Hello everyone!! ---- This is an account dedicated to Prinxiety! everything Roman and Virgil for one week only! ---- Event Dates: June 1- June 7th ---- header image by @standingonborderline !!?
Hello to all! A masterpost with the rules and info for this event has arrived! This post will be pinned for easy reference, and feel free to send asks if anything is unclear! This post will be updated as necessary.
The dates for this event: June 1st - June 7th!!!
Prompts:
Storms | Karma
Museum | Spirit
Sunshower | Reincarnation
Roman's Birthday! | Pride | Cliché
Picnic | Devotion
Distance | Roadtrip
Married life | Lavender
Setting Prompts: Mecha, Omegaverse, Historical, Post-apocalyptic, 1960s, Fantasy, Space
Rules/Info:
1. This account will be SFW only. No NSFW works will get reblogged, but feel free to still create them and tag my main! NSFW works may still be added to the AO3 collection, as long as they are correctly tagged.
2. Please do your best to tag correctly, especially with TW/CWs,
3. Make sure to mention this account ( @prinxietyweek ) in any posts and tag #prinxietyweek2026 in your posts so that I don't miss anything
4. Any kind of fanwork is accepted! Writing, art, video/photo editing animations, cosplay, etc, as long as it centres around prinxiety.
5. Have fun, use common sense, and respect everyone else!
Introduction:
Hi! I'm the mod/organiser here! You can call me Rowan or Prince. I'm 20+ and use any pronouns. My main blog is @prince-rowan-of-the-forest , and I'm super excited to be running this!!!
Other stuff:
If this post seems familiar it's because I stole it from @anaroceitweek , which I'm also running, go check that out if you like Anaroceit, by the way.
He’d spend most of April tucked away in his room with the curtains drawn to wait it out, wincing at every roll of thunder while his brothers ventured out into it to explore into the puddles that appeared, much to the anguish of their father. Though they were always back before the puddles dried up.
Not Roman. And not because he didn’t also wish to explore beyond their bubble. He just didn’t like the feeling of rain pinging off of his perpetually damp skin, gradually coating him in its protective layer.
As he got older and more in-tuned with his abilities, he learned that the rain could be a comfort. Especially after meeting Virgil.
Virgil, who was alluring enough to draw even Roman out into the rain to see him…and Roman was apparently the only one who could see him.
Virgil had seemed surprised to see Varshi like Roman, and Roman was perplexed by how solid he was. It was no wonder the rain ran right off of him, despite the presence of magic surrounding him.
Virgil who invited Ro to see more of his world.
They couldn’t talk at first— Roman didn’t know how to the same way Virgil and people like Virgil did, but he did like to listen to Virgil do so. Virgil’s voice was soothing and steady…the syllables and sounds were strange and different from a spirit of the water like himself.
Virgil’s sound was smooth and unhurried like the underground winds in deep caves. He had different sound waves that reverberated through Roman pleasantly, more intensely than the steady hum and patter of his father in their bubble.
Roman sat with him on the back tailgate of what Virgil said was his “station wagon”. He called it the old Misery Machine (and Missy…or Miser). When Roman understood what that meant and was concerned, though, Virgil assured him it was just a reference to something he liked. Roman had to wonder why until Virgil played a new song for him, and then he understood.
He eventually was able to tell Roman more about it: he’d saved up to trade for it with the help of his own sibling, Jay. Roman thought it would be nice to introduce his siblings to Virgil one day. They’d definitely get along with him.
.
.
.
The early puddles always seemed to guide Roman right to Virgil.
It was always raining when he went there, too, which was what connected their realms, he thought. After the first two times, Virgil was always waiting for him, with a new strange beautiful sound to play for him. Sometimes he brought food, but they quickly learned Roman couldn’t actually consume it. That was fine with him. He still liked to sit with Virgil and play with the rain as Virgil sheltered beside him under the back covering of Missy.
Roman liked when Virgil’s wheel home moved while he was visiting. Roman sat in the seat across from him and just admired the passing landscape with the window down. Fields of spikey blaze bushes that looked like they were burning brightly, shimmering in the light despite the gentle rainfall forecasted. Stocky red vines as big as trees reaching up into the clouds with massive umbrella leaves. Weaving through mossy boulders that looked like they had been placed there by giants a millennia ago. Rolling fields of lavender bunches that stretched to the horizon and beyond it, probably.
Often following the fleeting rain to stay together just a little bit longer, until they reached the rain shadow of the mountains or the sea.
No matter how far they drove, they never met the end of the world. Roman’s own world felt so small now. Smaller than it had ever been, since prior, it had been all that existed in the limits of his mind. But here was so vast and beautiful. Roman marveled at it all, wishing they could stay for longer than they had.
He wanted to see all of it. He also never wanted to find the end of new places and people and sights. Every trip was uniquely memorable. He wanted to stay and see it all in wide-eyed wonder. He wanted to linger on the moments with Virgil, his growing affection uncontained nor quantifiable. He just knew it was at least as expansive as the world was, with all his memories.
Roman looked at it all with the window down to be part of it. He let the wind fly wildly across him, refreshing from all the stillness he was so used to at home. Freeing from always just looking out through a contorted view before now. He grinned.
Virgil didn’t seem to ever mind the rain sometimes getting in. Roman stuck his hand out to feel this world’s rain collect and pool around his hand like a glove. He smiled at the odd cool blob sticking to him, it reverberating the melodic sounds of the vehicle softly against him. It felt relaxing against his face and body, and Roman liked to be near it as it played, memorizing vibrations.
Usually Virgil’s humming matched the wagon’s and Roman liked to hear it even more. He tried to hum too, in his own way, and Virgil flashed a rare big smile that Roman wanted to keep seeing more. Especially directed at him.
He let Virgil feel the water pooling against his hand, and held Virgil’s hand experimentally. The water bent around it, then absorbed Virgil’s hand as it seemed determined to keep its blobby form, wiggling around their intertwined fingers. It eventually deformed and gave up, running down Virgil’s arm in a soaked mess on his sleeves. Roman tilted his head at his Virgil seemed surprised they could touch at all.
Virgil didn’t let go, though, and Roman appreciated the height that allowed him to lean in and rest his head on Virgil’s shoulder. It always left Virgil’s shirts and jackets damp, but once they’d parked on a mountain road overlooking a gently swirling green lake, he said he didn’t mind. That was right before he drew Roman into a kiss for the second time that morning.
Every time it rained, Roman went to find Virgil.
And more often than not, he was sitting in his metal wagon home, in a brand new miraculously beautiful place that somehow was still a part of the same world that Virgil traveled, collecting and archiving in sparkly transparent jars to sell at ‘markets’. Roman got to see the markets a few times over the years. They always amazed him, but he was disappointed by how he could not take the little treasures back home with him.
Virgil kept them for him in his van and eventually was able to create a gift for Roman that didn’t fall away or get damaged when he passed back through the puddles: a waterdrop necklace, imbued with Virgil’s magic. Each of the sparkling 8 beads showed a looping image of Virgil’s world that he had been to with Roman. Roman never took it off.
Perhaps Roman was just young and foolish and in love for the first time, but he’d never been more grateful to find someone to spend time with. Time no longer cooped up in his room, but instead sitting in the sunlight as the rain pattered on, pushing it once the sky cleared for just long enough to admire it and how Virgil’s smile seemed even more stunning under light of the moon and stars.
He didn’t like to leave Virgil, but they were from very different worlds. And never the less, he looked forward to seeing him again every time it rained. Roman would never stop visiting him, and had never missed a chance to see him. And Virgil never grew tired of him, or asked him to visit less. He seemed just as glad to see Roman…he wondered why Virgil was never with anyone, over the years. Not even his family when Roman was around.
But Virgil never talked about them except in vague, past tense terms, and Roman didn’t know how to ask even when he learned the words to. It at least always seemed fond when he spoke of them, if a little sad. Roman would sit closer in quiet support each time. Roman would be there for him as much as he could, then. Perhaps he could find a way to not be bound to the rain alone. It had to be possible.
But until they figured it out, Roman was happy to be a traveler between worlds, looking out for Virgil for them. Making sure he wasn’t always alone between his brief visits into the various beautiful and unusual cities of his world. And Roman was less lonely now too, as it was almost always raining somewhere else. He wondered if Virgil chased the rain, with how often Ro found him in it. He liked to think it was so they could see each other again, for as long as the water covered the lush and parched earth.
Roman loved the sound of a storm brewing, because now it meant he’d see his wonderful water witch again.
————
A/N: “When it rains” by Paramore. Song about someone “confronting a person who has isolated themselves in depression and consistently avoids facing their problems or accepting support.”
I fought for my life on every little break I had from work to get this done 😂 i started a new job with 10 hour shifts last week, so I’ve been trying to get used to it. This is very stream-of-consciousness and probably reads like it…no beta because it was so last minute LOL. I will definitely look this over and edit it once I’m home to put on AO3, but here it is! The car name is also a Paramore Reference, vaguely (mixed with a play on “Mystery Machine”— you can guess who Virgil can thank there lmao).
Lesson learned: do not try to re-line your fic on tumblr mobile once you past it in :,) very hard to undo…
And the final day is upon us! Even though the official week of the event is over, please feel welcome to continue sharing prompt fills for this event with me and tagging the blog! I'll still reblog them and have them added to the collection <3
Check out the extra prompts here! And if you're posting fic, be sure to add it to our Collection!
It's Roman's 18th birthday - or the equivilant, at least. He wants to be spending it at home, celebrating his ascension to adulthood with all of his people. Instead, he's out in space with only one other person who he's already burdened far too much.
Luckily, Virgil is pretty good at telling when Roman's having a terrible day, and even better at figuring out what to do about it.
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| Ao3 | Next -> |
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Warnings: References to past abuse/forced violence
Pairings: Prinxiety
Word Count: 3665
Notes:
Hello everyone! I'm a little late, but here's my fic for day 4 of @prinxietyweek Roman's Birthday :D
Why this au? I'm not even sure. It was just on my mind. This oneshot serves as a bit of prequel to Trust My Word, so you don't need to read that fic first to read this one! Though you can read it afterwards <3 I also plan to write a precurser and follow ups to this one explaining how Roman got here with Virgil and how he gets back to his planet and everything, there's actually a lot I'd like to write for this au that's been brewing for a while. This one's set before they end up romantically involved, but to be clear they both have the biggest crush on each other, don't you fret.
I also want to tag @thatdesolatefander , since this is an expansion of a fic I wrote for you during the sleepy bean cafe event. I wasn't sure if you'd want me to gift it to you on ao3, but I would be down to if you'd like it <3
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It was Roman's birthday.
Roman's 18th birthday - in universal rotations. The day that marked him as an adult, and the day that marked him an on-planet decade before he would ascend to the throne, and around two universal rotations. The numbers weren't exactly right, but doing the conversions properly made his head hurt. It had already taken him long enough to learn the standard Galactic language, let alone standard Galactic maths. He hadn't even planned on being out here for long enough to even have a birthday.
Yet, here he was, squashed in his tiny little cubbyhole bedroom on this two being ship he'd been living on for about half a rotation now. It didn't exactly do his feathers any favours, they were still all crumpled and dull, but at least they were growing back at all. It proved, at least, that this uncomfortable way of living was better than that awful place he'd been trapped in, even if he already knew that for a myriad of other reasons.
It didn't matter, his wings hadn't been stretched in so long, he couldn't even stand at full height in this place and he was terrified now to go planet side.
On top of all that, it was his birthday.
If he were at home, they'd be celebrating. There would be festivals in his honour across the planet. He'd be preparing his ceremonial robes and maybe causing some kind of mischief with Remus before the royal feasts. It was Remus' birthday today too, after all. Roman wondered if they'd be doing the festivals for him instead.
Probably not. Roman's people didn't like Remus much, even if he'd claimed him as a brother right out of the nest.
But instead of grand parties, flying over the towers of his palace with Remus, watching dramatic aerial shows, dancing, performing his rituals or feasting in celebration, he was in his tiny room, alone.
He hadn't gone out once since he'd woken up with the lights. It had been long enough since Roman had woken up comfortable that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Unfortunately, there were days he did remember. And days like this, where he should be experiencing the most lavish of luxuries, were the ones that made him remember the days where the joints in his wings and arms and legs didn't always ache from the bed that wasn't built to hold them.
The beds at home were built to accommodate things like his wings. The beds here weren't even built to accommodate a being with a heavy solid mass, considering his host was not one.
Virgil was lovely, and Roman wouldn't trade him for the world, but their species being so different meant that Roman was slightly... lacking in things he might need on the small ship from Virgil's home planet. Like space to easily fit through the doors, or room to sleep without having to curl up like he was dead.
Every measure that could be taken had been, and Roman thought Virgil was ever so gracious for finding him pillows and blankets planet side and giving up his bunk to give Roman even a little more room, plus the privacy he so desperately craved. Virgil had claimed he didn't need the dedicated space as badly when Roman had protested, and more than once Roman had seen him curled up asleep in the chair of the navigation pod instead. He'd always claimed it was comfortable enough when Roman checked in. He was kind to a fault, but kindness could only really go so far in a world that wasn't built for Roman whatsoever. He could only do so much.
Roman hadn't told him that it was his birthday. The Fiehlin had done so much for him already, he didn't need to weigh him down with his misery. He was already struggling to be the most princely version of himself he could be for his rescuer at the best of times, but today? Today would be the worst.
And Roman already knew there wasn't much Virgil could even do, even if Roman was sure he would offer.
There was a little gentle chime that Roman recognised by now as the equivalent of a knock on the door. Roman sighed softly, pushing himself up from the bed and shaking out his feathers, he glanced in the tiny wall mirror to make sure the feathery plumes and fronds on his forehead didn't show obvious signs of his moping in bed. He didn't have time to preen his wings like he'd normally spend hours doing for the celebrations, so he knew he looked a mess anyway. At least he could try and play it off like he'd been doing anything other than laying curled up in bed.
The chime rang again, and Roman took a deep breath before pressing the button to allow the door to slide open to show Virgil ripple backwards. Virgil's large eyes blinked at him, clearly taking him in in that hyper-perceptive way he always did.
"Hello Virgil," Roman said, trying to puff out his chest, though his heart just wasn't in it, "Lovely seeing you today, what brings you here?"
"Um," Virgil said, wiggling a little, "I just haven't seen you all cycle, I wanted to know if you were okay."
"Oh! Why yes, I'm perfectly okay," Roman said, trying to force his many fronds to perk up to show just how okay he was, "Apologies, I was just... um, getting ready! For the day!"
The obvious lie fell flat. Virgil's form tilted like Roman's head did when he was trying to puzzle something out and his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
"If you just woke up, you can tell me, Roman," Virgil said, though he didn't seem completely sure in his guess. Roman sighed.
"I haven't just woken up," Roman said, deflating, "I just... never got up when I did."
Virgil made a noise that was kind of a trilling squeak, "You should eat something."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're clearly not, Ro," Virgil huffed, "I've haven't seen you so messy since we started travelling together."
"I'm sorry?" Roman said, running his hands over the feathers on his arms and trying not to bite his lip as he processed the ball of shame that statement ignited in his chest.
"I didn't mean it like that," Virgil said quickly, "Just - you usually preen yourself a lot before I ever get to see you, especially after- whatever, it doesn't matter, just- you gotta eat, it's almost midway through the cycle."
Roman sighed, looking away as Virgil inched closer, nudging Roman in the direction of their small galley kitchen. Roman took a deep breath, and followed Virgil's gentle direction.
By the time he'd gathered his breakfast of meats together, Virgil had gone and set the ship on autopilot and returned. The entire time he'd been staring at Roman with expressions ranging from contemplative to confused. Roman couldn't quite understand what exactly he was thinking about.
Roman finished the breakfast he didn't particularly feel like eating and they came face to face again. Finally, Virgil seemed willing to share the thoughts that must be racing around his head.
"You're quiet," Virgil said, after a deep breath, "Usually mealtimes are more social for you - did you have a nightmare or something?"
"No," Roman shook his head, now holding onto a pot of steaming tea made from the closest thing Virgil could find to the flavours he'd described for their traditional breakfast drink, his claws tapping against the material repeatedly, "I didn't have a nightmare."
"...Is- did something trigger you?" Virgil asked, voice gentle and eyes narrowed again. His shadowy form was rippling in agitation. Not knowing what was wrong with Roman was clearly bothering him but he couldn't quite force the words out of his mouth to explain.
"No," Roman said, refusing to meet Virgil's eyes as he stared down into the ripping liquid, his sharp teeth tugging at his lip, "it's not anything bad, I promise, it's just kind of stupid."
"I'm sure it's not," Virgil said, "You want a hug?"
"A hug?" Roman asked, surprised enough to look up at Virgil.
"Supposedly my kind are pretty good at them," Virgil said, "Because of the uh- the formlessness?"
Roman couldn't help but smile at him, "Okay- I don't.... I don't really know what that'll be like but... I'm willing to try it?"
"You've never been hugged?"
"I- well- it's sort of traditional that I'm not to be touched by anyone," Roman said, "So no-one ever did, back home, and definitely not in a formlessness way."
"Oh... well if I shouldn't- I won't cross a boundary or anything."
Roman shook his head sadly, "Virgil, I think I'm well past the point of never being touched at this point. You rescued me from a fighting ring, I'm sure a hug won't break me."
Blinking twice, Virgil fell almost completely still for a moment. Roman didn't usually bring up the way he'd been rescued so bluntly. Usually he preferred to skirt around it and make it seem more dramatic than it was in the process. Virgil never brought it up unless he did, as if he was terrified that talking about it would have Roman breaking down.
"So... you would like a hug?" Virgil asked eventually, voice wavering. Roman nodded, his feathers puffing up more naturally this time. Virgil moved forwards slowly, and when he was close enough he quite literally melted into Roman. The almost liquid quality of his body enveloping him and providing a gentle, cool weight with a slight clinging sensation, while what must be a more solid part of his body wound up pressed against his back, between his wings, forming a comforting weight.
Virgil may appear small when he's just existing, but Roman had seen just how far he could stretch himself. Right now it allowed him to become the perfect blanket. Roman quickly found he never wanted Virgil to let go of him.
Of course, eventually, he had to. Once Roman had finally relaxed and stopped looking so droopy, Virgil melted back off of him, reforming into his normal shape and giving Roman a look as if to ask 'are you better now?'
"Thank you, Virgil," Roman said, bowing to Virgil in order to express his gratitude properly, "That truly helped a lot."
"Will you tell me what was bothering you, now?" Virgil asked, "You don't have to - if you don't want - it's just... good to talk about stuff sometimes, and I'll be here if you need to."
"You'll think it's silly," Roman said, sighing as he looked away once more.
"I won't," Virgil said, bobbing closer again, "And even if I do I promise I won't poke fun."
Roman hummed. That much was far better than nothing.
"It's... my birthday," Roman admitted, "It would be a big one back home, and I... feel a little- I don't know, lonely?"
"Oh... Ro that's not silly at all, you idiot," Virgil said, his whole form shaking in irritation, "You're homesick, that's normal, dude. You've been away from them, like, two whole universal rotations by now. How many years is that on your planet?"
"Near enough to a decade," Roman admitted meekly, "I don't wish to do the math."
"Fuck," Virgil said softly, "You've missed so many, then?"
"We only properly celebrate every five years, since our years are quite fast," Roman said, "They'd lose their novelty otherwise."
"Still," Virgil said, "That's - what, four celebrations?"
"Three, including this one," Roman said. He'd thought about this far too much. Virgil came forward and reattached himself to Roman's arm. The comfort flowed through him easily.
"And this one would've been important?"
"It would've marked my ascension to adulthood, officially," Roman said, "The entire planet would've been celebrating."
"I- wow, that's uh- that's a lotta people," Virgil laughed, the sound stilted and nervous. Virgil wasn't very open about his home life, similar to Roman in that regard, but Virgil wasn't anyone important back home, not in the way Roman was or anything like it. Roman was a prince. Destined to rule their planet in only a few decades.
"I was wondering what they might think happened to me," Roman admitted, "I don't know if they'd still celebrate, hoping for my return, or use it for a day of mourning instead."
"You didn't tell anyone you were leaving?" Virgil asked.
"For them to stop me? Of course I didn't," Roman shook his head, "My brother is the only one who knew."
"I'm so sorry," Virgil said softly, "I know we don't have a planet of people here to celebrate you, but... is there anything we can do?"
Roman had known he would ask, and at first it did send the expected stab of disappointment through him.
"I don't know what we could do," Roman admitted, "At home it's all - big parties and extravagant food and festivals, we only have two of us - and you can't even fly. Neither of us can in this ship. I can't even expect you to have a gift for me, when i never told you - besides, I'd never ask that of you, you've already done too much for me."
Roman saw Virgil's eyes go to Roman's wings and then back to his face.
"If I can find you a gift, I will, but there's really nothing we can do as two of us?" Virgil asked, tilting his form again, "Like - any activities you'd normally do? If there's really nothing, we could… maybe we could make up our own? Or I can tell you some of the things my people do and see if any of those appeal to you?"
Make up our own. Roman hummed in thought. He liked that idea. He liked the idea of hearing what Virgil's people might do, too. Right now, though, he'd been given an idea. An embarrassing one, but an idea nonetheless
"Do you have music?" Roman asked, folding into himself a little as he said it, with his wings curling protectively around his body. Virgil let out a contemplative hum at the question.
"I think so," Virgil said, "I dunno if it'll be any good to you, though."
"Can we try it?" Roman asked, feeling a little more hopeful, "and maybe dance a little?"
Virgil's eyes closed and his form expanded outwards for a moment, before shrinking back into itself as if he were taking a long, deep breath. "I'll see what I've got. If I haven't got anything that's danceable, we'll stop off and look for something next time we're in range - is that okay?"
"That's okay," Roman agreed, "Oh, thank you, thank you, we would've danced to played music at festivals back at home, so… maybe if we dance together, it'll be fun."
"Don't thank me," Virgil said, even as he turned away to head towards the navigation room of their ship, "I haven't found anything yet."
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None of Virgil's music was anything Roman was even remotely familiar with, but a lot of it had enough rhythm to dance to, and Roman found he actually quite liked the sounds once he got more used to them.
Virgil was odd to dance with. It had taken them a long while to find a way that worked for both of their bodies, being so different. Roman's tendrils could sway, though, and Virgil's form could make the approximation of limbs to hold Roman's hands, and it was so much better than nothing that Roman had almost been brought to tears twice.
After they'd gotten tired from dancing, they'd sat together in the common area, with Roman sitting and Virgil draped across him like a blanket after Roman had admitted just how comforting he found the position.
"So… what would I be doing today if I was a Fiehlin," Roman asked, curiosity reignited after their afternoon had actually turned out to be enjoyable.
"Mm," Virgil hummed, blinking his eyes open and shifting so that his eyes appeared at Roman's shoulder, "Well- You'd have picked out a place you wished to live earlier - most of us would stay on the same brach as our families. You'd spend the morning digging it out with your family and friends - usually a lot of Fiehlin."
"Digging it out?" Roman asked.
"Mhm - my people all live underground in a giant cave system. It's very nice and dark."
Roman hummed a soft laugh, of course a shadow based people would enjoy the dark.
"So… you dig out your own cave to live in?"
"Yep, usually you'd have worked together to design it, that's probably what I'd be doing if I was planet side right now, since my birthday is in a few sets." Virgil explained. Roman briefly wondered if Virgil would be going back to do all of that - it sounded important - but he brushed past it before Roman could ask, "But anyway, you'd all dig it out, and once that's done you'd get gifts from everyone - most often things for your home, or food - and then you'd all decorate and eat together in your new home."
"That sounds really lovely," Roman said softly, sure his fronds were glowing brightly now with his joy.
"It is, yeah, especially when you have lots of people," Virgil said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice, "Usually it would end in a big cuddle puddle with your whole family and friends - since we have such big families, there's usually a big cave the whole family uses communally, so it would happen there if you don't all fit in your new cave."
"I only have my brother," Roman admitted, "I do have other nestmates, but my brother and I were separated from them early, so I don't know them personally."
Virgil gave an upset little jitter at that information.
"Don't you have parents?"
"Well… no, it doesn't really work like that for our people," Roman admitted, "All clutches of eggs are laid in the nursery and taken care of by nurses until and after they hatch - not by their layers."
"…Oh," Virgil says softly.
"Only specific members of our species are equipped to care for young," Roman explained, "Even if near everyone is capable of egg production, so I suppose you could see it as 'parent' being a dedicated job role by those who can do it, just like I was born as a prince."
"Do you not have a royal family?"
"A what?"
"Like - I dunno, most of the time when I see aliens with a monarchy it's like a family line, but you don't have parents, so how do your people like… know?" Virgil asked. Roman hummed.
"Oh! Of course, it's because of these," Roman said, flexing and fluttering his wings a little, "I have two sets of wings, where the rest of my people only have one, it's also said that the egg I hatched from looked quite different - golden and glowing in nature."
"So it's just… random?"
"Not exactly," Roman shrugged his shoulders, "My people were aware it was coming time where a new royal would be needed, the avairans who laid my egg would've volunteered and been given some special treatment and rituals during the uh, process."
"Sounds complicated," Virgil said with a small trill, "We elect our leaders."
They quickly devolved into a much more in depth discussion of their two cultures than they'd had so far. Roman's people were private and preferred that little was known about them, but with Virgil offering information, Roman felt inclined to return the favour.
When the conversation eventually circled back around to Roman's birthday, and if he'd like to do anything else, Roman hardly had to think about it.
"Would we be able to cuddle puddle?" Roman asked, tilting his head a little, "I know I'm not liquid like you are, so it might not work, but-"
"We can," Virgil said, "I mean - we're sort of already doing it."
Roman took stock of their position. As he'd relaxed, his wings and curled up around Virgil's form where he was plastered to Roman's side, completely engulfing his arms and leaving him restricted in a way that didn't feel restricted whatsoever. He'd ended up laying down almost completely.
"Oh," Roman laughed happily, "Well it is very nice - do you think I could have dinner and we could come back? Perhaps bring out the blankets you got for me and make a proper bed out here so that I may sleep properly?"
"Yeah, we can do that," Virgil said, slowly peeling himself away from Roman so he could sit up, "Would you wanna eat together?"
Roman's wings flapped in his immediate joy at the offer, his tendrils perking up and his feathers puffing in excitement. Virgil trilled.
"I'm guessing that's a yes?"
Forcing himself to breathe, Roman calmed himself, "I- I would like that very much, but I know you don't always like seeing me eat, so you don't have to."
"I can tolerate it for one day," Virgil said, "Your teeth are just big."
Roman let out a chirping laugh, he had learned in his brief solo adventures that beings with saber teeth weren't the most common. Nor were feathered beings with a jaw full of sharp carnivorous teeth. Safe to say seeing him rip meat from a bone was a little unnerving to herbivorous beings like Virgil. Roman could appreciate what an honour Virgil was giving him by offering to eat together.
So, the two of them sat and ate a big dinner together, before dragging all of the pillows and blankets on the ship into the common space for Roman to create a makeshift kind of nest before the two of them laid down together to cuddle.
"Happy birthday, Ro," Virgil said softly, just as the two of them were about to fall asleep.
Roman hummed happily, "Thank you, Vee,"
All things considered, Roman fell asleep full and happy and not alone. It wasn't a birthday at home, but he found it was still something just as special.
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ao3: "and at any second now"
rating: T
warnings: prinxiety, pots, internalized ableism, food, crying
genre: hurt/comfort
description: Roman and Virgil go on a little picnic date at the park (prompt "picnic" for @prinxietyweek , which i totally forgot about, whoops. also lyrics from ajj "body terror song")
I'm very sorry that you have to have a body
One that will hurt you and be the subject of so much of your fear
It will betray you, be used against you
Then it will fail on you, my dear
Dread coils in every limb as Virgil gets dressed. They're supposed to have a picnic date today. The weather's projected to be warm, but not Death Valley levels, and there's supposed to be a light breeze. He's been looking forward to it for days.
And now, just getting dressed, Virgil feels like collapsing face first into his pillows and breathing in fabric for a while. His heart's racing, his head is swimming, nausea keeps surging up his throat, and despite still being half-naked, he's already hot and sweaty.
Roman's in the bathroom, so Virgil feels free to slip out their pulse oximeter, just to check. 135. Not the worst it's ever been, but it certainly matches the soup of symptom shittiness swirling around in Virgil's body.
He sits down, then after a moment of contemplation, flops back, making sure his head is on Roman's pillow so he can breathe in his partner's scent. Better. He can feel his heartbeat slowing, steadying. The dizziness is beginning to ebb and in its place, a sickly fatigue is starting to creep in.
"All I did was try to get dressed," Virgil mumbles, staring up at the ceiling, and struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He can't cry. Roman will notice. Roman might call off their picnic. Virgil doesn't want that.
Actually, if there's one thing Virgil would change about Roman, it might be that. Symptom flare, in Roman's mind, always seems to mean that Virgil should rest. That plans can be cancelled and things can be shuffled around and it's okay to take a break.
And it's not that Virgil doesn't appreciate that. Because they do! It helps knowing that Roman's not going to dismiss them when they feel like shit, or push them into overdoing it.
It just--
He wishes that Roman would let him decide that a little more. That maybe, Virgil's okay not feeling the greatest, if it means they get to do something. Either something fun, like this picnic, or something else, like an important appointment or chore.
Virgil rubs at the bridge of their nose. Of course, every time they think of bringing that up, all they can think is that they're just weighing Roman down with their disabilities. Because if they insist on powering through something when they're unwell (especially the important shit), then it takes longer. Both for the thing, and then for the aftermath. And Roman has to help him more sometimes. And he can be out of commission more, from POTS or chronic pain or migraine or whatever else. Keeping Roman from doing anything. Making himself even more of a burden.
Roman never calls him a burden, but Virgil's good at scribbling in that blank himself.
Virgil drags himself upright again, grabbing his half-empty bottle of electrolytes™ and taking a few swallows. They can do this.
They do manage to get dressed by the time Roman is out of the bathroom. Black skirt that hits a few inches above his knees, purple shirt that hides the abdominal compression, knee-high compression socks in a purple/black Halloween pattern. He's got rainbow sneakers for the outdoors, ones that always make him smile.
Roman's face lights up when he sees them, and Virgil's cheeks redden, a pleased smile turning up his mouth.
"You look gorgeous, darling!" Roman says, arms slipping around Virgil's back and pulling him closer, planting a kiss on Virgil's forehead.
"Thanks," Virgil says. He bites his bottom lip as he makes a show of looking Roman up and down. "You're pretty handsome yourself," they say lightly, tugging Roman down for a proper kiss. Roman tastes faintly of toothpaste.
"Ready, darling?" Roman asks. Virgil nods, then hesitates.
"Gotta pee again," they admit, as their face goes redder. "I drank more."
"Good boy!" Roman praises, and Virgil feels a tingle of happiness go down all the way to their toes.
When they return, Roman's sitting on the couch in the living room, idly scrolling through his phone. An honest-to-goodness picnic basket is laying at his feet, with a purple ribbon threaded through the handles.
"Oh my god," Virgil giggles. Roman looks up and grins, unashamed.
"Do you like it?" He asks. Virgil nods and sits down on the other side of the couch to put his shoes on. He has a bag, too, one that already contains some useful things, like his midodrine and extra electrolytes. He has a water bottle, too, of course.
He's lightheaded again as soon as he stands on, but he tries not to let it show as he smiles at Roman. It will be fine, Virgil chants to himself. His smile goes sappy, seeing Roman grab Virgil's hoodie "just in case" the weather changes.
The weather outside isn't particularly hot, but Virgil's heart still starts pounding in his chest as he waits for Roman to unlock the car. If I get this picnic canceled, I will never forgive myself, Virgil promises himself darkly.
"Virgil?" Roman asks, after buckling himself in. Virgil turns, sure that the truth of his minor POTS flare is written all over their face. Roman smiles softly at them, then tugs them closer and kisses their lips. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Virgil breathes, suddenly overwhelmed with how much he loves this man. Guilt squirms, cold and sour and abandoned, in the pit of his stomach.
The park's not that far away. Virgil feels fine, bopping along to the cute playlist he turned on, the air conditioning blasting his skin. Roman's adorable when he belts out a song, Virgil decides. They can't stop the smile when Roman sings a particularly tricky bit and then grins after, like he's accomplished something brilliant (and he has).
There are people in the park, but not as many as Virgil would have expected on a nice day. Roman parks in the shade, and some of Virgil's apprehension slips back, pooling in his chest.
"Shall we?" Roman asks, and Virgil nods eagerly.
Roman won't let them carry the picnic basket. No matter how Virgil entreats him.
"It is my noble duty," Roman informs them, holding it higher, out of Virgil's grasp. Virgil stomps his foot, laughing.
"Roman!" Virgil protests. "I can carry a picnic basket! You're the one who put it together, the least I could do is carry it!"
"Hmm, a worthy argument," Roman says, pretending to ponder. "No."
"You're ridiculous," Virgil mutters. Roman grins smugly at him, then tucks the picnic basket in one arm, offering his other hand to Virgil.
"May I escort you?" Roman asks, like they're suddenly in a period drama. Virgil laughs and takes his hand.
"Sure, but if I fall, you have to rescue the picnic basket and the picnic basket alone, it's my dying wish," Virgil teases.
"You don't feel like falling, right?" Roman asks, the joking evaporating from his tone, and Virgil sighs.
"No, my love, I'm not going to fall," Virgil says. He wishes he hadn't said it, all of a sudden. He didn't- it was just supposed to be a joke--
"Good, because the picnic basket gets it if you do," Roman says, and he's smiling when he says it, but Virgil knows he's serious. It quiets them, makes them pay more attention to the discomfort in their chest and the exhaustion weighing down their limbs.
Roman finds an empty pavilion and sets the picnic basket down in the middle of a table, gracefully assisting Virgil in sitting down on one side of the table. He sits down facing them, and lightly tugs the ribbon on the picnic basket's handles.
"Voila!" Roman says. "Lunch is served." Virgil smiles at his theatrics. His chest feels soft and fuzzy and warm now again. He knows Roman means well. Knows he worries.
"Give me your wrist?" Roman requests. Puzzled, Virgil holds out one arm, cheeks flushing as Roman lightly ties the ribbon around his wrist. "Mine," Roman says quietly, and Virgil feels like melting.
"Yours," he agrees, just as softly.
Peeking into the basket, Virgil wants to tear up. Roman's picked out several of their favorites. It's not fair. It's not fair he's so sweet and kind and loving and--
"Virgil?" Roman asks, concern and alarm mixing together in his voice. Virgil looks up and blinks rapidly when he realizes that Roman is suddenly blurry.
"Sorry," they say, swallowing hard. "Sorry, I just- you're so sweet."
"Sweetheart, I don't think a cupcake in your lunch is enough to make you cry," Roman points out. "What is it?"
"I don't-" Virgil takes a deep breath. "I need my midodrine," he admits roughly. "I don't- I don't feel the greatest, but-"
"Darling, we didn't have to-" Roman starts, confirming Virgil's worst fears.
"But I wanted to!" They blurt out, accidentally interrupting him. "Sorry," they mutter, cheeks hot. "I just- it's always a little bad in the morning, and it's a little worse today, and I hate it, I hate doing nothing and feeling so shit, it's not- it's not fair, but I- I want to be here, I want to do things sometimes, I don't want to just cancel all the time, but I don't know when that's just- just the internal ableism talking, or when I just wanna do shit, and I appreciate you so much, but you just- I don't want to cancel," Virgil finishes plaintively, breathing hard. Tears burn the corners of his eyes. "And now I'm ruining everything, and I just-"
"Hey," Roman says, suddenly much closer, and Virgil realizes he's gotten up and moved to Virgil's side of the table. He gently tilts Virgil's chin up, so he can look into their watery green eyes. "Sweetheart. You aren't ruining anything."
"I'm crying," Virgil points out, voice wobbling. Roman's thumb gently brushes away some of the tears, as he smiles sadly down at Virgil.
"You are," Roman says. "But you haven't ruined anything, beloved. You're just overwhelmed. I'm sorry if I've been contributing to it. I don't want you to feel like you can't rest, or listen to your body, or push through things just because you think you have to. Your health is so, so important to me. Physical and mental. Can we-" He hesitates, and Virgil waits, heart trembling in his throat. "Can we talk about it when you don't feel well? I won't knee-jerk say that we should cancel something, or not go out, okay? We can talk about it. Would that help?"
"Yeah," Virgil says, feeling like a bobble-head doll as they nod. They sniff hard once, then twice. Ugh, congestion. "That- yeah, that would help a lot. Thank you." Roman kisses Virgil's cheek, and Virgil sags against him in relief.
"Now," Roman says. "Even though you don't feel well, you want to still have this picnic, right?"
"Yes," Virgil says. "I do. Very much." His heart feels lighter in his chest, though he knows it's still beating a little fast. "Yes, I do. With you." He reaches out a hand, booping Roman on the nose and making him laugh.
"With me," Roman agrees, with a little laugh, tugging Virgil closer against him. "Then let's eat, sweetheart. And don't forget your meds."
"I won't," Virgil promises, fondness stealing through them like warm, sweet syrup. "I love you." A thought strikes them, and they pout. "I can't lie down for at least four hours after I take it, though."
"We can cuddle like this," Roman says, already knowing where their mind is going, as he wraps an arm around their middle. They've somehow found themself almost straddling the end of the bench, pressed into Roman, but Virgil can't say he minds very much.
"Good," Virgil says, and pulls the picnic basket closer.
