out to his red Hyundai Ioniq Hybrid (Patton had no idea what that was, but Roman was very insistent on saying the entire car brand or whatever it was).

“Honestly, you’d think with how often you scare me each morning I’d get used to you popping up out of nowhere, but no I’m always in different stages of getting ready when you come over!”

Patton rolled his eyes, readjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder before responding.

“Not my fault you’re inconsistent with getting ready. If you had a set routine I’m sure you’d get more used to it! I always come over at the same time every day, and I never know if you’re going to be still brushing your hair, putting on your makeup, or packing your bag.”

Roman stopped with the driver’s side door open to stare at Patton, as if just realizing something.

“Wow, you really do show up at the exact same time every day. Doesn’t the routine get a little boring?”

Patton shrugged, opening the door on his side and tossing his backpack on the floor before climbing in.

“It’s comforting, I guess? I dunno, I kinda like it though.”

Roman hummed as he climbed into the car with Patton, sticking his key into the ignition but not turning it and turning towards Patton.

“Didn’t you say once that routine wasn’t the healthiest for the human mind?”

Patton shrunk into his shoulders, staring out of the windshield.

“...yeah. The brain needs stimulation, and a regular routine bores the mind and makes depression more likely.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, but otherwise stayed quiet. Patton didn’t say anything else until Roman’s ringtone for Dolion started going off, Fall Out Boy blaring throughout the car.

Roman cursed and dug into his back pocket for his phone until he could answer the call, putting it on speaker so Patton could hear too.

“Yes, love?”

Dolion’s unamused voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Don’t you “love” me, you’re three minutes late in picking me up, Roman. School starts in five.”

Roman cursed again, setting his phone down on the center console while Patton snickered as they both buckled up.

“Did you seriously not even start driving yet? Do you want to be late again?”

Patton felt his heart jump into his throat at the reminder. If Roman made him late again that meant detention for Mr. Lendor because he was late yesterday but managed to get out of the punishment because he’d literally never been late before.

“Please step on it, Roman,” Patton whispered, sinking low in his seat at the thought of getting detention.

Roman gave Patton a weird look, Dolion already having hung up.

“Why? You usually advocate for safe driving.”

“I have Mr. Lendor first period, Roman. I was already late yesterday.”

Roman has a really bad habit of swearing, and usually, Patton would subscribe to the swear jar, but right now he actually agreed with the loud “Fuck!” that Roman let out as he pulled out of the driveway and stepped on the gas.

Patton ran into the school ahead of Dolion and Roman, quietly repeating crap to himself as he ran to the back of the school towards the English hall. Of course his first class had to be at the very back of the school! The bell rang thirty seconds before Patton slid into the classroom, his rubber soles squeaking against the linoleum flooring.

A bunch of kids starting snickering and whispering as Mr. Lendor handed Patton his detention slip, making his heart fall despite the heaving of his chest.

“I gave you a chance, Mr. Heart. I’ll be seeing you in Mrs. Montejo’s classroom after school.”

Patton nodded quietly, taking the slip before making his way to his seat in the front of the classroom, jamming the paper in the smallest pocket of his backpack before he pulled out his English textbook in dejection, opening it to the page written on the board. Today was going to be a long one…

And it honestly was. He’d had to run to every single class to make sure he was on time, getting warning shouts from teachers and angry ones from student’s he’d accidentally run into. He wasn’t usually in this much of a rush, but teachers kept holding him back after class to talk to him about this scholarship or that extra credit assignment and it was driving him insane!

He finally slowed down near his psych class, knowing Dr. Picani would be much more forgiving if he walked in a few seconds late than the rest of his teachers. His constant reference to cartoon characters definitely helped Patton get really into psychology.

Patton gave a genuine smile at Dolion when he met him in the hall, walking along with him to Psychology.

“You look like hell,” was Dolion’s first comment, making Patton snort at the abrupt honesty.

“I know. I’ve been running around all day. Teachers keep holding me back to talk about my grades.”

Dolion groaned. “You’d think with your perfect grades, rivalling only Logan Thomas, teachers would leave you alone.”

Patton heaved a sigh, nodding in agreement. “I know, but they want me to start thinking about colleges, even though it’s still only Junior year and I don’t entirely know if I want to be a therapist or work with pets!”

Dolion gave Patton a Look. “You’re allergic to cats.”

“Not severely!” Patton defended, entering the open door of the classroom with Dolion, taking a moment to smile at Dr. Picani before sitting in his seat just as the bell rang.

Of course, a minute after the bell rang, Picani hadn’t started teaching and that was because a certain student usually took two minutes after the bell rang to enter the class.

Patton shifted uncomfortably in the silence, Dolion already doodling in his sketchbook and not paying attention to anything but what he was doing. Patton sighed, resting his elbow on his desk before plopping his chin his hand while he waited for Virgil Ward to enter the classroom.

Virgil had a reputation. He always sat in the back of every classroom, regardless of seating arrangements, he skipped classes he didn’t like or feel like going to (which was saying something that he literally always showed up to Dr. Picani’s psychology class), he almost never spoke up and tended to insult whoever forced him to when he could.

He had also transferred to the highschool a year ago, and the rumor was that he had killed someone in his last school.

Patton didn’t think it was that extreme, otherwise he’d be in jail, right? Still, Patton couldn’t help but believe that maybe he had beaten someone up and gotten expelled or something and that had caused his transfer.

And right on time, Virgil sauntered into the classroom, his bottom lip dipping as he played with the piercing on it with his teeth.

Of course, there was also the fact that Virgil was incredibly attractive, with his piercings and tattoo sleeves and his ripped skinny jeans, his studded bracelets and black shirt and leather jacket. It was honestly ridiculous how hot the teen was.

And, instead of sitting in the very back, he always sat behind Patton.

Patton had grown used to it by now, what with the year being two-thirds of the way over, but it still gave him nervous butterflies. Whether it was from the tiny crush he had on him or the dangerous reputation he had, Patton never could tell.

He was just… he had control. He had friends too! Despite being labeled the dangerous bad boy everyone should avoid, everybody secretly swooned over him, and those that hated him didn’t dare make it known to his face and that was honestly just… so cool! It made Patton envious, but at the same time he admired him so much. He was friends with the actual smartest kid in school, Logan Thomas, and with resident biker gang member Remy Sanders.

Logically, pastel soft boy Patton, who wore pink and was one of the most sensitive kids in school shouldn’t be crushing on bad boy Virgil, but everything about him captivated Patton and he really couldn’t help it.

“Patton?” Dr. Picani said, making Patton blink back to reality.

“Um… yes?” he asked, sheepishly, making Picani raise an eyebrow.

“Can you tell me what HFD is?” he asked patiently, smiling knowingly as Patton flushed, realizing he had spaced out.

“High Functioning Depression. It’s uh… not actually a clinical diagnosis though, falling under Dysthymia instead....”

Dr. Picani nodded. “Exactly! People with HFD are found to be smarter than they were before, some psychologists find that people with HFD tend to throw themselves into their work, most claiming to be perfectionists before diagnosis.”

Patton breathed a sigh of relief when the attention was off him again, though now he was actually paying attention to what Dr. Picani was saying and taking notes. He’d have to ask someone for notes he may have missed, if he can find anyone. Dolion doesn’t usually take notes, and usually everybody else avoids him…

Sighing, Patton listened intently, trying not to let his mind wander off. He’d barely eaten today, so concentrating was difficult, maybe he should eat something when he gets home? His mom should have food ready when he gets home, if she decided to cook tonight. Though maybe not, she did mention having to go to work early today and wanting to get plenty of rest in his family group chat during lunch…

Before he knew it, the class was over and he’d once again barely paid attention, though it didn’t look like there was homework for this class at least. Hopefully he’d get a chance to go over someone’s notes during detention.

“Patton, if you wouldn’t mind staying for a minute?” Dr. Picani spoke up, making Patton sigh.

“Yeah, Dr. Picani?” he asked, forcing on a tired smile for the sake of his favorite teacher.

“Are you okay? You barely paid attention today. You had a faraway look in your eyes almost the entire class.”

Patton nodded, smiling more genuinely this time.

“Yeah, I’m okay! I’m just tired today is all, I was up late working on homework last night.”

Dr. Picani hummed to himself, tapping his chin.

“Can you do me a favor? I want you to research depression tonight, different types, as much as you can handle after all of your homework. Then I want you to come see me Monday after school and talk to me about what you learned, okay?”

Patton, feeling slightly confused, nodded. “Sure, Doctor. Can I ask why?”

“We’ll talk about that on Monday, Patton.”

Nodding, still confused, Patton turned to leave the room after Dr. Picani gestured for him to leave.

And then he noticed the time and he took off running through the halls again to get to the Spanish building outside. God, why was this school so big?

He barely made it into the classroom with a minute to spare, his rushed entrance gaining the attention of everyone there, including Virgil and Remy, the latter sporting a black eye that couldn’t even be completely covered by his shades. The former had bruised knuckles, and there was a third kid closer to the front of the classroom with a swollen nose and split lip.

“Kind of you to finally join us, Mr. Heart. Why don’t you take a seat next to Mr. Ward in the back and we can get started. I certainly hope you don’t make being late a habit.”

Patton bit back his response that he wasn’t late this time, deciding he didn’t really want to gain a reputation of fighting teachers and did as he was asked.

The butterflies in his belly returned, this time stronger, now that he was sitting right next to Virgil instead of in front of him. God help him, detention was going to be hard until he was able to focus on something else.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, detention has officially started. You’re not allowed to do anything except sit there and think. You all know the drill. I’ll be back here every fifteen minutes to check in on you.”

Patton held back a groan, slumping forward and hitting his head against the table. Being forced to think with nothing to do? Bad idea, Mr. Lendor. If he heard Patton’s regular thoughts when he was crying himself to sleep at night (not that he’d do that here, too many people), he doubted the teacher would make him do nothing.

“I know this is something you’re not used to, Mr. Heart, but you do need to face the consequences of your actions.”

Patton sat up to stare at Mr. Lendor in horror at being sought out, the snickering from the other students making Patton’s cheeks burn.

“Yes sir,” he muttered, sinking low in his seat as Mr. Lendor left the room.

The second the authority figure was gone, Remus, Patton’s regular tormentor switched desks from the front to the one right in front of him, sitting backwards in the chair with a wicked grin.

“Well helloooo~ Pattoff!”

Patton flinched, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Please don’t call me that, Remus.”

Remus pouted, pushing his cheek into his hand so one side of his face squished up.

“Awww, why not Pattoff? Aren’t we friends?”

Patton didn’t answer, staring at his desk and picking at a loose thread on his pastel yellow jean shorts.

Remus huffed at the lack of a response.

“So, what’d you do, baby? You’re never late to class, surely Mr. Lendor was sparing you? Did you get in a fight? Finally grow some balls and punch someone? I knew you were faking that ridiculous sensitivity of yours.”

“Leave him alone, Burke,” Virgil snapped, making Patton look over at the other in surprise, Remus doing the same.

“Aww, Virge sweetie, I’m sorry. Am I bothering your little toy? I didn’t know you laid claim on him,” Remus purred, only to jump in surprise when Patton stood up abruptly, smacking his hands against his desk.

Patton was glaring harshly at Remus, tears in his eyes.

“I am sick of your gross comments toward me Remus Burke. You have anger issues and an obsession with sex? Fine, but leave me the hell alone.”

And then he stormed out of the building, adjusting his route so that he could head home, whether or not Mr. Lendor was gonna give him another detention on Monday or not.

#jo writes #ts sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides #moxiety #platonic royality #platonic moceit #queerplatonic roceit #platonic analogical #platonic sleepxiety #aroace roman #aroace deceit #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #punk au #punk virgil sanders #punk virgil

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willowaudreykeyes · 4 years

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I’m Afraid, Your Cute And We’re Both Stuck; Let’s Cuddle

@surohsopsisofclouds asked for (red 11) Wings and (purple 12) Spirits from here and I took the ‘spirits’ prompt and just made it into a Haunted House/fears thing and I hope that’s alright

@sparrowofsong @5am-the-foxing-hour @ladyedwina

Pairings: Romantic Intrulogical, Background Romantic Roceit, Background QPR Patmile

Warnings: Swearing, wings, collapsing structure, claustrophobia (fear of tight spaces), mentions of thalassophobia (fear of the ocean), fluffiness, my fear that Remus isn’t in character by the end of this

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

Remus

Two stories tall, with dull brick walls and the occasional broken window. A stereotypical haunted house; recommended by Patton of course. If Virgil recommended one, it’d have reviews about a real ghost that made the rooms go cold and maybe a fork being thrown across the room. This place reeks of machinery and fake, money-grabbing tourism.

I glance up at the sound of wings, not fully turning towards it as I’d know my brother and best friend's wings anywhere. Roman has those huge angel wings that everyone swoons over because of their power and fluffiness; while Jan-Jan has awesome looking yellow-green scaled ones that he’s still self-conscious over since they’re often stereotyped to be with ‘evil’ people.

So now I’m surrounded by winged-ones. Patton’s Puffin wings press tightly against his back as the sound of shattering glass, that’s been happening every five minutes on the dot, while Virgil’s huge Wedge-Tail Eagle wings fluff up despite knowing that it was going to happen again. At least Roman and Janus didn’t react as much, despite it being a shock to them

“You two are being fucking pussies.”

“Language, Em! And the shattering sound is scary… I can’t help it.” Patton should have brought his life-partner with him as it’d be more fun with more people. I guess after the last haunted house that we took Emile to, he wanted to be able to actually sleep this October.

“We’ll go inside soon, Pat. Is Logan here yet?” Oh yeah, that guy that I’m supposed to be meeting. Forgot about him. Virgil and Roman made him sound so boring, but they also made Remy sound boring before I met the guy while he was dealing with caffeine withdrawal.

My foot sends a small stone flying as Virgil checks his phone; tsk-ing quietly as he starts typing. “He’s inside already. In the upstairs piano room.”

“I thought we were gonna meet him out here?” Oh my god; I’m going to die from boredom and haunt this place for real if I stand out here any longer. So I grab my jacket from the ground, throw it on and quickly slip between the fence bars instead of grabbing a ticket. No one’s watching anyway.

“I don’t care! I’m going in- Bye!”

“Remus! Wait up!”

Happily ignoring Roman, I slip in through an unlocked side door and fight the distant sound of doors slamming by letting my stomping echo through the house as I head upstairs. This place sucks at scares if they’re resulting in slamming doors, but I can probably piss off some employees if I can find one of their hidey holes. And finding this ‘Logan’ and messing with him would be a nice bonus.

Taking a glance into each room -and ignoring the bad jump scares of fake ghosts played by underpaid, teenage actors- I finally find the piano room Virgil mentioned with someone standing at the far end, by the window. Despite the poor lighting, I can tell that he’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and that his dark hair has been attempted to be slicked back. Perfect posture, hands held behind his back, shoulders tense; I may even be seeing a pair of those fancy black shoes that a lot of the richer kids in the area have.

I shake my head as I step into the room, followed by an eerie creak in the floorboards. The guy spins around and I manage to see dark eyes behind some glasses before my legs suddenly give way.

One second I see those dark eyes, then the next I’m on the floor with sore arms and a heaviness on my back. A muffled voice, sounding close but layered beneath some kind of fog, gives me the energy to push myself off my stomach and onto my knees before I’m suddenly feeling exhausted.

Those eyes are in front of me again, but this time are a whole lot closer and also no longer as difficult to see that they’re a dark blue; as if the lighting has changed. With a quick glance around, I realise that it has. Because now there’s a broken piano, some splintered wooden pillars, a floodlight that looks like it’s been forgotten about, the walls showing their insides, and a giant fucking hole in the ceiling.

“What the hell...” This guy better have some answers- there’s no way that I should have fallen through the floor. But he looks just as roughed up as me, with some sawdust and a black feather in his now unkempt hair and his tie -who wears a tie to a haunted house?- is hanging around his neck. His huge, ruffled, pitch-black wings of some corvid don’t look injured at least.

He… didn’t have wings a moment ago.

The guy must have noticed me staring at them, as he motions behind me wordlessly as he stands and brushes himself off. Something twinges in my gut as I turn slightly, only to find myself looking at the dusty wings of a hummingbird. They’re small and rather thin looking, but covered in blues and greens and a few hints of red. They flutter as I try out the new limbs, tearing another part of my shirt in the process. But who cares? I just grew two new limbs.

I’m pulled to my feet, my vision spinning slightly and a tightness in my chest makes it a little harder to breathe. My eyes drift back to the guy in front of me who seems like he’s not as stupefied as I am at what the hell just happened. “Uh… There’s a feather in your hair.”

His eyes widen as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, catching the feather along the way and taking a second to pocket it before nodding slightly. “Thank you.” I hear him taking in a sharp inhale as his wings twitch as they try to stay off the dirty floor. There’s no point as they’re covered in dust and dirt already, but he seems stubborn enough to keep trying. “As unexpected and strange as this encounter was, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Logan Crow.”

“Oh! You’re that guy I’m supposed to be meeting- Wait, your last name is ‘Crow’?” I point at the black masses on his back. “And you have those wings?” His brows dip in slightly; just enough that he looks kind of cute. I wonder what all of his other expressions look like...

“Purely coincidental. And you must be Remus Aurelian-”

Something grinds together, echoing the sounds of wood against metal and of a highly taught string snapping from the pressure. Logan’s wings move so that the joint sits higher than his head, ready to fly him away from danger; if only he actually knew how to fly.

I swallow with a dry mouth as I finally realise how small of a room that we find ourselves in. Not that the small amount of space is an issue. Nor that the room seems to be also empty, besides the useless, broken piano. “We should probably leave.”

“Agreed.” The door to the room is just a maintenance one; small enough to not draw attention to it the other side, while large enough to push through wood or something to fix these pillars. They obviously haven’t done so in a while...

It’s rusted hinges squeak with resistance until one of the screws pops out of place as I manage to push it open. But as I attempt to crawl through, a stab of pain flows up my back and shoulders as my new limbs hit the top of the door frame. I try again, wincing this time as I attempt to squeeze through until I’m dragged back inside by the leg.

“I can’t fit through that! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“If you can’t, I surely can’t either.” Even with my tiny-ass wings that may or may not be able to carry me in the future -something to worry about another time- we’re stuck in here unless we suddenly figure out how to fly. In this small room, with not even a window in it. Just four walls that seem to have gotten closer than the last time I had paid attention to them. “I’ll text message the others, see if they can get the operators of the house to help us.”

Standing up doesn’t help the irregular waves of nausea that continue to hit me, but it’s better than how hard it is to breathe when I’m sitting. “But that’s going to take ages!” Except now it’s both hard to breathe, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. And I feel light headed. And my legs don’t want to hold me up anymore. A deep growl escapes my throat as I kick the stump of the closest broken pillar, making a few extra chunks fly off of it. “Why the hell did they make half of these rooms so damn tiny!?”

I kick it again until a hand sits firmly on my shoulder. It’s weird that I already feel so much for this guy, as anyone else would get an elbow to the ribs for touching me while this nausea keeps attacking me. I move away instead, huffing a bit while also taking in a few deeper breaths. “Are… Remus, do you happen to be claustrophobic?”

“What? Fuck no.” I can almost see Janus raising his eyebrow at me; always somehow knowing when I’m lying. It’s just some stupid fear that everyone thinks that I got over years ago. I can last until someone comes to grab us. Maybe sitting down will help...

“I know that we have only just met, but I will ask if you need comforting right now. And before you say that you don’t need it; you are shaking.” The nausea fades into chills and a heavy stone in my gut as I look at my hands as the ground gets a little closer. I close my eyes, hoping that I can just imagine that I’m outside or in a huge cathedral with furniture and lots of room to run around. My hands aren’t shaking; they can’t be shaking. If Roman or Patton or Virgil- anyone knew that I would turn into this wreck just because I’m in a tiny space, I’d never hear the end of it. Being afraid isn’t… It’s not me.

A comforting warmth makes me jump, sliding me off of my pins-and-needles-filled legs. Something slides in behind me, with one hand on my waist and the other helping my wings fold before I’m pulled into a chest. Logan’s chest. When the hell did he wrap his wings around me?

“I’m not great at this…”

“It’s cool.” I go to say ‘me either’, but instead decide to relax into him. My chest still hurts and it's still harder to breathe then what I’d like.

“You were crying.”

“I didn’t notice.” Well fuck. What a great first impression this has been. He doesn’t sound judgemental, and he has his wings around me, so he mustn’t think too badly of me. Probably...

“Are you alright?”

I shake my head, sighing as he adjusts the both of us for a few seconds before he finally seems comfortable. “Don’t tell anyone that this happened. They uh, don’t know.” All of my usual drivel and weird flirts are weirdly vacant from my head. It’s weird since that’s the usual, but it’s not bad. I don’t think I’ve felt this comfortable since I was a kid. “The claustrophobia thing, I mean.”

“Ah. Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Logan seems shy; that’ll be fun to fuck with later. A distant scream from the haunted house brings his arm further around me, and I definitely get a smug smirk because I know that Roman didn’t get cuddles for weeks after meeting Janus. Logan may be a little awkward but holy shit, I already love this.

It's too quiet though; I can hear how bad my breathing is and it’s making me way too self conscious. “I’m gonna eat a full squid in front of Roman to cheer myself up after this.” He stifles his laugh too. Oh, he really is a shy one! And he doesn’t get grossed out easily from the sounds of it.

“They do have three hearts that could be used to help you scare him, but I’m unsure if they are also edible. It may depend on the species.” He hesitates for a moment, moving his head to look down at me, judging by how he’s moving. Roman did say that he was a nerd, but not about stuff that’s actually cool. “I do know that they use two for their gills while the third sends blood to the rest of the body.”

He stops again, this time tensing up the shoulder that I’m using as a pillow. With a huff, I reach up to pat his face before closing my eyes; getting comfortable enough to try and forget where we are. “Keep goin’, you’re nice to listen to. Got that sexy teacher voice thing going on.”

I’m exhausted, but manage a chuckle after his sputters for a moment. He starts talking once more as the hand that’s wrapped around me lightly tapping a rhythm against my side.

“Oh, uhm, alright. I myself am afraid of the ocean, as we have mapped far more of Mars then it and it confirms that over ninety percent of the world is in the dark, but it is rather fascinating to know that ninety-five percent of life on Earth comes from our Ocean’s-” I get to listen to Logan talk endlessly about cool facts, wrapped in his large wings, while being comforted about some silly fear as we sit inside of a partially collapsed room? I think I could get used to stuff like this.

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

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when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out.

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing

read it on ao3!!

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?”

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform.

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -”

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says.

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.”

“The event’s on Saturday night.” Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?”

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek.

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.”

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear.

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil.

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.)

You have: One! New message!

FROM: Virgil

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.”

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him.

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?”

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot.

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.”

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container.

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?”

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow.

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!”

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?”

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet.

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!”

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now.

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!”

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.”

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!”

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!”

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters.

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins.

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?”

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.”

*~*~*~*~*

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ”

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?”

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.”

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.”

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity.

“Very well.”

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center.

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!”

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it.

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!”

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.”

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!”

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.”

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.”

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.”

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.”

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!”

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps.

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!”

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.”

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?”

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus.

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe.

They look gorgeous.

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone.

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself.

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says.

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!”

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling.

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.”

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.)

#starshinewrites #romantic analogical #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #background romantic roceit #background romantic remile #background queerplatonic intruality #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts deceit #ts patton #ts roman

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villlainarc · 4 years

Text

(I Could Put) A Little Stardust in Your Eyes

Summary: Stars are beautiful things. They glitter in the sky, blessing all those who wander the lands beneath them with soft, silvery light, and stars, being beautiful things, help others to find beautiful things of their own.

Humans, too, are beautiful things. That’s why the stars favor them especially, granting them another to spend their life with. These are soulmates; beautiful things drawn together to create yet another beautiful thing, a fate for each person written in the stars.

Pairings: romantic Losleep, queerplatonic Roceit, platonic Logince, platonic Sleepceit

Warnings: internalized arophobia for one (1) part of one (1) scene, let me know if i missed anything else

Word Count: 12,498

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive @emo-disaster @wingedsoulmatedreamer

Notes: *shoves everything that happened in yesterday’s video aside except from the name reveal thank god for the find and replace feature* wdym roman and janus were mean to each other

for @sleepless-in-starbucks’s a meter of space contest (belated congrats on 1k and 1 year!)

fun fact i’ve been working on this since december and i remember this was based on a half-prompt or two (i think it was pining losleep from lia and then soulmate au from meri? We Can Pretend That’s Right) that i got when i asked for some but at this point i’m too tired to find the post and also if lia’s memory fails aer then i’m just gonna. Remain An Anonymous Anon fhdkfjd

ao3

_________________________

Logan likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this: they’re beautiful, they fill the sky, bringing light to the darkest of times, they’re constant, ever-shining, they speak of a wider universe.

And of course, they lead you to your soulmate.

Now, Logan hasn’t met his soulmate, but he’s still awed by the stars.

And he doesn’t need his soulmate anyway, not when he has Remy.

Remy. His best friend, full of beauty even at his most broken. His constant, ever-brilliant best friend who convinces him that life can be more than just facts and numbers, who taught him to look at the stars as more than just stars.

Logan knows that stars are glowing balls of incredibly hot gas. He knows that they’re primarily composed of hydrogen and helium, and he knows that their colors differ depending on their temperature.

And yet, when Remy says, “Each star is a lost dream, hoping to return home,” with such conviction, Logan has no choice but to believe him. When Remy proclaims, “Stars are hope for those who have nothing but their light,” Logan knows that in many senses, he’s right. And of course, when Remy purrs, “Ah, but you see, the stars are really just the sparkles I see in your eyes come to life,” Logan can only blush.

Stars aren’t just phosphorescent spheres of hydrogen and helium, and they aren’t just a tool used to find soulmates. Remy proves that, and that’s why Logan finds he loves both him and the stars so very much.

_________________________

Remy likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this, and they all lead back to Logan. His best friend, his very own star.

Remy had always wondered why anyone needed the stars when the people around them could shine so brightly on their own, but then he’d seen the way that Logan’s eyes lit up when he was given the chance to talk about them.

Then, he thinks that maybe the stars exist only to sparkle in his friend’s eyes. Maybe the stars exist just so Logan’s whole being can glow when he tells Remy that “Most stars come in multiples and orbit one center of gravity,” and does he think that this could be another reason that stars are the things that determine soulmates? Maybe the stars exist solely for Logan to look so radiant as he mentions to Remy that, “The stars with the most mass burn out the fastest,” and doesn’t he find it fascinating that some of the brightest things in the universe are so short-lived?

Or maybe the stars exist so he can watch as Logan stops talking about them at the slightest hint of a smile on Remy’s face, voice falling into nothing as he sits and stares. Maybe the stars exist so Logan can look at Remy as though he is one too.

Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter why the stars exist. Maybe they and their soulmate determining properties don’t change anything. Maybe the stars can’t change anything at all, especially not where Logan and Remy are concerned.

_________________________

But nothing so beautiful lasts forever, nothing so bright will survive for long. Even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, its secrets unveiled as the black velvet lifts away.

And as morning dawns once more, all is revealed. Nothing remains hidden, and the protection of everything held dear is no longer granted so willingly. In a world where light once again reigns and all is laid bare, something as fragile as the happiness Logan and Remy share can not and will not possibly survive.

Every beautiful thing must die, after all.

_________________________

They meet Roman first.

Roman, who Logan’s star finally shines for. Roman, the beautiful, perfect man who’s demeanor is just as bright as Logan’s star. Roman, the actor, the celebrity, Logan’s soulmate.

Logan is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? This is Roman Prince, after all. He’s everything anyone could ever dream of having in a soulmate. And Remy’s not jealous of that, not jealous of him.

He’s not.

Remy likes Roman. He’s eccentric, but caring and sweet and sensitive and better with emotions than Remy will ever be. Logan deserves someone like him, someone who’s the fire to his ice, someone who’s just the right amount of extra to serve as Logan’s foil, someone whose head is high enough in the clouds that he lifts Logan ever so slightly from the ground upon which he’s so determined to stay.

Remy likes Roman. He likes that Roman is Logan’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Remy sees how easily they fit, how precisely they slot into the other’s life. They’re soulmates—of course they belong together. Of course they fit, of course they work, of course they’re… perfect.

Remy doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Logan has a soulmate who’s thousands of times more wonderful than Remy could ever hope to be. Of course he does. Remy shouldn’t have ever expected any different, not for Logan. Logan deserves all of this, deserves Roman and his romantic tendencies and pampering and love. Logan deserves all of that and so much more.

And Remy, no matter how much he cares for Logan, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

They meet Janus next.

Janus, who Remy’s star finally shines for. Janus, the handsome, perfect person whose intelligent eyes shine with more intensity than any star in the sky. Janus, the flirt, the sophisticated and elegant, Remy’s soulmate.

Remy is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? After meeting Janus, you’d understand how hard it would be to not fall in love with them. He’s everything anyone could ever want in a soulmate, and Logan isn’t jealous of her. Not jealous at all.

He’s not.

Logan likes Janus, truly. Janus, who’s so smooth, suave, and charming. Janus, with words like gold and a tongue of silver, so much more eloquent and self-assured than Logan could ever dream of being. Yes, Remy deserves someone like them, someone who can give him everything he’s ever wanted and more, someone who can wax poetic about him with all the ease of breathing, someone who’s dramatics give Remy’s heart a reason to soar.

Logan likes Janus. He likes that Janus is Remy’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Logan can see how easily Janus can bring a blush to Remy’s cheeks, how much she can make him smile. They’re soulmates—of course they make each other happy. Of course they laugh together, of course their eyes are brightest when they meet each other’s, of course they’re… perfect.

Logan doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Remy has a soulmate who’s trillions of light-years better than Logan could hope to be. Of course he does. Remy deserves all of this, deserves Janus’s brilliant mind and sparks of romance and love. Remy deserves all of that and so much more.

And Logan, no matter how much he cares for Remy, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

On the night Logan and Remy have their first kiss, it’s raining—storming, really. The raindrops fall in sheets, and it’s a struggle to see anything more than a foot away. The sky has clouded over too, and the world is lit only by neon signs and street lamps, car headlights and refractions. There isn’t a single moonbeam to light the sky and not one star glimmers.

Perhaps that’s why they feel emboldened enough to talk to each other—really talk to each other—to confess, to pull each other close, to put everything they’d ever known in jeopardy. Perhaps, once the source of their fear had drifted out of sight, Logan and Remy understood for the first time that there was nothing to fear at all, that there never had been.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of starlight for city lights that causes Remy to take Logan’s hand without a care for who’s watching, to spin him around with a laugh beneath a sky full of storm clouds, to twirl him ever closer before they stop in the middle of the sidewalk—does that all just to see his face, to have him near, would have always done all that and more. Perhaps it is the way the neon lights are reflected in the sheen of water on Remy’s face that causes Logan’s breath to catch in his throat, perhaps it is the fact that the raindrops coating Logan’s glasses looked like stardust that causes Remy’s heart to do that same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that lifts Remy’s hands to Logan’s face, keeps their eyes interlocked, lets the words “you’re beautiful” spill out of one of their mouths, out of both of them, out of none. The words might have been spoken with the way their eyes sparkled, hearts pounded, breathes quickened, smiles deepened, but they are there, floating in the air between them. They’re there as Remy wipes the streams of rain from Logan’s face like they’re tears, with an impossible sort of gentleness reserved for only the most precious of things. They’re there as he continues to brush his thumbs over skin dark as night and just as beautiful, they’re there as smiles fade into hopeless longing. They’re there as Remy’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Logan responds with a nod, both imperceptible to anyone outside of the now silent world of their own creation.

This time, Remy knows he says, “You’re beautiful, Logan.” He knows this because he feels Logan’s cheeks heat up beneath his hands and though his self-control had been a lost cause from the start, any that he may have still possessed vanishes in an instant. Remy’s eyes slip shut, and he’s falling.

Remy and Logan kiss like falling stars, doomed from the very moment their lips meet. They kiss like a star about to go supernova, like they know their time is limited to this instant and this instant alone. Their kiss is Gliese 436b, a paradox that occurred against all odds. Like Gliese 436b, the world around them is so cold, and yet they burn from the inside out. They are shooting stars, and they wish upon each other, neither wanting time to start up again, for everything to fall in on itself, for their universe to collapse.

But they burn too brightly to survive for long, so a collapse is inevitable. The light that was their kiss transforms to the complete absence of it as they both go dark; for Remy and Logan are not only stars, they are also a black hole—cosmic quicksand, dragging each other into the unknowable as they hold on with everything they are and it is still not enough, never enough. They can’t hold on forever, and so they must let go and they must breathe. That is their first mistake: extinguishing their shared light.

As they stop burning so intensely, they make their second mistake: allowing the light to stay dark. They still have their hands placed in rain-soaked waves of hair, running over cheeks streaked with what could be raindrops or tears, gripping wet shirts that cling to torsos, gliding over arms made smooth by water, but they will not kiss again. And that is a terrible, horrible thing because it allows for mistake number three.

Their third mistake is one that would have happened one day, even without mistakes one and two, one that is so inescapable that nothing could ever dream of stopping it. The third mistake Logan and Remy make is allowing for their once-burning light to collapse in on itself, to fall apart so thoroughly that the place they shared their kiss will never again allow anything near it to shine that brilliantly or at all. The street lamp that watches over them now will never again be illuminated after tonight, impossibly dark no matter what lightbulb is twisted into it. The car headlights that pass by will flicker, and any neon signs nearby will dim before going out with a pop of sparks. The collapse they will allow creates a darkness so profound that one cannot pass under the street lamp, stare into the headlights, wander past what used to be a neon sign without shivering—not from the cold, but from an atmosphere so desolate that anyone who bears witness to it will remember it with a feeling like a dagger to the heart for the rest of their days.

Their third mistake brings about an all-encompassing darkness, but the all-encompassing darkness is a result of the collapse that precedes it, a collapse that begins when Logan untangles one hand from rain-soaked waves of hair and yanks the other away from its grip on a wet, clingy shirt, and a collapse that is their third mistake, not the darkness that follows. The collapse only grows more devastating as Logan, still gasping for air, breathes out an apology. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the rate of the collapse increases astronomically.

“Why are you sorry?” Remy asks, about to destroy any hope that the black hole they’ve created might not rip entire galaxies apart. “Did you not want to kiss me, babe? No, forget I asked that,” he laughs, shakes his head, interrupts himself before continuing on a course set towards destruction, “of course you wanted to kiss me. I know you, doll, and I know you wanted to kiss me, and you said you wanted to kiss me, and I know that you love me. You must, and even though the stars say you don’t, I know you do and I know I’m right.”

“Remy,” Logan breathes, not wanting to say anything else at all. “Remy, I—” he hesitates once again, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest hitches as Remy leans forward in anticipation. Logan wants to prevent the shattering of the hope etched on his face, wants to offer an explanation that could somehow minimize the damage of the most destructive thing in the universe. But he doesn’t. He, in fact, does the exact opposite of that. By simply saying, “You’re wrong,” Logan has effectively sealed his and Remy’s fates.

“No,” Remy says, walking over broken glass with his voice, “I’m not wrong. You’re lying, babe. I know you are.”

In a sharp contrast to Remy’s, Logan’s voice is colder than space itself, freezing anything remotely human immediately and without remorse. “What does it matter? We both have soulmates, and mine is not you.”

“What does that matter?”

“What doe—” Logan looks incredulous, and the divide between him and Remy widens as he takes a step back. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean. Soulmates aren’t the sort of thing you can ignore quite so easily.”

“Come on now, babe. You of all people have heard stories of people who never find their soulmates, who find love in other places, who—”

“But those people haven’t found their soulmates. That’s the point, and that’s where we differ from them. We have found our soulmates, and ignoring the stars so blatantly will only break their hearts. I refuse to do that.”

“They’ll understand though, I know they will.” Remy’s voice sounds infinitely less sure than it had when he’d begun this conversation. The conviction has drained from his words, drawn into the endless depths of the ever-growing black hole.

Logan shakes his head, expression closing off entirely. “No. They won’t, and you know that as well as I do. You’re only deluding yourself if you truly believe otherwise.”

“Babe—”

“Please don’t.”

Remy knows what Logan’s tone means. That discomfort, that refusal to accept the pet name that’s normally thrown around so very casually, that icy expression twisting for barely the blink of an eye into involuntary fondness—Logan does love him. Not that Remy had ever doubted that fact, not really, but the confirmation is a comfort to hear. “Logan, then,” he amends, making a point to speak his name as reverently as possible, fitting as much love and adoration into one word as he can. “Logan, my darling, my dear, my light, my star—you will never know until you try.”

Logan, as a general rule, doesn’t blush. His skin is too dark for the red heat rushing to his cheeks to stand out and even if that wasn’t the case, he is impossible to fluster. But tonight, under a street lamp that will all too soon flicker out for good, Remy can see the barest hint of color gracing Logan’s cheeks. His mouth opens as he tries to form a response, but it shuts again just as quickly.

“No,” he settles on after a moment that had stretched on for a short eternity. “No, I am not going to risk hurting them. I care for Roman, and Janus is… she’s important to you. So we will not speak of this again. It would be best to forget this happened entirely.”

“Logan—” Remy begins, saying that name with the same sweetness he’d used before, reaching a hand across the darkness between them with a wish for one last brush of his hand against Logan’s cheek, one last touch.

Logan takes another step backwards. “I think it would be best if I didn’t see you for a while.” Another step. “I’m sorry,” he says. I’m sorry for kissing you when I knew I shouldn’t, I’m sorry if you loved me and I hurt you by pulling away now, by always pulling away, I’m sorry for falling in love with you when I knew we were never meant to be. I’m so, so sorry, he doesn’t say.

“I—” I love you, Logan. Nothing you do now or ever will change that, Remy doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry too,” Remy decides to say instead.

As the black hole from their supernova of a kiss forms fully, Logan walks away, rain streaming down his face once more, tasting oddly of salt when a droplet catches on his lips.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, Remy stands beneath the street lamp, watching him go before the lights surrounding him all flicker out.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, as Remy stands beneath the street lamp, every spark of hope either of them had ever held is extinguished by the rain that pours down around them; each dream of what could have been is consumed by the black hole of their own creation.

Everything beautiful must die, after all.

_________________________

Roman has been fighting for perfection his whole life.

From the moment he was born, he’d been expected to do everything right. Not one slip-up had been allowed, not one action that could in any way be perceived as wrong.

He’d been able to appear flawless—he still can, of course, and he doesn’t want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t been. His smiles glitter, the light hitting them just right each and every time. His grace is unprecedented, his skin unblemished, each curve of his muscles chiseled to perfection. Roman’s ideas are always polished when he presents them, and you’d have to comb through hours of footage to find a second of any of his performances that could be considered anywhere near average, and you simply wouldn’t find anything below that standard. Each word he says is picked out meticulously, long before he plans to speak them, and each laugh is even more carefully timed.

There is not a single aspect of Roman that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—star status, money, friends, fans—and it’s all due to his absolute perfection.

And it was hard to get there. God, it was hard. Being held to such a standard, constantly on display, each move he made being judged to the highest extreme imaginable—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But for Roman? This has been his life for as long as he’s lived it.

The only thing that’s ever-so-slightly imperfect about him is the distinct absence of a soulmate in his life. It’s okay though! The world is more accepting these days, and soulmates no longer define you. The fact that Roman doesn’t have one hardly ruins his perfection.

Still, though, it does. The world may be more accepting, but not having a soulmate is far from destigmatized, and Roman is the only person of his caliber to be so very… flawed, in that sense.

He tries not to show how much it hurts to be looked down upon for something entirely out of his control, but it does. It hurts, and it hurts more than he will ever say. Roman’s fight to be perfect is doomed to fail unless he can manage to fix how utterly broken he is.

So that’s why, when he meets Logan and their stars light up the whole sky, he falls hopelessly in love in the very next breath he takes. The stars chose Logan for him, and the stars would not be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Logan is, what he’s like, if he likes Roman in return—it’s all negligible.

It’s all so very negligible because now, at long, long last, Roman is perfect.

_________________________

Janus has been perfect his whole life.

From the moment she was born, everything they’d done had been effortless. It was unfathomable that he’d make a single slip-up; not one action that they could ever make would be perceived as wrong.

Janus is, of course, far from perfect—and to be completely honest, he’s not sure why anyone would view him as such. Sure, she’s impossibly suave, causing anyone who crosses their path to swoon with the slightest of winks and sure, their cleverness enchants anyone who hadn’t yet fallen for them. Even with half of his face horrifically scarred, she is still one of the most utterly gorgeous beings to have ever lived—all glitter and mismatched eyes and charm, lit from within with confidence and smirks and eloquence. His words can convince anyone of anything, yes, but that isn’t to say that they’re manipulative. That would make him imperfect, and Janus is not imperfect—she is quick-witted and full of class, voice sugary sweet in a way that can’t possibly be genuine and yet is almost always entirely so.

There is not a single aspect of Janus that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—a brilliant mind and looks to match, riches, influence, people who would kill for them—and it’s all due to her indisputable perfection.

But the thing is—they aren’t perfect. Appearing to be perfect doesn’t mean that they actually are. And now— now he can’t be imperfect. Now, she’s held to a standard she can’t possibly keep meeting, constantly being observed and studied and judged—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But Janus? They make this impossibility look effortless.

The only thing that offers him any reprieve from his neverending performance is the fact that he doesn’t have a soulmate. It’s the one thing that keeps her even slightly imperfect, and Janus is perfectly fine with it staying that way. All they want is to prove—one flaw at a time—that they aren’t infallible.

Still, though, no one believes him. They’re kept on a pedestal, their lack of a soulmate going completely ignored. Everyone she knows remains stubborn in the belief that she can do no wrong.

They try not to show how much it pains them to be living a constant lie, to never be allowed to act in a way that’s true to who they are, but it does. It pains him, and it pains him more than he will ever say. Janus’s quiet struggle to be herself is doomed to fail unless she can manage to prove to someone how truly broken she is.

So that’s why, when he meets Remy and their stars light up the whole sky, he nearly falls apart right then and there. It doesn’t matter to them why the stars had chosen Remy for him, and not only because the stars wouldn’t be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Remy is, what he’s like, if he too feels panicked and suffocated by the very idea of a soulmate—it’s all negligible.

It’s all hopelessly negligible because now, on a day that’s come entirely too soon for her liking, the stars have torn away her one hope at being perceived as imperfect.

_________________________

There is no such thing as perfection, not a single person who could ever be considered flawless. Even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the multitude of stars that pierce the night.

And as the sun does rise, each fissure that’s torn its way through each person is revealed. In the harsh light of day, there’s nowhere to hide and each stain lain upon a pristine world is thrown into sharp relief. Unable to conceal anything else, darkness retreats and, having been so thinly veiled, there was never any way Roman and Janus’s perfection could have withstood the onslaught of daylight.

The idea of perfection is a beautiful thing, but like all beautiful things, it can never last.

_________________________

Roman loves Logan. His boyfriend is brilliant and funny in a dry way Roman hadn’t ever thought he’d grow to adore, and Logan’s mind is one of the most beautiful things Roman has ever had the honor of being in the presence of. He is in awe of the darkness of Logan’s skin and how he can run his own hands over it, making golden lights spread over the night sky of Logan’s face or take Logan’s hand in his, causing warm starlight to glow from between his fingers.

And Logan is his soulmate. The stars brought them together, and Roman couldn’t be happier, couldn’t be luckier.

Roman loves Logan, really, he does, so why are his eyes constantly drawn to Janus? Janus, Remy’s soulmate. Janus, with the scar on his face that they make beautiful by framing it with shimmering golden highlights and the confidence to wear it proudly. Janus, whose smile could light the night sky all on its own. Janus, whose winks and compliments cause Roman to melt a little more every day. Janus, who— oh god. Janus, who—

Janus, who Roman’s in love with.

Janus, who Remy’s in love with, who’s Remy’s soulmate.

Janus, who isn’t Roman’s soulmate. Janus, who he can’t be in love with. Janus, who wouldn’t ever love him.

Roman realizes this, of course he realizes this. He understands that he will never be allowed to be with Janus, no matter what he may want. He knows that he still cares for Logan, albeit not in the way he’d originally thought. Spending his life with Logan won’t be so bad.

Even if Janus is right there, her gorgeously mismatched eyes taunting him every time they’re in the same room. Even if they continue to wink, to smile, to compliment, to flirt, Roman knows they cannot ever and will not ever be together. No matter what he may want.

So he ignores his feelings. Ignores Janus’s incessant winks, his smiles, compliments, flirtations. Roman ignores it all, making a point to dote on Logan ever more, take him on increasingly extravagant dates, use every opportunity he can to kiss him. He knows that doesn’t equate to love. He knows that he isn’t proving anything to anyone. But what else can he do when his mind short circuits every time Janus so much as looks at him, when it goes completely blank each time they laugh?

Nothing. Roman can do nothing about this, and it’s driving him insane. So what if this doting, these lavish dates, those unabashed displays of public affection are all performed to stop himself from further examining his own feelings? So what if it isn’t truly helping? So what if he can’t help but imagine running his fingers through Janus’s hair even as his hand ghosts over Logan’s? So what if he dreams that the fingers his are laced with belong to Janus instead? So what if fantasizes about holding them close to his body and burying a kiss in her hair while it’s Logan who leans against him?

Most days, faking everything works. Most days, everything feels almost normal. He’s been a perfect actor his entire life, and he’s not about to stop being one now.

And if no one notices that something isn’t normal, then maybe nothing is.

_________________________

Janus loves Remy.

…That’s a lie. He doesn’t love Remy.

…That’s not quite true either, though. Because they do love him, they do love his snark and sarcasm, his smirks and coffee-brown eyes so often hidden behind his sunglasses. It’s not true at all, really, because she does love all that and more. Just not in the way soulmates are, according to society, supposed to love each other.

So they aren’t in the wrong exactly, and she isn’t truly lying every time they tell Remy ‘I love you,’ but he also isn’t truly free of blame either. Her feelings may not be her fault, but the way they handle Remy’s feelings is. So she’s careful, so incredibly careful. His actions don’t betray a thing. To an outside observer, he would appear to be utterly, perfectly in love.

But that’s just the thing. She’s not.

…That’s a lie too. They are in love, just not with Remy.

At least, that’s what he thinks he feels. She thinks she’s in love, but then again, they’ve never been in love before. He has no idea, if he’s being honest, what love feels like. All she knows is that when she looks at Roman, she feels something entirely different than what she feels when she looks at Remy.

Remy feels like comfort and stability—something to hold onto when the rest of the world falls to ruin, a star that remains set in the sky, guiding you home.

They’d always been told that romantic love would feel like fire—something that burns on contact, a wonderful, searing pain that scorches you from the inside out, illuminating the best parts of you and incinerating the worst.

Whereas Roman… Roman feels like sunlight—something that’s not quite intense enough to burn on contact but still managing to light up corners of you that would otherwise remain hidden, casting shadows on things you’d rather not see, a ray of light that fills you with warmth and happiness and something just slightly to the left of what you’d imagine true love to be.

Janus doesn’t know a word for that feeling, though. It’s not quite as intense as love has been described to her as, but what else would it be?

No, they’re definitely in love with Roman. Roman, who’s spun of sunlight and pure gold. Roman, who’s outer physique betrays just how strong he is inside. Roman, with his bright laughter and genuine words and a mind full of ideas so intensely radiant no one else could have possibly dreamt them up. Roman, who she could wax poetic about for hours on end.

Roman who, yes, is Logan’s soulmate and not his. But that’s just a technicality, isn’t it? No star had ever stated that soulmates had to be strictly romantic. And the stars are wise. Soulmates were their gift to the world, they wouldn’t mess something like this up. Society is what dictates that soulmates indicate romantic attraction and romantic attraction alone.

And society is often wrong, is it not?

So perhaps Janus and Remy are, in fact, still soulmates. Perhaps Roman and Logan are as well.

But perhaps they’ve all been wrong about the sort of soulmates they are.

But then again, what if Janus is wrong about this? What if the stars do only deal in romance and her feelings for Roman are nothing more than infatuation? What if—god forbid—society is truly right this time? What if they just… choose to ignore their gut feeling this time? What if it’s better to continue pretending, just in case? Because what if he’s the reason Remy’s heart breaks, that Logan’s heart breaks, that his own heart breaks when he realizes his love for Roman is unrequited?

Yes, that’s what she’ll do. Keep pretending. Doing anything else won’t be worth the pain.

So Janus goes on pretending—pretending to be in love with Remy, pretending to be perfect. At times, it comes as easily as breathing. But at other times, she has to imagine Roman’s face in the place of Remy’s. Replace pale skin for golden, add warmth to his eyes and hair, sharpen his jawline and cheekbones, fill out his frame with just a touch more muscle. Pretend the cocky smirk is a blinding smile. It’s still easy enough, most days, and that’s all that matters.

They’ve been pretending their whole life, it’s not as though anything will go wrong now.

_________________________

The day of Janus and Roman’s first kiss is not “most days.” It’s the opposite, really. Logan and Remy aren’t there, for one. Janus is awake before the day has truly begun, and the scene in front of him is painted with golden fire. The sky is perfectly clear, and the only thing needed to light up the world is the soft glow of the sun.

Perhaps this radiance is why Roman too is awake at such an early hour. Perhaps that’s why he’s sought out Janus, why he’s approaching the steps of their porch with such light in his eyes. Perhaps, once the dark of night had passed, the truths Roman and Janus had held so close are finally brought with them into the dawn.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of a midnight-colored sky for one spun from gold that causes Roman to fit himself next to Janus on the top step without a passing thought spared for the rest of the early-morning stillness, to allow his hand to linger just slightly too close to hers, to watch as the slow rise of the sun creates a perfect halo around their head. Perhaps it is the warmth of Roman’s hand that rests so close to theirs and the matching look on his face that causes Janus’s breath to catch in her throat, perhaps it is the way that the sky full of fire sets Janus’s eyes alight that causes Roman’s heart to do the same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that convinces Roman to place his hand over Janus’s, interlocks their fingers, lets the silence linger for a moment, for an hour, a year, a lifetime. The silence persists and though there is such intense meaning in the heat that ignites in their eyes and in the way their hearts pound, breaths quicken, faces glow—the air remains heavy without their voices to fill it. The world goes quiet as Roman lifts Janus’s hand off the ground like it’s a rose made of glass. It stays quiet as he becomes transfixed by the hand resting in his own, it stays quiet as he looks up to meet eyes of molten gold and sunlit skies. It stays quiet as Roman’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Janus responds with a nod, both actions imperceptible to the rest of a world still held captive by sleep.

Like the breaking of porcelain, Roman’s voice shatters the silence with the words, “You’re beautiful, Janus.” The destruction of something so pristine is more than fine though because as he says this, Janus’s face begins to glow with even more warmth and any restraint Roman may have previously been inclined to show vanishes in an instant. Unwilling to break anything else, Roman’s eyes stay open as he falls.

The kiss Roman lays on Janus’s hand is delicate, softer than the drift of cherry blossom petals floating to the ground. He’s impossibly careful with every movement he makes, picking his way through a cluster of thorn-covered roses—both avoiding drawing blood and basking in the beauty that surrounds him. Roman may have only kissed Janus on her hand, but that simple action causes both of their bodies to go alight with tongues of fire. They are the coming of dawn, bright and brilliant and inevitable; they revel in their warmth and the hope that they represent.

Sunrises don’t transform into black holes, don’t destroy everything they touch, don’t cause the universe to collapse. They simply are, certain and pure.

Nothing is ruined when Roman lifts his lips from the back of Janus’s hand. There is no tragedy that follows his next breath, no misfortune that befalls him. He merely sits there, breathing, living, waiting for Janus to make the next move as his hand remains wrapped around theirs.

“What was that?” Janus asks finally, choosing those words to fracture the silence while already knowing the answer to them. It was a confession, a confirmation, a spur-of-the-moment decision, a kiss.

“A kiss,” Roman replies, echoing Janus’s thoughts. “Did I overstep any boundaries?”

“No, no. I would have stopped you if I were uncomfortable.”

“Then what is it, my dearest?”

“I just— I need to think. I promise it’s not anything you need to worry over, but… I need time.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Roman says, worrying anyway.

Janus’s head drops into their hands, and the world falls into silence once more. With nothing else to do, Roman leans back on his arms and lets his mind wander aimlessly as well, trying his best to stop himself from catastrophizing. He replays the kiss in his head, a soft smile growing on his face before he gasps and his eyes go wide with a realization.

Pushing himself off the ground, Roman turns to Janus. Placing a hand lightly on her knee, he proclaims, “I think you’re my soulmate, Janus.”

Janus blinks, startled. After going completely still for a moment, the reply he ends up giving is, “Are you sure?”

Now it’s Roman’s turn to blink in incredulity. “Yes, of course!” he says, a slightly conflicted frown growing on his face. “I know I have to have a soulmate because everyone has a soulmate and I know I don’t like Logan in the way you’re supposed to like a soulmate because the feelings I have for him are in the same vein as the feelings I have for my other friends—really, I’ve begun to think of him as my best friend because I do love him so very much, just not like that—and I love you in a different way, so you must be my soulmate. Since I can’t— I can’t just not have a soulmate, it has to be you. I love you, Janus, and I love you differently, so this is the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Roman, darling, that’s not how soulmates work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it is!”

Janus takes a deep breath, resolving to keep his voice gentle upon realizing he’s likely about to completely shatter Roman’s world-view. “Soulmates aren’t strictly romantic, you do know that, right? Often, they can take the form of a best friend or, when one or more of the soulmates in question is aromantic, a queerplatonic partner.”

“That can’t be right,” Roman says, scrunching up his nose in thinly veiled disdain. “Soulmates have to be romantic, that’s just the way things are.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, love,” Janus says, tacking the bit of affection onto the end to soften their words. “They don’t have to be romantic, and there are more cases than you can imagine that prove that. Your soulmate is determined by the glow of your star, not through your own interpretation of how you feel. You may love me, but that doesn’t mean I’m your soulmate.”

“So then… what are you saying? Do— do you not love me as anything other than a friend and you don’t want to properly reject me? Is that why you’re making up this elaborate story? Or is it because you don’t want to hurt Remy or Logan? Or—”

Janus cuts him off before he can come up with anything else. “What? No, it’s not that at all! Besides, Remy and Logan are so clearly in love that I don’t think they’d mind us being together at all and—” Janus cuts themself off, clearing their throat. “—and we can worry about those two gay disasters later. That’s not where I was going with that, apologies.” She rakes a hand through her hair before continuing with considerably less frantic energy, “I’m telling you the truth, Roman. I wouldn’t make something like this up, especially not since I—” Janus frowns suddenly, cutting off her words.

“You…?” Roman prompts, a glimmer of hope spreading across his feature.

Taking a steadying breath, Janus replies, “Since I— I love you too. But,” they add, holding out a hand once they see Roman’s mouth open, words on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t think I love you in exactly the same way you love me.” When Roman’s joy turns to confusion, she quickly begins speaking again. “It’s… a bit hard to explain, in all honesty. I know I don’t love you in the way I would love a friend, but at the same time—” Janus stops, unsure of how to continue. “You know how romantic love is supposed to feel like fire?” he decides to ask, changing approaches entirely. “And how platonic love feels like… a fixed star?”

And, weirdly enough, Roman does know. He understands Janus’s strange comparisons because he feels exactly the same way, and he’s so startled by the way that they’ve apparently seen into his heart that he merely nods in response.

“Well,” Janus continues slowly, “what I feel for you is something in between. Think of it as sunlight, almost. It’s still a force of golden heat, but it feels less like burning and more like a soft warmth that saturates your entire being. It may come from a fixed star, but the sunlight itself is more fluid and of a far warmer hue. It’s love, undoubtedly, but not exactly in the way you’d think of it.”

Roman nods again, Janus’s words resonating with him in a way nothing has before. Then, realizing again what she’s saying, shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, you’re wrong. That sunlight feeling is what I feel for you, and I know that’s romantic love. It has to be. Just because it’s less fiery than we’ve been told it should be doesn’t mean it’s not romantic love.” Roman shakes his head again, repeating in a whisper, “It has to be.”

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling, Roman. Your sunlight feeling can still be romantic, I’m just trying to explain that mine isn’t.”

Roman knows, somehow, that his sunlight feeling isn’t romantic either. Calling it romantic simply doesn’t feel right, but he ignores that sense of wrongness. If this isn’t romantic love, then Roman has never felt romantic love and that means he’s broken and— “I can’t be broken,” Roman rasps out.

Janus reacts immediately, taking Roman’s face in her hands. “You aren’t broken.”

“But if that sunlight isn’t romantic love—”

“I told you it could be,” Janus interjects.

“—and I know it’s not and I’d only be lying to myself if I said it was—but if that’s the only thing I’ve ever felt that gets even sort of close to fire, that means I’ve never felt real romantic love and that means I’m broken.”

“No, it doesn’t. You aren’t broken,” Janus repeats again, the sunlight in their eyes turning her gaze that much more intense. They take a breath, taking one hand from Roman’s face to run it through his hair almost unconsciously. “Have you heard of the term ‘aromantic?’”

Roman shakes his head slightly, careful not to dislodge Janus’s hands from where they’re currently tangled in his hair and brushing over his cheek.

“It refers to someone who doesn’t feel romantic attraction in the same way the term ‘asexual’ refers to someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction. Neither one means that the person is broken, or unfeeling, or in any way flawed. It’s simply a part of who they are—and a part of who I am.” Janus untangles his hand from Roman’s hair before shifting to sit on his knees. “Whether you also choose to adopt this label or not, whether you relate to it or not, whether you want to wait and find out more before you do anything or not, you, Roman Prince, are. Not. Broken.” With those words, Janus raises herself up until her forehead is level with Roman’s, resting it against his. “You. Are. Not. Broken,” they repeat, putting as much emphasis as they can on each word without screaming it.

“Thank you,” Roman says, and he means it with all of his heart. “I love you,” he adds, and he means it not as an afterthought, not in the way that feels like fire, and not in the way that feels like a star, but in the way that feels like sunlight.

“I love you,” Janus replies, and he too means it in the way that feels like sunlight.

She tilts her head down, Roman tilts his up, and their lips meet in the middle.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is full of warmth, of passion, of love.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is in the light of a sunrise that’s barely begun.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is, even with all of their flaws, somehow, someway, impossibly perfect.

_________________________

“I kissed Janus.”

“That’s nice, Roman dear.”

“Logan, I love you with all of my heart, but did you hear a word I just said?”

Logan blinks, looking up from his book. “Of course I heard you, darling. You said you kissed Janus, which to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure why you expect me to have some kind of reaction to—” he freezes, realization lighting his features. “Oh my god. You kissed Janus.” A thousand different emotions flash across his face at once; relief and betrayal, joy and pain, uncertainty and fear and confusion. “Explain,” he finally settles on saying.

“Easy. I love them, and they love me. When two people fall in love, they often choose to—”

“Roman.”

“Right, sorry. Before I continue though, I feel like I should mention—and this may seem a bit out of the blue, but I promise it’s relevant—you’re in love with Remy.”

“…I’m what.” Logan peers at Roman through squinted eyes, his deadpan voice at once skeptical and utterly baffled.

“In love with Remy, but I’ll get back to that in a second. Firstly though, have you heard of queerplatonic partners or queerplatonic relationships?”

“I am familiar with the terms, yes. What does this have to do with—”

“Shh, just listen for a moment, Lo.”

Logan raises a sardonic eyebrow, not saying a word as he waits for Roman to continue.

“Yes, silence is good for listening,” Roman says with a grin. “Anyhow, what I was getting at is that essentially, Janus and I are in love, just not in the way one would be… romantically in love like, say, youandRemyare.” Roman coughs at the end as though clearing his throat. “He taught me about how he doesn’t feel romantic feelings for me, but rather something just a bit… different. I realized I felt exactly the same, she kissed me, you know the drill. That moment had all the makings of a perfect love story, if I’m being honest,” Roman swooned.

“That’s lovely, but I’m fairly certain that I, and not Janus, am your soulmate.”

“Ah, that’s where Janus’s genius comes in. Again.” Roman fluttered a hand to his chest, swooning once more. “They did research on that exact topic after realizing that ignoring their feelings would only lead them to more pain that they didn’t need, and you know what she found?”

“…Am I supposed to ask you a question for dramatic effect?”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Logan sighs. “Whatever did she find?” he drones, barely an iota of energy put into his look of mocking curiosity.

“Close enough!” Roman declares. “Since you asked so kindly, I’ll let you know that Janus found out that soulmates—drumroll, please—don’t have to be romantic.”

Logan’s exasperated expression dropped from his face immediately and his whole being seemed to brighten with new hope. “What did you just say?”

“Soulmates! Don’t have to be romantic!”

“Are you certain?”

“Are you doubting the research capabilities of the love of my life?”

“I thought I was the love of your life.”

“Exactly!” Upon seeing Logan’s frown, Roman amends, “I mean, you can both be! That’s what’s so great about this discovery! Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, and in fact, there are so many precedents for them not being romantic that I’m shocked, I’d never heard a word about any of them before today.” Roman’s bright expression dimmed the smallest bit as his voice became more serious. “My point is though, you can both be the loves of my life since there are so very many types of love to be expressed and I have a nearly infinite supply of love to go around.”

“Oh.”

Roman looks at him incredulously. “‘Oh?’ Is that all you’re going to say?”

“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll provide you with a more satisfactory reaction. I need to think about—”

“—what this means for you and Remy. Yeah, I know, I get it. You love him and he’s the best friend that you could ever ask for and you don’t want to ruin that by changing the label on your relationship.”

“…No. Not that at all.”

“No?” Roman asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Was that… was I not right?”

Logan tilted his head from side to side in contemplation. “Mm, those were my feelings before, but then—” he suddenly clamped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“No, please continue.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Aw, come on Lo. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, I know you won’t, not after what you just explained. I’m more worried about— about Remy right now.”

“Sorry?”

Logan takes a deep breath. “I kissed him.”

“You what now?”

“Or he kissed me, or… it’s a bit of a blur, actually. I can’t seem to remember exactly what happened, but—”

“Logan, love, why would Remy be upset with you because you kissed him?”

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Logan scrunches his face up as though trying to hide the emotions reveal themselves upon it. “It wasn’t the kiss.”

“What was it, then?”

“It’s… after the kiss, I… may have freaked out just a bit and decided it would be best for us to leave each other alone… ‘for a while’ I said, but I meant indefinitely.”

“Logan.”

Logan holds up a placating hand. “I’m perfectly aware that this was a terrible decision on my part, but in all fairness, I have never once claimed to be good at handling my emotions, especially not ones as overwhelming as what I feel for, uh. You know.”

“For Remy,” Roman says, looking expectantly at Logan. “You realize you’re going to have to admit out loud that you love him someday, right?”

Logan coughs awkwardly, looking to the side to hide his flushed face. “Yes, for— for Remy. Yes.”

“…That’s a start,” Roman concedes. “Now, what do you plan to do about your grade-a idiocy?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you should’ve.”

“I’m aware, Roman.”

“Would you like some assistance?”

“With… apologizing?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, I think that’s one thing I’ll be able to handle myself. I just have to call him, and everything will—”

“Hold on, hold up, stop right there. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

Logan freezes, fingers hovering just above his phone screen. “…Calling Remy to apologize to him?”

“After breaking his heart, you’re going to apologize with a phone call?”

“That was the plan, yes. Why?”

“Because that’s a terrible apology!”

“As far as apologies go, I think it’s actually pretty standard.”

“Sure, but this is the love of your life, we’re talking about, Logan. You can’t apologize to him over the phone. You need to shock him with a romantic gesture so grand that he’ll have no choice but to forgive you!”

“Do you think— do you think there’s a chance he won’t forgive me?”

“No!” Roman corrects quickly. “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. I just think that this is a bigger deal than you’re pretending it is, so a bit of romance certainly couldn’t hurt.”

“You may be right, but I’ve never…” Logan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well… if you don’t want to do something too grand and romantic, you can at least take him somewhere special.”

“Like a fancy restaurant?”

“No, not quite. More like… someplace that holds meaning for the two of you, you know?”

Logan lights up, positively glowing. “I think I have just the place.”

_________________________

“Remy darling, have you left the couch at all today?”

Remy pouts in response. “So what if I haven’t? I’m in emotional distress, babes.”

“Hm,” Janus hums. “While that’s fair, I still don’t think merely sitting around all day is going to do much to help with that.”

Remy’s pout grows. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

Janus laughs lightly. “Come on a walk with me? You need to leave the house again someday.”

“I don’t, actually. You’re a fancy lawyer, so I can become a lonely hermit who never leaves his house with no consequence. Besides,” he grins, and after so much practice, it hardly looks forced at all, “I have you, and what more could I want?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, but they don’t comment. “How about if you come on a walk with me anyway, and if you really want, we can even go to that criminally overpriced coffee shop you like so much.”

“The one that’s over a mile away?”

“That’s the one.”

“And we’d have to walk?”

“Remy, darling, walking is good for you. A mile is hardly anything, anyway.”

Remy continues pouting, hoping that something in his face will make Janus relent. “You’re starting to sound like Lo—” his voice gives out, and he has to clear his throat to continue sounding unaffected, “—like Logan,” he finishes. “And why do you want to go on a walk so much anyway?”

“I have something I’d like to talk to you about, and if we start having a conversation while you’re seated, you’ll inevitably start pacing around the room. I’m just taking preemptive action to avoid that, love.”

“Good point, but now I’m worried. What do you want to talk about?”

“Come on a walk and I’ll tell you,” Janus says, a wry smirk on his face.

“This is blackmail.” Remy looks at Janus dolefully, his pout having taken up permanent residence on his face at this point.

“Oh, you don’t have to come if it would inconvenience you that much. I can always go out and get coffee by myself.” She blinks innocently, knowing perfectly well that no matter what she says now, Remy’s mind has been made up. There’s no way he’s going to be able to sit at home knowing that Janus wants to talk to him about a very mysterious, very anxiety-inducing something.

“You know what—” Remy trails off mid-sentence, realizing he’s been beaten. “I’ll get my jacket,” he says begrudgingly, finally standing up from his spot on the couch.

Janus smiles in reply, standing up to go wait by the door. “Good choice.” When Remy returns, leather jacket wrapped around himself, they gesture to the now-open door. “After you.”

“Thanks bunches, doll. Now,” he says, the moment he’s stepped past the threshold, “what’s this you wanted to talk about?”

“Why don’t you wait until we get outside at the very least? It wouldn’t do for us to have made it all the way out the door only for you to return home after barely a minute.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses, Janus, my darling, my love, light of my life.”

“I would never,” she replies easily. “That’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Sure it is.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Just… walk down the stairs. That’s all I ask, love.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t possibly complete such an arduous task.”

“Remy—” Janus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. The task is arduous, I’m just skilled enough to complete it without even breaking a sweat.”

Janus raises a skeptical eyebrow, shaking their head at that. “Why do I put up with you,” she deadpans.

“Because you love me,” Remy sing-songs, bounding down the stairs ahead of them.

“How could I forget,” he murmurs, watching Remy with thinly veiled amusement.

“How indeed,” Remy agrees, having just barely overheard them from partway down the staircase. “Now come on, I don’t want to be kept waiting after you’ve mentioned an important conversation.”

Janus descends the stairs after Remy, silent until they reach the bottom.

“What’s up?” Remy asks again, stuck to Janus’s side once more like a lost puppy. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s… wrong, exactly. And we aren’t outside yet,” she points out.

“That’s not ominous at all, babe.” Remy rolls his eyes, but Janus can tell he only does it to mask his nerves.

“I suppose it is,” Janus muses.

“…So’re you gonna elaborate on that?”

Janus steps outside. “One block first, so you don’t decide to turn back as soon as I start talking.”

“You’re stalling,” Remy points out, but he doesn’t press the issue any further.

“So I am.”

The two walk almost one full block in companionable silence before Remy asks again, “What d’you want to talk about?”

“It hasn’t been a block yet,” Janus insists.

“Technicalities bore me. Spill.”

Sighing, Janus says with no preamble at all, “I kissed Roman.”

“Stop right there, hun. Now, I’m sorry, but you what?”

“Kissed Roman,” they repeat.

“Anything else you’re going to say about that? At all?”

“So many things.” Janus takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again.

“Go on then,” Remy says, gesturing for her to do so with a nod of his head.

“Right. Essentially, soulmates aren’t necessarily romantic, and I don’t love you in a romantic sense. I don’t love Roman in a romantic sense either, technically—but that’s an explanation for another day. All that matters right now is that, provided you’re alright with it, Roman and I would like to be in a queerplatonic relationship and would far prefer to be nothing more than friends with you and Logan. Close friends,” he adds, “best friends, even, but not romantically involved. There’s precedent for this sort of thing if you’re wondering, and I can pull up a few sources that I have saved—”

“No, you know, I think I’ll be fine without a lecture. I get the picture, but what do you expect me to say? That I’m not heartbroken, that I wasn’t ever in love with you either?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Janus narrows their eyes at Remy. “You aren’t heartbroken, and you weren’t in love with me, correct?”

“I, uh—”

“You don’t have to lie, especially not after I told you the same was true for me.”

“Yeah, okay. I haven’t been in love with you, I just thought that you loved me and I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you the opposite was true.”

“Well, you can stop that now. And you can admit you’re in love with Logan.”

Remy freezes. “Sorry?”

“You’re in love with Logan.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, but how did you manage to figure that out?”

Janus fixes him with an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh, Remy, darling, your crush was so obvious that I’m shocked the entire world didn’t see it.”

“It was?”

“Once I knew to look for it, very much so, yes. And you’re aware Logan loves you too, yes?”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m not. What makes you think he doesn’t love you?”

“Well, he sorta kinda said that we shouldn’t ever speak to each other again? And like, he kissed me before that—or maybe I kissed him? And I know I was a bit pushy afterwards with confessions and all that, but I thought he was alright with me kissing him or with him kissing me and I’d been certain he was in love, but then he sort of freaked out, so I’m getting a few mixed messages. But at the same time, I think saying ‘we shouldn’t see each other for a while’ is a pretty clear rejection, don’t you?”

“I think that Logan’s a moron sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“Hush now, I meant that in the kindest way possible. He’s not very skilled at recognizing or dealing with his emotions, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong—”

“I know.”

“—but I’m still not sure if he meant it?”

“He didn’t, Remy. I can assure you of that.”

“How do you know, though?”

“Observation. That, and the fact that he tried to distance himself from you after your kiss. He didn’t want to hurt you.” Janus pauses in mock contemplation. “That, or he truly does hate you with his entire being and never wants to see you ever again in his entire life.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, darling.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Janus says, echoing Remy’s previous words back at him with a smirk on his face.

“Mm, right.” Remy goes silent for twenty whole seconds before speaking again. “But like, should I talk to him? Just in case, or something?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s entirely necessary, and Roman should be updating him on this whole situation as we speak, but if you think you should clarify, then I suppose you— hang on.” Janus frowns, pulling their phone from their pocket and answering it.

“Roman? Yes, I’m with Remy. Why do you ask?”

She goes quiet, listening to the voice on the other end of the line before replying, “Oh?”

They laugh lightly. “Anything for you, love.” A smile still on his face, he hangs up and puts his phone away.

“What was that about?”

“That? Nothing, darling, nothing at all. If you feel so inclined though, you might want to stop by wherever it was that you first met Logan.” Janus gives him a knowing smile. “Just a thought.”

“What if I choose not to?”

“Well, I can’t exactly make you go, but I think you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

“And that means…?”

“I’m afraid that’s Logan’s secret to tell, not mine,” they say, blinking innocently. “Now, unless you absolutely have to get coffee, I’d recommend you go find the love of your life. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to lose your way.” She flutters her fingers in a wave, turning away. “Feel free to join me if you’d like, though.”

Even though they’d offered, she knew that Remy, of course, would never put anyone or anything before Logan and sure enough, when she turned back, Remy had already vanished around the corner.

_________________________

Everyone is made of stardust; each and every creation born of the remains of long-dead stars. This dust scattered across the universe at the dawn of time, forming galaxies and planets and stars—so very many stars—continuing to do so until the inevitable heat death of the universe, a constant cycle of creation.

If everyone comes from beauty, it only makes sense that they all contain it within themselves too, and it only makes sense that all creation is, in some way, magically, enchantingly interconnected. It also makes sense, then, that the stars—having come before nearly every other object in the known universe—understand these connections better than any other. Once those facts are taken into consideration, it’s no wonder at all that it is the stars that determine soulmates, and it’s the most widely accepted scientific theory as to why they do.

Logan knows all this about the stars, knows that everything that is and was is connected in impossible, unimaginable ways.

Remy knows this too, knows that things that come from beauty have every capacity to be beautiful themselves.

They both understand this, and yet it has taken them so long—so long—to apply that knowledge to themselves. It’s only as they walk alone upon tree-lined paths lit by twilight and look up at the sky, the first stars twinkling in their eyes, that they realize that if everyone and everything is beautifully connected, then they are too. And if they’re connected so beautifully, then what force in the universe could possibly keep them apart?

_________________________

“Do you think they’ll manage to work everything out?”

“Logan and Remy?”

“Mhm.”

Janus laughs, and it sounds like a fairy tale, like a golden bell forged from magic. “Contrary to popular belief, Logan is smart, so—”

Roman snorts, and it doesn’t sound like anything more than it is. It’s not poetic, it’s not the sort of thing to be lingered on in pretentious descriptions—it just is, and that’s why it’s perfect.

“Don’t laugh,” Janus says, laughing, “He is, albeit incredibly oblivious.”

“You can say that again.” It’s a muttered phrase, never one meant to be taken seriously, but Janus hadn’t ever claimed to play by the rules.

“He is, albeit incredibly oblivious,” they deadpan before continuing as though Roman hadn’t let out a laugh like light itself, shimmering so brightly that even in its softness, it couldn’t be missed. “But either way, I have no doubt that if you could come to your senses, they will too.”

Roman shoots up from his position lying across Janus’s lap. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice may sound offended, but the glimmer in his eyes betrays him.

“Oh, nothing at all, darling. I was merely implying that if Logan is oblivious, then we would need to invent an entirely new word to describe you.” Roman gasps, and Janus can see so many of her own mannerisms in the movement that her fond smile grows, could only ever grow around him. “I mean that in the best, most adoring way, of course.” His smile may have been replaced by a smirk then, but it doesn’t stay that way as not a moment later, Roman kisses it away.

“Of course you do,” he says, leaving behind another kiss—this one on Janus’s cheek—before adjusting his position. Now his head rests on Janus’s left shoulder, and he has much easier access to the line of their jaw and unfairly beautiful cheekbones (for kissing purposes, but also for admiration ones). “I know you love me.”

“Lies and slander,” Janus claims, but she’s burying her rapidly reddening face in Roman’s hair to breathe in the sunshine and cinnamon, so her words hold little weight.

Roman only laughs again, and this time Janus can feel the way the time pauses for the briefest of moments as their boyfriend blankets the world with his own form of magic, with a laugh that feels like fairy dust.

When the world resumes its usual rotation, Roman is smiling at him again. “I know you love me,” he repeats.

“I love you,” Janus agrees, voice softer and more honest than it’s ever been. Roman melts into him, humming contentedly as his face turns upwards, eyelashes fluttering in a silent request. And how could Janus possibly say no when her boyfriend has eyes burning with such light?

Janus kisses Roman, and the sky blazes with sunshine and fire. They meet, and they are a kilonova, showering the universe in gold. They aren’t soulmates, and they aren’t quite in love, but they are everything to each other and more and somehow, some way, they are perfect. So perhaps it’s fitting, then, that they aren’t soulmates. A word such as that couldn’t possibly define all that they are.

They both know intrinsically that there is no such thing as perfection, that it’s human to be imperfect. They know that some cycles are forever fixed and that somethings are meant to end.

So even though they know this and even though they may not be soulmates and even though they are aware that it is because of the stars that they met and because of the stars that they’re together, Janus and Roman will still never go gently into darkness, into the night. Just because they understand that perfection is an impossibility does not mean that they will not fight for something as near to it as they can get in every waking moment.

And as they rage against the dying of the light, the golden star that illuminates the world fights too, and it rises once more. Bathed in its glow, Janus and Roman are both unwaveringly confident in the fact that this moment, this sunrise, this picture-perfect kiss is… perfect. They know without a shadow of a doubt that no matter how unlikely, how impossible, they are perfect.

_________________________

“It’s been a while since we were here,” Remy muses, cresting the top of the hill, smiling when Logan comes into view. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Me too,” Logan says, returning his smile, so close to appearing calm, to hiding his nerves. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Anything for you.” Remy’s words were meant to sound cheeky, but they come out genuine in a way Logan can’t even begin to process.

Logan takes a breath when Remy is seated in front of him. “I have an apology to make.”

“Oh?” Remy cocks his head curiously. “Hun, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I was the one who overstepped my boundaries when I shouldn’t have and kept pushing for a confession of what I thought was the truth even after you denied it so vehemently and I—”

“Remy,” Logan sighs, “you have no reason to be sorry, I assure you.”

“I— what?”

Logan takes a breath, steeling himself. “Remy, I know I hurt you when I walked off the way I did and ceased all communication with you. And I— I also lied to you that night because I was… scared. I was scared to admit what I felt because I was scared that it would hurt someone else I care about, so I denied that I— Uh, that is to say, I denied what you said. I know that’s no excuse for not telling you the truth, but I hope you can forgive me nevertheless. I’m truly sorry for hurting you, Remy.

“And I— I love you. Hurting you broke my heart, and I never want to feel like that again.” Logan clears his throat, trying to continue speaking past the emotion beginning to clog it. “In any case though, even though we aren’t star-determined soulmates, if you’ll accept me, I’d still like you to be my boyfriend, and I yours. Because if I’m being perfectly honest, no matter what kind of relationship they dictate, the stars don’t matter, not really, because I choose you. I have always chosen you.”

Remy sits there for a moment, star-struck and silent. At long last, he finds his voice returned to him. It’s breathy and barely audible, but it’s there without a doubt because Logan knows—he knows—he hears Remy ask, “Can I kiss you?”

That isn’t, after all, the sort of request you would miss for anything less than the world.

And Logan knows—he knows—he’s been gifted the most beautiful thing in existence when he replies, “For the light of my life? Anything,” and Remy leans closer and he knows—he knows—that everything in the universe is right when they collide.

Together, they are stars. And like stars, they glow brighter together, side by side before they meet and emit a light so brilliant it could be seen across galaxies. Like stars, they collide and fall into each other and become one. Like stars, once they’ve touched they steal the light from the air around them to aid their luminance, and they shine and they glimmer and they gleam and they don’t want to ever let go.

And yet, they are more radiant than the most brilliant constellations, than quasars, than every star in the sky combined—so radiant that whole galaxies pale in comparison. Logan and Remy are stars, but they are also so much more.

They are human.

They are human, and that’s why the stars look upon them with such favor. They are human and imperfect, they are human and ablaze with more dazzling, glittering, intense light than even the stars themselves could possibly fathom, they are human and they are in love.

They are human, and as they kiss beneath the clear, bright sky, they realize that this—whatever this may be—is right. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but the stars don’t make mistakes. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but they were meant to find each other. Their kiss was meant to happen.

Logan and Remy are not soulmates. No, Logan and Remy are something ineffable, something human, something more, and if that means the stars painted their destiny in a different hue, then they are glad they can see all the colors of the sky.

_________________________

It is said that nothing so beautiful lasts forever, that nothing so bright survives for long. It is said that even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, along with any secrets it holds. It is said that every beautiful thing must die.

It is said that there is no such thing as perfection, that not a single person could ever be considered flawless. It is said that even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the stars of night. It is said that everything beautiful must die.

And it is true that beauty never lasts, but it isn’t meant to. Beauty so often exists because of uncertainty, because of the flighty nature of life. Everything beautiful must die, and that is why these beautiful moments are as beloved as they are. That is why Remy and Logan look at each other like they’re stars, why Roman and Janus allow themselves to be imperfect, why Remy allows himself to be vulnerable, why Logan admits that he’s not always right, why Roman stops putting on his never-ending show, why Janus allows themself to be truly honest, and why all of them will treasure each precious second from now until the end of time.

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

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sanderssidesgiftxchange · 4 years

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merry christmas @sandersidess !

title: Greens, Blues, and Flower Tattoos pairings: romantic remus/logan, romantic roman/deceit, background queerplatonic patton & virgil rating: T warnings: Blood mention, but it's not real blood wordcount: 2,970

summary: Logan owns the best tattoo parlor in town. Roman, one of his best artists and best friends, runs in one afternoon in gay panic over the new flower shop owner two doors down. Logan somehow gets talked into being a wing-man, and gets more than he bargained for when he runs into a gay panic of his own.

Featuring: Background QPPs Virgil and Patton as gossipy *beep*

notes: Happy Holidays Sandersidess! Hope you enjoy, this was an amazing prompt to work with.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #romantic intrulogical #romantic roceit #queerplatonic moxiety #sanderssantas19 #rated t #fanfic

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

Text

Knight in Training

Prompt: Sander sides royal AU idea!!! Well kinda-

I just wanna see Janus as a Knight! But like, he's kinda like a prodigy? He's a teen but somehow became a the personal knight of the Prince (Romano ofc)! And I guess Virgil works at the castle and thinks Janus is suspicious because how did he make it there??(Not unsympathetic but just sceptical) Idk roceit can be romantic/platonic/queerplatonic/familial. I just wanna read a royal roceit fic! If you're willing to write that is!! - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: janus is a lil paranoid but nothing bad

Pairings: platonic roceit and prinxiety

Word Count: 4616

Janus Declan is a prodigy; the youngest squire to be knighted in almost three decades. The personal knight to Prince Roman. Many boast that he has no more to learn, that he was almost born with the sword as part of his arm.

Janus has no ears for the boasts, however, not when he's preoccupied with the whispers and silences that follow the Spymaster.

And him.

Take off the gauntlets first, for better dexterity.

Lift the visor, remove the chin strap, take off the helmet so you can see what you’re doing.

Arms next, then pauldrons, then gorget. Ensure you can breathe and move your arms easily to reach the straps for the breastplate.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Te—

“You know, this is why I have you, you’re really not supposed to be doing that by yourself.”

Janus prides himself on only flinching slightly at the sudden sound of the voice breaking his concentration, quickly disguising it as a particularly sharp yank to pull the last of the breastplate ties free.

“…or maybe you can,” the voice continues, a hint of a smile coloring the words.

“Thank you, My Lord,” Janus demurs, quickly finishing with the rest of his armor and setting it aside. Another, far more elaborate set of armor lays next to it. “Shall I fetch the rags and polish?”

“Another hour or two of sitting there won’t hurt it any more than the four hours we spent training today. If anything, it might make it easier to clean.”

“As you wish, My Lord.”

A huff comes from behind him as he finishes setting everything up to, uh, ‘air out.’ He turns and folds his hands in front of him.

“Anything else, My Lord?”

The prince tilts his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his gaze flickers up and down Janus’s expression. He raises an eyebrow and indicates the frankly ridiculous chair across from him. Granted, it isn’t as ridiculous as the chair the prince is lounging in, but still…

Something about the garish embroidery and the plush velvet works against Janus’s sensibilities, oddly enough. Who knows why.

“There,” the prince says quietly as Janus finally sits, “you looked uncomfortable.”

And I’m sure this makes me look so much more comfortable.

As if he can hear him, the prince chuckles. “Janus, relax, it’s just a chair. It can’t hurt you.”

“I’m worried about hurting it,” he mutters under his breath.

The prince’s smile fades, leaning forward. “Janus, that chair has held up against far worse than you sitting like a child I’m about to scold in it. At this point, I’d be surprised if anything could damage it beyond repair.”

Unbidden, Janus’s gaze flickers to the swords the prince laid against the end of the table as they came in.

“…fair enough.” He sits back. “Though I will question what it is about the chair that makes you determined to take steel to it.”

Janus allows himself a small self-deprecating smile and bites his tongue.

“Well.” The prince claps his hands. “I’m starving. You are too, aren’t you? Come now, don’t lie, I saw you take down about three men the size of tree trunks during training, a man doesn’t do something like that and not work up an appetite.”

“I could eat.”

“Wonderful. I’ve told the servants to bring us something, they should be here before too long.” The prince sighs and props a boot up on the other chair. “Now all we have to do is wait.”

Janus looks politely at the hands in his lap. His eyes land on the way his right hand has wrapped almost instinctively around his left thumb. He shifts to correct his grip as if holding a sword. The calluses rub against the skin of his palm.

A memory, of finishing the first day of training and being unable to close his hand, staring at the flesh rubbed red and raw, eyes smarting with tears as even the breeze blowing by made him wince. Of his father, walking over to see what was taking his son so long to come in from the cold. Of eyes softening, just a little, cupping the little hand in his much bigger one and bidding him to come in.

You’ll toughen up, he’d said, gruffness tempered by the tremor in the child’s hand, then it won’t hurt so much.

So he’d grit his teeth and pushed. Pushed past the pain, past the chafing, past the wheeze and creak of skin too new to understand how to grip the pommel, until it would slide into his hand and fit.

“Janus? Janus, where did you go?”

This time he can’t disguise his flinch. “Sorry, My Lord, did you need something?”

The prince regards him with barely concealed amusement. “That’s the second time you’ve drifted away from me in barely ten minutes, should I be concerned?”

“Concerned, My Lord?”

“Is there another knight catching your eye?” He leans onto his hands. “A pretty maiden, perhaps?”

“No, not a maiden,” Janus says a bit too quickly and a bit too vehemently, “never a maiden.”

The prince, of course, just bursts out laughing. “Well, I suppose that answers a few lingering questions I may have had about you. But you didn’t answer my question about the knights, Janus.”

Heat floods his cheeks.

“Is that a ‘yes,’ then?”

“No, My Lord,” he grits out, pushing away the train of thought nudging invitingly at his brain. Not now, not here, leave me alone, I have to hold on to some dignity.

“Alright, alright,” the prince laughs, holding his hands up, “I believe you.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

He folds his hands on the desk and tilts his head. Janus finds his gratitude quickly retreating at the sight of familiar mischief in his gaze.

“But then what could have captivated your attention so completely? The smile widens. “It must’ve been pretty important.”

This is worse. Somehow this is worse.

The prince just waits patiently as Janus looks back down at his hands. This isn’t something he should be ashamed of, is it? Of remembering his first lesson? Or accidentally drifting off while he waits for the prince’s meal to come?

“Janus?” The prince taps the desk. “Did I lose you again?”

“No, My Lord,” he says quickly, “I was…I was just trying to figure out what to say.”

“Oh? And how come?”

“I…I’m sorry, My Lord, I didn’t mean to drift off.”

“All minds wander,” the prince says instead, “it’s what they do. I suppose I’m just curious as to where yours went.”

“…to my first lesson, My Lord, with my father.” His right hand flexes. “To the way my palm used to hurt before I developed the calluses for the grip.”

The prince winces in sympathy, raising his right hand too. “For me, it was here. Right between my thumb and forefinger. I remember training in the cold and the skin splitting because of how much I worked it.”

“Can you…form a callus there, My Lord?”

“Oh, I’m sure you can form a callus just about anywhere if you try hard enough. In my case, though, it was more an issue of learning how to hold the sword properly,” he finishes in an excellent impression of the swordmaster.

“…so he’s always sounded like that, My Lord?”

“For as long as I can remember, yes.” The prince wrinkles his nose. “And long after we’re both sick of hearing it, I’m sure.”

Janus tries to smile at the prince’s joke, but a different sentence rings in his head instead.

If this boy can do it, the swordmaster had barked at the older—much older squires, then you men must get that ale out of your ears!

“You’re drifting again.” The prince holds out a hand when Janus startles so badly he almost jolts out of the chair. “Easy, Janus, it’s alright.”

“My apologies, My Lord.”

“None of that, now,” he says, even when Janus clenches his jaw stubbornly, “in a way, it’s flattering.”

“…flattering, My Lord?”

A soft smile comes to the prince’s face. “I’ve seen you train, Janus, I’ve seen how well you can anticipate what your opponent is going to do next. It’s like you have eyes in the back of your head, ears everywhere. You can hear a sword whistling toward you even when you’ve locked steel with someone else. You fight like a knight twenty years your senior.”

The prince’s praise washes over him, just this side of too warm. He shifts.

“And yet…here you are,” he continues, softer now, “jumping at the sound of my voice like a boy five years younger. I suppose I’m thankful that my chambers don’t register as a threat.”

“No, My Lord,” Janus mumbles, “thank you, My Lord.”

Thankfully, there’s a knock on the door and Janus springs up before the prince has finished saying ‘enter.’ He accepts the jug of ale from the servant, holding the door as they bring in the platters of food. He thanks them each as they leave, smiling as the old kitchen worker pats his cheek and calls him sweet. He’s about to close the door when he catches sight of a dark cloak whisking around the corner.

His smile fades and he closes the door a little louder than he meant to.

“Come,” the prince calls from where he’s portioning out the meat and rolls onto plates, “eat, you must be famished.”

Janus sets the jug carefully on the edge of the table and sits, reaching for the plate the prince offers him. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“Thank me by helping me finish this frankly ridiculous amount of food they brought,” the prince grumbles, as if Janus hadn’t been in the room when he’d told them to bring enough for two knights. “You’re a growing man, I’m sure you can find it in you to put away at least half of this.”

“My stomach is not as impressive as yours, My Lord,” Janus says without thinking.

The prince, of course, doesn’t seem to mind in the least, reaching over to pour Janus’s goblet. “The best way to learn is practice,” he says with mock seriousness, winking as he lifts his own drink, “come on, I can hear your stomach growling.”

The food is delicious, nothing that Janus should be able to eat, by any means, and yet he can barely taste any of it. It settles heavily in his stomach, chased by the whisk of a dark cloak and purple eyes that seem to penetrate his armor.

The prince may think he’s alert to threats on the battlefield and the training grounds, but nowhere is he more finely attuned than the walls of the castle. Where he can hear the whispers about the prince’s prodigy, already a private knight, or wonder boy, plucked from obscurity.

Or the child, who moved so quickly into the prince’s inner circle with a sword in hand.

Worse still are the silent gazes that settle under his skin. None more potent than the ones with purple eyes.

“You’re starting to worry me.”

Janus’s head jerks sharply around, meeting the prince’s gaze. He frowns, setting aside his napkin and staring at him.

“You’re still going somewhere else,” he continues, “but this…this one isn’t good. You’re a little too young for that.”

The joke falls flat as genuine concern begins to lace the prince’s words. Janus swallows. “My apologies, My Lord.”

“If you keep apologizing, Janus, you’ll be apologizing for existing.”

When Janus doesn’t say anything, the prince’s eyes widen.

“Janus, what’s the matter?” He turns his chair, moving closer. “What is this, what’s going on?”

“N-nothing, My Lord, I—“

“Don’t lie to me,” the prince chides, gentle but firm, “something is wrong, tell me what it is, whatever it is, we can fix it.”

How is Janus supposed to say something? And what is he supposed to say? That he’s exhausted, from a day of training where he’s been used as an example, the blueprint, for men at least five to ten years his senior? That he’s uncomfortable, equal parts from the praise he gets from making it to the prince’s private knight at such a young age and the disgust he gets from older knights who have served for many years?

That he’s terrified of the lies and games he doesn’t know how to play and that if someone says that he’s lied his way into being here, he won’t know what to say because he agrees with them?

What ends up coming out of his mouth, however, is none of these.

“W-why was the Spymaster lurking—walking outside your chambers, My Lord?”

A bit of relief comes to the prince’s face. “You can say ‘lurking,’ Janus, that is what he’s doing. Did you see him outside just now, is that what scared you?”

Real knights don’t get scared, a part of him wants to blurt out, but he swallows it and simply nods.

“I know the feeling,” the prince mutters, “speaking of being caught off-guard, I remember him sneaking up over my shoulder during a council meeting and I shrieked in front of a whole court of nobles.”

Janus stifles a laugh.

“You can laugh, it’s alright. From the way they tell it, I sounded like one of the new puppies crying out for its mother.” The prince shakes his head. “I swear, after that he did it on purpose.”

“…does he still do it, My Lord?”

The prince huffs. “When he thinks he can get away with it, sure. And don’t bother trying to get him back, he rivals you for how hard it is to sneak up on him.”

When Janus doesn’t look reassured, he tilts his head.

“Is there something else?”

Yes, he wants to scream, why does he look at me like that, why does he look at me like he can see through me, why does he look at me like he knows I’m not supposed to be here?

“A little louder,” the prince says quietly when Janus mumbles.

“…why doesn’t he like me, My Lord?”

“Why doesn’t he like you? Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” the prince says quickly when Janus wrenches his gaze away in shame, “come back—look at me, Janus.”

“My apol—“

“Enough of that,” the prince interrupts, leaning forward to brace a hand on Janus’s chair, staring at him intently. “Has he said something to you?”

“N-no, My Lord, not—not really, he just—he—“

“Take your time,” he says when Janus can’t stop stammering, “it’s alright.”

“He looks at me like…like…”

The prince hums. “Like he’s reading you off of some scroll or piece of paper, right?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Janus twists his hands together. “And like he doesn’t like what he’s reading.”

The food sits like a rock in Janus’s stomach, the whispers crawling up his shoulders. He longs for the uncomfortable weight of the breastplate to cover him, of the sword in his hand against his palm. He longs for the visor to hide his face.

“Janus,” the prince says after a moment, “does he scare you?”

“…yes, My Lord.”

“Because of the way he looks at you?”

“…because he’s right.”

The prince’s eyes widen. “Right about what, Janus?”

Janus’s grip on his thumb tightens. “I’m—I’m too young to be here, My Lord. I’m barely a man, I’ve only been—you knighted me only when I couldn’t be taken as your squire so I could be your knight. I don’t know how—how anything works and I…”

He swallows heavily, the confession weighing on his tongue.

“He’s right to be suspicious of me, My Lord.”

The prince is quiet. The silence echoes around and around Janus’s head. Then he sighs and bids him to look up again.

“When do we stop using practice swords, Janus?”

Janus frowns. “My Lord?”

“Answer me, Janus, when do we stop using practice swords?”

“…when we can’t learn any more from them and we have to get used to steel.”

The prince nods. “When do we start training in full armor?”

“When we have to learn how to move in full plate, My Lord, what—“

“When do squires become knights,” the prince interrupts, holding his gaze, “at what point?”

“…when they can’t be taught anything else before they have to learn themselves?”

The prince nods. “There would be no point in you training as a squire for years, Janus, there is nothing more the swordmaster could teach you without you stagnating. There is nothing more for you to do except train and practice, and you couldn’t do that if you were still a squire.”

Janus nods dumbly.

“It’s true, you don’t know the rules of court or politics yet, but you don’t learn those before you move out of the training grounds. You are still learning, Janus, you’re not done learning, you never will be, but you were done learning from them, do you understand?”

“I’m—“ he swallows through a suddenly-dry throat— “I’m learning from you now, My Lord?”

“That’s right.” The prince’s hand moves from the chair to Janus’s shoulder and his gaze darts to it. The prince pays him no mind. “You’re young, yes, I think you know that too, but age is no guarantee of efficiency. You are here, as my knight, because you need to keep learning. To be better, yes?”

“Y-yes, My Lord.”

“You’re supposed to be here, Janus,” the prince says softly, “I want you here.”

Oh.

“Th-thank you, My Lord.”

The prince smiles. “And I think we can drop the ‘My Lord,’ now, at least here.”

“…then what do I call you?”

“You know my name, don’t you?”

“...Roman?”

“That’s it,” the prin—Roman smiles, “now, is there something else? I can see you don’t look entirely reassured.”

Janus fumbles with his hands again. “…the Spymaster…why was he here tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Roman squeezes his shoulder. “But it probably wasn’t for you, Janus.”

A candle flickers and the ale sends the light dancing across the wall.

“He really does scare you,” Roman murmurs, mostly to himself, “doesn’t he?”

Janus nods, embarrassment flooding his face as he hangs his head. Something prickles at the corners of his eyes and oh, no, he is not going to cry about this right now, not in front of the prince. He is not going to make him deal with this. He will not act like a newly minted squire away from home for the first time.

“Oh, dear,” Roman says softly, cupping the back of Janus’s neck and resting their foreheads together, “it’s alright, Janus, it’s alright.”

It is not alright, because Janus is on the verge of tears in the prince’s chambers just for being scared of someone and that is not what he should be doing. He should be thanking the prince for his kind words and his appointment of Janus, he should not be relying on him for comfort like he’s a boy again.

Roman just lets out another soft noise, his thumb stroking gently against the skin on Janus’s neck. His hand burns, drawing the tears closer and closer to the surface. He shudders.

And just when things can’t get any worse, there’s a knock on the door.

Roman sits up but keeps his hold. “Yes?”

The door swings open and—

“Oh, good, you’re done eating.”

Janus squeezes his eyes shut. One tear drips down his face but if he can keep the rest of them in—

Head down. Round your shoulders. Stay still. Stay quiet.

“So that was you skulking around outside,” Roman says lightly, “did you need something?”

“You sound upset,” the Spymaster says, “is this a bad time?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. So tell me what you need and kindly leave.”

“My, my, I see your diplomacy lessons have been paying off.” The floor creaks. “Has something happened to your knight?”

Janus flinches.

“Awful jumpy for a knight, isn’t he?”

“You,” Roman says sharply, “are not helping.”

The Spymaster laughs. “What, are you saying he’s scared of me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, he’s smarter than he looks.”

A sob bursts out of Janus’s mouth before he can stop it and he claps a hand over his mouth.

“…oh, shit.”

“Yes, Virgil, ‘oh, shit.’”

Janus is not paying attention anymore, too focused on keeping his sobs inside his throat, when there’s suddenly someone crouched by his side.

“Hey, kiddo,” says another gentle voice, “can you take a deep breath for me?”

No. No, if he moves his hand, he’s going to start crying.

“I need you to move your hand, kiddo, you’re hurting yourself.”

Then Roman’s thumb rubs against his neck again and a sob chokes out before he can stop it.

“Shh, shh, that’s it,” the voice soothes when it turns into a pained whine, “it’s okay, that’s what’s going to happen, good. Here.”

Something soft is pressed into his hands. Napkin, it’s a napkin.

“Cry into that, it’ll help.” As soon as he raises it to his face, he gasps. “Good, Janus, let it out. It’ll hurt more if you try and stop it.”

He doesn’t know how long he spends with his face buried in a napkin with Roman’s hand cupping the back of his neck, but he does know that when the sobs finally taper off, his head rings from it and the napkin is ruined.

“Good,” the voice murmurs, “now, can you try and take a deep breath?”

Air wheezes in and out of his lungs. The voice keeps asking, gently guiding him through it until he can breathe again.

“Good, Janus,” the voice says softly, “now, can you look at me?”

No, because I know who you are and I don’t want to.

“It’s okay,” Roman says softly, giving the back of his neck a gentle squeeze, “he won’t hurt you.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Janus takes a deep breath and looks at him.

The Spymaster…doesn’t look like the Spymaster. His face is softer, his gaze kinder, a small smile on his face as he looks up at him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says gently, “that was a lot, huh?”

Janus nods.

“Do you need something to drink?” When he nods again, he reaches out and hands him a goblet. “Here. Go slow, alright? It might still be hard to breathe normally.”

“T-thank you, sire.”

“You’re welcome.” After he takes a few sips, the Spymaster sighs. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“F-for what, sire?”

The Spymaster raises an eyebrow. “For that, at the very least, but from what it sounds like, you’ve been upset for a while, haven’t you?”

“…yes, sire.”

He glances at Roman. “You haven’t had any success at getting him to drop the ‘sire,’ have you?”

“For me, it’s ‘My Lord.’”

“Mm.” When he looks back at Janus, he shakes his head. “How old are you, kiddo?”

“Seventeen, sire.”

“Seventeen…” He sighs. “I may have forgotten about that.”

Janus frowns. “Sire?”

“Prince Roman has…let’s say enlightened me about something I might have overlooked.”

“’Might have,’ he says,” Roman grumbles.

“My job,” the Spymaster says, ignoring him, “is to be on guard all the time to keep the kingdom safe. That includes…looking at people.”

“L-like me?”

He nods. “Like you. And…frankly, anyone rising through the ranks as quickly and as efficiently as you did is enough for me to start paying attention.”

He reaches out and offers a hand. After a pause, Janus takes it.

“But you’re a boy still,” the Spymaster says, “and I…may have forgotten how scary something like that can be for someone who hasn’t grown up around…this.”

“You can say ‘you,’ we all know you want to.”

“Funny, I could say the same about you.”

Janus just looks between the two of them, hopelessly confused as to what’s going on, until the Spymaster squeezes his hand and he jumps.

“Easy,” he says, “am I still…right now?”

“S-sorry, sire.”

“Don’t apologize if you’re afraid, is it something I’m doing right now?”

“Reflex fatigue,” Roman murmurs.

“Wait, what?” Janus looks between them as the Spymaster makes an ‘ah’ sound. “What—what is reflex fatigue, My L—Roman?”

“When you’ve been on edge for too long,” Roman explains softly, “and you’ve stopped being on edge, then you start to become…jumpier, so to speak, when you’ve got somewhere safe to be.”

“Your sense of focus is trying to fix itself,” the Spymaster continues, “but it won’t always be easy to figure out how to do that.”

“O-oh.”

The Spymaster squeezes his hand again, frowning when Janus still clenches his jaw. “When was the last time you went to a physician?”

“I’m not injured, sire.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Virgil,” Roman warns.

“Roman, he’s—“

“Terrified, Virgil, just look at him—”

“—touch starved.”

Roman freezes. He looks back at Janus and something in his expression breaks. “Oh, Janus…”

“I’m—“ Janus looks back and forth between them— “I’m what?”

“What does my touch feel like,” the Spymaster asks gently, “right now?”

“It, um…it’s really warm.”

“Does it burn?”

“…a little.”

He nods. “What about Roman’s hand?”

“The—the same?”

“You’re not used to touch,” he says softly, “it’s overwhelming for you. That’s why it burns.”

“Oh.” Janus frowns. “Why would I need to go to the physician?”

“Well, he would be the one to diagnose it, officially, but he also might have some idea of how to help you.” The Spymaster’s thumb runs over the back of his hand. “But Roman might be able to do that too.”

Janus’s eyes widen. “He—you—“

“You’re not the first,” Roman says, gently squeezing the back of his neck again, “to be hurt by this. But it might be worse for you since you’re so isolated.”

“This isn’t something you’ve done wrong,” the Spymaster says before Janus can say anything, “but it is something you should let people help you with.”

“How do you do that?”

He smiles. “It’s my job, kiddo. And I’m sorry that I’ve scared you so much. I can…well, I can’t promise to turn it off, but I can promise I don’t think you’re a threat.”

“You like him,” Roman says easily, “don’t lie.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can talk.”

“I know.” Another gentle rub from his thumb. “But I think that’s enough for right now, isn’t it?”

Janus is having trouble paying attention to everything, right now, thank you. The Spymaster chuckles and gives his hand another squeeze.

“Get some rest,” he bids gently as he stands, “good night, My Lord.”

“Yes, you get out.” As the door closes, Roman guides Janus’s gaze back to his. “That was a lot, I’m sure, Janus, are you alright?”

Janus blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. “I’m…touch starved?”

“Touch starved, exhausted, and still very much vulnerable right now,” Roman murmurs, concern warming the hand on his neck as he tugs him closer, “do you feel any better?”

“…a little?”

“Good. That’s good. Are you still hungry?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you go next door to your chambers and rest,” he suggests, “I remember being seventeen and overwhelmed too.”

Janus looks at him shyly. “How long did it take you to…stop?”

Roman smiles ruefully. “Ten years…and I still haven’t fully figured it out. We never stop learning, Janus.”

“I guess not.”

“Come on,” Roman coaxes, getting him up and walking toward the door that connects their rooms, “go get settled. If you need anything, just come through, alright?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Roman.”

Roman smiles and gently pushes him through the door.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori @mavenmush @justablah65

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

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #virgil sanders

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hydra-collector · 3 years

Note

A roceit headcannon of mine is that they meet up one day every week to do self-care things. Like sleepovers (with the makeover and gossiping and everything) or theatre plays or dancing or even fighting! Fighting as in fencing or swordfighting because Janus refuses to anything he doesn't deem "sophisticated". They stopped doing them after POF but got back to doing all those things with additions after they made up and they always remind each other that they really love and care for each other (this can be romantic, platonic or queerplatonic and I love. that) ❤💛

anon this is amazing and i absolutely agree

#just.. Them... hanging out...#and i LOVE these headcanons bc yes!! they have a lot of shared interests!!!#thank u anon ur awesome #grays asks #roceit #janus mention #roman mention

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ts-storytime-summaries · 3 years

Text

Warnings: miscommunication, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Characters: logan, virgil, roman, remus, background janus and patton

Romantic pairings: endgame romantic logan/virgil/remus, established queerplatonic moceit, established romantic roceit

Summary: logan has had a crush on his coworkers, virgil and remus, since he started working at the aquarium. despite constant egging on from remus's brother roman and their agent janus, logan refuses to act on his feelings because there's no way they like him back . . . is there?

(OR: roman and remus are mer, logan and virgil are aquarium employees, Everyone Is Gay, and shenanigans ensue)

#text #2021 summary

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on-fic-writing-spree · 4 years

Text

Hey guys! This just a masterpost full of links to writings / moodboards I’ve done. Longer writings are listed at the top, drabbles are at the bottom! Always feel free to send in more prompts :)

If you like the writing, reblog, heart, or leave comments!

Also, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if I missed tagging something, or ask for me to tag things if you need me to!

Tag List

Rules for prompt requests linked here

My AO3 (you can find all of these there too)

Fanfics:

How Easy to Ruin (name is a work in progress, I’m not certain yet, on AO3 instead because tumblr is annoying with links)

Failed Soulmate Dukeceit AU (cause I can’t name for shit) - tumblr links

Ficlets (short stories): will be added onto ao3 later

Ficlet - based on a song - Logince fluff

Ficlet - based on a song - Roceit but Roman cheats on Janus with Logan

Ficlet - based on a song - Virgil thinks a little too much about Janus after leaving

Ficlet - based on a song - New Years Eve party gone terribly wrong

Ficlet - request based - Dyscalculate Logan comforted by Remus

Ficlet - request based - Unsympathetic Patton story (wip)

Drabbles: also found on AO3 here

Drabble 1 /Ramble on Janus misses Virgil, whom he’s pretty much always considered a son.

Drabble 2 - Moceit baking

Drabble 3 - Dukeceit cuddles

Drabble 4 - Brotherly arguing and Virgil has a headache

Drabble 5 - Dark Sides Family

Drabble 6 - Virgil and Janus angst, a few potential triggers listed at the top

Drabble 7 - Remus and Virgil take a trip to Remus’s castle in the imagination

Drabble 8 /Headcanons - Analogince Headcanons

Drabble 9 - Roman is a jerk sometimes :/

Drabble 10 - Ace Logan babyyy

Drabble 11/ Ramble on - ro mistakes queerplatonic relationship between Logan and Virgil to be romantic

Drabble 11 - Daddy Dee and his son Virgil angst, some potential triggers

Drabble 12 - “you feel like home” logicality fluff

Drabble 13 - wip bc I’m changing the thing that was originally here into a ficlet since it’s so long oops

Drabble 14 - Remus picks out Janus the perfect gift

Drabble 15 - Remus being affectionate

Drabble 16 - Logan is tired and is a flirty tired dork

Drabble 17 - unsympathetic Patton separates the twins

Drabble 18 - Janus’s three loves

Drabble 19 - Remy puts Virgil and Remus to bed

Ramble on - sleep hcs for the sides

Crack fics: my ao3 has incorrect quotes and crack listed there if you guys wanna check that out

I have a singular one and doubt I’ll ever write something as stupid as this again, vague prinxiety undertones

Moodboards (yes you can request these):

All the sides moodboards originals

Aro Remy (Sleep) Moodboard

Aro Remus Moodboard

Bisexual Remus Moodboard

Genderfluid Janus Moodboard (wip)

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Masterpost

This is a list of all my fanfictions and drabbles, loosely categorized by category, length, and pairing! You can also find them under the tag #averywrites. Feel free to prompt me if you want to see me write something! My Ao3 account is Avery_Kedavra.

Multichapter Fics:

Valley of the Dolls: Platonic DLAMPR. In progress. When Roman becomes a Dark Side, Remus is thrilled to have his brother around. But soon it becomes clear that without Creativity, everyone in the Mindscape is falling apart.

Leave No Trace: Romantic Moceit. Completed at 198k. Patton, his maybe-enemy Janus, and his best friend Virgil journey through a magical forest to rescue their friends from the dragons.

A Conversation I Overheard: Romantic LAMP. In progress. Roman attempts to support his friends’ new relationship, but struggles to get past his own feelings.

Events:

Soulmate September: A oneshot for each day, different pairings and different ways of finding your soulmate.

Whumptober: A oneshot for each day, different AUs and different hurt/comfort prompts (or just hurt, it depends!)

Holiday Exchanges: Yes, I entered enough to make a separate masterlist. Don’t judge me.

Oneshots:

Romantic:

LAMP:

Too Far Gone: Human AU. 16K words. Logan plays matchmaker for his three oblivious best friends. Then he realizes he doesn’t just see them as friends.

Logince:

Couldn’t Care Less: 4K words. Logan reluctantly agrees to accompany Roman on a quest in the Imagination, but after Roman gets hurt, Logan blames himself.

If Only To Say You’re Mine: Human AU. 2K words. Roman calls Logan late at night under the guise of conversation, but soon it’s clear that something else is going on.

Prinxiety:

Wherever We Are (It Feels Like Home): 8K words. When Virgil messes up and tries to apologize to Roman, Roman thinks something very different is going on--and they learn they might have some things to figure out.

Logicality:

Would You Be So Kind: Human AU. 4K words. Patton finally asks out his crush, but it doesn’t go as planned.

Loceit:

Enjoy This As Much As I Do: Human AU. 1.4K words. Logan doesn’t understand his feelings for Janus, but for once, he’s content with leaving it unknown. (Based off an AU by @/coconut-cluster.)

‘Cause It’s All About You: Human AU. 2K words. Janus might have made a mistake--but if he pretends everything’s fine, maybe they can forget about it. (Based off an AU by @/coconut-cluster.)

Dance With Losing It All: Spies AU. 3K words. After Janus gets hurt, Logan’s left struggling to help. (Based off a oneshot by @/coconut-cluster.)

Dukeceit:

Dry Ice: Human AU. 1.7K words. Remus has a terrible idea and Janus does his best to stop him.

Desleep:

The Days We’ve Been Waiting For: Human AU. 1K words. Remy attempts to cook breakfast for Janus on their anniversary.

Queerplatonic:

Dukeceit:

Will You Be There To Follow: Human AU. 3K words. Remus and Janus debate the merits of possible pets.

Platonic:

DLAMPR or DLAMPRT:

Make It Your Own: 3.9K words. Songfic of Streaks by ANIMA! The other Sides write stories but never Logan never participates. The reason why is complicated.

Come and Save My Day: 3K words. Since the last video, Roman hasn’t left the Imagination. When his brother drags him out, he receives the last thing he expected.

All I Want is Serenity: 13K words. Roman knows he needs to be perfect, but his persona is slipping, and he knows the other Sides will hate him when they find out how weak he really is.

Ready as I’ll Ever Be: 5.5k words. Post-FWSA. Roman and Virgil are excited about Thomas’ new date, but the other Sides raise some concerns.

DLAMP:

Aftermath: 2K words. Immediately after Putting Others First, Virgil deals with the fallout.

A Vision With Nowhere To Go: 1.7K words. Roman gathers the other Sides for assistance with picking his skirt.

LAMP:

Only Logical: 9K words. When Thomas is, once again, incapacitated due to his emotions, Logan takes the others to his room so they’ll finally listen to him.

Roceit:

Set All My Regrets on Fire: 10k words. Roman wants to apologize. Janus wants to explain. It's a shame neither of them can work up the courage to say hello.

Logince:

Our Bodies Made of Stardust: Human AU. 10K words. When Logan was six, he broke his arm trying to touch the stars. This is how he finally managed, twelve years later.

Logicality:

I Keep To Myself (I Want To Break Through): 10k words. Thomas worries that pursuing a relationship with Nico would be a huge mistake. When Logan and Patton try to help, they learn there’s something deeper going on.

Prinxiety:

Babysitters: Human AU. 600 words. After Roman and Virgil lose the kids they’re babysitting, they reluctantly team up to track them down.

Dukeceit:

No Longer Will You Deceive Yourself: 2K words. Remus knows Janus is going to leave. He just wishes Janus would get it over with.

Analogical:

Leap in the Dark: High school AU. 2K words. The last thing Virgil wants to do is talk on stage. But if he doesn’t, Logan has to, and Logan also doesn’t want to be seen.

Creativitwins:

Ever Slightly Out Of Reach: Ghost AU. 8K words. Roman doesn’t want to leave the house. Remus makes him a map, so he won’t get lost while Remus is gone. (Based off an AU by @/fanartfunart.)

No Pairings:

Scary: 500 words. Just a quick Remus angst drabble.

Honestly: 1.2k words. Virgil’s thoughts during Flirting With Social Anxiety.

Theories:

Paranoia Theory: Written on 4/22/20. Why Deceit taunts Virgil about his name in SvS. (Edit on 3/28/21: I should have written this earlier, but this theory wasn’t okay. ‘Paranoia’ headcanons misrepresent a serious symptom and experience of mental illness, and I was ignorant of that. I’m leaving the post up for completeness, but please know that I sincerely apologize and no longer stand by this theory.)

Orange Side Theory: Written on 5/5/20. My take on the possibility of Logan’s Dark Side.

Analyses and Metas:

SvS Analysis: My analysis of Selfishness v. Selflessness.

ATHD Analysis: My analysis of Are There Healthy Distractions.

Logan’s Apologies Analysis: How Logan apologizes in LNTAO and how it reflects his character.

Analysis of ‘You’re a Cad’ and Janus: An (over)analysis of the song You’re A Cad and Janus’ relationships with Virgil and Roman.

Headcanons:

“Tells” Headcanon: When one of the Sides is feeling down, they have a system to let the others know.

Pets Headcanon: What the Sides’ pets are and why.

#masterpost

198 notes · View notes

max-is-tired · 4 years

Note

bad things happen request: A1 + roceit? -ren

Remember me (for centuries)

Pairing: the AU is queerplatonic Roceit and romantic Analogicality, but the ships are not very prominent in this installment

Characters: Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders

Words: 3.835

Warnings: superhero AU, implied morally grey Janus, Remus and Roman, superpowers, swearing, a muzzle is used, fighting, there’s a character (OC) that has very black and white views and definitely goes too far because of it, if I need to add anything else please tell me

Notes: guess who’s back babey!!!!! After two months of writer block, I’ve managed to churn out this little monster in less than 3 days and I’m honestly lowkey real proud of it sjkcndjkscn it’s inspired by this idea I had the other day and after I remembered this specific prompt I just went full feral writer mode. I even have a few ideas for a sequel, so there’s that I guess!!

First fic for the @badthingshappenbingo!! The red squares are prompts that have already been requested, feel free to send more in though!! I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get to them but hopefully you won’t have to wait too long. Hope you guys like the fic!!!

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!! AO3!!

Once upon a time, there was a King.

He was as regal as he was mysterious, powers so strong he might as well have been able to make literal mountains kneel before him. Everyone knew of him, from the filthiest criminal to the richest man. He saw everything, heard everything, nothing and no one could escape his power. He was the judge and the executioner, protected the city in the way he saw most fit with the Puppeteer and the Duke standing at his sides.

The government called him dangerous. The people secretly called him a hero.

Once upon a time, there was a King. Until one day, he was no more -exactly how Roman had wanted it to be.

+++

Parting ways with Janus and Remus hadn't been easy. They'd been at his side since the very beginning, from the first appearance of his power to his decision to do whatever it took to protect those who couldn't.

"I'm always down to fight the government," Janus had said with a smirk, easily slipping into his Puppeteer alter ego as Remus simply swung his morning star around with a feral grin.

In the end, though, the King had had to go, and even then those two had supported his decision. What Roman had done to deserve his brother and his partner, he still had to understand. And besides, it wasn't as if he had had to cut them out of his life or anything! They still hung out lots during the day, either at the twin's apartment or at Janus' penthouse (being the only heir to a very rich family could have its perks, he supposed).

But at the end of the day, when the sun left the sky and the cover of the night fell over the city, it was the Puppeteer and the Duke who patrolled along the dirty rooftops, taking on those crimes Lady Justice seemed to overlook -Roman was nothing but a college student now and could only watch from afar, some part of him stubbornly longing for days that had since come to an end.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Then, well, Patton had happened.

They had met during a Psychology class they were both taking -for Patton, it was for his major, while Roman was just there for the credit. They had hit it off almost immediately, the both of them bonding over the pain that were morning classes and bemoaning how much money they were probably going to spend at the local coffee shop in order to survive the semester.

As much as he prided himself of being way smarter than people gave him credit for, Roman couldn't say he had figured his classmate's secret identity out immediately. It had taken him a few weeks and even then, he had needed Janus' help for his brain to click the dots into place.

Well, actually, it had been thanks to the recordings of one of the Puppeteer and the Duke's patrol sessions, during which the two had managed to stumble upon the new ragtag trio of superheroes, Storm, Heart and Logic, taking care of a small robbery downtown.

Janus and Roman had been analyzing the video, with Remus unhelpfully chucking pieces of popcorn at the back of their heads, when video-Heart had thrown his head back and laughed, grinning from ear to ear as Logic seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Roman had frozen, the laugh ringing clear as day in his head as the last piece of a puzzle he hadn't known had been there slid into place -he knew that laugh, heard it every Tuesday and Friday morning before class as he sipped at his coffee and watched Patton try to fit as many puns as he could into a single sentence.

Patton was Heart. His friend was a superhero. Well, shit.

So yeah, Roman had figured it out and immediately started panicking about the newfound information. Janus and Remus, of course, had found the entire thing hilarious, teasing him about having somehow managed to stumble upon and befriend a superhero without even knowing it.

In the end, though, what exactly could he do? Roman was only a college student, and it wasn't like Patton was doing this alone -he had Storm and Logic by his side, keeping him safe and watching his back. His friend would be fine.

Then, of course, in came Virgil and Logan, the infamous roommates Patton had wanted to introduce him to since day one. In less than an hour, Roman had managed to help Pat gently bully Virgil out of his binder for the night and start a debate with Logan about the scientific accuracy of Elsa's powers and just how theoretically powerful she could have become based on the abilities she had showed in the movies.

(Olaf's existence had sparked a whole other tangent about conscience and the existence of souls on a metaphysical level, but Roman was not going to think about it lest he ended up having another existential crisis).

The real plot twist had happened much later into the night, when Roman had woken up to frantic whispering and soft rustling coming from somewhere to his right. Still keeping his eyes shut, he'd managed to catch the words "robbery" and "be careful" before hearing one of the windows gently slide shut.

Making sure to not alert anyone about his eavesdropping, Roman had waited until all he could hear was steady, even breathing before quietly sitting up, eyes shining gold into the darkness for a second before spotting Logan and Patton's figures on the ground -as for Virgil, he seemed to be nowhere to be found, the apartment being completely silent beside the two sleeping soundly beside him.

Roman had a suspicion. A very nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that was probably going to bother him until he got to the bottom of his. So, in the morning, he'd said goodbye to his new friends and headed to Janus' place, pondering over alternative explanations on the way over. Not that it would have been of any use since Janus did confirm that a robbery had taken place the night before, and that it had been halted by no other than Storm himself.

So. Virgil was Storm. Which, by taking the most logical leap, meant Logan was no other than Logic. Cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt no doubt.

… There was no way Roman could sit back and watch, was it?

And so, Prince stepped into the light, flames dancing on his fingertips and on the blade of his katana -a gift from Janus, who had reacted to Roman's sheepish smile with an eyebrow raise- and a bright red sash crossing his chest.

Logan and the others had been rather welcoming to the new superhero amongst their group, if not a little skeptical about his motives -Roman could not quite tell them he was doing all of this to give them an additional layer of protection, since he knew from experience just how dangerous the superhero gig could be. They thought all he wanted was to protect the innocents like a knight in shining armor, and he just never bothered to correct them. It wasn't like that was a lie, anyway so he didn't really feel guilty about it.

… Okay, maybe he felt a little guilty about keeping his former identity a secret. So what? It wasn't like he could go to his new friends and say "Hey, remember that one dude that scared the shit out of everyone? Yeah, that was me, fun times am I right??". And besides, it wasn't like King was going to do a comeback anytime soon, if ever. Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

+++

It had started as a normal night-time patrol around the outskirts of the city. Roman had been joking around with Virgil, jumping easily from rooftop to rooftop as they exchanged dry remarks and teasing nicknames with Logan and Patton watching on in amusement.

Then, suddenly, an explosion.

They'd all frozen, exchanging quick glances as a cloud of smoke started to rise into the distance. Without a word, the four had bolted, the easy atmosphere that had surrounded them up until that moment gone in an instant as they prepared themselves to deal with whatever was expecting them.

They reached the plaza in a few minutes, immediately setting out to assess the damage. Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be much out of order -there were no civilians around, the few that had been around at that time of the night having been probably startled away by the explosion -which had probably gone off at the center of the square, judging by the debris and fairly-sized hole. Though the cause of it didn't seem to be anywhere to be found.

At least, until an amused chuckle resounded from behind the four.

They turned around, ready for a fight, only to be met with a grinning Nautilus.

"Oh, how nice of you guys to drop in!" the hero chirped, his grin only widening even more -Roman did not like the crazy glint in the other's eyes, his hand moving to hover a little closer to the hilt of his sword as a bad feeling started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

"Hello, Nautilus!" Patton greeted, his smile now a little tense around the edges -Roman couldn't help but feel glad he wasn't alone in his distrust, not missing the way Logan and Virgil also seemed to be a little more on guard.

It wasn't like Nautilus was a villain or anything, at least not for the public opinion. He meant well, Roman knew that, but the way he viewed the world -black and white, good vs evil with no space for anything else in-between those extremes- was something Roman just couldn't trust, knowing all too well how such a way of thinking could very easily skew someone's morals way too close to ruthlessness and self-justified cruelty.

So yeah, Nautilus might have been a hero, but Roman wouldn't trust him with the life of the most innocent of kittens.

"Nautilus, do you know the cause of that explosion?" Logan spoke up, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, that was me, nothing to worry your pretty brain about my dear Logic," Nautilus responded, waving the concern away with way too much nonchalance for Roman's liking. "I was just taking care of some little pests, nothing to worry about."

"By making the fucking square blow up?" Virgil asked, scoffing.

The other simply shrugged, once again dismissing the remark. "Sometimes you gotta do some harsh things to get rid of a problem, don't you agree?"

Oh, Roman did not like that smile one bit.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice neutral as his grip on his sword tightened.

Still smiling, Nautilus snapped his fingers, a water tendril appearing from behind him. And in its grasp, a familiar figure uselessly struggled for freedom, brown eyes glaring daggers at the hero's back. Faintly, Roman could easily picture the snarl currently adorning the Puppeteer's lips.

Lips he could not see, because Janus' mouth was currently being covered by a muzzle.

"Pretty cool right?" Nautilus grinned, stepping onto another tendril to let himself be carried at Janus' level. "A friend of mine made it, perfect to stop our local charmer from using his nifty powers."

Ignoring the way the other heroes were staring at him in various stages of horror, he grabbed Janus' chin, tugging his face forward until they were barely inches apart.

"Not so cocky without that silver tongue of yours, uh?" he purred, before pushing him back. "It's high time you face the consequences of your evil doings, you slimy snake."

But the Puppeteer's eyes were no longer glaring at Nautilus. No, they were trained on Roman's form, on his clenched fists and the way his eyes kept flashing a familiar golden color.

"Well, look who's gone and fucked up!" a voice chirped from above, attracting everyone's attention to the top of one of the surrounding buildings. The Duke gave the heroes a toothy grin and waved, legs swinging into the air with his signature morning star resting idly on his shoulder.

"Ah, the Duke," Nautilus hummed, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, "I was wondering when you'd show up. Are you here to rescue your dear teammate? Please, do try, I'd love to bring down two villains in one day."

For the surprise of almost the entire square, the Duke let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back as his whole body shook with the force of his cackles.

"Oh, please! As if I'll need to do literally anything," he said, amusement lacing every word. "This is your funeral, dude. You really angered the wrong royal."

Nautilus frowned, opening his mouth to reply -probably to ask what in the world the other was talking about- but all that left his lips was a startled yelp, fighting to keep himself steady as the earth started to rumble and shake beneath his feet. Because of the sudden distraction, all the tendrils of water broke off, included the one holding the Puppeteer. Without missing a beat, Remus jumped down and grabbed Janus before he could pummel the ground, holding him bridal style while sporting his best shit-eating grin.

"Told ya!" he sing-sang, sending Nautilus a mocking glare. Not that the hero was looking at him, mind you. He was more focused on his fellow "hero" standing just a few feet to the center of the square, his eyes blazing golden.

"Duke," called Roman, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried all around the plaza, "get him out of that damned muzzle, would you?"

"Aye aye sir!!" Remus chirped, easily ripping the piece of metal away. "Do you think you could leave a few bones intact for me to break? I wanna have some fun too!"

"Sorry, Duke-" the other chuckled, the sound sounding almost haunting to everyone else's ears- "but I don't know if I’ll have enough self-control left to do that."

A circle of golden light appeared at Roman's feet, rising up in the air and enveloping his body as it went. And then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a vision no one had ever thought they'd see again.

Bright, golden eyes. Hair as dark as the night. The uniform of a royal, a burgundy sash crossing his chest from shoulder to hip. In his hand, a familiar sword glinted under the artificial light of the street lamps, the hilt the same golden as its owner's irises.

The Prince was gone, lost in a circle of golden light. And at his place stood a very angry-looking King.

"That- that can't be!" Nautilus exclaimed, taking a step back. "You're gone, you can't be here!"

"Can't I?" The King -Roman, the King was Roman- asked, cocking his head to the side. "Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot be, Nautilus?"

"I'm a hero!!" the other snapped, his words laced with the desperation of a man who is standing face to face with his impending doom. "I'm a hero, you rotten king, and I after tonight I will be remembered as the one who wiped you and your villainous reign out of this city!"

Roman hummed, looking absolutely unimpressed as he calmly inspected his sword.

"You call yourself the hero… and yet, you are the one using downright torture-like methods to try and squash down those who don't fit your narrow view of good. All the Duke and I did was rescue our companion form your grasp. So tell me, Nautilus -are you really sure I'm the one you should call "villain" here?"

The hero growled at those words, eyes flashing in barely contained rage as tendrils after tendrils of water rose up behind him. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for forgiveness at my feet."

"Oh honey," the King drawled, lips stretching into a feral grin, "at the end of this, I won't be the one begging for their life."

And off they went, crashing into each other in a whirlwind of water and metal.

Taken as they were with each other, the two supers barely spared a glance to the huddle of five people looking on from the side of the square.

"What the fuck." Storm whispered, staring shell-shocked at the scene in front of him. "What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-"

"I know, right?" the Duke exclaimed, completely ignoring the hero's obvious growing panic.

"Duke, play nice," the Puppeteer drawled, with the heat of someone who had had to deal with the other's antics for way too long to really care anymore.

"Storm, please take some deep breaths for me," Logic said, stepping into Virgil's line of sight. "Do you remember your breathing techniques, yes?"

Storm nodded, visibly trying to get his breathing under control to do just that. Heart, obviously worried, moved to sit beside him, resting one hand on his shoulder to tap a regular rhythm there.

Virgil looked up at him with a small, grateful smile, raising his own hand to cover Patton's before closing his eyes to focus on his breathing.

Once it was clear Storm's panic wasn't going to advance any further and risk affecting his powers, Janus let his eyes wander towards Logic's standing figure, the hero's gaze fixed on the ongoing fight.

"You don't seem too fazed with the revelation," the Puppeteer pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not every day you find out your teammate is actually the very ex-vigilante that used to terrorize the city."

"If I remember correctly, the people targeted by the King's actions were almost all corrupt politicians and crooked cops," Logic pointed out, turning his head to look at the vigilante. "And besides, I already had my suspicions."

Janus couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle. "What was it that tipped you off?"

"Honestly, I started growing suspicious during the Prince's first day on the field," the hero shrugged, pushing his holographic glasses up his nose. "He looked way too familiar with fights involving supers to be a newbie. Add in the pseudo he chose, plus the somewhat similar outfit… once the doubts started creeping in, it was relatively easy to connect the dots."

"Roman," the Puppeteer piped up, "I know you guys know him outside of the mask, so we can use his name -all the royal pseudonyms can get real old real fast."

Logic gave the vigilante a long look before nodding, letting out a soft sigh. "I suppose that makes sense, since you all were allies prior to the King's disappearance. I suppose you won't be sharing the reason of that, by the way?"

Janus shook his head. "It isn't my story to tell -I'm a keeper of many secrets, Logic, and I'm not about to go divulge them without a valid reason to. If he wants to tell you, he will. In his own time."

"Normally, I would point out that we cannot be sure that Roman will even be able to tell us, since he's currently going against one of the heroes with most raw power," Logan pointed out, "but I have heard enough stories about the King's power to be fairly optimist about his odds in this fight."

Janus chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Case in point-" he said, gesturing back towards the square- "it looks like the winner has just become clear."

Just as he finished speaking, Nautilus came skidding on the pavement towards them, bruises and cuts covering his whole body as he struggled to get up again.

"Told you I wouldn't be the one praying for mercy on my knees, hero," the King drawled, his uniform looking barely crumpled by the fight.

"I will never bow to you, villain," Nautilus growled, fighting to keep himself upright.

Roman arched an eyebrow, an infuriatingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Are you sure about that? because you look just about to fall over."

"You may have defeated me, but soon the entire world will know the truth!" the hero shot back. "Their beloved Prince, hiding such a rotten secret… how do you think they will react? Every hero will not rest until you and your companions are locked shut behind bars. Your time is coming to an end, King, and I'll make sure to save myself a front-row seat for the day you'll finally be kicked down from your throne of evil."

"A very poetic imagery, I'm sure," the Puppeteer drawled from behind them, gathering everyone's attention on himself, "though I'm afraid you won't be able to reveal jack shit, you pompous asshole."

Nautilus frowned in confusion until he felt a slight tugging at his hand. Eyes widening, he snapped his head down, eyes zeroing on the yellow string wrapped loosely around his wrist.

"Sleep now, and forget," Janus ordered, eyes flashing bright yellow, and down Nautilus went, knocked out cold.

Silence fell, only interrupted by the faint sounds of sirens approaching from afar. After a few seconds, Heart went to open his mouth, hand outstretched towards the King's back, only for the vigilante to suddenly bolt without a single word and disappear into the night.

Janus and Remus exchanged a look, obviously debating something between themselves without using any words.

"Go," Logic called, catching their attention. "We won't tell, we promise."

The two vigilantes looked at the trio, watching as both Storm and Heart nodded in agreement. Then they smiled, saluted, and took off.

"Do you think Ro will come back?" Heart asked worriedly, eyes traveling from the direction the three had taken to the quickly-approaching blue and red lights in the distance.

"He better, or I'll go and find him myself," Storm muttered darkly, biting at his thumb.

"Only time will tell, there is no use in worrying about that now," Logic sighed, just as the first police car drove into the square. "For now, we better come up with a believable story. They'll want to know what exactly caused the square to blow up in the first place."

"Why lie?" Heart asked, giving his friend a small smile, "after all, Nautilus was the one who did it, wasn't he?"

Logic smirked lightly, nodding. " I suppose that is true."

"You know, sometimes I forget just how much of a little shit you can be," Storm commented, tone laced with amusement. "Then you go and pull things like this, and I get reminded all over again."

"Kiddo, language!" Heart gave an exaggerated gasped, eyes twinkling in mischief. "I just don't like lying, you know that."

Logic watched as the two snickering heroes approached the police, shaking his head with a small smile. Tonight might have raised quite a few questions, but he had no doubt the answers would come, eventually.

All in due time, he supposed.

(ask to be added to the taglist!)

@virgilmydarkstrangeson @sidesroleplayblog @im-patton @creativity-killed-thekitten @mijako98 @romansleftshoulderpad @really-sleep-deprived-nerd @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur @tigertigertigger @suspicious-sweaters @unring-this-bell @heck-im-lost @m-kai-png @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @logicallycrofters @keithkhoegane @analogical-mess @agatheringofbees @darknightvirgil @minninugget @mydicegotcursed @gattonero17 @demigodbookdragon @itgetzweird08 @melodiread

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@ratherstarryeyed @gr3ml1n-loser @purp-man @meowthefluffy @knightinsoftpastels @sleepy-sphinx

#sanders sides #superhero au #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #heroes of our time #hoot #anon asks #maxisanswering #bad things happen bingo #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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ferretbitexo-fic-den · 4 years

Text

Density Kills 7/?

By the Lord, this took too long. But here's part seven. Dedicated to @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes

Pairings: Romantic Analogical, One-sided Analoceit, Platonic Roceit and Moceit, Queerplatonic Royality

Warning: Hanahaki, self-deprecation, blood, belching, angst, swearing

Synopsis: In which Janus was a better actor than anticipated

Part 6. X. Part 8

...

Roman and Patton went after Janus anyway. The two rose up in Janus' room, only to see him belching into a bucket. Patton's griping Roman’s hand tightened as they watched him suffer helplessly.

After the snake's throat had calmed, Janus’ bloodshot eyes glared at the couple. “Not a word.” He growled.

“Janus…” Roman’s words died as quickly as they left his mouth. Patton let go of his partner’s hand and came to Janus' bedside.

“I didn’t mean to snap at them,” Janus tried to explain, “but I can’t talk to them.” Empty, void of emotion, he hugged his knees and stared blankly.

Roman took the bucket and rid it of its contents while Patton continued rubbing the lying side’s back.

“We don’t have to film this week, if you can’t.” Roman suggested as he sat by Janus’ other side.

Janus let out a miserable tisk. “We’re not putting this on hold just because of my pathetic crush on two taken men.”

“You were always the one preaching about self-care,” Patton pointed out, “why go against that now?”

Janus started shaking, startling the two. His empty expression was replaced with tears as he coughed out petals once more. The petals fell on his bed, too beautiful to be so deadly.

“No amount of self-care would change the fact that they don’t love me back!” Janus cried. “Not that I deserve to be loved anyway.” The last part was quiet, muffled, almost shameful.

“What? Of course you do!” Patton contradicted. “You deserve to be loved as much as the rest of us!”

Roman held Janus gloved hands, feeling the slight coldness of his skin through the fabric. “You are more than worthy of the love you give.”

The liar scoffed and shrugged both their hands off his back. “Let's just get this over with.” He mumbled, standing to sink out. The couple was left with concern plastered on their faces and sank out after him.

…

The meeting was the most excruciating he ever had to sit through. He struggled to keep still in his armchair, script on his hand.

Patton sat beside Roman who explained the video process. The moral side’s pitiful glances were not lost on him, making his stomach churn.

Logan sat on the floor, running his finger through Virgil’s hair who laid his head on his lap.

It hurt Janus. Oh, what he wouldn't do to run his fingers through Virgil’s hair, or to kiss Logan knuckles, or to tell them both how much he loved and would do anything for them.

His lungs cried out for attention, making him let out an involuntary cough, pushing down the eager little flower.

He needed to throw off the pitiful glances he felt thrown at him.

“Wow, Roman. Don’t you just love making yourself miserable for these episodes.”

Roman let out a chuckle. “What can I say? Fanders love to cry.”

Virgil groaned. “This is gonna so emotional again.”

Logan giggled, giving Janus a heartache. “Dear, please don’t make it a bad thing. On the contrary, it’ll leave a bigger impression on the viewers.”

Dear. The nickname brought a new kind of agony to Janus' lungs. A pet name. From Logan. God he’d kill for that.

Janus flinched as he swallowed another petal whose attempt to escape had been in vain.

Unfortunately, it didn’t escape Logan. “Janus? Is something wrong?” He asked.

“Right as rain.” Janus said, avoiding Logan’s eyes, focused on the paper that he didn’t notice Logan staring.

To be fair, Logan didn’t notice either. But he did notice how Janus' breathing became heavier, more forceful. How much paler and thinner he’d become. How his naturally snarky and flirtatious confident figure had became disheveled.

He knew Janus wasn’t okay, but continuous interrogation had proven to be counterproductive.

Janus looked up from the paper and accidentally locked eyes with Logan, turning away almost instantly. “So basically, it’s another heart-wrenching music fest.” The snake clarified.

He folded the paper and got up “I’ll be in my room.” He sank out, sparing a glance for his unrequited loves.

Virgil poked his boyfriend in the cheek. “You okay?” He asked, seeing his eyes follow Janus sinking out.

Logan sighed heartily, continuing running his hands through Virgil’s purple streaks. “Yes. I'm fine, love.”

Over by the couch, Patton’ head was leaned on his partner’s shoulder. Roman let out an exasperated sigh.

“They’re dense fucktwats.” the prince grumbled.

“It would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.” Patton followed up.

...

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag , @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago , @arsonenthusiast , @i-love-my-dark-strange-sons @phantom-moonfire , @lostonehero , @awkward-child-of-satan , @deetheimposter , @ashtonbby2 , @lokiamorstuffs , @janus-the-sassy-snek-boi , @eeveeeclair246 @enragedbees , @franthehorsegir

For Density Kills: @knight-shives , @chronophobica , @croftersjam15 , @sandercats

Tell me if you wanna be added or removed!❤

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full-of-roman-angst-trash · 4 years

Text

Please, Don’t Ever Leave Me

This is a happy birthday fanfic for @layschips12. Sorry that’s it’s late, I hope you like it.

Pairings: Analogical, Background Roceit, Background Queerplatonic Intruality

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Bullying, Self Deprecation, Minor Panic Attack, Cursing, The Rest is Fluff.

This fanfic includes: Nb!Logan, Trans!Roman, Neopronouns!Janus (Ve/ver)

Word Count: 2,535

Virgil and Logan have known one another since they were 2. They met since their parents were friends with one another; they quickly became friends. They practically grew up together.

They were always there for one another. Virgil always helped Logan when they were stressed out, overwhelmed, having trouble with their emotions, forgetting to care for themselve, or struggling to be productive. He was there for Logan when in they’re last year of middle school, Logan was diagnosed with Major Depression.

Logan also tried their best to be there for Virgil. They stood up for him when others tried to pick on him. They helped him when he was having family issue. They helped Virgil when he had to go to crowded places or when he was scared/panicking. They were there for Virgil when he was diagnosed with Social Anxiety in their first year of high school.

Of course, when they couldn’t be there for one another they had their other friends to check on them.

They met Roman in 4th grade. Logan and Virgil where walking down the hall when they saw a group of 5-7 kids gather around a specific spot. At first they didn’t think anything of it, but when they got closer and heard someone crying; they quickly stopped walking. They turned to see that these kids were all making fun of a younger looking girl on the floor.

This small girl was a black haired Asian kid with dark brown eyes. Light freckles were peppered all along her warm ivory skin. She was relatively short and despite her skinny structure, you can tell she did some sort of exercise.

The second they realized that this group of kids were bullying this younger kid, they quickly intervened. However, they didn’t became friends with her until a couple week later, when the three of them were put in a group project together. A few years later they found out that Roman, was actually a transboy.

They met Remus at a sleepover in Roman’s house shortly after. However, for the longest time the two of them weren’t really close to Remus since despite being twins, Roman and Remus didn’t go to the same school. Due to Remus’ poor behavior he was put in a special school for difficult kids. They became a lot closer in college since Virgil and him ended up going to the same school.

Patton joined their little group in 6th grade when he transferred to their school half way through the school year. Patton was a tall, chubby, mexican kid with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. He was a huge social butterfly so he tried making friends with everyone. At first, Virgil didn’t like Patton one bit. But that changed when Patton helped him through an anxiety attack.

Finally, there was Janus who joined the group when ve started dating Roman. The two began to date in their junior year of High school. At first, ve didn’t really get along with the others but ve eventually got close to them.

~~~~~~~

Virgil began to have a crush on Logan in middle school. He loved how they were always so smart, kind, passionate, and understanding. He knew that no matter how much they were struggling, Logan would always be there for him. Sadly though, due to his Anxiety, he was afraid to act on these feelings. He didn’t want to lose his friendship with them, so he ignored them.

Of course, it wasn’t easy though. Apparently his little crush was very obvious since the others constantly teased him about it. They also claimed that Loan liked him back but he was hesitant to believe them.

So despite how much they pushed him to do it, Virgil refused to confess. But that only encouraged the others to try a different strategy.

Instead of trying to convince Virgil to confess, they would convince Logan. Thankfully for the group, after a few weeks of bothering them, they caved.

Roman, the self proclaimed love expert help set up the date. He had chosen a Saturday fall evening for Logan to confess on, since he claimed that it was the perfect weather and scenery. He told Logan the plan they had to follow for the day and send them off.

Logan walked to Virgil’s college dorm and knocked on the door. They were wearing a black suit with a blue shirt underneath and a blue tie.

Remus opens the door and smirks, “Virgin, your lover is here,” he calls out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No one else who visits us knocks!” Virgil walks to the door and blushes when he sees Logan.

Logan blushes as well. Virgil was wearing a a dark purple suit with a black shirt underneath and a black tie with a spider web design on it.

“Are you guys going to leave or are you just going to continue eye fucking one another?” Remus loudly cuts through their moment.

They both turn bright red and Virgil punches Remus in the arm, “Shut it! We’re going!”

Remus laughs as Virgil walks out of the dorm, taking Logan’s hand.

“I’ll be back later.”

“Okay Emo!” Remus waves before closing the door.

The date was going amazing. They started by going to watch a scary movie that had recently came out since Virgil wanted to watch it for a while now. Once the movie was over they took a walk in the park before eating at Virgil’s favorite restaurant. They ate some food and by the time they left it was dark outside.

“Today’s been amazing Lo. Thanks for taking me out.”

They nod, “Of course Virge. Before we go home can we go to one last place?”

“Sure,” Virgil smiles more, “Where do you wanna go?”

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to retain that information from you. I want it to be a surprise. Also it’s want to not wanna.”

Virgil laughs, “Alright, alright. Lead the way then.”

“Close your eyes.” They say with a soft smile

Virgil chuckles, “Alright then,” He closes his eyes

They begin to lead him to the last destination of their date. The place where they will confess.

“We’re here.” They say softly as they come to a stop.

Virgil slowly opens his eyes and he lets out a gasps. They were on top of a hill. On the hill were tons of beautiful flowers. What was the most breathtaking though, was the view of the night sky. You could see thousands of stars and the beautiful full moon.

Logan had to admit that Roman’s decision to take Virgil here was adequate and ingenious.

“Wow.” Virgil mumbles, dazed from the beauty in front of him.

Logan chuckles softly, “Do you like it? It’s beautiful, right?

He nods, “Yeah, I love it. Thanks for bringing me here Lo.”

Logan smiles softly, “Of course,” They take a deep breath, “I, actually brought you here so that I can tell you something.”

A sudden wave of anxiety hits Virgil. Endless worst case scenarios and toxic thoughts fill his head. Before he knows it, he’s hyperventilating and shaking. Tears blur his visions and he can’t even look at Logan.

Logan frowns softly and gently cups his lover’s cheek.

“Virgil, can you hear me?”

A small nods accompanied by heavy breathing and sobs is the answer they get but it was more then enough for them.

“Alright good. It’s okay, everything’s okay. Just focus on me, clear you head and breath. I’ve got you.”

They spoke in a soft calming voice, one that made Virgil’s head clear up a bit almost immediately. Logan holds him close, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and running him through a breathing exercise.

Eventually they manage to calm him down.

“S-sorry.... I didn’t mean to interrupt you like that...” Virgil mumbles quietly and ashamedly.

Logan shakes their head, “It’s okay Vee. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Okay,” Virgil caves quickly, “Well, what were you gonna say?”‘

Logan takes a deep breath before gently letting go of Virgil. They stand in font of him and holds his hands.

“Virgil, we’ve been friends for 17 years now and I cherish our friendship so much. However, I can’t help but be unsatisfied with our current relationship statues.”

A blush dusts Virgil’s cheeks, “What do you mean?”

They take a deep breath before continuing, “I have romantic feelings towards you Virgil. I have for a while and I was wondering if you would accept me as your romantic partner.”

For a second, Virgil can feel his stomach fill with butterflies and his heart pound out of his chest. He stays quiet for a few seconds, trying to make sure that what he just heard was real.

Once his brain fully comprehends the situation he threw himself into Logan’s arms and started crying.

“Yes! YES YES YES YES YES! A million times yes!”

Logan held him close and laughed, blushing and tearing up a bit, making a mental note to thank Roman tomorrow.

~~~~~~~

Logan and Virgil stayed together for the rest of college. They eventually moved in together when they were both 23 and they were happy. Yes, they had their arguments here and there but it never got too serious. They had a nice healthy relationship. They continued talking to their group of friends and life was well.

Virgil is now 27 and Logan is 28. He woke up in the morning to find that his significant other wasn’t there. He was a bit shocked but just assumed that they went off to work earlier like they did sometimes. He got up and started off his day.

He got a knock on his door at 12:00 which surprised him since he didn’t remember inviting anyone over. He gets up and walks to the door, opening it to see Remus and Patton.

“Oh, hey guys. What are you two doing here?” He asks, pleasantly surprised.

“We’re here to hang out with you emo!!” Remus announces loudly.

Patton laughs softly, “Yup!! Sorry for the suddenness but I got a day off work and Rem wanted to come visit you!”

Patton and Remus have been in a gueerplatonic relationship for a while now. They moved in together right next door to Roman and Janus, mostly cause the twins wanted to stay close to one another.

“It’s alright, but can I ask why?”

Remus lets himself in, dragging Patton in with him, “Cause we want to Virgin!”

“I hate that nickname,’ Virgil mumbles as he closes the door.

The day was going amazing. The three of them played some games, baked cookies, made lunch, watch some dramas, and even painted each others nails. It was 7 p.m when Remus received a message. He checked his pohne and then smiled brightly.

“Hey, Mr.Sunshine,” Remus called to Virgil.

“What?” Virgil turns to him.

“Let’s go out somewhere real quick.”

Virgil checks the time, “But it’s pretty late and besides I have to call Logan, he should have been home by now”

“Kiddo, come on! It’ll be quick! Besides, I’m pretty sure Logan is fine, he’s probably just decided to work a bit overtime.”

He thinks for a bit before giving in, “Fine. Who’s car are we taking?”

“Mine!” Remus says, taking out his keys, “Let’s go!”

They walk out of the house and get into Remus’ car.

The whole car ride Remus and Patton avoid any questions Virgil has, which infuriates the clueless kid.

They park in a parking lot near a hill that Virgil immediately recognized.

“Why are we here?” He asks cautious.

Remus stops the car and gets out, “Please just follow us. Everything will be explained soon.”

Patton also gets out and holds out a hand for Virgil. He hesitantly takes it and lets himself be taken out of the car and led to the hill.

When they make it to the top they stop walking.

“Hey, kiddo, we’re gonna go get something real quick, can you stay here?”

Virgil starts to fidget with his sleeve getting more and more anxious by the second.

“S-sure...” He mutters out weakly.

They both smile at him softly and reassuringly before walking off in the direction of the car.

To try and stay calm, Virgil looks at the starts, taking shaky deep breaths and continuing to fidget.

Minutes that feel like hours pass before suddenly, footsteps start approaching Virgil from behind. He immediately tuns around, alarmed. But to his surprise, he it’s Logan. They're wearing a nice suit, one that looks like Janus’ mom made. After all, such an intricate Victorian design can only come from the best designer in town.

As soon as Virgil recognizes Logan he calms down, blushing at how wonderful they look.

“Hey, love. You scared me,” Virgil says with a soft smile.

They return the smile, “Sorry, dearest. I actually have a question for you.”

“Oh? What is it?” Virgil suddenly feels anxious all over again. Afraid that they want to break up with him.

They take a deep breath and take out a small box from their pocket before getting down on one knee.

“You're the sun in my shine, The spark in my plug, The heart to my beat, The day to my night, The twinkle in my eye, The hot to my spicy, The yin to my yang, The soul to my mate.Need I say more? Now all I want to hear from you, Is to say, "I do."

“Virgil, will you marry me?”

Virgil can’t believe his eyes or ears. It this real? It has to be. He’s crying. He can feel the wind through his hair and the ground below his feet. He can see the stars light up the sky and the moon shine down on them. He could hear the quite clamor of the animals around them.

He nods, “YES!”

Now they’re both crying. Logan puts the ring on Virgil before standing up. They share a warm hug and a perfect kiss.

They stand there in each other's arms.

“Please, don’t ever leave me,” Virgil mumbles into Logan’s chest.

“I won’t. I promise,” Logan whispers softly, kissing his lover’s head gently.

Suddenly a loud cheer comes from a tree near them.

“IT WORKED! CONGRATS YOU TWO!” Roman rushed out from behind the tree, smiling brightly.

Logan gently lets go of Virgil and turns to their friend, “I THOUGHT WE AGREED THAT YOU WOULD WAIT BACK IN THE HOUSE!”

The other sighs, “I know! But I couldn’t help myself!” He whines.

Janus suddenly comes out as well and grabs vis’ husbands hand.

“Sorry about him. I tried to hold him back but he somehow managed to escape my grip,” Ver explains, trying to tug Roman back to where they were before.

VIrgil sighs fondly, “It’s alright Jan. Anyway, are the others here too?”

Roman nods excitedly, “Yup! Rem! Pat! You two can come out!”

The two of them do so

“Hey, congrats Kiddos! I’m happy for you guys!” Patton says cheerfully.

The two of them blush and thank him.

“Welp! Let’s go home! We have a party to start!” The twins say at the same time.

And with that, they start making their way to Roman’s and Janus’ house.

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