#prinxiety hints

[vash-the-trans-catboy]

I finally had the inspiration to start a new story!!!! After a four month hiatus from writing (how has it been that long???) I have words actually written. So far this is probably the best thing I’ve ever written so get ready for angst in the next few days

[clydesavage-thefox147]

Calling all Prinxiety Shippers, this analysis is for you!💜❤️

So, I have had my eyes set on Virgil's Spotify Playlist for a while now. And a few songs have caught my attention that I'd like to talk about.

The one in particular that I will discuss here is "Sally's Song" covered by Amy Lee from Evanescence, originally by Catherine O-Hara. A classic song from the even more classic movie The Nightmare before Christmas. Now, it's understandable why Virgil would have this song on there. It's from one of his favorite movies, it's a designated emo staple with lines like "We can live like Jack and Sally if we want" in Blink-182's "I Miss You", and overall it's Tim Burton which he's shown interest in as well. But, I wonder why this song in particular. He could've picked "This is Halloween" or "Jack's Lament" but..he picks "Sally's Song"? This isn't the only time he's been affiliated with this song either. In the 2020 Holiday Show, Thomas covered it in reference to Virgil's celebration of the holidays.

It's been stated that the songs on each playlist are on there for a reason. Some songs on each are directed specifically at another Side. I think I know who's being directed at here from Virgil's POV. Think about it, Sally is very similar to that of Virgil. Both are restless and want freedom despite the risks, they are both caution and concerned for others especially those they love, and just their overall aesthetics aline with a stitch work-ragdoll like appearance. The song in question is about Sally showing her concern for Jack. It briefly touches on her need for freedom and inclusion, but it's mostly about her love and consideration for Jack. Hell, she sang it right after Jack took off on his Christmas exploits that she knew would fail and tried to warn him. She thinks the love is one-sided, she gives up in believing it'll happen. However, it was reprised in the end with both of them admitting their love for each other.

Who is Jack in this situation? You could say Jack is a bit like Virgil in wanting to move away from scaring people all the time..but Jack's demeanor and personality isn't very Virgil like. He's ambitious, overly I might add. He's desperate, he's dedicated, he suffered an identity crisis, he's associated with royal standing as the Pumpkin King, and his voice is rather regal. Who does that sound like to you? Roman.

Sally's concern for Jack's actions failing or getting him hurt ties in with Virgil's behavior as anxiety. One major thing is concern for Roman being too forceful in his desperation for a boyfriend for Thomas could've got him rejected or hurt. This was shown in FWSA..the same episode where a sticker of Jack and Sally peaked both of their interest. They both have shown a love for this movie, so much so that Roman wanted Virgil's posters of it back in Accepting Anxiety part 2.

Sure, you could say that this could be directed at Nico but Virgil's playlist was debut in April of 2020, FWSA wasn't released until October. Sure, it could have been foreshadowing but I highly doubt it since the song itself shows that the person the narrator wanted in question, was already known to them and their concern for them was justified. You could say it's directed at Thomas, but this song is too romantic in its undertones to be that, even if it said "friend" in the lyrics...Roman called Virgil "Friendo" (so did Janus as Patton but that's besides the point).With lines like "What will become of my dear friend, where will his actions lead us then" could be reference to how Roman's overambitious behavior and reckless actions could be a problem. Stating a question Virgil was asked back in 2018 at live Vidcon QnA, Virgil did say he liked Roman's ambition..but wasn't sure he wanted that in his life. Maybe he's willing to take the chance now?

So, it's fair to say that "Sally's Song" is directed at Roman. They both are carbon copies of the characters, they both love the film, and the overall hints of this song and film in regards to them are too obvious to miss. ❤️💜

Seems like Virgil wants to live like Jack and Sally with Roman. 💜❤️

P.S: we so need an official Virgil cover of Sally's Song..like come on 😁

[skeletinmoss]

There's gonna be drawings, stay tuned.

You may be a fan a Raven Poetry fic that I'm working on with @lovelivingmydreams . You also may have noticed that we have a second fic named Storm Dove that is basically swap au of Raven poetry. Both stories exist in Raven poetry multiverse. Little did you know we have more aus in this multiverse, and I'm here to talk about them.

They all are based on the ship Prinxiety, so Roman and Virgil are main characters. They have one of the 3 roles: Hero, Civilian and Villain.

Raven poetry has Hero Ro and Civilian V. Classic banter between hero and his regular damsel in distress.

Storm dove has opposite roles Hero V and Civilian Ro. Same but a little different storyline.

Full moon. You may have heard about that one before. Take this if you missed it. Roles: Hero Ro, Villain V. A little bit more spicy. V as a villain seeks revenge for his brother, later with a help from hero comes to light and even starts to work along side his crush. His Star Knight design:

Coming up next! Partners in slime. Hero Ro, Hero V. A lots of sexual tension between colleagues. V is a slime and with his healing abilities he works in the guild patching up heroes and villain victims. Sometimes he goes on missions with hero Elemental Blade where his unsolid body is more useful.

Also one of my favorites. Vampire diaries. We already saw hero/hero au, but how about villain/villain? Virgil can't physically live without blood. Buying it is too expensive, not to mention someone might need it more than just for food. His life of starving himself and feeding of random street people is suddenly turned upside down when one of his victims decide to date him. Roman is a very dedicated boyfriend who will even kidnappe some people for his darling's snack

Last one we have so far is Eclipse. Villain Ro, Civilian V. Falling under mind control former hero is forced to be a puppet in villain's hands. His only hope is his new roommate - tattoo artist with power of runes that can make him invisible or incredibly lucky. Dark atmosphere with a little detective story. Will V be able to notice Ro's hints or will Hero be trapped forever?

[infinitesimaldna]

The Giving Season

It was the annual gift exchange for the friend group, but something was up. Janus could tell.

And no, it didn't have to do with his feelings towards the other two in the room, that'd be ridiculous.

What was going down this holiday season?

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Ao3 Link

(Not currently posted but I'll edit it when Ao3 comes back online)

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Tw: Mention of sex (just Remus being Remus, not graphic whatsoever)

Ships: Intruloceit, background Prinxiety

Word Count: 3,456

Notes: This is my gift in the @sanderssidesgiftxchange for @edupunkn00b! I had a super fun time making it, and I really hope you enjoy <3

Also, all the love to my beta, @quillienvii. They were with me through every step of this journey, and I cannot be more thankful for them

Without further ado, fic under the cut!

The get-together was meant to start 20 minutes ago, which meant everything was going according to plan. 

Currently, the only ones present were Logan, Janus, and Remus. Logan had been there at exactly noon, Janus dragging Remus through the door a few minutes later. The gathering was taking place at Patton’s, so he should be here currently, but he had gone out to pick up Roman after he apparently had been having issues with his car. Since Roman had also intended to pick Virgil up and bring him to the festivities, that meant they were also short one emo until Patton made his way back with the other two in tow. 

Either way, Janus was getting impatient. That also meant if he was starting to feel impatient, Remus was practically jumping from anticipation already. Logan was probably doing fine, he always plotted extra time in their hangouts for the purposes of one or more of them being late. And he was always less uptight around the holidays.

Janus really enjoyed the season for that reason.

That, and how Remus would share the same facts every year without fail. Like right now.

“Did you guys know that in Belgium, Santa has a cannibal manservant slave that eats the bad children for him instead of just giving them coal?”

“Oh good, Remus is already starting the facts. I can cross that one off my bingo card.”  Janus hadn’t actually made a bingo card, but it was certainly an idea for next year.

“Shame. I had his fact about people breaking into noble’s houses while caroling on my own.” Logan’s comment was accompanied by a look sent his way, just a hint of a smile there, one that made his own face attempt to betray him and give a genuine smile back. He was able to work it down to a smirk, and thankfully Logan didn’t seem to notice. 

“If you guys are gonna keep teaming up on me, I’m just gonna go outside and strip in the snow.”

“No! I mean,” Logan took his glasses off, wiping them on the edge of his shirt before replacing them on his nose. “We can desist, Remus. There’s no need for our gathering to end up taking place in a police station holding cell.”

“Well, we gotta find something to do. Everyone else is taking so long, and I don’t know why.”

“If I recall, Roman is late because his car tire was punctured.” Janus punctuated his own addition to the conversation with a sip from his eggnog. “Weren’t you just saying to me yesterday that you punctured his wheel before you left for my place? And that’s why you needed to stay the night, to lay low until he calmed down?”

“I bought him a new pair of wheels for Christmas! It’s not like he didn’t need them, the old ones were losing their traction. I just…”

“Forgot he would need the car to get here for you to give him his gift?” The judgment was palpable in Logan’s voice, and Janus would be lying if he said he didn’t get some enjoyment out of it. How did he manage to fall for both the smartest and dumbest members of their group?

Not that either of the party’s present currently knew of his feelings. No, there was no need for that. His little crushes would pass soon enough, and the group dynamic would go back to normal. One couple in their friend group was already enough, and polyamory was complicated. Both Logan and Remus did tend to want to keep things rather simplistic, in their own ways. It was better if they stayed separate.

“Janie, back me up here!” The nasally call of Remus pulled him out of his thoughts, but he was quick to recover. 

“I wasn’t listening, and I’m sure you’re wrong anyway.” 

Remus huffed, jumping back to curl up on the couch, legs pulled up and arms crossed against his chest. “I get no respect around here.”

“You would be upset if either of us ever claimed to respect you unconditionally.” Logan’s claim seemed to bring Remus right back out of his pretend pouty episode, as he was shooting up from the couch a second later. 

“You’re right there, Nerdy Wolverine! Now come on, surely, we don’t have to wait for the others. We can just, start, you know? I’m sure no one’s thaaaaat interested in what we all got each other, I know Roman just cares about Virgil’s reaction to whatever he got him.”

Janus rolled his eyes, all too happy to let Logan take this one. It was always a team effort in managing their friend.

“I… suppose there’s not too much of an issue with that. So long as everyone here acquiesced and we got confirmation from the other’s before opening anything.”

See, now Janus was puzzled. Logan, willingly going against the schedule, agreeing with Remus in one of his ideas? And not just in some theoretical debate the two commonly had over body decomposition and the like. No, this was just going along with one of Remus’ tamer ideas. What was Logan up to?

“Perfect! I’ll text Robro and let him know.” Remus was typing and practically had the text typed before Logan could even remind him to ask, not tell. Well, this was the chaos Janus had signed up for when he hadn’t fallen for one moron and one genius who was always a little too indulgent. 

It didn’t take long for the three of them to get settled around the living area, their usual spots working well. Logan was on the far right of the couch, Remus leaning against that same arm, and Janus in the armchair closest to Logan’s seat. The other half of the couch and the loveseat were left empty, but the space felt filled enough, especially with the presents located next to each person. Plenty more were still in their place beneath the tree, but these were the only important ones right now.

“Well, I propose Remus starts, as I’m surprised he even managed to go this long without blurting out what he got each of us.” Logan’s suggestion was probably smart. The ratman was already bouncing on his heels, his body rocking back and forth as small giggles emerged from his crooked smile. The fact that his mouth was still shut was astounding. 

“Oh goody!” Within seconds, Janus had a larger wrapped box in his lap, and a quick glance told him Logan had received a similar package, albeit with different wrapping. Logan’s had little test tubes, although there did seem to be some hand-drawn explosions surrounding the chemistry equipment. Janus’ own paper had snakes all over it, but the one right next to the tag had a hat very similar to Janus’ own drawn atop its head. 

He would have to open this carefully to keep from ripping that particular scrap of paper. It definitely wouldn’t be making its way into his secret scrapbook collection that none of the others knew about.

“Open ‘em, open ‘em!” Janus didn’t fight the smile so much this time, if only because his gaze was down towards his gift. And… oh. 

“Remus, what is this?” The paper wasn��t fully removed, but he had peeled the edge enough to get a glimpse and he wasn’t sure about what he saw. At least, he shouldn’t be seeing this, if his previous statement was correct.

“I found your hidden scrapbook supplies! I didn’t look through any of the albums you’ve made, but I figured you could always use more stuff. Plus, it didn’t like you had a pair of crafting scissors in there, and those things are crazy sharp and good for stabbing things. I figured you could use a pair.”

“But how did you—”

“Jan, I’ve stayed the night at your house how many times? Me digging through your cabinets had to be something you expected.” 

Well, it definitely wasn’t out of character, but still. He was known among all of them as being the best with secrets. For Remus to know… 

“I suppose it isn’t the worst thing in the world.” Janus’ words triggered a small stim noise from Remus, the smallest sound before he rounded onto Logan, fully turning around and almost hitting the coffee table in his effort to face the other.

“And Logan? Whatcha think?”

Logan’s gift was smaller from what Janus could see, but that wasn’t much from the way it was carefully cupped in the nerd’s hands. 

“Is this a tie pin?”

“Yup! I figured you could use a new one, your old one was starting to rust a little bit.”

“And it’s shaped like a tiny tie.”

“Uh huh! That way you can be a nerd squared. Double ties!”

It was silent for a minute, Janus holding back his own comments as he examined Logan’s face. His own opinion on the quality of the gift was inconsequential until Logan’s reaction could be judged. And he had always been hard to read. 

The next noise to fill the space was a small chuckle, the volume of which slowly rose as Logan lifted his head. “It is an adequate gift, Remus. Thank you.”

“Aw, no problem! All I ask for in return is that my own gift is a pet squid.”

“You do not have the space at your and Roman’s townhouse to accommodate such an animal.”

“Life finds a way.”

“No, we are not having another discussion on Jurassic Park, at least not while I’m the only one who has to suffer through it.” Janus took a moment to mourn the fact that his eggnog cup was empty, and that the alcohol content was not nearly as high as he would appreciate. 

It was only 12:30 but it was never too early to be drinking if Remus and Logan were discussing their theories again. 

“Well then, I suppose it’s your turn to pass out gifts?” Again, Janus was left off-put by Logan’s contribution. He normally insisted (or at least suggested) they go clockwise when moving around the circle for their gift exchange; here he was suggesting the opposite. Still, Janus would avoid voicing his notice of the suspicious behavior until after the gift exchange, hopefully when Remus was being distracted bothering someone else.

There was little fanfare to the way Janus took the gifts from his side, passing Logan his while throwing Remus’ down towards him, fairly certain he would catch it. They were both decent in size, but nothing so over-the-top as to arouse suspicion. Just normal gifts for normal friends that mean nothing more in hidden messages.

“Janus, this is very kind. I hadn’t even had time to think about purchasing them myself.” In his hand were the discs for the Ace Attorney trilogy. The two of them had a conversation, months ago now, about the games and the fascinating introspective look into the Japanese court system they provided. When Logan had admitted to never actually playing the games himself, simply watching video essays about them online, Janus had been quick to suggest they could go through them together one day. In all seriousness the comment hadn’t been something he intended to come back to, but as the holiday season rolled around, he found himself compelled. It was a fun experience that incorporated learning new information, all of which was right up Logan’s alley. And if he happened to be allowed to watch and use it as an excuse to spend more time around the other, then that was nobody’s business but his own. 

“Oh Jannie, you shouldn’t have!” Remus, coincidentally, had also been given something video game related. His old DDR mat had been torn to all hell—Janus was pretty sure Remus had been stepping on live wires the last time the two had played. So, a new mat.

“I definitely didn’t make it slip-proof either so it would be sturdier and last longer.” 

“Oh, Roman’s gonna kill you for this one.” It was true, Roman hated their DDR sessions. 

“Not my fault he’s not great at the game. He really needs to stop being a sore loser every time he fails a level we can both full combo with ease.”

“To be fair, you both are able to full combo level 15’s on that game.”

“Oh, I actually got my first full combo on a level 16 the other day!” Remus spoke with such an enthused grin, and Janus allowed himself a smile as well. It had taken nearly 30 minutes of trying the same song over and over before Remus had gotten it, with Janus sitting on the sideline for moral support after the first attempt or two. He had been so happy when he succeeded.

“Well, hopefully this helps you even more, I can’t wait to see your brother’s face when you really start showing him up.” Of course, Janus had nothing but good will towards his other friend, but right now the grin on Remus’ face was just a tad more important. He wasn’t around to hear, anyway.

“Oh, he’s gonna be—”

The rest of Remus’ statement was cut off by a loud thud, attracting all of their attention yet only making Logan jump. 

“What in the world was—”

“Ah, it seems it’s my turn to deliver your gifts.” Logan straightened his tie as he readjusted in his seat, and Janus could have sworn he heard him say “although they could’ve just texted” under his breath.

It seemed Janus wouldn’t be waiting to ask about his suspicious behavior, then. “Logan, what are you up to?”

“And what was the thud?” Remus chimed in.

“Please, just indulge me a moment longer.” He was quick to pass Remus and Janus small packages then, identical in their traditional Christmas blue and silver wrapping from what he could tell. “Go ahead, open them.”

Janus cast a glance in Remus’ direction, not entirely surprised to see him shrug and then move to open his gift, spurring himself to do the same. If his theory was right, whatever he and Remus had was the same thing, and he’d rather not have his gift spoiled because he was watching someone else.

He wasn’t as careful with the paper this time, wrapping it a bit recklessly and pulling the box from beneath. It looked like a box one would use to hold a gift card, but pulling off the lid revealed no such thing. Instead, the words “look outside” were neatly written in Logan’s compact handwriting. 

There was a moment of eye contact between Janus and Remus before the latter raced to the window the sound had come from earlier. Janus wasn’t too far behind, if more civilized in his refusal to hop over the couch. 

The curtains were pulled back quickly, and very prominently, there was a message splayed out on the lawn, pressed into the fallen snow and definitely large enough for them both to read.

‘Will you both go out with me?’

“I… apologize for the untraditional nature of my gift, if one can even call it that, but I thought this would be the best way for me to ask.”

The attention was back on Logan before he even finished talking, Janus’ face for once not hiding any of his expression, his jaw open and eyes wide in surprise. He…?

“Both of us?” Remus normally had a nasally tone when he spoke, but this wasn’t that. No, there was a tremor in his voice, the same one Janus was sure he would have if he tried to speak right now. 

“Yes. I’ve come to develop feelings for both of you, and if I recall properly, you have both expressed that you’re okay with polyamory in the past.”

“That wasn’t your answer, though.” Janus felt the words leave his throat, no accusatory tone behind them. Not really any tone behind them. He was just speaking.

“Not at the time. I didn’t believe polyamory was for me, until I started to develop feelings for both of you. I came to realize that in dating only one of you, it would feel incomplete without the other. When it comes to—ugh—feelings, we all know I’m hardly a master on the subject. But I know what I feel for each of you, and I would like to know if this is something you’d be inclined to explore further.”

“And I thought hiding my feelings was the best answer.”

That came from Remus, somehow. Not himself. Huh.

“Have we all been harboring secret feelings for one another and just not said anything this whole time?”

“Well, I was kinda obvious. I did suggest having sex to both of you multiple times.”

“And we took you very seriously in that offer, Remus, truly.”

“As for myself, I only realized my feelings in their entirety a month or so ago,” Logan said. “Then, I started planning this, so I wasn’t hiding my own, per say.”

“Well then Jannie, what’s your excuse?” Remus was leaning against his shoulder when he asked, face inches away from his own. Just the kind of pressure he needed at that moment.

“Some things are better kept in secret until the time is right.”

“And for you that ‘right time’ would’ve been never. Right, Logan, I think it’s clear enough we both return your feelings and wanna go for polyamory. We can work out all the juicy stuff later.” 

“That is acceptable to me. Janus?” 

Both sets of eyes were now on him, Remus looking with a mischievous grin and Logan, a soft and hopeful smile. 

He nodded.

Remus whooped, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how hard it was coordinating with the other three to make this happen.”

“Wait, they were in on it?” He was so glad Remus had backed up before he spoke, because that yell was loud.

“Of course, I needed someone to make the sign while I kept you distracted inside. They’re out there right now waiting for me to text them about your answers. Speaking of which…” Logan was quick to pull his phone out, presumably sending the aforementioned text. 

“But how were you planning to get them all here late? It’s Patton’s house, and you couldn’t have known Remus would puncture Roman’s tire.”

“It was for his gift!”

“Yes, well, the original plan was for Roman to just fake having car troubles, requiring Paton to go and pick him up.” As he spoke, Logan adjusted his glasses, the pretty pink that had been coloring his cheeks finally dulling a bit. Shame. “Remus’ pranks just added another level of realism to the whole thing, if annoying Roman in the process. I do find it humorous that he unknowingly contributed to a plan he wasn’t even aware of.”

“I’m right here, you know!”

“Well, we can never be sure what that one will do,” Janus said with a smirk, all too agreeable with continuing the bit.

“You guys are so rude. I deserve cuddles and kisses for this behavior.” The pout on Remus’ face was absolutely adorable.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to hold off on that for now,” Logan said, and Janus noticed he was checking a text on his phone. “It appears our presence is being requested outside as ‘Roman really wants to hit Remus upside the head with a snowball as payback.’”

“Oh, he really thinks he can win a snowball fight? I have a whole harem on my side.”

“Debatable,” Janus chimed in, making his way towards the staircase so he could get to the first floor and into the inevitable snow day they were all about to have.

“The us being a harem thing or you guys being on my side?”

“Both,” answered Logan, and Janus felt he could kiss him right there.

“Hey!”

They made their way outside after only one attempt from Remus to steal Janus’ coat, quickly being enveloped in hugs and congratulations from Patton. Roman and Virgil, it seemed, would be sending their congratulations over later, as they were currently hidden behind a snow wall which Janus was sure had plenty of ammo waiting behind it.

And he never was one to go for the side with a disadvantage now, was he?

Sure, the first acts of his new relationship were now making fun of one of his partners and then abandoning them for the other side in a snowball fight, and he definitely hit Remus right on his mustache with one of them, but honestly, this was who he was. This was the manipulative liar that apparently, both of his crushes had fallen for.

So no, Janus had no problems with his actions. He very much doubted his boyfriends did, either.

[lefaystrent]

Primal Urges

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: hints of Prinxiety

Warnings: prospective cannabilism, temporary character death

Summary: Virgil specifically remembers dying, and yet he still lives. Now with a hankering for people meat.

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Virgil didnt crave human flesh before he died.

He craved lots of things in life: pasta, oreos, midnight reruns of Friends, mental stability. Ya know, healthy normal things.

Then again, taste buds do change every seven years. And people, canonically, do taste like beef. So what's more irrisitible than the American Dream?

Burgers. The American dream is burgers.

Big juicy burgers just begging to be ripped into with teeth. Burgers that would splatter bloody goodness. Rare burgers that would slide down his throat in a warm heady rush. Something raw to fill the emptiness within his gut that growled its demands to be sated.

Yes, normal healthy cravings.

That's why Virgil found himself sitting there downing a bottle of bourbon. He tried in vain to push away memories of his recent death experience while waiting for the intense urge of NOM NOM to subside.

"How long does this usually take?" Virgil asked, looking inside the empty bottle as if he might find more.

The bartender looked askance at the other two empty bottles sitting beside Virgil. "The alcohol poisoning you mean? Just how long have you been here?"

Virgil blinked at the handsome man before him decked out from head to toe in black. That was his kind of man. "Oh, maybe it did work. I don't remember seeing you back there."

"My shift just started," said the man, and 'Roman' said the name tag on his pristine black polo shirt. He had that face on his face like he was trying to smile, just how the relentless years of customer service taught you, but was failing completely. The farthest he got was moderately bewildered mixed with borderline awe.

"Hm, nice," Virgil said, because really there was nothing else to say. Especially when all Virgil's brain could scream at him for the moment was, Look at that arm! Bite it, rawr!

Virgil shook his head. Damn primal needs.

"Maybe I should switch to tequila," he grumbled.

"Maybe you wanna slow down," Roman advised. "You've had enough to down an elephant. Look, you've even spilt some on yourself."

Virgil looked down obligingly and couldn't help but laugh at the stain on his own shirt. "Oh that. Yeah that's not my drink, it's blood."

Roman's stance didnt change but his eyes were definitely more focused. Virgil wondered if he imagined the sound of a heartbeat speeding up.

Primal brain said, Fresh meat fears us. Fresh meat shall be tasty. *insert evil laugh here*

To clarify, Virgil raised a hand to stop the bartender from calling for help. "Don't worry, it's my blood."

Virgil did not think the clarification helped much. He should try again.

"Listen," Virgil lowered his voice a little, as much as you can in a bar and still be heard. He leaned forward a bit but the bartender most certainly did not. "I died this morning. It's been a really weird day."

"Ah," Roman nodded slowly, and at least his heartbeat slowed marginally. He even chanced a curve of the lips. "Far be it from me to question coping mechanisms. Normally I might ask if you're sure you don't need medical assistance, but you appear abnormally...fine, all things considered."

"You look pretty tasty yourself," Virgil purred and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.

Did all of his self control die as well? Sheesh. Someone end him properly, please.

It's not like you weren't thinking it, Primal Brain supplied helpfully.

Luckily for all of Virgil's sanity, Roman took the compliment in stride. He laughed, "Well, clean clothes do go a long way."

"I meant to get changed before, I swear, I just..."

"Weird day," Roman finished for him. He nodded politely and smiled in a way that made Virgil want to eat his face off. Literally.

"You should probably go help other customers," Virgil word-vomited. "Or get me more bourbon. Or tequila. Or hell, wine if it'll do anything for me. Maybe everclear."

Roman chuckled again, "I'll make my rounds, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you off dear. Even if you seem sober enough, the evidence suggests otherwise."

Adding insult to injury, Roman slipped him a glass of water before he left. Virgil watched the liquid settle to stillness in the clear cup and felt absolutely no desire to drink it.

We want blood. Blood! Primal Brain roared inside him.

Virgil put his head in his hands and wondered how he got into this mess.

[fangirltothefullest]

You want sanders sides asks? Well I'm here at your service!

What was your first episode? Mine was accepting anxiety part 2 (which was kinda annoying to have been so badly spoiled immediately, but it worked out)

What was your favorite side initially and who is it now? For me that was Virgil and now it's IDK 😭

Favorite song in the series so far? Mine is probably incomplete!

Personal favorite episode and why? Mine is moving on cuz of the puppets and emotional catharsis for Patton

Favorite ships? I first was a basic ass logicality and prinxiety shipper, I still ship them (cuz they're adorable) but now I basically like everything (especially mociet)

What non-common predictions do you have for the season finale?

Sorry if this is a lot, just wanted to cover your bases 😉

- @uncharacteristically-careless

Favourite episodes are accepting anxiety part 2, and Janus and remus's introduction episodes!

My favourite side was Patton because he was most like me but it quickly became Logan (My Beloved) because he cares SO MUCH and SO DEEPLY about everyone working together.

My favourite song is Remus's introduction song its so catchy but like I also REALLY love Janus's rendition of the one from OtGW.

Favourite ships: everyone with everyone with the exception of platonic Remus and Roman. I love being a multishipper because I can have tasty treats wherever I go. XD

I don't know what common prediction wise at this point lol a lot of speculation gets tossed around. My hope for the season finale is that we tackle either Logan or Roman ans I don't think we should solve the nico thing, nor the orange thing. I am hoping we get hints for it but I'd love to have logans issues build and tackle Roman instead!

[selfdestructivecat]

The Best Medicine

AO3 Link (kudos are greatly appreciated!)

A/N: FINALLY it’s done! My fluffy magnum opus! You want simps? Boy howdy, you’ve come to the right place!

HUGE thanks to @lovelivingmydreams for being my BETA again! Her help is always greatly appreciated! Check out her fics!

I hope you guys enjoy! ^.^

Words: 17,127

Rating: T

Genre: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Roman/Virgil (Prinxiety)

Warnings/Triggers: Minor injury and blood; Self-deprication/hatred; Swearing

Summary: Roman hears Virgil laugh exactly one (1) time, and decides that he will do literally anything to hear it again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman and Virgil do not get along.

Roman is Creativity, wonderous and striking and beautiful. He speaks as if barely resisting the temptation to burst into song, his voice boisterous and lyrical. He dresses like the prince he knows he is, purest white and passionate red accented by the noblest of gold. His very presence demands attention, confidence shining from him like rays of sunlight and charisma dripping from every word, sweet as honey. And of course, he deserves this attention. His ideas are unmatched, his execution flawless. When he requests attention, he receives it, because his existence brings a promise to dazzle and amaze.

Virgil, on the other hand…

Okay, so maybe Virgil isn’t as useless as Roman initially thought. The emo’s own demands and urges occasionally serve a noble purpose in protecting Thomas. A star can’t shine if its light has been extinguished, after all. And perhaps Virgil’s frantic nudges towards rehearsing more for performances are… helpful. And Roman appreciates the assistance. Truly, he does!

But by the gods, why does Virgil have to be such a downer!?

Virgil’s voice is low and growling, almost like a warning that he can, and will, bite if provoked. His clothes are as dark and gloomy as his personality, all blacks and grays that seem to drain the color out of any room he occupies. His nonchalant sloppiness regarding his appearance – evident in his unkempt hair, ill-fitted clothing, and splotchy eyeshadow — seems to mock Roman’s diligent perfection. Where Roman is loud and bright, Virgil is quiet and subdued. Not that Virgil lets that stop him from being frustratingly persistent whenever Thomas tries to approach a cute guy.

Roman and Virgil do not get along. They don’t get along because they literally can’t. They are like water and oil, fire and ice, Patton and spiders, and whatever other cliché Roman can come up with to accentuate the fact that they just aren’t compatible.

Even after Virgil revealed his name, the Anxious Side barely shows himself. When he does sulk from his room into the commons, it’s always with a sullen expression, like he had just attended a funeral. His demeanor rarely changes when he interacts with the other Sides, and when Roman does notice a change, it’s usually Virgil simply alternating between “Grumpy” and “Very Grumpy”. Even Patton’s bubbly cheer, usually infectious, seems unable to penetrate the darkness that is Virgil’s seemingly endless pool of angst.

This stubborn insistence on gloominess persists even when the Sides attempt to include him in fun activities, such as game nights and movie marathons. While the others are laughing and cracking jokes (including Logan, in his own… unique way, usually involving flash cards), Virgil rarely even smiles. At most, he would flash a smirk or snort in amusement, which in Roman’s humble opinion doesn’t count. A smile is meant to convey happiness, and laughter is the definition of unrestrained joy. Virgil smirks like he's plotting something, and he is quick to slap a hand over his mouth at the slightest hint of a chuckle.

Virgil’s smiles are few and far-between, a feeble candle’s attempt to pierce an all-encompassing darkness. And not once, in all the years that Roman’s known him, has Virgil laughed.

Until…

Well.

Let’s start at the beginning.

For Roman, the day began like any other. He woke up at approximately nine o’clock, lured from his bed by the delectable aroma of Patton’s patented (or rather, “Patton-ted”) pancakes. He spent the next thirty minutes donning his usual ensemble and brushing his hair meticulously, so that not a single strand was out of place. With a snap of his fingers, the speakers in his room turned on with a satisfying click, providing pleasant music for Roman to sing and hum along to as he worked on his appearance. By the time the last few notes of Beauty and the Beast’s ‘Be Our Guest’ faded away, Roman left his room with a grin on his face and a song in his heart.

He had taken the stairs two at a time, loudly declaring his presence with a sweep of his hands. He was greeted with Patton’s chirpy “Heya, kiddo!” and an eyeroll from Logan, as was the norm. However, he was surprised to see that Virgil was also in the kitchen, quietly setting the table as Patton flipped the last of his pancakes. At Roman’s entrance, Virgil looked up and slightly grimaced, as if Roman’s presence were akin to a bug that had naively wandered into the house. Roman made sure to lock that memory up in a safe place in his mind, because he was absolutely going to bring it up later and he was going to redefine pettiness.

(Not because it hurt. Because it didn’t. Roman didn’t care what Virgil thought. He knew that he was amazing, and one gloomy emo’s opinion wasn’t going to change that. Obviously.)

And so, ignoring the grumpy Side in favor of the delicious stack of pancakes Patton was plating for him, Roman had walked over in long, confident strides.

Until suddenly, he wasn’t.

Now, Roman is usually the epitome of grace. He has memorized dozens of choreographed numbers from various musicals, perfecting his control over his body and honing his ability to transform movement into art. He is a well-seasoned fighter with many victories to his name, his body sharpened just as much as his beloved sword. But at that very moment, as Roman approached the breakfast table, his hip caught the edge of the couch in the common room, causing him to lose his balance. The next thing he knew, he was face-to-face with the floor.

Roman groaned in pain, hip already bruising from the impact. Luckily, he was otherwise unharmed, aside from the severe blow to his dignity. He was just starting to push himself up from his spot on the floor when it happened.

“Pfft—!”

Roman’s eyes had shot up, face flushed when indignation, but whatever snappy defense he had planned on shouting was soon caught in his throat.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Virgil was laughing, nearly doubled over and needing to support himself on the kitchen table. His eyes, normally stoic and unexpressive, were sparkling with mirth, crinkled from the wide grin that seemed to grow with every moment. The laughter itself was loud and raucous, as rough around the edges as the Side it came from, but it was delightful and genuine in that way all laughter is.

And it was beautiful.

Which brings us back to the present, where Virgil is heaving from the force of his laughter, Patton is rushing to Roman’s aid, and Roman has been staring at the cackling Side for approximately seven seconds too long to be considered normal. He barely processes Patton helping him to his feet, the fatherly Side chiding Virgil for his behavior despite his own lips quirking in amusement. He completely misses the smirk Logan sends his way, sharp and teasing, as he sits at his spot at the table. He doesn’t even touch his pancakes as Virgil’s giggles slowly die down, allowing him a moment to breathe and wipe tears from his eyes.

“You sure you have enough room for those pancakes, Princey?” Virgil snickers, “After the carpet you just ate?”

Patton spit-takes the milk he had unfortunately been sipping at that very moment, and Logan hides his own smile behind a napkin as he brushes away crumbs that aren’t there. And Roman would be offended, except he is too distracted by how Virgil’s eyes sparkle from unshed, happy tears. And how had Roman not noticed that Virgil has heterochromia, his left eye an emerald green and his right eye the loveliest of purples, both shimmering like gemstones?

“Nothing?” Virgil goads, smiling around a bite of sliced strawberries, “You got a stomach ache from your pre-breakfast meal?”

Logan barks out a loud “HA!” at the quip, and Patton scolds Virgil despite looking close to laughter himself. This finally snaps Roman out of his stupor, allowing him to hastily shoot back a jab of his own. The rest of breakfast is spent exchanging light-hearted insults with the Anxious Side and nearly dropping his fork every time he glances up and sees Virgil’s teasing smile.

And as he’s lying in bed that night, replaying that moment over and over again like a broken record, he comes to two important conclusions.

One, that Virgil’s laugh may be the most wonderful sound he has ever heard in his entire existence.

And two, that he would do literally anything to hear that laugh again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Exactly two days have passed since The Incident. Roman had dedicated those two days to intense research, hours spent watching various comedians and reading pages filled with jokes. Roman is now a certified comedy expert, and he is ready to perform just as he always has: perfectly.

…Since when did Roman get pre-performance nerves?

Roman finds himself frozen at the top of the stairs, hand on the railing and ready to descend. He can faintly hear Logan and Virgil conversing in the living room, their voices too soft to discern anything specific. Roman knows his hesitance is absurd. He is more than prepared. 

And yet, as soon as he heard Virgil’s voice, his mind was filled with memories of precious laughter and an insufferable smirk. Blood had flooded his cheeks for reasons he couldn’t discern (or perhaps simply refused to), and suddenly descending the stairs seemed like a horribly daunting undertaking. 

This is stupid!

With a deep breath and much more effort than such a task demanded, Roman takes a hefty step, allowing the momentum to guide him the rest of the way down the stairs. He turns towards the common room, and his breath catches when he sees that Logan and Virgil are turned towards him. His journey downstairs may have been an unrivaled feat of mankind, but it certainly wasn’t quiet.

“Greetings, Roman,” says Logan, who is situated comfortably on the couch with a notepad on his lap. 

Virgil, lounging sideways in the loveseat with his legs draped over the armrest, gives a wordless salute. Roman feels slightly irked at the lack of a proper greeting, which is strange, since it had never bothered him before. 

The two continue to stare at Roman, who stares back in confusion before realizing that he should probably give them a response.

“Oh! G-greetings, Logan! Virgil!” Roman leans on the banister and crosses his arms in a hasty attempt at nonchalance, but if his aching back is any indication, the position must look incredibly awkward.

Logan and Virgil both raise an eyebrow in sync. 

“No nicknames today, Princey?” Virgil asks, looking suspicious at Roman’s abnormal behavior.

Roman inwardly winces. Only a few seconds, and he is already completely thrown off kilter, his charisma slipping through his fingers like sand. Fumbling his words slightly, he tries to recover.

“I, uh, decided that I should focus my creative talents on… our upcoming videos! Yes, that’s right! I sincerely apologize for the lack of nicknames on my part.”

Regaining a bit of confidence when his words come out evenly, Roman smirks playfully.

“Careful, Emo. One might think that you want me to call you nicknames.”

Virgil balks, the tips of his ears noticeably red. 

“N-no, that would be stupid,” Virgil grumbles, looking away. 

Roman smiles triumphantly. While the two are now allies instead of enemies, it is still way too much fun to tease Virgil.

Logan takes that moment to speak up. 

“Well, nicknames aside, I’m glad that you are focusing your efforts on future projects,” Logan commends, “In fact, Virgil and I have been conversing on a similar matter.”

Roman perks up, interested.

“Oh? A new Sanders Sides video? Perhaps one featuring… moi?”

Roman strikes a dramatic pose, and Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Actually, we were discussing a potential livestream with some of Thomas’ friends,” Logan corrects, “Virgil was helping me identify some potential obstacles that come with streaming live, rather than simply recording and releasing a video.”

“Everything you say will be out there forever…” Virgil mutters, his voice low and sinister, “No editing. No take-backs. Just thousands of people catching your every word, waiting for you to say something wrong or problematic…”

Virgil shudders, his eyeshadow darkening like clouds before a heavy downpour. Roman can’t help but scoff, and Virgil’s eyes dart back towards him, sharp and challenging. 

“I think you’re over-exaggerating, Gloomy Tunes. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Virgil’s expression darkens, and he opens his mouth to retaliate. However, to Roman’s surprise, Logan reaches over and places a hand on Virgil’s knee. Virgil startles, eyes wide as he turns to Logan instead.

“Roman is partially right, although his tone could use some work,” Logan says, throwing a pointed look towards Roman that makes him feel slightly taken aback, “You are catastrophizing, assuming that everyone watching will be looking for reasons to tear Thomas down. While it is certainly possible that there may be a few–” 

Logan quickly summons his pile of flashcards, flipping through them until he finds the one he is looking for.

“...”trolls” in the chat, the vast majority of people will likely be there because they like Thomas, and won’t be purposefully looking for ways to disrupt the stream.”

He then offers Virgil a rare smile.

“But nevertheless, you make a good point. Because we are streaming, we will not be able to edit out any mistakes. So it would be best to execute greater caution before we speak, so that we don’t say anything that can be interpreted poorly. I’m sure we can count on you to assist with that.”

Logan gives Virgil one last reassuring pat. Virgil remains still for a moment, flabbergasted at the praise, before turning away in embarrassment. But Roman catches a hint of a smile.

Roman suddenly feels inexplicably jealous.

“Roman, now that you’re here, perhaps you could help us brainstorm activities we could do during the stream?”

Roman shakes his head slightly, dismissing the strange feeling. 

“Of course!” Roman grins, walking towards the couch, “Have we decided on a theme?”

“Not yet,” Logan says, shaking his head, “But Patton did suggest that we could use the stream to raise money for a charity. While we haven’t decided which charity we will be raising money for, we have narrowed our options down to three different organizations”

Logan flips to a page in his notebook and places it on the coffee table, but Roman is no longer paying attention. 

Charity… Charity…

Roman’s eyes light up, suddenly remembering his reason for venturing downstairs to begin with. Seeing the opening, Roman pounces. 

“Say, Virgil. Speaking of charity…”

Virgil turns towards Roman, once again suspicious. He is no longer smiling, and some part of Roman feels… colder, like a camper whose campfire was suddenly extinguished by a great gust of wind. Nevertheless, he presses on.

“Do you know why crabs don’t donate to charity?”

Virgil blinks, not expecting such a shift in the direction of the conversation. Roman pauses, allowing a moment for the suspense to build.

Unfortunately, he waits a moment too long. As he opens his mouth to deliver the punchline, Logan interrupts. 

“Crabs don’t use money, Roman,” Logan asserts, frowning in confusion, like how a teacher may react to a particularly dumb question from a student, “Nor do they use technology that makes donating to charities possible.”

Roman’s eye twitches. 

“Yes, that is true, Logan,” Roman says through gritted teeth, “But also—”

“Furthermore, I doubt that crabs possess the intellect necessary to make such a transaction,” Logan continues, “I don’t understand why you are bringing this up. I’m very certain that all of the stream’s viewers will be human, unless a viewer’s pet is sitting with their owner, and even then the animal does not have the ability to make any donations.”

Virgil snickers behind his hand, and Roman feels his face grow hot. He doesn’t know if he’s more upset at the fact that Virgil is laughing at him, or that Virgil is hiding his pretty laughter. 

“I know, Logan,” Roman growls, a vein popping on his forehead, “I’m not arguing about whether or not crabs are capable of donating to charity. I’m not that stupid.”

“Could’a fooled me,” Virgil pipes up.

Roman sends a scathing glare towards Virgil, although most of his anger quickly dissipates at the smirk playing on Virgil’s lips, and his mind is filled with pretty pretty pretty.

“Well then, I don’t understand why you are bringing up the subject of crabs,” Logan frowns, his brow furrowed in confusion, “Unless you are suggesting that as a potential theme for the stream? One of the charities Patton suggested is called “Mermaids”, so perhaps a nautical theme is not out of the question…”

“No, Logan,” Roman whines, running a hand roughly through his hair, “I was trying to do something—Look, can you just let me say what I want to say without interruption? Please?”

At the near-pleading tone in Roman’s voice, Logan raises an eyebrow. Even Virgil’s suspicion momentarily gives way to curiosity. After a moment, Logan sighs, then gestures towards Roman to carry on. Roman sighs in relief.

“So, do you know why crabs don’t donate to charity—”

Roman quickly raises a finger towards Logan, seeing the Logical Side open his mouth to answer.

“Don’t answer that, Logan.”

Logan looks even more confused, likely at being asked a question he is not expected to answer. He looks towards Virgil, who simply shrugs, before turning back to Roman with skepticism. 

Roman pauses once again, although not for as long as he would have liked, fearing another interruption.

“...It’s because they’re shellfish!"

Roman grins broadly, arms outstretched, like a museum tour guide presenting a grand painting.

The silence that hangs in the room is heavy. 

No… no reaction?

Logan, somehow, looks even more confused, while Virgil remains silent, looking towards Roman as if silently judging him. A far cry from the laughter that Roman was hoping for.

“What… What does being a shellfish have to do with donating to charity?” Logan asks hesitantly, as if trying to parse a trick question. 

Virgil sighs as he turns to Logan, his expression noticeably gentler than when he was looking at Roman. 

“I think it’s a pun, Teach,” Virgil explains, “Like, a play on the word “selfish”. So it’s like saying that crabs are selfish, so they don’t donate to charity.”

“Ah!” Logan brightens, pleased at finally understanding, before his expression suddenly sours.

“...Ah.”

Virgil snorts as Logan wrinkles his nose in displeasure, as if he had smelled something particularly unpleasant. 

Roman, still holding the pose, feels his heart sink like a deflated balloon. While Virgil had technically laughed, it had been at Logan’s reaction, not Roman’s joke. He feels like an actor on stage who flubbed their lines, except he has no idea what he did wrong. 

Does Virgil not like puns? Roman wonders, No… No, Virgil tries to hide it, but he always laughs at Patton’s puns. Does he not like crabs? He didn’t react too negatively to the first half of the joke, so that doesn’t feel right.

…Is it me?

Roman feels strangely hollow, as if something deep inside him had either shrunk or disappeared.

…No, that’s ridiculous. It can’t be that.

Before Roman can ponder further, Logan speaks up once again.

“Well, now that we’re done with… that,” Logan shudders, flipping through his notebook once again, “perhaps we can continue discussing the charity stream?”

Sighing in defeat, Roman takes a seat beside Logan.

But his mind isn’t on the stream. As the three Sides converse, Roman is already planning his next move.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman leaves his room with a renewed sense of confidence. He faintly hears his computer buzzing away, struggling under the weight of hundreds of open tabs, the fruits of Roman’s rigorous research. 

He has soared beyond the title of a mere expert. He is now a comedy connoisseur. No one will be able to withstand the pure, unfiltered humor contained in every joke he tells. 

He’d like to see Virgil try to hide his laughter now.

Roman smiles as he makes his way to Virgil’s room with a pep in his step. However, right as he’s about to knock, he notices a delicious aroma wafting up from downstairs, something sweet and homely. 

Ah, Patton must be baking, Roman concludes, mouth already watering at whatever delicious treats Patton must be whipping up. Given the smell, the baked goods must nearly be done.

…Perhaps Virgil can wait just a few minutes. Just long enough for Roman to sneak a cookie or two. 

As he heads downstairs towards the kitchen, the aroma of sugar and chocolate growing stronger and more enticing, he’s surprised to see not only Patton, but also Virgil in the kitchen. Roman notices flour in the Anxious Side’s hair, as well as splotches of cookie dough on his cheeks and around his mouth. 

He is grinning ear-to-ear, and Roman suddenly feels as if an invisible assailant had punched him in the stomach, hard. 

Patton, a hot batch of fresh cookies in his hands, finally notices Roman. He smiles brightly in greeting, settling the tray on the counter. 

When Virgil sees him, however, his smile nearly vanishes, and Roman feels strangely hurt. 

“Hi, Roman! You’re just in time! Virgil and I made some chocolate chip cookies. Did you know that Virge is an amazing baker?”

Patton lightly hip-checks Virgil upon mentioning his name. At the gesture, Virgil smiles slightly, but it’s a shadow of its former self.

“I was not aware,” Roman says, turning towards Virgil with a teasing smile, “I didn’t know he had time between all of his brooding.”

The smile is completely gone now, and Roman realizes too late that Virgil had taken his words seriously.

“Wait, Virgil, I didn’t mean—”

“Whatever,” Virgil growls. He pointedly faces away from Roman and, spotting the tray of cookies, snatches one off the tray in an attempt to play indifference. He winces slightly at the heat, as the cookies haven’t been given the proper time to cool, before popping it into his mouth anyway. He immediately hisses in pain, spitting the hot cookie back into his hand and reaching for a napkin.

“Oh, careful, Honey!” Patton warns, rushing to the fridge and pulling out a carton of milk, “They’re still really hot! Here, let me get you something cold to drink.”

Roman snickers, but stops immediately when Patton shoots him a disapproving look. He suddenly recalls Logan reacting similarly after Roman had teased Virgil. 

He doesn’t quite understand. He and Virgil had always teased each other and traded jabs like this. He knows that they don’t mean anything, and surely Virgil does as well. So why were Logan and Patton looking at him like he had done something wrong? And why had Virgil taken his words so seriously instead of reacting in kind?

Virgil takes the offered milk gratefully, downing almost the entire glass.

“Thanks, Pop-Star. I appreciate it.”

Patton beams at the nickname, squeezing Virgil’s arm affectionately. 

“Now, I know you’re eager, but good things crumb to those who wait!”

For a second, Roman expects the same silence that had followed his own joke. However, Virgil immediately starts chuckling, hand once again rising to hide it. 

“I guess I couldn’t take the heat,” he shoots back, to which Patton responds with peals of laughter. 

“Nah, you’ll be okay, Virge. You’re one tough cookie, after all!”

Virgil snorts indignantly, his hand falling to support himself on the table, and he and Patton lose themselves to giggles. With his hand out of the way, Roman gets a full view of Virgil’s laughter, and breathing suddenly feels slightly more difficult.

After a moment, however, the warm feeling is quickly replaced by irritation. In what way was Patton’s joke better than his!? Patton hadn’t spent hours researching the best jokes and puns. He likely makes them up on the fly! 

So how is Virgil laughing so easily!?

Flustered and indignant, Roman interrupts, determined to produce the same result.

“W-well, I gotta say, these cookies will certainly, uh…”

He fumbles further when Patton and Virgil turn towards him, his words catching when a ghost of a smile is directed his way.

“...They’ll do what, Roman?” Patton gently prompts, giving Roman the opportunity to pick himself back up. Roman shakes his head, dispelling the irrational emotions.

“These cookies will certainly… bake my day!”

Roman grins, pleased that he was able to remember a cookie-themed pun off the top of his head. Patton cheers, laughter intermingling, and runs over to give Roman a hug. But Roman doesn’t feel victorious, because as Patton wraps Roman in his arms, he sees Virgil over Patton’s shoulder.

His arms are crossed as he leans against the counter. He is no longer laughing as he gazes as Roman, unimpressed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s been weeks, and Roman isn’t making any progress.

Roman had tried numerous jokes, ranging from knock-knock jokes, to dad jokes, and even a single “Yo Mama” joke that had produced such a disastrous reaction that Roman had quickly decided to not attempt a similar joke again. 

(He knows that they don’t technically have mothers, being manifestations of aspects of a personality. He didn’t need Logan to remind him.)

And yet, every time without fail, Virgil doesn’t react. 

Roman doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, which frustrates him to no end. He knows that comedy is subjective, and that certain subjects may only appeal to some. 

But he knows that Virgil likes puns! As much as Virgil claims to enjoy only dark humor, Roman has seen the way Virgil quickly turns away at corny jokes, his shaking shoulders giving his amusement away. Roman has seen the way Virgil responds to Patton’s puns. Hell, even Logan’s drier sense of humor can produce a snicker from the usually grumpy Side. 

So what is Roman doing wrong? 

…A voice in his head whispers an answer that Roman refuses to consider, so he ignores it. 

No, he would not allow himself to be discouraged. He’ll reach a breakthrough eventually, or his aspect isn’t Creativity. 

As he leaves his room, a new batch of jokes rattling around in his head, he passes by Patton in the hallway.

“Hey Roman!” Patton says cheerfully, and despite Roman’s melancholy, the Moral Side’s cheer brings a smile to his face.

“Hey Pat, have you seen Virgil?”

“Yeah, I was just talking to him. He’s downstairs in the living room.”

It’s subtle, but Roman notices a slight change to Patton’s demeanor. His smile is still bright, and he is still bouncing on the tips of his toes, but it is as if clouds had drifted to partially block the sun.

“Did you… need something from him?” Patton asks, slightly hesitant.

“No, I just wanted to talk to him about something,” Roman answers, frowning slightly at the change in tone.

“Ok…” Patton stops swaying, and his expression shifts to something more serious. “But, Roman… Please go slightly easy on him, okay? Today has been a bit rough for the Shadowling.”

“Rough?”

“Yeah, he didn’t say anything about it, but he seems a bit more on edge. I think that’s why he left his room to spend time downstairs. You know how his room can be sometimes.”

Roman nods, shuddering at the memory of doubts and fears invading his mind, like monsters creeping in the darkness and concocting evil schemes. 

“Do you know why he’s upset?” Roman inquires further.

“No, I didn’t want to pressure him,” Patton says, brow furrowed in worry, “I just hope he knows that he can come to us if he needs anything…”

“I’m sure he does, Patton,” Roman reassures, patting Patton on the shoulder, “and I’ll be nice, I promise.”

At his words, Patton smiles in relief. 

“Thanks, Roman. See you for dinner? I’m sure you’ll be waffle-y pleased at what I’m making tonight!”

“Of course,” Roman chuckles, “I won’t miss it.”

With a final wave goodbye, Roman heads downstairs. Sure enough, Virgil is lounging on the couch, lying down sideways with his head propped by a pillow. He is scrolling through a social media app Roman doesn’t recognize, probably Tumblr if he were to guess. Roman can faintly hear music emitting from Virgil’s earbuds. He seems lost in his own world.

If Patton hadn’t said anything to Roman, Virgil would have seemed perfectly relaxed. However, now that Roman is looking for the signs, Virgil definitely appears slightly worse-for-wear. His eyes are glazed from something other than boredom, and despite the fact that he’s lying down, Virgil carries tension in his shoulders, and his hands are shaking. 

Roman hesitates, unsure how to proceed. His presence seems to be far from pleasant for the Anxious Side, if their previous interactions are any indication. However, simply leaving when Virgil seems so upset leaves a sour taste in Roman’s mouth. His purpose as Creativity is to inspire and entertain, after all, spreading wonder and happiness to all. Besides, he sought out Virgil for a reason, and is reluctant to back out now when Virgil is sitting right in front of him.

Roman brightens like a lightbulb, an idea beginning to take shape. If Virgil is feeling down, then Roman can do something to cheer him up. And what better way to do that than with a joke? 

Pleased with his plan, Roman struts forward, greeting Virgil with a wide smile.

“Hey Virgil!”

Virgil yelps, his phone flying from his hands and landing on the carpet. Virgil swirls towards Roman, his gaze nearly murderous. 

“Geez, Roman! Warn a guy, will you!?” Virgil snaps.

Roman winces under Virgil’s glare. His words had come out slightly louder than he had intended, his excitement leaking into his voice. He does feel slightly miffed at Virgil’s reaction, though. Roman hadn’t intended to scare Virgil, so he doesn’t think he deserves the daggers Virgil is shooting at him.

…Although, perhaps Roman can afford Virgil some grace. He did seem to be on edge before Roman announced himself, so Roman can understand the reaction. And his original intent was to make Virgil feel better, so it wouldn’t do any good to start any arguments. 

“Ah… my deepest apologies, Surly Temple. It was never my intention to scare you.”

Virgil’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling.

“You’re… apologizing?”

That catches Roman off guard. Why does Virgil seem so surprised? Why wouldn’t Roman apologize? He is a prince, after all, and chivalry is an important tool in a prince’s repertoire. Of course he would do the polite thing and apologize for his errors. Roman suddenly feels offended at Virgil’s insinuation.

“Of course I’m apologizing! Why wouldn’t I?”

Virgil seems even more bewildered.

“Well, excuse me for being surprised! It’s not like you do it that often, do you?”

Roman is stunned. What does Virgil mean by that? 

“What are you talking about?” Roman demands, his voice rising, “When have I not apologized to you for something I’ve done!?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about when you constantly make fun of me and treat me like a villain!” Virgil yells, his own voice rising to match Roman’s.

The two fall silent, Virgil’s words hovering in the air like a putrid gas. Virgil’s tough exterior cracks, like hardened clay when heated for slightly too long. 

“I… Ignore that,” Virgil says, his expression regretful, “I didn’t mean any of that. Sorry for raising my voice. ”

Roman can’t hear a word, Virgil’s voice muddled as if Roman is submerged underwater.

After Virgil’s acceptance, he had thought that everything had been resolved. Virgil was listened to, his role as Anxiety accepted and even commended, and he no longer had to play the part of a villain. He had even seemed happy. So naturally, Roman had thought everything was okay, that Virgil had forgiven them for everything they had done. But Roman…

A whirlwind of memories suddenly barrages him, moments strung with insults and passive-aggressive comments directed towards the Anxious Side. Moments he had easily brushed off at the time, assuming that Virgil would naturally do the same.

Roman… never apologized to Virgil. For any of it. Even worse, Roman had continued to exhibit the same behavior, completely unaware of the pain his words were inflicting. An overwhelming emotion encompasses him, one he is finally able to identify: guilt.

“I… I really haven’t, have I?” Roman whispers, his voice croaking slightly with emotion. Virgil’s eyes widen in panic.

“Roman, it’s fine, seriously!” he exclaims, rising from his lounged position on the couch, “It’s not a big deal–”

“It is! I thought things were okay, but you must have assumed…”

Roman’s words trail off as a more horrifying thought crosses his mind.

“You don’t think… You don’t think that I still hate you, right?”

Virgil’s eyes dart to the side, purposefully avoiding Roman’s eyes.

“I mean… Don’t you?”

“No!”

Roman’s voice comes out desperate, and Virgil recoils as if struck. Another silence hangs in the air, even tenser than the first. 

Slowly, as if approaching an easily-spooked animal, Roman delicately settles next to Virgil on the couch. Virgil curls into himself, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Seeing how unsettled Virgil looks, Roman is tempted to back off, or to cut the tension with theatrics. But he holds his ground, like a weary soldier bracing himself for the next wave of enemies. This conversation is important, and if he wishes to make any ground with Virgil, he needs to persevere. His jokes can wait.

“Virgil.”

Virgil reluctantly faces Roman, his face partially hidden by his arms so that only his eyes are visible, guarded and apprehensive. Roman wants to kick himself for putting that expression on Virgil’s face.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes I do.”

Virgil falls silent. Roman takes a deep breath. 

“Virgil, I treated you horribly.” Roman begins, cringing when his voice cracks at the last word, “I ignored and berated you when you were just trying to help. I assumed you were the enemy, and I treated you as such without truly getting to know you. That is not how a prince should act. That’s not… That’s not how anyone should act. And for that, I deeply apologize.”

Roman meets Virgil’s eyes, trying to convey his sincerity through his expression. Virgil’s eyes widen, holding the gaze for a few seconds, before he squirms uncomfortably and looks away.

“I already told you, you don’t need to apologize,” Virgil mumbles.

“But I—”

“Roman.”

Roman’s mouth clamps shut.

“Please, just listen to me for once,” Virgil pleads. Roman’s expression must have betrayed his hurt, because he quickly amends: “Sorry, shit, I’m bad at this. I just—I mean—You’ve—UGH!”

Virgil rises to his feet, hands gripping his hair tight enough to hurt. He takes a few deep breaths, and Roman notices, with another guilty pang in his heart, that his eyeshadow has darkened significantly.

“I-I’m sorry,” Roman stutters, moving to stand before Virgil, “I didn’t mean to—”

“STOP APOLOGIZING.”

Virgil’s voice echoes, magnified by his anxiety. As if the words are an incantation, Roman freezes in place.

“I—I’M SORry, I didn’t m-mean—"

Virgil inhales, shaky and uncertain, then exhales. His shoulders are still tense, his eyeshadow as dark as a starless sky, but he still forces himself to meet Roman’s eyes.

“I’ll admit, you’ve treated me horribly in the past,” Virgil starts tentatively, “and I won’t lie and say that your words didn’t hurt me. I didn’t want to be the bad guy. But I—”

Virgil words catch, as if a dam had suddenly slammed down. But with another wobbly breath, he continues.

“You weren’t the only person who was being an asshole,” Virgil admits, hugging himself tightly, like he might drift away if he loosened his grip even slightly, “I called you names, too. I… I made your job a lot harder than it had to be. I purposely sabotaged your plans instead of just… communicating with you.”

“We didn’t make it easy,” Roman defends, taking a step towards Virgil, but not moving any further when he notices Virgil flinch at the movement, “I never gave you any chance to say your piece, and when you did attempt to voice your concerns, I brushed you off. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“I just… I don’t know what you guys want from me,” Virgil breathes, his voice nearly a whimper, “At least before, I knew where we stood. I knew what boundaries I could push, and what lines I couldn’t cross. But now Patton runs up to hug me whenever he sees me, and Logan asks me about the audiobooks I’ve been listening to, and you—”

Another breath.

“You’ve been acting weird!” Virgil cries, “You keep seeking me out, almost like you want something from me. But whatever I do just isn’t enough for you, because you always end up sulking off like I had somehow insulted you. I’ve been trying so hard to be nicer. I’ve even held back on the name calling and insults, but obviously I must still be doing something wrong! And I—”

Virgil chokes, as if emotion is clogged in his throat, and his face crumbles in mortification as his eyes well with tears.

“What do you want from me!?”

Roman watches helplessly as the tears start to fall, Virgil frantically wiping at his eyes and struggling to get his breathing back under control. This isn’t how Roman had wanted this interaction to go at all. It was the last thing he wanted. He had spent all this time trying to get Virgil to laugh, to feel happy in his presence. And yet, all Roman had managed to do was make him cry. If Virgil’s laugh is like warm sunlight, then his tears are like a blizzard, battering him and driving a chill into his bones that leaves him feeling numb and hopeless. 

Roman is bombarded with another wave of memories as frigid and painful as a hailstorm, echoes of past interactions between the two, and Roman realizes with a start that Virgil is right. He has been holding back on the insults. In fact, Roman can’t recall a single jab thrown at him since his conversation with Logan and Virgil about the livestream. And that was weeks ago.

But, to Roman’s horror, he can remember several times he had insulted Virgil. He had meant to be teasing, and he had expected a similar jab in turn, but Virgil had just taken them silently. As if… accepting them as the truth.

What have I done?

Roman remains frozen in place, silent and useless, as Virgil attempts to rein in his tears, black streaks of eyeshadow trailing down his cheeks like rain on a windowsill. At the time it matters most, Roman has no idea what to say. So instead, he does what he does best, and acts impulsively.

He grabs Virgil, who had started shaking from barely repressed sobs, and pulls him into his arms.

Virgil tenses up, instinctively pulling away as if the gentle gesture is an attack, and Roman despairs at how he could have possibly messed up so horribly for Virgil’s first instinct when Roman grabs him is to expect pain. Roman braces himself for an attack, ready for any punches Virgil will throw at him. He deserves it. 

Instead, Virgil, who Roman has never seen display any sign of vulnerability, collapses in his arms, hands clutching the back of Roman’s shirt.

And he wails.

The sound is so devastating that it brings Roman to tears. He didn’t think Virgil was capable of making such a sound. He is tough, not allowing the slightest bit of hurt or weakness to show on his features. His expression is constantly guarded, not giving the slightest indication of his true intentions. When the two were enemies, Anxiety’s nonchalance frustrated Roman to no end, because it hinted at Anxiety knowing something he didn’t.

The shield is down now, Virgil lacking the strength to pick it back up as his body is wracked with sobs. Roman, still feeling hopelessly lost, eases the two of them back onto the couch, muttering soothing reassurances that feel futile against Virgil’s anguish, like a few meager sticks attempting to block a torrential river. But somehow, Roman must have offered some form of comfort to the Anxious Side, because Virgil’s sobs eventually subside. Roman wonders if Virgil will push him away, but he makes no effort to move, so the two remain still and quiet in each other’s arms, the silence only occasionally punctuated with a wet sniff. The silence is uncomfortable for Roman, who is so used to filling every moment with noise, but he allows it to linger. For Virgil’s sake. 

After a few minutes, Virgil finally speaks.

“So, uh… Just to clarify. You… You don’t hate me?”

Roman’s heart breaks all over again.

“No. Of course not,” Roman declares firmly.

“...Really?”

Roman tightens his grip around Virgil, a few stray tears falling.

“Really.”

He states it like a promise, one he intends to keep until his dying breath.

“...Okay.”

Virgil’s voice is hesitant, lacking conviction, and Roman knows that Virgil doesn’t quite believe him. But that’s okay, because Roman will be sure to dedicate his every moment to proving he is a man of his word. It will take time, but Roman is nothing if not determined. 

After another few moments, Virgil begins to pull away. Roman lets him. 

“So… We’re cool?” Virgil asks.

“Cool as cucumbers,” Roman reaffirms, giving Virgil a watery smile. 

Virgil chuckles shakily, and Roman’s chest does a funny little flip. Virgil scoops his phone from where he flung it onto the floor, then plops back onto the couch. 

“So… Did you need me for anything?”

Virgil’s expression is tentative, remnants of suspicion still clinging to him like icicles after a winter storm, but he is giving Roman a chance. If Roman wants to try to make Virgil laugh, now would be the perfect opportunity.

But he looks exhausted. Their emotional conversation had likely taken a toll on the introverted Side. Even though Virgil indicated that he is willing to speak with Roman for a bit longer, Roman knows that a prolonged conversation is probably the last thing Virgil needs right now.

“No, I’m alright,” Roman says, “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Get some sleep, Ebenezer Snooze. Can’t have Thomas saying something embarrassing to a cashier at Starbucks, right? We’ll need you to help keep us in check, so you need to be well-rested.”

Virgil’s lips quirk, a ghost of a smile. While it’s far from the laughter Roman craves, it still fills him with a great amount of pride, because for the first time it’s truly meant for him. His heart flutters again, like a butterfly prepared to take flight, and he feels content. He waves farewell, turning to return to his room upstairs. 

Except apparently, the couch has a vendetta against him. In a flash of pain and déjà vu, Roman’s leg catches the side of the couch, and he goes crashing down like a baby deer on unsteady legs. 

He groans, slowly pushing himself up, when he hears a familiar sound.

“Pfft—!”

He whips towards Virgil, who has a hand covering his mouth.

“S-sorry,” Virgil says, his body shaking with repressed laughter, “You okay?”

Roman doesn’t know what expression he makes, but it must be hilarious, because Virgil can no longer contain his laughter. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Roman suddenly doesn’t feel so embarrassed anymore. In fact, he feels more like he’s flying on soft, puffy clouds.

“Your—hehe —your face!” Virgil squeaks through giggles.

Still laughing through his poor attempts to conceal it, Virgil kneels down to help Roman up.

“I’m sorry—hehehe—You’re not hurt, right?”

Something akin to concern suddenly flashes across Virgil’s features, and Roman momentarily panics, fearing that Virgil may stop laughing. He stumbles to his feet in a rush, determined to soothe Virgil’s worries before they can completely snuff out his joy.

“I’m okay! Really! Just a silly fall, no harm done.”

Despite his reassurances, Virgil’s laughter does subside, and Roman feels like a general watching his army get swept by enemy forces.

“I still shouldn’t have laughed. And after that whole conversation about being nicer to each other—”

“Virgil, truly, it’s okay,” Roman insists, “I’m tougher than I look, I can handle some heckling.”

Then, Roman suddenly remembers the past few minutes, where Virgil was an absolute mess in his arms because of awful things Roman had said. His eyes widen as he realizes his error, and he quickly backtracks.

“N-not that you aren’t tough for feeling upset when I said mean things to you! Anyone would feel upset—I mean—”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Princey!” Virgil interrupts, pressing a hand to Roman’s mouth to stop him from talking, and Roman goes incredibly still at the contact, “I know you didn’t mean it like that. And…”

Virgil’s expression softens, suddenly shy as he retracts his hand.

“I don’t mind if you call me those nicknames, or make jokes at my expense. I know now that you don’t really mean them. And…”

He cringes, as if already regretting the words he plans to say.

“I kinda… like the banter. It’s fun. Y-y’know, when you don’t actually mean any of it.”

Virgil’s cheeks are tinted pink. It’s absolutely adorable.

“Very well then, Stormcloud,” Roman says with a smile, “I look forward to it.”

Virgil appears momentarily stunned, his cheeks darkening, before he turns away in an embarrassed huff.

“Well, don’t let it keep you up at night, Mr. Bold and Brash,” Virgil grumbles, turning his attention back to his phone.

Roman grins, leaving Virgil to his scrolling, and he’s pleased to note that Virgil’s hands are no longer shaking.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman blinks bleary eyes as he stares at what must be the five hundredth joke article he’s visited this month. His eyes dart to the time on the corner of his screen. 3 AM glares at him condescendingly. 

But he can’t sleep yet. He’s so close to a breakthrough. He knows he is. He just needs to push on a little longer.

Now that he and Virgil have finally resolved things, Virgil is sure to be more receptive to his jokes. Roman now understands that what he had interpreted as stubbornness and judgment before was actually Virgil’s guard raised in preparation for an insult or deprecating joke. 

Roman blinks rapidly at the memory, forcing away something other than exhaustion, and takes a deep breath to steady himself. 

They’re okay now. While Virgil may not be completely comfortable around Roman, he is willing to listen and give him a chance. 

But that presents another problem.

Roman had previously believed that the problem was the nature of the jokes themselves, when it actually was his and Virgil’s strained relationship. Not realizing that, Roman had experimented with different types of jokes and narrowed his repertoire down to several categories, eliminating types of jokes that Virgil didn’t seem receptive to. Now, after months of work, Roman is back to square one. 

It’s good to have more options, and from a logical standpoint, this development is entirely beneficial. But as an artist, Roman can’t help but feel a little frustrated at a month’s worth of work entirely down the chute. 

But hey, it wasn’t all for nothing. Roman knows so many jokes off the top of his head that he could fill several books. If he plans correctly, he can probably get in several jokes with each interaction he has with Virgil from now on. And surely it can’t take too long to narrow down Virgil’s favorite flavor of humor? 

Roman pulls up a document containing all of the jokes he had discovered in his research. It goes on for hundreds of pages, and the font is tiny. 

Reasonably, if Roman is able to get in three to four jokes per conversation, and he typically sees Virgil around two times per day, then it will only take Roman…

Roman summons a calculator to quickly do the math. He winces. That’s a lot of digits…

Okay, so maybe he should at least try to narrow it down a bit. 

Groaning, Roman rises from his desk and slumps to his bed. From his bedside table, he snatches a notebook covered in sparkles and with the words “Operation: Laugh Track” tastefully adorned on the cover. It’s almost completely filled with notes in Roman’s neat, curly handwriting, the text shimmering in red, sparkly ink. While Roman has a separate document on his computer where he keeps his growing supply of jokes, this notebook is dedicated to detailing Virgil’s reactions and speculating different methods of approach. 

Roman sighs, noting glumly that most of the notebook’s contents are now completely useless, before turning to the very first page. 

Compared to his later notes, the first few pages were written in a rush, the handwriting sloppy and the ink smearing in several places. Roman’s face heats as he remembers the breakfast that started it all, when he had first heard Virgil laugh. Roman had been so flustered that his mind could barely keep up, and he had opened the first notebook he could get his hands on and poured his heart out, like a poet starstruck by his first love. 

As such, the first few pages were mostly an… embarrassingly detailed recollection of Virgil’s laughter: the way his eyes shone, the way he needed to clutch the table to keep himself upright, the way his lips parted into such a huge, happy smile…

Roman’s face burns hotter, and he quickly flips through a few more pages. Eventually, the text becomes slightly neater, as Roman had finally been able to collect himself. It details Roman’s determination to recreate the laughter, and several potential plans. Roman scans over a small section titled “Types of Jokes Virgil Might Like”.

“Dark Humor” is the first bullet point on the list, immediately followed by “Puns”. Roman had decided to focus on the latter, as puns were easier to find online and quicker to tell, allowing Roman to experiment with different jokes faster. Plus, Virgil usually responds positively to Patton’s puns, so Roman had concluded that corny humor was still his best option. 

Roman pauses, then rapidly flips back to the end of the book to a blank page, scrawling the words “Things That Make Virgil Laugh”.

Compared to the other Sides (sans Logan, perhaps), Virgil is still very subdued when it comes to expressing emotion. However, ever since they had made a greater effort to include him, Virgil has opened up significantly. Smiles came more easily, and the ever-elusive laughter was slightly less elusive. In fact, Roman can recall several occasions that have produced giggles from the normally sullen emo.

For the first item on the list, Roman writes “Patton’s Puns”. While they don’t always make Virgil laugh, they consistently produce smiles, sometimes followed by an appreciative chuckle. Not quite the result Roman is looking for, but it’s a promising start.

The next item is “Logan’s Deadpan”. This is a bit more abstract, and not nearly as consistent as Patton’s jokes, but Roman can recall several occasions where a dry comment from Logan made Virgil laugh. Indeed, several of these moments made Virgil laugh even harder than Patton’s puns. This is closer to the result that Roman wants.

However, this approach presents more obstacles. Roman isn’t exactly sure why Logan’s comments make Virgil laugh, or what about the delivery is so humorous in Virgil’s eyes. He also doubts that he would be able to recreate Logan’s humor, given how Roman operates in grand displays, while Logan is not one for dramatics. 

But it is still good to lay out his options, so Roman simply adds a question mark and moves on.

Something else that makes Virgil laugh…

Well, there is something that definitely created the result Roman wanted. It is the exact moment that incited Roman’s fervent plunge into comedy in the first place. The very first moment Roman had heard Virgil laugh.

Roman had fallen on his face.

Roman groans, his bruised hip throbbing slightly at the memory. His pride still hasn’t fully recovered since that incident. He has an image to maintain, after all, and the visage of a gallant prince is slightly skewed when said prince is on the floor. The wound had also reopened when he fell again this afternoon, and although Virgil had attempted to hide his laughter this time, the damage was already done. 

Feeling slightly miffed at recalling such a humiliating moment, Roman decides to finally call it a night. He won’t be able to focus on his work when he’s in a bad mood. He returns the notebook to his nightstand, snapping his fingers to change into pajamas as he crawls into the silk covers. Another snap, and the lights turn off with a soft click. Roman sighs, unable to completely disperse the embarrassing memories. But accompanying the memories is the sound of Virgil’s laughter, ringing in his ears like twinkling bells, and Roman is suddenly much more reluctant to part with them. 

Roman’s pride may have taken a heavy blow, but if it made Virgil laugh so beautifully, maybe it wasn’t all so bad…

Roman’s eyes fly open, and he shoots to a sitting position, his exhausted limbs crying in protest. He figured it out. A sure-fire way to make Virgil laugh, and to make him laugh hard. Best of all, it wasn’t something the other Sides did that Roman had to attempt to recreate. It was something Roman had done all on his own. 

Of course! The solution is so simple! How had Roman not thought of it before?

Eager to write down the idea before it can escape, he grabs the notebook and once again begins to write. Sleep can wait a little bit longer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman sits restlessly on his bed. He hadn’t been able to sleep, scribbling frantically in his notebook until the sun peeked over the horizon. Despite the exhaustion that had seeped into his bones, Roman had risen from his bed and carried out his morning routine, dressed and ready to tackle the day before another soul had even stirred. 

Patton usually calls all the Sides to breakfast at around 9 o’clock, which meant that Roman had several hours to kill before he could attempt his new plan. Those hours were filled with a sad attempt at researching more jokes and several discarded sketches. Eventually, Roman gave up on trying to distract himself, too excited to focus on anything.

Finally, Roman hears Patton’s familiar voice, and he shoots up like a dog rushing to enthusiastically greet their owner. Moving as quickly as he can without outright running, he stumbles his way downstairs. He is delighted to see that Virgil is with the other Sides in the kitchen, grumbling about waking up so early. 

“Good morning, everyone!” Roman exclaims.

The greeting does its purpose. Everyone gives him their attention, including Virgil. Perfect.

Roman strides forward in long, graceful steps, a perfect antithesis to the event about to occur. As Roman rambles nonsense about how delicious breakfast smells, he angles his strides so that his leg catches the couch on his way over, similarly to his previous blunders. This time, however, Roman is prepared, and he slightly angles his fall so that the impact doesn’t quite hurt as much. Holding his breath and forcing his muscles to relax, he collides with the floor with a loud bang! To further sell the act, Roman groans, as if in pain.

And it works.

After a moment of silence, he hears Virgil snort involuntarily, then start to giggle, and before long he is laughing hysterically. Patton lightly scolds him, hands on his hips, and Roman resists the urge to tell Patton to cut it out. Virgil smiles apologetically, before rising from his seat, and Roman is momentarily terrified that he’s leaving, carrying his gorgeous laughter elsewhere. 

Instead, he crouches down beside Roman and offers him a hand. Roman stares at it for a second, as if he has never seen a hand before in his life, before accepting it. 

In the few seconds of contact they share, Roman is acutely aware of how warm Virgil’s hand is. He feels the rough texture of subtle calluses on Virgil’s fingers, and he wonders what kind of hobby the Side partakes in to achieve those calluses. Does he play an instrument? Does he create art? Would he be bothered at all if Roman were to join him—

Virgil pulls Roman to his feet, and Roman is stunned once again because holy shit Virgil is strong, and then Virgil lets go of his hand and walks back to his seat in the kitchen, and Roman feels cold.

“Are you alright, Roman?”

Roman is startled out of his stupor by Logan’s voice, and when he returns his attention to the table, he sees that all three other Sides are looking at him with various degrees of concern. 

“You didn’t hit your head or anything, right?” Patton asks, walking over to check Roman’s head for bumps and bruises.

“Oh shit, you don’t have a concussion, do you?” Virgil suddenly speaks up, joining Patton beside Roman, “They don’t seem like a big deal, but I’ve heard that they can really mess you up. You don’t feel dizzy, right? Wait, there’s a thing that happens to your pupils if you’re concussed, let me grab my phone–”

Virgil rushes to turn on the light on his phone, his previously carefree demeanor suddenly reverting to a familiar anxiety. This tirade is very familiar to Roman, as Virgil would often lose himself in a hastily-rambled list of what could go wrong in any situation. When he was Anxiety, it would come out condescending, a silent reprimand for not thinking of all the potential dangers in the first place. Since then, Virgil has worked hard to soften his tone, fighting against the instinct that someone would interrupt or dismiss his arguments. And the other Sides have put in effort as well, giving Virgil room to say his piece and taking it into consideration, even if his conclusions are slightly exaggerated. 

Still, some of that frustration had always lingered for Roman. He knew that Virgil just wanted to keep them safe, and that he wasn’t trying to ruin Roman’s ideas. But he still couldn’t help but be irked, and slightly hurt, when someone had only negative things to say about something he worked so hard on. 

But this is different. Virgil isn’t tearing down Roman’s creative pursuits, exposing every flaw like a judge on a cooking TV show; he’s listing all of the possible negative symptoms that Roman could be suffering, occasionally glancing at Logan as if hoping the Logical Side will tell him how to defeat each and every one of them. 

Virgil is feeling anxious for him.

As Virgil attempts to fuss over him, gently held back by Patton while Logan kindly debunks his reasons for concern, Roman realizes that he really likes seeing Virgil worried for him, seeing Virgil care about him.

If Roman wasn’t convinced to go through with his plan before, he certainly is now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman proceeds with his plan slowly, only tripping once every few days, and spreading out the incidents irregularly so as to prevent a pattern from emerging. He even practices stage-falling in his own room, although he fears that Virgil, who is always meticulous when it comes to Thomas’ stage performances (specifically the smaller details that could leave room for error, which would result in “complete humiliation”), would recognize his fall as unnatural. So while Roman does slightly alter his falls to prevent some pain, he still falls hard enough that small splatters of bruises trail along his hip and arm. 

But Roman doesn’t care how much it hurts. He would endure falls five times as painful if it made Virgil laugh harder. But nevertheless, Roman’s plan works perfectly. Every time he would fall, without fail, Virgil would laugh. Roman would punctuate his fall with groans, perhaps a swear for colorful effect, and quickly swivel towards Virgil. He would pretend to glare at Virgil making fun of his expense, but it was really just an excuse to look at Virgil as he laughed, to soak in his beautiful giggles and to watch as his face lights up like a firefly. A light fluttering in his chest and a warm happiness would numb any pain Roman was feeling.

(And Roman may have been imagining it, but sometimes, when Roman’s fall is particularly funny, Virgil’s eyeshadow seems to sparkle in the light. He plans to confront Virgil about it later, but for now he’s content.)

Most of the time, Patton would rush to his aid, chiding Virgil for his behavior as he helps Roman to his feet. Logan’s reaction would always be much more subdued, a quirk of the lips or a sparkle in his eye the only indication of his amusement (although by Logan’s standards, he might as well be laughing just as hard as Virgil). 

However, the best days are when Virgil comes over to help him. 

He would clasp Roman’s hand for only a moment, giving Roman barely enough time to appreciate the slightly rough calluses on Virgil’s hand, which Roman has since learned is from several different hobbies he occasionally dabbles in, including playing the guitar and drawing. The warmth would envelop Roman’s hand, like he was warming numb fingers before a crackling fireplace, and spread from that one point of contact to all over his body. Then Roman would be pulled to his feet, and even after numerous falls, Virgil’s strength surprises him every time. Perhaps he could ask Virgil to accompany him on one of his adventures? He wonders how Virgil would appear decked in armor and with a sword in hand, ready to protect and defend…

Then it would be over, often accompanied by a quick examination of his person to ensure that he is unharmed, and a pat on the back if Roman is particularly lucky that day. And Roman would feel cold, like a window had suddenly blown open, beckoning frigid air into his once-warm home that would leave him shivering. 

If Roman were to describe his predicament to Logan, to explain the rush of euphoria he experienced every time Virgil laughed, followed by a withdrawal that felt more devastating every time it occurr, Logan would likely claim that he’s developed an addiction of some kind. Roman wouldn’t be able to dispute it.

But it’s alright, because Roman never has to suffer for long. So what if he has to fall slightly more often? So what if not a day goes by where Roman experiences a dramatic tumble? So what Roman’s left side is almost entirely covered in bruises, like a canvas attacked in shades of purple and brown? Virgil is still laughing, and that’s enough. In fact, it’s perfect. Roman will gladly paint his body in bruises if it makes Virgil smile.

Roman should have known better. All good things eventually come to an end.

Things were going so well. Too well. Roman has seen enough theater to know that everything comes crashing down in the second half of the performance. Perhaps his hubris is to blame, or maybe he couldn’t see the warning signs through the rosy haze Virgil’s laughter always managed to produce. He had been so warm, so happy basking in Virgil’s sunlight, that he couldn’t see the clouds creeping along the horizon until they had completely blocked out the sun. 

And once again, Roman is left fumbling, diving to recover something he didn’t realize had slipped through his fingers.

Virgil stops laughing when he falls. 

He doesn’t stop all at once. The change is subtle at first, Virgil’s face still contorted in laughter as he helps Roman to his feet, but his laughter is slightly quieter, or he’s able to stop sooner. Then, it diminishes to a small chuckle, no longer so hard to control. Soon, Roman’s clumsiness only produces a teasing smirk, but Virgil’s eyes are no longer crinkled and shining from unrestrained laughter, instead reflecting confusion and concern. He’s starting to notice the pattern.

This will not do.

A joke loses its humor when repeated one too many times, and Roman knows this all too well. He has progressed well beyond the rule of threes, to where Roman’s tumbles are almost expected from the others. The novelty has worn off, leaving only worry regarding Roman’s personal coordination. 

Roman tries not to panic. He had finally found a way to consistently make Virgil laugh, and he honestly doesn’t know what he would do if he lost that laughter forever. Patton’s puns don’t pack the same punch without Patton’s delivery, and Logan’s unorthodox sense of humor is nearly impossible for Roman to replicate. This is his only option.

Okay, so if he can’t change the punchline… maybe he can change how it’s delivered?

Yes, that could work. Maybe he could flail his arms a bit, like those inflatables often found at car dealerships. He could even use a bit of creative magic to suspend himself in the air for a second longer, like a cartoon character who has yet to realize they had sprinted straight off a cliff. A harder fall could also accentuate the comedy. That shouldn’t be too difficult to pull off. It might hurt a bit more, but he couldn’t care less.

Roman nods to himself, feeling a bit better at having a new course of action. He faintly hears Patton calling everyone for dinner, and steels himself for his performance. 

Show time. 

Roman exits his room, and he’s surprised to see Virgil leaving his own at the same time. Virgil smiles when he sees him, saluting with two fingers. Butterflies flutter around in circles in Roman’s stomach, but he manages a smile and a wave of his own.

They walk down the stairs together, exchanging small-talk and nicknames, just in time to see Patton place a steaming pot at the center of the kitchen table. Logan is assisting with setting the table. 

As Roman and Virgil pass through the living room to the kitchen, Roman spots a familiar couch, and sees the opportunity to put his plan into action. He subtly moves towards the couch, bumping his hip against it at such an angle that he would fall forward. Roman relaxes his limbs, and after weeks of falling in this manner, he no longer feels the instinctual urge to throw his hands out to catch himself. As he falls, he manifests creative energy within his body, ready to be released in a thunderous smack! once he collides with the floor.

Except the collision never comes. 

Instead, Roman falls into something else, and he feels two arms quickly wrap around and support him. Roman’s eyes fly open in surprise, worried that he may have accidentally fallen into someone, before involuntarily gasping.

Virgil’s face is hovering inches from his own. 

Virgil had somehow whipped around and caught him. His arms are around Roman’s waist, holding him suspended above the ground like one would dip a partner during a romantic dance. His arms are so warm and strong and protective and it’s a good thing he’s holding Roman, because suddenly his knees feel weak with the desire to swoon. Virgil is looking deep into his eyes, his face a lovely shade of red and very close to Roman’s.

Virgil hastily manhandles Roman to his feet, once again astounding Roman with his unexpected strength, then awkwardly takes a step backwards, putting some distance between the two that Roman desperately wishes to close.

“S-sorry, didn’t mean to grab you like that,” Virgil stutters, and Roman wants to tell him that he can grab him as much as he’d like, “You were just suddenly falling and—jeez, Roman, be careful! That’s, like, the fifth time this week!”

“Virgil’s right, Roman,” Logan says, causing Roman to whip towards the table. To be quite honest, Roman had completely forgotten about the other two Sides. Both Patton and Logan look concerned, although there is another emotion hidden in their features that Roman is unable to identify.

“You’ve been awfully clumsy recently, Ro,” Patton adds, and the unidentifiable emotion vanishes, “Not that that’s a bad thing, but… You didn’t hurt your legs recently on one of your adventures, right?”

“No!” Roman is quick to reassure, flailing his hands, “I promise, I’m okay. I’ve just been a bit clumsier than usual. It’s that damn couch, it has a grudge against me, I’m telling you! It’s proving itself to be my most difficult adversary yet!”

Virgil smiles slightly at the joke, but Logan takes his words at face value. 

“Well, that is something we can easily remedy. Perhaps we could move the couch elsewhere, or replace it with a smaller—”

“You don’t have to do that!” Roman interrupts, suddenly feeling oddly protective over a piece of furniture that had helped him make Virgil laugh so many times, “I was joking, it’s really just me being clumsy. It’s not because of the couch.”

The tension is back, the others looking even more worried than before, and Roman feels like he’s been cornered. 

“It’s not like you to be so clumsy, Roman,” Patton says, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Roman smiles in what he hopes is in a reassuring manner.

“I’m okay, really—”

Virgil shoots to his feet, suddenly looking incredibly panicked. 

“You didn’t hit your head recently, did you!?”

Roman is momentarily taken aback, and he suddenly feels slightly overwhelmed at Virgil looking at him with such intense worry. He had hoped they wouldn’t return to this subject.

“N-no, I didn’t hit—”

“Concussions can lead to dizziness, or a lack of coordination, right Logan?” Virgil presses on, ignoring Roman’s words completely, “He fell really hard over a month ago, right? Before breakfast?”

Logan nods, appearing deep in thought.

“That’s true, although he didn’t show any of the usual symptoms of a concussion afterwards. His consistent clumsiness started more recently.”

Logan turns to Roman.

“I know you said you weren’t injured recently on your adventures, but are you sure you haven’t been hit on the head by one of your, uh, “assailants”?”

Roman flounders helplessly, unsure how to exactly disprove Logan’s hypothesis. The truth of the matter is, Roman hasn’t ventured into the Imagination in a while, too occupied with researching jokes to make Virgil laugh. But he can’t say that. He would never live the humiliation down.

Patton moves as if to approach him, and Roman decides to put an end to the conversation before it can escalate any further. 

“Darlings, I promise you that I’m fine! Look, the delicious dinner Patton worked so hard to prepare is getting cold. Let’s talk about this another time.”

Logan narrows his eyes, recognizing that Roman is deflecting his questions, but eventually sighs and takes a seat at the table. Seeing Logan yield, Patton and Virgil also reluctantly sit down, but Virgil’s eyes follow Roman as he walks over.

“Well, if you’re sure, kiddo,” Patton relents, “but you’ll tell us if something is wrong, right?”

“Of course!” Roman grins, his steps quickening as he makes his way to his spot at the table, an escape from the uncomfortable topic in sight, “Now, what’s for dinner–”

One moment, Roman is reaching for his chair, and the next he is feeling a familiar vertigo as he lurches backwards, his feet slipping out beneath him with a piercing squeak! Roman doesn’t even have a moment to comprehend what just happened before he hears a loud crack! 

His world blurs, a rush of adrenaline struggling to catch up with the situation. He blinks open his eyes, his surroundings swirl around him like he’s looking through a kaleidoscope, and he can’t quite seem to focus on anything. Even his thoughts feel slower than usual as he tries to figure out what just happened. 

He’s on the ground. He… fell? What could he have tripped on? He doesn’t think he bumped into any of the chairs. But Roman is having a hard time reaching any concrete conclusions, like his thoughts are a bit more slippery than usual, constantly squirming from his grasp like fish desperate to return to their ocean home. He feels dizzy and almost nauseous, a feeling similar to the drop of a rollercoaster, except it isn’t going away. In fact, it seems to be getting worse. Soon, it is joined by a dull, repetitive throb, like someone is using his skull for drum practice.

He sees… faces above him. His friends, although it takes a bit of effort to remember their names. Patton looks incredibly distressed, tears beginning to form in his eyes, as he fusses over Roman but doesn’t quite touch him. Logan grabs Patton by the shoulder to gain his attention, and speaks to Patton in a commanding voice. Roman is struggling to comprehend the words they’re saying, but Patton seems to have no trouble, because he nods shakily and leaves the kitchen. And Virgil…

Virgil.

Virgil’s face is deathly pale, and he looks shell-shocked as he simply stares at Roman. He presses his hand gently to Roman’s temple, and Roman has enough clarity to hopefully anticipate Virgil’s warm hand cradling his head. Instead, the touch is answered by an intense pain in Roman’s temple, and he gasps in surprise. Virgil doesn’t seem to hear him, and he withdraws his hand, the blood draining completely from his face. 

The tip of Virgil’s fingers are red. That’s… that’s blood. Is Virgil bleeding? Did he hurt himself?

Roman struggles to make the connection, his head throbbing more intensely, as if trying to resist his efforts.

Virgil touched… his head. There’s blood on his head. He’s… bleeding? 

Logan grabs Virgil’s arm and shakes him, saying something urgently. Virgil doesn’t respond, completely fixated on his bloody fingers. Logan shakes him harder, and Virgil flinches violently, looking like he’s going to be sick. 

Through the dizziness and nausea, regret pierces through his thoughts like an arrow. He doesn’t want Virgil to feel sad. Why isn’t he laughing? Roman had fallen, right? Shouldn’t Virgil be laughing?

Roman tries to raise his hand to cup Virgil’s face, but his limbs feel incredibly weak. All he manages is a soft brush along his cheek.

“Why… not laugh…?” Roman attempts to speak, but his words slur like he’s several glasses deep into a bottle of wine.

Virgil expression shifts, flickering through several emotions so quickly that Roman’s frustratingly slow brain can’t keep up, until it returns to a devastating fear. If Roman’s arms didn’t weigh five hundred pounds, he would have hit himself for causing that expression. Luckily, his head is doing a fine job on that front, pain and nausea battling for dominance.

Roman feels his eyes closing on their own, and despite Logan and Virgil shaking him and calling a name that he realizes belatedly is his own, he slips into unconsciousness. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roman wakes slowly, bleary eyes blinking away a dreamless sleep. The first sensation he feels is a throbbing, familiar pain pounding away in his skull. He raises a hand to touch the area the pain is coming from, and his fingers meet bandages. 

Groaning, he pushes himself to a sitting position, slowly gaining his bearings. Walls decorated in velvet reds, a scattering of canvases and art supplies, and numerous twinkling fairy lights confirm that Roman is currently in his room, more specifically in his bed. Roman notices an additional blanket had been added to his silk covers, a baby-blue, hand-knitted affair with a slightly-skewed pattern of hearts. Roman also counts several additional pillows added to his already impressive collection, fluffed and arranged around him like a nest. 

Roman smiles. Patton may be the self-proclaimed “dad” Side in the Mindscape, but he sure acts like a mother hen. 

Roman moves to sit up further, but he meets resistance. Something heavy is resting on his legs. Puzzled, Roman looks down to where the weight lies, wondering if Patton had gone against Logan’s advice and adopted a pet of some kind. It takes a while to discern the shape, given the dimness of the lights, but once his vision clears, it doesn’t take long to recognize. Roman lets out an involuntary yelp, flinching back in surprise.

Virgil is kneeling at Roman’s bedside, head nestled between his arms and softly snoring. Despite Roman’s violent reaction, he doesn’t stir. 

Roman’s headache suddenly feels far less important as he stares unabashedly at the sleeping emo. What is Virgil doing in his room? How long must he have been waiting there by his bedside for him to fall asleep in that position? And, most importantly, why?

Roman’s head throbs again, and he finally makes the connection between his pain, the bandages, and Virgil’s bedside nap. He was injured, and given how he was wrapped in bandages and moved to his bed, it must have been somewhat serious. But it’s difficult to think through his headache, and Roman grits his teeth in frustration. 

Before he can ponder further, his bedroom door opens to reveal Logan and Patton, the latter holding a tray of food. Upon noticing that he’s awake, they both perk up. 

“Kiddo! Oh my gosh, you’re okay!” Patton exclaims, although his voice is much lower than Roman expected, so it comes out like a stage-whisper. He rushes to Roman’s side, placing the tray on the bedside table.

“I made you some soup,” Patton says, his voice even softer now as he kneels next to Roman, “I know you aren’t technically “sick”, but hopefully it’ll help you feel a bit better.”

“Thanks,” Roman says gratefully, carefully maneuvering the tray onto his lap and sipping a spoonful of soup. It’s delicious, spreading a warmth that almost seems to chase away the pain. 

“I am glad to see that you are alright,” Logan says, his voice also low and gentle, “We were all very worried about you.”

He frowns slightly, and his next words are slow and tentative, as if he’s carefully choosing what to say.

“I know you must not be feeling your best right now, and if you would prefer, we could save this conversation for another time. With that being said, would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Roman doesn’t answer right away. It’s difficult to think through the pain, and he is still having trouble remembering how he hurt himself. Still, Roman is not one to back away from a challenge, so he nods. 

“Alright, thank you. And we can stop at any time if it’s too overwhelming, okay?”

Roman nods again, feeling slightly unnerved. He has no idea what Logan wants to ask him, but it must be serious, given both his and Patton’s expressions.

Logan takes a deep breath, then asks the first question. 

“What is your name?”

It takes a while for Roman to process the question, because it was honestly the last thing he expected Logan to ask. His name? Why is Logan asking if he knows his name? Of course he knows his name! Roman wants to ask why Logan would ask something so obvious, but he stops, seeing the grave look on Logan’s face. This question must be important, even if Roman doesn’t yet realize why, so he decides to table his curiosity for now.

“My name is Roman.”

Despite the simplicity of the question, as well as the obvious nature of the answer, Logan’s shoulders relax. He seems incredibly relieved, like Roman just told him that a dangerous medical operation was successful, rather than just saying his own name. 

Logan hesitates again at the second question, but presses on.

“Do you know… our names?”

Another curve ball. Roman feels even more bewildered, but continues to humor Logan. 

“You’re Logan, and he’s Patton. The guy sleeping beside my bed–” Roman’s words stutter when he momentarily turns his attention back to Virgil, and he hopes that the dim lights are enough to hide his blush, “–is Virgil.”

Logan smiles widely, like how a teacher would praise a student correctly solving a difficult math problem. 

“Good. That’s very good.”

Roman can no longer hold back his overwhelming curiosity, and so he gives in and voices his confusion.

“Why are you asking me these things?”

Logan’s smile vanishes, and Patton frowns with concern. 

“Do you… not remember?” Logan asks slowly.

Roman’s head throbs, as if trying to answer the question for him, and Roman hisses in pain. The memories are still very fuzzy, like they’re hidden behind thick glass.

“Bits and pieces,” Roman answers honestly, “I’m assuming I hit my head, right?”

Logan nods.

“A few days ago, you slipped on some water that had spilled onto the kitchen floor. You fell and hit your head on the tiles. There was some minor bleeding, but the injury wasn’t too severe. We still decided to disinfect and bandage the wound to prevent infection.”

Roman nods along, his memory of the event slowly returning. 

“While the cut on your head wasn’t serious,” Logan continues, “you did hit your head rather hard against the floor. You seemed to experience some difficulty focusing after you fell, so we concluded that you may have experienced a concussion. Rather ironic, given what we had been conversing about right before that very moment.”

Right, the dinner. Roman remembers them pressing him about his increased clumsiness, to which he managed to deflect their questions. He had then rushed to his own seat, eager to escape their interrogation. 

It had all happened so fast. But Roman can remember the moment he fell, the sound of his head banging against the tiles, and the dizziness and nausea that followed.

“Yeah, I think I remember,” Roman says.

“That’s good,” Logan says, looking relieved, “One thing that we were most worried about was possible amnesia, which can sometimes accompany a concussion. That’s why I asked you those questions. I wanted to confirm that you didn’t suffer any memory loss.”

Roman nods, finally understanding.

“I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything. My head is killing me, but otherwise I feel alright.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Logan smiles, “and I’m sorry to hear that you’re still experiencing some pain. I suspected as much, since headaches are a very common symptom of head trauma, so we have made a greater effort to keep our voices low. We can also provide you with some pain killers, if that would help?”

Roman nods earnestly, eager for even a momentary respite from the pain. At his response, Patton smiles and leaves the room to fetch the medicine.

“While Patton takes care of that,” Logan says, “would you mind if I asked a few more general questions? While I’m very pleased that you remember your identity, as well as ours, it would be good to ensure that you haven’t forgotten anything else.”

With Roman’s approval, Logan begins asking another series of questions, asking for general facts like the year, or which state they live in, or the current U.S. president. He then shifts to more recent, significant events, like what Roman gifted Patton for his most recent birthday, or the most recent video they filmed together, or the day that Virgil revealed his name. 

Once Virgil is mentioned, Roman gathers the courage to ask what’s been on his mind since he woke up.

“How… How long has he…”

Patton, who had returned with the medicine during Logan’s questioning, follows his gaze to Virgil’s sleeping form, and he smiles.

“He was beside himself with worry.” Patton explains, “We tried to get him to sleep in his own room, but when I came to check on you in the middle of the night, he was right back here.”

“I believe he wanted to see that you were alright with his own eyes,” Logan elaborates.

Both of their expressions are knowing, and Roman feels himself blushing.

“He was that worried about me?” Roman asks, feeling incredibly touched.

Patton’s smile takes on a mischievous edge, curling like a cat’s.

“He was,” Patton grins, “He really cares about you, y’know?”

Roman’s face grows hotter, but he can’t help a dopey smile from spreading on his lips as he turns to Virgil, diligently guarding Roman even as he sleeps.

Suddenly, Virgil begins to stir.

“Oh! That’s our cue to leave!” Patton announces, grabbing Logan by the arm and dragging him towards the door.

“Wait, what?” Roman startles, “Where are you going—”

“I’m sure you two have some things to talk about,” Logan says, eyes twinkling mischievously, “We’ll leave you to it.”

“What do you mean—”

The door closes with a soft click, leaving Roman alone with a slowly-waking Virgil. The Anxious Side yawns, rubbing his eyes, before his gaze falls upon Roman. He freezes in place, and Roman is just as stunned. 

Virgil isn’t wearing his eyeshadow. 

The lack of dark make-up, coupled with unruly, sleep-tousled hair, has given Virgil a gentler look, almost innocent. His eyes, usually stark against black eyeshadow, sparkle and shine like flickering candlelight. To top it all off, Virgil is bathed in the warm glow of Roman’s fairy lights, softening his sharp and angular features. And amidst it all is a discovery that causes the butterflies in Roman’s stomach to throw a party.

“You have freckles.”

Virgil snaps out of his stupor, his hands flying to his cheeks with a squeak. However, his hands aren’t big enough to cover his ears as well, and their red hue gives away Virgil’s embarrassment.

“N-no I don’t!” Virgil declares vehemently.

“Yes you do!” Roman exclaims, leaning closer to Virgil so he can get a closer look, “You totally have freckles!”

“It’s just the light!” Virgil attempts to argue, leaning away from Roman’s awe-struck gaze, “It’s too dark to see! And you have a concussion, so you don’t know what you’re seeing!”

“My vision is completely fine, Phoenix Wrong,” Roman counters, grinning when Virgil blushes hard enough that his freckles contrast against the red, making them stand out even further, “I also haven’t experienced any hallucinations or memory loss since I woke up.”

“O-oh,” Virgil stutters, “That’s… That’s good.”

Roman laughs, unable to hold it back any longer. Virgil is just too adorable. Virgil scowls grumpily at the laughter, lowering his hands to cross his arms and giving Roman a wonderful view of his beautiful freckles.

“Why would you hide them?” Roman asks, “They’re so pretty.”

Virgil’s eyes widen at the word “pretty”, and he blushes harder, much to Roman’s delight. He then turns away, embarrassed.

“...They’re stupid,” Virgil mumbles, “Ruin my image.”

“I don’t think they’re stupid,” Roman frowns, “They’re cute.”

Virgil chokes, his hands clutching his arms tighter, as if resisting the urge to once again cover his face.

“Yeah, but I’m not cute! I’m Anxiety! Anxiety isn’t supposed to be “cute”!”

Roman wants to argue against that, to present a long list of evidence he had compiled over the past month, but he refrains, knowing that Virgil would probably not appreciate it. Instead, he settles for a compromise.

“Well, I think they’re lovely,” Roman says genuinely.

“You’re lying,” Virgil shoots back immediately. Roman gasps in indignation.

“I would never! Honesty is a necessary virtue for every prince!”

The theatrics have the desired effect, and Virgil snorts, some of the tension leaving his body.

“They still look stupid.”

“Patton has freckles,” Roman retaliates, “Are you saying that Patton looks stupid?”

“Of course not,” Virgil scoffs, “He, like, defines cute. He’s the fucking Heart, for fucks sake. They suit him. I’m not… That’s not me. I’m not cute.” 

Roman sighs, knowing that he won’t be able to change Virgil’s mind anytime soon, even if he so earnestly disagrees with him.

“If you say so,” Roman relents. Virgil sighs in relief, the blood finally leaving his cheeks. He slowly begins to stand, groaning at the sudden shift in position, and Roman winces sympathetically. Holding such an uncomfortable position for so long couldn’t have done his back any favors. After stretching out his sore limbs, Virgil hovers awkwardly, appearing unsure if his presence is still wanted. Seeing this, Roman scoots to the side and pats the now-empty spot on his bed. Virgil blushes, but still gingerly settles beside Roman. 

He’s gone completely silent, biting his lip and messing with the hem of his sleeve. Something seems to be on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Roman asks.

Virgil flinches, hand reaching to clutch at his arm. 

“It’s nothing,” Virgil deflects, “Don’t worry about it.”

Roman raises an eyebrow.

“Well now I’m definitely worrying about it,” Roman says, crossing his legs and shifting so that he’s facing Virgil, “That’s, like, literally the worst thing you could have said if you didn’t want me to worry about it.”

“No– I just–” Virgil fumbles with his words, squirming under Roman’s determined gaze, “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it’s bothering you.”

The blush returns with a vengeance, creeping down Virgil’s neck and to the tips of his ears. 

“What’s wrong with you!?” Virgil groans, bewildered, “How can you say stuff like that with a straight face!?”

“I’m just built different,” Roman replies with a smile. He cradles his face in his hands, arms perched on his crossed legs, and stares Virgil down with wide-eyed attention.

Virgil hesitates, but something in Roman’s expression must convince him, because he eventually concedes.

“It’s about… something you said. Y’know, right before you fell unconscious.”

At these words, Roman is gripped with an ice-cold fear. He can’t remember exactly what he said after he fell, but given Virgil’s reaction, it must have been bad. Did he reveal his plan? Did he confess how utterly smitten he has become with Virgil’s laugh? With Virgil himself?

“You were asking why I wasn’t laughing. Like you… expected it.”

The memory hits Roman like a baseball bat to the face. He had said something along those lines. Oh shit, that’s basically a confession, right? Virgil must have figured out his plan. Or at the very least, Logan had drawn the necessary conclusions and promptly shared his findings with Virgil. Either way, the result is the same.

Oh gods, Roman feels like he might melt from the heat of his embarrassment. His face is no doubt the color of a deliciously ripe tomato.

He expects Virgil to look uncomfortable, if not outright disgusted. He knows how silly he must have appeared to have spent days looking up every joke under the sun, just to recreate a single sound that completely undos him. And it’s definitely extreme to continuously hurt yourself for another person’s amusement. 

It was too much. He’s too much. 

Roman usually prides himself in the sheer magnitude he conducts himself in. His presence fills a room, his voice commands attention. For him, too much is never enough. He always needs to be more, to go beyond the limits that had previously held him back, to break the walls that hold him captive. He is color, he is music, he is imagination incarnate. He is grand, dramatic presence. And that is probably the last thing Virgil wants. 

Virgil, snarky and defensive and introverted. Virgil, mellow and muted and subdued. Virgil, the soft whisper advising caution, the shadows that warn of potential danger, the hero in villain’s clothing. He is darkness, he is trepidation, he is a knight without armor, loyalty and diligence without the shiny exterior. 

Roman is Creativity, noisy and boisterous and loud. Virgil is Anxiety, dark and subdued and quiet. They are like water and oil, fire and ice, Patton and spiders, and a million more clichés that Roman wishes he could rewrite to fit his desires. They just aren’t compatible, and it was stupid of Roman to think otherwise. 

Roman braces himself for rejection, but yet again, Virgil surprises him.

“Do you really think so low of me, that you expect me to laugh while you’re bleeding?”

But the conclusion he draws is even worse than Roman could have anticipated. 

“W-What?”

Virgil’s expression hardens, and if it weren’t for the way he was rapidly blinking, Roman would think that he was simply angry.

“I thought we were okay now! You said you didn’t mind if I teased you! But I would never–”

Virgil takes a shaky breath.

“Do you really think I’m the type of person who would laugh while you’re bleeding out!?”

“No! ” Roman shouts frantically, “No, of course not!”

Roman rushes forward to pull Virgil into his arms, but Virgil evades his grasp, his shoulders beginning to shake. 

“You said that I’m not the bad guy anymore!” Virgil cries, “You said that I’m good ! That I make you guys better!”

“You do!” Roman reassures, “Gods, Virgil! You do! Every moment that I spend with you, I become a better Creativity. I become a better me. Virgil, you are not the bad guy. You are one of the kindest, most selfless people I’ve ever met. You work so hard to protect us without expecting anything in return. You continuously go outside of your comfort zone to accommodate our needs. You are wonderful. I’m so sorry I made you think otherwise.”

Virgil doesn’t seem convinced, and despite his best efforts, a few tears fall, glittering under the fairy lights like tiny cascading stars.

“Then why did you think I would laugh when you were in so much pain? That’s not something a good person does!”

“I didn’t think you would laugh at me!” Roman yells desperately, “I wanted you to laugh at me!”

Silence.

“Wha… What?” Virgil whispers, sounding absolutely gobsmacked, “Why would you… Huh?”

Roman looks down at his hands, unable to stomach whatever look of disgust Virgil must be giving him.

“I… wanted you to laugh,” Roman confesses, ears burning, “That’s why I tried to fall earlier that day. That’s why… I’ve been falling for the past few weeks.”

Virgil doesn’t say anything, and Roman wonders if this is what dying feels like. 

“I’ve been trying to get you to laugh for over a month,” Roman continues, “You didn’t seem to like any of the jokes I told you, but then I remembered that you laughed when I tripped, so… yeah.”

Another minute of silence, so palpable Roman can barely take it. 

“So… all of the jokes, all of the falls…” Virgil speaks slowly, as if trying to parse the meaning of the words coming out of his mouth. “...it was all just to make me laugh?”

“Yeah…” Roman sighs, feeling utterly defeated.

“But… why?”

Roman laughs, a pathetic, broken sound. Does he really need to draw this out, to humiliate himself further? A warrior is already dead once the fatal blow is dealt. One doesn’t need to bother themselves prolonging a battle that’s already decided. 

But Roman can’t refuse Virgil anything. He’s already proven that he would throw himself to the ground countless times for this man. So really, Roman has no choice but to admit the truth.

“You have the most beautiful laugh, did you know that?”

Virgil makes a choked sound, like a bird caught by the neck.

“It’s true,” Roman chuckles, not giving Virgil any chance to dispute it, “Your laughter is like… It’s like leaves dancing on an autumn wind. It’s like the thrum of a guitar building up to an electrifying solo. It’s like shooting stars streaking across the sky, one after another. It’s so…”

Roman’s chest heaves, and he suddenly feels overcome with emotion.

“Brilliant.”

Virgil gasps, his voice wobbling, and Roman can’t help but look up. Silent tears are pouring down Virgil’s cheeks. 

“You can’t–” Virgil’s body shakes involuntarily as he fights back sobs, “You can’t mean that!”

“I can, and I do!” Roman insists, “You are amazing, Virgil! Just as brilliant as your wonderful laughter!”

“Stop!”

“I heard you laugh a single time, and I thought I might die if I never got the chance to hear it again.”

“Stop it! You’re lying!”

“I’m not,” Roman sobs, his voice a desperate plea. He reaches towards Virgil again, and this time he doesn’t resist.

“You are beautiful, Virgil,” Roman professes, pulling Virgil to his chest, “You are every bit as beautiful as your laughter. Gods, just a simple smile from you and I lose my mind. Do you know how gorgeous your smile is?”

Virgil tries to protest, but he can’t get a word in between his sobs. Roman hugs him tighter. 

“I’ve created countless works of art, and none of them hold a candle to your beauty. I’ve had nights where I can’t sleep because I’m haunted by your breathtaking eyes. You have such wonderful eyes, did you know that?”

Indeed, even when they’re filled with tears, Virgil’s eyes are no less beautiful. 

“You are wonderful, Virgil. You are kind, intelligent, and unbelievably funny. I can’t comprehend how I ever could have thought that I hated you, because now my favorite moments are the ones I get to spend with you. And my greatest wish is that you would allow my company for a little while longer.”

Roman closes his eyes, a few tears escaping.

“...But I understand if that is no longer possible. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, my dear. I just wanted you to understand how incredible you are. If you so wish, I will ensure that we only encounter each other when necessary and give you the space you–”

Virgil punches Roman on the arm. Hard. 

“OW!” Roman yelps, grasping his throbbing arm. The punch was particularly painful, as Virgil had hit an area covered in bruises. “What was that for!?”

“You’re an idiot,” Virgil growls, “Literally the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

Roman opens his mouth to protest, but he’s cut off once again when Virgil rockets back into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“You… Y-you…” 

Virgil squeezes him, his next words coming out in a wail. 

“You’re such a dumbass and I love you so much!”

Roman’s heart decides it’s done with simple gymnastics and leaps so high that it soars and lodges itself into Roman’s throat. The butterflies are having a rave in his stomach, EDM and flashing lights and all. He can’t breathe, but breathing has never felt less important than at this very moment.

“Y-you–!”

“I love you! I love you! I love you!” Virgil howls, clutching Roman so tightly he might actually be cutting off blood circulation. 

Roman, quivering from dancing butterflies and his wannabe gymnast heart and him feeling literally every single emotion at once, crumbles like a house of cards, the two of them falling together into silken sheets and a knitted blanket patterned with hearts.

“I love you, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s a beautiful day in the Mindscape. The state of Florida had decided to bestow mercy upon its residents with a perfectly sunny day. Sunshine poured through windows throughout the house, basking the rooms in a warm, cozy glow. On perfect days like this, Roman would normally venture off into the Imagination, the cheerful weather sparking inspiration. If he didn’t feel up to a grand adventure, he would go for a walk outside, seeking interesting encounters or simply enjoying the fresh air. Suffice it to say, Roman does not like to let such beautiful days go to waste. 

But today, Roman is not in the Imagination, nor is he outside. The inviting sunlight peaks through Roman’s bedroom window, which the Creative Side pointedly ignores. Instead, he is curled up in his bed, writing snippets of poetry in red, sparkly ink. Sitting with Roman is his reason for not leaving the house. Virgil is lying down perpendicular to Roman, back supported with a few of Roman’s many pillows and legs draped over Roman’s own. Like Roman, he also has a pen in hand, except instead of poetry, Virgil is drawing. 

The atmosphere is quiet and peaceful, like the haze blanketing the world just before sunrise. Normally, Roman would avoid silence at all cost, unable to endure a single moment of boredom. But right now, he is content to sit in complete silence with his favorite person in the world, basking in each other’s company.

…Well, maybe not complete silence. What can Roman say, old habits die hard.

“Hey, Virgil?”

Virgil looks up from his sketch.

“Yeah?”

Roman resists the urge to smile and give himself away.

“Are you a broom?”

Virgil tilts his head to the side, like an adorably confused puppy. 

“...because you’re constantly sweeping me off my feet!”

“Pfft—!”

Surprised and flustered, Virgil dissolves into giggles, a lovely shade of pink blooming on his cheeks. Despite his embarrassed state, Virgil doesn’t bring a hand to cover his face. He doesn’t hide his laughter anymore. At least, not for Roman. 

“God, that was awful, ” Virgil laughs.

For Roman, that’s more than enough encouragement to carry on.

“Are you a parking ticket?” Roman says, his grin widening, “because you’ve got FINE written all over you.”

Virgil laughs harder, bending at the waist over his sketchbook. Amidst his hot-red face, his eyeshadow shifts to a sparkly lavender (and wasn’t that a delightful discovery on Roman’s part).

“Hey Virgil!”

Virgil can barely speak through his laughter, but he tries.

“Ye—hehehe—y-yes?”

Roman pauses, allowing Virgil to regain a bit of his composure, so he can tear it back down again.

“You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line.”

Virgil snorts indignantly before falling victim to another powerful wave of laughter, tears pooling in his eyes and threatening to fall. The laughter is contagious, and Roman can’t help but join him.

Gods, how did he get so lucky?

“H-hey,” Virgil says between bouts of laughter, “Hey, Roman?”

Trying to reign in his own giggles, Roman responds.

“Yes, Stormcloud?”

As a less-seasoned performer, Virgil isn’t quite able to stop himself from grinning ear-to-ear before telling the joke. But nevertheless, he delivers it with enough gusto to make Roman proud.

“I think there’s something wrong with my eyes,” he states, trying to feign seriousness but failing miserably, “I just can’t look away from you.”

Roman howls with laughter, Virgil quickly joining in, and the two are a giggly mess.

Even after a year of dating, Virgil’s laughter still takes Roman’s breath away. And making Virgil laugh? It’s Roman’s favorite thing to do in the world.

Well… Maybe not his favorite. There is one thing that’s even better.

“Hey, Virgil?”

Virgil turns to Roman, still giggling, lively and breathtaking and beautiful.

“Yeah, Princey?”

“...Kiss me?”

Virgil’s smile softens into something saccharinely sentimental, and he doesn’t hesitate to lean over to Roman and grant his request. Butterflies erupt in Roman’s stomach as he pulls Virgil in closer, feeling content and warm and loved.

When the two part, they can’t stop themselves from laughing again, each filled to the brim with pure, unrestrained joy.

[virgeandhis-pocket-protector]

Ayo @prince-rowan-of-the-forest tagged me in the "getting to know your fellow fanfic authors" writing tag game! I'm putting this in a new post cause the original one was gettin long.

Go see Rowan's answers here! (https://www.tumblr.com/prince-rowan-of-the-forest/730426008116822016/aaaaa-thanks-for-the-tag-when-did-you-post-your?)

My answers beneath the read more.

When did you post your first fanfic?

Lordy. Back in 2019, I posted an extremely rough draft of a multi-chapter Sanders Sides (or 'SaSi') fanfic called Kingdoms for a Mind (or 'KFAM') on Wattpad. Either that one or a now tossed SaSi fic called Fear No More (guess which side was the focus in that one. Guess. Hint: It's the anxious guy.)

First Character you wrote for:

Virgil from Sanders Sides, I thiiiiink? Although I wrote for most of the sides at that point, too. Virgil was my little baby boy though.

Main character(s) you're currently writing for:

Logan, Janus, Virgil, Patton, and Remus in the updated version of KFAM i'm working on, and Patton and Roman in a new SaSi/The Mechanisms crossover.

Character(s) you haven't written about before but plan on writing about soon:

Mostly non-SaSi stuff. I have some fic ideas for a Pure Vessel/Pale King angst (from the Hollow Knight video game) or Diggory and Percy from Hello from the Hallowoods (highly recommended queer drama podcast).

Fandom(s) you're currently writing for:

SANDERS SIDES and the mechansisms and star wars and someday probably hollow knight and hello from the hallowoods oh and me and my friend's D&D campaign, but that's mostly original stuff.

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Tehe. All SaSi platonic duos, pretty much, like the whole group. Platonic/familial Janus, Logan, and Virgil is a favorite though. And I love my creativitwins angst.

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Analogical, Anxceit, and Royality, among others like loceit, intruality, and prinxiety.

Your top three tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Character tags: 1. Original Characters 2. Morality | Patton Sanders 3. Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Relationship tags: 1. Analogical (romantic) 2. Virgil & Roman (platonic) 3. Creativitwins (platonic)

Your current platform where you post your works:

Archive of Our Own (Ao3)! Here's my acc.* (https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakewithapen/profile) *PSA that I haven't posted anything new in a while. Feel free to read my 3-year-old stuff tho. And if you're feeling extra special, please please bully me about posting stuff I really gotta -v-

Snippet of A WIP you're currently working on:

"The fire cracks. Leaning against a fallen tree, only a few miles away from where their journey began all those weeks ago, Logan realizes he has forgotten how to lie to himself. With conscious, newfound honesty, Logan senses that he is not just uncomfortable. He is angry. Janus doesn’t need to know. Why, in a million years, would Janus even deserve to know? Logan’s feeling are private, they are his, and they do not have to be spoken to anyone. Ever. Logan looks down toward the grass. Why do you care? He almost spits out, but in his periphery, he can see Janus still looking towards the woods. The other’s hands are placed gingerly in his own lap. His mouth is turned down, but his eyes are wide and alert. Janus longs for Virgil to return, too, just as Logan is. He feels the same urges Logan feels. Janus must already know the answer to his question. He knows. He must hate that he knows. He thinks Logan will either save his feelings or put him out of his misery and either option is nicer than conscious ignorance. Perhaps Janus has come to find he can’t lie to himself either. Logan’s stomach churns. They must be talking about these feelings, once so sweet and freeing, in the bitterest configuration possible." (From "Kingdoms for a Mind 2" — a Sanders sides fic)

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

No-pressure tagging some of my favorite fanfic authors:

@i-will-physically-fight-you @late-to-the-fandom @anxious-mess19 @vinbee631 @groovyghostie @annaizscribbling @emo-nightmares @girlboypatton @lily-janus

This is also @pancakewithamace, btw, in case you don't recognize this blog!

[yourdragonwitchroyalty]

The Nightmare Of My Dreams: A Prinxiety Love Story:

Chapter One:

Roman stared blankly at the ceiling.

It was around 5:20 in the morning, and the first hints of sunrise were streaming in through his window, lighting up the opposing wall. Roman pulled his blanket up, rolling onto his side as he did.

He didn’t feel like getting up. His eyes were heavy, and tired, but they couldn’t stay closed.

Behind his eyelids was the ghost of a memory that Roman wanted to forget. Familiar faces. An ex lover who’s phantom touch trailed his skin, causing him to shiver.

He would pretend he was cold, but Roman never got cold. It was impossible with the flame burning under his skin.

His eyes fell shut, and he groaned, rolling onto his back again.

He couldn’t stay like this, not now. He had things to do.

Reluctantly, Roman opened his eyes, and sat up, turning on the lamp which sat on his side table. The brightness didn’t burn his eyes. Even if they were tired, they were quick enough to adjust in mere seconds.

Roman took his glasses, and a pill bottle from off the nightstand, slid his glasses on, and took one of the pills, swallowing it easily.

Roman pulled his blanket back, and stood. He stretched his arms up, before bending forward, touching the ground beneath his feet.

After holding the stretch for a moment, he stood, and began to undress. Once he was done, he pulled on his bathrobe, tied it, and left for the bathroom.

Switching on the light, Roman studied himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair, which wasn’t too bad, then rested his hands on the counter, leaning forwards to look closely at his face.

It was the same as it always was. The same nose, eyes, lips, eyebrows, moles, jaw.

He managed to look rather presentable. Roman took his glasses off, and put his contacts in, blinking a few times before moving onto the rest of his inspection.

He pulled his lips back, checking his teeth. They didn’t look too bad, but when Roman ran his tongue over them they were rough with plaque.

He pulled out his toothbrush, before deciding he should probably eat first. Roman made his way to his kitchen, opening the fridge, grabbing a carton of eggs and a bag of sandwich ham.

He hummed to himself as he turned on the stove, cut the ham into pieces, and whisked the eggs.

The sound of sizzling and the smell of ham and eggs filled the small kitchen, making Roman smile a bit.

Once the eggs were done, Roman grabbed a fork, turned off the stove, picked up the pan, and ate.

The clock on the stove said 5:35, causing Roman to curse, and quickly finish his eggs. He left the pan in the sink, and ran to the bathroom.

Pulling off his robe, Roman got into the shower, turning the water on, and not caring that it was cold as he began to wash his face.

After washing and rinsing his hair, he was out, throwing his towel on as he hurried back to his room.

He dressed quickly, heading back to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and dry and style his hair.

Roman checked the time on his phone as he finished. It was 5:49 and Patton was texting him about coffee.

Roman opened his phone, pressing the call button on Patton’s contact, and waited for him to answer as he pulled his shoes on at the front of his apartment.

“Hey!” Patton’s voice called.

“Hey, Pat, could you get me my usual? I’ll be there soon,” Roman asked.

He grabbed his keys, and was out the door of his apartment, locking it behind him as Patton answered.

“Sure! See you there!”

“Bye,”

Roman entered the elevator for his floor, pressing the down button as he ended the call. He slid his phone into his pocket, and watched as the doors closed.

Roman began humming along to the familiar tune of the elevator music, fidgeting his hands together as he waited.

Soon, the doors opened to the lobby, and he was out. Making his way to the front door, he waved to the person at the front desk, a kind woman who he called Ms. Z, before leaving the building.

Roman made his way to the bus stop, checking his phone for the time.

5:54.

The bus arrived, and Roman entered along with a few other regulars, taking a seat near the front, looking out the window.

It took about 4 minutes for the bus to pull up to his stop. Roman exited the bus, giving the driver a friendly smile as he did.

The stop had brought him to the local grocery store, his daily destination.

Roman quickly made his way inside, heading over to the staff section to clock in, and grab his name tag.

“Good morning!” Patton said, giving Roman a beaming smile as he entered the back room.

“Good morning, Padre,” Roman said, pinning his name tag to his shirt.

“I got your usual,” Patton gestured to the break table, where a coffee cup sat.

“Thanks, I need the caffeine today,”

Roman grabbed the cup, taking a long drink. When he pulled the cup away Patton was staring at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Roman asked, confused.

“That’s piping hot, are you ok?” Patton questioned, looking worried.

“Oh,” Roman looked at the cup. “It wasn’t that bad,”

Patton still looked worried, but nodded.

“Alright. Well, finish that quick, we need someone at the register,” he said, giving Roman another, more concerned smile before leaving the break room.

Roman let out a breath after Patton was gone. He hadn’t told Patton about his power. Almost everyone was born with them, but revealing his abilities would be foolish.

It was around 8:27 when Roman checked the time again.

Roman was checking one of the regulars, an older man who was always the sweetest, when a new person entered the store.

Since the cashiers were near the front, whoever was on cashier duty would welcome the new customers in.

Roman looked over as he heard the door open, and put on a welcoming smile. “Welcome in!” He said to the person.

Pausing, Roman took their appearance in.

He was a very alternative looking man.

His hair was spiky, short, and purple, and his bangs hung in front of his eyes. He was too far away to see his eye color, but he was pale, almost to the point of being concerning. His purple shirt was the only piece of color in his otherwise all black outfit. He wore a black jacket, black jeans, and all black high top Converse. He had some accessories like a studded belt, a chain on his pants, black fingerless gloves, a black choker, and he looked to have earrings but Roman couldn’t say for sure unless he got close.

The thing that stuck out to Roman however, was the man’s height. He was tall, 6,0” at least, but was slouching, so Roman assumed he must be taller.

Roman tore his gaze away after he realized he’d been staring, and he turned back to the customer he’d been helping.

After he finished up with that, he looked to the next in the line only to realize that the tall man was standing there.

“How may I help you today?” Roman asked, trying to keep his voice cheerful.

The man was close enough for Roman to see his eyes. They were brown with black eye makeup under them. And Roman had been right, the man was wearing earrings, as well as a variety of other piercings. He had a bridge piercing, snakebites, two different nose piercings, an eyebrow piercing, and multiple cartilage piercings.

“Are you guys hiring?” The man asked.

Roman almost flushed at how deep his voice was.

“Oh, yeah! We’re always looking for help! Let me call my manager,” Roman managed, thanking his many years of theater.

He pulled the store phone out, speaking into it. “Patton to checkout, Patton to checkout, please,” Roman’s voice called over the speakers.

He set the phone down, and when he looked back over at the man, the man looked away.

“I’m Roman by the way,” Roman said.

“I could tell,” the man gestured to Roman’s name tag.

Roman felt somewhat embarrassed at that.

“Yeah, perks of working retail I suppose,”

It fell quiet as they waited. Roman didn’t mind it, but it was kinda awkward.

“You called?” Roman looked over as Patton approached the two of them, before glancing at the man.

He wasn’t sure who was gonna say it.

“I wanted to apply to work here,” the man said, after a moment.

Patton grinned, and clasped his hands together. “Perfect! Come with me,”

Roman watched as Patton and the man left, and he sighed after they were out of earshot.

That was awkward. Roman didn’t know what would happen if the man got the job, but he guessed he’d figure it out.

About 20 minutes later, Patton approached Roman where he was restocking the checkout candy, the man by his side.

“Roman, this is Virgil, he’ll be working with us starting tomorrow,”

Roman looked at the man, and gave a smile, although it probably looked tired.

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil,” he said.

Virgil nodded, staying silent. Patton looked between the two, clearing his throat.

“Well, we’ll have that name tag ready by tomorrow!”

Roman opened the door of his apartment, flipping the light switch, and stepping inside.

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon, but he was already feeling tired.

Roman shed his jacket, and hung it on the rack, before closing the door behind him, locking it.

He placed his keys on their hook, and trudged to his room, flicking the lights on.

Roman collapsed face first onto his bed, groaning tiredly. He lay there for a moment, before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Opening it, Roman pressed on the news app, scanning the screen for anything.

There was nothing apparent, but it would still be good to check on everything.

Roman begrudgingly stood up, and made his way over to his closet.

He opened the door, and reached up, pulling a black backpack from the top shelf.

Roman slung it over his shoulder, before heading out of his room, to the front door again.

After fishing his keys off their hook, Roman made his way out of his apartment, locking the door, before heading to the other end of the hall.

This led to the stairs to the roof, which he climbed quickly.

Roman stepped out onto the roof, looking around for anyone else.

Seeing no one, Roman shrugged off his backpack, and unzipped it, pulling its contents out.

There was his suit, gloves, cape, boots, and mask.

He undressed, quickly redressing in his uniform.

Roman stuffed his regular clothes into the backpack, before stashing the bag in a hidden portion of the roof.

He swung his arms a bit, before stretching them out.

After doing a couple more stretches to get his adrenaline flowing, Roman held his gloved hand out, creating a small fire in his palm.

He smiled at it before pushing it away, letting it grow and form into a walkway of fire which bridged the gap between the building he was on, and the building next to it.

Roman made his way across, and began his patrol, moving from building to building, and looking around for anything suspicious.

Roman stood on top of the building adjacent to a bank, watching the building.

It wasn’t a very notable bank, but even the least notable banks got robbed.

It was around 4:30, and Roman was somewhat tired, but he wouldn’t leave until the bank closed, which was in half an hour.

He sighed softly.

Hero work was exhausting sometimes, especially when Roman worked full time, and had to do everything himself.

He wished he had a team sometimes.

Roman couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow in his chest at that thought.

Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to the bank. This time, something caught his eye.

A dark figure approached the bank, before stopping outside of it.

Roman couldn’t see much about them, so there was a chance it was nothing, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

He walked over to the edge of the building, climbing quickly down the fire escape. Once he was on the ground, Roman made his way to the entrance to the alley he was in, peering out, and at the figure.

They were leaning against the outside of the bank, seemingly checking a device in their hand. Their face was cast in shadow by the dark hood they were wearing, so Roman couldn’t see their features.

Someone walked past them, and Roman stared. The person who had passed them had looked to be around Roman’s height, but the figure was a good foot taller than them.

This wasn’t a normal person Roman was dealing with, this was a Nightmare.

Shit.

Roman took a breath. Now, there was a chance that this person was just a civilian, but Roman wasn’t sold on that.

He stepped out of the alley, and crossed the street, deciding that it would be best to approach.

See, if this person was intending to rob a bank, they’d most likely back off when they realize that a hero was there. Besides, if a fight was going to happen, it would be best to be close.

As Roman approached them, the person’s head tilted up, their face showing slightly. Their skin was deathly pale, even lighter than that Virgil guy’s had been, and were those…mandibles?

They looked to be a man, but it would be rude to assume. Standing not only 7,0”, they were skinny, and their hands were bigger than Roman’s, probably about 2/3rds the size.

Roman felt unnaturally unnerved as he approached them, and he felt their gaze, cold and glaring, on him.

“Hello, are you doing quite alright?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and more boisterous, as he tried to do whenever he was in costume.

The person glowered down at him, and he noted that it was with 4 pairs of glowing, purple eyes. “What do you want?” They asked, their voice deep and echoing, unlike anything Roman had ever heard.

It was like their voice was surrounding him, closing in on him.

Roman took a breath, studying the person again.

They were wearing a black blazer, with matching black dress pants, a dark gray vest which was attached to the hood they wore, a purple dress shirt, and a black tie.

The whole thing was far more menacing than it should’ve been.

“I-I wanted to make sure you were alright…” Roman mumbled, an uncharacteristic nervousness in his voice.

The person studied him, before leaning down, looking him dead in the face, and bearing their fanged teeth in a sinister snarl.

“You’re not wanted here, Hero,” they sneered.

Roman stumbled back at the sheer venom in their words.

“You’ll just get in the way,”

The Nightmare gave him another glare, before heading towards the bank.

Panicked, Roman started forward, feeling his feet move without thinking.

[always-anxious612]

Close Calls Ch. 2

This is the last chapter of this but I may do more of this au in the future! Also please don't judge me for my accuracy lol. I only did surface-level research on wounds and infections :')

Description: The infection grows more serious, and Virgil has to drag Roman to the clinic before it gets any worse. Unfortunately, he doesn't quite succeed. In other words, Roman is stubborn, Virgil is tired, and everything goes wrong.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality

Warnings: panic attack, injuries mentioned, infections, homophobia menntioned, crying (let me know if I missed something or if you want something tagged!)

Word Count: 5,360

Chapter 1

The next day, I woke up a bit late, and, after hurriedly getting ready, began my duties as usual hoping Logan wouldn’t notice I was late. Logan was already in the clinic, as always, but this time Lord Patton was there as well. Thankfully, his presence saved me from a lengthy lecture. Patton was a well-known Lord in the castle, famous for his kindness and friendliness. Plus, he and Roman were pretty close as far as I could tell. Well, as close as a visiting Lord and a prince who only saw each other in formal spaces could be, I guess. They seemed to get along well is what I’m trying to say. Everyone at the castle loved him, though to be honest. Recently, I’d noticed he’d been visiting the castle more frequently and staying for longer periods of time, making a point to visit the clinic and say hello when he did. It had gotten to the point where he insisted that I call him Patton and drop the formalities while we were in the clinic. Logan had seemed to drop the formalities with him long ago.

“Um, good morning, my Lord,” I greeted Patton, still not quite being able to break the habit quite yet and trying to run a hand through my hand to make my bedhead more presentable. What so sue me, I didn’t have time to fix it that morning. I’d been up all night worrying about a certain prince.

“Oh, hi, Virgil! Good morning!” Patton grinned brightly. Ugh, how did he have so much energy so early in the day. I’d never understand morning people.

“I told you to just call me Patton, kiddo. No need to be so formal,” he added, coming over to ruffle my hair. Welp, guess fixing it had been pointless. Sometimes, I wondered if he knew we were the same age or if he just called everyone kiddo. From what I knew of him it was probably the latter.

“Um, right, so uh, is everything ok?” I questioned, awkwardly clearing my throat. “I—I mean, you’re not sick or anything, right?”

Sure, he’d been showing up here for a while now on his visits, but it never hurt to make sure. This was a clinic after all.

“Oh, no, no,” Patton assured, walking back over to Logan. “Just checking up on my two favorite physicians!”

“I’m still a nurse, technically,” I reminded him, though I couldn’t help but relax at his friendliness.

“Oh, Virgil, I meant to tell you. Today, you have the day off,” Logan finally spoke up, looking up from the papers he had been flipping through on his desk. So much for worrying about being late…Wait what?

“The day off?” I blanched. “But you always say that a doctor’s work is never done.”

I truly couldn’t remember a single day off since I’d started working here unless it was for medical reasons—ironic really.

“Ah, yes, well, Patton has expressed an interest in my profession, and I thought I’d take today to teach him a few things,” Logan replied, blushing slightly. Strange, Logan didn’t blush very easily…. I glanced at Patton and raised an eyebrow, trying not to jump to conclusions. If Logan understood what I was hinting at, he promptly ignored me, and I squashed down the thought. It wasn’t my business anyway, especially considering my own circumstances.

“If an emergency arises, I shall send for you, but soon, I’ll be taking Patton on my rounds to teach him to deal with less, um, life-threatening injuries and illnesses. You’re welcome to stay in the clinic if you’d like, but in case you need to find me, my list of patients to visit for today will be on my desk,” he instructed, clearing his throat.

“Oh, um, ok,” I muttered, already inching toward the door, “See ya later then, I guess. Bye Lo. Uh, Patton,”

I nodded a goodbye to both of them and waited until Patton had smiled and waved cheerily and Logan just nodded back to make my escape. Well, this gave me a chance to check on Roman at least.

Once I got up the many stairs and reached Roman’s room, I took a minute to catch my breath and look around before knocking. You’d think I’d be more used to making that trip by now.

“Um, your highness?” I called when I received no answer to my knock, glancing around again, just to be sure. When I still received no answer, I decided it was safe to just go in. Maybe he didn’t hear me?

“Roman?” I called after I made sure the door was closed behind me. Roman was standing by his window, studying the lush gardens outside, but he made no move to greet me.

“Princey?” I tried again, growing more concerned by the minute.

“Oh, Virgil!” He finally exclaimed, turning around a bit unsteadily. Huh, well that didn’t seem good.

“Uh, hey there, Roman. You doing ok?” I asked, already trying to examine him. His forehead was slick with sweat, and—though it looked like he had tried to cover it with makeup—I could see how flushed he was from across the room.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m perfectly ok, V,” he smiled, as I came closer. The closer I got the worse he looked. His eyes were glazed, and he looked a little out of it, constantly rubbing at his eyes. Plus, other than the badly concealed flush of his cheeks, he was concerningly pale.

“Really,” I deadpanned.

“Yes, really. You’re only a tad bit blurry!” he asserted before cursing as he realized he’d just given himself away, “It’s really not that bad. I’m fine.”

“Wha—Roman, that’s not fine,” I chastised, hurrying the rest of the way over to him as he blinked sluggishly. “Can you make it to your bed?” “No, because I do not need to be in my bed,” he waved me off nervously.

“Roman,” I growled, grabbing his arm.

“Truly, Virgil, I’m completely fine,” Roman insisted, pulling at my grip.

“Obviously,” I retorted when he failed to get his arm back, “Just drop the act so I can help you. I need to see exactly what’s going on.”

“No,” He snapped yanking away from me, “I said I’m fine. I-I have an important meeting with the council to attend about the raids. So, if you’re done, I need to be on my way. Good day, Virgil,”

“Don’t you dare, Roman,” I threatened as he made his way shakily to the door.

“Listen, just—just make an excuse. You’re the prince. I’m sure you can postpone the meeting.”

“It’s not my meeting. My father called it, and he’s expecting me. I’m very sorry, Virgil, but I have to go,”

Ah, so that’s how it was. If this involved his father, it was going to be a whole lot harder to convince him to skip.

Roman had made it into the hallway and halfway toward the staircase by the time I collected my thoughts and made it to the doorway. However, I didn’t miss the fact that he was hugging the wall the whole way there.

“Roman—er, your highness—” I cleared my throat, looking around quickly. It was strangely empty. Whatever, it would be a lot more trouble if I got caught with Roman looking like this than for not addressing him properly, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.  

“Roman, please. You can’t do this. You can barely stand up straight, much less last through a whole meeting,” I begged. Roman straightened slightly but otherwise kept walking making me tsk.

When he reached the staircase, he turned to glance at me before straightening once again and disappearing down the stairs. Groaning at his stubbornness, I hurried after him.

“Roman?” I called, getting worried when I turned the corner and didn’t see him. I made it a little over halfway down the winding staircase before finding Roman, leaning against the wall and panting. How the hell had he moved so fast and gotten so far ahead in this condition?

“Ro?” I asked hesitantly, eyes flicking over his slouched posture and glassy expression.

“May—Maybe I don’t feel so great,” He muttered before sliding unceremoniously down the wall.

“Princey,” I gasped, grabbing his arm and part of his shirt to keep him from toppling down the stairs.

“Hey, hey, Roman, are you ok?” I questioned, shifting to get a better hold on him and pinning him back against the wall. Roman mumbled a response too quiet to hear as his eyes fluttered.

“No no no no. Roman, stay awake, ok? Stay with me. We’re still on the staircase, I can’t get—I don’t—ugh, damn it, Roman. I’m not strong enough to carry you back up. Why didn’t you just listen to me,” I muttered, starting to panic.

It’s ok, it’s ok, I started coaching myself, taking deep breaths as I tried not to launch into a full-blown panic attack. just take a deep breath and think. It’s not that bad, I blatantly lied to myself, trying not to even entertain the thought of what would happen if someone chose this moment to walk down the staircase. I could do this, right? I could—I could at least get him to the clinic if not back to his room. That was better anyway. He needed medical care that wasn’t me, and besides, going downstairs would be easier than going up, right? At least that’s what I hoped…

I was wrong. Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this was easier than going upstairs, but if that were true, I dreaded to think how going upstairs would be. After I had convinced Roman to finally let me take him to the clinic—as if I was really giving him a choice this time or that he was alert enough to fight back anyway—I found myself carrying a delirious, semi-conscious Prince on my back. Unfortunately, no matter what direction you go, trying to navigate stairs with a whole person on your back is rather difficult.

“Remind me—to—to kill you—after I make sure—you’re ok,” I huffed, out of breath and already sweating. Roman didn’t reply, concerning me even more. How had he gotten so sick just overnight? It had to be the infection, right?

After what felt like ages, I reached the clinic and almost sagged in relief.

“Logan?” I gasped, kicking open the door. At this point, Roman was completely unresponsive and slack against me, making it even harder to keep him on my back. I quickly laid him on the clinic bed and frantically looked around for Logan before realizing he was probably already on his rounds.

“Are you kidding me,” I grumbled, going to grab a damp towel for Roman’s forehead. The whole point of risking bringing him here instead of to his room was that I didn’t know what to do.

Huffing, I gathered some bandages and supplies to check on Roman’s wound again. That’s really the only thing I could think of that could be causing this. Did the infection get worse? Just how bad? When I got the bandages from yesterday off, I hissed in sympathy. Just as I had feared, the infection was much worse. It—This whole thing was beginning to feel like my fault. If I’d done better cleaning and stitching it. If I’d noticed that he was developing a fever yesterday. If I’d convinced him to come to Logan. If—If…I took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts to focus on what I should do now. My hands trembled as I began thoroughly cleaning and sterilizing the infected area. At least there were actual supplies in the clinic, I guess.

            After I cleaned it, I set to work quickly, gently rubbing some antibiotic cream over the infection and making sure the stitches were ok. I’d have to make sure to change his bandages more often and to keep it clean so this wouldn’t happen again or get any worse. Next, I grabbed a cup of water and some medicines that should help with both the fever and the infection. This was the only other thing I could think of doing. The infection didn’t seem severe enough to have to remove it surgically or anything, but I’d be sure to ask Logan when he came back. The thought of him seeing how horribly I’d messed this up made me sick to my stomach, especially when the prince was the patient; but I knew it would be much worse if I didn’t get his help.

Sighing, I brought the medicine over to Roman and sat on the edge of the bed

“Princey,” I whispered, nudging his arm. Roman groaned and groggily batted my hand away.

“Come on, Princey, I need you to take these,” I coaxed softly, ignoring his swat and shaking him again. This time, he managed to squint his eye open.

“Do wha’?” he slurred tiredly.

“Take these pills, Ro. They’ll help.”

“M-My father. I have to—” he remembered suddenly, trying to push himself up and ignoring the offered pills.

“No,” I responded curtly, pushing him back down gently, “Your father can wait. I’ll even help you make up an excuse. Or you know, I’ll have Logan write you a medical note to prove that you have a fever and are not fit for work today. You—You passed out, Roman, I think that warrants skipping the meeting. Lean back and take these. Please.”

Roman sighed heavily but did as he was told and took the pills and water from me. His easy compliance told me all I needed to know about how badly he must be feeling.

After he gulped down the rest of the water, he ended up passing out again, leaving me to sit and wait by myself. Logan’s rounds usually took about two and a half to three hours because of the amount of soldiers the castle housed. More soldiers meant more injuries to check up on, and on days were the infirmary wasn’t full, or when the clinic was slow, Logan took his time to personally visit and check on every one of them. That’s not even mentioning the other castle staff that he’d tend to when illness spread throughout the castle or the fact that he had earned the title of royal physician, meaning that he also took care of not only the royal family but also any visiting noble staying in the castle. Needless to say, he had a lot of patients, and though he had other physicians and nurses that would regularly come and help him, especially when there was an influx, he usually preferred to work alone when he could. Today, no one was scheduled to be in the clinic, and no one was in the infirmary, so I knew Logan would be taking his time. With Patton there, it would probably take him even longer. He loved any opportunity to teach.

Sighing once again, I went to stand to get some water for myself when something warm clamped around my wrist.

“Roman?” I questioned, turning to find his hand holding me back. “Is something wrong?”

He grunted softly before yanking me forward, almost causing me to trip onto him.

“Cuddle,” he mumbled before I could yell at him. I felt my face flush bright red at his request.

“R-Roman, you know we can’t,” I protested, trying to pull away.

“Virgil,” Roman pouted, gazing up at me blearily, “Please?”

“We’re—We’re not in your room, Ro. Someone could walk in.”

“Please?” he begged, already struggling to keep his eyes open. I bit my lip hesitantly. He didn’t look far from falling asleep again. Maybe I could just cuddle long enough to get him to sleep then slip out before anyone could see us. Besides, it wasn’t as if anybody but me and Logan usually came into the clinic when it was closed anyway, and Logan was out on his rounds.

“Fine,” I gave in reluctantly as Roman smiled victoriously and scooted over to make room for me.

I couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped my lips once I was settled in his arms, making sure to be careful of his wound. It was just so warm and comforting, and the way he was playing with my hair…I absentmindedly snuggled into his chest and let the warmth numb my mind. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worried about Roman—apparently for good reason. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt, right? Besides, I was sure Logan wouldn’t be back for at least a couple of hours, and he was always complaining about the dark circles under my eyes and telling me to get more sleep. He should be happy I’m finally taking his advice. Unfortunately, my brain was too tired and too content to remind me just how bad an idea it was to let my guard down out in the open like this. Roman’s now steady breaths lulled me deeper into comfort and I felt myself slipping. It was so warm. This is nice, my mind almost sighed as I slid into sleep with Roman’s arms still wrapped securely around me. I should really learn to listen to my instincts more…

I was pulled from that warmth a little bit later by a rough nudge to my arm. Thinking it must be Roman, I groaned and shoved the arm away. The nudging paused and I was about to go back to sleep when there was another nudge—softer this time—followed by a voice.

“Virgil, you should probably get up.”

Oh. That—That wasn’t Roman’s voice. In an instant I shot up, inhaling sharply as I saw Logan and Patton peering down at me. No, oh no, no no no, how could I have let this happen? I should have never fallen asleep. I always harped on Roman for doing things that could get us caught but this was all my fault. What should I do? What could I do? Both of them had always been kind to me, but there was no telling how they’d react to this. Were they going to be angry? Were they disgusted with me? Were—Were they going to report me? What about Roman? I couldn’t let anything happen to him because of my carelessness. As my thoughts swirled around me, it became harder to draw air into my lungs. Once I realized that I couldn’t breathe, my chest constricted, holding back more of my breath. If it tightened anymore, I feared it would be impossible to breath altogether, but I couldn’t seem to collect my thoughts enough to loosen the knot there. My hands shook as I hugged myself, willing my panicked thoughts to go away. Obviously, it didn’t work. I saw motion from the corner of my eye and realized Logan was talking to me. Had he been talking this whole time?

“Virgil,” he coached, “Virgil, do you think you can take a breath in? Follow my breathing, ok?” more movement, to my left this time, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I tried to follow along; I really did. But every breath hurt. Everything hurt. My throat was burning. My chest ached. My head pounded. And everything was going wrong. Everything that I feared was happening. We’d been discovered. I ruined it. We couldn’t—I couldn’t—we just…half formed thoughts plagued my mind and my breath hitched as I realized I was crying. Was I going to be executed for this? 

“Virgil, dearest. Look at me, my love,” a different voice spoke up this time, but there was only one person who called me dearest and my love. I felt a hand touch my cheek hesitantly, then gently tilt my face until I was face to face with Roman.

“I need you to breath with me, Virge,” he instructed, calmly. “In for four seconds. Hold for seven. Out for eight, remember? You can do it.”

As he counted out the seconds, he removed his hand from my face in order to take my hand and press it against his chest. I struggled to follow along at first, but he continued breathing deeply and counting the seconds until I could. With Roman’s reassurances and guidance, I slowly felt myself relaxing.

Once the world came into focus again and I could breathe regularly without feeling like I was dying, I took one more deep breath before slouching forward into Roman’s chest.

“It’s alright, V,” Roman soothed, carding his fingers through my hair. Except, it wasn’t ok. Logan and Patton saw us. They know. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up and see if they were still standing there or if they’d already gone to report us to the king. The silence in the room made me inclined to believe the latter. I loved Logan, but he was very strict with the rules. There’s no way he’d let something as big as this slide. I was just another nurse, right? Instead, I sniffled and buried myself further into Roman’s chest.

“Oh, your shirt,” I lamented shakily, brushing my fingers against the wet spot that now stained the expensive fabric.

“It’s nothing, stormcloud,” Roman hushed, pulling me closer. I felt more tears burn my eyes at the action.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle uncomfortably in my chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dearest,” Roman assured softly. Liar. How could he say that when I was the reason we’d never get to see each other again.

“Um, pardon me for interrupting, my prince, but I believe this tea may help Virgil,” Logan’s voice offered softly from behind me making me jump. He was still here? Wait, he didn’t sound angry or disgusted. “Ah, um, thank you,” Roman responded, accepting the tea.

Taking a steadying breath, I finally pushed myself away from Roman’s chest. Roman handed me the tea before placing his arms loosely around my waist. I looked at the tea then hesitantly back to Logan. Patton stood behind him, worry swimming in his eyes. What was going on exactly?

“The tea helps to calm the heart rate and I find it to be quite helpful when I’m feeling stressed,” Logan explained awkwardly when I didn’t make any move to drink it. Nodding warily, I took a sip, relishing the calming warmth that flooded me when I did.

“Um, I also would like to apologize, Virgil. I did not realize that waking you would cause such a reaction. I should have been more careful,” Logan continued after a short but tense silence. At his apology, I couldn’t take it anymore. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

“Aren’t—Aren’t you gonna say something? A-About this?” I stammered out, hating how raspy and shaky my voice sounded.

“What would you like me to say, Virgil?”

I blanched at him, then glanced back at Roman who looked equally confused as I felt.

“I—Aren’t you, d-disgusted or—or something?” I pressed incredulously.

“Why would I be disgusted?” Logan questioned, tilting his head. I mirrored his look of confusion before setting my tea down lest I spill it with how much I was still shaking.

“By—By us? Or—I mean—m-maybe not disgusted but, you know, this isn’t really…accepted. I-I mean don’t you think it’s—wrong or something? I mean we’re both—and on top of that, I’m just a—I—”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted before I could work myself up too much, “I would never be disgusted by this. Any of it. By you both being of the same gender, or by you being from different social classes. I—You know that I’m your friend, right? And that I would never report you or anything? Even if I were against it, I couldn’t do that to you. I would never do that to you.”

At my shocked expression, Logan’s shoulders slumped.

“I take it you didn’t know any of that,” he sighed, looking even more miserable as I shook my head.

“I suppose that’s on me, then,” he frowned remorsefully.

“Lo,” I started, suddenly feeling guilty for ever doubting him. I never would have dreamed that he considered me a friend. I thought I was just another apprentice. He’s had plenty before me…

“No, no, I should have made it clear that I care for you,” Logan insisted. “Let me make it clear now.”

I shut my mouth and nodded for him to continue.

“Virgil, I have considered you a friend for a while now, and if you’d like, I’d still like to consider you one,”—he paused and I nodded frantically at the offer before he smiled and continued—“I care for you and your well-being very much, and I would never wish harm on you. I have no intention of ever reporting you as long as the current king is in rule. His methods and punishments tend to be a little cruel, and I never want to see you hurt. Nor will I report you for something that shouldn’t even be considered a crime. If Prince Roman is the one you love and you are the one he loves, then I support you fully. You cannot help who you fall in love with. If it is mutual and consenting, then there shouldn’t be a problem, social class or gender be damned.”

“That’s right, kiddo,” Patton spoke up stepping forward, startling me. I’d kind of forgotten he was there. I was really not on my game with being vigilant today.

“I won’t report you either. It’d be a little hypocritical of me if I did,” He smiled, shooting a quick glance to Logan. I wanted to ask him to elaborate on that last part but decided against it. I was pretty sure I got the hint, and again, it wasn’t really my business anyway.

“And I know that I haven’t known you nearly as long as Logan, but I’d like to be your friend as well if you’d like,” Patton continued, shooting me a beaming smile. I returned his smile hesitantly, though mine wasn’t nearly as big or bright. I don’t think I could fully comprehend what was happening right now. This was certainly not how I thought things would be going. Just a few minutes ago, I’d been getting ready to say goodbye to Roman forever.

“Ok, um, we—we can be friends, if, uh, you really want to,” I nodded, snorting as Patton bounced in place a bit and nodded happily. He was always so excitable, I couldn’t help but grin.

“You—You really won’t report us?” Roman assured, arms tightening around me slightly, “Either of you?”

“Of course not, My Prince,” Logan confirmed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness,” Patton chimed in.

“Please, just Roman is fine.”

Patton grinned at him and nodded, while Logan just raised an eyebrow.

“Alright then, now that that’s been settled, may I ask what you two are doing in the clinic in the first place? Is something wrong?” Logan inquired, studying the two of us.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s a bit risky to be cuddling out in the open like this, even if it was pawsitively adorable,”—Patton giggled at his own pun— “Wouldn’t it be safer in your room, Roman? Or somewhere hidden?”

“Ah, well—” I glanced back at Roman and at his reluctant nod, began explaining.

“Princey, er, Roman sneaked off to take part in stopping the raid on the nearby town and came back with a stab wound. He wouldn’t let me take him to you, Lo, trust me I tried,” I grumbled, taking a second to glare at Roman which he promptly ignored, “so, I tried to tend to it myself. I, uh, I guess I didn’t do very well. It got infected. Then I tried to fix it, but when I went to check on him this morning it was even worse, and he had a fever and ended up passing out. I managed to get him here and tried the best I could with mending it an everything, but uh, if you could take a look…”

Logan nodded at my request, and I scrambled out of Roman’s lap as he bent down to pull up his shirt. He quickly undid the bandages I’d wrapped and started examining it, asking what medications and ointments I’d used as he went.

“Well, you’ve done a remarkable job at cleaning the infection as far as I can tell. You gave him all the correct medicines and ointments as well. The stitching is also very well done. Keep in mind, Virgil, that the infection may not have been caused by you or by improper care. It could be internal body bacteria, or the fact that you did the stitches in an unsterilized environment under what sounds like not ideal conditions. All things considered, you did everything right,” Logan commended before leaning back and turning to address both me and Roman. I felt the knot in my chest lessen even more at his words even as I blushed at the praise.

“All you can do now is monitor the infection and keep it clean and dry and change the bandages often. Also be sure to avoid scratching at the stitches. They may begin to itch, especially because of the infection. I’d recommend avoiding heavy physical labor that could stretch or break the stitches as well. If you need an excuse, come find me and I’ll be more than happy to write you a note or talk to your father myself. You’ve suffered a very bad fever after all, even collapsing from it. I’m sure I could convince him you need bedrest,” he instructed, smiling softly at both of us. I blinked at him, pretty sure I’d never seen him smile so genuinely before. Huh. Today was full of surprises.

“Oh, also, take these pills for the next week, your Highness. Your fever seems to have gone down quite a bit, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll have Virgil keep up with your infection as he’s done an excellent job already and I’m sure you’d both prefer that.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman nodded, returning Logan’s smile and taking the pills that he offered.

“And I’ve told you a million times to just call me Roman.” He added with a huff.

“And I’ve told you a million times that it’s unprofessional to address you as such,” Logan tsked, sighing as he quickly re-bandaged his wound.

“Well then don’t do it as a professional do it as a friend,” Roman shot back, making Logan pause. He slowly finished up the bandages before taking a step back and raising an eyebrow

“A friend?” he questioned, crossing his arms.

“Yes. I believe this could be the start of a great friendship, the four of us. Don’t you guys think? Besides I’ve known you for years, Logan. Plus, I’m well acquainted with Patton already, though we’ve never gotten to spend much one-on-one time together. And Virgil, well, of course, uh, you know…” Roman cleared his throat blushing a bit. “Um, anyway, it’ll be nice, don’t you think? We can all just be here and exist together. No need for formalities or regard for social status or any of that. We can all relax and be ourselves.”

Logan took a minute to think it over before sighing and nodding softly.

“I—I suppose that’s acceptable,” he agreed, “You seem to constantly land yourself in my clinic anyway; so, it’s not as if I don’t get enough of you. It would be…nice to be friends.”

“Yay! New friends! I need you to know that I already love all of you so much,” Patton cheered as Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I think you just love everyone, Patton,” I couldn’t help but snort.

“Well, maybe, but you guys are special. I can’t wait to get to know you all more,” he replied, looking fondly at Roman and Logan who were now arguing about who-knows-what.

“Yeah,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes as Roman dramatically gasped and put a hand to his chest, “Me either, Pat.” Me either

[saibug1022]

Sanders Sides Masterlist

It has been a while since I wrote for Sanders Sides but I still love it and the stuff I wrote for it so here it is! A lot of it was for prompts, in which case I'll put the prompt instead of a title.

Prinxiety

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

Fluff

Summary: The story of two theater dorks and their first kiss.

Logince

Flowers

Fluff, with a hint of hurt/comfort

Summary: Logan is a very gay disaster and completely in love. His boyfriend knew the first part, but he wasn’t supposed to know the second. Not yet. Maybe Logan should pay more attention to his surroundings.

Sunrise

Fluff

Summary: Roman is pining, plain and simple, and he is trying so incredibly hard to get something, anything, out of Logan. It happens eventually just not at all how Logan was suspecting.

Dukeceit

“You could never ruin anything.” “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.”

Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Janus is so excited for his anniversary dinner with Remus. Well, okay, excited may not be the right word, but he was happy to go out with Remus and make fun of all the rich people and dress up. Until his period reared its ugly head and triggered his dysphoria. Shit.

Roceit

One Day

Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The aftermath of Putting Others First when you're in a secret relationship...

Loceit

Allies/Friends/Lovers

Fluff

Summary: Logan prided himself on knowing many, many things. What he did not know was why on Earth Janus Schwartz insisted on following him around.

Dukexiety

Impromptu Ice Cream Dates

Fluff

Summary: Remus wants to flirt, Virgil wants to do his homework, and his email apparently wants to give him a panic attack.

Remile

Kissing on the sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft, tender. “God I love your face.”

Fluff

Summary: Remy wasn’t one for sappy hipster blog quotes but he did have one that he liked: “I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.”

“I love you, but I need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and I have to pass this test tomorrow.”

Fluff

Summary: Of course, the one time Remy tried to Study

[loganslowdown4]

Incorrect Quotes

November 2023

- January 2024

Pay It Behind

Factually Incorrect (Logan’s Bday)

Make You Cry

Milkshake. (Intruality)

The Darkness

I Made Tea

Don’t Correct Me

Upsexy

Updog (sequel)

Free Kicks (Demus)

Fluffy The Chicken (sorta logicality IQ sequel)

Chef Compliments (moceit)

Cake Punch

Gay Looks (logince)

Future Nuptials (analogical)

Cold Topic

Fix My Door (Intrulogical)

Nothing Can Cheer Me Up (prinxiety)

Heart Worm (analogical)

Glitter Inside (logince)

Leave Out The Buts

Borrow Your Best Friend (moceit)

Race Up The Stairs (prinxiety)

Pass the Salt

A Video Call (prinxiety)

Insanely Obvious Hints (Moxiety)

Mean Sides (Jan/Remy)

In The Dark (Lomoceit)

Anticipating Needs (Logince)

Principles (prinxiety)

Attic

Chores Before Whores (moceit)

Bisexual Hands (logicality)

My Job Is Sword

Stress Ball

Bored Drama

Light Me Up (royality; anxceit)

Come Out (royality)

Loud Annoying Kidnapping

Flowers For You (multi ship)

Maternal Figure/Problem Child

Bad Boys With Kittens

Everyone To Therapy! (Emile’s Birthday!)

Hugging The Ground

Wrong Lunch

Time Is A Construct (Vee’s Birthday)

Swinging At Demons

Pits Of Hell Bath Bomb

Can’t Swim

Where’s the trust?

Christmas Dinner

Straight Up Cry

Bang Your Fist Against Mine

Surgery

Never Moved So Fast

YOU’RE IN CHARGE?!

NYE Sanders Sides

Queerios

Bath Toaster

Uncooperative

Screw Me If I’m Wrong (prinxiety)

We Thought You Knew (analogical)

Irresponsible

Fell Onto His Lips (logince)

[grungeeuvu]

A through Z (minus the ones you've already answered)

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

My favourite ship at the moment is FengQing (Feng Xin X Mu Qing from TGCF) and I am constantly talking @astrowaffles 's ear off about them. Platonically, I'm always mentally ill about the Shiratorizawa team and how they all support each other. Family-wise, I can't get Shen Twin aus out of my head

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

Yaku and Suga from Haikyuu, both platonic and romantic :) I think either way would be really sweet and funny

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Shiragoshi. I see no appeal in it for either of them and it kinda just gives me the ick

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Anything with Karasuno first years that aren't the stereotypical main ships except maybe Yamahina. Idk I just feel like Tsuki x either of the volleyball idiots would go terribly and someone would end up getting hurt.

Also, Yachi is very much a lesbian to me and I'm taking that to the grave 🫡

Also, kawagata doesn't click with me. I prefer reongata, since they're both third years and at least had dialogue with each other

For a non Haikyuu pairing, I've got to say giyushino or shinogiyu - I don't know if it's hinted canon or just widely popular but I really can't care for it. I don't hate it, I just have no interest

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

I haven't altered the fandom with it but I made #RichPrinceFuckerVirgil a trend with my friends back in 2019

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

The timeline gets a bit confuddled here but my first otp was either prinxiety (Roman X Virgil from Sanders Sides) or klance (Keith X Lance from VLD)

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

I scoped out the Skulduggery Pleasant fandom and I'm not planning on going back (which sucks because the books are amazing)

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Either Zuko, Tsukki, Mu Qing, or Ming Fan (can you tell I'm a fan of grouchy people with the ability to do good?)

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

As someone very neutral over Asahi, I really have to say that he is portrayed as the ace amazingly. Even though he isn't the main character and can't score all the epic points, he's still an inherently powerful force and you always trust in him when the ball goes his way, as this viewer.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Feng Xin :)

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

Reincarnation fics (TGCF)

Multi-chap AU fics (Haikyuu)

ObaMitsu content (KNY)

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

The song "Black Sheep" by Gin Wigmore reminds me of Hua Cheng/TGCF calamities :))

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

Sendai Frogs as a forced together bounty hunting crew in a space au that becomes found family 💪

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

DSMP/MCYT - after Technoblade sadly passed away and then the finale was handled so clumsily, I just couldn't bother with it anymore. However, I still watch a lot of those YouTubers today, like Tommyinnit and Jack Manifold :)

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Shiratorizawa Third Years for the win!!!!

@/baguantte has an AMAZING piece of fanart for all of them which I regularly return to look at :))

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Shen Yuan was chronically ill before he transmigrated and he died not just due to choking but because a seizure happened during his rage-eating. We know he's an unreliable narrator, hence why he never mentions this - he hated being ill and felt ashamed by it, so he never wants to think about it now he's no longer sick.

A prompt for this could be Shen Qingqui gets wife plotted and the consequence is far too similar to how he lived his old life that he keeps nearly breaking over it. Could lead to an identity reveal or just some good ol' hurt/comfort

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Yamagata has clinical depression. Idrk where this came from but it's something I very much stand by and have lots of interlocking ideas with so, yeah, no one is changing my mind on that.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Mu Qing (TGCF/Heaven Official's Blessing) - he's my favourite because of his complicated character. He says negative things, the rumours about him is how he is cold and unkind, yet we see his actions and behaviour portrayed very differently. He's a truly complicated guy.

Goshiki Tsutomu (Haikyuu) - I've written an essay on him which I now cannot find??? I'll have to fish it out but basically he's a really well written character whom performs so hard despite the anxiety he's visibly under being in such an infamous team

Shen Yuan (SVSSS/Scum Villain's Self Saving System) - he's a nerd who died and is now a hot guy but has the nerve to complain about it, he's just like me and I love that.

V - Which character do you relate to the most?

It sounds dramatic and emo as fuck, but Mu Qing. I just get him on a very deep level.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Major Character Death or just Character Death in general - I always find it very cheap or unfulfilling. To get me on board with Major Character Death takes a LOT

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

The Girlboss X Malewife ship - I don't mind the genders, I don't care for dynamics... if that ship is in there, it's likely to be my favourite!! See FengQing and KyouHaba for reference lol

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

Bnha, Bungo Stray Dogs and a bit of Mob Psycho

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

AHHHHH OKAY UHHH I accidentally got my mother into not just Haikyuu and Demon Slayer but also TGCF?? We've been watching The Untamed together too - she really wants me to read her manga series Boys Over Flowers and I've been meaning to haha

[naminethewriter]

Brothers and Secrets Masterpost

Welcome to my story for @ts-storytime this year! This is a story about brothers and keeping secrets, unsurprisingly. There will be comedy, a bit of drama, many mysteries and a few confrontations. The main focus is on the twins with Intrulogical, Queerplatonic Moceit, background Remile and hints of Prinxiety. I hope you enjoy 🥰

Summary: Remus set out on his backpacking trip across Europe with a route in mind but no set time frame. So when he suddenly calls Roman as he's about to go to bed and demands to be picked up from the airport, Roman is rightfully caught off guard. As it turns out, Remus has experienced more in those two years than his brother had thought, not only getting himself a boyfriend but also a house to live in with said boyfriend.

There are many things Roman finds suspicious about this new set of circumstances and as time goes on, the mysteries pile on. Remus is hiding something, but what? And how will his secrets impact not only Roman's life but that of their friends Patton and Janus as well?

Story on Ao3

Chapter One: Coming Home 

Chapter Two: Tales of Europe

Chapter Three: The Mansion in the Woods

Chapter Four: More Mysteries

Chapter Five: An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter Six: Explanations

Beta read by @8beez

Thank you so much for working with me, this was a whole lot of fun 🥰

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Set Him Free (Chapter 6)

First | Previous | Next

Relationships: Slow burn prinxiety and logicality

Word Count: 1756

Summary: Roman receives info of another crime occurring nearby with a certain thief…

Notes: Thanks to all the support this has already gotten, so glad you all are liking it! I smile literally every time this is liked or reblogged, thank you so much!!!

A knock upon his door caused Roman to grumble as he was awoken from what could have been a good night’s sleep. He offered no response, hoping whoever lay behind the wooden surface would take a hint and leave.

A second series of knocking resounded within the room, Roman’s eyebrows pinching together at the troublesome sound. “What,” he spoke, words dripping with annoyance.

“Prince Roman, may I have a word with you?”

“Whatever it is can wait Logan,” Roman muttered, tunneling farther under the covers, “Is the kingdom on fire?”

“No, it is most certainly not, as we are standing safely within it.”

“Good, I see no reason to be aroused then,” he flopped back onto the pillow.

The prince recognized the sound of the door opening, and fought back the drowsy annoyance that threatened to surface within him.

This better be good, he thought, peeking out from behind the covers to glare at his advisor. Logan only sighed, clearing his throat and retrieving something from his pocket, “If I may your highness, we have received an indication of a possible offense to the law, said to occur this morning.”

Roman shot up immediately, any sense of exhaustion vanishing, “Go on…”

“Occurring around twelve o’clock yesterday afternoon, a sheet of parchment was recovered just outside of the palace gates. It appeared to be some kind of plan describing a route to a blacksmithing forge located not too far from here. Taking note of the possible accounts of thievery it seems to illustrate, I have reason to believe it may involve-”

“Virgil Rayne himself!” Roman declared, swiftly rolling out of bed and stepping into his closet.

“Yes-” Logan rolled his eyes, “That would be the someone I was about to mention before I was so eloquently interrupted.”

“Oh this is simply magnificent! I tell you, today shall be the greatest of days!”

“Possibly, though we cannot truly prove the outcome until we have experienced the full day. Honestly, how many times must I remind you of how the real world works?”

“There’s a thing called fate, Logan!”

“Ah yes, fate,” Logan deadpanned, stepping to the side as several garments were thrown from the closet, “The invisible force that definitely compels us all.”

“Just you wait!” Roman exclaimed, stepping out of the closet after finally finding the right attire, “Today is going to be full of adventures, I can feel it!”

“Adventures such as cleaning your now soiled room?” Logan lifted a clean shirt from the floor, sending Roman an expectant glance.

“That, my friend, is a task for later, right now we have a criminal to catch! Do not fret, I shall be back before you know it!” The prince crossed the room, looping a leather belt satchel around his waist and practically tripping over himself as he strode to the doorway. Logan attempted to follow, but was stopped as the door was shut in his face.

The advisor frowned as the door was opened again to reveal a red faced Roman who was attempting to stumble out several apologies.

Logan simply smirked at the prince’s stammering, stepping past the doorway and taking the lead to the main corridor. Roman took the hint once Logan had made it several doors ahead, rushing to keep up.

They arrived at the queen’s study, Logan raising his fist to knock upon the door. Though as he observed the prince’s fidgeting, he allowed his hand to slip to his side, flashing Roman a reassuring smile. “Go,” he said, “I will handle informing the queen.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am certain. Now I suggest you hurry along as Virgil may already be on his way to steal yet another article.”

“Alright,” Roman spun on his heels, the longing for adventure now filling his veins.

“Oh, and one final thing, your highness?” Logan reached out, regaining the prince’s attention, “Do be safe out there. I know you have been told this this many times, but it would be beneficial if you could decrease your mother’s worry. Not to mention that even Patton and I manage to become tense when your returns are delayed.”

Something flashed in Roman’s head, they really did care. He allowed a small smile to creep upon his face, differing from the usual grin that occupied his expressions, “You have my word, I shall remain cautious.”

“I bid you a temporary farewell then.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” Roman gave an elegant wave, Logan rolling his eyes in response. Next thing he knew, the kingdom doors were behind him.

Brisk autumn winds flooded his senses once he cleared the palace gates, and Roman couldn’t help but be delighted by his surroundings. The sounds of soft chatter and the clattering of horse drawn carts left the streets a bustling marvel, awakening with the morning sky.

The lines of delicate shops and conversing villagers enticed him, and he soon found himself sauntering closer towards society, though the queen’s voice rang deep within his mind.

You shall not encounter any of those less than us. They are cruel individuals who simply seek what we have. Give them an inch and they will pry at you until you crumble, just as they did with your father.

The prince shook his head, turning away. What did his mother know anyway?

Quite a lot it seemed, as she had managed to govern the kingdom on her own for eleven years. The corners of his mouth edged downward, his eyes trailing to the ground. Just another chainlink, pulling him away from normalcy. It didn’t have to be that way though.

Regaining focus, Roman found his way to the recovered slip of paper. The slanted handwriting had already been imprinted in his mind, leaving him now only needing to find the forge within the buzzing street.

One after the other, he glanced within windows and doorways, searching for any possible sign of disturbance.

The forge came into view. Crashes of cold metal colliding with anvils resided in the air, seeming to fill the area in a thunderous daze. A sharp sense of iron occupied the space, accompanied by future swords and arrowheads, all glowing a brilliant red.

The prince made his way through the various worktables, treading with a valorous stance. Several smith’s scowled in his direction, eyes growing wide once they recognized who was roaming through their shop.

Roman allowed himself to be slightly entertained by the people’s reactions to royalty. He sent smiles and winks while he passed the workers, having to quickly remind himself that he was here for a reason other than charming those around him.

Roman reached the rear of the building, rotating around to take in a full view of the establishment. Beads of sweat had managed to find a way down his forehead, an unfortunate symptom of entering a structure full of fires and red-hot metal.

He was not one to doubt Logan’s hypotheses, yet nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. How unfortunate. The prince walked along the side wall, eyes downcast. But no sooner had he crossed the main forge when a shadow darted across his vision.

Roman’s head shot up immediately, just in time to see a form dash out into the streets.

The prince desperately attempted to contain his excitement, eyes narrowing eagerly as he followed the darkened figure. One step and he was off, chasing nothing but a blur within the crowds.

The streets were aroused with the morning light, more people flooding into the cobblestone paveways with each second. Roman pushed through the cliques of villagers, shouting frantic apologies behind his shoulder as he ran.

There was no time for the usual pleasantries, not when achieving success was mere yards away. He followed the shadow in the distance, watching as the thief cloaked in black struggled to make his way through the crowds. Roman smiled. This was all too easy.

Taking in short puffs of air, he summoned his last bouts of stamina and made a break for it.

Puddles splattered under the soles of his boots, sending splashes of rainwater into the air whilst filling the prince with even more exhilaration. Roman allowed himself to laugh, fantasizing of what would come next. His mother wouldn’t know what to say when he returned home with such a victory. Logan would surely be surprised, and Patton would begin cheering the moment Roman entered the castle gates. Everything would be different- even better than before, and it was all thanks to that lovely letter. One so delicately placed at just the right time.

The one clothed in black and violet rounded the corner, and Roman’s anticipation only grew. He accompanied the thief, sprinting into the darkened silhouettes of the alleyway.

It was as if a switch had flipped, transforming the ever present chitter of the markets into an eerie silence. All accompanied by a dark shroud. Roman glanced around, eyebrows furrowed. The thief was nowhere to be seen, though he couldn’t have simply vanished- could he?

“Virgil, you are required by law to reveal yourself! I’m sure I need not remind you that you are still a wanted fugitive.”

He stepped forward, trying to make out the shapes within the shade of the alleyway. His senses defied him, clouded with the unknown. It was all terribly unsettling. Everything about his surroundings screamed trouble, and wasn’t so sure he favored that.

A disturbance within the stillness reached Roman’s ears, though he couldn’t tell whether his mind was simply playing games. Roman narrowed his eyes, removing the dagger he kept at his side from its scabbard.

Never had he been more thankful for Logan’s insistence on always carrying a weapon, though at this moment he greatly longed for his sword. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” Roman announced, “Reveal yourself, or face the consequences.”

The tapping of footsteps echoed behind him, and Roman whipped around, dagger drawn.

Nothing.

No indication of movement or even a mere whisper. He stepped back. Surely he wasn’t imagining things- no, there had to be someone…

The back of his head erupted in pain, sending him reeling. Knees buckling, he fell to the ground, grimacing as his body hit hard stone. The dagger clattered to the ground, resounding within Roman’s ears like a thunderclap.

He desperately attempted to steady himself, but stumbled with shallow breaths. A swift kick to his head sent a stabbing pain through his body, causing him to crumple to the ground once more. Glancing up weakly, three figures appeared in his vision before he slipped out of consciousness.

[tss-storytime-summaries]

40

Expected Rating: Teen

Warnings: Toxic Romantic Relationship, Alcoholism, Character Death, Slightly Unsympathetic Roman, Hinted at abuse? (Maybe, not fully sure if this will be part of the story yet), Suicidal and depressive themes/ideologies, Roman, Remus, and Virgil angst, Arguing, Cursing, Toxic Familial Relationship, Mental disorders? (May have to add or remove some trigger warnings as I actually start writing)

Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Emile, Remy, Logan, and Patton.

Romantic Relationships: Prinxiety, Past Roceit

Summary: Roman can’t remember the last time he genuinely smiled or laugh. Life felt like nothing more than a vicious cycle. Every day blurring into one another. All unnecessarily meaningless and exhausting.

The world saw him as nothing more than a piece of entertainment. One of the most successful upcoming actors and singers. Another pretty face to envy on the other side of the tv screen. An untouchable being.

His boyfriend and brother saw him as nothing more but a shell of his former self. A soulless body that once housed an energetic, fun-loving, and caring guy. A painful reminder of how a rose withers over time. A once warm and inviting heart now cold and callous.

Roman doesn’t know how long he’ll continue surviving this way. His heart aches to feel again. He wants to love the only two people who are still by his side no matter how awful he is. All he needs is a meaning. But he doesn’t know if he’ll ever find it.