#yes patton have wings there's nothing you can do about that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 7 months

Text

Over The Rainbow (3/4) - Virgil

<- Previous | Next ->

----

Notes:

Virgil makes an appearance!! Sorry this one took me so long - I genuinely just kept forgetting to post it like an idiot, lol. Hope you enjoy regardless <3 TW for ableism in this chapter.

----

“Alright actors! Gather up here before we begin warmups today,” Their director called out as the last person arrived in the theatre, “Tech, head backstage - you’ll just be continuing what you were doing last week - actors, yes, I have role assignments for everyone!”

A cheer went through the small crowd of collage students assembled, Roman included. He’d tried pretty hard on his audition! Patton and Logan had both helped him perfect it and everything!

“I’ll leave the sheet here for you all to look at and scripts for you to collect. Once you’ve gotten your role and your script I’d like you to spend this session going through the script and marking your cues, thank you.”

Roman was one of the first people to get to the front and check for his name. When he found it he groaned.

“I’m the lion ?” Roman sighed, “The cowardly lion ??”

“At least you're not the tin man, babe,” Remy said, mockingly patting Roman on the back with his coffee cup. Roman rolled his eyes and moved over to grab a script. Oh well, it was a little disappointing, maybe he was a little disheartened by his role in their production of The Wizard of Oz, but… it would have to do.

Roman found a quiet spot near the wings on the stage and sat down, beginning to look through his script and mark out his lines with his red gel pen as instructed. It was about ten minutes into the task that Roman began to hear the strains of an argument from the wings.

“We needed the orange fur, not the green,” Someone snapped.

“Well you should’ve sent someone else then,” Someone else snapped back immediately, “Considering I can’t see either of those colours.”

“Or maybe you’re just being difficult!” The first person said, voice getting just a little louder, “Since you say you can’t do literally every task I give you! It’s like you just don’t want to fucking help at all!”

“Dude it’s not my fault I have a lot of soulmates,” The second person tried to defend, “And you keep giving me colour related tasks! Not to mention I’m literally disabled - I can’t do certain things, dude.”

“What so it’s my fault then?” The first person snapped, “We wouldn’t have this problem if you could just do it right.”

Roman frowned, how rude, he thought, people can't help their soulmate colours or their disabilities!

“I- I’m not saying it’s your fault ,” The second person said, sounding uneasy, “I’m just saying it’s not mine either.”

“Oh no, totally not your fault that you’re incompetent and lazy,” The first said and Roman nearly growled. Who the fuck thought it was okay to talk to someone like that? He stood up, glancing at the director and upon finding that she wasn’t looking hurried off the stage to find whoever was having this argument.

—

“Excuse me,” Roman said - it certainly wasn't hard to find them, considering the argument had evolved into whisper-yelling and finger pointing, a heap of green faux-fur piled between them. Both of them looked up at him and Roman almost immediately felt as though he’d been slapped across the face.

Violet eyes .

Man, Roman really hoped the one with purple eyes wasn’t the one who’d been being a dick.

“Hey - uh, Roman, right? You’re an actor, did you need something?” Said the other person and Roman breathed a sigh of relief, thank god his soulmate wasn’t the asshole.

“I heard arguing, I just wanted to see what was going on, is everything okay?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow. Purple looked embarrassed as they leant on their cane, while the other bulked.

“Nothing major , just Virgil failing to do what I ask again .”

“I couldn’t see the goddamn colour!” ‘Virgil’ yelled, kicking the fur on the ground and storming off, Roman sighed.

He looked back up at the asshole, raising an eyebrow, “People can’t control what colours they can see, y’know.”

“He’s lying to get out of doing the work, no-one has yellow as a colour, nor orange,” The guy rolled his eyes, “You know how those people are.”

“Those people?” Roman repeated, frowning, “No, I don’t think I do, do you care to explain?”

“I mean, you know how lazy they can be?”

“Who?”

“ You know- come on man, don’t make me say it.” Asshole sighed.

Roman raised an eyebrow, “I mean, maybe re-evalute your opinions if you can’t even say them out loud, maybe think about whether that's an okay mindset to have? And for the record, yeah, people can have orange as a soulmate colour.”

Without waiting for a response, Roman huffed and walked away after Virgil. Eventually Roman found them sitting in the costume closet, hunched over and tugging at their curly white hair. Roman took a deep breath and knocked on the open door before walking in.

“Hey, are you okay?” Roman asked, they looked up with a worried look in their eyes.

“I’m fine ,” They huffed, glaring at him before looking away, “I don’t need you to save me or whatever this is.”

Roman huffed in pure confusion for a second - what did that even mean? “I’m not- I wanted to make sure you were alright since you left and he was being a total dipshit? I also wanted to, y’know, say hi, since apparently we’re soulmates?”

“Yeah, I figured,” Virgil said, glaring at him.

“Did you dye your hair yourself?” Roman asked, regardless of their clearly hostile attitude. Their hair was mostly white, but the ends were dyed a pastel purple.

“I- yeah,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at him, “Why?”

“Uh- I think it looks cool?” Roman tried, “I did mine too.”

“Nice,” Virgil huffed, “...thanks, by the way, he is a dick.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe,” Roman rolled his eyes, “I’m guessing that’s not the first time?”

“Nope,” Virgil said, popping the ‘p’.

Roman frowned, going over to sit down next to Virgil - far enough away that they weren’t touching, “Have you reported it?”

“Why bother when they’re not going to do anything about it?” Virgil asked, before huffing when Roman raised a confused eyebrow, “They never do. ”

“I’ll report it,” Roman said, “And I’ll make them do something about it, I can be quite stubborn, you know.”

Rolling their eyes, Virgil stood up again and went to leave before Roman jumped up to stop them, “Wait! We’re soulmates, right?”

“Well yeah,” Virgil glared at him.

“I’m guessing you don’t know any of the others?”

“No, I haven’t met anyone else, where is this going?” Virgil stuffed their hand in their pocket, “I need to get back to what I’m supposed to be doing before Toby has another tantrum.”

Roman sighed, “I know some of the others, Green and Blue, I wanted to give you my number so… maybe we can chat? No pressure or anything, just, I wondered.”

Groaning, Virgil pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for a few seconds before handing it to Roman, “There, put your number in, on the condition that you buy me coffee after theatre.”

“Can do!” Roman said, grinning as he typed his number into the box and handed the phone back, “I’m gonna go talk to the director now.”

“I’m not gonna be able to persuade you to leave it, am I?”

“Nope, unless you want my brother to come down here and probably murder him,” Roman shrugged, Virgil looked alarmed for a second, before sighing and shaking their head.

—

“You found Purple?” Patton gasped, leaning into Logan’s side as he worked on some project. The three of them were sitting on Logan’s double bed, because he was lucky enough to have a private dorm room, “Why’d you not introduce us?”

“They seem really shy,” Roman sighed, “And super standoffish, I don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“That is very considerate,” Logan told him, “And surprising, considering how excited you and Patton seem to get about almost everything.”

Roman rolled his eyes, “ Yeah I’m excited! That’s why I came here to gush about them instead of dragging them over to meet both of you at once and possibly put them off of all of us forever!”

Shrugging, Logan turned back to his work, “Fair enough.”

“Oh oh! Tell me about them!” Patton gasped, flopping onto their front so that they could look up at Roman with wide eyes, cupping their chin in their hands as they waited. Roman chuckled.

“Well… they’re tall, with hair and skin as white as snow! Their hair falls in waves and fades into a lovely lilac at the ends!” Roman said - trying to put as much poetic emphasis on the words as he could - gestures included - before giggling, “Apparently they dyed it themself - um, they like sweet coffee - they ordered a caramel macchiato with extra cream after theater, they dress mostly in black, their style seems very interesting - an even mix of emo and scene…”

Roman kept talking, repeating just about everything he had learned about their fourth soulmate from the conversation they’d had over coffee after theatre. By the time he was done, Patton seemed entirely enamoured.

“What’s purple like?” Patton asked once Roman had finished talking.

“Roman just told us all about them, were you not listening?” Logan frowned, tilting his head.

“No no! I mean, purple, the actual colour!” Patton corrected, “What’s the colour look like?”

“Oh, well it’s kinda like, blue, but if you put pink in it.” Roman shrugged, “So kinda a warmer blue.”

“Cool!” Patton grinned, before sighing dreamily, “I can’t wait to see it, and them, oh Roman when can we meet them?”

“I was actually thinking…” Roman said, frowning at his phone, “I’ll ask them too, but I was wondering if maybe it would be better to add them to our groupchat first before we all met? So they get a chance to get used to you guys?”

Patton gasped, eyes brightening, “That’s a wonderful idea!”

—

It was two weeks of near constant texting and the occasional phone call before Virgil finally told them they were comfortable meeting everyone in person. Patton had been overjoyed, barely able to sit still as Roman told them both that they’d be meeting Virgil at a cafe after the rehearsal that day.

Logan had smiled - properly - and told them he was looking forward to it, Patton had practically pulled the both of them into a hug and squeezed them tightly until Roman could barely breathe.

—

Later on, Roman managed to persuade Virgil to come with him to meet their other soulmates, and the plan was in motion.

“So… um… what should I expect?” Virgil asked as they walked beside Roman, one hand stuffed in their jacket pocket and the other gripping tightly to their cane.

“Well - Patton will probably want to hug you,” Roman chuckled, “Which you can definitely say no to - they’ll ask.”

Virgil seemed to relax minutely as Roman said that, he sighed.

“You can leave at any point,” Roman reassured, “You don’t have to stick around if you’re overwhelmed.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil pushed their tinted glasses up their nose, “Yeah yeah, you’ve only told me two hundred times, I’ll be fine.”

“Cool, cool, right,” Roman chuckles, “Sorry.”

“You seem nervous , Princey,” Virgil smirked at him, Roman scoffed.

“Nervous? Me? Never! I don’t know such a thing!” he protested, Virgil laughed.

“Yeah yeah, you’re very brave, it’s okay,” Virgil patted him on his arm as they walked into the cafe, Roman rolled his eyes even as he held the door open. Virgil laughed, walking in before stopping in his tracks as his breath hitched and his eyes widened.

“Woah,” Virgil whispered, “so much colour - this cafe is blue ?”

Roman chuckled, “Mhm!”

“Hey!” Patton called, waving widely from across the cafe, “Come on! Come sit! Hi!”

“Come on,” Roman said to Virgil, leading the way through the crowd over to the table in the back where Patton and Logan already sat with both Roman and Virgil’s coffee orders already on the table along with their own. Patton was so far out of their seat with excitement that they were almost standing whilst Logan was quietly telling them to calm down.

“Hello,” Virgil said as he sat down in the nearest chair, placing their cane to lean on the table, “Um, nice to properly meet you guys?”

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

| Next -> |

----

#sanders sides #roman sanders #dlamp #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #logan sanders #patton sanders

15 notes · View notes

asksuccubussides · 5 months

Text

I would give my life just to hold your hand

Part 1 out of 2

Masterpost of chapters

Author's note: This is a prequel to the story "What if you were an asexual succubus, wouldn't that be fucked up or what" but can be read on it's own

1887

“Hey have you heard? About Patton? He’s the only awful demon who has ever survived being sent up here to Heaven!”

The words were said in a hushed tone like it was a deep secret even though nearly all of the young Guardian angels had gathered around the older Guardian angel like they were being told a campfire story. The sound of the older succubus’ voice echoed against the colorful walls of the sleeping hall as they continued. It was quiet enough that a falling needle drop would be heard.

"He got punished and sent up to heaven after killing a human! A poor innocent human!"

A gasp went like a wave through the crowd of tiny angels.

" We intended to do to Patton what we do to all demons that get sent up here but-" The older angel moved the lantern they were holding so a grim shadow fell upon their face "-He got away! He uhh" They self censored themself here for the sake of the kids "Was a real meanie to the Angels who tried to stop him and stole a bunch of secret Angel information before escaping to earth! Some say he is still out there on earth! Hiding in plain sight! He could come back for revenge any day!!"

In one swift swipe they sniffed out the lantern making some of the young Angels scream but the older one quickly calmed them down and reached out to pat them on their halos. They beckoned the kids to climb into the many bunk beds littering the room as it was lights out time. The bunks stacked high upon each other up to the roof, some of them reaching as high as five beds on top of each other since even the younger angels could easily flap themself up there using their fluffy wings (the baby feathers were dropping everywhere to make way for new ones).

The angel watching over them wasn't their guardian or any of that sort. It took a village to raise a child as they said and the older Angels all took turns looking over the kids between their work on earth. Few of the kids could even say they recognised the one wishing them goodnight this evening which was why a young angel with big warm eyes and a softly pink halo hesitated before reaching out to ask the older angel in a hushed voice "Why would Patton kill a human?"

The older angel tucked him down under the covers while a wrinkly crease appearred between their slightly furrowed eyebrows "You see honey Demons don't age like we do so they never learn to empathize with the humans. They are created as adults and age very very slowly but still age consistently. They are never children like we are. Does that answer your question huneybun?"

He nodded and the older angel soared back down and landed perfectly into a cozy armchair "So kiddos who wants to hear a nicer bedtime story?" A resounding yes came "Alright! Who's ready to hear the next chapter of" They drummed on their thigh "Dante's inferno!!"

1889

Darker hues of pink pulsated like waves along the young Angel's halo. Judging the weather based on his halo would make you think a storm was brewing and the ache in his stomach from nervousness agreed on the storm assessment. Right now his first ever human he had been told to guard over laid in a hospital bed moments away from dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He knew it was soon because he had seen the human's death the moment he had been assigned to guard the just as young human. Not just seen, he had felt the slow groth of the sickness and now as death inched closer he could hear the slowing heart beats in his ears even though he was sitting outside the hospital. He was still only seven so the human's parents hadn't thought it appropriate for him to be there at the time of death.

The heart beat went still and the angel hugged onto his knees and waited for Heaven to call. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was sitting in front of the receptionist keeping track of the guardian angels. He had to stand on his tippy toes to be able to reach up to the counter. His expression made it so clear he had just lost his first human that the receptionist gave him a sympathetic look before writing out the paper work to find him his next human.

"You remember how this works don't you? Since your human didn't last long"

He nodded and leant his head forward so that the reciptionist could tap their finger to his forehead to connect his soul to the next human. It only took a few seconds before his lungs suddenly felt like they were filled with water and he coughed to try and get it out. The knowledge of the date and time of when the death would happen became so clear to him it felt as ingrained in him as a bird's need to fly north in winter.

The angel opened his mouth and let out a loud childish wail and the receptionist just waited for it to be over, God they hated getting the shifts in the section for the younger guardians. After what felt like an eternity the kid's tears slowed down and snot dried up all around his mouth as he sniffled out "But the last human had a disease! All I could do was be her friend and make her happy till it- it took her! This! I can just tell him to not go swimming that day! I can-"

The receptionist shushed him and started going through the script they had learnt during their work training "The deaths are already planned yada yada. If we let them live further there's a chance they will sin and lose their place up here. A short life but access to heaven is a great deal against a long life and eternity in hell. You're helping them come to heaven. Just remember that" They prepared to send him back down to earth in the area where his new human lived "C'mon put on a big smile"

May 1921

It had been a few years since the angel had stopped momentarily aging and his current human was turning out to live for quite some time which made it all in all a pleasant time for him. Angels paused their aging for a few decades at a time before quite swiftly aging around ten years or so once they were ready to upgrade to guarding slighter older humans. With his extended stay at one place on earth, Vienna in this case, he had had time to wiggle his way into focusing on his hobbies. Like right now! When he was watching a live Autopsy!

Hearing the news that his latest human lived in Austria had honestly been such exciting news because the angel had absolutely sucked up any and all information he could find about Karl Roitansky's autopsy research for years now and though he obviously had never been able to meet the man he was able to go to the public autopsy showings the university held. Dozens of men were sitting in the round wooden lecture benches all surronding and peering down onto the bloody table from above, most of them wearing proper clothes worthy of a university visit and because of the layers of clothes all of them were huddling together in the sparse spaces of shade. The angel had instead choosen a seat far in the back but with the sun to his back to draw the least possible attention to himself. Before he allowed himself to take in the exquisite fascinating details of the human body he silently prayed that the human on the table had died a peaceful death. Immediately afterwards he got aboslutely giddy over getting to see the human brain.

The metal of the medical instruments glittered in the swelling summer sun shining in from the windows and as the lecturer and their assistants opened up the human bit by bit the white gloves and coats were stained red. The angel got a bit queasy at the sight of the limp stiffness of the human body as it was cut up. the gore had never bothered him as much as the reminder of death did, though the uncomfortable reminder was worth it if he could hear about how the intensitines, nerves and bones all worked together to create life.

The autopsy continued and the angel was furiously filling down notes, practically hanging onto every word the lecturer said, until suddenly his peace was destroyed when he caught the scent of a demon somewhere in the room. He sunk further down into his seat and tried to make himself as invisible as possible. The embarrssament of being caught in a place like this by a demon would be tortourous. He could already hear the snide remarks of how he shouldn't be in a gorey place like this as an innocent little Angel. As if any part of his guardian job would have left him innocent. Without him even noticing a dark glare had covered his face and his hand was writing with the pencil so hard it went through the paper.

"Won't the body like start to stink any second now?"

In horror the angel looked over to where the voice came from and saw a demon making themself comfortable on the seat right next to him. He didn't undertsnad what they said until they repeated themself in a human language he, in this case sadly, knew. The demon wiped down their sunglasses with the end of their shirt while babbling on.

"Like the meat in the market starts like stinking after a few minutes. And ugh with all the man sweat in this room too. I just flew in here to like cool down but instead I found the world's totally worst sauna huh" They put their glasses back on and looked over the angel's shoulder to try and read his notes "Ooooh myyyyy you are Not writing notes in fucking latin. That's sooo cute. Nerd!"

"Only the medical terms are in latin!" The angel corrected, snapping in a bit too loud tone. His cheeks turned red from embarrssment as he leant closer to his book.

"Bad move Angel. Now I know you understand what I'm saying-"

He pressed his hand over their mouth "Shhh!"

His face must have still been stuck in that glare because the demon smiled and relaxed into their seat. They rudely put their legs over the chair in front of them and sucked on a lollypop for the rest of the lecture but did not make another sound. Every time the angel looked over at them they were obviously staring at him taking notes instead of casting even a single glance on the autopsy, but at least he was left alone to revel in the lecture.

He noticed them particularly staring at his halo and he knew the angel's actual halos were far different from how humans pictured them. He didn't have human ears, instead his halo began where his ears should be and traveled up and around to meet above his head, forming a circle. It was as if a pair of demon horns were connected in the middle.

As soon as the autopsy was over and the other men started to leave the demon poked their head over to look at the angel's notes again before looking at him with their head tilted to the side. They put their hand on some of the top feathers on the angel's wings that made a shill run up his whole body.

"I've always like wondered since y'all angels dont ever like keep your wings inside they must be real cozy to sit with. Like a 24/7 backrest. They look sssooo fluffy"

In protest the angel grabbed ahold of the end of the demon's tail and waved it back and forth "Angels want their wings touched as much as your lot want your tails touched"

"I'm actually tots fine with it" They moved their tail to bop the angel's nose.

The angel was about to throw their tail away when he suddenly moved it up to his eyes and squinted "Are your tails covered in short fur!? I never notice- NEvermind! I don't care!" He threw their tail away and quickly started to pack up his things so he could leave and to his surprise the demon didn't try to continue babbling. He went towards the door but quickly noticed that the demon was flying right behind him, and they kept following him out into the corridor. They were letting their long boney wings completely carry them so they looked sort of like a cartoon character being hoisted by a balloon.

They were probably the most pathetic demon the angel had ever seen and he honestly heartfully didn't mean that in a rude way it was just that the demon looked like if someone had dunked an underweight kitten in a puddle and then put a silly little outfit on it. They were wearing boyish shorts with a vest thrown on over and a cap a few sizes too big for their head. At first he assumed it was thrown together in the dark until he realized the shirt under the vest and their socks had the exact same matching pattern. So they were just one of those types that put way too much effort into looking effortless. On second thought that should have been obvious by the fact that they were wearing the trendy new "sun-glasses". The angel still wasn't fully sure what those were.

The moment they were out of the view of any humans the Angel extended his wings and flew through an open window up into the sky until he was so far up there was no way any human would be able to hear them and he patiently waited for the demon to catch up to him so he could tell them off "Now listen here Mr. fancy sock-"

His words were interrupted by him letting out a slight gasp when the demon took off their cap and pressed it onto his head which made his curls fall in front of his eyes "Girl if you're gonna fly this high up you gotta protect your eyes" The angel looked back at the demon and another shudder went through his whole body. They had the sun against their back making the light shine between their horns like the signal of a lighthouse. They held out their hand "I'm Remy"

"I'm-"

"Oh right. You angels don't got names do you?"

"My current human calls me Paul"

Remy scoffed "You don't look like a Paul. You look like a………" They smiled so their nose wrinkled "You look pretty!" They gasped "Oh my gosh! Was your human the one being cut up!? Was that why you were in there!? Cause like it's sooo not an angel vibe which is why I like wondered what the fuck you were doing! Like girl you gotta understand I'm a succubus! Sex gets like sssooo boring and like predictable after a while! Like ugggh I know im hot and perfect and everyone wants me but it's sooo the same all the time but then I see a fucking weirdo like you doing some random shit and it's like !!! Exciting ! You like totally made my week- no like month bitch!"

Somewhere in the rant Remy had completely forgotten that they had even started it with a question.

The angel's eyes fixated on their short buzzcutted hair that stuck up from their scalp like the fuzz of a peach. He trailed down to their eyes that were blue not in the way ice was but in the way a bluebird's warm feathers were.

"I can't be fraternizing with a demon" The angel pressed out.

"'Course not! Which is why you won't be hanging out with me! You'll just be on your merry way home when the ssssuper evil and sinister demon decides to follow you and you're like totally none the wiser about it!" They tilted their head and smiled at him "Right?"

A sour lump slid down the angel's throat as they gulped before nodding.

The two of them stayed looking at each other for another few seconds before the angel without saying a word turned around and soared down to the ground. He began walking his usual path home, passing the usual stores and waving to the usual humans. Never once along the way did he so much as glance behind him but he could still feel the demon's eyes digging into his back.

A few streets away from the city center laid a house owned by an afluent family which the angel was renting the attic of. He kept his eyes steady in front of him as he went to the back of the house and climbed up the ladder to the entrance to the attic apartment but as he went inside he left the door agape behind him. With his back turned to the door he stopped a few steps into the room and listened to the slight creak of aging hinges as the demon followed him inside and closed the door behind them.

Almost immediately he heard the demon let out a laugh as they looked around his room "W-o-W! Okay girl I knew you were weird but no you're just like full on crazy huh. Do you describe yourself as a mad scientist or what"

They were looking with a half open mouth at the wall that the angel had put the biggest coarkboard he could find on. The board was divided into three distinct parts with letters spelling out 'Humans' on one part, 'Angels' on the next and 'Demons' on the last though. All over the board were bits of paper hung up or even tiny scribbled notes along with pages ripped straight from books and drawings of anatomy. The human anatomy was obviously professionally made and copied from books while the drawings of angels was amateurish. Pink string connected the different parts, with the different shades of pink leading to different parts.

The demon part of the board was obviously a lot more barren then the other two and the notes that were there had questions marks all over them.

The rest of the apartment was less eyecatching. On the opposite wall of the corkboard hung a line of nearly identical cardigans only differing in color along with matching ties and a metal framed bed had been shoved into the corner next to it. It was tidied up with a teddy bear laying tucked in under the cover. A bookcase was next to it filled to the brim with books in various human languages though because of the slanted roof several stacks of books had been forced to pile up on the floor instead with most of the floor ones being various human dictiornaties.

On the nightstand was the only electric lamp in the tiny place right next to a book that had become twice as thick because of all the notes the angel had put inside of it.

Remy laughed as they took one of the notes from the demon section and read it aloud "Demons lack stomaches ???" They looked to him "Girl where did you get this from?"

The angel sunk into himself "I had heard uhm you- well among other demons your- your type feed off of lust. I thought maybe you didn't need any place to store eaten food because of it....Unless by feeding off of lust you mean" He cut himself off and looked a little green.

"Like we meant it literally!? Like eating c- Ugh! That's nasty!"

They laughed again but noticed that the angel wasn't. They quickly pointed to a random part of the corkboard and tried to make their tone sound as genuine despite them being stuck in an evelasting sarcastic sounding vocal fry.

"What does this mean?"

His eyes immediately shone though the joy didn't quite reach his lips. Instead his feet tapped into the ground faster and faster as he started to speak "Oh that? That's actually a part of my hypothesis on how our species are connected- or not connected more like. Well obviously we are very different in how we function right? With you feeding off lust and us not having to sleep like humans do but on the outside we do look quite similar so I- I uhhh. I thought..."

The words faded in his mouth at the same time as his hands pulled at the long sleeves of his cardigan. His eyes lost the glister that had been there for just a few seconds and was replaced by his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

Remy clammered for words "You're right! We do like totally look similar! If only there was like some sort of explanation for why.....??"

"Well.....Well I had this idea that....You know birds?"

"Like Personally? No"

The angel shuffled around some of the excess papers scattered around the board and pulled out a drawing of a peacock that had seemingly been traced from a book and then colored by the angel himself.

"Birds have evolved to have colorful feathers to entice partners to them, I thought perhaps demons have evolved similarly to mirror what humans find attractive and us angels have obviously mirrored what humans find friendly and trustful"

"Uhu uhu" Since Remy's hair was too short to twirl they were twirling their tail around their finger instead.

"That's why the humans can't see our horns either I assume. They must be scary to the human mind- Speaking of horns! I have this other theory that uhm that our horns-"

"Our horns?" Remy tried to tease it out of him.

"....Uhhm i don't think our horns are filled with keratine like most animal horns are- Uh keratine is- it's sort of hollow I guess in other terms I mean. But our" He lightly knocked his horn against the demon's who imeediately scrunched up their nose and shook their head "You felt a tinge of pain right?"

"YEah. You trying to to turn me on or something-"

"NO! I meant to show that- Uh- That-" The angel got so flustered he lost his words which Remy found adorable "That I think that on the inside of our horns we must have nerve tissue at the very least, probably even some blood or fat tissue"

"makes tooots sense Angel" They pointed to another random note "What about this?"

"Oh!" His hand began to flap with immense speed "I was going to ask you about that! See both guardian angels and humans start as children- I mean I have heard that humans are" He put his hand over his chest "....Born...?" A shiver went through him "But- Ugh that's another tagnent for some other time! We both start as children and we learn our languages gradually but I undertsnad it as you starting as adults no?"

"Yuuh. We start at liiiikkke 20issh"

"Then do you still learn your language gradually or is it already instilled in you from bi- uh creation?"

They squinted "Uhhh pretty sure it was like" They knocked against their skull "All in there. Only our language though. I had to learn human languages all by myself"

He hurried to scribble it down onto a piece of paper and while he was occupied the demon took the oppurtunity to lay down in his bed and stretch out so that their joints creaked. In responde the angel set the things on the nightstand aside so he could use it as a makeshift chair to avoid sitting on the same bed as them. The demon playfully poked their tail against his ankle.

"You mind if I sleep here?"

The angel took the teddy bear away and closely held it to his chest "...I didn't think your type had to sleep"

"I mean like we don't but I got a physical as fuck job and I've been up all night working. Whats a demon gotta do to get some rest!?" He once again scribbled something down and the demon added with grin "Oh and also we eat rats. We demons I mean. We just love slurping down on some nice rats at the end of the day" They lied.

The angel looked up at him with a wide eyed stare that made the demon break out into a laugh.

"...You may sleep here..." The angel mumbled while glancing away "...But only if I may-" He pulled up the book that had been laying on the nightstand and shoved it right up against Remy's face "INTERPRET YOUR DREAMS!!!"

"Huh?"

"The intepretation of dreams by Sigmund Freud!!" His legs kicked around and his wings fluttered a little "It's a part of this thing called psychology! The brain is the organ with the most nerves in the body don't you know, imagine how much- I can explain later- Though obviously I would love to have a word about some of mr. Freud's theories. Some of them simply don't have any proper evidence, not to even speak of being peer reviewed! He lives in the city! It would be- Oh gosh! Sorry you were going to sleep"

Remy smiled and the angel thought that the tiny gropes they got in their cheeks were pretty.

"It's okay. I like your voice"

He scrunched his nose "What do you mean by that"

"Hey now, just 'cause I'm a succubi doesn't make everything I say autimatically horny. I'm just saying I like your voice. It's soft, good for nighttime radio" They yawned before turning to sleep "See you soon Angel"

"..Yeah....Goodnight"

The angel was left sitting in his apartment that all of a sudden felt changed in every way as it filled with the soft sounds of the demon snoring. He carefully laid a blanket over them before sitting down to reread parts of the book.

July 1921

"Can you expand your wings now please"

Remy was laying shirtless on their stomach on the angel's bed while the angel stared at their back with a magnifying glass. They got goosebumps all along their back as soon as his warm hands touched their skin. They had seen the gentle way he picked up his teddy bear, his books, hell even when he took out the trash he carried it with care and now he touched their back with that same care so that he could study how their skin moved when they let their wings out.

They waited to retract them until they had heard the angel finish writing in his notebook "Just as I thought, the skin on your back is especially loose so that it can stretch to fit around your shouldblades when they open to become wings..I must admit it looks a lot more gross than our fluffy fine wings!"

"Big agree" Remy replied before shoving their head straight into his wings so their whole face disappeared into it.

The angel let out a big gasp and flapped his wings to get them away "You can put your shirt back on now"

"Nah I feel nice like this"

"....." The angel glanced at them before quickly looking down into the floor "Anyhow. I uh I have to go check up on my human so- uh I suppose if you're tired you can sleep here if you want but I have to go-"

"Can I come with?"

"What if someone sees us? GOSH! Why am I even considering it!? You're only going to try and turn my human wicked!"

"I can like follow you like we did the first time we met. Duuuh!"

"You're not talking to my human!"

They threw their hands up "Sure. Sure. prommy. I just wanted to hang out with my Angel buddy anyway"

He pouted but gave in when Remy smiled at him ".....Fine"

After the angel had thought long and hard on which cardigan to wear they left with the demon following him a few metres behind. The walk felt longer than it ever had felt until eventually he couldn't take the silence any longer and stopped to let the demon catch up to him. Remy stood with their hands in their pockets and blew a gum bubble while waiting for the angel to speak.

"She's quite lonely. My human. Her death is a few years away, it will be a sudden illness from a minor infection. She will only suffer for a bit under a week before dying" The words spilled out of him all at once. "She enjoys boardgames"

"Aww. You friends?"

"I'm her only friend and she's my only..." He hesitated "She was my only friend. My humans are always my only friends. No reason to get too chummy with anyone else, especially not when my humans don't live long"

The gum bubble poppped "Weird. Guardian angels like you live on earth full time??? You dont go sleep in heaven like we do?? I had just like assumed you were super close to like humans and human culture 'cause of it. Is- Is those freaky science books the closest you get to human culture?"

"It interests me!"

"Girl we have got to change that! You can't let a demon go around knowing more about human culture than you! Think of how many pooor humans I can corrupt with that knowledge!"

"...After work Meet you here in a few hours?"

Remy let up into a grin "Scared of showing me where your human lives huh. You think I'm that good at seducing?"

"I- I am not taking my chances"

"Sure" They blew another bubble and popped it "See you"

The meeting with his human went well or at least she seemed happy to see him. They played chess for a few hours while her pastries baked in the oven. Her husband was away for the time being working hard in the newly opened automobile factories and though the angel didn't know much about engineering he listened to her trying to explain the concept of a car.

Her husband being away was the main reason he went to see her so often. He feared that if she became completely alone she would seek out extramarital affairs and he couldn't let her fall like that.

When he left she insisted on him taking one of her pastries with him and though he wasn't much of an eater of human food he went along for her sake. Out of nowhere he asked for a second pastry and she smiled softly and jokingly asked if he was finally courting someone.

Remy was waiting on the same street but they had found time to completely change clothes into a sparkly dress that stopped around their knees and a hat. as soon as they saw him round the corner they started waving their arm.

"ANGEL! ANGEL!" They grabbed onto his shoulders "I am about to show you something like sssooo cool. You're gonna love it!"

"I got you a pastry" He interrupted.

"Oh" It caught them so off guard they just stared at the pastry bag for a few seconds before murmuring "Aw that's so sweet"

On the walk to whereever the demon was taking him they ate both of the pastries and made the angel promise to tell his human that 'A friend' highly sent their regards.

As the first hints of evening came knocking they arrived at the destination and the angel realized in horror he had been taken to a place of dancing. Even worse than simply that, even from outside the white painted doors he could hear jazz!

Just like any new artform that cropped up he was vary of it until he had heard definitely from the higher ups if it was sinful or not and they hadn't quite figured out where on the sin spectrum jazz belonged yet. Though he had heard rumors from humans he had passed by that jazz and the dances it inspired was marks of the devil!

He looked over to see the demon light a cigarette and sit down on the grass near the dancing place "Yeah I thought you'd react like that. Let's like give it this cig time for you to calm down and then we can try to go inside. it's fun I promise. And not sexual or like devious or nothing"

"Uhm..mhh" He sat down beside them and moved his wings around himself so the smoke didn't reach his nose.

He counted the pairs of shoes walking in and out from the dancing hall and gulped at how many humans were losing their place in heaven. He didn't dare to look at any of their faces in case he would tear up from the tragedy.

Remy pressing the cigarette into the ground and twisting it around and around until the last few sparks disappeared made the angel flinch for some reason he couldn't explain. They leant in and stroked a few feathers to the side to get a better look at him before tilting their head in an unspoken question.

The angel's eyes filled with tears "I can't do it. I can't go inside"

"That's okay" They lightly rubbed their thumb under his eyes to make the tears go away "I'll figure something else out. I'll help you home"

August 1921

A knock came on the window of the attic which disrupted the angel in his reading. At first he feared it was a bird having mistakenly fleed into it but when he looked up he saw the by now familiar face of the demon. They mimed for him to open the window which he did after putting his teddy bear away so they wouldn't fall asleep cuddling it like they had last time.

"AAAAANGEL! You're never gonna believe what I got. It is sssoooo in right now! Okay okay pull up the nightstand and then close your eyes okay? I got it right outside"

The angel complied and placed the nightstand in the middle of the tiny room and waited while hearing Remy pull something heavy into the room while snickering to themself.

His breathe hitched in his throat when the demon without warning placed their hands over his closed eyes and pressed their chest close to his back. He wondered if they could feel his eyeslashes flutter against their palms.

"Alright! Open up!"

They moved their hands aside and the angel saw a large gramophone on the nightstand with a carboard box filled with records sitting on the floor next to it. Remy excitedly watched for his reaction.

"...Did you steal it?"

The demon leant forward so far they could nearly touch their toes as they let out a saddened sigh before pulling themself up again "I'm a fucking succubi not a steal-shit-ubi. I was thinking that like if the dancing hall is too much for you I could bring it to you instead" They shimmied their shoulders "Have a little like dance of our own"

The angel fiddled with his feet so the tips of his socks curled "It's a nice thought.....That place was very loud...."

"Suuper nice! I got all kinds of jazz for you to choose from. I was thinking James reese could be a good start. All the rage right now but it's not too like scandalous or nothing"

He stood still frozen in fear as the demon picked out a record and got the gramophone working. The machine shook into life and started spitting out sounds of a lone trumpet soon followed by a whole band of instruments. Remy smiled at him and he thought that if he didn't move it wouldn't count as him doing something wrong.

"You look like you've seen a ghost" Remy briefly pressed their hand to his forehead "You're not sick are you. C'mon let's loosen up!"

His mouth opened but he couldn't get any words out even as Remy clearly waited for him to respond but when none came they turned off the music using their tail. As soon as it stopped it felt like the angel was allowed to breathe again.

"Okay girlie y'know what we should do instead? I like suck ass at reading so like how about you read for both of us with your pretty lil radio voice" They scratched under his chin while saying it.

"..That....That sounds nice..Do you want to hear a bit more about psychology?"

"Whatever you want Angel" They replied while making themself comfortable on his bed.

The angel took out a book that made a whole row of the stacked bookcase spill over onto each other before sitting down on the bed so his feet laid where the demon's head was (sitting next to each other could be sinful) and began reading aloud. He felt the demon lightly tickle the soles of his feet with their tail and it was the only part of them moving. They had cupped their hands over their stomach and had closed their eyes though he could see their eyelids flutter showing their eyes moving rapidly underneath as if they were hanging onto every word he spoke.

A week later the angel returned home with the weight of the ocean atop his shoulders making him slump down on the floor as soon as he had closed the door. It was exactly 3 years until his human would die and the entire day while playing chess and helping her fold her laundry it was the only thing he could think of.

The gramophone was still sitting in the middle of his room and it caught his eye. He quietly crawled on his knees up to it and took out one of the records the demon had left behind. Unknowingly he picked one with both blues and jazz on it and as he put it on the sollem music was comforting somehow.

He didn't dance, he was afraid too even breathe too loudly in case someone from above was watching him, but he sat on the floor of the attic and was embraced by the music.

November 1921

"Hey Angel!"

He let out a high pitched scream when the demon suddenly soared down in front of him right as he was about to go buy tea. They let out a cloud of cigarette smoke at the same time as their wings reverted back down under their skin.

"You busy?"

Something about the way the demon's eyes were red made him gasp out a white lie "No. Not at all. Want to come in?"

For the first time he noticed that the demon had to duck to even get through the door and he chuckled to himself. Remy took off their hat and used it as a makeshift ashtray while swinging their legs up on the nightstand.

"Put on some Bessie Angelcakes!"

The angel watched them lean their head back and blow out another puff of smoke before putting on the record and sitting down next to them. Wordleesly they moved their tail around his waist and rested their cheek against his shoulder. He coughed from the smoke to which the demon mumbled a sorry.

"I think me and my boyfriend are breaking up again" They muttered.

"That is..." He pursed his lips "....Good..Right?"

"Yeaaaah probably. We're not working. But" They pouted while shaking their shoulders around "The sex is so good though!! You angels don't live like monks do you? You gotta like understand somewhat"

"Obviously we can't date humans"

"Obviously"

"But I do know some guardian angels who have married each other. I don't know if they have- have done what you do-"

"Had sex?"

"Uhm yeah that. Personally I find it hard to find angels to be with even in a platonic sense. With us having to move perhaps entire continents every time our human dies and- well- I guess I'm not a good example. I know there are other angels in this town, they just don't want to talk to me after I started telling them about" He motioned towards the corkboard where the demon section had become increasingly filled out.

"I like talking to you"

"Oh gosh does that make me demonic!?"

"nah nah. Girl you're fine" Remy patted their tail against the top of his halo. "You're perfectly fine"

The angel watched them put out the cigarette against the hardwood floor and patted the traces of smoke out with their hand before settling to stare out into space. He wasn't sure if they had ever told him how long they had dated this boyfriend but he saw them sniffle and force a sneeze so they could have an excuse to wipe their face with the back of their hand.

"...Do you want to dance?" The angel asked which made Remy turn their head in surprise.

"Sure...Sure yeah of course. Do you know how-"

He stood up and placed a record on the gramophone before they had had time to finish the question. They turned around to help the demon up on their feet.

"Guess you will have to shove me" The angel replied.

The demon kept his hand in theirs as they showed him how to move his feet to do the charleston. His feeble attempt at mimicking them made them burst out into laughter to the point of their eyes tearing up before they settled on introducing him with a simpler move.

November 1923

The corkboard had become the corkboards, plural, and every single inch of them were covered in notes written in both the angel's neatly cursive handwriting and the demon's chicken scratch.

The chicken scratch had been something that interested the angel greatly at the moment. It wasn't a demon trait that Remy had a hard time placing letters where they should be, nor was it an intelligence problem that words on a page tumbled and fell into disorder when they tried to read it. Right now their shared theory was that Remy had been made to pander to human who liked the 'stupid' type. Bimbos in modern terms. and to reach the illusion of a stupid slut they had been created to have a hard time reading and writing. Once again using modern times, something akin to dyslexia.

Still the angel didn't mind and they certaintly didn't mind the many nights the demon came knocking on his window with their clothes wrinkled from work and their tail dragging behind them. They would lay down on the bed beside him after putting on a record and make themself comfortable against his shoulder or with their head buried against his pillows and teddy bear. It didn't matter what book he was reading they simply enjoyed hearing his voice.

The times when he was writing they laid quietly and watched the movements of the pen strokes. They didn't read what he was writing, watching the motions was enough.

It was a night like that when Remy was close to slumbering against his arm that the mumbled "Mind if I sleep over for a few nights in like a row Angel? It's like tottttallly awkward in hell right now. Don't wanna like return immediately"

"Did another boyfriend materialise when I wasn't looking" He teased back.

"Cooouuurse not. No but really not this time"

"Do you owe someone an awkward favor?"

They snickered so their nose wrinkled "Nah. I fucked my boss or like manager or whatever you angels call them now again"

"YOu- That can not be a good workplace dynamic!"

"It's finnneeeeee. I got more proof for your theory by the way cause like my managers not a succubus and he doesnt work with humans like at all and he hasnt like mimicked the human look like we have"

The angel fought between his curiosity to hear more and his strong sense of workplace justice. If he had been born a human he would have been a union man. He closed the book he had been reading and set it aside.

"Like he got 6 arms!" Remy continued "Course im not against finding out with what he can do with all them. And his genitals!? I mean!??? Remind me to not sit up straight any time soon cause I think my back will implo-"

"I don't need that many details"

"Well you're talking to me so girl you're getting them" They shrugged "But like I dont got the hots for him. If I did I would have tried to bang him earlier. He was just acting all pissy and telling me to stay after our like monthly meeting and he was going off on me for spending so much time on earth without spending all that time seducing humans so I like used what I have- sex- to like make him look the other way" Remy bonked their head against his "So I can keep spending time with my fav lil angel buddy"

"You don't have to do that"

"But I would miss you"

The angel parsed his lips before closing them again and turning away. He thought to say that he would be gone in a year anyway when his human died and that Remy shouldn't bother but the words died on his tongue.

Instead he scratched at his wrists and felt a feeling pass by that he knew he wasn't allowed to feel about them. "Want to dance?"

"Saarey girl I'm just tired. Once I've napped kay?"

"Sure"

Remy reached up and booped him on the cheek "Now tell me about Pavlov again. Hearing bout it helps me sleep for some fucking reason"

"Oh...I actually have a explanation for that. You see-"

Exactly a month afterwards the demon barged in (by now the angel had given them their own key) just as tired as a month ago and he didn't even have to guess what the reason was since they immediately splayed out on the bed and loudly complained about how much their jaw hurt.

June 1924

The angel had taken to sketching the demon while they slumbered. It had grown from his amateur attempts at drawing anatomy for his beloved boards and it did still frustrate him that he was unable to fully replicate his friend's gorgeous figure but the frustration was outweighted by the relaxing feeling he got from feeling the pen strokes.

He focused on the slender curve of the demon's shoulder as it connected to their side and ended at their waist. The blanket laid twisted up around their feet and the short hair that had grown out stuck to the pillow. They snored like a sailor.

He could always tell whether they were dating someone at the moment or not depending on how skinny they were. It made a sort of sense that they would feed more if they were with somene they loved. At the moment their shoulder blades stuck out like jagged knives and their hip bone was ever so slightly visible through their underwear.

Suddenly the snoring stopped and the demon turned towards him while grogily wiping their eyes. They obviously saw his drawing before he had a chance to put the notebook away and while his cheeks turned red hot their eyes instantly went from an inch open to wide and their pupils huge.

"BITCH IS THAT ME!? I LOOK SO GOOD!"

"No. No. See this is Remy the nice angel obviously" He drew a line between their horns connecting it into a halo "See?"

"Aw damn I look even hotter as an angel!" They managed to take the book from him and flipped through the many pages of sketches of them, some made from memory but a lot of them sleeping "I didn't know you liked this stuff" They changed to a teasing tone "Am I your musssseeee?"

He blushed "Nooo. I am simply ever curious of different species' nature. As you know"

"I know something you'll like then! I never though of showing you but there is this- Ugh hard to explain. I'll show you! At the cinema! It involves music sometimes!"

He tilted his head down so he got a double chin "We shouldn't leave my apartment too often-"

"GIIIrl we like never do!! C'mon I'll follow you behind like always! Proomy!- Or wait if you dont know the way then I guess you gotta follow me for once, get some like good work out of those wings!"

They put their hands right into his wings and fluffed them up until his feathers stuck out like a baby birds but right after they smiled at him so the slight gap between their top teeth showed and suddenly the angel swore his sight tinted pink.

"...Okay"

"Sick! Just follow me!"

What the demon had managed to get him into was seeing the latest animated shorts at the cinema, Betty boop, Koko the clown, the alice comedies from Walt Disney. Things Remy had witnessed before but the angel was sitting at the edge of his seat the entire time.

It was lucky that there were only a few other people at the cinema because the angel couldn't physically stop himself from gasping and squeaking and even shaking Remy around and pointing at the screen at certain times. He smiled like they usually only saw him smile when he talked about his psychology theories.

When they left the cinema the angel was happy flapping his wings so rapidly that his toes lifted from the ground.

"THAT WAS AMAZING- AND DID YOU SEE WHEN- AND THE MOVEMENT- THE CREATIVITY- AND HOW- WOW-" A full body shudder went through him "Truly spectacular!"

"Yeah yeah. Well" Remy fiddled with their long slender fingers "Well then we can go see more animation shorts like next week right?"

His wings stopped right in a motion making him suddenly come back down to earth again so dust got knocked up around his feet "My human dies at the end of the week. She will get the wound that will lead to the infection tomorrow"

The demon's expression changed in instant. It wasn't anger nor confusion. It was simple aboslute heartbreak

"...And..And you didn't think to tell me!? Until now!? You- Were you just planning on disappearing on me!?-"

"Sooner or later we would go our different ways"

"I THOUGHT IN LIKE 50 YEARS OR HOWEVER LONG HUMANS LIVE! NOT NOW!" Remy held their arms around themself and sunk their nails down into their arsm until the skin broke apart "I- I've been fucking my boss to keep being with you and you- you can't even tell me in advance that you- That you're leaving me- I- I though we had something-"

"We were never supposed to have something"

"BUT WE DO! AND YOU WENT ALONG WITH US HAVING SOMETHING!" Their voice turned thick with tears.

"We still have time to meet up again and say goodbye!"

"Say goodbye..." They repeated as their voice broke "I- I. I'm not doing this"

They threw off their jacket so that they could spread their wings and turned to fly away when they smacked their lips and held up their finger as they looked back at him with a furious look.

"ActuallY! Angel! It's no wonder no other angel wants to be near you or that you don't have any actual frinds! 'Cause all this time I have been the only one choosing to come to you and I've been the one putting in all of the work to even fucking talk to you! You've never gone to see me! You've never even cared that much have you!? You're a bad friend! Of course you're alone as hell! And of course you're gonna stay that way!"

Remy didn't give the angel a chance to respond, instead immediately fleeing into the night, while he was left on the ground.

August 1924

It was the night before his human would die. He could practically see the clock ticking down every time he closed his eyes. 8 hours. 7 hours. 6 and a half.

He knew he should be by her side for the last few hours, aside from her husband who had hurried home to her the angel was her only friend. But before that he had to pack the few things he could bring with him to his new human. He would be called up to heaven only a few minutes after the death after all so the only things he could bring was the ones that could fit in a backpack.

The teddy bear came along of course as well as the stacks of notes he had written together with- The notes he had written about their different species. Only his most treasured and well annotated books could follow along and he simply had to hope that he would be able to buy the rest again at whatever place his next human lived.

The backpack was nearly full, the only thing that might be able to fit would be...He turned to look at the records sitting leant against the gramophone...Maybe he could bring one of his favorite record's, some blues for him to listen to on a lonely night. Like every night.

Or he could bring one of Remy's favorite.

Or he could...

Before he had even dared to finish the thought his wings had already began to flutter before fully flapping away to the point that they were basically dragging him on his knees towards the door. He pretended to fight back against the pull of the wings but secretly he was fully aware that his wings wouldn't do anything he didn't intimiately want to do as well.

The angel soared out into the darkening night sky and flew high above the busy city streets searching for a familiar face in the crowd but he saw not a glimpse of the demon's blue horns.

Instead he pivoted to searching in places he knew the demon frequented. he flew to the cinema, to a public park where musicians would play, to the alleys near bars. But still no sight of them.

There was one place he hadn't dared go to yet and even the thought made him shake but still he forced himself towards the dancing hall Remy had taken him right at the beginning of their friendship. The place he to this day still hadn't been able to get himself to take a single step into.

As usual it was buzzling with people and the music's brass horns and swinging trumpets could be heard from a mile away.

His knees felt weak as soon as he landed on the ground and he desperately hoped that Remy would come wandering out from the entrance but all he saw was strangers.

He paced back and forth debating with himself. Taking a few steps closer to the entrance then immediately backing again.

Every time a human so much as grazed against him by mistake he flinched and hid away behind a dumpster until he had pooled together enough courage to go back to pacing.

A half hour must have gone by in indecesivness.

Until finally he gulped and tensed his hands into fists and stormed inside so fast that he didn't have a chance to talk himself out of it. Instantly the music mixed with the crowd's chattering hit his ears like a typhoon hitting a single tree right as the bright lights burst against his eyes like a bull stepping on a bee.

He was trembling with every step he took, feeling his way through the disorienting crowd, with tears already welling up into his eyes because of the overstimulation.

He was close to turning back and running because all the people blurred together so surely he wouldn't be able to make out if Remy even was there when he caught a glance of a pair of blue horns sticking up from above the crowd.

Aimleesly he pressed himself through people towards the horns until he broke through the crowd and saw his friend standing beside some human.

For the first time in his life a human seemed nonimportant as all he could do was pull Remy into a warm embrace and immediately begin sobbing into their chest.

"Hey- Hey Angel"

Remy placed their hand against his back while their eyes looked them up and down in disbelief. Even their voice sounded caught off guard.

They said something to the human that made them leave but the angel couldn't quite make it out. All he could focus on was Remy's hand against his back gently guiding him out of there as the demon pushed them both towards the exit.

Even when the cold night air breezed across his face he still found it hard to breathe for many minutes afterwards. The demon asked him over and over if he was okay, if he could breathe, if he was sick, but he couldn't answer aside from sobs. The demon guided him to a nearby bench and waited as he continued to wail and shake from worry whether Heaven had seen him go into that place or not.

The demon kicked their feet while waiting for him to calm down but instead the angel leant in for another hug and rubbed his forehead against their shoulder.

"Remy I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't tell you" He kept his arms wrapped around their waist as he looked up at them and begged "Can't you come along with me? Let's run away together! I- I- After I learn where my next human lives I can fly all the way here and come get you!"

The demon's bottom lip trembled "You want me to just pack up and leave my entire life FOR YOU!? Has it ever like occured to you I stay in this town for other reasons than you!? That I have other people I care about but you!? That I can't just leave like you can apparently!"

"But- But- You mean this is just goodbye?"

Remy's expression crumbled and they let out their wings just so they could shield themself and force him to back off "I...I dunno"

"You're my best friend"

"......I'm like sorry bout what I said too....But I can't just like leave..."

The silence between them pressed on until it got hard to breathe again.

Until ever so slightly Remy retracted their wings and without looking towards him they reached out and laid their hand on top of his.

"...But that doesn't mean I don't wanna like keep talking to you" They admitted, voice quiet and meek.

The angel reached out his wing and moved it around the demon, embracing them with all the fluffy feathers they would ever want "How about we keep contact without you leaving?"

"What?"

"I know you don't have an adress but you can take over my apartment, at least so that I can send letters to you-"

"You know I'm not that good with the whole writing thing"

"I don't care as long as it's written by you. I don't want to lose you completely"

Remy turned to look at him "So...How do you think it will like work?"

"Well...My human dies tonight and then I get sent to my new place and as soon as I get there I promise I will write a letter with my new adress so you can send things back to me"

They leant in and pressed their forehead against his before murmuring "Imma come visit you Angel"

He smiled "I hope so"

"I promise so. Now" Remy pressed a short kiss to the angel's cheek that left him reeling "You got a dying human to support! And you've done your job like sssuuper well so don't even like worry about her going down to my place! She's gonna get a great afterlife! So like write and then- Then someday we will like see each other again- I hope"

The angel had to fight against another wave of sobs as he forced out "I'll see you later"

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #remile #emile picani #cartoon therapy #remy sanders #what if you were an asexual succubus wouldnt that be fucked up or what

5 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

Text

Flicker

Prompt: Hello again! 😅 im sorry for asking another question so soon after you had just uploaded a chapter of Embrace Of Darkness on my idea before but i couldn’t help but wonder…

Do Roman and the others have birthdays the same as humans?

And if they don’t, can you do a chapter on how Roman discovers that humans have celebrations for theirs and in turn, ask Patton what his ‘day of manifestation’ is? (Yes that’s how I think he would word it about.) and then maybe ask why he didn’t tell Roman sooner and then in turn celebrate it with him and maybe all the others?

You can completely ignore this if you are sick of writing more chapters for this story, 😂 I understand that it was supposed to be only a one shot.

Thank you for reading and have a good day! - anon

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: ptsd, flashback, nightmares

Pairings: focus on royality but dlampr

Word Count: 4579

Humans are such...fascinating. And so emotional, aren't they? Unfortunately for Patton, some creatures that don't understand emotions want to...experiment.

Humans can be so fragile.

...and capable of a kind of strength those creatures could only dream of.

“Hello, pet.”

Patton jerks, his limbs suddenly caught up in shackles, strung out into the vastness of space. Pain lances through his arms and he cries out, jerking against the chains. “What—what—“

Something massive looms out of the darkness in front of him, pain crackling along his legs as it does. “Did you think you could ever truly escape me, pet? You are mine, you were mine first, nothing will stop you from being mine.”

No. No, that’s not true, Roman came and saved him. He got away, he got away—

“Oh, were you thinking of this pathetic thing?”

Some of the darkness swirls aside and Patton’s eyes widen as he sees a broken and bloodied form. It’s Roman—or it’s Roman’s human form, he’s hurt…

“How pitiful,” the beast sneers, “for an Eldritch to limit itself so, to debase itself so…an affront to every one of us.”

“No—Roman—Roman—!”

“Nothing will save you now, pet,” the darkness snarls and rushes for him, jaws about to—

“Brave one?”

Patton’s eyes fly open, bolting upright. A hand scrabbles over his chest, trying to get free, trying to make it stop—

“Shh, shh, brave one,” the voice murmurs again as something warm drapes itself against his back, “it’s alright, brave one, I have you, you’re alright, I’m not going anywhere.”

His wings twitch. Right, he has wings. He’s…he’s got wings because Roman took the energy that was in him and turned it into something that wouldn’t hurt anymore, Roman has him, Roman’s alright, Roman…

“R-Roman?”

“I’m here.”

Roman’s face swims into view in front of him, coming closer until it’s no longer blurry. His features are awash with obvious concern, carefully stroking the side of Patton’s cheek to—to—

Oh. He’s crying.

“You were calling out for me,” Roman murmurs, indicating his position on the bed, “I…I didn’t want to disturb you without your permission, but…”

Patton shakes his head wordlessly, clutching at Roman’s hands to keep him here. He leans close enough to bump his head into the crook of Roman’s neck and Roman’s sigh ruffles the top of his hair.

“Oh, sweet one, it’s alright. You’re alright, Patton, it’s okay now.”

His breath is still coming in great shuddering gasps and Roman lets out a sympathetic noise, arms going around him to coax him into a more comfortable position, his chin hooked over Roman’s shoulder.

“There you are,” Roman whispers, “right here, brave one, I have you. You can feel me, see? I’m breathing, just as you are, I’m alright, you’re alright, we’re both right here.”

“Did you—“ Patton swallows roughly— “did you see?”

“See what, brave one, your nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“No, my sweet one, I can’t do that unless I go into your mind.” Roman tightens his grip a little. “I…well, when you called my name, you sounded as if you were worried for me.”

Patton’s knuckles whiten as he grips Roman’s shirt. “You were hurt. You were—you looked like you were dead. And—and I was—“

The acrid taste of fear surges over his tongue and makes him retch. Roman soothes him with a hand on his back, rumbling softly.

“I’m alright, brave one,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to press a kiss to Patton’s temple, “see? Touch me, listen to me, I’m alright. I’m right here.”

Slowly, Patton’s hands slide over Roman’s shoulders, over his neck, down to his chest. A heartbeat, stronger and slower than a human’s, but very much there nonetheless. Roman smiles, covering Patton’s hands with his.

“Can you feel that, brave one?”

“You’re…you’re okay.”

“Yes, brave one, good job. I’m okay.” A kiss, warm and soft, brushed against his forehead. “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

The last of the tension begins to bleed from Patton’s shoulders, leaving him exhausted and trembling. “I really hate nightmares.”

“I can only imagine.” Roman reaches out to coax him into lying back down. “Do you think you can get back to sleep?”

Patton shakes his head, still clutching at Roman’s shirt.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Please?”

“It would be my pleasure, brave one.” Roman lies down next to him, opening his arms. “Would you like to come and lay on me?”

“Can I?”

“Of course, brave one. Come, come now…there. May I move your arm? Yes, just like that, thank you. Would you like your wings groomed?”

Patton nods, closing his eyes as Roman’s fingers begin to card through the feathers. They just did this a few days ago, there’s not really any need for it, but the sensations that buzz up and down his back do wonders to distract him from the lingering vestiges of the nightmare.

“…R’man?”

“Hmm?”

“I haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while,” he mumbles, letting his eyes drift closed, “why…why’d I have one now?”

Roman sighs, paying attention to a spot just below Patton’s wing joint. “I don’t know, brave one. Humans….human brains are complicated. It could be that you’re still trying to…process it.”

“But I don’t want to process it, I want it gone.”

“I’m sure you know it’s not that simple.” Roman chuckles as Patton whines and buries his face in his neck. “Oh, come now, brave one…”

“I’m tired and I just had a nightmare, I can whine about it.”

“You most certainly can.” Roman’s fingers scribble lightly over the sensitive spot on his back and he yelps. “Just as I can do my best to distract you from it.”

“That’s not fair!”

“It’s not my fault you’re all soft and sweet when you’re sleepy.” Still, he rubs firmly over the spots as an apology. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, brave one. I wish I could make them go away forever, but I can’t.”

Patton nuzzles into his shoulder. “I know. ’S okay. It’s only been…”

He trails off.

“Wait, how long have I been here?”

“You know that me and mortal conceptions of time are not exactly on the same page, sweet one.”

“How many sunrises has it been?”

Roman thinks for a moment. “About…a hundred, I believe.”

A hundred sunrises…a hundred days….

“Oh, oh, dear—“ Roman’s arms tighten around him as Patton’s eyes well up once more— “did I say something to upset you, brave one? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t cry, my sweet one, please—“

“N-no,” Patton manages to sob out, “n-no, it’s not—it’s not your fault, I just—I jus’—“

“Can I sit us up, Patton?” Patton nods and Roman moves them, shifting until Patton’s in his lap and curling an arm around his shoulders. “What’s the matter, brave one?”

Patton wipes at his face. “I jus’—just didn’t realize it was—that it had been that long.”

“And that upset you?”

Patton nods. “I didn’t—I guess I didn’t realize—realize how much I…I…”

Roman holds him gently, rubbing his back with a soothing hand.

Patton sniffles. “I did miss things about being there, you know? When I was—before I—“

He takes a deep breath.

“And I think…I think I missed my birthday.”

“Birth…day,” Roman says slowly, as if testing the word on his tongue, “the day that you were born? It’s a—from what I understand, it’s a celebration, yes?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

A sad smile and Roman shakes his head. “In…days long before your birthday, when—forgive me, how much did you study about Eldritch?”

“A fair bit, why?”

“What do you know of sacrificial rituals?”

“Uh…some?”

Roman nods. “In the days of those rituals, humans would wait until their sacrifices had reached a certain age. A certain number of…birthdays. Although would I be correct in saying that birthdays exist in a much…broader capacity?”

“Yeah, they’re not all about getting one step closer to a sacrifice, that’s for sure.”

“I’m glad.” Roman reaches up and runs his fingers through Patton’s hair. “What did you miss, then, about celebrating your birthday in the place where you studied?”

Patton closes his eyes, thinking back. Memories of laughter swirl about, of smiling faces and warm voices. Of soft sunlight coming through frosty windows, lying on day-warmed blankets and listening as the birds call out to each other.

“I miss…I miss spending time with people I care about,” he mumbles eventually, “and…and the people who care about me. I miss being able to laugh about nothing in particular and…and all the stupid things that we thought were so interesting.”

“Like…?”

“Oh, I don’t know, one of them would be reading a new book in the library and would come up with this ridiculously specific fact and it was just—I don’t know why, we’d all be laughing even though it wasn’t that funny.”

Roman smiles. “Is that your favorite part?”

“I liked the weather too. It was—my birthday was right around the new year—for mortal calendars, anyway, and it was nice to see the snow and run around in it.”

“Snow, yes…”

“In the winter, when it’s cold—“

“I know what snow is,” Roman says with a faint bit of amusement, “I was…simply wondering something.”

“What?”

“If you wanted to celebrate your birthday,” Roman asks softly, “would you like that?”

“I—how?”

“However you like. I did think that it might be nice too—if you wanted—“ Roman waves his hand at the door— “I know you like the outside the way it is, but if you wanted it to change the way seasons do—“

“Yes,” Patton says eagerly before Roman can finish, “yes, yes, please, I—I would like that.”

Roman chuckles. “Not now, little one, you’re still tired.”

“No, I’m not, I’m fi—“

Of course, a massive yawn cuts him off as Roman carefully lies them back down. He cards a hand through Patton’s hair.

“Sleep, my brave one,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to his cheek, “we’ll see about it in the morning.”

—————

When Patton wakes up, Roman isn’t in the bed. He flaps around, trying to see if he’s just moved out of reach, when he hears a chuckle coming from the window.

“Hush, brave one,” Roman murmurs, taking his hand as he opens his eyes, “I’m right here.”

“You left,” Patton mumbles, only half-acting his betrayal, as Roman presses a kiss to the back of his hand.

“I did, and I apologize, but I promise I didn’t go far.” Roman gestures behind him. “Just to the window.”

“What’s so interesting about the window?”

Roman smiles. “Would you like to come see?”

Patton rubs the last of the sleep from his eyes, taking Roman’s offered hand and stumbling out of bed. Roman wraps an arm around his waist and guides him to the window, passing him his glasses.

Patton puts them on and has to blink a few times.

“Roman, it’s…”

Roman joins him, peering over his shoulder at the trees of bright red, orange, and yellow leaves, floating in the breeze. The grass has dried just the slightest bit. The island looks like a postcard, little tendrils of fog curling about the bench.

“…do you like it?”

“I want to go outside right now.”

“You may want to get dressed first.” Roman chuckles as he bustles off, immediately pulling on whatever he can grab first and rushing outside. “Wait, brave one, I’m—“

The door accidentally shuts and Patton sheepishly retreats to open it.

“Sorry.”

“No harm done, brave one, I’m glad you like it so.”

“Oh, Roman, this is beautiful.”

“I’m glad it suits you.” Roman laces his fingers through Patton’s. “Come, will you sit with me?”

There is something terribly intimate about sitting with someone as nature bustles about you. They sit on the bench, Patton’s head on Roman’s shoulder, watching as the leaves blow in the breeze. The air smells sharper, a little more crisp as the fog swirls about their feet.

“One of the last times I remember seeing the mortal world,” Roman says after a while, “there was a book left on the altar.”

“A book?”

“I presume it must’ve been a journal of some sort, a private set of notes meant only for the writer. But I…confess I didn’t know that when I began to read it.”

“Why are you thinking of it now, then?”

“There was a passage in it about the changing of the seasons,” Roman murmurs, “about how the writer felt during the late autumn.”

Patton shifts, looking up at him. “Do you remember it?”

“Perhaps.”

“Will you say it for me?”

“And share the innermost feelings of someone’s personal thoughts? I’m only teasing,” he laughs when Patton shoves him lightly, “I can say it for you.”

Patton’s eyes drift closed as Roman’s voice drops, long and low and soothing.

“I don’t know what it is precisely about the feeling of walking over apples that transports me to some gothic walkway, barely lit by the warm amber glow of wrought-iron street lamps. The cores crunch under my boots as a chill breeze blows along my neck. I shiver and pull my jacket a little further around me.”

As if on cue, a breeze ripples through the air.

“Looking up, I see the faintest outline of leaved branches trembling in the darkness, a faint rustling accompanying the sharp crunch of the apples on the ground. Their slightly sweet perfume fills the air as the bottom of my boots grow slightly sticky. I lose feeling in the very tips of my fingers as the night cools, gentle tendrils of mist making the night glow softly. It becomes fuzzy, forcing me to slow down lest I trip over any other apples or dark things that I cannot see.”

Roman’s hand plays lightly with his, tapping the tips of his fingers and tugging his hand into his lap.

“A weight seems to settle itself between my shoulder blades,” he continues as Patton’s wings flutter, “and I tense, hunching over as if to try and shield my soft belly from the groping reaches of the dark. But it settles lightly, lightly, guiding me toward the next street lamps. The leaves crackle and the amber lights hum.”

The leaves rustle as Roman pauses, the fog swirling and swirling around them.

“A soft mist settles against my lips, just there, light enough that each breath I take coaxes it away before it returns. I am not warm, but I am not cold. I am supported by the mist and the dark weight between my shoulder blades as I creep from streetlight to streetlight. Time repeats as I move, the weight never once wavering. The apples crunch under my boots. My nose twitches.”

Patton opens his eyes, looking up at Roman. He’s closed his eyes too, but he opens them and smiles at Patton.

“A sharp flavor lingers in my mouth where my breath curls in front of me. My boots stick just the slightest amount to the paved walkway under me. I want to stay here, in the soft amber glow, with apples under my boots.”

Patton swallows. “That’s…that’s wonderful, Roman.”

“Well, I can’t take any credit for it. All thanks to this unknown author who left their journal on my altar.”

“Were they a poet?”

“I don’t know. I don’t believe so, but then again I’m not sure what exactly qualifies one as a poet.”

Patton hums, breathing in the smooth, chill air. “Can we go for a walk?”

“Of course, brave one, where would you like to go?”

“Do you have any places like…like that?”

“Would you like to see if the trees in the forest have changed too?”

“Yes, please.”

—————

After not experiencing seasons for a while, it is strange to be shunted so quickly from summer to autumn to winter. And yet, when Patton wakes up and he can smell the snow in the air, he can’t bring himself to fret about it too much.

Of course, the sight of Roman standing there, framed by the two trees with snow falling over his shoulders helps a great deal too.

“Hello, brave one,” he calls, opening his arms, “come here?”

Patton rushes forward, almost knocking them both over into the snow as he throws his arms around Roman’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Oh, brave one, you haven’t seen the best part yet.”

“There’s more?”

He chuckles. “There is, if you want to see it.”

“I do, yes, absolutely, I want to!”

“Do you want to eat something first?”

“…I should…”

Roman chuckles, pulling something out of his pocket. “Here. Have this.”

“What is it?”

“Just a pastry from the kitchen.” Roman links his arm through his as they walk, letting Patton eat. “Good?”

“Mhm.”

The snow crunches under them as they go, their breath curling up and into the sky. The trees don’t frown over them like the winter trees he remembers, instead they simply reach out and hold the snow they can as they pass beneath. It’s…soft in a way he doesn’t quite remember, but it feels right.

“Brave one,” Roman asks after a moment, “would you like to spend some time with the others later?”

“Others?”

“The ones you met. My…friends. Logan, Virgil, and Janus.”

“And Remus?”

“Yes, and Remus too.”

Patton is quiet for a moment. “…for my birthday?”

“Believe me, brave one, I would be more than happy to spend your celebration with just the two of us, but you mentioned that you did like to spend it with people who cared about you.”

“I…can I think about it?”

“Of course, little one. We’re almost to where I’d like to go.”

They cross the bridge, no less safe for the snow lightly coating parts of it, until they reach the lake. Or rather, what is normally the lake but is now a pool of pale pink ice. Patton’s mouth drops open as he sees it, carefully breaking free of Roman’s hold to crouch down and touch the surface.

“Do you like it?”

“I feel like at some point I’m going to run out of ways to say thank you.”

Roman chuckles, crouching down to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Knowing you are safe and happy is all the thanks I need.”

“…you’re gonna make me cry and that is not fun when it’s cold outside.”

They settle there on the side of the ice, watching the snow make idle patterns on its surface. Patton toys with a thread on his coat as he thinks about Roman’s offer.

It would be…nice to see the others again. It would be nice to see them in an environment that wasn’t the vast emptiness of nothing and with Roman next to him as well. It would be…yeah, it’d be nice. And he does miss Remus, just a little bit.

But he’d never liked the center of attention that comes with it being your birthday. He just wants to spend time with people he cares about, he doesn’t need them treating him like he’s some special thing that must be revered, or whatnot, and he’s never been a fan of people singing to him while he just stands there awkwardly.

“Roman?”

“Hmm?”

“If they—if they come, could we not tell them it’s to celebrate my birthday?”

“Why not, brave one?”

“I just—I don’t like the part of it where it’s all about me. I like—I like spending time with people but I don’t want them just focused on me, does that make sense?”

Roman considers for a moment. “Does the focus make you uncomfortable?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Does…does my focus make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Words are hard. Um…I don’t mind when it’s just us because then it’s just—it’s just you. You by yourself aren’t too much for me and you—you know enough about me to know when to give me space.”

Roman makes a noise of understanding. “But if all of the others were here and focused on you at once…”

Patton nods.

“…they may be curious as to why I asked them to come, but I’m sure we could just say you wanted to see them again.”

“Would that be okay?”

“Yes, brave one, that can be arranged. When would you like them to come?”

“…maybe later?”

“Later can be arranged.” Roman settles against his side. “Would you like to meet them here?”

“What about that big grove of trees near the waterfall? Will it be frozen?”

“Sure, brave one. I’m sure Remus will be very happy.”

“Wait, why?”

“Ah, he must not have told you the story about the time he decided to experiment with the body of a fish.”

Patton blinks. “No, no he did not.”

“Perhaps he can tell you later, then.”

—————

Patton’s hands aren’t clenched, per se, inside the pockets of his coat, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. The last time he met these Eldritch, it…well, it was not the most relaxing of experiences.

Luckily for him, the first one to show up is Remus, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap Patton in a hug. “Hello, little one.”

“Hi. How are you so warm?”

“Eldritch benefits, little one.” The tentacles wave back and forth. “These help too.”

“Wait, how?” Remus just grins. “Eldritch, alright, I get it.”

“The others are on their way,” Remus says, “though I think Roro might come back first.”

“Is he making sure they behave?”

“Probably.” Remus tugs him closer. “But that’s my job too.”

…he would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel a little bit better.

Before long, though, another figure opens the door, stepping through and glancing around. Remus raises an arm in greeting and the figure raises one too, walking over to join them.

“Patton, wasn’t it?” The figure holds a hand out. “Do you remember me?”

“You’re Logan, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Logan smiles and shakes his hand. “It’s good to see you again. I can see why you like this place…Roman’s done a masterful job.”

“Do you—have you spent more time observing the mortal world, then?”

“Oh, yes, it fascinates me.” He reaches out, a hand just brushing the curve of Patton’s cheek. “Humans are so endlessly creative, especially when it comes to things they cannot understand.”

The soft wonder in his voice, of course, makes Patton blush and they both laugh.

“Is that all it takes, little human?” God, that’s a deep voice. “Have I lost you?”

“Go easy on him, Lo,” Remus says quietly.

“I apologize. I don’t intend to tease.” Logan’s hand drops to squeeze his. “Thank you for indulging my curiosity.”

“Is Logan bothering you?”

Patton doesn’t quite jump at the sound of another voice, but his eyes do widen at the appearance of the hoodie loosely containing another shape. “Virgil?”

“That’s me.” The shape draws up next to them. “Logan likes to poke at things until he can understand them, don’t mind him.”

“I enjoy conversing with humans,” Logan corrects, “I’m not some uncivilized beast, Virgil.”

“Right, right, wow, I’m sorry.” Virgil shakes his head. “Touchy.”

Remus and Patton laugh at the bickering, before Virgil’s attention turns back to Patton.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Why’d you ask if we’d come over? Don’t get me wrong,” he says, glancing around, “I’m more than happy to see what Princey’s been so focused on, but he’s never asked us before.”

“I, um…” He fiddles with a seam on the inside of his coat. “…wanted to see you guys again.”

Virgil blinks. “Oh. Really?”

“…why is that surprising?”

“I dunno, humans don’t normally seek us out unless it’s to get something out of it.” Virgil narrows his—eyes? What are those?—at him. “Just wondering what you’re getting out of it.”

Patton shivers in the cool air as Remus growls low in his throat. Even Logan mutters a soft Virge.

“I wanted to see you,” Patton says, proud of how little his voice trembles, “because Roman and I were talking about what I missed. From—from before. And I said I missed spending time with people I—with people I liked.”

“And you…you like us? You met us for…what, barely a moment?”

“Roman likes you,” he mumbles, scuffing his boot along the snowy ground, “so…”

“Thank you for asking us,” Logan says softly, reaching out to take his hand again, “it’s nice to see you again too.”

Virgil bumps against his shoulder. “Don’t take the questions personally, little human. I’m that much of an asshole to everyone.”

Logan’s murmured agreement brings a smile back to his face.

“Speaking of assholes—“

“Remus, no.”

“Don’t start.”

“—relax, I’m just asking where Janny is.”

“You called?”

This time Patton does jump as a figure appears behind him, whirling around as his wings instinctively pull in on himself. Remus snarls quietly, pulling Patton behind him as the last figure rolls his eyes.

“Oh, please, it’s hardly my fault the human’s so jumpy.”

“Dude,” Virgil groans, “knock it off. Literally none of us are impressed by your creepy villain facade. You’re as big of a dork as Remus is.”

“Hey! What did I do to get compared to a whale penis?”

“And what did I do to get compared to Remus?”

Patton’s breathing is still coming a little too fast for his liking, so when Logan steps up and quietly offers to hold his hand, pull him away a little bit, he takes it gladly.

“I apologize for him,” he says as Remus takes his other hand, “he’s…well, he leans a little bit more into human expectations for Eldritch. He enjoys it.”

“Mhm.”

“He is, however, mostly ‘bark and not bite,’ I believe the expression goes.” Logan squeezes his hand. “He won’t hurt you.”

Virgil snorts. “He’s a big softy, yeah.”

“I am not!”

But then his gaze catches Patton’s, who is still a bit too wide-eyed and small, and something in him just gives. He holds a hand out and carefully brushes Patton’s cheek, tapping the end of his nose.

“There, now, sweetie,” he says softly as the others hide their snickers, “I wouldn’t dream of hurting Roman’s human.”

“Correct,” says Roman’s voice as warm arms wrap themselves about Patton’s waist, “and neither will the rest of you.”

The others make noises of agreement as Patton lets the smile take over his face. Roman presses a kiss to the back of his neck. As they continue gently teasing each other about whatever Eldritch tease each other over, he thinks this might not be such a bad way to spend a birthday after all.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori @mavenmush @justablah65 @10paradox10 @uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #Logan sanders #virgil sanders

30 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 3 years

Text

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

Patton trusted him. A lot.

The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

There was so much life outside.

His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

There was life inside too.

There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

And...

And maybe that was true.

Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

Maybe then nothing else mattered.

Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath.

It was much less stuffy outside.

"Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

"If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

"Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

"We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

"Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

"No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

"Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

"I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

"Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

“You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

“Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

“Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

“Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

“Logan!”

“I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

“No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

“Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

“You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

“Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

“Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.”

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

#The beginning is quite sad but I swear it gets much lighter and fun in just some paragraphs #Finally managed to reduce my introduction I've been trying to do this for AGES but no idea appeared in my mind #<333 #Patton and Logan's friendship was so so incredibly funto write I can't believe I've been stopping myself to write logicality for years bc-#-I was afraid of not doing them justice #I am literally so happy I managed to finish this fic. I am so so proud of it. Finally I wrote some nice cheer up tickles #aaaaa #You can pry them being happy and having fun together from my very cold dead hands #Lee!Patton #Ticklish!Patton #Ler!Logan #Ler!Roman #Mouth tickles #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's Fanfic #Human AU #Alternative universe #If you read this before I remember to edit and put the title no you didn't sdfrgthyujikcv #xD

101 notes · View notes

snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 72]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

Pray for internet stability.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

52142

“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

55304

She started up a calming purr as she moved to gently kneed his chest. “That sort of hurts,” he noted idly as she dug her little paws into his sternum. She responded by purring more. He moved his arm to scratch behind her ear.

Virgil still was feeling a little bit anxious about the fact that he was out in the open, though he very much did not want to leave the room with the nice fire, and Patton and Logan would be back soon anyway. He should find some way to distract himself, and, well, the best way to distract himself was to investigate his environment, and it had the added benefit of making him feel safer.

He carefully turned to his side to gently deposit Princess Marisol on the rug. She gave an insulted ‘mew,’ but quickly forgot her ire to sprawl across the ground with her belly to the fireplace. Virgil got to his feet and eyed the room as a whole.

It was fancy, to be sure, but a lot more homely than he’d expect to be in the royal wing. Logan’s bedroom was much more extravagant than this. It was closer to what he’d expect in the home of a financially stable, but not well-off family’s home both in contents and décor.

There was a nice, but older looking couch that was probably older than Logan, perhaps even older than the king. It was huge though and comfy looking. It had two chairs that weren’t quite matching but were close enough and a table in front of it that had slightly chipped wood. A seemingly random set of pillows was on it, none quite matching the rest, but all sort of earthy browns and greens. There were bookshelves stuffed with books of all different shapes and sizes, and a giant painting of a turkey of all things over the fireplace. The fireplace itself was probably the fanciest thing in the room.

Most of the fireplace was made out of bricks, though it had a wooden outline a good distance from the fire, and there was an ornate iron grate in front of it with pretty little leaf designs. On top of the mantle were little figurines that grabbed Virgil’s attention. They were small little wooden things carved into animals. Some were painted and some left the wood to be exposed. There were a good number of horses, but there were also things like rabbits and birds. There was even a few creatures Virgil did not recognize himself. They ranged in size from only about as big as his thumb to about as big as his hand.

He leaned closer to take a better look at them, careful to keep his legs away from the hot iron grate, though he could still feel the intense heat from how close he was. He did not dare touch them. The room may seem like it did not belong in a castle, but it still was in one, and who knows how expensive or important the little figures were.

He settled his chin on the edge of the mantel, getting as close to the decorations as he dared, his eyes locked on a little robin that had been painted orange and grey with a bright yellow beak and eyes that almost looked alive.

He spent a good minute staring at the wooden creature, before finally drawing back.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” a voice asked, and Virgil just about jumped onto the ceiling, but there weren’t any good footholds, and the ceiling wasn’t very high besides and wouldn’t give much cover. “And that is why I waited until you stepped back,” the same voice said and perhaps it sounded a bit amused, but Virgil was not focusing on that.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, cringing back. Why did he always have to be screwing something up when the king came upon him. Why did the universe hate him?

“Oh, it’s okay,” the king said. He was still by the door, having only paused outside of the room instead of coming in. “You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

He certainly had been doing something wrong even if he was allowed to get that close to little things that seemed so fragile (which he almost definitely wasn’t) or be in one of the royal rooms without Patton or Logan in sight. Virgil had come here to kill this man even if he didn’t know it. He was an assassin in one of the private royal chambers. If the king had any idea, Virgil would be dead

He made as though to take a step into the room, but he paused when he saw Virgil take a step back and grimaced. “I’ll, uh, just be going,” he said. “You can stay. You can look at the figurines all you want.”

Virgil looked at the man’s feet and didn’t say anything. He hoped he didn’t take that as an insult.

“Okay,” the king said. “Goodbye.”

He walked off then, likely to his own private room. When the footsteps faded, Virgil bent down to pick up Princess Marisol, who meowed her complaints at being pulled from the fire. He snuck quietly back into Logan’s room.

Logan and Patton found him in the closet 10 minutes later.

Chapter 38

It was a bad day for Virgil. Now, Virgil had been skittish for the past few days ever since Patton and Logan had left him half asleep on the sitting room rug and came back to him crammed into a closet with Princess Marisol for company. He hadn’t told them what had happened, but obviously something had, and he’d been jumpy ever since. However, today seemed even worse.

The snow outside had only gotten thicker in the last few days since the first snowfall, and it had put Virgil’s anxieties through the roof. Often literally.

This morning, Logan had a meeting with his Dad, and so it was Patton’s job to coax the boy out of his closet. He’d reportedly slept in Logan’s bed but had stalked off to huddle in on himself in the closet as soon as Logan had had to get up.

Patton entered Logan’s bedroom to a greeting meow from Princess Marisol. She, at least, was still in bed, happily perched on Logan’s pillow. “Oh, sweetie,” Patton said. “You know Logan doesn’t like cat hair on his stuff. She just purred happily, and Patton didn’t bother to push the issue any further. Instead, he turned to the closet.

He tapped twice. “Hey, Virgil, honey. Are you in there?” he asked, though he already was fairly certain of the answer.

There was a pause and then Virgil called back. “Yeah.”

“Can I open the door?”

A longer pause.

“Can I open the door long enough to join you in there?”

“…Sure.”

With the granted permission, Patton reached for the doorknob. He didn’t open it much, just enough to slip inside. He closed the door behind him. He’d seen the general position of the Virgil sized blob on the floor and so was able to carefully lower himself down a couple of inches away without sitting on him.

“Hey,” he said after settling with his head on his arm. He faced Virgil even though he couldn’t see him in the darkness of the closet. He reached out a hand and felt a head of hair.

“Hi,” he replied.

Patton’s hand wandered a bit until it landed somewhere on his back.

“Not feeling great, huh?” he asked. Virgil’s shoulder blade shifted under his palm and there was a rustle of fabric. Then a boney chin landed on the top of his shoulder. “That’s okay,” Patton said, patting his back. “We can lay in the closet for a bit.” Patton could feel his breath brush past his ear.

They eventually wiggled around into a slightly less awkward cuddling position, with Virgil’s forehead against Patton’s chest and Patton’s arms around his back so he could squeeze him lightly every so often. Virgil fell back asleep for a bit in Patton’s arms, and when he woke again, he seemed to be a bit better. At least, he reached over to activate the constellation lights Logan had made him.

Patton blinked, finally able to see him a little bit. He smiled at the other boy. “Ready to come out of the closet, you think?”

Virgil frowned.

“How about sit in the closet, but with the door open so we can do something?”

“Maybe,” Virgil whispered.

“Okay,” Patton said, leaning forward to kiss him on the nose before sitting up and opening the closet door a crack. “What do you want to do?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil said, hiding his face half in his blanket, but at least he seemed mostly okay with having the door open.

“Hmm,” Patton said, thinking. “Do you like drawing?”

Virgil shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Hmm, well, let’s try drawing!” Patton suggested. “That always calms me down. I’m sure I left some supplies in Logan’s room somewhere.” Patton crawled out of the closet and started rooting through Logan’s drawers until he found where he’d stashed a bunch of blank paper and some drawing supplies. “Here,” he said, dumping most of it on the ground.

Virgil’s eyes darted over to the supplies, and he slowly sat up. “How do I do it?” he asked.

“You mostly just get a piece of paper,” he said, “and something colorful and you draw!”

Virgil squinted at him.

“It’s not hard,” he promised. “Just watch me.”

Patton grabbed one of the colorful pens and set a piece of blank paper on a tray he’d brought over. He drew a slightly messy bumble bee and colored it in with yellow. Virgil watched him carefully like he was trying to memorize every slight shift Patton’s hand made.

“Tada!” Patton said when he was done. “A bee. Now you draw something.”

Virgil nodded with an adorable little determined furrow to his brow and moved to copy Patton’s actions. Exactly.

“That’s great honey,” Patton said once he’d finished his drawing, “but, uh, you don’t have to also draw a bee. You can draw anything you want!”

He frowned down at his bee and then frowned at Patton. Patton sighed. “Pick something you like,” he said, “and try to draw it. Or just make colorful designs. I do that sometimes. It’s just supposed to be for relaxing. Here,” he picked up a blue pen and handed it to him. “Draw something that’s blue.”

Virgil took the pen and grabbed another piece of paper. He hesitated. “Just draw anything?” he asked.

“Yep!” Patton replied cheerfully. “You could draw water or the sky or a sapphire gem. Or you can pick up a different color.”

He nodded and turned back to his piece of paper.

Patton kind of wanted to just stare at him work, but thought he probably would not appreciate that, so he turned back to his own drawing. He decided to draw a red bird this time. After a while Virgil’s hand hesitantly reached out to grab the green pen. Patton glanced up to give him a quick smile, and he took the green pen with more confidence.

After a few more minutes, he noticed Virgil set the green pen down and not pick anything else up. “Done?” he asked. Virgil nodded and Patton looked over.

“Very pretty,” he said with a smile when he saw the messy, but identifiable blue flower.

“It doesn’t look like it does in my head,” Virgil said.

“Well, drawing takes practice, and even after you practice sometimes it doesn’t have to look like what’s in your head! Some people make it look slightly wrong on purpose.”

“Why?”

“Art!”

Virgil squinted at him and then squinted at his drawing. “This is art.”

“It’s very beautiful art,” Patton said. “We should put it up somewhere!”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” said Patton somewhere in the room, “like over by the window! That way you can see a flower even when it’s snowing.”

Virgil hesitated. “Would Logan be okay with that?” he asked. “It’s his room.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” Patton said with a smile.

“If you’re sure,” he said softly.

“I am! We’ll show him later once he’s done with his meetings with his dad and I’ve finished my lessons with the king’s royal advisor this afternoon.”

Chapter 39

Logan was glad to see when Patton brought Virgil to meet him at the library that the boy seemed to be doing slightly better than he had been that morning. He still was clearly a bit jumpy and didn’t seem interested in his normal library bound activities, that being exploring the library and climbing on top of shelves/somehow getting into walls. Instead, he basically hid behind Logan, taking a seat half under his desk on the side facing away from the door.

Patton had to leave to go have a few meetings, leaving the two of them alone.

“Would you like a book?” Logan asked the boy hiding under his desk.

“Sure,” he said softly, and Logan handed him one of the children’s books he’d been trying to read. He took it and set it in his lap.

“Tell me if you need anything,” Logan instructed, before turning back to his own book about reading Sanskrit.

Weight pressed against his leg a few minutes later and Logan idly reached down a hand to touch the top of Virgil’s head, stroking through his hair softly a few times. It was luckily warm at Logan’s desk despite being by the window. Being cold always made Virgil more distressed.

He glanced down after a bit of hair petting only to see Virgil not reading his book and instead looking up at him.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

Virgil watched him for a long moment, his eyes focused and intent. “Why are you being nice to me?” he finally asked.

Logan looked at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” he asked. He did not get a response. He just got dark, intense eyes seeming to stare into his soul. “You haven’t done anything to make me want to be mean to you.”

“Yes, I have,” Virgil said simply.

“Well,” Logan conceded. “Nothing recently. You didn’t get particularly far with the… action that could have made me unhappy anyway.”

“I could have.”

“You didn’t.”

“Does it matter?”

“I think it does,” Logan said. He’d paused the petting of Virgil’s hair when he’d spoken, but softly ran his hand through it again now. Virgil pulled away from him.

“I don’t,” he said.

“Well, seeing as it is my affection we are talking about, I imagine my opinion matters more,” Logan stated calmly. Something about that sentence appeared to have been the wrong thing to say because Virgil scowled at him.

“You’re stupid,” he said.

“There is significant evidence that contradicts that statement,” Logan said. “Case in point,” he gestured to the desktop, “I am currently reading a book about a dead language…”

“Yeah, well there is significant evidence that supports that statement,” Virgil sassed back.

“Oh?” Logan asked, “and what would that be?”

He’d had a bit of a bite to his words before, but he seemed to deflate now. He looked down and mumbled something.

“What was that?” Logan asked. “I would appreciate knowing your evidence for your opinion.”

He stared at Logan’s knees instead of looking up at him, teeth clenched. “You should have killed me,” he said firmly.

Logan swallowed the sudden bile in his throat at the very thought. He was unsure if he was prepared for this conversation wherever it was going, and very much wished Virgil had decided to have this emotional incident when Patton was here as well. Or better yet when only Patton was here. “I disagree,” Logan said.

“Then you’re stupid,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan looked down at him for a moment and then pushed his chair back, slowly as to not startle him too bad. Just as slow, he folded himself down to his knees. Virgil wouldn’t look at him, eyes resolute on his own knees. He was tense as a bowstring ready to snap. He didn’t move even as Logan settled in front of him.

“I am glad that you are here,” Logan said. “That you are not dead. If that makes me stupid, then so be it.”

Virgil did not respond. He didn’t even twitch or move his eyes to look at Logan.

58233

Logan sighed. “What is wrong?” he asked. “I know it’s been colder outside and that makes you increasingly anxious, but you are perfectly fine inside. You don’t need to worry here.”

He still did not respond.

“Virgil,” Logan called. “Look at me.”

For a moment he thought Virgil wouldn’t do so, but he twitched once and then slowly looked up at him.

Logan smiled at him softly. “It’s alright, Virgil.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Yes,” Logan said insistently. “I will make sure it’s alright.”

“You can’t promise that,” he finally said.

“I’m the prince,” Logan said with a half-smile. “I can promise whatever I like.”

“Something will go wrong,” Virgil insisted.

“What will?”

“Something,” Virgil said.

Logan raised one eyebrow. “You are worried about something, and you cannot even articulate what the threat is?” he asked.

“Something will happen,” he snapped. “Something will happen or someone will figure something out or I’ll mess up or something.”

“I will make sure nothing goes wrong,” Logan promised. “Even if it does, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“And if it’s because I mess up?” Virgil asked.

“I’ll still make sure nothing bad happens,” Logan said.

Virgil scoffed. “What if what I mess up makes you mad?”

“I don’t think you could do anything that would make me made mad enough not to want to help you.”

“I could,” he said darkly.

Logan paused. “You could,” he agreed. Logan was after all aware he was a trained assassin even though it was easy to forget, “but you also couldn’t.” He’d already proven that well enough to Logan.

Virgil stared at him. He did not deny it. “You don’t know me,” he said instead. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“I know plenty about you Virgil. Including that.”

He frowned and turned his face away to hide it in his knees.

58542

“Virgil,” Logan sighed after a few seconds. Virgil just went somehow even more tense than he’d been for this entire conversation, clenching his arms around his legs. Logan was silent for a couple of seconds hoping he’d calm down on his own a bit, but the opposite seemed to happen. His breath began to hitch after a few seconds and Logan noticed tears building in his eyes. Logan winced. He was not the right person for this, but he was the only one there. “It’s alright Virgil,” he said. “Can I help in any way?”

Virgil did not seem to hear him, caught up in his own head. His breath began to come faster by the moment, and Logan didn’t know how to calm him. What would Patton do?

Logan slowly reached out to put a hand in his hair much like he had earlier while seated at the desk. Logan quickly realized this was the wrong move as Virgil flinched back at being touched, head shooting up to look at him, or more accurately through him.

The next thing Logan knew there was a sharp sting on his cheek. It took a second for Logan to register what had just happened, but by the time he did, Virgil clearly had snapped back to himself and looked aghast.

“Virgil,” he said slowly, and that was clearly also the wrong thing to do because speaking startled Virgil out of his horrified daze, and he went scrambling out from under the desk. “Wait! Virgil!” he called, bumping his head against the top of the desk. It hurt much worse than the slap had a moment before had and the pain forced him to pause for a moment. By the time he managed to make it out from under the desk, Virgil was long gone.

Chapter 40

Thomas wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do in this sort of situation. It had been three days since Logan had come to him in a panic saying that Virgil had ran off somewhere and he couldn’t find him. Apparently, the boy had been panicking and had accidentally slapped Logan before freaking out and running away. No one had seen him since, not for lack of trying. They had searched all over the castle and the grounds, but Virgil was nowhere to be found. Thomas just hoped he was still in the castle and hadn’t tried to go outside.

It had been blizzarding for the past week on and off. It made Thomas and everyone else worry about the child.

Logan and Patton said he did not like the cold and had refused to go outside, so that was a point in favor of him still being in the castle somewhere. Normally, the fact that they couldn’t find him in three days despite having many people looking for him, would indicate he was not still here, but thinking back to the hide-and-seek debacle, it was entirely likely he’d just stuffed himself in some secret passageway somewhere.

At least, that is what Thomas assured Logan to comfort him.

He sighed and got up from his desk where he’d been working on penning a letter to the Queen of Lamir to check in with her. The snow should be letting up in a couple of days long enough to get a letter out by means of carrier dove. He decided to take it to the dovecoat now and leave it with one of the handlers.

He left the room and wandered down the hallway, turning right instead of left like he normally would when he was going back to the royal wing. Instead, he took a path he didn’t often take that would lead to a staircase that let out at the door nearest the dovecoat.

As he passed through a hall with a bunch of old portraits, he suddenly remembered something from when he was young and stopped by a picture of a woman hanging across from a small bench. There was a secret passage there that he’d found when he was only 12 and had only ever shown to one other person before. It was just a room with nothing much special about it other than the fact that it was hidden away. Usually, he’d just pass it by, but today he was thinking about Virgil lost (hopefully) somewhere in the castle who liked secret passages.

It wouldn’t hurt to check one of the few secret areas Thomas knew about for signs of life, would it?

That in mind, he walked over to the painting and ran his hand along the side of it until he found a place he could push his fingers into. He pulled and the painting swung out to reveal a small door. He opened the door into a room a bit smaller than his own bedroom. Despite not having any heating elements since it was a secret room, it was still fairly warm since there were rooms around it that were heated.

Thomas reached over to fumble with the lights he’d sneakily installed when he was a child, and the space was suddenly filled with dim light.

He closed the door behind himself and stepped into the room. He glanced around for anything out of place, though it had been a while since he’d been in here. He squinted at the very limited amount of furniture and had just walked across the room to look at an old chest when he heard a noise from somewhere in the room.

Thomas looked towards where the noise was coming from and was surprised to hear the sound of something sliding right before a head of dark hair popped up. Virgil lithely pulled himself out of the hole in the ground and shut it behind him.

Thomas froze. Sure, he’d come in here specifically to look for signs of Virgil, but he had not been prepared for Virgil to suddenly crawl out of the floor. He hadn’t even realized there was a second entrance in this room.

Virgil didn’t notice him from Thomas’s spot on the other side of the room. Thomas wasn’t sure what to do. Virgil was always quick to startle, especially around Thomas. If he said something, surely the boy would disappear back down the tunnel he’d just left.

Virgil took a few all but silent steps towards the side of the room opposite from Thomas.

#proofread stories #not writing

35 notes · View notes

fangirlwriting-stories · 3 years

Text

Star-Crossed

Summary: Virgil has known since he was little that some day he's supposed to meet his soulmate and fall in love with them. You're supposed to date, then fall in love, and eventually ride off into the sunset to the sound of wedding bells and a happy life in front of you. You're supposed to look forward to meeting your soulmate. You're supposed to plan your life around them, because you're supposed to want to.

He's not sure what exactly you're supposed to do when someone else gets there first.

There’s a way these things work, Virgil knows. Of course, everyone’s story is different, because people aren’t made with perfect cookie cutters. But there’s a general way that these things work. It involves meeting your soulmate, getting to know them, dating and falling in love, ending with a wedding at an appropriate age. You’re supposed to be tailor made for each other, your love story written in the stars, to the point where communication is easy and problems aren’t hard to overcome. Now, that’s of course not how it always works in real life, because people are complicated and problems can be just that. But it’s supposed to be relatively easy to ride the wave to your happy ending, wedding bells and cheers and riding off into the sunset.

For most of his life, Virgil had craved that ease. Relationships that didn’t come pre-packaged for success were hard, and he wasn’t very good at them. It took him until eleventh grade to make any friends. But even when he did, they were proof that soulmates made everything easier.

Roman, Patton, and Logan had the kind of soulmate story people dream about. The three of them had been best friends since childhood and started dating in their early teens. They’d had their general share of problems throughout the years, but overall they were good. Their story made them popular too, and Virgil couldn’t imagine why they’d taken him under their wing, but here he was.

With popularity-by-association came pressure, though, and Virgil couldn’t name the number of times he’d panicked about what would happen if he didn’t live up to the soulmate story of his friends. It was what they expected of him, in the way that they never said outright, but Virgil could tell they were thinking it. He knew for a fact it’s what his parents expected of him, as unlike his friends, they had said it outright. He wondered why exactly they felt the need to make that clear. Did they know something?

Because in the end, that was the point, wasn’t it. Nowhere in the general “way these things work” did your soulmate story allow you to be here, in your crumbling backyard treehouse, wrapped in the arms of someone you love but shouldn’t as they kissed your damn brains out.

Virgil couldn’t give an exact name for what he and Janus were. They weren’t quite dating, but they definitely weren’t just friends, if the way Janus’ hand was tangled up in his hair and pulling him closer had anything to say about it. He did know that Janus made him feel alive, in a way he’d never quite gotten from anywhere else. He wouldn’t trade Patton, Logan, and Roman for anything, but there were times the expectations they came with made him terrified. His parents made him feel more trapped than anything else, though he didn’t think that’s what they intended. But here, with Janus, he felt like the world could burn, and as long as he had Janus there with him, he would be perfectly content to just watch.

Virgil shifted enough to see the outside of the treehouse, and pulled his head up slightly. “Janus,” he murmured.

“What, I’m busy,” Janus murmured back, shifting his lips on Virgil’s neck. Virgil gasped and pulled in a breath.

“Janus,” he said again, though his voice sounded significantly higher than a second ago. “The sun’s rising.”

“Oh, my, alert the media,” Janus said, moving up from his neck to capture Virgil’s lips again.

Virgil pulled back. “You can’t keep kissing me to shut me up,” he said.

“But it works so well,” Janus crowed, leaning back in.

“Janus,” Virgil groaned, but wrapped his arms around him anyway, letting them both move back slowly onto the floor.

“You have to go, you know,” he murmured in a moment he pulled back to breathe.

“Mmm, I can’t convince you to stay just another half hour?” He kissed the corner of Virgil’s mouth and Virgil held back a whine.

“You are very persuasive,” he muttered.

“Ah, one of the many reasons you love me,” Janus said, moving to the other corner of his mouth.

“I’ll love you less if we get caught out here,” Virgil said. “You know how early my dad gets up.”

“Really? Getting caught during one makeout session, that’s all it takes?” He pulled Virgil up closer to him, wrapping his arms around his back.

“Janus,” Virgil said, pushing him backwards. “It’s not about that and you know it.”

Janus sighed, dropping his head onto Virgil’s chest. “You ruined it with seriousness, Virgil,” he whined.

“It’s going to be ruined with a lot more seriousness if you don’t go,” Virgil said, trying to ignore the way that Janus’ lips still looked so very tempting.

Janus had to have noticed his staring, because he smirked and leaned back in. “Yes, and it seems like you want me to leave so much,” he whispered, right before connecting their lips yet again.

Virgil heard the soft click of a lightswitch, easy to hear with nothing else going on— well, with only one other thing going on.

Virgil pushed Janus back more firmly. ��Janus,” he said. He looked over towards the house, where the kitchen light had just come on.

Janus sighed, and laid back down on top of Virgil. “Curse your early bird of a father.”

“Yeah, he’s the worst,” Virgil said, only half joking. “I’ll see you on Monday, alright?”

“How ever will I last,” Janus said with a smirk, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil much more gently, the way he did goodbyes.

Virgil returned the kiss as Janus sat them both up, and pulled back a second later. “Text me when you get home,” he said.

“I will,” Janus agreed, moving to climb down the treehouse ladder. Virgil watched him go for a second before leaving himself, climbing across the tree branch that led through his open window. He made it just in time to look out his window and spot Janus leaving through the gate towards his front yard. He paused and looked up at Virgil first, giving him a sloppy salute as if saying “There, I did what you wanted.” Then he turned and vanished into the early morning.

Virgil smiled to himself and sank down against his windowsill. God, he loved that idiot.

He waited until he got a text half an hour later that Janus made it home before climbing into bed. It would still be a while before he fell asleep, though, the buzzing feeling Janus left him with made him feel too alive for that.

Not for the first time, Virgil wished that the “way these things work” was something different.

…

“I’m just saying,” Roman said, his arm looped through Logan’s as the three of them walked to class. “That if you’re going to give students an assignment over break you deserve nothing less than death.”

“Agreed,” Virgil said.

Logan shook his head at them both in disbelief. “We are students,” he said. “Our entire job is to learn. If the teachers have assignments to grade over break, shouldn’t students have something to work on too?”

“No,” Roman said. “It’s the teachers job to grade assignments.”

“Did you miss the part where I said learning is our job?”

“I don’t see myself getting paid for this shit,” Virgil muttered. “And I don’t want to write a whole damn essay over break. I don’t care if ‘learning is my job’ or whatever you think. The whole point of a break is a vacation.”

“It’s just one essay,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow. “You can get it done and still have a vacation.”

“Logan, your ‘I can write essays in an hour’ thing is kicking in again,” Roman said. “It takes most people longer to write an essay than it takes you.”

Virgil didn’t catch Logan’s response, having instead caught Janus’ eyes on the side of the hallway. Janus looked at him as he passed and smirked, giving Virgil just enough time to think about how absolutely gone he was for this boy before he passed behind them.

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked around to face Roman. “What?”

“Don’t you agree?”

Virgil blinked. “Oh, yeah, absolutely.”

“See!” Roman exclaimed, spinning to Logan like that won the whole argument. Virgil was happy to help.

They both continued the argument that Virgil had lost all interest in until they reached the lunchroom, where Patton was already sitting at their usual table.

Virgil pulled his phone out as he sat down, because if he’d passed Janus… yep.

Janus: So how are the universe’s favorite love birds doing

Virgil rolled his eyes.

Virgil: You don’t always have to act like you hate them you know

Janus: Excuse you? They are the worst. I despise them and everything they stand for

Virgil: They also happen to be the only people who actually tried being my friends

Janus: Ugh

Janus: You and your hatred of loneliness

Virgil: If you want to talk to them they wouldn’t hate it you know

Janus: And surround myself with soulmate perfection stories all the time? Please

Virgil sighed. They both knew he could see right through Janus. While Virgil now had three close friends and gained the friendliness of everyone else by association, he remembered the things that you said when you didn’t have anyone and were trying to convince yourself you were okay with that. “As if I want to surround myself with soulmate perfection all the time” was up near the top of the list. Virgil had said it more than a couple times himself before he realized the soulmate perfection people were actually pretty nice.

“Hey, Virgil, whatcha looking at?”

…About most things.

“Nothing,” Virgil said, putting his phone back in his bag. “Just making notes of assignment stuff. Roman’s right, an essay assignment over break is BS.”

“Right?” Roman said, and started launching into his complaints. Virgil sat back in relief and listened to him start to rant, rubbing his thumb over his phone case in his pocket.

He had other reasons to hate the essay assignment. He and Janus had been planning what to do over spring break for months. Janus had gotten his mother’s permission to take the car and go with a friend on a couple of day trips, so long as they didn’t like, leave the state or something. Virgil had been looking forward to going somewhere fun with Janus, exploring the places Janus had picked out, finding places to be alone… maybe pretending to be soulmates.

Virgil looked down at the name on his wrist and sighed, wishing once again that it said something other than Ethan Baker.

Virgil went through the rest of the day trying to figure out a way to finish that essay before break. He had a week, but he had other assignments due before break. He could probably ask Logan for help, come to think of it. He texted Logan after school as he was heading out to Roman’s car. Logan stayed after most days to tutor.

Virgil: Hey, could I maybe stay after Thursday to work on my essay with you

Logan: Sure, I don’t have any tutoring on Thursday. Try and have an outline and an argument decided on by then, okay?

Virgil: Will do

Virgil slipped his phone back into his pocket and glanced up as he approached Roman and Patton, who were standing outside Roman’s car waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he said as he ended up in front of them. “Trying to figure out how to get an actual break.”

“Do you have a plan?” Roman asked, getting into the driver’s seat as Patton took the passenger and Virgil got into the back.

“Yeah, I’m meeting up with Logan on Thursday to write the essay.”

“Oh, can I join?”

“You should ask, but I’m sure he won’t mind,” Patton said. “I need a treat. Anyone else want ice cream?”

“Sign me up,” Roman said as he started to back up. “Jenny’s?”

“Absolutely,” Virgil agreed. Jenny’s was their favorite ice cream place. He wanted to find a way to take Janus some day.

Patton texted Logan to meet them there when he was done with tutoring, and then they all headed there.

Virgil grabbed his notebook once they got there and started writing down ideas for his essay in between bites of ice cream. By the time Logan got there, he had a couple ideas to narrow down, and he pulled out his phone to text Janus.

Virgil: You don’t have any assignments over break, do you?

Janus: Fuck no. What monsters do you have as teachers?

Virgil: Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it handled. Just making sure you’re ready for our trips too

…

Turns out, Janus had quite a few good spots to go to, with different goals in mind. They went to ice rinks, outlet malls with Hot Topic, and a state park all within the same week. The park ended up being Virgil’s favorite. It was filled with giant rocks that people were encouraged to climb on. They found a high up rock tucked in between trees overlooking a river, and stayed there for hours appreciating the view, and appreciating… other things. If anyone saw them, the names on their wrists were covered, and people were much more likely to assume they were soulmates than otherwise.

It was as they were getting into the car to leave the park that Virgil turned to Janus. “Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t pretend we’re not dating anymore, can we?”

Janus huffed a laugh. “I don’t think we can,” he said. “Not really.”

“Should we talk about that?”

“What part of it?”

“You know what part, Jan.”

Janus sighed. “No, Virgil,” he said. “I’m not going to force you to tell everyone now just because we’ve admitted we’re dating. Believe it or not, I like things as they are.” He leaned over and kissed Virgil as if to make his point. Virgil’s hands drifted to hold the sides of his face as he kissed him back.

“Hey,” Virgil murmured as Janus pulled away to breathe.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus replied easily, like he barely had to think about it, and Virgil pulled him closer as sparks lit inside his chest. It was going to be awhile before they left the park.

…

“What about that hotel, we could stop there.”

“We are not stopping at a hotel, dumbass,” Virgil said, shoving Janus’ head from the side. “These are supposed to be day trips.”

“Oh, Virgil, how could you deny me the chance to spend a night with you?” Janus asked, throwing a hand up to his forehead as if this was some huge betrayal.

“Don’t you have to be 18 to be able to buy a hotel room anyway?” Virgil pointed out, crossing his arms and smirking.

“Hmm. Fair enough. I know a motel a couple miles away, we could try that.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the same deal.”

“I have a fake ID in the glove box.”

“You what?” Virgil laughed, pulling open the glove box to see that Janus was right. “Why are we going to a motel and not a hotel if you have a fake ID?”

“So what I’m hearing is we can go to a hotel!”

“Janus!” Virgil groaned, trying to stop smiling.

“What, it’s not like we have school again tomorrow. We’re not needed anywhere.”

“Yes, well as technically true as that is, tomorrow is still the day we all meet up at Roman’s house to set up the pool and swim.”

All of the mirth faded instantly from Janus’ face. “Oh.”

“Hey, what?” Virgil asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“Nothing. You’re allowed to have other friends,” Janus said, sounding sincere in that.

Virgil sighed. “Except I never get to see you as is,” he muttered. “Right?”

“Well… yes,” Janus admitted.

Virgil reached over and grabbed Janus’ hand on top of the steering wheel. “Come with me, then. I’ll ask them if you can come. I’m sure they’ll say yes.”

“Oh? And what will you say? ‘Hey, are you three with your perfect fairy tale story ending cool with me bringing my boyfriend that isn’t my soulmate over to your house?”

“Well of course I wouldn’t say that,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll probably say you’re a friend I’ve met.”

Janus sighed and shook his head.

“Janus,” Virgil said, checking to make sure no other cars were around before pulling his hand onto the middle console. “Come with me. You can wear a swimsuit and look hot and make me wish I could come over and kiss your face off.”

Janus gave him a look, and Virgil could see his answer before he said it.

“Maybe another time, Virgil,” he said, pulling his hand away and putting it back on the wheel.

They made the rest of the trip home in silence, and after a while Virgil leaned on the window and fell asleep.

…

“LOGAN, LOOK OUT!” was all the warning that Logan got before Roman landed right on top of him and sent them both underwater. Virgil started swimming over to them instantly, but both heads popped out of the water before he got there, though Logan was rubbing his and looked in pain.

“Do you never look before you leap into pools?” Logan asked, glaring at Roman.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s head and starting to look it over. “Here, I can kiss it better.”

“That is not how medical care works,” Logan said, as Roman kissed the area of his head he’d landed on.

“Oh for goodness sake, specs, I’m being sweet.” Roman said, continuing to look his head over. “You look okay. You want to get out for a minute?”

“I am alright. I think a headache is forming after that, but I don’t feel I need medical attention.”

“Medical attention? What happened?” Patton called, emerging from the house with a platter of various snacks.

“Roman was being the idiot he usually is and leapt right on top of Logan instead of just into the water,” Virgil said, swimming back over to lean against the side of the pool.

“Oh my goodness, are you two okay?” Patton said, setting the platter down and rushing over to the side of the pool.

“We’re alright, Patton,” Logan reassured, catching Patton’s hands before they could start fluttering over him in worry. “Neither of us are seriously injured.”

“Good,” Patton muttered, kissing Logan quickly, and then moving on to do the same for Roman. Virgil looked away, trying not to feel bitter. He looked over at his phone, sitting over by his clothes, and debated going over to call Janus and make him get his ass over here.

He missed his boyfriend. How had he gotten so used to seeing him every day so quickly?

The sound of people climbing out of the pool roused his attention, and Virgil saw Patton waving him over for the snacks he’d brought. He pushed himself out of the pool and headed over to eat them, trying to push Janus out of his mind.

“You know, I heard there was going to be a new student coming to school after break is over,” Logan said.

“Ugh, of course you care about stuff like that,” Roman said, rolling his eyes and giving Logan an endeared smile.

“No, there was something about him. His name sounded familiar, but I’m not sure why.”

“What’s his name?” Patton asked, popping a grape in his mouth.

“Um… Ethan, I think. Ethan Baker.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold. “What?”

Logan glanced over at him. “What?”

“Oh my gosh, Logan!” Roman exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything? That’s Virgil’s soulmate, you dummy!”

Logan’s confused look cleared. “Oh, that’s why it sounded familiar,” he said. “Well, congratulations, Virgil. Unless it’s a different Ethan Baker, it sounds like you might get to meet your soulmate soon.”

Virgil stood up suddenly and stumbled a few steps back.

“Virgil?” Patton asked, standing up and looking concerned again. “Are you alright?”

“Um,” Virgil said, still moving backwards. “I—”

Roman jumped up. “Virgil, stop, you’re going to—”

The ground disappeared from under Virgil’s feet and his heart leapt into his throat a second before he hit the water, thankfully in a deep enough part of the pool that he didn’t hit his head on anything.

Maybe he could just stay down here and never have to face the reality that Logan just presented him with.

Unfortunately, a hand reached down into the water and pulled him upwards until he was above the surface and looking at Roman’s concerned face.

“Are you alright?” Roman asked, helping him out of the pool and sitting down next to him.

Virgil yanked his hand away and wrapped his arms around himself. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, sitting on his other side. “I get it.”

Virgil looked over at him.

“It’s okay,” Patton said, smiling. “Of course meeting your soulmate is scary. I was scared when I met Roman and Logan.”

“You were a kid,” Virgil pointed out.

“And? You’re not allowed to be scared because you’re a little older than I was? Virgil, it’s alright. No one is going to blame you for being scared. You don’t even have to meet him right away if you don’t want to.”

Something in Virgil’s chest lightened at the thought. “I don’t?”

“Well, I wouldn’t conceal it from him,” Logan said, sitting down on the other side of Patton. “You should tell him who you are. But if you’re not ready for a relationship or even a friendship you can tell him that.”

“I can?” Virgil asked, as his heartbeat continued to slow.

“Oh, kiddo, of course,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and squeezing it.

“This is your soulmate, Virge,” Roman said, and Virgil glanced over at him. “You’re matched up for a reason. He’s going to understand if you’re not ready. And even if things are bumpy, it’ll be alright eventually. I mean just look at my parents.”

Virgil wasn’t sure what Roman’s parents had to do with anything. Roman had two dads who seemed as in love as any other soulmates Virgil had ever seen.

“Just relax, Virgil,” Roman said with a smile, cutting off his thoughts. “There’s no reason to freak out before you even meet the guy. You don’t know what he’ll be like. Just keep that in mind.”

Virgil leaned forward and rested his head on his knees. “Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll do that.”

“These things tend to work themselves out, kiddo,” Patton said. “That’s what soulmates are all about.”

Virgil’s test tightened again. That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.

…

“Okay, I got your frantic text,” Janus said, pulling himself up into the treehouse. “What’s going on? Why are we meeting tonight when school starts again tomorrow?”

Virgil was grateful in the moment that he must have looked outwardly anxious in his position of being tucked against the back wall with his arms around his knees, because otherwise Janus definitely would have made some kind of joke about him being just that irresistible.

“There’s a new student coming to school after the break,” Virgil said. “Named Ethan Baker.”

Janus shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. He clearly knew what that meant. He moved across the treehouse and sat in front of Virgil. “Okay. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean what do I want to do?” Virgil asked, staring at him. “Janus, I want him not to come.”

“Yeah. I figured. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s coming. So what do you want to do?”

Virgil didn’t have an answer. He didn’t want to think about it, or have to make this decision. He didn’t want his parents to reject him. He didn’t want Patton and Logan and Roman to hate him. He didn’t want to go back to being alone and friendless, and especially not while dating someone who wasn’t his soulmate. He’d be ostracized, and even when he was lonely, he hadn’t dealt with any level of vitriol. But the issue was that, at the same time…

He wanted Janus. He wanted this, stolen nights in a broken down treehouse and day trips over spring break and Janus’ wit and sarcasm and hatred for all things soulmates. He just didn’t know if that want was strong enough to override all of the things that he didn’t want.

“I want…” he said after a moment. “I want to meet him. Who knows, maybe he’s an asshole who can fuck right off.”

“Maybe,” Janus said, in a tone that said ‘hopefully,’ but also in a way that meant he didn’t really believe that.

“Look,” Virgil said. “What I want is to not decide anything before I meet him. Let’s just do things like normal. I’ll see you here on Friday.”

Janus looked at him for a moment, and nodded. He turned as if about to leave, and suddenly Virgil wanted to scream at him to stop. That would have been incredibly stupid, though, so instead he reached out and grabbed Janus’ arm.

Janus turned back to face him.

“What was that you said about wanting to spend a night with me?” Virgil asked, trying on a wobbly smile.

“I meant under different circumstances,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but…” Virgil tried to figure out a way to say Don’t leave me like this without using those exact words.

Janus seemed to read it in his face. “Okay,” he said, and he turned back around, thank god. “But I’m not sleeping in a treehouse.”

Virgil nodded. “Follow me,” he said, and climbed back across the branch into his bedroom, showing Janus where to put his hands and feet.

Janus dropped quietly down into the bedroom after him, and suddenly soulmates were gone from his mind, and the only thing Virgil could think about was that Janus was in his room.

When was the last time he’d cleaned up again?

Janus was smiling as he looked around. “Wow, Virgil, you’re a regular neat freak, aren’t you?”

“Shut uuuup,” Virgil groaned, shoving his shoulder and stepping over various items as he started towards his bed. Janus followed, and toed off his shoes at the edge.

“Here,” Virgil said, taking a short detour to his dresser and handing Janus one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in. He crawled into bed as Janus changed, and then joined him a minute later, wrapping his arms around his waist. Virgil leaned back against him.

“I set an alarm so I’ll get up and leave,” Janus said.

“Okay,” Virgil murmured. He was quiet for a minute. “Hey Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“I still love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus whispered, kissing the top of Virgil’s head, which made Virgil feel warm in an entirely different way from how he felt after a makeout session. He fell asleep still warm all over.

…

Virgil recognized Ethan by finding his name on his wrist, which really just felt like one more way for the universe to laugh at him. But Logan was right. He couldn’t just hide from Ethan the fact that he was his soulmate. So instead, he walked up and tapped him on the shoulder, feeling like he was sealing his fate.

Which he supposed, in a way, he was.

Ethan turned with a slightly curious smile. “Hello,” he said.

“Ethan Baker?”

Ethan nodded, looking more curious.

“Uh,” Virgil waved his wrist. “I’m Virgil Storm.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, my goodness!”

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, trying to make his smile look happier than he felt.

“Well, hi!” Ethan said, starting to smile much wider. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Virgil! I never would have thought—” The warning bell rang overhead.

“Oh, damn that thing,” Ethan muttered, looking up at it. “I wish we had more time to talk.”

“What class do you have?” Virgil asked.

“Uh… Holden. English.”

Virgil tried to smile wider. “Well, I’ve got good news then. That’s my class too. Want to walk with me?”

“Oh, awesome!” Ethan said. “Yes, please! It’s so good to meet you!”

“You too,” Virgil said, falling into step beside Ethan as they started down the hallway.

Come on, Virgil. Give the guy a chance. Maybe this will all work out fine and he is an asshole. Maybe he’s about to say something super dick-ish right now. Here it comes.

Ethan beamed over at him. “I should have known you’d be even more gorgeous than I pictured,” he said.

Goddammit.

…

Ethan wasn’t an asshole, by any stretch of the imagination. Virgil really tried, he tried so hard to hate him. It should be easy, he was an expert at hating people for no reason! He tried twisting all of Ethan’s words and actions into the most despicable light he could manage. But Ethan was just too damn sweet.

He was gentle and caring. His smile could light up a room. He got along perfectly with all of Virgil’s friends. Virgil was pretty sure he tried harder than anything else he’d ever done in his life, but he just couldn’t hate him. Why couldn’t he hate him? Was this the universe fucking with him? Was there some kind of genetic thing that kicked in that made people incapable of hating their soulmates?

Or was Ethan just that fucking nice?

Either way, Virgil couldn’t hate the guy. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Maybe that was why he was hiding here. Virgil looked up from the stage, glad at least that the auditorium was big as well as empty.

He just couldn’t go back to class, where everyone would be staring at him and Ethan like all of their future problems were solved now. He buried his head in his knees. He wanted to get out of here.

He didn’t register any kind of bell ringing, but one must have, because doors opened and people started coming in, and Virgil remembered that there were drama classes in the auditorium. He jumped up and headed backstage, trying to control his now much worse breathing. He’d be fine, he just had to last until everyone starting doing things and then he could—

“Virgil?”

Of course. Of course he would be here.

“Hey,” Ethan said, coming backstage. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Virgil shook his head. “No,” he choked out. “No, I don’t want—” He yanked his hood over his head and pulled hard on the strings until his face was obscured.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me. Just come here, alright? People are going to be coming back here soon.”

Virgil grabbed onto his hand when it was offered because he didn’t know what else to do, and they ended up in what looked like a prop area underneath the stage.

“Hey, breathe with me, okay? I’m gonna count to four, try and breathe in. It’s okay if you can’t make it all the way there.”

He started doing that, and waited so damn patiently until Virgil finally managed to calm down, and the whole time he didn’t make a single sudden move, and Virgil wished that he wanted him to leave.

When Virgil was breathing normally again, Ethan just smiled gently and leaned back. He didn’t ask a damn thing about what happened. He just said “You okay?” in a way that meant it would be totally fine if the answer was no.

Virgil took a shaky breath and nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered, because Ethan was good at that, and he hadn’t met another person who knew how to do anything like this before he told them.

“Of course,” Ethan said with a nod.

“How did you know what to do?” Virgil asked.

“My little sister gets panic attacks sometimes. I wanted to learn how to help her, so I did some research.”

Virgil nodded. “Guess that’s lucky,” he muttered. He looked up at Ethan. “Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want from this?”

Ethan looked confused. “From what?”

“Me. What are you looking for?”

“Well, a soulmate,” Ethan said, like that should be obvious. “I don’t want to start dating you if you’re not ready, of course, but eventually. I— I like you, Virgil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he started to blush. “I’d love a relationship with you once you’re ready.”

What if I’m never ready, Virgil didn’t say. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind him.

“Virgil,” Ethan said, and Virgil opened his eyes again. “If you are not ready to date me, we don’t have to date yet. Is that what you’re panicking about?”

“I… don’t know,” Virgil lied.

“I’m not going to rush you,” Ethan said, taking a small step forward. “Or push you. I want to move at a pace we’re both comfortable with, and if that means I have to wait, I’m okay with that. For now, I would be more than happy to be your friend, Virgil Storm.”

Virgil looked back at his soulmate, with the universe stamp of approval. It was the ‘for now’ part of that statement he was going to have issues with. But then again, maybe for now… that would be fine.

…

Virgil’s entire body melted with relief when Janus appeared in the doorway of the treehouse.

“Janus,” he said, climbing up and moving across to meet him. He started to pull Janus down into a kiss, only to be stopped by Janus pushing back a second later.

“Janus?” He stopped moving when he noticed the look on Janus’ face. “Janus, what’s wrong?”

“Virgil, we need to talk,” Janus said.

“Oh, hardly,” Virgil said, starting to smile. “I have good news. Ethan says we don’t have to date if I’m not ready. And I’m not. So…” He leaned up to pull Janus down to him again.

Janus sighed and pushed him back. “Virgil.”

Virgil stopped smiling. “What?”

“Did you miss the not ready part of that sentence?” Janus said, sitting down across from him. “He definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with you dating other people in the meantime.”

Virgil scowled. “I don’t owe him anything.”

“Yes, you do. He’s your soulmate.”

“And since when does that kind of thing matter to you? Part of the whole damn reason you fell for me is because I’m not your soulmate. You hate soulmates.”

“But you don’t,” Janus said, looking firmly at him. “Virgil, I saw you with him. You don’t hate him.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him! I love you.”

Janus sighed. “Virgil.”

“What?”

“You can’t possibly see yourself falling for him? There’s no chance you could end up in love with him even more than you are with me?”

Virgil leaned back. “What— Janus. It’s not about that.”

“What’s it about then, Virgil? Come on, he seems made for you. That’s what they say soulmates are supposed to be, don’t they?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, so you don’t care about whether or not your family wants you to be with him? Or your friends? Or everyone else?”

Virgil winced. “That’s different.”

“I’m not going to push you into the limelight like that, Virgil. You seem uncomfortable now, when you’re doing what everyone expects of you. If someone found out you were dating me, I…” Janus shook his head, looked more helpless than Virgil had ever seen him before. “I can’t do that to you,” he finished, shifting backwards slightly.

“Don’t you think that should be my decision?” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

“Well, I’m making it. I’m sorry.” Janus stood up and started for the ladder.

“Wh- wait, Janus!” Virgil moved and started climbing down after him, catching his arm before he could run from the backyard.

Janus sighed, then turned and faced him. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll be okay. Don’t try and stop yourself from falling for him, Virgil. I won’t even be a little mad, I promise.”

“Janus, please.” Virgil tried to pull him back, but Janus wouldn’t budge. “What— what if I don’t see you again?”

Janus smiled sadly. “How ever will I last,” he whispered, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil gently.

The way he did goodbyes.

He pulled his hand out of Virgil’s and ran for the back gate, slipping through it and into the night.

…

When Virgil had no reason to try and dislike Ethan, liking him was much easier. He was sweet, and very cute when he was excited, which tended to happen whenever he talked about theatre, which was his favorite part of school (he got along well with Roman). He knew how to help Virgil if he was panicking, and he took an interest in the kinds of things Virgil liked. Virgil tried so hard to return the favor, but he couldn’t make himself interested for very long. That… that was okay. That would change with time.

For all of Virgil’s fears about what having a soulmate would do to his relationship with Janus, now that the worst had happened, having one actually having one wasn’t so bad. Ethan was easy to care about, and easy to spend time with, even if their interests didn’t always line up. Virgil would fall in love with him. He just needed a little more time.

These things worked themselves out, Patton said. That had to be true.

Virgil’s parents were thrilled to meet Ethan. His mom got along with him really well, and his dad seemed approving, if his smiles and nods to Virgil were anything to go by. His mom was astounded when Ethan mentioned they weren’t dating yet.

“Why in the world not?” she asked, looking over at Virgil across the dinner table.

“It’s just… a big step,” Virgil muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” his mom said, in the way she did when she thought Virgil was being too anxious about something. “I suppose that’s fair. Take your time, of course.”

“It’s not just him,” Ethan said suddenly. “I don’t want to rush things either. We both decided to just take it slow.”

Virgil smiled gratefully at him, glad for the save. Ethan gave his hand a quick reassuring squeeze under the table.

They went up to Virgil’s room after dinner, and Ethan seemed concerned. “Is your mom always that pushy?” he asked, as Virgil shut the door.

“She just… wants me to push myself,” he said. “She thinks I would be more satisfied if I took more risks, went after what I want.”

“What if you don’t know what you want?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And therein lies the main problem in my relationship with my mother,” Virgil sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Ethan chuckled a little, moving to lean against the wall next to the door.

Virgil worried his lip between his teeth, and looked back at Ethan. “You’re really okay with moving slowly?”

“Virgil, I told you,” Ethan said, smiling genuinely at him. “I want you to be comfortable.”

“You want to be with me though,” Virgil said.

“I… do,” Ethan admitted. “But if you’re not ready for that, I don’t want to rush you.”

Virgil looked at him a moment longer. Ethan wasn’t bad looking. Virgil liked him as a person. Maybe in order to make the switch into liking him romantically, he just had to force it a little.

He took three steps across the room and kissed Ethan square on the mouth. Ethan made a muffled noise of surprise, and Virgil pulled back instantly. Idiot, you need to ask before doing something like that, you moron.

“I’m sorry!” Virgil said, stepping back. “I’m sorry, I just— I—”

Ethan cut him off by reaching up and pulling him back in to kiss him again, and in the moment, all Virgil felt was relief that he hadn’t freaked him out or pissed him off.

He could do this. He’d done this a hundred times with Janus, he just had to… go through the motions. Come on, Virgil. You know what you’re doing.

He pulled Ethan with him as he stumbled back across the room and pulled them both onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his back and trying to push himself a little farther. He’d start feeling something any second now, he just needed to—

“Okay, okay, woah,” Ethan pushed him back, panting. “I need to breathe.”

Virgil leaned back. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no apologies necessary,” Ethan said, grinning at him. “You… you’re very good at this.”

Virgil felt his cheeks grow warm. “You wouldn’t guess, huh,” he muttered.

“Absolutely not a bad surprise,” Ethan said. “It just might be my turn to ask you to slow down a tad.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. You’ve got it.” He looked down and fidgeted with his fingers. “Want to watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice,” Ethan said, still looking very happy with the situation. Virgil leaned over the side of his bed and grabbed his laptop as Ethan sat up.

It’s okay. It’s okay. You’ll fall for him. You just need a little more time.

…

Time passed, and Virgil didn’t fall for him. He didn’t know what else to do. He tried to come up with something to make it better, some kind of “at least” to work off of. At least Ethan was nice. At least he was pretty. At least everyone else was happy for him. At least Janus didn’t hate him. None of them seemed to work.

Virgil was quickly becoming the soulmate envy of all just like Patton, Roman, and Logan, and feeling absolutely miserable because of it. He hadn’t shown it, of course. He’d beamed at Ethan and kissed his cheek before classes and smiled and rolled his eyes in endearment whenever someone asked him how knowing his soulmate felt.

He couldn’t stand it. He was pretty sure he’d never felt less like himself. But Patton and Logan and Roman all smiled at him like they thought he was happy, and so did his parents, and so did Ethan, so Virgil tried to brush aside the miserable feeling in his chest and fool himself like he’d fooled everyone else.

He hadn’t expected a change to come from Roman. With his general romanticism and his perfect soulmate story, he’d expected Roman to be the last person to be able to tell when someone wasn’t happy with theirs. He’d noticed the occasional suspicious look sent his way by him, but he’d managed to brush it off. He certainly hadn’t expected Roman to say anything.

On the day he did, Virgil had already been feeling pretty shitty. It was around lunchtime, Ethan was sitting next to Virgil and smiling at him as they both ate, riveting them all with a story about what had happened during drama class. Virgil had mastered the art of smiling and nodding along, and that’s what he was doing when he turned at just the wrong time and met eyes with Janus, who looked as miserable as Virgil felt.

His eyes widened when their gazes met, and Virgil tried to think of the last time he’d seen Janus in any way. Janus was very good at disappearing.

As if proving his point, Janus looked away and disappeared into the crowded room like a ghost.

Virgil stood up and pushed his chair back, saying something about going to the bathroom before all but sprinting from the lunchroom.

About halfway to the bathroom he realized that was a mistake, because it was just going to make Ethan come looking for him, so he veered right to head out to the football field. He sat on the bleachers and buried his head in his knees, trying to quiet any of his rushing thoughts.

“You are going to seriously hurt someone.”

Virgil jerked upwards and saw Roman walking up the side of the bleachers towards him, arms crossed and looking firm.

Virgil swallowed, recovering his bearings as Roman stopped in front of him. “What?” he asked.

“Virgil, if you don’t love Ethan you need to tell him that.”

Virgil’s mouth went dry. “What are you talking about, I do—”

“No. You don’t.”

Virgil looked away. “But I have to.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Virgil. You clearly don’t.”

“But he’s my soulmate. What… what else is there?” Virgil asked, like he didn’t know the answer to that question by heart.

Roman didn’t reply right away.

Then suddenly, Virgil was pulled up off the bleachers and into a hug.

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman whispered. “Virgil. There is so much more if you want it.”

Virgil blinked quickly, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. “What?”

Roman leaned back. “Virgil, what on earth made you think that all soulmate bonds have to be romantic?”

“What— but you— but they are,” Virgil insisted. “That’s just how soulmates work.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very fair,” Roman said, smiling gently. “First of all, aromantic people would be shit out of luck if all soulmate bonds had to be romantic.” Roman’s look turned curious. “I have told you about my mother before, right?”

“Your mother, what— don’t you have two dads?”

“Not always. My mother married my father before she realized she didn’t experience romantic attraction. She ended up divorcing dad, but they’re still close friends. That’s how their soulmate bond works, but my dads aren’t soulmates. And mom lives with Remus. He and I are soulmates, but that’s definitely not romantic.”

“Who’s Remus?” Virgil asked.

“My brother,” Roman said, waving his hand dismissively. “He and mom live a couple districts over. He’ll come over here more often on summer vacation and you can meet him. Point is, soulmate bonds aren’t inherently romantic, nor should they be, in my opinion.”

“But… but you’re in love with Patton and Logan,” Virgil said weakly.

“Because I choose to be, Virgil. The three of us don’t have to be dating. I know that’s what most people tend to do, but it’s not fair to expect that of everyone. What if you don’t want a partner right then? Or ever? What if you fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate?”

Virgil’s blood ran cold, and he took a step back, almost stumbling into the bleachers. “Who told you?” he whispered.

Roman’s face fell. “Oh, Virgil,” he said. He moved forward and pulled Virgil into a hug again. “No one told me, Virge. I’m so sorry.”

Virgil’s breathing started to shake, and he pushed himself back from Roman. “I thought— I thought you wouldn’t understand,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Because your soulmate story is so perfect. I thought you wouldn’t—”

“A lot of people don’t,” Roman said quietly. “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong for being afraid. But right now all you’re doing is hurting Ethan, and yourself, and the other person you love.”

Virgil sat down on the bleachers and buried his head in his hands. Roman, after a moment, sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“I have to break up with him, don’t I,” Virgil muttered.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should do in that regard,” Roman said. “But I think you should strongly consider telling him what’s going on.”

Virgil nodded. “I thought I could make myself love him,” he whispered.

“Love doesn’t work like that, Virgil,” Roman whispered.

“It would be easier if it did,” Virgil muttered.

“Yes,” Roman agreed. “But then you wouldn’t get to have the person you love now. Is that what you want instead?”

Virgil shook his head instantly. He hadn’t wanted to lose Janus in the first place. He didn’t want to trade him for anything.

“Do you want to stay out here for a while?” Roman asked.

“I want you to go get Ethan,” Virgil said firmly.

Roman blinked, seeming surprised. “Right now?”

Virgil nodded. “Yes.”

Roman still looked hesitant. “Are you—”

“I’m sure.”

Roman must have seen he meant it, because a second later he nodded. “Alright. I’ll be back. Um, advice, don’t dance around the subject. Be straightforward and genuine, but also gentle if you can.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay,” he said, and Roman left. Virgil leaned back against the bleachers and took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be fun. It may not be romantic in nature, but he did love Ethan, and he didn’t want to hurt him. He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands again. Why had he thought this would last?

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked upright and spun around, because that wasn’t Ethan’s voice.

Sure enough, there was Janus, standing just at the edge of the bleachers and looking concerned.

Virgil leapt to his feet. “Where the hell have you been?” he snapped.

“I saw you run off, I wanted to make sure you’re okay—”

“Not what I meant. You completely ignore my texts and then you avoid me at school? You asshole.”

Janus turned his hands upwards, looking a little offended. “What, did you want me to hang around all the time?”

“I didn’t want you to leave in the first place you idiot,” Virgil snapped, jumping down from the bleachers and storming over to stand in front of Janus. “You were clearly miserable on your own.”

“And you were fine,” Janus said, stepping towards him. “I was trying not to be selfish for once.”

“Oh, I was fine?” Virgil said, throwing his hands to the sky. “Janus who’s spent most of these past months avoiding me thinks I was fine. Never mind then.”

“I thought you wanted to do what everyone expected of you,” Janus snapped. “It’s not like you ever wanted to fight for me.”

“Oh, fuck you, Janus! I wanted what everyone expected of me because that made me feel safe.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“No, right now I just want to feel alive again,” Virgil said, moving forward until he was nose-to-nose with Janus. “Which is kind of hard to do considering I’m starting to spend my whole life going through the motions.”

“Why would you need me to change that?”

“Moron,” Virgil said, and pulled Janus into a kiss, desperate and passionate and making up for all of the months he’d been gone.

They both pulled apart when a gasp came from nearby.

Virgil spun around to see Ethan standing at the edge of the walkway leading up to the field.

“Wait,” Virgil said, stepping towards him. “Wait, that’s not how this was supposed to happen. Ethan—”

Ethan spun around but didn’t leave, and Virgil moved across the field until he was right behind him.

“You’re never like that with me,” Ethan murmured.

“I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be how I did this—”

“But you were going to do this. You were going to leave me for him. He’s not even your soulmate.”

“I know. I… I’m sorry. I do love you, Ethan. Just not…”

“Not like I love you,” Ethan said, looking over his shoulder at Virgil.

Virgil winced. “I’m sorry.”

Ethan laughed a little and looked down. “I think I kinda knew it, you know? I just wanted… I wanted to be enough for you. But I was never going to be, was I?”

Virgil started to reach for him, but stopped and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “You can… you can hate me if you want.”

Ethan looked up at him again. “But you don’t want that.”

“Not everything has to be about what I want,” Virgil said quietly.

Ethan turned to face the school. “I… I’m going now, Virgil,” he said. “I’ll call you if I’m ever ready to talk again.”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered. “Take care, Ethan.”

“You… you too,” Ethan said, and then he walked away.

Virgil watched him until he was gone, and then turned around to face Janus, who was casually looking around back in the middle of the field. He looked back at Virgil when he started walking across to meet him.

“All good?” Janus asked, like he already knew the answer.

Virgil shook his head. “No.”

Janus nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered.

They both looked at each other for a moment.

“Janus?”

“Virgil?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Janus started grinning, and held out his hand. Virgil grabbed it, and they both started running. They made it to Janus’ car, and both got in, and drove. And drove, and planned to drive some more.

Nothing was fixed. They’d have to come back and face the music eventually. Virgil had to tell Patton and Logan what happened. He’d need to tell Janus about Roman’s parents. They’d have to figure out a way to make this work, actually work, work in the way they both wanted.

But for now, they rolled down the windows, and drove out of the suburbs and out under the open sky. Virgil screamed My Chemical Romance lyrics at the top of his lungs. More than once throughout the drive he checked to make sure no other cars were around and leaned in to kiss Janus’ face off. He had a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.

And now, hopefully, a lot of time to do it.

Part 2

#sanders sides #anxceit #virgil sanders #janus sanders #soulmates #except not really #my fic

49 notes · View notes

doomstypewriter · 3 years

Text

Excuse me while I panic

New chapter, yay! Didn't I tell you I'd be faster?

Thanks for all of the lovely comments and interest, it really motivates me to write more.

Word count: 3041 | AO3 | <<Previous

Summary: Roman gets to work. Wooing Virgil will be a piece of cake!

Right?

CW: Swearing, anxiety, mild angst, maybe unsympathetic Janus (I don't really think so but it could somehow be interpreted as such because of Virgil and Roman talking about him, so I might as well give a warning). I don't think there's anything else, but, if you spot it, do tell.

Be yourself and let things develop naturally... that's just boring

Once he returned to the main living area, the noises of arguing and Logan’s screams could not be heard anymore. They were instead replaced by the clicking of spoons against teacups and mugs.

The moment the three noticed him they looked upwards at the same time. Patton, Logan and Janus were sitting at the table, drinking hot chocolate, coffee and tea respectively. The lights in the kitchen were on, illuminating them partially.

Logan nodded at him.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Meanwhile, Patton smiled and Janus stared at him inquisitively.

Roman went fully downstairs, hurrying to move a chair back. With his hands still on the backrest, he began to speak.

----

“Haha… I actually wanted to ask you…”

“Did something happen?” Virgil held his breath. “Is it about me?”

Roman could not stand the tension emanating from every pore of Virgil’s body. Thinking optimistically, he probably had no idea about his real motivations to come there, still, the thought of it eliciting such a reaction made Roman feel even more frozen in place.

“No!” he answered all too fast.

His body language went even stiffer with worry, to the point where he raised a hand to his mouth and began to nibble on the sides of the tip of his thumb.

“Then…”

“Everything is fine, Pierce the Nerves, I promise”.

“Okay… hmm what’s up with the rose?”

“It’s… uh…” Roman looked at it and began to felt ridiculous. “I just picked it up and it’s the same red as my sash!” he laughed as he placed it on the lapel of his suit.

“No comments. What did you want to ask me?”

----

Janus looked at him with a mix of horror and disbelief as Roman finished his recollection of the events.

“So I panicked and then I said that you had decided to help Patton bake something and now we need to make cookies this instant because Virgil will suspect something if we don’t!”

For a moment there was silence. Then, Janus ran his hands over his face.

“Roman, please take a seat already or put the chair back in place”, said Logan.

“Yeah, right” Roman sat down.

“Brilliant idea, Roman, there’s no way Virgil won’t buy that I’m making cookies and, of all things, invited him to try them. Why would you get me directly involved in it?”

Roman stood up, earning an exasperated eye roll from Logan.

“I drew a blank! I cannot come up with perfect stories on the spot while under pressure!”

“So you thought putting me in it would just magically fix how terrible you are at talking to your crush?”

“He’s not my--” Roman went deadly quiet, rethinking his life in a matter of microseconds. “Look, if I can trust you to do something is lie. So when Virgil comes down those stairs you need to help me fix this! You were the one who insisted I talk to him, so it’s your problem too”.

“Can I trust YOU not to mess up any of my--”

“Hey”.

“Aaaah!” Roman and Janus screamed in unison.

One sigh later, Virgil added:

“You invited me to have cookies”.

“Oh, yeah, well… about that…” Roman began saying. “Patton and Janus haven’t started--”

“Kiddo, we already got them ready while you went to call Virgil” Patton interrupted him. “They’re cooling in the kitchen” he pointed.

“If you had paid attention you would have noticed the bowls in the sink” Logan added without bothering to look at him.

“Roman, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies” Janus finished the series of comments directed at him.

----

Virgil’s chair moved back as he stood up.

“Well, uh…” he said. “Thanks for the cookies. Hmm…”

A frown appeared on Virgil’s face as he was leaving. His feet stopped all of a sudden and he turned around.

“Janus?” it sounded like saying the name itself pained him.

The side in question raised his head, looking openly confused. Or was it an act?

“Yeah?”

“Hmm… Roman told me you invited me. And that’s… em…” he bought time, wondering what to say. Whether to lie or not. “Suspicious. So, a word?”

Janus raised his eyebrows, not buying it, but he followed him nonetheless.

They left the room, both walking at a distance from each other. For a second, Roman thought he saw worry in Janus’ face.

“What the hell was that?” Roman asked no one in particular.

“He’s trying to be nice” Patton smiled. “I’m so proud of him!” his tone was ecstatic.

“I guess… hey, padre, how did you know I’d ask you for the cookies?”

“Patton anticipated a few outcomes from your confession attempt and decided cookies would serve as a suitable response for either” Logan replied matter-of-factly.

“Yes…” he grimaced apologetically. “I thought that if everything went well we could celebrate, and if it didn’t… well, we’d be there for you, so the cookies might cheer you up”.

----

A few days after the confession fiasco, Roman decided to try again and woo him a little before pouring his heart out.

He popped into the living room, only to find Virgil and Janus sitting six feet apart. One was listening to music and, presumably, checking out Tumblr, while the other read a thick book.

With the volume of the music, Virgil didn’t notice him, Janus on the other hand…

His face stopped being obscured by the wing of his hat as he looked up at him.

Janus shook his wrist, making Logan’s watch appear on it. The other side wouldn’t be happy about that, but if Janus had survived stealing his crofters, Roman figured he could get away with pretty much anything.

“Well, look at the time!” he said theatrically as he stared at the watch. “I need to take care of other things, pitty to miss out on your company”.

Virgil moved his headphone to the side, managing to listen to the last part of what Janus had said.

“At least he doesn’t make it awkward”.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, you’re still angry with each other, right? I can ignore him, but having the two of us in the same room with him would be like asking for an argument”.

One short stare later, Virgil spoke again, a bit unsure.

“Do you want me to move so you can sit here too?”

“No”

“Oh, okay”

“I mean, I didn’t come here to be on the couch, actually I came to see you”.

“Miss me that much?” he teased.

And it was too good of a bait to just let go without reply.

“Terribly, I’ve been swooning and mopping because I didn’t have someone blasting Paramore around me!” Roman answered draping a hand over his forehead.

“Truly tragic”.

“I know. Anyhow, I was wondering…”

Virgil raised one of his hands to stop him right there.

“If you want me to do something stupid and dangerous in the imagination with you, I’ll pass”.

“Afraid you won’t be able to keep up?”

“No, it’s more like I don’t want to have to drag your ass back here when you get hurt”.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m the best swordsman in there”.

“So is it like, empty then?”

Roman gasped.

“Tss. It seems like it is”.

“No it’s not!”

“Well, if you keep inviting me, I guess it isn’t, even if we are the only people in there”.

“Virgil, you have seen my servants”.

“Hmm… yeah” he looked to the ceiling playfully, then back at Roman,

“I don’t seem to remember about it”.

“Okay, well, I guess I won’t ask the royal artisans to frame your painting, since they don’t exist”.

“What painting? Are you also hallucinating art?”

“No. I was about to ask you if I could paint you!”

“Wha-- really? You want to paint ME?” Virgil pointed at himself as if to make it somehow clearer.

“If you’re willing”.

----

The whole painting idea had gone well. Still, Roman wasn’t able to get the right atmosphere to confess with Virgil constantly teasing them. To be honest, he ended up forgetting about it once they began to get caught up in the conversation.

He had tried other things, of course.

None had gone as planned.

Writing poems would just make Virgil uncomfortable or even correct him, because, apparently, listening to all of those lyrics from obscure indie bands had made him a better poet than him.

Then there was the whole incident with the ukelele.

Roman had been trying to play something to catch his attention, set the tone and just tell him, but the string snapped and hit him in the face. Now he had an ugly cut and some bruising on his cheek.

He felt stuck.

Worse than all of that, Janus kept lurking around Virgil. Pretending to be nice and reformed.

But never mind about everything else. He needed to keep trying.

Eventually, Roman would manage to get it right.

-----

Finally, he had a plan!

The last time Roman had gone to Virgil’s room to confess, he had panicked and let the effect of the room get to him. But, none of that could happen if he didn’t speak.

This would be perfect because Virgil would love it. Roman had recorded a playlist of their favourite songs into a vinyl record, just to make it a bit fancier. He’ll gift it to him and Virgil would understand.

Maybe he’d even ask him to dance to it!

Roman crossed the darkness of the entrance almost running.

This could work!

His mood deflated instantly when he emerged into the room.

Virgil was sitting on his bed, knees to his chest, hiding all of his upper body inside his hoodie. He left the vinyl on Virgil’s desk and walked up to the bed, making sure to be a bit noisy so Virgil wouldn’t be caught by surprise.

The other let a long breath out in some kind of acknowledgement.

Eventually, Roman sat next to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Virgil sighed and let his face come out of the cocoon of his hood.

“It’s not that something’s wrong per se. I…”

Without thinking, Roman placed his hand on top of Virgil’s. The contact made him feel like nothing bad could happen to Virgil as long as he held onto him.

Roman got the sudden realisation that he would be willing to protect him from anything. Which wasn’t too groundbreaking of a concept. He’d try to save pretty much everyone if given the chance, but that was his need to be the hero, to be “good”, whatever that eventually entailed. With Virgil, though… he just didn’t know what he’d do without him.

“Whatever it is, I’m here and I’ll make sure you’re okay” Roman promised.

Virgil chuckled. It stung a little.

“You can’t just say those things so seriously when I’m feeling bad, Princey, I never know how to react when you’re being so…”

“Annoying?” Roman tried to complete the sentence.

His head turned to the other side. He still didn’t let go of Virgil’s hand, but he could afford to, at least, not let him see how self-conscious he felt right now.

“Princey, look at me”.

“I’m not sure I want to, Virge”.

“Hey, I’m the one who’s feeling low. Don’t try to steal the spotlight, it’s kind of an asshole move…”

Hearing that only made him feel worse, now adding guilt to the mix.

“Especially since”, Virgil continued, “I was about to say you’re nice”.

“I’m sorry I reacted poorly” Roman finally managed to stare at him, “here you are, feeling like crap and I’m only thinking about myself. I can be very selfish sometimes. I apologise”.

Virgil frowned.

“Okay. Fuck off”.

“Did I--”

“No. Listen to me. Whatever you’re thinking I’m thinking right now is wrong. I know what you’re doing because I do it all the time. I’m not mad. And you’re not selfish. Not one bit. You’re self-centred, very much so, but not selfish”.

“Virge, I’m pretty sure those are the same thing”.

Virgil shook his head.

“You can be annoying when you make everything about yourself and try to be the centre of attention. But you never ignore people when they need you, even if that doesn’t benefit you. You’re willing to give up things you want just to do what you think is right. Hell, Princey, you let go of your pride just to be friends with me. How could anyone think you’re selfish when you’re so stupidly wonderful?”

“I--”

“Don’t get too smug about it” Virgil cut him.

It got quiet for a second. Roman savoured the moment and squeezed Virgil’s hand. His smile began to return to him a little bit.

“Thank you. It means a lot, you have no idea” Roman muttered.

Virgil visibly relaxed. He slumped a bit more, letting himself fall against Roman’s side. The dark hair tickled his collarbone, but Roman wouldn’t ever dream of complaining about it.

“Yeah I do” Virgil whispered, so quietly Roman could have imagined it.

Having Virgil’s head on his shoulder made sense. Like it was meant to be there all along.

“What were you sulking about?” Roman asked.

“Not sulking”.

“Sure thing, All the time low”.

He felt Virgil muffle a laugh against the shoulder pads of his suit.

The laugher died down soon after a long sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about doing something”.

Roman stayed quiet for once, leaving him room to breathe and let things out at his own pace.

“I… I am considering forgiving Janus”, Virgil paused, twisting his neck to see Roman’s expression. “Maybe be friends again if it comes to it”.

A sigh.

His thumb started to move in circles, caressing the back of Virgil’s hand. Roman swallowed.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked tentatively.

“You’re not mad?”

“I don’t know. Should I be? It’s not like I’ve exactly forgotten about all of the bad blood between us. But… he makes Patton very happy and it seems like he’s trying to help, so I don’t know what to feel about it”.

“Roman, I know he hurt you”.

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“In part. There’s more to it. But I can’t just go and bury the hatchet with him if that would hurt you again”.

A small part of Roman felt good knowing Virgil would keep on being angry with Janus if he wanted him to. In a way, it showed his willingness to stay by his side.

That’s why Roman couldn’t ask him that.

Besides, Janus had been helping him too. It wouldn’t be right for him either, as much as it stung to admit it.

“If that makes you happy, I will be happy too”.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m asking. I don’t want to know if you would ignore your issues with Janus for my sake”.

“I really don’t mind--”

“And I know that. But… fuck, Roman, you shouldn’t be constantly forced to put everyone first just to make things better for everybody else except you”.

That was… a lot to take in. Roman didn’t know very well what to respond. Eventually, Virgil must have interpreted his silence as him doing something wrong.

“You’re my friend. I… I care about you. I won’t do something you’re not okay with. You’re more important”.

“No need. It’s okay. Getting over my stuff with Janus is my own

problem. I also care about you, a lot. If you want to be friends with him I’ll support you, it has nothing to do with my problems. You won’t hurt me. I promise”.

“That’s good to hear. I mean, I’m still struggling with the decision and I don’t think I’ll be making up my mind anytime soon. But knowing that helps a lot”.

“Do you want to talk about it more?”

“Hmm. It’s… it’s so confusing. I thought nothing he did could rub off how angry I’ve been at him, make me want to trust him again. Before… well, no need to get into the specifics, but it made me feel very betrayed” his voice trembled a little. “The problem is, he didn’t exactly betray me, so I guess the doubts about whether or not things could go back to what they were, remained”.

Virgil swallowed, trying to compose himself.

“And it sucks because there’s a part of me that can’t tell if this is all part of a big scheme and he’s just trying so hard to be nice to me because he wants something, or because he actually cares. I’m scared of letting my guard down and have him ruin everything I’ve tried to achieve. What if I go back to how I used to be?”

“I won’t let that happen”.

“How can you be sure? How can we be sure of anything when it comes to him?”

“We can’t. But I have no doubts that, no matter what happens, we’ll figure it out. Even if it gets to the worst, you know me and I know you. Most importantly, I believe in you, Virge. I’m not going to tell you, of all people, that there’s nothing to be afraid of. But if you’re scared, know that you can trust me and you can trust who you’ve become. We’ll be fine”.

“Roman…”

For a second, it seemed like Virgil was going to cry, or worse, do something like hug him AND cry.

“To be fair, though”, Roman went back to his usual self. Both would welcome the respite after… well, big conversation to unpack. “I honestly don’t think Janus is planning anything. He’s even trying to get on my good side just to make you happy. I’m not the best side for him to manipulate anymore, not after everything, and he isn’t that stupid. So I’d say the bitch is being sincere. That being clear, it would still be a pleasure to punch him if you asked”.

Virgil shifted a bit.

“Ouch!” Roman shouted after Virgil elbowed him. “What did I do now?”

“You’re dumb”.

“So are you, emo, what’s your excuse?”

“I’m friends with you and I think it might be starting to affect me”.

“Well, it’s about time. I knew even you weren’t impervious to my dashing good looks”.

Oh. Perhaps he had let on too much. Roman tensed up the slightest bit.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever lets you sleep at night, Princey”.

<<Previous | Next>>

Taglist: @itsjust-la-me , @bard-in-blue , @simplestoryteller , @winterwynd , @extraintrovertedalien , @some-fander , @the-sad-strawberry

If anyone else wishes to be tagged, just let me know!

#prinxiety #sanders sides #ts roman #ts virgil #background moceit #platonic anxceit #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety fic #doomywrites #doomstypewriter

47 notes · View notes

iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

Text

stars in the sk(eyes)

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, background Intrualiceit Warnings: Language, food, like 1 line that’s maybe suggestive but also said half-jokingly Word count: 5592

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Logan has always loved stars. Virgil has always loved music. Maybe they can put those together with a little help from some friends.

Notes: Day 2 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. Patton, Janus, and Remus are all nonbinary folks who use he/they pronouns and masculine terms in this universe (but in the flashback scene, Janus is only using they/them); Roman, Logan, and Virgil are all men who use he/him. (I know absolutely nothing about music or concerts or anything, so please don't roast me too hard for any inaccuracies, lol.)

They were only opening the concert; the real attraction was a band from out of town with a midsize following, making a stop on their tour. Not that Virgil was complaining to have landed this gig. It would be the biggest performance his band—the band he, Janus, and the twins had formed a few years ago—had given, by a lot. And that was exciting. Sure, Virgil had absolutely spent hours stressing over how big it was, but he knew how to manage his anxiety, especially when it came to performances, and the anxiety didn’t stop the excitement.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Logan had told him earlier that day as he’d been getting dressed, passing his fingerless leather gloves and then holding his jacket for him to slide into. He’d spoken it with a simple, unassuming confidence, as if it were a given fact. It had been more comforting than Virgil thought Logan knew.

With the memory of his husband’s words carefully nestled against his heart, and the jacket Logan had helped him paint rainbow stripes on sitting on his shoulders, Virgil found it easier to let go of the anxiety. Some lingering tension remained as he paced backstage, running through lyrics in his head and triple checking that everyone knew the schedule, but it wasn’t as bad as usual. Most of it, if he was being honest with himself, wasn’t even about the performance—it was about the surprise the band had put together, the surprise Virgil had had to bite his tongue a couple of times to keep himself from thoughtlessly mentioning it to Logan, even though the surprise had been almost entirely his own idea and the others were just helping. But he’d successfully kept the secret, and now Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and there would be no more chances to spoil it.

But Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and the final round of jitters was setting in. And when Logan wasn’t there, Virgil’s jitters took the form of pestering the hell out of everyone in the room, to make sure everything was perfect.

He checked all the instruments, giving Janus’s keyboard a once-over without touching because he knew better by this point. Remus’s drumset was already on the stage—he was drumming with his fingers on the end of the fallout table in the corner—so there was nothing to do about that. Roman was actively tuning his guitar, so Virgil left that alone too and instead checked his bass, just in case it had gotten out of tune in the last thirty seconds.

All of the instruments were fine, great, even, and Remus and Roman were undeniably being productive; Janus, who’d been on their phone in the corner, had stepped out for just a moment, probably to get a drink of water or something.

Things were in order. Which was good. Great, even. But it gave Virgil nothing to do with his restless energy.

“Are we ready?” he asked, jiggling his leg and tracing the pattern of his fishnet tights through one of the large rips in his jeans.

Roman looked up. “Yes,” he said shortly. Roman’s nerves tended to take the form of a very short temper, which didn’t mix well with Virgil’s perfectionism.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, running a hand through his dark green curls and straightening his denim jacket.

“We all know the order things go in?” Virgil followed up after a minute of tense silence.

“Mmhm,” Remus said easily. Remus, and Remus alone, somehow always managed to remain at ease and unbothered no matter what. Virgil didn’t know how they did it.

Virgil took stock of everyone’s outfits. He himself was wearing fishnet leggings that went all the way up past his waist. Over them he had ripped black skinny jean, and a black crop top splattered with white paint. On top of that, he wore his black denim jacket, which matched the ones the other three were wearing. Virgil’s had the rainbow pride flag painted on the front, all down the lapel area; the rest of the jacket was covered in patches. He checked his makeup, examining the black eyeshadow and lipstick in his phone’s camera; it looked fine. Perfect, even.

Roman was the neatest of the group, made to stand out as the lead singer. He wore the same high-heeled doc martens as the other three, but in white where theirs were all black. He had a tight white longsleeve shirt made of a shimmery material and a matching pair of white pants, and the black jacket contrasting nicely against it all. Roman’s jacket had the aromantic pride flag where Virgil had the rainbow, and the rest of his jacket was painted with red roses all at the ends of long, intricate, thorny stems. His eyeliner was sharp enough to cut, and his curly hair was piled up atop a black headband wrapped around his forehead like a crown.

Janus still wasn’t back, but he’d been on the neater end too, to counter Virgil and especially Remus’s scruffiness. Their outfit was sleek and all black save for a thin white belt around their waist. A black hat with a broad round brim framed their face like a dark halo. His jacket had nonbinary and pan stripes on the front, and thin white squiggly lines running up and down like warped pinstripes everywhere else. (Virgil knew where on the jacket one line ended in a tiny snake head, and where one trailed off into a tail, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew to look.) They were wearing black lipstick to match Virgil, and winged eyeliner to match Roman, and contour that emphasized the sharpness of his cheekbones; definitely the heaviest makeup of the group.

Remus, sitting in the corner and making noises to themself, was a sharp contrast to his boyfriend Janus’s sleek elegance. His black jeans, splattered with white paint to match Virgil’s crop top, were ripped almost to shreds, open nearly entirely from mid-thigh down to his ankles, with only a few clinging strands of fabric keeping them anywhere in the realm of being pants. The tee they wore—black again, with his own name painted on it in large white letters—was also ripped full of holes, these ones much more deliberate; he’d slashed it carefully with an exacto knife, kneeling on the ground and focusing with their tongue stuck out slightly, until it was exactly how he wanted it and you could catch glimpses of their top surgery scars when they moved. His makeup consisted of dramatic green and black eyeshadow, and his jacket had the trans and polyamorous flags on it—he and Janus, who had nearly identical collections of pride flags between them, had split two and two which color schemes they wanted to use. The rest of Remus’s jacket consisted of a few jagged holes and some incredibly detailed paintings of green tentacles.

The instruments were fine. The costumes were fine. The makeup was fine. What else did that leave for Virgil to fret over as the final minutes ticked away?

“How about the blocking?” Virgil said. “We can go over it again if anyone—”

“I promise we know, Virge,” Roman snapped.

“Come on, kiddo, you know he’s just trying to help!” piped up Patton, Janus and Remus’s other boyfriend, who was suddenly somehow present and sitting in Janus’s lap, his pastel outfit completely out of place amidst the varying edgy styles everyone else in the room was sporting.

“How did you get back here?” Roman and Virgil demanded in unison. Virgil hadn’t even noticed Janus was back, let alone that he’d brought Patton, who was supposed to be in the audience with Logan until the performance was over.

“Oops,” Janus said, not sounding even a tiny bit remorseful as they played with Patton’s dark curls.

“Did you leave Logan alone?” Virgil demanded of Patton, hands on his hips.

“Only for a minute! He’s getting snacks, anyway,” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Janus’s neck. “We both know where our seats are, he’ll be fine.”

“You already have a partner backstage, stop being greedy,” Roman scolded Janus. “Patton, you know we need to focus right now, can you please not distract my horny bandmates until after the show?”

“You sound like Virgil, with all that worrywarting,” Remus commented, snickering.

“Take that back this instant!” Roman demanded as Virgil gave Remus double birds.

Remus only guffawed, looking incredibly amused.

“Seriously, though, uh, Patton, with all the love in my heart: get out,” Virgil said.

Patton wrinkled his nose, but pressed a warm smack of a kiss to Janus’s cheek and hopped to his feet.

“Do I get a kiss?” Remus asked, reaching his arms out hopefully.

“Makeup—” Roman began warningly.

“I haven’t got any on my mouth!” Remus said triumphantly. “Suck it, Jan.”

Janus smiled wryly, fingers rising to but not quite touching their black lipstick that Patton had avoided so carefully. “The prices I pay for beauty.”

Patton giggled, crossing to Remus, clasping both his hands, and leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

“Great, you’re very very cute together but now is not the time, Patton get out and stop distracting your boyfriends,” Roman said, shooing Patton towards the door.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “High strung much?”

“Not all of us possess your—your stupid coolheadedness powers, Remus!” Roman snapped.

Patton paused in the doorway and pointed at Roman, getting out his dad voice. “Hey. Be nice.” The finger moved to Virgil. “Be nice.” His eyes flicked to Remus, then Janus, and his voice shifted to a different tone, half flirty and half joking. “You two be good boys.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I said to stop being horny!” Roman shrieked, chasing a giggling Patton out of the room and down the hall. He returned moments later, Patton-less and fixing at his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy. “We had better not have any more alloromantic bullshit from any of you until after the show is over!” he announced. “Okay?” He didn’t sound quite as annoyed as before.

“Homophobia,” Remus accused teasingly.

But instead of snapping back, Roman giggled. “Oh, shut up.”

The twins began joking back and forth, Janus making the occasional amused interjection. Evidently Patton’s intrusion into the room, although technically unhelpful, had done wonders to break the tension, and Virgil reminded himself to thank Patton later.

Virgil’s phone buzzed with a text from Logan.

Logan: Patton found me, don’t worry. Logan: How are you doing?

Virgil: hahahahahaaaa i don’t wanna think abt it

Logan began typing, then the little bubble went away; a second later, the phone began to ring, Logan’s caller ID plain to see.

“Hi, babe,” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, dear. Would you like to walk me through your plan for the performance, to reassure yourself?”

Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, please.”

“I am listening,” Logan assured him.

Virgil took a deep breath and launched into a detailed itinerary, knowing that Logan didn’t mind if he got a little too technical in his terminology because Logan was listening for Virgil’s sake.

“And then that’s about it,” Virgil wound down, carefully leaving off the final item from his explanation. It wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise now. “Oh, looks like we’re getting ready now, gotta go.”

“I love you,” Logan said quickly. “You’re going to do a wonderful job.”

Virgil let out a short laugh. “Thanks, L. Love you too.” He hung up, set his phone down on the table, and picked up his bass.

“You ready?” Roman asked, nudging Virgil with his elbow, as the group finally headed towards the stage.

Virgil sucked in a long breath. “Yeah. I think so. Are you?”

“Oh, you know it!” Roman grinned, a spring in his step. He paused after a second and glanced back to Virgil. “Sorry for being so wound up earlier.”

“It happens.” Virgil shrugged. “Right back at you.”

Roman nodded and put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Hey. He’s going to love it. Just wait and see.”

Virgil looked away, half smiling. “I sure hope so.”

“He will, I know it!” Roman insisted as they climbed the steps onto the stage and emerged into what could practically have been the eye of a hurricane, for all the noise and light that surrounded the stage.

The sky above was fully dark; bright lights everywhere in the area contrasted against it. There was a decent crowd. The venue seemed almost full, as a matter of fact. The observation added a thrill of adrenaline to compliment the goosebumps from the chilly breeze across Virgil’s bare midriff.

Roman stepped forward and spread his arms wide right as the spotlights came up. “Hey, folks, thank you for being with us here tonight!” he said, his smile gleaming in the bright lights and his voice booming in the speakers. “We have some great hits lined up for you tonight! Let’s get it started, huh?”

Virgil waited a few seconds for the cheer of the crowd to peak. Janus began the melody on the keyboard; Virgil came in with his bass at exactly the same second Roman began to sing, and Remus picked up the beat on the drums on cue.

Virgil was quickly able to get lost in the music, all his focus on playing and providing backup vocals, leaving him with no more brain space for his anxiety. This was his favorite thing about music: its ability to keep him in the moment.

They played three songs. Two covers that always went over really well, and one song that the twins had written together about family that always left Roman just a little teary. Normally that would be their closing song.

But tonight was a little bit different.

Roman took a step back, nodding at Virgil; the pair of them traded places onstage, putting Virgil front and center.

“So,” Virgil said, the mic on his cheek picking up his words, “we were thinking we’d let you all be the first to hear our new song. Uh, I wrote this one. And normally Roman does our singing, because—well, you’ve heard his voice. But this song is kind of special. I wrote it for my husband. So. We thought I’d perform it tonight.”

As Janus began playing the melody, Virgil searched the front row of the crowd, squinting against the lights, until he found Logan, sitting next to Patton and gazing up at Virgil with shining eyes. “Lo, I love you so much, babe. More than every star you’ve ever shown me.” He took a deep breath and began to sing.

***

10 years earlier

Unknown Number: Hello. This is Janus. Logan’s roommate

Virgil: how’d u get this number?

Janus: I broke into Logan’s phone after you started dating and saved you to my contacts just in case

[read 3:43pm}

[3:46pm]

Virgil: i Virgil: wtf dude

Janus: Your boyfriend has been moping in his room all day, can you please come fix it? Janus: Roman is starting to mope too for no good reason, but he’s doing it in the living room and at this point it is starting to affect my quality of life

Virgil: yk i literally could not care less abt that part u asshole <3 Virgil: i’ll be over in 15 Virgil: is he ok?

Janus: He won’t talk to me, I don’t know what happened

Virgil: i’ll be over in 10

It was normally a 12-minute walk from the dorm Virgil was an RA in to Logan’s apartment just off campus, but Virgil could walk fast when he was anxious or alone, and in this case he was both. Even taking the time to grab a jacket, he still made it to the building in nine minutes flat.

Janus let Virgil into the apartment almost the second he knocked, relief plain to see on their face.

“You see?” Janus said over their shoulder in a scolding tone. “I had to resort to outside measures to deal with your bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Roman whined from where he was slumped on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Netflix on the TV.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips. They dramatically pushed the button to open the microwave door, revealing a limp burrito wrapped in a damp paper towel.

“Lunch,” Roman mumbled defensively.

“You hate microwave food, and it’s four in the afternoon!” Janus snapped.

“I am in a creative slump, Jan! Have some sympathy!”

“No! Get your whiny ass off the couch and stop ruining my afternoon!”

Virgil took a deep breath and pointedly walked in between the pair of them down the hall towards Logan’s room. Roman and Janus’s still-bickering voices faded into the background.

“Hey.” Virgil knocked on the door, which had a piece of printer paper taped to it with Logan’s name written on it in blue sharpie and a couple of stars, both scribbles and stickers, scattered around it. He waited, and when there was no reply, he added, “Are you okay, Lo?”

“I’m fine,” Logan said, in a voice that had obviously been crying.

“Can I come in?” Virgil asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil pushed open the door and stepped into the dim room, closing it behind him. The blinds were closed, and Logan was curled up under a mound of blankets.

“Hey, baby,” Virgil murmured, kicking off his shoes and climbing to sit on the bed beside Logan and stroke his hair. “What’s wrong?”

Logan made a muffled noise of misery into the mattress.

“What?” Virgil said after a moment.

Logan rolled over. “Teacher didn’t like my essay.”

Virgil chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Okay, I promise I’m not making fun of you, but you do know that that is possibly the most stereotypically you thing you have ever said to me, right?”

Logan let out a little huff that was not quite a laugh. “I guess.” He was silent for a moment as Virgil continued to stroke his hair. “And I know it’s stupid. I still got a B+ and my overall grade in the class is fine and I know I’m a good writer and everything. But it sucks. I was really proud of it.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Virgil said, choosing to ignore the squirm in his gut that always happened when grades came up. It was so easy to compare or to worry about others comparing and then to worry about others getting upset over comparisons and—he dragged himself back to the present, forcibly setting the issue aside. “You’re allowed to feel upset,” he told Logan. “About anything that upsets you. Even if you wouldn’t choose it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but after a minute his hand snaked out from under the covers and grasped Virgil’s.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Virgil asked, struck with the idea.

“Huh?”

“A walk. Get out of your head for a little bit and hang out. We can talk if you want, or just be together.”

Roman’s voice grew particularly loud outside, and Virgil picked out a teary, petulant, “I hate you!”

“Plus it’ll get you away from that energy,” he added wryly.

Logan drew in a breath and sat up. “Alright. Let’s do it.” He pulled out a denim jacket while Virgil put his shoes back on and retied the laces. They made their way out of the apartment, hand in hand.

Roman was on his feet now, releasing an angry tirade at Janus, hands clenched into fists and sounding on the verge of crying, the TV remote cast on the floor beside him. Janus was sitting on the kitchen counter with arms crossed and an intimidating glare on their face.

“Hey!” Virgil snapped, and Roman cut off abruptly. “Eat some food,” Virgil told him on a hunch. Sure, Roman could be a little immature at times, but this was on a whole different level, and a lack of food seemed like the simplest culprit.

Virgil looked over at Janus, to make it clear that they weren’t off the hook either. “We’re going out. You two better make up before we get back. Clear?”

“You can’t tell us what to do—” Roman began stubbornly.

“Janus literally called me in to fix all your problems, so yeah. I can. Also open your windows, it’s gloomy as fuck in here.” Virgil opened the door and held it for Logan, tossing one last glare over his shoulder at Roman, who looked dumbstruck, and Janus, who avoided eye contact.

Logan was quiet as the two of them walked down the stairs and exited the apartment building, hands in his pockets (one still clasping Virgil’s) and eyes on the toes of his slip-on shoes.

“Wanna talk?” Virgil asked.

Logan tilted his head to the side for a moment, his thinking face slipping over his features, and then shook his head.

Virgil nodded. “Okay.” He fished in his pocket for his earbuds and plugged them in. “Let me know if that changes, okay?” He received a small nod and turned on his go-to playlist—a 12-and-a-half-hour-long composition of all his favorite emo songs that he could loop without having to put any thought in.

The two of them wandered through the streets, hand in hand, music blaring in Virgil’s ears and Logan’s fingers soft and warm against his. They made their way towards downtown; their university was in a small city, and it was pretty walkable.

As they walked, weaving around and across different blocks, occasionally stopping to peek into particularly interesting shop windows, the tension in Logan’s shoulders slowly began to relax and his gaze migrated from the toes of his shoes upwards to take in the surrounding scenery. Virgil felt himself relaxing in turn. The subdued, almost sullen look on Logan’s face was beginning to shift back to his typical bright-eyed curiosity, which meant that while maybe not all was right with the world, a whole lot was right with the world.

As the sky began to darken, Logan’s pace quickened with sudden purpose—but he didn’t lead Virgil in the direction of the apartment. Instead, he headed in almost the exact opposite direction. Virgil was lost for a moment as to where they were going, until the park in the center of downtown came into view. Ah. That explained it. He was kind of glad; he didn’t feel ready for the quiet time they were spending together to be over.

A scent caught his attention as they entered the park, and he tugged gently at Logan’s arm, nodding towards the mediterranean food truck. A small smile answered him, and a nod, and the pair of them made their way over. They both ordered gyros—Virgil chicken, and Logan, who was trying out vegetarian food, falafel.

Fifteen minutes later, seated side by side on a park bench and finishing the last of their sandwiches, Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Virgil bumped his shoulder against his boyfriend’s. “Of course, babe.”

“I am feeling… better,” Logan said cautiously, as if he were testing out the words in his mouth to see if they felt true.

Virgil nodded. “Better is good.”

Logan nodded, eyes moving to the sky, which was now almost fully dark except for a streak of orange sunset leftover on the horizon. The stars were out, at least the brightest ones that could be seen even past the floodlights placed every so often across the park.

“You like space, and shit, right?” Virgil said, scooting closer to Logan and dragging his arm to wrap around Virgil as he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was a bit of a rhetorical question, since he knew Logan had an astronomy minor and was the vice president of the astronomy club and had gone on no less than three eager rambles about space in the last month alone, but one could always do with a conversation opener.

Logan blinked and looked down at him. “I do.” You know this, his tone said, a little puzzled at the question.

“What star is that?” Virgil pointed at a particularly bright one, although he wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to the star as he was to Logan’s face.

Sure enough, Logan brightened, his eyes more interesting than any star. “Oh! That’s not a star at all—it’s actually Mercury!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, grinning and scooting closer.

Logan wrapped his arm a little more tightly around Virgil’s shoulders with an answering smile. “Yes, and it’s actually very fascinating…” And just like that, he was off, words spilling out of his mouth at a breakneck pace, gesturing eagerly with his free hand to emphasize his points.

Virgil listened, doing his best to follow along and asking a few questions whenever Logan started to wind down, but mostly just happy to watch his boyfriend’s lips as he excitedly infodumped, and his eyes, too, alight with delight, the frustration of the disappointing grade all but forgotten as he held Virgil and told him stories about the night sky.

It was nearly ten at night by the time they made their way back to Logan’s apartment, chatting back and forth in quiet voices and giggling. Logan broke off as he opened the door and got a look inside; he glanced over his shoulder at Virgil and put a finger to his lips.

Virgil hushed and followed him in, then saw what the need for quiet was: Janus and Roman were asleep on the sofa, Roman sprawled on his stomach on top of Janus with his limbs everywhere and his face buried in Janus’s chest, Janus with their arms wrapped around him and a throw pillow propping their head up and a worn copy of Crime and Punishment flopped over from where it had clearly been propped up on Roman’s back.

“Precious,” Virgil commented softly as Logan picked up the book, tucked a bookmark off the coffee table into it, and set it down with the tender care he seemed to reserve exclusively for books and Virgil.

Logan smiled. “They are, rather.” He looked down at his roommates. “Sometimes I wonder why I picked the two most dramatic people I know to live with.”

“Sometimes like this afternoon?” Virgil said with a chuckle.

Logan snorted. “Maybe. But then they do things like this, and I remember why I like them.”

Virgil noticed something on the tiny kitchen table. “Or this?” He pointed.

Logan came over to examine what Virgil had found. “Oh,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

A plate of cookies sat on the table, together with a hastily handmade card.

“Sorry :( ❤️” it read in large, expressive cursive, and beneath it in smaller, neater handwriting, “I actually didn’t do anything wrong, but these are for you and I did the dishes, also you’re welcome for the date night.”

Logan laughed quietly, taking a cookie and offering the plate to Virgil, who accepted one cookie—they looked to be snickerdoodles. “Yes. Things exactly like this,” he said. He took a bite of the cookie and raised his eyebrows. “Not bad.”

Virgil grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “Not bad at all,” he agreed, pulling away.

“I literally gave you your own cookie,” Logan whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.” Virgil winked, mainly for Logan’s reaction—he pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an amused smile that was still visible in his eyes. “I should go,” Virgil added, glancing at the time. It was Sunday tomorrow, so he didn’t need to worry about how late he was up, but he disliked walking home at night.

Logan nodded, taking another cookie and pressing it into his hand. “Text me when you get home?”

“I always do,” Virgil said, accepting the cookie and a goodnight kiss that still tasted just faintly of cinnamon and sugar.

And he did just that; he always felt a little awkward simply texting “I made it home,” or the like, so he usually tried to come up with interesting questions to send to Logan instead. Tonight, it was:

Virgil: hey Virgil: if u could pick one Thing u always wanted to do Virgil: and get a guarantee that u’d get a chance to do that thing no matter what Virgil: what would u pick?

Logan: Fascinating question! I would like the opportunity to name a star. Logan: I don’t imagine it will ever happen in real life, but I’ve always thought it would be… cool, for lack of a better word.

Virgil: ghfdkjghksdhj i will never be over ur love for space Virgil: u have a Brand and u stick to it

Logan: Well, a brand is important in life. :-) Logan: What about you? What would you pick?

Virgil: i think it’d be neat to be in a band Virgil: idk Virgil: like i don’t wanna be super famous or anything but like Virgil: being in a band would be neat Virgil: yk?

***

Ten years later, Virgil sang the last lines of his song looking right at his husband. “And I don’t even need to look to the skies/Because all of the stars are in your eyes.”

The noise around him didn’t fade away like in the movies; to the contrary, the cheering was so loud it was almost hard to focus. But Logan’s face was absolutely alight—Virgil couldn’t be sure at this distance, but he thought Logan might even be tearing up—and he was looking at Virgil like he was his whole world. Even with the bright lights and overwhelming sounds all around, it was easy to focus on Logan in the midst of it all, Logan pressing a hand to his mouth but smiling too wide for anything to hide it, Logan leaning into the side-hug that Patton—oh, and there was Patton, right beside him—was offering, but never taking his eyes off Virgil. Logan looked so happy, even though Virgil knew concerts weren’t really his favorite type of event, and Virgil was hit right in the chest with a renewed realization that Logan was Virgil’s whole world and damn, Virgil wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

But their time onstage was up, and the next few minutes were a bustle of packing equipment away and cleaning up the space they’d been allotted backstage, and it all went by in a bit of a blur, helped along by the remnants of Virgil’s performance mindset and slight overstimulation—though that was getting better now that he was offstage.

Virgil took a quick break, when the bulk of the urgent work was done, to just stand in the empty restroom and breathe for a moment, the noise of the other band who were now onstage thudding in the background so quietly he could hardly hear it. When he’d fully composed himself, feeling much calmer, he took a deep breath and headed back out.

On his way out, he ran into Roman, pushing a dolly with a box on it. “Oh, good, there you are,” he greeted Virgil. “Can you—oh, for crying out loud,” he broke off, looking ahead.

Following his gaze, Virgil snickered as he saw Remus, leaning against the wall with their hands clasped behind his head, grinning down at Patton, who was leaned forward, bracketing Remus with his arms, looking up at him and speaking, although Virgil couldn’t hear him from here.

“We still have work to do,” Roman said under his breath, but the exasperated gaze he leveled at the pair was altogether far too fond to have much real bite.

Virgil’s mind was on other matters; if Patton was here, that meant—

“Lolo!” Patton’s voice called brightly; he’d seen Roman and Virgil and stepped back from Remus, waving happily at the pair of them. “Virgil’s here!”

At the sound of Patton’s voice, Janus emerged from the room, a little further down the hall, that had served as the headquarters for the band. He bent to give the tiny man a kiss, then turned to Remus for another kiss.

Logan popped his head out just a moment behind Janus. “Virgil?” He brightened when he saw Virgil’s face, and stepped fully out into the hall. He hadn’t changed from his work outfit, still wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up, a tie, and a pair of jeans, and a smile that he looked like he couldn’t wipe off his face.

He was still the handsomest man Virgil had ever seen.

Virgil looked to Roman. “Permission to get back on my alloromantic bullshit, captain?” he asked teasingly.

Roman rolled his eyes and swatted Virgil’s shoulder. “Go be cute,” he said benignly.

Virgil took off down the hallway to Logan, not quite running; Logan took a few steps to meet him, and Virgil caught him in a hug so eager he actually lifted the taller man off his feet for just a second.

Logan, half-laughing with surprise, grasped Virgil’s shoulders for balance as he regained his feet. “You wrote me a song?”

“Did you like it?” Virgil asked, holding him tightly.

“Virgil, I—” Logan seized Virgil’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Virgil wrapped his arms more firmly around his husband, kissing him back exuberantly and swaying slightly back and forth.

“It’s perfect,” Logan told him, breaking away only just far enough to speak. “You’re perfect.”

Virgil grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan’s neat hair. “Careful, you’ll spoil me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that,” Logan told him seriously. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

And really, what was Virgil supposed to do about that except kiss his husband again?

56 notes · View notes

madpatkats · 4 years

Text

Butterflies

Credit to @not-exactly-laborious and their amazing art for giving me the idea.

Ship: prinxiety Description: Roman loved the butterflies, they were beautiful and they showed the softer side of Virgil. But when Patton said that he never saw them, Roman set out to learn what the butterflies. tw: kissing

One of the purple butterflies flew towards Roman landing on the tip of his finger. The creative side grinned, inspecting the beautiful creature resting on his hand.

“They truly are beautiful, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at Virgil, who was surrounded by the butterflies.

Virgil blushed and ducked his head. “I guess they are pretty nice, even if they mess up my aesthetic.”

For hours, they sat there, talking as the butterflies soared around the dark room, occasionally getting caught in the webs that covered the walls. Eventually, Roman muttered that he’d better get back to conjuring up a new idea and slipped out of the dark room.

“Farewell, Emo Nightmare, I shall see you again soon.”

Smiling slightly, Virgil gave a tentative wave as Roman disappeared. But what the creative side didn’t see, was the cloud of shining purple butterflies disappearing.

“Y’know those butterflies truly are magnificent. And I will never get tired of saying that.”

Patton stared at Roman, an eyebrow raised. “What butterflies?”

“The ones in Virgil’s room, of course.”

“He... He doesn’t have butterflies in his room.”

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed. “... Yes he does.”

Patton shook his head, smiling slightly. “Maybe they only come out when you’re there, kiddo.”

Muttering something about talking to Logan, Roman traipsed up the stairs, leaving Patton cooking dinner. Without asking, Roman opened the door and set on the chair by Logan’s desk. Sighing, the logical side spun in his chair, stopping when he faced Roman.

“Can we make this quick? I need to get back to work.”

“Virgil has butterflies in his room, right?”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “As far as I am aware, Virgil’s room is not home to butterflies.”

“But I see them every time I’m in there!”

Thinking, Logan stared at the astronomy patterns on the ceiling for a second. then, he grabbed his notebook and leaned forward in his seat.

“Can you describe these butterflies to me?”

For the next ten minutes, Roman talked about the butterflies in every detail that he could remember. By the end of it, Logan had full pages of notes.

“Well... from what I deduced, the butterflies must be triggered to appear by something about you.”

Roman curled away from Logan. “You are not using me as a test subject, okay?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “‘Butterflies in your stomach’ is a phrase, correct?”

“Yes...?”

“And it is usually to do with experiencing anxiety due to romantic attraction, right?”

Though he was still confused, Roman nodded silently. Groaning, Logan held his head in his hands.

“Oh my- do I really have to spell it out for you? Virgil likes you romantically!”

Cheeks flushing as red as his sash, Roman’s eyes widened. “No... that can’t be correct.”

“Just go talk to Virgil, okay? You two need to sort yourselves out.”

Logan turned back to his computer.

Roman appeared in Virgil’s room, surprising the anxious side. Sure enough, the butterflies appeared and started fluttering around the room.

“Do you like me?”

The number of butterflies doubled. Virgil’s cheeks were so red, Roman could see it under the foundation.

“I- uh... what?”

Feeling his own cheeks redden, Roman moved closer.

“Do you like me romantically? Is that what the butterflies mean?”

Virgil opened his mouth, but nothing left his lips. Eventually he gave up trying to deny it.

“Who told you? Logan?”

Roman was shocked. “So it’s true.”

Picking at his black nail varnish, Virgil looked down at his lap

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I get it if you don’t like me like that and never wanna see me again. I mean I’d prefer t if I still got to see you but-”

He stopped when he felt fingers interlace with his own. Virgil looked up to find Roman grinning down at him.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

A soft smile pulled at Virgil’s lips and his eyeshadow turned purple.

“May I kiss you, Virgil?”

The anxious side nodded. They met each other in the middle, lips pressed together in a sweet kiss. When they finally pulled away, Roman found a flower-crown of fluttering purple wings resting on his head. He really loved those butterflies, and he hoped that they never went away.

#Sorry if this is bad #prinxiety #Sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan

117 notes · View notes

prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 2 years

Text

Crown Princes and Butterfly Wings (4/?)

Chapter 3 : Magic Spells

—-

The trio leave Farfalia and finally start the journey properly - i.e, with breakfast pancakes. Unfortunately, Roman is beginning to think he might end up a third wheel to his two friends.

<- Previous | First | Next ->

@cutebisexualmess :)

—-

Gooood afternoon everyone!!

I might start posting these more frequently because updating weekly feels really slow. But only if I manage to write more in advance. Look out for surprise Wednesday updates every now and then.

I'm considering starting an ask blog over on Tumblr for the characters of this au and a few others (namely Across Land And Water, the New Year's fic au and my Darkside Roman AU) so if anyone would be interested let me know??

It might not happen until I post a little more for this and my New Year's au that I need a name for. But hopefully that won't take long. Lol.

But yea lmk! (I did make a post specifically about it so you can find that too if you want.

They had realised very quickly that their supply of gold to spend was much more limited than they had first realised.

Over the course of the day, the three of them had gone around town together (during which time Logan refused to let Roman out of his sight) and gathered up all of the necessary items. They had gotten a spare set of clothes for Logan, along with camping gear as well as a few other things they had spotted and decided they might need.

After that, they had returned to the tavern and paid for another night, before splitting off to their own rooms to get a good night’s sleep so they could begin their journey in the morning. In Roman and Logan’s room though, Logan had pulled out the gold they had been given by the palace and counted out what they had left, only to realise that they had way less than they had originally thought.

“We are going to have to learn to live sparingly,” Logan had said solemnly. “We cannot afford luxuries every night if this mission is to take us as long as I currently believe it might.”

Roman sighed. “That’s… alright, we can deal with that, right?”

“I certainly can,” Logan said, a small smile on his face. “I don’t know about you, however, you spoilt prince.”

“Hey!” Roman yelped. “That’s so mean! I’m not spoilt!”

“Yes, Roman, you are.” Logan rolled his eyes. “You have people to bring you breakfast in a tray to your room every morning. You were confused when we didn’t wake up to people waiting on our every whim this morning.”

“I- I can get used to it,” Roman said, suddenly slightly unsure. Could he? Really? It was such a strange and drastic lifestyle change. “At least, I am able to do my best.”

“You are trying, and I can respect that.” Logan nodded. “It’s alright, at least now we have Patton to help.”

Roman gasped. “Is this a hint of positivity towards our new companion I hear?”

“It would be untrue to say that he didn’t prove that he was helpful to us today,” Logan said, looking away. “He is strange, but I’ll admit, he seems to be a worthy companion.”

“Are you… embarrassed?” Roman asked, frowning in confusion—Logan was never embarrassed about anything. “Why are you…”

“It’s- nothing important, I don’t think.” Logan shook his head. “Just a feeling I have yet to identify, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out in time, do not worry yourself.”

Roman could only stare at Logan, who stared back with a neutral expression, nothing there that Roman could read, as usual. He supposed he’d have to give in to this one.

“Alllright then,” Roman said slowly, “I suppose I will see you in the morning?”

“Of course you will, we’re sleeping in the same room,” Logan said, gesturing to the space as he laid down on the bed.

Roman sighed. “I mean- nevermind. Sweet dreams to you, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Roman.”

—-

The next day started well, In Roman’s opinion. They had woken up early and Patton had insisted that they get breakfast at a place further down mainstreet than the inn to ‘celebrate the beginning of a great adventure!’ Logan had insisted that it was unnecessary, considering that their adventure had already started. Patton and Roman—though it was mainly Patton—had eventually managed to convince him and they had gotten pancakes together. The shop sold amazing pancakes and Roman made a mental note to find out the recipe they used and provide it to the palace chefs when they returned.

It was still early enough in the morning when they actually began to walk that Logan remained happy, and with only minor distractions (mainly on Roman’s part—he really wasn’t good at staying focused) they had left the capital around noon. By the time the sun had begun to set they were well along the forest road. Patton had stopped them not long after and informed them that setting up camp was probably a good idea for now.

From Logan’s map, they had concluded that they had somehow made more progress than he had originally planned, having already passed over the stream and taken the left fork in the road. They would only have another two days’ travel to complete after they set off the next day.

—-

“You talked about magic, back in the inn,” Patton stated as they looked over the little camp that they had put together under his direction. Logan turned and nodded.

“I am a practising wizard,” Logan said. “Why do you point this out?”

“Well um- see I’m not sure how much you know about the wilderness,” Patton said, sitting down next to the firepit they had built and pulling out a matchbox from his pack. “But there can sometimes be gangs of bandits who camp in the forest and like to ambush other camps to steal their stuff, so I- uh- I was just thinking if it wasn’t too much trouble, maybe- um- maybe there was some kind of magic spell to protect or hide our camp?”

“Ah, I see.” Logan nodded. “That should be simple enough, as long as you give me a little time.”

“Alright!” Patton smiled. “I don’t have much magic, so I don’t know that much about it, but I know it can do all sorts o’ cool stuff, so I thought I’d ask.”

“Magic can be very powerful indeed.” Logan nodded. “A concealment spell is incredibly simple to perform, however, do you have any magic at all?”

“Barely,” Patton said with a roll of his eyes, before lifting his hand. Slowly, specks of light began to appear around his fingers, which started getting brighter and brighter, like a match lighting in slow motion. “This is about all I can do, I’m- uh- human- and we’re not really known for magical abilities…”

“That is impressive, and could be fairly useful in certain situations,” Logan told him. Roman was pretty sure Patton blushed, but the light from his hand fizzled out before he could get a good look. While they talked he moved to sit down on the fallen log they had found and chosen to build their camp around.

“You- you think so?” Patton asked as he struck the match to light the fire.

“Of course.” Logan nodded. “It would be very useful as a signal, or to find your way in the dark, negating the need for fire, it could also be a way to help us find you if you were to get lost, for example. You could also use it in combat as a method of incapacitating people by temporarily blinding them, if you can make it brighter.”

“Wow I- I never thought about any of that!” Patton said, smiling at Logan. Roman looked silently back and forth between them both as Logan’s star freckles brightened. The prince furrowed his brow, though the pair couldn’t see him in the dark. “I’m not really- um- one for combat, though.”

“No, I wouldn’t have guessed you were,” Logan said “In a battle setting I would probably have placed you in a healers tent, just from the aura you give off alone.”

Patton laughed, like tinkling bells and Roman narrowed his eyes at Logan, from whom he thought he heard a hitch of breath.

“Funny you say that,” Patton said after his giggles subsided. “I actually know bits and pieces about medicine—my mamma runs the apothecary in our hometown.”

“Ah, medicine is a very useful practice to know about.” Logan nodded. “I am training to become a wizard, as we mentioned. Speaking of, now would be a good time to set up a concealment spell. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Ok!” Patton nodded, coming to sit down next to Roman whilst Logan moved away to start working on the spell. Roman turned to face him, wondering what on earth he’d just witnessed, it had almost looked like…

“What about you, then?” Patton asked him, interrupting his train of thought. “Have you got magic?”

“Some.” Roman nodded in response. “I am not nearly as powerful as Logan is, however, nor my brother—my specialities lie in swordfighting, rather than magic.”

“Oh, neat!” Patton said with a smile, though he didn’t seem quite as enthused as he had been when talking to Logan. Granted he was still friendly and Roman didn’t feel like Patton liked him any less, he just thought… something was different. “You’re good with a sword?”

“Indeed!” Roman answered with a smile. “And a few spells, although they are mainly combat focused ones.”

“I see! I’ll be trusting you then, if our camp is ambushed by bandits,” Patton said, elbowing him with a grin before standing up to poke and prod at the fire with a stick. Roman smiled.

“You should trust in Logan’s spells, first and foremost, they almost never fail.”

“One time!” Logan called from across the clearing. “A spell went wrong one time and this is the treatment I get?”

“I trust your spells, Logan,” Patton said with an odd kind of grin that made Roman feel like fake-gagging just to prove a point.

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan said, before standing at the edge of the circle and murmuring a few nonsense spell words from some forgotten language. The runes he had drawn in the ground began to glow dimly, though they seemed bright in the dark. Patton stared at them, seemingly transfixed as the light pulsed once, twice, before shooting upward and forming a shimmering dome over them, then fading as if there was never any magic there in the first place.

“...woah,” Patton breathed, leaning back and looking up at the stars. “That was… beautiful.”

“Um,” Logan said eloquently, with a sort of choked off cough and Roman was glad for the darkness hiding the way his face split into a shit-eating grin, because he’d finally realised what was going on with his friend. “Er- thank you- I’m… glad you think so.”

Roman could barely contain a snort of laughter. He was pretty sure Logan was bright purple and Patton was no doubt smiling from ear to ear as the pair continued to talk for the best part of an hour whilst Roman tried in vain to fall asleep.

—-

Sleeping on the ground was an experience, and not a good one. Roman was uncomfortable, even with the mat and sleeping bags they’d bought. He thought he really couldn’t be blamed for that, he’d never slept on anything less than the perfect mattress before going on this trip so going from that to the literal dirt was a shock to his system. Doing it three nights in a row had done absolutely nothing to help this discomfort, in fact it had been almost bearable after the first night and just gotten worse from there.

When he woke up on the third morning, everything ached, his neck hurt and his shoulders were locked up. His back felt like it had been pulled and the feeling didn’t seem to go away no matter how much Roman stretched. Logan even had the audacity to laugh at him as he packed up in a grump. He thought his feelings were valid. Logan could make fun of him all he wanted for being a stuck up Prince who was uncomfortable sleeping in dirt. Screw him!

“Are we nearly there?” Roman grumbled, holding onto his bag straps. He really wanted to let his wings out for a flutter. He already felt so cooped up despite it only being the sixth day of their adventure. Obviously he couldn’t do that—not if he didn’t want Patton to know who he was, anyway.

“We’ve been walking for half an hour,” Patton said with a laugh, nudging his arm. “C’mon, cheer up!”

“I feel as though I’ve been run over by a carriage,” Roman grumbled, glaring at Patton, who really started laughing now.

“You’ll get used to it,” Logan told him. “For now, you’ll just have to deal with it, now stop moping if you will, we still have hours to walk and I really don’t want to have to deal with such a sour mood.”

Roman groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to respect me or something?”

“You’re the one who decided to bring another person along,” Logan pointed out, Patton waved as he acknowledged.

“Why does that mean you can’t respect him?” Patton asked, tilting his head a little as they walked.

“There is a lot of information you can’t be privy to,” Logan told him. “I would like to be as transparent as possible, but there are a lot of things we simply cannot tell you about ourselves and our mission. I hope you can understand.”

“...Alright.” Patton nodded. “You guys have your secrets, I know how important secrets can be, it’s okay.”

“Thank you, Patton,” Roman said with a half smile. “Really, though, couldn’t either of you have warned me about the repercussions of sleeping on the ground?”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Patton said with a shrug. “I’m pretty much used to it, so I didn’t think to warn you.”

Roman groaned, but nodded and tried his best to brighten up a little bit as they continued on their way.

—-

Just as Farfalia was lively and full of light and sound, Mirefeld was dingy and quiet. There were few people out on the streets and those who were sculked in corners and edges. It shot a feeling of unease straight down Roman’s spine that made him stand up straighter, much more alert now that they had entered the town proper.

Despite the sun still being up in the sky as afternoon was only just beginning to become evening, the light was blocked out by dark smoke billowing from chimneys. The ground was stained with soot and the windows in the buildings were fogged with dirt. Roman folded his arms, tucking his hands against his body almost as though he was giving himself a hug. This place felt off in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Come on,” Patton whispered, catching their attention in the eerie silence, “the inn is this way.”

Patton had spoken in hushed tones to the bartender, who looked like he could fold Roman like a lawn chair if he so much as stepped wrong. Neither he nor Logan had spoken since they’d gotten here, but Roman could almost tell that his friend felt the same way about all of this as he did.

They were still in his kingdom, and knowing that was the only thing that brought him comfort in this situation. If he were to reveal his identity the guards would come to their protection. So at least there was that.

—-

“Alright,” Patton told them when they finally stood in one of the rooms they had rented, away from the oppressive atmosphere of the rest of the town.

“This place gives me an odd feeling,” Roman said slowly. “I would prefer it if we didn’t stay here for any longer than necessary.”

“I am inclined to agree.” Logan nodded. “I would like to get the information we need and then leave as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, I- I think I underestimated how much you two wouldn’t fit in,” Patton said, with a strained laugh.

“That's alright, now, you mentioned, back in the capital, that taverns were the best place for information gathering,” Logan said. “So I suppose we should start here?”

“Yep.” Patton nodded. “Let’s go downstairs and see what information we get from the locals, alright?”

“That sounds like a plan,” Roman said, placing his pack down on one of the beds. “Logan?”

“That is the best plan we have right now, so I suppose we will follow your lead, Patton,” Logan nodded. Patton smiled back before leading them out of the room and back down into the tavern below.

<- Previous | First | Next ->

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #rowans fantasyau #rowans writings #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #sanders sides au #logicality

19 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 4 years

Text

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are. Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile. Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp #virgil sanders #percy jackson au #pjo!au #fighting #weapons #violence #found family? in my fics? its more likely than you think #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

411 notes · View notes

lilfellasblog · 3 years

Text

King Roman and the Fake Harem

Summary: King Roman has enemies directly outside his walls, pressure from inside his walls to get a harem, and no solution in sight. Until he sees the solution has been right under his nose the entire time. This is the story of how an aroace King gets a harem of advisors.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Two brief instances of sexual harassment, one instance of groping, swearing (because Virgil), and people sneering at sex workers/ presumed sex workers.

Word count: 2385

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

King Roman sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, give me a few hours to think of something,” he groaned.

His lead advisor that he’d inherited from his father, who Roman refused to refer to as anything but Orange, protested “But sir, we need a decision soon. It’s already been a week since enemy troops positioned themselves just outside our walls, and we’ve done little besides ask them to leave. That, on top of your lack of harem-”

“I’ll have something for you in two hours, regarding the troops,” Roman said, waving Orange away.

Orange huffed and spun on his heel, leaving the throne room grumbling. Roman brushed a hand over his face. A week into being king and the enemy decides to attack? The nerve!

“You know, if you roll out the catapults to the front gate, that would take care of the troops outside the walls on that side, and then you could concentrate your archers on the rear of the kingdom walls.”

Roman looked over to the side of his throne. Sir Virgil had been his best knight, until he’d been shot by an arrow that had permanently damaged his shoulder. That was 4 weeks ago, he was still in a sling, and ever since he’d been released from the medical wing he’d been making his lack of work everyone else’s problem.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And just how would you propose moving the catapults from the armory down 100 feet of stairs to the front entrance, hm?”

Sir Virgil shrugged. “Ramps.”

Roman stopped short. Oh, he’s smart. “...very well.” He appraised Virgil. He’ll never be able to be a knight again and he needs something to do, and he’s not too unfortunate-looking… “How would you like a job?”

/////

Virgil adjusted the silks that hid exactly nothing of his upper body so they’d sit comfortably over his still-bandaged arm and shoulder. He was about to join his first ever advisor meeting, and he was beyond nervous. He’d been rather enjoying his life as the first member of Roman’s harem (that so far hadn’t even resulted in a single flirtatious remark, which Virgil wasn’t complaining about but he was certainly confused by), and he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up.

“Ready?”

Virgil jumped and hissed through his teeth as his shoulder was jostled by the sudden movement.

Roman was frowning. Before Virgil could apologize, Roman asked, “Are you alright? I can have a healer come over. If you’d prefer to sit out this meeting and rest, that would be a more than acceptable course of action.”

Virgil was stunned. “Huh?”

Roman nodded at him. “Your shoulder, it seems to be causing you pain.”

“Oh! It’s not too bad, I’ll be fine. Still getting used to not moving it too much.”

Roman laughed. “Yes, that I have been witness to. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Do I need to walk, like, meekly or whatever?” Virgil asked, cheeks already heating up at the future humiliation.

A look of disgust came over Roman. “No, I wouldn’t expect that of anyone under my employ.”

Virgil let out a breath. “Alright, cool cool.”

The meeting started out as expected, a few snickers from his former co-workers who were still knights, but nothing Virgil couldn’t ignore. Virgil recognized Orange by his blaze orange ensemble that hurt his eyes (no wonder Roman refused to give Virgil his actual name). When it came time to discuss military tactics, Roman spoke first.

“I would like to introduce my military advisor, Sir Virgil. Sir Virgil, if you would, please announce your strategy for driving off the enemies.”

Before Virgil could get a word out, Virgil’s former boss blurted out, “You’re trusting your military strategy with a common whore?!”

Virgil levelled him with his best death glare. “Call me that again and I’ll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

Only Virgil was close enough to hear the King swallow his laughter at the general’s paling face. Roman cleared his throat and spoke.

“To answer your question, yes. Sir Virgil, if you wouldn’t mind continuing?”

Virgil smirked. “Gladly.” For the next 20 minutes, Virgil confidently discussed his strategy with the catapults and archers, fielded questions, and specified the ideal placements. As the meeting drew to a close and Roman went to do the obligatory schmoozing with top leaders (Virgil noticed with glee how the military personel scrambled to get out, supposedly to “update the troops”), the Lead Advisor of Common Education approached Virgil. Virgil did the customary respectful bow, which the advisor returned.

“I trust King Roman is treating you well?” he inquired, blue eyes sparkling from beneath a sandy fringe.

“Yes, very much so. This fucked up rotator cuff is the best thing to happen to me,” Virgil internally winced at his choice of words. Gonna have to work on that.

The advisor just laughed. “I suppose it must be! Surely, being part of a harem is much more comfortable than being a knight.”

Virgil shrugged, and winced as he once again forgot about his injured shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I’m just glad I can help in some capacity by being a strategic advisor.”

“Yes, yes, that must be quite fun for you,” the advisor purred. Virgil bristled at his condescending tone. “Do let me know if you require more… attention than what King Roman provides.”

Virgil wrinkled his face. He focused on Roman, and heard his attention was on Orange who was insisting that one person could hardly be considered a harem. “I think I’m good.”

“Oh, of course, of course, but do keep me in mind.” And before Virgil realized what was happening, the advisor had patted his ass.

Virgil used his good arm to grab the man’s offending hand, twist him around, bring him to his knees, and place a foot on the middle of his back.

“Ow! You stupid whore, get off-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” King Roman thundered.

Virgil released the advisor. “This guy was perving all over me, and I get I’m part of a harem but I don’t stand for that shit.”

“It was just a love tap!”

King Roman’s face was red with anger. “Sir Virgil, he encroached on your person?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“You are relieved of your duties.”

Virgil sagged while the advisor smiled smugly. Welp, the grapes and silk were fun while they lasted. “Yeah, okay.”

Roman jerked back a bit in confusion. “What? No, you,” he glared at the now-ex-advisor.

The advisor was aghast. “Excuse me? How dare you!”

“How dare you, touching a man without his consent and then having the gall to speak to me in such a tone!”

Virgil was in too much shock to process the rest of the conversation. He came back to his senses just outside the medical wing. Roman was instructing the doctor to recheck Virgil’s bandages as they didn’t seem to quite hold his shoulder still, and sighed in relief when he caught Virgil watching them.

“Virgil, there you are! Are you alright? Say the word, and I’ll arrange for you to speak with our mind doctor.”

Virgil blinked a few times.

Roman turned back to the doctor. “Could he have gone into shock? Does he need-”

Virgil shook his head to unfreeze his brain. “No, I’m fine. I’ve had people trying to kill me, part of the job, I’m okay.”

King Roman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? Truly, if you need to talk to someone-”

Virgil held his good hand up. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll talk to someone later if I need to.”

Roman sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Oh! The military is deploying your strategy as we speak! I thought I’d let you know before the good doctor looked you over.”

“Dope! Wait, what?”

King Roman was walking away. “I’ll see you once you’re tended to!” he called over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about, my shoulder… actually kinda hurts, okay fine.”

/////

One successful defeat of an opposing military later, and Roman had removed yet another advisor from his circle for creepy behavior.

“Hey Princey, I appreciate you defending my honor and shit, but that was the Lead Advisor of Trade,” Virgil began.

“And I’m better off without him!” Roman declared.

Virgil scratched his chin. “I mean yeah, but also you have a trade meeting with neighboring kingdoms coming up in a week, and two days after that you have an internal trade meeting with surrounding villages and the farmers within the city walls.”

Roman started stretching his arms and back in a way Virgil had identified meant he was stressed. “And there has been even more talk of my small harem, which does not bode well for external negotiations,” Roman murmured to himself.

Virgil shifted. “Yeah, that. Why don’t you just have your new advisors be part of your harem like me?”

Roman paused. “That’s… brilliant! Thank you Virgil!”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, no problem. It’s a pretty sweet gig. Although I don’t know why you haven’t-” he cut himself off with an awkward cough.

King Roman looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I’m not… particularly interested in those activities. I apologize if I’ve disappointed you.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I mean, I’m kinda relieved, not that you’re not hot! But I’d rather not break my two rules.”

Roman preened at the compliment. “What are your two rules?”

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.”

“Ah.”

“Look, there might be enough time to get someone else up to speed before the trade meetings. But you’ll have to choose someone quickly.”

Roman sat down in his throne and looked skyward in thought. “Are you familiar with Patton Hart? He’s already organized the internal farmers into their current union. What of him?”

Virgil remembered running into him right after a difficult mission and somehow ending up with a bag of tomatoes, a bag of bell peppers, and strict instructions to bathe and sleep. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

“How do you think he’d do as an advisor?”

Virgil didn’t have to think for long. “I think he’d be awesome. Want me to talk to him?”

“If you’d be so kind. And please assure him that his role would be strictly as an advisor.”

Virgil smirked. “You mean a shirtless advisor.”

Roman turned beet red, and Virgil cackled.

/////

Before Virgil knew it, the harem quarters weren’t so lonely. Patton had agreed to join, very happy with the wardrobe and quickly making a name for himself. Patton had, in turn, recommended Logan Logos to replace the other creepy advisor. Logan had run a very successful pre-K Montessori program before joining the palace harem, and he fit in with the rest of the advising circle well, already creating reforms to account for diverse learning styles. In fact, Virgil had noticed that the advisors who weren’t part of the harem started taking him and Patton more seriously once the proper and strong Logan had joined them.

The day of the inter-kingdom trade meeting had come, and Logan and Virgil would both be attending along with Patton. Everyone was nervous about how the sweet and gentle Patton would do at such a fierce and antagonist event.

Virgil’s shoulder was out of the cast and sling, although it was still tender. He clapped a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em,” he said, trying to be encouraging.

Patton flushed. “Thanks Vee.”

The meeting began, along with the customary hour-long political niceties, and finally it came time for the trade advisors to speak on their leaders’ behalf.

Virgil ground his teeth at the open snickering of Patton’s garb, and he could tell Logan and Roman were feeling the same way. Patton, however, seemed to be unaffected by it all. As expected, the Kingdom of Fiery Fields spoke first.

“King Roman, we propose a 5% increase of taxes for the crops we export to your kingdom, lest we cease all wheat exports to you.”

“You may call me Advisor Hart, and for what reason? We already pay you 12% more for your crops than other kingdoms.”

The platinum blonde man stared at Patton with haughty hazel eyes. “Because, Advisor Hart,” he sneered. “our crops are unmatched in quality!”

Patton nodded his head. “Fair point. I suppose you won’t mind a moratorium on all exports of our steel to your kingdom then?”

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room.

Platinum Blonde was outraged. “You wouldn’t!”

“Actually, we would. You are now meeting with the new King’s new advisory circle, and we won’t stand for pointless tax increases that a review of the books show only go to pay the noblewomen you’re cheating on your wife with,” Patton stated, smiling sweetly the entire time.

Half of the trade advisors around the table laughed, while the other half gawked. Platinum Blonde backed down, and the trade meeting lasted for only 2 days instead of the typical 3 since Patton effectively shut down any ego-based bullshitting that occurred.

/////

Virgil and Patton were taking turns trying to toss grapes into each others’ mouths, laughing, while Logan pretended to be irritated by their antics. The doors opened suddenly to show Orange, in his eye-burning all-orange ensemble.

“Hiya!” Patton chirped, hiding his own discomfort. They were all intensely disliked by Orange, who seemed to blame them for Roman not being interested in sex or romance.

Orange sniffed. “Advisor Logos, the noble King would like to extend his congratulations on the tax reform that redirected many of the fees of our noblepeople to educational supplies.”

Logan nodded at him. “Thank you. I’m quite proud of that myself and am very glad it came to fruition. Was their anything else you required, Advisor Wrath?”

“What?!” Virgil and Patton shouted at the same time. They whipped their heads over to Orange.

“No. Good day.” With that, Orange - or rather, Advisor Wrath - left their room.

Virgil and Patton turned back to Logan, who was seemingly reading again.

“Dude what the fuck-”

“How the heck did you know?!”

Logan just raised an eyebrow while continuing to read. “I have a way of finding things out,” he said, looking up for a second to smirk at them before going back to his book.

Virgil and Patton decided to not test Logan’s abilities.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #aroace Roman Sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #Sanders sides fanfic #Sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #ts sides

18 notes · View notes

snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 71]

Doing this until I have a meeting later.