#you activated my sword nerd neuron

[siderealscribblings]

I think you're on to something with that and it's supported by her kit in game (I like tying character powers in fics to their game mechanics). Furina is a very flowery, mobile swordfighter that flat out does not do a lot of damage with her normal attack. She's not Ayaka, Keqing, or even Jean; she's an aging theater kid who learned to fight probably by watching stage combat and her sword style reflects that.

Look at them broad, flowery movements, exaggerated beyond what is effective or prudent in a sword fight compared to Keqing or Jean's economy of motion

Even Nilou the other "dance battler" keeps herself relatively closed off as she pivots and drives the weapon with her hips

Furina is not a good swordfighter in her own right but her command of Hydro (in canon) makes up for it and allows her to do unconventional attacks like spinning on a bubble. So her footwork is probably excellent but when it comes to bladework she isn't an expert (she doesn't really have to be since her little water plushies regularly shoot for 15K+ per attack)

I just now thought of this question concerning Games of Divinity!

Is it planned as to WHEN Furina will take up learning the sword/does she already know???

She knows the pointy end goes in the other person and that the edge is also involved sometimes. Right now she's very Danny Kaye and will likely stay that way because this seems fun to write

That said, she did score a backstab on whatever the fuck Abyss!Lumine is so she's a better swordfighter than Dainsleif already

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Unflusterable

Warnings: Food mention, some swearing, Deceit and Remus are mentioned but super briefly, gay, a lot  of gay, like this fic is just gay Roman waiting to be really really soft with Virgil Pairing: Prinxiety (duh)

    Roman doesn’t get flustered.

    He’s a prince, after all! The romantic side of Thomas, dashing and bold and witty! He was the one who flustered all who even looked at him!

    So Roman was definitely, utterly, completely, not even a tiny bit flustered by the mere existence of Virgil.

That would be foolish! To fluster a prince of love such as himself, there would have to be dramatics! Proclamations of love! Flowing poetry and sugary nicknames!

Virgil didn’t do things like that. Virgil didn’t do anything romance related, really. He seemed happy to just be a brooding stormcloud of isolation, and that was fine by Roman.

Because Virgil wasn’t flustering him.

During movie night, when Virgil had accidentally fallen asleep leaning against Roman, his head falling on the Prince’s shoulder, and Logan commented Roman looked redder than a solanum lycopersicum? 

Roman was just a little warm- that’s all! After all, Virgil was leaning on him, and he was very warm, with all the heat caught in his hoodie, and he was right on top of Roman, face smooth and relaxed, breathing calm and gentle, looking so at peace-

Roman had just been making some observations. And overheating. Not doing something silly like crushing hard. Not him!

And that time when Roman had headed into the kitchen, only to find Virgil and Patton baking, and ended up remaining in the doorway until Patton asked him if he needed something?

Well, he had been creating all day! So many ideas and plans tire out a Prince! So he was paused in the doorway because he was tired. Not because he was in a dazed stupor, watching Virgil laugh and genuinely smile through Patton’s puns, and not because he noticed how Virgil had gotten some flour in his hair, dusting it white, and there was cookie dough on his cheeks, and how he still looked utterly drop-dead gorgeous anyways.

People looked at Roman and thought embarrassingly sweet thoughts like that. Not the other way around.

Or that time when he had gone to fetch the Dark sides to plan the next video, only to find them and Virgil engaged in a vicious water gun war and found himself unable to say a word until his half-brained brother shot him with a gooey substance that was decidedly not water?

He was simply surprised such activities went on in the dark and dreary corner of Thomas’s mind! It wasn’t like he had been caught off-guard seeing Virgil in action, eyes glinting even in the low light as he took a perfect shot at Deceit, looking so focused and engaged and confident, like a different person, yet just as breathtaking as always.

Because Roman. Did. NOT. Get flustered.

And as long as Roman could just remember this, he could stop doing silly things like constantly getting distracted. An occurrence that had nothing to do with whether or not a certain anxious side was in the room.

Armed with this knowledge, he left his room (where he had most certainly not been spending a few hours reminding himself he was unflusterable) and headed for the Commons.

And was almost immediately forced to test his so-called unflusterablitiy.

Because the Commons were empty aside from Virgil, who was doing nothing other than sitting on the back of the couch, leaning on it and peering tiredly at his phone screen. It was the most mundane, boring sight Roman could have imagined.

And yet he was once more frozen in place, cheeks feeling warm, focusing way too much on the way Virgil’s hair was messed up like he had just woken up, yet somehow looking adorable on him when it would just look hideous on anyone else. 

How his hoodie was only half-zipped up, showcasing the top of a Nightmare Before Christmas t-shirt, so incredibly casual yet incredibly lovable at the same time.

How, when he yawned, he stretched his back out like a cat might, his mouth a cute little ‘o’ before he slumped back into the couch, blinking tiredly at his screen like a perfect mess. 

How Roman desperately wanted to pull a blanket over him and gently push him down onto the actual couch, and tuck the blanket around him while Virgil weakly fought and slowly closed his eyes despite his protests, his hand snaking out to grab Roman’s wrist when he tried to leave and forcing him to come down and nap with him-

Fuck.

Before Roman properly had the time to contemplate how screwed he was, Virgil was glancing up from his phone, having noticed him. He smirked, and Roman wondered how it was possible for Virgil to have the same face as him yet be insanely prettier.

“Like wh-”

Before Virgil could even get close to finishing his thought, Roman had darted out of the room, racing to his room even faster than his heart rate. He slammed the door to his room the minute he was inside, throwing himself on his bed and burying his burning face in the cool silk sheets.

Romance did not get flustered.

Roman, however, very clearly did.

A few minutes later, he heard a couple of heavy, loud knocks on his door. He glanced at it, trying to decide if he really wanted to entertain a visitor when he was pretty sure he was still blushing.

“Ro? You in there?”

Virgil.

On one hand, Roman knew he should absolutely not open that door. The chance of him being stunned into silence within a second was guaranteed, and he had just started to fight the blush out of his cheeks.

On the other hand, it was Virgil. Roman was opening that door before he had even finished going through the pros and cons of the action.

The pro that was ‘seeing Virgil’ and the con of ‘will become severely flustered’ hit at the same time, Roman fighting the urge to grab Virgil’s hands- which were in the middle of worriedly yet familiarly worrying the edges of his sleeves- and simply hold them, maybe gently kiss the knuckles, as soon as he opened the door.

Through sheer will power alone, Roman managed to clear his throat and ask (impressively without stuttering), “Can I help you, That Gloomy Gentleman?”

Virgil’s mouth quirked into a quick smile at the nickname before quickly transforming into a frown. The effort Roman exerted to not draw his sword and stab himself for possibly causing that frown was Herculean.

“I was just wondering if, uh, if I had done anything?” He asked, haltingly, flinching when Roman stared at him in bewilderment. “You’ve been acting really weird around me recently, and you just sorta bolted from the room when I tried to speak to you, so I wanted to know if I had accidentally offended you, or hurt your feelings, or-”

“Of course you haven’t!” Roman interrupted, possibly a touch too passionately if Virgil’s shocked expression was anything to go by. He coughed, trying to reclaim the nonexistent dignity he was clinging too. “I mean, no, Virgil, I’m not upset with you. I’m sorry you perceived my actions as such.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Logan, you finally taking Deceit up on those costume lessons?”

“It’s me, Virgil. Roman, not Logan.” Roman said sincerely before attempting to reclaim his normal grandeur with, “I’m insulted you could ever even think that nerd could play a part as extravagant as mine!”

Virgil clearly didn’t buy it. “Uh huh. Well, if you’re really Roman, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“I did just mention the whole ‘freezes every time I’m in the room and just fucking ran when I tried to talk to you’ thing, right? If the problem isn’t me then it’s gotta be you.”

Roman laughed, trying to sound princely and ending up sounding nervous. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m the same-”

“I’mma stop you right there.” Virgil cut in, physically pressing a finger to Roman’s lips as he did. The touch was incredibly brief, but it had still fried Roman’s every neuron beyond thinking. “Something is clearly up. You might as well tell me now before I fetch Deceit.”

Normally, Roman could come up with a good dozen witty responses; at the least, a very indigent ‘you wouldn’t dare.’ 

At the moment, however, Roman’s mind was only capable of stringing together the words, “Virgil” and “pretty,” which was quite impressive all things considered.

What wasn’t impressive was the fact that these internal thoughts had, apparently, become external.

Virgil blinked rapidly at him, caught off guard. He had just opened his mouth to say something when Roman slammed the door on him.

He regretted the action immediately, but it was that or actually facing the truth and his stunningly attractive, impossible-to-look-away-from crush. Gay panic had made its choice.

“You know we can just rise into each other’s rooms, right?”

So, gay panic had just directly lead to him shrieking like a five-year-old and jumping ten feet in the air in front of his crush. Maybe dying from embarrassment was a better life choice.

Virgil sighed from behind him. “Just because you refuse to face me doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about the fact you just stuttered out, ‘Virgil pretty,’ before slamming your door in my face.”

Roman ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, but I have half a chance not stumbling over every single word I say like this.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Roman sighed. Better to just tell him. Maybe then no one would question him when he started walking around blindfolded, considering as long as Virgil existed that was going to be the only way he could keep his thoughts about him.

“Virgil, I- every time I see your face, I see stars in your eyes and sunlight in your smile. Every time you speak, silver bells ring and angels sing. Every time you so much as blink you steal my own breath. You’re… you’re so many types of beauty, and I’m bowled over by all of them.”

“Y’know, you could have just said something like, ‘every time I see you I cannot deal.’”

Roman huffed. “You are ruining my dramatic profession of love.”

“More like cheesy.” Virgil replied, before continuing, tone lightly teasing, “And what I’m getting from that ‘dramatic’ cheesefest is that I have flustered Romance, which according to you is impossible.”

“It is.” Roman said, a small smile on his face. “Turns out flustering Roman is a lot more plausible, however.”

Still teasing, Virgil asked, “Roman, do you have a crush on me?”

“Crush feels like an understatement at this point.”

“And, oh Blushy Prince of Romance, what do you think would happen if you knew a certain somebody had a crush right back at you?”

Roman swallowed past the suddenly huge lump of Gay in his throat. “I think I’d die.”

Virgil chuckled, sounding closer than he should have been until Roman felt Virgil’s arms settle lazily around his neck, the direct source of his overwhelming Gay panic pressed against his back and tucking his head into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“Then perish.” Virgil said, mouth much, much too close to Roman’s ear, breath warm, and he leaned forward a bit, moving his head just slightly to plant a kiss on Roman’s cheek and- yep, there it was, Roman’s last brain cell, floating away in the breeze.

Powered entirely by Gay panic, Roman twisted his head when Virgil pulled away, just managing to catch the other’s lips. The kiss was horribly awkward, both of them craning their necks for it to work, but Roman was kissing Virgil- his head could fall off in the next moment for all he cared.

They broke apart after a minute, Virgil’s smile quickly transforming into a smirk as he saw how dazed Roman looked. “You really are a gay mess, aren’t you?”

In a different world, where Roman currently had the skill to string together words, he would have responded, “Well, I’m a mess, and I’m very gay, so I’d say yes,” or something that sounded like he still had his wits with him.

Roman chose to just count his lucky stars he only babbled senselessly for a few seconds before just nodding. Virgil laughed.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

And here Roman was thinking it wasn’t possible for his cheeks to get any redder.

Instead of defending himself, he just reached up to hold Virgil’s arms from where they were still dangling around his neck, tugging them tighter around him, treasuring the warmth and the light smell of lavender that clung to Virgil.

Roman let out an over-the-top dreamy sigh before letting his head fall backwards so he could see Virgil’s face. So he was probably going to spend the rest of his life stumbling over his every other statement while constantly looking like he had a terrible sunburn.

Seemed a fair price to pay for such a perfect view.