#soulcantwrite

Requested by @quietlypondering​. Roman has claustrophobia, and Virgil finds out the hard way when they play Seven Minutes in Heaven. 

TW: panic attacks, maybe implied past abuse (who knows??), bad writing, ask to tag.

Ships: Prinxiety (gets less subtle as it goes on), maybe Logicality (if you squint).

(The above GIF is both somewhat relevant and also me seeking validation with this story)

I barely had time to react when Patton pushed me into Virgil and then pushed us into the closet. There was a tiny light that was too dim to give proper light but let us see each other. I fell into his arms as we thudded against the back.

We looked at Patton, who winked at Virgil before shutting and locking the door. I got up and I could see Virgil's horrible blush on his face. "Patton!" He went to the door and hit it once and got a single response:

"You got seven minutes - don't get too into it!" And then a giggle.

"Patton, I swear to God, if you weren't my brother," he growled. "Let us out."

"It's not been seven minutes yet!" We then heard murmurs and footsteps as, assumedly, Patton walked away with Logan and discussed other subjects.

"... Fuck." Virgil looked down at me, the crimson on his cheeks very adamant, scanning me.

I'd slumped down into the corner, legs arched, arms hugging my knees, head on my arms. My breathing was already accelerating, oh God, oh sweet Jesus.

"Roman?"

Oh Jesus fucking Lord, sweet fucking God, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck, shit, shit, fuck, sh-

"Roman? Roman, are you okay?"

I knew his hand was on my leg, I couldn't feel it though, my thoughts were swarmed with how I was touching three walls of the closet, how I felt crushed, stuck, trapped, all over again. The darkness seemed to swallow me and grab at my throat, clawing at it, stabbing into me, all over again. I choked out a cry, a sob, an apology.

"I... I'm sss-ssorry!"

"Hey, Roman, there's nothing to be sorry about."

I could hear him, but only just about, over the blood rushing through me, my heartbeats, my sobs, my breathing, which kept going faster and faster. My arms suddenly left my side, I think I might have hit Virgil, and slammed against the walls, trying to push the closet apart from within, just like my heart was pounding against my chest, trying to push me apart from within. My tear stricken face was now visible, and I pushed against the wall behind me with my back and my head. Filled to the brim with fear, I screamed, though it was more like a wail, until my throat became sore and my voice became hoarse and I could scream no more.

"Oh crap, oh shit, Patton, get us out!" I heard Virgil hitting and kicking the door over my now hoarse sobs, but to no avail. And that's when I felt him gently hold the sides of my shoulders. "Roman, it's okay, can you look at me, I'm going to get us out? Roman, listen to me. Deep breaths, breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, breathe out for eight, you got that? Do you need me to do it with you?"

I tried to follow his instructions with my trembling lips, and I managed to open my eyes, vision blurred by my tears. He moved one hand to wipe them so I could look at him, the other firm but gentle on my arm.

He was looking at me, concerned, but doing the breathing exercise that he'd told me about. "Copy me, Roman, okay?" I nodded. "Good." We stayed like that for maybe a minute, but once he was sure I'd gotten a hold of it, and asked if I had (which I had), he turned away and stood up. "I'm going to try and break down the door, okay?" For someone so anxious, he was so incredibly calm about the situation. Maybe it's because he knew how to deal with it.

That's when I realised why I had so much of a crush on him, why I'd fallen so hard for him after years of a rivalry. And, even in my panic, I couldn't help but admire and adore him. Because he didn't have to lie anything.

"Patton! Bro! Get us out! Seriously! I know you're just trying to help but this really, REALLY backfired!"

I couldn't help it. Suddenly, warm tears started streaming down my face and I let out a shrill shriek, that just hurt my throat even more and broke down sobbing again.

I heard Virgil swear before he hugged me. It was... tight, but not so tight I couldn't breathe. He whispered in my ear, "Follow my previous instructions." He repeated them to me as I did as he said. My thoughts cleared and I could hear two pairs of footsteps and Patton mumbling loudly.

Virgil tried to pull away to respond to a concerned question from Patton, but I made a noise I can't describe and held onto him. "I won't go, okay." He turned his head. "Patton, unlock the door!"

"Mmkay, let me get the ke- Ah heck, I left it on the counter. Lo, can yo- and he's gone to get it for me, he knows me so well."

Virgil pulled me up with him as he stood up. "Can you tell Logan to hurry up, it's been too long already!"

"I got the ke- I DROPPED THE KEYS!"

"What?!"

"They fell through the floorboards!"

I heard Logan sigh heavily. "... Fuck."

I started to cry, my throat still aching from screaming, and Virgil's grip tightened on me. "We're going to break out. We'll have to explain to Logan's mother that we broke his closet. Logan, we'll pay the price, literally." He turned to me. "Roman, you have to move with me, okay, we're going to break through the closet, got it?" I nodded, burying my head further in his chest. I felt his head rest on my head and he breathed in deeply. "It's going to be okay, Roman." He began to rock me sideways a bit. "It's going to be okay."

It was only as he began to run at the closet door that it occurred to me that maybe the rocking was not solely just for comfort, but to get a run up.

It only took one hard smash into the door to break it, and Virgil and I tumbled out, but only I fell to the ground in a heap. Thankful to be out of the dark, closed space, I spread out and opened my eyes... only to begin sobbing again.

"... Shit."

I don't think an hour has passed since... all that chaos happened, but I'm currently wrapped up in a blanket cocoon, with only my arms free so I can drink my hot chocolate. Patton feels guilty, of course, but he couldn't have known. He's Virgil's brother, not mine. He's more of a dad to me. 

Thinking about it, Patton didn't know about my crush on Virgil, so why did he try to make us play Seven Minutes of Heaven randomly?

A smile creases across my face. Maybe. Just maybe. I sip at my hot chocolate again as the brothers in question come back to sit on sofa near me (I sit in one of their armchairs).

"How you feeling, kiddo?" Patton asks, eyebrows creased with concern.

I smile a little, but it's at Virgil, who notices my look and blushes before looking away and obviously trying to find somewhere to look. He eventually sets his gaze on Patton.

"Just... peachy."

This might not surprise some of you. This might surprise everyone or no one. I posted some writing of Klara, Kenna and Eban a while ago, you can read that here.

So, why am I talking about it here? Well, for starters, to advertise it but also because I’ve remade my blog for the series, which is called The Blood Series (named after the extended quote ‘blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’). After the blog became cluttered with writing advice, which is not what it was intended for, I decided that I’d need to start again. It looks much better now.

It currently has no posts or followers, and I’m super passionate about this book series especially. I’ve been planning it for about half a decade; I’ve designed history, lore, humanoid species, worlds, afterlifes and about fifty characters for this series. So much dedication has gone into this project and I’d hate for it to die quietly.

I’ll be posting character bios, excerpts and more on the blog, and it’ll be where I answer questions about the series.

The book series’ elevator pitch is this: ten mostly gay teens go on a road trip around England to collect items for a ritual to resurrect the gods while several groups chase them. 

Intrigued? You can follow the blog here. You’ll probably want to read the warning, the cast, the full synopsis and the author pages. 

Please at least reblog this, I’m super passionate about getting this series known, written and published. I’ll most likely have a page with my other ideas for stories somewhere but it’ll be mostly for The Blood Series. I can’t say much about its future, perhaps a Patreon or commissions or something like that.

Requested by anonymous. “Why are you playing the ukulele?” Why is he so nervous? Stop it. Anxiety is Virgil’s thing.

I wrote a short one verse one chorus song for this story, and I struggle with poetry and songs in general, appreciate me. I joke. But seriously, this was hard to write, because writer’s block hit me hard and I don’t know how the fuck to write a ukulele. I also struggle with romance and fluff; angst is my forte.

Two weeks. It had taken two goddamm weeks to write this song, and it was only a verse and a chorus, both of which repeated twice.

“Virgil better appreciate this,” Roman grumbles, carrying the ukulele as he made his way down to Virgil’s room.

He’d tested it out before making his short venture, showed Patton to make sure it was good enough (Patton had squealed, hugged him and informed him that he loved it and therefore, Virgil would too or that he would have to catch these hands. Logan had only stared on, perplexed, before asking if that was another phrase if he needed to write down before praising the song) and he’d played it to himself over and over again.

Now all he had to do was perform it again. Easy. That wasn’t so hard, it was exactly what he did so often. But his knees shook and his fingers, resting on the strings of the ukulele.

Why is he so nervous? Stop it. Anxiety is Virgil’s thing. 

And there it is. Virgil’s room. Door closed, some edgy emo music loudly blaring. Roman picks at the strings of the ukulele, biting his lip and reconsidering.

What if it’s too cheesy? What if Virgil hates it? Would a guitar have been more suitable? What if he doesn’t hear me over his music?

But it’s now or never, Roman knows this, and he can’t turn back now; he’s come so far. So he begins to strum, and he begins to hum and he begins to sing. 

Virgil is laying on his bed, one leg arched and the other crossed over it, My Chemical Romance blaring from wireless speakers dotted around the room, the music being connected from his phone, which he plays games on. As the music blares so loud, and the games so involving, he feels less and less connected to reality, more focused on the music and the games.

He sings along to Gerard Way’s voice absent-mindedly, wiggling his foot to the music. And then he runs out of lives on his games, just leaving him and his notifications.

Mostly Tumblr, and most of those notifications are about reblogs and likes with the occasional follower and blog posting, so he swipes them away and looks at what he really cares about, like his brother Patton’s blog posts (aww, look at those cute puppies and Logan falling asleep on him) and Logan’s blog posts (advice on how to write science and maths and other smart stuff. Oh wow, he reblogged Patton’s post on him being asleep and he’s angry embarrassed).

He checks the rest of his notifications, coming to his messages last. It’s from Patton, of course.

Bro: >:(

V-sauce: What have I done now?

Bro: Logan was asleep! Your music woke him up! >:( He looked so cute too!!!

V-sauce: I saw the post on Tumblr, Patton, and you’ve seen him sleeping before.

Bro: But this time he was all curled up against me and GOSH!

V-sauce: Anyway, Logan is a light sleeper, anything wakes him up. I’m surprised you didn’t wake him up taking the picture.

Bro: Still! Your music is so loud and he’s not a happy bunny! 

V-sauce: Probably because you put him on Tumblr.

Bro: >:( !!!!!

V-sauce: Fine, I’ll turn down my music.

Bro: :) 

And then, his phone died. The music abruptly stopped through the middle of a song (how unsatisfying).

That’s when Virgil heard it. The soft, sweet strumming of a ukulele, accompanied by the beautiful and familiar voice of Roman.

“I don't want to keep it...

Secret, no more...

Whoa-oh.

Coming out with my feelings,

Once and for all,

For all.

If you can hear me,

Through the door.

Please open it and,

Make me yours,

Make me yours.

Forever and more...

Whoa-oh...

Oh, whoa, oh...

Forever and more...

Oh, whoa, oh-”

Virgil interrupted him by throwing the door open.

“OH!” Roman’s strumming of the ukulele stopped, and he clutched the instrument close to his chest, a crimson blush on his face. “Um, hi, Virgil. You know, when I said open the door, I didn’t mean it literall-” 

“Why are you playing the ukulele?”

Roman’s nervous posture dissolved into a grumpy one. “I was trying to serenade you.”

Virgil chuckled, smirking. “I know, I know. Just... why a ukulele?” When Roman, the dramatic sod, pouted, Virgil schuckled. “I’m messing. It was a good song.”

“You only heard the chorus.”

“There’s more?”

“A verse.”

“Sing it to me later.”

“Why later?”

Without a word, Virgil pulled Roman into a kiss, and into his room.

Patton and Logan could hear them from the living room, Patton giggling about the ‘romance’. But while Logan rolled his eyes and covered his ears to block out the noises of passion that came after, he had one thing to be glad about.

“At least Virgil isn’t playing Welcome to the Black Parade on loop anymore.”

Tag list + full song I wrote under the read more

Song:

Verse:

I've been trying to,

Show my love for you,

Sitting there wondering,

What on Earth to do?

What to do...

What to do...

Two weeks ago though,

A little Patton came to me,

Said you'd probably appreciate,

A sweet little ditty,

By yours truly...

Yours truly...

Bridge:

So that's what I did,

So listen here, honey...

Chorus:

I don't want to keep it,

Secret, no more...

Whoa-oh.

Coming out with my feelings,

Once and for all,

For all.

If you can hear me,

Through the door.

Please open it and,

Make me yours,

Make me yours.

Forever and more...

Whoa-oh...

Oh, whoa, oh...

Forever and more...

Oh, whoa, oh...

Tag List:

These are two of my OCs from The Blood Series (follow the blog here), Aerron and Damien. While Aerron is a pure baby, Damien... is not. Also, The Demon King is also kind of pure but he’s only mentioned once.

TW: abuse, blood, fear, crying, implied non-con.

Damien is a little bitch and so am I. I’m going to put it under a cut cause triggers.

Klara and Kenna are my OCs, they hate each other, Klara is taller but Kenna is older. They end up being forced to live together with eight other people so they can resurrect the gods. 

It’s a pretty great story but it’s still being planned.

Under the read more are their refs.

Please love my trash children.