#give us that mixed race dark skinned RO

[grapecaseschoices]

i usually don't send asks and i would send this off anon, but im scared of getting hate on this, since ive seen quite a lot of discriminatory behaviour in if fandom spaces when it comes to poc opinions so imma just stay anonymous if that's ok with u.

i came across a post you posted a while ago regarding the if ROs and the lack of diverse characters when it comes to darker skin characters and i just wanted to say thank u for making that post. i hope it gives writers and the fandom some food for thought. ive been noticing ever since i got into the if community that black/ros of black descent tend to almost always be the less popular ros and as a mixed black person myself it's really sad to see. you also mentioned the lack of darker skinned east Asians/south East Asians if i recall correctly (if not please feel free to correct me) and I honestly couldn't agree not. ive noticed in some ifs that the characters of color that are the most popular tend to be those of east Asian descent with paler skin or poc ROs who's ethnicity is left ambigious by the author and whilst I'm really happy that there's been more progress made in terms of diversity, i would love to see more black characters who aren't sidelined to the best friend stereotype and more poc characters who's ethnicity is made clearer.

some south east Asian friends of mine who are of Hmong-Thai and Agta-Filipino descent have also mentioned they would would love to see more South East Asian ROs as well as East Asian ROs who are darker skinned, because the majority of the rep that there seems to be for Asian characters are those with paler skin. its a similar feeling for Latinx ROs, i almost always see lighter skinned Latinx ROs being represented in the majority with a lack of darker skinned Latinx ros. I'm not forcing anyone to add diversity to their game ofc, but the ratio of poc ROs to white ros on some games have made me kind of sad to see, specially when there's like 4 or 5 white ros and then 2 ros of colors who seem like they were just kind of tacked on for representation points, but their backgrounds are left ambigious and no Nationality or ethnicity is ever mentioned by the author which kind of leaves me scratching my head ngl. there's also a prominent lack of SEA and SA rep in terms of ROs, so I'm always happy when I see one! I would also love to see more biracial characters who aren't half white, since we aren't all a monolith.

regarding black ros. in my time in the community whilst ive seen an increase in the amount of black ROs, seeing them always be the least popular in polls still makes me quite sad. i hope that fandom can become more open minded and give more black ROs a chance. on the other hand I've seen a lot of greatly written black ROs in comparison to back in the day, and I'm glad people are incorporating more ROs based on their culture which is great!

sorry about this essay, but i hope it doesn't come across as rude or offensive, it's just something that has been on my mind ever since ive seen your post regarding the lack of representation in if. English isn't my first language so I hope I expressed myself alright.

negl, when i the way you started and then the length of this post, i foreal thought it was gonna be a fight. so, it was a relief that isnt the case. i honestly don't think there's anything for me to add, because you said my feelings and all i could do is nod along as i read this.

though, i'm glad that my post struck a chord for you. (is that the thing to say?? i'm not even sure. i guess my purpose for that post was pointing out the ignored part and bringing on encouragement as well. so, while i'm glad it encouraged you to share your opinion and made you feel less alone in feeling uncomfortable with what you were seeing -- it sucks that things haven't changed to a point where you can feel comfortable saying your thoughts off anon without being harassed. like yikes [not at you, but at fandom]. roflmao. like this is 2023. we really STILL at a point where we're going to make people feel bad about having a GENERAL issue with the racism and colorism that if writers & the if fandom continue to show? rather than … idk continue to DO something about it.)

i would love to see more black characters who aren't sidelined to the best friend stereotype and more poc characters who's ethnicity is made clearer.

i have actually seen some improvement, too. either from the fandom directly zeroing in and supporting black characters (i know the polls can seem disheartening - and i had a feeling that's what drew you to my inbox - but there HAVE been moments where the black character would be the most favored ro -- buuuuuut .... sadly, it is still so rare that i continue to be surprised when it occurs) or in the if writers boosting black characters because they have an awareness regarding fandom's bias. i definitely do think we need more of the latter, tho.

i still think there is a very long way to go. extremely. like i think in general, despite the imporvements we have both observed, a lot of the newer games i've seen ratio is still low like you said. it's a mix instead of being - at least from my observation - as consistently majorly white like it used to be. now i'd say the ratio is aybe 3 (white characters) to 2 (characters of color, of different races) ... as opposed to 3:1. Whoo. BUT i've seen what you mentioned too, still -- too many games are still so white. And if they're not, they're more often than not theyll be light skinned East Asian or black (or mixed... with white). Or an ambigous Latino that I can't tell if they're a white Latine or meant to be a character of color. So, yeah ... i don't know what it is. a fear of writing characters of color, not finding characters of color romanceable, or just a lack of awareness.

Like I guess I agree with you (lmao), I don't want to "pressure" people to have diversity either --- mostly because the people who get hurt in cases like that are minorities reading the story. My desire, I suppose, is a want to understand. I know a lot of IF writers have the idea that 'my story is for me', and in a sense, I agree -- I think we shouldn't expect writers to bend every bit of story to the fans (not even an interactive story). I've seen the mess that can create. However, if you wanted it to be JUST your story, you would've left it in your journal. You want engagement and participation -- you want to share, and I believe most stories should be shared. So, why as an artis wouldn't you want to make a story where .... I don't know. I'm tired. I've kind of gotten to a point where I'm just like whatever. I'm disappointed in myself for expecting better from IF writers and the IF fandom.

BUT I am glad that you and your friends are not only discussing but EXPECTING better, because you deserve it. Because your friends deserve to see and engage with characters who are SEA (of all shades, but especially of darker skinned). You deserve to see mixed raced characters who aren't half white (or light skinned), because as stated yall arent a monolith -- that isn't all there is in the world. (And it's WEIRD to me, like WHY do we AUTOMATICALLY assume mixed/biracial = partially white? I mean I KNOW why but COME ON! lol.)

*sighs*

i WILL say though, again, it's not all bleak: and i have seen variation of the TYPE of characters of color -- like it isn't always the cold e. asian or the black emotional pack mule best friend. so that's good. and i hope that continues.

and you're fine, dove. i actually appreciate your ask because like i said i was feeling kinda ho-hum about things but this sorta sparked a fire in me, roflmao. you expresse yourself just fine, and honestly despite the essay i wrote back i really didnt have anything worth adding.

#grapecase answers #interactive fiction #representation matters #diversity #fandom stuf #if fandom #h o n e s t l y #just read what anon said because i honestly didnt say anything different #they got all my feelings in a nutshell and i just very wordily parroted them back #everything under the cut is just anon getting me in my feelings #you got me hype again dove #i was just feeling so blergh about this whiteness in if and the fandom #but you're right the discussions SHOULD continue and you're also right that there HAVE been some cool stuff -- like i agree #i am really loving people writing stories or ros based on their culture #it's grand #i hope anyone who sees this isnt put off by the length and takes anons words as encouragement #do that research and give us that SEA ro #give us that mixed race dark skinned RO #give us that afro-latine RO #come on you know you want to #the world is so diverse. and the if community is just so broad. how could you not WANT to engage in the voices that you expect / hope to #engage with your imagination and your heart #idk what im saying but i have feelings on this that i need to ponder #anyway #long post

[hotchfiles]

↪ day two. the one who got away — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [no rainfall, no sunshine] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x rossi!reader. summary: if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it. content warnings: major character death (reader), blood, funeral, grief. fem reader, she/her pronouns used by the end. word count: 1.1k

      Time stood still for what felt like hours, he couldn’t feel his limbs, his legs didn’t move, his mind full of racing thoughts but none making any sense, too jumbled together to be able to complete a single line of action, his eyes burnt and blinking away he noticed it was due the tears. Aaron’t didn’t bother to clean them. 

      Not like this. Not right now. 

      The blurriness begins to fade as the sirens became louder, Aaron tries to run as his legs obey him once more, but he’s stopped by Derek’s arms, holding him back at full force and yelling his name. The yelling seems far away even though it’s in front of him. 

      “Morgan! Let me go, let me go!” He tries to give his most stern look, his throat is dry and voice cracks out as he tries to be heard over the commotion, Spencer and Emily bring helping arms, stopping him from trying. “Does she have a pulse? Why aren’t they taking her already?”

      All he can see is red, from the ambulances, from the sirens, from the blood splattered in the white blouse you chose to wear to work that day. The blue badge hanging on your pocket proudly where red touched: Blood and bloodline, Rossi.

      “Where’s Dave?” Realization dawns on him, he couldn’t get to you because it wasn’t good, and your father was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Ros–Did anyone call David?” It’s all happening fast, in seconds, minutes, but he still isn’t able to let your last name slip out of his tongue, hurting as he thought so. 

      You’re finally placed on a gurney and he feels a tiny bit of hope, ready to fight the arms of his colleagues, his family, to run to you. 

      His knees fail him before he could, a dark tarp being pulled over you, your arm slipping from the gurney, lifeless. 

      Not like this. Not again. 

      Derek tries to stop him from falling to the pavement, but the weight of his body giving up is too much. Aaron ends up sitting on the sidewalk, unable to speak, unable to listen to any comfort anyone tried to bring him. He’s cursed. He’s sure of it now. 

      If there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against Aaron. He’s cursed, he knows it. 

      “I didn’t tell her–I thought I had time–I didn’t tell her…” He’s a mumbling barely understandable mess and after that it all mixes up together, all sounds, all images turning into one big blur that turned into the sight of your body being carried away. 

      Next thing he knows he’s at the hospital even though he’s not allowed to recognize your body, he’s not family, even though he had just a week before started to look for engagement rings, he’s not family yet. He didn’t buy one, he didn’t propose. 

      He can’t sign any papers regarding your death off because he took too long to ask you to go to a courthouse with him, get married, sign papers proving you were part of him as much as he was a part of you instead. All Aaron could do was sit down on the first chair he could find, eyes glued to his own hands, sweaty, white from his mental state but clean; not bloody like yours when it dropped from the gurney. 

      He doesn’t know how much time passes, JJ sits by his side, offers him water, coffee, tells him they’ve called home to tell Jessica to keep Jack for a few more hours. 

      Home. The word alone makes his skin crawl but he doesn’t have enough time to dwell into it, the shuffling of Dave’s quick steps snapping him out of it quickly enough for him to watch the older’s hand closed into a fist, the punch to his jaw was the obvious next step but he didn’t move, accepting it gratefully as it was his fault. 

      It’s the first time he sees David cry and he’s expecting yelling, but he feels arms around him instead. 

      They cry together. Your father tells him he’s sorry for his first reaction, but he knows that’s gonna go deep into Aaron’s unconscious for a long time. 

      It wasn’t his fault, everyone around him kept telling him that and the rational part of his brain did too, but he couldn’t let go of how you were alone because of him. Because of how he reacted when you suggested moving in together, getting a bigger place with a backyard for Jack. 

      Aaron told you it was too soon, that Jack had enough change in his life, that you needed to take things slow. He told you no because he was afraid, terrified of ruining things that were already too good to be true. 

      You weren’t happy with his response, you went back to your apartment. You were alone. 

      It was an accident, you stepped on the road too soon, the truck never saw you coming, there was a series of hits after that, several injured, only you fatal. He couldn’t blame anyone, so he blamed himself. It wouldn’t happen if you were with him. 

      The funeral tears him apart, Jack didn’t cry when his mom died, not at first, he didn’t understand, but now he was old enough to understand a funeral meant he would never see you again, so he sobbed embraced by Joy, she had tears herself streaming down her eyes from losing her half sister. Just a reminder of another person Aaron failed. 

      Your father gives a speech about how he wished he had more time, how glad he was about the time he had and tries to lift up the mood by saying that at least he wouldn’t have to look for a murderer, you hated his books about it after all. 

      No one was sure if Aaron would speak, knowing that doing that once was enough for a lifetime, but he needed to, he needed to say it out loud, even if you couldn’t hear it. 

      “I was always terrified I was going to bite more than I could chew with her–” He smiles to himself, memories of you flooding his mind, “She was a force of nature, and I loved her, I did. I love her still. And I never told her that, she was so patient with me and I never told her how much I love her because I was scared.” He had so much more to say, but he knew he would break down if another word left his lips, so he just stepped aside, taking Jack in his arms to comfort and be comforted by his little boy. 

      He couldn’t sleep that night, or the ones that followed, thinking about how if he told you before how much he loved you, even if you knew without it, if he looked for rings earlier, if he bought one, proposed, if he just got over his fear of losing people and kissed you when you suggested moving in with him… You wouldn’t have slipped through his fingers like that. 

      Aaron is cursed, he knows that.  

#marchhotchness #lari march hotchness #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

[nyehilismwriting]

Would you consider putting together short physical descriptions of the main ship crew including non ROs? For drawing reference 🙏🥺

yep! I've actually been working on these for the directory for the next update so I'll drop 'em here too - they aren't all that comprehensive but they should give a general idea. I'll add some stuff from my notes as well.

leanna: A dark-skinned woman of lean build, Leanna has thick, tightly curled black hair that she frequently ties back, black eyes, and an open, friendly face; she smiles easily, and carries the lines of a working life around her eyes.

[notes: pierced ears, usually wears dark, earthy colours. practical clothing.]

ki-ha: Ki-Ha is a stocky man, with the kind of solid weight that comes from both muscle and fat; he's got deep brown eyes, short black hair going grey at the temples, and his hands are littered with burn scars. You've glimpsed tattoos on his hands, though you're not sure how far up they go.

[notes: the tattoos do go all the way up both arms but the operative hasn't seen them yet. also i have the word 'beefy' in my notes about 3 times <3]

rhaxa: Standing at around eight feet tall, with their serpentine neck and razor-sharp teeth, Rhaxa is what you might describe as 'intimidating'. They have six limbs: one pair of enormous, mantis-like claws, a set of roughly humanoid arms, ending in four-fingered hands with sharp claws, and digitigrade legs. Their wings consist of a membrane suspended from a prehensile cartilaginous structure, used not for flight but for movement and balance, and their tail is roughly half the length of their body again. Their skin is black, with the scales along their neck and limbs carrying a blue-green iridescence, and their eyes are vivid orange, with keyhole pupils. Rhaxa uses they/them, he/him, and xe/xem pronouns.

[notes: there's a post here with more info about the bugs' physiology]

skylar: Skylar has the same dark skin and black hair as his sister, though he keeps his cropped short; at nineteen, he's still young, bright-eyed and cheerful.

[notes: resemblance to leanna most prominent when smiling. no piercings, but he does have a couple of tattoos, including an albatross head on one shoulder]

joia: Joia is around eight years old, with the kind of fragile, bony look of a child growing slightly faster than her body can keep up; she's mixed race, with brown skin and black hair, currently worn in braids, and dark brown eyes.

#not including nash and rohan's bc they're available ingame already #these are the ones being added in the next update #imxa's will get added. hrngrr Later #riessene #ro descriptions #tagging this in the vain hope that tumblr search will ever let me see it again

[allyouleavebehind-if]

hi! love the premise of the game, i was just wondering if you can give us physical descriptions of the ROs + canon ethnicities? thanks!

Hi! Thank you for your kind words. I’m in the process of making separate posts for each RO with more in-depth information and a larger masterpost for navigation, but here’s some brief descriptions in the meantime!

L is African-American. Tall, has sepia skin and warm brown eyes. Lucia has her hair in long twist braids, and Luke usually has his in short two-strand twists.

S is Korean. Lithe, has light beige skin and dark eyes. Siyeon has her hair loose and shoulder length, and Soohyun keeps his short and messy.

Alais is white. Well-built, has pale skin and blue eyes. Dirty-blonde with styled, wavy hair.

Quatre is Filipino. Wiry, has cooler-toned tan skin and hazel eyes. Dark hair in a mullet wolfcut, and is usually tied half-up-half-down.

Nick is mixed race, his mother is Japanese and his father is Tamil Indian. On the lankier side, has olive skin and dark eyes. Their hair is short and tousled.

Rowan is mixed race, her mother is French and her father is Thai. Lean, has tawny skin and amber eyes. Her hair is in a wavy bob with longer strands in the front.

#RO #pinterest boards are being worked on too!

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

So like when ya gonna tell us more about these ROs 👀

I suppose I can give you heathens the RO informations. I suppose. (I’ll also be including their race/ethnicities as if they lived in our world! Just remember that the game world will not reflect this in a way that necessarily makes sense, though the continents for this world are very similar to ours!)

RO #1: Callian/Calliope/Calysan “Cal” Jackson

Race: Indonesian/black

Gender: Cis man/trans woman/genderqueer (tends to lean masc but not always outside of pronouns being he/him)

Age: Two years older than MC.

Physical Features: 6′2 with a lankier build with chub around their hips. Skin is a medium brown with warm undertones and tons of freckles. Eyes are honey brown with heavy lids. Hair is 3A curls that’s dark brown with faded red dye, and each one keeps it a little differently: Callian keeps it short with faded sides (think a mop of curls with faded sides basically lol); Calliope keeps it pulled back in a low ponytail, and Calysan tends to have it in two big braids.

Personality: Cal is a very cheery person for the most part. They tend to be a little protective of MC, but also very supportive. They’ve been MC’s rock for a long time because of their overall bubbly attitude about things. However... they do not do flirting well. Like, at all. They short circuit and, well... You’ll see.

RO #2: Astra Corvid

Race: mixed Greek/Italian

Gender: Cis woman

Age: Appears to be in her late thirties-early forties

Physical Features: 5′7, with an average build, though has muscular arms and legs. Her skin is tan and olive, with a lot of moles. Her eyes are emerald green and almond shape, though the right one has a bad scar along its inner corner that makes it a little lazy. Her hair is very straight and appears to be dirty blonde that’s a little longer than her shoulders; she usually wears it up in a tight sock bun when working.

Personality:Astra is a natural leader, and is someone who easily takes charge of situations. She’s very confident in her abilities and her people, even if many of them call her a “hardass”. However, she cares greatly for her troops and those she leads, as well as anyone close to her. Outside of work, she tends to be very laid back and much more open.

RO #3: Zederec “Zed” Dupont

Race: Unknown

Gender: Cis man

Age: Early thirties

Physical Features: 5′10, well-built; he’s not necessarily broad, but he’s a lot more agile than he appears. His skin is tanned darker than it actually is, though his non-sunkissed skin is more of a darker sandy color. He has hazel-blue eyes, though sometimes they shift to an almost amber color, and tends to have a seductive look about them. His hair is auburn and wavy and parted on the right; he tends to keep just above his shoulders, and very much takes the time to make it look both stylish and natural.

Personality:Zed is a flirty, charismatic man who has no trouble talking his way both in and out of things... usually. He does seem to attract trouble easily, even though he’s supposed to be a talented infiltrator. His trust is hard-won, but if you manage it... you’ll find out there’s so much more to Zed than what’s on his surface.

RO #4: Seth

Race: Egyptian

Gender: Cis man

Age: Appears to be mid to late thirties.

Physical Features: Seth is 6′2 with a muscular build. He has very darkly tan skin, though burn marks alter it and its tone in many places. His eyes are whisky brown. His hair is crow black and kept a little past his shoulders; it has loose curls, and usually keeps the left side braided away from his face.

Personality:Seth is... well... Seth. If someone he highly respects or cares for is even slightly insulted, he goes immediately in a full-on aggressor mode as he is fiercely loyal. He’s also very much an asshole a lot of the time; or treading the water of being one. It takes a LOT to get to who he actually is under his armor, but, a lot would find the effort very much worth it...

RO #5: Azeri Ren

Race: Latina/white

Gender: Prefers she/her, is probably demigirl or genderqueer though doesn’t like categorizing such things.

Age: Looks to be in her late twenties.

Physical Features: She is 5′2 and averagely built. Her skin is a very light tan. Her eyes are chocolate brown, though they turn pale grey when using her powers; they are round and soft. She has loosely curly black hair that seems to be greying early that goes to her waist; it’s usually kept loose or in a loose braid.

Personality: She is... rather strange. She’s rather kind and soft-spoken and quiet at first, though she gets into moods of high idealism and talks about her hopes to keep humanity safe from the [REDACTED]. She is a hard person to get to know, and even harder one to get to know personally, but... what all will you find if you uncover her secrets kept close to her heart?

And, as a little bonus, a little treat... I’ll tell y’all about the world and the MC but only a tiny bit.

So the continent/empire of Iterra takes place on what would be Africa! And... MC is from what would be the northern points of South Africa, and is currently living in the most southern point of South Africa :-)

#the iterrian tribulations #ro ask #asks #character description

[filypadreams]

Fleeting Touches

( Asmodeus x GN!MC)

Synopsis: Do you know what fleeting means? It means you should apreciate every moment while you can. Even if you get lost in illusions for it.

TW: Slight angst

_______________________________

The streets were full this time of the year, even with the cold weather. It was a race for most humans to get that last minute gift for that special someone.

Their children, parents, grandparents or significant others. For some reason it's tradition to get that one person a last minute present.

And that's always a disaster...

" Calvin Klein One... with bergamot, cardamom, pineapple and jasmin. Tropical? Or maybe Dolce & Gabanna Velvet Exotic Leather. Traditional and italian... also at good prices, I need to ask if they are antiallergenic! "

I spend 15 minutes on the line but get both perfumes and walk outside onto the sunny street. It's not as busy as the mall and I really should get home before it gets to close to one pm.

Today, faces are a blur to me.

" Thanks for the tip Asmo, I was sick of the strong scents of women perfumes and the always down to earth male ones~"

I cheerfully speak to myself while touching the 'tattoo' above my left breast.

It's a one-way communication system. I'm not even sure Asmodeus hears what I tell him but I sure do hear his thoughts.

" Ohhh, bootie alert at 12! No, wait! Delicious curves at 4- oohh...that's a mix at 9 o'clock~!"

I see a man, woman, I think the last one is in mid transitioning but I'm not sure.

" He'll be a beautiful man, I'm 95% sure!"

" Maybe it's a 'they'... not that you can hear me."

Though I agree, they look...handsome. With a nice physique, curly shoulder lenght hair, smooth skin as if rivalling Asmos' ... and who can resist a dark biker leather jacket?!

No, stop. Don't let the mark influence you from your mission MC!

Setting the christmas gifts.

I start running in the direction of the bus station when I collide with a tall lady, her black shades falling to the ground from her beautiful light pink sweater.

My head hurts. It felt like hitting a brick wall...or Beel.

Are my only thoughts as I scramble to pick her glasses and my shopping bag. Good thing it was well packed.

"Oh my~ I'm so sorry, I didn't notice such a beautiful face in this crowd. I was retoutching my eyeliner, huhu! Let me help~"

The lady crouches down next to me. I notice from the corner of my eyes that she is also wearing a black turtle neck... and has peach coloured hair...

" Asmo?!"

Darkness. A cold hand covers my eyes while the other takes the shades from mine and exchanges them with my bags...it seems. He whispers is my ear.

" Now, now. Don't ruin the surprise! I'm just a beautiful 'lady'. Hahaha."

And with that he dissapears. Everything seems to dissapear, as soon it gets dark and I'm sitted in my couch, replaying today's event.

It felt so real... I called him a lady.

Well... I don't think Asmodeus minds.

I walk around the tree, putting down colorfully wrapped gifts. That I went purposely to markets and malls to have wrapped!

Diavolo better play Santa and give me some grimm if I ever get an invite to Devildom, I blew most of my allowances with these!

On the blue corner I have vynil disks and office supplies. Getting stuff for Lucifer is hard.

The yellow corner... is a mess of acessories like shades and wristwatches and some jackets. Mammon needs a new one.

The orange corner was the cheapest but most difficult to prepare. I wrapped most of my otaku related rarities, in Devildom at least, and put them in a pile. Levi better apreciate my figurines!

The green pile was also simple. It's actually small with my old literature books. All from great authors and all trying to escape religious judgement so Satan might find that amusing.

I don't have a red corner, just baked goods on the table and two glasses of milk in case Santa visits.

I put purple pillows, warm robes, matresses and scarves around the tree. Belphie won't lose comfort soon.

And now finishing the pink corner.

There's the perfumes, some cosmetics I really don't get but my 'chest instinct' said to go ahead and...

" I hope he likes this fluffy bunny backpack!"

I kinda wanted the bunny for myself... but I can't.

The day went on so fast... why am I even doing this? Might as well call Solomon and offer him these so he can perform his rituals. I'll just wake up tomorrow to a full room of wasted money and a mountain of calories. An empty heart.

I caress the bunny when i hear rustling on my door. Something is playing with my wreath? I pick a knife from the dinning table.

" W-who's there?! Show yourself fiend!"

" Aww, that hurts to hear MC-chan..."

From the darkness into the light walks the same person I crashed into this morning.

" You better drop that knife before someone gets hurt..."

" How...Asmo, how are you here?! Why?!!"

Tears come to my eyes. It's been a while. A long while since I've seen any of them. Since I've had slumber parties with Asmodeus, self care sessions...

He shakes his head cleaning the few teardrops away with the back of his index finger and walks to the tree, messing with the gifts.

" Tears don't suit you well. Oh, you even got something for Barbatos... I'm slightly jealous, I thought you only thought about me~"

He starts opening his gifts.

" Wait! It's not even Christmas Eve. We need to wait until midnight at least..."

As I try to explain, his taller stature hovers over me, playing with my hair and putting a mistletoe, secure in it's knots. Wait... how is he so tall? The height difference is too abnormal.

" I'm afraid the concept of time doesn't apply in dreams, MC."

" H-huh?! Wha... the day... went on really fast. So you..."

I look down slightly dissapointed. The floor starts cracking and falling. Darkness and constelations starting to form under my feet.

" Afraid not. Christmas is not really part of our traditions, haha. Even if we had a great celebration that one time Diavolo proposed we did it with the exchange students.

I like the angel."

He points to the tree top.

" Oh, that... I was thinking of Beel and Belphie when I made the decision. It's my oldest decoration. I was thinking on putting a star this year but... I got a literal gut feeling to keep the angel."

I smirk at Asmodeus as he puts an arm around my shoulders, leaning me a little closer to him. We both apreciate the flashing lights from the tree. Even if it was fake. The rest of the room crumbles away and Asmo let's go of me to pick his gifts and stuffing them inside his new backpack.

" I know he was thinking of the only person that shines as bright as us two together.

Hmm, but you haven't been taking good care of yourself, MC-chan! Remember to follow the morning routine I gave you so your skin is almost as perfect as mine!"

" I haven't been feeling like...doing much I guess. I had a lot of work this year."

" Humans are always full of work. I mean me too.

Since RAD is closed for the 'holidays', we are back to our other jobs. Things get dirty real fast, so many pests! Maybe we can actually come visit during New Year's."

After apreciating the representation if Lilith, he turns to berate me, before picking a bottle of perfurm and examining it, followed by spraying some on while making a spin as he explains his bodyguard/demon threat exterminator job.

He must have loved it because he transforms, with a smile on his face and his horns move like pincers.

" I always found your demon form the funniest."

" ...Dear, I'm fabulous."

" Hahahahaha! Ok, but if this isn't a Diavolo, Barbatos or Lucifer' scheme... is it Belphegor's? You mentioned dreams, and it explains the constelations."

I look around, darkness being drilled by the light of many tiny stars.

" I think I see taurus... and of course he had ro include pisces. Mammon is supposed to be the greedy one, this is OUR moment!"

He huffes and crosses his arms. I chuckle and pat his back.

" So, I'm asleep at the same time as Belphie."

" It's night time in both worlds. You could say I'm an intruder. I was taking my immersive nightly bath as I prepared to get into your dreams~ I hope I didn't actually fall asleep, my poor skin!"

" How did you convince him?"

I wonder as he touches his arm and the parts of revealed skin as if to feel if something was wrong with his real body.

" Oh, well...he actually wanted to see you to! I also promised to take more cute pictures of Lucifer for him. But I don't think he admires his beauty the same way I do-"

The world trembles. Belphie must be waking up. And angry...

" Oh, dear! I must have upset him. This illusion will end soon and you'll wake up in your bed as if nothing happened. I hope you don't forget me."

Asmo walks closer and caresses my face. Kissing my forehead.

It's warm. Fleeting but I can feel his gestures. Even in a dream.

I slap his hand when I feel it sliding down my back a little too far.

" Ouch! My nail...ok, ok. I'm sorry! Won't happen again~"

He apologises when making contact with my burning stare and proceeds to act innocently after.

" It better not. I... think it will be difficult to forget you. Specially now. Make sure the others know-! Ahh!!!"

Another quake and I "conveniently" fall in his arms. I'm able to see his pixie sized wings batting in excitement.

" This is a cliché."

I mumble as Asmo wraps his arms around me.

" I need to go. I'm sure we'll see each other soon. You know I'll always be here. Literally. And I do hear you, you know?"

He pokes his mark, above my heart and pouts.

" ...I know... see you soon Asmo."

I pick his hand and kiss it.

Then I wake up. It's still the middle of the night. My room is cold.

There on my window sill are two roses. One peach and one dark pink.

The End

______________________________

Special dedicatory to: @shortnessangel

and @asmoluvsyou .

Bunny Backpack comes from: https://kawaiibabe.com/products/creepy-bun-backpack

(Curiosities: The perfumes are gender neutral, I can still link you the page where I found them.

The colour of the roses have a specific meaning. I can post the pic I got it from if you want.)

#obey me #obey me fic #asmodeus x gn!mc #asmodeus obey me #gn!mc #gn reader #slight angst #shikibutterfly

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Welcome to Oblivion-Ch. 31

Chapter 31

           Sonya looked me over as I rolled out of bed. The spring semester had started a week ago, and I was still getting back into the swing of a functional schedule. My roommate grinned and pushed her ever-present box of donuts toward me.

           “Morning, sleepy head,” she said as she pulled on her shoes. “You’ve got twenty minutes before your first class starts.”

           It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then, I sat bolt upright and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Shit,” I groaned, stumbling toward the bathroom. My first class was on the far side of campus. It took fifteen minutes to get there on a good day.

           “Oh,” Sonya added as she shrugged into a warm jacket. “It’s snowing.”

           In the next moment, she had her bag and had already slipped out of the room. I growled and shoved into the bathroom. Thank goodness Dana and Ember weren’t taking up counter space.

           “That’s it,” I said to my reflection. “I have to stop going over to the boys’ place during the week.”

           My thoughts raced as I ran a brush through my hair and brushed my teeth. They were a rush and jumble of the memories and moments that I’d lived during the break. The drive back to see my parents for Christmas. Slipping and sliding in the snow with Dean. Driving up the mountain in the warmth of Roman’s truck. Watching the ball drop on the sofa smushed between the two of them, Seth hovering in the background like a shadow.

           I tugged on some jeans and a warm grey thermal shirt. Thick socks and my best pair of boots. I slipped Roman’s worn Pirate’s hoodie on and snatched up my backpack. I only barely thought to check for my key before I slammed the door shut behind me.

           “There you are,” Drew called from the other end of the hallway. His accent seemed thicker since he’d come back from Scotland. I liked the way it sounded. For some reason, it made me think of home. “Where’ve you been hiding, lass?”

           I smiled, even though my heart was racing with anxiety. “New semester business, McIntyre. And I’m going to be late for class.”

           He fell into step beside me, his loping pace matching mine. “What class?”

           “Philosophy of Religion with Professor Michaels.”

           “Shit. In Hardy Hall?”

           I nodded. “Even if I ran, I’d never make it on time. This is a great way to start the semester.” We were at the steps that lead up the hill toward north campus. I rolled my eyes and grunted. “I’m blaming all of it on Ro and Dean.”

           Drew looked up the steep stairway and grinned. “Of course you wouldn’t make it. Your legs are too short. Come on.”

           He turned and snatched me up onto his back. I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t listen. He just rumbled with laughter and took the steps two at a time. “Drew! Put me down!”

           What felt like half a second later, he deposited me back on my feet at the top of the stairs. “Cut through the basement level of Andre Hall, make a left onto the skybridge into Piper Hall. Down the stairs on the right and you’ll come out right behind Hardy. Walk fast, lass.”

           Drew grinned and gave me a gentle push in the shoulder. I grinned back and took off across the icy sidewalk.

***

           The snow continued into the early afternoon, the flurries turning into fat flakes that drifted down and settled into piles and mounds along the ground. I picked my way along the sidewalk and slipped into the student center, shaking snow out of my hair. The ground floor was packed with people, practically every seat filled with students and staff desperate for some warmth and a refuge from the snow drifting down outside.

           I fell into the line in the coffee shop as I checked my watch. It was just after one in the afternoon, and I was free for a few hours before I had to tramp over to the Cove for practice. My knee ached faintly from the cold and the walking. I wondered what Coach Helmsley would say if I dropped out of practice for today. Football season was over. Competition season didn’t pick up until the end of February.

           Keeping one eye on the line, I dug my phone out of my pocket and opened my email. I tapped out a quick message to Coach Helmsley and sighed in relief that I would be able to go back to my room, take a hot shower, and then crash in my bed with a heat pack on my knee.

           “Hey, Addy,” said a familiar voice. I looked up to see Seth behind the counter. He grinned. “What’ll it be?”

           It took me a moment to realize that this was his job, working in the school coffee shop. Of course, it shouldn’t surprise me the way that he chugged caffeine as if it were oxygen. I looked up at the menu and frowned.

           “You know what, I’ve got just the thing,” he said with a wink. He grabbed a cup and started bustling around behind the hot bar, mixing up a coffee like it was a chemistry experiment. I watched, trying to keep track of everything he used. But it was so involved that it was nearly impossible to keep up.

           A few moments later, he slid the cup across the counter. “Give it a try,” he said, looking sheepish and innocently hopeful. I held the cup with both hands, letting the warmth sink into my skin. I blew across the top of the liquid before taking a small sip. Heat and sugar and caffeine spilled into me in the perfect mix. I grinned. “You like it?”

           I felt my whole body relax. “This is heaven in a cup, Rollins. You’ll have to teach me how to make it.”

           He grinned broader and I could have sworn that he blushed. “Can’t do that, Ads. If you know the secret, you’ll won’t come back again.”

           I leaned against the counter, oblivious to the line piling up behind me. “I doubt it. Seems like there’s more reasons for me to come by more often.” I felt the heat rush into my cheeks as I dug out my ID card. I cleared my throat. “How much?”

           Seth smiled, showing off a slight gap in his front teeth. His brown eyes were bright as he waved his hand dismissively. “It’s on me.”

           I smiled sheepishly and ducked my head. “Thanks, Seth,” I replied, stuffing the card back into my pocket. “Hey, tell Ro and Dean that I’ll be over Friday night. No more weeknights hanging out with you guys. I almost missed my first class this morning. Again.”

           He nodded, glancing sideways to check the line. He sighed and stepped back toward the register. “I’ll let them know. Dean’ll be crushed.”

           I backed away, holding the coffee as if it was a precious. “He’ll get over it. See you this weekend!”

           I climbed the stairs to the second floor. The cafeteria was packed with people and the scent of food drifted out every time someone opened the doors. I peered through the glass walls, trying to find Roman’s dark hair or Dean’s black beanie. When I couldn’t find either one of them, I took another flight of stairs up to the top floor of the student center. A row of tables lined the edge of the balcony—two tops that were cluttered with textbooks, laptops, lunch wrappers. I passed by, all of them taken. There were a few study rooms that overlooked the courtyard, and luckily one of them was open.

           It was one of the ones with one wall made of nothing but windows. I pulled the table as far from the window as I could, and tucked myself into the corner. It only took a moment to spread out my books and my laptop, the coffee Seth made sitting close by. Only a week into the semester, and I was already drowning in homework.

***

           “Hey,” Seth said from the doorway of the study room. “You found my hideaway.”

           I looked around, slightly bewildered. I’d lost track of time reading and working on a paper for English. “Sorry,” I replied, grabbing at my books and papers and starting to shove them into my backpack. “I’ll head out.”

           “Nah,” he said as he tossed his bag on the table and sank down in a chair right across from me. “Not many people use this room, so I come here after work. I can get more things done here than I can at home.”

           I grinned softly, thinking about Roman and Dean. My body filled with warmth at the thought of them. “Yeah, I can see how difficult it would be to focus with Dean around.”

           “Put the two of us together and we go nuts,” Seth added with a chuckle. “I’m surprised Roman’s put up with us as long as he has.”

           “You guys are his brothers,” I replied, pulling a stack of notes from my bag. “So… too bad we don’t have a class together this semester.”

           Seth’s brown eyes went slightly sad. “Yeah, I had to track my major. Business classes suck.”

           I laughed quietly. “Then why are you a business major?”

           “I want to open my own business someday. A coffee shop maybe.”

           “Well,” I picked up the now empty cup from earlier, “if it all tastes like this, you’ll make a killing.”

           “Thanks, Addy,” Seth whispered. “That means a lot.”

           He smiled and dipped his head toward his laptop.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @vebner37​ @lilred​ 91 @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @maelleoute​ @missjenniferb @librathephoenix13

#welcome to oblivion #lips of an angel prequel #seth rollins #dean ambrose #roman reigns #seth rollins fanfiction #dean ambrose fanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction #wwe #wwe fanfiction #shield #shield fanfiction #College!AU #college!shield #AU #addy holloway #addison holloway #dean x addy #roman x addy #roman x addy x dean #multi-chapter #ofc #oc

[rosesisupposes]

Do It For Us

Sequel to Do It For Him

word count: 5,881

pairing: Royality, background Analogical

warnings: Some mentions of poverty, forced ending of friendships, Deceit Is A Bit Of A Dick, mention of arranged/forced marriage, but mostly Quite A Lot of Fluff

reader tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​ @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @adorably-angsty​

And, of course, happy birthday month to Royality Queen @notveryglittery and a million thanks to my beta reader and platonic wife @mariniacipher

I had so much fun with the previous fluff, and then @xxxbladeangelxxx inspired me to give the sunshine gays a sequel <3

Read on ao3

Sun glinted and flashed over the metallic staccato of swords clashing against each other. Grunts of efforts mixed with heavy breathing, as two men squared off in the castle courtyard. One feinted to his right then brought his blade in a flashing arc to his left, but his opponent saw through the ruse and blocked easily before retaliating with a snake-like thrust, laying his blade on the other’s neck. The man knelt, acknowledging defeat.

“I yield.”

“A good match, Ian!”

The kneeling man smiled, shaking sweat-matted hair out of his eyes. “It’s kind of you to say, but we all know you’re just so gods-cursed fast, Sir Roman. All we can hope for is to hold our own.” The standing knight grinned, auburn hair only just barely dark at the edges from exertion. “That’s what training’s for, is it not? Learning how to beat me.”

Roman was stretching and chatting with other knights and soldiers in the training yard when he caught sight of a silent audience member to the early morning exercises.

He slipped over to the corner to greet his Prince, grabbing a damp towel on the way to wipe his face.

“Patton, dearest, what wakes you so early?”

The young heir to the throne grinned up impishly at the knight-captain of his guard. “A little birdie told me you practiced shirtless.”

None of his bravado and bluster was enough to prepare Roman for this. A blush immediately spread across his cheeks as his gaze dropped. He was the man primarily responsible for the kingdom’s heir, and he’d run his mother’s farm for years before beginning the rigorous knight training of the past decade and a half. Every inch of his body had been toned in service to the crown and the prince in front of him. And said prince was gazing besottedly at his muscled chest with a warmth that had nothing to do with lust. Or rather, almost nothing.

Pulling them both around the corner, out of view of the soldiers, Roman leaned down to kiss Patton softly. Patton smiled up into the kiss, feeling the heat of Roman’s continuing blush. He broke apart, letting the sensation linger, when suddenly he squeaked as Roman lifted him and spun him around.

“Who knew our sweet prince was so shallow?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Only my gaze is shallow: my love is deep,” the prince responded, giggling as he regained his footing. He kissed Roman’s cheek and delighted in the pink tinge that resumed there.

“Dear one, as much as I love to see you, I am starving. I’m on my way to the kitchens unless you need my protection now?”

Patton’s smile dropped for a moment before returning. “No, sweet. I would never keep you from your meals. I will be in my room.”

Growing up as a single child in a royal family meant a young Patton had to be rather creative when it came to making friends. An impressively strong sweet tooth combined with an ability to easily slip past his etiquette teacher led him to toddle down to the kitchens almost every other day. Puppy eyes earned him cookies from the maids and chefs unable to resist. It was after a successful mission, when he was sitting in his favorite alcove, munching on macarons, that he spotted another boy his age.

“Hey! Hello! Who are you?” he piped up happily, waving with his free hand. The other balanced his haul of violet cookies in his now-stained tunic.

The boy froze, eyes wide as he realized the comment had been indeed aimed at him.

“Me? ‘M no one.”

“Silly, no one is no one!” the little prince said cheerfully. “Do you wanna mac’ron?”

The boy approached shyly. “Yeah, that would be nice. They’re my fav’rite color too.”

Patton handed the dark-haired child one of the tiny sandwiches. Cautiously, the other bit into it.

“Oh! ‘S good!��� he exclaimed, mouth full.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Virgil. Virge.”

“I’m Patton! Hi!”

Virgil nearly dropped the remaining half of the cookie. “The prince?”

“Uh-huh! Here, do you want another?”

“I, uh, no, I can’t, they said I can’t talk to the prince or the king or the duke because I’m too little and shy, I don’t wanna be bad.”

“That’s silly,” the little prince said. He squinted at the other boy. He’d already decided that Virge was his new best friend - for the first time, an adult hand wasn’t immediately pulling him away from him. “Dada is very nice. An’ Lyle is silly. You won’t be bad for talking to them!”

Virgil swallowed, then ate more of the cookie. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Patton responded, beaming. “Do you wanna play with me?”

Every day, Virgil expected he’d see the last of the prince, that playing hide-and-seek with a scullery servant would lose its appeal. But instead, their friendship only grew as the years stretched on.

When they were ten, he’d snuck Patton out of the castle for the first time, checking behind him every second. But they’d made it into the city without detection. They’d played hopscotch with other children in the main square, helped a seamstress hold her fabric still, and found a mother cat giving birth to a litter of kittens. Not even discovering his allergy to the fluffy creatures had dampened the young royal’s spirits, and they’d snuck back into the castle high on success.

When they were fourteen, Patton had found Virgil hiding in the dark corner, trying to calm racing thoughts that wouldn’t shut up. Patton had held his hand, talking quietly, and gotten him to start listing what he could see and feel. Virgil had confessed that he’d never tried those strategies before. Patton had hugged him tight to make up for all the times he hadn’t been there.

Roman had put a shirt on, at last, to go find food after training. Following his nose, he spied jam tarts cooling on the counter and slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Cautiously, he went to take a treat, only to get his hand slapped by a mixing spoon. Virgil’s glare made him smile sheepishly.

“Just one?”

“If you want to explain to the full Noble’s Council why their pastry tray isn’t perfectly arranged, then yes, you may have ‘just one,’” the pastry chef complained. “You know we have regular food down here, too.”

Roman sighed dramatically. “But without pastries, how will I survive? How will I live? I beg of you, take pity on me!”

“Then beg,” Virgil responded flatly. Then he made the mistake of making eye contact with the knight and snorted, falling into true laughter. “I’m making regular jam cookies later, Ro. Come back in the afternoon, I’ll keep some on the side for you. These are just the nice ones, kay?”

Roman grinned. “This is why you’re the coulis-t person I know, Virge.”

Virgil groaned in response. “I never should have taught you proper pastry terms. Talyn has some sliced ham and rolls in the next room, go beg from them, alright? I need to finish decorating.”

The knight gave a small mock of a bow and obeyed.

He and Virgil hadn’t always been so friendly. As a young man arriving to the castle for knight training, he’d haunted the kitchens every waking moment. The idea of a full belly was still exciting to a boy whose farm had struggled with droughts for almost half his life. But his sister and her husband had taken over the farm, and he’d been picked out for his strength to become a fighter.

He’d spent his first month in the castle sneaking into the storerooms at every given opportunity, eating anything he thought he could get away with. The kitchen helper, who was about his age, perhaps a year younger, had caught him first in the middle of the day, despite the lunch rush, then in the dead of night. How had he even been awake?

Roman was self-conscious of his hunger, surrounded by all that wealth, and lashed out at the creepy cookie who kept turning up when he least expected it.

But then, one quiet afternoon, he’d been sure the kitchens would be entirely empty. It was the rest period, so surely the safest time for a quick snack. Walking cautiously, he’d rounded the corner, only to see Virgil, covered in flour and butter stains as he carefully plaited a pie crust into a sheaf of wheat. The serenity of his concentration, the clear ease that came with no kitchen madness around him, and his proud smile as he successfully sealed his pastry forced Roman to see him in a new light. He’d cautiously come forward and complimented a job well done. One would think he’d actually seen a field of wheat, once!

The other man had nearly jumped out of his skin at first, but had then calmed enough to wave off the compliment with a smile. They’d had an actual conversation for the first time ever, and hundreds more soon followed. A strange friendship, perhaps, one that was tested every time Virgil made homemade jam for a treat that Roman wasn’t allowed to eat, but a strong friendship all the same.

Roman often wished he was able to show his love for Patton more openly, so that he could introduce the prince to the friends he’d made in the castle.

As he got into uniform to begin an official day as Patton’s protector, Roman spared a sigh for an old friend he’d yet to find here in the capital city. Growing up in a small farming community on the furthest borders of the kingdom, Roman had known only his siblings and parents until a new family moved into the plot next door. Their house burst with children, but there was one boy his age, one who viewed his very energetic siblings with a world-weary eye, even at seven years old.  But Roman, the youngest by a huge age gap, was lonely, and jumped at even a stick-in-the-mud as a potential playmate.

Their parents saw Logan and Roman’s friendship as oil and water, yelling matches during chores, long arguments that stretched through the harvest. But their clashes only showed how well-matched they were, how their competition forced them both to improve. Logan brought home books from the headwoman’s private library and introduced Roman to classics and plays, if only so they could immediately argue about the proper interpretation. More than one winter’s night found them in one of the barns with Roman leaping around a makeshift stage in an effort to prove how dramas were meant to be seen, not read.

But then, Logan left. The headwoman knew how much his parents struggled through the droughts with so many mouths to feed, and saw Logan’s innate brilliance. She found an opportunity for him to receive room and board in the capital city itself, and he’d be able to receive the best education Solarya had to offer. It was everything he could have wanted - except, he couldn’t bring his friend. Roman couldn’t leave his farm, anyway - his older brother was serving in the army, his sister had married and moved, and there was no one else to help his parents.

“Lo, I promise, someday I’ll come join you! You’ll see!”

“Roman, while I hope you’re correct, do not make promises you may never be able to keep. It is enough to say that we will try to reunite one day.”

They were standing at the gate, waiting for the coach that would take Logan and his few worldly possessions away, when Roman impulsively hugged the other boy. “I’ll miss you, Logan.”

The eleven-year-old stiffened, then hesitantly hugged back. “I… will miss you as well, Roman.”

Logan hadn’t expected the capital to be so overwhelming. Obviously there would be more people, but why was it so loud? Did more people in one space mean everyone needed to shout all the time? Even inside the castle, there was ambient sound everywhere. He didn’t find his first moment of peace until he was shown to the library. And the quiet of the room couldn’t compare to the symphony of excitement in his brain. Who knew there were so many books? So much knowledge to be unlocked! He was about to dive in when the closing door behind him caught his attention.

“Hello there!” a cheerful voice said in a very energetic library whisper. “You must be Logan!”

Turning, he caught sight of a jovial-looking man in the robes of a Royal University scholar. Round glasses balanced atop a long nose above a huge smile. “I’m Dr. Picani, your tutor. Do you how do?”

Logan stared. This man was not at all what he’d pictured as the most-respected professor in the kingdom. And what was that last sentence? He recognized all the words, but not in that order.

“Uh, hello?” he murmured back. “Yes, I’m Logan. I… sorry, you’re my tutor?”

“You betcha!” the happy man replied. “Not yours alone, of course. We’ll be sharing our time with one other student, who should arrive any second. Let’s go to the study room, shall we?”

He led the way to a small room that contained even more books in addition to a huge slate hung on the wall and two tables with a handful of chairs. Logan sat, still a bit dazed.

Barely a moment had passed before a rap sounded on the door. Dr. Picani opened it to reveal a huge soldier with a no-nonsense expression. “Dr. Picani. His Highness for his lessons.”

The professor nodded, and the soldier stepped aside to reveal a boy a bit younger than Logan. He had clean golden curls and wore a silk tunic. Logan was immediately uncomfortable. Sharing a class with a noble? Who’d probably be much smarter and resentful of sharing a class with a less-educated commoner? He looked down at the wood grain of the table, swallowing disappointment with the reality of what had appeared to be all his dreams coming true.

“Hiya!” a voice cut through. “I’m Patton, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Logan,” he replied, looking up once more.

“Nice to meet you Logan! I’ve never seen you in the castle before, are you new?”

“Yes, I just moved to the city.” Logan decided to not mention where he’d come from - better not give this noble any more reason to look down on him, no matter how strangely friendly he appeared to be. “I presume you’ve lived here for many years?”

“Since I was born! Not that I remember it exactly. Or really anything until I was three. Maybe I only moved here then? No but Dad says we’ve always been here so that’s probably right…”

Logan stared at the other young man as he happily chattered away. Was this what all nobles were like? The few who’d ridden through his hometown had barely made eye contact, let alone talked to commoners like normal people.

“Your Highness, maybe we better start the lesson?” Dr. Picani interjected with a smile.

Logan’s eyes grew huge in his face as he stared at the boy next to him. The guard had said it too - was this really the Prince of Solarya? Yes, Logan knew the Prince was named Patton, but it had become a very popular name in short order since the royal family chose it. The heir to the entire kingdom was grinning bashfully up at their shared tutor, practically still bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

The capital city was bizarre. But seeing the eager smiles on both his tutor’s and the prince’s faces, Logan realized he was probably going to have to get used to it.

As he neared his eighteenth birthday, Prince Patton was pulled into a small audience with his father and the vizier. Both men were stern.

“Prince Patton, why have you been neglecting your deportment classes?”

Patton winced - he’d hoped they wouldn’t notice. “Actually, Father, I have been using that time to learn more about my future kingdom and subjects-”

“You mean you’ve been spending excess time with your servants,” Duke Lyle cut in. Patton fell quiet, seeing his father’s frown deepen.

“Patton, you’re the crown prince; one day, you’ll be king. Our entire country’s fate will be in your hands. But the throne is only as strong as the respect our people have for it. If the prince himself doesn’t exercise proper decorum, doesn’t maintain the acceptable boundaries between liege and vassal, then no one will. Order will disintegrate, and every noble house in our realm will be affected. Now that you are coming of age, you must end these distractions, before another day passes.”

“But Father-”

“No buts, Prince Patton. My decision is final. If you cannot treat those who serve us in the proper manner, and insist on treating them as peers, I will be forced to dismiss them entirely.”

Patton felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. He was to lose his friends, then, no matter what he did. At the very least, he would not cost them their livelihoods.

“Very well, Father. I will do as you ask.”

Duke Lyle watched, eyes glittering in victory, as Patton left his father’s study and slowly trudged up the tower steps to his room.

Patton’s birthday arrived, and he was officially presented to the realm as the now-adult heir, no longer just the son of the king but now the official Crown Prince and king-to-be. He performed his role in the pageantry well, smiling and appearing solemn in the appropriate moments. He greeted dignitaries who brought well-wishes, he listened to subjects’ petitions as they appealed to his father, and he did his best to follow the deliberations of his father’s council of advisors. But under his polite mask, he was miserable.

Without his friends, he was alone in a world filled with adults who expected him to carry himself with all the dignity of a royal, yet did not listen to a single suggestion he made. Without the ability to visit Logan in the library, or Virgil in the kitchens, Patton’s days started to blend into one another as he was sent from meeting to audience to meal to meeting.

He begged his father to at least let him visit the city. “I won’t forget my position, Your Majesty. But I wish to be visible to them, at least. Please?”

King Thomas weighed his son with his eyes, then relented. “You may, then. But you’ll need a guard with you at all times.”

Patton deflated the slightest bit. “I suppose that would be most proper, wouldn’t it. One of the castle guards, then?”

Duke Lyle piped up, “Your Majesty, now that the Prince is of age, he ought to have a personal contingent of guards, shouldn’t he?”

The king nodded. “Indeed. There are a number of promising knights who might perform the job quite well.”

Patton was able to even smile naturally at both men. Having to keep the common folk at arm’s length wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d be able to talk to them. And having a knight-guardian would mean he’d at least have companion, if not a friend.

“Your Royal Highness,” Duke Lyle spoke up. “It has come to my and His Majesty’s attention that your silver jubilee is approaching.”

“My what?”

“You turn 25 this year, son,” the king answered. “When I was your age, I had been married a year, and you, my first child, had been born. It is time we look into marriage for you.”

“Father, Duke Lyle, I hardly think such a thing is necessary, not when Father is in such good health-”

“This is not just for the purpose of heirs and lineage, your Highness,” the vizier said smoothly. “Through your marriage, we can make an alliance, or settle tensions with noble houses in our realm or our neighbors’.”

Patton twisted hands in his tunic, hoping neither man noticed. How could he bear to marry another, when Roman’s love was all he wanted or sought? But they’d never approve, or allow such a thing.

“For instance,” the duke continued, his tone one of careful detachment, “the great house of Sanders has a son about your age. His parents are actively searching for an eligible match for him. And of course, they would never want to match him with someone entirely outside his preferences, just as we never would for you, Prince.”

“There are also some younger sons in neighboring kingdoms who could potentially make for a good alliance, but securing the support of House Sanders would be my preference,” the king added.

“I, uh, I thank you, your Majesty, your Grace. May I be excused to think on these options?”

“Of course, son. We will resume at another time.”

Patton walked outside quickly. Pushing through the door into the hall, he came face-to-face with Roman, who was smiling at him with that same gorgeous light in his eyes that always set the butterflies in his stomach a-flutter. But now the butterflies were sluggish and frail, disintegrating into a nauseating goo.

“Roman, can you come to my room? We need to talk,” Patton said. His normal smile quivered as he looked around the hall for observers.

“Of course, dearheart,” Roman said warmly, leading the way. He was so graceful in all his movements that Patton’s heart burned just to watch him walk away.

“Roman, my rose, it’s my father, and the vizier. They… want me to marry. A political marriage. One who just so happens to be Duke Lyle’s nephew. The young Baron Remington of House Sanders.”

Roman stiffened, then smiled sadly. “We knew it would come to this, did we not? We dared to love, knowing the impropriety of it, but we dared all the same. Sunshine, I would never interfere with your duty. I will always guard you, with my heart and my life, but if you must needs marry this noble, I will not stand in the way.”

“You wouldn’t resent it?”

“Would I pine and sorrow for my misfortune?” Roman asked, kissing Patton’s hand softly, then holding it against his own cheek. “Of course I will. I’ll curse my ill luck in being born common, cry fie upon the stars for separating us by our lineage. But I could never resent you, dearheart. Nor can I regret having the chance to have known you and loved you these past six years, not when I treasure each adoring glance and each kiss as dearly as I treasure my life. I only ask that you allow me to remain your vassal and guard, to hold you safe when I cannot hold you close.” Patton melted, hearing Roman’s rich, caramel-sweet voice speak such tender words of devotion. He leaned in to kiss the knight’s affectionate words while they lingered on his lips, and in that moment made a decision.

“Roman, I am to be king, am I not?”

“You’re already the king of my affections, but yes, you will be king of Solarya too, in time.”

“And the king’s rule of Solarya is absolute.”

“As it has been since the Sun herself named the first monarch, yes.”

Patton nodded. “If I’m to be the absolute ruler in the future, I can’t let anyone push me around with edicts that go against my heart and conscience.”

Roman caressed his prince’s cheek with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I won’t be coerced into marrying for politics when it necessitates a revolt against my affections. I will refuse to marry Baron Sanders.”

Roman felt his heart galloping in his chest as he met Patton’s shining, determined eyes.

“Patton, do you mean…?”

“Yes, my dear knight. Please, if you’ll have me…” He sank to one knee in front of Roman, keeping their hands clasped. “Sir Roman, will you marry me?”

Roman felt tears leaking out the edge of his eyes as he smiled so wide that his cheeks started to ache. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, Prince Patton. I have been and always will be yours. Yes, I will marry you, dearest sweet.”

Patton found he was tearing up as well Roman pulled him up to stand with him. Brushing his cheek with light fingers, Patton kissed his now-fiancé thoroughly. As the kiss suddenly turned salty from spilled tears, both men started to giggle. Roman felt his breath catch in his chest, watching the afternoon sun catch Patton’s curls as he threw his head back to laugh. The knight pulled his prince back to him, tasting the sound of laughter on his love’s lips.

“Father. I am not going to marry the Baron. I will be marrying my guard, Sir Roman.” The king stared in shock as his son continued, doors still hanging open from him barging into the king’s private study. “I will be also inviting my old friends from within the castle to our wedding. You may rule as you wish while you continue on the throne, but my reign will not be so divided between classes.”

The vizier, in his customary place by the king’s side, found his voice. “Your Highness, this is all highly-”

“‘Highly improper’? Yes, your Grace, I’m sure it is. And I plan to do it all the same.”

“Your Majesty, you must intercede-”

King Thomas turned to face his chief advisor. “Lyle, you know I value your judgment and advice, but it’s true. Patton will determine his own ruling style. I won’t undermine it, through marriage or otherwise.”

The duke tried once more. “Perhaps, then, a small, private ceremony within the castle?”

“No, your Grace. I am not ashamed of my fiancé nor his status. It will be a full state wedding.”

And it was.

The day dawned bright and sparkling. Keepers of the royal dovecote prepared the white feathery creatures for the grand finale. Footmen laid yards and yards of carpet along the aisle and lined up the benches and chairs of the interior ceremony, while even more footmen and maids displayed bouquets down and out of the public audience doors where the rest of the crowd would watch.

In the office that had been taken over as the central location for the wedding planning, Patton knelt to be on eye level with his floral consultant. “Is everything in order?”

“Yup!” Val responded with a grin the displayed a missing front tooth.

“Even the crowns?”

“You don’t get to see them yet!” she responded, sticking out her tongue. “No peeking!”

Patton grinned and kissed her hand. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands then!” Standing, he exchanged a quick hug and kiss on the cheek with Teresa. He’d commissioned them to arrange every single flower for their celebration, with the full power of the royal treasury behind them. Looking around this room, still filled to bursting with lovely blooms and wreathed in a rich bouquet of scents, he knew he’d made the right choice.

He left and went through the kitchens.

There was Virgil, head pastry chef, forehead creased in concentration as he directed the last details of the grand wedding cake, as a helper delicately placed a sugar-spun rose on the top. The chef turned and caught the eye of the prince with a shy grin. Patton mirrored it and flung himself forward to hug the man.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Virgil.”

“Hey, it was royal duty and all that, right? Knowing you wanted us back, and to be part of your wedding - how could I say no? Even if it is to that lunkhead of a knight.”

“Excuse you!” Roman said, entering with an offended gasp.

Virgil smirked and hugged Roman as well. “Oh good, I didn’t want to talk about you behind your back. Always better to call you a simpleton to your face.”

Roman grinned. “I’d expect nothing more from my favorite marzi-pain. You’re going to be free for the ceremony, right?” He slipped his hand into Patton’s, still getting a tingle of excitement from being so open in front of others.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up here. Is L-, uh, is Logan getting pulled away from his books too?”

“We twisted his arm, or rather, Patton asked very kindly and possibly offered to increase the library budget. So yes.”

“Why, is there a reason you’d perhaps like our resident scholar to be present?” Patton asked in his blandest-possible court voice.

Virgil ducked his head in response and said nothing, but Roman and Patton made eye contact as they both noticed the tiny smile playing across their friend’s lips.

A servant popped his head through the kitchen door. “Your Highness! And Knight-Captain! Thank goodness. We’re getting close to the ceremony, we need to get you both ready!”

The fiancés squeezed their linked hands once more before following the servant out, waving to Virgil as they left.

Royal fanfare sounded as a string quartet began to play processional music. King Thomas stood at the altar as  Duke Lyle attempted to conceal his glower in his place at the king’s elbow. They looked with the rest of the audience as people from the city, the guard, and the castle turned in their seats. Two aisles curved on either side of the seating area.

As gentle tones played, young women strode down the carpeted aisles, sprinkling flower petals. One wore light pink and purple under a blonde updo, and the other in blue and white under a matching hairdo in light brunette. Patton and Roman emerged in their wake from separate entrances. Virgil and Logan, in matching slate-grey suits, accompanied each fiancé as they paced deliberately down the aisle. Roman wore a custom dress uniform, a beautiful work in red and white, accented with gold filigree. The seal of the ancient House of Solarya had been reworked into his own flattering colors. His auburn hair was perfectly curled and shone in the sunlight. But it was nothing compared to the blaze of his smile as he neared his beloved Prince.

Patton gripped Virgil’s elbow tight as he strove to keep his steps in time with the music. The prince had kept the pomp of his station for the ceremony itself, but when it came to his own person, his modesty shone through. He did not wear the silken doublet and hose of the royal family, nor the yards-long cloak. He had chosen to leave off even a modest tiara or circlet to show his rank. Instead, he dressed in the finery of his citizens: tailored long jacket and long pants in his signature light blue. In his lapel, a rose as red as cherries in summer was affixed proudly, mirroring the lovely sprig of hydrangea pinned to Roman’s sash.

At last, both journeys down the aisle were complete, as Roman and Patton came face-to-face at the aisle. Taking his hands, Patton smiled so wide his face was practically split in two. The musicians finished on a last sweet note as King Thomas stood forward to officiate.

“Ladies, lords, nonbinary nobility, and all our treasured friends of Solarya,” he spoke, his strong voice projecting out the open public doors to the waiting public beyond. “Thank you, one and all, for joining us on a day of such bliss for our family. Our son and heir, Prince Patton, means today to wed Sir Roman, Knight-Captain of the Castle Guard. We are beyond proud of our son, and bless this union wholeheartedly. They have prepared their own vows.” The king stepped back, bowing their head. Virgil, far too close to the current head of the nation for his comfort, was startled to spot the king wiping away a single happy tear that coursed down the royal cheek.

“Dearest Patton,” Roman began, clearing his throat. “Whether near or far, I am always yours. I was content to be your guardian from all the world. Now, I pledge to be your champion, protecting your person, your throne, and your heart. I will tell you each morning those qualities of yours that I’ve fallen in love with, and I will never run dry as I fall in love more each day. From now until forever, dear sweet. I love you.”

Logan watched his childhood friend glowing with adoration and found his normal distaste with sentiment had entirely vanished. Or perhaps it had curled up in his throat and was the reason he now felt almost close to tears. He surreptitiously sneaked a glance as his fellow groomsman and saw Virgil’s shining eyes grow soft in his face as he watched the gentle kiss Roman planted on his beloved’s hand.

Patton carefully wiped an eye underneath his glasses and took his turn to speak. “My precious Roman. I feel as if I have loved you for a thousand years, and yet I know I will love you for at least a thousand more. Glorious knight, your courage takes my breath away, and your ideals alight a fire in my mind and heart. I pledge to never again be your liege, but your partner, equal in every sense. You will be no royal consort, but my king as I will be yours. From now until forever: I love you.”

At the prince’s pronouncement, Virgil watched Roman’s eyes widen. He risked a look behind to see a similar level of shock in the king’s eyes, and something that looked like speechless indignation in the Duke’s. It seemed Patton hadn’t told any besides his best men of his plan to elevate Roman to full royal status, including his husband-to-be.

But Roman recovered as Patton elegantly bowed to kiss his hand in return, and Teresa, glorious in a coppery gown, stepped forward with a mahogany box. Virgil and Logan walked to meet her as she flipped open the top, revealing two flower crowns nestled in a velvet bed. Tiny red roses and individual blue hydrangea flowerheads created two circlets as the best men removed them and set them upon the grooms’ heads. Long silken ribbons in gold connected the two crowns to each other, allowing room for Roman and Patton to turned to face the crowd. As the audience caught sight, there was a gasp followed by a roar of approval and joy. The binding crowns, as they were called, were part of the age-old Solaryan commoner marriage ceremony. Only the most progressive or least-connected noble houses had adopted the tradition that almost every other citizen of the country practiced. But now the citizens of Solarya watched as their crown prince stood with his husband in the finery they themselves had worn on their wedding days. And the delicate crowns sat where soon would lie the two crowns of their future kings.

King Thomas was barely able to speak through his delighted tears, but managed to squeak out: “Husband and husband!”

Roman took the opportunity to dip his love deep and kiss the prince in full view of the entire kingdom as white doves took flight and celebratory bells began to peal, bright and loud. They’d done it, in spite of all. They’d defied, class, norms, and propriety to declare and affirm their love to all who cared to see. A new age of Solarya dawned on the horizon, as bright as their patron Sun and just as warm.

#Roses Writes Fanfic #royality #royalty au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts roman #ts patton #fluff #so much fluff #like two seconds of angst and then all fluff #sunshine gays #my smol soft son #my smol drama son #background analogical #prince patton #knight roman #pastry chef virgil #librarian logan #//manipulative deceit #King thomas #jjdfgkdg #it's so HECKIN' FLUFFY #do it for dani

[anony-phangirl]

Not Gonna Fall For You

Chapter 6: Visiting Cherry Blossoms

Chapter Summary: The family vacation is about to come to an end. That being said, it’s the day before they leave Japan, and of course, saving the best for last, Charles and Katheryn Sanders end up taking the gang to the cherry blossom garden… But things end up getting real bad for the fake couple.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1500 + 116 = 1616 in total

Warnings: Swearing, along with a kiss at the end of this particular chapter - for this chapter

A/N: Alright, so back to it then! BE PREPARED!!! IT’S THAT SCENE WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL EVERYONE!!! THIS IS NOT A FLIPPING DRILL!!! MAN YOUR STATIONS PEOPLE!!!! :00

First | Previous | Next | Masterlist

— — — — —

Roman was nervous.

He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that something might go wrong. After everything good that’s happened in that week, he knew something was gonna happen, he got the same feeling when he went to London with his family just before Virgil’s break up. So what could this have meant? He didn’t know what to expect, but he’s hoping that it couldn’t be all too bad.

A knock on the door brought him back to reality, making him look up at the closed door.

“Boys, you ready yet?” He heard from behind the door. It was Mrs. Sanders.

“Uh, no! Not yet mom!” Virgil replied as he wore a shirt. “Almost!”

It was currently lunch time and they were all about to go eat somewhere before going to visit the garden of cherry blossoms.

“You ready Ro?” Virgil asked, glancing at Roman who was putting on his shoes.

“Almost.” He replied, smiling up at Virgil before resuming to getting ready.

This was going to be a bit of a looong day.

— — —

Virgil let out a sigh of cold breath, leaning into Roman.

They were currently in the bus, on their way to the Cherry Blossom garden.

“Alright kids, just remember! We will be here for the entirety of the day. Up til dinner as we will be eating there.” Charles said, just as they arrived. “If ya’ll leave before anyone else, please do inform us.”

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Welp, we’re here kids! Be sure to enjoy!” Katheryn said, smiling at the four boys as they all headed towards the entrance.

— — —

Virgil snapped a few pictures as he and Roman walked down the path.

The garden- thankfully didn’t have a lot of people… At least not yet.

“This place is big.” Roman said, looking around.

“I know right.” Virgil said as he glanced at Roman, snapping another picture of the scenery with Roman in it.

This cycle has been going on for quite some time now, with Roman making small talk, and Virgil taking pictures.

“You truly have a talent for photography Virgil.” Roman smiled as he stopped walking in front of a lake.

“Thanks.” Virgil replied, a light blush on his face as he snapped a couple of pictures of the lake. Once he finished, he glanced back at Roman to see him admiring a flower. “Find something you like?”

Roman glanced back at him, a fond smile on his lips and that look in his eyes.

“Just a flower…” He replied, picking one from it’s stem. “Reminded me of you…”

Virgil felt himself flush as Roman handed him the flower, he hesitated, but accepted it as Roman placed it behind his ear. It reminded him of that scene from Hercules.

“Was that even allowed?” Virgil asked as they began to head towards a bench that they saw near the lake.

Roman shrugged in response. “Dunno, but you look prettier with it.” He smiled, taking Virgil’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

“Why do you have to be so cheesy?” Virgil asked, covering his face with his other hand as they reached the bench.

“Well, as your fake boyfriend, I am obliged to treat you as a princess.” Roman responded as they sat on the bench, hands still clasped together.

“Is that why you carried me back to our hotel room when I told you I was tired after the Disney Sea trip?” Virgil asked, an eyebrow raised.

Roman nodded, before they looked out at the lake, silence taking over.

“Vi, do you mind? I want to take selfies with you…” Roman asked, glancing at him and breaking the silence.

“No, not at all!” Virgil smiled as Roman took out his phone.

A few more photos were taken, a couple with wacky poses and three where they were both laughing and one where they were just staring at each other, a certain look in their eyes.

Once they settled, silence fell between them again as the sun began to set. Virgil let out a sigh of content as he leaned into Roman, who smiled down at the slightly younger boy.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do this with someone I love…” Virgil spoke quietly. “I always thought that it would’ve been… Him…” Roman felt his heart break a little as Virgil paused. “But I’m glad it’s you…”

Roman smiled wider, wrapping an arm around Virgil as well. “I’m glad to share this moment with you too, Virgil.” Roman said before letting out a sigh of content.

And once again, silence fell between them. A nice type of silence that felt fitting towards the moment. Only, Virgil couldn’t shake his anxious thoughts away. He’d always tried burying said thoughts deep in his mind, but he can’t exactly shake this off anymore.

And yet, he didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment that he’s sharing with his best friend…

“What’s on your mind, my prince?” Roman asked, facing Virgil.

Virgil moved away from him, looking into his sincere gaze before letting out a sigh.

“What- what’s wrong with me Ro?” Virgil began. “Am I lacking? Am I not enough? Why did he-? We were happy, so fucking happy and he just had to up and ruin that… And I just can’t stop feeling that it was me who lacked something! I hate him Ro! I hate him so much…”

Virgil found that he was shaking, and he felt something staining his cheeks, it took a while before he processed that he was crying. And Roman pulled him in for a hug.

“Hey, shh… You aren’t lacking in any way Virgil. Lucas was an idiot for hurting you. You are an amazing person, a perfectly imperfect person, that has selfless flaws and is only looking to mend a broken heart.” Roman spoke softly, gently rubbing his back.

After a moment of soft sobs and silence, Roman slowly pulled away to look Virgil in the eyes, golden brown meeting blue-green, as he wiped the remaining tears away.

“S- Sorry for- for ruining the mo- moment…” Virgil spoke softly, as he hiccuped a few times, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh Vi, you didn’t ruin anything.” Roman gently said, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s completely fine. I don’t mind reminding you of how absolutely amazing you are.”

Virgil laughed, a genuine laugh, at that. “Yeah well, you’re not so bad yourself Princey.” Virgil replied as a smirk played on his lips, and his tears have stopped falling.

“Well, thank you, and did I mention that you are a beautiful crier?” Roman responded, making Virgil blush a little at the compliment.

“Oh shush you.” Virgil said, giggling as he playfully hit Roman’s shoulder.

“What? Not like it’s not true!” Roman chuckled, glad to have made Virgil smile again. “Okay, okay. Look, I’ll describe it to you…”

Roman then gently grabbed Virgil’s face, as the giggling and chuckles died down a little. Virgil felt his face heat up at the close proximity, while Roman brushed his bangs away to see both of his gorgeous eyes.

“Beautiful eyes…” He muttered, before snapping back to the task at hand.

“You have a lovely heart shaped face, with two close-lobed ears.” Roman began, his hands moving up to brush his hair behind his ears. “And an adorable button nose, with dimples to match whenever you smile that amazing smile of yours.” Roman said, bopping his nose before poking the sides of his cheeks, making him giggle again.

“Oh shut up…” Virgil interrupted, giggling a little more.

“What? It’s true! And your skin’s pale-complexion mixes well with the darkness of your hair.” Roman said, smiling at him as he glanced up at Virgil’s hair. “And I love the purple highlights that you’ve added to them.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” Virgil softly said, a small laugh escaping his lips again.

“Well, can you blame me? I love them… And not to mention those gorgeous blue-green eyes of yours…” Roman said, his voice getting softer as he stared straight into Virgil’s eyes, getting lost in the colors and the feelings hidden within them. “It’s like staring at a reflection of the sky from the sea, something I wouldn’t mind staring at for forever…”

“Did you really just- DEH that?” Virgil cut in, smiling at that.

“Maybe… But I’m being serious, about that. And your lips…” Roman said, his eyes moving down to look at Virgil’s lips. “Your pale pink lips, that any guy would be lucky to get a kiss from…”

At this point they were merely centimeters apart, and Virgil could feel the beating of his heart racing in his chest, he wasn’t sure what was happening, but he felt… Excited, and nervous. As he probably would if the guy he loves is about to kiss him… But he doesn’t know that.

“Virgil… May I..?” Roman softly asked, his voice only a little above a whisper. And with a small nod of agreement from the other…

Their lips met.

#ts-storytime #ts-storytime submission #ts-storytime 2018 submission #prinxiety #sanders sides #logicality #roman prince #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan quin

[truthfulstars]

Time Stops

“Time stops but still your heart is beating—time stops though you don't take a breath. She's there and all you've ever wanted is nearer, clearer…I used to think the world was small, now I don't think that way at all.”

There was something about a summer night in the Neverwinter Woods that couldn’t be refused— at least, as long as Rowan Thennis had been invited by his brother on behalf of the rangers. It was rare that the elven and human rangers teamed up, but the Drow were a common enemy, and one that needed as much manpower as possible. From what he had gathered from his twin brother’s letter, they’d been testing the defenses for about a month now, and it was going to have casualties if they didn’t nip it in the bud.

There was something electric in the air as runes were carved and painted around the camp— tongues, so the two parties wouldn’t have to bother with translation— and tents were set up. They’d take shifts for watch, the parties a mix of races in order to give them a better chance at seeing danger, and the elven leader— Dassar Naitecú— mentioned that he’d asked a nearby temple for assistance. If the intel was right, they wouldn’t have any Drow to deal with until the next day, but no one wanted to risk being caught unprepared.

He’d been relaxing by the fire, a flask in one hand, when the sound of horses caught everyone’s attention. For a moment, he saw nothing, but the excited greetings of a few elven men told him as much as he needed to know until the women came into view. The women were both wearing robes— the frontmost in blue silk, while the other wore silver— a strange symbol embroidered on their sashes. Clerics, he knew that much, and high ranking ones at that.

The woman in blue easily dismounted her horse, and Rowan immediately felt as if he should bow to her, his heart stalling as she looked over the group. Everything about her—from her robes to the silver circlet in her blonde hair—seemed almost regal as she stepped into the light, her footsteps silent. The trance he was in broke after what felt like years, the leader of the elven rangers laughing loudly before pulling her into a hug.

“Aurae, you brat, you’re late!” Dassar said, getting an annoyed look from the woman as he tousled her hair.

“We would have been early, but Ailred wanted to pray one last time to Sehaine before we left— it’s a waning crescent, and she’s nervous.” Despite her somber expression, she spared Naitëcu a smile before rolling her eyes, grabbing her own pack from the saddlebags.

“To everyone who doesn’t already know, this is my older sister— Aurae Naitëcu, Servant of Corellon Larethian, and a member of the Reverend Ones.” Dassar said, grabbing the rest of her things as he gave the horse a loving pat. “She and Ailred Ornthalas have been sent to help patch up anyone who needs more than a healing potion and a slap on the back, so be nice to them or they’ll throw you to the spiders.”

“You couldn’t wait to throw my titles in there, could you, Lieutenant?”

“It’s not every day your older sister finally gets accepted into The Reverend Ones after two hundred years of training— it’s about damn time!”

Rowan watched the siblings bicker back and forth, noticing how the smell of incense hung in the air long after she had left. He was so focused on them that he barely noticed a half-elven man sit next to his brother, offering Leon a drink as he settled back against the log they were leaning on.

“Ailred’s asked them to make the camp invisible to outsiders, just in case someone tries to ambush us tonight.” He said, motioning to the men already hurrying to start the ritual. “Apparently, they both have a bad feeling about tonight— enough that they’re gonna be praying to Sehaine Moonbow and Corellon Larethian until daybreak.”

Rowan could see the blonde woman in her tent, a small altar by the entrance. “What was that Revered Ones thing that Dassar talked about— some kind of clergy?”

“The Reverend Ones, Corellon’s army even in death, and the only kind of soldier that is just as helpful when dead as alive.” He replied, pointing out the insignia on the women’s saddlebags. “They both belong to the best of the best of elvenkind; warriors, archers, spellcasters, and everything in between that pledged themselves to The Protector. When they die, they’ll go to Arvandor like the rest, but their afterlife will be training for the day they need to go defend the elven people from a dangerous enough threat to warrant an army of ghosts… or whatever they’re gonna be. So far, there hasn’t been something so evil that he felt the need to send them in.”

“Sounds like a shitty way to spend your time in paradise.” Leon scoffed, glancing at the armor that the blonde woman had unpacked and left beside her altar.

“It’s the highest honor, and it comes with the highest cost.” The half-elf replied. “Either way, I’m glad that my Ma being human excluded me from it— I’d like to spend my days in Arvandor chugging wine and relaxing in the sun.”

Rowan was barely listening as they spoke, instead watching how the cleric moved around the tents, setting up what would become their makeshift hospital a week’s journey from the nearest healer. It was just as enchanting as it was worrying, the same energy from before renewed as dim moonlight filtered through the trees.

“I’m surprised you even heard the watch order with the amount of drooling you were doing.” Leon said hours later, skipping a rock across the surface of the creek. The two elven scouts with them had stopped to relieve themselves, and there was no use waiting around for them to finish. “Four skips.”

“Did you see that woman— the blonde with the crown on? Lathander’s dawn, it reminded me of that one cleric of Sune from Neverwinter, the one who was both beautiful and looked like she could crack your spine with one hit.” He skipped his own rock, giving Leon a short glance as it only skipped twice. “Five.”

“You fucking liar— and I remember you getting red in the face every time we saw her on our way to and from the market with our father.” Leon replied. “Don’t fuck with her, Ro, I don’t want to be the reason Dassar cuts ties with our squadron.”

“I don’t want to fuck with her, I just want to talk to her!” He insisted, ignoring his brother’s look of annoyance. “She’s— I don’t know, Lee, I want to bow to her and listen to her talk for hours and just be there with her. She’s… she’s something different.”

Something shifting in the forest caught their attention, ending the conversation as Rowan unsheathed his sword and Leon notched an arrow in his crossbow. The sounds of animals and insects had silenced, the only sounds coming from the two men’s heavy breathing as they tried to find the source.

A glassy figure caught Rowan’s eye moments before he was almost knocked over, a spider the size of his brother’s hunting dog on his chest. He felt something scratching at his side, a horrified scream breaking loose as he dropped his sword in order to try to break free. A heavy thunk and a shriek from the creature was the last thing he heard before he was being pulled away, a knife .

“Where the fuck did it go?” Rowan asked, head on a swivel as he looked around the dark forest.

“Phase Spider— fuck, I fucking hate spiders, especially these fuckers.” Leon hissed, his dagger dripping with blood.

Rowan cringed as he pressed his back against his brother’s, sword in hand once more as he tried to listen for the spider. There had been plenty near the caves back in Rothé Valley, a friendly reminder of the Drow that lived nearby.

“You’re a ranger in the Neverwinter Woods— how the fuck can you fight drow all day and still be scared of spiders?”

He asked as he heard another shifting sound, hands checking his sides where the spider had tried to get access to his skin.

“I dunno, Ro, something about a spider the size of a dog really turns me off!”

At that, he couldn’t help but laugh, looking over his shoulder at his twin’s pale face. “Well, thank Lathander you aren’t sexually attracted to the tarantula trying to eat us right—“

“Three o’clock!”

Rowan shifted to the right direction, sword ready as the spider shifted in and out of their vision. He did his best to block it’s next attack with his arm, the sound of metal clanging as the creature struck his plate armor, stabbing his sword into it as Leon unsheathed his dagger once more, preparing to jump in if he need to.

“Light the flare, Lee, I swear to the gods—“

“I’m fucking trying!”

He felt something give way in his armor moments before the spider disappeared, the straps of his armor severed by its fangs. “Fucking goddamn spider!”

“Did it bite you?” Leon asked, glancing over from his place on the ground, flint in his hand and the flare prepared on the ground.

“No, I’m—“ he was cut off as he checked himself over by a whistling sound, an arrow suddenly embedded in his ribs. He looked to where the arrow had come from, breathing unsteady as his legs gave out from under him. “Lee… light the flare.”

“Ro— shit, hang on!” The flare exploded into the sky, red light illuminating the forest as Rowan gripped his side, face paling as he began to convulse from the poison covering the arrow. “Keep your eyes open, I’ll get you some help.”

Rowan tried to listen to his brother, jaw clenched as his body began to fail him, his heartbeat poisoning in his head and drowning out the sound of harsh undercommon and fighting, his eyes closing as his brother’s hands gripped the wound on his side.

He didn’t open his eyes again until he noticed the sound of muttered elvish, the smell of incense and herbs bringing him back to consciousness. When he finally managed to sit up, he found himself in the medical tent, the blonde cleric from before kneeling at an altar. He watched her for a moment, smiling tiredly.

“I think Kelemvor made a mistake…” Rowan ground out, glancing at the elven cleric as she sorted through her supplies.

“You‘re fine, don’t worry.” She replied, barely giving him a glance as she lit the incense at the altar, the tongues spell from earlier translating a prayer of thanks to Corellon. “Your brother got you back in time that any damage will be reversed by the time you reach Neverwinter— it’s why I was sent here.”

Rowan laughed, slowly sitting up as carefully as he could after an arrow was buried in his ribs just hours ago. “No, you aren’t hearing me— I must’ve been sent to Arvandor, because I’m pretty sure I’m looking at a goddess right now.”

“Most of the Elven gods are genderfluid, or at least have the ability to change at will.” Aurae replied, looking at him quizzically.

“I wouldn’t mind one bit, as long as it’s you.”

For a moment, Aurae stared at him in confusion, before a smile spread across her face. NOW the penny drops. “Protector’s blood— and I thought I’d heard my fill of terrible one-liners in three hundred years.”

“Maybe share a drink with me when this is all over, I can come up with a better one.”

“Lie down, before you rip your stitches.” Although her voice was stern, there was still a spark of amusement in her silver eyes, the blue robes and insignia of The Reverend Ones not as imposing as before.

“That’s not an answer,” Rowan insisted, smiling weakly as he gripped his side. So, perhaps making himself laugh with part of an arrowhead still in his ribs wasn’t the best idea, but he’d do it over and over again in order to see her smile again.

“If you go to sleep, I’ll think about it.”

She handed him a drink, his eyes heavy almost the moment it touched his lips. There were thousands of things he wanted to say as he slipped back into unconsciousness, the feeling of her hand on his shoulder the last thing he recognized as he closed his eyes. ”Wait… for… me.”

Aurae gently brushed the hair out of his eyes, covering him with a blanket her brother’s rangers had brought as his breathing evened. His brother was outside, most likely going to want to see him the next time he woke up. She gave the man an amused look, opening the tent up to his friends. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

#the slave; mylvera thennis #technically its about her parents meeting #but its how she eventually came to be #also side note her dad was hella bi and her mom was as well #we stan all bisexuals even ones in het relationships #d&d 5e #d&d fic