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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years ago

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Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes.

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door.

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones.

Suffice to say, the twins were very different.

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb.

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle.

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips.

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist.

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression.

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”.

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4”

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!”

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work.

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton.

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen.

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler.

“That’s really good pat-”

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun.

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“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school”

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands.

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building.

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job.

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched.

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded.

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe.

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work”

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will.

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director.

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t look marginally like a cave.

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects.

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before.

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid”

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding.

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep.

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Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was.

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family.

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree.

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day.

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up.

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 years ago

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For the wip game: Bear and Otter (plz tell me it’s School of the Bear I will cry) and We Didn’t Start the Fire. I was tempted to ask after Fruits of the Hunt because it’s a stunning work, but @round--robin beat me to it.

Thank you very much for the tag!! I’ll absolutely play once I’m on my laptop ♥️

You get We Didn't Start the Fire, dear Berry. This fic was inspired by this amazing art on Twitter, and it spiralled outwards into a whole thing. We know that young wolf Witchers spent some of their training at the Temple of Melitele; Geralt's education there included writing and arithmetic. I wanted to do something with that.

The basic premise is that Lambert is the last of his year group. Eskel, seeing how bereft and lonely Lambert is, to the point he isn't even being sarcastic, Eskel agrees to be Lambert's escort to Melitele for the season.

I reasoned that there is no way Nenneke would play host to a bunch of rowdy Witcher boys around her own initiates, and would thus demand the presence of an adult witcher to keep them in order (and maintain their physical training regime).

The other schools send their boys too. Same time of year. There are a bunch of hazing rituals, lots of posturing, pranks. The schools clash because of their different approaches; the noble, uptight Griffins, the laid-back, feisty cats. Lambert will make friends with Aiden and Coën here. Eskel will bed both the Griffin instructor (Remy) and the cat instructor (Cedric), because he's bored and horny. That's about as far as the planning has got.

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The thinly stuffed mattress dipped at Lambert's back and a plate of food appeared at the edge of his blurred vision. "You need to eat somethin'," said a familiar voice, so deep it could've come from the bowels of the mountain.

"Not hungry," Lambert said, his words muffled into his forearms. "Piss off."

Silence followed but Eskel didn't move. His continued presence weighed at Lambert's back, and Lambert couldn't help but listen to the draw of his breath. Eskel acted like an anchor, tugging Lambert out of his own mind whether he liked it or not, and Lambert didn't like that one fucking bit. "If you're here to tell me that it's just the way things are. That he died for a greater cause, I'll–"

"Would it help?"

"What?"

"Would it help if I said those things? Do you want me to say 'em so you can throw a punch? Want me to say 'em 'cause you know half of it's true, and the other half's bullshit?"

Lambert's mouth opened and closed, unable to muster a response as he stared into Eskel's stern gaze. "Then why the fuck are you here?" he croaked out eventually. Eskel wasn't doing what the others had; telling him to snap out of it, or grow up, or sort his head out so they could get to filling it with their 'greater good' and 'destiny' bullcrap.

Eskel scratched at the smattering of stubble on his cheek, his gaze sliding away. "Figured you'd need somethin' to eat." He sighed. "I know what's goin' through your head. Same things were goin' through mine when Geralt–when they took him," Eskel waved vaguely at the wall, "but truth is… doing that would be spittin' on his grave."

"That's fuckin' different, Geralt came back. Voltehre, he's–he's gone. For nothing. For–for this, for–" Lambert suddenly felt suffocated by the medallion around his neck and tore the chain over his head. Eskel watched it sail through the air and land beneath the window ledge. He didn't comment as Lambert's breath hitched and he hid his face against his knees, but rose slowly from the mattress.

"Yeah. It's enough to make you want to jack it all in, but," Eskel's voice hitched as he bent down to pick up Lambert's medallion, "gotta ask yourself. What would Voltehre have done if your places were swapped?"

"What?"

"If you'd died, and he'd lived." Eskel returned to the bed and dropped down at Lambert's side again, reaching out only to steady the plate of bread and cured meat between them. "What would he have done?"

Lambert stared down at the plate even after Eskel's hand had moved away. "Dunno. Cried, probably. He was a baby like that."

Eskel had the wherewithal not to point out the tears staining Lambert's cheeks, but hummed to prompt him on.

"And he'd have to do all his potions work by himself, which he'd piss and moan about. Then–but what does it matter what he would do? He's not here. I am, and–"

"You're right. He didn't get to choose what he would do. 'Cause he's gone. But you, you get to choose what you do from here. Ain't nobody gonna stop you starving yourself to death, or throwin' yourself off a peak. A new set of boys will come trundlin' up that trail come autumn. But you'd be throwin' away an opportunity he never got a crack at."

Lambert glared into space as he sorted through his cherished memories of Voltehre. Every single one felt precious. He had always taken their friendship for granted, especially when they had both survived the Grasses. It had felt like they were invincible.

Eskel continued, turning Lambert's medallion over in his palm. "You're right. This doesn't mean anythin'. Not on its own. It's the Witcher that wears it that gives it meaning. Geralt made himself a code, you know. Something to live by."

"What about you?"

Eskel smiled, a slightly forlorn twist of the lips. "Me? I do my job, get paid and try to be palatable enough that the good folk of the Continent won't put me down before my time."

#witcher lambert #witcher eskel #tw3 #wip game #writing

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remyscarmichael · 2 years ago

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⋙ did you see ROSEMARY 'REMY' CARMICHAEL at that rager last night? i think they major in PSYCHOLOGY as a SOPHOMORE. from what i hear they’re FREE-SPIRITED & INTELLIGENT , but they can be pretty LAZY too, depending on who you ask. there was a rumor going around last semester that SHE IS THE BEST PERSON ON CAMPUS TO GET PSYCHEDELICS FROM, but it seems way too wild to be true- maybe i’ll get to know UCSB’s resident BURNOUT better & find out.

Remy Carmichael

FC: olivia scott welch

Age: 21

Birthday: march 15th

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: bisexual

Major: psychology

Personality:

✔ GENEROUS,OPEN-MINDED, LAID-BACK

✖ LAZY, SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, CARELESS

History:

TW; Religious Trauma, Drug Use

Childhood: Remy was born to an extremely large and affluent family, the second youngest child in a family of 9. She was the child of an extremely prominent Evangelical Pastor and her family was known for being put together and straight-laced but it was obvious from a young age that Remy didn’t fit in. She never had the same draw to the religion that her parents had, absolutely dreaded going to church every week and never wanted to read the BIble. It didn’t help that when she wasn’t getting in trouble in Sunday School, she was getting in trouble at her real school too, finding herself in the principals office seemingly once a week. Despite just needing a little proper guidance, Remy’s parents absolutely overcorrected, becoming far more strict and controlling over her life the more she got into trouble. She was forbidden from hanging out with friends that didn’t go to the church, her TV and computer were taken away and she was forced to have long nightly meetings with her father about the Bible and her role in the family, none of which she ever really applied. Things only got worse for her when her father decided to dip his toes into politics, her families already extremely straight-laced front being pushed to an extreme. While things had been bad before, they got even worse during this period with almost evey minute of Remy’s life being micromanaged by her parents, an older sibling or some random press handler. Despite all of this though, her father still lost a narrow election, which Remy hoped would return things to some normalcy but that never happened. After the election and despite losing, her father’s already large church grew even larger. Teen Years: Going into her first year of high school her father once again ran for Congress, this time though they sent her across the country to boarding school, feeling that it will be easier to keep her from disrupting things that way. Since then she has only been back home twice, never choosing to come back for the holidays or any other occasions, much happier loving her siblings from a distance. After getting away from her parents Remy really began to broaden her interests, learning to play bass, to skate and meeting new friends, finally able to do things on her own terms and become her own person, happier than she’d ever been back home with her family and truly feeling like for the first time she was somehwere where she really was meant to be. She did a lot of experimenting during this time, trying all the things she never would have been able to under her parents watchful eye. Recent Events: During the Fall Semester of last year Remy was found with drugs in her room and was expelled. She ended up missing the rest of her fall semester and spring semester as a result. Her hearing was the first time in almost a year she’d seen her parents in person and hasn’t seen them again since them. Luckily she was able to find an apartment off campus and spent the year there, just skating by until she was eligible for re-admission. She was thankful at the very least that her family still provided money for her but eventually wanted to become completely financially independent from them if she could.

Present:

Remy is back on campus and classes now, having appealed her expulsion succesfully. Though she’s a year behind in her studies now , she’s just glad to be back on campus with her friends.

While she doesn’t exactly have the best grades, she does very well when she applies herself and its a subject she’s passionate about. She loves Psychology and Pharmacology, obsessed with finding out how outside stimuli affects the brain. She is pretty much known around campus as someone that can easily get any kind of psychedelics anyone needs, most of the time simply just sharing them with people rather than selling them.

She can be found at most social functions, almost always wanting to hang out and be around people. She is etremely friendly and will do almost anything to help anyone, even to her own detriment at times.

Connections:

Best Friends - The people that she is closest to in the world. These are probably the only people that know the full extent of her background and who her family is.

Friends - People that she has met over time and become close to. She loves making new friends and meeting new people.

Exes/Past Hook-Ups - After hitting college Remy did a lot of hooking up to try and find what she liked. These could be one time hook-ups, small flings or even full on relationships.

Roommates - Despite not having to pay her own rent, Remy rents out the two extra rooms in her apartment extremely cheaply for anyone that needs a place to stay.

Anything Else - I’m absolutely always down to brainstorm different kinds of connections and things, I love figuring out weird little ways people could know each other so this is always an option!

#this is so late and i'm so trash but please love her!! <3 #i'll be expanding on this over time!

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

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Hello, I loved your fics on Vivienne. So I want to request a Vivienne fic where MC is pregnant, and she with the Poppy is having dinner in a restaurant. But, she got served with spoiled food, so she got food poisoning. Make it a bit angsty and end it in fluff as possible. Thank you!!

“So, whatcha say, MC? You’ve been craving shrimp anyway, so this is as good of a chance as any!” Jett stares at you expectantly, chocolate eyes practically sparkling.

“Yeah MC, you didn’t go to Dinner Club yesterday, so you absolutely need to come today!” Zoe follows, and her smile is as sweet as a midnight drink.

You roll your eyes, laughing.

“Eager, huh?”

“Not our fault Vivienne’s been hogging you all week,” Leon says, dimly amused.

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll go today.”

The cheer than erupts draws in Vivienne, Remy, and eventually Nikolai, all three of them curious. After a brief explanation — and Vivienne’s feline satisfaction at monopolizing your attention — the Poppy agrees to go a restaurant Zoe had found recently.

All in all, the restaurant has a calm ambience, filled with little decorations here and there: a fish tank by the corner, a myriad of colors you had stared at in awe for a good minute; several paintings adorning the walls, charming and simple; the light warm and relaxing.

The food? The food ended up being a different story all together, though you discover that later.

Both Remy and you had started feeling weird as soon as you got back to the Poppy’s hideout. Remy had shrugged it off as exhaustion, and you had done the same at first, waddling towards the bedroom, ready to nap for a while.

Vivienne had gone with you, not willing to admit it to the others but eager for a cuddle. She had noticed how clammy your skin felt, how strangely warm it was — even under the covers. Her first instinct had been to hover a hand over your bump, as if wanting to check on the baby first, but then she had moved to whisper your name against your skin, gently shaking you awake.

It had taken a worryingly amount of time for the world to focus once you opened your eyes, and the first thing you had noticed was the startling pain in the back of your mind, that seemed to multiply once you had acknowledged it until your head was throbbing.

“I think I have a headache,” you mumble, miserable, and Vivienne’s body slumped against yours in a second of pure relief.

“For a second I feared…” She trails off. You can feel her shaking her head, as if trying to shrug off some wayward thought. “Never mind. Is there anything specific you’d like for dinner? I’ll bring you an aspirin while I’m at it.”

“Oh, I—I’m not really hungry.”

“No?” Vivienne’s voice is filled with disbelief. “Not even a craving? Nothing?”

You laugh, teasing at first. “You make it sound like I’m always hangry. No, I’m fine for now.”

You can tell her worry returns in the tell-tale way she falls silent; in the way she tenses again, fingers curling around your shoulder, squeezing briefly. “You’ve been hangry all month.”

“Pff, not all month, just—”

It’s a dull sensation, still faraway, but your stomach feels off. You can feel the contents swirling angrily, like a wave about to crash. The image stays with you for a second, and you frown, because what is this sensation, why are you thinking about water, hadn’t the morning sickness stopped already? Why…

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“What?” Vivienne whispers, panic rising in both of your chests like a rocket.

“I—the food—something must have been spoiled, I—I think I’ll—the nausea is not strong yet, we should go to a…”

She is already moving before you can finish, moving to the door like a madwoman to yell out the news, before returning to you and helping you up. Her hand presses reassuringly at your lower back, her expression frozen by worry and fear.

Jett announces Remy is also feeling nauseated, and the Poppy splits like they had planned it beforehand, like they weren’t just improvising. Leon drives Vivienne, Remy and you to the nearest hospital, while Nikolai and Jett go back to the restaurant to go full Karen against them. Zoe stays behind to make sure all records from the hospital are wiped afterwards.

The car makes the nausea worse. Remy slumps against his seat and groans, while you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths, occasionally rubbing your temple and wishing for the headache to disappear. Vivienne alternates between checking on you and Remy, though he insists that she only watches you and the baby.

And the baby, God, the baby. You rest a hand on your bump and hope against hope that the baby doesn’t kick, that they will be okay. There are a few moments where you feel your stomach is about to empty its contents, the desperation you feel churning inside you like an icy blade and making everything worse.

Vivienne puts her hand over yours. You don’t need to open your eyes to see hers deep with worry, shining like a shattered jewel.

Two blocks away. One.

It only ends up being okay because Vivienne had noticed as quickly as she did. If you had waited until you got more symptoms… well. That’s a thought you’d rather put away.

As expected, Vivienne is ready for anything you ask, be it more water or more cuddles. She’s patient and attentive, her relief palpable in the way she sighs against your bump and gives it a loving, feather-soft kiss.

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #lovestruck fanfiction #vivienne tang #queen of thieves #qot vivienne #lovestruck vivienne #queen of thieves vivienne #vivienne x mc #soft angst #woeful wednesday

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

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Some Fun Teacher AU tibits me and my friends came up with on call:

First, I think I have solid surnames I wanna use so we have (btw you are free to go with your favourites if you write for this au! I’ll still love them!):

Mr. Roman Prince - Gym and Drama (mostly coaches basketball, runs fencing club)

Mx. Virgil Blake - Music (former English teacher, had to change subjects due to stress, uses he/they)

Mr. Patton Foster - Woodwork and Home Economics (prefers sewing to cooking but he’s trying)

Mr. Logan Baird - English (is originally from Scotland because fight me)

Mr. Janus Dolon - History and Modern Studies (will absolutely destroy you in a debate)

Mr. Remus Duke - Art (he and Roman’s parents divorced and he took his mother’s name, originally went to college to be a crime scene investigator)

Mr. Remy Moreno - IT (has probably been to jail for )

Prof. Emile Picani - Science (mostly Biology, helps out with the other sciences too)

And now for more info! Most of this was born of a joke about Logan having a tattoo ehe.. [tw: drinking mention!]

- One day, Roman lets it slip to his drama class that Logan has a tattoo from he and Virgil’s band days. The class go WILD with this information.

- They immediately go to Logan to ask to see it but he denies it; “who lied to you” “I don’t have tattoos, they’re unnecesary and unprofessional��, etc. Basically he deflects it entirely.

- The students start to think Roman’s joking with them. Until sports day.

- Logan gets picked for the teacher’s basketball game and Roman rigs it for him to be on team skins. He’s reluctant but Logan hauls off his shirt and on his back is a full colour unicorn tattoo.

- Now the focus is on Virgil because they’re convinced he has to have one. Like he has lots of piercings and stuff so why not a tattoo? - And Virgil tries to get Roman to call off the hoard of students asking about it, but Roman thinks its so funny, he doesn’t ever tell the students that Virgil’s actually super anxious about needles.

- The tattoo talk reaches Janus (who has a half face tattoo of scales that he uses to hide his skin condition) and Remus (who has whole sleeves of tattoos under the beat up leather jacket he usually wears), and Janus is happy to add, “Oh, didn’t you know? Mr Foster has a tattoo too” - No one believes him, until Remus backs him up, “I tattoo’d him myself in college!!” and NOW they’re convinced.

- So they ask Patton and he’s like “oh they’re just teasing you, I’m too nervous to get tattoos!” and the students assume Remus was joking with them. But then one day Patton’s changing out of his cardigan and he’s wearing a tank top.

- And on his left shoulder is a tiny tattoo of a rat. Just a simple line tattoo. This is how Patton finds out he got tattoo’d by Remus while they were both drunk after finals. Patton keeps it anyway because rats are lil squishy babies and he loves it secretly. - Remy has tattoos of constellations on his wrists that match his freckles, and Picani doesn’t have tattoos but he likes to draw on himself with sharpies when he’s anxious. - Principal Sanders comes to visit the music department often, usually talking to Virgil and checking in, but almost everyone knows he’s only there to sneakily find ways to talk to another music teacher, Mr Flores.

- Virgil has told Thomas just to suck it up and go speak to him, but Thomas just tells Virgil he should take his own advice and Virgil can’t really say anything in response.

- Eventually, the whole staff work together to get them on a date. Turns out Nico’s also really into Thomas too.

- Joan and Remy get coffee every morning, they’ve tried to get Virgil to join them, but Virgil’s still bitter about the time Remy invited everyone to his sleepover in high school EXCEPT Virgil.

- The reason was super petty, Remy was mad Virgil beat him in the talent contest that year.

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Thats what I have for now but yeah, I’m getting super into this AU!!

I FORGOT THE TAGLIST I’M SO SORRY @thankgodyoudonthaveamustache @give-it-up-for-the-purp-man @agender-in-a-van @mx-sugar-pink @jadespeedstar17 @amintyworld @queerly-fluid-fan @im-a-dragon-cawcaw @zaythesnek @thatguycalledvin @kawaiikiwi984 @baka-monarch @captainmylifeisfandoms @ice-flower-angel @just-some-spoopy-shit @the-goddess-of-annoying @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @koalas-in-coffee @december-rains @grayson-22 @khadij-al-kubra @itsadastraperaspera @sourshadowling @perfectly-practical @count-woe-laf @private-snippers @ewatsonia @nekai-aori @logan-pie @logan-nisa @yokemybaroque

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the-volume-is-astronomical · 4 years ago

Text

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

Knight's Mistake

A/N: y'all some people actually cared so i decided to share this chapter which is def shorter but hope y'all enjoy and remember to stay alert there could be clues as to what happens next anywhere (also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

First | Previous| Next

words: 1601

summary: Roman’s in the tower and he is now alone with his new knight in shinning armor pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, pretentious character, violence (near the end), talking down to someone, blatant sexism

(let me know if there's any other)

“Your majesty…” Trent opened the door for Roman, he didn't react at all. He kept looking out the carriage window. Ruth asked Trent to give them a minute and he nodded looking complacent but, she saw from the corner of her eye his smile drop and his eyes roll...she’d have to look into that later, for now…

”Roman, I truly do hate to bring you back to reality but-” Roman seemed to sober up at her voice “I know, I know.” They both got out of the carriage, Trent at the ready with Roman’s possessions. Ruth and Roman gave each other a goodbye. “I'll be back in the morning. I hope by that time with Remy..” Roman chuckled

“And I swear if I see you reading that damn book-” “No! I promise I'll read something else this time” Roman knew Ruth was just joking “You are such a bad liar- I thought I taught you better!” Their little moment was rudely interrupted by Trent’s over exaggerated coughing.

Roman turned around almost forgetting Trent was there. “Sorry for the interruption, Your majes-” Roman interrupts Trent “No, please, call me Roman” The knight gave a tight nod and gestured towards the tower which Roman purposely ignored. Roman gave Ruth a hug, afterwards Trent helped her to the carriage.

Roman watched his only way out leave with his nurse. Trent was getting tired of being ignored. He grabbed Roman’s arm, not forcefully, the Prince was his only way of proving to the King how much potential he had. He had heard how ingenious the heir could be, he had outwitted several knight before, it was obvious the royal hadn't done it to embarrass the knights but, the other trainees always made fun of those who were fooled by the young prince.

Trent did not intend to be one of them.

Roman quickly twisted his hand off “his” knight’s grasp, he just started walking forward without saying another word, not even looking to where he was going. From an outsider perspective it might look as if he had memorized the path to such a degree he could get to his destination with his eyes closed, they would be right.

After arriving at the top of the tower, he went towards the nearest shelf and took out the only book with any color that wasn't brown or gray, he sat by the window but instead of rereading his favorite book, Trent spoke up trying to make conversation.

“So, I heard Hugo had been your knight before I” dropping Romans possessions as he spoke. Roman looked up pretty confused, he wasn't used to talkative Knights, he usually had to fight stories out of Hugo.

“Well yes, there was a time where Hugo was planning to retire but all the knights that applied to be my babysitters, to upgrade rank of course, were very easily fooled” Trent ignored almost everything he had said just waiting out until it was his turn to talk “Yeah, yeah.. Did you know Hugo actually taught me for a while?”

Trent obviously expected curiosity, which he got. “Really? Hugo has never spoken of you, I've asked him about his life for so long, I could write a whole book about his life.” Trent looked a little annoyed at that “He did indeed teach me for a while not for long though, it was back in Meadowfort…” making an obvious pause expecting Roman to ask for more details about Hugo’s home, he was a very private person

… What he did not expect on the other hand was Roman to start monologuing about what Hugo had told him about the place.

“Oh, Meadowfort!” He jumped up starting to look through a trunk, until he pulled out a drawing “Gosh, I remember Hugo telling me so much about his home” Trent didn't really know what to say, he looked at the drawing that Roman had laid on the desk, and it was Meadowfort.

He only had a foggy memory of what the place looked like, last time he had been there he was a child. “Hugo went back a few years ago, he got an artist to make me this painting of his hometown. I had completely forgotten about it till you mentioned it!” Roman rambled admiring the drawing.

Trent, still trying to impress Roman, spoke up. “Yes! That's um... his street, his house was…” he trailed off looking around the drawing, actively trying to remember which was Hugo’s house, before his memory could be refreshed the Royal next to him beat him to it, “...I believe it was this one, Hugo always told me what a perfect view he got from his bedroom window.” He was very hesitant as he felt he was interrupting his new knight too much.

Trent agreed with that sentiment. He was incredibly annoyed with the prince. Trent tried to impress him by other means but, Roman proved to know a lot about Hugo’s life. So he headed towards the big shelf and picked up one of the philosophy books he recognized.

“Ah! ‘Philosophy Without A Goal’, an amazing piece of literature... though, I certainly don't agree with all it’s ideals” he again expected a reaction of awe towards his knowledge on a type of book mostly used to teach royalty but he got none of it

“Oh yeah, I think I remember a bit of that book. I wasn't really interested in the topic and my professor was very considerate, he always included some adventure or fantasy book when it was time to practice reading, after my parents found out he got fired...always felt bad about that.” Roman spoke while eyeing the red book that sat abandoned by the window.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After several attempts of trying to impress the prince with the amount of knowledge he had but, being out done by the monarch, Trent gave up. “It’s getting late, i'm going to head to bed...where exactly am I going to sleep?” Roman stood up and quickly headed for the door “There's a room we passed while heading up-” Roman, hand on the door handle, was going to show Trent where he was going to sleep but, the knight panicked thinking this might be the prince trying to trick him.

“No!” He ran towards the door and slammed it, startling Roman “I can find it myself- thank you though, your majesty” Roman was very confused and still a little shocked at the outburst “Um...sure, if you have any questions about anything let me know, i’ve spent half my life here.” there was something bitter tracing his voice, not that Trent noticed nor cared so, he excused himself.

Trent actually found the room pretty easily, he was unsure how he had missed it before. He was unbelievably annoyed once he realized he'd have to be in the tower with the royal for an undisclosed amount of time, why couldn't the prince shut his mouth from time to time, on the other hand, he could handle it as long as he could cut a few extra steps and effort to actually get to a position of power.

Though life isn't always ideal.

(In this case, he definitely had it coming)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roman woke up to raised voices, in his half-asleep self he couldn't make out what they were saying but he did recognize Ruth’s voice and how much anger she laced her words with.

He stood from his bed concerned for his nurse and who might be on the other end of her venom, she only really had patience for those she cared about. He hurriedly put a robe on and headed out his room. He found Trent and Ruth arguing, his nurse was absolutely fuming, and in a lack of better words “ready to kill a bitch”.

As Roman finally realized they were arguing, he tried to listen as to what they were fighting about. “The King gave me direct orders to not let anyone who wasn't of importance in, that obviously doesn't include a random servant bringing the Prince some tea. Trent emphasized on the word King, as if to prove he was somehow above Ruth.

“Look hun, I get it you think you’re hot stuff because ‘the king chose you to babysit the prince and that's going to help your career’ or whatever, just let me in to see how my baby is doing...ok?” Ruth sounded tired but Roman could hear the murderous edge to her tone.

“Did they not teach you to not to talk that way towards a man?” Trent apparently heard the tone she was obviously trying to hide and he also didn't have a will to live, Roman was about to say something but, Trent spoke before he could.

“Just leave the food and head back, you sure as hell aren't strong enough to get by me.” Roman genuinely thought Ruth was going to go off on Trent and go on a screaming match. However, he did not expect his nurse to, in a blink of an eye, have Trent on the floor, one of her hands on his back and her other hand extending Trent’s right arm while putting a foot on his left arm, basically having this trained knight in an armlock.

Roman was confused and impressed but, mostly too tired to analyze what was happening in front of him so, when a random purple haired knight showed up holding a piece of paper and made eye contact with him, looking extremely concerned and confused, he just shrugged and yawned as if, his nurse didn’t have the his assigned knight in an armlock.

taglist:

@meowthefluffy

#roman sanders #ts roman #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #sanders sides patton #ts virgil #prinxiety fic #prinxiety #roman angst

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

it was always you (falling for me) - Chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, Remy Rating: Teen & up (for swearing) Relationships: Prinxiety, Moceit, and mentioned QPR Intrulogical (eventually this will develop into Intrulosleep!) Warnings: Language; Remus being Remus; Shakespeare fans will probably hate my interpretation(s) of the plays I reference here, if the English major friend I showed this to is anything to go by, and I’m very sorry about that 😂 Word Count: 8340

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: In a world where you and your soulmate swap dreams once a month, seven young adults enter the same college as freshmen. Each of them is wondering when they'll find their soulmate and what that will mean for them.

Notes: Happy Holidays @sanders-sides-fics !! I was your Secret Santa for @sanderssidesgiftxchange !! (Sorry this post is up so late today!) I’ve done my best to combine all 3 of your wishes for this story into a Prinxiety soulmates AU with mutual pining. The complete story will be 12 chapters; I’ll be uploading hopefully a minimum of 2 chapters a week, and the first 3 should be up in the next 24 hours. I also have a google doc with the entire plot of the fic in bullet point format; if you’d like access to it so you can see the whole story right now, since it’s a story for you, send me a DM! If you’d rather not see the plot summary and instead watch the fully-written story unfold as it goes, that’s fine too. I hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 1

“Sorry I’m late, calculus was a—you’re not Remus.” Virgil stared at the boy, who was sitting at the library table Virgil always met Remus at.

The weird thing was that he looked a lot like Remus. Same prominent nose, same rich sparkling brown eyes and brown skin, but a smaller build; where Remus was gangly and full of sharp angles, this boy was compact and stocky, looking both softer and more muscular than Remus. His cheeks were rounder and softer than Remus’s, and his mouth was softer too—Virgil was almost sure the vivid pink color of his lips must come from lipstick. His hair was the same loose brown curls as Remus’s, but his curls were tidier and shorter than Remus’s, without the dyed streak that Remus had. He was cleanshaven, too, with an outfit much more jock-y than Remus would wear.

“I’m Roman. Remus is my brother,” the boy said, and Virgil instantly felt like an idiot. Right. Remus had a twin. They knew that. Remus talked about him sometimes. Virgil just hadn’t expected to meet him like this.

They hadn’t expected him to be cute.

“Oh.” Virgil stared at Roman for a moment, holding their backpack half-on, half-off, unsure of whether they should take a seat or not. “Why are you here?”

Roman frowned, a soft little pout. “I’m waiting for Remus, he’s late.” He crossed his arms, and Virgil did their best not to stare at his biceps—listen, it wasn’t their fault the dude was wearing that red tank top; it was practically designed to draw attention to how muscular his arms were.

“Yeah, no shit he’s late. But like. Why are you waiting for him?” It was only midway through the third week of the quarter, but Remus and Virgil had already formed a habit of meeting up at this table by the library’s indoor cafe every Tuesday and Thursday to do homework together; they each had a free hour between classes, and it was in a convenient location, and they helped to keep each other on task. Roman? Roman was not a part of this equation. And Virgil didn’t appreciate him showing up with no warning and throwing the normal order of operations off.

“He borrowed my calculator last week and I need it back today, he said to meet him here.” Roman hadn’t uncrossed his arms. “Who are you?”

“I’m Virgil. Remus is my roommate.” Virgil decided they might as well sit at this point, so they slid their backpack onto the worn wooden bench opposite Roman and sat beside it, pulling out their Psychology reading.

“Ohh.” Roman slowly uncrossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table, propping his chin on his hands. “He didn’t say anyone else would be here.”

“Sounds like him,” Virgil commented. “We do homework here. He must not have thought to mention it.”

Roman grinned, quick and bright. “That makes sense, he is a dumbass sometimes.”

“He really is,” Virgil agreed with a small chuckle.

There was a beat of awkward silence; Roman was eyeing Virgil curiously. Virgil did their best to ignore it as they pulled out their notes. They knew perfectly well how androgynous they looked; it was on purpose. Didn’t make it less annoying when people stared.

“Hey, by the way, what are your pronouns?” Roman asked.

Well. That was a lot better than “are you a boy or a girl?” Virgil had to admit, they were pleasantly surprised. “He/they/ze,” Virgil said.

Roman nodded. “Mine are he/him. Ze like ze/hir, or xe/xem, or something else?”

Virgil blinked. They really hadn’t expected that. “Ze/hir,” they said, a little less brusque.

“Cool.” Roman nodded again. “Are you a freshman too?”

“Yeah. I’m your twin’s roommate, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” That little splash of metaphorical cold water didn’t seem to dim the interest on Roman’s face. “What’s your major?”

“Psychology. I’m planning to build my own concentration focusing on gender and sexuality.”

“That sounds cool,” Roman enthused. “I’m a Theatre major!”

Somehow, Virgil wasn’t surprised.

“That’s neat,” they said politely, opening the Psychology textbook to the reading for this week.

Roman nodded eagerly, curls bouncing; he then reached up to pat them back into place. “I’m really really liking it so far—we’re actually using Romeo and Juliet in one class I’m in to practice running lines, it’s so romantic and adorable!”

Virgil looked up from their Psych textbook. They normally didn't have strong opinions when it came to Shakespeare, but in their high school English class sophomore year, they’d gotten into an unspoken competition with the annoying boy who sat next to them to see who could get the better grade. They’d won, of course, and in the process they’d done a lot of thinking about Romeo and Juliet. To hear Roman describing the play as romantic? Worse, adorable? Those were fighting words, in Virgil’s opinion. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Roman looked confused, blinking at Virgil with wide brown eyes.

“Did you just call Romeo and Juliet ‘adorable and romantic’?” Virgil demanded, gearing up for a fight. Roman had better not bring up the soulmate argument; people always tended to focus on the fact that Romeo and Juliet had a soulbond, in Virgil’s experience. They had plenty of counterarguments for that, but they were sick of hearing about it. Just because Romeo and Juliet were soulmates didn’t make the story better.

“Well, yeah!” Roman responded. “I mean, look how much they risked for true love!” He paused and winced. “Admittedly, it didn’t pay off, but that was due to some honest mistakes! They’re the original star-crossed lovers, for goodness’ sake!”

Virgil rolled their eyes. “Dude, they were teenagers, it lasted for like three days, and six people died. Also, Romeo was a total womanizer who was just as infatuated with Rosaline hours before he met Juliet. Nothing about that screams ‘romantic’ to me.”

Roman huffed, looking scandalized. “Listen, just because there are darker thematic elements doesn’t mean you have to focus on the bad stuff! I mean, look at Romeo and Juliet themselves! Their families hated each other, but they chose to focus on their true love, and let that overcome all their problems!”

Virgil shook their head. “Okay, but like, can we circle back to the part where they had just met that same evening? They didn’t have time to build something stable or healthy enough to be called ‘true love.’”

“They are literal soulmates, okay?” Roman’s voice rose, together with Virgil’s spirits. He’d brought up the soulbond, and they were ready to decimate whatever argument he was going to base on that. “Just because they died before they could confirm they were actually soulmates doesn’t mean—”

“But that’s the thing! They died not knowing whether or not they were soulmates, that’s how brand-new their relationship was! There was nothing solid there!” Virgil pressed.

“But Juliet choosing to take a chance on someone who might be her soulmate, instead of letting her father pressure her into a marriage with someone she knew wasn’t? That’s amazing! Her monologue about that choice is one of the best moments in the entire play!” Roman waved his hands in the air as he spoke, punctuating his sentences with emphatic gestures.

“I’m just saying, it’s not exactly what comes to mind when someone says ‘adorable and romantic,’” Virgil insisted. “And besides, even if Juliet was asserting her autonomy or whatever—”

“‘Or whatever,’ ze says! ‘Or whatever,’ you know I’m right, you just don’t want to admit it!”

“—Romeo was still kind of a shitbag fuckboy. I mean, he didn’t know who his soulmate was, and he didn’t really seem to care. He tried to get with multiple women without thinking about their soulbond at all.”

“He was in love! Can you blame him? And he got it right in the end. Stop focusing on Rosaline, she was mainly just a plot device to set up the way he meets Juliet!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Wow, cherry-picking your arguments, much? You can’t just shove Rosaline to the side and discount her just because her existence contradicts your interpretation.”

Roman crossed his arms. “Uh, I can and I will, watch me. And Romeo was loads better for Juliet than Paris would have been! He literally was her soulmate, which you keep discounting, so the cherry-picking argument goes both ways here, I feel like.” Roman’s little pouty frown was back.

Virgil sighed in exasperation. “Listen!” They slammed their hands down on the table. “There’s a difference between finding your soulmate, being widowed, and seeking to remarry after the fact, like Paris did, and marrying someone without knowing or caring enough to even try to confirm if they’re your soulmate, like Romeo did. We can condemn Paris and Juliet’s betrothal from a modern standpoint, but the fact remains that women of Shakespeare’s time were often denied the opportunity to look for their soulmate. They were expected to marry for status and money, and just have an affair if they ever did find their soulmate. Paris would have provided Juliet with a home and everything she needed, and since he’d once been married to his soulmate and knew what it was like, he likely would have been very understanding if she and Romeo ever got close enough to confirm they were soulmates. Juliet has to choose between an unpleasant but ultimately very liveable compromise, and throwing everything away for literally a hair-thin chance. And she dies because of her choice. It’s stupid.” Virgil sat back and crossed their arms.

“But she was still right!” Roman insisted. “Romeo was her soulmate, it’s textually confirmed by the parallel scenes where Romeo talks about his souldream to Mercutio and Juliet talks about hers to the Nurse, and we as the audience can see that they were sharing each other’s dreams! The point is that Juliet is choosing between a life of security without love, and risking everything for love, and that making that choice is worth it no matter the outcome because she was happy with Romeo!” Roman jumped to his feet and began pacing back and forth along the length of the table. “The tragic ending is a scathing social commentary examining how the system was stacked against her to the point where even once she found her soulmate, human error could still steal everything away from her, and ultimately arguing that that system is flawed and making an argument in favor of prioritizing soulmate marriages over political ones!”

“The tragic ending is commentary about how stupid it was to throw away her security in a system that wouldn’t take care of her otherwise. You can have ideals all you want, but at the end of the day, you still live within a society and have to work within its confines,” Virgil countered. “That comes up again in the subplot about Mercutio’s death emphasizing his inability to marry his soulmate Benvolio, because the system also prioritized heterosexual marriage over any other form of relationship.” Virgil regretted the words as soon as they said them, realizing that Roman could easily use that subplot in favor of his own point. They could have made their argument without bringing that in. Now he had more fuel—if he realized it.

Roman, who was still pacing, froze, the annoyance on his face melting into an expression of sheer delight. “Wait, you like the ‘Mercutio and Benvolio as soulmates’ interpretation, too?” he asked, the argument seemingly forgotten.

Virgil snorted, hiding their relief that he hadn’t noticed the easy win they’d accidentally handed him. “Dude, it’s barely an interpretation, it’s basically right there in the text.”

“Scholars have tried to erase it for centuries, though!” Roman was bouncing on his feet, flapping his hands back and forth in excitement; he seemed absolutely thrilled that Virgil was agreeing with him on this point.

Over Roman’s shoulder, Virgil caught sight of Remus, all the way on the opposite side of the library; he was walking purposefully towards the table, but when he met their eyes, he grinned, waved, and made an exaggerated shushing motion. Virgil looked back to Roman, who clearly hadn’t noticed Remus. They saw no reason to give Remus away and spoil his fun.

“Homophobia doesn’t take away from the textual canon.” Virgil shrugged.

“Oh, that’s a really good way of phrasing that, actually.” Roman looked impressed. “I might need to steal that, there’s this one guy in my class that I keep getting into arguments with.”

“Sure, feel free. Get his ass.” Normally Virgil might take issue with someone wanting to use their ideas, but to annoy a homophobe, all was fair game as far as they were concerned.

“Thank you, I’ll do my best.” Roman beamed.

Remus slowed to a tiptoe as they neared the table, snuck up right behind Roman, and bopped the top of Roman’s head with the flat of his palm. “Boo!”

Roman shrieked and flailed his arms wildly, leaping to his feet; Remus, laughing uproariously, had already ducked into a well-practiced crouch, and Roman’s hands sailed right over his head.

“Hi, Ro,” he said, standing up and easily sliding onto the bench at the table where Roman had just been sitting. “Hi Virge!”

“You’re late, asshat,” Virgil said amiably.

“Yeah, sorry, I had to stay after class and ask my professor something, and the guy who got to him before me took forever. I could practically have decomposed my entire corpse by the time it was my turn.”

“Gross!” Roman commented brightly, hugging Remus from behind and resting his chin on top of Remus’s head. “Also, I hate you.”

“Yeah, I can really tell that from your tone of voice,” Remus said dryly, but he reached up and patted Roman’s face, nearly poking him in the eye. “I see you two are getting along well.”

“No!” Roman whined. “Virgil’s mean!”

“Awwww, you poor thing.” Remus made an overexaggerated face of sympathy. “Were they winning?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said with a chuckle.

“No!” Roman protested at the same time, stamping his foot.

“Gotcha,” Remus said, nodding sagely.

“Romeo and Juliet were soulmates, Remus!” Roman said insistently, grabbing Remus’s sleeve.

Remus nodded, grinning. “Yeah. And they died. With lots of blood and stabbing. Also poison, which is sick. Do you want my fake blood recipe for your class? It’s awesome, I have a gushy version and a viscous version.”

“Ew! No!” Roman batted at Remus’s arm, sitting on the bench beside him. “What is wrong with you?”

“A lot, thank you for asking!” Remus beamed. “Shouldn’t you be totally into my fake blood, though? Since you’re so big on soulmates?”

“Why would I possibly—” Roman began in disgust.

“Because Logan helped me with the formula for the viscous one!” Remus interrupted before Roman could even finish the question. “Cute soulmate bonding activities, am I right?”

Virgil had met Remus’s queerplatonic partner a couple of times, and from what they knew of him, yeah, that checked out.

“Are you kidding?” Roman demanded.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Remus responded. “No, I’m serious. It was fantastic, he helped me figure out the exact ratio of cornstarch to make it look the most realistic, and then I got to pose like a dead body with it all over me and he took pictures! Wanna see?” He was already reaching for his phone.

“No! No, that’s fine, I believe you!” Roman tried to grab the phone, but only succeeded in knocking it out of Remus’s hands onto the floor.

Remus leaned down to pick it up, snickering; as he straightened back up, Virgil was struck by how, even seated, he was still significantly taller than Roman.

“Can I have my calculator back, though?” Roman asked.

“Oh, right.” Remus dug into his backpack, scattering loose papers across the table.

Roman picked a couple of food wrappers out of the pile and set them to one side, making a face.

“Here it is!” Remus said triumphantly, pulling out the calculator and holding it aloft. “I didn’t even lose the case, see?”

“Great job, I’m very proud of you.” Roman accepted the calculator and slid it into his own backpack, then gathered up the food wrappers off the table. “You shouldn’t leave these in there with your homework.”

“Oh, I know, I just forget sometimes. I throw ’em away eventually.” Remus seemed unconcerned.

“That’s disgusting,” Roman said, getting up and walking to the trash can a couple of tables away to dispose of them.

“Thank you!” Remus said, though whether he was referring to Roman throwing away the trash or just to being called “disgusting” was unclear. He pulled out a notebook, flipped it open, and began running his finger slowly down the page, mouthing to himself.

Roman shook his head and sighed as he returned to the table. “I should probably go now. Let you study, or whatever.” He picked up his backpack and slung it across his shoulders. “See you later, Rem. Nice to meet you, Virgil, even if you have totally wrong opinions about Shakespeare.”

“Nice to meet you too, even if you’re a sore loser,” Virgil responded easily.

“I did not lose!” Roman insisted.

“Whatever.” Virgil snickered. “Catch you later.”

“Bye,” Remus added, not looking up from his notes.

Roman nodded and walked off. Virgil watched him go. So that was Remus’s brother; not really what they’d expected. He had made some good points about Romeo and Juliet, not that Virgil would admit it; he clearly knew his stuff.

“Are you checking him out?” Remus demanded, following Virgil’s gaze to Roman, who was by now nearly out of the library.

“What? No!” Virgil spluttered, grabbing a pencil from the mess Remus had spread across the table and throwing it at his head. “He’s just. Got a lot of muscles. That’s all. Shut up!” they added when Remus looked like he was about to begin laughing.

“Iiiinteresting,” Remus commented with an evil chuckle. Virgil threw a crumpled paper at him. He batted it aside, eyeing them up and down. “You’re not his usual type, but I could see him being into your, like, dark and brooding thing. Plus you have the whole gender fuckery with your presentation going on, and that’s just objectively hot. Like, I’m gay as shit and I can still tell you’re super hot,” he added matter-of-factly.

“Cool. Good thing I’m not interested in him, so it’s irrelevant, so you can shut up now.” Face burning, Virgil pulled their Psych textbook closer. It wasn’t like Roman was his soulmate or anything, anyway, so it didn’t matter if he happened to be—objectively—very cute, or if the way he’d gotten so passionate about the argument was—theoretically—kind of attractive. Virgil had long since decided they had too much anxiety to date people without knowing first if they were soulmates or not. And you didn’t just ask people about their souldreams, that was personal; Virgil only knew one person they’d really be comfortable talking about souldreams with.

“Sure, you’re ‘not interested,’” Remus said, but he seemed to be letting it go, resuming his perusal of his notes.

Virgil had fully relaxed and was halfway through the reading when Remus reached over and poked them.

“What?”

“I could totally tell you what times he goes to the gym to work out, so you could watch.” Remus waggled his eyebrows.

Virgil threw another paper at him as he dissolved into giggles. “Shut up!”

***

A week or so later, Virgil topped the slight hill that led to hir dorm, pace quickening as the building finally came into sight. Ze’d had a long day and was ready to collapse on hir bed and drown hir thoughts in hir Sudoku app for a while. Ze pulled out hir key as ze approached the door to the building.

“Virgil!” a voice called.

Virgil looked up; Roman was waving wildly at hir as he got up from one of the benches outside the building and jogged over, and—wow, okay, he was wearing a crop top, and his arms were not the only muscular thing about him.

“Hi,” Virgil said uncertainly, trying hard to keep their eyes on his face and not… anywhere else. Ze hadn’t thought people just casually went around having visible abs in real life.

“Can you let me in? Remus asked me to come over and help with an essay, but he hasn’t answered my texts yet, and the door’s locked.”

“Sure,” Virgil said, suppressing a sigh; there went peace and quiet for the next hour, in all likelihood.

“How have your classes been going?” Roman asked, snapping his fingers repetitively, as they walked up the stairs together—Remus and Virgil’s dorm was on the third floor.

“Fine,” Virgil said shortly.

“Cool! Mine are mostly awesome, but I’m in this biology class and I hate it, it’s so gross. Remus would totally love it, though. It’s a stupid GE and I have to take it but I can’t stand it. There are so many terrible textures I have to touch. And Remus and I aren’t even identical so I can’t make him take the final for me.” He pouted as he said this last part, as if it were the worst injustice known to humanity. “What’s the point of having a twin if you aren’t identical and can’t help each other cheat on homework?”

That startled a laugh out of Virgil. “Damn, you’re really not a fan of that class, huh?”

Roman shook his head emphatically, then smoothed his curls back into place before resuming his rhythmic finger-snapping. “Not one bit.” He brightened. “I love my English class, though! The professor is so engaging and the assignments are lots of fun!”

Virgil blinked at him. “I see why Remus wanted your help with an essay.” Actually enjoying English classes? Who did that?

Roman nodded. “I’m very good at essays,” he said seriously.

Virgil stopped at the door to hir dorm and unlocked it. “Remus, please collect your noisy brother.”

“I was making friendly conversation!” Roman spluttered.

“Sounds noisy to me,” Remus said, tipping back in his chair so he could look at them upside-down.

“Dude.” Virgil crossed the room speedily and pushed him forward so his chair stood on all four legs again. “Don’t fall and kill yourself, please.”

“I’ll be fine,” Remus said, waving his hand, but he didn’t tip his chair backwards again.

Virgil looked back at Roman, who was still snapping his fingers quietly, almost as if he wasn’t thinking about it at all. “Why are you doing that?” ze asked.

“What?” Roman startled and looked over at them.

“Snapping your fingers like that,” Virgil clarified.

Remus tensed just slightly; out of the corner of hir eye, Virgil could see him watching hir like a hawk. Which was a weird reaction, to say the least. Had hir tone been off, or something?

“Ohh,” Roman said, the confusion on his face clearing up at Virgil’s clarification. He hesitated for a beat. “It’s a stim, I’m autistic.”

“Ah,” Virgil said. “Cool.” Ze shrugged, trying very hard not to acknowledge the way Remus was still watching hir.

Roman paused. “Is it bothering you?” he asked uncertainly. “I can stop—”

“No, dude, you’re all good,” Virgil said quickly. The noise wasn’t bothering hir, only hir curiosity had been. “I just wondered why. I do that when I’m having trouble remembering something,” ze added, smiling a little.

Roman relaxed and grinned back. “Oh, I do that too sometimes!” he said, sounding delighted. “Not now, but I know what you mean.”

Remus finally relaxed and stopped staring at Virgil. Virgil hoped that meant ze hadn’t said anything egrigiously terrible.

Remus sighed loudly and dramatically, gesturing at his laptop. “Ro, c’mere, look at this bullshit.”

Roman came up beside Virgil and looked over Remus’s shoulder at his computer screen. “‘Write a four- to seven-page essay explaining what role your assigned historical event played in shaping the course of American politics. Cite at least three assigned sources,’” he read aloud. “Okay, what’s your assigned historical event?”

“The gold rush,” Remus said plaintively, sprawling forward face-first across his desk.

“Cool, what do you have so far?” Roman perched on the corner of the desk.

“Absolutely nothing,” Remus groaned into a textbook.

“Really?” Roman raised an eyebrow. “Why am I here, then?”

Remus sighed and lifted his head. “I have some notes?”

Roman seemed to teeter between annoyance and optimism for a second before visibly taking a breath and straightening his shoulders. “Good! Let’s start there. I’m not writing this for you, you know,” he added warningly.

“Yeah, I know.” Remus wrinkled his nose, digging out a notebook and flipping through it.

Virgil climbed up onto hir bunk and pulled out hir headphones as the brothers settled in; Remus seemed to be, more or less, actually working, while Roman kept up a steady stream of chatter that Virgil couldn’t quite block out. Ze did hir level best anyway, and managed to lose hirself in Sudoku games for maybe half an hour before Roman’s voice rose. Virgil nudged one ear free, lifting hir head.

“No, you have to put another comma,” Roman was saying emphatically, pointing at Remus’s computer screen.

“How come?” Remus demanded, overly whiny.

“I—you gotta,” Roman said; when Remus just gave him a look, he relented enough to add, “Because we stan the Oxford Comma in this household, okay? Eat a protein bar, you’re getting grumpy.”

As Remus reached for the bowl of protein bars on the corner of his desk, Virgil couldn’t hold back a snicker. “I think the Oxford Comma is stupid,” ze put in, purely for the purpose of messing with Roman; ze was actually more inclined in favor of it, but it was one of those things where it was fun to bug those who had strong opinions about it.

Roman gasped like Virgil had personally murdered his hopes and dreams in cold blood, clutching his heart. “I’m sorry, what?” he demanded.

Virgil shrugged, dangling hir legs over the end of hir bunk bed. “Dude, you heard me.” Ze turned up hir music a notch to tune out the tirade Roman was no doubt about to unleash and opened the Messages app to text Janus.

Virgil: hey, u busy?

“I’m sorry, you cannot just say something like that like it’s no big deal,” Roman began, and Virgil turned up the music another notch, looking at Roman very seriously and nodding along like ze was listening. Ze caught bits and snippets: “makes no sense—if I said—you wouldn’t know if—you need the Oxford Comma to—or you could end up looking like an accessory to murder!”

“Good,” Virgil and Remus said in unison.

Roman floundered for a moment. “No! Not good! Murder is bad!” he finally snapped, voice going high with distress.

“Murder is sexy,” Remus said, sounding like he was barely holding back laughter.

“No!” Roman insisted, just as Virgil’s phone lit up with a reply from Janus.

Janus: Nah, not busy. What’s up?

Virgil: can i come over?

Janus: PLEASE do

Janus: My day has been a disaster

Virgil: omw

Virgil shut off hir phone and pocketed it, glancing up at Roman, who seemed to be finishing up another tirade.

“—so you see, it makes a huge difference!”

Virgil nodded very seriously, climbing down the ladder. “Okay, interesting,” ze said. “But you forgot one crucial point.”

“What’s that?” Roman demanded, hands on his hips.

“I don’t care.” Virgil smirked. “See you around.” Virgil gave him a two-fingered salute, picking up hir backpack as Roman gaped indignantly and Remus burst into cackles of amusement.

“Oh, you two are rich—we’ve got to hang out together more often, watching you bicker is the most fun I’ve had all day,” Virgil heard Remus saying to Roman as ze closed the door behind hir.

Virgil walked down the hall to Janus’s room, pulled out the key Janus had copied for hir—which, yeah, was definitely illegal, but it wasn’t like either of them cared—and let hirself in. “Hey,” ze said.

“Hi,” Janus said. He was lying flat on his back on the floor, his arms sprawled outward like he was T-posing. His thin legs, in black skinny jeans, were propped up vertically against his bed, making him look almost like he was sitting upside-down. A hat was plopped dramatically over his face. “I hate everything,” he announced.

“Mood. What happened?” Virgil plopped down on the floor next to Janus, leaning against the bed so that ze was facing him.

“The professor in one of my classes assigned partners for a group project today,” Janus began.

“Oh, gross,” Virgil said amiably.

“No, no.” Janus made a “wait” motion, raising his hand to hold up one long finger before dropping his arm to the floor again. “It gets worse.”

“Oh? Yikes.”

“Yeah. So my group partner and I are talking about the project, right? And we exchange contact information.” Janus propped himself up on one elbow and took the hat off his face. “And I fucking know him.”

“Yeah?” Virgil wasn’t sure where this was going.

“We went to middle school together.” Janus pronounced it like a sentence of doom.

“Okay?” Virgil still wasn’t seeing what was so terrible about this. Admittedly, ze hadn’t gone to the same middle school as Janus and hadn’t met him until high school, so ze wouldn’t know. “Does he, like, have blackmail material on you, or something?” ze inquired jokingly.

Janus’s eyes widened, and he stared into space for a second. “Fuck. He totally does. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“...I’m sorry, what? What kind of stuff were you getting up to in middle school?” Virgil tried very hard not to laugh. “Because like, I’ve got to tell you, freshman you was a total dork and not really blackmail-worthy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Janus said fondly, swatting at Virgil’s knee. “No, but like, seriously. I was an asshole in middle school.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Fair. But like, I was such an asshole. Going through my edgy phase and my depressed phase at once, and super emotionally constipated.”

Virgil made an exaggerated face of shock. “Sorry, those were phases? I thought that was just your entire identity as a person.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, does the lifelong emo have something to say?”

“Wow, okay.” Virgil chuckled slightly. “I get it, I don’t have room to talk, and you were a special asshole. Go on.”

Janus sighed dramatically, letting his head drop back onto the floor, turning the hat over and over in his hands. “So like, there was this one kid in middle school who was just, like, sunshine and rainbows 24/7, right? He’s called Patton. He was super nice to everyone. And he seemed really happy all the time. I was jealous, I think, so I was just a total asshole to him every chance I got. I think I even tripped him in the hall once.”

“No,” Virgil said, beginning to see where this was going. “And this dude—”

“Uh-huh,” Janus said with an overdramatic moan, draping the hat back over his face. “It’s the same guy. I didn’t even know he went here!”

Virgil, to be quite honest, wasn’t totally sure how to respond, but Janus was someone it was always fine to be quiet around, so ze just waited.

“Like, the worst part is it was literally entirely my fault,” Janus went on. “He never did anything. Sure, I told myself he did at the time, but like, looking back, it was all me. Maybe I would have gotten my act together and apologized eventually, but, you know.” He waved in Virgil’s direction. “I moved away in eighth grade and figured I was never going to see him again, and I don’t think I properly stopped being an asshole to everyone I knew until I met you.”

“Oh, right, you met me and stopped being an asshole to everyone you knew so you could focus on just being an asshole to me? Yeah, I remember that,” Virgil teased lightly.

“Shut up.” Janus scooted closer so that he could lean against Virgil’s legs. “I feel really bad about it, is all. I literally had no reason for being so awful to him.”

“Yikes,” was all Virgil could think to say.

“Yeah,” Janus said miserably.

“Does he realize it’s you?” Virgil asked after a moment.

“Sorry, how many people named ‘Janus Aspinwall’ do you know?” Janus snarked, pulling the hat off his face again. “Yes, he obviously recognized me. The smile fell right off his face and everything.”

“Yikes,” Virgil repeated.

“Yeah,” Janus agreed, smushing his face against Virgil’s shin in despair. “So I guess I’m never leaving my dorm again, basically, and I just have to die in a hole here.”

“Was it that bad?”

Janus looked up. “No, actually. That’s the worst part. He was super nice about it. Like, I apologized, obviously—”

“Did you?”

“Yeah! I told him I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have been!”

“Did the words ‘I’m sorry,’ or anything to that effect, ever cross your lips?” Virgil pushed. Ze knew hir best friend.

“Fuck,” Janus said after a pause.

“Right.” Virgil sighed. “Telling him you shouldn’t have been an asshole is a good step, though,” ze added encouragingly.

“I guess.” Janus shrugged with one shoulder. “He was really nice about it, like I said. He said he got it, or something. Which is total bullshit, I bet he’d cry if he stepped on an ant, there’s no way he ‘gets’ having been the worst twelve year old on the planet.”

Virgil had a realization. “Jan.”

“And like, it was super awkward for a few minutes, but he kept making these puns and they weren’t even good but there were so many of them that I started laughing eventually, and he acted like we were fine and okay and normal after that and we started focusing just on the project but there’s no way he doesn’t secretly hate me, fuck, I’d just openly hate me in his place—”

“Jan!”

“—and like, he got me to make some puns back, and he acted like he liked them, and he was so nice and acted like I was just a regular person and not some cheap stereotypical middle school bully—”

“Janus!”

“What?”

“You think he’s cute, right?”

“What?” Janus stared, uncomprehending, at Virgil.

“You think he’s cute,” Virgil repeated. Ze waited for the ball to drop, counting down in hir head. Three… two…

Janus’s eyes went huge. “Fuck,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Virgil reached up and patted Janus’s knee consolingly where it rested against the bedframe.

“You asshole! Why’d you have to make me realize it?” Janus demanded. “How am I supposed to act normal around him now?”

“I mean, based off listening to you talk about him for the last—” Virgil made a show of checking hir watch “—ten minutes, I’d bet good money you already weren’t acting normal around him. But you know, to each their own.”

Janus scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “He’s really cute, Virgil,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure. And it sounds like he’s taking your sort-of-apology better than most people would, so you have nothing to worry about, right?”

“Wrong,” Janus muttered vindictively, but he swung his legs down to the ground and hoisted himself up to sit next to Virgil and rest his head on hir shoulder. “Thanks, or whatever,” he added after a moment.

Virgil reached up and patted his cheek. “Course, Janus,” ze said matter-of-factly.

Honestly, Virgil kind of felt like it was a pity ze and Janus weren’t soulmates. Especially since meeting Remus’s partner Logan and learning soulmates didn’t have to be romantic. Romance with Janus? Disgusting. It would never work. They’d tried once in ninth grade, because everyone kept assuming they were together, and it had been a relief to break up after two and a half days of sheer awkwardness. Virgil had no desire to repeat that. But being soulmates with your best friend? Hacking the soulmate system and not having to worry about being right for someone you didn’t even know yet? That sounded pretty sweet.

They weren’t soulmates, of course. They were close enough that it wasn’t nosy or weird to talk about their souldreams, and so Virgil knew that their souldream nights weren’t aligned, and they definitely weren’t getting each other’s dreams. Far from it.

But it would make things so much less scary to just be soulmates with your best friend and not have to worry about dating. All the ups and downs that came with romance. The chance to mess it up or be less than someone wanted. Risking falling for someone only to find out you weren’t soulmates after all. You didn’t have to worry about any of that with friends—it was less complicated.

Well. Ze and Janus had managed to make even friendship super complicated. But the Fight was past them. Nowadays friendship with Janus was as easy as breathing—it was just a part of Virgil. The awful eight months of the Fight aside, Janus had always been there for Virgil, and ze for him. They’d both been the first ones each of them had ever come out to and always had each other’s back. Janus had helped Virgil pick hir name. He was the only person Virgil came close to trusting unconditionally. Going through all the work of building that strong a relationship again, with another, entirely different person? That sounded exhausting, and there was no way Virgil would get lucky enough to not mess it up twice.

Plus, it wasn’t like Virgil was even that good at friendship in general—Janus was the first person who’d stuck around for longer than a year or two. If ze couldn’t even make friends right, how on earth was ze supposed to navigate a relationship with a soulmate, who was supposed to be forever? It would be so simple if one solid friendship was enough and Virgil never had to be enough for anyone else.

Never had to risk letting hir soulmate down.

Because Virgil kind of felt like the universe had probably messed up with hir when hir soulbond developed. Ze’d been sixteen by the time ze started having souldreams—not unheard of, but still very late. And from what Virgil could glean from hir soulmate’s dreams, ze was kind of the last person hir soulmate would want. There was no way ze was right for this person.

Sure, Virgil hadn’t heard of anyone being rejected by their soulmate… ever, actually, but there had to be a first time for everything, right? And when it came to “messed up people who probably didn’t deserve soulmates,” Virgil didn’t really have a problem believing ze might be top of the list. Even after all Janus’s lectures about self-loathing being bad.

So Virgil tried, really ze did, not to think about hir soulmate too much. Best not to get hir hopes up. But in spite of hirself, Virgil had a running list in hir head of things ze knew about hir soulmate.

They liked Disney a lot, first and foremost—Virgil’s souldreams were always rife with Disney characters, and souldreams were a peek into what your soulmate’s normal dreams were like.

(Virgil always winced and tried not to think too hard about that, because, well. The regular nightmares ze had weren’t something ze’d wish on anyone else. Just one more thing to turn off hir soulmate before ze even met them.)

Their dreams usually had complex storylines to them—Virgil wasn’t sure what that said about them, maybe that they had a vivid imagination? Regardless, it was always interesting.

(Ze did their best to write down some of the stories in those dreams, to remember them better. Just because they were interesting. Not for sappy reasons, or anything.)

Virgil was also nearly certain hir soulmate wasn’t cis, which… was a bigger relief than Virgil cared to admit, to be honest. At least out of all the reasons Virgil could think of for hir soulmate to reject hir, being genderfluid probably wasn’t one.

Virgil’s souldreams were also frequented by faces that felt familiar, faces that were likely those of hir soulmate’s family or friends, but faces that Virgil had never seen in hir life. Faces that would one day be the key to locating hir soulmate.

(Virgil hadn’t had any souldreams yet in the few weeks since ze’d arrived at college. Ze kind of wondered if maybe hir soulmate was starting college too, if they were making new friends whose faces might make it into Virgil’s souldreams.)

Virgil’s soulmate seemed to either have bright, colorful, happy dreams, or else dreams about failing, about crushing insecurity that finally proved right.

(Virgil worried about hir soulmate sometimes, especially after those dreams.)

Virgil thought about hir soulmate more than ze cared to admit to anyone, even Janus.

Would it be Virgil’s anxiety that turned them off? The nearly all-black wardrobe, so far removed from hir soulmate’s Disney taste? Would it be Virgil’s dark taste in music? Hir crabbiness and sarcasm? The fact that for years now, ze’d been unwittingly sending nightmares to hir soulmate? The way that, no matter how everyone else reassured Virgil time and time again, Virgil was sure that something about hirself would be too much, not enough, too wrong for hir soulmate?

Would it be hir fear of rejection that ultimately doomed the relationship, a self-fulfilling prophecy before ze even gave hir soulmate a chance?

Virgil was kind of terrified of finding hir soulmate, if ze was honest with hirself.

But that was a problem for Future Virgil. Now Virgil was here, sitting on the floor of Janus’s dorm, and Janus was curled up beside hir after panicking to hir over a cute boy and his puns.

Janus, still leaning on Virgil’s shoulder, reached up and tugged the long ends of Virgil’s undercut to cover his face like a curtain. “Much as I’m inclined to believe you wanted to come over solely to listen to me gay panic—panic. Pan-ic, get it, because I’m panromantic? Oh, god, his puns are infecting me. Anyway, was there any other reason you asked to come over?”

“What, am I not allowed to just hang out with you?” Virgil cracked a grin that ze didn’t quite feel, dragging hirself the rest of the way out of hir gloomy thoughts.

“You are. And you do.” Janus gave hir a shrewd look. “But when you do, you don’t ask if it’s okay to come over first. You only ask first if you want support.”

“Right, okay.” Virgil had to admit Janus’s reasoning was sound. “Remus’s brother was over and he’s super loud,” ze explained.

“Ah, the famous brother. What’s he like?”

“Loud.”

“You already said that. What else?”

“Loud.”

Virgil could practically feel Janus rolling his eyes. “This is highly educational.”

“Yeah, okay,” Virgil relented. “He has a lot of opinions about everything. He’s a theatre major and he’s super proud of it. He’s fit as hell and just has to wear these fucking sleeveless shirts that show it off—Jan, he was wearing a crop top, I don’t want to stare at some opinionated asshole’s abs all day.”

“Then don’t,” Janus suggested, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Sounds allo, can’t relate.”

“Shut up, I am not attracted to him!”

“I’m sure,” Janus said, the amusement in his voice growing into much more than a hint. When Virgil glared at him, he shrugged and waved it away. “Sorry. Go on.”

“But yeah, he’s like this weird hybrid of jock and theatre kid. I picked a fight with him about the Oxford Comma to annoy him.”

“Always a worthy endeavor. Sorry you had to put up with that.” Janus dug in his pocket and pulled out a pair of tangled earbuds. “Want to listen to Bright Eyes?”

“Oh, you know it.” The tension in hir shoulders starting to melt away, Virgil accepted the earbuds to unpick with glee as Janus began pulling up the artist on Spotify.

***

Virgil sighed, putting down his pencil and looking up. “What do you want?”

“Wow, rude much?” Roman, standing before him in yet another mostly-red outfit that showcased way too many of his muscles, put his hands on his hips. “I only wanted to know if this seat is free.”

“If I say no, will you believe me?” Virgil tried.

Roman pursed his lips. “Not after you phrased it like that, no.” He plopped into the comfy library chair beside Virgil, setting his backpack down on the low coffee table in front of it.

Virgil allowed himself to hope that maybe, maybe, this time, Roman would let him study in peace and quiet—

“How are midterms going?”

There it was.

“Fine,” Virgil said in a low voice. The first floor of the library wasn’t really expected to be quiet, but maybe Roman didn’t know that.

“That’s cool,” Roman said, his voice at a normal volume. “Mine are mostly going alright, except for Bio, of course, but it was a given that Bio would be terrible. Are yours mostly projects or tests?”

“Tests,” Virgil replied.

“Mine are a good mix of both! In my theatre class we actually get to just do a monologue that’s at least a minute long, we’re spacing them out across a few weeks. Mine is this Friday, I’m really excited!”

“Cool,” Virgil said, when Roman paused expectantly.

Roman pouted. “Why don’t you ever want to talk to me?”

“Why do you always insist on talking to me?” Virgil countered.

Roman’s shoulders drew inwards ever so slightly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes and a startled, hurt expression landing on his face. He stared at Virgil with slightly parted lips for a beat. “Do you—not want me to talk to you?” he asked, shrinking into himself.

Virgil’s heart gave an unexpected, painful little twist at how quickly all of Roman’s self-confidence had vanished, like a popped balloon. “I—uh—n-no,” he managed to stammer out after a pause. “I don’t mind, I guess.”

Roman searched his face, evaluating Virgil didn’t know what, before relaxing slightly. “Okay,” he said, and just like that the bright attitude was back, like it had never been gone in the first place, only now it left Virgil wondering just how real it was. “Are you an introvert, then, and that’s why you never want to talk? I bet you’re an introvert.”

“Dude, yeah. Like, have you seen me? Duh.” Virgil gestured vaguely at himself. “Also I’m an asshole.”

“Well, now you’re just being mean. Stop it,” Roman demanded playfully.

“It’s just to myself, who cares?” Janus cared, Virgil’s brain treacherously reminded him. But Janus was his best friend, he didn’t count. Nobody else cared, anyway, so the point still stood.

“I care!” Roman protested. “Nobody talks about my friends like that.”

Something about the easy way he said it made Virgil’s heart do a funny little flip in his chest. Harsh and quick, to distract from how flustered he suddenly felt, he snapped, “Dude, we are not friends.”

“Okay, maybe not yet. Nobody talks about my brother’s friends like that, either, so it still stands.” Roman beamed at him.

Virgil was having trouble coming up with cutting arguments on a stomach that was suddenly squirming with a weirdly okay feeling of lightness and softness. “Whatever,” he managed gruffly after a minute. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Roman tipped his head to one side. “What, why I want to talk to you even though you’re always so grumpy?”

“Yeah. That one.”

“Well, sometimes I’m bored. Sometimes you’re not that grumpy.” Roman ticked them off on his fingers. “Also we argue a lot, if you haven't noticed, and it’s kind of fun sometimes, and I need to win.”

Virgil couldn’t help a chuckle, sitting a little more upright in the soft red chair. “Is that so? I told you you’re a sore loser.”

“Am not! I just know I’m right!”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, pretty boy. What’s it going to be this time?”

Roman paused for about half a second. “We’re reading Macbeth in my theatre class,” he said, an odd note to his voice that Virgil dismissed.

“Oh, hell yes. Love that one.” Virgil rested his chin on his hand studiously. What angle would make Roman the most mad? Probably dissing on soulmates. “I mean, an examination of how soulbonds can become toxic? That’s rare, even today.” Okay, so that interpretation was a stretch at best—all the murder didn’t really have anything to do with Macbeth and Lady Macbeth’s soulbond—but he was pretty sure it would get Roman yammering on for hours.

As predicted, Roman’s mouth made a round little o of indignation, and he held up both palms in a stop motion. “Okay, hold up, are you not going to acknowledge that he was cursed by the witches? Of course nothing in his life was going to go right after that!”

Virgil snorted. “Curse who? All I see are some friendly old ladies with a sick aesthetic doing their best to emulate cryptids, as we all should.” He was perfectly aware that this was a ridiculous argument, but he was pretty sure Roman’s argument wasn’t all that solid either, and anyway he didn’t really care at this point so long as it got some sort of entertaining reaction out of Roman.

Roman blinked at him in confusion for a solid moment. “...Wouldn’t they just… be cryptids, though?” he said tentatively.

“Eh. Semantics.” Virgil waved his hand with a grin, allowing himself to fully slip into the fun of the argument, which lasted for a solid forty minutes before Virgil had to leave for his next class.

He didn’t realize until he was nearly asleep later that night that he’d unthinkingly called Roman “pretty boy.” The thought startled him fully alert all in an instant. Had he—had he really—said that?

Yeah. He definitely had. To Roman’s face.

He’d meant it, too.

Fuck.

68 notes · View notes

anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago

Text

Writing Therapy

Summary: Remus got into poetry after searching his soulmates name online. He got into a writing therapy group by accident but the therapist leading it quickly got him registered as part of it. Virgil at least got properly referred to the group

Authors note: I have no clue what group therapy is like, and especially not writing therapy since I’ve never heard of it. This is how I hope it might be done only

/\/\

Remus didn't give a lot of thoughts to soulmates or the name on his wrist. There were far more interesting things to do, like mixing dangerous chemicals and testing out gas masks from yesteryear when he knew how to recreate them.

One thing he did give however was poetry. The day he'd received the name, he'd looked it up online, more out of curiosity for name origins than anything else and learnt about the Roman poet, Virgil. So he learnt poetry in between learning all the slow to kill injuries humanity could inflict or accidentally receive.

His favourite poetry group though was the group therapy with words sessions he'd stumbled into one week and decided to stick around in. Remus had basically heard someone describing dying with wonderfully rhyming and descriptive words and decided they couldn't make him leave. Surprisingly they hadn't even tried to, as soon as he mentioned wanting to travel by sitting on the windscreen of a car he'd basically had the leader signing him up and calling his doctors to inform them of the treatment. When Roman had signed them up for a Doctor's surgery was beyond his memory but it was useful that time at least.

/Virgil gets referred again\

Honestly, Virgil cared less about the name on his wrist and more about the millionth type of therapy Dr Picani was suggesting might help him work past his fears over what could happen each day. That didn't stop his dismissal of looking for Remus from also being a concern in their talk therapy sessions occasionally, but at least Virgil had heard all the comparisons to separated soulmates that cartoons had to offer now. He'd even enjoyed some of the shows.

He'd enjoyed art therapy, and had a breakdown during a therapy that involved acting, specifically play acting a few of the scenes that he was scared of happening in order to find ways he could deal with them. Writing just seemed like it would follow one of those, either get him writing things far too personal and deep for him to ever share, especially in a group therapy session, or just be painting without the chance to use purples and blacks currently.

The real reluctance was surrounding meeting a group of new people all over again and Virgil dreaded it enough he waited, stayed outside of the hall the meeting was in. He knew being deliberately late to his first session was probably a bad idea, but facing the awkward introductions, people trying to make small talk or whatever before it began was worse.

Eventually though he did have to go in, after watching someone in a leather jacket and sunglasses stand for a while talking before someone in a green monstrosity of an outfit leapt into the circle, notebook in hand. There really were no other words to describe the outfit. It was too torn to shreds to be called clothes, while it definitely looked like a one piece, the ruffles and belt could easily disguise it being two. The fabric covering their legs seemed to at one be fully joined like a skirt but also separate to individual legs in their leap.

While they took the attention Virgil had the best chance of sneaking into the circle unnoticed, listening to the reciting that was happening absently while finding an empty seat.

And so I fall, encaptured, enraptured,

Consumed by the darkness,

Tangled in the forces arms,

And suffocated by its weight.

All the time the person had been reading their work they'd been moving, lurching out or pulling their limbs close based on the lines, but once finished they stood straight, bouncing in place as he grinned around at the group. “I'm Remus and this week I've been completely entranced by the black holes and would kind of love to fall into one and quiet my brain for a bit.”

“Sure thing, Gurl, but you're meant to give me a chance to invite people to share anything they've written before leaping up. Sit down already and please, do you have an outfit that isn't going to leave frayed strings all over the floor?” The leather jacket guy must have been the group's leader then, as once Remus was seated again he looked around at everyone, thankfully with his glasses pushed up to his hair now.

“Remyyyy, you know I live for the drama, and it's better for people to know we can write and discuss dark stuff without you jumping down our throats.” Remus whined, but shimmied in their seat, completely negating any complaint to their words. Virgil really wished he could at least figure out the gender of this person, beyond them sharing the name of his soulmate at least.

Remy shook the coffee cup in his hand at them, “Behave for a bit, while I finish off the introduction. Okay, everyone, I'm seeing some new faces here, Babes, so a few things beyond ignoring our drama duke. He turned up one day and just from the issues he spontaneously spoke about we let him stay.” Leaning forward in his seat seemed to be Remy's way to get their attention at least.

“Now we are a writing therapy group, and yes, if you want to copy Remus, well you can have a go, but really we are here to give you methods to help yourself. Some of that will be expressing your feelings in writing, be it poetry, stories or just journaling your day, but the larger part of our sessions is getting you to follow a few steps to reduce your worries. Nothing has to be shared, and honestly if you don't think a method is for you, that's fine. Don't write it down, just write what you like.” Remy nodded, pulling some loose paper and pens out from his bag. “Does anyone else what to share something they've written, or I can lead us through re-framing our thoughts?”

Virgil kind of absently followed the activity, just picking out one thing he'd felt worried about that week. A large part of him wanted to actually reread the name on his wrist again, check that it actually did say Remus despite having long since memorised it.

His thoughts remained, scribbling words down on the page as people started asking questions, or sharing a few things they'd written instead of the exercise. Most of the people who did that specifically mentioned having been around when Remy had shown them the method before, so Virgil guessed there were a few key methods the group focused on to help with negative thoughts.

Currently however he was writing down everything that could go horribly wrong if he mentioned his soulmate being called Remus to the guy in green. Meeting his soulmate was the only positive he could find, but actually speaking that possibility would only give him hopes to be crushed as soon as the laughter came, or worse some dismissing announcement that Remus already knew his soulmate.

Virgil was so caught up in writing the thoughts down he didn't register when Remy tried bringing the group to a close and most of the circle started packing their things away.

The chair next to him deliberately being scrapped closer with a horrible screech did get him to flinch and look up though, finding the very man he was trying to remember likely wasn't his soulmate sat uncomfortably close. “Hi, you crept in while I was reading. I'm Remus and your eyeshadow is cool. Is it eyeshadow or liquid eyeliner? That would be cool for all the designs you could draw.”

“Virgil, and just eyeshadow. Why would I want more attention on – Hey!” He cut off the question when his right arm was grabbed as soon as Remus heard his name. “Don't just grab me dude! I don't know you!” He was yelling, but wasn't doing anything to pull his arm back as the sleeve was pulled up. Virgil just needed an one of the strangers from the group to have an eye on them if this was something bad.

“But you are my soulmate, whether we've just met or not. Besides, being seen out with me, you're guaranteed not to get the attention and can play around with your make-up however you like.” Remus beamed, waving Virgil's arm in the air, while twisting his head to try and read what Virgil had been writing.

Shuffling his notebook closed and into his bag with one arm was awkward but better than letting Remus read all his fears and doubts about the chances of this happening. “Not arguing with either of those things, but you definitely aren't just reading my stuff until I know you more. Let's have coffee or something instead.” He hissed out.

“Can't have caffeine. I go even more loopy and tried to break into the bank for giggles last time some barrista messed up my order.” Remus perked up proudly at his recounting, finally releasing Virgil's arm.

Virgil just flapped his hands for a moment. “Fine then, hot chocolate, park cafe, tomorrow 3pm. Now I'm going to go and try not to panic about you getting arrested over doing something stupid.” He decided, jumping up and hurriedly getting his coat back on.

“I'll be there on the dot, and if there isn't a dot for me to stand on, don't worry I'll bring paints and paper to make one!” Remus called after him, cackling in glee which made Virgil doubt he could have made as terrible an impression as he believed.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #group therapy #remus sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #Emile Picani

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logical-little-lies · 4 years ago

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Coloring and Close Bonds- Agere!AU (part 42)

A/N: Hi! This is a shorter no-little-side chapter to help advance the plot. It is like, necessary to the overarching plot so...but it is cute! Platonic Virgil and Emile Rights. Anyways, the next chapter will be a filler probably focusing around little!Emile and cg!Remy, so y'all can see how I write them.

Of course, Emile suggested that they should hang out outside of work so that they could possibly be friends again. And the core sides didn't want to say no, so here they were, watching Disney.

They had to choose the thing that could trigger any of their headspace. It's like they knew and were purposely making it worse for them. It was a million times harder to repress your headspace when you were used to regressing whenever.

Roman silently cuddled into Virgil's side, Virgil wrapping his arm around him. "Not to be rude or anything, but are you two dating?" Remy asked. Virgil nodded, as if this fact was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Have been for a while," Roman scoffed.

"Sorry, we haven't been around to know..." Emile let Remy wrap his arm around him.

"Oh my god, you two are dating!" Patton realized.

"Obviously," Remy turned his head, kissing Emile's cheek softly. "And I'm assuming you and the nerd are too?"

"That nerd is my boyfriend," Patton defended.

This whole interaction heavily shifted the vibe from tense to romantic. They avoided regressing by constantly talking to their partner and being cute. It was just a coincidence that most of the sides paired off when the Neutral Sides weren't speaking with them.

They'd soon find out that there was one other similarity between the three of their relationships, and it wasn't a romantic one.

Virgil was scrolling on his phone when he heard a knock at his door. He knew that Remy and Emile were there, but he assumed they were still having their meetings. But he was proven wrong when he swung open the door to see Emile.

"Hey?" he sounded confused, subtly attempting to block his view into the bedroom due to all the baby stuff practically lying around.

"Hey! Um, I was only needed for part of the meeting...my job is a shared one, after all. Mostly there to fix conflict but there wasn't any. I was wondering if I could hang out with you until it was over?"

"Uh, sure," Virgil shrugged. He didn't dislike Emile, at all. It was just awkward, because he knew there was a point where Emile disliked him, and some part of him brain told him that those feelings were still there, and that he was only being nice because he had too.

Like he could read his anxious thoughts, Emile started to reassure him. "Me and Remy owe you a huge apology. I'm sorry that we treated you so badly when you were a dark side...we should've known to just wait until you adjusted-"

"When I first came to live here, I pushed everyone away. Including you. I treated you badly, and you got away from that." Virgil interrupted him. "But you're right, once I adjusted, everything got better. Things changed and we changed, right?"

Emile smiled. "Yeah, exactly. Apology accepted?"

"Yeah, apology accepted." Virgil smiled back at him.

"Can I come in?" Emile asked, trying to look around him.

"We can't hang out in here!" Virgil denied quickly, stepping forward and shutting his door behind him. Emile seemed shocked, and a bit hurt that he wasn't allowed, but he nodded slowly.

"You deserve privacy. We can go to the living room and do something."

Virgil nodded, following him to the commons. They both took a seat, sitting in an awkward silence until Emile attempted to start a conversation. "So...what do you like doing, Virgil?" Emile asked. Virgil thought about how to phrase his response, trying to avoid mentioning his more childish hobbies.

"I go online a lot, and I watch movies and stuff. I don't know, I just spend a lot of time with the others..." he mumbled. "You?"

"Same, mostly. I'm the therapist in the village so that's what I've been busying myself with, keeping all of Thomas's characters and figments happy and healthy. I also just spend a lot of time with Remy." Emile shrugged.

"When did you and Remy start dating? Has that been like, a long term thing or is it new?"

"Long term, I guess. We've been together for a few months," Emile tried not to go into detail here. Remy was his caregiver, and he was his, and in order to avoid mentioning that, he'd have to stick to the romantic parts of their relationship. "What about you and Roman? How did that happen?"

"Things were complicated between everyone due to the dark sides getting involved with everything, so all of us were stressed. I started spending more time with Roman and then it just kinda...happened? Logan and Patton got together just before we did..." Virgil explained. Emile smiled.

"I'm glad you guys are so happy. It's nice knowing that you guys are closer then you were before. You guys also made friends with the Dark Sides, which is cool." Emile seemed kinda tense at that, biting his lip.

"Are you- are you scared of the dark sides?" Virgil questioned.

Emile shrugged. "They're kinda mean, or at least...they were."

"They're getting better about that. I won't let them treat you or Remy badly, just don't assume that they haven't changed."

Emile nodded quickly, the two falling into silence. How come this was so awkward? "Do you have crayons and coloring books?" Emile asked.

Coloring always helped him calm down. Remy would often sit him down and have him color after throwing a fit or getting frustrated while little. It seemed like an odd punishment, but he'd calm down after a few minutes and would be able to talk to Remy about whatever happened.

He thought that maybe, if he distracted himself with coloring, talking to Virgil might be easier.

"I mean- yeah, but why?" Virgil immediately seemed skeptical, not knowing what he was planning.

"I thought it'd give us something to do besides sit in silence when we run out of things to talk about..." Emile explained. Virgil didn't know how to object that, nodding a bit.

"Okay, I'll go find them." he agreed.

He came back a few minutes later with a stack of coloring books and a box of crayons. "You guys have a lot of coloring books," Emile chuckled, moving down from the couch to the floor as Virgil cleared the coffee table, spreading out the books and setting down the box of crayons.

"There's definitely more." Virgil assured, moving to sit next to Emile on the floor.

"Why do you have so many?" he claimed a Lilo and Stitch book, flipping through it. Virgil paused, not being able to come up with words.

"Is it an anxiety thing? Because coloring helps me too," Emile suggested, after a few moments of Virgil trying to come up with an excuse. Emile realized that his question might've been a little personal.

"Y-yeah, something like that." Virgil laughed it off, picking out a book.

As they colored and gossiped, they both somewhat repressed a headspace that felt so easy to slip into. Coloring really did help the awkwardness though.

If they ran out of things to say, Emile would compliment Virgil's crayon skills and that would fade into another train of conversation. When they fell into silence, it was because they were focused on drawing, and it didn't feel weird. They remained big by talking about anything and everything. Their boyfriends, their jobs, things that have happened.

They both had to avoid any stories that involved themselves or another side being little. Little did they know, they were both hiding the same thing. Eventually they'd figure everything out, but for now, they were stuck in a loop of keeping secrets uselessly.

It was frustrating hiding the little part of their lives, but they eventually got used to Remy and Emile being around. The Dark Sides even hung out with them. For the first time in a long time, it really felt like all the sides were united. There were some tensions, sure.

Like Janus being jealous of Roman, due to the prince replacing him in his only sacred spot of being Virgil's caregiver.

Like Remus trying to adjust to his regression without Remy and Emile finding out,

Like everyone trying to hide this 'secret' from each other.

But overall, they were getting along well. Thomas was doing much better managing his love life when the whole Romance Committee was there to help. Virgil attended meetings now, he deserved to have a say in that too. Everyone sort of apologized to each other about the sides previously being so divided.

It was almost like the labels of Core, Dark, and Neutral didn't matter anymore. They were just technicalities, not barriers. Everything seemed to flow better when they worked together. How did they manage separately for so long?

Besides the working aspect, it just generally felt like everyone was getting closer. Awkwardness faded as they laughed and joked.

Patton almost felt like his family was getting bigger. It was getting bigger.

And after just a few more issues are resolved, and a few secrets are shared, that statement will become more and more true.

Let's see how those loose ends are tied up before we get to the end of the story...

#ts agere #ts littlespace #sanders sides agere #sanders sides littlespace #no little sides in this one yall

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olliedollie1204 · 4 years ago

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everything fits (1/8)- the meeting

Single father Patton is utterly devoted to his son Virgil. Recently divorced Logan is utterly devoted to his twin sons Remus and Roman. The pieces come together.

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Word Count: 3,495

Tags: Single dad Patton and kid Virgil, Divorced Dads Logan and Janus and kids Roman and Remus (their split was mutual and their relationship is good)

listen y��all, i started this AU in January of this year, it is VERY near and dear to my heart, so even though it’s not finished i wanted to make myself happy and post what i have to hopefully motivate me to finish it <333

also a very late shoutout to @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno for reading a few chapters/oneshots for this AU... hm, six months ago? and giving me the best positive feedback i could’ve asked for. she’s a queen and a legend :D

(Read it on AO3!)

“Daddy?”

Patton woke up to two tiny hands pressing into his back. He blinked, fumbling for his glasses on his messy bedside table. As he pulled them on, blinking the sleep out of his eye, he couldn’t help but break into a large smile at the figure standing next to his bed.

Virgil was always small for his age, and the giant purple hoodie he insisted on sleeping in practically swallowed him in its soft, thick fabric. It made him look, in Patton’s professional dad opinion, even more adorable than he already was.

He had obviously just woken up— his dark hair was sticking out in all directions, and there was a small line across his cheek that Patton suspected was dried drool. His oversized hoodie sleeves idly swung by his sides. Patton would give almost anything to wake up to that sight everyday.

“G’morning, stormcloud,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke Virgil’s hair. “How did you sleep?”

“Um, good.” Patton frowned a little at the short response.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”

The little boy gnawed on his lower lip— a nervous habit that Patton had never been able to get him to break.

“Um, um, um— I’m sorry I woke you up, but—”

“Hey, Virgil, what’s the sorry rule?” Patton interrupted, grabbing Virgil’s hands to pull him closer.

Virgil looked down at their clasped hands, their fingernails painted a matching shiny purple.

“Don’t say sorry unless something bad happened,” he recited. It was a highly oversimplified rule, but a seven year old could only handle so much nuance.

Patton nodded, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Virgil’s head. “That’s right, kiddo. Nothing bad happened, so no need to say sorry, right? And in a minute I’ll get dressed, and we can go make waffles for breakfast—”

“But that’s on Saturdays!” Virgil interrupted.

Patton frowned again. The words ‘it is Saturday’ were on the tip of his tongue, until something clicked in his sleep-addled brain and— oh, fuck.

“Oh, bother,” he said aloud. “It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

Virgil continued to chew on his lip, nodding. “I woke up and I went to the, the kitchen, and the clock— the big hand was on the nine and the little hand, the little hand was almost on the seven, and—”

6:45. Patton cursed internally again. Virgil was meant to be dropped off at school by 7:00, and although Patton was rarely on time, he was supposed to be at his first job by 7:30. So much for that.

“— so I came, I came in here to wake you up,” Virgil finished, looking at his dad with wide eyes.

Patton took this all in, sighing as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s messy hair.

“Well, it’s a good thing you did, kiddo,” he finally said, smiling softly. “Because somebody—”

He poked Virgil’s cheek, giving a little laugh when his son giggled and batted the finger away.

“—Needs to get to school, huh?”

Virgil eyes lit up, bouncing on his heels. “Dr. Picani said, he said, he said we’re gonna play with clay today!”

Patton gasped as he stood up, reluctantly letting go of Virgil’s hands to get to his closet.

“Oh my gosh, that’s gonna be so much fun!” he cheered, pulling out two polo shirts and holding them up for Virgil to see.

“Grey or blue?”

Virgil pondered, brow furrowed in concentration. “Blue,” he finally announced.

Patton grinned. “I was thinking the same thing,” he whispered with a wink. “Now how about you go get dressed— I’ll help you with your hair and teeth in a minute— and I’ll throw some bread in the toaster, and you can eat it on the way, okay, stormcloud?”

Virgil nodded. He started walking towards the door, but stopped, fiddling with his sleeves.

“Um—” he blurted. “Can I, can I have a hug, please?”

Patton melted a little at Virgil’s tiny voice.

“Aw, Virgey,” he cooed, “you never need to ask me that!”

He scooped Virgil up into his arms, pressing a wet kiss onto his cheek to make him giggle.

“Ew!” He squirmed in Patton’s grip, laughing maniacally. “Daddy!”

Patton laughed, setting Virgil down. “Now go get dressed, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He straightened up and watched as Virgil left the room, his smile dropping almost immediately.

Of course he had to go and forget to set his alarm last night. Ever since Sunday night, when he had picked up a last-minute shift at the bar, Patton’s internal calendar had been thrown off by a day.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing again as he picked up his phone. Today was not off to a great start.

“All good?” Patton asked, twisting around to check the seatbelt on Virgil’s booster seat once more. Virgil nodded, his mouth full of bread and jam.

“Okay, let’s hit the road!”

With that, Patton pulled onto the street a tad bit faster than he normally would, a ‘Best of Disney’ CD playing in the background.

Patton sang along, but his attention was not on the music. Rather, it was on his son, who was getting more and more fidgety the closer they got to the school.

At the next stoplight, Patton turned down the music, catching Virgil’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“Vibe check?” he asked. It was a silly joke, some meme Remy had started quoting that Patton had picked up without even really knowing what it meant, but it soon became his and Virgil’s code word for talking about scary stuff like feelings.

Virgil didn’t answer right away, but Patton was patient.

“I don’t… I don’t want people to look at me when I walk in,” Virgil eventually muttered, eyes on his lap. “‘Cause they’ll think it’s weird that I came in late.”

Patton’s heart sank.

“And… and what if I miss something important, and I won’t know how to catch up, and Dr. Picani will get mad at me—”

Virgil’s voice broke a little as the boy started sniffling.

“Oh, kiddo,” Patton murmured, reaching behind him to grab Virgil’s sticky hand. “Virgil, honey, can we take deep breaths?”

He inhaled loudly enough for Virgil to hear him, and after a few seconds the two exhaled together. They did this for a few breaths, in and out, in and out.

When Patton was confident Virgil wouldn’t start crying, he let go of his hand, bringing it safely back to the steering wheel.

“Are those all the bad things that could happen?”

Virgil nodded in dejection.

“What are the good things that could happen?”

Now the child paused. “Um, um, um, I don’t know.”

Patton thought for a moment. “Well… I think Kai will be pretty happy his best friend came to school, even if you’re late, right?”

He looked to Virgil for confirmation, and after a beat the boy nodded.

“And if you miss any classwork, then maybe Dr. Picani will let you go to the library during playtime to finish it.”

Virgil nodded again, a little more enthusiastically. He hated the chaos of playtime; children screaming and running around and roughhousing with each other— the library would be a welcome boon from all of that.

“And…” Patton racked his brain for a third example. “And you won’t have to listen to the morning announcements, ‘cause they already happened!” he finished triumphantly, knowing that the ancient speaker system was especially grating on Virgil’s ears.

“Plus, have you ever thought someone was weird, just because they came in the classroom late?” he continued. Virgil shook his head. “So I don’t think anyone will think you’re weird.”

Virgil hesitated. “I guess.”

Patton winced.

“I’m really sorry you feel nervous, kiddo,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide. “It’s okay,” he replied automatically.

Pattons smiled a little. “Are you saying that not to hurt my feelings?” he asked, kindly but sternly.

Virgil looked torn. “Well… I mean— I guess I mean I’m not mad at you, because everybody makes mistakes, and I love you.”

Patton gave a surprised laugh. “I love you, too,” he responded, once again thankful beyond words that Dr. Picani was teaching his son healthy ways to express complex feelings.

“It’s very kind of you to be considerate of my feelings,” he continued, pulling into the school parking lot. “But I’m your daddy, and it’s my job to take care of you. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, and I’ll be double sure it’ll never happen again.”

He looked at Virgil in the rearview. “Can you forgive me?”

Virgil nodded, eyes wide. “I forgive you.”

Patton sighed, looking at his son with adoration. How he got such a great kid, he’ll never know.

As soon as he turned off the car, he hopped out to help Virgil unbuckle his seatbelt and get his backpack on. The young boy clambered out of the car, but made no move towards the large school building.

Patton knelt down to his eye level.

“Do you wanna walk in by yourself, or do you want me to come with you?”

Virgil fiddled with the string on his hoodie. “Aren’t you late for work?”

Patton paused, checking his watch. “Yeah,” he admitted. He always tried to be honest with Virgil when he could. “But I called my boss and told him what happened, so I won’t be in trouble.”

He wasn’t gonna get paid for the hour of work he was going to miss, but Virgil didn’t need to know all that.

“Plus,” he added in an encouraging tone, “you can show me that drawing you told me about? The one Dr. Picani put on the wall because it was so good?”

Virgil flushed a little at the praise. “He put everybody’s drawings on the wall, Daddy,” he insisted, but there was a small smile on his face now.

“Yeah, but I’ll bet there was only one person who thought to draw a robot shark and a sabertooth tiger being best friends. I mean, that’s so creative!”

Virgil shrugged, smiling down at his shoes. “I guess you can see it, if you wanna.”

Patton laughed and held out his hand. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

Hand in hand, the two made the long walk up to the building. As they got closer, Patton squeezed Virgil’s hand.

“What do we say to the door?” he asked— another little ritual between the two.

Virgil giggled, throwing his arms out in front of him like a wizard casting a spell. “Open sesame!”

Patton laughed as he grabbed the handle.

“Thank you, kiddo,” he said, and pulled.

The door stayed shut.

Patton frowned. He pushed it instead. Nothing.

Virgil lowered his arms. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothing,” Patton hurried to say. He pulled again, then pushed again. “I think… I think it’s locked.”

Immediately Virgil’s smile dropped.

“Why is it locked?” he asked, a little bit of anxiety returning to his voice. Patton pulled the door yet again, but it stayed firmly shut.

“I don’t know, kiddo.” He scanned the wall for anything that would unlock the door. There was a keycard scanner on the metal doorframe, but Patton didn’t have a clue how to activate it.

He could sense Virgil was about to get upset again, and he rubbed a hand against his son’s shoulder.

“Okay, let’s take some deep breaths. We’ll get you into class, one way or another.”

“Why would they keep the stupid door locked?” Virgil demanded, and normally Patton would remind him to use nicer language, but to be honest, he was thinking words that were a fair bit harsher than ‘stupid’ at the moment. He didn’t look at his watch again, but he knew that he really didn’t have the time to wait around for someone to walk by the door.

He turned around, about to suggest they try to find another door to get into the building, but found himself face to face with… another pair of glasses?

He gasped, hand flying up to his chest as he stepped back from the figure who was suddenly in his personal space. The other man— tall, sharply dressed, with square framed glasses perched on his nose— looked appropriately guilty at Patton’s reaction.

“Apologies,” he commented in a clipped tone. “I was in a hurry and I did not realize you weren’t entering the door.”

Patton was having a little trouble bringing his focus away from the man’s deep blue eyes, until he felt Virgil squeeze his hand, bringing him back down to Earth.

“No worries!” he responded faux-cheerfully, as the blue-eyed man moved around him to approach the door. “We, uh, we think it’s locked.”

He paused, looking back at Patton as he pulled something out of his pocket. “I have a keycard.”

With one swift motion, he swiped the card, pulled on the door, and moved to the side, holding it open as he looked at Patton expectantly.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Patton stammered, gently pushing Virgil through the door in front of him. “Come on, Virgil.”

The two made their way into the hall, Virgil pulling Patton by the hand through the unfamiliar building.

“The office is over here,” he whispered, just loud enough for Patton to hear. Patton nodded, picking up his pace a little bit but still lagging behind Virgil.

They walked a few feet before a voice chimed in again.

“It’s a safety protocol.”

Patton turned in confusion, finding Blue Eyes walking nearly next to him with long, confident strides. He opened his mouth to ask for clarification before he realized that the man was not looking at him— he was looking at Virgil. Patton turned around just in time to see Virgil give the man a suspicious look.

“What?” Patton winced a little at his bluntness, but Blue Eyes seemed unbothered.

“You asked why they keep the door locked. It’s a safety protocol. It prevents unauthorized people from entering the school building during the day.”

Virgil frowned and curled in on himself. Patton waited two beats before realizing he wasn’t going to reply.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense!” he jumped in, not wanting to be rude to the man, who turned his gaze onto him.

“Yes,” Blue Eyes replied after a moment, “although I suppose there should be some way for parents and visitors to enter the building without having to wait for someone with a keycard to happen by. I will be certain to address this in our next staff meeting.”

Patton blinked, a little bit unsure if the man was still really talking to him or just thinking aloud.

“Probably a good idea,” he replied anyway.

He suddenly felt himself jerk as Virgil turned a sharp corner, pulling him into a nearly identical hallway. Blue Eyes continued to walk with them, speeding up to keep pace with Patton.

Patton gave a sheepish smile. “We’re running a bit late,” he said by way of explanation.

“As am I,” Blue Eyes replied. “Almost ten years of teaching and this is the first time I’ve been late to work.”

Patton’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Well, I hope— I mean, obviously, I don’t want to keep you from your class, if that’s the reason you’re walking with us—”

He fumbled through the sentence, trying to politely let the man off the hook if he was already late for work, but he stopped himself as Blue Eyes shook his head.

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with you. I need to pick up some photocopies for my class from the main office. I would be going this way regardless,” he stated. Patton felt himself blush a little.

“Oh, okay. Good.”

The trio arrived at the office, again with the blue-eyed man holding the door open for Patton and Virgil. As soon as they were inside, Virgil bolted to the back of the office where the late entry sign-in sheet lay. Patton meandered towards him, but stopped when he heard the man clear his throat.

“After some… reflection,” he began with consideration, “I realize that my behavior might have seemed off putting, or perhaps even rude. I apologize.”

Patton blinked in surprise at the sincerity in the man’s voice. “No, are you kidding? You definitely saved our butts back there, getting the door and all. You’re my hero!” he joked, choosing to ignore the potential awkwardness of the statement.

Nevertheless, Blue Eyes smiled. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

Again Patton expected that to be the end of the conversation, especially considering the man apparently needed to pick up some papers for his class, but Blue Eyes continued to look at him.

“Logan Croft,” he said suddenly, sticking out his hand. Patton was picking up on the man’s— Logan’s— tendency to jump between conversation points.

“Patton Hart,” he responded, shaking his hand. Logan’s grip was firm in his, and Patton became very aware of the jam residue Virgil had left on his palm.

Despite this, Logan made no move to pull away for a few more beats, eventually dropping his hand.

“How old is… Virgil?” Logan asked, eyes darting to the young boy again.

Patton smiled on reflex. “Seven.”

Logan seemed pleased with his answer. “Ah. A good age. Hopefully not too rebellious yet.”

“No, no, he’s a great kid,” Patton assured, laughing lightly. The two watched as Virgil stood on his tiptoes to fill out the sign-in sheet, his pencil gripped tight in his fist as he wrote his name in careful, blocky letters.

“Do you have any children?” Patton asked on a hunch. He smiled to himself as he saw Logan’s eyes light up. Bingo.

“Twin boys, age ten,” he replied in a voice full of pride.

Patton laughed again. “Oh, gosh!” That made a lot of sense, given how Logan was currently watching Virgil with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. “Twin preteen boys, that can’t be a walk in the park.”

“Yes, they can be… more than a handful at times,” Logan admitted. “My husband—”

He faltered for a brief moment.

“... My ex-husband handles their fluctuating emotional states much more delicately than I do,” he finished.

Patton knew not to comment on Logan’s slip up, or the change in his demeanor. Instead, he smiled softly.

“Well, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and Virge here,” he said, shrugging lightly. “So I reckon you’re probably a really great dad.”

Logan met his eyes again, giving him a smile that made Patton feel a little flushed. “Likewise.”

Patton felt a tugging at his hand again, causing him to look down.

“You ready, kiddo?” he asked. Virgil nodded, a tardy pass clutched in his fist.

Patton turned to face Logan again, but he wasn’t there. Confused, he looked around, just in time to see the other man duck into a back office space.

That was… surprisingly disappointing, but Patton couldn’t dwell on it. He turned his attention back to his son.

“Let’s get you to class, stormcloud,” he chirped briskly, moving them both towards the door. He had just started to push it open when he heard a voice behind them.

“Virgil?”

The two turned in sync. There was Logan, watching them from the doorway he disappeared through, a stack of papers in his arms.

“I like your hoodie,” he said.

Patton felt Virgil abruptly squeeze his hand tighter, a slight distraction from the way his own heart seemed to skip a beat. He smiled, opening his mouth to respond on his son’s behalf, and—

“Thank you!” Virgil replied.

Virgil… replied? To a stranger? Without Patton prompting? He felt his eyes bug out of his head, and he tried not to openly gawk at his son, who was— oh my Gosh. Virgil was smiling at Logan, and suddenly he raised the hand not holding onto Patton, and he waved!

Patton whipped his head back to Logan, watching in shock as he waved back at his son. He met Patton’s eyes, and his friendly smile turned into one of understanding. Patton couldn’t help but grin a little too wide as he waved as well, the two of them finally exiting the office as the door swung shut behind them.

“Daddy! He said, he, he said he liked my hoodie!” Virgil was practically jumping up and down. Patton didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“I heard,” he finally managed, his smile somehow growing even wider as he added, “And you said thank you, just like you’re supposed to when someone compliments you! You did such a good job, kiddo, I’m so proud of you!”

Maybe he was making this into a bigger deal than it was, but Virgil was almost cripplingly shy when it came to strangers, especially grownups; and yet within five minutes with Logan, he had been able to smile and speak and even wave.

Patton changed his mind. This was one of the best mornings in his memory.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, urging Virgil to pull him down the hall. “Lead the way!”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logicality #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sander #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #my writing #my posts #everything fits

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 58]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 23 and what’s done of chapter 24 is under the cut.

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 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

Okay, I’m still not feeling 100%, but lets see how much I can do today. :)

Chapter 23

“Would anyone care to explain themselves?” Logan asked the room filled with the most frustrating human being he’d ever met. He must have infused his voice with the desired amount of ire, because everyone in the room seemed to wince simultaneously except…

“No thanks!” Remus chirped. Logan shot him a tired look and stepped forward. “Wait! Dad! No!” Logan swiftly put him in a headlock.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told the others. His son was a bit wiggly when Logan started to pull him towards the elevator in the other room, but he didn’t actually put up much of a fight.

He let Remus go when they got to the elevator. The elevator was small enough that they ended up taking it in two groups. Logan ended up in an elevator with Lena, his sons, and his brother.

There were a couple of moments of awkward elevator music. “I am very displeased with everyone in this elevator.”

No one responded but Patton who patted him on the shoulder. Logan turned on him. “You are at the pinnacle of my ire.”

There was a few seconds of drawn out silence, and then Patton removed his hand. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “You could hear a pen-acle drop.”

“Kids, you no longer have an uncle,” Logan said coolly.

“That’s right,” Patton said with a smile despite the glare Logan was sending him. “You only have a puncle now.”

Roman snorted out a laugh but looked quickly away when Logan glared at him.

The elevator came to a stop and they climbed out of it. “You all go to the conference room while I wait for the rest. Except you,” he pointed at Lean. “Fred can debrief me. You go get that checked out.” She shot him a thumbs up (because apparently the lack of disrespect for his authority had rubbed off on her) and wandered off towards medical.

“Um,” Roman said tentatively.

“Yes?” Logan asked, already even more tired.

“Also, Janus may or may not have a broken rib. At least he said he might have.”

“Why on Earth is he walking around, then?” Roman just shrugged in response to Logan’s question.

“And send someone down to look at his Janus,” he called after Lena right before she turned the corner. “Anything else pressing?” he asked the three still with him. “No? Then I’ll see you all in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Conference room 16 or 17?” Remus asked.

“Remus, everyone here is aware that room 17 is a broom closet,” Logan said.

Remus sent him finger guns. “Conference room 17 it is,” he said turning to strut off down the hall. Roman shot Logan an awkward half smile before following after his brother, and Logan’s own brother jerked forward to smack his lips against Logan’s forehead before waltzing off after them.

Why was his family like this?

He turned to wait for the elevator to go back up to the factory and down again. He crossed his arms as it arrived. “You’re injured?” Logan asked as the doors opened.

Most of the occupants looked confused, but Janus looked slightly annoyed. “Remus,” he muttered.

“Roman actually,” Logan corrected. “I’m having someone sent down to look at you.”

“I’m f-”

“Don’t even try to argue right now; your second on my list today.”

“Remus is first?” Janus asked.

“Of course, Remus is first.”

“Where am I on the shit list?” Remy asked with interest.

“Somehow, only 5th.”

“Score!”

“But you’re inexorably moving up.”

“But I’m not in the top three.”

“No, my children and brother fill up the spots above you.”

“You said I was second,” Janus said with a frown.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Also, you’re grounded.” Then, he turned to walk towards the conference room.

“Wait, Logan, what does that mean?!” Janus asked his back.

“It means, Logan owes me a buttload of child support,” said Remy.

“I am not your kid. You are not my dad.”

“Sure, son.”

When Logan made it to the correct room, his family was already hard at work making his life a series of aggravations. Before even stepping into the room, he turned to the opposite side of the hallway and opened the door to the supply closet.

“Get in the correct room before I make you get into the correct room,” Logan said.

“Come on dad, you know it’s not nice to force someone out of the closet.” On most days, Logan would not have found that at all funny, but today for some reason, it elicited a snort of surprised laughter. Remus smiled up at him from his seat on the floor like he always did when he’d done (or thought he’d done) something clever.

“Don’t,” Logan warned, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t. That doesn’t mean your forgiven. I am very, very unhappy with you.”

Remus just kept grinning.

“I’m relieved that you are safe and happy to have you back with me,” Logan said, “but I am also very angry.”

“Eh, that’s fair.”

“Now get out of the closet.”

Remus found it fit to obey him for the moment, and stood, following him to the conference room where the others had gathered. Patton had somehow found a stack of name tags and a box of markers somewhere and had managed to convince Roman to help him draw little pictures on them along with the names. Patton stuck one with a broom drawn on it onto Remus when he came in.

Remy and Fredrick were currently forcing Janus into a chair while Roman avoided the glare the injured man was sending at him, and Emile was talking quietly to Virgil.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Let’s start with the ones who haven’t started to explain yet. Roman?”

“My phone got broken probably somewhere between Janus tackling me and hitting me in the face.”

“Oh, is that why Dad texted me about where you were a thousand times?” Remus asked

“Yes,” Logan said, “and you said you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t say that actually.”

“Remus.”

“I was in the middle of something! …And then I forgot.”

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake,” Roman said.

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake!” Remus agreed. “Along with Roman’s car and us for a minute.”

“You drove your car into a lake?” Logan asked Roman. “Is that why you are all wet?!”

“Yes, he did!” Remus said.

“Hey! No!” Roman said. “I managed to stop the car before it went into the lake. It’s not my fault the guys behind us aren’t as good drivers as me and slammed into us!”

“Roman destroyed another car!” Remus crooned. “What’s that? Three? And you say Janus is cursed!”

“I take so responsibility for the Taurus or for this one!”

“Two’s a coincidence; three’s a pattern!” Remus sang joyfully.

Logan shook his head at them and chose to look over at Janus instead. “And you?” he asked. “You looked at your mission details and never responded.”

“You were trying to send me on a wild goose chase when my brother was missing!” He tried to stand up and Remy pushed him back down again.

“I was trying to get you in a controlled environment before telling you of the issues for fear you would overreact and do something careless if you found out on your own.”

“I already knew,” Janus growled, “and that is not your call to make.”

Logan considered that. “Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed, “but you still should have attempted to communicate with me, at the very least so I would have known you were okay. For all I knew, Nelson had caught you in a lie and your cover had been blown.”

“It is blown,” Janus muttered. “I smashed her phone, blew up her car, and disobeyed her. She sent men to kill me.”

It was honestly a relief. Janus had been in danger constantly while being a double agent and he’d grown more than fond of the man in the last few years. Not having to play nice with Barbara all the time would do him some good.

“We’ll have to reassign you,” Logan said. “As well as Remus, and you’ll both need new permanent residences.”

“We already decided we’re getting an apartment together,” Remus said.

“You decided,” Janus said weakly, clearly not actually interested in protesting, but needing to keep up appearances.

“And we’re going to get a kitty.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Well, in that case, I would highly suggest you verify it is in fact a ‘kitty’ before you allow it on the premises. I have made that mistake before.”

“You love Raphael,” Remus claimed.

“Possum,” Roman explained at Janus’s questioning look.

“In fact,” Logan said. “It may be advisable that Remington consider moving as well. Nelson very much knows where you live and will likely be unhappy with your continued existence. At least, you should consider taking up residence somewhere else temporarily. For tonight, I’ll get everyone set up in some of the rooms in the base, but that will come later. For now, we need to get everything sorted out. I have a good overall idea about what happened at this point, is there any other important information I need to deal with immediately?”

Mostly everyone shook their heads and Logan was about to move on to getting more detailed reports when Remus raised his hand.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“There are two of Barbara Nelson’s men tied up in the trunk of Lena’s car,” he offered.

“What?” Logan asked.

“They were the guys shooting at us that caused Roman to drive into the pond.”

“I did not drive into the pond.” Roman said.

“You were shot at?!”

Chapter 24

Logan had kept them in the meeting room for literal hours, pausing only to feed everyone except Patton and Virgil (who had actually eaten dinner). Eventually, he decided that he was satisfied with the explanations (Well, no, perhaps not satisfied, he was still very displeased with everyone except Virgil and maybe Emile, though Emile had not helped himself when he’d realized that he’d spoken both to Patton and Remus in the grocery store near Remy’s house and he and Patton had proceeded to go off on a tangent about pasta.) and had taken them all to some of the hotel style rooms in the base.

#study break stories #not writing

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trashyswitch · 4 years ago

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The Strange Twin Brother

Remus was known as the strange, impulsive brother who liked causing havoc wherever he could. Here are some stories of times he traumatized people, worried people and teased people through his charmingly grotesque ways.

I'm dedicating this fanfic to a couple of my friends who LOVE dark humor.

This fanfic has some SUPER dark humor. Animal death and a couple subtle dirty jokes added in. A little bit of bondage is used as well. So read at your own risk, and enjoy the dark humor!

It was always known that Roman was the preppy, clean one of the twins while Remus was the weird, stinky twin. Roman was known for play productions, being the ultimate feminine gay and for bursting out in song randomly, while Remus was known for pulling pranks, being a less hairy Grinch and for reading smut out loud to the entire room.

But Remus was also known for just being strange in general. There have been some disturbing moments where Remus was seen covered in blood while eating a raw rabbit, some annoying moments where Remus would shout out truths about certain origins behind Disney movies, and strangely amusing moments where Remus would bring a skunk home, give it a collar and keep it as a pet despite Logan’s demands to let it loose.

And yet, Roman often chalked all these strange behaviours down to just ‘Remus being Remus’ and wouldn’t question his already screwed up inner thoughts.

Doesn’t mean things were all sunshine and rainbows...Roman would be super worried for Remus if that were the case!

One day, Roman and Patton were looking at scrapbooks of old times with the family. They were looking at Thomas’s public school wins when the front door had closed. Roman turned around, knowing that would be Remus.

“Hi Remus! Any luck?” Roman asked.

Suddenly, Remus jumped out into the living room with his bow and arrow, a blood bag and-

WAS THAT WOLF FUR?!

SHIT! PATTON’S THERE!

Roman yelped and quickly shoved Patton’s face into the scrapbook to keep the innocent boy from looking. “OW! ROMAN! WHAT’S WRONG?!” Patton shouted.

“Uuuuuh...Animal...Hide.” Roman replied.

“ANIMAL?” Patton reacted with a big smile as he tried to lift his head back up. “What kind of animal is it? Let go, Ro! I wanna see the animal!” Patton asked excitedly.

Roman bit his lip and sat himself in front of Patton’s view. “It’s dead, Pat! You don’t wanna see it!” Roman let him know.

Remus just laughed at that. “So seeing a dead wolf carcass is off limits, but seeing TONS of Roman ass is fine?” Remus teased.

Roman rolled his eyes at that. “My ass is covered, unlike that devastated wolf face you’re wearing as a hood.” Roman shot back as he continued to keep Patton’s face hidden from the still-bloody hide. “Whaaat are you gonna do with the hide?” Roman asked.

Remus hummed and tilted his head to the side, causing the animal head hood to follow to the side. “I’m thinking a coat! Or a bathrobe!” Remus declared excitedly.

“Why not both?” Roman asked.

Remus gasped and ran up to Roman, tackle-hugging him to the ground. “YOU’RE A GENIUS!” Remus shouted.

Roman flopped onto his back, a good 3 feet away from Patton. Pat lifted his head up, and quickly screamed and covered his eyes. It really was a wolf carcass! A still-bloody carcass at that! Patton picked up the scrapbook and covered up his own field of view with it.

Roman giggled and looked at the jaw-dropped wolf face that was still slightly bleeding. “Are you gonna remove the teeth and feed them through a thread?” Roman asked, pointing at the set of sharp wolf teeth.

“Probably, yeah.” Remus replied.

Remus smirked. “You should dip the ends of the teeth into some red paint to make it look like bloody teeth that just caught their meal.” Roman suggested.

“Hmmm...Paint? Or bloooood?” Remus asked.

Roman chuckled and shook his head. “Whatever you feel looks better.” Roman replied.

Remus hummed as he thought about how to do it. Suddenly, Remus snapped his bloody fingers! “How about I mix some blood INTO the paint! So it looks realistic AND sticks properly!” Remus declared.

Remus shrugged his shoulders. “You can try it. You have a closet full of craft stuff you can use.” Roman mentioned.

Remus gave Roman one last bloody, slightly furry hug. “Thank you Roman! You’re the best!” Remus declared happily before getting up and running to his room.

Roman chuckled and shook his head. What a nutjob. He looked over at Patton, who was sloooowly uncovering his face with the scrapbook. The poor guy looked traumatized beyond belief.

Logan was hanging out with Remus at a nearby park. Remus was casually sitting on a park bench with a stroller filled with a litter of tuxedo kittens. On the cup holder of the stroller was an extra large iced coffee and an abandoned knife and fork. While the kittens were left sleeping in the stroller with a cover over them, Remus was completely devouring a full rotisserie chicken with his bare, greasy hands.

Logan was sitting beside him, holding a fork and taking little bits of the chicken. Though Logan was growing slightly disgusted by Remus’s feral behaviour, Logan was able to maintain a calm, casual facial expression. Though people were staring at Remus with worry and disgust, Logan just smiled and waved at the people as they walked by them.

It was like seeing a polite englishman sitting beside a New Jerseyan! Complete opposites.

When the two of them were mostly alone, Logan slowly leaned over to Remus. “You’re creating quite the reputation here.” Logan whispered.

“I knothw!!” Remus replied proudly, his face fully stuffed with just chicken. The man didn’t even have anything to wash it down besides his iced coffee! Soon, Remus got up, moved the plate of cooked chicken carcass onto the bench, and picked up his Starbucks coffee with his dominant hand. He happily slurped down some of the ice-filled coffee and smiled with his cheeks all bunched up like a chipmunk.

“Imagine Patton seeing you right now. He would lose it.” Logan mentioned.

Remus let out a muffled giggle at that. “Gooth thin’ he’th noth!” Remus reacted, a slight bit of coffee sliding down his chin.

Logan just laughed at that and ate another piece of the chicken. It didn’t take long for Remus to resume scarfing down his chicken while taking sips of iced coffee in between. It was the perfect combination for a protein & caffeine diet.

Eventually, a guy with a black jacket, sunglasses and a large iced coffee of his own, started walking by. “What the fuck is that creature?! And WHY do I WANT ONE?!” they declared to their vest-wearing friend with a red tie.

Remus choked on his iced coffee and bursted out laughing. Logan smirked in amusement and looked up at the jacket boy. “This is Remus. He’s...definitely a strange one.” Logan introduced. “Also single.” Logan muttered.

The jacketed guy smirked and drank more of the iced coffee. “Come here often?” he asked the both of them.

Logan chuckled at that. “Quite often, yes.” he replied.

“Ith’ my ffffavorithe thpot-th!” Remus declared happily.

“Do you two have names?” Logan asked.

The jacket guy nodded. “I’m Remy. And this, my special loving beanie baby over here, is Emile.” they introduced.

“KITTENS!” Emile shouted excitedly, staring at the stroller.

Remus smiled and looked at Emile. “Yup! It’s a stroller filled with kittens.” Remus said proudly.

Emile picked up one of the tuxedo kittens and hugged it close. “It’s soooo CUUUTE!” Emile cooed.

Logan looked at Remus and raised an eyebrow. Remus looked at Logan back and nodded his head. “Would you like to keep it?” Logan asked.

Emile gasped and beamed at them. “REALLY?!” But Emile quickly composed himself. “I-I mean- Are you sure? I didn’t know they were for sale.” Emile admitted.

“They weren’t. But you look very happy with it!” Remus added. “That one’s a boy.” Remus added.

Emile looked at Remus again, still not sure if he should be taking a cat home. Remus nodded his head with an innocent smile. “I insist!” Remus replied.

Emile looked at Logan. “If you’re wondering, they have all been vaccinated from 8 weeks old till their age which is 5 weeks old.” Logan told Emile. “If you would like, we could cover your vaccination costs up until he reaches 4 months old.” Logan offered.

“Oh my gosh that offer sounds lovely! But I can pay for it myself. But could we meet at the veterinary clinic you take them to, so I can meet their vet and sign the adoption papers?” Emile asked.

Logan nodded. “Of course! I’ll give you the address.” Logan replied.

While Logan was doing that, Remus was looking at all the kittens and growing curious. But he was quickly interrupted by a wave in his direction. Remus and Emile’s locked long enough for Emile to mouth the words ‘thank you’ to him. Remus smiled and nodded back. But then: Remus picked up one of the kittens…

Remus just started staring dead into Emile’s eyes, and shoved the cat’s head into his own mouth. Still staring at Emile, he bit down on the cat, killing it instantly and swallowed it whole. Emile’s excitement for the cat quickly faded away and a big, terrified chill ran down Emile’s spine. It was here that Emile realized that Remus was most likely not in the right mind. Emile quickly patted Logan’s shoulder and pointed to Remus. “He- j-j-just- ateacat…” Emile said, struggling to even talk.

Logan looked over at Remus and immediately noticed the hanging tail that was sticking out of Remus’s mouth. Logan sighed. “How in the world are you still hungry after all that chicken?” Logan asked.

Remus laughed. “I just am!”

Emile hesitantly kept the cat they had just been given, and made a mental note to never let Remus hold their cat. EVER.

A good while later, Patton and Janus were cleaning the house while Remus and Roman were coloring in the kitchen. They both had a cup of water each, and one pack of markers laying in front of them at the table to share. Though only Remus was using all the colors due to the boy’s...strange habit of bleaching them and sucking on them.

Remus was currently drawing a blender filled with green gunk mixed with what he assumed to be blood, and something white. Whether it was milk, bone bits, drugs or...something else; no one but Remus could tell you. All they knew was that some of the green gunk was spilling out the top corners of the blender lid.

Meanwhile, Roman was drawing a completely white picture of a gigantic dog surrounding a bunch of tiny people. But the dog was not like Clifford the Big Red Dog. It was a fluffy white pomeranian! And the pomeranian had a...saxophone? It even had the word *Bork* written beside the mouth.

Wait, was that Gabe the Dog?

Remus giggled at the picture of Gabe the dog, and made a little high-pitched ‘BORK’ sound. Roman bursted out laughing at that and made an evil old hag cackle. Remus wheezed at the cackle while Patton was giggling and shaking his head at the two.

Soon, Logan walked into the room with a smirk. “Why do I hear dogs and evil witches in here?” Logan asked.

Remus and Roman both had to stop their coloring and drawing to lean back and laugh their heads off.

Logan sat down at the table as well and continued to read the astronomy book he had walked out with. But Logan quickly closed it as he cringed at the strong smell of bleach in the kitchen. “Patton, you need to stop using so much bleach.” Logan told him.

Patton turned around. “Come on, Logan, it’s not that bad. I didn’t even clean over there!” Patton reacted.

Logan tilted his head. “Are you sure you didn’t? Because It smells like you cleaned the table with it.” Logan told him.

Patton huffed and put his cloth-covered hand on his own hip. “I’m positive, Logan.”

Logan rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the bleachy smell. But it was not easy. Soon, Logan rubbed his finger on the table and smelled it.

Nope. No bleach.

He rubbed his finger on the windows and discovered that there was no bleach used there either. So, Logan looked around. “Where is that bleach smell coming from?” Logan asked as he followed his nose like a composed dog. Logan followed it till he looked down at the cups and markers. Logan sighed. “You weren’t using bleach on the markers again, I hope…” Logan asked Remus.

“Nope! Not today!” Remus replied proudly.

Logan looked at the cups and lifted them up. He smelled Roman’s cup first -much to Roman’s dismay- and placed it down.

Just water.

But then Logan lifted up Remus’s cup and smelled it:

Logan pulled his head back and coughed violently. Then he widened his eyes when he realized that half the water was already drunk!

Logan slammed the cup onto the table. “Remus.” Logan asked calmly.

Remus looked up at Logan with his teeth showing widely. “Yeeeessss?”

Logan cleared his throat. “Do you remember what we taught you about what bleach does to your digestive system?” Logan asked.

Patton gasped and threw his cloth onto the ground. “REMUS!”

Remus stifled a laugh. “Yes. I don’t remember exactly what happens, but I do remember you mentioning...death?” Remus replied.

Logan sighed and rubbed the top of his nose...only for him to quickly move his fingers away from his face out of fear of getting bleach droplets into his eyes. Then, Logan took the cup and dumped the bleach down the sink. “No more drinking bleach, Remus. It is disgusting and it can easily kill you.” Logan ordered.

Remus slowly lifted up a silver flask. “One new thing to learn about!”

Roman widened his eyes. “PATTON! REMUS HAS A FLASK!” Roman shouted.

Patton sprinted to the rescue and took the flask. “What have we told you about alcohol?! Alcohol for you, is strictly off limits! Remember what happened the last time you drank?” Patton ordered.

“The best experience of my LIFETIME?!” Remus declared excitedly.

Logan dumped the cup of water into the sink. “May the orphan children rest in peace.”

Remus bursted out in evil, proud cackles. Patton brought the flask to the sink and dumped out what he assumed to be alcohol. But much to his surprise: it was clear!

...and reeked of bleach.

Logan pulled out a baby bottle, dumped some milk into it and shoved the baby bottle into Remus’s mouth. “Drink up. Flush the bleach out of your system before your stomach and intestines burn.” Logan ordered.

Remus whined and pouted. Roman giggled at the look of a baby bottle in his grown brother’s mouth, and continued to outline the saxophone. “I’m done!” Roman declared, showing off his picture to Patton and Janus.

Remus pulled the baby bottle out of his mouth and showed off his picture as well. “I’m done as well!”

Both Patton, Janus and Logan enjoyed seeing the pictures they drew, and updated the fridge drawings. Patton would eventually scrapbook those pictures and show them off to Thomas.

One day around Halloween time, Roman was looking around for Remus in his room. But he was nowhere to be found. But things soon became more clear once he found a lined page with a creepy-looking drawing on it. Roman giggled and looked around. “Very funny, Remus! I know what your costume is now!” Roman teased.

Roman received no response. So, Roman turned the page around and continued looking around. “Remus, quit being secretive.” Roman ordered. Like he guessed though, Remus didn’t come out.

So, Roman followed the page’s advice and put the page into his pocket. Roman opened a drawer in the room that held a flashlight. He pulled it out, turned it on and started looking around. So far, there was nothing.

He looked around for another page or another clue to Remus’s location. Little did he realize that all he had to do...was look behind him…

Roman suddenly SCREAMED and threw the flashlight into the air! Something had wrapped around his feet and was now lifting him up! Roman shouted and grabbed at any surfaces he could, to get away. “AAAAAH! REMUS?! LET GO!” Roman shouted.

A static noise started filling Roman’s ears and a static-y image of Slenderman started getting closer and closer to Roman. Roman’s fear grew as the faceless being suddenly grew a mouth and teeth, and GROWLED loudly at him.

Next, another pair of tentacles grabbed Roman’s arms and waist, and lifted him upright. Roman gulped and pulled on the restraints, with no avail. He was utterly and truly, fucked.

Quickly, more tentacles summoned themselves from out of nowhere, and started wiggling and fluttering on his armpits, feet and lower back. Roman jumped, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to move away from the tickly tentacles as a wobbly smile grew onto his face. The tentacles wiggled and teased his armpits the most, taking advantage of just how vulnerable they were in this moment.

Roman took one desperate look at the tickling tentacles and threw his head back as the tentacles at the feet, suddenly found his toes! “Hehehehehehehey! Quihihihihit ihihihit Rehehehemuhuhuhus!” Roman giggled.

The tentacles at his lower back, started drawing up and down his spine. This caused Roman to arch and wiggle his back more. But things got even worse the moment four tentacles started tickling both his armpits! Roman squealed loudly and squeezed his fists as laughter and snorts started leaving his mouth! He couldn’t even try to cover up his mouth in any way because his hands were tied! Literally!

Then, everything quickly hit the fan the moment Remus’s tongue reached his ear. Roman guffawed and snorted at that! Roman squealed with laughter! One one hand, all Roman could think was just how disgusting and slimy it felt to have a tongue fluttering and ‘licking’ his ear! But HOLY HECK did it work! It was so much more ticklish than his toes and armpits combined!

Roman snorted again. “LEHEHEHET MEHEHEHEHE GOOOHOHOHO!” Roman begged.

The single tentacle that tickled Roman’s back, started writing letters on his lower back!

[Tickle tickle tickle]

Roman whined and shook his head. How DARE!

[Coochy coochy coo coochy coochy coo]

Roman widened his eyes and tried to tug on his restraints one more time. Of course, he was unsuccessful. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Roman begged loudly.

[No]

Roman shook his head. “COHOHOME OHOHOHOHON MAHAHAHAN!” Roman pleaded.

[Fine]

Roman let out a breath of relief as the tickling tentacles lessened dramatically. But unfortunately, the black tentacle that was writing on Roman’s back, was not gone.

[Wet willy time]

Roman widened his eyes. “W-WAIT-” Roman was interrupted by the evil tongue tickling his ear once again! Roman shrieked loudly and threw his head back with laughs, snorts and the occasional cackles! All the while, the messenger on his lower back was still writing messages to him!

[Surprise!]

Roman shook his head. “IHIHI THOHOHOUGHT YOHOHOU WEHEHEHERE DOHOHONE!” Roman yelled.

[Im not done.] It wrote. [More tickles for Roman]

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and just gave up on trying to get out. There was just no trying to save himself from the clutches of Remus the slenderman tickle monster!

[Tickle tickle Roman]

[Tickle tickle brother]

[sit back. Accept your fate]

Here’s the fanart!

Remus:

Roman:

(Drawn by a friend of mine)

#roman and remus are twins #chaotic remus #strange remus #dark comedy #background janus #super dark comedy #animal death #remus being remus #ticklefic #ler!remus #lee!roman

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rosesisupposes · 4 years ago

Text

sweet tea in the summer

in what is definitely a shock to all, i really love folklore.

read on ao3

characters: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Brief Logan, Brief Remy

pairings: platonic to romantic royality; paternal prinxiety; paternal moxiety

word count: 3,980

tags: trans Patton, parental transphobia (including deadnaming, misgendering), parental homophobia, gender euphoria, childhood friends to lovers, heavily closeted trans boy, coming out, endless fluff

a/n: inspired by both “seven” off folklore and "It's Nice To Have A Friend" from Lover

⁂

Part 1: seven

They grow up as neighbors, just a street away, enough that Ro passes Pat's house going to and from school, and they walk together sometimes.

Roman may not be the smartest, book-wise, but well. Some things he just gets. And it does not take much for him, even as a seven-year-old, to pick up on the way Pat tenses up going home, to connect that with the distant yelling he hears some nights.

He finds Pat one afternoon, hiding in a little group of trees. The pink frilly dress is a mess- and Pat's hair is dramatically shorter than it was yesterday.

Pat's also crying in a way that Roman can tell has been going on for a while.

"You're Pat, right?" Roman says, plopping down by the same tree.

Pat looks shocked and surprised but nods.

"I'm Roman! We should play!"

"You want to play with me?" Pat asks.

"Yeah! You seem fun! C'mon, we can go over my house, Papa won't mind!"

Pat flinches. "Are you sure?"

"Yup! Let's go!"

And Pat would question it more but Roman is ebullient and it seems easier to just go along with it. It can't be worse than crying alone.

Roman's Papa is not surprised that Roman's acquired a friend somewhat by force. Virgil just smiles wearily and asks if Pat would like some crackers with banana and cinnamon, too?

Pat nods, and Roman's delighted, already talking a mile a minute about ideas he had for playing pretend!

Virgil eventually cuts into the flow and reminds Roman that he hasn't actually introduced his friend yet.

"Oh! Sorry! Papa, this is Pat!"

"What's Pat short for?" Virgil asks, smile gently at the wary look on Pat's face. "Is it cause he's only got little legs?"

Pat's face splits into an enormous grin at the pun. "It's short for- um. Actually, I don't think I like it very much? It feels icky. I like the Pat part though."

"Can I give you a nickname?!" Roman asks, starry-eyed. "I think, um. Pat pat. Pipat. Patton!"

"Patton?" Pat tries out. "I like that. Patton. Hi, I'm Patton!"

Virgil smiles. "Nice to meet you, Patton. Now, that dress looks very messy, and not easy to play in, would you like to borrow some shorts?"

Patton smiles, eyes tearing up just a bit. "I would love that, are you sure it's okay?"

"Yes! Yes it is!" Roman interjects. "Here, you can come pick out something of mine! They'll probably fit!!"

"Slow down, my dashing little princey," Virgil says, grabbing the back of Roman's tee with the ease of long practice. "You need to finish eating your snack. Patton can come with me and we'll pick something while you finish. Okay?"

"Yes, Papa," Roman says, pouting. He sighs dramatically as he eats his crackers with exaggerated effort.

Patton walks behind Virgil down a hallway covered in dozens of drawings. Many are half-finished, but all clearly show enthusiasm and more than a little glitter.

Virgil grabs a couple of options, taking some of the clothes Roman's just starting to grow out of. Patton is just a bit on the smaller side still. He gives the boy a stack of clothes and shows him the bathroom, where he can change in private.

But, some sixth sense of Dad Instincts tells him he should wait in the hall right by the bathroom door. Just in case. (In case of what, he's not quite sure yet, but-)

Fuck, yup, that is definitely the sound of a little boy trying to cry as quietly as possible.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?"

Patton sniffles and replies, "I'm fine!"

Virgil frowns. "Can I come in, buddy?"

A pause.

"Oh-okay."

Patton has put on khaki shorts and a blue polo, but his hands are shaking as he looks at his discarded dress.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" Virgil asks in his softest Papa Voice.

"I'm being bad," Patton whispers. "I ruined my dress and I'm not wearing it and I cut my hair myself and I wasn't s'posed to and-"

Virgil hesitates, then sits on the tiled floor, pulling the sniffling boy into his lap.

"Hey, Pat, it's okay. It's just clothes and hair, okay, kiddo? Do you like how it looks?"

"Yes, but-"

"That's all that matters, buddy. And if you don't like it, hair grows back, clothes can get cleaned. I can clean your dress while you play, so you don't have to bring it home dirty, if you want?"

"I don't want him to be angry," Patton says in a tiny voice. "He scares me when he's angry."

Virgil tries very hard to be level-headed for his son, who really needs a solid presence. Which means he's had seven years of practice to be able to not swear loudly at the fear in Patton's voice, to not go off on a rampage to the Corwan house and give Mr. Corwan a piece of his mind. Instead, he hugs Patton into his chest, shushing quietly, rubbing the little boy's back as he sniffles into Virgil's hoodie.

"You know what we're gonna do, Pat? I'm gonna make sure your dress is all cleaned up, and when we're all done playing, we'll walk you home, okay?" He suppresses the fury from his voice as he adds, "And I'll tell your dad that it was all your idea to make sure you got cleaned up, and that it wasn't your fault it got dirty. How's that sound, kiddo?"

Patton nods, face still buried in the soft material of the black hoodie.

"Let's go, okay? Roman should be done with his snack by now."

Patton holds Virgil's hand on the walk back to the kitchen. Virgil has already half-committed to adopting this boy into their household if Mr. Corwan makes him cry again.

Roman is still in his seat, but barely. One of the crackers is just a pile of crumbs, and there's banana smooshed on his cheek. The minute he sees Patton, he's leaping out of his seat.

"Let's go play! I think we should be pirates! Or knights! Or-"

"Hey, what do we say about playing with guests?"

Roman catches himself. "I should let him have ideas too?"

"That's right, princey. C'mere."

Virgil has to let go of Patton's hand to wipe up Roman's face, because getting him to stand still is a two hand job.

He stands them shoulder-to-shoulder. "Okay, boys, you have a quest today!"

Roman's eyes are shining with excitement already.

Patton looks more concerned. "A quest?"

"Yes," Virgil says solemnly. "Your quest is to make sure your friend is having fun the whole time, and to listen to each other. Okay?"

Roman bounces in place. "Yes! I'm gonna be the best quester ever! Promise, Pat, you're gonna have so much fun!"

Roman grabs Pat's hand and they run out together to the back yard. Virgil sets himself up to clean the dress right by the big window to keep an eye on them, one ear always open for the cries of skinned knees or a-little-too-roughhousing

Patton smiles, face glowing as he listens to Roman's idea of how they can be pirate-witch-knight-ninjas.

It's nice to have a friend.

⁂

Part 2: thirteen

"Psstt!!! Patty!"

Patton turns to see Roman grinning hugely from his locker across the hallway. He waves frantically to get him to come over.

"What's up, buttercup?"

"It's here! Papa texted me, it just arrived!"

Patton freezes, eyes wide. "Already? Really? You mean it?!"

Roman nods, grinning hugely. "So you're coming over today. We'll say it's for that bio project if we have to, kay?"

Patton brushes at his eyes, making sure he's not tearing up visibly. He surprises Roman with a fierce hug. "Thank you, Roro."

Roman hugs back just as tightly, but he responds in a whisper so quiet that only his friend can hear. "You deserve it, Patton."

Patton can't stop smiling, even as his eyes feel like they're getting misty. "Oh gosh, how am I supposed to focus on algebra now? Can we just skip the last two periods?"

"Pat Corwan, 8th Grade Class President, wants to skip classes?" Roman replies with a mock gasp. "I'm shocked and appalled. And no, I have long-block scene study, there's no way I'm skipping."

"I know, I know. I'll see you soon!" Grinning, Patton walks away to his class, practically floating.

His desk-mate takes one look as he sits down and arches a brow. "So, Corwan, did he finally ask you out or what?"

"What?" Patton asks, barely aware he'd spoken.

Logan Williams sighs. "Sanders. Did he ask you out? You're smiling even more than normal. If I sunburned easy, I'd be concerned right now."

"Um, no? Ro and I are just best friends," Patton replies.

Logan rolls his eyes. "Best friends? You go to his house half the time after school, everyone's been waiting for you two to officially start dating."

"I-"

"Actually, if you were waiting for an excuse, you should run for Homecoming King & Queen together, I have a bet on that being the timing."

Patton frowns. "I have no plans to run for homecoming anything. I'm on the selection committee, that would be favoritism."

Logan shrugs. "Suit yourself. My only interest is in getting to finally hear a different topic of speculation during the lunchtime gossip mill. But you should probably know-"

Patton looks apprehensive. "Know what?"

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Half the grade already calls you The Future Mrs. Sanders."

Patton swallows a lump in his throat, fingers fidgeting with the material of his skirt. "I don't care what they all call me. He's my friend."

Patton turns his focus back to the lesson, but he keeps spacing out and missing parts, thinking about Logan's comments. But soon enough he's through algebra, and history passes without incident, and he's on his way to the Sanders house on Roman's bus.

As they walk through the door, Roman trills loudly, "Paaapaaaa!!!!!!! We're hoooOOOmmmeee!"

"I think I missed the part where I raised a rooster instead of a Roman," Virgil grumbles, emerging from his home office. "Heya, Patton!"

"Hi, Virgil," Patton says, grinning happily as Virgil immediately opens his arms for a hug. It's been years since he's even tried to call Roman's dad 'Mr. Sanders', because Virgil objects that it makes him sound like some corporate square.

"You wanna see it now or do you need to decompress first?" Virgil asks.

"Now please!" Patton says, and Roman claps and runs to the entrance hall to find the package waiting there.

Practically bouncing, Roman hands the package to Patton as he goes into the spare bedroom that's practically become his. His hands shake a little as he tears open the packaging.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?" Virgil asks through the door.

Patton emerges, tears leaking down his cheeks. He's changed into some of the clothes he keeps here, plus his new addition - pants, a polo, and his brand-new binder.

Roman bursts into applause, wolf-whistling and cheering. Virgil just smiles. "How's it feel, kiddo?"

Patton smiles at them, eyes damp. "It feels perfect. Thank you so much for letting me get it sent here."

"Anytime you need, Patton," Virgil says. "You know you're an honorary Sanders. Now, do you remember the safety tips we talked about?"

"No sleeping in it, or wearing for too many hours at a time, and try not to exercise in it?"

"That's right, kiddo. And you can keep it here until you feel comfortable wearing it out and about."

Roman hugs Patton carefully, not squeezing as tight as he normally does. "You look very handsome, Pat."

Patton just blushes and hugs back, amazed by the new feeling of the less-squish-in-the-front of the hug.

"Also I know it's our excuse but can you actually help with me bio, I can't get the hang of the cycles."

"Anytime, Roro."

Much later that evening, after a spaghetti dinner and several hours of 'homework' that actually accomplished one half hour's worth, Patton leans back against the bedspread with a happy sigh.

Roman looks up, eyes glowing in contentment. "Hey, you. You good?"

Patton looks down at his flatter chest and smiles. "Yeah, it's- I'm so happy, Ro. Thank you again."

"It's what you deserve, Pat," Roman says earnestly. "You deserve to have your family fully embrace and accept you, too, but until then you've got us."

Patton makes grabby hands, and Roman scoots over to hug him tightly. They don't always need words.

"Ro-" Pat says quietly, a thought suddenly popping into his head and out his mouth. "Did you know that half the grade calls me The Future Mrs. Sanders?"

Roman stiffens, not making eye contact. "I've, uh. Heard that once or twice, yeah. I know it sucks, Pat, but I don't know how to discourage it without outing you."

Patton takes a breath. "That part- I mean, I'm used to it. But-"

Roman sits back, looking concerned. "You know you deserve to have people use your pronouns and honorifics, right? It's not too much to ask. It won't be an imposition, I promise, it's just courtesy-"

"I know, Roro, thank you. No, I um. Yeah, that Mrs. part is still an unyeah, but-"

Roman waits, a little confused.

Patton closes his eyes. "Does the other part bother you? The part where they're implying that we- that we'd get, you know."

"Married?" Roman squeaks out.

"Yeah, that."

"I- I mean, you'll be my best friend no matter what but um, maybe, occasionally, Ithinkaboutthattooyeah?" Roman says all in a rush, blushing furiously.

Patton opens his eyes to see Roman's red face, then reaches out and takes Roman's hand. "Oh thank goodness."

Roman stares at their interlocked hands for a long moment, face growing steadily redder. "Really?" he manages to squawk out. "You- you really- me?"

"Who could I possibly like more than you, Roro?" Patton replies, and he's blushing too, now. "I- I love you, Roman. As much as I know how."

Roman makes a strangled sound of delight, only able to smile and nod. He swallows, trying to compose himself, and whispers, "Patton - will you be my boyfriend?"

Patton is fairly sure he could never contain more warm fuzzies than he does right now, hearing "boyfriend" applied to himself, from this wonderful, wonderful boy that has been his best friend for 6 years.

"Only if you're be mine too, buttercup," he whispers, happy tears sparkling in his eyes for the second time today.

⁂

Part 3: twenty-one

Roman watches Patton moving around their dorm room as he paces. In his head Roman counts how many minutes have elapsed and decides it’s time to interfere.

“Honeycake, you can always decide not to, you know that, right?”

Patton flashes him a distracted smile. “I know, sweetheart, but that’s the problem. I want to, I’m just-“ He twists his hands nervously. “I’m nervous, Ro.”

“Would it help to talk over why you’re nervous, or do you want to not think about it?”

Patton paces again, back and forth, then sighs. “I’m going to do this eventually, so I might as well do it now. I want to remember tomorrow without regret.”

Roman stands and grabs Patton’s fidgeting hands, holding them in his and looking directly into Patton’s eyes. “Let’s do this, Pat. I’m here for you, always.”

Patton smiles weakly. “Can you dial, I’m going to chicken out.”

Roman nods, and unlocks Patton’s phone. In just a couple buttons, it’s ringing on speaker.

“You’ve reached the Corwan residence.”

Patton takes a breath, and says, “Hi, Dad.”

“Ah, good, we were beginning to worry we’d miss the ceremony tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” Patton says, a little shaky. “Well, I’ve asked, and there will be tickets for you and Mom at the box office.”

“Thank you. You know how excited we are to watch you graduate! We are so proud of you, Patricia.”

Patton flinches, and Roman immediately grabs his hand and squeezes.

“Um, yeah. I- I don’t know if we’ll have time to go out after, there’s a lot of stuff for the program and student leadership-“

”If you think we’re not going to take our daughter out to dinner on her big day, you’ve got another thing coming!” he replies in a jovial tone. Patton flinches again.

“Oh- okay then, Dad. I’ll see if there’s time. Um. See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait!”

Patton hangs up, head bowed. Roman immediately starts to peppering his face in kisses.

“My sweet, dear man, you are so brave and wonderful and also I will absolutely make those tickets disappear if you’d like them not to come after all.”

Patton leans into Roman’s chest with a shaky chuckle. “No, I think it’s time, love. I don’t want to keep hiding.”

The next day, the campus is a zoo, filled with families and balloons and people trying to find an open spot for photoshoots in their caps and gowns.

Roman and Virgil have teamed up to convince Patton to be subjected to full model treatment, Roman earnestly whispering “Make it fashion!” from behind Virgil’s clicking camera. Patton’s laughing as he tries to balance on the hippo statue that is their school’s mascot.

Then, though, it’s time, and Roman and Patton wave to Virgil as they file into the huge staging area with their classmates. They’re a sea of maroon robes, brightened by cords and stoles in various colors for all the school’s affinity groups and activities. Patton’s got so many, he looks like he’s wearing a rainbow. He fidgets with his colored stole. “Ro-“ he says, grabbing for his boyfriend’s hand.

“Patton, my light, you look amazing,” Roman says, leaning in close so only Patton can hear his murmur. “You are so, so strong, and so brave, and I love you to the moon and to Saturn.”

Patton smiles into Roman's shoulder, and manages to relax. They share a quick, chaste kiss, then separate to their halves of the alphabet.

Luckily, as they file in, their seats end up just across the aisle from each other, and Roman keeps turning to blow kisses.

The good thing about being in the Cs is that Patton doesn’t have too long to sit and let his nervousness fester. He walks up to the stage in procession, seeing Roman mouth “You’ve got this!” from the crowd of graduates.

“Cosgrave, Alicia” walks across the stage to the cheers of her family and accepts her diploma. Patton takes a deep breath.

“Corwan, Patton!”

He pushes his various cords out of the way to reveal his stole’s colors: stripes of light blue, pink, and white. He squares his shoulders, and walks across the stage. He’s not looking at the crowd, but he recognizes Virgil’s whooping.

He accepts his diploma, shakes the university president’s hand, and poses for the staged picture all before allowing himself to look up into the bleachers.

He can immediately see the Corwans. They don’t look mad, just- confused. His dad seems to be studying the program intently. He turns back to his seat, to see Roman’s smile glowing from across the aisle.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mouths, eyes shining, and Patton lets out a relieved sigh. He did it. And Roman’s here. It will be okay, no matter what happens next.

The rest of the ceremony melts away, and all Patton really remembers is Roman pulling faces at him as the speakers drag on, and him having to muffle his giggles.

The minute they’re standing to proceed out, Roman leaves his place in line to sneak over and slip his hand into Patton‘s. He sticks by his side until they’re out in the meeting area. Patton has a deathgrip on Roman’s hand with nervousness as he looks around the crowd.

Virgil finds them first, and Roman’s very flamboyant uncle Remy is there, too, stealing Roman’s mortarboard to pose dramatically.

Then Patton hears the polite cough behind him that he knows is his mom. He turns, Roman’s hand in his still, with the Sanders brothers at his back.

“Why did they say your name like that?” his dad asks bluntly.

Patton straightens. “Because that’s the name on my diploma.”

“Patricia, what’s the meaning of this-“

“It’s Patton, dad. I changed it legally.”

“Patty, what are you saying?” his mom asks, frowning.

Patton plucks at his stole. “I’m trans, mum. I’m a boy. And I was always meant to be one, no matter how many dresses I wore.”

His heart is in his throat, beating like mad, but Roman’s squeezing his hand in pride and Virgil and Remy are behind him. He can practically hear Remy sliding his glasses down his nose to glare at the Corwans.

”And you’re okay with this- this delusion?!” Mr. Corwan demands, turning to glare at Roman.

“Absolutely,” Roman replies immediately. “He’s been my boyfriend for 7 years, and I love him as he is and exactly as he is.”

”This- no, that’s ridiculous, Patricia,” his dad spits out. “No daughter of mine is going to be part of this trender nonsense. I thought that was clear.”

“You made your position clear he was seven and scared to go home,” Virgil cuts in acidly. His hand is warm and comforting on Patton’s shoulder. “You made it clear that he’d have to hide himself from his own parents because they couldn’t find a way to love their child as a son.”

Mr. Corwan sputters, turning purple, as Mrs. Corwan turns white.

“Well- you can say goodbye to any help from us-"

“What help?” Remy drawls. “Ya boy’s graduated, been hired, and signed a lease without you. He doesn’t need your assistance even if you wanted to give it.”

Mrs. Corwan purses her lips. “Well, I hope that he,” she says tightly, exaggerating the pronoun in what is clearly intended as mockery, “is prepared to go through life without a family.”

Roman takes a step in front of Patton at that. “You’re not ashamed to say that to your only kid? Really? I’ve got news for you, ma’am. He’ll always have a family.”

“What, you mean that?” she asks with a derisive sniff at Virgil and Remy still holding Patton’s shoulders.

“No,” Roman says, suddenly calm. “I mean this."

He turns, smoothly sinking to one knee as he smiles up into Patton’s shocked-into-smiling face.

“Patton Corwan, my gorgeous man, love of my life, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

All the heaviness in his chest melts away and the knots in his stomach dissolve as Patton smiles down into Roman’s adoring gaze. “Oh Roman,” Patton says. “I would love nothing more.”

“I will not stand for-“ Mr. Corwan gets out, but Patton’s gaze locks onto his.

“Congrats. You don’t need to. You already said no daughter of yours will be like me, and you were right. You’ve made it clear I’m not your family. And as long as that’s how you feel, I don’t want to be.” Before he can sputter out an answer, Patton adds, “Plus, it’s way too late to object. Should’ve been there over Christmas if you wanted to, now you’re gonna have to forever hold your peace.”

“I’m- what?”

“Can I tell them?” Roman says, standing with a huge grin. Patton nods, starting to laugh.

“Patton asked me to marry him way back in December, the minute he got his early job offer. It was a beautiful ceremony. It even had the kind of dress I’m sure you were picturing, and I wore it particularly well, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, rough luck babes, looks like your invites got lost,” Remy drawls. “Well, maybe you’ll get to get to your other kid’s wedding. Oh wait.”

Virgil grins. “You two spouses want to go get graduation lunch now? My treat. I think they’re gonna need a minute.”

“Or a couple thousand,” Remy mutters.

Patton turns away from his parents, beaming at his family. “That would be wonderful, Papa.”

⁂

#royality #trans patton #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #paternal prinxiety #paternal moxiety #transphobia #gender euphoria #Papa Virgil #found family #roses writes fanfic #do it for dani

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