Tumgik
#(it was either going to be roman or virgil there - man)
Text
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.
 
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.
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.
2.
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.
3.
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."
4.
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."
5.
"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!"
"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.
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decent0distraction · 4 months
Text
Hi! You may know me as the person who does all of those Our Flag Means Death AUs, theories, and posts that either ruin your day, make you laugh, or both. Mostly both.
But I have something else for you.
My take on family!Sanders Sides - based off of the whole family roles the Sides gave themselves in the Five Years video.
To refresh your memory, Patton labeled himself as the dad, Logan as the mom, Roman as the son (the hotshot), Virgil as the (gay, emo) cousin, Janus as the (sassy) aunt (who talks shit about everyone), and Remus as the (fresh out of jail) uncle.
BUT
This AU of mine is… messed up.
Ok ok ok SO
We begin with Janus Duke, who has just moved back to the town of Sanders Bay, a lovely seaside community.
Janus has spent the last 10 years raising their son (Janus uses they/them pronouns bc I said so), moving from place to place for reasons that Virgil doesn’t know about yet that we’ll get into later. Stay with me.
Virgil is 16 and on his first day at Sanders Bay Secondary Academy (what a name, huh?), his dad, Remus, is getting out of jail.
When Virgil was about 6, Janus and Remus had decided to walk from their house into town to pick up their son from the babysitter. They were about halfway there when someone attacked Janus, cutting his face (resulting in scars on one side of his mouth, eye, and cheek, resembling a snake like face). Remus reacted violently towards the person who just hurt his spouse, the cops are called, and it’s made out to look like Remus had hurt Janus, who was unconscious.
When Janus finally came to, they were in a hospital, being told that their husband had been arrested and arranged.
Cut to present day, Virgil’s first day is met with a slight complication when an idiot threatre-jock hybrid accidentally knocks into him, causing him to hit his head.
Roman Hart insists that Virgil allow him to escort him to the nurse, who just so happens to be his dad, Patton Hart.
Roman’s other dad is their home room and history teacher, Logan Hart.
By the end of the school day, Roman and Virgil are sort of friends. But when Roman asks Virgil if they’d want to hang out or something, Virgil explains that he has to get home because his dad is finally home.
Roman just assumes that Virgil’s dad is in the military. He doesn’t even actually get to ask, because Virgil is too busy running out to Janus’s car.
Everything is going fine for a little while. Virgil studies with Roman after school, or they go to the mall, eventually going to Roman’s house.
The Harts are the nicest people in town, and Patton simply adores having Virgil around.
Janus, one day, is waiting with Remus in the school pick up lane for Virgil. The two of them are having a nice, causal conversation that is interrupted by Janus seeing their son talking to them.
“Oh, my God!” Janus slammed his foot on the break and put the car in park. “It’s them! It’s them!”
Remus looked to see their son standing with another boy, while the boy’s parents talked to Virgil.
They were Patton and Logan Hart, two people the Duke parents were happy to never see again.
When Patton put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, Janus struggled to rush out of the car. Remus followed.
“Virgil!”
The anxious teen turned to watch his mom run to him and pull him away from the Harts.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
Virgil was beyond confused. “What? No! I’m fine. What are you-“ He stopped when Remus started to approach.
“Dad? Dad, I don’t know what’s happening, but nothing happened. Dad!”
But the man ignored his son in favor of getting in Logan’s face. “You’d do right by you and your family to stay the fuck away from mine.”
Logan didn’t even flinch. “And it would be correct for you to avoid threatening my family.”
Virgil was ready to try to defuse the situation before Janus began to have a panic attack. “Mom?”
Remus is then distracted by his spouse needing his help. He gets his little family in the car and they get home, where the parents sit down and finally tell Virgil the truth.
The truth is, Patton Hart and Janus Duke were friends. When they were 20, and Janus had a child and Patton didn’t, he got upset. And when he saw baby Virgil, he decided that he needed that child.
He acted like everything was fine. He offered to babysit Virgil so the new parents could have some time to themselves. He paid for Janus to be attacked, for Remus to be framed.
But when Janus woke up, he called Patton, screaming, begging. He knew Patton had the baby.
And Patton knew that if he kept Virgil, everything could be traced back to him eventually.
So he returned Virgil, acting like he was just watching the child for his friend.
But Janus moved away, moving from place to place so that they couldn’t be found.
Janus was so desperate to have their husband and their son’s father back that they believed Patton and Logan had moved on.
But to see that man anywhere their baby, Janus couldn’t handle it.
Virgil knows the truth now. How can anything be the same?
Before they can try to figure it out, the doorbell rings.
Janus flinches and Virgil is still busy hugging his Mom to bother with the door.
“I got it,” Remus tells them, answering the door to a man in all black and sunglasses.
“Look, whatever you’re selling, we’re not interested. Try the neighbors across the street. A lot of packages. Maybe they like sunglasses, or whatever you’re situation is-“
“-I’m not selling anything, sir. I’m looking for Remus Duke.”
Turns out, this guy isn’t a salesman. He’s Detective Remy Dormir (idk, I got the name from a human!AU fanart), hired by Roman Hart to find his birth family. (He arranged for this a year before the Dukes moved back to Sanders Bay)
This eventually leads to the discovery that Remus Duke’s father, Romulus King, got a woman pregnant before his passing. By this time, his son Remus had moved far away and changed his name, never successful at pleasing the man.
So yeah, Roman and Remus are half brothers. Which means Virgil’s only friend in Sanders Bay is his half uncle, since Virgil is the biological son of Janus and Remus Duke.
Yeah, there’s no romance between Roman and Virgil. Sorry to disappoint you Roman/Virgil shippers. There’s nothing wrong with that ship, it just doesn’t work for this AU.
That’s all I have so far. If I find that I missed something, I’ll add it later.
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Text
Over The Rainbow (3/5) - Virgil
<- Previous | Next ->
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Notes:
Virgil makes an appearance!! Sorry this one took me so long - I genuinely just kept forgetting to post it like an idiot, lol. Hope you enjoy regardless <3 TW for ableism in this chapter.
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“Alright actors! Gather up here before we begin warmups today,” Their director called out as the last person arrived in the theatre, “Tech, head backstage - you’ll just be continuing what you were doing last week - actors, yes, I have role assignments for everyone!”
A cheer went through the small crowd of collage students assembled, Roman included. He’d tried pretty hard on his audition! Patton and Logan had both helped him perfect it and everything!
“I’ll leave the sheet here for you all to look at and scripts for you to collect. Once you’ve gotten your role and your script I’d like you to spend this session going through the script and marking your cues, thank you.”
Roman was one of the first people to get to the front and check for his name. When he found it he groaned. 
“I’m the lion ?” Roman sighed, “The cowardly lion ??”
“At least you're not the tin man, babe,” Remy said, mockingly patting Roman on the back with his coffee cup. Roman rolled his eyes and moved over to grab a script. Oh well, it was a little disappointing, maybe he was a little disheartened by his role in their production of The Wizard of Oz, but… it would have to do. 
Roman found a quiet spot near the wings on the stage and sat down, beginning to look through his script and mark out his lines with his red gel pen as instructed. It was about ten minutes into the task that Roman began to hear the strains of an argument from the wings. 
“We needed the orange fur, not the green,” Someone snapped.
“Well you should’ve sent someone else then,” Someone else snapped back immediately, “Considering I can’t see either of those colours.”
“Or maybe you’re just being difficult!” The first person said, voice getting just a little louder, “Since you say you can’t do literally every task I give you! It’s like you just don’t want to fucking help at all!”
“Dude it’s not my fault I have a lot of soulmates,” The second person tried to defend, “And you keep giving me colour related tasks! Not to mention I’m literally disabled - I can’t do certain things, dude.”
“What so it’s my fault then?” The first person snapped, “We wouldn’t have this problem if you could just do it right.”
Roman frowned, how rude, he thought, people can't help their soulmate colours or their disabilities!
“I- I’m not saying it’s your fault ,” The second person said, sounding uneasy, “I’m just saying it’s not mine either.”
“Oh no, totally not your fault that you’re incompetent and lazy,” The first said and Roman nearly growled. Who the fuck thought it was okay to talk to someone like that? He stood up, glancing at the director and upon finding that she wasn’t looking hurried off the stage to find whoever was having this argument.
“Excuse me,” Roman said - it certainly wasn't hard to find them, considering the argument had evolved into whisper-yelling and finger pointing, a heap of green faux-fur piled between them. Both of them looked up at him and Roman almost immediately felt as though he’d been slapped across the face.
Violet eyes .
Man, Roman really hoped the one with purple eyes wasn’t the one who’d been being a dick. 
“Hey - uh, Roman, right? You’re an actor, did you need something?” Said the other person and Roman breathed a sigh of relief, thank god his soulmate wasn’t the asshole. 
“I heard arguing, I just wanted to see what was going on, is everything okay?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow. Purple looked embarrassed as they leant on their cane, while the other bulked. 
“Nothing major , just Virgil failing to do what I ask again .”
“I couldn’t see the goddamn colour!” ‘Virgil’ yelled, kicking the fur on the ground and storming off, Roman sighed. 
He looked back up at the asshole, raising an eyebrow, “People can’t control what colours they can see, y’know.”
“He’s lying to get out of doing the work, no-one has yellow as a colour, nor orange,” The guy rolled his eyes, “You know how those people are.”
“Those people?” Roman repeated, frowning, “No, I don’t think I do, do you care to explain?”
“I mean, you know how lazy they can be?”
“Who?”
“ You know- come on man, don’t make me say it.” Asshole sighed. 
Roman raised an eyebrow, “I mean, maybe re-evalute your opinions if you can’t even say them out loud, maybe think about whether that's an okay mindset to have? And for the record, yeah, people can have orange as a soulmate colour.”
Without waiting for a response, Roman huffed and walked away after Virgil. Eventually Roman found them sitting in the costume closet, hunched over and tugging at their curly white hair. Roman took a deep breath and knocked on the open door before walking in.
“Hey, are you okay?” Roman asked, they looked up with a worried look in their eyes.
“I’m fine ,” They huffed, glaring at him before looking away, “I don’t need you to save me or whatever this is.”
Roman huffed in pure confusion for a second - what did that even mean? “I’m not- I wanted to make sure you were alright since you left and he was being a total dipshit? I also wanted to, y’know, say hi, since apparently we’re soulmates?”
“Yeah, I figured,” Virgil said, glaring at him. 
“Did you dye your hair yourself?” Roman asked, regardless of their clearly hostile attitude. Their hair was mostly white, but the ends were dyed a pastel purple.
“I- yeah,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at him, “Why?”
“Uh- I think it looks cool?” Roman tried, “I did mine too.”
“Nice,” Virgil huffed, “...thanks, by the way, he is a dick.”
“Yeah, I got that vibe,” Roman rolled his eyes, “I’m guessing that’s not the first time?”
“Nope,” Virgil said, popping the ‘p’.
Roman frowned, going over to sit down next to Virgil - far enough away that they weren’t touching, “Have you reported it?”
“Why bother when they’re not going to do anything about it?” Virgil asked, before huffing when Roman raised a confused eyebrow, “They never do. ”
“I’ll report it,” Roman said, “And I’ll make them do something about it, I can be quite stubborn, you know.”
Rolling their eyes, Virgil stood up again and went to leave before Roman jumped up to stop them, “Wait! We’re soulmates, right?”
“Well yeah,” Virgil glared at him.
“I’m guessing you don’t know any of the others?”
“No, I haven’t met anyone else, where is this going?” Virgil stuffed their hand in their pocket, “I need to get back to what I’m supposed to be doing before Toby has another tantrum.”
Roman sighed, “I know some of the others, Green and Blue, I wanted to give you my number so… maybe we can chat? No pressure or anything, just, I wondered.”
Groaning, Virgil pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for a few seconds before handing it to Roman, “There, put your number in, on the condition that you buy me coffee after theatre.”
“Can do!” Roman said, grinning as he typed his number into the box and handed the phone back, “I’m gonna go talk to the director now.”
“I’m not gonna be able to persuade you to leave it, am I?”
“Nope, unless you want my brother to come down here and probably murder him,” Roman shrugged, Virgil looked alarmed for a second, before sighing and shaking their head. 
“You found Purple?” Patton gasped, leaning into Logan’s side as he worked on some project. The three of them were sitting on Logan’s double bed, because he was lucky enough to have a private dorm room, “Why’d you not introduce us?”
“They seem really shy,” Roman sighed, “And super standoffish, I don’t want to overwhelm them.”
“That is very considerate,” Logan told him, “And surprising, considering how excited you and Patton seem to get about almost everything.”
Roman rolled his eyes, “ Yeah I’m excited! That’s why I came here to gush about them instead of dragging them over to meet both of you at once and possibly put them off of all of us forever!”
Shrugging, Logan turned back to his work, “Fair enough.”
“Oh oh! Tell me about them!” Patton gasped, flopping onto their front so that they could look up at Roman with wide eyes, cupping their chin in their hands as they waited. Roman chuckled.
“Well… they’re tall, with hair and skin as white as snow! Their hair falls in waves and fades into a lovely lilac at the ends!” Roman said - trying to put as much poetic emphasis on the words as he could - gestures included - before giggling, “Apparently they dyed it themself - um, they like sweet coffee - they ordered a caramel macchiato with extra cream after theater, they dress mostly in black, their style seems very interesting - an even mix of emo and scene…”
Roman kept talking, repeating just about everything he had learned about their fourth soulmate from the conversation they’d had over coffee after theatre. By the time he was done, Patton seemed entirely enamoured.
“What’s purple like?” Patton asked once Roman had finished talking.
“Roman just told us all about them, were you not listening?” Logan frowned, tilting his head. 
“No no! I mean, purple, the actual colour!” Patton corrected, “What’s the colour look like?”
“Oh, well it’s kinda like, blue, but if you put pink in it.” Roman shrugged, “So kinda a warmer blue.”
“Cool!” Patton grinned, before sighing dreamily, “I can’t wait to see it, and them, oh Roman when can we meet them?”
“I was actually thinking…” Roman said, frowning at his phone, “I’ll ask them too, but I was wondering if maybe it would be better to add them to our groupchat first before we all met? So they get a chance to get used to you guys?”
Patton gasped, eyes brightening, “That’s a wonderful idea!”
It was two weeks of near constant texting and the occasional phone call before Virgil finally told them they were comfortable meeting everyone in person. Patton had been overjoyed, barely able to sit still as Roman told them both that they’d be meeting Virgil at a cafe after the rehearsal that day. 
Logan had smiled - properly - and told them he was looking forward to it, Patton had practically pulled the both of them into a hug and squeezed them tightly until Roman could barely breathe.
Later on, Roman managed to persuade Virgil to come with him to meet their other soulmates, and the plan was in motion. 
“So… um… what should I expect?” Virgil asked as they walked beside Roman, one hand stuffed in their jacket pocket and the other gripping tightly to their cane. 
“Well - Patton will probably want to hug you,” Roman chuckled, “Which you can definitely say no to - they’ll ask.”
Virgil seemed to relax minutely as Roman said that, he sighed.
“You can leave at any point,” Roman reassured, “You don’t have to stick around if you’re overwhelmed.”
Rolling his eyes, Virgil pushed their tinted glasses up their nose, “Yeah yeah, you’ve only told me two hundred times, I’ll be fine.”
“Cool, cool, right,” Roman chuckles, “Sorry.”
“You seem nervous , Princey,” Virgil smirked at him, Roman scoffed.
“Nervous? Me? Never! I don’t know such a thing!” he protested, Virgil laughed.
“Yeah yeah, you’re very brave, it’s okay,” Virgil patted him on his arm as they walked into the cafe, Roman rolled his eyes even as he held the door open. Virgil laughed, walking in before stopping in his tracks as his breath hitched and his eyes widened. 
“Woah,” Virgil whispered, “so much colour - this cafe is blue ?”
Roman chuckled, “Mhm!”
“Hey!” Patton called, waving widely from across the cafe, “Come on! Come sit! Hi!”
“Come on,” Roman said to Virgil, leading the way through the crowd over to the table in the back where Patton and Logan already sat with both Roman and Virgil’s coffee orders already on the table along with their own. Patton was so far out of their seat with excitement that they were almost standing whilst Logan was quietly telling them to calm down.
“Hello,” Virgil said as he sat down in the nearest chair, placing their cane to lean on the table, “Um, nice to properly meet you guys?”
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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)
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genericpuff · 1 year
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Fun fact, the story of Hades and Persephone has actually been romanticized since long before Twilight came out. Never mind antiquity, but in terms of modern media, the earliest example I can think of comes from Hercules: the Legendary Journeys, where the episode that retells the Homeric Hymn to Demeter came out in 1995! And if we do account for antiquity, the Ancient Greeks themselves saw the marriage as ideal and there actually are a few ancient sources that basically have Persephone preferring Hades and the Underworld to being aboveground with Demeter, but it should also be noted that these sources are Roman and not Greek (specifically Virgil's Georgics and Lucan's Pharsalia).
Don't get me wrong, Twilight definitely had a lot of influence here, I just thought I'd point out that this interpretation of the myth has been around for way longer than most people probably realize.
Oh I know, but that's sort of next to the point I was trying to make in that previous post. When I compared it to Twilight I guess like... I'm comparing it to the entire genre and trend of shitty manipulative romances being both romanticized as well as turned into "global phenomenons". Like they were romanticized before but at least they were just shitty cheap books in the back of the bookstore, you know? Now that they're turned into these big Hollywood fiascos, it makes it even easier to normalize these types of relationships and concepts. Even if we look back on Twilight and 50 Shades now and call it out for what it is, there are still a lot of people who absorbed those books/films in incredibly damaging ways (especially younger audiences in Twilight's case). You are what you eat, is what I'm saying. And it's a much bigger problem than LO but I do think LO is a symptom of the problem, which is - instead of stories being written by men through a toxic male gaze in which women are objectified and hypersexualized and men are told not to cry, now we have stories being written by woman through a toxic female gaze in which women are "empowered" by being carried around like dolls by an emotionally stunted man who wants to cry but just whips them in the bedroom instead.
It's still pretty much the male gaze but with extra steps.
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IDK if I'm explaining that well though LMAO Obviously I don't want to generalize and reduce the entire dark romance genre to its worst writers but this is why it annoys me to no end that stories like Twilight, After, 50 Shades, and LO keep getting propelled to the forefront of the genre zeitgeist. It makes the people who aren't a bunch of creeps writing their kinky self-insert power fantasies look bad just by affiliation. And it sets an incredibly shitty standard for those who are introduced to the genre through these works.
The reality is (and I'm speaking very candidly here from my own experiences so take with grains of salt if you must, you don't have to agree) being a woman - or being an under-represented minority/individual in general, whether you're LGBTQ+ or neurodivergent or POC - doesn't mean you're magically protected from thinking or writing the same stuff as the problematic majority. You are what you eat. If you grew up consuming toxic heteronormative content (which EVERYONE does because it's FUCKING EVERYWHERE LMAO) then of course you're gonna go on to write the same stuff unless you challenge it in some way, either by reading other opinions that don't "play it safe" just to look good, or reading other content entirely that isn't subject to the norm of "what's popular". Always be willing to broaden your horizons and don't forget - just because it makes a lot of money doesn't automatically mean it's good.
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lovelylogans · 8 months
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the parent trap
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: small world and getting smaller
Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.
Virgil stands by the door, arms crossed and hopefully backing up Janus’s sense of Stern Parenting.
Virgil isn’t sure how well he’s doing from how he’s collapsed on the couch, his hand over his eyes.
“One of you,” Janus says, pointing vaguely in the direction of the twins, where they’re seated side-by-side on the opposite couch. “I’m not sure which one at the moment—but one of you told me your father knew I was arriving here today.”
The twins exchange a look. Virgil narrows his eyes.
“And I’m here to tell you,” Janus continues, “that the man I just saw in the elevator had absolutely no idea he and I were in the same country. Let alone the same hotel.”
The twin in the white jacket—Roman, unless they’ve somehow managed to swap clothes between Virgil seeing him last—slumps lower on the couch, looking cowed.
“You saw Papa already?”
“Yes I did,” Janus says hotly. “The man went completely white-faced, like I was the bloody ghost of husbands past! Can one of you get something cold for my head?”
Roman rushes from the couch to the small bucket that Virgil’s already filled with ice, grabbing a small washcloth at random and dipping it inside, then wringing it out.
“I mean,” Janus continues, at last removing his hands from his eyes and rolling to face the boys, “don’t you think I’ve thought about what it would be like to see your father after all these years?”
The twins exchange another look. Virgil feels something finally, at last, click to place in his brain, and his eyes go wide.
Oh, God. They’re really going through with it.
“Well, let me tell you,” Janus barrels past any response either boy could have, standing to pace, “me waving like a mindless idiot while Patton Parker’s got his arms wrapped around another man is not exactly the scenario I had in mind! Thank you, darling, you are not off the hook,” he adds, accepting the washcloth that Roman gives him.
And then the door to the bedroom opens.
And then one of the most visually pleasing men Virgil has ever seen steps into the room.
“What’s going on here?” The man says mildly, then, “Roman!”
“Uncle Logan!” The one in the white jacket who is absolutely Roman cries out, leaping to his feet. “I’ve missed you—put her there!”
“Erm?”
“Handshake, Uncle Logan,” Remus elaborates, looking amused, “It’s American, he means do the handshake” and Logan smiles down at his nephew.
“But of course,” he says, and grasps Roman’s hand in his, shaking it up and down once, twice—
And they progress through a handshake, almost quicker than the eye can take in all the details—clapping and slapping of hands, bumping of hips, shaking of fingers, grinning at each other, Logan’s eyes shining with some restrained semblance of fondness down at the boy that Virgil’s grown to care for so deeply.
Oh no. Oh no, his bond with the children—it’s making him hotter.
“Oh!” Logan says. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize we had guests—erm, Logan James. I’m Janus’s cousin. How do you do?”
“Virgil Schemmenti—I’m Patton’s best friend slash professional hanger-on,” he says, then, dryly, “I hope it’s okay if I don’t know the choreography yet.”
Logan simply smiles, and Virgil clasps his hand in his. 
His hands are soft, well-moisturized, and warm, sliding smooth where they meet the calluses and little burn marks Virgil has earned via cooking and helping out around the vineyard. The entirety of sensation of his body seems to narrow down to where they’re clasped together, to a sort of soft, contented quietness in the back of his brain—the pleasantness of his hand, gently but firmly cradling Virgil’s, the bare and simple pleasure of touch…
“Boys,” Janus says, and both Logan and Virgil drop each other’s hands quickly, turning their attention back to the situation at hand.
Oh, Patton is going to be so smug, or at least as smug as he knows how to be. How pretty Janus is this, how the James genes must be impeccable that, Virgil had sighed and scoffed and nodded along all these years, and now here Virgil is crushing on the cousin.
“You are going to tell me why you lied and brought me here without telling your father.”
“Were they?” Logan says, adjusting his glasses. “Erm, excellent. Virgil and I really ought to give you some privacy—perhaps I should see you to your room—”
“Oh, perfect,” Virgil says quickly, “We can go on over there, check out the mini-bar situation—”
“Wait,” Janus says, and his voice thunders through the room so powerfully that both Virgil and Logan freeze in their tracks.
“Does everyone here know something I don’t know?”
“Dad,” Roman says, and his voice is very gentle. “Papa’s getting married.”
All of the fight goes out of Janus’s face, his expression gone from stern to shell-shocked in an instant. He collapses back onto the couch with an audible gasp, his hand going over his mouth.
He looks paler now than he has the whole time he’s been near-woozy with liquor.
“To Cruella de Vil, he’s awful, Dad,” Roman wheedles. “We can’t let him go through with it, we simply can’t!”
“He’s awful, really, all wrong for him,” Remus says, picking up the thread. “And the only way he won’t marry him is…”
Remus hesitates, looking back and forth, before he nudges Roman in the ribs. “You tell him. You know him better.”
Roman crosses from one couch to the other, taking Janus’s hand in his.
“...Is if he sees you again,” he finishes warmly, with a dreamy sort of sigh that tells Virgil that, of the pair, Roman is absolutely going to grow up into exact same sort of hopeless romantic that Patton is.
Virgil tugs lightly on Logan’s shirt sleeve, and, once his attention is caught, jerks his head toward the door. Logan nods in agreement, and the pair of them start inching away.
“Wait a minute,” Janus says incredulously, looking back and forth between the boys. “You’re not seriously trying to set me up with your father?!”
“Actually, we are,” Remus says. 
“You’re perfect for each other!” Roman insists, clutching at Janus’s arm. 
“Hold it!” Janus says, and both Virgil and Logan freeze in their tracks.
“Okay,” Janus says tightly, then, firmer, “Okay. Let me say this loud and clear, since clearly none of you understand it. Patton Parker and I have absolutely nothing in common… anymore.”
“Um,” Remus says, raising a hand, and then promptly lowers it when Janus shoots him a fearsome look.
“Plus,” Janus barrels on. “In case you haven’t noticed, he seems extremely content with his—his long-legged, tight-trousered, clinging fiancé. And the pair of you will explain to your father that I am here for one purpose, and one purpose only. And that is to switch the two of you back and rearrange our custody schedule.”
“That’s two things,” Remus says helpfully.
“Remus Parker!”
“What? It is,” Remus complains, then, twisting, “back me up, Uncle Logan, that’s two things.”
“Listen to your father,” Logan says, avoiding the question entirely.
Virgil presses his lips together to keep from smiling, and instead he nods somberly at the boys in an attempt to impart some level of Adult Seriousness upon them.
He has the feeling it won’t work for long.
Patton’s heartbeat has been roaring in his ears the entire elevator ride.
“Uh, hey, Maddox,” Patton says, catching his fiancé’s—yes, his fiancé, pull yourself together, Parker!—hand in his. “I’m gonna run downstairs for a couple minutes—see if I can catch the kid, give him a spare room key, walk around a bit, clear my head.”
“Clear your head?” Maddox says, at last turning from where he’s been inspecting his face in the mirror. “What do you have to clear your head about? Is something wrong?”
“Uh, no! No, no,” Patton says. “Everything’s perfect—” a kiss pressed quickly to Maddox’s cheek— “I just gotta go. Um, shake off some nerves.”
“Nerves?”
“They’re your parents, Mads, I want to make a good impression,” he insists. He should make a good impression, he does want to make a good impression, he’s not lying, it’s just—
“We’re still going ring shopping after lunch, right?”
“Ring shopping?” Patton says, hand on the door, then, “Right, of course! For the wedding. Um, yeah, ‘course. I’ll see you there—here—I mean—downstairs.”
He quickly opens the door and slips out before he can stick his foot in his mouth anymore than he already has, darting down the hall.
“Hey, Pa,” his son says, trundling down the hall. “What’s up?”
“Uh, nothing! Nothing, Roman,” he says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, did you…?”
Roman blinks his big brown eyes up at him.
“Nothing—never mind,” Patton says hastily. His kids would never pull one over on him like that, right? Not with something so serious. “Do me a favor—keep Maddox company, will you?”
Roman nods.
“Thanks so much,” he says, then, hesitating, wheels back around.
“Do I look okay?” Patton says, tugging at his suit jacket. “Like—presentable? You see me and can’t tell I’m a man who collects ugly sweaters, right? I look like a—a serious, well-adjusted person who’s a proper adult?”
“You look fab, Pa,” Roman says. “Absolutely fab!”
Patton reaches over to squeeze his son’s shoulder, then he resumes his run back to the elevator.
Is he here? Is he really, really here?!
Remus hums to himself vaguely as he wanders the lobby, trying to think of the best way to really push stepfather-to-never-be’s buttons, when the elevator door opens and a familiar face comes barrelling out, adjusting his tie nervously.
“Pa!” He blurts out, before realizing he maybe shouldn’t have brought attention to himself.
“Rome!” Patton says, then, “hey, how’d you get down here so quick? I thought you were going to keep Maddox company?”
“I was?” Remus says, then, “I mean—yeah, I was! I think he stepped out of the room, I was just looking for him…”
Then, unable to help himself, he leans in for a quick hug around his stomach.
“It’s gonna be great, Pa.”
“Aw,” Pa says, hugging him back. “Thanks, kiddo, I really appreciate the pep talk—oh! I completely forgot when I ran into you upstairs. Here’s your room key. Why don’t you go on up and make sure nothing’s malfunctioning? And grab your jacket again, too, it might get chilly later.”
Remus accepts the shiny gold key, turning it over in his hands. “Sure,” he says, and pockets it. So he has run into Roman, then; it’s probably a good thing Roman’s kept his jacket zipped up.
“Great—thanks,” Pa says, and he’s off again, charging through the lobby, head turning back and forth, obviously looking for someone.
Remus grins to himself. Mission accomplished. He approaches the elevator and mashes the button as many times as possible within ten seconds as he can, humming some old song his Pa has on some of his cassettes.
Let’s get together, yeah yeah yeah, why don’t you and I combi-ine…
The elevator door opens, and Remus waits to step on as a man clad in black steps out, ignoring the presence of the world around him, inspecting his makeup in a compact.
“Have you seen your father?” The man asks, snapping shut the compact.
Remus blinks at him. “You talking to me?”
“Who are you, Robert DeNiro?” The man says snidely, and oh. Remus sees. “Yes I am talking to you.”
“Maddox,” Remus sneers, then, “yeah, I just saw him.”
“Well, hel-lo?! Where is he?”
“Oh,” Remus says. “He went thataway. I think.”
Remus narrows his eyes at him as Maddox cranes his neck to look down the hall; he’s wearing an icily blue suit jacket over whatever little outfit he’s put on to try and snare Remus’s father. Sure, he looks pretty—his hair is coiffed within an inch of its life, his skin is suspiciously smooth and lush in a way that screams of some kind of product—but Remus knows. Oh, Remus knows the sort of devilishness in a person.
Because he aspires to have it too. Except not like that—Maddox’s brand of evil is just too lame.
“What are you staring at?” Maddox snaps.
“Nothing,” Remus says, letting his lip curl up in disdain. “You’re just very pretty. That’s all.”
Maddox rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break your rotten streak and suddenly be nice to me.”
Oh, boy, Maddox thinks Roman’s been on a rotten streak?
“If you see your father,” Maddox says, striding off, “tell him he’s late, and I’m waiting.”
He makes it sound like the biggest sin in all the world, to keep Maddox Blake waiting.
“Whatever you say,” Remus mutters under his breath. “Petruchio.”
Janus understands that Remus said that nothing that he could be given would speed this whole aftermath of vodka thing along, but also he’s eleven and a dratted little troublemaker and Janus is a bit ticked at him at the moment, so he’s decided not to believe him and seek out his own cure.
Which led him very handily to the hotel bar. So many people said hair of the dog, some semblance of it had to be true, didn’t it?
“Here you are, sir,” the bartender says, sliding across some… concoction in a tall glass. “This’ll cure anything you got. Just don’t ask what’s in it.”
Janus makes the fatal mistake of sniffing it and then promptly gagging.
“Probably shoulda warned you about that, too,” the unflappable bartender says cheerfully, then goes about collecting abandoned glasses, clearing places for other unfortunates who would find themselves at a hotel bar before noon.
Janus takes a deep breath, plugs his nose, and goes about drinking as much of the foul stuff as quickly as he can.
It’s a deeply unpleasant affair. Janus thinks he’ll be put off any variant of smoothie for about a month after this.
But finish it he does, quickly sliding the glass as far away from him as possible, and goes about getting a water glass and trying his best to wash the taste of it from his mouth, drinking the entire glass of water just through that conquest alone.
“Ugh,” Janus says very quietly, patting his face with a cocktail napkin, then stands to get himself even more water, pausing briefly as a man in a sleek blue jacket sits a couple barstools away.
“Pardon me,” Janus says briskly, and goes to refill his water glass. Free water. Say what he will about the Americans, the invention of free water in restaurants is an excellent one.
“Martini,” the man in the blue jacket tells the bartender, briefly checking his watch. “Dry, please.”
Janus slides back onto his barstool, with his water and the lackluster presence of bar peanuts standing guard beside him. He eats one to help with the taste and wrinkles his nose. He didn’t even know peanuts could go stale.
He eats another.
“Your martini,” the bartender says, returning. “And your bill, Mr. James.”
“Thank you,” Janus sighs, though he thinks paying for that ought to be considered highway robbery and also perhaps a violation of the Geneva convention. He signs it and pushes it back to the bartender.
The man sipping his martini tilts his head, spots his signature, and his eyes widen, before he turns to face Janus more fully.
“You’re Janus James?!”
“Guilty,” Janus says, and he tries his best not to wince as the man lets out a squeaky sound of delight, promptly abandoning his barstool to sit directly next to him.
“I just saw a suit you designed in Vogue and fell completely in love with it,” the man gushes. “I faxed your office just yesterday, but they said you were out of town and didn’t know if you could make another—I can’t believe it! It’s fate!”
Janus decides to do the polite thing and not point out that he is out of town, and presumably on vacation, and therefore not working, and instead he simply nods.
“I’m Maddox Blake,” the man says, flashing a set of truly startlingly white and straight teeth at him, extending a hand. “How do you do?”
Janus accepts the hand with some bafflement. Americans.
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puzzled-pegasus · 7 months
Text
More songs that have the Sanders Sides vibes/fit Sanders Sides
Teenage Dream by Katy Perry is an oddly cute song for Prinxiety??
Him and I by Halsey and that other guy is 100% a Dukeceit song
Baby, It's Cold Outside but with Dukeceit?? How lovely would that be?? Ik the song lyrics in general are all creepy but like with the more playful tone of Janus doing his Saying The Opposite of the Truth thing it would be cute
Also The Snake by Eric Church is a good song for Janus and Remus; Janus, of course, being the rattlesnake and Remus being the copperhead.
Life Is Fun by TheOdd1sOut but with like, either Prinxiety, Virgil and Thomas, or Virgil and Patton
I like to listen to Dear Theodosia from Hamilton when I think about Virgil and Patton even tho it's not a perfect parallel, it's just a good song about parental love :)
Crybaby by Melanie Martinez but with Virgil and Patton as well
This one is TOO FUNNY TO NOT INCLUDE: My Oh My by Camila Cabello is literally the perfect song for Remy
Also Little Red Wagon by Miranda Lambert
Less funny but Speechless from the new Aladdin taken out of context is perfect for Logan. Born Without A Heart by whatever her name is (lol) and False Confidence by I think his name is Noah Cyprus? Are good for him too as well as Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons.
A Million Dreams is very good for Roman.
Human by Christina Perri for Patton (sad)
I Don't Dance by Lee Brice is a really cute for Logicality :3
hero n villain duet is great for Anxceit BUT with Virgil as the "villain" and Janus as the "hero"
Also see: Just Give Me a Reason by P!nk
Exs and Ohs by Elle King is great for Remus heheh
Also Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez
Also Poker Face for a gender swap/Lesbian AU
Copycat by Billie Eilish is really really great for if you want some angst between Remus and Roman. Also, bad guy for Remus but Only If you imagine him singing the "might seduce your dad type" while making eye contact with Patton and then Patton going bright red lmao
Oh And Also good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo for Janus directed at Virgil
Janus and Remy would both really love the song Any Man Of Mine by Shania Twain so do with that information what you will lol
So uh...I don't know why, but whatever the I Have Been Searching For You reunion song from Centaurworld is called, it has Logince vibes somehow??
Fragile Things for Virgil also
There are definitely more but these are all of em off the top of my head. Lmk if you agree with these or have any other songs you like to listen to when thinking about the Sides!
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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 7 months
Text
On Death's Doorstep (pt 36/?)
[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]
Word count: 1501
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Anxceit, Karrot Kings
Warnings: kidnapping, evil government agencies, abandonment issues, certain characters need therapy
~~~START~~~
And to think, when Janus woke up this morning, they’d thought the only plans they had were to watch the end of Totoro with Patton. Poor, naive first-thing-in-the-morning Janus, little did they know.
The entire household, minus Patton, was assembled in the living room that had been Virgil’s for less than twenty-four hours before he’d run off to be stupid and heroic. Some of the tension that hung thick in the air might have been due to the fact that this was the first time Logan and Remy had been in the same room since Remy’s resurrection, but Janus had more important things on their mind than whether or not Logan was a bad father.
Remy had turned the TV on sometime between when Janus had left, and when Logan brought them back down, so now they had the dull voices of the either incredibly oblivious or paid off newscasters as they speculated the identities of the victims and the likelihood they would be saved droning on in the background. In Janus’s — admittedly biased — opinion, only a moron would fail to see that this was a targeted attack; a completely unknown villain attacks a mall, steals nothing, kidnaps two civilians, and leaves without a fight? Unrealistic.
No, unfortunately all the pieces seemed to be coming together, and Janus did not like the picture they were forming. First, someone somehow knows — or guesses — where Logan will strike, and frames him for blowing up a building and killing a vigilante; then the Director of the Metahuman Affairs Agency shows up on the doorstep of the mother of said vigilante and asks some… probing questions that suggest the Agency is out to get the father of the vigilante (who happens to be Logan); and finally, a supervillain just happens to kidnap the fathers, and only the fathers, of the city’s runaway superhero.
The MAA were the clear culprits, and Janus did not like Virgil’s odds in this fight.
“We have to go after him!” Roman declared loudly, lowering his volume only slightly when shushed. Patton had mercifully stayed asleep so far, and while their luck couldn’t last forever, no one wanted to fast track that conversation. “He’s one of us now, and he needs our help.”
“As much as I want to go after him,” Janus said, all the while shooting worried glances towards Patton’s door. “We don’t know where he went. He can track people and teleport; we have no leads to follow.”
“Maybe he’s–”
Whatever Remy was going to say was cut off suddenly as Patton’s door began to creak open.
Everyone held their breath as a barely awake Patton shuffled out, cat stuffie clutched in his hand.
“Daddy?” He asked, pushing his glasses up with one hand in order to rub the sleep from one eye.
Janus looked to Logan to help; the older man merely gestured at Patton as if to say, “this is your job”. Right, Janus’s job. They could do this.
Janus steeled themself up and tried to project an air of calm — it wouldn’t do to add to the distress Patton would no doubt be feeling in the air.
“Hey, buddy,” they started, approaching Patton slowly, like he was a bomb just waiting to go off. Patton, unfortunately, was already starting to tear up. “Daddy’s not here right now–”
“No!” Patton yelled, cat stuffie held against his heart in a death grip.
“It’s gonna be alright–”
“NO!”
“Pat–” Janus reached out to comfort the child, but their hand passed right through him.
“Nonononono!” Patton continued to scream, but Janus was more focused on their hand and the way it passed this way and that through Patton’s shoulder and arm without making any kind of contact.
“Logan, dear,” Janus heard Babs start behind them.
They were starting to panic, and they knew most of it wasn’t their own, that Patton was unintentionally projecting, but that didn’t make it any easier to overcome.
“All the floors are phase-proof,” Logan replied, no doubt answering his mom’s unasked question.
“Patton please,” Janus begged, unable to get their hands on the screaming five-year-old. “We’ll get him back, I swear!”
But Patton wasn’t listening. The cat slipped from his hands and landed solidly on the ground. The lack of comfort item in his grasp only caused Patton to wail louder.
Janus wished desperately that they knew the right words to say that could comfort Patton, that they could hold him while his world fell apart. But all they could do was watch helplessly as Patton cried for his dad.
Eventually, someone sat on the floor next to Janus. They turned to find Remus picking the cat stuffie up off the ground. She started making the cat dance around as she told what Janus found to be a very strange story about the cat’s adventures; it wasn’t until the third left-field plot-twist that Janus realized what she was doing.
They were trying to shock Patton out of his distress. They were trying to soothe him with their voice and surprise him with her words.
It wasn’t until the cat’s boat was sunk by the Kraken that Patton’s wails quieted into sniffles, and by the time the Kraken married both Godzilla and Mothman — with the cat as the Best Man, of course — that Janus found they could reach out and touch him.
Gingerly, they pulled Patton into their arms. He went willingly enough. Their distress spiked from the direct contact with the still projecting Patton, but there was something almost cathartic about it now.
“It’s not forever,” Janus promised, fat tears rolling down their face as Remus handed Patton the cat back. “We’ll bring him back as soon as we can.”
“Promise?” Patton asked weakly.
“Double pinky promise!” Two Remuses said at the same time, offering their pinkies to Patton. Patton didn’t take them, but he seemed satisfied as he leaned further into Janus’s embrace, panic receding slightly.
Janus looked around to find that while one Roman was hovering nervously, and another one and Logan had gone to make breakfast in the kitchen. Barbra was staring directly at the TV, but Janus didn’t doubt she was paying more attention to them than she was to the news, and they didn’t mind thinking so. Remy looked away quickly when Janus glanced at her, but she had definitely been watching the scene as nervously as Roman was.
“Are you hungry?” They asked Patton gently. The toddler nodded against their chest. “Do you want to go to the kitchen with Roman?”
“‘Kay,” Patton answered tiredly.
Roman moved instantly, carefully lifting Patton from Janus’s grip.
“Come along, my young prince,” he said, lacking his usual enthusiasm. “We shall venture forth and find some pancakes!”
“I don’t know how anyone raises children,” Janus muttered once they were far enough away, leaning fully against Remus. “Especially superpowered children.”
Babs laughed. “Logan was a handful, that’s for sure. Of course, I did have the unfair advantage of knowing what he was going to do a little in advance.”
“What about Emile?” Asked Janus before they suddenly realized their mistake. They tried to backtrack, but Barbra was already waving them off.
“I don’t mind talking about Emile,” she smiled a little sadly, but mostly fondly. “The best way to honor his life is to share it.”
Logan definitely did not share this philosophy, and the only reason Janus even knew about Emile was because they’d needed Logan to explain his sudden change in demeanor before they’d allow him to commit crimes with them.
“Emile was very bright,” Babs said, doing a wonderful job of acting like she didn’t know what Janus was thinking. “He could have gotten into trouble if he’d had a mind for it, but he never did. He adored his brother, and was always following Logan around — of course, Logan adored him too, but you’d never hear him admit it.”
“Did he have powers too?” Remus asked eagerly, Janus was pretty sure she and Roman had been pestering Barbra for stories about Logan as a child and had been taking in every scrap of information hungrily.
“He had a touch of super strength, but he almost never used it — mostly he just pulled the fridge out when his father had a mind to clean behind it. My boys,” she mused wistfully. “I hope they’re showing Atlas what for.”
Janus tried to smile at that, but they didn’t have much in them.
“I’m worried we’re not going to be enough for Patton,” they admitted. “But I don’t know what to do besides getting Virgil back.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Remy started, raising her hand. Janus and Remus both startled, having almost forgotten she was there, Babs just smiled encouragingly. “But I think I have an idea.”
Janus looked at her, then at the TV she’d been watching. A hero Janus vaguely recognized from the news was escorting Backlash out of an abandoned-looking warehouse. Behind them, a second hero was escorting the mostly unscathed Thomas and Nico Flores-Sanders.
~~~END~~~
Ten points to whoever can guess what the supervillains’ next move is lol
ODD taglist
@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14 @lunatatic
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No More Yielding But a Dream Fic
Title: No More Yielding but a Dream
Word-Count: 2066
Pairing: Ambiguous Prinxiety
Summary: The fae are fair folk, not kind folk. They should never be confused with the latter, because a fae's kindness is not like a human's kindness. 
Roman knew this, of course. He heard the tales from his brother and others. But then, the tales that no one liked telling were how humans liked to trick and harm and hunt their own brethren in the name of self-proclaimed kindness.
This is how on the eve of a midsummer, Roman ran through the woods. He ran into twisted thickets and past barbed thistles. He ran as he heard wolf howls and vulture screeches. If the fae would not have him, the woods would. 
Either one would be better than the fate that awaited him otherwise.
Warnings: Fae AU, Angst with a Bittersweet Ending, Injuries, Implied torture/abuse, blood mention, Implied Villain!Remus, Implied Death, Virgil is a morally grey fae (he does not have human morals so uhh yeah)
Rewrite of a ficlet I wrote a while back, this fic idea has been rotating inside my brain for awhile now. Quick shoutout to @hiddendreamer67 and @lefaystrent who inspired a bit of the latter half of this fic with their suggestions of the original ficlet’s aftermath.
-
On the eve of a midsummer, Roman ran through the woods. He ran into twisted thickets and past barbed thistles. He ran as he heard wolf howls and vulture screeches. If the fae would not have him, the woods would. 
Either one would be better than the fate that awaited him otherwise.
“You shouldn’t go into the woods when the summer reaches its peak,” Roman’s brother told him once as a child, “You might run into a fair folk.”
“A what?” He asked, his little face screwed up tight in confusion.
“The fae–they’ll trick you, try to ask for your name to take you far, far away. They’ll make you dance until your feet bleed–oh! Imagine the blood dripping onto dandelions!”
His eyes had widened then, terrified at such a thought. That was then, this was now. On a midsummer’s eve, many moons since his adolescence, he found himself in the woods. It wasn’t an accident, not really. It was out of survival.
 He kept going until at last he reached an arc of mushrooms. Every instinct within him screamed to step away, to go around, to move anywhere but closer to it but he ignored them. With legs like wood, he stepped inside. Nothing happened at first. Birds continued to chirp as the trees were gently swayed by the summer breeze. A fox yipped in the distance. 
“Why hello there,” A silky voice crooned from behind him, “you’re far from home, princey boy.”
Startled, he swiftly turned to see a man standing before him. Well, not quite a man. A fae to be more precise. Windswept chestnut hair and eyes with slitted pupils. Pointy ears and limbs too long. An ethereal aura surrounded them, something wild, something wonderful all in one. Their clothes were made of fine silk cloth draped over by a black cloak that shimmered purple in the broad sunlight.
“I’m not a prince.” Roman protested, “not any–anymore at least.”
“Oh?” They took a step forward, “What are you then?”
“I’m…” He stumbled a half step back, his legs threatening to collapse beneath him, “I do not know.”
“You must know something,” The fae persisted, “May I have your name, at least?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, hardly able to withstand the next words that would come out of his mouth. Oh he was a coward, so far removed from the fearless, brave prince he had aspired to be.
“R-Roman,” He forced out, tears pricking his eyes, “Roman Montgomery Leroy, that’s my full name–now please, just take me away, do with me what you wish!”
Hands caressed the sides of his face, cool to the touch. He looked up at the fae, shocked to see a grimace marring their features. Wasn’t his name what the fae sought after? Why else would they ask for it?
“I know humans are foolish, but you are exceptionally so.” They growled, “seriously, what is your true intent? Surely you know better than to trick a fae.”
“No-no trick,” Roman insisted, “My brother he-grskf–”
His word ended in a hiss of pain as the fae traced their fingers across his broken collarbone. He nearly forgot about it with the rush of adrenaline that it took to get here.
“You’re hurt.”
“Well, yes, but not badly.”
“You have a broken bone,” The fae said, “isn’t that what humans consider to be a ‘bad’ thing?”
Roman stared off into the ground, swallowing. “Depends on the circumstances.”
“So what? You have come to me in hopes of healing your injury and taking petty revenge on your brother, I presume?” The fae scowled.
Roman shook his head, “I meant what I said–I don’t care what you do with me just please–take me far, far away from here!”
In the nearby distance, a hunting horn wailed, causing Roman’s stomach to drop. No, no, no. He thought he’d have more time. 
“Romaaan!” His brother yelled, so faint yet so close all the same, “Come out, come out wherever you areeee!”
He needed to run, to get out of sight before his brother found him. His legs crumpled to the ground before he could take a step. He struggled to rise, hindered by fatigue and the fact it’d been several days since he was allowed a morsel of food. 
Little black dots invaded his vision as he was lifted up into the air. Had his soul finally ascended from his body? Wait no, it was the fae’s doing. They held him in their spindly arms, cradled close to their chest akin to a mother with her babe. They whispered something and then the forest spun, the trees becoming a big blur.
When his vision cleared, he found the fae tucking him into a bed. An actual, real, literal bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept somewhere that wasn’t hard stone or dirt.
“Whatareyoudoing?” He asked, his words slurring together.
“Doing what I wish with you,” The fae quipped, “Now hold still.”
“Why–ARGHH.” Roman yelped as a burning sensation spread across the area around his collarbone. It lasted only a few seconds, the pain dissipating as it went.
“You…healed my collarbone?”
“Well of course. Broken humans are not entertaining to mess with,” The fae rolled his eyes, “Now, go to sleep Roman.”
With the command, Roman’s eyes began to droop. A peaceful drowsiness settled in his bones, one he hadn’t experienced in quite a long time. The fae brushed his bangs out of his face, causing him to whimper. Nobody has touched him so fondly, not since his brother became king.
“Don’t worry,” The fae said, his appearance morphing, twisting into something else, “When you wake up again, your brother will be no more.”
-
The fae were fair folk, not kind folk. They should never be confused with the latter, because a fae's kindness was not like a human's kindness.
Roman knew this, of course. He heard the tales from his brother and others. But then, the tales that no one liked telling were how humans liked to hunt and trick and harm their own brethren in the name of self-proclaimed kindness.
Still, when he finally awoke again, it was in a warm bed of soft feathers and a snug leaf-like blanket. Not the slightest tremor of pain ran through his body nor did any exhaustion cling to his frame. It was perhaps the most refreshed he felt in a long while.
"You're awake." A wispy voice greeted him. Roman looked to see that the fae was peering from up above him in a dark abode that almost looked as if it was spun together by a giant spider.
"What--are you an arachnid?" Roman asked, the words impulsively rushing out of his mouth.
But the fae didn't punish him for his impudence. They gave a long blink to his words, before bursting into a melodious laughter.
"Nah," The fae said at last, "You could say I am a friend of theirs, however."
"Oh." Roman said, not knowing what else to say. The fae stared down at him, the precision of their facial features half hidden in shadows. Were they bemused or exasperated by him? Roman could not know.
Such a feeling was a familiar one--one could never tell the mood swings of his brother.
A shiver tickled his spine just then. He had not known if he'd find a mushroom circle, let alone if it would summon a fae. It was out of sheer desperation he offered his name, his life, so freely to a fae's whims. He had not stopped to think if perhaps he doomed himself to a fate even worse than of his brother's making.
A slender hand tilted his chin up, stirring from his thoughts. "You are troubled."
Roman found himself in the gaze of the fae's eyes. He did not take much note of them in the woods; he was much more occupied with the threat of his brother than anything else.
But being so close to the fae, he could see that their eyes were in fact colored differently from one another. One took on the dark green of forest canopies, while the other reflected the rich purple of lavender flowers. Eye colors that no natural human would ever possess.
"I am...fine." Roman swallowed.
The fae snorted, shaking their head, "You really are moronic aren't you? You cannot lie to me, Roman."
The fae's usage of his name sent a jolt through his body. There was a power behind it, a warning that the fae did not have to respect any resemblance of free will within Roman.
"Don't you remember what I told you?" The fae continued on, their hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind Roman's ear, "You have no need to be worried--I upheld my promise to you."
"Promise?" Roman choked.
The fae shook their head, a laugh bubbling underneath their breath. "You really don't remember, do you?"
With a flick of their hand, a bright flash of light emanated from their palm. When it faded away, a crown dangled in front of Roman's gaze. A crown encrusted with the kingdom's finest gems and dried blood; the high king’s crown. A crown that was once promised to him. A crown that his brother made certain was never Roman’s fate to wear.
Roman clutched onto it without permission. His fingers ran through the edges, feeling every engraving and etching added on through the centuries that his ancestors whose heads this crown rested upon. They were all there–every carving that his tutors endlessly lectured to him that each had its significant and importance. 
Except, his fingers brushed against a new one–a kraken grasping a spear in each of its many tentacles. Remus’s symbol–his sigil that followed every decree issued from his crimson throne.
As a former prince, Roman was dictated from an early age how to think, feel, act. In this moment, he knew he should be sickened, repulsed, disgusted–anything but the relief that ran through his veins like a rain dousing out a raging fire.
“W-why?” Roman whispered, holding the crown tightly in his grasp, “I did not ask you to give me a warm bed or to heal my body nor even to vanquish my brother. I only asked to be taken far away. Why this kindness?”
“Kindness?” The fae questioned, a smirk settling onto their features, “I believe you’re mistaken, human. Is treating a beloved possession with care what you consider kindness? Just because I mend what is mine and take action to prevent further damage does not mean I am kind.”
Oh, oh. This was what the tales warned about of the fae–they were cold, unkind beings who see humans as being nothing in their eyes. Roman was the fae’s possession, no different than the crown resting in his hands. But he was a well-cared possession nonetheless and that almost felt like a kindness unlike what was given to him by his brother.
Still, what would happen when the fae inevitably became bored of him? Roman could only hope he’d be given a swift, painless death.
“Roman,” The fae said, commanding his attention, “you are mine. I do not throw away what is mine frivolously. Do you understand?”
“I–” Roman blinked, “Did I say that out loud?”
The fae huffed amusedly as they tapped a finger gently against Roman’s forehead. “No, but you might as well have. You gave me your full name–that is, your whole being, all that makes you who you are–to me. That means every thought, every feeling–that belongs to me.”
Roman watched as the fae laid their hands over Roman’s own that still held firmly to the crown. He allowed the fae to lift his hands up and guide it until the crown rested at last upon his brow.
“Roman Montgomery Leroy, you are my prince, mine, you belong to no one else. As long as you draw breath, you will never have a reason to worry. Do you understand?”
Roman inhaled deeply as a smile graced his lips for the first time in months. “Of course I understand, why would I doubt your words?”
He should be alarmed, perhaps petrified, of the immense power the fae held over him. But in fact, any concept of worry faded away completely from his mind as an unwavering confidence took its place. 
He was Roman, he was the fae’s prince and there would be no reason to ever fear his brother or anything else ever again.
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naminethewriter · 7 months
Text
What Dreams Are For
Chapter Two: Rumors
Masterpost | Previous | Next | Ao3
Story Summary: Dreams are weird. Especially when you’re metaphysical. There is a distinction between your own dreams and that of your whole. Even though Roman doesn’t know at first that he’s trapped in a dream, he does know that something is wrong upon waking in an unfamiliar room. He thinks he’s in the Imagination but can’t say for sure. Just what has he gotten caught up in?
Cast as the evil Prince and forced to act out the twisted storyline of Thomas’ dream, Roman, with help from Patton and Virgil, needs to figure out what is happening while constricted by what his hateful character would do and say which is not at all pleasant.
We dream for a reason. And as much as Roman likes to be the center of attention, this dream isn’t about him. Someone else is crying out for help.
Content Warnings: Teasing, Partial Mind Control
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The doors are pulled open once again, revealing two servants – Roman feels his posture straighten as the NPCs come into view – as well as a taller figure, his raven-black hair tied back into a ponytail and clad in armor that he does not look comfortable in. He lacks his usual dark make-up under his eyes, but it is undeniably Virgil who enters the room and bows deeply to both Roman and Patton.
“Your Royal Highness. Royal Advisor. Good morning.” His voice is deep and gravelly. “I have the report on the performance of the new trainees of the Royal Guard if you are able to spare me some time.” While he seems composed at first, Roman quickly notes that Virgil’s eyes are darting around the room, especially towards the windows and the second door on the opposite side of the room, close to where Roman and Patton are still standing. Their compulsion has made them step apart somewhat as the doors opened.
“I am amenable to hearing you out now,” Roman answers as soon as his brain has processed Virgil’s unusual appearance. “If you are as well, Royal Advisor?”
Next to him, Patton nods. “Yes, of course. You are welcome to join us for breakfast as well, Sir Virgil.”
“No, that’s alright. I’ve already eaten,” Virgil says, waving off the servants that had moved to clear him a place at the table. “I won’t be long either, I’m leading a trainings exercise soon.”
“Admirable as always, Captain,” Roman praises and takes his seat again. Huh, so Virgil’s the captain of the royal guard then? Honestly a good fit in his opinion, even if the man himself would probably disagree.
“I am honored to receive your praise, Your Royal Highness.” Virgil once again bows. As he straightens up again, he clasps his hands tightly behind his back, his posture very clearly indicates that he is on high alert. He is anxiety after all, Roman muses as he waves his hand in the direction of the servants still at the door to dismiss them. They leave without a word and again Roman feels the control of his body return to him. Before he can say anything to Virgil however, Patton barrels into him, hugging him tightly.
“Oh, Virge, I am so glad to see you, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, his eyes looking misty again. Virgil, who had stiffened up at the sudden physical contact, relaxes a bit, his shoulders dropping. He doesn’t return Patton’s hug, but he does bring up a hand to the other’s shoulder and squeezes.
“Yeah, me too Pat. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Roman raises a brow. “Who were you expecting then?”
“Well, Remus I guess.” Virgil’s answer is hardly more than a mumble but Roman just manages to hear him. Patton finally lets go of Virgil and takes a step back, watching his face.
“Why were you expecting Remus?”
Virgil scratches the back of his neck nervously. “’Cause he’s done stuff like this before? Like, he would kidnap me in the middle of the night and I’d wake up in the Imagination. Though normally he either leaves me a note if he just wants to prank me – which more often lead to him forcing me to do a scavenger hunt to get back to the Mindscape, or he’d be close by with some stupid plan he wanted my help with. I thought since he recently showed himself to Thomas, he might have thought I’d go along with his annoying shit again.”
“Language!” Patton chides and Virgil rolls his eyes. His words had been calm but Roman can see his hand tighten on the handle of the sword strapped to his belt.
“So, when you woke up in an unfamiliar place, you just thought it was Remus’ doing,” Roman summarizes and Virgil nods.
“Yeah. Like I had a feeling things were off, like I said, usually Remus would show up not long after I woke up, and the whole ‘being restricted in front of others’ isn’t usually part of this, but I was hoping Remus just learned some new – very annoying – tricks since I left. But if you’re here…” He trails off, biting at his lip.
“If we’re here this is something bigger, you think,” Roman finishes his thought and again Virgil nods.
“Something like that. If he’s behind this in the first place.”
“You think he’s not?” Patton asks, fiddling with his fingers nervously.
“I’m not sure. This doesn’t seem like his usual pranks. And I haven’t been to his side of the Imagination in years, but… It feels different than that.”
“I agree,” Roman hums. “It’s not his side or mine but it’s still… connected somehow.”
“So, you have no idea what’s going on either?”
“Not really, no. I can’t get creative control at all, something’s blocking me.”
“That’s… not at all comforting.” Virgil stands rigid, staring at the ground, still biting at his lip. Roman wishes he had answers for him, but he is just as lost as the other two.
“I know. We need to find Remus. With his help I might be able to do something.”
“We can’t be sure he’s even here though, can we?” Patton sighs, sitting down on the chair next to Roman’s. Roman pats his shoulder in an effort to comfort him as Virgil speaks up.
“I’m pretty sure he is. On my way here I heard something about a Second Prince who apparently is not very well liked by the other knights.”
“That does sound like it could be him,” Roman muses. “If we assume this isn’t his doing and he was cast as a character in this story just like we were, then being the less liked prince would be fitting.”
“Hold up, what do you mean ‘character’ and ‘story’?” Virgil interjects, brows furrowed. “I thought you didn’t know what’s going on either.”
“I don’t. It’s just speculation on my part. Since we“—He points at Patton and himself—“have to act a very specific way around the servants, I figured that we might have been assigned to fulfill certain roles in a kind of story, at least while others are around. I set up something similar in the Imagination once. I was working on a play but was stuck on how to proceed, so I recreated the story there and made some guidelines on how the characters acted before taking the lead role for myself and just… let it play out. The guidelines ensured I wouldn’t break character, but they couldn’t restrict me as harshly as this place does.”
“That’s… kinda creepy, dude.”
“Oh, shut it, Gerard Gay! How I deal with my writer’s block is none of your business!”
“Kiddos, please don’t fight.” Patton’s voice sounds so drained that Roman instantly feels bad. He apologizes quietly, as does Virgil, before standing up to give Patton a small neck massage. The father figment sighs in relief as he lets some of the tension in his shoulders drop.
“So, what do we do now?” Virgil asks.
Roman shrugs. “We need more information first, I think. Try and find out more about that second prince you mentioned. Maybe some leads about the others.”
“Well, about that. When I heard about that prince, they also mentioned one other. A ‘stuck-up brat that finally learned his place.’”
“That… doesn’t sound good,” Patton mumbles.
“If he’s connected with Remus, maybe it’s Janus?” Roman guesses.
“Could be. I’ll try and get some more info out of the other knights, I guess.”
“I think the servants avoid talking about certain things with me,” Patton sighs, “so I don’t know how useful I will be. A few times they got really quiet as soon as I got close.”
“Well, you might be able to find some hints in the paperwork they make you do. Since you’re kind of the administrator of the kingdom at the moment.”
“But I don’t understand those papers! It’s so many words and there’s so much of it!”
“Look, padre.” Roman moves around the chair and kneels down, looking up at Patton while holding his hands reassuringly. “Since we’re supposed to play along with whatever setting we’re in, there is some information that will be provided for you. I, for example, was able to tell where each door I passed on my way here leads, despite not ever being here before. If you concentrate on your work, that should also work for you. I’m guessing it just comes to me more naturally since I’m connected to Thomas’ creative core.”
“Alright, I’ll try it. Thanks, kiddo.” Patton smiles up at him and Roman pats his shoulders one more time before stepping back.
“Then let’s try meeting again around dinner time,” Roman decides, clapping his hands once. Patton cheers though it’s still a bit lackluster.
Virgil starts moving towards the door. “I’ll get going then. If anything happens, call me, understood?”
“Promise, Stormy Knight.” Virgil huffs at the nickname, glaring at Roman halfheartedly before he slips out of the door. Roman sighs, getting back to his seat.
“Let’s finish breakfast, padre. We got a long day ahead of us.”
~~~
Virgil wipes away the sweat from his forehead. Training was tough but he found he enjoys it quite a bit actually. A set routine of movements that aim to protect himself and others, a reassuring thing for his usually worried mind. He is in need of a break however, so he steps away from the open courtyard where they had lined up training dummies, and into the shade of the palace walls. He leans against a pillar and takes a drink from his waterskin.
Not far from him, two other knights are talking and while Virgil isn’t usually one for eavesdropping, he is supposed to gather information, so he discreetly inches a little closer to them and listens.
“Don’t you think we should increase the number of guards around His Royal Highness?” one of the two says. “It’s pretty obvious that the Second Prince is dangerous.”
“Keep your voice down,” the other hisses, looking around nervously, but thankfully not spotting Virgil. “He’s still part of the Royal Family, you know. You can’t just badmouth him.”
“I’m not badmouthing him! On the contrary, I think he’s an excellent fighter. He kicked our asses every time he came by. Which is exactly why I think we need more security around the place.”
“You’re implying that the Second Prince could attack the Crown Prince, what do you call that if not badmouthing!”
“Everyone knows he went insane, it’s not like I’m saying something scandalous.”
“Would you shut up already!” Having had enough of his friend’s loud mouth, the second knight pulls the first further away, urging him to drop the topic. Virgil doesn’t follow them, he’s heard enough.
~~~
Patton’s back is starting to ache as he sits behind ‘his’ desk and goes over paper after paper. Roman had been right, if he concentrates enough, he can tell what they are for and how he should deal with them but it’s still a bit much which is why he left his body on autopilot for a little while. He hadn’t been able to find any useful information in any of the papers anyway.
“Would you like some tea, my Lord?” Patton startles, looking over to the servant that had appeared at his desk while he had been lost in thought.
“Yes. That would be delightful,” he says after a moment. His mouth doesn’t let him say thank you, but he hopes his appreciation still comes across. From her smile, he guesses she understood his intentions well enough.
“Shall I fetch some pastries as well?”
“I need to keep my hands clean, I’m afraid.”
“Oh my, of course. My apologies.” She bows, her face red.
“It’s quite alright. I simply have more work to go through in the King’s absence and cannot take the time for an extended snack break.”
“I understand. It’s truly a shame.” Her utterance makes Patton pause.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, my apologies. Again. I simply meant that if the Prince’s former advisor hadn’t turned out like that, he might have been able to take some work off you. But considering what became of him, it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get access to the important paperwork my Lord is dealing with.”
“…Right.” Patton has no idea what – or who for that matter – she is talking about, but he doesn’t seem to be allowed to ask her more because he dismisses her a short moment after. He ponders her words as his body goes back to grinding through the paperwork.
~~~
Roman doesn’t like the noble he’s currently having tea with. A marquess had asked him for an audience regarding a business venture he wanted to start that needs royal approval. The man had talked his ear off for the better part of an hour now and done his best to suck up to Roman in any way he could. The prince had endured him with a smile but is quickly reaching the end of his patience.
“Marquess,” he cuts in as the noble takes a moment to breathe. “I’m afraid I do not have more time to spend with you but if you leave your proposal with my butler, I will be sure to look your venture over again at the earliest convenience.”
“Of course, of course. I am incredibly grateful that Your Royal Highness took time out of your busy schedule to meet with me.” He passes the stack of papers he brought to the butler Roman had indicated and watches him leave before leaning a bit closer. “I hope I am not overstepping, my Prince, but I noticed you still haven’t replaced your former advisor.”
Roman stiffens. He’s not sure why but the mention of said former advisor invokes a deep anger in him and he stands sharply.
“You best be on your way now, Marquess.”
“My apologies, Your Royal Highness.” The man quickly stands and bows deeply but opens his mouth again a moment later. “I was just thinking about my nephew, he is about to graduate the Royal Institute, at the top of his class no less. He’s a bright and loyal man, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed if you were to give him a chance. He certainly would not dare betray you like your last one did.”
Roman grits his teeth as he stares at the nobleman who smiles innocently at him. “Until next time, Marquess.” Thankfully, the other’s smile drops as he seems to realize that he might have said too much, and he hurries away after one last bow. Despite being left alone in the room, Roman can’t help but bring down his fist on the table, making the now empty teacups rattle.
~~~
“That’s… not much,” Patton sighs after all three of them finished sharing what they had learned over the day. Roman huffs, sinking down into the red and golden couch he had inspected for the first time that morning. Eating dinner together hadn’t worked out, so instead, Roman had ordered Patton and Virgil to his private quarters afterwards. Now they are gathered around his fireplace, still lost on how to proceed.
“It’s something,” Virgil mutters, sitting on the backrest of one of the armchairs. “We know that the Second Prince stands in opposition to Roman and has only recently fallen out of favor with the knights at least. And then there’s that former advisor that was kicked to the curb or something, which also seems to have happened recently. Could be that the two incidents are related.”
Roman stares at him. “When did you become Sherlock?”
“Shut up, princey. I was just summarizing what we already said.”
“Don’t talk bad about yourself!”
“Sorry, Pat.”
“Anyway!” Roman says, loudly, to get the attention back on him. “We still don’t know enough to really tell what’s going on.”
“No shit.”
“So,” he continues, ignoring Virgil’s comment, “I think we have no choice but to continue playing along until one of us figures out more.”
“I wish Logan were here, he’d know what to do,” Patton mumbles. Roman grabs his hand and pulls him in the seat next to him, offering a hug that the other gladly accepts.
“We’ll find him, I’m sure. For now, we’ll do what we can on our own.”
“Yeah…”
Neither of them sound quite convinced themselves and Virgil watches them worriedly. Being stuck not knowing anything is going to get to them sooner or later.
“I’m on patrol tomorrow. Maybe I’ll come across something then.” Roman nods in acknowledgement of his words but doesn’t respond and they all fall into silence for a bit.
“We should probably go to bed,” Patton eventually speaks up, separating himself from Roman. “You know how important a proper sleep schedule is! Well, at least according to Logan.”
“You’re right! Worrying won’t get us anywhere and if we’re well rested, I’m sure we can figure out more tomorrow then if we remain tired.” Roman stands, trying to force more confidence into his words than he’s feeling, and it manages to get a quick smile on Virgil’s lips.
“You’re gonna need your beauty sleep, that’s for sure. Otherwise the people might just decide they want another prince after all.”
“How dare you tease me in my own home! Out with you, this instant!”
Their bickering gets Patton to laugh and soon all three of them are giggling.
“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” Patton smiles once he’s calmed down a bit. “I don’t know what I would have done all on my own.”
“Yes, I’m glad you’re here, too,” Roman agrees. “I’m sure together we’ll figure out what to do.”
“I guess it’s better than being alone,” Virgil shrugs and Roman lightly hits him in the shoulder.
“Just say you love us, you dork.”
“As if.”
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nova-they-exist-yup · 9 months
Note
Uhhh idk I think tumblr may have eated my last ask. So I'm resending.
Anyways, you mentioned how Roman had his opinion of Mind being influenced by Heart. What are the other four sides' perceptions of Heart do you think? What effects does his... behaviour have on them?
Also Soul and Mind probably either don't trust Patton or think he's way nicer than Heart lol. Soul wants to protect him in a potentially self-destructive way since he's someone else's feelings by asking him to leave them all alone, whilst Mind might respect him more cos he's known as morality. Those are my thoughts at least. Do you have any?
I feel bad for not replying to this one even tho it’s a resend so I’m gonna answer some of the additional questions here too-
Tbh you do make a good point, Mind probably would respect him more because he’s Morality, but the resemblance of his role and Heart’s just triggers something in Mind.
Which also does remind me…
When I first made this AU, I thought it’d be neat that Logan would be a robot. (I put this into my design for him but I may or may not scrap it, we’ll see.) I also headcanon that Mind has mechanical prosthetic hands, and his voice modulator is also machinery. You know what that means????
Yup that’s right Mind’s jealous!!! He thinks he should be more robotic, considering that he’s a broader concept that Logan and he’s a robot. Besides, his whole insecurity of needing to be more synthetic is just dksgdjdbsjdhsjdh. It’s part of my interpretation of him that I love and you cannot stop me from including this in the AU.
Now to your first additional question:
Also, on a scale from the most to least convinced of Heart’s manipulation, it goes: Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Remus, Janus. I put Roman at the top because he does NOT trust Janus at all, who is the main one who is saying that he’s manipulating everyone. Patton views him as a son, and he trusts what people say, but yet again, he does trust Janus. Logan is below him because I feel he does notice the signs of manipulation, but he doesn’t think it’ll have any lasting consequences. Virgil is next because he was already anxious meeting Heart, and then being given proof of him being not as good as he seems threw him off. He does think Heart can change though (or at least hopes). Remus is next because he trusts Janus a lot, and he’s close with Soul who knows for a fact that Heart lies and manipulates. So he’s like “ah. I see. Welp time to give him a beating” and then comes up with cruel pranks bc he thinks Heart deserves them. Janus catches up to all the manipulation, being Deceit and all. And he also has a good enough relationship with Soul to know about Heart’s tendency to manipulate. AND he’s also close enough with Mind to get a view from his perspective, as Heart’s enemy.
When/If Heart has an outburst like he did in RoE, then shit would go DOWN.
Firstly, Logan, Virgil, Remus, and Janus would have their suspicions proved and would trust him far less than before. Logan and Virgil would still have hope, but Remus and Janus would not. Roman would have an “Are we the bad guys?” moment while Patton freaks out and lies to himself to convince himself that Heart is more than that, and that he is truly good. This would also cause Janus and Patton to argue, with Janus telling Patton to admit the facts and Patton telling Janus that Heart is more than a man who hurts people. Patton’s relationship with Mind would falter more as well.
So… yeah. Thanks for all the questions!
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loganisanobody · 9 months
Text
You know what I want to see?
Someone else's sides.
Specifically, someone like Thomas' parents.
I want to see the sides be able to see them somehow. Logic talk to logic, deceit to deceit, etc.
I want them to see that they aren't alone. Thomas, as a "Man", is not an island. They don't have to figure everything out themselves.
And then I want them to look at each other. And realize that maybe each one of them does have good ideas. That maybe each of them has a part to play.
I'm not saying they all agree. As someone else pointed out, that's not their role. They are different sides with different purposes and thus different biases. But they can learn to get along, and Thomas can learn to moderate the arguments - arguments meant to reach a goal, not arguments being hostile anymore.
And I want all of them to realize that they're not going to be their perfect aspect. Thomas doesn't know everything, so neither do Janus nor Logan. Thomas can't think of every possible idea, neither can Roman nor Remus.
I want them to be heard, but also to listen. Learn. Sacrifice biases because they care for each other and not just Thomas (like we saw Virgil do for Roman).
And I'm not saying they'll be perfect at it. I'm not saying that Thomas' parents would be perfect at it, either.
I'm learning myself that in absolutely everything, there is balance, and that life's main lesson is learning to balance.
So there will be inbalances, pulls in a certain direction, aggression and hurt leaking into arguments.
But I want the Sides to realize they're not the most important side, and if there is a most important side, it's because they're doing it wrong.
And just. I want them to be happy.
Janus, Deceit, is sad, because he thinks he sees all the lies in society in the ways we make ourselves momentarily happy. He's sad because he thinks everything is for nothing, hope is for nothing, because the bad part is coming and he thinks he's the only one preparing for it.
We know Logan is sad, because he feels ignored and shut down.
We know Patton is sad, because he feels so much pressure to be everything Thomas needs.
We know Roman is sad, because he feels like a failure.
Virgil and Remus... we don't actually know if they're sad. Remus seems happy enough when we see him, but I think it's an act, at least partially. Virgil may be the happiest of them, because we've had his arc and he's feeling some sense of peace in his role. But I do know he cares deeply for Thomas and the other Sides, and if he's happy right now, it's because he's unaware of just how much they're hurting.
Thomas. Thomas is... lost. Because he hasn't learned to listen, and to moderate, and to balance.
And I think I'm kind of rambling now. But I finally made myself watch the "Into the Unknown" video from 9 months ago yesterday, and I just have a lot of feelings.
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mimssides · 1 year
Text
Lost in the Library: Part 1/2
Summary: The twins had the Imagination. Logan had the Library. No side truly knew about it but him. They didn't need to know about it; if they didn't know about it they wouldn't be tempted to enter.
Not that Logan was tempted to enter either. He hadn't gone to one of the bi-weekly check-ups lately but it wasn't like he needed some time off from the stressful eventful past few days. Weeks. Months.
No Logan wasn't in need for rest at all.
___
Part 2 | Read on AO3 | Masterpost | Taglist
A little gift for my dearest @lost-in-thought-20
___
Did it matter really? This wasn’t so much worse than the other things that had gone wrong lately. No, Logan could deal with this. He had dealt with it in fact. The others didn’t even ask him about his interaction with Remus. They just were talking with each other and being passive-aggressive.
Quietly Logan opened the door to his room and closed it just as quietly behind him. Not that they would have noticed if he had slammed it shut. They didn’t notice very much about him these days, a voice in Logan’s head insisted. Logan was too tired to argue with it and simply decided to ignore it. He hadn’t time for this. He needed to sleep.
And to sleep, he went. Through the open door, he walked along the many shelves and warm chandeliers. Walked over the wooden floor as his shoes clacked on the boards and stopped in front of his favourite armchair. The old umbrella lamp with the green shade flickered in its trusty pattern and Logan blinked at it. The world was going out of focus. His cheeks were wet. The lights grew dimmer.
There was an embrace. It took him gently. It took him safely. And he let it take him willingly.
The Library came to life. It had lain awake but untouched for months now. Had waited for its master to come and give it his bi-weekly check-up. But he hadn’t come and the Library has gotten worried. It could sense that its master wasn’t doing well. That he was lying to himself. That he was telling himself that he had no problem with what was happening around him.
No problem at all dealing with Remus and the intrusive thoughts and the deafening questions of morality drowning out of Patton’s room.
No problem at all to sit down and casually watch Frozen while Janus’ words on the stand replayed in his head.
No problem at all, when his words got cut in half, and he was actively voted out and physically dragged off frame.
No problem at all, when a guy sat down in the food court and got more attention than Thomas’s breakfast in the last couple of weeks.
No problem at all, when Remus made Thomas hallucinate several times, making him believe he was unlovable, unsafe, and insignificant.
No problem at all, when he lost his temper.
No problem at all, when none of the others asked him if he was alright when they stood outside and did nothing as Thomas flirted with a man who maybe was sweet and nice but not an alternative to clean the goddamn floor.
But the Library knew better. And it would make its master happy again.
___
A yawn broke the silence in the kitchen. It had been a long day and Patton couldn’t bring himself to keep his exhaustion to himself. It’s been a few really long days lately and today was no different.
Also, the mess in Thomas’ flat was starting to weigh Patton down. Quietly he lifted the tea kettle onto the heating station as his thought drifted further. He hoped that they soon could get to Logan’s cleaning agenda and get the flat in order again. Maybe he would have to speak with Janus about it. Make a little self-care plan, right? Taking care of ones living conditions was self-care in a way, wasn’t it? And with Janus’ help, he would have an easier time talking the others into it. At least he hoped so and ignored how Roman and Virgil had treated him and Janus lately.
Eventually, it would turn out alright. He was sure of it. The kettle beeped and Patton carefully lifted it from the heating station and poured the water into his favourite mug. With a hum he threw in the little tea bag he forgot to put in beforehand and eventually walked over to the cutlery drawer to get a spoon and the sugar from the counter. With lazy steps, he walked back to the tea kettle and put five spoons of sugar into his cup. The spoon made a few clinging noises as he stirred his tea for a bit and the noises made him feel rather peaceful. The mundane nature of it made his heart pleasantly heavy and before he realized it the had lost grip on the spoon. It clinked unhappily and he clumsily grabbed it again and took it out of the cup. But he hadn’t gripped it properly and it slipped from his fingers and-
It remained standing still in the air? Patton blinked. What? Before he could start to even think about grabbing it, it suddenly fell to the floor with a cartoonish “pfiuuuuu” noise.
Baffled Patton looked down at the spoon. Not that the spoon was the weird thing here. At least he didn’t believe so? Were all the spoons from the drawer like this now? Before Patton could go to the drawer and take out all the spoons to throw them on the floor, he stopped himself and realized that something felt off. His gut jumped towards accusing Remus of doing something, but his heart and mind stepped in just as fast and pointed out: “It’s too harmless to be Remus’ doing.” “He might have no “rhyme or reason” to his actions, but this isn’t something that matches his usual schemes or patterns.”
Rattled Patton pressed his hands over his chest and stared right ahead without seeing the trowel he was glaring down. It was in the air. It was in the quiet. It was taking over the Mindscape. It was clear, unapologetic, beyond good and evil.
A couple of clacking footfalls ripped Patton out of his thoughts. He turned around and saw Janus and Virgil enter the kitchen. That was a bad combination and he immediately let his hands fall to his side.
“You wouldn’t know what this nonsense is about, would you, dear Patton?” Janus asked without any prompting
Before Virgil could hiss at Janus or Patton could ask what he meant, the deceptive side grabbed his hat as it sprouted two little black wings and tried to fly off his head. Patton squeaked in surprise and Virgil just gaped at the hat until the feathers suddenly dissipated and Janus slowly took his hands off his head as a slight flush dusted his cheeks.
Usually, Patton would have cooed at Janus’ fluster, but the situation had turned far too odd very quickly for even him to try and make jokes about it. So instead, he directed his attention to Virgil and asked: “And you came downstairs for a similar reason?”
Taken aback Virgil stuttered for a second. He then caught himself again and his eyes flitted from Janus back to Patton a few times before he took a short breath and settled to answer.
“I – uh, I turned the light switch on my bed table lamp off and – and the light didn’t turn off? But somehow my laptop shut down instead? And when I turned the same switch back on the faucet in my bathroom suddenly turned on? I don’t know what kind of fuckery that is but it fucked with my head and I decided to not fuck with it any longer and come down to see what is going on?”
Patton felt a sharp pain in his temple and a heavy ball grew in the pit of his stomach. It was here and it got clearer by the second what it was. Patton could grasp it and the air was stuck in his lungs.
A loud flop noise came from the living room and the three of them spun around to see what was happening. After only a few frantic steps into the living room they got a view of Remus and Roman tangled on the floor. Roman shot up with a loud grunt and stood on Remus’ stomach. The latter moaned and giggled at the pain and only sat up as Roman patted the grim and slime off his costume.
“Alright, do I want to ask what even is wrong with you two?” Virgil asked.
“NO!” Roman shouted angrily. “YES!” Remus yelled elated.
Immediately Roman started glaring at and scolding Remus, who simply shimmied his shoulders and slowly got up with one quick remark after the other. Admittedly, Patton had to say that that was rather normal for the two of them. Still, he was worried as he saw how frazzled Roman looked and how Remus seemed to shake slightly all over. And the strangeness was still there and bugging Patton more and more. He didn’t know what to do about it. Yet he had to act now, as the twins got more and more into their fight and the longer this went on the harder it would be to break them up later.
So, Patton got in between them and pushed both of them away from the other as he cried: “Boys! Stop it!”
Roman just stopped and Remus switched to giggling again. He was still shaking and something in Roman’s look upset Patton as well.
“Strange things have been happening. Has either of you noticed something unordinary as well? If so it’s the perfect moment to share that with us,” Patton asked them.
“Nah,” Remus said lightly. “Yes,” Roman said guiltily.
The focus shifted to Roman immediately. Patton spotted sweat above his brows and a little twitch in his right ring finger. His gaze had drifted to the floor and if Patton was looking closely enough he saw a light sway to his posture.
Janus passed by him and stood at Roman’s side. With an unusual gentleness, he asked him: “Do you need to sit down? We don’-”
“I can’t teleport without teleporting Remus too. We- I don’t know what’s wrong but our powers are merging and I can’t control it, and the whole Mindscape is getting more and more messed up as we speak and I don’t think - I - I most likely - I maybe - I don’t hope I’m the reason for- I didn’t - I don’t mean to do this! I don’t know what is going on!”
Patton was sure that Roman would have gone on with his panic spiral had Virgil not shot at him and covered his mouth before he started to count down his breaths. Patton took it upon himself to pull Janus away so they wouldn’t crowd Roman too much and kept an eye on Remus who was looking a bit pale and unamused. He might have wobbled more and Janus guided him to the dining table to sit down.
A few short minutes filled with staggered breathing and misplaced giggles were all that filled the air between them. Janus’ hat grew wings again at some point but he could hold it down with a second pair of arms as the light flickered ominously in the living room.
A gulp. Roman had quieted down and Remus looked a little less pale. A shiver ran up Patton’s spine and he knew what he had to say.
“Whatever this is,” Patton said and the light flickered instantly, “it has to do with Logan. Something is wrong and I can feel his energy at the core of it.”
The other four looked at him for a moment. Virgil broke off first and stared conflicted to the floor as Roman hugged his upper arms and swayed back and forth to calm himself. Remus’ face was blank and Janus simply pressed his lips into a thin line before he conceded: “I cannot deny that what we all feel right now agrees with your observation but that doesn’t offer us any next point of action. I - I don’t think I can even locate Logan in the Mindscape right now.”
At that phrase, Janus cut himself off as panic shot through the room. Purple flickers rushed through the air like bouts of electricity. Both twins shot towards Virgil and held him by the wrists with Janus mumbling a calming mantra like a spell in the background. Eventually, it worked and the purple energy disappeared.
Janus’ hat tried to fly away once more. This time Remus caught it and Virgil cursed under his breath as he stared at the wicked thing, defying all logic.
“Oh no.”
Roman’s legs worked before he could truly think about it. At the bottom of the stairs though, he stopped. If it was true, if this was what he feared then he didn’t know how to fix it.
“Oh fuck,” Roman mumbled again and pressed his hand over his mouth.
It took everything for him to keep his whole body from shaking. Something began to glimmer in the edge of his vision.
___
“I apologize for keeping this meeting short but I have to go to my meeting with Thomas now.”
“It’s just some cleaning. You don’t have to make it sound like it’s the most important thing in the world.”
Didn’t pay attention. Didn’t see him flinch. Didn’t question why he didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make you understand how important the cleaning actually was for Thomas. Or for him.
He left. Without a word.
___
A book sat on top of the couch lean. It was black and read in golden cursive letters: “The End Is Neigh.”
Roman turned on the balls of his feet. Virgil and Patton had darted in his direction, Remus stood and Janus pressed his hat against his chest. They were still close enough. With the tiniest shred of magic he could produce safely, a long red fabric rope fell from the ceiling between all of them.
“HOLD ON AND DON’T LET GO!” Roman yelled frantically gripping the end of the red rope.
Different voices yelled over each other but it didn’t matter. Roman felt the floor grab his feet. The walls and ceiling folded and fell and grappled him. His fingers ached, his stomach turned but he held on.
He held on as the world turned dark. The Mindscape bent and snapped and reformed and it was as if Roman’s bones were broken and glued back together. As if he was simply a toy which could be thrown away and rebuilt at a whim.
He was still holding on. It screamed. He screamed? No. Yes. He screamed. But It screamed too. He could hear it and there was this sensation in his chest. It was as if he was stabbed through the chest, pierced with a thick wooden stick, splinters turning red and soaking out the moisture of the red liquid, as he was bleeding out slowly and without any hope of being rescued.
“Why can’t it be me for once?”
A shout lodged itself out of Roman’s throat and he finally managed to breathe in air again. He opened his eyes and looked around. They were in a mall. It looked a lot like the one where he had met Nico but the shadows were darker and the trash can Thomas had walked into was a lot bigger. Also, there were a lot of people in suits standing in line for CarrotKings.
Roman’s hand was pulled. Shocked he looked down. He was sitting on the floor. He had held onto the red rope and he could see the others’ hands holding onto it too. Breathing heavily he looked at Patton who was next to him. He had wrapped the red rope around his wrist and looked around trembling. He hadn’t noticed yet that Roman was staring at him.
Quickly Roman’s eyes darted off of him and went further towards Virgil who was sitting on the floor, legs pressed against his chest and face hidden against his knees. He was rocking back and forth, both hands clutched over his legs and gripping the red rope steadily.
Next to him, he saw Janus who was looking directly at Roman. He was holding a catatonic Remus by the shoulder and gripped the rope with his lowest pairs of arms. The hat was gone.
Roman cleared his throat. Patton swirled around and pulled him in a hug. Roman let him do so and shimmied them both closer to the others as Janus followed, by pulling Remus and himself towards Virgil. The five were now huddled in a narrow circle, Janus nervously wrapping the end of the rope around Remus who had only stayed with them because he had managed to grab him in time. Looking over his shoulders Roman made sure that nothing was happening around them right away and then reached out to Remus.
With a flinch, Remus came out of his catatonic state and instinctually grabbed Roman’s hand on his shoulder. He growled and looked animosely towards anything around them until his frenzied eyes landed back on Roman.
“Explain. Now.”
Roman’s breath hitched. But he swallowed his fear down and gently pulled away from Patton and motioned for Patton to make sure Virgil didn’t slip any further into his panic spiral.
“I’m not sure but I think-” Roman began but paused to look around and continued in a whisper, “that we’re in the Library. It’s- I wouldn’t know of it if Logan hadn’t told me back when we first sunk into Virgil’s room. He called me aside and asked for a favour and-”
Someone passed close by them. They all turned their heads to see a version of Nico walk past and sit down at a table and started working on his laptop. It was the first thing Virgil could take note of after glimpsing away from his knees. The buttons and stickers were wrong, it was now a sticker from Caroline and the pride button was heart-shaped. Also, Nico had come to the food court after Thomas had sat down and Thomas wasn’t here yet. Right? Or was he there before them and he had mixed it up?
“He asked me to hide the door from Thomas if we ever got to go into his room,” Roman finished shakily.
Janus gaped at Roman and Remus hissed quietly: “Why the flying fuck would you keep that to yourself?! What the motherbitch is he keeping in here?!”
“He didn’t say anything about dangerous stuff!” Roman stammered. “He said that it acts like a memory bank mostly and that he does check-ups weekly but that it would be a dangerous thing for Thomas to go into because of information overload and because it’s so closely connected to the Subconscious. Like the Imagination. Which we don’t want Thomas to go into either so I felt like was a reasonable request at the time!”
“And you didn’t go and check it out? You just blindly believed him??”
“No! I know how sick Logan gets when he enters the Imagination so I decided I’m not going to make myself sick by coming here! It seemed like a really stupid idea, sorry for not wanting to hu-”
“GUYS!” Virgil broke them off and pointed towards the entrance of the food court. “Shut up. Watch.”
And at the entrance of the food court, they saw Thomas walk inside. And to their surprise, Logan walked behind him. He talked to him but Thomas didn’t seem to pay much attention to it, he had already spotted Nico.
“I understand that this person has caught your interest-”
“Don’t be such a downer, teach.”
Why could they hear their conversation so clearly?
Logan cleared his throat and Thomas sat down at a table, Logan standing next to him and looking at the man in question.
“I do not intend to be a figurative downer, Thomas. I simply try to keep you on task and I worry that you are getting too infuriated by this stranger. We haven’t had a proper talk with them yet. I worry that you set yourself up for disappointment with all the expectations you figuratively put on this person's shoulders”
“Oh, you worry about me? I thought you didn’t have any emotions? Isn’t that a contradiction, Lo? Are you losing your edge?”
A purple hue took over as Thomas spoke.
“Thomas-”
“Don’t tell me what to feel! I can’t control my emotions! I get to do what feels good and makes me feel less pathetic! You can’t possibly understand what it is like to be me!”
Red filtered the light now and Logan walked after Thomas as the man stood up and walked directly towards Nico now.
“But I am part of you, Thomas!” Logan tried to say and tried to overtake Thomas but didn’t manage to get in front of him. “I only ask of you to - to consider that a stranger is not able to give you self-worth or the security you hope to achieve. Which sounds discouraging but-”
Thomas turned, his face was distorted and red and purple shone in his eyes as he shouted at Logan: “Stop bothering me!”
Logan inhaled softly and with his breath, the room changed. Thomas’ form changed and suddenly it wasn’t Thomas anymore but Patton. The aggression melted into disappointment and sadness. The mall became Patton’s soft-looking room, knickknacks and pictures all included. Maybe it looked a little dustier. A little less warm and gentle but worn down.
“I’m sure you mean well Logan,” the Patton said and Logan opened his mouth but kept quiet as he continued, “but I can’t just move on. I can’t let Thomas move on right now.”
“I - I don’t understand,” Logan said apparently not bothered at all that the scene had changed.
“Of course, you don’t. You’re not made to understand feelings.”
The five sides stared at the fake Patton, the real Patton pressing his hand over his mouth as Logan nodded curtly and stiffened up.
“I know it is not my function to understand feelings,” Logan said quietly, “but I might benefit from understanding it better. It would most likely also help Thomas if I knew-”
“Logan, can you stop?”
The world shook as Logan closed his eyes. Everything turned and twirled and Virgil was about to hurl as suddenly everything was still again and they sat in a dark room looking up to a lit stage Logan stood on it, in front him a fake Janus. The light was a gentle yellow but so, so bright on him.
“No, please,” Logan begged.
The Janus stepped forth. He eyed him with slight amusement before his smile dropped and he looked away easily disregarding his presence. A comedically long shepherd’s hook shot out from the dark. It caught Logan around the neck and he pulled at it but didn’t manage to get out of it. He began to struggle, kick his legs around, and shake his head but it did nothing. Slowly he got sucked into the dark.
Virgil stood. He was about to move as fake Janus’ voice boomed: “I’m afraid this is a benched trial for you.”
They were in Thomas’s living room. There were clocks all over the walls. They clicked and clacked and none of them was ticking at the same time. The lighting was green and flickery. Logan sat on the floor. A long distorted version of Remus stood before him. Green eyes stared down at him with a wide humourless grin plastered all over his face.
“How’s that been going for you? Logie? Huh? How’s that been working out for you?” the Remus taunted him.
Logan was trembling but he tried to stand up only for the world to tilt and him to fall back down on his behind.
“I- I don’t understand. I-”
“What is not to understand, smart boy?” the Remus laughed and all five sides froze at the cold sound of it. “You and I, me and you, we are the same!”
“N-no!”
The Remus laughed over Logan’s desperation but it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t with a grain of salt. It was dead-serious.
“Roman has the emo. Patton has the snake. You don’t have me. You decided that I’m not good enough for you. You decided that you need to be alone and that’s what you’re gonna be. You’ll be alone. You don’t fit. You don’t match with the rest of them! You don’t matter to Thomas!”
The lenses of Logan’s glasses cracked. With it, the very world cracked.
“no”
“I might be a tumour” - “You’re not. You fulfil” - “Silence nerd! But they won’t cut me out because they know my brother will break if I’m gone. You will be replaced. You will be thrown away. You’re useless.”
“I just wanted to help,” Logan said through a quiet, quiet sob.
“They don’t want your help, Logan. They never wanted you.”
Logan’s hands were grappling his own shoulders as his body shook with pain and tears. Mortified the others watched as the Remus crouched down in front of him, as the world tilted and shook, all the clocks suddenly ticking in the same tempo.
A whisper low and steady, almost soft rang through the air, the matter, the time: “Time’s up. You finally get it. They’ll never stop ignoring you.”
The world broke. Suddenly there was only white. No loud crash or world-ending scream. Space hadn’t folded in on itself or ripped apart. Everything was just gone and there was only white.
Logan wasn’t there anymore. Nothing was there anymore. It didn’t make a sound when the twins slumped in on themselves and fell to the floor. The floor that wasn’t there but they were still standing on it.
“Take them before they get separated from us!” Virgil yelped.
Patton grabbed Roman and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as Janus threw Remus on his back like a backpack. Both groaned weakly and Virgil stared at the red rope that was still connecting all of them together.
“We need to find Logan,” Virgil gulped.
Patton nodded shakily and Janus pressed himself against Virgil’s side as he glimpsed around.
“Not to be all negative,” the deceitful facet said and looked to the other too, “I still have very little clue of what this actually is. Or what we just have witnessed.”
Patton pressed against Virgil’s other side and the anxious trait took both of them by the hand as he got bound himself into the rope. He eyed the white nothing around him, spotting a few geometrical shapes from time to time, just like in the Spongebob episode where Squidward was shot into the future.
“I know it wasn’t the real Logan,” Patton said. “I can feel the difference, and while the things he said and experienced definitely came from him, that body was not his. This was some weird projection and-”
A loud groan from Roman let Patton flinch and Virgil and Janus stared at the unmoving back on Patton’s shoulder.
“Nightmare.”
Roman coughed and Remus winced a little. Patton tried to shoo him to calm down but Roman moved more and Patton could feel how he grabbed the hem of his shirt and held onto it as he forced more words out of his throat.
“All ... messed up ... because ... sleeping...”
He went slack again. Gently Patton rubbed Roman’s back and he exchanged a look with Virgil and Janus. Did they get it? Did they understand? He didn’t-
The three of them inhaled sharply. Virgil turned to look into the white. The geometrical shapes were still there.
“I’m gonna call for the Library,” Virgil said lowly.
He felt Janus’ hand squeeze his and he looked at him.
“Are you sure this is safe?”
Virgil snorted and looked straight ahead: “No, but it’s not like we have a choice. Let’s hope this works a little bit like the Imagination and it will listen to us when we ask nicely enough.”
Virgil closed his eyes and steadied his feet on the ground. Patton and Janus were still holding his hands. The red rope was still connecting all five of them. Now they only needed to find Logan and hold onto him too.
“Library!” Virgil called with his tempest tongue. “Please bring us to Logan! We want to - No, we need to talk to him about what we just saw and we also need to apologize!”
The air felt crisper. There were little distortions in the air and Virgil could feel a pressure in his chest. Moreso a pull in his mind took over. His hands grabbed tighter around Patton and Janus’s and the air began to flicker.
“are you sure? no harm to the master? why would i trust? what if you hurt him more?”
Well, shit. How would one argue with a Library? Logan’s Library, Virgil reminded himself. It was, in a way, Logan he had to convince.
“If we do, you can punish me. Fucking god knows that I deserve it for the shit I’ve given him.”
“Virgil!” both Patton and Janus screamed but a clap like thunder boomed through the empty space.
Just before them, a box of glass appeared. Or no, it became visible to them, they realized. In it lay Logan. He was still, his back on the hard glass, wearing his polo shirt, tie, jeans, and even his shoes. He looked cold and sterile.
Patton whimpered at the sight. Janus sunk to his knees and sat Remus down as his body began to tremble with the overwhelming effort.
Virgil just stared at Logan. Just stared. Let the words of dream Thomas go through his mind and the cruelty that it had thrown at Logan. This was what Logan heard them say all the time. This was how the world appeared to him.
“Fuck teach,” Virgil mumbled and sunk to his knees next to Janus, “That’s some really serious mental distortions you have there. Like, what the fuck did we do to you to make you like this?”
There was no voice. But there was humming. The realm hummed. Energy was pushed onto them. The twins moved lightly and eventually, Janus pulled Remus into a sitting position next to him until his blinking wasn’t as synchronous anymore. On the other side of the rope, Roman woke up too and slowly was let down from Patton’s shoulder. He leaned against the moral side, trying to understand what was going on.
Nothing made a sound for a long, long time. The humming got stronger and they felt that soon the favour of the Library would turn sour.
“That’s the real one daddy-o?”
Remus’ voice was hoarse and weak. He looked like the living death. But Patton simply told him that it was the real Logan.
“Okay.”
Remus pulled forth from Janus. On his knees, he pushed himself towards the glass box and stopped. Carefully he let his hands fall on the pane and eyed the side inside for a moment.
“We’re very much not the same,” Remus began. “It’s an easy mistake to make, but we’re not. Not in the ways you believe at least. We’re not - not unimportant. We’re not to be swept away and to be ignored.”
Slowly and steadily Remus let his hand wander over the glass directly above Logan’s neck.
“We’re the same in the sense that we keep the Mindscape intact. Me and prissy fill the nothing here with colour and life. You are the whole fucking skeleton beneath it. The structure and we’re the matter. But unlike bitch perfect, we seem to be more of a pain in the butt when we’re around sometimes. We don’t confront the topics we care about in a way that Thomas appreciates. That Patton appreciates. We can be uncomfortable and unlike Virgil, who’s the same we’re not getting a redemption arc; You’re already good and redemption isn’t for the goodie two shoes; Redemption is not for what I am. I’m uncomfortable, I’m annoying, I’m depressing and a symptom. But not bad. And redemption is only for the bad who become good.”
A shiver ran through Remus’ being and he let his forehead rest against the glass.
“So in that sense we’re similar, I guess. Talking all about redemption and that crap reminded me of what I wanted to say to you first actually. I - I’m not sorry for what I am. Life and you lot made me this way. So, I’m not sorry for giving Thomas a hard time. I don’t think I could have stopped if I wanted to, to be honest.”
A wet drop rolled down the edge of the glass casket. A second one followed and a clear and soft pling rang through the Library.
“But I’m sorry for not checking in on you afterwards. I’m sorry for not having Janny-boy go look after you and leave you alone in your misery. After all, from all of them, I’d be the one to understand your situation best, wouldn’t you think so too?”
The white flickered and under it shone huge shelves filled up with books to the top row. The ground was filled with old brown pine boards. The sound of gas lamps burning broke on and off through the flickering.
Steps were swallowed by the white but clacked clearly on the wooden floor when it shone through. The white began to sparkle a little bit and a hand with red nail polish was raised towards the air.
“Our greatest appreciation goes to you, o grand Library.”
With a strong grip, Roman held the red rope in his right and held his left hand open waiting.
“You were kind enough to give us a chance to see our mistakes and realize what penance is due. We were cruel and unkind to your Master and much has to be done to remedy our mistakes. I swear that I will do all in my might to my part and more, if necessary.”
He stood to the head side of the glass casket as Remus had shimmied to the feet. Both held the ends of the red rope down on the glass.
“I ask of you now,” Roman said loudly as his voice broke, “to let me cut him out of here and grant us your blessing to leave. For we know you care and coddle your master to the best of your abilities, but it is our hands that have forsaken him and need to mend and soothe him back to health. So, please, let me take my sword and end this?”
And in Roman’s left shone the trusty sword. A single glance Roman spared to the three sides holding onto the middle of the rope, watching him with unsettled surprise, before sitting for a second on Remus’ determinate face.
He let the fear show for a second in his eyes and then his attention fell to Logan’s unmoving form. With an easy movement of his wrist, the sword turned around in his hand and Roman gripped the handle with his right one as well as he raised it above his head.
“Here we go teach,” Roman muttered and rammed his sword down onto the casked which shattered into a million pieces as the white of the realm around them did.
___
@vexelore
@exhaustedfander
@alexisrealgay
@wolfs-feder
@just-a-neoclassical-painting
@winter-jay-official
@a-ghostlight-for-roman
@mychemically-imbalanced-romance
@whattheremus
@regalredrose
@spellingwillbethedeathofme
@sarenicide
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Text
To Make a Heaven of Hell (3/?)
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Virgil meets (almost) everyone and learns a bit about the usual goings on at the Hellp Desk.
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| <- Previous | First | Next -> |
Chapter warnings: None I can think of
Notes:
I don't actually have a plan as for where this story is supposed to go, lol. Just a few plot points. we're trying our best with what we have right now, though I'm currently attempting to focus a little more on my Big Bang fic.
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"Yeah, sure, go ahead" Virgil answered, glancing around again, feeling a little more confident now. How was everyone he'd met so far so nice? Would they all be like that, once Lily introduced him?
"Awesome, so as you look around," Lily said, gesturing behind her, first to a pair of demons who seemed to be bickering over what looked like… a packet of girl scout cookies? "That's Bel - Beleth - and Greg, Bel is the tall one with wings, Greg is the red one." 
Virgil nodded as he took them in, they were both very tall, but the one with wings - Bel - turned to look over when Lily spoke.
"Hey Lils, what's going on? I heard my name?" Bel said, Lily chucked. 
"We've got a new kid," Lily answered, Bel's face seemed to light up as he glanced around and Virgil wasn't sure he'd ever be able to picture such a terrifyingly built demon looking so excited.
"Who? Can I meet them?" 
"Hi," Virgil said, waving his fingers, "I think that's me. Have I- been adopted?" 
"You sure have, darlin'" Judy said with a smile, "Don't worry, they do this with everyone." 
"Oh… well okay, but you’ll be dealing with- me, I guess, I’ve been told i’m a handful," Virgil said. He found already liked the idea of this much better than going back to that door as Bel laughed.
"Great," Bel said, smiling, "I know Lily already introduced me, but I'm Bel, Lily's husband, general of eighty-five legions." 
He proudly extended an extremely large hand for a handshake, just like Lily had. 
"I’m Virgil," Virgil nodded after shaking his hand, man, he was strong, "Uh, single - I think - and General of emo makeup, stupid Tumblr posts at 3am and way too much coffee." 
Bel barked out a laugh, “You’ll fit right in here, don’t even worry.”
"Okay, continuing the introductions, over there - in the shark onesie - is Sharkie, she/they pronouns for them,” Lily said, pointing to a short person who was, in fact, wearing a shark onesie. They were currently talking to another soul - who seemed unreasonably angry about the decor of the lobby, of all things, though when she was mentioned they looked over and offered an energetic wave, which Virgil returned with a little less enthusiasm.
“Over there at the back are Ruggy - trainee t-shirt - and Angel, the pink one, they’re girlfriends,” Lily said, pointing to a pair who stood close together behind the desk, the pink-skinned demon - Angel, Virgil thought that was a pretty ironic name, right? - nudged the woman she stood next to before shooting a beaming smile his way.
“Hii!” Angel called, “You a newbie?”
“Uh- yeah, I guess?” Virgil said, looking her over, “I like your hair, it’s cool.”
“Thank you! I like yours! We’re ombre buddies!” She gasped, her voice was bubbly and excitable and Virgil found themself smiling just from proximity, “He’s a cutie, Rugs, we’re keeping him.”
“I think Lily’s already got dibs,” Ruggy laughed, Angel pouted, “hey! It’s nice to meet you!”
“Who else… Dante’s at school, Penny’s spending the day in her paradise, you’ve already met Judy - the twins, where are the twins? Angel?” Lily called, “Do you know where the twins are?”
“Oh!” Angel said, “Remus was here a bit ago, xe said they had ‘something to discuss’ with Cthulu - I think you know what that means - and I think Roman’s helping to direct the play the high schoolers are putting on at The Theatre in a few weeks today! I doubt either of them will be back soon, though.”
“Darn, well it’s just us for now then,” Lily shrugged, “In that case, how’d you like a bit of orientation as to how things work down here, Virgil?”
“Okay - but uh-”
“Hey! You!” Someone yelled from behind him, Virgil turned arond with a start, eyes wide, to be faced with a soul who was more red in the face with anger than Virgil had ever seen - and he’d seen a lot of people angry.
“Me?” Virgil practically squeaked.
“Yeah, you,” He said, “You work here?”
“Not yet-” Virgil said, taking a deep breath and standing up to his full height - taller than this guy - he’d dealt with his fair share of angry people in his life, this was nothing, “But uh- I will be, I think?”
He glanced back at Lily, who was watching him with a worried expression.
“Hey! You’re talking to me,” The man snapped, clicking his fingers right next to Virgil’s ear. 
“Hey dude, I don’t even work here,” Virgil told him, “Yet, I literally just got here-”
“I don’t care! There's been a mistake, clearly, because I’m here.”
“Okay, but-” Virgil started, before being interrupted again.
“I already told you I don’t care about you, I just need help.”
“Excuse me sir would you kindly stop bothering my new kid and talk to someone who is, you know, actually sitting behind and working at the desk,” Lily said, when Virgil looked back, she was twirling a knife around her fingers with a smile that - at face value - was a classic customer service smile, though Virgil thought they could pick out something a little more menacing behind it, “Now your options are to fuck off down to your level like a good boy, or, oh look! we just got the cheesegrater setting working on the trapdoor again! if you’d prefer to experience that instead!”
The man finally stopped talking for a second, though he seemed geared up to protest, before they heard a woosh and looked to the side, where the shark-person was now crouched on the desk, holding what looked like a real lightsaber, with an outright unhinged grin on their face that had Virgil doing a double take.
“Y’know uh-” The man said, looking between Sharkie and Lily with more fear than anger on his face now, “You uh- the stairs were which way again?”
“Good choice,” Lily said, tone stone cold as she placed the knife on the desk, “Stairs are that way, they’re labled.”
“...Woah,” Virgil said, as soon as the guy was out of earshot. Sharkie slumped.
“Damnit,” She said, “I really wanted to use the lightsaber today.”
“I’m sure you’ll get another chance later, Sharkie,” Lily waved them off, before turning back to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t expect him to go after you like that.”
“Oh yeah,” Virgil said, waving his hands, “I’m fine, that was - I’m used to stuff like that,  I’m uh… more surprised that you guys stuck up for me…”
“‘Course we did, newbie,” Sharkie said, punching his arm as they hopped off of the desk, “You’re part of the team now right?”
Virgil nodded slowly, “I think so…”
“Yes, you are,” They said with a nod, “And that means we got your back, kay?”
“...okay,” Virgil said.
“Hey Sharkie,” Lily said, “We’ve got another soul incoming, you think you can show Virgil around the break room?”
“Sure mum!” Sharkie said, grinning, “C’mon, emo boy!”
—-
“Okay so this is the water cooler,” Sharkie said, “Ignore that noise, this is cool, right, because it has a ‘water to wine’ filter, so you can get wine from it if you want!”
Virgil’s attention was brought back to Sharkie as they demonstrated said feature, and he tried to ignore the screaming he could hear from beyond the door. 
“Is that uh, normal?” Virgil asked quietly, gesturing with his themb back towards the Hellp Desk.
“Oh yeah,” Sharkie nodded, “We get at one that needs a smackdown at least once a week, it’s cathartic!”
Virgil nodded slowly, grimacing as he thought about it, “They are… actually bad people, right?”
“Well duh, this is hell,” Sharkie said, making a face, “Like, yeah there's the ones that are just here for therapy, but they’re not the shitty ones, and we don’t beat up the shitty ones.”
Humming in acknowledgement, Virgil felt himself relax a little, knowing that the people he’d just met weren’t… secretly just like everyone else he’d known in life.
“The guy getting torn to shreds out there is like, irredeemably shitty, I promise,” Sharkie said, clearly noting Virgil’s wariness around the solutions, “Like one of those dick billionaires or something.”
“We get to beat up dick billionaires down here?” Virgil gasped, snapped out of his worries, “Can I punch Elon?”
Sharkie snortied, “That’s the spirit! He’s not down here yet, but I’ll save ‘em for you!”
“Thanks, Sharkie,” Virgil said, allowing a smile to creep onto his face as they grinned.
“Okay okay, back to the tour, over here we have the sorta kitchen area, people leave snacks in here sometimes, if it’s not labelled it’s free game,” They told him, gesturing around the space, “Lily always keeps snacks in her desk too so if you need some just lemme know.”
“Won’t she get mad?” Virgil asked, glancing back at the door. They really didn’t want to get onto Lily’s bad side. 
“Nah,” Sharkie waved a hand, “Not really, and I’ll cover for ya.”
“...If you say so,” Virgil said, smiling as Sharkie bounced around the space, explaining the excuses wall and the chuckleheads' wall of shame…
“So yeah, this is where we put the last soul who got laughed at by God.” Sharkie explained, gesturing to the picture currently plastered to the board - she looked like your typical Walmart Karen, “Oh, I think the screaming’s stopped, c’mon, lets go back out and Lily’ll show you how the desk works!”
Smiling fully now, Virgil followed Sharkie out of the breakroom and back into the lobby. 
He might have woken up that morning in the mortal world, dreading the day ahead… But it sure had turned out to be an interesting day indeed. 
—-
“Hello this is the Hellp desk, baring in mind I just got here and don’t know what I’m doing, how can I help… you?”
“Hey! You’re the new kid, right? Angel sent a text that I didn’t read-” Said the demon standing at the desk, whom Virgil was now staring at, slightly terrified.
“I’m so sorry sir- ma’am?” Virgil asked, face immediately going red, “I didn’t realise you weren’t-”
“Any terms are fine,” They said, “Any pronouns too, so, it’s cool, I’m Remus, nice to meet ya!”
Virgil hesitated to shake the demon’s hand, in part due to the fact that he was soaking wet and dripping water all over the floor and the desk, another part due to the fact that he stank of seafood. Eventually, he shook zer hand, very quickly, before pulling away and finding that it wasn’t water dripping from her hand, but some kind of slime. 
“Don’t mind the gunk,” Remus waved them off when they opened their mouth, “I was just with Cthulu, kinda part of the deal, anyways, newbie, where is everyone? They leave you here by yourself?”
“No, no,” Virgil shook his head, “Lily, Bel and Judy went to the breakroom for a minute, something about a pie, um, Greg? I think. Said something about Level 9, and the um, the girlfriends? I don’t- names- they went off somewhere, I think I heard coffee? And I don’t know where Sharkie is.”
“Probably raiding someone’s snack drawer,” Remus waved him off, “Have ya met my brother yet?”
“I uh… don’t… think so?” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes, “Wait- are you one of the twins? I think the pink girlfriend mentioned a Remus…”
“Yup! That’s me! My bro’s Roman,” Remus nodded, “And if ya can’t remember then you haven’t met him trust me, you wouldn’t forget that guy, he makes it impossible.”
“Remus!” Someone yelled, “Get your sea gunk off my desk!”
“Oopsie!” Remus said, giggling as Lily strode over, “Gotta go! See you round, newbie!”
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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)
Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer
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anxiouslyfred · 11 months
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Performance Over
For @sanders-sides-a-spec-week free day
Summary: Life is a performance to Janus as he tries to be successful in his career, but pretending that sex or romance interests him gets to be too much sometimes. On one of the days he takes to avoid all flirting, he finds himself new friends who understand.
/\/\
It was all a performance and Janus knew people never understood that. He didn't want them to understand it either, but that didn't make it any less exhausting.
Occasionally someone would almost get it, almost understand just how much was a performance, but never quite. They always believed that he was being genuine to them, or revealing who he really was to them because they were special, not because they were the type to be convinced by feeling they were different to other people. Honestly, Janus could do without people pointing out his treatment of others was all an act and ignoring the biggest act he'd ever had to perform: The romancing, the wooing, and especially the flirting to convince people to do or think how best to benefit him.
As the door to his home fell shut, Janus could only let out a heavy breath. He'd taken his bows and left the stage for the day.
It had been building up for a while, just how badly keeping this performance up constantly was making him feel, but it wasn't so simple to find spaces to let down the act. Sure, he could go to a bar, and spend an evening without trying to charm or get something out of everyone he spoke to, but he'd still be expected to flirt.
And flirting, showing any interest in dating or fucking another person, was the most exhausting part of this personality Janus showed to the world.
He needed a day without people, or a miracle to strike and reveal a group of aroace people he could hide with.
A day going on a hike it is then, he decides.
*
There's a hill that Janus tends to climb when he wanted to get away from people. It wasn't that nobody else went there, but usually the people who did were hiking themselves or with a group and didn't want to speak to strangers equally as much as Janus.
“Virgil, you can bury yourself in your room when you're home again. You promised me you'd spend time with us all today.” A masculine voice was chiding and sounding far too friendly for Janus's liking. Since they were ahead of him on the path he could only hope to pass whatever group there was without getting noticed.
“I said I'd spend time with you, not that I'd be dragged up a mountain because of your whims.” Presumably Virgil replied, grumbling, and now Janus could see the group and hence the speaker, looking around their group as if hoping one of the other 3 with them could distract the person trying to grab his hand.
He was just behind the group now, trying not to listen to the conversation. Besides the conversation between Virgil and the man who'd been identified as Patton over Virgil joining them, there was a pair of brothers prone to wrestling or deciding to simply carry one of the others of the group, as well as very teacher type person, who'd gone of on a few rants, barely listened to, over the plants or bird song they could hear.
Then Janus found himself grabbed in a bridal carry by one of the brothers. It was the one in darker clothes but he hadn't been able to figure out their name. “Excuse me?” He stated, shocked enough that no venom or anger made it into his tone.
“If Roman gets to carry Virgil, then I get to carry someone, and I'm not getting in the way of Logan doing science stuff.” The person explained, as if that ruled everyone out.
“I'm a stranger and what about that guy?” He growled, gesturing sharply towards Patton.
Remus pulled a face, sticking his tongue out as if disgusted. “He thinks romance is great. I'm not doing anything that could be seen that way to him if you offered a million bucks. Besides I'm Remus, and now you know my name we aren't strangers!”
“Janus, and are you saying everyone here except whomever that is, is aromantic?” He blinked, frowning for a moment. The entire reason he chose hiking over socialising when needing to get away from the performance of romance was because he couldn't find a group of people like this, and now he's seemingly being kidnapped by one, given he's still being carried.
The other shrugged, “Aromantic Roman, asexual Me, both Virgil, demi-aroace Logan, and fully allo Patton.” Remus nods to various members of the group, identifying them for Janus, who was even more surprised when as they were mentioned everyone waved, or called a greeting. “Why? You looking to know more people who only flirt to joke at how many absurd things people try to claim are flirting? Hell I've been told I flirt with my brother because we had month long competitions over who can take the longest to say hello.”
“More like people I don't have to pretend romance is a thing I'd want at all around. I'm aroace, by the way.” He admits, smiling when that gets and excited grin thrown down at him, until the moment Remus stumbles because he stopped looking at where his feet are going.
“You got us now!” Remus yells, making Janus startle in his arms.
Virgil snickers, making them both notice Roman is now walking beside them, still carrying him. “Or rather Remus has you. I hope you're okay with being carried. These two don't put new friends down easily, well unless requested, demanded or said person is spiralling into a panic attack and they start freaking out over scaring their new person.”
“I'll assume you were the one to panic then.” Janus countered, sparing a glance for the path ahead and the other member of the group he'd been made to join.
“And will share stories of it forever more.” Virgil's smirk widened at the protests that came from the brothers. “These two are still learning how to help with them, even after knowing me for 3 years.”
Janus smirked back, letting the conversation carry on around him easily.
Life is a performance for Janus, and flirting was the most exhausting part of it, but today a miracle happened and he found people the performance didn't need putting on for. A blessing he hadn't dreamt of receiving.
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How does Virgil get along with the fae princes after Janus is resurrected? Are he and Roman to actually get along a bit after a bit of time passes? How does Roman feel about Remy being so close to Virgil now?
(This is referring to the TTL Janus Dies AU, not the actual story)
Virgil is a fucking bitch to Roman. He doesn't give a fuck what he did to Princey because as king Roman has done worse to humanity. He still calls him Princey (not affectionate in this case) and definitely calls him out for what he put Remy through. At this point, Virgil's dark past is centuries behind him but Roman's is still happening and Virgil has the audacity of a man who left behind his entire life and has been on the run from his own family for hundreds of years while killing unseelie. He sat with his crush while he was slowly tortured to death and carried a piece of that dead man's soul inside of himself for countless years after, while Roman was where doing what? Virgil has zero fucks left to give and no respect left for Princey.
Roman is seething that Virgil is so close to his brother who is pissed at him and his claimed who will barely even talks to him. And there's nothing he can do about it. He dug his grave, now he has to lie in it.
Patton is just happy that Janus is happy with Virgil and it comforts him to know that Janus wasn't actually alone in his final moments. He doesn't like Virgil's attitude but understands that it's well-deserved at this point.
It's going to take a while for Logan to learn to connect with his emotions again and cope with them. He finds himself both fond of and intimidated by Virgil. He thinks he likes Virgiil as a person but doesn't like how it makes him feel when Virgil calls him out on his bullshit.
Virgil is wary of both Patton and Logan. He's seen what they're capable of. At this point in his life he's secure enough that he isn't yearning for approval from anyone who's nice to him. He has standards and no offense, but Patton and Logan don't meet them.
Virgil and Remus actually get along like a house on fire. Remus went a long way toward redeeming himself by turning traitor for the slightest chance of getting Janus back. He showed his true colors and showed how much he was hurting. Besides, now that Virgil knows how Roman, Patton, and Logan were treating him he knows that Remus was never really of their level of asshole. Also, it's pretty clear that Remus has been struggling with mental illness with no help. All of that doesn't excuse everything Remus has done, but Virgil's not perfect either. At the end of the day Remus brought Janus back to him.
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meowthefluffy · 2 years
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I have Thoughts about the Evil King AU... Namely just how Roman's utter devotion is what's going to doom him. All he wants is to love Virgil and have Virgil love him back, and it gets so out of control, because Roman doesn't know where to stop and Virgil has very loose morals. Loving Virgil is the thing that will be his destruction.
Conversely, Virgil is almost certainly doomed to be alone. He was alone, isolated by his distrust, before he let Roman in, and he will be alone when Roman inevitably gets himself killed trying to protect his King. Even if/when Roman comes back (because I loved that concept so much), Virgil will surely have a hard time letting his guard down, a hard time believing that Roman won't just be ripped away from him again, and thus push Roman away.
I just love that they are, by nature, doomed by the narrative. Makes you feel almost bad for them, but then there's the Crimes Against All That Is Good.
YOU, YOU GET THIS AU!!!
They are doomed!!! From the moment they meet each-other their fate is sealed, and they know it! They know from the start there is no way this can end happily.
Roman knows that loving Virgil is going to get him killed, but he’s willing to risk it for a chance at loving Virgil, at least for a while. Not even necessarily in a reciprocated way either. When Roman signs on to be Virgil’s guard he doesn’t except to become Virgil’s mistress or anything like that. He is fully prepared to be used up and die pining after a man who will never look his way. So when Virgil DOES love him he holds tight to it. He holds tightly to the idea that his feelings are not misplaced.
But even when he has everything he could have ever wanted he’s never truly at ease, never truly off the job. Because he’s Guard first, mistress second, and ROMAN third. He’s willing to lose himself, his hopes and dreams for a life beyond his fanatical obsession for a chance at being with Virgil.And he knows that his place at Virgil’s side is nothing but a target on his back
And Virgil knows it too. He knows that Roman is going to in the line of fire. He knows that Roman is his final defense, and with all the people who want him dead it’s not a good idea to get attached. Roman isn’t his first personal guard and he won’t be the last. Worst case scenario Roman does his job a bit too well and ends up dead.
Best case scenario Virgil ends up dead.
A part of him always tenses when Roman has his sword out. A part of him is always expecting it to be at his throat. Virgil isn’t a fool, he knows Roman’s “HISTORY” with the rebellion.
But he pushes the fear and paranoia aside every time. Because every time Roman smiles and Virgil forgets what he was fearful of. He loves Roman so much it hurts, because Roman is the only thing that makes him forget. Forget who he is, forget what he’s done.
To his people, to his servants, to his family.
To Roman.
And he holds tightly that feeling of freedom, he holds so tightly he’s sure if it had been anyone else he’d have surely suffocated them. But Roman is in just as deep and doesn’t notice the lack of air anymore. When Virgil sees the red flags all he notices is their resemblance to Roman’s eyes.
Virgil knows that every step he takes to protect Roman takes him closer to his life becoming a self fulfilling prophecy. Every person he kills for getting too close has a family member joining the rebellion in revenge. His love and obsession with Roman blinds him to the Nobels in his ranks scheming against him, but it doesn’t blind him to kill others under the false pretense of being traitors. Without Roman Virgil wouldn’t be nearly as liberal with the executions and thus the Rebellion wouldn’t have the power or strength to cause a real threat.
The strength and power to get Roman out of the way.
Their love is what will be their doom but they dare to love anyway.
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