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welcometothejianghu · 4 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

#the blood of youth #少年歌行 #bloody youths #i made this #rec post #the party is a polycule #LeiDHD

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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months

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My relationship with SJM characters

TOG:

Sjm: Hey look there’s a hot teen assassin and look! Sexy dark-haired prince? Isn’t he hot? Me: *falls for the captain of the guard* Sjm: wait what? lemme fix that. *writes crown of midnight* Me: Nope, still love Chaol and WHAT?!!! YOU RUINED MY SHIP????! Sjm: Not to worry! Big fat hot Fae males will make you forget all about Chaol! Me: Ew who is this stupid Rowan. Bring back Chaol. Sjm: … *writes Queen of Shadows* Come on you HAVE to hate Chaol now, choose a big Fae male! Rowan, Fenrys, or Aedion. Not Lorcan though, he’s a big ass amirite? Me: NO! CHAOL WAS COMPLETELY VALID. Sjm: *takes Chaol’s mobility* Me: NOOOOOOO *cries* Sjm: Ha, he won’t even be in the next book. So you HAVE to choose somebody else to like. So who will it be? Rowan, Fenrys, or Aedion? Me: Fine, I’ll pick someone else *chooses Lorcan* Sjm: NO. YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT. *writes ending of EOS* Me: NOOOOOOO ELIDE HE DID IT FOR YOU *sobs* Sjm: Aelin is in a coffin and you’re worried about Lorcan? Anyway here’s a Chaol book for you. Me: YESSSS CHAOL IS FINALLY HAPPY Sjm: Nice nice ok. Now here’s some pain. Me: FLY FARASHA FLY FLY FLY *sobs* Sjm: FINE! I’ll convince you next time! ACOTAR: Sjm: Look hot Katniss wannabe! Hey look, hot male High Lord! He’s sooo hot amirite? Me: *falls for courtier and emissary* Sjm: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FALL FOR THE PRINCE NOT THE LOYAL FRIEND. Me: What can i say, I have a type. I’ll still ship Feylin tho, it’s pretty good. Sjm: Oh you’re gonna forget all about Tamlin and Lucien. Look! Hot bat boys! Me: BITCH! YOU RUINED MY SHIP AGAIN?!!! AND WHERE IS LUCIEN?!!! Sjm: *retcons Tamlin* you must hate him now?! Me: DUDE EVEN WITH RETCONS HE CAN’T BE WORSE THAN THESE SLEAZEBALLS. WHERE IS LUCIEN???!!! Sjm: You’re gonna hate him now! *writes Lucien scene at night court in ACOMAF* Me: YES. SAVE HER LUCIEN. YOU GO HONEY!! Sjm: ???? *writes end of ACOMAF* Me: YES POSSESSIVE FERAL LUCIEN STEP ON ME. Sjm: …FINE. if you can’t beat em, join em. *writes ACOWAR* Me: *sighs* Feyre and Lucien would’ve been so good together. Sjm: yeah but rhysand is better amirite Me: NOOOO IANTHE YOU BITCH Sjm: *writes Ianthe’s arm breaking scene* Me: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS Sjm: so you like Feyre again right? Me: What? No! Lucien was the better friend! Sjm: … *brings Lucien to night court* Me: NOOOOOO LULU IS DEVASTATED HIS MATE IS HOLLOW Sjm: But look, elriel! Three brothers three sisters amirite? Me: FLOWERS NEED SUNSHINE. ELUCIEN FOREVER. Sjm: Yes yes i was just joking. Anyway, sending off Lucien to find Vassa. Me: We’ll get his POV tho right? Sjm: … Me: right????? Sjm: *writes ACOSF* THERE. He’s barely in this book. So you HAVE to pick somebody else to love. So, Cassian is hot too if you don’t like Rhysand. Me: FINE. I’ll CHOOSE SOMEONE ELSE. *picks Eris* Sjm: …I have learned my lesson. CC: Sjm: Look! Hot sorority girl who’s also an illegitimate princess! And her loyal knight! Hunt is sooooo hot amirite? Me: I’m too smart for you. He’s the first love interest so he’s NOT endgame. Don’t get attached. Sjm: wait he’s endgame this time I swear! Me: NOPEEEE NOT BUYING IT. Sjm: I’m fr this time. Isn’t he so hot? Me: *falls for the tattooed warrior prince* Sjm: … Sjm: I give up

#throne of glass #acotar #crescent city #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall #chaolena #lorcan salvaterre #tamlin #lucien vanserra #feylin #hunt athalar #quinlar #ruhn danaan #eris vanserra

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capsensislagamoprh · 3 months

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Because I am god damned shipping trash and you can't stop me, I started looking up things. When I saw this:

I had a hot moment of: BWAHAHAHAHAH! Then I was like: I wonder what the other names mean. The rabbit hole.

I found a twimbler by jikooksubunit that basically summed up to : Katsuki Yuuri means ‘student of a victor who benefits from courage’ and I think that is beautiful. And I was like: Fuck yeah.

Then I went further down, because fuck you, you can't stop me.

Yuri Plisetsky means (first name) farmer [unless he's Jewish, in which case it means Light of God] (last name) Influencer/Freedom Lover/Charisma. Which, I mean, humble origins, willing to suffer for what he wants, and damned if he's not an influencer with his own style and everyone wants a piece of him (for good or ill). Also a fucking demonic angel. So... yes.

And as you know, shipping trash don't do half. So I looked up Otabek Altin. We all know Altin means gold. What dose his first name mean, google? Fucking help me! So it did. It's actually an Uzbek name. It can be translated as "The Father of all Dukes" or “The Greatest Duke”. In middleage it was also a title for all the heirs coming from a certain lineage of Taimur. MY MIND FUCKING BLOWN.

Fucking ICE KING Winner-Winnerson

his Queen/King consort SIMPAI TAUGHT ME HOW TO KICK YOUR ASS

there feral ice child some times called princess to the determent of everyone with the sheer chutzpah to try it HO, I'M GONNA AND MAKE YOU PAY THE BILL RESPECT MY ETHEREAL, DAINTY, TOUGH AS NAILS ASS, YOU BASIC BITCH

and his BFF/prince charming : LITERALLY A FUCKING ROYAL BLOOD LINE MADE OF GAWD DAMNED GOLD, A.K.A. original 'Daddy of them All' (it's in the fucking name!), called a hero of his home country (rescue Yurio, on your modern day steed, daddy?). [Calmly exert your 'dad energy' in that 'you have awoken the beast' way that the wild cat some times needs?] Ether way, mah dudes. Ether way.

No wonder his ass can afford to ship that bike where ever he wants. Yurio is gonna get so damned spoiled. I love this fucking fandom.

#YOI #Yuri On Ice #!!!#shit i looked up to avoid writing my WiP #i just needed a break #this gave me life #Victor Nikiforov #Katsuki Yuuri #Yuri Plisetsky #Otabek Altin #Victuri #otayuri #i am such shipping trash #i amuse myself

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viisator · 9 months

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After the little mermaid turned into sea foam

Pairings: Nishimura Riki X F!Reader

Genre: Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Fairytale.

Warning: none.

Description: After the little mermaid turned into sea foam, when the Prince she loved woke up in the arms of his new wife- what did he ever think? What happened to him? Did he ever think of her?

Reminder: Pov shifts between First person(Ni-ki) and Third person. I also encourage you to read the fairytale The Little Mermaid first if you have not read it yet so you can enjoy this fic more.

Not Proofread

Word count: 696 words.

(This fanfic is inspired by the classical fairytale "The Little Mermaid" by Hans Christian Andersen)

++ This fanfic has been sitting in my drafts since my favourite Disney classic, The Little Mermaid by Disney was released! And right after finishing the movie, I immediately read Christian Andersen's and while reading, I couldn't help but imagine Ni-ki as the Prince....so...yeah! Have fun reading!!++

Read the original story by Hans Christian Andersen

• • • • •

The time I woke up with my wife in my embrace and felt her hot breath. The last evening at the wedding rewound in my head.

Everything was perfect, the cathedral was gleaming with all the surrounding lights; and Reia, the girl in my arms shined the most. But I could see somewhere, somehow in the side of my eyes, I saw her there, eyes bloodshot and lips trembling.

My heart ache as I ignored her hopeful longing stares. Her hand quietly trembled at her sides, stopping the urge to reach and grab hold of me...my dumb foundling, whom I thought was the maiden who saved me laying dead at the beach. I wanted to hold you and tell you one last time. But you are not the one.

When I embraced her at the deck, on our way to the marriage, I told her she'd always be the one, that I'd rather choose her over the Princes in my arms. I know how it felt; to cry but unable to shed tears. Her tight embrace resembles the touch of the sea that's still fresh in my memories, while her lips are the sweetness of roses.

Up until now I still have the thought that maybe, just maybe she was; the one who saved me and caught me in the depths of the sea, the one who swum with me up to the shore, the one who placed her warm lips on my forehead, and the one who sang to me with her most handsome voice- just maybe.

But I know it wasn't her, it wasn't my dumb foundling. It was she, the Princess in my arms.

The girl in my arms, the princes of Blue Islands, the girl who was taught in the church, the girl with skin so delicately fair, and the deepest ocean blue eyes, the one who sang so beautifully- but her palms, the way her soft palms held me, it wasn't the girl who saved me in the depths of the sea.

I stood up from my wife's embrace, Reia, and sat down, looking around, I noticed a metal reflecting the morning light caught my eyes, it was a dagger laying on the cold floor, with its handle curved in an ocean shape.

I went out of the room and goes up to the deck, where the cold morning air hit my face. It smells like the sea, it smells like fresh seaweed just like my dumb foundling.

But she's nowhere to be found. Where is she? The girl who danced with me the best, the one who can express her feelings through her eyes, the one who was at my side, the one I know who loved me truly-

The Prince, Niki, called out crews that are inside the ship to search and look for the little mermaid, he ordered them to dive into the depths of the sea, and he asked them where they last saw her. His mind was all over the place wondering, searching and longing for the little mermaid's expressive and lovable gaze, her warm gentle touch, her graceful dance, her soft hair... her warm lips.

My dumb foundling...where are you? Just for a minute, that is all I ask, I want to call you and show yourself to me. Let me see and watch your gaze upon me. The elegance of your dance drew me to adore you more than before. Just for a minute, please, I want to see you and hold you before it's too late.

I wanted to, but I could not, after all this time, I know I did not love you.

But as dawn neared, his confused wife stared and waited for him silently at his side as he clench the silver dagger in his hand staring deeply at the ocean's horizon. He felt his heart clench, he lost her, the girl who loved him the most.

Niki's tears run through his warm cheeks. He should have looked at her when he felt her gaze last evening, he should have listened even though she could not speak, he should have asked her name even though she couldn't say it, and he should have stayed; beside her, with her never shedding eyes.

And now, he stares at the dark waves wondering if she's there, wondering if she's alright, hoping that she's fine, because maybe he does, and Niki does from the start know that it was her who saved him from the strong waves on his very birthday. The one who lay him under the hot sands of the beach. The one who sang him awake.

His dumb foundling. He loved her quite much.

Series Masterlist

Enhypen Masterlist

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ineffable-baker-street · 7 months

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after some recovery time, so as not to be so heartbroken, these are my thoughts on the final episode that i wrote as i was watching it, but that i was too sad to post yesterday:

(apologies in advance for how much i had to say)

- muriel is literally adorable

- LMAO CROWLEY TIPTOEING WEIRDLY BEHIND MURIEL I LOVE HIM

- maggie rn: 🖕🖕

- magGIE NO what is WRONG WITH YOU DONT INVITE THEM IN

- FUCKING MORON MAGGIE

- lmao that one demon who just turned around and was like, yeah alright, i'll leave

- look at crowley's pleased little grin he's so cute

- hello??? so he was a hiGH HIGH angel, like he was important af??? i really hope that's explored more in season 3

- god aziraphale is so soft and sweet, he just wants to stay in his bookshop drinking hot chocolate all day

- yes he is Crowley's Emotional Support Angel, thank you very much

- Crowley, Prince of Heaven. it has a nice ring to it ngl

- omfg crowley's little shoulder punch to muriel, he's like a big brother 😭

- sTOP HE HAS A HALO???

- hajsnshdhdh stop i LOVE crowley, his laugh is literally my favourite thing he's so proud of Az

- "it's a cardboard box, it's not going to bite you" ICONIC

- ooh. beelzebub and gabriel have a bit of thing going on don't they? "you're perfect 🥺" "gently 🥰". are they going to be... A Thing?? cause i ship it

- OH MY GOD ITS THE ROLLERCOASTER SONG. IN THE BACKGROUND. OMG IT ALL MAKES SENSE

- IM SOBBING GABRIEL/BEELZEBUB WAS NOT SOMETHING I KNEW I NEEDED BUT THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL

- also aziraphale putting his hand on crowley's arm please my heart can't take this

- "i've had quite enough of this. you will speak, one at a time" YES AZIRAPHALE I LOVE YOU. AND CROWLEY'S PROUD LITTLE SMIRK 😭

- "you know Alpha Centauri's nice, always wanted to go there" *exchanges soft glance with aziraphale* SCREAMING

- him and aziraphale needing 'us time' 😭😭

- oh my god he's clEANING. WHILE PINING AFTER AZIRAPHALE. MY HEART CANNOT COPE

- nina, to maggie: "you're not helping angel" ANGEL. LIKE THE SAME AS- IM- I CANT

- hA yes you TELL him nina and maggie, he is in love with aziraphale and they both need to come to terms with that

- holy fuck. he's about to make a love confession. glasses are off, emotions are bared. this is going to be painful though i can feel it

- oh no. no no no please no

- no no no crowley is begging this is all going wrong

- jesus fucking christ crowley's about to cry my heart can't handle this

- THE PAUSES SO HE DOESNT START CRYING

- just the two of them. 'us'. please please please.

- FUCK ME THE SUNNIES ARE BACK ON THIS IS BAD

- "i- i NEED you"

- no please there's so much more to say. don't leave aziraphale please dont.

- FUCK DONT MENTION THE NIGHTINGALES

- GOD FUCKING BITCH THEY KISSED, FINALLY THEY KISSED AND IT WAS CROWLEY'S LAST EFFORT TO CONVINCE AZIRAPHALE TO STAY

- "i forgive you." "dont bother." im sobbing i cannot cope with this

- PLEASE AZIRAPHALE STAY PLEASE

- god crowley watching him is so heartbreaking, because he looks nonchalant but he was HOPING AGAINST HOPE THAT AZIRAPHALE WOULD RUN TO HIM

- LMAO THE SECOND COMING THATS SO FUNNY THOUGH

- no. dont step into the lift.

- stop the song is so sad but also really funny

well, my heart is in pieces. so that's nice.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens s2 #good omens tv #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable divorce #neil gaiman

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cielcreations · 3 months

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Hazbin Hermits - Prologue

AN: Hermitcraft/Empires/3rd Life Series X Hazbin Hotel AU.

Meaning lots of cursing, fighting, blood, violence, flirting, shipping, sexual innuendos/implied sexual content, and pretty much everyone is a bad person to some degree.

If you don't like your favorite characters made to be not so great people, then do not read.

"Good afternoon! I'm Katherine Killjoy!"

"And I'm Joey JaxHammer! Chaos outside pentagram city today, as a turf war is raging on the west side between notable kingpins Lord Fwhip and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse Mythical Sausage!"

"That's right Joey! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!"

"Those two seem to be really going at it, huh?"

"Looks like they're fighting tooth and nail for that hotspot!"

"And I'd like to nail their hotspots, am I right, fellas~?"

"Haha, you are a limp dick jackass, Joey! Or should I say-" Katherine poured her hot coffee on his lap, the man hissing and moving before she could actually spill it on his dick, "-no dick?"

"Bitch." The man hissed.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the younger son of Hell's own head honcho, who's here to discuss his brand-new passion project!"

"All that, after the break!" Joey exclaimed, taking his mug and pouring his coffee on Katherine's head.

"YOU LITTLE SH-"

The two looked away from the TV. The blue haired demon tugged the tie a bit tighter, just to make the prince look more presentable.

"Okay." He finished, stepping back, "Are you ready? You remember what to say?"

The blonde took a deep breath, his purple eyes widening in excitement as he exclaimed, "Yes! Let's do this!"

"Just, look at me, and I'll mouth it to you, Zed." The man grabbed the prince's shoulders.

Zed had light blonde hair with brown ram horns, pale skin, wearing a black suit with a red tie, no shoes so his hooves could breath.

"Ugh, come ooooon, Tango, I know what to say!" Zed reassured, smiling, "But, I do think we should make it a bit more interesting! I-I mean, I don't want to go up there and sound robotic, you know?"

Tango, normally, had yellow hair, that could change into different colors depending on how hot he got. Since he could control fire and such, his hair would change colors to match the fire type and, sometimes, it could even turn on fire. His skin was pale with a bit of a blue tint, his nails sharpened into claws. He wore a black crop top and black shorts, long black heeled boots. He also had black belts wrapped around his waist with golden buckles, black cloth to create an overskirt. (Art of Tango by @/lunarcrown)

"I get that, babe, but this is serious." Tango reminded him, "You can't go up there and squeal and giggle the whole time. It's adorable, yes, but not all sinners are going to trust and believe in your project unless you look serious and you know what you're doing."

"I told you through a fit of excited squeals."

"Yeah, and I listened because I know and believe in you." The demon motioned to the others, "These sinners don't. They don't know you, they barely know your older brother, and they certainly won't believe in you at first. It's why you gotta go up there, show them who's in charge, and act like this plan is full-proof!"

"But we don't know if it is..." Zed reminded.

"Your right, and neither do they." Tango booped his nose, "Which is our advantage. No one knows if this works, but if we act like we're the experts, people believe."

"Prince Zedaph? Five minutes before we're live." A demon called.

Tango smiled at the blonde, kissing his forehead, "You got this! I'll be right behind the camera, so if you need me?"

Zed nodded, smiling, "Don't worry, I got this!"

He turned around, walking to the desk and smiling, offering his hand, "Hi, I'm Zed-"

"Katherine Killjoy." The female anchor hissed, "You can put that away. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie." She then sneered, "Look, my time is money, so I'll keep this short. You're not here because we wanted you here. You're here because Jeffery couldn't make it to his cannibal cooking segment! You may be some royal bigshot, but that doesn't mean shit to me! I'm too rich and influential to giving a flying fuck about some tux wearing demon 'prince'-" (she put "prince" in quotations, as if Zed wasn't one) "-wants to advertise."

Zed narrowed his eyes, "Listen-"

Katherine leaned forward, glaring, "So don't get cute with me, or I'll fucking break you!"

"And we're live!"

Katherine zoomed to her seat, tilting her head so much, it sounded like she broke it, "Welcome back!" Once Zed was sat down, she spoke again, "So, Zedaph!"

The blonde's eyes twitched as he smiled awkwardly, "It's Zed-"

"Whatever! Tell us about this new passion project you've been insistently pestering our news station about!"

"Welllllll..." Zed looked around at the demons, Tango standing by the camera man with a smile and thumbs up. He smiled and took a deep breath as he spoke, "As most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up, I tried to see the good in everything around me. Hell is my home and you are my people. We just went through another extermination and we lost so many souls! It breaks my heart seeing my people being slaughtered every year!" He slammed his fist on the table, sighing, "No one is even given a chance and I can no longer stand idly by when the place I call home, the place I love, is constantly being destroyed!"

He stood up, smiling, "So, I've been thinking, isn't there a more humane way to hinder Hell's overpopulation? Perhaps we can find a new alternative way to save souls through redemption? I think yes, and that's what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!"

Everyone was silent, staring at the man.

Everyone outside stared at the TV.

One in particular tilted his head in curiosity.

Everyone in the news station... started laughing.

Zed shrunk in on himself as Tango moved to stand beside him, his blue hair turning into flames as he glared at everyone.

"What in the nine circles makes you think a single person in hell would give two shits about becoming a 'better person?!'" Katherine cackled, "You have no proof that this actually works and you want people to be good just because?!"

"You have no proof it doesn't work!" Tango hissed, flames surrounding his body, "Besides, we already have a patron who's showing incredible improvement!"

"Ooooooh, and who might that be~?" Katherine sneered.

Tango leaned forward, intentionally burning her wooden table with a smirk, "Oh, just someone named, SmallishBeans."

"The pornstar?" Joey asked.

"You fucking would, Joey." Katherine glared before snickering, "In any case, that's hardly an accomplishment! I'm sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough lube and sugar!"

Tango continued to burn her table, the woman looking ready to scratch his eyes out as he drew little doodles, "I beg to differ."

Zed also perked up, smirking, "He's been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two weeks now!"

"Breaking news!"

Katherine perked up before she smirked, pushing the men away, "We just received word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let's go to the live feed!"

They turned to the TV and Tango pinched his temples as he tried to control himself, Zed muttering out, "Oh shit."

"Oh shit, indeed!" Katherine exclaimed, "It appears the one to join is none other than porn actor Joel, aka, SmallishBeans!" She looked at the two, "What a juicy coincidence! I bet you feel real stupid right now! How does it feel to be a total and utter failure?!"

She began laughing, everyone did, once more.

Tango tried to control himself as Zed clenched his fists.

The prince looked at Tango with glowing red eyes, "Fucking, show them who's boss."

Tango smirked, his teeth sharpening to points, "Gladly."

He jumped across the table, lighting everything on fire as he began to beat Katherine and Joey.

***

The prince and his boyfriend sat in a limo, across from the other sinner. The sinner had brown hair with a green streak in the middle of his hair, matching his green eyes and green antenna. He wore a long white and light green suit blazer, the top unbuttoned and showing off his muscular chest. He had black shorts and long, knee length black heeled boots. To top it off, he had green transparent fairy wings on his back.

They watched as he rolled the window up and down, clearly in his own little world. Eventually, he seemed to notice the two were staring at him.

The brunette stopped, leaned back, and shrugged, "What?"

"'What?' 'WHAT?!'" Tango screamed, his hair turning to blue, almost purple flames, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, JOEL?!"

"Ugh, I had too, I owed Sausage a solid!" Joel huffed, "Isn't that one of those 'redeeming qualities'? Helping friends and all that?!"

Zed leaned into the window with a groan as Tango reprimanded him, "Not in turf wars that result in genocide?!"

"Meh, you win some, you loose a few hundred!"

"Joel, that was really not cool." Zed groaned, "You just... You made us look like jokes!"

"Nah, chill out, jokes are funny! I made you all look sad and pathetic!"

"Oh, cause that's any better?!" Tango growled.

"Look, I had to!" Joel argued, "My reputation was on the line! You know what people would say if they found out I was trying to go clean?! Not to mention, people would know where I am and try to break into the hotel to get some of me! Do you want a whole mob down there?"

"Listen, if you want to stay here, you need to take this shit seriously!" Tango demanded, walking towards the brunette, "We're not going to give you a free room, free food, free whatever else if all you do is fuck around! So, you either sit down, buckle the fuck up, and try to redeem yourself and help the hotel's reputation, that you burned to cinder!" He glared, flames coming out of his mouth, "Got it?"

Joel groaned, "Okay, fine, whatever."

"C-Calm down, Tango." Zed offered his hand, Tango moving to sit beside him again, "I-It's not over yet, we can still try! It'll be okay!"

The limo stopped at the hotel and the three went inside. Tango flopped on the couch with a groan, Joel grabbing a popsicle and sitting in a chair. Zed groaned and went to go upstairs, only to stop.

Someone knocked on the door.

He walked towards it and opened the door.

In front of him stood a tall dirty blonde man with his eyes closed, wearing a blue striped coat with dark blue sleeves, the coat falling to his knees. Underneath the coat, he wore a white dress shirt with a black upside down cross on the chest, as if to resemble a tie, long black dress pants with bright blue cuffs. Over his feet, he wore black heeled boots that rested under his pants. Behind his back, he held a long thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it.

The whole time, he smiled.

Zed shrunk a little as the man opened his eyes. He had black sclera with blue eyes, staring down at the prince.

"HELLO!" He spoke, his voice altered to sound like that of a broadcast.

Zed shut the door on instinct, "Uh, Tango?"

"Whaaaaat?" The flame demon groaned.

"The Radio Demon is at the door!"

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #empires smp #empireshipping #third life series #third life smp #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hermitcraft au #empires smp au #empires au #third life smp au #zedaph #tangotek #solidaritygaming #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 months

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Hot Chocolate, Ice Skates, and Prince Charming

Heya! I’ve just been quietly reading and rereading all your Roman angst and I hope you’re not tired of writing it because I have an idea 😅 How about some christmas Roman angst? I can’t think of anything specific but there’s that XD Keep up the writing and don’t feel pressured to post the fic on Christmas or to even take the request ❤️- lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

Hello hello! :) Absolutely adore your work, and I hope you're having a wonderful holiday! I have come with a request for whenever you're up to it. If you would, it would be amazing to see your take on a Christmas-y themed fic with a focus on disabled Virgil. I had a hankering for Hallmark styled Christmas movies lately and I was just thinking about how fun it would be in your style. Hope that's ok! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: some ableist language

Pairings: prinxiety (i am ashamed at how long it took me to fucking remember what their ship name is jfc)

Word Count: 10,080

At some point, Virgil will work out the exact science of how much to say 'yes' to friends who desperately want to do holiday-spirit-festive-stuff because they're his friends and he loves being there to watch them love things, but he also does not enjoy dying of either pain or sensory overload. This year doesn't look to be one of those years where he does better than others, though, if being surrounded by screaming children and off-key grainy speakers belting Mariah Carey for the past Too Fucking Long is any indication. He ducks his head to avoid yet another flying something-or-other as he huddles in on himself, making sure his cane doesn't get knocked over for the fourth time in as many minutes. "Excuse me?" He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and— Oh. Hello. *** Virgil, fed up with the holiday spirit, meets Roman, a man who seems far too good to be true for such an auspicious time of year. From apology hot chocolate to late-night Christmas lights, maybe this year the magic will linger just a little bit longer.

May your days be merry and bright indeed.

He sighs, squinting fruitlessly through the crowd to maybe catch sight of one of his friends' coats or something, before realizing that there's absolutely no way he's going to be able to do that when he can't even see the skating rink over the crowd gathered around the outside. And sure, he could stand, but is he going to? No. So he may as well just continue sitting here until one of them remembers that yeah, he's here too, and wades through the horde to his little bench oasis.

"Excuse me?"

He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and—

Oh.

Hello.

"Sorry," the actual fucking model in front of him says, smiling sheepishly, "is the other half of this bench taken?"

"No," Virgil says way too quickly, but can you fucking blame him? The prettiest human that's ever existed just asked if he could sit down next to him. "Bench, uh—bench is very much not taken, you can—you can sit."

"Thanks."

Well, this might have backfired, because now very-pretty-attractive person is sitting right next to Virgil. And he definitely knows how to deal with this. Yeah, this is fine. This is totally fine. He just has to not keep sneaking glances at his perfectly coiffed hair…or his jawline…or the freckle right on the end of his nose…

"Is there something on my face?"

Shit. Fuck. "No, no, you're fine—" really fucking fine, dude— "sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to stare."

He chuckles. Not fair. Not fair at all. "It's okay, honey, no harm done."

Abort fucking mission, abort fucking mission, Very Pretty Person just called me a pet name, shit fuck holy shit what the fuck am I supposed to do?

He's spared the humiliation of verbal floundering when he chuckles again and holds out his hand. "Roman."

"Virgil." Please God, I hope my hand isn't too sweaty. "Nice, uh, nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Roman nods his chin toward the skating rink. "Taking a break?"

"Oh, I, uh, I'm not really big into ice skating."

"You've dragged yourself all the way to the madhouse and you're not going inside?"

"My friends," he says lamely, waving toward the entrance, "they really wanted to come, so I tagged along."

Roman hums, tilting his head. "Not very nice of them to leave you behind, is it?"

Shut up, he hisses at his heart which starts to pulse threateningly towards his throat, it's fine. This is fine. "It's fine. I don't really mind."

"Yes, being surrounded by extremely loud children and sitting right underneath a speaker," Roman says skeptically, "I'm sure."

"Well, I—uh—"

Roman sighs. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. It's none of my business, I know."

It totally could be your business though. Like, I would have exactly zero problems if you decided it was your business.

"I'll go with you if you want."

Virgil shakes himself out of his thoughts in time to see Roman smiling softly at him and he needs to figure out what the fuck he just said real fast before he gets lost in it. "Sorry, what?"

"If you want to go skate," Roman repeats, "I know it's hard if you're by yourself, especially in a crowd this big, so I'd be happy to come with if you wanted."

His heart sinks and the cane at his side grows a little colder. He forces himself to smile and shakes his head. "Sorry, I, uh, really am not into skating."

"Come on," Roman coaxes, holding his hand out, "I promise I'll be nice."

This is torture. This is literal actual torture and Virgil is about to sink into this fucking bench because the most attractive person he's ever fucking laid eyes on is asking him to skate and he can't and he's going to have to say no and then Roman might leave and they won't get a chance to talk anymore or he'll find out why Virgil doesn't want to skate and then it might turn out that he's not actually as sweet and charming as he's acting right now and—

Virgil's eyes slide to his cane and back up to Roman's. Roman follows his gaze, a cute little wrinkle between his brows, before his eyes widen in realization and his mouth drops open.

"O-oh," he stammers, "sorry, I thought—I didn't—"

"It's fine," Virgil mutters, picking up his cane and hunching over it.

"There's—well, I suppose there's no coming back from that." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman's cheeks turn a little pinker—so cute—and scratch the back of his head. "Can I buy you a hot chocolate to make up for it?"

Virgil's head snaps around. He stares at Roman. "What?"

"As an apology. I'll even make sure they put extra whipped cream on it."

He vaguely hears himself say something about sprinkles and then Roman's grinning again and sliding from the bench and vanishing into the crowd. Part of Virgil wants to immediately get up and run after him, but his hands are still wrapped around his cane and all he can do is hope to God that Roman wasn't some hallucination or fantasy and there really is a cute guy going to but him apology hot chocolate.

Five minutes pass.

Ten.

Fifteen.

No sign of Roman.

Virgil checks his phone and sees nothing—no text messages from his friends, no alarm, nothing except the battery he really should have charged before leaving the house and he now has to use extremely sparingly. The sinking feeling in his stomach is back; maybe Roman just wanted a quick and easy exit away from the pathetic whelp with the cane, or maybe he realized that there was something better he could be doing. He wouldn't blame him, not really. He might call him an ableist asshole the next time—if they ever saw each other again, but—

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," he hears breathlessly, "the line was miles long and then they couldn't find the sprinkles."

He turns, hardly daring to believe it, when he sees a massive cup of still-steaming hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream and red and green sprinkles held out toward him. He pries one of his hands from his cane and takes it, looking between it and Roman with disbelief. Roman smiles at him again and nods to the cup.

"Is that enough whip-cream?"

"Yeah," Virgil says faintly, "that's—I don't think I've ever seen this much before."

"Well, you deserve it," Roman says like an asshole because now Virgil has to down like half of it in one go to prevent him from seeing how fucking red he gets at that one little comment and he nearly burns his tongue off for it. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, no one's gonna take it away from you, don't burn your mouth!"

"Too late."

Roman just chuckles again, like he's fond, like that's something they do, and he leans back against the bench. "Suit yourself, honey."

And now he has to do it again. Honestly.

You could not pay Virgil to remember what all they talk about. He doesn't know. He's too busy memorizing the crooked half-smile Roman has when he's vaguely amused by something, or the cute wrinkle that forms when he's thinking or concerned, or the way he keeps reaching out to almost touch Virgil's shoulder before changing his mind last-minute and leaning on the bench instead. He wants to reach back for him so bad but he's trying to hold the hot chocolate and his cane at the same time. His cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing and apparently Roman is really good at saying little things to make that worse. Does he remember what they are? No, because he's not paying attention to shit like that.

They're laughing at something—again, who knows what—when Roman checks his phone and sighs.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. But it was really nice to meet you and sit with you."

"You, uh, you too."

Roman grins and stands. "Happy Holidays, Virgil," he says, and disappears into the crowd.

"You too," he says, way too late, just as he realizes that he didn't even ask for Roman's number.

He looks down at the dregs of the hot chocolate and finds himself smiling slightly.

Maybe being dragged out here wasn't the worst thing after all.

He truly doesn't expect to see Roman ever again, and he may have moped around the house for a few hours upon realizing that, so it takes him by surprise when he ends up sitting in the corner of some mall as his friends go last-minute shopping and a familiar voice calls out.

"Virgil?"

He almost breaks his neck with how fast he turns around. "Roman?"

Roman grins at him, a bag over his arm, before nodding to the other chair at the table. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Yes! I mean, no. I mean—please sit down."

"That's on me, I should've asked it in a less-annoying-to-answer way." He sets the bag on the floor and tucks his hands into his pockets. "Can I be really honest with you?"

"Sure."

"I wanted to run back to the bench the second I left because I realized I didn't ask you for your number. So, can I do that now before I forget again?"

"Yes," he says, pulling his phone out before Roman's even finished speaking, "yes, absolutely, go ahead. I wanted to do the same thing."

They exchange numbers and Virgil's in the middle of totally not putting a bunch of cute things after Roman's name because he has standards and a reputation—but come on, his last name is literally 'Prince,' what the fuck is he supposed to do?—when Roman calls his name and he looks up, surprised. Roman laughs and holds up his phone.

"Can I take a photo? For your contact?"

"Uh—um—sure?"

"Not that I'd forget what your pretty face looks like," Roman says as he takes a picture in the middle of Virgil blushing like an idiot, "but in case I want a reminder."

This. This is what he didn't remember. That Roman is apparently really good at being charming—literally Prince Charming, this is fake, this isn't real, people like Roman don't actually exist, where are the camera crews and reality show hosts?

"Alright, now that's out of the way…" Roman trails off when he notices that Virgil's still staring at the table, his cheeks bright red. "Hey, you okay?"

"I—uh—you—"

He chuckles. "Still stunnable, I see? Sorry, honey, am I being mean?"

"Okay, well, it's hard to tell how sincere you're being when you're still doing it, so—"

Roman throws his head back and laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, you got me."

"Rude."

"You're still smiling at me, though."

"Shut up."

"Your smile is cute."

"Shut up," he mumbles again, trying to hide his face in his sleeves. Unfortunately, that means he's not balancing his cane against the table anymore and it falls to the ground with a loud clatter. A few people walking by turn to look. He goes to pick it back up only to realize Roman's already doing it, leaning it back against the table. "Oh, uh, thanks."

"Of course." He inclines his head toward some of the stores nearby. "You here by yourself?"

"No. Friends scrambling for last-minute stuff."

Roman makes a noise. "I'm not getting a fantastic impression of these friends of yours who drag you places and then leave you."

"They're not so bad, they know to pick places with easy seating so I can take breaks when I need them. Besides, they know better than to take me in certain places."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Apparently there's only so many times I can call out fancy soaps for smelling like ass before I get politely asked to leave, but—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Roman says, sitting forward with a grin, "you gotta tell me everything now, you can't just leave it there."

And so, Virgil dutifully recounts the story of the time some of his friends decided a fun way to spend the afternoon was to go into the fancy soap and other scented things shop to 'browse,' when in reality they were just going to see what the most obscure and specific scent was and mock it mercilessly. They managed to find everything from 'Bourbon-soaked Cotton' to 'Miasma,' which of course prompted Virgil to point out that they really didn't think that one through because miasma was the 'bad air' that supposedly caused things like the Black Death and you probably didn't want a candle called 'Miasma' in your house, which logically led to them all pretending to be plague doctors by wrapping up the complimentary cardboard box/bag things and holding them in front of their faces like plague doctor masks and acting like they'd discovered some new herbs to treat the nefarious diseases with.

Needless to say, they were politely asked to never come back ever again, and they definitely kept pretending to be plague doctors as they were 'escorted from the premises.'

Roman's fully collapsed back into the chair, shaking with laughter, by the time Virgil finishes telling the story. He has to stop and just look at him, because of course Prince Charming is really fucking pretty when he's laughing, and then he looks up at Virgil with that soft smile again and he can literally feel himself melting inside his hoodie.

"Well," he says through the last of the laughter, "I can see why they asked you not to come back."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugs. "Plus, if my friends actually want to get any shopping done, they decided it's best if I don't tag along so they can actually, you know, focus."

"Can't say I blame them, then. I'd be distracted by you too."

"Roman!"

"Okay, okay, I'm done, I promise." He grins. "I think your face might explode, it's so damn red."

'Yeah, well, whose fault is that?"

Roman holds a hand over his chest and bows halfway, like he's actually out of some period drama and wearing a fancy knight's costume instead of a button-down coat and scarf. "My deepest apologies, Virgil."

"Yeah, yeah, knock it off," Virgil grumbles as he chuckles.

They sit there in the quiet for a few more moments as a few groups of kids run by. The lights strung up around the pillars and various levels of the mall sparkle with that faux-snow-wet look as Christmas carols play over the speakers, Virgil taps his fingers absentmindedly to the beat, watching an ad play inside one of the stores.

"Okay, I have a potentially rude question that you can totally tell me to shut up for."

Part of Virgil immediately raises its hackles, but he turns to look at him. "Okay?"

Roman nods to his cane. "Where did you get your cane? My great-aunt uses one and she's been complaining about how boring her current one is for like, as long as I can remember, and yours is sick as hell."

It is pretty cool—it has this purple holo body and Virgil's stuck all sorts of stickers to it and the base is really nice and it's got an adjustable length too. "I can text you the name of the place?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thank you."

He sends it off and puts his phone on the table. "That wasn't a rude question, by the way. That was fine."

Roman's shoulders visibly slump. "Okay, great, I wasn't—I really wasn't sure. I don't—sorry."

Virgil's eyes widen slightly as Roman starts to…fluster?

"I don't know a lot of people who use mobility aids on the regular and so I don't…really know what sort of things are appropriate to ask."

"You're fine," he says, still a little bemused, "you're doing great."

But then Roman smiles at him all soft again and he has to look away and cough before he starts getting all red again.

"Besides, you're right. My cane is sick as hell and it deserves compliments."

"It's definitely the coolest one I've ever seen. How did you get the stickers to stay so well?"

"There's this Etsy seller who specifically made them to go on mobility aids—she has forearm crutches and hers are decked out with cool shit, so I bought a couple for mine just to try them out and then, well, I couldn't stop."

"Could you send me the name of that place too? My aunt might want some."

"Sure, yeah, give me a moment to find it."

As he looks through his phone, he catches sight of Roman watching him. Not in a creepy way, he's just doing that fond thing where he's got his head slightly tilted and he's still smiling like he's just happy to be here with Virgil and he needs to stop thinking about it right now before his ears start going bright red too.

"There. Sent."

"Thanks, Virgil." He checks his phone just to make sure he's gotten it before he stands up. "I'd love to sit here all day with you, but I do have to run."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'll text you, okay? If you're not—I mean, if you don't have plans, I'd really like to see you again."

"Yeah," he says, grinning like an idiot, "I'd like that too."

He's still staring off in the direction Roman went when his friends come to tell him that they may have gotten kicked out of another store.

Prince Charming: I have another potentially rude question.

Virgil tries not to grin when he sees Roman's text. He knows better than that. Absolutely not.

He fails.

Me: what's up

Prince Charming: How far of a walk is too long of a walk before you need a break?

Me: walking is actually fine it's standing that makes me want to die

Me: i mean i'm not trying to hike a mountain

Prince Charming: No, I suppose that makes sense.

Me: why?

Prince Charming: One of my favorite things to do this time of year is go to the Tadford Park Conservatory. They have this really cool thing they do to get all festive and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? They have places to sit on the way and it's basically a greenhouse so we don't need to lug big heavy coats around.

Virgil quickly looks up 'Tadford Park Conservatory' and scrolls through the pictures of the plants and decorations. Honestly, it looks stunning. He's about to say as much when he gets another text,

Prince Charming: And I have a car so I could pick you up and we could drive.

Me: that sounds really amazing when do you want to go?

Prince Charming: Are you free tomorrow?

Me: sure am

Prince Charming: Can I pick you up at 9?

Me: absolutely see you then

Prince Charming: Perfect :)

Only after Virgil's put the phone down and gone back to what he was doing does he realize he has no idea whether this is supposed to be a date or not.

Is it? No, Roman would've said. Right? That seems like something you'd say. You'd be like: 'hey, I want to do this thing with you as a date.' Or 'hey, I want to take you out and I thought we could do this.' Something like that. Something that puts a big and flashy 'this is a date' sign on it. Roman didn't do that. And Roman seems like the person who would do that. Right? Maybe Virgil should ask. That was reasonable, to ask if something was a dare. But then what if Roman hadn't intended for it to be a date? Then it would get really awkward and Virgil would have to backtrack and then Roman might offer to make it a date out of pity and then it would be even more awkward and Virgil wouldn't actually get to enjoy anything they did because he'd be too busy thinking about how awkward it was and then it would be ruined and—

No. He's just gonna act like he's going to do something fun with a friend. He does that all the time.

Just so happens that Roman's Roman.

It's gonna be fine.

So fine.

He really is so fine—okay, that's enough of that.

He definitely stresses over what he's wearing for way too long before he gets a knock on his door and he just throws a coat over it before he can overthink it and goes to meet Roman. Roman opens his car door for him like he's really some prince that crawled out of a storybook and it doesn't even feel like he's doing it out of pity, like he'd do it even if Virgil didn't have a cane, which is another thing to fret about as Roman drives them to the conservatory. As they walk inside, Virgil goes fumbling for his wallet only for Roman to reveal that he's already gotten their tickets, scanning the code at the front and going over to the coat closet.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, it's on me." Roman hangs up his coat and huffs a laugh when he sees the way Virgil's staring at him. "What's that for?"

"No, really, I saw those ticket prices, there's no way—"

"My mom has a membership, we basically got in for free. It's okay, honey, you don't have to worry about it."

Virgil mumbles something about pet names being unfair as Roman chuckles and they start walking toward the doors. A wave of warm air washes over them as they step through and Virgil's eyes widen as he looks around at the plants and decorations hanging from the ceiling. It's like he's stepped into some alternate reality, trees curling up and over him in a green ceiling as vibrant flowers bloom impossibly bright, catching the glistening light as the giant ornaments overhead twist and turn in the faint breeze. The faint smell of freshly watered plants mixes with the pine and gingerbread from the lobby as they start walking and he can't pay attention to where he's going because every few seconds, he sees something else incredible. Bright blue flowers. A tree with bark like peeling parchment. A crawling vine straight out of a fairytale book. Roman keeps him as much on the path and out of the crowd as possible and he can't even spare the attention to thank him.

"It's beautiful," he manages as they near another door, "it's so pretty, Roman."

"Yes, it is."

"If you're looking at me while you say that, I swear to God—" Roman pushes open another door and they start into a room filled with flowering trees— "holy shit."

Roman chuckles and guides them to a bench underneath one of them. "Do you want to sit for a second or keep going?"

"How close is the next bench after this one?"

"Two rooms down, I think."

"I can make it until there."

They walk through a room of twisting and turning jungle trees, ferns and other smaller plants hiding between the leaves. They pass a pond of koi fish swimming underneath a massive tree. The room with the bench has a long, clear pool in its center, flanked by paths through what look to be walls of moss and other ferns, a waterfall at the far end. Roman walks them carefully over one of the paths to a bench tucked into a little alcove, through which they can see the pool and the bright green foliage on the other side. Virgil sits down, still spellbound at the room.

"I'd ask if you were enjoying yourself," comes Roman's voice, "but I think I know the answer."

"It's like I've been transported to some fantasy realm, this is so cool. How have I never known this existed?"

"A lot of people don't come here. Which is good because I'm selfish and I really like when there's not a lot of crowds." Roman sits back, one leg slung over the other. "But—I don't know why. Maybe it's because they think plants are boring or something."

"They're fucking wrong."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I think so too. I'm glad you like it."

"Okay, it's my turn to ask a potentially rude question."

"Shoot."

"Why here? I mean, it's gorgeous, and the decorations really help, but it's not—a conservatory isn't really what I think of when I think of festive stuff."

Roman sighs. Ripples from the waterfall spread out along the pool's surface. "I don't know, really. I think it's just because holidays are really hectic for me and this place…never really feels like that. It's always sort of like this, calm, serene. Quiet. I think…I think I just really like that."

Virgil turns at the wistful note in Roman's voice, watching him send one of those soft smiles at the pool. The greenery around them almost seems to curve, like the petals of a flower around its center. Roman…fits here, like he really is some prince that even nature itself can't help but adore.

…fuck, he's so far gone.

He loses track of time as they sit there, just enjoying the still quiet of the room. The ferns have their own smell, soft and sweet, that mixes with the crisp dampness of the water as some misters turn on to water the plants. He holds his hand out in front of one, just for a second, watching the droplets catch on his hand and sparkle as he turns them in the light. Roman's side presses against his after a while and he finds himself lost slightly to the solid comfort of it. And then, well, then that's all he thinks about for a while.

At least until his stomach growls and ruins the moment.

"Come on," Roman chuckles, "the food's not far from here."

The cafe bustles with energy after being in that quiet room for so long, and Virgil quickly finds a table to sit at while Roman goes and gets the food. He does have to slightly threaten Roman into letting him pay for their lunch, but Roman concedes after a while and goes to stand in line. He pulls out his phone to send the few pictures he remembered to take to the group chat, when suddenly—

"Shame on you, young man!"

Virgil startles so badly that he almost drops his phone. He looks up to see a stern older woman glaring at him, hands on her hips. "Uh—"

"How dare you?" she says again, wagging her finger at him. "You go and find whoever you stole that from and give it back right this instant!"

"I don't—what—what are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" She points at his cane. "That does not belong to you! You're old enough to know better, especially to steal something like that, your parents would be so disappointed in you!"

Oh. Oh, fuck, it's one of these. Disgust and embarrassment crawl up his throat as a few people at the surrounding tables start to look over. He swallows. "Actually, that is mine."

The woman scoffs. "What do you think, I was born yesterday?"

"That is my cane," he says, voice a bit firmer. "I bought it with my money, I use it for my disability. I didn't steal it. It's my cane."

She looks him up and down over the rim of her glasses. "You? You expect me to believe a young person like you uses a cane? What on earth could you possibly need a cane for?"

And really, he should be used to it by now, he's had ableist assholes like this yelling at him for actual years, he shouldn't be this upset over it. But goddamnit, this day was going well. He was having a good time. And now someone is telling him his disability doesn't exist and he should be ashamed for using a mobility aid and he can feel his eyes starting to water even as he struggles for words.

"Excuse me."

Roman. He looks up to see Roman setting a tray with their food on the table, his hand coming to rest on Virgil's shoulder.

"Would you like to explain why you're bothering someone you don't know?"

The woman splutters. "I—well, I—"

"It is none of your business what someone else does to take care of themselves," Roman says, cutting her off firmly, "you do not get to make assumptions about someone else's life and act as though you know the truth. No one would be so rude as to insist you don't need glasses, would they?"

"People your age don't need canes!"

"And people your age should know to treat people better." Roman gives her a look that's so profoundly disappointed that he can see a few people wince in sympathy. "This time of year is supposed to be about sharing compassion and kindness. I hope for your sake you learn that this season."

He turns his back pointedly and the woman shuffles off without another word.

"Are you okay?" Roman asks, his voice so soft and worried that it almost gives Virgil whiplash. "I'm so sorry that happened."

"It's not your fault," he mumbles, "and…thank you."

"You don't need to thank me for being a decent person, honey."

"Yeah, well…" Roman's hand is still on his shoulder and he dares to lean into it a little. "Still. Thanks."

Roman still looks a little worried but he pushes Virgil's food towards him. "Here. Eat."

"Thanks."

Roman doesn't sit across from him. He sits next to him and after a moment, lets his leg rest against Virgil's. Virgil almost chokes on his sandwich but quickly shakes his head when Roman looks up, concerned.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah, it's…more than alright." Virgil smiles. "You're really great, Roman."

Nice one, asshole.

"So are you." After a moment, his smile widens. "When we're finished, do you want to go see the desert room? There's a bench in there too."

"Cactuses?"

"I think it's technically cacti, but yes."

"Don't make me look up grammar while I'm eating."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Virgil gets another text the night before he's supposed to get lunch with Roman. He peers at his phone, sitting up from his horrible position on the couch.

Prince Charming: Hey, I'm sorry to do this so last minute, but my boss really wants me to come in in the morning tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to come pick you up to go to the place.

Me: is there public that can get me there?

Prince Charming: You'd have to walk a fair ways and it's not like it's nice outside right now.

Virgil glances at the snowstorm outside and winces at the thought of all the ice. He's about to figure out a way to propose a rain check—or snow check—without upsetting either of them when his phone buzzes again.

Prince Charming: I mean, if it's not too much of an ask, I could always pick you up before I go into work and you could come with me? I don't think it'd be longer than a few hours at the most and then we could just go straight there afterwards.

Me: what do you mean come to work with you?

Prince Charming: I could pick you up and drive us both to the arena. There are the offices and stuff upstairs where you could sit and work or do something until I'm done then we could go?

Me: would your boss care that there's just some random person with you?

Prince Charming: You're not just some random person, Virgil. And no, he won't care.

Virgil's too caught up in the fact that Roman said he's not just some random person to really think about it when he sends back a 'yes,' nor did he really read the part where Roman mentioned an arena.

But sure enough, that's what they pull up to the next morning and Virgil's left blinking at the giant sign that says 'Stadium Entrance' as they get out of the car. He glances at Roman, who looks truly nonplussed as he leads the way to the door. He waves at the person at the front—Virgil waves too on instinct—and nods toward the elevator.

"I told them I was bringing someone, you can go on up and find somewhere to sit, if you want. I can come with too if you'd rather?"

"You, uh, you can go. I think I can find something."

"If anyone tries to give you shit, just say you're with me, okay?"

He huffs a laugh. "What, are you some kind of famous person?"

Roman laughs too, but it comes out a bit too forced. "Something like that."

And before he can ask what the fuck that means, Roman's walking off down another hallway and Virgil just shrugs and goes to find somewhere to sit. The elevator takes him up to something that looks almost like an office and he wanders into an open room, sitting down and shooting off a text to let Roman know where he is. He gets a quick acknowledgment and that he'll let him know when he's done. He switches over to the thing he'd been looking at in the car and loses himself quickly in the mindless scroll of the Internet.

He's not sure how much time passes before he glances around for an outlet to charge his phone. He drags a chair over to the corner and plugs in the charger, looking around as he waits for the little beep that lets him know it's working. There's a set of screens on the far wall, each showing a different camera, he presumes. One of them looks out at a loading dock, one of them shows a skating rink where someone's training, one of them shows another empty rink, and the last one has another door—probably a secondary exit of some kind. He shrugs and looks back at his phone.

"Excuse me?"

He looks up to see a man with glasses and a big coffee mug with cat whiskers peering through the door. "Uh, hi?"

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"I, um, I'm with Roman? He said I could find somewhere up here to sit?"

"Oh, you must be Virgil!" Virgil blinks as the man grins and comes over to offer his hand. "I'm Patton, nice to meet you."

"Hi, Patton. Uh—you are? Sorry."

"No, it's fine, you're all good. I'm one of the event coordinators for the arena. Roman talks about you all the time, I was wondering if we'd ever get to meet you."

"Yeah, I, uh…nice to meet you too." Virgil shuffles a bit. "You, uh, have you worked with Roman for long?"

"Sort of—I don't work with Roman directly, but I see him when he's booked here. They've decided to train here this year, which is exciting, but he's so busy all the time." Patton grins, crossing his arms. "But I guess you know that, huh?"

"Yeah, I—wait, you—" he frowns. "What do you mean 'booked here?'"

"For a show or a competition or something." Patton leans down, muttering like they're sharing a secret. "Between you and me, I don't blame you for sitting up here. It gets cold in the rinks, doesn't it?"

"Sorry—can we go back another step?" Virgil shakes his head. "What do you mean, for a show or competition?"

Patton frowns. "For the season."

"What season? Season of what?"

He frowns for another second, before something like exasperation makes him sigh. "Did Roman tell you what he does?"

"No. Not even a little bit."

Patton sighs again and nods to the screens. "That's him, on the camera there."

Virgil turns to look. The only person on the screens is the one skating. Wait—

"That's Roman?"

"Roman Prince, reigning champion," Patton says, coming up behind him as Virgil stares at Roman training on the ice, "I'm not that surprised he didn't tell you, he's surprisingly private about his off-stage life."

Roman skates. Roman is a figure skater. Roman competes at a professional level as a skater. Roman is the fucking reigning champion?

He hears Patton say something about getting back to work but if he needs anything, let him know. He must respond—he hopes it wasn't too rude—but he's too focused on the way Roman is literally fucking dancing on the ice right now. He looks like he's at the Olympics. Shit, has Roman been to the Olympics? Why didn't Roman tell him he skates for a living? Why is he here while Roman is training? And what the fuck did Patton mean about Roman talking about him all the time?

He completely fucking forgets about his phone as he watches Roman skate. Every so often someone else skates up to him—his trainer, probably, even though Roman called him his boss. Shit, Roman really didn't want him to know about this, did he? Is he gonna be mad that Virgil's watching him?

He's really fucking good.

It feels like no time at all before Roman's disappearing from the frame and then he gets a text that he's almost done, coming up to find him, and Virgil's still staring at the screen trying to fit the pieces together that Roman's a professional skater who talks about him to the people he works with.

He doesn't quite manage that by the time Roman's pushing the door open with a breathless smile, his hair slightly messy, and his cheeks glowing from the exercise.

"Hey, sorry about that, but I'm all done, we can…"

He trails off when he notices Virgil staring at the screens, smile fading a bit.

"Right," he says, mostly to himself, "forgot about those."

"You, uh," Virgil mumbles, "so you skate?"

"Yeah. I skate."

There's a moment. Someone down the hall opens a door.

"I'm sure you have questions," Roman says finally, "but can I answer them in the car?"

"Yeah, sure."

Roman's quiet as they go back downstairs, waving to the front desk person again. They get in the car and start driving. Virgil bites his tongue for as long as he can before they finally stop at a red light and he musters his courage.

"Why didn't you tell me you skate?"

He hears Roman sigh. "I didn't mean to keep it a secret from you, it's just…I didn't know how you'd react."

"Did you think I wouldn't think it was a real job, or something?"

"What? No, no, I just—I didn't know if you watched skating or followed it at all or—or if you'd know who I am, or something like that." The light turns green and Roman turns onto the next road. "And then…well, it's not like I know what you do for a living either."

"I'm a systems engineer."

"Oh. That's cool."

"Thanks."

They drive for a few more minutes.

"Patton said you're quiet about your private life," he says, like an asshole, and he wants to take it back as soon as it comes out but Roman's already answering.

"Yeah, well, I'm not famous famous like some people are, but I'm…people know me. And it's not like I want people poking into what I do when I'm not being Roman Prince on the ice. Plus, especially with it being the holidays…" He trails off and sighs again. "Sorry, I don't want to bring the mood down."

"You're not bringing the mood down, you're just talking. You can tell me if you want to."

They stop at another red light and Roman looks at him. Really looks at him, like he's trying to figure out if Virgil's telling the truth. Which he is, he totally is, and he hopes Roman can see that. He must, or at least decide Virgil's not just asking to be nosy, because he looks away again.

"There are people who are into figure skating all year long and that's great, but they're, like, fans. And I love my fans, really, but I don't—sometimes it gets a bit much, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And then there are people who just like it for the holidays because it's 'festive.' Like, 'oh, let's go ice skating, it's Christmas,' or 'oh, let's go see a skating show because it's winter,' that sort of thing. And then they do it, and then it's done, and they go home and have their actual holidays together, and…"

Something terribly sad enters Roman's voice as they sit in the snow at the light, and Virgil suddenly has the image of a performer's smile fading as the lights go out. And it strikes him how terribly lonely what Roman's describing sounds, like he's just something people check off their lists and then move on with those they actually care about. And how much Patton seemed to understand that of course Roman didn't tell him what he did for a living.

"You want people to want to spend time with you for who you are," he says quietly, "not what you are."

"Yeah," Roman says back, equally soft, "that's it."

He looks down at his cane, spinning it in his hand. "I get that."

"I know you do." Roman reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I really didn't mean to keep secrets."

"It's fine, I get it. But thank you for telling me."

The light turns green and they start driving again. The silence feels gentler, somehow, Roman even starts humming under his breath. It's that same song that was playing over the speakers when they first met at the park.

Wait a fucking second.

"You asked me to skate."

"Huh?"

"When we met, at the park, you offered to skate with me. Even though you skate for a living and someone might have recognized you."

"What was I supposed to do?" Roman sighs, but this time it's clear he's going for drama. "I was talking to this cute guy and my brain fell out of my ears."

"You—what?"

Roman glances over and chuckles. "You're getting all blushy again, you know."

"I—what—shut up!"

"Did Patton also say I talk about you all the time?"

"Maybe!"

"Well, there you go, cutie. Wha—hey, hey! I'm driving!"

"You'll fucking live, you absolute dick."

But Roman's laughing again and he looks so happy that Virgil can't be mad for very much longer. And, you know, he is driving, and he would like to make it to the restaurant in one piece.

"You're paying for lunch, you know."

"Whatever you say, cutie."

"If you dragged me all the way out here for nothing, I swear to God—"

"We're almost there, I promise, I promise."

Virgil groans, slumping down in the car seat at Roman makes yet another turn. Roman texted him two hours ago asking if he was free and could they go somewhere really quickly, he promises it's worth it, and Virgil had been too caught up in the sappy floaty feeling of Roman's excitement to say no, and now here they are, driving who the fuck knows where, in the dark, up a path that barely has any lights.

"How do you even know we're not getting lost?"

"We're not lost, I know exactly where we are."

"So if I got out a paper map and said 'where are we,' you could point to it and you'd be right?"

"Well, I'd be more impressed that you had a paper map with this exact area that you could be accurate about—"

"What, you don't think I've got maps?"

"I'd never doubt your map capabilities, Virgil."

"You'd better not, the atlas my mom got me for fourth grade would be so disappointed at you when I throw it at your head."

"I'm sorry, you're the one throwing it and it's going to be disappointed at me?"

"Yeah, 'cause you did something so outrageous it's made me need to throw it."

Roman chuckles as he makes another turn—are they going up a hill or something? "My mistake. Really, we are almost there."

"Uh-huh."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"I believe you about as much as I did the last ten times you've said it."

"I have not said it ten times!"

"No, you've said it way more than ten times."

"Well, if you keep asking 'are we there yet,' I'm going to keep answering you."

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost."

"Are we there y—" Roman reaches over and pushes his shoulder lightly. "Okay, okay, I'll knock it off."

"Look, see that sign?"

Virgil sits up and peers through the windshield at the sign that reads 'Observation Point.' "Yeah."

"That's where we're going."

"Fine, fine, you're not a liar."

"Thank you."

Sure enough, it really is only a few more moments before Roman's pulling the car out onto a large flat overlook and putting it in park. Virgil looks around, trying to figure out what exactly they're doing all the way out here and why Roman was so insistent that they go tonight, when Roman turns the headlights off. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

"Relax, I'm keeping the heat on so we don't freeze." He nods out the window. "Look."

"I can't see shit, Roman, look at what?"

"Give your eyes a second to adjust."

He looks, truly not expecting to see anything. It's just blackness, the afterglow of the headlights still burning his retinas out. He squints. There are surprisingly few clouds out tonight, especially considering the winter weather they're supposed to get later this week. He can sort of see something through the gloom, below them, but it's not that clear yet. Slowly, little by little, his eyes adjust and…

"Oh," he says in a rush of breath.

The entire city sprawls out beneath them. Glittering and shimmering houses, buildings, Christmas lights and flashing decorations. The snow sparkles with it, the glow almost a sea of wonder against the inky blue night sky. Reds, greens, blues, purples, far-away inflatables that must be giant but look like nothing more than storybook characters from this high up. Some of the houses closest to them have trees, right out front, others have sleighs and reindeer, even more have snowmen just barely lit by the edges of the shining lights.

It's incredible.

"I didn't think I'd get a chance to see it this year," Roman says, as if he's afraid to break the silence, "but then it cleared up and I knew it'd be perfect."

Virgil can't say anything. He's too spellbound.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Thank you for asking. This is—holy fuck, Roman, this is so fucking cool."

"I'm glad you like it. I was a bit worried with the roads, sometimes they don't clear them properly, but at least we can sit in the car instead of having to walk or something."

Maybe it's the fact that he's tired, or the surge of sappiness when Roman had said he'd known it'd be perfect and he'd reached out for Virgil, or maybe he's been holding this in since Roman held out that stupid hot chocolate. Whatever it is, Virgil sniffles.

"Whoa, hey, hey," Roman murmurs right away, reaching out for him like the stupidly perfect Prince Charming, "what's wrong, honey? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Virgil spits through his stupid tears, "no, you did—you did everything right."

"O..kay?"

"You did everything right," he says again, "you—you made sure we could drive so we could just sit in the car and you picked me up so you could drive me instead of making me take the bus and you asked how much walking was too much walking and you stood up for me and you asked me if it was rude before you asked about my cane and you got me hot chocolate and you're—you're—"

An actual sob chokes out of his mouth and he claps a hand over it, only for Roman to let out a noise of dismay and coaxes his hand away, holding it tightly. He leans over the console and tenderly wipes away one of Virgil's tears and it's too soft and gentle and perfect—

"You did everything right," Virgil manages, not daring to look at Roman's concerned face, "you—you're too sweet."

Roman lets out the softest noise and strokes his cheek again. "You're worth being sweet to, honey."

"Shut up, you're gonna make me cry more."

"That's okay, honey, you can cry. That's—it's a good cry, right?"

"Yeah, you bastard, it's a good cry." He sniffles. "Now shut up."

"Can I shut up and hug you?"

"Yes."

And goddamnit, an awkward hug where Roman has to lean halfway out of his seat over the console to get his arms around him should not feel so warm and safe and comforting, but fuck it, Virgil's already crying into his shoulder anyway, he might as well fully commit to it. If Roman has a problem with contorting himself to hug a sobbing mess, he doesn't say anything about it. No, he just keeps humming and shushing Virgil with sweet nonsense, his hand alternating between carding through his hair and stroking his cheek. It's not fair, and Virgil's not giving it up for anything.

Eventually, his tears run dry and he scrubs his nose with his sleeve as Roman sits back down, keeping one hand on the back of his neck. Fingers play with the hair right above his collar. He sniffles.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, honey, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I just cried all over you."

"Oh no," Roman says dryly, "however will I survive such a terrible fate?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

Roman chuckles, fingers still scratching lightly at Virgil's scalp. "Really, Virgil, it's alright. I'm just glad I'm not the only one getting all sappy."

If he were less emotionally drained from crying, or if Roman's fingers were less good at making him melt into a boneless little puddle, he might have had a retort for that. Instead, he just looks out over the lights in all their sparkling glory and sighs, leaning into the touch. Roman starts humming again and there they sit, enjoying the night.

"If I fall asleep," he mumbles, "will you wake me up?"

"If you fall asleep, I'll drive you home and then wake you up so we can get you to bed."

"Fine."

He tries. He tries doggedly to stay awake, to not miss a moment of this, of the lights, the night, of Roman and his stupid Prince-Charming self. But he must fall asleep, or at least get close to it, because the fingers in his hair slow, and stop. Roman chuckles softly, and the car starts, and they drive through the night. And for a moment, as they leave behind the sea of lights, he thinks that Roman lied to him—they can't be in a car, just driving home.

Not when it feels like they're flying.

+1.

It's really a surprise that he managed to hold it back for this long, but it was eventually going to happen.

The swirling mist of a monster that is his anxiety has been biding its time, waiting for him to let his guard down to spring out and warp him up in its stupid fucking mess and make him stop appreciating everything that's going on and make it just the fucking worst.

Roman Prince is too perfect, it decides. There's no way this all gets to happen to him and there's no catch. The image of the hidden cameras and the reality show crew comes back; when do they jump out and say it's all fake? When is the illusion going to shatter?

Maybe he's just biding his time and trying to find a way to exit Virgil's life and never return. Maybe he has a partner, or something, and he really thinks Virgil's just his friend. Maybe he's not even gay. Maybe Virgil's just a fling and he's going to leave as soon as New Year's is over. Maybe he's going to get swept up in his life of professional figure skating again and Virgil will be stuck with chasing down his shows and competitions to even see him ever again. Maybe they're going to become the friends that aren't really friends but they still have each other's number for some reason.

Maybe—

"You're thinking too loudly," Roman murmurs from where his face is tucked near the crook of Virgil's shoulder, reaching out to pause the movie, "are you okay?"

Virgil sighs, leaning back into Roman's embrace. He'd surprised him by coming over—well, no, he'd texted to ask if Virgil would mind if he came over, but that was out of nowhere, so it counted—and then they'd ordered way too much food and put on a Christmas movie, and Virgil had pushed for The Nightmare Before Christmas and Roman hadn't protested. And then Roman had asked if he could cuddle him—"Because it's a crime to leave you sitting there on the couch, in the dark, like you have no one to cuddle you, honey."—and then he'd wrapped his arms around him and it'd been all warm and soft and cozy and Virgil hadn't wanted to move to get his hot chocolate from the coffee table that probably wasn't even hot anymore—

"You're still drifting." Roman sits up, pulling away. "Is everything okay?"

Virgil bites his lip. "It's dumb."

"I like dumb things."

"You'll laugh."

"Only if you say something funny."

"You'll be mad," he says in a very quiet voice, and he feels Roman stutter above him. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Oh, honey," he hears distantly, before the couch is shifting under him and there are warm hands carefully cupping his face. "Will you look at me, please?"

He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here in the dark with Roman touching him like he's something precious, but then Roman's calling his name and fuck it, he can't disappoint Roman, so he opens his eyes. Roman smiles at him with that same fucking soft smile that's been taking him out at the knees since day one, and he can tell he's pouting before Roman even says anything.

"I'm not going to be mad," he says with all the patience in the world, "if something's bothering you, I want to know about it. Please, tell me?"

"You're not leaving, right?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth and Roman scrunches up his face in confusion, he wants to run away and hide under all his blankets and never speak to anyone again.

"Never mind. Forget it."

"What do you mean, am I leaving?"

"I said forget it. See? Dumb. Never mind."

"Don't do that," Roman chides gently, pulling his focus back, "don't hide from me. What did you mean?"

Virgil sighs, trying to not lose himself in how warm Roman's hands are. "It's just—everyone leaves. Sort of. I know—I mean I get it. I get how these things go. You—it's the holidays, right? You get all the emotions and then New Year's happens and you move on. I know that happens, I know that's how it works sometimes, and it's fine, I get it, but—"

"Slow down." He sits up. "Why do you think I'm leaving?"

Fuck it. "Because you're too perfect, okay? You—you're sweet and kind and you help me with everything and you're fun to be around and you're funny and you're smart and—and you're really fucking attractive, and I don't—" he takes a deep breath— "I don't know what to do about it anymore, okay?"

Roman's quiet. He's quiet for a long moment. Then his hands leave Virgil's face and he cringes, curling up in on himself—he's done it, he's made Roman leave, it's his fault, it's all his fault, they didn't even make it to New Year's—

His eyes fly open in shock when Roman suddenly hugs him tightly. His breath leaves him in a rush as Roman squeezes, holding him with such a fierce strength that he just ends up going limp in his hold.

"I don't know," Roman growls, "what sort of absolute assholes have been so cruel to you that you think everyone is just going to leave, but they'd better fucking hope we never meet."

"Wh—what?"

"You're fucking perfect too, Virgil. You're smart and you make me laugh and you're genuinely kind to people and you—you make me feel safe, okay?" He pulls back but somehow this is worse because now they're just staring into each other's eyes. "You're amazing. Why the hell would I want to leave you?"

"I—um—well—"

"I don't want to leave," Roman confesses, and fuck, Virgil can hear his heart breaking, "do…you don't want me to leave, do you?"

"No," he says in a rush, "no, I don't want you to leave."

"Great, 'cause I wanna be stuck with you until you're sick of me."

"I'm not gonna get sick of you—"

"Well, I'm not gonna get sick of you either—"

"Great!"

And then he's the one leaning forward to knock Roman over with a hug. Roman wraps his arms just as tightly around him and suddenly there's a kiss being pressed to his head.

Everything stops.

"Shit," Roman breathes, and it curls around his ear, "I…I meant to ask if that was okay before I did it, I'm sorry, I—"

But Virgil's already turned and pressed a kiss of his own to Roman's jaw. He feels more than hears Roman's breath stutter, the chest under him jumping as Roman turns to look at him. Like this, their faces are barely a few inches apart, and Roman smells like hot chocolate.

"It's okay," Virgil mumbles into their shared space, "it's…more than okay."

And there Roman goes, curling his mouth up into that fucking soft smile again, and then he's sliding a hand up to cup the back of Virgil's. "So I can kiss you?"

"Yes, you can kiss me."

Fuck, he tastes like hot chocolate too.

"I'm not leaving," Roman whispers against his lips, not bothering to pull away, "I'm not leaving you, baby."

"Fuck."

"No good?"

"Very good," Virgil mumbles, leaning forward again, but then his phone is buzzing and he's pulling back with a curse to make it shut the fuck up. Roman comes up and wraps his arms around him again, hands slowly playing with the hem of his sweater as his chin hooks over his shoulder. "I'm almost done, I promise."

"Am I 'Prince Charming' in your phone?"

"No," Virgil says, like a liar as he throws his phone onto the floor.

"Aww, that's so cute, baby."

"Shut up and kiss me, Princey."

"As you wish," Roman murmurs, and then Virgil doesn't have a chance to think about the fact that he just called Roman 'Princey.'

They don't end up finishing the movie, but Roman says they can watch the rest over breakfast instead.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@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@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #fic

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angelasscribbles · 2 months

Text

Wild Ride: A Bad Romance Prequel One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Leo

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons

Word Count: 2,503

A/N: If you've read Bad Romance you know who Riley ends up with in the end. If you've read Disney Adventure, you also know that there was a previous weekend with Leo that predates her meeting everyone else. (And she had no idea Leo and Liam were connected until the coronation). Disney Adventure references this weekend (many times lol), but goes into no detail. This is that detail. Or at least the beginning of it.

Way back in November of 2022, I posted a prompt wheel ask event to celebrate passing the 350-follower mark. That was 15 months and roughly 1,100 followers ago. I received 10 asks and completed 9 of them. (and 3 of those launched series, two of which have been completed to date). Here is the list of those asks with links to the completed fics.

This is the last of those asks. And it's only 15 months late. 😆

The ask was from @harleybeaumont and it was for Leo x smut x nightlife. I decided it was the perfect opportunity to answer all those questions I got about what exactly happened the weekend Riley and Leo met in my Bad Romance universe.

I credit @dcbbw for putting the idea of Riley and Leo in my head in the first place. I have loved writing their dynamic both here and in the Disney Adventure mini-series. I hope you all enjoy it as well.

My other stuff: Master List.

Leo Rys, former crown prince, and current international playboy, made his way through the crowd, searching for prey. The BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn Music Festival was one of his favorite New York events. All summer long, free, outdoors, and full of eligible, hot women.

He had been at loose ends since he’d abdicated the throne. Sailing around the Mediterranean on a cruise ship had been amusing for a little while… until he’d gotten his heart handed to him. Again.

He knew he should be doing something with his life, but he didn’t know what. Not yet. He would give himself a couple of years to have fun, then he would get serious about something.

Meanwhile, he was on the prowl for his next good time.

He spotted her next to the stage. The lead singer was eye fucking her, and she wasn’t discouraging it.

She was wearing a crisscross tie-dyed halter top, her hair spilling down her back in luscious dusky waves as she undulated her body while keeping her eyes locked on the singer.

His focus narrowed. Target acquired.

His eyes flicked to the stage. He was hotter than the lead singer, and he wasn’t stuck performing. His odds of pulling her attention were high. He liked his chances.

She didn’t see him coming. It was loud and her attention was occupied. She jumped when a voice spoke in her ear, “I can play the guitar better than that guy.”

She turned her head to say something snarky, but stopped when her eyes fell on the owner of the voice.

Hot as hell didn’t begin to cover it. He was a fucking Greek God is what he was. Blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build, grey T-shirt straining across his chest.

Blond wasn’t her usual type, she tended toward dark and swarthy. But in his case, she’d make an exception.

He looked like he worked out on the regular. He had dimples when he smiled. Broad at the shoulders, narrow at the hips, and barrel-chested. He checked several of her boxes.

And that accent.

Good humor sparkled in his ocean-blue eyes as he jerked his head toward the stage, then yelled in her ear, “I’m better looking than him, too.”

She flipped her hair back as she gave him an appraising look, then leaned forward to yell back, “Are you competing with him for something?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded his head vigorously.

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows raised, “What?”

He leaned down to put his mouth to her ear again. “Your attention.”

“You want my attention?” She yelled back.

“I do. You know what else I do better than him?”

“What?”

“Fuck.”

She laughed. “How can you possibly know that?”

He pulled out his cell phone. “I have references. Want me to call up a few old girlfriends?”

Her eyes ran over every inch of him before replying, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll give you an interview right now.”

“What would that entail?”

He had barely finished the sentence when she grabbed his face with both hands and brought her mouth to his.

Her tongue tangled with his, and he felt himself sinking.

She tasted like cherries and summer; her lips were soft and lush. Her tongue was insistent, demanding.

He kissed her back with everything he had.

When she pulled away, she grinned at him. “I guess that was okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?”

“I said it was okay. Take the win.”

“I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t expecting it! Can I have a do-over?”

“Tell you what,” she stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest, “Take me to dinner and we’ll see where it goes.”

“Fuck yeah!” Leo grinned as he grabbed her by the hand and led her away from the stage.

When they finally got far enough away from the music to talk normally, he introduced himself. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Riley.”

“Nice to meet you, Riley. What do you want for dinner?”

“Food is usually good.”

“All right, smartass. Food it is!” He stopped next to a red ninja motorcycle and handed her a helmet. “Ready?”

“Nice bike!” She said appreciatively.

“Thanks. I like it.” He put his own helmet on and fastened it.

She climbed onto the back of the bike with his help and wrapped her arms around him.

His abs were rock hard. She snuggled closer appreciatively.

He started the bike, flipped the kickstand up, and leaned into it as the bike surged forward.

Riley squealed in delight as the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

He stopped the bike in front of Fred’s Pizzeria.

She pulled her helmet off and hit him in the back. “Pizza? I can’t eat pizza!”

“Ow! Why not?” he asked as he pulled his own helmet off.

“I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry! We can go somewhere else!”

“Nah,” she jumped off the bike with a laugh, “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not allergic to anything.”

“I…what?” he laughed.

She was already at the door. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You coming or not?”

He shook his head as he climbed off the bike. This girl was trouble with a capital T.

Good thing he liked trouble.

The pizzeria was crowded, so they ended up eating outside, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk. The conversation was light and flirty, the looks they exchanged were steamy and anticipatory, and the tension that filled the air was thick and thrilling.

“Hey,” he wiped a smear of marinara sauce from the corner of her mouth, “Do you want to get out of here and go for a ride on my bike?”

“Didn’t I already do that? Isn’t that how we got here?”

“All right wiseass, would you like to go for another ride on my bike? Maybe do other things on it…”

“Other things?” Her eyebrows shot up in interest. “What other things?”

Leo jumped to his feet and reached back for her. “Well, come on and I’ll show you!”

She took his hand and before she knew it; they were on his bike again, speeding through the waning evening light, heading away from the city and toward the shore. Cool, ocean air caressed them as they flew down a coastal highway and then a dirt road. He drove around a barricade and brought the bike to a stop on a small, private beach.

Removing her helmet, Riley shook her hair loose as she asked, “Wasn’t that a no-trespassing sign back there?”

“It’s fine,” He assured her as he pulled his helmet off and tossed it carelessly on the ground before climbing off the bike. “I know the owner.”

He caught her as she slid off the motorcycle, his hands going around her waist as her body bumped into his. He didn’t release her, instead; he pulled her closer. With a cocky grin, he told her, “If you don’t want to make out with me, you’d better say so now.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his grin. “Oh, I was beginning to think you were too chicken to make a move.”

“Too chicken?” He laughed in surprise. This girl had a way of challenging and surprising him, and he liked it. A lot. “I’ll show you too chicken!”

His lips crashed against hers, his grip tightened around her body, and his desire for her became evident as he pressed his body closer to her.

She responded to him as darkness dropped across the beach. One leg went up and wrapped around him as her fingers gripped a handful of his hair. Her head tipped back as his lips traced warm kisses down her neck.

He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply before moving up to nip at her earlobe. She smelled amazing; she tasted amazing, and he needed more. Much more.

His hands worked quickly but gently to pull one item of clothing after another from her body, until she was bare in front of him, her sun-drenched skin gleaming in the moonlight. “My god, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out as he renewed his exploration of her now-naked body. His fingers trailed across silky skin, his tongue caressed taut nipples, and his warm breath sent shivers chasing down her spine. He pulled back with a satisfied smile, pleased with how she trembled under his touch.

“Don’t stop now,” she admonished him, lurching forward to yank his shirt over his head. She gave him a teasing smile before leaning forward and running her tongue up the side of his neck. “It’s only fair if we’re both naked.”

“I cannot fault your logic,” he laughed as he stumbled out of the rest of his clothes. He liked the way she didn’t sit still and wait for his next move. This girl was a firecracker, and he couldn’t wait to watch her explode.

There was nothing between them but the night air as he pulled her back into his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked as she slid out of his arms toward the ground. A moment later, that question was answered as she took the length of him into her mouth.

His hands sank into her hair, his eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back with a heartfelt, “Oh, fuck!”

For several long moments, he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure washing over him. His entire body tingled from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. She was good at it. Too good. “Stop!” He placed one hand on her forehead and pushed her gently away as he stepped out of her reach.

There was a mischievous, almost predatory glint in her eye as she stood back up. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’re not going to last?”

“Fuck, yes…” he drew in a ragged breath as his mind spun with ideas. His gaze landed on his bike and his eyes lit up with delight. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward it. “Come here.”

“What are we—"

“Hold on,” he put the bike on its center stand and swooped her off her feet.

She was still shrieking with surprised amusement as he deposited her on the seat, facing him. He gave her a confident smirk as he pushed her legs apart and knelt before her.

“I like where this is heading,” she arched her body toward him in invitation.

He did not disappoint. This was a man who knew how to deploy his tongue. Her body twisted and withed as she struggled to keep hold of the bike and not topple off of it onto the ground. The soft warmth of his mouth on her most intimate place filled her with heat as the salt air caressed her exposed flesh.

With an expert flick of his tongue, she lost control and slid forward toward the ground as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed through her body.

She was still throbbing from the orgasm when he scooped her up, put her back on the motorcycle, and hit the start button.

His voice was rough and low as he told her, “Turn around. Straddle it like you’re driving it. Trust me on this.”

She prided herself on her willingness to try anything once. Twice, if I like it, was her motto. She turned so that she was facing forward. Leo scrambled on behind her. His arms circled her waist as his breath brushed against the side of her neck. “Now, hold on to the handlebars.”

She did as she was told, gripping the handlebars to maintain her balance as his hands ran freely over her body. She turned her head back to receive his tongue in her mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper in her ear, “Now lean forward, rub that pretty little pussy against the fuel tank and rev the engine.”

Oh, that was something new.

She pressed her body forward as he entered her from behind. He moved slowly at first, sinking into her an inch at a time. The synthesis of him moving inside her, combined with the vibration of the bike pulsing through her clit, sent spirals of pleasure rippling through her body. She controlled the strength of the vibration with the throttle as Leo’s thrusts became faster, harder, and deeper.

She let every inhibition she had fall away as she screamed her release into the deepening night. Ecstasy throbbed in her center, then spread in fiery hot ribbons throughout her entire being as the top half of her body arched off the motorcycle, her head coming to rest on Leo’s shoulder as her lower body rubbed against the smooth metal of the tank.

Her complete and utter abandon pushed him over the edge with her. The sound of her cries in his ears, and the sensation of her clenching around him as a squirt of hot liquid coated his cock, destroyed any vestige of control he had left. With one last savage thrust, he exploded inside her with a guttural roar.

“Goddamn,” he gasped when he could speak again. “That was fucking amazing. Marry me?”

She laughed as she turned her body around so that she was still straddling the seat but facing the opposite direction.

He scooted back a little to give her room and once she was fully turned around; he moved back and pulled her into her arms, raining kisses down the side of her face and neck and dropping them along her shoulder.

She squirmed happily under his affections. “I think marriage might be a bit premature.”

“Fine,” he huffed, pretending to take offense. “But at least come back to my room with me. I have more tricks up my sleeve.”

She hooked her arms around his neck. “That I can manage.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were back in his hotel room. She was in his shower, and he was on the phone ordering room service. She requested chocolate sauce and whipped cream and damned if he was missing out on whatever she had planned for those.

He hung up the phone and flopped down on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. Staring up at the ceiling, he let his mind wander a little. He knew they had just met, but he was completely bewitched.

She was mesmerizing. Her fire reminded him of another woman, the one that he hadn't been able to get over. In his whole life, there had only been two women he had been remotely interested in holding onto, and both had slipped through his fingers. Katie had married someone else, and Liv might be in love with his brother.

He had come to realize that his infatuation with Katie had probably been nothing more than a rebound. How does one move on after being dumped the night before you were planning to propose?

He pushed those thoughts away.

Tonight, he had Riley to focus on and he was determined to show her the time of her life.

Who knew? Maybe it was the beginning of something great.

#bad romance #trr au #trr #trr fanfic #leo rys #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #choices fic writers creations #the royal romance fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #riley brooks

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