Hey homos and breeders! I'm Logan, Lo, Lolo, Logy, Roman! Whichever you prefer~
My main account is -satan_- and I mostly write content to do with the Sanders Sides! A series on Youtube created by Thomas sanders, so go check that out iffff you want
To be fair I think the original stuff isn't even published so 😌 have fun with fan fiction
Swiftly moving on, I'm the mOst handsome author here! (Kidding, but am I?)
My pronouns are he/him and I'm seventeen years old!
I have three partners currently! I discovered I'd prefer to stop at three so, sorry I'm not available ;)
My birthday is February 30th so say happy birthday to me next year or I'll steal your pet
The others did an excerpt so I suppose I'll do my own:
It's called 'Mercy - Roman & Virgil' from my fifth 'Thomas Sanders Sides OneShots' book (yes I've written five yes I have no life step back)
Trigger warning: suicide, vomiting
Au
—
"Do you ever think someone can be in a position where death would be considered a mercy?"
Roman held the shaking, crying boy to his chest tight, so tight in fear he might break into a million pieces if he didn't. He clenched his eyes shut and let him cry, cry it all out without being able to stop. In the end he passed out, exhausted from his episode, but this has happened before, countless times, Roman lost track. He scooped up the scrawny boy, laid him down in bed, sat at his desk and stared out the window, content with the soft snoring coming from across the room.
"Depends on the situation"
Roman watched from afar, sitting on the couch, gazing at the boy who stood in the kitchen before the counter, hands shaking, they never stop, so many medicines and techniques - he's given up. He picked up his mug of juice, half full, anything more and it would tip out. He grabbed his metal straw and drank, but it didn't taste like anything, he hasn't been able to taste anything for years. Roman watched on silently, not daring to say a word, but he knew the boy knew he was watching.
"Would you ever kill in the name of mercy?"
Roman tensed when he heard a gasp coming from across the room, he grabbed for the remote and turned the television off instantly. He is usually careful - maybe today he was slacking. A character on a show yelled - the boy couldn't stand yelling. Across the room, he sent an apologetic smile to him, he shook his head and waved it off, gulping down his usual rounds of medication to help dull his pain, lessen his anxiety, and hopefully make him somewhat happy.
"...I couldn't bring myself to murder someone"
He was crying again. Roman could hear it through the walls. He sat up in bed, bleary gazing around the darkness as he stumbled up and out his room, down the hallway and into is. He laid down on his bed, brought him to his chest and closed his eyes, falling in and out of sleep countless times until the sun light was pouring over the horizon. He looked down at the boy in his arms - fast asleep, tear tracks staining his hollow cheeks. Roman knew how much helping affected him - the guilt the boy would feel afterwards, Roman knew, was unbearable. Sometimes it was better if Roman didn't help.
