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the-volume-is-astronomical · 4 years ago

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The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

The Tower

A/N: mi gente im just trying something out and seeing if people like it :] ive had this done for like months and months on end and i finally decided to share it so em enjoy

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words: 2380

summary: Roman’s stomach is making it very clear that this talk wasn’t going to end well... as long as he doesn’t end up in that tower.

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, disappearance mention, flashback, crying

(let me know if theres any other)

Roman felt himself waking up, maybe because of the stupidly bright sun hitting his eyes, he didn’t know how that was possible since he remembered closing the red velvet curtains shut tight, so he didn't have this exact issue. So, when he heard some ruffling and things being moved around he wasn’t all that surprised.

¨Rise and shine, you little brat¨ Ruth said in a very tired but demanding voice.

¨Oh dear nurse, allow me five more minutes¨ Roman whined putting a pillow over his eyes so he could block out the rude sun.

¨Oh, flattery will get you nowhere, mister.¨ Roman could hear Ruth moving around the room, preparing breakfast no doubt. Roman took the pillow off his face and sat up, hair a wreck, and his eyes squinting because of the light coming from the window.

¨And he finally rises,¨ Ruth said sarcastically.

¨Yeah, yeah, the dashing prince has awoken.¨ Roman said half asleep. Ruth helped him sit down so he didn’t trip over anything and started serving him breakfast, she wasn’t going to wait for him to finish eating as she was already heading for the big oak doors.

¨Wait!¨ Roman sobered up, Ruth flinched a little at the shout but turned around anyway ¨Can I do anything for you?¨ She asked.

¨ Come eat with me, you for sure haven’t eaten anything today.¨ Ruth went to argue but closed her mouth when she noticed she, in fact, had not eaten.

She sat down in the chair in front of the royal, Roman made a few hand gestures as if to show she was open to take anything, she knew the monarch wouldn’t eat until she had settled for something so, she took a piece of bread and started eating, as did he.

After a few moments of silent eating Ruth spoke up ¨I still don't understand, after all these years you haven’t become a spoiled brat that doesn't care for his servant¨ Roman didn't even look up at her he just said ¨I guess you raised me well.¨ Ruth almost choked on her bread and looked at Roman as if he had gone insane. “Oh come on don't be so humble Ruthie!¨

She still looked at him confused and a little annoyed at the nickname but mostly surprised he would say anything of the sort, ¨Ruth, you are my nurse. You have been with me my entire life, You fed me when I was a baby for god sake! I consider you a mother, even if I have another mother in the throne room right now,” Roman shivered at the thought of having to talk to his parents after the events of the past week but continued anyway “and I sure as hell think of you as the person who raised me.¨

Once he had finished he immediately put a mouth full of food and kept eating as if hadn’t given that speech. Ruth still looked shocked but cleared her throat ¨Well, then I made you a sap!¨ Roman started laughing ¨How will your future spouse ever forgive me?¨ Roman burst out laughing and Ruth gave a small chuckle.

Ruth stood up and went to Roman's closet to gather his outfit for the day, while he finished breakfast. She threw the clothes at him “Hey!¨ Roman made his trademark over dramatic gasp. She sighed “I unfortunately also gave you my dramatics…”

“And I don’t resent you for that!” Roman screamed back with a big smile on his face.

Ruth looked like she had something on her mind. Roman didn’t have to wait much before she said what that was, he never did. ¨Would that make you and my Remy brothers?¨ she said, actively ignoring the prince’s comments. Roman stood up going towards his shoji screen to change behind. ¨Ha! We already consider each other brothers so it wouldn’t be much of a change.¨ Ruth started making his bed “Well this is new information to me.¨ Roman giggled a bit

¨Remy´s supposed to be back by noon, he passed a lot of territories to deliver this message so I sure hope he’s alright¨ Roman has always thought she was a worried mother even to him when he went on long trips.

Roman stepped out from behind the screen and reassured her ¨ He’s fine! He may act reckless but he's very calculating… but expect him a few hours later than what the estimated time of return” Roman slipped away looking for his shoes. ¨Oh and why is that?¨ she asked, hands on her hips, Roman gave a nervous chuckle.

Shouldn't have let that slip.

“Roman…” Ruth said in a warning tone. Remy was going to kill him but he didn’t want to die at his nurse’s hands “Remy’s been... seeing... this person a-and when his message trip aligns with where they live… he spends some time with the person so…” Ruth looked at him as if deciding something, “As Remy’s mother, I thank you for telling me the truth..” Roman was relieved “But, as your mother, I have to say…YOU SNITCH! Snitches get stitches for a reason!” Roman laughed genuinely and Ruth joined.

After their giggle fit, they heard someone knock on the door. Ruth went to answer the door, it was a guard “His and her highness request the prince’s presence,” Ruth thanked the guard and turned around and Roman looked mortified, “Roman, you have to talk to them.” Roman had never heard Ruth speak that soft. Roman only felt dread “Ruth I don't want to go” He was genuinely petrified.

“I understand, but they are very understanding and I believe they wouldn't punish you for simply trusting the wrong person” Roman shook his head “ They’re already so protective. They always had me under knight or guard surveillance but now they might do something so I won’t be able to sneak by” Roman was panicking and Ruth noticed, she walked up to him. And took his hand “Roman they just want the best for you…” Roman took his hand away from her own “No! They are just afraid they aren’t going to have an heir after one of them ran away.” Roman's hands were in his hair and his eyes started to glaze over.

Roman was very much not over his brother's apparent “disappearance”

“I understand Remus vanishing has affected your parents over protectiveness, BUT they have always aimed to protect you but after what happened...can you really blame them for it?” Roman sighed, Ruth forced his hands out of his hair, he took a shaky breath to calm down “No, but getting hurt is part of life! So what if I trusted the wrong person? Everyone does!” He gestured to the sky as if it was the only person listening, he felt so defeated.

“Well I can't change anything so, you should tell your parents that!” She didn’t know what to say to make things better. “I’ll try, let’s just hope they at least try to listen” he left it there and headed out of his bedroom’s oak doors, he never liked disagreeing with Ruth.

Roman walked down the long hallway towards the throne room but, of course, he wasn’t alone because that would be too much to ask apparently. Instead he was being escorted to see his parents by the guard that had informed him his parents required him. He already knew what they were going to talk to him about and he was dreading it.

Why did he have to make such a mistake?

Did the universe want him to not trust anyone after what happened?! If it would make the sinking feeling in his stomach leave then he would happily oblige.

The guard stopped at the throne rooms doors and Roman took a deep breath as the guard gave him side eye glance and opened the doors, “You required my presence?” Roman spoke trying to keep his voice steady and his head high, “Yes, Roman, we would actually like to talk to you about last week's event…?” He phrased it as a question a little too late. Roman’s father, King Leonardo, wasn’t an emotionally driven person and never was truly soft with anything he said, but he cared. The way he was soft spoken with Roman was just having the opposite effect that his father wanted.

Roman’s mother, Queen Victoria, was very comforting and always tried to shield her children from harm's way, but coming from a family of royals, she didn't have an example to follow but she wanted to be there for her child. “Roman, my little lion heart, I need you to keep in mind this is for your safety...ok?” Following everything by the book, always looking and being her best, so she would be a good example even if she wasn't nurturing, all she wished was for Roman to know she loved him and Remus with her whole being, Roman just gave her a tense nod as a response.

Roman’s Father spoke up, “Roman, you're going to be under knight supervision at all times,” That wasn't as bad as Roman expected, he basically already was! Anything but to be stuck in that damn tower “...And you have to stay in the south tower-” ...He should have knocked on wood.

“Father, I did nothing wrong! I shouldn't be punished for this-” Romans mother spoke up, she knew both her son and husband could be hot headed. She wanted to stop anything before it got the chance to begin “Roman this isn't to punish you! We want to protect you-” The Queen sounded like she was pleading with her son.

Roman did not hear her plea or just ignored it “...For how long do I have to stay there?” Roman’s mother spoke up, “Don't worry, you'll be there maximum 2-”

“Indefinitely.”

The King spoke in a cold unforgiving tone, Roman knew he had messed up big time. Victoria turned to her husband “Leo, we agreed he wouldn't be there for more than 2 fortnights, we agreed on that.” The Queen seemed upset but was obviously attempting not to show such emotion.

“Those were the rules we agreed to when he was a child and he would grant being punished” Both of Roman’s parents were staring at each other, showing they weren't going to back down.

Roman spoke, “Understood.” His voice was mostly monotone but tight, Victoria turned to him with an apologetic gaze. Roman shook his head. It was his own fault, his mother shouldn't blame herself for his actions.

“I'll tell Ruth, so we can pack.” Roman turned to leave but his father had more to say. “Before you go, Hugo won't be your assigned knight. One of the new recruits is climbing in status and popularity very quickly and he agreed to-” “babysit” Roman cut in. “-protect you. As long as I recommended him to Queen Marie for her armada”

As if things couldn't get any better, he had to meet this new recruit, he hoped they would at least get along. Roman just nodded and opened the door to leave. At that moment, Roman’s father called the guard that had escorted Roman to get the new recruit as soon as possible, he just left as quickly as he could.

His parents knew that not being around people and not being able to talk were some of the worse things that could happen to him. They decided it was going to be the way to punish him. Though, he never stayed for more than a month, now he understood why.

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

As Roman- basically power walked- back to his room, his brain tortured him with memories of his 7 year old self being forced onto the tower for the first time.

No! Please it was an accident-!

I won't do it again!

I won't- Please!

That was all he said as his father signaled the guards to take him, his mother not being able to look, turned her head away, trying to ignore every motherly instinct in her body to stand up and comfort her child.

The guards dragged him out of the castle- the only home he knew- and shoved him in a carriage, where Ruth was waiting for him. Ruth had always been happy around him but her expression was unreadable -looking back she seemed angry, he just hadn't seen her that way before- but, Roman didn't care. He threw himself onto Ruth and sobbed his tiny heart out, Ruth trying her best to calm him down, he eventually fell asleep. Three hours later, he was woken up by Ruth.

“Were here, principito”

Roman was scared. Ruth saw it in his eyes.

“Come on! You offend me, you really think I would let them take you to a scary place?”

The little royal could only muster a small “no”. Ruth took his hand and walked with him toward a tower. Roman thought it was beautiful, that's the day he figured beautiful things can hurt you.

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

Roman never got used to it. He always dreaded the ride there, all the build up to the feeling of nothingness. When he looked up at the tower, he got the same feeling that he did when he was 7, Roman learned to not look up. He’d always prefer being in the tower when he was a kid because, back then they allowed Ruth to stay behind with him. Now she would only go in the carriage with him and leave.

After they stopped allowing Ruth to stay with him, at least he had Hugo to bother, by asking him for stories of his adventures. He didn't have that anymore.

The only adventure story he had now was a vibrant red book, in the book shelf of the tower, the only fictional book in his whole collection. He will admit, it was a very smart move on his parent’s part. They always monitored what he read, filled his whole book shelf in the tower with Philosophy, Math, and Royalty etiquette. When he begged for weeks on end for an adventure book they granted him one but, they made sure it was the only book that was fictional. They wouldn't give him an adventure book based on real events, No! That would be giving Roman too much hope.

Good move.

#roman sanders #roman angst #sanders sides roman #ts roman #prinxiety #ts prinxiety #future prinxiety #sanders sides #ts princey

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callemreine · 4 years ago

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Heart-Shaped

I should warn you that this was not proofread at all but I just had to post it cuz I said I was gonna do it but then I got distracted by a million other things so it took a long time and there's this au august by @/tsshipmonth2020 next month and I wanna do a few of the prompts there so have this poorly written oneshot that was based on this post by @aplethoraofquotes

Ship: Prinxiety(I mean what else do you expect from me) and a little bit of implied logicality

Word Count: 2017

cw: caps / mention of something on fire / tentacles mention / swearing (just one)

“WHAT IS UP EVERYBODY?” Thomas exclaims for the video intro.

“FINALLY!” Roman angrily but excitedly shouts after. The two other light sides pop up to also complain about the lack of videos in production in the past year, all the while attempting to calm down the royal side.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m doing it now, ok?” Thomas shouts over the complaining sides to divert the issue at hand. “It hasn’t been particularly easy. You know that guys, right?” He continues as he glances at the empty spot at the bottom of the stairs. They all silenced with a guilty look on their faces aside from the logical side, as he has been the one trying to compose the internal panic Thomas continuously endures within the past year. “Okaaaay! Let’s lighten things up a bit! I’m so glad you guys are here because we are having another Q&A!” Thomas excitedly announces to the three sides present.

"Not to put your siren to sleep but, you can't just repeat an episode, Thomas," Roman interrupted.

"I do concede with Roman's opinion here, Thomas. Haven't we talked about the originality of your videos before? Continuously repeating concepts not only bore viewers but also lessens the probability of their engagement to any or all of your future content," Logan discusses.

"I don't think 'all' would be possible, Logan. But, Thomas, isn't there anything else we could do today, maybe? We have been gone for a while, kiddo, so maybe there's other stuff we could do?" Patton adds.

"Calm down, guys. You're all starting to sound like Virgil. But, let me explain first. We're doing a Q&A because, as you said, it's been a long time since the last video AND even longer since the last Q&A, and so much has changed since then," All the sides present appear to be content with the explanation provided.

"Plus," Thomas adds. "This one has a twist," he says directly to the side to his right. Logan slightly nods in approval but remains skeptical. "And, what might that be?" asked Roman.

"The questions will be provided by each of us," Thomas states with pride seen on his face. Roman and Logan met eye to eye with worry and slight fear in their eyes. "I'm sorry. Can you elaborate more on that, Thomas?" Patton worriedly asks.

"Well, we have to think of a question that we want everyone to answer. For example, I think of a question and each of you has to answer it,"

Now, all three sides share glances with worry seen in their faces. "Why do you all seem worried?" Thomas asks with a nervous chuckle. "Roman has been bothering me with this idea for a few months now, I thought you all would be okay with it," All eyes were on the royal side. "I didn't think of that idea…" He trails off.

Realization falls to the four after a few seconds. "Ahh. I forgot. I'm not your only 'imagine dragon'," Roman confirms their suspicions.

~*~*~

"Which one of us scares you the most?" Thomas asks the four sides present.

They all agreed to the concept Thomas has presented and seem to be convinced that 'playing wouldn't hurt.' They eventually got the anxious side to play as well after a few minutes of convincing(and bribing).

"I used to be scared of Janus' scales before but I'm fine with it now. Hmm... Oh! Remus' tentacles really creep me out," Patton answers and shivers a little with the mention of tentacles.

"I'm offended you're asking me! I AM A PRINCE! I have nothing to fear. And none of you can do actual harm to me as far as I'm concerned," The four give the royal side a 'refuse to take that answer' look. "Fine," he sighs in defeat. "Remus," he says with an unexplainable expression on his face. They all agreed before that they're allowed to not explain their answer if they aren't comfortable with it. So far, until the current question, only the anxious side's answers remained without explanation.

It's now Virgil's turn to answer and they wait for it even though they already seemed to know. "Roman," he stated. All the sides were taken aback but refused to ask him to elaborate. Roman's expression was unexplainable and distracted for the duration of the entire game.

~*~*~

After a few, they were now on the last question, and it was Patton's turn. He suggested that it should be a little personal but not too much, and they were still allowed to refuse to explain their answer. They were all skeptical, so they agreed that if the question Patton thought of was too personal for them, they'll just rethink another question and edit out that section for the final cut of the video.

"Okay, what was your worst romantic gesture?" Patton asked. They all nod to signal that they were all comfortable answering the question.

"Well, I am the romantic side so I don't think I even HAVE a bad romantic gesture..." Roman answers but continues to think of an incident. "Oh. One time, I had a crush on someone and I didn't know how to handle it, so I filled their room with heart-shaped confetti…" Roman answered while rubbing the back of his neck from embarrassment.

Virgil's head shot up to look at the royal side. "That was YOU?" He didn't mean it to be that loud. He immediately covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his head back down, avoiding the others' glances.

Roman blushed and froze in place. He forgot that Virgil was right next to him.

Thomas made a mental note to cut the video from after Roman's answer to before Virgil's answer.

"I left them flowers but I never told them it was from me" Virgil tried to make his answer as vague as possible to prevent any more mishaps. Thomas and the other two sides could almost hear the cogs turning inside Roman's head as they heard Virgil's answer.

~*~*~

After their recording session was finished, the four sides sank down to return to the mind palace. They all rose up in their living room except for Virgil as he is the only one allowed to rise up anywhere directly from the real world. An ability Logan plans to learn about soon when Virgil allows him to. Roman retreats to his room, still processing Virgil's answer earlier. While Patton asks Logan to help him prepare their dinner, he also processes Logan's answer to the last question of their game earlier.

*time skip brought to you by Roman's band references*

Virgil was, no surprise, wide awake in the middle of the night, still reading the little notes written on the "confetti." Apparently, Roman thinks that tons of pieces of paper, three inches in size, are considered confetti. Some of them have lines from song lyrics. Some with lines from poems. While some were just plain feelings. How Roman described Virgil's eyes and how beautiful he looked in his makeup that day in small letters written on the piece of paper (front and back) almost made him melt. And how Roman apologized for how he treated Virgil before made him regret not putting a note or not giving the flowers to Roman personally instead of leaving them on the royal side's bedside table.

*flashback brought to you by my hopeless romantic ass*

Virgil just finished his shoot with Thomas for his "80s-Glam-Virgil" look. At first, he wouldn't stop complaining about why he gets to have a glam look while Logan and Patton got the casual look. Eventually, he let it go cuz' he slowly was starting to like the look. After the shoot, he was so exhausted that he couldn't bring himself to rise up in his room directly so he rose up in the mind palace living room and dragged his limp body to his room.

As he opened his door, pieces of paper flooded a small portion of the hallway in front of his room. He looked inside and saw that his entire room was flooded too. He went inside and snapped his finger to close the door and to get the papers outside back into his room. He was too tired to deal with the suspected "prank" at hand so he snapped his finger once again to gather all of the papers into a giant box to keep in his closet for the time being.

The box remained untouched for months.

*end of flashback*

Roman sat on his bed, staring at the red roses he kept in a vase on his dresser. It was made of red heart-shaped pieces of paper glued together to the shape of a rose. Something about it seemed familiar yet mysterious. Roman could sense it was made with the magic from the imagination, but it wasn’t his. And, it definitely wasn’t Remus’, for obvious reasons. There was a bit of dark but endearing and comfortable aura. Roman laid his back on the bed in defeat. Covering his face with his hands as he blushes and groans at the same time. He tried to get some sleep but couldn’t keep his suspicions off his mind.

His knuckles hover on the purple door for a few moments before fully knocking, knowing the side behind it was also wide awake. He heard some paper shuffling and a sliding door closing after, presumably a closet door. A few moments pass before the door opens just enough for a part of Virgil’s face to peer out. “Please tell me this is as important as something burning on fire or I am slamming this door on your face,”

“Uh… Not really but-” Virgil resumes to close the door only for Roman to grab the door frame at the last second. “Ah, shit!” Roman whisper-shouted.

Virgil returned to his bed, leaving Roman in his current state, not even bothering to close the door anymore. Eventually, Roman let himself in, clutching his hand. He sat down on the beanbag in the corner, glaring at the other, while Virgil stayed on his bed with a blank expression. Virgil, then, gestured to Roman expectantly as if to let him continue what he was going to say.

Roman, then, slowly lowered his hand but continued to glare at Virgil. “Was it me that you gave the flowers to?” Roman asked skeptically. Virgil seems to have lost his confidence and slowly lowered his head, unable to look at Roman. “I'm gonna take that as a yes. You know, you could have easily gotten away with giving me flowers if you told me that you also gave the others flowers, seeing that it was Valentines that day,” Roman, amused, grinned smugly.

“Still not as sappy as your stunt,” Virgil snickered, glancing at his closet door. “Yeah, about that… I’m actually glad you didn’t bring it up anymore cuz’ it was actually a spur in-moment kind of thing,” Roman confessed, averting the other’s gaze. Virgil admitted it was actually kind of sweet and that he hasn’t finished reading each of the notes.

“Sooo…” The anxious side trailed off. The tension was so thick that both of the sides were staring at the floor as if it was a fireworks display. “Sooo…? You like me too…?” Roman started. “I mean, I thought I made that pretty clear when I answered the question about our worst romantic gesture,” Virgil chuckled and blushed as he attempted to catch the other’s eye. “Well, I like you too,” Roman blushed, and the two fell in comfortable silence before Virgil patted the spot beside him to invite Roman to sit with him.

Virgil’s smile fell suddenly as he looked at the taller side next to him and asked “So, what now?” Roman looked back at him with a small smile and gently reached for the other’s hand, “You tell me. I’m down with anything you’re comfortable with,” Virgil laid his head on the other’s shoulder with a sad smile, “Can you just stay here for a while?”

“I can do that, Mr. Darkside,” Roman replied with a quiet voice.

Yeah sorry this has "written at 2 am" vibes. Cuz half of it is. Also I just found out that I don't know how to write dialogue by Patton or from his perspective at least. And I am very proud of the band references my 2 am brain thought of

Also thank you to @thethreeunity for the last-minute comments before my sorry ass posts this without giving it a second thought XD love you lots Trin <3

Bonus:

“What is it with you and your band references today?”

“I was hoping you’d notice,” Roman answered with a chuckle.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #prinxiety fic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #implied logicality #em writes

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madpatkats · 4 years ago

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“Please...Stay?”

Ship: prinxiety Description: Roman feels the tears form in his eyes as he thinks about Virgil leaving. Feeling it twisting in his stomach, Roman knew what he had to tell Virgil. Tw: A little bit angsty, kissing

“How long?”

Looking through his bangs, Virgil’s eyes glittered with something desperate.

“Uh...” he muttered. “I leave tomorrow afternoon.”

Forcing a small smile, Roman nodded. He knew that this mission was important for them but... something about it made Roman want to hide away. Perhaps it was the fact that there was a possibility Virgil wouldn’t return.

“Are you sure you have to do it?” Roman asked softly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah... I mean, it’s not like I desperately want to but... I have to, right? I have to lead an-and help even if... I’d prefer to be here with-”

He cut himself off, stopping the words from slipping through his lips. Carefully, Roman reached forward and held his roommates hand. Thinking about Virgil being away, Roman almost couldn’t breathe. Though they didn’t always get along, he felt completely lost if the emo wasn’t there. Tears forming in his eyes, Roman tries to push down the sickness he feels but it refused to go away.

For the next few hours, they tried to ignore the obvious future that loomed over their heads. But as Roman watched Virgil begin to pack up some of his belongings, he felt like he’d break down any second. That his feeling would be left unknown and eat him from the inside out. Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do.

“Well um,” Virgil spoke, still hunched over his bags, “I think I’ve packed enough for now but-”

“I’m in love with you!”

Stiffening, Virgil turned to face Roman. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.

“What? Uh-I-”

Eyes sad, Roman stepped forwards. “I know, I know, okay? I shouldn’t have told you because you don’t return my feelings and I’ve probably messed up everything and-”

“No,” Virgil whispered, tears clearing away some of his makeup. “That’s not what I was going to say at all. It just makes leaving so much harder.”

Gently, he placed his paper-white, trembling hand on Roman’s cheek, wiping away some of his tears.

Barely above a whisper, Virgil said, “I love you too.”

Roman couldn’t tell if this was better or worse. Now that they knew each other’s feelings, Virgil’s departure would be heart-breaking. Gulping, Roman held Virgil’s other hand again.

“Please...Stay?”

The emo looked down. “Roman...”

“Look, I know you don’t want to do it, and I’m sure that they will understand! Do you really want to force yourself into something that you will hate?”

Purple eyes met green ones.

“And...” Roman pulled Virgil closer. “If you don’t want to stay for yourself then... stay for me? Please?”

Wiping away his tears, Virgil smiled. “Okay.”

Unable to resist, Roman wrapped him in a tight embrace. They laughed into each other’s shoulders, just relishing in their happiness. When they finally pulled away, Roman couldn’t help but stare at Virgil’s flushed face. Gently, he lifted his hand under Virgil’s chin.

“Can I...”

“Please.”

When they met in the middle, the world around them seemed to dissolve. And they knew that they would always have each other.

#I hope this is good #it might not be but oh well #prinxiety #sanders sides #roman sanders #ts roman #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts prinxiety #tw kissing

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thecatprince · 5 years ago

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Moments

Read on AO3

Another Prinxiety fic based on the events of FWSA?? From me?? no.....

Summary: Roman remembers every moment he has ever spent with Virgil, but nothing beats this one.

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: none

(mild spoilers for FWSA)

Enjoy :)

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Roman remembered every single moment he had ever shared with Virgil. Every time he had talked to Virgil, every time Virgil had smiled at him, every movie night, every argument, every breakdown. He remembered hating Virgil with a passion, hating how he kept ruining his plans of adventure and romance, how he always seemed to hold him back. He remembered seeing Virgil as he truly was for the first time, taking the first steps towards acceptance, realising that while Virgil did sometimes hold him back, he also pushed him forward and how he made them better. He remembered slowly growing closer with Virgil, watching and rewatching The Nightmare Before Christmas until both of them could recite it by heart, giving each other makeovers, teasing each other the way they did before, but this time with fondness behind the nicknames instead of malice. He remembered the moments when Virgil had confided in him, sharing insecurities and fears late at night, both of them kept up late by anxious thoughts and creative ideas. He remembered how Virgil had spent hours comforting him and just being with him after his breakdown after Janus’ acceptance, how he had promised he would always be there for Roman, how he was the only side Roman actually trusted at that moment, and how in his weakest, most vulnerable moments, Virgil was the one he turned to, because after years of struggling and arguing and name calling, they had become closer than either of them ever imagined was possible.

But nothing could ever compete with this moment. The devastation at losing a chance with this perfect guy, Virgil pushing Thomas forward, finally taking that leap, and the complete and utter elation that followed it. Roman felt the happiest he had ever been, and Virgil, well Virgil was simply glowing. His lips were pulled into a large smile, his eyes were shining and his eyeshadow was a sparkling purple. He looked radiant, and Roman could hardly believe this was the same person who had spent years hating him, because that Virgil was always sullen and snarky, but this Virgil looked like the sun shone out of him. In Roman’s eyes, he looked perfect.

Without thinking, Roman surged forward, picked Virgil up and spun him around. “Virgil, you wonderful, wonderful person, you did it! We did it! Oh I could kiss you!”

Roman watched as Virgil’s eyeshadow brightened slightly and he realised what he had said. He quickly put Virgil down and looked away slightly, his cheeks quickly turning a bright red.

“I mean, I would like to…may I, I mean may we-” He was cut off by a pair of gentle lips against his own. The kiss only lasted a second, but it was the best second of Roman’s life. He looked at Virgil, who was so close he could see the flecks of green and purple in his eyes, and whose eyeshadow was now a sparkling purple, the brightest he had ever seen it. Roman couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him again, and so he did, pulling Virgil closer to him and cupping his face and neck with his hands and pressing their lips gently together. Virgil responded, threading on hand through Roman’s hair and placing the other on his shoulder and deepening the kiss.

Kissing Virgil was better than Roman could have ever imagined. His lips were surprisingly soft, his mouth was warm and he tasted of black liquorice (which Roman liked). He could smell the faint smell of lavender and something else that was unmistakeably Virgil. Kissing Virgil made him feel on top of the world, so light and free, and it filled him with a gentle warmth that he had only felt briefly before. Kissing Virgil was arguably the best moment of his life.

Eventually, when air became an issue, they broke apart, foreheads pressed together. Virgil’s breath was warm on Roman’s skin, and his cheeks were a rather gentle shade of pink, complimenting his eyeshadow, which was still a glittering purple. Roman gently stroked Virgil’s cheek with his thumb, tracing over the eyeshadow.

“Thank you,” Roman murmured. Virgil gave a confused look.

“For what? Kissing you? Because all you had to do was ask.”

Roman gave a huff of laughter. “No, not that, for pushing Thomas. I know that it must’ve been hard for you.”

“Oh, I don’t really know what that was to be hone-”

Roman cut Virgil off with a quick kiss. “Bravery. That was bravery Virgil. I know you were scared and you did it anyway. And it means more to me than you could possibly imagine. So, thank you.”

Virgil gave Roman a smile. “Well, I did it for you, you know. Also, if that is how you are going to shut me up in the future I have absolutely no complaints.” For him… Virgil had done it… for him? Roman felt his heart swell, and an overwhelming sensation fill his chest.

Roman gave a small smile, but he seemed otherwise lost in thought. “Ro, you good there?” Virgil asked hesitantly, eyeshadow flickering back to black. Roman seemed to slowly come out of his own head and looked into Virgil’s eyes.

“You did it… for me?” he murmured. Virgil looked surprised by this question.

“Of course I did, idiot. I didn’t do it for the girl at the counter.”

“It’s just that no one has ever done something like that for me… why did you do it?”

Virgil gave a small sigh, looked deep into Roman’s eyes and pulled him a little closer. “Because you were sad. Because you been so hurt lately, and I couldn’t let this be another thing that caused you pain. You deserve happiness, Roman, and if what I did made you even the slightest bit happy, then I would do it again and again. What you want matters, and you wanted this… and so did I. Because I care about you.”

Roman felt something stir in his chest, an overwhelming feeling of both love and realisation. Virgil did it because he thought Roman mattered, that his wants mattered. Virgil cared about him. No one had ever done anything like that for Roman, said anything like that to Roman, and the fact that Virgil had said it, done it, meant more to him than anything else in the world.

“You right there Princey?”

Roman snapped out of his thoughts and focused back in onto Virgil. He surged forward and drew Virgil into another kiss, too overwhelmed with emotions to articulate his thoughts.

After a couple of seconds they broke apart again. “Thank you.” Roman said again. He wanted to say everything he was feeling and make Virgil realised how much what he did meant to him, but he was so overwhelmed by emotion and nothing he said could ever accurately show how much Virgil’s words or actions meant. Luckily, Virgil smiled, pecked Roman on the lips and pulled Roman into a hug, so he assumed that Virgil understood at least a little of what he was trying to say.

The two stayed there for a long time, hugging, kissing and talking. Roman felt surrounded by love and comfort, and although nothing he said or do will ever repay Virgil for his actions, or tell Virgil exactly how he felt, or how much he meant to him, Roman was prepared to spend every moment of the rest of his life trying.

----

Comments are greatly appreciated!!

#cat writes #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfic #ts spoilers #sanders sides #roman my beloved #virgil sanders

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baka-monarch · 5 years ago

Text

Masterpost

A list of the fics I’ve written

Links to my fics under the cut!!!!

It’s A Small World masterlist

______________________________________

Vergilius masterlist

______________________________________

The Lion’s Den (sander sides fnaf au)

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The Other Side (hero fic) (part 1)

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Short Stories/One Shots

Azul Amor

Azul Amor alternative ending

What The Fuck!?

300 followers DTIYS

The Prank Wars End

Separate Rooms

The Masked Man (Dream SMP)

Lava (Dream SMP)

Lava part 2

Heros And Villains (Dream Team fic)

The Borrower Spy

Little Bitch Gremlin

Hair

Honeyed Blood Over Fresh Snow

Snake Bites

Tommy becomes a child (reblog from @bluedragonfairy2000 original post)

The Lost Ender Prince (prologue)

Pork chop

Last One Awake

Flower Crowns

Walking Corpse

Limbo

Tomburger Dreamons

c!Roman lore

Without Dream (dnf fic)

Dream fae au thing

Don't read this, I'm adding since I try to add everything to my master post

My Garden

The Monster In The Tower (Spotlight submission)

_______________________________________

Series (or possible future series/multi chapter)

_______________________________________

Princey And The Curse Teaser

_______________________________________

The Fairy Circle (part 1/?)

______________________________________

Rat Remus part 1

______________________________________

Caught (garden people bench trio au)

_______________________________________

Innocent (part 1)

Innocent (part 2)

_______________________________________

Dirt Crawlers

Dirt Crawlers part 2

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Bats and Beasts

Turned Part 1

Turned Part 2

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God au 2.0

Unforgettable Mistake

The Captain's Woods

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The bells toll til sorrow

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Testing au (mcyt prime boys au)

Loading.... (Part 1)

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FNAF mcyt au

Sam Nook's Side Kick (part 1)

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Father Knows Best

Vore Shorts

Secure

Easter Treats

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Asks/Requested Promts/short stories

Toaster Demon

Platonic Moxiety g/t friends

Bestie Analogical

Roman’s shrinking ego

Prinxiety Pizza fight

When Patton fell for Logan

Sounds like the dumbest thing I have ever heard, let’s do it

Betta fish Roman

Yandere Roman pt 1

Prinxiety Pillow

Yandere Roman pt 2

Magnus Chase au (I wanna make more of this one)

Absorbing Feelings

Anxceit “Don’t worry, I’ve got you”

Mouse Roman (part 1?)

Freinds Of A Nemesis (analogical batman au)

Sugar and Drink (LAMP)

Song and Picture (prinxiety)

Heat and Success (Virgil and Patton)

Late Night Chat (prinxiety)

Just A Little Emo Chapter 1

Foosteps/Risk

I Can Do This (g/t Anaroceit)

Tiny Charlie being read to by Phantom Wilbur

Giant mer Ranboo and human Tubbo

Admin Dream and borrow Tubbo and Tommy

Tommy and Dream manhunt

Cat Tommy and mouse Dream

Babysitting thing (gotta finish)

Space (day 1 of voretober)

Snippets

Skizz eats gem in his sleep

Part two of skizz and gem

Etho plays with joel in his mouth

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snowdice · 3 years ago

Note

hello! had a quick question about a specific recursive fic idea i have. had a cute little dream set a few years after slf, with virgil in late college. the reason im doublechecking is because it was prinxiety, and even tho it would be when virgil was around 21 or so i know those kinds of age gaps can make ppluncomfortable, and the way ur tagging on ao3 seems to imply the prinxiety is going to stay platonic in the actual verse. i definitely dont want to make u uncomfy so i wanted to check first

Ooo! I always love recursive fics! Romantic prinxiety has always been a possibility, though far far into the future because of the age gap. I still havn't decided yet, lol. Virgil being 21 would be fine in that regards.

#not writing #adriana answers #labeled universe asks #not pieces fic

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arrestjellyfish · 5 years ago

Text

Rainbow Blossoms

Chapter 1: Saturday

[Sanders Sides, romantic prinxiety / Virgil/Roman]

Summary:

Tattoo artist Roman Prince goes to the local florist to visit his elderly friend, Céleste Tempȇte, and pick some flowers to use as inspiration for a new design.

But instead of finding a soft old woman amongst the iridescent display of flora, he meets her anxious emo grandson. Virgil Tempȇte is everything you would not expect to find in a flower shop.

Cue intrigued simp noises.

Other chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

Chapter warnings: swearing, suggestive language, mention of mild illness, brief mention of artwork depicting mild blood

Chapter word count: 6,900

Read on AO3 or below!

[Also available as a podfic!]

oOo

It was unusually warm for a midsummer day in England. Crowds of people had flocked to the streets in excitement, hoping to soak up the best of the sunshine before the clouds were bound to return with a vengeance later that week.

Roman waltzed across the cobblestone road, inhaling rich scents of earthy vegetables and fresh, salty fish. Market vendors hailed from every direction, boasting low prices on sugar snap peas (freshly-picked that morning) and 2 kilos for the price of one on the juiciest peaches. Pedestrians of every age bustled around, energised by the atmosphere.

A burly man cut across Roman’s path, lugging a crate of dirt-caked carrots across the road. Roman had to sidestep to avoid crashing into him. He bumped into a metal pole on one of the many market stands in his haste, bruising his arm.

‘Are you quite all right, young man?’ the woman behind the stall asked in a kind voice.

A wide grin broke onto his face as he rubbed his aching arm. ‘I’m wonderful, thank you, madam!’

He adored market day.

His phone chimed in his pocket, and he knew it would be Remy demanding he get his arse back to work. Really, Roman knew he should have been hurrying back to the studio, but how could he possibly be expected to forego a gentle stroll through the town centre on such a wondrous day as this?

Besides, he had a perfectly valid excuse to be out of the stuffy tattoo parlour on this bright afternoon. The client he had had a consultation with earlier had requested quite an intricate design for their future tattoo, consisting of various flowers. Roman felt a duty to purchase a bouquet for reference, wanting even his initial sketches to live up to his reputation as an artist. He hadn’t been nominated tattooist of the month three months in a row for nothing, after all.

To aid in the completion of his quest, he knew the perfect, quaint little flower shop hidden away behind the sandstone buildings of the high street. There was an abundance of flower stalls dotted along the market, of course, though Roman was well-versed in selecting the finest of flora (having had plenty of opportunities to woo handsome young men in his 25 years) and knew a wider selection would be available at Beau Blossoms.

There was also a sense of loyalty that made him skip past the flower stalls and duck into the familiar crooked backstreet. He had become well acquainted with his favourite florist’s elderly owner, Céleste Tempȇte, who Roman had grown to see as one of his dearest friends, even if their 50-year age gap was unconventional.

He quickened his pace as he neared the modest shopfront, it’s pale blue paint chipping from years of wear. The windows were adorned with an iridescent display of the most gorgeous flower arrangements, as usual.

‘Good afternoon, mon fleur d’amour!’ Roman sang heartily as he pushed the glass door open, ducking his head with practised ease to avoid hitting it on the bell that jingled above him.

He breathed deeply at the onslaught of pungent floral scents. The intensity of the pollen had overwhelmed him at first all those months ago, though he had grown accustomed to it and now welcomed the attack on his senses as if greeting an old friend.

Crooked, aged floorboards creaked beneath him as he stepped around the corner of the entranceway. ‘How is the fairest woman in town fairing on this fair day?’

Roman looked up at the wooden desk where Céleste would always be slumped, doing a sudoku puzzle and smiling widely at Roman’s antics.

Then he froze.

Sitting in Céleste’s rickety stool was a complete stranger. They looked around Roman’s age, perhaps a tad younger, and were a decidedly different sight from what Roman had expected.

Céleste was a stout woman with silver hair who would often wear pastel floral dresses, with a mint-green shawl perpetually draped across her rounded shoulders. This new person looked similarly below-average in height, though otherwise was a polar opposite. They appeared scrawny and the pale skin on their hands and neck was practically swallowed by an oversized black and purple tartan jacket. Their ripped black skinny jeans (complete with chains and studded belt) were a far cry from Céleste’s nude pantyhose and where Céleste’s grey eyes would crinkle with delight at Roman’s entrance, this person’s dark eyes were wide with surprise and framed by the blackest eyeliner and smokey purple eyeshadow.

‘You’re not my Céleste,’ Roman said, feeling robbed.

The stranger’s eyes grew wider still and their eyebrows pulled down in anger. ‘Dude, what the fuck? You flirt with my grandma?’

Roman held his hands up in surrender, hoping to placate the sudden hostile atmosphere. ‘Relax, Count Drag-ula. I’m gay.’

‘Oh…’ the stranger breathed, seeming humbled and embarrassed by their outburst.

They slumped in their seat, having been sitting ramrod straight since Roman had entered. Then their arms folded around their torso and their shoulders hunched up as if protecting their neck. Bright purple hair fell over their eyes as they looked to the floor. The intimidating air that had been so pronounced in them seconds previously faded and was replaced by what Roman recognised as debilitating shyness.

It clicked pretty quickly after that.

‘You must be Virgil Tempȇte, right?’

Céleste had mentioned her grandson on many occasions during their friendly chats. Mostly she only mentioned him in passing, offhandedly saying that he had moved back home after a year in London, or boasting about what Virgil had gotten her for her 75th birthday (a vintage encyclopedia of 18th-century fashion trends which Roman had had the good fortune of borrowing). Though a few months previously, in an act of desperation, she had spoken much more candidly about her grandson. She had sought Roman’s advice on how she could help her beloved petite chauve-souris to become more confident in himself and overcome his severe anxiety.

Roman’s heart had warmed in hearing the old woman care so intensely about her grandson’s wellbeing. When Roman himself had been struggling with his confidence back in school, his parents had not exactly been forthcoming with support. It was refreshing to witness such unconditional love between family members.

His advice had mainly been that there was not much that Céleste could do to enforce a stronger sense of self-worth in Virgil, but that she should simply let him know that she loved and supported him and would be there for him as he grew.

Now, Roman presumed Virgil had come out of his shell, at least a little, given his rather eccentric makeup and clothing choices. Though he was still curled into himself protectively as he gave Roman a wary look through a wisp of his fringe.

‘How do you know my name?’

‘Céleste talks about you a lot,’ Roman said easily, offering one of his winning smiles.

It was, unfortunately, not met with the same enamoured responses he was accustomed to receiving. In fact, rather than dazzled by Roman’s charm, Virgil looked mortified.

Hearing that someone had been talking about you behind your back to a complete stranger was likely a little distressing to someone with an anxiety disorder, Roman realised. He moved the conversation on quickly.

‘I’m Roman Prince.’ He stepped forward to hold out his hand, which Virgil took tentatively. His fingertips were smooth. ‘I imagine your grandmother has mentioned me before.’

‘Um,’ Virgil stalled, pulling his hand back to himself and shaking his jacket sleeve so that it fell back over his fingers. ‘I’m not sure.’

Indignance overwhelmed Roman’s being.

‘Oh, come now.’ He leaned sideways against the desk, sticking out his chin just enough to profess confidence, not enough to intimidate. He had refined his poses down to a tee. ‘Your grandmother must have told you tales of the handsome young prince who brightens her days with a soft serenade,’ he finished the sentence in a lilting melody.

Virgil’s eyebrows shot up and his lips parted (they were a beautiful splash of rose against his fair skin, Roman thought). Pride swelled in Roman at the look of recognition on Virgil’s face. Céleste must have regaled her family with plenty of enthralling stories of Roman’s magnetism and penchant for chivalry.

‘Oh my God.’

‘Everything you’ve heard is true,’ Roman drawled with a confident smirk.

‘You’re the guy that grabbed the cactus like a microphone, aren’t you?’

Roman’s smile dropped instantly at the way Virgil’s lips tugged up in amusement.

‘Yes, well.’ He bridled a little, standing upright again. ‘T’was not my finest moment.’

‘Yeah, maybe not,’ Virgil mumbled. He bit his lip in what Roman assumed was an effort to contain laughter.

Heat flooded Roman’s cheeks and he promptly spun away from the table.

‘So she would tell you that story and nothing of my usual elegance,’ Roman grumbled, starting to delicately run his fingers over the blossoms displayed on the shelves. He had not taken Céleste for one to actively humiliate him.

‘No, she - I -’ Virgil stammered. ‘I’m sorry. Grandma - she has said plenty of nice things about you too, I just…’

Roman turned back to him, noting the stiffness in his posture and the pained look that pinched his features.

‘That’s just the one that sticks in the mind, y’know?’ Virgil’s long arm stretched upwards as he scratched at the back of his neck. Roman thought it might have been a way to dispel the awkwardness as Virgil’s elbow bent at such an odd angle that it partially hid his flushed cheek.

Not one to hold a grudge unnecessarily - especially not against such endearing young men - Roman smiled softly and nodded in acknowledgement.

Virgil fidgeted on his stool, seeming hesitant, then slid off of it to stand up. Though he didn’t seem much more at ease on his feet, shuffling nervously and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘You, um, you're the guy that brings her fruit tea in the mornings and texts her cute animal videos, right?’

‘C’est moi!’ Roman said with a bright grin, hoping his cheery disposition would comfort Virgil somewhat. He felt an inexplicable need to ensure the other man felt calm.

‘Well… thanks,’ Virgil mumbled, pulling his hands out of his pockets, picking at the frayed sleeves around his fingers, then burying them in his pockets again. ‘Dad and I kinda worry about her being here on her own every day, since we live a bit further out of town. It’s… nice to hear her talk about you.’

Not for the first time, and what he was sure certainly wouldn’t be the last, Roman’s chest filled with joy at hearing about the sheer love shared between the Tempȇtes.

‘But of course,’ he said, happy to see Virgil’s shoulders soften from their previous rigidity. ‘I make sure she does not go a day without seeing a friendly face, though I’m sure as wonderful as she is Céleste must have made plenty of friends in her years here.’

‘Yeah, but none like you,’ Virgil replied without pause. There was a small smile curling his lips and it was the first genuine show of happiness Roman had witnessed in him. It was quite captivating.

Then Virgil’s shoulders were suddenly raised to his neck again and he rocked backwards on his feet, putting some distance between them (at least as much as was possible in a 20-square-metre shop packed full with buckets and bundles of flowers). Roman tried to ignore the swell of disappointment in his chest.

He did not think himself skilled at much beyond his talent for tattooing and the great art of courtship, though he was confident in his ability to read the atmosphere of a room and knew to change the subject before the anxious man became any more uncomfortable.

‘So,’ Roman started, turning back to the various bunches of flowers that sat in the water troughs around the edges of the shop. He cradled the bright bloom of a sunflower in his palms and lifted it slightly from its water to better admire its beauty. ‘Where is the celestial woman? She must be on quite a grand adventure to have left behind her beloved blossoms!’

‘She’s sick.’

Roman’s stomach lurched and he felt the colour drain from his face in an instant. The sunflower dropped back into the bucket with a light splash and clang as the stem hit the metal base.

He snapped his gaze onto Virgil, who had opted to take his hands out of his pockets again and was twiddling a stem of white hyacinths between his fingers. He seemed completely undisturbed by the words that had just left his mouth.

‘My gosh, will she be all right?’ Roman asked, his voice shaking. ‘Is she in the hospital? When did this happen?’

‘Oh, shit.’ Virgil’s eyes blew wide and the white petals stopped their twirling in his hold. ‘I didn’t mean - she’s just got the flu.’

Roman was unconvinced of how reassuring that should have been, given Céleste’s ripe age.

Apparently his uncertainty was palpable as Virgil hurriedly continued, ‘My dad’s looking after her. It’s really mild, don’t worry.’

A massive sigh of relief escaped Roman and he felt the tension that he didn’t realise had seized his body begin to ebb away. Céleste had proudly proclaimed her son to be the most attentive medical nurse in the world, and given her compassionate nature Roman had not doubted for a second that that would be true of her own offspring. She was in safe hands.

‘Dear Zeus, don’t scare me like that!’ Roman cried with a steadying hand on his chest, though it was not a sincere reprimand and was followed by a breathy laugh.

‘Sorry,’ Virgil said, smiling apologetically.

Despite Roman’s brief upset, the misunderstanding seemed to have broken the last of the tension between them and Virgil did not flinch away when Roman took a step closer. He did it under the pretence of wiping his fingers dry on the tatty, damp hand towel that perpetually hung on a hook in the wall. They pulled away wetter than they had been before. ‘It’s no issue, Virgil.’

‘If it helps,’ Virgil offered, ‘I reacted just the same when Dad first told me.’

‘Oh?’ Roman prompted, feeling like he wasn’t ready for Virgil to stop talking yet.

The slighter man tended to squirm a little as he spoke, though not in an uncomfortable way; it seemed to be habitual more than anything. Habit or not, his lithe body twisted in such a subtle way that it was almost reminiscent of a pulse or a rhythmic dance. Roman found himself entranced by Virgil’s mannerisms as well as his character. And, undoubtedly, his beauty. ‘How so?’

Roman leaned his hip against the desk, locking his arms in a way that gently pushed his chest forward and stretched his t-shirt lightly. He knew it would be subtle enough to avoid arousing suspicion. Though, he thoroughly hoped that would be the only form of arousal he was avoiding.

Right on cue, Virgil’s eyes danced down to Roman’s chest, then flitted sideways to the window, back to Roman’s chest (where they lingered for a couple of seconds), and then down to the floor where they stayed. Roman smirked.

‘Yeah, I -’ Virgil cleared his throat ‘- I freaked out a bit. I actually told her I was gay the day before she caught it and I thought I’d, like, shocked her body or something.’

A surprised delight washed over Roman and his teeth bared in a disbelieving smile. Wasn’t this just perfect?

Virgil’s dark eyes - which on closer inspection Roman could now see were mismatched, one being a rich brown and the other green - rose to meet his gaze. Roman watched as he crumbled into himself with the realisation of what he had just said.

‘Oh my God, why did I tell you that?’ Virgil lamented under his breath, squinting his eyes shut and bringing his thumbnail up to his mouth.

‘I wonder,’ Roman murmured through a wide smile. It never failed to invigorate him when his charms effectively ensnared a cute boy. His cheekiness ran high on the excitement. ‘Now as much as I would truly love to stand here with you for as long as the hours in the day would allow, I do have a request of you.’

‘Uh… sure,’ Virgil mumbled around his thumbnail. He had recovered quickly from Roman’s flirting, though the colour was still high on his cheekbones, and Roman knew better than to think it was just from the warm weather. ‘What is it?’

‘I need your assistance in gathering the gayest selection of flowers possible.’

A sharp exhale blew from Virgil’s mouth, slightly muffled around the hand which still sat flush against his chin. It sounded partway between a sigh and a nervous laugh. ‘Care to elaborate?’

‘Anything for you, darling,’ Roman said in his smoothest baritone. His heart skipped at how Virgil’s fingers clenched tightly around the hem of his sleeve. ‘I’m a tattoo artist at Rainbow Skins Parlour - have you heard of it?’

Virgil’s eyes lit up beautifully and his hand dropped back to his side giving Roman a perfect view of those rose petal lips that enamoured him so. ‘Oh man, that’s so cool. My friend got her tat done with you. She said you guys were super accommodating of her dysphoria and stuff.’

‘That’s the aim,’ Roman beamed. He was immensely proud of the atmosphere he and his coworkers had created at the studio. Their mission was to create a safe space for those in the LGBT+ community who wanted to get inked and it seemed from all of the positive feedback they received that they had achieved that vision. ‘One of my clients wants a design full of flowers that symbolise gay love, so I came seeking a florist’s expertise.’

‘I dunno if Grandma is too hung up on the symbolism of the flowers, to be honest,’ Virgil said hesitantly, picking at his fingernails then folding his hands behind his back. ‘She’s more about the biology and aesthetics of it all.’

‘Well then lucky for me that Aphrodite blessed me with your glorious presence today.’ Roman settled to sit on the edge of the desk. It being quite low rise, his figure sunk slightly so that he was now directly eye-level with Virgil. The other man’s eyes did not leave Roman’s face. ‘You look like the poetic type.’

Green and brown eyes squinted suspiciously. ‘I bet my Grandma told you I studied creative writing.’

‘Even so,’ Roman shrugged and inched his foot along the wooden floor, letting the toes of his Vans bump against the heel of Virgil’s Doc Marten boot. Virgil did not move. ‘Am I correct in assuming you’ve done your fair bit of research into queer imagery?’

There was a pause wherein Virgil pouted and remained stubbornly silent. Then, after a few seconds: ‘You can’t go wrong with a green carnation.’

The tip of Roman’s tongue stuck out with a smile and he bit it lightly in amusement. Virgil’s cheeks went an endearing shade of dusty pink and he spun around, quite inelegantly bumping into the workbench that stood in the middle of the room. He grabbed a pair of faintly rusted shears with trembling fingers.

‘Uh, so we’ve got a few of those back here,’ Virgil blurted, rushing to the opposite corner of the shop floor.

Roman sauntered after him quietly. He peered over the other man’s shoulder as he pulled a large bushel from a bucket. The plant displayed a large, beautifully frilly bloom of lime green blossom.

A sharp, metallic snap from the shears resounded around the small room and the large bunch was lowered back to the water to leave a single flower held gently between Virgil’s slender fingers.

When Virgil turned back around, a quiet gasp escaped him as he bounced back, only just preventing himself from crashing right into Roman.

‘What, you couldn’t wait over there?’ If Virgil was trying to sound anything other than flustered and breathless, he had failed miserably.

Roman held his hand out wordlessly with a gentle smile.

The flower was pressed into his palm, and Roman made sure to capture it quickly enough to delicately brush his fingertips against Virgil’s.

In the dappled beam of sunlight that penetrated the packed floral displays in the window, the carnation was much the same shade as Virgil’s left eye. Roman hummed quietly as he inspected the flower, then looked up, delighted that Virgil was watching him.

‘Beautiful,’ Roman purred, unfaltering as he looked into Virgil’s eyes.

A loud snort of laughter cut the tension between them and Roman felt his brow furrow.

‘Okay, Romeo,’ Virgil huffed, shaking his head with a faint smirk. He avoided Roman’s eyes. ‘This is a fleuriste, not a fromagerie.’

Roman felt a thrill rush through him (which was only in part accredited to Virgil’s sudden fluent French accent). Apparently such simple flirting tactics would not suffice with this suitor. The promise of a slight challenge was electrifying to him. He did love to play this game.

He lifted the carnation and tucked it behind his ear like a pencil, smiling when Virgil giggled under his breath at what must have been a silly image. ‘What else may you suggest we add to our beau, gay bouquet?’

A few minutes passed by with Virgil selecting and snipping flowers, explaining the historical queer culture behind them as he went. Roman nodded along and dutifully made noises of interest, though did not dare to butt into Virgil’simpassioned monologue.

It was enchanting to hear Virgil ramble freely on a subject that so obviously enthralled him. He spoke in such a way that made even the most mundane facts feel visceral with descriptive language and Roman couldn’t bear to interrupt such eloquent poetic prose.

He only realised how little he himself had contributed to the conversation when Virgil trailed off with an apology.

A pile of evenly cut lavender, violets, gladioli, calla lilies and, of course, green carnations lay in front of Virgil on the workbench and his fingers fidgeted with some of the lilac petals gently.

‘Please, don’t apologise,’ Roman insisted. He stood opposite Virgil on the other side of the islanded workbench and leaned his elbows on the shabby surface, carefully staying clear of the gardening tools that were scattered around it. ‘You’re incredibly knowledgeable of this subject.’

‘Yeah, employing really subtle methods of representation kind of became my solace in university, you know?’ Virgil said faintly, his eyes fixed on where he weaved a long, detached flower stem between his fingers. ‘Being a paranoid, closeted creative writing student will do that to you.’

A cloud of dejection smothered the sunny atmosphere in the room.

‘Classic fairy tales were my own escape as a closeted teen,’ Roman offered, suspecting Virgil would not want such a heavy topic resting on his shoulders alone.

‘Oh, yeah?’ Virgil finally looked up with an eager intrigue dancing in his eyes.

Roman stretched his arm across the table so that Virgil could better see the tattoo that decorated his right arm upwards of his elbow. He rolled the short sleeve of his t-shirt up to his shoulder to reveal the whole of it. (If he flexed his arm slightly to better highlight his muscles, Virgil did not say anything about it.) He was immensely proud of the artwork on his arm, displaying a busy conglomeration of various fairy tale motifs all interwoven including a bitten red apple, a shattered glass slipper, and a frog wearing a crown. Though the focus of the design was a bird carrying a golden chain and a pair of red shoes, with a millstone around its neck.

‘Fuck yeah, The Juniper Tree,’ Virgil breathed.

‘You know it?’ Roman asked, surprised that Virgil had recognised the more nuanced imagery.

‘I love the Brothers Grimm.’ With a slight creak of the wood beneath him, Virgil sat sideways on the workbench and leaned to get a closer look at Roman’s arm. ‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a fan of more macabre stories.’

‘Well, I must admit in terms of imagery I appreciate the darker motifs,’ Roman indicated the depiction of a bloodied dagger hidden amongst a tangle of thorns on his bicep, ‘but when it comes to the stories I do prefer a good old-fashioned happy ending.’

Virgil sucked his teeth and leant his chin on his hand with a sigh, putting on an exaggerated air of disappointment. ‘Of course you do.’

‘Please, how could I not appreciate a handsome prince bursting into song and falling for a mysterious, beautiful stranger then doing everything in his power to woo them?’ Roman angled his body closer to Virgil. The edge of the workbench was pressed quite awkwardly into his thigh, but it was worth the slight numbness in his leg to watch Virgil’s eyelashes flutter and his chest rise and fall more quickly in response to how close they were. Roman purposefully allowed his eyes to linger over Virgil’s lips. ‘Doesn’t that remind you of someone?’

The lips pulled into a smirk and Roman’s gaze climbed up to see mirth sparkling in Virgil’s eyes.

‘What?’ Roman asked, only mildly offended.

It was proving to be something of a quest trying to ascertain which methods of flirting were working on Virgil. One minute the man was a blushing, stuttering mess, then the next he was openly laughing at Roman’s attempts to court him. Still, as the knights in his favourite stories never gave up in the face of extreme danger, he would not be deterred by Virgil’s stubbornness. It was obvious the man was interested in him but was perhaps a bit bratty. If anything that only made Roman all the more eager to win him over.

‘Nothing at all,’ Virgil shrugged. His tone was remarkably insincere. ‘So are you just thirsty for medieval knights or do you have some delusion of grandeur that I should steer clear of?’

It was cocky, and the man’s posture proclaimed it. He held his head high, baring his neck (and what a lovely, slender, pale, begging-to-be-decorated-with-splotches-of-purple neck it was). Though Roman saw through the bravado instantly.

He leaned in further, the edge of the bench completely cutting off the blood flow to his leg now, though he hardly cared. Virgil’s eyes darted between Roman’s gaze and the edges of the room hastily, as if the urge to look away and the urge to hold his ground were battling each other in his mind. His confident stance faltered slightly as Roman drew closer, their faces now mere inches apart.

Roman murmured lowly, ‘Why, Virgil? Are you struggling to find a reason to stay away from me?’

The once-pearly cheeks in front of him were now practically glowing pink.

The adrenaline that so often accompanied a successful courtship was running rampant in Roman’s veins and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Matched with the fact that he was practically drunk off of the lidded quality to Virgil’s gorgeous eyes, Roman almost missed the melodic jingling of a bell.

It wasn’t until a loud, cheery voice called out that Roman realised they were not alone anymore.

‘Kiddo, you forgot your packed lunch!’

Virgil scrambled off of the workbench, and Roman followed his lead by standing back upright, albeit a lot more calmly.

‘Dad, I’m with a customer,’ Virgil grumbled, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

Roman indulged in watching Virgil’s face go even pinker before turning to the entrance of the shop.

A stout man stepped out from the entranceway with a wide grin and a tupperware box cradled in his hands. His freckles were unmatched by either his mother or his son, though Roman could spy the slight similarities between their features. This was Patton Tempȇte. His face lit up with joy when his gaze fell on Roman.

‘And who’s this?’ Mr Tempȇte asked excitedly, his eyes sparkling at his son as he bounced on his toes.

‘Grandma’s friend, Roman Prince,’ Virgil mumbled. ‘The one who brings her tea and stuff.’

Mr Tempȇte made a delighted noise of surprise.

‘A pleasure to meet you, Mr Tempȇte.’ Roman smiled widely, offering his open hand. He winced slightly as he stepped forward and pins and needles exploded in his thigh. ‘I truly adore your mother, and your son is quickly beginning to grow on me too.’ He shot a quick wink to Virgil.

The look of utter betrayal on Virgil’s face made it difficult to contain a chuckle.

‘It’s wonderful to meet you too, Roman!’ Mr Tempȇte beamed, shuffling the tupperware into the crook of his elbow to shake Roman’s hand energetically. ‘And don’t bother calling me “Mr” or “Sir” or any of that silliness, Patton’s my name so feel free to wear it out! I would give you a big old hug, but I don’t wanna pass on Maman’s flu.’

‘How is she?’ Roman immediately asked, truly concerned for his friend.

‘She’s just fine,’ Patton nodded, seeming to approve of Roman’s concern. ‘She’s pretty much through it all now, I’m just forcing her to stay home for a couple more days as a precaution.’

‘I can’t imagine she’s too thrilled about being housebound,’ Roman sniggered knowingly.

Patton rolled his eyes dramatically with a smile. ‘Not at all. I tell you, she’s untameable, always raring to get out with her friends and go experiencing the world. Honestly, I always say she’s more of a 22-year-old than Virgil is! Isn’t that true, kiddo?’

A faint swell of dread built inside Roman’s stomach at the way Mr Tempȇte had phrased those words. He had probably meant no harm, but it didn’t sound like that kind of critical comparison would do much to heighten Virgil’s confidence.

Sure enough, when Roman’s gaze flickered over to him it was clear those words seemed to have struck the wrong chord. The younger man tugged his sleeves further over his fingers and shrugged, though the movement was so stiff and frantic that it was more resemblant of a reflexive jolt.

‘Whatever, Dad,’ Virgil muttered under his breath, scowling at his feet.

It was disheartening to witness Virgil’s fiery wit be snuffed out so swiftly. Roman felt out of place in the exchange and feigned interest in a sprig of leaves in the flower pile. He subtly massaged his thigh under the table to ease the remnants of tingling from his pins and needles.

‘Oh…’ The energy was drained from Patton’s voice, and Roman looked up to see hurt briefly flash in his eyes before he plastered on a bright smile once more. ‘Well, I’ll be out of you guys’ hair. I just wanted to bring you your food.’

‘I don’t need a packed lunch, I can pick something up on the way back.’

‘Either way, it’s here if you get peckish before closing time.’ Patton placed the tupperware beside the register and apparently couldn’t resist drumming the lid in a gentle rhythm. Virgil groaned and Patton giggled. ‘Listen, be thankful I’m your delivery man. I caught your grandma lacing up her running shoes wanting to bring this to you.’

Roman chuckled lightly to himself. That certainly sounded like Céleste.

For the first time since Patton had entered the shop, Virgil looked up from the floor and his eyes locked onto Roman. It was as if his laughter had reminded Virgil of his presence.

Virgil quickly shot his father a pointed look. ‘Okay thanks, dad. Bye.’ The words merged into each other in his haste.

To his credit, Patton didn’t seem to be upset by his son’s eagerness to get rid of him.

‘It was lovely meeting you, Roman!’ Patton waved with a wide smile, already making his way out of the shop. ‘See you later, ma petite chauve-souris!’

Virgil’s huff of annoyance was drowned out by the bell jingling again.

The awkward tension was thick.

‘So, can you make flower arrangements?’ Roman asked casually, choosing to entirely ignore the stunted exchange with Virgil’s father. It seemed like Virgil would not have wanted to acknowledge it, given his obvious embarrassment.

‘Um, not really,’ Virgil mumbled, still hugging himself tightly. He peered out from his fringe hesitantly and Roman did not miss how his body relaxed when their eyes met. ‘I mean - okay, yeah. Kind of,’ he corrected. ‘Grandma taught me a little bit when I was younger. Mainly I just do it for fun, though. I’ve never made one for a customer.’

It would have been responsible for Roman to simply take his flowers as they were, pay for them, and get back to work, leaving Virgil to do his job. He could even have left his number and hoped Virgil would have the confidence to text him later on. Though, looking at the slump of Virgil’s posture and the way his sleeves were clawed and pulled taut by his painted fingernails, Roman felt a desire, nay, a duty to ensure Virgil was smiling again before he left.

‘Fancy trying your hand at it?’ Roman suggested gently, not wanting to pressure the man who was clearly on edge.

Virgil’s gaze flitted between Roman’s face and the workbench. His fingertips danced on his sleeves as he considered the flowers and Roman realised he was itching to reach out and touch them. ‘I can try, I guess.’

Hesitant hands pulled away from purple sleeves and within seconds Virgil was rustling through the stems with intent. Roman leaned over the surface slightly, though with no sly objective in mind to fluster Virgil this time. He simply wished to watch him craft.

‘I’m not very good,’ Virgil said quite stunted, even as he started rearranging the flowers into colour-coordinated piles with a clear artistic goal in mind. ‘So, you know, don’t expect much.’

Roman knew the self-deprecating tactic well; how one hoped that by lowering everyone’s expectations, they could avoid harsh critique of their work. He had employed it plenty of times himself before he had grown more confident in his artistic abilities.

‘It doesn’t have to be perfect,’ Roman decided on saying. It would hopefully relieve the pressure Virgil had put on himself.

A small smile tugged at Virgil’s lips and he raised his eyes briefly from the flowers to send what seemed to be a look of thanks to Roman.

‘Besides, I trust that you have an artistic streak in you.’ Roman felt more comfortable in reigniting their previous flirtatiousness after having coaxed a smile out of Virgil. ‘I mean, with such a steady hand and aesthetic eye for that makeup, I’ll be lucky if the bouquet is half as beautiful.’

Virgil swiftly knelt down on the floor to reach under the bench - where Céleste kept the floral foam, Roman remembered - though Roman caught a glimpse of a wide smile and pink-dusted cheekbones before his face was hidden.

‘Basket or pot?’ Virgil called up from the floor.

Roman dropped to his knees and sent Virgil a bright smile underneath the table. ‘Whatever you want. I’m giving you full creative control.’

‘Risky move.’ Virgil raised his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk. ‘Our most expensive arrangements can rake up to one-hundred-and-fifty quid.’

‘All right, full creative control as long as it’s under forty pounds.’

Time went by fluidly from then on as they chatted over Virgil’s work. His flower placements were tentative at first, and his eyes kept darting up to check Roman’s face for a reaction, but Roman only ever smiled lightly and continued the conversation. (A couple of times his text tone rang out loudly, though their talking remained unfettered by the mild interruptions.)

Eventually, Virgil became more certain of his decisions and was tapping into skills Roman was wholly unprepared for. His slender hand pulled a leaf stripper swiftly down long stems with practised ease, he shuffled the flowers around between his fingers fluidly and his features smoothed as he lowered the blooms into their rightful places in the arrangement.

Roman had no idea how long he had been in the florist by the time Virgil finally deemed the display finished, but he could hardly bring himself to care. The bunch of flowers which were already such a beautiful collection before were now a piece of art, the lilac and emerald blossoms broken up by leafy ferns and surrounded by spindly branches of waxflower. The bouquet was truly stunning.

And as for the glow of pride on Virgil’s face? Absolutely breathtaking.

‘I think I’m happy with it,’ Virgil said nonchalantly, though the excitement hidden behind his tone rang loudly in Roman’s ears.

‘This is amazing, Virgil,’ he gushed, entirely sincere. ‘You’re a natural!’

Virgil bit his lip, stifling what Roman knew would have been a bright grin. He notably did not refuse the compliment.

‘Um, do you mind if I…’ Virgil brought his phone out from his pocket and opened the camera app, showing the screen to Roman with an eyebrow raised in question. ‘Kinda wanna show Grandma later,’ he admitted with a shy smile.

‘Of course,’ Roman held his hands out to the arrangement in invitation and stepped back so that he would not interrupt the photoshoot.

He watched from the sidelines as Virgil tiptoed around the workbench to find good angles, taking a few pictures of his work. Once the phone was placed back in his pocket, he turned back to Roman with a lopsided smile. ‘Thank you.’

Roman was fully and wholeheartedly smitten.

‘Don’t thank me before I’ve paid.’ Roman took his wallet out and waved it with a mock-frown of disapproval. For all of his years of acting classes, though, he could not wipe the smile off of his face. ‘That’s not a very sound business practice.’

Virgil shook his head lightly but moved back to the front desk carrying the arrangement with him. He rang up the numbers on the mechanical till quickly and Roman paid with a soft smile.

‘So,’ Roman said after Virgil had given him his hand-written receipt. He leaned toward Virgil slightly and delighted in the way Virgil mirrored him, bringing them even closer. ‘I don’t suppose a mysterious, beautiful stranger such as yourself would want to -’

Primadonna by MARINA suddenly blared from Roman’s pocket.

He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a blush stain his cheeks. Though his smile still did not falter.

‘Very fitting ringtone,’ Virgil teased, his voice strained with concealed laughter.

Roman opened his eyes and sent a weak glare to Virgil even as his cheeks ached from smiling so much. He took his phone from his pocket to silence it, seeing that it was Remy’s contact flashing up on the screen - then his expression finally dropped as he saw the time.

‘Oh, fuck!’ His next client was due in five minutes.

‘You okay?’ Virgil asked shakily, clearly anxious by the sudden shift in mood.

‘Everything’s okay,’ Roman quickly assured, ‘but I really have to go, I’m running late.’ He shoved his phone, wallet and receipt into his pockets and pulled the flower arrangement to his chest protectively.

Virgil had stiffened. Evidently his defences were rising again due to the sudden change.

‘I really do have to go, I’m sorry. Seriously,’ Roman paused with a sigh as he gazed over Virgil’s beautiful face once more, ‘you have no idea how sorry.’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Virgil nodded in agreement, but his voice was as quiet as it had been when Roman first came in however long ago. His disappointment was painfully obvious.

‘I’ll be back later this week,’ Roman promised as he reluctantly made his way to the door. There was absolutely no reality where Roman would not come looking for this enigmatic emo again. ‘I look forward to seeing you soon, my chemical romance!’ The doorbell jingled overhead as he rushed out of the door and called behind him, ‘Give my best to Céleste!’

Roman darted through the streets with a sharp stab of regret piercing his chest, though he really could not have afforded to indulge his infatuation much longer. He was a professional artist, he had to be back in time for his client.

Being incredibly protective over his cherished flower arrangement, Roman made it back to the studio in record time. It was not the first instance in which his high stamina had saved him face.

Panting for breath, Roman peered into the front window of the parlour and winced at the look of rage on the receptionist’s face as he sent a choice hand gesture to Roman from the other side of the glass.

‘Get your arse in here, Prince!’ Remy’s muffled yell met his ears.

Accepting that he would have to make a Starbucks run later to make up for his tardiness, Roman shuffled over to the glass door. He cradled Virgil’s arrangement in one arm as he reached for the door handle, then paused.

In his reflection, he noticed the green carnation from earlier still sat behind his ear. It looked utterly ridiculous. He had apparently been running around town with a massive green flower protruding from the side of his head.

In any other circumstance, he would have felt embarrassed. But the memory of Virgil’s huffy giggles played in his head, and all Roman could feel was giddy.

He pushed into the parlour with a wide grin that quite probably made him look like even more of a fool.

He didn’t care.

oOo

Inspired by a prompt from @writersmonth

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

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#my writing #prinxiety #prinxiety au #prinxiety fanfic #ts roman #ts virgil #ts fic #ts fanfic #writersmonth2020

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starlocked01 · 5 years ago

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Second Glances

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Roman has spent years making his aesthetic Gay TM and yet his soulmate's first impression of him is that he's straight. What has he done so horribly wrong? Nothing, but first impressions often are wrong.

Day 18 Prinxiety- Your Soulmate’s first impression of you is written on your skin somewhere

Damn it all the cute ones are straight

The mark appeared on Roman’s 18th birthday at midnight and frankly, he was mortified. He had been out and proud for the past two years and almost always had a rainbow flag somewhere on his person or belongings. How in the world could his soulmate get such an incorrect idea of him?

He interrogated all his friends at school to see if any of them had crushes on him and had thought he was straight but with no luck. Apparently they all had better gaydar than his soulmate.

Roman didn't have much time to worry about soulmates though because in just a few weeks he and his twin were moving into the dorms for freshman year of college. They packed up their entire room and wondered what their roommates would be like.

"I don't know Ro, what if they don't accept me or get uncomfortable with me?" Remus ran his fingers through his hair. He'd been growing it out almost a year now.

"Then I will kick their ass and get you a new roommate. Simple," Roman reassured Remus.

"Heh, thanks Ro," Remus smiled, still visibly nervous.

Roman grinned, "no one hurts my sibling and gets away with it."

On move-in day everything was a whirlwind. The car was packed past full and Roman was a ball of nervous energy.

"Remus, are you ready?" he called up the stairs.

"It's Renee today!" she called back down, appearing at the top of the stairs.

"Oops! My bad. Ready to go, sis?" Roman smiled broadly as she walked down, fussing with her skirt.

"Yeah!"

"Let's go! College here we come!"

Renee was unusually quiet during the drive. Roman spared as many glances away from the road as he could.

"You okay, hon?" He asked gently.

She nodded slowly, "are you sure I won't get funny looks during move in? Should I change into something masc before we get there?"

"No, you will do no such thing. It's a co-ed dorm, Ren. And I'm literally right down the hall," Roman shook his head.

Renee glanced down at her palm, "do you think I'll meet my soulmate today? I mean there's gonna be a lot of people there and it is a fem day…"

Roman smiled, "anything is possible, sis. Just keep being your beautiful self."

Thoughts of soulmates reminded Roman of his own frustrating mark. He kinda wondered what his soulmate’s mark said. Guess he'd think it sooner or later.

After the slightest confusion at sign in, he and Renee were ready to move into their dorm rooms. He decided to help Renee with her stuff first (and to make sure any roommate would know who they had to answer to). They were carrying in their first boxes and found her roommate already unpacked and chilling out at a desk with a book on existential philosophers.

The boy looked up and Roman and smiled extending a hand as he and Renee set down their boxes, "you must be Remus. I'm Janus. Nice to meet you."

Roman glared and opened his mouth to reprimand Janus but Renee spoke up first, "actually, I'm Renee!" she took Janus’ hand and shook it, "Remus is my legal name."

"Oh. Oh, my apologies! You would think I would know not to assume," Janus laughed uncomfortably, "sorry, Renee. It's charming to meet you."

"I'm Roman, her twin brother," Roman's mouth twitched. He was ready to cause a scene if things went south.

"Well, actually this is rather fortunate," Janus looked between the two twins, "I get the feeling you two will be understanding. I'm nonbinary and go by sie/sier pronouns. Again, I apologize for assuming. I hope we can get off on a better second impression."

Renee giggled, "that's so cool! I'm actually genderfluid. We can talk more later though, Roman and I still have to unpack all his stuff too."

Roman sighed in relief and turned to go get the next load of Renee's stuff.

After moving all her boxes from the car, Renee and Janus both helped Roman move his stuff into a room just down the hall from them. Even with moving Renee first, Roman’s roommate was nowhere to be found and he wondered if he lucked out with a no-show roommate and accidental single dorm room.

Renee was bubbly and excited, talking about her roommate and sier interests and opinions. Renee was already pretty infatuated with sier. Roman started to unpack his clothing.

"Ro, this is going to be the best! I'm so excited I can't contain it!" she started bouncing on the bed. Roman chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug.

Just then he saw a boy drowning in a purple and black hoodie stop at the door, double-checking the door number. He was so skinny, the only thing Roman could think was Tim Burton Reject but like Cute. The boy caught sight of Roman and Renee hugging and Roman almost thought he saw the 5 stages of grief flash through his eyes.

"Uh, should I come back later? I think this is my room…"

Roman grinned and walked over to the door, "come on in! Virgil right?" Virgil nodded, "hi, I'm Roman! This is Renee. Need help with your stuff?"

Renee waved and Virgil set his box down, "um sure, thanks."

Renee fiddled with her skirt, "Ro, I'm gonna go change."

"Okay, cool. Name when you get back?"

She skipped out of the room, "Reagan! Thanks Ro!"

Roman chuckled and smiled at Virgil, "you'll get used to them. They're genderfluid and switch kinda frequently."

Virgil nodded and started back down the hall to his car, "how long have you known each other?" His voice was tinted with barely noticeable jealousy.

"Since the day we were born. Reagan is my twin," Roman followed his roommate, oblivious to the confusion on his face.

"Wait.. siblings… ohhhh, oh thank god," Virgil was wide-eyed.

"What?"

"I thought Renee was your girlfriend. That would have been awkward," Virgil flushed with embarrassment and Roman broke out laughing.

"Wow, that's a first! I've never been told my sib looked like my S.O.! You're funny Virge!" Roman hit Virgil on the back in a friendly pat that sent the smaller boy stumbling forward.

They quickly moved the few boxes Virgil had brought into the room and both boys started unpacking. The room was tensely quiet until Reagan came barreling back into the room with their roommate in tow.

"Oh my God! You guys!! Janus is the sweetest bitch," their eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"All I did was offer to help with classwork," Janus mumbled. Sie looked at Roman and Virgil and could feel the awkwardness in the room that Reagan was oblivious to, "so, anyone know a good ice breaker?"

Roman and Virgil replied at the same time, "polar bears."

Janus snorted, trying to contain sier amusement, "not quite what I meant, but A for effort."

"Ooh, have either of you two met your soulmates?" Reagan grinned at Virgil and Janus.

"My birthday is in a couple of months, so I have no idea," Virgil shrugged, taping up an MCR poster.

Janus rolled sier eyes, "no, I'm not really trying to find them either. Their first impression of me is disappointment anyway and you know how impossible it is to correct a bad first impression."

Roman laughed, "I feel like I'm looking for the impossible! My soulmate’s first impression is that I'm straight . How?" he held up the pride flag that he was preparing to hang above his bed.

"I could imagine it if the first time they saw you, you were… I don't know, hugging your sister," Virgil coughed suspiciously.

"Well, I will quickly correct them. Shoot, I forgot to ask. Virgil are you okay with queer stuff all over my side of the room? Because if not we have a problem," Roman smiled nervously and Reagan snickered at him. He supposed he should have figured this out before outing Reagan to Virgil but better late than never.

"You're good, Princey. I might not be flamboyant but I'm definitely gay," Virgil smiled softly.

"How lucky you're rooming together," Janus smirked, "should we dismantle one of the beds now?"

Reagan howled with laughter as Roman and Virgil both vehemently denied that suggestion, faces redder than strawberries.

"Give it a month, Jan," they snickered, wiping a tear from their eye.

"Indeed, bet?"

"20 bucks says you're on."

"We're right here!" Virgil protested.

"Shut up, you know I love you guys," Janus replied smoothly.

"No. No, I don't know that," Virgil flipped up his hood to hide his face from the others and pulled out his DVD collection to sort it. Roman glanced over and gave a triumphant shout.

"I knew it! Corpse Bride, Alice in Wonderland, Nightmare Before Christmas, Beetlejuice? I knew you'd be into Tim Burton!" Roman grinned happily, "fantastic movies!"

"How? We've known each other for like an hour…" Virgil was confused.

"Ah, I think it was the hoodie. You just look like one of his characters, you know?" Roman's grin turned sheepish.

"Fair enough. That is my aesthetic," Virgil shrugged.

"So should we leave you two future love birds alone now or…?" Reagan chuckled. They could tell Roman liked his roommate a lot, even if he wasn't outwardly flirting.

"Excellent idea, Reagan. We can cause more mischief elsewhere," Janus turned to leave with Reagan following close behind sier.

The first semester of classes went chaotically fast. True to Reagan's prediction, Roman and Virgil started dating within weeks. Despite outward dissimilarities, the two made for a good couple, balancing each other's sweetness and snark and flair and dramatics.

Roman couldn’t help but feel nervous as the clock ticked closer to midnight. Winter vacation had been hard enough with Virgil on the other side of the country, but tomorrow was his birthday and Roman was anxious to figure out if the connection he felt with his boyfriend was as deep and as fated as he wanted it to be.

They were facetiming when the alarm Roman had set for midnight went off.

"Happy birthday, my chemically imbalanced romance!" Roman grinned as Virgil shook his head at the nickname, "where's the mark?"

Virgil chuckled, "can't I enjoy being legally adult for two minutes?"

"Virgillllll please?" Roman pleaded, puffing out his lip.

"Fine. I think it's on the back of my neck though. Hang on," Virgil turned off the camera to take a photo while Roman waited impatiently.

Roman couldn’t see his face but he could hear Virgil’s soft gasp, "what is it, love?"

"Did you really think that about me, Roman?" Virgil sounded upset and Roman wished he would turn the camera back on.

"I don't know, V, what does it say? Please turn the camera back on," Roman prodded gently.

The camera flicked back on and Roman could see the back of Virgil’s neck with a single line of shiny scarlet text, "Tim Burton Reject but like Cute."

"Your first thought of me was that I was a reject??" Virgil brought the camera back to his face and Roman could just make out the line of a tear cutting through his makeup.

"Virgil, it's not like that-"

"Well, it sure looks like it! Either that was your first impression of me or we aren't soulmates! I have to live with this on my skin for the rest of my life I deserve to know!"

Roman glared at Virgil, "quite hypocritical considering I have to live with the fact you thought I was dating my own sibling written across my ass!" Roman took a deep breath before continuing, "yes, my first thought of you wasn't the kindest phrasing. First impressions are so often very wrong. People aren't static pictures, they're living art. Just look at Remus; he's constantly changing. And I've seen you change in so many ways the past four months, Virgil. I would never call you a reject now. I'm sorry I did back then."

Roman watched Virgil’s face as he finished his apology. To his surprise, Virgil started to laugh, low and quiet at first but quickly growing.

"You were right though. I was so skinny, so dark, and so edgy- I think just about anyone would have agreed with you. I think you got the short end of the soulmate stick, Ro, because now you're stuck with me, the Tim Burton Reject," Virgil's smile was wide and genuine and Roman clasped his hand to his chest in relief.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me. I thought I was going to be single! Who knew your birthday was the actual nightmare before Christmas," both of them laughed at that, "goodnight love. Text me when you open your present."

Roman smiled as Virgil saluted and ended the call.

Thank the stars they actually were soulmates.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #prinxiety #sibling creativitwins #lowkey platonic demus #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #genderfluid remus #nonbinary janus #first impressions #cussing #college au #soulmate au

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

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1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,974

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <none> (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: there's an excessively detailed description of the biology project in this chapter. I haven't read it since i first wrote and edited this chapter two years ago. :)

...

Logan walked into his 4th Period class, biology, with a glint in his eye. He enjoyed the class quite a lot, and the teacher was passionate about the material, making the learning process all that much better.

"Good morning students!" He said cheerily from the whiteboard. "As you can see, I've rearranged the desks into groups of 4, and if you look up here at the board, you'll see the seating chart. These will be your groups for this semester's project." Logan scanned the projected seating chart and found his name. Near the center of the room, and his desk at an angle which he could still see the teacher. He glanced at the other names. he recognized two of them; Roman Prince, the school jock, and Virgil Black, notoriously introverted and depressing. The third name he didn't recognize; Patton Whitelock. He took a seat at his assigned desk, and awaited the arrival of his group mates.

Patton and Virgil arrived together. Logan recognized Virgil with his purple hair and sulking form, and as they walked closer, assumed the perky boy walking with him was Patton. Upon seeing him he realized this was someone he actually had several classes with, but had never bothered to pair a name with his face. He seemed to radiate an infectious joyful aura, and Logan felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he approached. Virgil just gave Logan a small nod, while Patton smiled wide and stuck his hand out across the desks to shake Logan's pale steady hand.

"Hi there!! My name's Patton! You're Logan, right?" Patton's voice went perfectly with his demeanor. Logan allowed a smile to cross his face - just out of politeness, of course - as he shook Patton's hand.

"Hello Patton. Yes, Logan Montgomery. And you must be Virgil, correct?" He said, looking over at the dark boy sitting across from him, who was now slumped over on his desk with earbuds in. Virgil just glanced at him and gave a small nod.

Then, in a burst of flamboyance, Roman arrived at the table with his signature smirk displayed proudly on his face. He glanced around at his teammates. His smirk faltered at the sight of ta certain purple-haired emo, but he continued to scan as he sat smoothly, sliding his backpack under the desk. He greeted Patton with a handshake - the two were relatively friendly, as Patton often helped organize football events - and upon seeing the tall pale boy seated next to him, changed tone.

"Why hello there," Roman said in a deep voice, leaning over to Logan, who tensed up momentarily. But he regained himself quickly, and turned to face Roman.

"Salutations. Logan Montgomery. You are Roman Prince, I presume," Logan said cordially, holding his hand out to the jock. Roman only smirked and took Logan's hand, kissing his knuckles gently. In that moment Logan cursed his off-white skin, as he felt his face heat up and was sure the blush was plain as day. It only made Roman smirk more to see the effect of his actions.

"But of course. I suppose I should be thankful for the honor of being grouped with such a handsome-" In the midst of his courting, Roman was interrupted by the teacher clearing his throat and giving further instructions on the project.

"These will be your groups. No buts, this is final. Unless there is a serious conflict, I will absolutely not be changing your groups. Now that that's out of the way, I'll explain the project." He clicked a button on his computer, and the projection changed to a presentation about their project. "You are to write a detailed, extensive report on Lepidium Sativum, or Garden Cress, and its attributes in various environments. there will be three rounds in this project." He clicked a button again, and the slide changed. "in the first round, you will have two plants being given the same amount of water and light, but two different types of fertilizer. after two weeks, the fertilizer that has been the most effective in helping the plant thrive will be used for all future rounds." Next slide. "in the second round, you will have two entirely different garden cress plants, that are to have the exact same amount of sunlight and both be planted in the better fertilizer from the previous round. you are to take the recommended amount of water you should give the plants per day, and give one plant less than said amount and the other more. repeat this process for two weeks, and note which plant thrived more. This plant's dosage of water will be used in the next round as well." Next slide. "For the final round, two new plants will be given the optimal fertilizer and amount of water, but different amounts of sunlight. One is to be in the sun constantly, the other is to be kept out of the light. Whichever one is the most successful after two weeks time, will be presented in class at the end of said time period. these plants will be 10% of your grade for this project." Next slide. "Your report will include the following 11 paragraphs; 1, prior knowledge. any and all things you collectively know about Garden Cress. If you know nothing, then I'd devote some time to researching the plant. 2, the procedure for the first round. step-by-step description of what you did in the two weeks. 3, hypothesis or predictions for the outcome of the first round. 4, the results of the first round. 5, 6, and 7 repeat 2, 3, and 4 but for the second round, and 8, 9, and 10 for the third round. the 11th paragraph will be the conclusion; comparing all the results and analyzing them, whether you think your experiment was accurate, etcetera. I expect before and after pictures of both plants for all three rounds in your report as well." He then turned off the projector and walked over to a table, which had 16 plants on it. "Today is the beginning of the experiment, one group member will be chosen for the entirety of this lab to be conducted at their house, and said group member will come up and take two plants from here at the end of the period. We have... 10 minutes left. discuss among yourselves."

With that, they were off. Logan had been furiously scribbling notes in somehow impeccable handwriting. He looked up once the teacher had stopped talking and cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "I will take the plants to my house. We should meet there every week at least, preferably on a consecutive weekday," he said.

But Roman had other plans, that he thought were absolutely brilliant in terms of his suddenly enticing pursuit of Logan. "Au contraire, my bespectacled friend," He began, "I believe that the best household for our project to be conducted in would be chez-moi," Roman finished with a dramatic hand-to-the-chest pose. Virgil couldn't keep in a scoff and a smirk, murmuring something under his break about how Roman didn't speak french. The others ignored him, but Patton looked at him curiously.

"And what could have possibly led you to that conclusion? I strongly believe that of the four of us," Logan said, looking around at his partners, "I am the most responsible. So, I'm curious to hear your reasoning," Logan finished, adjusting his glasses again and facing Roman more prominently.

"Well, Microsoft Nerd," Roman said, at which Virgil smirked again, "My house is only a few blocks away from school. Its very accessible, and I for one know that at least two of us would prefer to be near school," Roman said, looking over at Virgil.

Virgil considered protesting, but decided against it. "...I mean, he's not wrong," He said quietly.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the assist, JD-lightful. Patton, what do you think?" Roman said, turning his attention to Patton, who was staring at his desk with a hint of a blush on his face.

He looked up upon being addressed, and responded. "Oh, um, I'm alright with either honestly." He said, slightly less perky than usual, glancing at Logan before looking back down.

Logan simply sighed and adjusted his glasses again. "Well, I'm not going to argue with you over something so trivial, so fine. We can go to your house."

Roman clapped loudly and put his hands down on the desk. "Wonderful! How's about tonight? And every Monday hereafter?" He said, looking between all of them. Logan nodded once, Patton nodded vigorously (only after Logan had given his nod), and Virgil just slowly bobbed his head up and down as if he was exhausted, leaning into his arm that was propped up on his desk. "Okay, it's a plan! Meet you all at the front of the school when 8th period is over." And with that, the teacher got the students' attention again.

"Alright students, it's time. Send up whomever will be taking the plants to their house." Roman stood up proudly and strut over to the table, where he picked out two of the nicest-looking plants on the table. There was a minute or two before they were dismissed, so the four of them took the opportunity to exchange phone numbers. Then the bell rang, and the students immediately filed out the classroom door and dispersed.

...

When Roman walked up to the bench at the front of the school at the end of the day - followed by a few of his fan girls, of course - only Logan was there. As Logan noticed people walking his way, he put away his phone hastily, as if embarrassed, and quickly began pulling different notebooks out of his backpack, trying to look busy. As Roman approached, he dismissed his pursuers and sat on the opposite side of the bench, while Logan attempted to start his Calculus homework.

"Well, if it isn't the Microsoft Turd," Roman said, looking over at Logan.

Logan didn't look up, merely scoffed. "You already made that joke."

"Well, it was a variation, and I can think of a Microsoft Third!" Roman shot back, smirking once again.

Mr. No-nonsense Logan responded, "have you heard from the others? it's been approximately... 12.4 minutes since 8th period ended," he said, checking his watch.

"No, not particularly. However, I did see Virgil sulking in the hallway on my off-block. Ugh, the nerve of him; he's constantly ruining the mood for everyone, in every situation! Are you listening to me?" Roman said, watching as Logan did his same scribble in a graph paper notebook, breezing through his work.

"No."

Roman put on an extremely offended face, and would've retorted, had Patton and Virgil not walked up at that exact moment. Roman opened his mouth to say something to Logan but his eyes caught Virgil's radiant hair, and he was momentarily distracted.

"Hey Logan!!" Patton said cheerily, waving to him while keeping his thumbs behind his backpack straps. "Are you ready for some science!?" He said the last word with zeal, and Logan looked up at him, smiling softly.

"Yes, I am rather looking forward to the actual project," Logan said, then glancing over at Roman, "though I expect there will be plenty of distractions on Roman's account."

"Only distractions you'll enjoy," Roman said, wiggling his eyebrows "flirtatiously". Virgil scoffed yet again from behind Patton, trying to hide his smile.

"Well, then let's get going!! I-I mean, if you're ready, Logan." Patton said, referring to Logan having surrounded himself with textbooks and notes.

"Oh, right." Logan pushes his glasses up the bride of his nose, and made quick work of putting his things away. Roman made an attempt in vain to carry Logan's pack; Logan said he wouldn't trust Roman with his backpack if it was "consisting of objects of an inconsequential nature, which it is not."

And they four made their way down the sidewalk, talking and teasing each other, unaware of the growing bonds between them.

#patton sanders #ts patton #ts roman #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #virgil sanders #prinxiety #logicality #virgil x roman #logan x patton #high school AU #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction

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doomstypewriter · 4 years ago

Note

abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)

Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part.

Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy!

If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!

AO3

Chapter 2 >>

We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance

Summary: An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?

(We're in it for the drama)

---

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Word count: 3848

Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.

TW: Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).

Chapter 1 of 2:

Balcony kiss

How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret.

He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure.

“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”.

Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip.

“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”

“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”.

Janus silently nodded.

“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?”

Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought.

“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”.

“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?”

“Who are you calling old?!”

“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!”

Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit.

“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”

“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”

“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”

He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta.

“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”.

“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…”

“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”.

At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation.

“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “

“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”.

“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?”

“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”

“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”.

“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”.

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”.

Oh.

No.

When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much.

He ran.

Not from his problems. More or less towards them.

The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart.

Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him.

The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open.

Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival.

From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps.

Three months of yearning to see a face again.

That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him.

But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips.

With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless.

“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly.

“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”.

“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”.

“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”.

“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony.

“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk.

“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”

“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!”

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Janus laughed in delight.

“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand.

The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending.

He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove.

“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed.

“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”.

There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man?

Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him.

Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man.

A fool for a good man.

His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise.

“Oh, you’re a thief alright”.

“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement.

Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him?

“You know all too well you have”.

Oh.

“Well, that would make two of us”.

Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was.

“Thank you” the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel.

“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”.

“You are not anyone” he smiled softly.

“Then make the pain up to me”.

Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course.

It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.

“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him.

Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it.

“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor.

“On my way, father”.

The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.

“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”.

Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.

It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people.

At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism.

As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true.

Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions.

“I do not understand”.

“Lady Renata Regio is alive”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”.

“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”.

“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”.

Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it.

“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?”

“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy.

Janus could not help but to smile a little.

“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--”

“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”.

What?

“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”.

“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”.

“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”.

“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?”

“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”.

Oh no.

“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”.

“Shit” Janus said under his breath.

“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”.

“What choice would please you the most?”

“Oh, Patton, you idiot”.

“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”.

“Will this bring honour to our family?”

“Certainly”.

“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice.

Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life.

“Of course I will accept”.

“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”.

The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man.

Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with.

This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much.

He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess.

He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win.

He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter.

There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess…

But Patton would be upset.

His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet.

Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count.

“Janus…”

Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper.

“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.

This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it.

Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup.

“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He promptly let him go.

“I…”

Janus turned back to face him.

“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”.

“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?”

There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken.

“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”.

“You’ve never cared about that”.

“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”.

“I can’t bear to live without you either!”

Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…

“What…” he felt as if he was going crazy.

A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered.

“What are you saying?”

This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing?

“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?”

More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.

“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--”

Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid.

“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”

A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever.

“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity.

As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure.

“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.

“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.

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