#symp deceit

[stormypaint]

we keep forgetting that for the end of deceit’s introductory video, he spent like two minutes straight spewing musical puns based on deceit. he’s a fucking nerd. 

he may act classy but he’s a massive dork.

(roceit shippers, i bring you this offering: roman v deceit musical shenanigans. singing competitions, viewings, duets, arguments over which musical is better, etc. go wild my lads)

[sidescraft]

Virgil: I am DISGUSTED

Virgil: I am REVOLTED

Virgil, climbing into washing machine: I dedicate my life to my friend and savior Lord Deceit and this is the thanks I get!?

Deceit: Virgil, you're going to get stuck!

[remusownsmyuwus]

Roloceit no au

💓💐 - Roloceit No AU

    Roman stretched, arching his back in a deep yawn. He rubbed his eyes, settling back in front of his computer and continuing to type furiously, not conscious of the time displayed in the corner of his screen. He had to finish this script before Friday, and it was Thursday and he still had four scenes to write. He blanked on a word, hands hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t want it to sound inorganic or manufactured, as a lot of his dialogue often sounded. Why has Emile so hard to write for? He was a character Roman had made, after all. And he loved cartoons, just like Roman. Why was it so much easier for him to write Kai or Elliot? He pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he pushed his unkempt hair out of his eyes, trying to think. His thoughts were sluggish and disconnected, like if had chugged a super gulp slushy and tried to dance. 

    Deceit hovered outside the door, Logan behind him, listening to the clickety-clack of Roman’s fingers on the keyboard of his computer. Deceit turned to Logan to softly whisper, “He should be asleep by now, he promised he wouldn’t stress about the script.”

    Logan nodded, “It seems he hasn’t been listening to our advice. Although we are, it seems, hypocrites, as we’re also awake at--” Logan checked the watch on his wrist. “--4:34 am.”

    “So what if we look like hypocrites, we’re up because he’s up.” Deceit rested a gloved hand on the doorknob of Roman’s room. 

    Logan laid his hand on the knob on top of Deceit’s, giving a brief nod before they opened the door gently and stepped into Roman’s dimly lit room.

    The room was cluttered, dirty clothes and crumpled pieces of paper were strewn across the floor, and a framed portrait Roman had painted of the three of them was crooked, although all of this could only be seen because of the faint light from the screen of Roman’s laptop, which he was bent over, one hand hovering over the keyboard, the other tapping the eraser of a mechanical pencil against his temple.

    “It’s late,” Logan said, picking his way through the clutter to gently drape his arms across Roman’s shoulders. Deceit followed, kneeling down and laying his head in Roman’s lap. 

    “Is it? I lost track of time…” Roman’s eyes wandered to the clock on his screen. 

    Deceit pulled off his hat, setting it down next to Roman’s computer. “You said you wouldn’t worry about the script.” He pressed his lips together firmly, “Or stay up to finish it.”

    “But I still have three and a half scenes to write! And the words aren’t… going… Like I want them to.” Roman closed his laptop in defeat, looking with big eyes at Logan.

    “The words will not “go,” as you say, if you stay up all night and greatly inhibit your mental functions!” Logan poked Roman in the cheek, frowning at him.

    “But I need to get it done!” Roman covered his eyes with his arm, as if to protect from Logan’s concerned and disappointed gaze. “Fiiiiine,” He whined.

    Roman let Logan and Deceit pull him to his bed, collapsing on top the comforters in a warm and comfortable embrace. He drifted off with his boyfriends held close, smiling.

[delightful-deceit]

made a roceit moodboard, not that good but whatevs

[remusownsmyuwus]

Perfectly Real: Chapter 6

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Chapter 7

Word count: 1032

Beta-ed by the ever wonderful and amazing @aleiimm

Genre: Fluff and angst

Pairings: Loceit, nonromantic Logince

Warnings: Symp/neutral Deceit, anger, self-deprecation, depression, nonromantic kissing, death mention, suicidal thoughts, alcohol mention,

____

    Hamlet woke up, his eyes sliding open slowly. He had taken out his contacts in the night, and his eyes laid on Deceit, who was pressed against his chest. Deceit felt Hamlet stir and clutched him tighter, his still-gloved hands digging into Hamlet's crinkled dress shirt. Hamlet squeezed Deceit back in response, his soft brown eyes trailing over Deceit's calm profile.

Deceit buried his face deeper into Hamlet's chest, humming happily when he had found himself comfortable. Hamlet cracked a small smile, warmth he wasn't used to feeling filtering through his chest. 

Hamlet raised a hand to card through Deceit's hair. Deceit opened his yellow eye, looking up at Hamlet. 

"You feel better, Hamlet?" Deceit asked slowly. He moved a hand up and down Hamlet's back, looking up into his eyes.

"Yeah, I feel… It hurts less," He settled on. Patton's grief and guilt was still there, somewhere inside of Hamlet, but now it was fuzzed out by the warmth of Deceit, the firmness of Deceit's hands on his back.

"Anything to make the hurt go away, right?" Deceit said quietly.

"Anything," Hamlet said quietly.

"Hey, hey, hey," Deceit said, wriggling out of Hamlet's arms and leaning over him. "That's not what I meant."

Hamlet looked up at Deceit, whose hair was falling in his face, a dusting of red sprinkled upon his cheeks. "Yeah, I won't die on you."

"Promise?" It was barely a whisper, barely there, but it hung between them as Deceit leaned over Hamlet, staring into each other's eyes. 

"Promise." Hamlet averted his eyes, his cheeks heating up.

Deceit followed the movement then looked down at himself. He jumped back. "Sorry! I know you're not really comfortable with touch and we're barely even friends I-" 

"It's fine, Deceit, really." Hamlet gave a quiet laugh. "I asked you to stay."

"Okay." Deceit relaxed a bit, and Hamlet kicked off his covers, swinging his legs off the bed.

"So you want coffee? Tea? Wine?" Hamlet summoned a bottle and a glass, smiling.

    “It’s a little early for that, Hamlet.” Deceit gave him a stern look.

Hamlet laughed. "You would say that, huh? Stop worrying, Deceit." 

"I'll always be worried if you're drinking at-" he looked around the room, and then summoned a clock. "Seven thirty-two in the morning." 

"You care about me or something, Dr. Jekyll?" Hamlet set down the bottle and sat on the edge of his bedside table.

"Of course, Polonius," Deceit shot back.

"Low blow." Hamlet summoned a mug of coffee. "Just this once, I'll follow your rules."

Deceit smiled, summoning a mug of his own, blowing softy to cool it.

~•°^•^°•~

“It’s all my fault,” Roman gripped the edge of the sink tighter, his knuckles turning white. He looked up into the mirror, sniffling weakly at his reflection. He turned his head, unable to meet his own red eyes. “I messed up! I always mess up! I always do this!” Roman took a shuddering breath.

“I’m useless. I’m worse than useless. I’m a hinderance,” Roman rubbed his hand beneath his nose.

The anger boiled in him. Most days, it was passion. Most days, it was love and exuberance and pride and everything good about Roman. Other days, it was the anger. Anger seemed too tame for it, it was colder. It wasn’t face-red, screaming anger. It was ice that ground through your blood and the freezing north and the whistle of caves in a storm. It was loathing, and Roman felt his heart stop as he began to laugh, his voice jumping from octave to octave as it broke again and again. 

He turned on his reflection, his face stone. “You’re pathetic,” he whispered. “You’re a failure, a waste of imagination. Everything you touch gets worse and worse and worse and falls apart. "You’re the evil twin. You’re the waste of space.” Roman took a deep breath. He whispered, maybe to himself, rather than his reflection, “you made Logan go.”

“Hamlet, please. Logan’s gone.” There was that voice again, cold and low, and Roman whipped around, staring at Hamlet, who leaned against the frame of the door, white eyes leveling Roman with a look of disinterested scorn. 

“Get out of my room,” Roman said hoarsely, no fight behind his words. The anger burned, in it’s cold way, but Hamlet didn’t deserve his scorn. Hamlet had just… reacted appropriately to Roman’s persistent idiocy.

“If I could, I would.” Hamlet grimaced, pushing off of the door frame with his shoulder so he was standing upright. "Unfortunately, you have need of my abilities."

"Abilities?" Roman asked, eyes crossing slightly as he thought. "What abilities?"

Hamlet put his hand to his temple, taking in and releasing a painfully slow breath. "I'm Apathy, of course I have--" He waved his hand on the air as if to demonstrate.

"Whatever. So how are you gonna… help me, or whatever?" Roman's anger still seethed inside him, but he was glad to see Lo-Hamlet again. At least Hamlet didn't completely hate him.

"Ugh, I hate this part." Hamlet grabbed Roman's sash, pulling him forward. 

Roman stumbled, windmilling his arms to keep his balance, looking up once he had stabilized and found himself very close to Hamlet. "Uh, what?"

Hamlet quirked his eyebrow at Roman, then cupped his face firmly and brought it to his own, pressing their lips together.

Roman's eyes shot open, but he melted into the kiss, confused. He closed his eyes, feeling the emotions slip out of him into Hamlet's cold lips.

Hamlet broke the kiss, sinking out. Roman stood in a daze, his eyes crossed, before he went to lie down. He was tired. Pulling the covers over himself, his large plush bed felt too big, too empty. All the fairy lights in his room dimmed, their bright and rich red fading to a warm gray that turned the lively paintings on his walls sour. 

The portrait he painted of Logan stared at him in disapproval, cold blue eyes chips of ice behind his thick glasses, skin turned ashen by the morose lighting. His room had always been tied to his emotions, and now it was gray, neutral, dull. Emotionless. Roman couldn't find it in himself to care.

____

Taglist: @gay--insomniac @power-in-plain-sight @thiaholimon @djpurple3