#when i had the idea to put virgil in a skirt i had to stop typing to happy stim

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Before I Go

Chapter One

AO3 Link

Chapter Six:

Clarissa called the next morning, annoyed that Roman had now forgotten to call her again, and Roman offered a half-hearted apology, trying to feel anything but exhaustion, and relief that she wasn’t standing in front of him while she was yelling at him.  Janus was up before Remus again, and sat in the living room while they talked, listening to the whole conversation with a raised eyebrow.

Roman eventually got off the phone and leaned back against the wall with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, you two seem like you have a lovely relationship,” Janus said.

“Can you like. Not?” Roman asked.  “Are we doing something loud and distracting today?”

“I think Remus wanted to catch up with Virgil some more.  Wasn’t he going to introduce you two?”

Roman rubbed his eyes.  “Right, yeah,” he muttered.

“He’ll probably do that at a gay bar, you know,” Janus said.  “Just as a heads up.”

Roman looked over to see Janus smiling in slight amusement, and narrowed his eyes.  “Gee, thanks.”

“Any time,” Janus said, smiling wider as he picked up his philosophy book and flipped it open.  “Do let me know how it goes.  I’m always down to talk boys.”

“I’m not— shut up,” Roman snapped, turning towards the kitchen so he could make breakfast.

Janus chuckled in amusement but didn’t say anything else.

Roman had just finished his own breakfast as Remus started moving around loud enough for Roman to hear it, so he put another two pieces of toast in the toaster and turned the dial all the way up before sitting down to eat.  Remus showed up not long after the toast had popped up and Roman was putting it on a plate.  He’d made the orange juice earlier on, so he pushed Remus’ glass with the extra pulp over to him too.

“Thanks Ro!” Remus said brightly, seeming in a much better mood than he had been last night.  He took a couple bites of his toast and then drank half a glass of the orange juice in one go, then turned to face Janus in the living room.

“Hey Jay!  You’re coming with us tonight!”

Janus set the book down and turned to stare at Remus.  “What?”

“When Roman and Virgil meet!  You’re coming too!”

Janus blinked.  “Uh, no.  No I’m not.”

“Yes you are, I’m dying.”

Janus growled in frustration.  “Remus!”

“Sorry, I just told Roman you’d be there, so that’s happening now, and it’s done, and we’re doing it!”

“Roman’s sitting right there!”

Remus turned a did a mock jump like he’d just noticed him.  “So he is!  Hi Roman!”

“Uh, I really don’t want to be in the middle of this—”

“Too bad, I’m dying.”

“That’s not— you know I’m kind of with Janus on that one, that doesn’t seem fair—”

“We’re all going!  It’ll be great!” Remus called, then turned and took another bite of toast like that ended the conversation.

Janus gave a growl of obvious annoyance and stood up, taking the philosophy book with him into their bedroom and slamming the door.

“Uh,” Roman said, turning to look back towards Remus.  “Why are you trying to piss him off?”

“Because he and Virgil need to talk,” Remus said.

“There’s probably a way to do that without pissing him off though?”

Remus snorted, then paused to cough.  Roman debated for a second whether patting him on the back would be helpful or just annoy him.

Remus stopped coughing before he could decide.  “Trust me,” he said, giving Roman a look.  “There isn’t.”

“…Okay then,” Roman said hesitantly.  “So when do we leave tonight then?”

…

Unlike last time, Remus insisted that Roman get dressed up, and gave him a variety of options from his closet.  Roman picked the ones that looked the least out there, which wasn’t saying much.  He ended up in a sparkly shirt and way-too-short shorts, but the other options Remus gave him consisted of skirts and sequins.  He barely managed to shut down the makeup idea.

Remus did, however, manage to convince Janus to go all out, meaning Janus showed up in a dark skirt and large hat and fancy gloves.

“I figured this was the kind of stuff you’d want us to wear to the first drag show you took me to,” Roman said, when Remus showed up in a sparkly green tutu and fishnet stockings.

“Nah, I was easing you in slowly,” Remus said with a shrug.

“…What?  Why?  Since when do you do that?”

“Don’t worry about it.  Just know next time, I’m not letting you get out of the makeup,” Remus said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Roman winced.  “God.  Thanks for the mental preparation.”

“Anytime!” Remus said with a bright grin.  Then the next second, he paused and coughed a couple times into his elbow.

“Oh no, you don’t sound so good, sounds to me like we should stay home,” Janus deadpanned, even as he picked up a purse from the table.

“Nice try,” Remus said.  “You’re not getting out of talking to Virgil.”

Janus sighed, but picked up the car keys, and all of them headed for the door.

Since it still wasn’t exactly the safest to go out in public like that, they all put on long coats over their outfits as they headed out to the car.  Even then, though, Roman still felt like everyone was staring at him.

His chest loosened slightly once he made it into the car and out of the parking lot, but not by much, and the fact that they were planning to leave all the long coats in the car when they got there wasn’t helping.  Janus slid into the driver’s seat without much comment to him, but Remus opened the door to the back seat and jabbed Roman in the side.

“Scoot,” he said.

Roman gave him an irritated look, but did.

“Remus, are you okay?” Janus asked, glancing back from the front seat.

“Yep!  I’m gonna ride back here, you’re good to head out.”

Janus didn’t say anything for a minute, but finally started the car without a word.

Remus leaned up into the front seat and turned on the radio, then turned the music up loud and sat back, with the obvious intention of giving them some privacy.

He faced Roman as Janus started pulling away.  “I’m gonna teach you something.”

“Uh, okay?”

“Breathe in,” Remus said.  Roman did, giving him a confused look.

Remus waited for a moment while he did, then told him, “Okay, now hold it.”

After Roman did for a longer stretch of time, Remus said, “Breathe out slow.”

Roman did, but when he stopped, Remus just told him to breathe in again and started it over.

They repeated the same thing a couple times, and Roman wasn’t sure what exactly Remus was waiting for, but eventually he seemed to find it, because he sat back and gave Roman a knowing look.  “Feeling better?”

Roman paused, took stock, and realized that he did.  “Uh, yeah.  How did you do that?”

“Virgil taught me that one,” Remus said.  “You breathe in, hold your breath for longer than you breathe in, and then breathe out for longer than you hold your breath.  It’s supposed to help you calm down.”

Roman looked down at his hands.  “Thanks,” he muttered.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Remus said, leaning his shoulder against Roman’s.

“You don’t know that,” Roman said before he really thought it through.  “What if someone sees us, or something happens, or word gets out somehow—”

Remus reached over and covered his mouth, and Roman jerked back.

“Don’t do that, I don’t know where your hands have been,” Roman muttered.

Remus leaned closer until Roman caught his gaze again.

“What?” Roman asked.

“So what?” Remus said pointedly.  “So what if someone sees?”

Roman stared at him.  “Remus,” he said.  “I don’t want anyone to see.”

“Why not?”

Roman shook his head.  “I don’t want anyone to know—”

“Who?  Mom and Dad?  Clarissa?”

Roman looked away.  “Well, yeah.”

“You don’t even like Clarissa.”

“Remus!”

“And I don’t just mean romantically, I mean you don’t even like her as a person.”

“Remus!”

“Am I wrong?”

Roman bit his lip and didn’t say anything.

“And Mom and Dad,” Remus continued, “are pieces of shit.  You’d be better off without them.”

“How do you know?”

Remus gave him a deadpan look.  “Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

Roman looked away.  “It’s different than what happened with you.”

“Why, because you’re never planning on telling them?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut.  “Remus.”

“Roman,” Remus said, tugging on Roman’s arm a couple times until Roman looked at him again.  “Listen to me.  I am far, far happier here like this than I ever would have been staying there in the closet.”

Roman looked at him for a second.  “You’re dying.”

Remus narrowed his eyes.  “I said what I said.”

Roman shook his head.  “I’m not like you,” he whispered.  “I can’t— you’re so… much.”  He didn’t mean it in a bad way in the slightest.  And from the look on Remus’ face, he got that.

“Ro,” he said.  “You know there’s a whole community full of people who understand being just as scared as you, right?  You wouldn’t be alone.  You wouldn’t have to do any of it alone.  Hell, I’d love to be there for you.”

Roman blinked quickly a couple times.  “You’re dying,” he whispered again.

Remus didn’t say anything for a minute, and then he reached over and pulled Roman to his side, and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Roman’s head.

And despite how he really didn’t know where Remus’ hands had been, and how completely unfair it was that Remus was the one comforting him right now, Roman let him.

…

Virgil is sitting at their usual booth when they arrive, and wow, that takes Remus back.

He can tell Janus notices too, though he seems much more irritated by it.

Virgil hasn’t seen them yet, so Remus takes a moment to jab Janus in the side, and meets his frustrated glare with a determined frown.

Janus scoffs and glares the other direction, and Remus narrows his eyes and jabs him in the side again.

“Play nice,” he says.

“I don’t want to,” Janus hisses.

“I don’t care.”

Janus groans and turns to face him.  “Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Me?  You’re the one refusing to hear him out the second he doesn’t start with ‘I’m so sorry please forgive me for everything I’ve ever done!’”

“He should apologize.”

“He was going to.  He still will if you could be patient for three seconds and let him work his way up to it.  He’s Virgil.  It’s you.  He needs time to work his way up to it.”

Janus rolls his eyes.  “And I’m supposed to care about his needs?”

Remus throws his hands up.  “Fucking hell, Janus.  Could you make yourself sound like any more of an asshole?  I don’t want to punch you in the face enough yet!”

“Remus, I swear—”

“Uh hey,” Roman says, waving in front of their faces to grab both of their attentions.  “Virgil’s staring at all of us now.”

Remus turns to see Roman is right, and Virgil is looking over at them, wide-eyed.

Remus turns back to Janus, jabs him in the side one last time, says, “Play nice,” and then walks over towards Virgil.

“Hi Virgil,” Remus says with a grin, sliding into the seat across from him.  “I like your skirt, thanks for sticking to the theme!”

“Anytime,” Virgil says, though he looks down at his skirt rather self-consciously.

A second later Janus and Roman approach, and Virgil glances up at them.

“Uh, hey Janus,” he says, as Janus sits down next to Remus without any acknowledgement of him.  Virgil’s gaze sours a second later as he shifts his gaze to Remus’ brother.  “Roman.”

Remus bangs his head down on the table.  “I can’t fucking take you three anywhere.”

“Uh— sorry,” Roman says.

Remus pulls his head up.  “Sit down,” he says, nodding at the space next to Virgil.

Roman clearly looks very uncomfortable, and Virgil clearly looks very unhappy with the seating arrangement, but sucks for him, Remus is sitting next to his boyfriend.

Roman sits down after a second, and Virgil scoots over in obvious annoyance but doesn’t say anything in protest.

“Anyway,” Remus says, still very much irritated with Virgil and Janus both.  “Roman this is Virgil, Virgil, you’ve heard me mention Roman, please focus your memory on the second half of my mentions for him which included all of the times I talked about how I had grown to understand where he was coming from and didn’t hold any grudges against him anymore.”

Roman shrinks down slightly in his seat.  Virgil sighs, repressing obvious anger, and turns to Roman.  “Hey.”

“Um, hi,” Roman says, giving him an awkward wave.

Virgil gives him a once over, which results in Roman sliding down in his seat more, but all that happens is Virgil leans his elbow on the table and gives him a nod.  “Nice shirt.”

“It’s, uh, one of Remus’s,” Roman says, looking down at it hesitantly, but not seeming nearly as bothered by it as he was earlier.

Virgil snorts.  “Yeah, that was obvious.”

“Oh my god,” Remus snaps, glaring at Virgil.  “Would you get over yourself?”

Virgil winces, his gaze softening as he looks towards Remus.

“Roman is my brother,” Remus says.  “You don’t have a stake in this.  Can you let it go please so we all can try to enjoy the evening?”

Virgil looks away, and Remus can see a couple emotions warring on his face before he sighs.

“Yeah,” he says.  “Alright.”

Remus can tell Janus is listening next to him too, though he hasn’t said anything much.  Remus nudges him in the side, less harshly than he did earlier.

Janus turns and looks at him, and Remus raises an eyebrow.

Finally, something seems to drain out of Janus, and he nods.  “Alright,” he says quietly.

Remus lets out a sigh of relief.  “Thank you,” he says.  “Now who wants to sing karaoke with me first?”

Janus snorts, shaking his head and at least looking more like himself.  “Sorry, but you can’t make me,” he says, giving Remus a smile.  “There’s other people here now, I get to pass off this go around.”  He pauses for a second after he speaks, and gives Remus that look when he sees something neither of them like.  “And are you sure you’re up for it?” he asks.

Remus promptly ignores his look and blows a raspberry at him.  “Yes, shush.  Virgil, what do you say?”

Virgil’s eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights.  “Uh,” he says weakly.  “Can I cite the social anxiety?”

“Ugh, neither of you are any fun.  Alright, Janus, order my usual from Mandy.  Roman, you’re up.”

“I— I really don’t know if I want to—” Roman says hesitantly.

“Sorry, everyone else already said no which means you no longer have a choice in the matter,” Remus says, nudging Janus out of the booth so he can get out.

“Oh that is so not how that works,” Roman grumbles.

Remus manages to wiggle out of the booth and moves over to grab Roman’s arm, yanking him to his feet.

“Come let out your inner gay theatre kid Roro,” he says with a grin.

Roman opens his mouth, but Remus drags him away before he can get a chance to speak.

“They need a chance to talk,” Remus says with a nod back at the table once they both make it further away.

Roman bites his lip and nods.

“Hey,” Remus says, smiling at him.  “Get out of your head, remember?  This’ll be fun.”

Roman takes a deep breath in, then holds it, and nods as he breathes out.  “Okay,” he says, giving Remus a small smile.

Remus grins, and pulls them both up towards the front of the bar where the karaoke machine is set up.  Remus gets a nod from the bartender to go right ahead, so he opens the song selection.

“Am I correct in assuming you’re very boring and don’t know any gay songs?” Remus asks Roman.

“Uh…”

“Cool.  We’ll do a boring mainstream one then,” Remus says, selecting ‘I Want to Break Free’ by Queen.

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Roman asks, giving him a deadpan look.

Remus wiggles his eyebrows as the music starts.

He opens his mouth and sings the first line, but immediately something feels off, and there’s a very noticeable tickle in his throat.

Nope.  Nope nope nope.  This isn’t happening tonight.

Remus ignores the tickle and keeps singing, looking over at Roman with a grin.  He finds Roman grinning out at the crowd, very obviously enjoying everyone starting to look over and cheer.

Remus catches his gaze after a second and wiggles his eyebrows again, and Roman rolls his eyes and lightly shoves him, but doesn’t stop singing as he does it.

Remus feels the tickle in his throat building.  He looks for Janus and Virgil in the audience, and sees them both looking up at him and Roman, seeming much more relaxed than they were earlier, but still not looking at each other.

Remus clenches his hands into fists and keeps going.  Not. Happening. Tonight.  Virgil and Janus are going to talk, and he’s going to stay up here with Roman and give him some kind of positive experience associated with being queer.  He’s not going to ruin it by—

Remus doubles over with coughs as they reach the first chorus, hacking into his elbow.

Roman instantly stops and turns to him, and the music keeps playing in the background as the rest of the bar goes silent, which is about the opposite of everything Remus wanted.

Remus manages a shake of his head and a glare up at Roman.  He makes the best “keep going,” gesture that he can manage, and when Roman crouches down in concern, he gives him a much firmer glare before turning again to cough into his elbow.

The next second, Remus feels a very familiar set of hands on his back, and lets Janus help him stand and make their way over towards the bathroom.

Thankfully, the bathroom is empty, so Janus doesn’t have much trouble helping Remus sit on the ground so he can keep coughing.  Janus rubs his back without saying anything, which is probably good, because Remus wouldn’t be able to respond to anything he did say.

No blood is coming out, thankfully, but Remus is fighting to draw in breaths, and he rather likes being able to breathe.

Finally, finally, he feels the coughs start to slow, and eventually he leans over and slackens in Janus’ arms, wheezing slightly.

Janus moves his hand up and starts running it through Remus’ hair.  “Are you okay?” he murmurs.

“Did Roman keep singing?” Remus asks.

Janus’ hand stills.  “What?”

“Roman.  He was supposed to finish the song.”

“He did, hon,” comes a familiar voice, and Remus pushes himself up to see Mandy has come in while he was coughing.  “He got everyone else to sing along too.  That brother of yours has some theatrical talent.”

Remus leans back against Janus again with a relieved sigh.  “Good,” he mumbles.  “At least he can fix the vibe I ruined.”

“Oh absolutely not,” Mandy says, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.  “You know half the people out there have known someone who’s died of AIDS, and the other half are dying of it themselves.  Don’t be ridiculous.”

Remus closes his eyes.  “Roman was supposed to have fun with that,” he says weakly.

“He did, hon.  I told you he got everyone singing again.  You didn’t ruin anything for him.”

“Who cares even if you did?” Janus snaps suddenly, and Remus looks up to find him glaring down at him.  “We’re not here for Roman.  All of us are here for you, you idiot.”

Remus doesn’t say anything.  He supposes that’s fair.  He’s not here for Roman either.

Remus reaches up and makes grabby motions at Janus’ face, then when Janus leans down enough, pulls it closer and kisses it all over.

“You’re my favorite boyfriend,” Remus says against Janus’ mouth.  He feels that same mouth turn up in a smile.

“I better be with all I do for you,” Janus says, kissing Remus back a couple times.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Mandy deadpans.  “And we have a no sex in the bathroom policy.”

“Damn.  Well I guess that spoils that plan,” Remus says.  “Cause otherwise I’d be stripping you right now, babe.”

“I’m right here,” Mandy repeats.

“Funny how you think that would stop me,” Remus says with a grin over at her.

Mandy rolls her eyes.  “You know what, I have to work anyway.  Come get me if you need help.”

“Will do,” Janus says as Remus leans back against him more heavily.  “Thanks, Mandy.”

Mandy’s gaze softens, and she gives a two fingered mini-salute before heading out of the bathroom.

Janus looks back down at Remus as the door closes.  “Do you want to go home?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Remus says, struggling to push himself off of Janus so he can turn around and face him.  “We haven’t even had food yet.”

“Remus.”  Janus takes him by the shoulders and gently turns him around.  “Let’s go home.”

Remus slumps.  “Yeah okay,” he whispers.

“We’ll come again another night,” Janus says, starting to run his hand through Remus’ hair again.

“Yeah, and I won’t sing karaoke, right?” Remus mutters bitterly.

Janus doesn’t say anything.

Remus sighs and looks down at his hands.  “Let’s go home,” he mutters.

...

Chapter Seven

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #dukeceit #creativitwins #platonic dukexiety #platonic anxceit #tw dying #my fic

[likethesword]

I saw your writing thing you're doing and I just had to follow you for it, but then i decided I wanted to come up with an idea for you and idk if you've done anything like this or similar but i was thinking maybe a prinxiety fic with the word "sugar" or "honey"? just a thought .

Hi anon! Thank you so much for following! Sorry this sat in my inbox for a bit, I had no idea what to write with it lol. But I think I’ve come up with something that you’ll enjoy!

Sugar and Sweat

Pairing: prinxiety, very background logicality

Words: 3045

Warnings: alcohol (no one gets full drunk, just a little tipsy), kissing, a bit suggestive I guess? (roman thinks virgil is really hot (he’s right)). Let me know if i missed one!

  It was a bright Saturday afternoon when Roman’s world shifted. 

 He was walking out of his favorite coffee shop, a locally owned place called Remy’s Roast, tea in hand. It was a new flavor today, and he was excited to try it. He opened the glass door and bumped right into someone. They had been walking with headphones on and looking at their phone, so they hadn’t seen him coming. They took a few startled steps back on impact and watched in horror as Roman’s tea dropped from his hand and spilled all over the floor. 

 Roman swore quietly as the hot drink splashed onto his shoes, but he was more annoyed than anything. He’d definitely be late to the theatre at this point.

    The stranger gasped in horror at what they’d done and reached toward Roman as though they were trying to protect him from something. “I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy, oh my God. Are you alright?” They asked, the look in their eyes nearing panic. 

  Roman sighed in annoyance. “I’m fine,” he said, reaching toward a stack of paper napkins on the counter to dry his shoes. “Not burned or anything.” 

 “I’m seriously so sorry. Could I buy you a replacement drink to make up for it?” 

 Roman stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall. He was already going to be horribly late considering the traffic, but as he looked at the stranger in front of him, he figured that the cast could live one day without him. 

  “Alright, that would be nice.” He said, giving them a smile that he hoped didn’t seem too forced.

  Thankfully though, the stranger smiled in return as they held their hand out for Roman to shake. “Awesome…” they trailed off as they came to the realization that Roman hadn’t given his name yet. “Sorry,” they chuckled to themselves. “I don’t think I caught your name.” 

 “I didn’t throw it,” Roman remarked, and nearly laughed out loud as the stranger seemed to struggle between being offended and being intrigued. “Sorry, I can never resist a Heathers reference,” he said, shaking their hand. “I’m Roman, he/him pronouns.”  

“Virgil, he/him.” He said, visibly relaxing. After standing and holding Roman’s hand under the pretense of a handshake for maybe a bit too long, Virgil shook himself and started to head further into the cafe. As they stood in line to order, Roman struck up a conversation about the pins he had noticed on his backpack. He especially made sure to call out the Nightmare Before Christmas he had noticed, commenting that it was one of his favorite stop-motion movies of all time.  

This, apparently, was the right thing to say, because Virgil’s eyes lit up as he rambled about the movie. He flapped his hands in excitement a few times, but stopped as soon as he caught himself. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I do that when I get excited sometimes.” 

 “Oh, don’t apologize!” Roman said quickly. “I do it too. Usually I have some kind of stim toy with me that I can use so I don’t hit anyone in the face. Seriously, you hit an old lady once and you’re never allowed to live it down.” He rolled his eyes for extra effect.

   Virgil snorted, pulling his hands out and touching each fingertip to his thumb again and again. “Wow, didn’t think I was talking to an old lady hitter,” he snarked, making Roman press a hand to his chest in mock offense. 

 “Wow, I didn’t know I was talking to someone who has no empathy for past mistakes!” He shot back, making Virgil cackle. He grinned at the sound, and strangely, felt his face warm slightly. That was a bit strange. He didn’t feel particularly hot at the moment. He shook it off when they finally reached the front of the line and Virgil asked him what he wanted.

   “A peppermint tea,” he said with a smile. Virgil considered him for a second, then gave his order.  

 “Peppermint tea with two spoonfuls with sugar,” he said, taking Roman slightly off guard. He wouldn’t have pegged this short emo as a tea person, let alone with sugar. They sat at a table as they waited for the drinks.

  “I wouldn’t have labeled you as a tea person,” he remarked after they were settled.  

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

 “No offense, Hot Topic, but I’d assume you’re more a coffee person. Gotta have the bitter drink to match the bitter personality, after all.” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the table and propping his chin in his hands.

  “Oh, no way,” Virgil wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I don’t need that much caffeine in my system. I’m already gay and anxious, I don’t need to walk any faster.” He laughed, seemingly ignoring the fact that he had just come out to a complete stranger.

   Roman allowed himself to laugh casually, trying desperately to ignore the voice that was cheering in his mind. He’s gay, he’s gay, he’s gay!!! It chirped, to his annoyance. “Trust me, I know. As a pan person, I’d just kinda… hover over the sidewalk.”

  Virgil snorted, and the voice inside Roman’s mind squealed at the top of its metaphorical lungs. It was that kind of day, apparently. 

  He also didn’t miss the way Virgil’s cheeks flushed and his eyes trailed over him.

  Luckily, he was saved from any more embarrassing thoughts by the barista calling their order.   

They sat and sipped their drinks in mostly silence, occasionally breaking it to ask a question or quote a meme. It felt as though they had known each other a lot longer than an hour. Eventually, Roman’s roommate called asking him to bring home ingredients for dinner, and Virgil had to get home to work.

  They walked out the door together, but Roman stopped him outside under the large blue awning of the cafe.

  “I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed talking to you today, Virgil,” Roman started, fidgeting with his hands. “And, if you’ll let me, maybe next time you’ll let me take you out on a real date? Something casual like bowling, I don’t know.” 

 Virgil snorted, trying to hide his smile behind his hand. “Really? Your first thought for a casual date is bowling?”

  “I’m kind of thinking on the fly here!” Roman defended himself, smacking Virgil’s arm playfully, which only made him laugh harder. Roman allowed himself to smile too, though it was more like a sappy grin. When he finally stopped laughing so hard, Virgil reached out and grabbed one of his restless hands. 

 “Yeah, that sounds good, Princey. Hopefully next time I won’t spill your tea as an opener.” 

 Roman snickered, feeling butterflies in his stomach. “Oh!” He exclaimed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening it up. “Could I have your number?” 

 Virgil noticeably blushed as he took the phone. “Yeah,” he said shyly. The moment he was done, he shoved the phone back at Roman, still blushing. “I’ve gotta run, sorry. Text me?”

  “Definitely.”

  They shared one last smile before Virgil turned and walked away down the sidewalk. Roman glanced down at his phone and caught sight at the name Virgil had entered. He had typed the letter V, followed by a stormcloud, a tea cup, and a purple heart. And damn if Roman’s heart didn’t nearly burst out of his chest over it.

~~~~~ 

 About a week later, Roman was stressed out of his mind. He had his first date with Virgil tonight, and despite being a self proclaimed romance expert, he couldn’t find a single thing to wear. In an act of desperation, he called Logan. 

 He poked his head in the doorway of the room, looking bored. “What do you need?” 

 “How did you get Patton to fall in love with you?” He blurted out, in the middle of tossing yet another shirt to the ground in frustration. Logan blinked and straightened his glasses, then walked in to sit on Roman’s bed.

  “Communication, I suppose. What brought this to mind?” 

 Roman shrugged, trying a different shirt and sighing in frustration. The pieces in Logan’s mind clicked together, and he let out a soft “ah.” 

 “This is about your date, isn’t it?”

  Roman sputtered indignantly, which was all the answer Logan needed. “It’ll be fine, Roman. This is only the first date, after all. It’s not as though you need to be worrying about falling in love right now.”

  Roman was silent for a few moments, then spoke in a small voice. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “He does, we both know this. He wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you otherwise,” He stood and went over to him, gently resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder. “Even if you decide that you are better off as friends, it’s not the end of the world. You’ve had breakups before, and you’ve made it through to the other side. And while I do not think it’s likely, if Virgil says that he feels nothing for you at all, you will always have me. And Patton, and Janus, and Remus.”

  Roman nodded, though he still looked nervous. “You’re right, as always. Thanks, Lo.”

  Logan smiled wryly and removed his chin, surveying the mess of clothes on the floor. “Any time. Now, let’s find you an outfit.” He searched through his closet and the items on the floor, knowing exactly what he was looking for. Once he had collected the entire outfit, he shoved it at Roman. “Put it on, and I’ll get my makeup out for you.”

  Roman’s spirit seemed to breathe a sigh of relief through the getting-ready process. He actually really liked the clothes that Logan had chosen, a pair of dark blue jeans with a white button-up. He tucked the front of the shirt into his jeans, leaving the rest undone, and nodded in approval. He grabbed his jean jacket off the back of a chair for a finishing touch, and headed out to the living room for Logan to do his thing.

  He and Logan sat in the living room chatting as Logan added makeup to his face. Not much; some contour here, a little blush there, maybe a touch of highlight over there. When he was finished, you could barely tell that he was wearing any, but there was a different look to Roman’s features. Logan had found the perfect balance between sharp and round, drawing attention to his angular jaw and the slope of his nose while still showing off the way his cheeks swelled when he smiled. 

  There was a sharp knock at the door, and Roman jumped. He looked over at Logan, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. “You’ll be fine. It’s just one date.” He reassured him, and Roman took a deep breath. He walked over and opened the door, opening his mouth to deliver some suave line, but it left his mind as soon as he took in the man standing on his doorstep.

   Virgil had chosen to wear a black miniskirt, the hem only coming down to his mid-thigh. He had a thick black belt with small silver chains dangling from it that jingled while he walked, and a dark purple top under a black hoodie. He scuffed the toe of his combat boots against the floor, looking up at Roman and smiling as he tried to process the sight in front of him.

  “You good there, Princey?”   Roman, who was still speechless, settled for just nodding. Logan came up behind him and reached out his hand for him to shake. “Good evening, you must be Virgil. I’m Roman’s roommate, Logan. I like your eyeliner.”

  Virgil smiled again, though this one seemed much less teasing. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me the shovel-talk?”

  “Oh, no. Roman is more than capable of defending himself, I’m not worried.” 

 “Got it. You ready to go, Ro?” He asked, looking at Roman again, who seemed to have regained some of his brain function.

  “Yeah. See ya later, Lo,” He patted his pockets, looking around in confusion. “Where are my-” Logan interrupted by handing him his wallet, phone, and keys. “What would I do without you?”

  “Starve, get locked out of the apartment, and just generally be miserable.” Logan said plainly, though there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

  “You’re damn right. I’ll be back later.” He said, walking out the door to join Virgil. 

 “Stay safe kids.” Logan teased, swinging the door shut in their faces. 

 “He seems like a charmer,” Virgil remarked sarcastically, bumping his shoulder against Roman’s on their way to the elevator down to the ground level of the apartment building. 

 “Oh he is. He and his boyfriend, Patton, are tooth-rottingly sweet. Much like you like your tea, if I remember correctly.” 

  “Hey, not my fault I like to enjoy my drinks instead of having bitter disappointment,” Virgil said, giving him a glare that had no heat behind it. 

 They got into Virgil’s car, still bantering back and forth. Roman almost forgot that he had no idea where they were going, which would have usually freaked him out. They did eventually pull up to a bar, but from the outside it didn’t look like it. It didn’t have any big flashy lights or a line out the door, it was just a short brick building with warm yellow lights that shone through the windows out into the street. 

 They parked and walked toward the bar, Roman huddling maybe a little closer to Virgil’s side than strictly necessary. His anxieties were soothed a bit as they made it through the door with no issues. Virgil pointed him toward a seating area near a small stage that Roman assumed was for live music, though tonight there was no one on the stage. 

  They ordered their drinks, Roman’s a whiskey, and Virgil’s something off the menu that had five different liquors in it and looked entirely too sweet to be palatable. Roman gave him a strange look when the bartender said their charge was on the house. Virgil, however, just smiled knowingly at him.

  The two sat and sipped at their drinks, just talking like they had in the cafe. As the alcohol warmed his stomach, Roman felt himself loosening up. He wasn’t so tense anymore, letting himself laugh louder at Virgil’s jokes, even leaning into his side a bit. 

  Though the glow was shattered when the bartender came over, telling Virgil that they were ready for him. Virgil just nodded and pulled away from Roman, asking him to wait. Though he was confused, Roman did. He stayed in the same seat, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. When Virgil was gone for five minutes and there was no sign of him coming back soon, he started getting anxious again. Then, gradually, the house lights dimmed and the lights came up on the stage.

~~~~~ 

 Roman had no idea he had a thing for musicians. 

 But now, seeing Virgil sitting on that stage, legs crossed as to not let anyone see past his skirt, a guitar in his arms and a microphone positioned at his mouth, Roman thought he had never seen a more attractive person. 

 But then Virgil started strumming, and his breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth, and music poured out of him like a waterfall, so full of emotion and personality that it stole the air from Roman’s lungs.

  Then he smirked over at him like he knew exactly what he was doing, and Roman had to use every ounce of his self control not to storm the stage and kiss him until he forgot the lyrics of the song. 

 He played a few songs, each one seeming more amazing than the last. Roman allowed himself to drown in his voice, treating each word like its own being, holding on to it for just long enough before dropping it and holding the next one. It was incredible, and Roman almost forgot that he was on a date, not in his room listening to an album on Spotify.

  Then, as his last song for the night, Virgil spoke. “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” He said, grinning directly at Roman, who groaned playfully. It was still incredible, of course, but Roman couldn’t believe that he had chosen the most cliche song ever to close with.

  He let the last notes ring out in the bar, then the lights went out, leaving the audience in darkness. When they came back on, he was gone from the stage. Roman was on his feet in an instant, asking the bartender where backstage was. He was pointed in the right direction, and he had to fight not to run. He came around a corner and caught sight of a short dark-haired guy putting a guitar away. “Virgil!” He called out, as loud as he dared. Virgil lifted his head, looking up in confusion. Roman rushed the rest of the way to him, cupped his face in his hands, and pressed his lips against his.

  His only thought was that Virgil tasted like sweat and sugar.

  Recovering from being caught off guard, Virgil’s eyes fluttered shut and he grabbed Roman’s hips, pulling him closer. Roman’s hands slipped from his cheeks into his hair and Virgil let out a pleased groan.

   When Roman pulled back, Virgil tried to chase his lips, but Roman put a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first.” He said breathlessly.

  Virgil shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m not complaining.” His voice was slightly hoarse from singing, and he was breathing heavily. 

 “You didn’t tell me you could sing!” Roman said accusingly, giving him a half-hearted glare, earning him a hearty laugh.

  “Did you enjoy your surprise?” Virgil asked teasingly. 

 “Oh, very much so.” Roman responded, voice low and smooth, sending a shiver up Virgil’s spine.

   “Then I think it was worth it.” Virgil murmured, then kissed him again.

  Roman felt that he could spend the rest of his life tasting nothing but sweat and sugar, and he’d be perfectly fine with that.

General:

@definitely-a-living-human

@my-friends-art-and-writing

@arodynamic-enby

@ari-the-writer-enby

@me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink

@irritating-lady-knight

@asexualtrashcan

@the17thmeatball

@inku-snas-art

@fandoms-are-my-one-true-love

Prinxiety:

@queen-of-tragedy-and-strife

@humanbeingiguess

#kat's writing #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #tw alcohol #tw drinking #tw kissing #tw suggestive #anon asks #ts virgil #ts roman #virgil in a skirt rights #when i had the idea to put virgil in a skirt i had to stop typing to happy stim #nanowrimo day 24

[eliemo]

Purple Skirt

Summary: Patton and Logan look amazing in their skirts, but Virgil knows he doesn’t get the same freedom when it comes to clothing. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting, self esteem issues

Notes: Thank you to @self-taught-mess​ for giving me the idea to make the skirts angsty. Sympathetic everyone. Taglist at the end

Masterpost

The first time he’d been able to even look at a skirt without wanting to throw up was when Patton had come bouncing down the stairs, looking absolutely delighted in his new suspenders skirt, and Virgil had smiled along with him without even thinking about the memories. 

He was so happy and radiant and god Virgil wished he could do the same. The idea of wearing a skirt around the mindscape, never giving it a second thought, allowing himself to be comfortable and confident like Patton could be was...amazing. 

Logan had donned a skirt a couple weeks later, wearing it as casually as any other outfit, and he’d barely batted an eye when they had all jumped up to compliment him. 

They were all so...comfortable with it. And of course they were, they were allowed to be. They deserved to be. Everyone was, except Virgil. He knew that. 

Which is why he had no idea what had possessed him to start wearing a skirt in the privacy of his own room. 

It was a horrible idea, and his hands started shaking every time he shut his door and put on the dark purple skirt, but...but he liked it. He liked wearing skirts, and the light side’s outfits had reminded him of that. 

He’d tried to wear skirts a few years ago, but the Others had very quickly shut that down, drilling into his brain how selfish and horrible it was to even consider outfits like that an option. 

Anyone else could wear a skirt. Anyone else could wear whatever they wanted. But Virgil didn’t have that right. Virgil was disgusting and useless, and he didn’t deserve that comfort. 

Besides, they looked horrible on him. He didn’t need to look any more pathetic than he already was. He’d been mocked and beaten and screamed at for forcing other people to see him like that, for thinking for a second that it had been remotely acceptable. They’d made themselves very clear, and they hadn’t stopped until Virgil had understood. Anxiety didn’t get to wear skirts. 

Now...now he knew he wouldn’t be beaten if he was caught in a skirt. He knew by now not to assume his family would hurt him, especially not over something so small. 

But he’d still be told off. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be wearing something like this, knew it was disgusting of him to even try. Patton and Logan looked amazing but Virgil was...well, Virgil. 

Still, after seeing Logan and Patton’s skirts he hadn’t been able to help himself. He was careful about it, only changing once a week at most with his door locked, always when he was sure he’d have time to himself where no one would come looking. 

The first few times, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, taunts, hate, and repulsion echoing in his head every second the skirt was on. He hadn’t been able to keep it on for more than five minutes. 

But recently, he’d started to feel a bit more comfortable. He knew it wasn’t ok, knew better than to risk letting anyone see him, but...with no one around to tell him how disgusting he looked, he allowed himself a few glances in the mirror, and let himself keep it on for longer. 

It was comforting, freeing, and...maybe if it was anyone else, it might actually look good. 

He should have known better than to drop his guard like that.

Virgil had put his skirt on about half an hour ago, closing himself off in his room until dinner, his usual ripped jeans laid out for him to quickly slip on before heading back downstairs. 

He’d gotten too comfortable- too relaxed, lounging on his bed with his music playing and his eyes slipped shut and his head went foggy, losing track of time completely.  

“You in there, Hot Topic?” Roman’s call and gentle knocking didn’t startle Virgil like it usually would, and he groggily lifted his head from the pillow, slipping off his headphones. “Can I come in?” 

Virgil rubbed sleep from his eyes, pushed himself up on the bed, and waved a hand to unlock his door without a second thought. 

He then immediately realized his mistake as soon as the handle started to turn. Shit shit shit--

He scrambled off the bed, suddenly wide awake as his feet hit the carpeted floor, but he didn’t have a chance to get anywhere to hide before Roman was standing in the doorway, eyes going wide. 

For a split second, Virgil let himself be overtaken by dangerous, desperate hope. The light sides had pleasantly surprised him so many times already- it was ok for him to make mistakes, it was fine if he dropped something or made a loud noise or talked too much- so maybe...maybe this was ok too? 

But then Roman opened his mouth, and old instinct and far too familiar fear took over. 

“Sorry,” Virgil blurted as he shrank back, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t...s-sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“Wait, what?” Roman stepped closer, and Virgil internally cursed himself for flinching. This wasn’t like last time, this wasn’t like last time. “Virgil. Why’re you sorry?” 

He shrugged, suddenly hyper aware of the way the plaid skirt hugged his waist, draping just above the knee to show off the black and white striped stockings. He found himself absently tugging at the end of the material. 

“I...I’m not--” he cut himself off when his voice grew unsteady, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I’m not supposed to, but I- I wasn’t going to leave the room. I know I- that I can’t--” 

“Oh, Virgil of course you can.” Roman’s voice was soft, always so genuine, and this time Virgil didn’t flinch back when the Prince took another step. “You look amazing.”

Virgil’s shoulders hunched on instinct, and he scrambled to figure out if that was sarcasm in the Prince’s tone, because he’d been expecting something far more hurtful. 

“I...you don’t have to, I was just- it was stupid. I- I forgot I was wearing it, I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Roman said, but his smile suddenly dropped. “Oh, Stormcloud you’re shaking.” 

Oh. Virgil hadn’t even realized how bad he’d started trembling, too scared to meet Roman’s eyes despite them radiating nothing but kindness. 

“Hey.” The Prince held out his hands, and Virgil risked a cautious glance up from the floor. “Come here?” 

Virgil let his shoulders drop, but his defenses were still raised, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always expecting some kind of trap or trick. He still couldn’t help it. 

But he let himself close the distance between them and fall into Roman’s chest, letting out a shuddering breath as strong arms wrapped around him, gentle but secure. 

“You can wear a skirt, Virgil,” Roman said. “Did you...think I would be angry with you?” 

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak again just yet. All he was able to manage was a small nod against Roman’s chest. 

“Why?” he asked, voice still soft but Virgil thought there was a hint of something defensive. “I wear skirts all the time. So does Remus. And Patton and Logan have--” 

“I know.” Virgil took another small, trembling breath. “And you- you all look great. Obviously. Everyone can- everyone can wear whatever, I’m not...I just...can’t.” 

Roman pulled back slightly, but Virgil couldn’t meet his gaze. “Why not?” 

“Because I’m...I’m gross, and I shouldn’t...I can’t. Not like you guys, it’s not...it’s not allowed. It’s...probably bad for my influence over Thomas or something.. Plus I, uh- I look horrible in most things anyway, so…”

He trailed off, and his heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on Roman’s face. He was watching Virgil intently, head tilted slightly, eyes filled with something sad and...and angry. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Shit, he’d been talking too long hadn’t he? He was being annoying and he was still making Roman see him like this and he probably just wanted Virgil to shut up already. “I didn’t mean to ramble, I’m sorry, I’ll change and then--” 

“I’m not upset with you,” Roman said, and Virgil quickly fell silent. “This is...just one more thing they took away from you, isn’t it?” 

Virgil shrugged, back to wrapping his arms around himself like a useless shield. He felt tears spring to the corners of his eyes, face burning hot, and he quickly blinked them away. 

“I guess,” he muttered. “They didn’t really want me to...like myself. It’s still...hard, you know? To get their voices out of my head.” 

He tried not to think about it. He tried to block out the vicious, horrible things that had been said to him every time they’d raised a fist, their words just as powerful as a punch. 

They’d hurt him so bad, and they’d worked so hard to make him hate himself as much as they hated him. 

He wasn’t going to roll over and accept that. Not anymore. He’d get better now that he had people who loved him by his side. It just...god, it was so hard sometimes.  

“I know,” Roman said, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever heard the Prince sound so grim. “Trust me, Virgil. I know.” 

Virgil didn’t doubt that. He dug his foot into the carpet, doing what he could to remind himself that Roman wasn't upset. The prince wasn’t disgusted by him, he didn’t think he was pathetic, and he wasn’t angry that Virgil was making him look at Anxiety longer than necessary. 

“Yeah, well. Self esteem is overrated.” 

Roman laughed, but he was still staring at Virgil with something sorrowful and uncertain. “Maybe. But if it helps, I think you look absolutely stunning.” 

“What?” Virgil scoffed, even as he was sure his face was bright red by now. “N-no, I...I don’t. Look, I can just change--” 

“Virgil, have you even looked in the mirror?” Roman asked, and Virgil tried not to flinch because those words had been said to him before, just under very different circumstances. 

But Roman was suddenly taking his hands, dragging him (gently, of course) into Virgil’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink and looking in the mirror. It was something he tried to avoid as much as possible, but with the way Princey was beaming at him...for the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to be so apprehensive. 

“How long have you had this?” Roman asked, and at Virgil’s blank stare he quickly gestured to the outfit- an older black hoodie over a white shirt, black and white stockings, and the plaid purple skirt. 

“Uh...I don’t know, it’s just some clothes. The skirt is kinda new, though. I had to make a new one after my old one was…” destroyed, was really the only accurate way to put it. And they hadn’t even waited for him to take it off. Somehow he really doubted that would make Roman feel any better. “Lost. It’s...it’s pretty stupid, I know.” 

“Not at all,” Princey said, and Virgil didn’t know why he couldn’t just give in and believe him. “Just look! You’re beautiful!” 

He seemed so excited, eyes brimming with awe and eagerness, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to protest. Even when he was struck with the familiar urge to avert his gaze as soon as he came face to face with his own reflection. 

It was just...him. Nothing special, nothing particularly good, just plain, dark and brooding Anxiety. But he’d been taught, over and over and over again, to hate every little thing about himself. Just like everyone else already did. 

But that had been a lie, just like nearly everything else he’d been told. The people who mattered didn’t hate him, and they did much more than tolerate his presence. 

He just...didn’t know where to start when it came to liking anything about himself. 

Luckily, Roman already seemed to be two steps ahead of him. 

“You are not disgusting,” he said, completely catching Virgil off guard. “And I swear, if I could I would run my sword through every single person who ever put that thought in your head.” 

“Please don’t.” It came out a whisper, soft and pathetic. They’d had this talk before, countless times, but each time it sent terror shooting through his chest. “Please--” 

“I know. As much as I want to make them suffer...I would never betray your trust by doing something so selfish. It will always be up to you whether or not I go after them.” 

Virgil’s shoulders dropped, relief just as dizzying as the last few times. “Thank you.” 

“But I mean it,” Roman said. “They were so, so wrong. We think you’re wonderful, Virgil. We...we all think you’re amazing. I know you don’t see it, but- but we do. And every day you shine just a little bit brighter.” 

“Princey--” 

“Did you know Patton couldn’t stop crying that first night we found out about what happened to you? He kept it together right until you fell asleep and then he...Logan held him until he exhausted himself. And Lo was...we were all so angry.” 

Virgil couldn’t turn around, instead staring at Roman’s reflection through the mirror. “I...I’m--” 

“This isn’t a guilt thing,” Roman clarified. “I’m saying we didn’t understand. We still don’t. How someone could look at you and not see someone incredible. You’ve been through so much and we’re...I’m honored to get to meet the person you always deserved to be.” 

And, yeah Virgil was definitely going to cry now, fresh tears just replacing the ones he wiped away. But maybe that was ok, because Roman’s eyes were red and watery now too. 

“Back to the point,” Roman said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can wear what you want. Always. My only request is that you don’t outshine me.” 

Virgil snorted, even as uncertainty and apprehension still rested heavy on his chest. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Princey.” 

“Well, I stand by what I said,” Roman announced, clapping his hands together. “You look stunning. And I’m sure the others will agree. Patton will be thrilled to have another skirt-buddy. Why don’t we head down so you can--” 

“No!” 

Roman had already started for the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks and spinning back around at Virgil’s outburst. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but…

But the terror that had hit when Roman had caught him just moments before, the disgust with himself that had just been starting to dissipate a bit...all of it hit full force again at the thought of going downstairs like this. 

He wanted to. He wanted to know he could be comfortable and learn to feel ok again so bad. But he couldn’t. There was no way. 

“Virge--” 

“I can’t.” And now he was going to upset Roman, after the Prince had tried so hard to get Virgil to stop being such a coward. And now he probably was going to be angry- or disappointed at the very least. Virgil wasn’t sure which one was worse. “I’m sorry, sorry it’s just--” 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Roman said, with way more patience than Virgil deserved at this point. “I’m not going to force you out of your comfort zone, Emo. Prince’s honor. We go at your pace, and your pace only.” 

 Virgil stuffed his hands into the hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to pull up his hood. “You’re not, like...mad?” 

“I’m not mad, Virgil,” Roman assured, and smiled. “Take your time. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” 

“Ok.” Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shaky and small, and once again he wondered what he’d done to deserve this much kindness. “Ok. I’m uh, I’m gonna change. I’ll be down for dinner soon.” 

There was no annoyance, no frustration or exasperated eyeroll. Just a nod from Roman and another gentle, understanding smile as the Prince slipped through the door and left him alone again. 

For a moment, standing in his silent bedroom with his black jeans in his hands, Virgil considered keeping the skirt on. 

He wasn’t...he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t the selfish, horrible, grotesque villain he’d been taught to think he was. 

He had the right to say, do, and wear whatever he wanted. He was just as free to exist and express himself as anyone else in the mindscape. 

It was what his family told him, over and over and over again. And it was what he was trying desperately to begin to believe. 

But he was almost positive that if he tried to step outside right now he’d have a panic attack before he reached the bottom of the stairs. So he took another deep breath, steadied himself, and changed back into his regular jeans and oversized hoodie. 

He wasn’t going to suddenly lose the right to recover if he took his time. There wasn’t a time limit to all of this. And like Roman had said, they’d be there when he was ready.

-- 

It was another few weeks before Roman heard a knock on his door, timid and familiar enough for him to know it was Virgil before he pulled it open with a smile. 

The anxious side was standing in the hall, arms wrapped around his middle as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, shoulders hunched in a defensive stand and...oh. 

He was wearing the outfit Roman hadn’t gotten the chance to see since their talk in his room, complete with the plaid purple skirt that the Prince thought looked absolutely perfect on Virgil. 

“Good afternoon,” Roman said, fighting to sound as nonchalant as possible, all too aware of how big of a deal this was. “You heading downstairs?” 

Virgil took a minute before nodding slowly, chewing incessantly on his lip, still fidgeting in the doorway. 

“Alright,” Roman said, hoping it was at least a little encouraging. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

He could see Virgil trying to compose himself, recognized the slow, deliberate breaths he was taking in an effort to fight against rising panic, and Roman’s heart throbbed at the watery, scared look in his eyes. 

“Could you…” Virgil trailed off, squeezing his hands into fists. “Could you come with me? Please?” 

Roman softened, and stepped into the hallway. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t until he held out a hand, letting Virgil latch onto him and squeeze as tight as he needed, that he realized just how bad the anxious side was shaking. Just like the first time Roman had seen him in the skirt. 

As nice as it looked, it was a fairly simple outfit. Roman had worn far more extravagant things, and other than excited compliments from Patton, no one really looked twice. 

He couldn’t imagine what the others had done to make Virgil so afraid of being seen in a skirt. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. Roman forcefully pushed his anger back down, and squeezed Virgil’s hand in response. He didn’t stop trembling the entire trip down the hall. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Patton and Logan’s voices began to filter in from the living room, and Virgil suddenly stopped, breath catching in his throat, looking to Roman with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What...what if they--” 

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” Roman said. “I swear it. But we don’t have to do this today if you aren’t ready. Like I said, we go at your pace.” 

Virgil’s eyes were glued to the stairs, tense and unmoving, clutching Roman’s hand like he thought it would be ripped away at any moment. 

Roman was fully willing to stand here for hours if it meant Virgil would be comfortable, but it only took a few minutes for his breathing to even out slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders coming undone. 

“Ok,” he said softly, probably more to himself than to Roman. “Ok. I’m...I’m good. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Roman promised. “Your pace, Virge. I’m here.” 

They made their way down the steps together, slow and steady, Roman letting Virgil move as fast as he wanted, stopping to take a few seconds to breathe whenever he needed. 

Logan and Patton were lounged on the couch by the time they made it to the living room, the logical side lost to the contents of the open book on his lap. 

Virgil suddenly froze in the doorway, looking up at Roman like he thought the Prince was the only thing standing in between him and certain death. 

And then Patton glanced up at the movement, and Roman couldn’t remember the last time the moral side had smiled so wide. 

“Oh my gosh! Virgil, you look so good!” 

Virgil automatically flinched against Roman’s side as Patton jumped up from the couch, but Roman could see surprise battling with doubt and confusion as he took in Patton’s happiness. 

“I...yeah?” 

And in the middle of it all, a small flicker of hope. 

“Yes!” Patton practically squealed. He rushed over to take Virgil’s hands, and Roman stepped away with one last reassuring smile. “I didn’t know you liked skirts, kiddo! You should have told me!” 

Virgil was searching Patton’s face, probably making sure there wasn’t any hint of hidden disgust in his words, before relaxing ever so slightly. “Yeah, I...wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“You look so pretty!” Patton was bouncing up and down now, Virgil’s hands still in his. “Don’t you think so, Logan?” 

Roman glanced at the logical side still seated on the couch, unsurprised to find a look of pride and quiet understanding.

“He does,” Logan agreed. “The outfit itself is aesthetically pleasing, and the colors suit you very well, Virgil. I am glad you were comfortable enough to try something new.” 

Virgil shrugged, cheeks turning a light shade of red, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes with a small, thankful smile. “It’s...it’s whatever.” 

“We should have a skirt day!” Patton announced suddenly. “Can we have a skirt day?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “A...skirt day?” 

“We can all wear our skirts together! Do you think we could get Janus and Remus to join us?” 

Roman chuckled, beyond relieved for the small smile now beginning to overtake Virgil’s features. “I’m sure you could, padre.” 

“Patton, it is simply an article of clothing,” Logan pointed out, completely lost. “Why do we need an entire day dedicated to wearing it?” 

“Because! It’s--” 

Patton was suddenly interrupted by Virgil suddenly wrapping his arms around the moral side, pulling him close in a tight, almost desperate embrace. 

Virgil so rarely was the one to initiate physical contact, as much as he needed it, always terrified of being seen as needy or ungrateful. From what Roman had gathered, Virgil had been told he was too disgusting to be touched in any way other than violent. 

“Oh, kiddo.” Despite his obvious surprise, Patton didn’t hesitate before hugging back. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, honey? Did I upset you?” 

Virgil shook his head, still clutching Patton’s shirt as he pulled back. Roman wanted so badly to rush over and hold him close when he realized Virgil was smiling through his tears, so clearly overwhelmed but so so relieved. 

“No- no, it’s-” he took in a shuddering breath, struggling to get a hold of himself. “I’m...thank you. I just- I love you all so much.” 

And then he was covering his mouth with his hand, crying quietly as Patton gathered him back into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut but relaxing further when the other two sides hurried to join the embrace. 

Roman couldn’t even imagine the weight that had just been lifted from Virgil’s shoulders, how rewarding acceptance without question must have felt. Especially when for him, every step forward was like climbing a mountain. 

He caught Logan sending him a questioning look, but he quickly shook his head. Later. They could talk it out later. Right now…

Right now Virgil just needed the reassurance. And Roman knew they were all more than happy to remind him they would never get tired of giving it to him. 

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @basilthefourth @snowtrashowl @thefingergunsgirl @trashtm @stubbornness-and-spite @kieraelieson @alias290 @darkch1ld @craz-ewaters @damy-02 @frogdog145 @gattonero17 @madamedraconis @stoicpanther @@love-to-read02 @that-spider-fan-over-there @thatoneloudowl @rich-flower-17 @demigodbookdragon @i-gobymanynames @wyvern-tales @spoopyseason66 @gaylotusthatexists @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @that-one-fander @alias290 @yalltookmyurlideas @theantisocialghost @dark-strange-daughter @joylessnightsky @nova-galexa @luckymasie @stayarmy321 @starsinger @unhygienic-andy-the-anon @deathdarknessdevils @d-rizzle83 @spoonfullofcrofters @sarcasmremovedsoul @bananabread123443 @alpacadraws @nonbinaryemonugget @espepspes @awesome-and-unique-username @starshinemoonglow @honeybonesvirgil @fandertrash24 @tracingstarlight @sanders-fanders @heartwitchhouse @major-disaster-enby @a-poor-anxious-baby @franticfandomfanatic @the3rdpansexualpanda @a-flying-gay @hermitcreature @darkle-elkrad @coaltail121 @i-really-like-dragons @blagi @the-daydreamers-rebellion

#sanders sides #past abuse tw #violence mention tw #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #sides in skirts #prinxiety #moxiety #analogical #platonic lamp #fanfiction #writing #sympathetic light sides

[daised-daisy]

Stay Instead

Ships: Logince, almost Roceit

Summary: After Logan had enough and moved to the “dark” side, Roman is devastated and can’t do anything but miss him. Then finally as he’s starting to move on, a special someone pays him a visit.

Word Count: 2,506

Warnings: Yelling, Roman gets very angry

~

It was a regular night, and Roman hated that. He hated that Logan being gone and Janus being there was suddenly normal. He hated seeing Janus sitting in Logan’s spot on the couch like it had been his all along. Roman sat at the other end of the couch, his constant glaring going unnoticed by its target. Virgil sat closest to Roman, but a bit of space stayed between them. He laid sideways with his legs bent. He was listening to music on his headphones while scrolling on his phone. After Virgil sat Patton, who worked on a cross-stitching project he’d started a while ago, but never got around to finishing. Logan usually read a book, but Janus read magazines. Logan held his books in one hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. Janus usually held the magazine up in front of his face, but today he had it in his lap. Roman scoffed. He was going to get a cramp in his neck. He opened his mouth to tell him that in an all but helpful tone but froze when he realized something else was slightly different about Janus.

He was wearing glasses. Glasses that looked just like Logan’s.

Roman filled with rage and sadness as the sight tugged at his already aching heart. Tears threatened to spill, and his mouth curled into a scowl, his brows knitted together. He stood up, grabbing Virgil’s attention.

“Ro? What are you doing?” he asked.

“You can’t replace him! You’ll never replace him!” Roman shouted, ignoring Virgil and gaining the attention of the other two. He launched himself at Janus, snatching his glasses off his face and holding them tightly to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re not him! You can’t pretend to be him!” He sunk onto his knees.

“Roman!” Patton scolded, standing up. Janus held up his hand to Patton and looked at Roman as he continued to mumble weak insults about how Janus could never be like Logan. Patton hesitantly sat back, watching Janus and Roman closely.

“Roman, would you like me to sit in a different spot?” he asked, his voice gentle. Roman was familiar with Janus’s smooth tone. It was what he used when manipulating him. But this tone sounded different. It sounded genuine, though Roman was still hesitant to believe it actually was. He hiccuped and nodded nonetheless. Janus stood up, then kneeled down in front of the sobbing prince. Roman clutched Janus’s glasses tighter to his chest, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. Janus took off his glove and brought a hand up to his cheek. When Roman felt Janus’s skin against his cheek, he opened his eyes, letting the darkness give way to Janus’s warm smile. “Would it be okay if I sat next to you instead?” Roman hesitated before nodding again.

Janus slowly stood up, his hand leaving Roman’s cheek. Roman immediately missed his touch, which he didn’t expect. But Janus kept his hand held out. Roman looked at it unsurely. He reluctantly let go of the glasses with one hand and took Janus’s, letting him pull him up. Roman looked at the glasses in his other hand and held them out to Janus.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“I can’t say it’s okay, but I understand, and I forgive you,” Janus told him softly, then smirked. “Besides, I deserved it a little bit.” Roman giggled and wiped the tears off his cheek with his sleeve. “Also, if the glasses upset you that much, I won’t wear them. I can fashion up another pair that look less like… his.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. Janus nodded and led Roman back over to the other side of the couch, sitting down first to allow Roman to decide how much distance he wanted between them. Roman chose none, sitting right next to Janus and leaning into his side. Janus happily welcomed this, putting his arm around Roman. The prince closed his eyes and finally relaxed for the first time since Logan had left.

Patton smiled proudly and gratefully at Janus, who returned one as well. Virgil rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a small grin of his own as he turned back to his phone. Logan, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling. His face remained neutral as he watched from the shadows. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to keep himself calm as he sunk out back into the dark side of the mind.

“I want to start tonight,” he said as he rose up in the dark side living room. Remus stopped shaking salt and pepper into each eye and looked at him.

“But I’m in the middle of an experiment,” Remus whined. Logan glanced at him and sighed.

“I already told you, Remus. Both salt and pepper will irritate your eyes,” Logan said. “And this setup is a disaster anyway. If you want proper results you’d need to have a equal amount of salt and pepper, but you’re barely even estimating it. It won’t yield proper results.”

“Fine,” Remus groaned, setting down the salt and pepper shaker, then standing up and waving Logan over. “Let’s get to the imagination.”

~ one week later ~

“Goodnight, Janus,” Roman said as they stood in front of Roman’s door, staring into each other’s eyes. “Thanks for sitting with me again. You make me feel a lot less lonely.” Janus smiled down at him lovingly.

“I’d do anything to make up for before, my prince,” he said his eyes briefly flickering to Roman’s lips. “Just don’t ask me to give you the most beautiful thing in the world because I don’t know how to give you to yourself.” He put a hand to Roman’s cheek, holding it gently. Roman giggled softly, a blush sprinkling his face.

“You’re so sweet,” Roman said, stepping closer. “Let me thank you.” Janus nodded, and Roman grabbed his face, stood up on his tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him. Janus’s heart sped up, fluttering as Roman got closer. He let his eyes fall closed and waited for their lips to meet.

“Roman.”

Roman froze in place, his eyes shooting open when he heard that familiar voice he’d been missing so much. He let go of Janus’s face, much to Janus’s dismay, and spun around to face the source, almost letting out a sob when he saw Logan standing behind him. Janus scowled.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice seething with almost disgust for the former light side.

“I came to speak with Roman,” Logan said, his eyes flickering between Roman and Janus. “Alone.” Roman looked back at Janus pleadingly. Janus scoffed but walked off anyway.

“Logan,” Roman breathed once they were alone in the hallway. He stepped closer and placed his hands on Logan’s chest, partially afraid his hands might go right through him and he’d find it was only an illusion. “Oh my god. It’s really you.” He laughed. “It’s you!” Logan froze when Roman flung his arms around him.

“Roman, I… there’s something I want you to see,” Logan said stiffly. Roman stepped back.

“What is it?” he asked. Logan bit his lip and hesitantly grabbed Roman’s hand, then let go again uncertainly.

“M-may I?” he asked. Roman nodded, holding his hand out to Logan. Logan took it again, feeling Roman’s slim delicate fingers, perfect for creating intricate crafts as Roman often did, rest against his palm and holding Roman’s hand with his own thicker, rougher fingers that hadn’t seen as many lotions and creams as Roman’s had. With his other hand, Logan turned Roman’s doorknob.

“Where are we going?” Roman ask with a raised brow as Logan pulled him into his own room.

“The imagination,” Logan answered, opening Roman’s portal and stepping inside. Roman followed curiously, still gripping Logan’s hand tight. “Look, I never know how to say this, so I’m going to show you instead.”

“Show me what?” Roman asked, then gasped softly as they came upon a candle-lit table under a pink canopy surrounded by rose bushes. Remus stood beside it with a proud smile, gesturing at it with his hands. He then bowed and slowly walked backwards away from it. “What is this?”

“I asked Remus to help me create it,” Logan said. “But it was my idea.”

“It’s lovely,” Roman said, continuing towards it. He knelt beside one of the rose bushes and admired its flowers. While he was looking away, Remus snuck back in beside Logan and changed his clothing to a dark blue suit, which Logan hadn’t expected. Before he could comment on it, Remus rushed over to his brother and sneakily changed his clothing to a cute red dress that he knew Roman liked.

He didn’t even notice the change until he stood up and felt a slight breeze against his bare legs. He looked down and his eyes widened, but his surprised expression quickly melted into a smile and he spun around, the skirt of his dress twirling around him.

He looked up at Logan, his face heating up at the sight of Logan in his suit. He was so used to Logan being a nerdy mess all of the time, seeing him so together like this was… different. But a good different!

“You look very handsome,” Roman said, suddenly not so proud of his own outfit, doubting he looked as good in it as Logan did in his. Logan walked up to Roman and immediately smothered those doubts.

“You look… incredible,” he said in a soft tone of almost disbelief. “Gorgeous, I mean! No, amazing!” He laughed. “I can’t decide which word fits you best.” Roman giggled, his face heating up even more. Not just from the compliment. Hearing Logan laughed so freely made his heart flutter. He rarely heard it before and it was so beautiful.

“Thank you,” he said. “For all of this. It’s wonderful.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The evening has just begun,” Logan said, taking Roman’s hand and leading him over to the table. He pulled out a chair for him and he sat down. Then Logan sat himself in the other seat across the small table.

“Baguette! Baguette! French words!” Remus’s voice came as he swooped in again, this time donning a chef’s uniform. Roman already felt like throwing up. Nothing Remus made could be edible or safe.

But to his surprise, Remus set down a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of Roman, and it looked like actual peanut butter and jelly. And it smelled like actual peanut butter and… Crofters!”

“Bone apple tea!” Remus said. Roman giggled as he watched his brother strut away. He looked back at Logan with a bright smile. Logan’s heart fluttered at the sight. He’d missed seeing Roman happy. He hardly saw him at all since he left the light sides and even when he occasionally lurked in the living room shadows to watch him and the others, Roman was always frowning.

“What are you staring at?” Roman asked. Logan blinked a few times and sat up from where he was leaning over with his chin held up by the back of his hands and his elbows on the table. Roman was still smiling, but now a blush accompanied it, making him all the more cuter.

“I... Looking at your smile makes me feel… happy!” Logan said, proud of himself for admitting his emotions. “A-and warm! On the inside, I mean.”

“Logan, you’re… acting different,” Roman noted, his brows coming together. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

“Different? Does that displease you? I can revert back to my original—“

“No, no! It’s a good different!” Roman assured him, and Logan relaxed, picking up his sandwich and starting to eat as well. “I like this Logan.”

“You like me?” Logan repeated, a grin growing on his face. He set the sandwich down. “I make you feel happiness?”

“More than that,” Roman admitted.

“And how does… Janus make you feel?” Logan’s lips curled into a scowl at just the thought of him and Roman together like earlier.

Roman sighed. “Conflicted. Confused. Unsure.” He frowned. “Bad.”

“Then why did you almost—”

“I don’t know!” Roman suddenly sobbed, putting his head in his hands. “Because I missed you and I wanted to pretend he could make up for you being gone but he can’t!”

“Oh no, please do not cry! I will make it better; just tell me how,” Logan promised, standing up. Roman looked up at him with tears in his eyes. He sniffed and wiped his cheeks with his wrist.

“Just…” he began, his voice shaking. “Come back to me.” Logan gazed down at Roman sadly and shook his head. Roman let out another sob, holding himself and hunching over. Logan quickly fell onto his knees in front of Roman and held his face in his hands, but Roman shoved him away and stood up. He started to run.

“Roman!” Logan called out after him. Remus popped back in.

“What did you do, dumb butt?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “I just told him I wasn’t going back to the others.”

“He probably thinks that means you don’t want to be with him either, you idiot!” Remus scolded, shoving him towards where Roman ran off. “Go after him!” Logan started running. He caught up to Roman and grabbed his waist, pulling him back against him.

“Stay with me,” he whispered into his ear. Roman stopped and looked at him. He repeated. “Stay with me, Roman.”

“You mean… be a dark side?” Roman asked.

“There are no dark sides or light sides, Roman,” Logan said. “The only difference will be where you stay. They don’t listen to you anyway. Please, be with me.”

“I… I want to, but…” he began, though he couldn’t find the words to follow. He had no but. No reason to stay. He nodded and lunged forward, smashing their lips together. Logan held on tight to him.

“You’re mine. All mine,” Logan mumbled against his lips. He pulled back and smiled. “I love you, Roman. And I’m not ashamed of it anymore.” Roman smiled back at him.

“I love you too, Logan,” he said. “And I’m proud of you for letting yourself feel things. I’m so proud of you.” He wiped his eyes. “Oh god I’ve missed you. I can’t wait to listen to one of your informational rants or even just hear you scold me for being dumb.” He laughed a little.

“You want to hear my rants?” Logan asked. “But I’ve been practicing keeping them in so I wouldn’t annoy you if you agreed to stay with me.” Roman’s heart sunk.

“Oh Logan…” he began. “Of course I do. I love you so much. I love hearing you talk and watching you get excited about what you’re talking about.” He glanced up at the sky and smiled. “Come on. Let’s not waste any time.” He sat down, pulling Logan down with him, and pointed at the sky.

“Tell me about the stars, my love.”

#logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #daisy writing #dark side logan

[killing-all-joy]

I got inspired to write after Virgil wearing a skirt. Prinxiety with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it implied Moceit. I finished this late last night so I thought I’d post it today. I hope you like it!

cw: vague mention of food, self deprecation

Virgil stood in front of his room’s mirror, pivoting on his heels to turn his body left and right forty-five degrees. Patton and Logan had recently picked out skirts to wear, and Virgil decided in a (rare) rush of confidence that came after a particularly persuasive conversation with Patton to wear a skirt himself. His best friend was so excited about the skirt he wore, and Virgil had to agree that the skirt looked quite good on him (so didn’t Janus). Virgil figured that he wouldn’t be ridiculed so severely for wearing a skirt considering Logan, Thomas’ logic, had done the same recently.

He was in a purple and black plaid skirt, short sleeved hoodie, white shirt, white and black vertically striped tights, and black shoes with purple laces. He knew the look was adventurous, and was now trying to decide whether he looked okay. The anxious thoughts screaming in his mind that he looked terrible were momentarily muffled by his love for the outfit.

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end, and the negative thoughts started to get louder. As they started to get to a volume and intensity that started to pull his hands to his hoodie with the intention of removing it and changing back into his old outfit, his door slammed open.

“Viiiiiiiirrrgiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiil,” sang the most familiar and distinctive voice Virgil knew. Roman was in his room.

Virgil started to panic. He forgot to lock his door (of course he did, things always go wrong), and now Roman, perhaps the least considerate of a person’s privacy (excluding Remus) in the mindscape, had opened the door without knocking and was now able to see what an absolute moron Virgil was to wear a skirt, I mean what kind of misplaced confidence-

Roman almost wished he’d knocked. That way, he would’ve been prepared for the sight that awaited him when he opened the door to Virgil’s room.

Why ‘almost’? Virgil was the most anxious thing to ever come to existence. If he knocked, Virgil would have snapped his fingers to change his outfit (they were imaginary, after all, and could change their clothing at will), and Roman would never have been blessed by the most beautiful sight ever to grace his eyes.

However, those things did not obscure how embarrassingly not composed Roman was after he laid his gaze on his fellow side. He couldn’t really blame himself, since he expected Virgil to be scrolling tumblr (as he normally was). It’s not like today was a special occasion either. Just that the afternoon had now become the evening and it was time for dinner.

Patton had made chicken and broccoli that smelled like heaven, and Virgil was nowhere to be found. Roman had volunteered to look for Virgil, his first instinct being his room. He had heard the quiet sound of shoes sliding against wooden flooring, and decided that Virgil was in his room. So, he did what any person would expect him to do and threw the anxious side’s door open while singing his name, holding out the vowels so long that only someone trained impressively well in breath support could be able to manage. 

“Time for di-oh,” Roman said, voice loud at the beginning of his sentence but starting to lower in volume as he noticed Virgil (particularly his attire).

Virgil was decidedly not in his normal outfit. Or his old one. No, the emo now donned a short-sleeved hoodie, a white shirt, tights, and the ultimate killer of Roman’s composure, a skirt.

Sure, Patton in a skirt, while adorable and attractive, did not surprise Roman. At least, not after he saw the design. Roman had smiled when he saw Patton’s skirt and told him that he looked quite good. Logan was a bit more (very) surprising, but Roman just gave him a teasing remark and then a more serious compliment without any gay-related problems. But Virgil....

Roman’s ultimate wish was that he could’ve received a heads-up before this. That way, he could have prepared. If he’d received a warning, he, well aware of his crush on Virgil and how much that could affect him in any given situation, would have been able to enter Virgil’s room without half the issues. Or maybe not. But still, it seemed like anything would have yielded better results than what was happening in the present.

Because Roman’s eyes were wider than the sun, his jaw dropped lower than the Mariana Trench is deep, and his movements ceased faster than someone turned to stone by Medusa. He was thankful he wasn’t holding anything, because he would have dropped it then and there. Roman wasn’t fully sure he was blinking or breathing, hell, his heart could’ve stopped and he wouldn’t have noticed or cared. All he could do was let his eyes stare at Virgil.

So, yeah. Roman almost wished he would have knocked.

“Roman?” Virgil asked, voice too quiet and shy to be a sign of anything positive. “Are you okay?”

Roman wanted to reply, say either “yes” or the truth. But, his brain failed him and he was unable to make any noise.

Virgil blinked. “A...um...I imagine you came to tell me about dinner. I’ll be right down, just let me change.”

Roman walked into the room slowly, not saying anything. He stopped in front of Virgil, grabbing his arm. Virgil had the tendency to slouch, so Roman had to look down slightly to meet his eyes. He tried to speak again, to tell Virgil that he didn’t have to change and could wear his outstanding outfit to dinner, but he found himself unable to find the words.

“Roman? You’re stopping me. Have I done something wrong?”

Roman shook his head.

“Wh- oh god, it’s the outfit, isn’t it. It looks bad. Too much. I know, I’m sorry. Patton and Logan did the whole skirt thing so I thought I’d try it out but that was obviously a terrible idea because now I’ve made my already bad appeara-”

Roman’s mind started to go on full alert when Virgil started explicitly voicing his self-deprecation.

“No.”

Virgil’s words died in his throat. He blinked. “What?”

“Do-...don’t...don’t change,” Roman managed to blurt out in a croaky voice. “Not unless you...you want to.”

“B-but I don’t loo-”

“Yes. Wait- no.” Roman threw his free hand to his forehead. “You look good.”

Virgil’s face pinkened. “Don’t just say that to be-”

“I...I’m not-” Roman took a deep breath, forming his next sentence carefully. “If you want to grade your appearance for some godforsaken reason even though that is very unhealthy, base it on me from two minutes ago unable to speak or move, hell, base you can base it on me now: unable to articulate my thoughts properly. Virgil, you need to...um...I am very very gay, and you need to understand that...that’s why I am acting this way. Be-because...because you are very pretty. Handsome. Beautiful.”

“Huh?” Virgil’s voice was two octaves higher.

“Yeah. Don’t change,” Roman repeated, “unless you truly don’t like it. Please.”

Virgil swallowed, looking back down at his outfit. “Alright. I won’t.”

Roman’s phone vibrated, signaling a text. He opened it and found that Janus had texted him saying he and Logan had been working all day without food so they started dinner already, and that Roman was a “slow jerk who takes his time” for not being at the dinner table faster.

“What is it?”

“They’ve already started eating.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry. That’s my fau-”

Roman, still looking at his phone, put a finger in front of Virgil’s mouth. Virgil stopped talking, and Roman kept his finger there as he put his phone away. “Don’t apologize. This is good.”

“...How?”

“We can have a dinner date in the Imagination together tonight,” Roman suggested, staring lovingly into Virgil’s eyes. “Just you and me. If you’d like.”

“I’d, um, really like that,” Virgil said, cheeks red and eyes cast down to his skirt. He started to play with its hem. “A lot.”

“I figured, since this incident is basically my, albeit terrible, love confession- wait, you would?”

Virgil turned his head back up and met Roman’s eyes. “Yeah. It sounds cool, or whatever, to go on a date with you,” he cringed at his awkwardness, “romantically.”

Roman’s eyes widened as he grinned and his entire face alit with happiness. “I am so glad, Stormy Knight!”

Virgil bit his lip. He looked a bit nervous for half a second, but then straightened his posture and stood on his toes, planting a kiss on the tip of Roman’s nose. “I’m glad you’re happy, Princey.”

Roman’s face flushed and his brain went blank at the kiss, but as soon as he registered it, he (somehow) grinned wider and picked up Virgil, spinning him in his arms. Virgil shrieked at Roman to put him down. Roman could tell he only did so because he was blushing up a storm.

Roman set Virgil down, then gently pushed Virgil back two paces so his back was against the mirror. Roman’s expression turned sincere.

“Virgil,” he said softly, like the name was fragile and could break if uttered at a louder volume, “may I, perhaps, have a kiss before we eat?”

Virgil nodded, unable to speak.

Roman put his arms around Virgil’s waist and brought their lips together. He kissed him intensely, but not roughly, and held him like he was a glass case holding all the things Roman treasured most. Virgil kissed back, wrapping his arms around Roman’s shoulders.

Dinner could wait for a couple of minutes.

~

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff

My first fic published to this account! Yay! I’ve always wanted to write another side being gay about one of the sides in a skirt, and I finally got the motivation to tonight with Virgil’s cool outfit! I hope you liked it!

#prinxiety #ts fanfic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #romantic prinxiety #virgil in a skirt #roman is gay #ts roman #ts virgil #food mention tw #kissing tw #virgil #roman #kill writes #fic #sides in skirts

[the-cheese-writes]

Makeover ~ Prinxiety

TW: Deadnaming, transphobia, mentions of dysphoria, one use of bad language

Word count: 3148

A/N:

Virgil is mtf and lesbian and Roman is now a girl called Rowan :3

Hope you enjoy this fluffy fic that was actually inspired by a scene from Burlesque.

~ Bre

----------

“Virgil! Can you help your father with something please?” Cringing at her deadname, Vera closed her notebook and stashed it away before calling back to her mother.

“Coming mum!” When she got downstairs, she saw her dad holding up a shelf on the wall and holding out a screwdriver for her.

“Virgil!” She cringed again. “There you are. Come help me with this,” her father said. Taking the screwdriver, she grabbed a few nails from the box and screwed them into place, twisting firmly until they were secure.

Stepping back, she smiled a little at her dad and handed back the tool. “Thanks son. You seem to know the basics, which is great! Diy skills are a great trait to have in a husband. Whoever your wife will be one day will be happy.”

Though she was crying inside, Vera nodded and plastered the best smile she could for her parents before turning around and quickly heading back up to her room. She was on the brink of tears and as soon as she closed her door, she broke down, feeling an overwhelming wave of discomfort and utter hatred for herself and her body wash over her.

Her parents would never understand. How could they? They were cisgender heterosexuals; they could never fully understand the dysphoria people like her had. How damaging it was, how detrimental it could be to her and her mental health and how pronouns were so much bigger and meaningful than mere words.

Knowing she couldn’t take this alone, Vera texted her best friend, Rowan and asked if she could come over. Within seconds, she got a reply and Rowan, being the gracious princess of a girl she was, said that she could.

Grabbing her hoodie, Vera made her way down and out the door, telling her parents where she was going before she left.

“Mum, Dad, I’m going to Rowan’s,” she said as she grabbed her keys from the shelf.

“Okay sweetie! See you later,” her mum replied. For a moment, Vera thought she had survived and quietly exhaled relievedly. But unfortunately, her satisfaction didn’t last long.

“Bye son!” She heard her father call just before she fully closed the door. 

And that tipped the scale. 

A waterfall of silent tears plummeted down her face as all her pent up feelings of bitterness and disdain crashed down with them. She sobbed soundlessly through the streets all the way to Rowan’s house, her hood hiding her face and tears from everyone who passed.

Those who gave her a small look, whether it be from sympathy or disgust, didn’t bother talking to her, but that was just as well, because she couldn’t deal with social interaction at that moment. All she cared about was reaching Rowan because, as far as she was concerned, she was the only person who would be able to comfort her and know what to do.

Vera considered knocking at the front door, but then she realised that Rowan’s parents might be home, and she definitely didn’t want them seeing her in her ruined state. So she climbed in through the window, as she usually did, because if you don’t go into your best friend’s home through the window, are you guys even best friends?

Hearing rustling outside, Rowan smirked and turned around on her chair after she heard her window open.

“Really? Coming in through the window? Why did you need to put in all that effort when you could have just simply walked through the door…” Rowan’s voice trailed off once she saw Vera’s tear stained cheeks and messy hair through her purple plaid-pattern patched hood.

“Virgil?” She instantly ran forward and hugged her.

Vera knew she meant well, but Rowan accidentally deadnaming her only brought forward more tears to the table and she broke down in her friend’s arms.

They sank to the floor, Rowan holding her the whole time and when they eventually pulled away from the hug, Rowan took Vera’s hands in her own and lowered her hood.

“Hey, hey,” Rowan said softly, rubbing the back of Vera’s hands with her thumb, then wiping away a few tears from her cheeks. “What’s wrong hun?”

Looking down at their hands, Vera stared at them and blushed a bit at the feeling of Rowan’s gentle, ever-comforting touch on her skin. She gazed up at the gorgeous girl in front of her and shook like a leaf as she considered telling her best friend her biggest secret.

Revealing to Rowan what Vera had been wanting to tell her for so long could potentially put a strain on their friendship and Vera had such a strong bond with Rowan - she didn’t want to lose it. But she figured that one day, Rowan would find out the truth, so why not now, when they were in their teen years and could still live life to the fullest?

“I…” Vera began and Rowan leaned in in anticipation. “I was… deadnamed.” Holding her breath, Vera anxiously glanced up at her friend through her bangs. Rowan’s expression was unreadable at first, but then a confused look was painted across her face.

“Deadnamed… but that’s what happens when-” she mumbled, then cut herself off, realising what Vera had just told her. She stared at her with wide eyes. “Are you saying that… that-”

Vera nodded, bucket loads of tears springing through her eyes. “I’m trans.”

She cried into her palms and braced herself for the worst, knowing what Rowan’s reaction would be.

‘You’re trans? How can you be trans? You were born a boy so you’ll stay a boy.”

“Trans? But you’re 16 you’re just confused. Give it a few more years you’ll grow out of it,”

“Are you sure you aren’t just interested in girl stuff?”

“How can you expect me to just suddenly use these pronouns for you now? Do you know how hard that is?”

She would be just like her parents and then she would lose everyone. Her loved ones, her friends and most likely her home. Frantic thoughts churned around her mind as she quietly cried.

‘I’ll be homeless, unloved, forgotten, discarded, abandoned I’ll never-’

A pair of warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kind embrace, halting her train of worries. Weeping into her friend’s shoulder, Vera allowed Rowan to hold her, stroke her hair and comfort her, washing away all her negative thoughts with a single touch.

“I’m so sorry I deadnamed you. You’re no more different to me than you were before. I still see you and view you exactly the same,” said Rowan in a soft voice, calming Vera’s frenzied nerves. “You’re my best friend and I’d never trade for even the biggest diamond in the world, even though that’s already you.”

Taking Vera’s face in her hands, Rowan wiped away more tears from her cheeks and this time, they finally stopped falling. There was a beat of silence. Vera hung her head and steadied herself and her breathing.

“Do you have a new name?” asked Rowan after she saw Vera compose herself.

“Yeah,” she answered, fidgeting with her hands. “It’s Vera.”

Rowan gasped and smiled, placing a hand to her chest. “Girl, that’s a gorgeous choice.”

Hearing Rowan nickname her ‘Girl’ sparked a new and welcome feeling in Vera. It felt freeing, ecstatic, joyous and her whole soul was more jubilant than it ever had been before.

It’s funny how much one small word can affect a person.

“Thanks,” she beamed. “I wanted to choose something unique and interesting. ‘Vera’ just stood out to me.”

“And it fits you like a glove,” Rowan added almost instantly, without any hesitation. Blushing, Vera looked down and hid her face.

“You can still call me Vee though. I always liked that nickname,” she said, laughing softly.

“Whatever you want, Vera,” said Rowan, smiling and Vera delightfully grinned back. Suddenly, Rowan’s face fell and raised a hand to her cheek. “Oh no. Your concealer and eye shadow’s wiping away…”

“It’s nothing, just makeup I’ll live,” Vera chuckled softly, holding Rowan’s hand on her face.

“Nothing? Nothing?? Makeup is more than just nothing. It makes us feel dazzling, beautiful, stunning and just downright gorgeous.” Raising her hands and moving them flamboyantly, Rowan stood up and walked to her drawers and opened the top one. She seemed to be searching for something, Vera noticed, hearing the rustles and movement.

“Hmm,” Rowan hummed quietly. Vera tilted her head, intrigued.

“What’s up?”

“I’m running low on eyeshadow and other makeup supplies.”

“Wait, didn’t you just buy some new ones 2 months ago?” asked Vera. Rowan just went silent.

“Your point being?” she eventually replied, turning around with her hands on her hips and Vera giggled. Smiling at her laugh, Rowan then grabbed a bag from her chair - that was unsurprisingly already packed - and took her best friend’s hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Out. I’m giving you a makeover,” Rowan said with a smirk, before pulling Vera out the door with her.

After she grabbed her keys and said goodbye to her parents, the two girls walked to the town centre, discussing Vera’s sense of style along the way. Rowan seemed to understand her preferences and when they arrived at the mall, she got to work straight away buying all the clothes that would look great on her.

“Vee look at this!” Holding up a black skirt, Rowan showed it to her friend, who beamed at the sight of it.

“Ro I love it!” She then lowered it to her waist to measure.

“It seems like it’s your size. Wanna try it on?” All of a sudden, Vera’s anxiety spiked. It was then that she remembered that, though she was a girl, she still looked like a boy to those around her.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean…” she gestured to herself and Rowan’s eyes softened in sympathy. Gently, she held Vera’s shoulders.

“I understand Vee. I’m not gonna ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with yet. We can just try it on back at my place,” she reassured comfortingly in a soft voice, melting Vera’s heart and walls. She blushed and smiled back, then Rowan held up the skirt. “So we’re getting it?” she asked eagerly and Vera nodded.

After around an hour and a half later of shopping, Vera looked down at the three bags they had. They didn’t buy a lot, since she had found a way to reuse most of her old clothes, but purchased a decent amount of new, more feminine clothes. To finish their shopping spree, they were lastly going to buy some makeup for them both.

But Vera felt a little guilty seeing that Rowan had spent all her savings on her. She knew that Rowan wouldn’t want her too, but she couldn’t help it.

“Hey Ro?” Vera said. Rowan hummed in response and turned her head. “I appreciate all of this, I do. But you really didn’t need to bother yourself so much with me-”

“Ahem? Back. The hell. Up.” Rowan suddenly stopped in her tracks and raised her free hand, pointing up her index finger. Vera couldn’t stop the smile etching onto her face from her amusing actions as she turned around to her. (She had stopped a couple steps ahead.) Rowan was always an extravagant queen; Vera didn’t know why she didn’t expect this to happen.

“I very much did need to bother myself with you,” Rowan stated, taking a few paces forward towards her. “This shopping session was to help get your mind off all the current shit happening in your life, since it’s not fair that it’s all happening to you. I’m here to help build your confidence, however I can, and obviously clothes play a big role in it.” She held up the bag she was holding and Vera chuckled. However, her face quickly fell.

“But.. your money-”

“Was well spent. Whatever I was saving up for doesn’t matter anymore and in actual fact I can’t remember what it was, nor do I even care now! All I know is that I spent it well and on a beautiful, gorgeous, caring, sweet girl,” said Rowan, emphasising the word ‘girl’ and making Vera beam. She hugged her friend tighter than she ever had before and when she pulled away, a bold thought suddenly crossed her mind as their eyes met, but she hastily swiped it away.

“Come on.” Rowan took her hand and led her to their last store. “Let’s finish our shopping session.”

***

“Are you done yet?” Rowan called from outside her room. Vera was inside, trying on the clothes they had bought and this was her final outfit. She was so excited to see her new friend in all her gorgeous glory and Vera had teased that this was definitely her favourite clothing combination. Rowan waited impatiently for her, tapping her feet and leaning against the door.

“Almost!”

After around 15 more seconds, Vera finally said, “Alright! You can come in now!” and Rowan wasted no time in opening the door. She gasped and froze in shock and awe.

“Vera… you look so marvellous,” she said, barely any louder than a whisper. Vera had managed to steal her breath away, merely by just standing there.

She wore a purple, oversized printed t-shirt accompanied by the black and white grid skirt they saw earlier. A pair of black lace-up boots sat at her feet and black mesh tights covered her legs, and to top it all off, Vera wore a few silver chains around her neck, accentuating her whole look and a couple of silver earrings too.

To put it simply, Rowan was starstruck.

“Thanks,” Vera said shyly, looking down to hide her burning blush. “I wish my hair was a little longer though.” Blowing a few chocolate strands out of her view, Vera reached up a twirled a couple as Rowan took some steps closer.

“I think you’d look exquisite either way and, to be honest, I kinda prefer this look more with a pixie cut. It suits you,” she said with a sweet smile, which Vera returned.

“Thank you Ro.”

Rowan then pulled her over to her bed and sat her down as she searched in their bags for their newest makeup items. She handed Vera a brush and her concealer and foundation, but Vera pushed them back.

“Actually, can you do it this time? It’s not that I’m uncomfortable or anything, but I just wanted you to do it, “ she said innocently, gazing up with wide eyes. 

“U-uh. Sure. Okay,” Rowan stuttered. Gingerly, she reached up and brushed Vera’s hair out of her face, their eyes momentarily locking, then gave her a headband to wear. “What do you want?” she asked after Vera had put it on.

“Um, I dunno. Surprise me,” Vera winked and Rowan smirked, then set to work.

The two played Disney songs as Rowan worked and sang to their hearts’ content, but occasionally smudged a few aspects of the look in doing so. Rowan didn’t mind though. As long as they were having fun, she didn’t mind if Vera accidentally messed it up a thousand times. As long as she got to see her smile.

When she was finished, Rowan got a mirror and handed it to Vera. “Take a look.” And she did, gasping quietly as she admired her eyeshadow and most of all, her lips. They were a kind of ombre tone - lined black and gradually fading into a subtle burgundy red.

“Jee-muh-nattie Ro, you really outdid yourself here. Colour me impressed!”

“Thanks Vee,” Rowan grinned. “The lipstick should be dry by now.” She then started tidying her things and packing up her brushes and new palette, storing them back in their drawer. Vera was still admiring her appearance in Rowan’s full-body mirror when she finished cleaning up. Truth be told, Rowan loved how much Vera was loving her looks and who she saw in the mirror. It wasn’t every day that she was so confident, and Rowan was so glad to see a shift in her self-esteem.

“You look absolutely stunning, you know,” she complimented as she sat back down on her bed, making Vera’s face instantly flush.

“Thank you Ro, for everything you’ve done for me today,” Vera said as she joined her.

“Ah, it was nothing,” Rowan waved it away, but Vera shook her head.

“No, seriously. You don’t know how much it’s helped me.” She took her friend’s hands in her own. “I don’t know what I would do without you, I’m not sure what I would have done in that moment if you weren’t there to help me. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart Ro, for all you’ve done since day one.”

Tilting her head slightly, Rowan smiled kindly at her best friend, feeling her face heart up the longer she stared. “And thank you for being the incredibly charming little cherub you are!” she replied, booping Vera’s nose and causing her to giggle.

Her expression soon turned to concern however, as she remembered that Vera didn’t actually live with her (unfortunately). “Vera, what are you going to do when you get home? Won’t your parents think spitefully when they see you like this?”

Looking down, Vera furrowed her eyebrows worriedly, all the while grasping Rowan’s hands. “I’m not sure. I don’t really know what I’m gonna do, because they obviously are too scared to accept me.” Rowan nodded understandably. “But, right now I just want to focus on now, and being here with you and spending the best minutes of my life with you.”

“As do I,” replied Rowan, raising Vera’s knuckles up to her lips and kissing them softly, flustering her.

Then their eyes locked, again, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes. Suddenly the world was still and quiet, the wind stopped blowing and the room around them faded away. And before they knew it, they were kissing.

It was sweet and juvenile, like them, and their lips moved perfectly together, fitting flawlessly like pieces in a puzzle. Rowan raised a hand to Vera’s cheek, slowly sliding it down to her neck, whilst Vera grabbed her opposition’s waist, pulling her in closer ever-so-gently.

After a couple minutes they pulled away, muted by shock and the butterflies dancing in their stomachs. Rowan was the one to break the silence, laughing breathlessly and grinning, Vera soon doing the same. She hesitantly looked up, their eyes meeting again and Rowan grazed a tender hand on her cheek, which Vera leaned into.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” she said lovingly, completely entranced. “Be my girlfriend?”

“Of course!” Vera replied excitedly, almost instantly and lunged at Rowan, encasing her in a hug but causing them to tumble off the bed and onto the floor in a laughing heap.

#sanders sides #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #brewrites #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #hurt/comfort

[shadowedmoonlight]

3 Times Virgil Came Out to Others + 1 Time Someone Came Out to Him

I am aware that I am a few hours late, but this is the longest oneshot I've ever written

Day 3: Coming out

Warnings: Food mention, talk of sexual attraction (In regards to asexuality), anxiety, disassociation (brief)

Summary: In which the story gains a plot ft. fluff and hurt/comfort

Word count: 4025

Read on Ao3

Masterlist

1.

Virgil hadn’t been this terrified in a long time. He knew that being gay shouldn’t be that big of a deal, in regards to his two gay fathers, but he couldn’t stop the terrifying thoughts from running through their head.

What if they thought he was too young to have figured himself out? They were only fifteen after all. Is he even sure they're gay? And what would they think about the pronouns thing? Vigil had no idea where their dads stood on transgender rights.

They had planned to do it after dinner. That way he could have one last dinner of peace in the unlikely event of something going wrong. It's more likely than you think they’re gonna kick you out, you’re gonna have to live on the streets

Emile had made spinach lasagna that night. Virgil’s favorite. But he could hardly enjoy it due to the nerves stirring in his stomach. Instead, he moved the food around on his plate and attempted to pay attention to the conversation occurring before him.

He believed his dad was telling some dramatic story about some lady that came into the coffee shop. They normally would be completely invested in that sort of thing, but they just couldn’t focus with all the thoughts running around his head.

What is he gonna do if he gets kicked out? They can’t live on the streets. He can barely work a stove. How would he live on his own? Maybe Remus or Janus would take him in? No, they have their own problems. They shouldn’t burden them with his own problems. But how would he-

“Virgil? What do you think?” A voice cut through his spiral.

“Hm- wha-?” Virgil couldn’t recall for the life of them what he was supposed to be responding to. He looked up to see his parents both looking at him concernedly.

“You feeling okay, hon? It's not like you to space out like that,” Emile asked.

Virgil winced. He had to learn to be less obvious to when they were stressed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

They still looked doubtful. “Are you sure?” Remy raised an eyebrow.

Virgil nodded and tried for a small smile. He didn’t think it was successful, however, when his parents exchanged a worried glance. His leg bounced slightly under the table. Why couldn’t they relax?

Emile started to collect the dishes but paused when their eyes landed on Virgil’s still-full plate. He glanced again at their husband, and then their son.

“Maybe you should head to bed early tonight. You hardly touched your food. You might be coming down with something.” Virgil saw Remy stand up as his Papa spoke. He offered them a hand.

“Babes, I think that might be a good idea. You’re looking a bit pale- well, paler than usual with all that foundation you cake on. Don’t think I don’t notice.” Virgil blushed, slightly. His experimentation with makeup had been one of his ways to tone down their glaring masculinity.

In response to the first statement, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to put this off another day. They weren’t sure they had enough energy or confidence to go through with this. With a little hesitation, they grabbed Remy's hand and hauled himself to their feet.

Emile smiled sadly at their son’s submissiveness. He had to have been really tired with the way his eyes kept wandering. They abandoned the dishes they were holding, grabbed his other hand, and started leading Remy and Virgil upstairs.

Virgil blinked and suddenly he was in their room. They sat between his parents on his bed. Emile had them leaning against their side as Remy rubbed soft circles into his back. His eyes darted around in confusion.

Remy glanced down and let out a sigh of relief. “Welcome back to this plane of existence.”

Emile smacked their husband lightly. “Sorry baby, we didn’t want to leave you alone while you were disassociating.” Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. They didn’t remember going into an episode.

Remy kissed his forehead and stood up. “We’ll leave you to your peace now. Let us know if you need anything.” Emile began to follow.

Virgil bit their lip. Was he really going to go through all this stress just to chicken out? He took a breath. He was strong. They could do this.

“Wait,” they called out, lightly. “I need to talk to you about something.” His parents halted in their place in the doorway and came back to sit next to them.

“What is it, babe? Did something happen?” Remy grabbed one of his hands.

“No, not exactly,” Virgil said. His breath was starting to stutter.

“Take your time,” Emile said, softly.

Virgil attempted to calm their breathing. It's highly unlikely that this will have a bad outcome, half of his brain rationalized. They are gay themselves, after all.

Yeah, but what about the pronoun thing? The other half argued. You have no idea what they’ll think of it.

Virgil took another deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. They may as well start with the easy one. “I’m… I’m gay.”

Remy placed a hand on his chest and sighed dramatically. “Oh thank god,” he exclaimed. “I’m not sure I could have handled it if I had to raise a straight son.”

Emile smacked him again. Virgil winced slightly at the word ‘son.’ Remy seemed to notice his discomfort and scooted closer. “Of course we love and accept you and everything, but that's all kind of obvious considering, well,” he lifted his hand as wiggled his ring finger, “Is there something else on your mind?”

Virgil nodded, “I, um, want to start using different pronouns. He/they.”

Emile lit up. “Ooh, we can match!”

Virgil’s head shot up. “What?”

Both Emile and Remy looked confused for a second before a horrifying realization dawned on them.

“Did I- never tell you I’m non-binary?” Emile asked, tentativly. They were sure they told Virgil at some point.

Virgil couldn’t help themself. He started to laugh hysterically. After a moment their parents joined in.

“I’m sorry- I just- I’m fifteen years old and you never thought to tell me that vital piece of information?” Virgil wiped tears from his eyes as he continued to giggle.

Emile was bright red. “Trust me, I’m mortified.”

Remy groaned. “That makes two of us.”

Virgil snorted. “I was so worried about how’d you react and this whole time you’re the same thing.”

“Oh honey,” Emile exclaimed. “You should never be worried about telling us something. We support you no matter what.”

“Of course,” Remy added. “What kind of hypocrites would we be if we said otherwise?”

Virgil pulled them both into a hug. “You’re the best parents anyone could ask for.”

2.

Sanders High School had an interesting dynamic. There were two main groups that everyone at school was invested majorly in. Most, if not all, of the gossip in school was directed at them. They were envied. They were hated. They were idolized. They were the closest thing Sanders High ever had to celebrities. The Dark Sides and The Light Sides.

Everyone that saw them would assume they were the rivals. Bickering and prank wars were constant. Classroom debates between members could last hours if not moderated. Each group consisted of three members.

First up is Roman Prince, the flamboyant jock and theater nerd. He was the first kid at school to break through harmful gender stereotypes. Before he came to school, any boy that joined theater was seen as weak and nerdy. Roman was the first openly gay kid on the football team- as quarterback no less- and the first jock to join the drama program. He was unapologetically himself in everything he did. He often came to school in skirts and dresses and there was rarely a day he could be seen without his signature red lipstick. Despite his smashing of stereotypes, Roman is the only cis kid in both the light and dark sides (not that everyone is out to the school like he is, or even to each other). He has the most social media followers out of anyone in the school, and was the one to first publicize the two groups. Roman is a proud member of The Light Sides.

Next is Patton Hart, the bubbly, adorable student council president. Everybody loved Patton and they loved everybody. Patton is one of the kindest kids in the school. He’s always willing to drop everything to help somebody or cheer someone up. They met Roman when they were young and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Some might say they’re dating, but a select few know otherwise.

Last in The Light Sides is Logan Berry. Logan is objectively the smartest kid in school. He is rumored to be taking all AP classes. How that’s possible, no one knows. Everyone knows that Logan will be Valedictorian at the end of the year. There’s no other logical choice. Somehow, even with all that, they also manage to be co-captain of the debate club. Patton and Roman somehow managed to rope them into their small group sometime during elementary school. Again, how that’s possible, no one knows. Logan is extremely stone-faced to people they're not close with. Some think he might be a robot with how emotionless he is most of the time. Those people, however, have never seen him with a jar of Crofters. (But if they knew their secret, everyone would think so).

Over in the dark sides, we have Janus Lies. Genderfluid icon. Their coming out started a revolution of sorts at Sanders High. So many kids came out as non-binary or genderfluid or something in between, the school ended up getting rid of gendered bathrooms entirely. A new genderfluid locker room was built in the PE building and the academic teachers revised their gendered way of teaching. But, back to Janus. They were the most sarcastic person you’d ever meet. So much so, it became difficult for people to tell if they were telling the truth. Their trademark hat and gloves stayed on no matter what the occasion. They also co-captained the debate club with Logan. They grouped together with Remus and Virgil before anyone could remember, including the three dark sides.

Remus Prince, twin of Roman Prince, is the extremely crude drama student and class clown. They are known for their dark sense of humor and sexual disruptions of class. The teachers have learned to just ignore them, as countless trips to detention were fruitless in correcting their behavior. Although they privately came out before Janus, they were more private socially when it came to their gender. Until that is, Janus came out and was accepted. After that, Remus showed no limits in expressing themself.

Lastly, there is Virgil Picani, the emo nightmare themself. He is in almost every club at school, including but not limited to drama, debate, GSA, writing, and volunteering. His sarcastic personality is no stranger to anybody, although it is much more subdued than Janus’s. Virgil came out to Janus and Remus before he had even fully figured himself out yet. He had not, however, come out to any of the light sides as gay or genderqueer.

And that brings us to today. As mentioned earlier, anyone that saw the two groups would assume they had a strong rivalry. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

The reality is, although they did start out as rivals, the six of them have a strong friendship. They keep up the facade of competitors for sake of reputation (and a little fun never hurt anybody). Once Roman and Remus had gotten over their sibling rivalry, the six of them had discovered that they shared many of the same interests. They started hanging out after school and now it is rare to see one of the group without another.

Virgil knows that he has nothing to worry about. Roman is gay, and both Patton and Logan already use he/they pronouns. They accepted Janus and Remus without question. It won’t be any different for him. All they actually had to do was tell them.

But here lies the issue. Virgil thought they had already. It wasn’t until the first day of pride month that he realized their mistake.

They decided to make pronoun pins for all the kids in GSA. So, naturally, he made one for himself as well. They weren't publicly out yet, but it was perfectly okay for them to wear them inside the safety that was the gay-straight alliance.

Virgil was struggling to attach his pin to their shirt when Janus came over to help. Virgil noted the blue bracelet. Janus looked surprised as he read the contents of the pin.

“You told them?” He asked, incredulously. “I thought you would tell me when you finally did it.”

Virgil was confused. “What do you mean? I came out to them… shoot.”

Janus snorted. “You totally don’t need to tell them. This isn’t getting out of hand at all.”

Virgil blushed red. “I honestly thought I did! I’ll do it now, okay?”

They didn’t wait for a response before marching over to Roman, Logan, and Patton and dragging them outside of the classroom. He ignored the curious looks of their classmates, most likely wondering what they were fighting about this time.

They closed the door behind them and looked around quickly, making sure there was no one else around. He turned back to the group that was looking at him, slightly concerned.

Virgil rolled their eyes at their expressions. “Oh calm down, I just forgot to tell you something, is all.”

Logan cleared their throat and straightened up. “And that is?”

“I genderqueer, he/they, and gay.”

“Yay!” Patton exclaimed and pulled him into a hug. “I’m proud of you for being yourself.”

Patton pulled back and Virgil caught the expressions of the other two. Logan was looking at him with a delighted expression on their face. “I had my suspicions.”

Roman furrowed his brows. “So did I, but I must ask, why wait so long to tell us? Surely you knew that we would accept you wholeheartedly.”

Virgil snorted. “I actually did the same thing my Papa did with me. I thought I told you all ages ago.” They all laughed at that.

“We should probably get back,” Logan remarked, “Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us this.”

3.

Virgil felt nervous, but not extremely so.

He knew nothing would go wrong. So many kids had come out in the past year at Sanders High, the school had made pronoun pins mandatory to avoid misgendering. All they had to do was wear the new pin he had grabbed from the office the day before. He also planned to wear a rainbow shirt to identify themself as the flaming homosexual he is.

The only real thing they were worried about would be the gossip surrounding them for the next week or so. Someone coming out is hardly a rare occurrence, but they were one of the most popular kids in school. He was certain that there were at least a few bets going around school on whether they were queer or not. To be fair, he was the only member of the Light and Dark sides to never confirm any rumors about gender or sexuality. And it's not as if he’s really hid anything. He’s just never confirmed.

But they’re ready to change that. They pull on their rainbow shirt, do their makeup slightly more dramatic than usual, and debate for a moment over the plaid purple skirt his dads had gotten him a few years ago. It matched his usual hoodie perfectly, but he had yet to wear it outside the house. There was no reason not to wear it. Why not spend his first day publicly out AGAP (as gay as possible)?

They arrive at school with an air of confidence around them that he hadn’t felt in a while. As he walked through the hallways, he saw a few looks of disappointment, but most were of excitement and joy. They caught a few thumbs up and cheers in the crowd as well.

He found the other two members of the Dark Sides standing at Virgil’s locker, both wearing identical looks of pride as they stared at him. They walked directly up to the pair, smirking slightly. Once he was within earshot, Remus grasped their head with one hand and Janus’s shoulder, striking a dramatic pose.

“Do you see that Jan Jan? Our little slime monster is all grown up!” Virgil rolled their eyes at their best friend’s antics. Janus lifted their wrist to show off her pink band. Despite the new rule about pronoun pins, Janus still kept her bracelet system in place. She claimed it to be simpler and more efficient.

She slung her arm around Virgil’s shoulders. She leaned in and said in a low voice, “I really am proud of you.”

Remus jumped on his back. “That makes two of us!”

+1

Virgil had always enjoyed Logan’s company. They were the only person out of the group of six that allowed him some peace.

He could also be a captivating conversation partner. Listening to Logan ramble on about whatever he was currently studying was one of Virgil's favorite pastimes. The way his eyes lit up when you asked him about something they were interested in was adorable. And his voice would take on this gorgeous tone to it that Virgil knows not many people get to hear.

Their weekly study session was the thing that Virgil looked forward to the most. Every Thursday, they get to spend hours in a room with the most beautiful person he knows. They love the way Logan will straighten his tie or fix his hair even when they’re both immaculate. He loves the way they slowly and patiently explain the answer to something Virgil gets wrong, never criticizing them or getting frustrated.

Virgil may have developed an itty bitty crush on them over the years.

Not that they will ever tell him. They don’t even know where he stands on sexuality. He has only been open about their gender. And he doesn’t want to complicate their relationship for the sake of some silly crush.

The two of them sat in Virgil’s room doing homework. Logan sat on their bed, while Virgil had opted for the floor. They had hardly spoken a word to each other in the past few hours (a normal occurrence for their weekly get-togethers), but Virgil could tell something was bothering Logan. They’d been fidgeting for the past hour or so, and had seemed tense and nervous all day.

Virgil placed their bookmark into his book and groaned loudly. “If I have to read one more word of this, I think my eyes might literally start bleeding.”

Logan also marked their page before looking up. “That is highly unlikely. The amount of force that would cause one's eyeballs to ‘literally’ start bleeding is far more than would be caused by eye strain. Additionally, subconjunctival hemorrhage has not been linked to overuse and is instead usually caused by some sort of trauma to the eye. So unless you are planning to hit yourself in the face with the book, it will not cause your eyes to hemorrhage.”

Virgil huffed a laugh, internally cooing at how adorable they are when explaining something. “I guess you’re right. I can’t read anymore though.”

Logan cleaning their glasses on the edge of his shirt. “I agree with that statement.”

Virgil looked at him closely. Cleaning their glasses is a sort of nervous tick for him. And they had done it multiple times in the last hour. “Okay, what's going on? You’ve been nervous and weird all afternoon.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Nothing of importance.”

“So there is something!” Virgil exclaimed.

They blanched. “No, of course not. What would be wrong at the moment?”

Virgil gave them a look. “I never said that there was something wrong.”

Logan stood up quickly and started gathering his materials. “Well, it’s getting late. I must head home now in order to be at dinner at an adequate time.”

Virgil grabbed their arm. “Wait, Logan, there’s still hours until you need to leave. If you really don’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, we don’t have to. But if you do, I’m here and ready to listen.”

Logan shot them a grateful look. “I truly appreciate that Virgil. I will keep your offer in mind.”

They resumed their study positions and all was silent for a few minutes. Virgil couldn’t keep their mind off of Logan. He hoped that whatever was troubling him could be resolved easily. He didn’t want him to be distressed.

Eventually, Logan stiffly placed his books beside him and turned to their study partner. At the shift in movement, Virgil also put away their materials and prepared to listen, moving to sit next to them on their bed.

“I would like you to not speak until I am done speaking if that is acceptable for you.” Virgil immediately agreed. They would never interrupt him when they were having such a serious conversation.

“My sincerest gratitude. I-” Logan paused. They took a stuttering breath. Virgil reached out and took his hand, attempting to provide some form of comfort.

“I am not a robot. I know that there are some that may think otherwise. Aside from the vast technological inaccuracies in that statement, contrary to popular belief, I do have emotions. I do experience love. Just not in the same way as others do. From a young age, I have known that I have felt no sexual attraction. The idea of sex repulsed me far more than I can explain, even past the age of maturity. I have no desire to love anybody in that way. And I never will.

“I was under the impression that the same went for romantic attraction. I had never felt any sort of romantic feelings for a female. But recent… variables have shown me otherwise. I do not feel any romantic attraction for people of the female gender or sex. I do, however, experience attraction to people of the same gender. These people fall under the male and non-binary spectrum. In conclusion, I am asexual and homoromantic. I am finished, you may speak now.”

Virgil was delighted by the news. They had just confirmed that his crush could possibly be attracted to him. They didn’t care about the asexual part. It changed none of his feelings towards the academic prodigy.

They made the mistake of staying silent for a moment too long. That became evident when he looked at Logan’s face. Any positive feelings he had melted into concern.

“Oh, Lo,” they said softly, “You’re crying.” He brought his hand to Logan’s cheek and wiped away the silent tears that had trickled down with their thumb.

Logan's voice wobbled as they spoke. “My apologies.”

“No,” Virgil cooed, “you have nothing to apologize for. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re accepting yourself and I am so proud of you for that.”

That seemed to be all it would take for their dam to break. Soft sobs escaped his mouth and he brought up a hand to try to muffle them.

Virgil made a sympathetic noise and wrapped them up in their arms. He cupped the back of Logan’s neck with one hand and used the other to rub soothing circles into his back. Logan gripped their hoodie tightly as they cried into their shoulder.

Virgil whispered quiet words of encouragement to him. Eventually, Logan seemed to finally be calming down. His tears dwindled into quiet sniffles and they sagged into his chest. The emotional exhaustion of the day in addition to the exergy expelled by crying made him unbelievably tired.

Virgil shifted the two so they were lying down on his bed, Logan cuddled against their chest. They could feel his breaths evening out rapidly.

Virgil pressed a small kiss into his forehead, wishing more than anything that they could do it when Logan could remember.

Let me know if you want to be added to the non-existent tag list!

#shadow writes #pride month drabbles #virgil sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #ts sleep #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #analogical #deceit sanders #ts deceit #janus sanders #ts janus #ts remus #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts patton #patton sanders #fluff #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #tw food mention #tw dissociation #tw anxiety #tw caps

[madpatkats]

Backfired match-making

Ship: prinxiety, background moceit Setting: human au Description:  Roman and Virgil are tired of Patton and Janus skirting around each other. But, when they decide to play match-makers, their plans backfire. Tw: kissing

Groaning, Virgil pushed open Roman’s door and flopped into his lap.

“Is this about Janus again?”

Nodding, Virgil sighed. “It’s just getting so tiring. Any time I hang out with him it’s ‘Patton this’ and ‘Patton that’.  And, look, popstar is great and all, but I really do not need to hear that he ‘definitely didn’t look absolutely adorable’ every single day.”

Roman laughed at Virgil’s impression of Janus.  And, as he begun running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, an idea dawned on him.

“Perhaps... we just need to give them a little push.”

Sitting up, Virgil squinted slightly at Roman. “I’m listening.”

Roman grinned. “We need to play matchmakers. We just have to set them up on a whole bunch of dates. By the end of it, they’ll definitely be together.”

Smirking, Virgil responded, “Let’s start planning.”

------

For their first idea, they told both of them that they were all going to meet up for coffee in the local café.  Their plan was that they would never turn up, forcing Patton and Janus into a coffee date.  However, Patton had apologised profusely, saying that he was babysitting that day and Janus was busy with some business transaction. So, Virgil and Roman found themselves in the cosy café sipping steamy drinks.

“Do we really have to be here?”

Roman gave Virgil a pointed look. “Yes, Mr. Dark and Gloomy, because we have to keep up the pretence that we were going to be their.  Otherwise, they’ll get sus of us.”

Groaning, Virgil laid his head on the table.

“Hey, it’s not such a bad thing,” Roman muttered. “I get spend the day with the cutest guy ever.”

Virgil snorted, looking up. “Really, where is he?”

Roman rolled his eyes, and Virgil was eternally grateful that he didn’t notice the blush on his cheeks.

------

For the next week, they tried time and time again to set Patton and Janus on dates.  But each time, either one of them was busy, or they returned home as blushing idiots, but nothing had changed.  And, almost every time, Roman and Virgil had somehow ended up being forced to hang out with each other.

Roman was laying on Virgil’s bed, brainstorming new ideas, but every time Virgil dismissed them.

“What’s the point Roman? Nothing has changed and nothing will change.”

Mostly, Virgil was just frightened of what would happen if they kept on having to hang out with each other.  With all the time spent together, Virgil had fallen deeper than ever before, and he had no idea what he would do if they continued to hang out together.

“Can we just do one more thing? Please?  I promise that if that one doesn’t work then we can give up, okay?”

Virgil sighed but nodded. “What’s your idea?”

“Mistletoe.  They make breakfast together every morning so we put one sprig in the doorway to the kitchen and the other in the actual cooking area.”

“You know what,” Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed. “that’s actually a smart idea, which is unusual for you.”

“Hey!”

Virgil sniggered. “I’m kidding okay. Let’s start working before it’s too late.”

-----

Patton was the first in the kitchen. As a morning person, he’d got up before seven and slipped into the kitchen, waiting for his cooking partner to arrive.  About 15 minutes later, Janus slipped down the stairs and into the kitchen.  Quickly, they began cooking.  Silently, Roman shook a sleeping Virgil awake and they watched the couple intensely.

After what felt like lifetimes of sweet compliments, sarcastic comments and giggles, the two finally noticed the mistletoe.  Smiling they looked at each other.

“Well,” Janus whispered, “May I, darling?”

Patton giggled. “Of course!”

Sweetly, they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms and pressed their lips together in a short kiss.  Unable to contain his excitement, Roman leaped out of his hiding place and ended up standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

“Yes, finally!”

“Stop shouting would you?” Virgil muttered, as he joined Roman.

The couple in the kitchen turned to Roman and Virgil.

“I assume that this is your doing?” Janus asked, pointing to the mistletoe.

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed. “We did it so you two would finally confess.”

The couple glanced at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Kiddo, Janus and I have been dating for almost two months.”

The look of shock on the others’ faces sent them into another round of laughter.

After they’d calmed down, Janus stated. “By the way, I’d look up if I was you.”

Cautiously, Roman and Virgil looked up.  Hanging directly above them, was their second sprig of mistletoe.  Both of their faces flushed as red as Roman’s favourite jacket.

“We don’t have to if you-” Virgil sputtered.

“Can we?”

Virgil went quiet. “What?”

Roman took a gentle step forward. “Can I kiss you Virgil?”

Unable to speak, Virgil nodded.  Carefully, Roman lifted his chin with his hand, leaned forward, and captured his lips in a gentle kiss.  Wrapping his arms around his neck, Virgil responded just as sweetly.  And as they kissed, he couldn’t help but think that, perhaps it wasn’t so bad that their match-making backfired.

#this is garbage #oh well #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #ts roman #ts virgil #tw kissing #moceit #patton sanders #deceit sanders #ts patton #ts deceit

[fakeloveaskblog]

aw, sweet loceit in the evening sun. logan is actually super good at explaining healthy relationships and boundaries and stuff actually, i betcha he could recognize abuse no problem

…aye remy! REMY!! HAve you thought about going to that gay bar more often? who knows, maybe you'll encounter someone nice, make friends with like-minded people, hear some disco, the full nine yards. janus might be there, remus might be there. (just look around for the guy with the blue tie, he's a great guy, if he's not wearing it he'll look like he has that blue tie kinda energy! you could totally just get drunk and unload your grievances on him and i bet he won't even mind!)

(Mentions of U!Virgil but I say beforehand when that happens so those who don’t like U!Virgil can enjoy the rest of the fic up until then)

(Words: 4100)

Remy wiped away a tear while looking at your message. The cold light from their phone was the only thing brightening up the room. Virgil was sleeping beside them, his arm was laid around their waist.

"You just like tots gave me the greatest idea! I'm gonna invite Rem out to the bar! It's gonna the funnest thing like ever! Thanks girl!!"

--

2 days later Remus was dangerously close to eating the moss straight from the gay bar's wall. He had been left without supervision for over 15 minutes while he sat outside waiting for his friend to show up, what else was he supposed to do?!

"SSSSUUUP BABE!!!"

Remy came towards him as fast as they could. They had on a short leather skirt, a neon mesh crop top and a leather jacket over it.

They did a little turn "I just like felt a bit glamorous today!" 

Remus choked on his own spit "The world must be a dark place when you aren't feeling glamorous"

"Awwww babbbe"

He sent them a big grin. He'd just put on his usual oversized dysphoria hoodie and matching oversized (:O) sweatpants.

Remus' smile disappeared in an instant as he noticed dark bruises all around Remy's neck. Shades of purple and green collided against each other.

"Ehm did a vampire come and attack you last night? Seriously are you alri-"

"JUst a reminder that it will be loud in there" Remy interrupted.

"Oh. Right!"

He fumbled around in his bag after his headphones. After putting it and a chew necklace on he did a thumbs up. Remy took off their sunglasses and leaned down so they were face to face.

Their face was so close he could feel their breathe against his lips. They put the sunglasses onto him and sent him a soft smile.

“There’s like lots of bright lights too” They explained.

Remus’ heart fluttered. He didn’t understand why “T-thanks”

They moved their arm around his shoulders as they went into the bar. It was past 12 am so some of the daytime furniture had been moved to make place for a dancefloor. There was indeed lots of neon lights flickering all around the bar and fast pop music was blasting through the speakers.

It was hard to see any details of anyone around him so Remus quickly forgot about the bruise. In this lighting it just looked like a weird choker anyway.

A guy with a see through shirt bumped into Remus. He had top surgery scars. For a moment they looked at each other in the most knowing way. The stranger looked away and continued talking with whoever he was with.

Remus whole body seemed to vibrate. There were so many butterflies in his stomach it felt like he was going to puke, in a good way.

Remy sat him down on one of the tall barstools and slumped down right next to him “So whatcha gonna drink?”

“The squashed down organs of my enemies!!!” He shrugged “Soda?”

They burst out into laughter “What? You catholic or something? Not allowed to drink alcohol?”

He slumped in on himself and started fiddling with his necklace “I-I dunno-”

“No. No babe I was just like joking. Like a stupid bitch. It’s okay” They waved at the waiter “Your most alcoholic fruit mix and your finest coca cola please!”

Remus leaned in to whisper “With salt”

“With salt? Please!”

He kept vibrating like an overexcited weasel. After getting their drinks he kept tapping the glass to stim some of the happiness out.

“Honestly I’ve never been to a gay bar before. I’m digging it. Just like how I’m digging graves”

They playfully hit his shoulder “Then I’m tots gonna try my best to make this the  ultimate first gay bar experience! I can’t think of any other lil fucked up gremlin buddy I would wanna have by my side!”

"Muhahah!! I am officially assigned ultimate gremlin buddy-”

“Greetings” A voice suddenly came from behind them.

Both of them flinched away. Remy let out a short yell and Remus was close to throwing his drink in the person’s face when he saw it was just Logan.

He had on jeans and a black button up with the top button unbottoned. He had with him iced coffee from starbucks because he had to drive home later.

“LOGIE!!!” Remy threw their arms around his neck to pull him closer “Babe this is the Log-legend. Once he was like sooo drunk so when he like tried to kiss me puked on my shoes instead!”

Logan grimaced “I am still very sorry about that”

“Oh I already know him through Janus” Remus replied. 

“Oh my gawd babe” Remy looked between them all “So like we all know Janny?! Wig! Sad he isn’t here then”

Remus held up his cola “Cheers to J-anus!” The other two held up their glasses in agreement.

“Cheers”

“Cheerio!”

“He is very pretty and charming and cute” Logan dreamily sighed. He stopped himself from continuing to say compliments.

“Yeah” The other two sighed back in unison.

Logan sat down on a chair next to them. Remy looked around the bar before squinting at him “No Patty?”

He instantly started looking like a Very sad seal “Sadly my wife is away on a convention with her magical girl anime fanclub this whole week. I estimated that going to the bar would make me feel less lonely”

“You have a WIFe??? Like a real one???” Remus exclaimed, his eyeballs were close to popping out from surprise.

“Yes. This may be a controversial opinion but when I marry someone I prefer them to be physically real” He replied druly.

He got a smug grin on his lips “Does she peg you?”

“She does far more than just peg me”

“Nice!” His eyes went even wider “IS That a stim toy??!”

He pointed at the tangle Logan kept between his fingers “Correct. If I do not have something to relieve my focus onto I can easily go into senso- OH a chewie?”

Remus nodded while showing of his chew necklace. The two of them started rambling about their favorite stim toy. Until they went off into special interests (star trek/astronomy and art/animal biology respectively).

Soon enough Remus was showing pictures of the animal bones he’d found. Logan ooeh and ahhed at all of them before asking the most nerdy of questions (where he’d found them, their bone density, if any damage had been done to them) which only made Rem infodump which made Lo infodump which made them both happy stim.

Meanwhile Remy sat beside them completely zoned out. They got time to drink 2 more of those fruit mixes and a few shots. The room was starting to spin.

The loud music wasn’t keeping out the yelling. They dunked their forehead against the bar table and covered their ears to try and get it out. The music was supposed to keep it out! Why was nothing working! The bruise ached. Their throat closed in on itself until they couldn’t breathe. 

“Remus” They gasped out. They looked over to their friend with a desperate look in their eyes. They just needed a distraction.

“So my theory for why you keep finding bones in specifically that part of the woods is because of the kind of dirt making it take longer for them to deco-” Logan was explaining while Remus nodded along.

“Rem! L-let’s like go up and dance or something. Please” 

This time it caught Remus’ attention. He looked over to them “Sure- are you feeling alright? Did you drink too much? You’re looking like a mummy”

“Yes. No. I just like- Like- They’re playing Charli xcx of course we gotta like dance!!”

“I will protect your belongings then” Logan added.

Remy stumbled up on shaky legs. Remus sent them a warm smile that made them want to cry before taking their hand. He let them lead him out to the dancefloor. Honestly he was pretty nervous about it, but being with them always made some of the anxiety melt away.

They stumbled on their own feet and fell forward. Their friend took ahold of their wrists and pulled them close to his chest. Their faces were so close to each other. So so close.

He didn’t let go. They couldn't remember him ever letting them hold him this close. Their chests pressed against each other. Their arms around his shoulders. His hands on their back. 

"You’re right. It is a good song. Good to crash a car too" Remus said absentmindedly.

Remy let up into shaky giggles from how sudden he’d said it “Yeah. Yeah I guess” 

They kept giggling. He chuckled back. He started spinning around on the dancefloor. They moved with him. His arms wrapped closer around their waist. Their cheek leaned against the slope of his neck (even though they had to lean down to get on his height level).

Remy quietly sang along to the music which made Remus start yelling along to it. The enby threw their head back from laughter. They took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Remus moved his hand out and spun them around before pulling them close again. Their cheeks were flushed red, his was as well. He playfully dipped them down when the song ended.

It continued on into a song neither of them knew but they kept dancing anyway. They didn’t stay as pressed close to each other but they always had some contact. Holding hands. An arm around a waist. A head leaning against a chest.

When they finally got back to the bar table they were both panting. Remy was completely leaning on Remus since their body had started to hurt, but even through the pain they were both bubbling over with so much happiness they kept breaking out into bouts of giggling.

To their surprise Logan wasn’t sitting alone. A tall person with long dark hair sat on the chair beside him. Xir hand was on his thigh. The nerd had a soft smile on his face as they leant close to talk.

“Uh Lo?” Remus had to wave his arms around to get his attention.

His head shot around to look at them “Hello” He glanced to the person “These are the ones I was protecting belongings for” He stood up and held out his hand “Shall we?” Xir took it. Logan waved at his friends before going off to the dancefloor with the stranger.

“Huh. Good for him” 

“I guess”

Remy ordered another high alcohol fruit mix. Remus happily chewed on his necklace while humming along to the music. Between their chairs their hands hang with their fingers intertwined. Holding their hand had started to make Remus feel all funny in the head for some reason.

The enby watched on as Logan and the stranger danced for a bit before moving to a corner to make out. When the stranger started to lead him towards the bar’s bathrooms Remy turned to their friend.

“Yeah okay he’s not coming back for like a while. Smoke break?”

“Of course!”

They finished their drink before leaving the bar. The pair stopped right outside. Remus sat down on the side of the pavement. Remy tried to sit down but they stumbled over themself and fell flat on the ground.

Remus got up to help “Are you okay? Are you sure you haven’t drank too much?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine” They laughed out.

He sat them down on the pavement while dusting off their clothes. He patted them on the head while pouting “You should get some water”

“Naaaah babe. I’m good”

In the moonlight the bruise was visible again. That horrible dark purple bruise around their neck. It looked like it hurt.

Remus put his hand on their shoulder “Beanie are you alright? I do know it wasn’t some halloween monster that got you that bruise”

For a moment their whole body tensed, they forced a smile “It’s fine. me and my boyf just tried like some new kinky shit in the bedroom y’know. Nothing more” They lied.

They took out a cigarette pack and a lighter from their bag. They traced their thumb over Remus’ lower lip and opened his mouth just slightly. Remy leaned closer while putting a cigerette between his lips. They lit it.

Remus took a deep breathe. It’d been a while since he’d last smoked. He leaned so close the cigarette nearly touched Remy’s skin. They parced their lips as he breathed out the smoke right into their mouth.

A smile spread on their lips. He held the cigarette over to them but they shook their head. They looked around in their bag again and took out a small poppers bottle.

“Should you really take that. Won’t your brain melt out of your ears?” Remus asked “I really don’t wanna have to slorp up your brain juice...yet”

“Relax babe. It’s like not dangerous as long as I don’t like take too much and I only take when partying” It took a moment before they quietly added “And I only party when I need to get out of the apartement”

“What?”

They forced on a bigger smile “What?”

Remy moved the popper up to their nose and inhaled as much of it as they could. It took a few seconds before they let up into a giggle. It was in a higher tone than their usual bubbly laugh, it almost sounded like cackling. They could see stars.

(U!Virgil mentions from here on out)

“Y’know my boyfriend gave me like a flashback or whatever last night” They giggled while swaying from side to side.

Remus gently grabbed their shoulders and moved them to lean against him so they wouldn’t fall over “Uhu. Did you stab him?”

“No silly. He just. He’d been soooo sweet all weeek and I just I just ruined it ‘cause i like overeacted to some joke he made while like we were washing the dishes” They were barely even aware they were speaking “And like it just kept going until we were like screaming at each other”

Remy was still smiling and giggling between every word but tears started to form in their eyes. Their fingers felt numb. Bile was rising in their throat.

“And he just like threw the plate he was holding down on the ground. And it like didn’t hit me. He wasn’t even aiming at me. He was just throwing it at the ground. But it shattered and it was so stupid and overemotional and stupid and pathetic but I just I just curled up on the floor and like had a panic attack like a stupid baby”

They smeared their hand across their face to try and get the tears away. They felt sick. Remus quickly put out his cigarette, it didn’t feel like the right time to smoke.

“And I just like- Is that normal? Is that fine? Like throwing stutff like that? I-I- he’s never done it before. Or I mean like not plates” They looked up at Remus “Is it fine?”

He gulped while fiddling with his hoodie sleeve “Well uh did he apologize?”

“Mhmm. He like- like for some minutes he like kept yelling ‘cause he thought I was just like faking a panic attack to like I dunno manipulate him but then he like comforted me and like calmed me down and like held me and cuddled all night until I fell asleep and- and he said sorry a bunch of times and like he said it would never happen again. He uh usually doesn’t lie”

“Well ehm then it should be fine right? Right?” They both shrugged at each other “I mean everyone can make mistakes! And it was during an argument! Everyone does drastic things during an arguments! So it’s fine. I think”

A shaking breathe of relief left Remy’s lips. They stretched themself over his lap and he moved his arms around them. “Thanks babe. I was like tots worried for a bit but y’know i was thinking like that too. So it’s fine”

“Yeah” He combed his fingers through their hair “You do know you can vent to me whenever right? I promise I won’t gross you out with details about how to pull out rabbit teeth ever again so if I can hold that back then I can also listen to stuff! I can super listen!!”

They closed their eyes. They felt so tired. So tired and sick and horrible. “Mhm. I know babe. I know”

Remy sent him a soft smile before suddenly puking. Some of it came on his pants but mostly on the ground. Remus stood up and carefully moved them down to a sitting position.

He rubbed up and down their back with one hand and held their hair back with his other. Their shoulders were shaking and they were taking in shallow breathes between every sudden throw up.

“It’s okay beanie-boo. Breathe. Breathe. You got all the time in the world. Until the sun blows up at least”

“I-I took- too much- too much” They slurred out before lurching forward again. It seemed to stop for now.

“I’m aware” He carefully wiped away some of the puke left around their mouth with his hoodie sleeve.

They leaned back against his chest. They closed their eyes and focused on breathing. He held them so so gently. As if they would break like glass otherwise. He pressed a kiss to the top of their head.

“There you are!” Logan said as came through the bar entrance “What a relief. I assumed you had left without me because you thought my actions were unacceptable” He noticed how pale and shaky Remy looked and got a worried look on his face “Is everything alright?”

“They feel like someone has slammed a fish into their stomach. Not good” Remus replied.

“I see. I suppose it woud be best to get them home”

Logan picked Remy up with ease to carry them to his car. He was quite sure he’d carried dogs that weighted more than them. Remus anxiously followed along.

He sat them in the passenger seat. He shook their shoulders until they opened their eyes. They let out a quiet whine.

He held up 4 fingers “Remy how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Fuck yourself”

“Noted”

They moved to the side and seemed to pass out again. Logan closed the door before turning to Remus.

“Did they take anything?” He whispered.

“Only a popper”

“Good. Do you need a ri-”

“Bus”

“Okay” Logan was about to go but stopped midstep and lowered his voice even more “Oh and Rem...Could you please not ask Janus to hang out next weekend? I am planning a surprise...I hope it will make him happy”

“Good luck comrade....Please text me once Remy is home safe. Please?”

“Of course”

He did a little nod before leaving. Logan got into the car. He couldn’t stop looking at the bruise around their neck. Remy continued to sleep for most of the ride until they they were 5 minutes or so away from their apartment. They suddenly flinched awake.

“Stop the car!” They gasped out. 

“Are you still feeling the same?”

“Logan stop the fucking car!” There was fear in their eyes. 

Logan stopped by the side of the road. The road was barren and dark. It had to be past 3 am at least. Remy crawled back into the backseats while their whole body shook.

“Don’t. Look. At. Me”

“Sure” He stared down into the steering wheel to not accidentally see their reflection in the glass.

“I just. I just have to change clothes. I just. I don’t want Virigl to call me a whore again. I mean. He won’t. But what if. What if he gets mad. I just. I just have to change” They slurred out.

They stumbled out of the car after changing into a pair of long pants and closing their leather jacket. A cold chill went up Logan’s spine. He quickly stepped out of the car as well.

“Okay bye bye Logie!!”

They tried to move but Logan grabbed onto their shoulders. He forced back a choking feeling in his throat “What do you mean by your boyfriend getting mad?”

“Pff! It’s nothing! I’m drunk!! Byyyeeeeee”

They started to stumble away but Logan easily followed along “It did not sound like he called you a whor-...you know what...with your consent. I am simply going to remind you that calling a partner things like that is not okay. Not in any circumstance”

Remy’s expression turned cold. They walked faster “I don’t like what you’re implying”

“I’m not implying anything”

“Yes you Fucking are!”

“Exscuse me for being worried about your wellbeing. What you just said sounded like a very bad sign”

“Yeah exactly it only SOUnded bad! My boyfriend isn’t bad!” Remy snarled out.

“I am not saying he is. He doesn’t have to be bad to say awful things, as long as he changes”

They shoved their hands into their pockets. Their hands moved into fists “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. You tried to kiss me once when you were drunk and that’s all. We don’t know each other”

Logan took a deep breathe “I don’t need to know you to see red flags. Remy-” He searched for words “Remy you’re bruised. How- you can’t expect me to not get worried”

Remy suddenly stopped and turned around to meet his eyes. “MY BOYFRIEND ISN’T ABUSIVE! I-”

“I’m not necessarily saying he is. I just wan’t to talk-” His voice started to sound desperate.

They looked like a cornered animal. Tears were brimming at the edges of their eyes “YOU DON’T KNOW A THING!”

“Remy-”

“I DID THIS TO MYSELF!” Their hand went up to the bruise “I DESERVED IT! VIRGIL DIDN’T DO A FUCKING THING! I DID! I TOOK A BELT AND HURT MYSELF! OKAY?! VIRGIL CARES ABOUT ME!”

He tried to sound soothing “Remy please take a deep breathe-”

“NO! NO! YOU KNOW WHAT LOGAN?! THERE IS STILL CUM ON YOUR FUCKING LIPS FROM YOU SUCKING OFF SOME STRANGER IN A DIRTY BATHROOM! SO NO! I AM NOT TAKING LOVE ADVICE FROM SOMEONE WHO IS CHEATING ON HIS GODDAMN WIFE!”

They stormed away. For a moment Logan was frozen in place before he forced himself to run after them to try and make sure they would be okay.

“I am not-”

Remy looked at him for one last time. The look in their eyes made him feel cold. It was pure hatred.

“Logan get the fuck away from me! I am drunk and high and alone on a street with no one but you who is sure as hell fucking stronger than me and all you’re doing is spouting bullshit! So please get why I want you to leave. And why I don’t ever want you to talk to me again!”

He stopped dead in his tracks “...Right....Yes....I am so sorry”

Remy didn’t even respond. They simply turned and walked away. Logan stayed and watched to make sure they got home to the apartment safe before going back to his car.

He slumped down in the seat. His heart was racing and his thoughts were for once an illogical flurry. He sat motionless for several minutes before finally getting some semblence of an idea.

He took out his phone and dialed one of his usual numbers. It took several signals before Emile Picani picked up.

“Mhm? Logie bear? I can’t today I have clients in the morning” He yawned out.

“This is about one of your patients. I am fearing that they are in danger”

In an instant all of the sleepyness in Emile’s voice disappeared “In danger? Physical? Is it urgent? Do I need to call someone? Which patient are you even referring to?”

Logan hesitated. If Remy had reacted that strongly to him just attempting to ask about his boyfriend it was very likely that they would stop going to therapy if Emile brought it up. His throat tightened, he didn’t want to put them in any more danger.

“I....Nevermind Emile....This was just a far too gone joke...Someone dared me to call you. I am sorry. Have a good night”

He ended the call. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. His hands held onto the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.

Logan had no idea what to do. No idea at all. All he knew was fear. Fear for Remy’s safety. Fear for their well being. Fear that anything he did would only make their situation worse.

#mini fic #remus sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #sanders sides #remsleep #resleep #rem^2 #these sure keep getting longer huh #its past 4 am #fun

[starlightinhumanform]

Friday Night Lights: Chapter Two

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Sleepxiety 

Summary: Roman and Virgil play opposite positions on their rival high school football teams. It’s the Homecoming game and tensions are high. Neither are willing to lose but one must rise above the other...

Warnings: Descriptions of pain/injury, Moderate language, One mention of drinking (Please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff 

A/N: Well... nearly a year since the first chapter came out I’m finally writing again!!! I really love this AU (even though I know very little about football lmao) and I have a lot of ideas about how I would like to include more Sanders Sides characters into this world. If I can get some more of my unfinished fics done, I really want to expand this series. Until then, I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Chapter One   Ao3   Fic Masterpost   Fic Request Info

The first play passed by in a blink. Most of the guys at the front went down quickly, even the largest crumpling under Prince and his brigade. Somehow in the chaos, the ball had been passed to Remy instead of Virgil and the fullback was tackled to the ground.

Virgil rolled his eyes at Remy as the team fell back into formation, only a few feet forward from where they had begun, “Dude, why’d the fuck did it get passed to you? It’s not like a knucklehead like you would know what to do with it.”

Remy huffed a laugh in response, “I have no clue. I’ll make sure it gets to you this time… hopefully.”

He glanced over in the direction that Remy was grimacing. It was Prince, of course, lumbering toward his position with what seemed to Virgil to be nothing but brutish arrogance. Roman acted like the entire game was about him; he acted like it was West Shore Vs Roman instead of West Shore Vs Knights. He probably didn’t even care about the game— it was all about showing off.

Crouched in the back of the formation, it was hard to see anyone at the front but he could picture Roman, somehow managing to smirk behind his mouthguard. Virgil hoped that Remy would rub his face in the turf.

—————————————-

Roman prepared for the second down, glad to see that the jock in front of him wasn’t looking nearly as confident as he had at the first down. Knocking someone to the ground always seemed to do the trick.

The ball was hurled straight back to Tempeste and the bitch who had growled at him earlier didn’t even try to block Roman. Good. All that was left between him and the weird little halfback was Remy Ristretto.

Roman tried to steady himself before the expected slam, but Ristretto’s tackle hit him low in the stomach, managing to knock him off balance. From the ground, he could just barely see the purple form of Tempeste weaving down the field and avoiding every single one of the Monarch Knight’s defense.

Roman tried to throw off the weight of the boy on his back but found himself thoroughly pinned down. His mouth was filled with the taste of plastic turf and dusty rubber and almost the entirety of his vision was blocked by the grape juice flavoured uniform on top of him. It was humiliating. And Tempeste was still running, reaching the end zone without being touched by a single Knight. It was like his feet didn’t even touch the ground, flying across the field.

The West Shore team were given the chance to make a field goal, and made it, but Roman hardly noticed. He was too busy grumbling about how he was going to get back at Tempeste the second he got the chance.

—————————————-

By halftime, Virgil felt like he had been driven over by a steamroller. Multiple times. A steamroller covered in baseball bats.

As the marching band paraded past where Virgil was sitting, he wondered vaguely about the operability of a steamroller that had baseball bats attached to it. Maybe the hit he had taken to the head earlier in the game had been harder than he thought.

Remy sat down besides him, “What’s going on in that big old head of yours?”

“Uhhhhh, a lot of cartoon gong sound effects. Now that I think about it, that might just be the band.”

Virgil looked out across the field as the marching band made their final pass around the turf. The sky was completely dark by now but the stadium glowed bright as day under the huge lights. It was always wonderfully surreal to Virgil, the time of night when the field became its own little world still holding onto the glory of day. He hoped glory was still how he felt about this field by the end of the game. The alternative would be shame; the alternative would be defeat.

And defeat was not an option for a game right before homecoming. It’s not that Virgil particularly cared about the school dances, quite the opposite in fact, he hated them. They were crowded, noisy, and you had to wear uncomfortable clothes and stand around with a bunch of people you don’t like instead of being at home watching scary movies and eating pizza in your pajamas. But there’s only one thing worse than going to a school dance— going to the a school dance after losing the biggest game of the season.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Remy’s voice broke through Virgil’s thoughts, “Well stop it. We’re ahead of the Knights—“

“Barely.”

“—you’ve made some great runs so far—“

“I’ve gotten blocked plenty of times too.”

“—and you’re always at your best in the second half of the game. Now stop putting all your energy towards making the little hamster wheel in your brain turn faster and go use it on the field. C’mon man, the third quarter is about to start.”

Virgil shook his head as if to dislodge the distracting thoughts, letting his purple bangs fall in front of his face for a moment before brushing them back and putting his helmet on. Remy was right. Virgil had started football as a way to channel his anxiety, not to cause himself more. He just needed to get on that field and start running.

He jumped up and started bouncing on his feet, letting the adrenaline flow through his body until it felt like he was buzzing. Virgil was ready to win.

—————————————-

Roman was ready to win.

He could feel it boiling in stomach, the drive, the push to alway be the best. The teams had been neck-and-neck the entire game but West Shore’s grape-coloured menace had managed to scrape by with a slight lead by the end of the second quarter. Roman had no idea how Tempeste could even run that fast; he had short little legs and was about as delicate as a twig. Maybe West Shore just hooked him up to a car battery and gave him 20 energy drinks before every game.

However they made it happen, the kid could run. He didn’t look like he belonged on a football team, more like a trackstar or even a dancer. Roman knew he looked like a football player— tall, with broad shoulders and a thick waist, his extra weight part of what made him such a good defense. But Tempeste... he was like no player Roman had ever seen. Maybe that’s why Roman couldn’t beat him like any other player.

As the teams fell into formation, Roman looked across the row of helmets and accidentally made eye contact with Virgil. His stare burned with intensity. Roman hated to admit it, but he liked that about the rival school’s halfback, the feverish energy that seemed to storm around him. In fact, if Roman was being really honest, he loved playing against the West Shore because he loved playing against Tempeste. The energy was infectious. Playing against him made Roman want to run faster, hit harder, be better.

Roman smiled behind the mouthguard that rested on his bottom teeth. Maybe he did know how to beat Virgil; maybe he had to be just as crazy and vicious as his opponent.

—————————————-

Virgil knew what it felt like to get tackled. In his high school career he had gotten jumped on top and thrown to the ground by various sweaty, muscly dudes more times than he could ever dream of counting or would ever care to. He had been dragged to the ground, sat on, and pushed over from every angle and in every way.

But he had never, never felt a tackle like Roman’s in the beginning of the third quarter of that game.

He saw it coming, practically in slow motion, before Prince actually hit him. The boy’s shoulders were nearly twice as big as Virgil’s even with all his gear. He came charging towards Virgil head-down like a bull, his bright red helmet set with a direct trajectory to Virgil’s solar plexus.

Virgil tried to sidestep, skirting just past the moving wall of Roman Prince, but somehow Roman was moving simply too fast. The impact struck just at his core and a deep kind of pain, like a bruise that goes all the way to the bone, resonated outwards through his entire body. A vibration ran all the way to his fingertips.

Virgil could see the crowd going wild, booing and cheering and maybe just screaming with no inflection, making noise for the hell of it. He couldn’t hear any of it. Maybe the entire world had been put on mute or maybe the ringing in his ears was drowning it out.

He fell backwards and Roman flew over him, momentum carrying him forward. When he landed— and boy, did he land— he fell on directly onto Virgil’s chest. Virgil thought Roman had knocked the wind out of him by hitting him in the sternum. By landing flat on his chest with the entire bulk of his body, Roman found another ounce of breath left in Virgil’s body to shock out of him.

His vision and hearing tunneled out, focusing on the one thing capturing his entire attention: Roman. The boy on top of him was heavy, crushing Virgil through his thick shoulder pads. The heat of Prince’s body spread through his gear as well, although, based on the sweat damping his hairline, Virgil really wasn’t one to talk.

Roman was strong, stronger than him. Virgil tried to squirm away but he could feel Prince throwing his weight downwards and his arms straining to keep Virgil caged to the ground.

Just as intense as his physical strength, Prince’s eyes seemed to burn. Before, they always seemed to be depthless, simply dark and brutish like a bear. Now, breathlessly close, there seemed to be a light behind them, a thousand times brighter than the stadium lights. Gold tones shining through the dark brown of his eyes. It was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen. It was also easily one of the most terrifying things he’d ever seen.

Virgil kept the ball close to his chest. As long as he could keep it, the West Shore team would still have possession and could continue to move forward across the field. They could still win.

—————————————-

Roman had Tempeste pinned to the ground and somehow it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever done. Which isn’t to say he had never tackled the halfback before— they had been playing against each other for several years now— but this was different somehow, more personal.

Tempeste growled beneath him, wriggling to escape the tackle like water slipping between his fingers. Roman push down harder, refusing to let him go.

Footsteps pounded behind them, turf crunching under the stampede of Knights quickly charging forward. Roman braced himself for the pile-up he knew was coming, over a thousand pounds worth of his team jumping to join the tackle.

One guy slammed into Roman’s back then another, then another. The pressure of the game must have been getting to them as well because they threw themselves at Roman and Tempeste like a pack of wild animals.

It felt like every single Knight, including the offense players, were joining the tackle. And feel was the correct term. He could hardly see anything besides Tempeste’s face within his purple helmet. But he could feel everything, every hit of his teammates as their full weight fell against his back. Beneath him, Tempeste’s breath began quickening, like he was sprinting again. But of course he wasn’t, he was pinned down just like Roman was.

Roman glanced down into the depths of Virgil’s helmet, searching past the grill. Shining in the dark, his eyes caught a small reflection of the stadium lights. They were large, startled, and obviously panicked. He looked like a trapped animal and his breathing only continued to become more rapid.

Their eyes met as Roman looked down and he realized this was the first time he had ever seen Virgil look really, truly afraid. He had seen Tempeste in the fourth quarter, 20 points behind and looking as determined and fierce as ever. He had seen Tempeste sprint across the field, followed by the entire Monarchs team, with a huge grin on his face like there was nothing he would rather do than be hunted after. He had seen Tempeste stand toe-toe-to, small chest puffed out and jaw set confidently, with some guy over a foot taller than him because he tried to mouth off about Virgil’s ability. He had never seen him like this.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” Roman set his helmet grill against Virgil’s. He knew Virgil couldn’t hear him and probably didn’t even know why he was putting his face so close. Hell, Roman didn’t even know why he was doing it. There was something about Virgil’s genuine fear that he felt the need to comfort him, tell him that it was just a game, that he would be alright.

The weight of another player hit him and Roman was slammed against Virgil’s chest. The sudden shift forced Roman onto his wrist, the small joint carrying him and the entirety of his team. Something cracked. He gasped sharply as pain struck every molecule in his body. Roman’s vision went black.

—————————————-

Virgil sat in the locker room, staring vaguely across at the rows of blue shelves in front of him as he held a pack of ice against his shoulder. The nurse said that it might have been dislocated in the pileup.

He wished he could blame it on Roman, that oaf was the one who had tackled him to begin with. He couldn’t though. It was Roman’s job to tackle him and that’s exactly what Roman had done and as much as it confused and somewhat infuriated Virgil, he also knew the other boy had protected him from the blunt force of his teammates. Why? Why would he do that?

Dull pain throbbed through the entirety of his body, clouding his mind. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had happened.

Virgil was pretty sure Roman got hurt too. As he had walked off the field, gritting his teeth, he caught a glimpse of Prince cradling his hand as he walked in the opposite direction.

It was one hell of a pileup; four years of football and he had only been in a tangle that bad the first time he had played against the Monarchs. Maybe he and Roman were just destined to create disasters.

Virgil grimaced as his mind kept wandering back to Roman. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but worry if Prince was alright. Virgil had no idea what was going on in his mind, or on the field, or in the locker room on the other side.

—————————————-

Roman was bored. He sat on the bleachers, watching the game drag on ahead of him as he held a pack of ice to his wrist. The nurse had told him it was probably just strained but Roman wasn’t convinced. He could feel the ache throbbing up his arm with every beat of his heart. Between the pain and the pressure spreading out from grinding his teeth, Roman’s head was trapped in a haze that he could barely see through.

From what he could tell, the Monarch Knights were winning. With Virgil out, Westshore’s offense had been greatly weakened. Roman hardly cared; he wasn’t out there, Virgil wasn’t out there, none of the spark was left in the game. What was the point of winning if there was no one to win against?

The crowd roared as the final quarter came to a close. The Knights won, but Roman didn’t. He felt disappointed, dejected, and like he didn’t quite understand where he was. This wasn’t his game.

The night came to an end and Roman opted to go straight to the locker room instead of shaking hands with the other team, blaming it on his wrist.  Usually, he loved facing the other team after a win— admittedly because it gave him a chance to gloat over them— but he just couldn’t find that same feeling tonight.

—————————————-

Virgil leaned against a cold concrete wall of the bleachers, staring up at the stadium light’s false sun above him. If he looked far enough, he could find the dark sky and the twinkling lights of the city below him and beyond the intense glow of the school.

A cool breeze was picking up as the world shifted into night. It was beautiful but Virgil couldn’t appreciate it. He just wished there had been some sort of ending, a closure of some kind. He and Prince’s last hurrah against each other. But they hadn’t gotten a hurrah, all they got was a game that petered out and came to sputtering stop as they both sat on the sidelines. Virgil didn’t even care that West Shore lost; it was never about West Shore and the Monarchs. It was about him and Roman.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, “You mind if I join your sulking or would you rather be left alone to mope?”

Virgil spun around, his body tensing at Roman’s voice and sending a twinge of pain down from his shoulder, “What do you want?”

Roman stepped closer, “I told you, I came to sulk with you because that’s obviously what we’re both doing.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right well... fuck off.”

“Man, I thought you might bite before but now I’m sure of it.”

Prince took another casual step forward as Virgil’s mind began racing. What is he doing? Virgil’s eyes swept over Roman. He had never really seen him out of his football uniform and damn. In denim jeans and a red tee shirt, Virgil was actually able to see him for the first time. Most guys were greatly exaggerated by the uniform, making them look bigger and stronger, but nope, Roman was really just built like that. His gaze reached Prince’s face. Like the rest of his body, his features looked like they had been sculpted and chiseled like some type of statue. He was reminded of how beautiful Roman’s eyes were when he actually took the time to look at them, the warm shades of brown filtering through each other.

“Uh, what are you looking at?” Roman laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the edge of his voice.

Virgil felt blood rushing to his face as a deep blush rose to his cheeks. He had been staring, hadn’t he? “Sorry.”

Roman stepped even closer, clearing his throat again, “I actually came over here because... I wanted just wanted to tell you I’ve really enjoyed playing against you. And it can’t just be summed up by saying ‘good game;’ it’s been a hell of a good four years... you’re a phenomenal player.”

Virgil stared down at his feet. This was not what he had been expecting, not that he had been expecting any of this, “You know... it hasn’t been easy to be the smallest person on the team— shit, I’m the smallest player in any of the district teams. I don’t think I would have kept playing, or would have tried as hard to stay on the team if I wasn’t absolutely set on kicking your ass.”

Roman laughed— a deep, genuine sound flooding from somewhere in his broad chest— and Virgil couldn’t help but grin.

“So yeah... thanks for that. And good game,” Virgil smiled up at the other boy.

“Well, we can’t exactly shake hands like usual,” Roman glanced down at his swollen wrist and Virgil’s shoulder that he was still nursing.

“Can we do something else then?” Virgil moved so he was standing face to face with Roman, his heart pounding in his ears.

Virgil could feel Roman’s breathing quicken as he reached up with his good arm, sliding his hand to the base of Roman’s neck. Put he didn’t startle, he didn’t try to move away. If anything, he seemed to be leaning into the touch.

Virgil moved forward, standing on the tips of his toes to press his lips against Roman’s. For a horrific second, he thought Roman wouldn’t return it but after a moment of apparent shock, Roman bowed his head to deepen the kiss. He tipped them forward, supporting the entirety of Virgil’s weight with his uninjured hand.

When they finally broke away, Virgil was completely breathless. He definitely hadn’t seen that coming at the beginning of the evening.

Roman looked equally surprised but he began grinning like an idiot as the realization of what had just happened settled over him, “Can we do that again??”

Virgil laughed at Roman’s eager, puppy-dog-eyes expression, “At least buy me a drink first.”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that seeing as we’re both like 17–“

“Excuse you, I’m 18,” Virgil stuck his tongue out in mock indignation.

“Yeah, well, uh, would you maybe want to go to homecoming with me?” Roman began rushing his words out, “I mean, I totally get if not. There’s absolutely no pressure. And I’m sure you already have plans so—“

“That’d be cool,” Virgil broke in, “I’d really, really like that.”

Roman’s face once again broke into a beaming smile, “Really??”

“Yeah you big idiot, that’s why I said it. Besides, it’s awful going to a dance after losing a game so I might as well bring a trophy,” Virgil slipped his hand into Roman’s and began leading them out of the stadium and into the parking lot. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened tonight. He had started the evening determined to win, but even though West Shore lost, he didn’t feel disappointed.

Virgil looked at the silhouette of Roman against the fading campus lights as he walked alongside him. Maybe he had won something even more important than the game.

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#roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #roman x virgil #prinxiety high school au #sander sides #sanders side fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides high school au #prinxiexty fluff #starlight writes #Friday Night Lights #did I say I was going to post this on thursday and then decided to push it until friday but then i went on a date #and absolutely did not get this posted so now I’m posting it on saturday #maybe

[selene-tempest]

It’s my birthday and apparently the hubby isn’t going to let me ignore it...

((Author lady is putting this up now to celebrate, but it won’t be uploaded to Ao3 yet because it doesn’t fit the timeline at the moment, so you’ll have to wait.))

“What do you mean she’s not coming home?” Scott asked.

“She’s not coming home,” John replied with a shrug. What else was there to say? How else could he make that simple sentence any clearer?

"Like never again?" Alan whimpered. 

John didn't dignify that with an answer. 

“But why?” Gordon asked.

“Because she doesn’t want to.”

“Did you try to talk her round?” Scott asked.

“Of course I did, but she’s being stubborn, and you know what she's like when she sets her mind to something.”

“Why? Did we do something wrong? Does she not love us any more?” Alan asked, looking like he was about to cry.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course she still loves you. Do you honestly think that after four years in this family and all the things we’ve been through, this would be the time she decided she wanted out?” John couldn’t believe how dramatic they were all being about it.

“But it’s her birthday, she should be here with us,” Scott said firmly, like that was all there was to it. 

“Yes, her birthday, and she does have a choice in the matter,” John reminded him.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“You can tell her then,” John said. “Because I’m certainly not going to get involved with that.”

“Did she at least say why?” Virgil asked, ever the sane one.

“Yes, she said that she isn’t having a birthday this year, she’s ignoring it because someone,” John paused to glare meaningfully at Scott, “keeps teasing her about getting old because she’s hitting the big Three-O.”

Scott sniggered quietly to himself.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of it if I were you,” John warned him,

“I didn’t even say anything that bad to her,” Scott protested weakly.

“No, but you asked me what it was like being married to a cougar that only wanted me for my youthful body.”

Scott sniggered again, turning it into a cough when John’s glare rached up a notch.

“And yesterday you got up off the couch and asked her if she wanted to sit down,” Virgil added.

“I was being considerate!”

“If that was the case you shouldn’t have said that you were doing it because it’s only polite to give your seat up for the elderly,” Gordon laughed.

“Oh for the…” John dropped his head into his hands in utter despair. Scott was just lucky that he was only there in hologram form or he’d have punched him. 

Scott just shrugged. “She needs to come home, it’s her birthday.”

“Well she’s not going to,” John told him, wondering if he should whip out the hand puppets to get him to understand the simple answer of no.

“Go and get her, she’ll do it if you tell her to,” Alan tried.

“Let me think about it...no.”

“Aw, come on, John, please?” Alan was going to pout, John just knew it.

“I’ll try,” John sighed, knowing he was beaten.

-x-

“Come on, love, get out of bed.”

“No,” Selene said, her voice muffled since her head was currently stuffed under a pillow.

“Everyone wants to see you,” John wheedled.

“I don’t care, I’m not moving.”

“You have to celebrate your birthday.”

“Lies! I say the same thing to you every year and every year you tell me you don’t want a fuss. No party, no going anywhere, no nothing. Why can’t I do the same?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you. You’re the sociable part of our couple, you’re the one that forces me to go places I don’t want to by insisting that I'll have a good time when I get there.”

“And you still argue, complain and refuse to go. Maybe I’ve finally started to listen to you and realised you were right all along, birthdays are bad, social is bad, celebrating anything is bad. I get it, you were right.”

“Don’t even try that,” John warned her.

“Try what?” she mumbled innocently.

“Telling me that I’m right so I’ll be so shocked I won’t argue with you any more.”

“It was worth a shot,” she grumbled to herself.

“Enough of this,” John declared, grabbing the edge of the duvet and yanking it off the bed, revealing his darling wife lying flat out on her belly like a dead starfish. “Come on, get up.”

“No! I’m not getting up. If you really loved me and wanted me to celebrate you’d go and get a Chinese and eat it in bed with me.”

John paused for a second, because honestly that did sound very tempting… no, he had a duty as a husband, a duty to give his wife a birthday she wouldn’t forget for such a milestone. 

“No, we’re doing something for your birthday and that’s final. You asked me to trust you for my birthday last year-”

“And you didn’t! You bitched and tried to seduce me into staying on Five and ignoring the trouble I and everyone else had gone to.”

“Never happened,” he lied smoothly. “You have two choices, get up and come with me or I’ll call your mother and let her drag you out of this pit.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed. 

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

“No, because then you’d have to talk to her and you know how that would go,” Selene left the threat hanging in the air.

John paused, his brain frantically scurrying to come up with something like a hamster spinning on its wheel. What could he do that would be special for her birthday? He’d used up his one good idea planning a night away for the four year anniversary of the night they met… huh..maybe he could… 

He pulled his phone out and sent a quick message to EOS asking her to get to work rearranging the surprise. Selene's birthday was close enough to their anniversary, shifting the two bookings he had made shouldn't be too much trouble.

“Fine, then you have two more choices, get up and pack yourself an overnight bag and be waiting patiently for me to get back so we can go, or I’ll pack for you and throw you over my shoulder and drag you out. Choose wisely.”

“I choose door number three.”

“Stop being dramatic, plus you know that’s not an option. You can see your family tomorrow, for today you’re mine. I would strongly advise you pick the first option as you know my idea of suitable clothes to pack differs wildly from yours, you know I can’t be trusted…”

“Not convinced.”

Huffing he grabbed hold of her legs and yanked her backwards down the bed. She shrieked like a fire alarm. He ignored it. Flipping her over he tugged on her arms, pulling her into a sitting position.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he lied, taking in the messy hair, mascara smudged around her eyes and the fact she was wearing the hideous nightshirt that he loathed with the fire of a thousand suns. 

She snorted, clearly not falling for his line.

He knelt down beside the bed, taking her hands in his.

“Do you trust me?”

“Most of the time.”

“Then trust me now, do as you’re told and stop being obstinate for the sake of it. Think about it, you and me, a whole night away…”

“And no mention of my birthday?” she clarified.

“Not if you don’t want it,” he promised. “I had something arranged for our anniversary but I think you need it a little earlier.”

She still looked suspicious but she reluctantly nodded her agreement. “Alright, I’ll trust you.”

“Good. I’m going to head back to the island to pick up Dad’s plane-”

“Plane? Just where are we going, exactly?”

“That’s on a need to know basis and right now you don’t need to know,” he told her. “Just concentrate on getting yourself ready, have a shower if you want to, dress in something you feel amazing in and be ready in two hours.”

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?”

“Nope, now move your backside,” he ordered, giving her butt a little swipe.

-x-

John had walked straight out of their flat after giving her her orders, leaving her to it. She procrastinated for half an hour, feeling that he would have totally won and she would have lost if she got up and did as she was told straight away. She needed to keep some form of dignity and control over her own dramatic leanings. 

She then slowly packed a few essentials, throwing in a nice maxi skirt, some leggings she could wear under it if they were going anywhere cold, a peasants blouse along with underbust corset she could add to jazz it up in case they went anywhere fancy, a thick shawl for chilly weather, a T-shirt to wear in bed, fresh underwear, makeup bag, toiletries and she was done.

She did take a shower, not because he suggested it but because she felt a bit grotty and knew it would make her feel better. She resisted the urge to stare at herself in the mirror and scrutinise her naked body until she wanted nothing more than to hide back in bed again, and got on with the laborious task of hair washing, leg shaving and getting dressed.

She was just about ready in jeans, T-shirt and a hoodie she’d stolen from Alan, comfy travelling clothes, when he texted to demand her presence downstairs. 

He had an automated taxi waiting that took them straight out of town to the nearby private airfield that Scott used whenever he was taking a break and leaving One at the island in case of emergencies, although this wasn’t a surprise since he had said he was going to get Jeff’s jet. 

The flight time had been relatively short in relation to standard commercial flights, only an hour and a half, but when you were used to being in a family that could zip across the globe in half an hour it was quite long. This comparison did absolutely nothing to tell her where they were at any given moment or where they were going to end up, so she stuck with sitting quietly, letting him get on with the whole flying thing.

“Are you still grumpy at me for making you leave the house?” John asked after half an hour of mostly silence from Selene.

“No,” she sighed, “I just really didn’t feel like doing anything, I’m not sure I’m going to be the best company at the moment.”

“Did I ask for you to be good company? It’s not like I’m a shining example of how to be the life and soul of a party.”

“I know, sorry, I just kinda wanted to forget about it. Everyone wants to make a big deal about my birthday and I don’t. Mum wanted to drag me around to visit people, to which I firmly said no, so she’s not really talking to me at the moment. She did that a lot when I was a kid, kept having parties and events that were loosely based on one of our birthdays, but she’d invite a lot of her friends and family members we didn’t really like. She’d have a great time but we didn’t because it just wasn’t what we wanted to do."

“I can understand that, Grandma was much the same.”

“Plus it’s the first big thing, apart from our wedding, without Dad and I’m just not really in the mood to celebrate, I’d rather just have a quiet night in and get a pizza or something.”

So that was what was really bothering her. Not so much the fact that she was getting older, though he was sure that wasn’t helping, but the fact that her Dad wasn’t going to be there. He could understand her point. Scott had turned thirty while their father had still been missing, presumed dead and it hadn’t been the celebration it should have been. Birthdays without their Mom had been much the same, celebrating milestones without important people was always hard. Maybe they were a little guilty of forgetting what that felt like, since their Father had been recovered after so many years. They were used to him being there again and didn’t let themselves dwell on the past if they could help it. 

“I promise you that we don’t even have to think about your birthday,” John assured her. “This is just us, having a night away from the madness that is our lives and tomorrow I’ll send Virgil to pick up Celia and Adam, she loves him so she'll behave, to bring them back to the Island for the night so we can have a quiet family dinner. Will that work for you?”

She thought about it for a moment or two, but could see no other way of getting around it.

“Yep, that’ll do.” 

"Good," he smiled, turning away tk check on the course settings. 

Watching him fly the plane, knowing he had put in a lot of effort already made her feel  like a complete bitch.

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you going to all this effort to arrange something, I didn’t mean to be a grumpy cow.”

“I’ll let you off this once, because it’s your birthday,” he teased, earning himself a half hearted glare that turned into a giggle as she finally let go of the tension she had been holding onto.

“I’m gonna smack you, you know that, right?” she warned him.

“Not while I’m flying, and maybe wait until after dinner, I’ll be slower then and easier for you to catch.”

“Noted,” she nodded, reaching over to drop her hand on his knee.

“I hope you’re not planning on distracting me,” he said mildly, acting as if nothing was happening, his eyes on the sky. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not, or is that another thing best left until after dinner when you’re too full to run away?”

“I could handle a little distraction now, but if you want me to be able to reciprocate with a little distraction technique of my own, you’re going to have to wait.”

“I’ll wait,” she decided, but that didn’t stop her leaning closer to smack a kiss to his neck. “Have I told you today that I love you, husband?”

“No, you were too busy ignoring me, wife. My heart is shattered by the way.”

“Oh, yes, you seem so very heart broken.”

“I’m hiding it well.”

“Sure you are,” she drawled, trying very hard not to laugh. “I do love you though.”

“As you should.”

His tone was so serious that she lost the battle to hold herself together and started to laugh. John smiled to himself, relieved to see that she had perked up. Hopefully she would have loosened up enough to enjoy the activities he’d planned for them both that evening as they were certainly more her thing than his.

John landed the JT1 on what appeared to be a small runway with a barn, in a field, in the middle of nowhere. He had refused to let her see where they were travelling to, insisting she pull down the window blind next to her as they got closer and close her eyes for the last three minutes of their descent and landing.

A local woman was there to meet them, her accent saying she was american, southern by the sound of it, although Selene wasn’t too good at identifying accents. After the woman had opened the barn doors and John had taxied the small jet into it, she introduced herself as Cherise. Hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged before she led them to the small truck that she had parked nearby. A five minute drive and…

“Is that a river boat?” Selene asked, unable to figure out just what the heck was going on.

“Yep, now get on,” John instructed, guiding her onto the walkway with one hand while grabbing their bags with the other. They waved a goodbye to Cherise who assured John she’d be ready and waiting the next day and to just text when she was needed, and went in search of seats.

The boat was more of a ferry, containing around 150 seats, only half of which were filled.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" 

"No, I don't think I will."

"You would if you loved me."

"Its because I love you that I'm not telling you," he replied cryptically, getting up from his seat and moving to the front where an attendant sat. 

“What river is this?” Selene sneakily asked a nearby passenger as John paid their fare, a measly sum of five dollars each.

“Please don’t answer her,” John called over, obviously overhearing.

The man chuckled, having been shamelessly listening in and finding the situation most amusing. “Are you being kidnapped?” 

“I don’t know, you'd better ask my husband,” she pouted. 

“It’s her birthday and it’s a surprise,” John explained as he returned to his seat next to her. “She’s being impatient and sneaky.”

“You’ll only have to wait five minutes,” the man told her, patting her shoulder. “Surely that’s not too bad?”

“You’d think so,” Selene huffed, crossing her arms as the boat slid out of the dock and out into the open water.

Just as their fellow passenger had promised, just a shade under five minutes later the boat cruised into another dock and they were ushered off.

“Now will you tell me where we are?”

“Nope, not quite yet,” John grinned, enjoying this game immensely. Tucking her hand into his they followed the stream of passengers out of the dockyard and onto the streets beyond.

It wasn’t until she saw the streetcar waiting for the offloading passengers that she figured it out. 

“Oh my gods, you didn’t?” she gasped, the pieces of the jigsaw finally sliding into place. The river, which surely had to be the Mississippi, the streetcars and the friendliness of the locals, there was only one place they could be. The city of New Orleans was famous for being one of the only places in the world to still have a working historical streetcar line, something she had heard all about from her friends who had been lucky enough to visit. It was one of the places on her bucket list, her spiritual home for her laidback, chilled out self.

“I did,” he smirked, feeling incredibly pleased with himself at that moment, knowing that his hunch had been correct.

"You are amazing!" she screamed, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“Finally you realise it,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her waist for stability as she bounced enthusiastically on the spot, almost knocking him over. “Shall I assume you approve?”

“Hell yes I approve!” she squealed, smacking a kiss to his lips.

“Good, because we’ve got a full evening booked up.”

“And time factored in for a wander?”

“Translation, time to look at some shops?”

“Obviously.”

“Maybe we can find a little time tomorrow morning,” he allowed. She smiled happily, knowing that was a yes. 

She squeezed up as close to the window as possible on the streetcar, wanting to see everything, squeaking and pointing like an excited child whenever she saw something she recognised.

When he had been thinking of somewhere to take her for an overnight stay he'd happened to overhear a phone conversation between Selene and another friend. They had been discussing a mutual friend and their shop in New Orleans and had spent ten minutes talking about the area with Selene saying how much she wanted to go, how it was on her list of places to visit before she died. The answer, it seemed, had quite conveniently fallen into his lap. 

It had been simple enough to organise, just a hotel booking, pick up from the landing area in St Bernard Parish and tickets for the tour he’d found. He’d planned on surprising her for their anniversary, knowing that it would never be something she would think to plan herself. She knew their busy lives, knew that time off was a rarity that could never be counted on, plans often had to be ditched at the last minute and so she never made them, not wanting him to feel bad if her efforts went to waste because IR were called out and he had to return to Five. 

He had thought she would want to do something with family and friends for her birthday so had booked for the week after, but once again she had surprised him with her insistence that she wasn’t going to celebrate. So he’d had to make some quick decisions, adapt, improvise, overcome.

He kept his eye on his phone, watching the little dot moving on the screen that was them and their streetcar, waiting for the right stop to disembark. Seeing the stop for Toulouse Station coming up he grabbed their bags and waited for her to notice. When she didn't, so engrossed was she in the streets going past, he had to catch her hand and tug her out of her seat. 

“Come on, we’re walking from here,” he instructed, pushing the bell to indicate to the driver, nothing was automated in New Orleans if they could help it, that they wanted to get off.

The stop wasn’t terribly close to the hotel he’d booked, but he’d thought it would be nice to walk, allowing her to see the sights a little and familiarise themselves with the layout of the area.

They walked hand in hand through Jackson Square and out onto St Ann street. St Ann’s was a pleasant walk past a number of shops, bars and restaurants, the end of which intersected onto Bourbon Street. Selene insisted on dipping into a gift shop and grabbing a few items for the family, just in case they didn’t get a chance to later. It took all his skills in sneaky manipulation, and promises of later distractions, to get her moving again, following the street until they reached their hotel. The whole walk took them less than half an hour but they were already feeling a little damp and sweaty.

The Lafitte Guest House was on the quieter end of Bourbon, something he knew both of them would appreciate. Selene liked her sleep and hated being woken suddenly and, although she suffered it well on the island, he knew for a fact that she would not appreciate it while they were away. He’d debated the wisdom of knowingly booking into a haunted hotel but experience had told him that his wife would find a spirit no matter where they were and at least this way they would be forewarned.

“This place is so nice,” she had cooed, running a hand along the ornate wooden handrail on the staircase. 

“It’s a little smaller than some of the fancier hotels, but I thought you’d prefer the atmosphere here.”

“I do, it’s the perfect choice,” Selene agreed as they were shown to their room. And it was, a three storey building that fitted in perfectly with its surroundings, the classic New Orleans French inspired architecture.

“This building was constructed in 1849,” their concierge told them, “by the same man who designed our opera house, Robert Seaton."

He turned down a hallway, beckoning them to follow along. 

"I’m afraid, although your original booking was for our most haunted room, room 21, it is already occupied, I do hope that won’t be a problem?”

“Not at all,” John assured him. “Any room you have will be fine, we’re just thankful you could accommodate us at such short notice.”

“No problem at all,” the man said, leading them up a flight of stairs and along a corridor. He opened the room with a flourish, stepping aside to allow them to enter.

The room itself, much like the rest of the hotel, was like stepping back in time, containing period furniture, a lovely large four poster bed and large french door windows that opened out onto a small wrought iron balcony overlooking Bourbon street. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Selene sighed, flopping backwards onto the bed with a woop of delight.

“Happy wife, happy life,” John quoted, much to the man’s amusement. 

“Will you be requiring anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you, we’re just going to freshen up and then head out to dinner," he said, dropping Selene's bag in a nearby chair." Actually, is there anywhere you can recommend?”

“Many places, but I’d say the best idea is to follow your nose and your stomach, although I would encourage you to try something authentic, the gumbo at SoBou is my favourite.”

“Then we’ll be sure to try there,” John promised. “Sel, are you done messing up the bed?”

“Nope,” she answered, continuing to roll around like a happy puppy, burying her face in the pillow.

“I’ll leave you in peace,” the man laughed, backing out of the room after John shook his hand, discreetly pressing a twenty into the man’s palm.

“I’m going to freshen up with a shower,” John told her. “Try not to fall asleep.”

“I could come with you,” she offered, perking up at the idea, sitting up on the bed expectantly.

“No, I’m far too hungry for that, besides which we have somewhere to be tonight, so your continued attempts to distract me will have to wait,” he told her, grabbing his bag and firmly shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“Unfair,” she pouted, flopping back down again. “It is my birthday you know!”

-x-

“I literally can’t eat another bite,” Selene complained, pushing her bowl aside with half the, admittedly delicious, Jambalaya still in it.

“That’s because you ate four bits of bread before they brought the food out,” John told her, finishing the last bite of his gumbo and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I regret nothing,” she insisted, reaching over to swipe the crust of a piece of bread off his side plate, wiping it through the sauce left in his bowl.

“I thought you were too full to eat another bite?” he asked as she popped it in her mouth, chewing hard before swallowing to answer him.

“Of my own food, obviously, yours is fair game,” she sipped her coke and smiled sweetly.

“Of course, how stupid of me not to realise that.”

“It really was,” she agreed, holding in a giggle at the martyred look on his face.

“Dessert?” he eventually asked once she stopped sniggering like an idiot. 

“Obviously, do you want to share one?” 

“Sure,” John shrugged, at ease with pretty much anything at that moment. He had worried that he might find the whole area overwhelming as it had a reputation as a nonstop party town. He’d been dreading crowds of people getting too close for comfort, being too loud, too boisterous and invasive. But he’d found that, while it was loud it wasn’t unbearable, seeming to consist of a lot of music, laughter and the occasional shout. 

Although it was crowded, they weren’t shoving and barging, they were respectful of personal space and friendly enough without being over friendly.  It was a pleasant surprise, one that was reflecting in his current mood. Selene, for her part, was so chilled out she was practically horizontal, four witch types had already waved hello and greeted her like a long lost friend even though she didn’t know them at all and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the experience, her grumpy mood of earlier completely forgotten. 

“What do you fancy?” Selene asked, currently studying the dessert menu on the board.

“Besides my gorgeous wife?”

“Yeah, besides her, wives are not for eating,” Selene snorted.

“I beg to differ.”

Selene tore her eyes away from the menu to look at him. He lifted his bottle of beer and took an innocent sip, his eyes projecting trustworthiness. She wasn't fooled. 

“Something chocolatey?” she offered, trying to distract herself away from the thought of his mouth on something other than the neck of the bottle.

He thought about it for a second or two then shook his head. “Maybe something with fruit?”

“ Or possibly Ice Cream?”

“Maybe,” he studied the menu himself. “Bananas Foster?”

“Perfect,” she nodded.

They finished up the last of their meal at a leisurely pace, chatting in between sharing bites of the delicious dessert. Bananas Foster was a favourite of Gordon’s and she snapped a picture to send to him later, wanting to make him jealous.

John paid the bill, leaving a generous tip and reached for her hand, guiding her outside. He took out his phone, checking the time and location for their next activity. Keeping hold of her hand, using it to pull her in closer to his side, he led the way further down Bourbon and onto St Peter’s where the tour guide would hopefully be waiting.

"Hello!" one of their guides greeted them as they closed in on the group of maybe twenty people already waiting there. "Tracy, party of two?" 

"That's us," John confirmed and Selene nodded too. She had no reason to, she just wanted to look like she had some kind of clue as to why they were there and what was going on. 

"Good, then you're the last ones, let's get started. I'm Delphine, this is Remi, and we'll be your guides on this, the world famous New Orleans Ghost Tour." 

Selene squeezed his hand excitedly and he allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding. It was always a bit of a gamble with her when it came to planning anything like this. In most things she was incredibly laid back, but when it was anything that involved the potential for witchcraft, mediumship or ghosts then you were swimming in muddy water. It depended on how respectful the people involved were. He had done his research as best he could, seeing that the tour had been running for more than 80 years in some form or another and that they didn't employ the use of jump scares, people in costumes or sensationalise it in any way. He just hoped it was all it promised to be. 

"This is a two hour walking tour, ending with a visit to the beautiful and very haunted St Louis Cemetery No 1," Delphine informed them all. "But we're going to start right here in the heart of the French quarter where murder, mystery and voodoo magic helped shape our history."

The other attendees ooed and ahhed, already impressed by the mere thought of ghosts and ghoulies. 

Selene was busily looking around them curiously as they wandered slowly down the street, Delphine and Remi giving them a run down on the architecture, the history, the customs and the people that make up New Orleans. But he could feel that she was already on alert, the hand that held on tightly to his arm seeming to warm against his skin, letting him know that her gifts had already awoken, sitting up to take notice. 

As they walked they were told a little about the Le Petite Theatre and the young chorus girl who, falling out of favour with the producer, hung herself above the stage during the opening night's performance. Legend had it that every opening night her shadowy form could be seen hanging against the backdrop of the stage.

The first place they stopped at properly to take pictures and listen to the full history was the Andrew Jackson hotel, somewhere John had looked at as a possible place to stay but had decided against it when he had realised it was on the tour.

“The Andrew Jackson, once a boarding house for boys, fell victim to two major fires at the end of the 1700’s,” Delphine told them. Her voice was pleasant to listen to, loud enough that they didn’t have to strain their ears but soft and lilting in that southern way that put you at ease instantly. 

“One of those fires burnt the school to the ground, killing a number of young residents. The spirits of the boys are often seen and heard in the hotel, being described as mischievous spirits who like to play outside people’s rooms at night. One guest reported waking up in the middle of the night to see three small boys sitting on the end of her bed. Of course, she screamed, which the boys copied, screaming back at her in terror before vanishing.”

“Can you sense anything?” John whispered to Selene, making sure to keep his voice low, not wishing to interrupt Delphine or distract the other people listening. 

Selene waggled her hand back and forth in a ‘meh’ gesture, indicating it could be something or nothing. 

“I can feel energy from there, but nothing is coming forward to say hello,” she whispered back. “If we were inside I’m sure I’d get something more but out here, not being funny but the spirits are probably so used to tourists coming through that we’re boring to them now. That and, where I’m usually one of the only mediumistic people to come in to talk to spirits, there are tons here, you can trip over a witch by accident. So they are probably just keeping themselves to themselves.”

“Fair enough,” John chuckled, he always loved the way she explained things, a mixture of simplistic and colourful language with a hint of ‘I’m the expert’ that he so admired.

They continued walking, Remi pointing out interesting landmarks and telling the odd story of a murder or some other tragedy that had occured until they reached their next proper stop.

“Here we are at the historic, and very popular, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar, the oldest in the city. History is mixed on whether this building was owned by the famed Lafitte brothers, Jean, or John, and Pierre or just named after them. Some accounts say that they ran the blacksmith shop as a front, others say that they cannot find any actual evidence of their involvement. All we know for sure is that they were nasty pieces of work.” Remi swept a hand out, gesturing towards the bar that was already hopping even though it was still relatively early.

“Jean and Pierre, the Pirate Captains, were instrumental in helping to win the battle of New Orleans during the war of 1812 against the British,“ Delphine continued to explain, glancing at Selene and winking at the mention of the British. “Jean was given a pardon for all his misdeeds as reward for their help, but in exchange he was ordered to leave the state of Louisiana.”

“Bit mean,” Selene whispered to John, who nodded in agreement, imagining how it would feel to help save a city only to be thrown out of it. 

“It’s said that they left great treasures around the French Quarter and in the Mississippi itself which have never been found. The only other person that knew of their whereabouts was a fellow pirate that Jean made the mistake of trusting. Unfortunately, as is often the way with pirates, he was untrustworthy, returning again and again to the cache's to skim a little off the top, so to speak. When Jean found out he did a little skimming of his own, he killed the pirate and it’s said that his spirit is cursed to guard the treasure forever more.”

“That’s a bit of a rough deal,” Selene muttered. “All eternity guarding something he can’t have? That’s like Virgil dying and hovering over the coffee pot.”

John snorted out a laugh, picturing his brother in ghost form, wailing as Scott took the coffee pot, poured himself a cup and drank it in front of him. 

As they wandered on, John and Selene were asked for a few selfies by tourists not in their group and they had to hurry to catch up a few times, finding it impossible to be rude and refuse even though John would have much rather done so.

They were told of the Pharmacy Museum. The building had the dubious honour of being the first licensed pharmacy in the United States but the treatments offered often did more harm than good, verging on barbaric. From drilling holes in skulls to relieve the pressure as a cure for headaches, to chemical concoctions that would have you put in prison were you to use them today. 

The second doctor to practice there was known to kidnap pregnant women and perform horrific experiments on them and it was his grizzly spirit that was said to shunt the building still.

They stopped outside a large, three storey building, getting comfortable as their guide started her story.

“The Palace, the Sultan’s house and the murder house,” Remi called out over the increasing noise of the streets and the chatting of the tour attendees. “All names for this building. Originally the second home of a wealthy businessman, he was hardly ever in residence and often rented it out in exchange for some extra cash that he probably didn’t need. Legends differ, one saying that the mysterious young man, a tall, dark and handsome stranger, was the brother of a sultan, hence the name, while others talk of him being some kind of demon or devil.”

“Demon’s aren’t real are they?” John asked Selene in a side whisper. She didn’t answer but her scrunched up nose and avoidance of his eyes told him all he needed to know. 

“Do you know any?”

She nodded vaguely, clearly not comfortable talking about such things out in the open as they were so he took the hint and shut up, tuning back into the talk.

“The man was very exotic,” Delphine was saying. “He had an accent that no one could place, he arrived with a full entourage of young and beautiful people, both male and female. Again, here accounts differ, some say that the Sultan actually hired a number of assassins to murder his brother and his entourage but others are far more sensational.”

“How much more sensational could it get?” an older woman whispered to her partner. 

“I don’t know,” the other woman whispered back, “maybe an orgy?”

John dropped her chin to Selene’s shoulder, burying his face in her neck as he tried not to laugh. Selene was less composed, out right giggling as he pulled her closer, his arms around her waist so she could lean back against his chest.

“The man and his ‘family’, for that was how he referred to them on the rent agreement, moved in. They immediately closed all the window shutters, hung heavy drapes and weren’t really ever seen again, although the neighbors knew they were in there. They could smell food cooking, they heard music playing at night and the smell of incense often wafted out. But, more disturbingly, the sound of screams would be heard, although it was never known if they were of pain, or pleasure. After a while the house grew quiet, no signs of life were seen and with the silence came a sickening smell. When the police broke down the door they found a scene that they likened to a slaughter house. Dead bodies were everywhere, blood splattered the walls and in the garden they found a freshly dug grave that contained the body of a man, supposedly buried alive. “

“Damn,” the woman who had suggested the orgy, muttered to her partner. "That's definitely not as much fun."

“As I said, accounts vary, some say that it was the sultan’s brother’s harem that had been killed and the brother was the body found in the garden, others say that the family escaped and killed those that either attacked them or that they were demons feeding on the flesh and souls of their victims. We will never know for sure. But rumour has it that the ghost of the sultan’s brother haunts these halls, that passers by still smell the incense and that the echoing screams can still be heard coming from inside.”

“Anything there?” John murmured in her ear, nodding towards the big building.

“There’s definitely an energy of some kind in there,” she answered, keeping her voice low and quiet. “It feels more like residual energy though, not so much an active spirit, but I'd have to be inside to know for sure.”

As they walked Delphine told them of another house, 734 Royal Street where a young black woman had frozen to death on the roof, having been told to disrobe and wait up there by her lover as a joke. He never expected her to do it and was the unlucky person to find her the next morning, naked, frozen, dead on the rooftop. It was said he died soon after from a broken heart.

Some people report to have seen a woman standing on the roof, being concerned enough to call the police. But as soon as the police hear the address they are known to dismiss it as just Julie, still waiting.

Next on their stop was the LaLaurie Mansion. Delphine, their guide, told them the story of Delphine LaLaurie, the beautiful lady of the house who married a man named Louie LaLaurie, a doctor from Europe. They were what was considered an it couple of the time, the height of fashion and threw extravagant parties to show off their wealth and to network.  

The only thing of note that anyone found strange about them was the high number of slaves they seemed to own. Delphine LaLaurie would explain it away as nothing if you asked, brushing it off but if you continued to press the issue, or asked anyone else, you would find yourself ousted, shunned, never to be invited back again.

On the tenth of April 1834, whilst hosting another of their elaborate events a fire broke out in the house. The fire brigade were called and soon had the flames under control. Everything seemed fine, the damage seemed to be minimal but they checked the area thoroughly, just to be sure.

The fire looked to have originated in the kitchen and there they found an older enslaved woman, huddled close to an open window, coughing harshly, almost overcome by smoke. They wondered why she had not left through the window to save herself, but they soon found the answer. They discovered that she was chained to the stove by her ankle, unable to even leave the room, let alone the house itself.

They questioned her on the fire and she admitted that she was responsible, she had set the fire. When they asked why she pointed above her head and told them to look in there. In the room above the kitchen, the slaves quarters, they met with the most horrific sight.

The attic room was full of tortured, mutilated slaves. The doors had been locked but they had soon broken it down. As soon as the doors had opened the smell that hit them had made them heave, some of them needing to turn away to vomit. Papers from the time told of at least seven slaves, chained, beaten, tortured. Victims of pain experiments, their muscles and limbs stretched and broken.

Even though the people of time didn’t hold slaves in the same regard as others they were up in arms, calling for the LaLaurie’s blood. A mob gathered outside but they could not find them, the LaLaurie’s had made their escape in a carriage.

“People talk of a dark and depressive atmosphere in the house,” Remi continued, “and many have reported to have seen the ghost of LaLaurie. A young couple once lived here with their baby. One night the man awoke to see a woman standing over the crib. At first he thought it was his wife but she was right there in bed beside him and she didn’t have long, red hair. He yelled out loud and the woman turned to look at him before running away. He made to follow but something told him not to, instead he stopped to check the baby. The baby’s sock had been removed and had been stuffed deep down into the baby's mouth, partially down its throat, choking it.”

“I don’t like this one,” Selene whispered, her eyes fixed on the building in front of them. Even though it was a lovely warm night and she had her shawl around her shoulders, John could feel that she was shivering and wrapped his arms around her tighter.

“There’s a darkness in there, not like at the Sultan’s Palace, different. I feel that this building still has evil inside it. The energy is so...spikey,” she finished, not really knowing how to describe it. “Like it could prick you or hurt you just because you were there. I can’t say if there are any spirits in there, I’d have to go in for that, but the things that happened in there, it’s soaked into the walls, the floor, everything.” 

She shuddered again, taking an instinctive step backwards, forcing John to do the same or have her knock him over. He knew what she meant, the house felt strange even to him, like every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to turn around and leave. He was a Tracy, he didn’t back down from anything, even with the fine hairs at the back of his neck standing to attention, but he was more than happy to start walking as the tour moved on.

The last stop on their tour before they moved on to the cemetery was the famous house of Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans who, despite being dead for over 250 years, still seemed to hold some sway over the city, still having powers from beyond the grave.

“Born in 1801, to a wealthy white plantation owner and her black mother, Marie was said to be incredibly beautiful,” Delphine told them. “She married and went on to have two children before her husband mysteriously went missing. After this she called herself a widow, though some people believe that this was simply to save face and that he had actually abandoned her and their children.”

“Is this place any better?” John asked, his voice low in her ear, making her shiver for an entirely different reason.

“Much better,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet. “I can feel power here, but it’s neutral, nothing that I would call malevolent or nasty.”

“After her husband’s disappearance she was in need of money with which to take care of herself and her children. With precious little options, she began working in a hair salon, serving wealthy white and Creole women of New Orleans. Just like the salons of today they were a hotbed for gossip and secret spilling. She hoarded the information she was privy to, using to her advantage to rise up the ranks of society.”

“Honestly, I  can respect that woman,” Selene muttered. “I gather gossip and use it to my advantage too.”

“Sweetheart, you said that finding Grandma’s old photo album and stealing the picture of Dad’s emo phase was you doing the Gods work.”

“I stand by that,” she sniffed, ignoring the giggle from the young man standing behind them.

“Marie entered into another relationship with a wealthy and powerful man from a prestigious local family,” Remi continued. “And they had a total of fifteen children in quick succession.”

“Sod that!” Selene yelped, crossing her legs in the ultimate act of self defence. 

“And you said I have too many brothers,” John teased, hugging her tighter when she attempted to elbow him.

“Obviously, with so many children to look after she found that her time was limited,” Delphine said, ignoring Selene’s outburst. “She quit her job at the hair salon and devoted herself to raising her children. It’s believe that this was the time when she started to pay more attention to her mothers voodoo beliefs and practices.”

The story, which Delphine and Remi continued to tell them as they walked towards their last stop of the night, St Louis Cemetery number one, said that while she had a basic knowledge from her mother she learnt most of her craft from a voodoo doctor known only as Doctor John.

Selene turned her head back to look at John as she walked beside her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a side hustle in Voodoo? You’ve been making me do all the magical heavy lifting for years.”

“Well, I had to leave you with something to do to make you feel useful,” he retorted, smacking a kiss on her lips when she squeaked a protest.

“Quite Christian based in the prayers used, voodoo combines the use of saints, incense and dance into its practice,” Remi continued as they walked. “She was known for her pet snake which she had named Zombie, and for providing Gri-Gri bags, spiritual readings, spells, fortune telling and mediumship for the wealthy of New Orleans upper class. She was said to have died with a smile on her face in 1881 and, when her death was reported in the newspapers they called her the kindest woman that had ever lived. She was said to have nursed the sick and helped out with all manner of problems that people might have, although many said it wasn’t so much because of her magical abilities that she was so powerful, but the secrets that she kept. Secrets that kept many politicians in her debt.”

They came to stop outside the crumbling white walls that surrounded the cemetery, glowing eerily in the rapidly darkening twilight between dusk and full night. The walls themselves were actually made up of wall tombs, a place for families who couldn’t afford a large above ground one.

“Marie Laveau was laid to rest right here in this very cemetery. It’s said that she still wields a remarkable amount of power even from beyond the grave, so much so that people often petition her spirit in the hopes that she will grant their wishes,” Delphine said as they entered. 

She and Remi led the way through a maze of tombs, some old and crumbling, others surrounded by iron railings that tilted at odd angles due to age and decay, some large, some small, some classical, some extravagant while others were just so outlandish that they looked completely out of place.

They stopped beside a rather plain white tomb, relatively small in comparison to some of the others they had already seen. Delphine reached out a hand to touch the side of the tomb, right beside a green X that had been scrawled on the paint.

“The practice has since been banned and is considered a criminal offence, but in the past people would mark her grave with an X, although as you can see some people ignore the law. The ritual stated that you should mark the grave with an X, turn around three times, knock on the tomb and then yell out your wish. If the wish came true you were supposed to return, draw a circle around your X and leave an offering to the lady.”

“I can think of a few wishes I’d like granted,” a lady in their group stated, making a fair few people laugh. “Not much, just a few million in the bank, a nice house and a good looking man on my arm.”

“Well, I can’t help with the millions,” her husband said, “but at least you have the good looking man.”

“Yeah, in my dreams,” she countered, although he didn’t seem too offended by it.

“Marie’s ghost has been spotted in many locations throughout the French quarter where she made her home," Remi told them. "She is most recognizable by the red and white turban tucked around her hair and the bright clothes she wears. People are still drawn to her and often follow her wanting to introduce themselves but she always vanishes, sometimes right in front of them, before they can do so.”

“She doesn’t sound scary,” a man said dismissively. 

“Oh, she’s seen as very friendly,” Delphine answered, “until you cross her. She’s been seen many times in this cemetery, walking between and sometimes through the tombs. Usually she leaves you be but, if you do anything that she deems disrespectful, such as disregarding or insulting her beliefs or religion she has been known to scratch, pinch and shove people to the ground. Voices have been heard coming from inside her tomb and some people that get too close have reported feeling sick.”

“She’s not too bad,” a voice beside Selene and John said in a conversational tone.

“Have you seen her?” Selene asked, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Delphine and Remi as they told of the cities other famous inhabitants of the cemetery such as Bernard de Marigny and Barthelemy Lafon.

“Seen who?” John asked, dragging his attention away from the talk and back to her.

“Sorry, wasn’t talking to you,” she whispered.

“Do you happen to know where the Vignes tomb is?” the man asked, changing the subject from ghost talk to something more mundane. 

“No, sorry, we’re just on a tour here, we don’t know the area,” Selene admitted.

“Who were you talking to?”

“This guy,” she said, nodding towards the blond man who had begun to wander closer to the front of the tour group, obviously wanting to take advantage of listening to the information without having to pay for the privilege like the rest of them had.

“Who?”

“Him,” she replied, waving in his direction. "That new guy, he definitely wasn't with us at the start. He must have joined in along the way."

“There’s no one there, Sel,” John said quietly. She looked at him, studying his face to make sure he wasn't messing with her, but he seemed serious enough. She sighed, for someone so observant John certainly seemed to be missing the obvious. 

“Yes there is, he’s right there,”  she insisted. Praying for patience she grabbed his hand to drag him closer. “See? He's right there.”

“Yes,” John gulped, eyes widening, “I actually do see him.”

“Right, so he was saying that Marie Laveau isn’t as bad as everyone says she is, I assume he meant that her spirit isn’t that menacing, I was asking him if he’d seen her but then you interrupted and-”

“Sel,” John interrupted, his eyes locked on the man who was meandering back their way, “I don't think he joined the tour, he just walked straight through that tomb.” 

“Damn, then he’s got some serious energy in him,” she breathed, catching John’s meaning. “He must have if I didn’t sense it straight away.”

“Sorry, I had to listen to make sure they told my story right,” the ghost said, reaching her side. John’s eyes almost fell out of his head, confirming that he could now hear him as well as see him.

“Oh, are you a famous one?” Selene asked as the tour moved on, affording them a little more privacy to talk. 

“My name is  Henry,” he told them, dipping in a courtly little bow. “Oh, that's my cue, if you’ll excuse me…”

Henry vanished and reappeared nearer the front of the tour. Making a face of pure boredom he stepped into a gap between two tombs and moaned in a low, quiet voice. “I need to rest.”

Several people in the tour jumped and an older lady stumbled. John, actinb on instinct, reached out to steady her, letting go of Selene’s hand in the process.

“Where did he go?” John asked, returning to her side after assuring himself that the lady was unharmed. 

“No where, he’s still right there,” she answered, giving Henry a small wave.

“No, he’s not.”

“He is,” she insisted, “come on, we’ll go talk to him again.”

“As we were saying,” Remi could be heard above the mutterings of the other attendees. “The story of Henry Vignes is a sad one. A sailor who trusted the wrong person, Henry died having no place to be laid to rest, his tomb sold by the lady he had entrusted with his most important papers.”

Henry nodded sadly, leaning casually against the side of a tomb.

“He has been seen by many people, usually so clearly that they do not realise that he is even a ghost,” Delphine told them. Henry preened a little at that. 

“He often strolls right up to tourists and asks them where the Vignes tomb is located as he’s having trouble finding it himself. He’s even been known to appear at funerals and ask if there is any room left in there for him.”

Selene giggled, she couldn’t help it and Henry winked at her, tipping his hat before fading away.

“Are you sure he was still there?” John asked later that night as the tour returned to the french quarter meeting place. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she sighed. “I don’t know what happened there, you seemed to see-”

“And hear,” John added.

“And hear him just fine. Then all of a sudden you couldn’t anymore.”

“I couldn’t at first either,” he reminded her, “I thought you were talking to yourself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she grumbled. “Sometimes I’m the only person that will listen to me.”

“Was there anything you did that might have allowed me to see him?” John asked, ignoring her insinuation that he never listened to her. He listened to her all the time, he was just selective with what he chose to reply to, knowing she needed very little encouragement with some of her more ridiculous ideas.

“No, I didn’t do anything at all,” she promised him. “All I did was move you closer so I could point him out.”

“You took hold of my hand,” he said, mentally rerunning the moment in his head. “And kept hold of it the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” she reminded him. “When Henry did his haunting voice that lady stumbled and you caught her before she hit the deck.”

“And I didn’t hold your hand again until we were walking back,” he finished. 

“Nah, it can’t be that simple,” she scoffed. “I hold your hand all the time.”

“But have you ever done it while there was a spirit around?” he asked, guiding her around a group of drunken young ladies all carrying brightly coloured cocktails in yard long plastic containers with straws sticking out of them, most of which were being eagerly slurped from as they walked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, thinking about it. “I don’t think so now that you mention it.”

“Do you think that could be another side effect of that little bonding mistake we made?”

“I guess anything is possible,” she mused. “Tanzi did say that we might keep noticing new things for a while after.”

“I guess there’s only one way to know for sure,” he shrugged, “you’ll just have to make sure you tell me next time you see one.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised him. He smiled at that, knowing how just a few years ago she would never have dared to even agree to try, let alone have any intention of doing so. Her ex, Nathaniel was responsible for messing up many things in her life, her confidence in herself and her abilities being one of them, but John was determined that, no matter how long it took, he was going to prove to her that she never needed to be wary again.

Bourbon street at night was like no place they had ever been before. They heard it before they even got close, the neon lights glowing from a distance. The lights reminded Selene of London but that was where the similarities ended. 

The entire street was a wall of noise, music of all kinds seeming to spill out of every single bar on the strip on either side. She felt John tense beside her, knowing that it wasn’t somewhere he would be at all comfortable.

“Do you want to try and avoid it?” she asked and he nodded gratefully. A quick word with Remi and they had secured directions and a suggestion to head down Dauphine St instead of continuing onto Bourbon. They could follow it until they reached St Phillip’s St which would lead them to the intersection where their hotel was located.

They thanked him and Delphine for a fun and informative tour and struck out on their own. Dauphine street was much quieter than Bourbon appeared to be, there were still small crowds milling around outside but not enough to send John into flight mode, so they took that as a win.

“Want to grab a drink?” John offered but Selene shook her head.

“No thanks, I’m not really feeling it today, maybe it’s the crowds or all the walking but I think I’d rather wait until we get closer to the hotel, that way we can find a quieter one to try before we head to bed.”

“Good plan,” he agreed, pulling her in closer. It was only eleven at night, relatively early for them, but they had had a long day and the thought of the comfy bed awaiting them was a very pleasant one.

They located the intersection where Dauphine met St Paul's and soon hit the tail end of Bourbon. From there the music was far more bearable, seeming to be a mixture of classic rock, Selene could hear Smoke on the Water playing from a bar, and some kind of Jazz.

With Virgil, Scott and Jeff being fans of old fashioned Jazz music they decided to move a little further in that direction, meaning to take a video or two to show the others when they got home. That was their first mistake.

“No, no way,” John protested as a woman separated herself from the crowd outside the bar where a band was playing and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, honey, you have to dance,” she insisted, swirling on the spot and dragging him with her.

“Help!” he yelped as his arm was pulled this way and that by the enthusiastic woman. 

“Little busy,” Selene laughed, having been swept up into the arms of a man who was trying to lead her in some kind of 1920’s era Jazz hop dance that involved a lot of quick footwork and much arm waving.

John managed to escape as the band paused before launching into their next number and stole Selene back. She took full advantage, holding on to his hand as the music began to play again. 

A couple near them started something that looked vaguely like a charleston mixed with a waltz that Selene was determined to try to copy. Neither she nor John were very good, not knowing the steps or the music enough to actually follow along and ended up finding their own rhythm, not caring that they didn’t match the others, not caring that they were slower and less energetic. It was nice, it was simple and it was very much them.

“Thank you for forcing me to celebrate my birthday,” she said, pulling him in closer to steal a quick kiss.

“My pleasure,” he grinned, twirling her on the spot then dipping her in his arms. “Anything for the birthday girl.”

-x-

“It was so nice to see Myst again,” Selene sighed, relaxing deeper into the passenger seat of Jeff’s jet as they cruised over the Pacific, on course for Tracy Island. 

“I haven’t seen her in two years, not since she last visited Tanzi, I can’t believe how great the shop looked, they’ve run it for years but don’t get to spend much time there.”

“Well, with what we spent they'll still be open for at least another ten,” he teased, not in the least concerned by her shopping spree. You only turned thirty once and if she wanted to buy up half of the shop that was her choice.

“I didn’t buy that much,” she pouted, but couldn’t hold it for too long when, with a no doubt on purpose twitch of the controls, the little plane rolled sideways, sending a number of bags cascading to the floor.

“You were saying?”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” she huffed, trying not to laugh. "You said they were birthday presents.”

“So I did,” he agreed, lifting his hand off her knee to poke the console, bringing up a comm line to the island, announcing their impending arrival.

Virgil had messaged earlier that morning to say that he was picking up Celia and Adam in time for their return, so all they had to worry about was enjoying a leisurely breakfast.

They took him at his word and shared a delicious three egg omelette, an order of beignets and the best coffee she had tasted in forever.  Bellies full and suitably rested after an uneventful nights sleep in the hotel, the resident ghosts declining to visit, they had wandered around Jackson Square and the shops of the French quarter. 

John had insisted that he was hungry again and craving something special for lunch, that something special had turned out to be oysters. Selene had watched in morbid fascination mixed with horror as he had proceeded to devour a dozen oysters speckled with hot sauce, which she refused to try, while she munched her seafood salad. She was still undecided if watching him swallow them down whole so easily was hot or disturbing, the jury was still out.

Cherise had been as good as her word, waiting for them to dock from the ferry and taxing them to the bar where the jet waited for them. They had waved a happy goodbye after awkwardly stuffing their shopping (the pieces they hadn’t arranged to have delivered) and overnight bags into the back and taken off for home.

“I hope mum doesn’t make dinner awkward,” Selene sighed, knowing that with her family anything was possible. “I know she’s going to be a bit disappointed that I didn’t want to spend the actual day with her.”

“Then let her, you can always blame it on me.”

“My hero,” she smiled, lifting his hand to her lips to kiss it. “What would I do without you?”

“Marry Scott?” he joked, ducking out of the way of the smack she aimed at his shoulder. 

“I think Cat would have something to say about that,” she huffed. “Besides, you know you’re the only man for me.”

“I know, but it’s nice to be reminded now and then.”

She was still giggling, feeling relaxed and happily clinging to his arm, as the lift from the hangars completed its ascent, the doors opening to spill them out into the hall just beyond the lounge.

“Why do I hear music?” Selene asked suspiciously.

“I have no idea,” John admitted as they rounded the corner into the lounge.

Selene stopped dead in the doorway, as did John, unable to believe what they were seeing with their own two eyes.

“Am I that old now that I need glasses,” she whispered, “or am I actually seeing this?”

“Unfortunately it’s very real,” he whispered back, wrapping his arm around her protectively.

The lounge lights were flickering to the beat of the music, someone had laid out food on the coffee table, including a plate of mini sausages that Armstrong was steadily working his way through and someone had opened the concealed drinks cabinet.

It wasn’t the fact that there was quite clearly a party in full swing, a party that she had said on no uncertain terms wasn’t to happen, it wasn’t the fact that the entire family , plus her mother, Adam, Cat, Penelope, Parker, Bandon, Conrad and Moffie were all there.

No, it was the fact that each and every one of them was sporting a wig in various shades and stripes of purple and black. Wigs they had apparently teamed with half the contents of her wardrobe and every band T-shirt Jeff had ever collected.

“What the ever loving fu-”

The music quietened as the party animals realised they were no longer alone. They looked at John and Selene rather guiltily, not saying a word.

Scott, who had somehow squeezed his chest back into her favourite corset, was tossed under the bus and shoved forward to greet her.

“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed, trying to back away as he advanced on her, arms open in anticipation of a hug.

The world's most annoying best friend simply grinned at her, flashing those dimples that he knew she could never resist.

She tried to duck behind John but Scott was too quick for her, herding her directly into the path of the oncoming Virgil.

She was swept up into a bone crushing bear hug, vanishing under the tide of Tracys that descended to join in.

-x-

“Admit it, it wasn’t that bad,” John said, catching up with her beside the pool and handing her another can of her favourite cherry coke.

“I didn’t want a party,” she argued.

“But…”

“But I guess it wasn’t that bad,” she admitted, moving over on the padded bench seat to make room for him to sit next to her.

“They only did it because they love you.”

“I know, but they are all idiots.”

“I know, but it was a special birthday and they wanted to celebrate with you.”

“I know,” she said, leaning against his side with a contented sigh. 

"I've got a present for you," he announced, jiggling his shoulder to get her to move and shifting so he could dig into his hoodie pocket. 

"Really? Why?" 

"Because it's your birthday."

 "You really didn't have to, New Orleans was more than enough."

"The trip was supposed to have been for our anniversary, I just moved it forward," he reminded her. "Besides, I'd be a pretty lousy husband if I didn't get you something special to mark the occasion."

He offered her a bright green velvet pouch which looked to contain something rectangular and hard. 

"Open it," he instructed. 

"OK." She did as he bid, noticing that he was watching her very closely. Did he think she wouldn't like it? 

She loosened the draw strings and tipped the pouch up, catching the bundle of cards that slid out. 

"Tarot cards? What are they…" she paused, turning them over, her eyes widening as she realised exactly what they depicted. 

"Oh my gods," she gasped then burst out laughing. "These are amazing!" 

She flicked through them quickly, laughing even more at some of the pictures, each matching perfectly with the subject. 

"Where the hell did you find Muppets Tarot cards?" Kermit was the Emperor, Miss Piggy his Empress, Fozzy the Fool, Sam the Eagle as Justice, Animal as the Devil and most perfect of all, Statler and Waldorf as Judgement. 

"Tanzi put me in touch with someone who makes one of a kind sets to order," he replied, breathing a little easier now that he saw she liked them. 

"They're perfect, absolutely perfect. I love them so much."

"Good," he smiled, slipping his arm back around her waist and pulling her in closer. "I wasn't sure if it was something you would like or I should actually buy for you and didn't want to do the wrong thing. But Tanzi said that tarot cards are often gifted to people so it was OK." 

"Why would you think I wouldn't like them?" she asked softly. 

"I know how important your tools are to you and how Nathaniel never respected them. I guess I wanted to show you that I care too, that I'll always respect you and your beliefs."

"You are the best husband in the world," she assured him, pulling him closer for a kiss. "I love that you did this and I love that you know me so well that you could commission the most perfect set of cards just for me. Thank you, I love them."

"You're very welcome. I'm glad you like them."

"You always surprise me, just when I think you couldn't be any more amazing you pull something like this out of the bag, literally," she laughed, holding up the green pouch. 

"So, does this mean that you enjoyed turning thirty?" 

“I guess, as birthdays go, it wasn’t too awful.”

“Not too awful?” he mock gasped, clutching his heart. 

“Not awful,” she repeated, tipping her head back for another kiss. “Did you know they were planning all that?”

“Not all of it,” he admitted, “I suspected that they might not stick to a quiet meal but the rest was as much of a surprise to me as it was you.”

She let out an elegant snort in response, clearly not convinced.

“Honestly it was,” he promised, making the rescue scout sign. "Scouts honour."

“OK, I believe you, even though you weren't the scout, Scott was.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulders, his head tipped back to look up at the night sky above their heads. “All over for another year, how do you feel?”

“Better than I did yesterday morning,” she answered.

“Good, then my work here is done.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the peace of the late night,

“You’re quiet,” he said softly a few minutes later. “Everything alright?”

“Yep,” she promised. "I'm just thinking.”

“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?”

“Yep,” she repeated, grinning evilly. “I was thinking that mine isn't the only special birthday this year.”

Realisation dawned on him, a feeling of dread skittering up his spine.

“No, absolutely not.”

“But you said it yourself, you only turn thirty once.”

“No.”

“You forced me to celebrate, so it’s your turn next.”

“No, listen to me very carefully. I, as your husband, forbid it.”

“I’m thinking of a nice, relaxing trip somewhere quiet. I’ve heard that Finland does an amazing range of glass igloos to stay in to watch the sky, it's supposed to be beautiful that time of year.”

That didn't sound too bad, he had to admit. 

“OK, that wouldn’t be too terrible,” he agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. “For a second I thought you were going to say you were planning a party.”

“Would I do that?” she asked innocently, sliding out of his arms and off the bench. "I'm just going to show these to Mum, she'll have a fit."

“No, you aren't. Get back here. I forbid you to even think about planning a party."

"I'm not planning anything," she said, deftly avoiding his attempts to catch her and pull her back down. 

"Promise me you won't plan a party," he pleaded. 

"I promise," she vowed, dancing around the side of the pool towards the kitchen. 

John's eyes narrowed, she looked entirely too suspicious…

“I’m going to leave that to Scott.”

She dropped her bombshell, turned tail and ran like her life depended on it. 

#selene tempest #John Tracy #birthday girl #birthday trip #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds 2015 #healthy relationships #relationship goals

[katblu42]

Bandit

Remember the whump generator wheel?  I decided I would spin it 5 times to give myself a prompt pairing for each brother.  Some of the pairings have prompted rather un-whumpy ideas!  This is the first result.

I need to say that I have no experience with these creatures, and no knowledge of housing construction (and a tendency to get very frustrated with researching stuff very quickly), so I apologise for any inaccuracies in those departments.

Gordon, Help Eating and Vent

It turns out to be fluff instead of whump, and I realise it may not exactly address the intended idea of help eating, but . . . here it is anyway!

At first he thought he was imagining it, but over the course of the last hour the little scratching noises had increased.  It was distracting him from his homework.  Something was inside his bedroom wall, he was sure of it.  Gordon wondered whether he should tell one of his brothers.  More specifically one of his older brothers.  Telling Alan would only get the kid excited and make rescuing whatever animal was stuck in the wall more difficult.

Scratch.  Scuffle, scratch, scrabble, scratch.

As quietly as he could, he slid the chair back from his desk, tip-toed to the wall and pressed his ear against it.  Nothing. He almost gave up, thinking perhaps whatever it was had gone somewhere else, or fallen asleep, then he heard a quiet swooshy movement – the kind his hand might make if he brushed it against the wall.  Scratch, scratch.  It was close now.  Low down, near the floor.  His eyes swept along the skirting board until he spotted the vent on the other side of his desk.

Hmm.  If he could get the vent open maybe he could spot the animal stuck in the wall and maybe even get it out.  On close inspection of the 8” by 6” vent cover he could see it was attached to the wall with 4 small screws.  He’d need tools.  And maybe snacks to encourage the animal to come out.  And maybe a box or something to put the creature in until he could relocate it outside.  Yep, he had a plan.  He darted out of the room to collect the items he needed.

Wham!  He darted straight into Virgil.

“Whoa!  Where’s the fire?”  Virgil caught hold of him by the shoulders, steadying him and making sure he was not about to hurt himself after bouncing off his bigger brother’s chest.

“Ooof!  Sorry, Virg.”  Gordon spoke almost at the same time, made sure his feet were solidly planted again and shrugged away from Virgil’s grip.  Curiosity and concern burned down at him from beneath raised eyebrows. He felt his own eyes betray him as he glanced back towards his room and back up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Gordon put his hand over his heart. “It’s just . . . there’s a . . . I was just going to . . .”  He sighed – a physical thing involving his whole body – and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor for a moment.  When he finally looked back up at Virgil the familiar expression of patient calm he found there gave him the encouragement he needed.  “I think there’s an animal stuck in my wall and I need to get some stuff so I can see if I can rescue it.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. That was all it took.  Gordon knew he had an ally.  He showed Virgil the vent he wanted to open, described the noises he’d heard and waited impatiently with his bigger brother until they both heard the noises again.  Virgil agreed to help him open the vent, suggesting a box to catch the animal in was a must, but perhaps they should hold off on the snacks until they discovered what type of animal it was and therefore what it might eat, and whether it needed coaxing out of the wall space.

While Virgil went to collect the right type of screwdriver and a couple of other tools (just in case), Gordon prepared a makeshift animal carry box.  He dumped the dirty laundry out of the plastic laundry bin from the corner of his room.  Its sides were a kind of latticework that would ensure the animal could still breath when he placed the lid on top.  He lined the bottom of the bin with a few towels so the creature would be comfy.

Virgil returned with the tools and a flashlight.  Together they moved Gordon’s desk so they had more room to work around the vent. Virgil made short work of the removal of the first 2 screws.

“Get ready with that nest of yours, Gordon,” he said as he lined up the screwdriver on the third screw. “Hold it close to the wall, below the vent, just in case the cover swings loose and the animal makes a run for it.”

It was at that moment Gordon remembered Virgil had a fairly strong dislike of rats and mice.  The expression of grim determination on his brother’s face suggesting he was forcing himself to continue his task despite the fear made Gordon feel kind of proud of him.

The third screw was removed, but the vent cover stayed firmly in place.  Virgil moved on to the last screw and Gordon kept the re-purposed laundry bin in place. This last one proved difficult to remove, rusted in place. With a grunt from Virgil and a slight cracking sound the screw finally began to move, and within a few turns of the screwdriver was moving more freely.  Once all the screws were out Virgil had to use a flat bladed driver to prise the top of the vent cover free from the wall.  Before removing it all the way he glanced at his younger brother, who nodded in confirmation that he was ready.  The cover came off the vent and . . . nothing happened.

Gordon let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and put the laundry basket nest down. The sudden release of tension in Virgil’s shoulders indicated his brother probably felt much the same way as he put the vent cover down, resting it against the wall.

“Let’s take a look,” Virgil suggested as he reached for the flashlight.  “See if we can see who’s in here, or something to show us what we might be dealing with.”

Gordon inched himself closer so he could see inside the vent as Virgil clicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness.  The beam of light illuminated a small section of flexible ducting before it curved upward. Both brothers felt a little deflated at this result until they heard the scuffling noise close by.  Remaining silent and keeping the flashlight beam steady, they waited and were rewarded by the sudden appearance of a pair of eyes glowing back at them from a black, white and grey banded furry face.

“It’s a racoon,” Virgil stated with an audible sigh of relief.  “It must have made a hole in the ducting there near the bend, look.”

As the little furry head disappeared again Gordon could just make out the ragged edges of the hole Virgil was trying to catch in the flashlight beam.  A frown creased his forehead as his attention turned to how they were going to get the little guy out.

“What are you thinking, Gordon?”

“Do you think Alan’s small enough to crawl in there and rescue Bandit?”

The look of horrified surprise on his big brother’s face, which quickly flickered through a glare in response to Gordon’s mischievous smile, before settling on mild confusion greatly amused the younger boy.

“You named the racoon Bandit?”

“Yep.”

“And you know Alan wouldn’t fit in there, and even if he did we would not be sending him in there after a wild animal.”  Virgil’s eye roll and head shake just amused Gordon more.

“I know, but it’s fun to see the faces you make when you think I’m being serious.”

“Ha ha.”  Virgil turned off the flashlight and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, sitting back on his heels.  “We’re gonna need to figure out how to get this little guy – Bandit – out of there, and we’re gonna need to tell Dad about this.”

“We do?  Why?”

“Because Bandit is only a kit and that means his mom and the rest of his family could be in the house somewhere, probably in the attic.”

“Awww.”  Gordon’s features scrunched into his that’s-so-cute face.  “Mumma racoon’s missing one of her babies.  We gotta get Bandit back to his family.”

“We have to get him out here first, Squid.”

“Snack time!”  Gordon stood up and was two steps towards the door faster than Virgil could react, then he suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do baby racoons eat?”

Neither brother knew the answer to that question, so a quick internet search was carried out.  A trip to the kitchen was made and Gordon returned with two pairs of rubber gloves – because racoons can carry rabies and it’s best to be as safe as possible – an old baby bottle with a little milk in it and a few different fruits and nuts.  They didn’t know whether Bandit had teeth yet or not, so the kit might not be ready for solid foods, but they also weren’t sure if cow’s milk would be suitable for a baby racoon.

The first attempt at coaxing Bandit out of the vent involved placing a few berries and nuts as far into the ducting as Virgil could reach with the aim of attracting the little racoon and then luring it out with a trail of food.  After a few minutes of waiting the scratching, scuffling noises were heard, a little black nose appeared through the hole in the ducting . . . then disappeared again.

Ten more minutes of waiting and no further activity passed before Gordon decided they should try some banana. He took prime position kneeling on the floor in front of the vent. Virgil moved over beside him aiming the flashlight, and holding the laundry bin nest at the ready.  Gordon held a few pieces of smooshy banana in his gloved fingertips and slowly stretched his arm as far into the vent as he could reach.  With his arm and the flashlight taking up most of the available opening he had to press his face up near the vent and look through one eye in order to see inside.

The two boys waited silently, listening for the tell-tale noises of movement within the wall cavity. It wasn’t long before Bandit made another appearance, the little black nose twitching as the kit cautiously emerged through the hole and tentatively advanced toward Gordon’s hand.  Gordon spoke words of encouragement to Bandit and tried to make coaxing “racoon noises”.

“Come on, that’s it.” He made a few squeaky sucking noises through his teeth.  “Come get some yummy banana.”

The coaxing noises gave way to sounds Virgil recognised as Gordon’s too-excited-by-the-cute-animal-for-real-words vocalisations as Bandit began licking at Gordon’s gloved fingertips and making vocalisations of its own.  Each time the kit stopped licking Gordon inched his hand a little nearer to the exit of the vent and Bandit followed, drawn by the tantalising promise of more of the tasty fruit.  Bandit’s little paws tried to grab onto Gordon’s fingers, perhaps to stop them moving away, but the gradual progress towards the vent continued.

When Gordon had withdrawn his arm far enough for them to be able to see without the flashlight Virgil turned his attention to the prospect of containing the little critter.  He broke off a little more of the banana and placed it on the towels inside the laundry bin to encourage the kit inside.  Gordon was talking to Bandit again, softly, soothing, encouraging the kit to keep edging closer to the edge.  His hand was all the way out now, held just in front of the opening and Bandit’s head was tentatively peeking out into the room. The little nose still twitched, the tiny paws kept reaching out to hold fingers or bits of mushy banana.  Ever so slowly Gordon moved his other hand into position above the vent and while Bandit was busily focusing on the banana smeared hand he gently took hold of the kit and lifted him out.  Moving both hands in tandem, and with Virgil bringing the laundry bin close, Bandit was quickly transferred into the little nest. Gordon kept the hand with the food close to Bandit, moving it towards the banana pieces Virgil had placed in there. Soon Bandit was holding a piece of fruit in tiny paws and Gordon withdrew his hand altogether.

Making sure Bandit was as comfortable as possible the boys placed the lid firmly on the laundry bin, and shared a high five.  Now they just had to remove the fruit and nuts from the ducting, replace the vent cover, clean up the mess they’d made in Gordon’s room, tell their Dad about Bandit and the potential family of racoons somewhere in the house, reunite Bandit with the rest of the family and safely re-home all the racoons.  Should be easy, right?

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #fluff #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds #I spin the wheel of whump and end up writing fluff

[princeanxious]

I love your dragon au, may I have some headcanons?

Uh sure! You weren’t ship specific so i’ll try and be a lil broad and touch on a few for all of em! (Theyre all interconnected in a way but often spend much of their time together apart from the others bc thats how dragons be, even if these dragons are much more social than the average dragon)

Demus- Dragon Remus x Prince(ess) Janus

- Janus is ftm trans! His parents were never supportive and actively tried to hide that from that kingdom at every turn, so, he may have secretly gotten a certain mage’s help “cursing” him with snake/dragon scales & additional certain masculine attributes so that he’d be sent away and get time to live his life without royal duties breathing down his neck. Even if he’d have to live the rest of his life as a prince locked away in a tower.

-Remus is a Dragon that’s known to be very curious, driven to hoard things that intruige him. He lives in a castle he and his brother Roman overtook years ago, and they guard it and their hoards within it well. However, one day a nearby kingdom reached out to them with an offer: if they guard and protect Prince Janus while the kingdom scrambles to figure out what to do, the dragons will recieve offerings to add to their hoards along with provided meals and the means to provide for Janus. All the kingdom requests is to keep Janus safe and happy.

-and of course, they agree to. And Remus falls head over tail inlove in a matter of days. Janus follows soon after he finds that Remus is completely unbothered and supportive of Janus’s transition.

-Janus and Roman also get along super well, tho not in a romantic sense, especially after Roman learns of Janus’s love for plays and acting skills. Roman also gifts a few intricate outfits to Janus from his Hoard of beauty and passion bc they fit the short prince quite well, and because Janus wasn’t given anything to wear from his kingdom aside from tailored princess dresses(which he doesn’t usually mind the skirts portions now w/ his new body but somedays the disphoria would spike back out if he looked in the mirror while wearing one). Roman also helped cut Janus’s hair, and both dragons would growl threateningly at any kingdom official who dared look at Janus’s attire change questioningly. If anyone asked, it was because it made Janus happy and feel safe, and that was their job, was it not?

-Janus loves his new Dragon Boyfriend and his new Dragon brother-in-law(technically?) and this result just solidifies his confidence in the decision he made to get here. Roman and Remus know about the secret behind the curse and what Janus did to get here, they think he’s super fcking clever bc of it. And, Ro and Re swear on their hoards that they’ll never spill the secret if Dee doesn’t want them to, one because the Kingdom would then have a lead on trying to Reverse the Curse, and two, because it would put the life of the mage who was asked to do it in danger, and three, because their dragons and dragons are very very good at protecting what they love.

Logince- Dragon Roman x Knight Logan

-Logan is a prince to a neighboring kingdom, and he was betrothed to Janus in an arranged marraige sort of settup. Niether of them loved the other like that, but they were best friends and Logan respected(and defended) Janus being trans. So when he finds out something happened to Janus, he’s alarmed and upset that he wasn’t informed sooner. Then he finds out Janus is being guarded by dragons, of all things! And well, he needs to make sure Janus us safe, and find out whats wrong, what happened? And no one stops him from traveling out to the castle that houses the dragons to find out. The least he can do is make sure Janus is okay and respected by the dragons, but like hell is he going to wait for Janus’s scrabling kingdom to catch up.

The first thing he’s greeted by is a tall red scaled dragon, and he’s immediately on guard. The dragon grins and drops into a defense position. They don’t ask the other questions, which Janus will give both of them shit for later, but both parties are fueled by challenge and protective goals. And they launch into battle without a word.

-Roman is immediately intruiged and excited to find how Logan matches him in a fight, actually standing a pretty solid chance despite his weight and height. Logan is a skilled swords man, the best in his kingdom, its a shame his only downfall is that Roman has twice the height on him and more than twice the muscles, figuratively and literally. But even then Logan isn’t deterred and is capable of flipping the dragon onto his back which is p hot roman cant lie, so its a p even scuffle bc Romans highly entertained w/ this mysterious attacker.

-they kinda get caught up in the scuffle for a good while till Remus comes out to investigate and Logan disengages and dashes into the forest bc he’s smart enough to know he can’t really win the fight w/ one dragon, two is a death sentence.

-roman spends the whole night heated and excited as he rambles about the gorgeous short knight who nearly kicked his ass. Logan spends the whole night rethinking his strategy and trying not to get distracted by the memory of the infuriatingly hot smirk the dragon kept aiming at him.

-they scuffle twice more, filled with witty remarks and snarky quips that progressively get more flirty before they think to speak about /why/ Logan wants into the castle b4 the truth comes out.

-both are a little sheepish when Janus finds out just who Roman’s been waxing poetic about kicking his butt in an even match and spend a good 20 minutes scolding their gay af selves. Then Logan gets updated on the whole situation, including his not so subtle transition and his new dragon bf. Logan gets the dragon’s permission to visit so long as he keeps things a secret, and he scoffs that they’d think he’d even dare to try to ruin his best friends happiness.

-niether of them really knows when their little rivalry picked back up, but Roman and Logan spend their time together bickering and taunting eachother while playing a semi-unbalanced game of cat and mouse. Logan’s not allowed into the castle w/o playing their game first, and he honestly doesn’t mind. Their interactions get way more flirty and theyre just gay disasters that take way to long to admit their developing feelings till it all kinda rushes out the moment Roman pins Logan to a wall and Logan reaponds by locking his legs around the other, daring to keep him there.

-yeah they express their feelings to eachother in many ways that day. And Logan ends up secretly(to his kingdom at least) dating Roman, and Roman gets a prince bf of his own. They still taunt and play their game of cat and mouse tho, now its just accompanied by a ton more kissing.

Moxiety- Dragon Patton x Mage Virgil

-Virgil is the mage that helped Janus transition in secret, they’d been friends for a long while and meeting in secret to plan it. Virgil’s a pretty powerful mage and talented at what he does, and Janus’s trasition was a spell he cast himself, and its irreversable(on purpose, by Janus’s request/demand)

-Virgil travels alot now adays, never staying in one public place too long in fear of Janus’s knights suspecting him and capturing him. He knew the risk and was willing to pay the price to make Janus happy. He knows he must lay low for a while, and hes not very open about being a mage in fear of that being found out.

-well, one day he finds himself in a town not so open to the idea of magic in general. Its one slip up hes not sure he regrets to heal an injured child, but he finds him self tied to a wooden stake that same day, surrounded by a village chanting about how all magic is evil.

-and then a dragon swoops over and snags him from the fire as it ignites, just barely sinking his clothing before hes up in the sky. He promply blacks out from shock.

-and when he wakes up, he finds himself tucked carefully into a hammock with a soft blanket. The room he’s in is filled with an interesting assortment of things, haphazardly placed enough to register as a hoard than any other kind of room in this tower. That and the dragon that rescued him is resting nearby, his blue scaled wing outstretched and draped over Virgil protectively is kind of a dead giveaway too.

-Virgil would learn later that Patton had been following him, lead by how his hoarding instincts weirdly worked. He’d be thankful then, that they saved his life, despite the fact that he now technically counted to Patton’s instincts as part of his hoard. Patton was adamant that he’d been trying to rid himself of the attachment before, but once Virgil was in danger his insticts had been set aside to save the poor human. He couldn’t help that touching Virgil just solidified his instincts’s claim.

-Patton lets Virgil know he’s welcomed to leave any time he wants to, that they were safely away from the dangerous village now. Virgil finds he doesn’t want to leave just yet, and they settle on becoming friends.

-Patton is friends with Roman and Remus, and often visits them when he’s feeling too lonely. He’s plenty friendly with Janus and Logan at this point, being a much softer natured dragon than the twin dragons.

-the group finds it very, very coincidental and very ironic the first time Patton brings Virgil with him to hang out.

-their love story is a bit slower, but lets just say one day months down the line, Virgil pulls Patton into a really shy kiss and Patton all but startles Virgil with the happy purr that bursts from the back of his throat. Its not to much longer after that that theyre relationship is fully established.

#find more abt the other side of this au on my nsfs blog ;) #or send asks too. either way i rly do love this au #fantasy dragon au #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders gif #janus sanders #luka writes #logince #demus #moxiety

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 48]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Ugh I have so many boring things to do today, so have this.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

 He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

 Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

 “Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

 “I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

  Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

 Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

 He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

 “Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

 “I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

 “That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

 He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

 “Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

 “Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

 “That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

  Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

 Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

 “You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

 Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

 Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

 Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

 “Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

 “So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

 Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

 Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

 “Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

 Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

 It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

 They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

  Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

 Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

 “Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

 “I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

 Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

 He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

 “He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

 “Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

 “I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

 “We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

 “Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

 Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

 Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

  Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

 Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

 “Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

 To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

 Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

 This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

 “Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

 He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

 Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

 They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

 He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

 Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

  Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

 Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

 Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

 He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

 Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

 “You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

 “There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

 Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

 “That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

 “I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

  Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

 “Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

 Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

 Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

 Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

 Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

 He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

 Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

 Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

 Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

 The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

 “I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

 He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

 “Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

 Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

 He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

 Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

 There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

 Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

 “It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

 Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

  Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

#proofread stories #not writing

[katelynn-a-fan]

An Eve to Remember

This is my gift of @destinys-dragon. I’ve had creative block for nearly a whole month... I cranked out more than half of this today in 4ish hours so I’m glad to finally be able to gift this to you. I picked one of your more complicated prompts (I think) to write, but I did it!

Ao3

Summary: Thomas Sanders is trying to get a good nights rest for Christmas the next day, but a confusing appearance in his own mind leads him down a different path to... his own living room? Not everything's the same in his mind but by golly he is going to help his Sides the best he can to make sure that that night is the best Christmas (eve) they've had yet.

Parings: LAMP and Dukeciet/Demus

Word count: 4902 / 4.9k

Warning: Disorientation, slightly disturbing visuals, (passionate) Kissing, 

Thomas took a few experimental blinks as the heady feeling of drowsiness slowly ebbed away. His hand sluggishly rubbed his brow, insistent on kneading the fuzziness in his head out. Maybe then he could remember exactly how he got there.

Where am I?

His eyes very, very slowly adjusted to surroundings as his hands skirted across the tile-

The… tile… under him?

Why is there tile under me? That shouldn't be there unless I’m-

“Oh, you’re finally here!” His own voice called out from above him, but that wasn’t something unknown to him. What was unknown to him is how he got to where he was at that moment.

Thomas craned his neck towards the familiar pair of Warby Parker glasses and the soft gray and light blue blur of Patton. Another agonizing blinks passed before Thomas’s eyes finally resolved Patton’s face and his… blue and grey Christmas sweater? Even with the different attire, Patton’s signature grin was just as wide as always.

“Huh… hey Patton… Um…” Thomas bit his lip, his eyes glancing at various features around him. Sticking his hand out, Patton’s grin dipped a few millimeters as Thomas accepted Patton’s hand. Quickly pulling him up, Patton smoothed his thumb over Thomas’s knuckles. 

“Yes, Thomas?” 

He lingered his gaze around the clear space he was in, the short hallway of his own apartment. His gaze scoured every inch of the space, and everything about it just screamed: Different! 

“This… isn’t my actual apartment.”

Smile tilting sideways on his face, Patton wrapped his hands fully around Thomas’s.

“Of course it isn’t, silly! You’re asleep right now!”

Thomas’s hands flexed a little between Patton’s hands.

“I am? I’ve never done this before though- Been here with you guys before, I mean.”

Gently turning his hands, Patton made his grip into a proper handhold and began to lead Thomas down the much, much longer than usual corridor.

Laughing slightly Patton turned back to Thomas with a very sly twinkle in his eye.

“Oh you have, you just don’t remember afterwards-”

“Wait what-”

“Daddy! You left me alone with the cookies and nothing to fuck and I got myself dirty!” 

Thomas jumped as he finally rounded the nonsensical corner into his dream kitchen. Remus was standing on the counter with a fair amount of beige matter spattering his outfit, hair, and even his moustache. 

Letting go of Thomas’s hand finally, Patton grabbed a rag and quickly dampened it in the sink before tossing it up to Remus. Immediately snatching it out of the air, Remus bounced on the balls of his feet before sitting on the counter instead and swinging his legs as he cleaned himself off.

“Here you go! I’m surprised you didn’t set the kitchen on fire like last time.”

Hands pausing on his face, Remus’s legs quickly stopped swinging as Remus’s eyes went wide and he pushed his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I only make a mess when I’m not actually making something! That time I wasn’t even cooking anything.”

Placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder, Patton squeezed Remus’s shoulder.

“Hey, I believe you. It’s not everyday we do this. I’m sorry I assumed-”

Remus brushed off Patton’s hand from his shoulder after a moment, but grabbed it just before it was too far. 

“Nah I’m kidding about being mad, dear Daddy! Fires are just one of the hazards of being me!” 

Making eye contact, Patton smiled at Remus once again.

“Well that’s good! Thomas is here, though I think you knew that already.”

A smirk immediately plastered onto Remus’s face as he glanced over to where Thomas had been shifting from foot to foot in the kitchen entrance. 

“Ah, our resident Thomas the Dank Engine! Have you ever had dreams of sugar dicks dancing through your head?”

Thomas’s smile slowly turned wooden as a bitter taste invaded his mouth at Remus’s words. Skin crawling slightly, Thomas swallowed down a small lump in his throat before he managed to reply. 

I just want something wholesome. I don’t want to be thinking of that when I’m watching my parents or when I myself open presents.

“Uh, no…?”

“Well you just might have some after tonight!” Cackling, Remus stood back up on the counter before impossibly scurrying up the cupboards. The ceiling stretched impossibly high and out so that Remus slowly became just a pair of eyes in a dark cavern above the kitchen. Luckily, the moment didn’t last long and just as fast, Remus was scrambling down the cupboards once again to sit on the counter beside Patton.

Patton’s expression didn’t betray anything other than acute disinterest, however his hands silently tumbled over each other for a few moments.

“Well, Thomas, come here! We’re baking everything for the others!” Waving his hand invitingly, Patton gestured also to the oven where the oven light revealed a tray of cookies, a full blown turkey, a slab of ham, as well as some other things that managed to fill the impossibly big oven.

Thomas finally stepped forward.

Nose twitching a little, Thomas was suddenly bombarded with the strong smell of cookies.

“Whoa! This kitchen smells like the perfect Christmas, Pat!”

Chuckling, Patton wrapped his arms around Thomas in a quick hug.

“Well that’s the idea, kiddo!”

Squinting, he followed Patton with his eyes as Patton stepped back, the sensation of Patton’s embrace lingering on his skin.

“Did you just sneak in that hug because you ever get to in my videos? That hug seemed very targeted.”

Cheeks quickly turning pink, Patton nearly ducked his head away as he stepped back against the sink.

“That may be part of the reason.”

At that moment, the words embroidered on Patton and Remus' sweater finally revealed themselves.

Patton’s predictably read: Feliz Navi Dad and a Happy Blue Year.

But Remus’s was nearly illegible as the chaos of neon green on black made it almost unreadable, eventually, the words came together to spell out: I’m theTrashman and I’ll have all your wrapping paper.

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but a sound in the short distance caught his attention instead. He turned towards the source, over the counter and surely into the living room, but was met with the strangely comforting void of black beyond it.

“What’s happening in the living room? And why can’t I see it?”

Glancing fleetingly at the black void, Patton bounced over to Thomas.

“Oh that’s just your mind doing it’s thing. Not everything in this mind kitchen is going to be exactly the same, and sometimes when something’s changed, it just becomes blank space. It’s nice.” Patton gestured past Thomas towards the other direction both of them came from. “By the way, it’s not just us who’re here, everyone else is down the hall. You don’t have to stay talking with us. We still have a bit to do anyways.”

Eyes widening, Thomas whipped around towards the entrance of the kitchen and strained his ears towards the faint sounds from down the hall Thomas hadn’t been paying any attention to until now.

“There’s more to this place?”

A sparkle in his eyes had Patton’s smile widening and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes! And you can go wherever you want. This is your head after all.”

Thomas took an initial step towards the edge of the kitchen before he turned around and gave both a fleeting look and a comforting smile before he stepped out of the kitchen with a wave.

Just like the hallway from the entrance, the space between the hallway and the living room was strange, even the sounds were farther than they should’ve been.

The slightly harsher light from the overhead kitchen light slowly faded to something much more muted and pleasant as Thomas treaded carefully down the short end of the hallway to where the sounds of the other were coming from.

Shoulders the slightest bit hunched, Thomas tentatively peeked out from the corner of the hallway where it opened up into the living room. With a gasp, Thomas nearly fell into the living room at the sight that lay before him.

The space was definitely recognizable as his apartment, yet somehow completely different. Instead of the smaller dimensions of his real apartment, the living room was now a much larger open space full of architecture reminiscent of a log cabin. 

The staircase was still there, but was made of the more rustic wood like everything else. Something completely and entirely new was the roaring fire in a fireplace below the TV that was mounted above it instead of being in the corner like usual.

Not only that, but everything was also decorated to the nines in Christmas decorations, tinsel strung on the mantle very delicately and securely, a wreath on some of the posts, and the main attraction, the Christmas tree twinkling in the dim firelight.

As for the others, they were hovering near the Christmas tree. Logan was closest to Thomas, back to Thomas as he faced everyone else. Janus was hunched over the very bottom of the tree, placing a golden ornament among the gold and silver ornaments near the bottom of the tree.

Thomas frowned, his hands coming to clasp in front of him as his eyes fell on Virgil and Roman.

Virgil was swaying as he sat upon Roman’s shoulders. Reaching up, he hesitated at each little sway to put the purple colored ornament near the top of the very tall tree. 

As a particularly violent sway sent both of them nearly off balance, Thomas nearly bolted forward to catch them, but Logan simply took a step towards them and pushed gently at a specific part of Roman’s back. The gesture was so subtle that Roman didn’t even pause as he laughed, securing Virgil on his shoulders without a glance backwards at Logan.

Even Roman didn’t notice, Thomas had, and he smiled at Logan as he came back to a different spot, but just as far away as the previous spot from the tree.

Something unusually tense in Logan’s back has Thomas’s feet immediately bringing him up beside Logan.

Thomas placed a hand on Logan’s arm once he was close enough. However, Logan quickly began to step to the side, but Thomas’s grip remained, halting Logan as soon as he began to move.

Neither of them said anything, a simple nod passing between them before the simultaneously turned back to watch Virgil and Roman’s antics.

“They are somehow so careful and yet so reckless. I can’t understand them sometimes.”

“Do they know they could’ve just conjured a ladder to do this?”

Turning to Thomas, Logan leveled a single eyebrow at Thomas, his expression still neutral.

“Sure, but then we wouldn’t get to see this… entertaining display.”

A slight upturn of Logan’s lips and a dusting of pick on his cheeks had Thomas looking back to the teetering disaster waiting to happen. Then back at Roman and Virgil. Then back at Logan.

A smile of Thomas’s own blossomed on his face.

Even the message on Logan’s dark blue and black sweater emphasized the moment, showing the periodic table with elements labeled Cu, Ti, E, all highlighted.

But Thomas didn’t address that as Logan subtly moved his hands behind his back, the edge of an object in his hand peeking out for a split second

“What is that in your hand? I see you hiding it.”

Bringing his hands farther away from Thomas with the offending item, Logan’s Adam’s apple bobbed conspicuously before Logan cleared his throat and spoke.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mouth popping open, Thomas’s mouth was open in the ghost of a word before he froze, his face falling as his eyes darted back and forth a bit. Straightening his back, Thomas closed his mouth before placing a subtle, comforting hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose it’s a secret? Well then I won’t spoil it. Wouldn’t want to force your hand,” Thomas lightly tapped his pointer finger to his lips with a small smirk on his face. “I won’t keep you from whatever you’re doing.”

And with that, Thomas gave Logan a wink and stepped over to where Janus was still half bent over the tree.

“Hey Janus.”

Janus glanced up with his usual impassive expression, but the moment he met Thomas’s eyes, Janus’s face immediately melted into the smallest of smiles. The moment didn’t last long, a look from Janus returned by Thomas.

“Ah our creator. My humblest greetings.”

“I’m not your creator Janus. You are as much a part of me as I am in this place.”

“And yet, each of us here are so incredibly different. All thanks to you.”

Thomas’s cheeks heated rapidly, though his level expression suggested he was trying not to acknowledge that fact.

“Whatever.”

Both of them turned as Roman and Virgil began to exclaim, something about going too fast, lost in the flurry of limbs as they once again began to fall, but this time righted themselves completely unaided.

They each took a few moments, muttering words only each other could hear before Roman’s eyes turned to the bottom of the tree and the most incredulous sound imaginable came from his lips.

“Why must you defy everything I planned for this tree Mr. Slick and Grinchy?”

Crouching down, Janus made no effort to reply or react at all at first. He completed the gesture of placing the ornament and standing back up before his eyes even flickered to Roman in the slightest.

“Society is an illusion and so is perfect beauty or aesthetic.”

Roman frowned, huffing as he crossed his arms. 

“I may not understand what exactly that means, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re wrong about that! The ornaments should be evenly distributed across the tree instead of all of those ornaments being at the bottom.”

However, despite the passionate speech, Janus’s expression remained neutral, a yawn that appeared 100% genuine only adding to the message.

“Well, when you finally conjure that ladder, I’ll be happy to place some of these nearer to the top.”

Roman’s gasp this time was devoid of all it’s incredulousness this time, his eyes bugging out as he gently slapped his head with his hand the best he could while holding onto Virgil.

“It’s not often I say this, but… Mr. Humbug, you’re righ-”

“It’s time!” Thomas jumped, turning around to Patton’s head sticking out from the hallway. They made eye contact and Patton jerked his head back in the direction of the hall.

“Hey Thomas, some help with the drinks, Remus and I got the food.”

Rubbing his jaw, Thomas glanced back at Janus and Roman, their quick glances toward each other making Thomas’s breath catch. 

“Sure Pat, I’m coming…”

Sending one last glance back at the trio with an apologetic smile, Thomas turned and walked past Patton back into the kitchen where the steaming mugs of hot cocoa sat for Thomas to bring. Remus already had a platter of pristine Christmas cookies and a full ham and a turkey and- 

Eyes bugging out once again, Thomas’s eyes were locked onto Remus as he went down the hall with the entire contents of the oven carried in his 6 total hands. 

Patton, on the other hand, had only two side dishes in his hands as he passed Thomas. Nodding towards the steaming mugs, Patton stepped back towards the living room.

“Just grab the trays, everything’s lighter here than you would expect, so you won’t have to much to handle.”

Opening his mouth, Thomas’s words died on his lips once again as Patton disappeared around the corner, leaving Thomas to his duty of bringing the drinks.

Thankfully, just as Patton said, the trays were exponentially lighter than they looked with 3-4 mugs on each of them. So Thomas easily picked up and brough the mugs back down the hallway. 

But everything came to a sudden halt when Thomas stepped back into the living room.

He had to have been gone less than a minute, but the whole atmosphere in the living room had drastically shifted from a slight Christmas feel to full blown nostalgia Christmastime feeling. The tree had every inch covered in ornaments now, the fire was roaring somehow more than before and everyone was seated comfortably on the many couches that faced the TV with plates and utensils a plenty.

It took all Thomas’s effort not to drop both those dang platters as his feet almost instantaneously rooted him to the spot as his mouth dropped open at how fast everything had suddenly come together.

“Thomas- snrk- You okay there?” Virgil’s smug voice came from one of the furthest couches, Virgil sitting on the arm of the couch, but slowly sinking down towards the proper place.

Jolting, Thomas abruptly cleared his throat and nodded as his eyes continued to take in the living room, his voice not at all convincing.

“Uh, yes? Uh….no? I think… this is just… wow.”

Each of Sides looked to one another, a similar expression of wide open eyes at how awed Thomas sounded. They had done that. Only Janus managed not to look bothered, but by the way Remus rolled his eyes in Janus’s direction, there was more than meets the eye under the impassive half smile Janus had managed to pull off.

Soon, however, Thomas was stepping forward once again, not yet completely over the sight, but recovered enough that he could mostly properly function again.

Without a word, Thomas handed everyone a drink according to the cups, each of them the sides usual colors with an animal design/theme. 

The last one left on the tray for Thomas was a chaotic blend of all of them, cutesy animals and a rainbow design.

“Oh… I love that. It’s perfect.”

Patton, who was sitting comfortably with Logan on a couch, leaned over the arm of their couch and patted Roman’s arm as best he could on the other couch.

“See, I told you he’d love it.”

And with that, all of them dug in, the hum of conversation washing over Thomas as he got what he wanted from each of the platters.

It was like only an instant had passed when Roman finally bolted up, bouncin on his toes in all his excitement.

“Is everyone done? Because if we are, then it’s time for presents!”

Presents went by just as fast as each of the Sides revealed their presents for each other.

Logan was first with a scrapbook for Patton of all the memories from the preparations, each of them laughing and preparing the day as well as some sneakily hidden shots from the meal. He even took a picture of Patton’s completely awed look, instructing Patton to turn to the last page to see the very picture already in the book. 

It probably took five minutes for Patton to stop borderline choking Logan with a hug, and even more than that for Patton to stop crying happy tears into Logan’s Christmas sweater. 

Patton’s present was for Janus. 

Janus was leaning just slightly away from the present as he opened it, ready for something disappointing, perhaps. But instead a moment of pure joy flashed across Janus’s face as he opened it. Sure, his expression immediately hid that that moment had even existed, but every Side had watched him, so there was no hiding it.

Inside Janus’s present was everything a cold-blooded, snake themed side would want, a snake plushie and onesie as well as a heated and weighted blanket. 

Still, with Janus’s blatant slip, he still schooled his expression as he extracted each from the packaging.

Janus had Virgil.

Thomas and Logan had frowned at the small package Virgil had been handed by Janus, aas did Virgil himself. 

But Virgil was more curious than anything, as even though Janus was one to play tricks, this small package was small enough it was likely not to be one.

What nobody expected was the utter ear-piercing squeal that came from Virgil after a moment of gazing at his unwrapped present.

“How? You found an exclusive version of-”

“I know you love MCR, and found that, as luck would have it, in the recesses of Thomas’s mind. It helps to be a bit more experienced with all things not conscious. I-”

In a surprising move for everyone, Virgil cut Janus’s ramble short with a slamming hug.

There weren’t nearly as many tears as Patton’s reaction to his gift, but if there were a few tears that leaked into Janus’s sweater, Janus made no comment as Virgil finally pulled back, sheeks red as the reality of what he had just done sunk in.

Virgil had presents for both of the twins, a thing of slime that looked like sewage and other fun things for Remus and a set of copic markers for Roman.

Remus was immediate in unveiling his slime and beginning to play with it, but Roman was hesitant. 

“I have plenty of markers, virgil, not that I am ungrateful for them, but what led you to this as my gift.”

Virgil tensed just ever so slightly before pushing a piece of paper in front of Roman.

“Just try them, idiot.”

Roman once again huffed in annoyance.

“Alright, Panic at the Disco.”

Roman tried out each of the colors, but soon found the paper to be too small for testing them out, and eventually, the color ran over each other, but when they did, Roman completely froze.

In all Roman’s time, he had never had markers that actually blended when you layered them. And that’s when it clicked in Roman’s expression, eyes widening like everyone else’s had when they opened their presents.

This time, of all times, Roman instantly apologized, nearly giving the markers back as his increasingly reddening face sunk deeper into his sweater. It wasn’t until Logan announced his own present was next that Roman had the courage to emerge, still rosy cheeked, but less so.

To complete the circle of gifts, the twins had Logan’s present. And they took their time in handing to Logan, as if what was inside was fragile or important.

Logan treated the gift the same, taking great care in unwrapping the gift before staring down at the gift of a very important looking notebook.

Without having to be asked, both of the twins wove a tale of watching Logan struggle to create a good schedule for Thomas, even clashing with Roman himself. But Remus was the one who continued, talking about how he had garnered some information from the non-conscious part of Thomas’s brain on how to tap into it to cement an idea or plan.

The notebook, when written in, would cement whatever idea was in it into Thomas’s mind, bring it to the forefront without completely intruding. It was the perfect thing to help Thomas listen to Logan more.

Thomas should’ve been more outraged that Logan had to have something like this to even be listened to, but his own logic had always been overshadowed by feelings at times. It was the best thing he could do to go over to Logan and hug him when he saw the tension in Logan’s body and the refusal to meet Thomas’s eyes.

The instant Thomas wrapped his arms around Logan, his body stiffened even more before just as quickly completely melting into Thomas completely. Fingers running through Logan’s hair, Thomas whispered out quiet assurances.

“No, don’t you dare feel guilty about not being heard. You shouldn't have to be ‘tempted’ to make me listen ‘against my will.’ You are a part of me that I need to listen to, and I trust you enough to allow this greater power over me. If I didn’t want this, my creativity- creavtivities wouldn’t have made this for you.”

That was enough to stop the slight shivering as Logan pulled back with uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable eyes, wide and awe-filled.

“Really?” Logan’s voice was barely a breath.

“Really.” Thomas echoed, squeezing Logan gently before letting go and sitting back beside him.

Still keeping Logan in the corner of his eye, Thomas turned to Remus and Roman who were still in front of them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Now, each of you check your pockets now,” Both of them snapped in unison as Roman spoke. “You should find something new there.”

With varying levels of excitement and wariness each of them reached into their pockets to produce a jagged piece of something. When the twins were met with blank stare at the reason for these gifts, neither of them faltered.

“Each of you, gather around the coffee table and place your piece down, we have ours as well.”

Eyebrow raised, Thomas obliged, as did the rest of the Sides after. As each of them placed their piece on the table, the idea slowly came into shape, though as always it was Logan’s face to light up first in realization.

“Now each of you arrange your pieces the best you can to create a complete shape, there is only one way these pieces fit together, but we’ll let you figure it out.”

It only took a moment for each of their voices to vy to be heard, only Logan holding his tongue as he had likely already figured it out and a stern but gentle glare from Roman to not ruin it for everyone. Roman did pointedly glance at the notebook he and Remus had just given him, permission to slyly get back at Roman is however he saw fit in what he guided Thomas towards.

Surprisingly, it was Patton who first exclaimed the solution.

“Oh that’s so cute! It’s a star!”

Judging by the grumbles that arose from Janus, he might have been close to that solution himself, but was beaten to the punch by Patton’s exclamation.

“You got it! This our gift to all of you.”

In any case, after that the 7 of them arranged their pieces  so that the star design appeared. Thomas’s pink piece was at the top, with Virgi’s purple and Roman’s red sitting beside it. For now, the star was devoid of orange, but full of the rest of the sides neon yellows, lush greens and two distinct peaceful blues. 

The star was still a 5 pointed star, which made the piece placement a little more complicated, but eventually they were able to press the pieces together. When they did the star flashed brightly before suddenly zooming out of everyone’s grip and alighting on the tree.

Once the star was in its place, snow suddenly began to fall from the ceiling silently. Even Remus and Roman’s mouth fell open as the first flakes settled onto them.

Each of the Sides and Thomas gazed up at least once to try to find where they were coming from, but they just appeared a few inches from the ceiling and fell down to them. 

Even with the mystery, all of them slowly succumbed to the urge to enjoy the indoor snow. Whether it was trying to catch a flake with their tongue or immediately catching as much snow in one place to attempt a snowball, the formality of the gift giving was completely gone and replaced with the unbridle fun of playing in the snow.

“Wait… where… Where did that mistletoe come from? We never put that up.” Virgil pointed to a sprig of mistletoe above where Janus and Remus were gathering snow, Janus gathering most of it while Remus made balls of snow.

Both Janus and Remus looked up in unison, eyeing the sprig before looking at each other.

“I don’t care, come here Jani-bear. I want to get steamy enough that the snow starts melting.”

Even Thomas rolled his eyes at the pet name and the cheesy line, but couldn’t help fawning over Janus’s reaction.

Face turning bright red, it was Janus who took the initiative to pull Remus’s collar and kiss him. Responding in kind after a moment to recover, Remus responded by mouthing into the kiss just as passionately.

A gasp from behind Thomas had him turning to yet another sprig of mistletoe, this time above the four other sides, each of them turning red as they turned their face up to it. 

Surprisingly, Patton was the first to place a quick kiss on Logan’s lips, with Roman just behind him sweeping Virgil into a kiss of his own.

Thomas's chest filled with warmth as he watched his sides kiss each other, their love an extension of his own self love. The sensation filled him outwards from his chest up to his head and down to the tip of his toes.

It wasn’t until he was staggering, though, that it hit him that maybe the warmth wasn’t just love, that the blanket he didn’t exactly remember wrapping around himself was warming him up pleasantly as well.

Eyes dropping, Thomas made it to the couch, lying down to answer the call of his mind, the warm embrace of sleep ever stronger on him.

A familiar voice echoed softly in his head just at the cusp of sleep

“This is our present for you, Thomas, a pleasant dream by our sides enjoying Christmas together.”

The picture of his Sides’ concerned faces hovering over him faded as the pleasant feelings of the night carried him off into proper, joy filled dreams.

Thomas smiled, nuzzling into his pillow, asleep and content.

#sander sides fic #sanders sides #christmas #christmas fic #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #romantic lamp #Romantic Dukeceit #Romantic Demus #kissing

[full-of-roman-angst-trash]

A Prince’s Room

Part 2

Concept by @yeet-ceit

TW: Unsympathetic Sides (Except for Roman), Perfectionism, Self-Doubt, Cursing, Arguing, Injury? (Roman gets slapped). If I missed any, pleased tell me and I will add it.

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1807

Roman wants to be perfect. No, he needs to be perfect. And part of being perfect is being a good friend. Roman loves the other sides. He loves them more than anything in the world. Even more than Disney and musical theater. His friends are the main reason why his still holding on. He doesn’t want to lose them. He can’t lose them. He won’t survive if he does.

So, to make sure he doesn’t he takes notes. He writes down ways to make sure he’s constantly improving. Any bad habits that the others point out or flaws he writes down and tries to fix. 

The lists went on and on. Hung up on the walls of his room to make sure he always remembers. And as time goes on, more and more is added to the list. Every small addition getting him one step closer to perfection.

Remember to keep your voice level normal. Don’t talk too loudly.

Stop being so dramatic, you're taking too much attention away from the others.

Don’t be too confident, it comes off as cocky and no one like someone that’s too cocky.

Don’t rant about your interest for too long it gets annoying and boring.

Don’t be selfish, no one likes a selfish person.

....................

The chart came along a few months later. 

Roman had already been taking notes on how to please his friends however he decided to reorganize his notes into a chart. Each side had their own section containing list of what they liked, disliked, what cheered them up, and what upsets them.

Logan

Likes: Crofters, astrology, coffee, books, teaching, silence, human anatomy, schedules, deadlines, Thomas being productive, debating, constellations, being listened to, law, learning, classical music, poetry, Sherlock.

Dislikes: Being ignored, unnecessary emotions, sweets, dumb people, someone being too loud, childish movies, games, being behind schedule, illogical decisions, jokes, unrealistic dreams.

What makes him happy?: Stargazing, writing, meeting deadlines, winning debates, telling random facts, rapping, his onesie, reading, being left alone, being called cool, teaching.

What upsets him?: Being treated as a joke, being teased, being reminded of his mistakes, making mistakes, being ignored or overlooked, losing a debate, feeling dumb.

Patton

Likes: Cookies, drawing, cure animals, compliments, happy songs, seeing his friends happy, t.v shows, helping others, singing, dancing, playing dress up, stuffed animals, gifts, holidays, baking, sweets.

Dislikes: Screaming, loud noises, getting stuff thrown at him, blood, weapons, violence, seeing his friends injured, sad movies and stories.

What makes him happy?: Cuddles, movie nights, being showered with affection, cookies, drawing, karaoke nights, talking about his emotions, playing games with his friends, helping others, his onesie. 

What upsets him?: Seeing an animal die, seeing people in pain, being forced to grow up, seeing his friends in hurt, not being able to help someone, disappointing someone, letting Thomas down, letting his emotions control him.

Virgil

Likes: Candles, alternative music, spiders, his hoodie, Tim Burton films, My Chemical Romance, headphones, fidget cubes, staying up late, drama shows, bats, knives, collecting pins.  

Dislikes: The ocean, sudden loud noises, cheesy pop music, people that are too optimistic (except for Patton), someone being mean to his friends,

What makes him happy?: Doing makeup, painting his nails, listening to music, Patton’s baking, playing with his pet spider, meditating, watching murder myterious, watching Disney and Tim Burton movies.

What upsets him?: Being put on the spot, being called evil, being treated like an innocent kid, being called a darkside, being called a disorder rejection, talk about serious topics such as suicide and self harm. 

Remus

Likes: Gore, blood, mud, fighting, collecting weapons, deodorant, musicals, inappropriate jokes, Fleischer Studios, pranks, dancing, mythical creatures, things that glow in the dark, random t.v shows, horror movie, slime, candy, octopus, skirts, crop tops.

Dislikes: Cheesy love songs, rules, normal food aside from fast food, birds, learning, shaving, reading, romance movies/shows, backstabbers, lying, shaving cream, showers, losing fights.

What makes him happy?: Dissecting stuff, fighting, pranking others, dancing, singing, coming up with outfit ideas, punching stuff, playing with slime, reenacting horror movies, inappropriate jokes, hanging out in his trash can, being pet, Shrek, eating deodorant, someone doing his makeup.

What upsets him?: Being abandoned or left behind, being told he isn’t good enough, being compared to me, seeing Janus upset, seeing Virgil upset, being told to shave.

Janus

Like: Snakes, philosophy, Greek mythology, sewing, horror movies, mystery books, murder documentaries, self care, sleeping, warm baths, weighted blankets, debating, law.

Dislikes: The cold, when someone takes his hat, dumb comedy movies, eagles, action movies, unnecessary violence or gore, close minded people, liars, sharing secrets, being vulnerable. 

What makes hims happy?: Massages, weighted blankets, cuddling, hanging out with Remus, acting, having debates, seeing Remus and Virgil playfully argue, watching murder mysteries, singing.

What upsets him?: Being called evil, being ignored, seeing Remus or Virgil upset, Thomas not taking care of himself, being replaced, being left behind, people not understanding him, someone making fun of his scales, taking off his gloves.

....................

“Come on pussy! Let’s just march into his room, what’s the worse that could happen?”

“Language!” Patton quickly scolds Remus.

“What if he’s in there and he screams at us for barging in?! What if he gets really mad and chooses to get physical!? What if we see something we don’t want to!? What if he’s asleep and he get mad that we woke him up!? What if-”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupts the panicking side, “Your anxiety is causing you to catastrophize. Please, take a deep breath and try to filter out your cognitive distortion.”

The anxious side nods and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“Now, I would like to add that I personally believe that Remus’ plan isn’t the worst idea ever and is currently the best one we have.” The logical side states.

“Well, while I love to agree with Remus, he is wrong in this instance,” 

Remus smirks widely, “Awe! Thanks Jany~ You’re too generous~”

The deceitful side rolls his eyes, “Let’s just go.”

“Fine,” Virgil stands up, looking rather done with everything.

The rest of the sides stand up as well and begin to make their way to the prince’s room.

Once they make it to his door, Remus immediately just breaks the door down and lets himself in.

“Surprise!”

 They walk in, greeted only by silence.

“He isn’t here?” Patton mumbles to himself.

“Doesn’t look like it. Let’s not go then.”

The other sides nod and start making their way out. Well, everyone except for Logan. 

The logical side instead gets distracted by a paper stabled to the wall. He walks over to it and reads it to himself. Once he’s done reading his looks around the room and notices all the papers on the wall. As well, as the lack of theater and Disney merchandise.

“Wait, doesn't Roman’s room look,” He pauses to search for the right words, “Wrong?”

The other sides stop walking and looks around.

“Now that you mention it,” Remus mumbles, “His room has changed a lot since I last saw it...”

The other start reading through the endless papers of tips to improve himself and advice. 

Suddenly Patton stops in front of a chart titled “Duties”

He slowly goes over it and buy the time he is done he is fuming with rage.

“What the hell!? Guys come look at this!”

The others go over, slightly amused and concerned.

Each of them take turns analyzing the chart. 

Roman had spend his day at the Imagination. After the whole wedding accident, he’s been stuck in a very toxic place and well he thought a small guest might help. So, he left early in the morning and began his guest. He hadn’t meant to stay there for as long as he did but he lost track of time. 

“Kiddo, we have a lot to talk about,” Patton mumbles in a passive aggressive tone.

....................

As the tired side starts approaching his room, he notices that all the either sides are gathered outside his room. Once he’s a bit closer, Virgil is the first to notice him. To his shock though, Virgil rushes to him and slaps him

“Roman, what the fuck!?”

Roman stands there shocked for a few minutes before looking at Patton, expecting to hear him scold Virgil. Instead however, Patton just look away from him.

“ANSWER ME!”

“I-...” Roman bites his lip to hold back the tears in his eyes, “I-I don’t understand... W-what did I do....?”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!?”

The prince-like-side flinches and looks down.

Remus puts a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, "Let me handle this.”

For some reason, Roman thought that Remus would be on his side. He thought that if anyone understood what he was trying to do, it would be his brother. Or that his brother would at least explain what happened and let him tell his part of the story.

So, he looked up with a hopeful expression. 

“Don’t look at me like that. What the fuck is wrong with you!? If you think we were such a hassle then why did you stay friends with us!?”

Any hope that Roman had immediately leaves his body, “I-I... I never said that! Where is this coming?!”

“DON’T BULLSHIT ME, ROMAN!” Remus summons his morning star, “WE SAW THE FUCKING CHART! SO, WHAT!? WE’RE NOTHING MORE THAN “DUTIES” TO YOU!?” 

The usual confident side is now frozen in shock. They weren’t supposed to see that chart. They weren’t supposed to see his room at all. If Roman was being honest, he could understand why they took the chart the wrong way. The name of it wasn’t exactly the best but it was all he could think of while actually making it. Now though, he wished he would have pushed himself to think of a better name.

“N-No! You got it all wrong!” He is now crying, flinching away from his brother, “I was just trying to make you guys happy!”

Remus scoffs and puts his weapon away. He walks away from Roman and returns to Janus’ side.

“Whatever, Roman.”

His knees give out and he falls to the floor in defeat.

“I would greatly appreciate if you keep your distance from Patton and I from now on. If you fail to do so, I can’t exactly guarantee that I will be nice. Goodbye Roman.”

“Fucking pussy.” Remus throws out.

And just like that Logan sinks down with a crying Patton.

“And I thought I was the snake,” Janus adds, looking at him in pure disgust.

Then, they’re gone.

For a few seconds Virgil stares at the broken prince in front of him.

“You really are an idiot.”

He looks away from him and sinks down with a scoff leaving the weeping prince on the floor. 

Alone.

....................

#my writing #unsympathetic light sides #unsympathetic dark sides #unsympathetic virgil #unsympathetic deceit #unsympathetic logan #unsympathetic patton #unsympathetic remus #unsympathetic sides #tw perfectionism #perfectionism tw #tw cursing #cursing tw #tw arguing #arguing tw #tw self doubt #self doubt tw #tw slapping #slapping tw