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snowdice · 2 years

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742 (Full 2022 Big Bang Fic)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil/Patton (romantic, but could be read as platonic)

Characters:

Main: Virgil, Patton

Appear: Janus, Logan, Roman

Mentioned: Remus

Summary:

Virgil Sanders died alone on a hill at the edge of town by his own hand near the end of his senior year of high school. Patton had never known him; he was also the last person to see him alive.

Despite having barely ever talked to Virgil, Patton never could get over the boy’s death and he could never get rid of the sketchbook Virgil had pressed into his hands before running off that day. It didn’t matter that the number of drawings of Patton himself was… a bit creepy given the context that they hadn’t really known each other. The sketchbook was always somehow a comfort to him.

When Patton is mortally injured, he finds himself reaching for that comfort and suddenly ends up in his old high school with a dead boy standing front of him. Now, it’s a race against the clock to survive a danger Patton had no memories of being in last time with a boy who knew more about him than he really should. If they’re fast enough, maybe this time, no one has to die.

Notes: temporary major character death, suicide (temporary and self-sacrificial, not because of mental health reasons), a bit of gross out stuff (a character walked through what is in essence digestive fluid of a giant slug monster)

This fic is 4 chapters + an epilogue which you can find all on this post. I am posting it all as one lump today for the @ts-storytime Big Bang 2022 event and then will post them by chapters later down the line on my blog and on AO3.

A special thanks to @kiapet2 for being my beta reader and to @easy-meta-knight for the artwork. It was fun working with you!

Check out the awesome artwork for this fic here!

Chapter 1 Coffee Lemonade

“Uh. Could I try the iced coffee lemonade, please?” Patton asked, pointing to a small chalkboard to his left. It was sitting on the counter next to the cash register and had all the seasonal drinks written on it in impressively neat cursive.

“Sure.” The girl working the till must have been a new summer hire, because Patton didn’t recognize her from last spring. Her fingers still seemed a bit hesitant on the cash register buttons and she referred back to a slip of paper taped behind the counter a few times while punching in his order.

“That’ll be $5.32,” she said, looking back up at him.

Patton made sure to smile at her extra wide even though he’d honestly been interested in one of the brownies in the display case and hadn’t wanted her to push the total button quite yet. It didn’t matter. He’d be sitting here for a while anyway; he could just get one later.

“Lemonade coffee,” Patton mused while handing over a couple of bills. “That’s an odd one.”

She glanced at him while counting the money. “Yeah, people seem to be divided on whether they like it or not.”

“I don’t usually get to try the summer specials here,” Patton said. “They usually switch them out around when classes start, and I always just miss them.”

“Yeah,” she said, handing him back his change.

He stuck a dollar in the tip jar.

“I think the owner is changing them out next week at some point,” she said.

“Guess I’ll have to come back a few times this week to try the other specials,” he said, gesturing to the board. “Don’t want to miss my chance.” It wouldn’t be a hardship. He loved this coffee shop, and he was living closer to it this year than he had been the last.

Logan had said taking his favorite coffee shop’s location into account when choosing an apartment was ridiculous, but Patton knew having to walk by his favorite study spot to get home every day would increase his productivity in the end (even if it would probably be a drain on his wallet). Logan, who would drink crude oil thinking it was his coffee and thought the periodic table was enough decoration for his classroom given it was colorful, did not understand this concept.

“Mmm,” the cashier replied dismissively. It was not in a rude way, but she clearly wasn’t interested in continuing to talk to him much more. That was fair. She didn’t know Patton yet. She probably would get to know him if she continued to work at the coffee shop through the school year.

Shooting her one last smile, Patton stepped away to find a table.

The coffee shop felt eerily empty for this time of day. Patton wasn’t used to being in town when the university was not in session. Up until this year, he’d lived in the dorms and wasn’t allowed to move in until a predetermined date and time the week before classes started. This year, he was able to move into his apartment at the beginning of August.

Logan had helped him move in over the weekend but had had to be back in their hometown by Monday since it was the last week of the summer class he was teaching. So, now Patton was alone in a city that was a whole lot emptier than he was used to without college students crawling all over it.

He was used to this coffee shop being filled to the brim with students studying. Today, however, there was only one guy with a laptop in the back and a mom with two young children taking up one of the two couches.

Patton chose to sit at his favorite spot near the window. From it, he had a perfect view of a small park to the left of the coffee shop. Bunnies and squirrels frequented the little grassy area. He had a tally table in his planner from last year where he’d always count how many of each animal he could spot during his hours at the shop. That… had not been the intended purpose of the planners Logan always got him for each school year.

Doodling was also not the intended purpose of the planners, but doodling in the new one was Patton’s plan for the afternoon. It wasn’t like he had any coursework yet! (Not that he ever actually wrote assignments down in the things.)

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his new planner as well as a blue pen. Logan had handed the planner to him yesterday right before leaving. It was a gift he had been giving Patton every school year since Patton was 8 and Logan was 16. Things had changed a lot since then. Logan had gone off to college and started a doctorate program, their parents had died, and Logan had come back home and done his best to take a more parental role towards Patton, which had been awkward and hard. And yet, Patton could always count on getting a planner gifted to him every August.

It was fundamentally a Logan sort of gift, but he’d taken Patton’s tastes into consideration when picking it out. It was a cute little thing that looked nothing like the planner Logan toted around for himself.

The spirals holding it all together were larger than necessary and painted a bright shiny gold. The paper inside was sturdy, but colorful. Each month had a different color scheme, and the pages were littered with inspirational quotes. The cover was a light pink and had a bunch of flowers and cute cartoon bees on it. In curly letters right in the middle of the front cover there was a quote that read, “You will never ‘find’ time for anything. If you want time, you must make it.”

It was pretty. Patton appreciated how much thought probably went into picking it out.

It almost made Patton want to use it for its intended purpose.

He cracked the planner open and flipped to the page with the day’s date. The page was meant to be a spot to write down his class assignments and general daily tasks, but Patton always preferred to just remember those things without a planner, or maybe to use cute sticky notes for the most important things. (He had cupcake and animal shaped sticky notes for this purpose.)

Instead of using it to plan, Patton used it as a mini journal/scrapbook/sketchbook. He wrote his thoughts down where assignments were supposed to go, glued flyers or ticket stubs from events he went to in the ‘Goals’ section and filled the rest of the empty space with doodles.

He wasn’t sure what to write about his day yet, but he was thinking about bunnies, so he started doodling a bunny next to the word “Monday”.

After a minute, the cashier, having forgotten to ask his name to put on the cup, awkwardly waved to grab his attention and called to him that his lemonade coffee was finished.

Over the next half hour, Patton sipped on his drink and continued his bunny doodle. Intermediately, he glanced outside to see if there were any real bunnies hopping about. He didn’t see any, but he did see two squirrels. He marked both down in his new tally table at the front of the planner.

The lemonade coffee was pretty good. He would miss it when it disappeared next week, but alas, time must march forward. Surely at least one of the fall specials would be just as good.

Patton had always loved their fall specials, ever since he’d found this coffee shop halfway through the fall of his freshman year. Though he’d found love for the winter and spring drinks as well, there was something special about the fall.

He finished his bunny doodle and took a sip of his drink, looking at his sketch. It wasn’t a perfect drawing, but Patton had been improving ever since he’d decided to start learning to draw. It at least looked like a bunny. He couldn’t have said the same thing if he’d tried to draw one a few years ago.

Looking at his okay bunny made his brain itch to look at another drawing though, and he found himself reaching down to grab his backpack. His hand brushed over the only other thing in his bag, and he felt himself smile slightly as he grabbed a proper sketchbook.

He shoved his planner to the other side of the table and moved what was left of his drink to the window ledge, just to be absolutely sure there was no chance of anything spilling on the sketches.

It was one of those fancy sketchbooks, the sturdy kind made for real artists who made art that people would want to preserve. It looked exactly as it had when it had first come into Patton’s possession despite Patton carrying it around in his backpack every day and flipping through it often. Its preservation wasn’t just the effect of how well it was made; Patton also was very careful to take proper care of it. It was the least he could do.

He reached for the cover with reverent fingers and carefully opened the sketchbook. It was instinct now to flip to his favorite drawing in the collection. He drew a finger down the side of the page, not touching the actual drawing for fear of smudging it.

He knew it was just in his head, but the page felt warm to the touch, like the late afternoon sunlight perfectly captured on the page bled into the paper and transferred to his finger.

This was one of the few drawings that took up an entire page. Most of the pages held an average of 4 distinct drawings, and some held up to 10. It was enough to squeeze 742 different drawings into the 100-page sketchbook. Patton knew the exact number not because he’d counted (though he had looked at each and every one of them multiple times), but because each picture was labeled with a number from 1 to 742.

Patton’s favorite was number 37.

Some people might say it was vain for his favorite picture in the sketchbook to be one of himself, yet it wasn’t about Patton thinking highly of himself, not at all. There was something… else that drew him to this drawing in particular.

It was done entirely in colored pencil. Patton hadn’t known until he saw this drawing that one could do that with just some colored pencils.

In the picture Patton was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch in the living room of the house he’d grown up in. He was bent over slightly, with a small smile on his face and glancing off to the right. There were 8 cards in his hands, and his favorite mug was sitting on the table next to him. The sunlight hit the left half of his face, glinting slightly off the metal part of his glasses.

He looked happy in the picture. He looked comfortable and at home.

Some people might say the picture was creepy considering Patton had never invited the artist into his home. He’d never shown him his couch or his favorite mug.

It…it probably was creepy. The whole sketchbook was probably creepy, especially with how much Patton himself featured in it. Especially with how it came to be in Patton’s possession.

And yet… and yet, whenever he touched its cover, whenever he looked at the pages within, it didn’t feel creepy. It didn’t feel wrong.

He’d never been able to get rid of it. He’d never even considered getting rid of it. He hadn’t ever even told anyone what it was.

He didn’t know how to describe what he felt when he looked at the drawings. They made him feel sad, but also somehow warm, like a hug from a loved one on a really bad day. Even though he didn’t have any memory of the situations he was drawn into, they somehow felt familiar. They were like photos you might find in your grandparents’ house from when you were much younger. You might not remember the picture being taken, but it felt right, like it did indeed happen to you. It felt nostalgic.

Looking at the pictures in the sketchbook, flipping through its pages, made it feel like the book was alive-unlike the person who had filled it.

Virgil Sanders had been a tragedy in Patton’s hometown of Kairos Hill. One night in Patton’s senior year of high school, the 17-year-old boy had climbed the hill on the outskirts of town in the middle of the night and proceeded to slit his own wrists.

His body had been cold by the time he’d been found the next day, after his foster family had reported him missing and the police had found a stolen car at the base of the hill. Rumors said there wasn’t even a bit of blood left in the body, all of it having been absorbed into the earth before the cops found him.

What people didn’t know was that earlier that same day, as school was getting out, Virgil had shoved this sketchbook into Patton’s hands and had run away before Patton could get a word out. It was very likely that Patton had been the last person who saw him alive. He hadn’t told the police this. He hadn’t told anyone this.

It wasn’t until after Virgil was already dead that Patton had actually cracked open the sketchbook. He’d found hundreds of beautiful, detailed drawings, including over three hundred of Patton himself, though not all were as grand as number 37.

Patton had never known Virgil, at least not for real. The boy had transferred to Patton’s high school at the beginning of their senior year, and Patton would only retroactively know he’d come to town because his parents had died in a fire, and he’d been placed with a foster family.

He’d been quiet from the accounts of people who’d known him better than Patton had, including Logan who had taught him. He’d never talked without prompting. Patton’s friend Roman had even been partnered with him for a history project the day of his suicide. Patton vaguely remembered Roman being mad at him because he’d refused to work on it at all. In fact, he’d apparently pretended to have to use the bathroom during class and then never came back.

Of course, why would you work on a history project when you planned to be dead long before it was due?

That was really all Patton knew about him. Yet for some reason, he’d cried the first time he’d flipped through these pages. As soon as he’d hit picture 10, he’d had to stop, because he’d been hit with a wave of sudden melancholy and had broken down in tears. It had just been a simple blue butterfly, but something about it had made him sob so loudly that Logan had come to check on him upstairs.

He could look through the pictures without sobbing now, at least. Patton let himself look at picture number 37 for a few minutes before beginning to flip through the other pages.

He wasn’t sure how long he was absorbed in the pages of the sketchbook. He didn’t pay attention to the sound of the door behind him opening with the soft tinkle of a bell or the sound of the girl at the counter and a man speaking to each other.

It wasn’t until Patton’s name was spoken that he looked up.

“Patton Heart,” the voice said, making Patton jump. He put his hands over the picture he’d been looking at defensively as he looked up.

He immediately recognized the man, though it had been over a year since they’d last met.

The man tilted his head. “You draw?” he asked.

Patton slammed the sketchbook closed immediately at the inquiry. “Yes,” he said.

“It’s very well done,” the man said.

“Thank you.”

After a moment, the man slid into the seat across from Patton without asking if it was okay. Patton pressed his lips together.

Janus Lial had always unnerved Patton, but he’d never been able to pin down exactly why. He didn’t seem… bad. Patton liked him in the way one might like a poisonous snake when it was behind a glass wall at a zoo. As long as it stayed back there away from him, he could appreciate it. Unfortunately, Janus often did not stay away from Patton enough for comfort.

He had a weird aura about him, and he always seemed to know more than what he was saying. He always seemed to know that Patton knew more than what he was saying.

Janus was a police officer who had come to town to investigate Virgil’s death. Maybe it was just because he was from out of town, but he’d always been one of the few adults that seemed to care that Virgil had died. The boy’s foster parents hadn’t seemed to care. Most of his teachers didn’t seem to care. Yet, for some reason, the man who, as far as Patton knew, was a stranger to the boy did.

…

Then again, Patton had been a stranger to Virgil too, but he still cared.

Janus had stuck around the town longer than the other investigators. He’d also tended to look at Patton more than the other investigators had. Even after the investigation into Virgil’s death had been officially closed, he’d still shown up in Patton’s hometown every so often and like a magnet, he always seemed to somehow run into Patton whenever he was within 20 miles of him. At least that’s how it seemed.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Janus said.

“Mmm,” Patton replied.

“What are you doing in the city?”

“College.”

“Ah, yes,” Janus said, leaning back in the chair. “That makes sense. How is university life?”

“Semester hasn’t started yet.”

“Hmm.” He waited for a long moment. The silence was familiar from their many interviews after Virgil’s death.

From what Patton had gleaned, because Virgil had been a ward of the state, special agents from out of town had needed to do an independent investigation of his suicide just to be sure. The town had been crawling with the agents for almost a month. They’d interviewed everyone in town whether or not they’d known him.

Janus had been the one to initially interview Patton. Then he’d interviewed him again. And again. Despite the fact that there wasn’t any record Patton had ever interacted with Virgil, Janus had kept wanting to ask him questions. Only Patton had known about the sketchbook, but it was like Janus had somehow known Patton was holding something back. Perhaps Patton had just been a bad liar and he’d picked up on that.

Eventually he’d stopped calling Patton in for formal interviews, but even then, Patton had noticed the man’s eyes linger on him the rest of the time he was in town. Every time they’d spoken then or in the years afterwards, it had still felt like he was being interviewed.

Like right now.

“Could I see that?” Janus asked, looking at the sketchbook with curious eyes. He was reaching forward before Patton answered.

“No,” Patton snapped, a curl of defensiveness in his chest. Janus’s hand retreated from where he’d just touched the cover as though he’d been burned. He shook out the hand with a grimace.

“My apologies,” he grumbled.

“They’re private,” Patton said.

Janus stared at him for a long moment, calculations going on in his eyes. It made Patton want to squirm. “Yes, of course,” he said.

“Did you need something, Officer Lial?” Patton asked coolly.

There was a long pause. Janus seemed to be waiting for something from Patton, but Patton did not fill the space in the conversation left for him.

“No,” he finally said and got to his feet, “but if you ever need me…” He set a business card down on the table next to Patton.

It wasn’t the first time Patton had been given that exact business card. He was pretty sure the first one he’d gotten from him was still tucked in the back of Virgil’s sketchbook right now. He and Patton met eyes for a long moment. “I like your rabbit too,” he said.

“Janus,” the girl behind the counter called. She’d remembered to ask for the customer’s name this time, Patton noted. Janus turned away without another word and grabbed his coffee from the counter. The sound of a bell followed him out of the coffee shop.

Patton reached over and closed the planner with the bunny drawing on it.

He’d planned to stay in the coffee shop a little while longer, but he didn’t really feel like it anymore. He just wanted to go back to his apartment and watch something on Netflix. Maybe he’d order something for dinner.

He carefully slid the planner and sketchbook into his bag. He threw the bag casually on his back only using one strap. With one last smile and wave at the new cashier, he left the coffee shop.

His apartment was only a few blocks away. He was thinking about his plans for the rest of the week as he walked. He’d been out of town for three months, and there were a few restaurants he wanted to visit that he’d been unable to go to for a while.

Logan had helped him unpack most of the things for his new apartment, but he still had some clothing he had to put away and some posters to hang on his walls.

He also needed to get more groceries than the bread, milk, and peanut butter he and Logan had picked up at the corner store.

Maybe he’d order some pizza from one of the local shops tonight. When he was with Logan, they always had to compromise on something boring like sausage or pepperoni, because they had very different tastes. Now that it was just Patton, he could get as many green olives, banana peppers, and globs of spinach on his pizza as he wanted.

He could see his apartment when it happened, though he wasn’t able to figure out what “it” was exactly. His mind provided the word “earthquake,” but the city was nowhere near a fault line. The sidewalk under his feet crumbled out from beneath him suddenly and he toppled forward, smacking his head against the ground before he could do anything to prevent it.

He lay there stunned for a long moment, vision blurry and very confused. The world was still rumbling around him, and he could hear screaming and something… else.

Was there a bomb or something? He didn’t know. All of the air had been pushed out of his lungs and it was difficult to suck anymore in. His glasses were no longer on his nose which might have explained at least some of the blurry vision. He tilted his head to look around for them and decided that probably wasn’t the only reason his vision was blurry with how his head ached.

He didn’t see his glasses when he looked, but his eyes did catch on his backpack. It was still hanging on one of his arms, but it had otherwise been flung away from his body. There was a hole in the bottom that he was sure hadn’t been there when he’d packed it at the coffee shop. The hole also had black edges to it, making it look like the hole had been burned into it.

He could just see the edge of the sketchbook poking through the hole.

Without knowing why, maybe just because he was used to reaching to the sketchbook for comfort, he stretched out a hand towards it. His fingers landed on the familiar warm cover and…

“Hey Patton,” a voice said, and to Patton’s surprise, he was suddenly standing up. He took a startled moment to take a breath, something that had been difficult a moment before. “This is for you,” the same voice said. Patton blinked as the same sketchbook he’d just been reaching for was shoved into his arms.

Patton looked up in surprise only to see the face of a boy who was supposed to be long dead looking back at him. He turned away just as he had almost 3 years ago.

“No!” Patton yelled, and he tackled Virgil Sanders to the ground.

Chapter 2: Here Again

They smacked into the ground hard, though not as hard as Patton had hit the ground only moments before when the sidewalk had crumbled underneath him.

Wait…

What was happening?

His mind was having trouble catching up to what was going on, trying to draw a logical line between the last thing he remembered and what was happening now.

He’d gone to his favorite coffee shop, had started to walk home, and had fallen because of… something. Now he was in an empty hallway. Not only that, he seemed to be in an empty hallway in his old high school.

He hadn’t even stood up from the first time he’d fallen. Yet, he’d just fallen again. He was on the floor. He… He was…

“Huh?” Virgil Sanders sputtered. Patton shouldn’t recognize his voice. He’d seen his picture thousands of times at this point, but he didn’t know his voice. Maybe Patton had heard him speak once or twice when a teacher had called on him, but he couldn’t have recalled what he sounded like only 5 seconds ago. Yet, at the same time, somehow the voice was familiar despite the fact that they’d never held and actual conversation before he’d died.

Virgil was dead, but he was also talking to Patton.

“Patton?” Virgil continued when Patton froze. “What?”

Patton looked down at his shocked and confused face. He looked exactly like the school picture they’d put in the newspaper after he’d died, down to the frown on his face. Patton had cut the picture away from the rather impersonal obituary on impulse one day. He still had the photo hidden in a book on his nightstand. He’d never been able to bring himself to throw it away. Not when the person in the photo was dead.

The person in the photo was laying under Patton and staring up at him.

The person in the photo was dead. And he was laying under him.

Patton didn’t know how those two concepts could coexist, but he did know one thing. His hands turned to fists in the front of Virgil’s shirt. “You can’t!” he cried.

“Can’t… what?” Virgil asked, his eyes darting over Patton’s face.

“You can’t die!”

Virgil’s mouth opened a bit, making him look like a very confused fish. It’d be funny in any other situation.

“H-how do you…?” He trailed off, studying Patton for a long moment. “Do you remember something?”

“I remember everything.”

“How do you…” He paused, biting his lip. “What exactly do you remember?”

“I remember you die,” Patton said.

He looked confused. “You mean you remember I’m going to die,” said Virgil.

“No, I remember you dying!” Patton said, grip tightening even more in the front of his shirt against his will.

“But I… haven’t died,” Virgil said, face twisting into a frown.

“But you’re going to!”

“But I… but I haven’t.”

“Yes!” Patton looked down at the clearly not dead boy. “…No…?” He grimaced. “I don’t know. I’m confused.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty confused too,” said Virgil. “I feel like we’re having two separate conversations. What exactly do you mean by ‘I’m going to die’, or have died or whatever?”

“I…” Patton said. He took a breath and gathered his thoughts for a moment. “Today’s March 15th, right?”

Virgil nodded.

“You died… die today,” Patton told him. “You give me your sketchbook and then no one sees you ever again. They find your body on the hill at the edge of town tomorrow morning.”

Something funny flickered across Virgil’s face.

“Tomorrow?” he asked like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yeah,” Patton said. “You died today, and they found your body tomorrow.”

Virgil still seemed lost for a second, but then he seemed to shake himself. “Wait, so then, are you saying you’re from the future?”

“I,” Patton said, stopping to think for a moment. “I guess I am.”

“Like, the real proper future, not like from 10:37pm tonight?”

“Yeah,” Patton confirmed. “I have no idea how it happened, but it’s been 2 and a half years since you died for me. I… something was going on. I don’t know. I hit my head and then you were here and giving me the sketchbook. Again.”

“You’re from the future.” Virgil leaned his head back against the linoleum tiles with a clunk; his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

Patton winced at the noise.

“What even is my life?” Virgil asked. It did not sound like he was talking to Patton.

“Worth living,” Patton immediately said.

Virgil’s face scrunched up; he turned to squint up at Patton.

“Look,” Patton began to blabber, “I know we don’t exactly know each other, but I’m sure many people do care about you, even if you can’t see it. Even if for some reason no one does right now, I’m sure many people will care about you in the future. You seem like a nice person. I could be your friend. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not suicidal, Pat,” Virgil sighed, cutting him off. “Not really. Not like that. I am planning to die today, yes, but it’s not like… I don’t want to die.”

“You don’t?” Patton asked.

“No,” he breathed. “I really, really, don’t. Don’t get me wrong, life’s not great right now. I miss my mom and dad. My foster parents are kind of cold. I’m a bit behind in school and I don’t have many friends in town, because I wasn’t in the best headspace when I moved here. I don’t want to die though.”

“Then why do you?” Patton asked.

“I’m just,” he said; there was a hitch to his voice. “I’m really tired, Pat. I’m not getting anywhere. I literally can’t keep going anymore.”

“That… sounds suicidal,” Patton said.

“It’s not,” Virgil said. “It’s… you have no idea how much I’d like to see tomorrow right now.”

“Then why are you going to die?” asked Patton.

“I don’t have a choice. I’ve tried so many different things so many different times. I literally don’t think I can go any more rounds, and I’m scared of dying, but I’m more scared of what could happen if I run out of energy to keep this up.”

“Keep what up?” Patton asked. “Rounds?”

He sighed, and finally moved to push Patton off himself and sit up. He looked to the side and reached out an arm. The sketchbook had fallen and skidded to land next to him when Patton had tackled him. However, he froze the second he touched the cover.

“What the hell?” Virgil pulled the book into his lap, looking down and staring at it like it was an alien.

“What?” Patton asked, looking at the book himself. It looked the same as it always had.

“How did it-? When did it-? Why?” Virgil sputtered, sliding his finger along the cover.

“What?” Patton repeated more insistently.

“It’s become a praetectio somehow.”

“Uh,” Patton said. “What’s that.”

Virgil glanced at him and then back at the book with a frown. “It’s a type of protection charm,” he answered, “one of the strongest types.”

“A protection charm?” Patton asked, confused.

Virgil turned to blink at him. “Right,” he said. “You wouldn’t know about any of that today.”

“Huh?”

Virgil exhaled heavily. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do the spiel one last time. My name is Virgil Sanders. It’s a little hard to believe, but please hear me out. Magic is real, and I’m what’s known as a mage. Except I’m not really a mage, because you have to study a certain amount to be considered one, but both of my parents were mages. I have magic in my blood and some amount of knowledge about how to use it.”

“This town,” he gestured with one hand to the air around them, “is currently in danger. It will be destroyed, and everyone will die at 10:37pm. I don’t know how to save it. Or, at least, I don’t know how to save it permanently. The only thing I am able to do is a band-aid. When the town was destroyed the first time, I panicked and my magic responded, putting the entire town into a time loop. It takes me back 12 hours before everything ends. The only thing that persists through the time loops are my memories and…” He held up the sketchbook. “This. This is a time anchor. It was the closest object to me when everything went to shit, and my magic latched onto it. It’s what keeps the time loop stable. It also helps me keep track of the loops. Every day before 10:37pm, I make sure to draw a picture to remind myself of that day, and I label it with the number of loops it’s been. The picture I draw remains even when the loop resets. Currently, there are 742 drawings. We have gone through 741 versions of today before this one. Yes, we have had this conversation multiple times.”

“You’re stuck in a time loop?” Patton asked, alarmed.

Virgil smiled slightly. “And you always are the only one who believes me, first try. Though,” he added, “if you just time traveled yourself, it’s probably even easier to believe.” He paused with a contemplative look on his face. “That brings up the question as to how you time traveled. What happened to get you here?”

“Hmm,” Patton said. “You said something’s weird about the sketchbook, right?”

“Yeah, it’s not a time loop anchor anymore. Or, well, I think it still is, but it’s not just that.”

“Well,” Patton hedged. “I had touched it right before I ended up back here. I’d gotten knocked over and was dizzy and confused, but I saw the sketchbook in my bag. There was a weird hole burned into the bottom of my bag that hadn’t been there before. I reached for it and suddenly was here.”

Virgil looked down at the sketchbook. “Oh. “His eyes widened in realization. “It must be… the praetectio, it must be for you.”

“For me?”

“You must have been in danger in the future. The book was trying to reach you to protect you.”

He looked over at Patton, something funny in his eyes.

“I must have… when I gave this to you, I somehow charmed it to protect you. I don’t know how. I don’t even know how to make one. I didn’t even think I had enough magic left for anything, let alone something this powerful.”

“But why did it send me back in time?” Patton asked.

“I’m not sure. I guess since it was also a time anchor, time travel is in its repertoire of how to protect you. It apparently saw that as the best option in that moment.”

“So, it protected me from whatever was going on in the future?” Patton asked.

Virgil scowled down at the book at that. “Well, it didn’t do a very good job of it,” he scolded the cover. “You were supposed to protect him, not take him back in time to a time where he was almost eaten by a giant slug!”

“Giant… slug?”

Virgil stopped glowering at the book to look up at him with a grimace. “Yeah. We’re currently in the… well, it’s not really a mouth. It’s a stomach, kind of, but it’s not in the slug. It’s like an outside stomach… thing. We’re in the that of a giant magic slug monster.” He shuddered a bit and then seemed to gather himself at least somewhat. “It’s gross,” he said. “It’s a horrible death. For everyone. Everyone in town dies. Except for me for some reason. Parent death magic things, I think. I don’t know. I haven’t actually studied any of this for real.” He sighed. “I know more about it now than I did 700 rounds ago, but there is literally one beginners magic book in this entire town and it’s the one that I brought with me. I have read it so many times and it is not sufficient for this situation. Honestly, your brother has been more of a help figuring out what’s going on than that book, despite him having a maximum of 11 hours with the knowledge that magic even exists.”

“You know my brother?” Patton asked.

“At this point, I probably know everyone in this town better than they know themselves.”

“So then,” Patton said, “all of those drawings in your sketchbook. Those were real? You knew me?”

Virgil’s cheeks suddenly flushed a bright red. “Oh right,” he coughed. “Uh, well, see…”

He curled into himself, his shoulders hunching and his hands coming up to hide his face.

“I was not expecting to be alive to see a version of you who had seen those pictures.”

“They’re very good,” Patton said.

“I have literally never shown anyone my drawings before except my mother.” He curled up even tighter; his goal seemed to be to become part of the floor, “and there are so many pictures of you.”

“Well, I really liked all of them,” Patton said.

“Ahhh,” he softly screamed into his hands. Patton couldn’t help but be amused at him with his reddening face and form trying to disappear into his hoodie. He’d pulled his hands into his sleeves to make sweater paws which were pressed to his face.

“Sorry,” Patton said, trying and failing not to smile. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

“No,” Virgil said into his hands. “I wanted you to have it. I just did not expect to have time to face the mortifying consequences.”

Patton’s smile faded at the reminder of what he’d planned to do. “Why are you planning to die today?”

Virgil breathed out, his shoulder slumping instead of hunching now. “Like I said, I’m tired.” A hand rubbed over his face. “I only have so much magic, and since I’m the one keeping the time loop stable, my magic reserves aren’t resetting when time does. They’re basically empty at this point.”

His fingertips tapped against the sketchbook lightly in an anxious pattern.

“I may have reversed time hundreds of times for everyone else, but that doesn’t give me unlimited time. I’ve tried everything I can do from within this town, and everything to try to get out of town. Nothing has worked, and I know if I keep going, eventually the loop will fail. And eventually… eventually is really soon. I may have even been pushing with this one, but I…”

His voice broke then, and this time his sweater paws were not hiding a red, embarrassed face.

“I wanted a chance to say goodbye, and then to reset it all one last time, so you wouldn’t have to live with it afterwards.”

Patton felt his heart drop. “Oh.”

His hand reached out and he brushed a knuckle across the hands still hiding Virgil’s face. Virgil peaked teary eyes at him when he did.

The lurch in Patton’s chest didn’t feel like just casual empathy for a stranger. “Oh, honey.”

“I’m protected from being killed by the slug. It doesn’t even really know I’m here because of the protections around me,” Virgil said, “but if I do it myself… well, with my magical heritage, my magical essence is worth about 5 towns filled with normal people of this size. I don’t know a lot about the monster trying to feed on us… on you, but I know it feeds on innate magic in blood. I’m pretty sure if I bleed out on that hill and it feeds on that blood, it won’t have enough room for the town and it’ll just go. At least, that’s what I’d hoped would happen. Even if it doesn’t work, at least I did everything I could.”

He shot a half smile at Patton.

“And it does work, apparently,” he said, gesturing at him. “That…that’s nice to know.”

“No,” Patton said at his resigned tone. “No, you can’t. You’re not allowed to give up.”

“Patton, there is literally nothing I can do. I have nothing left.”

“Well,” Patton said, “well, you did that!” He pointed at the sketchbook in Virgil’s lap. “You made that, didn’t you? You thought you had nothing left when you started this last loop, but then you did that.”

“I don’t know how I did this, Pat,” he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the cover again. “I don’t know enough magic to even know if the magic used to make this is different. It could be coming from another source and if it is, I can’t consciously tap into that. All I know is I can feel myself draining, and that the time loop has been getting unstable these last few times. It’s been taking longer to reset.”

“You have to keep trying,” Patton stressed.

“No,” he said firmly.

“Yes!”

“We’ve had this conversation before,” Virgil said, frustrated. “I’ve made up my mind. You and your brother and Roman, even my foster parents who barely care about me… everyone in this town are not worth risking just for me. It’s the only thing that could work and it will work. If you’ve seen tomorrow, then you’re proof of that.”

“I won’t let you!” Patton snapped.

Virgil just sighed, tiredly. “This is why I didn’t tell you today,” he said wistfully.

“Please don’t give up,” Patton begged. “You’ve already come so far.”

“And gotten nowhere,” Virgil argued, turning his head away. “Literally, nothing I’ve done has changed anything.”

Patton watched him for a moment. His face was impassive, but his fingers were still tapping that anxious rhythm on the sketchbook.

“But,” Patton said slowly, “but that’s not true anymore. You have done something that’s changed things. Things are different right now.”

He reached out and put his hand on the sketchbook next to Virgil’s. “I’m here. I’m from years in the future with extra knowledge that didn’t exist in this loop until right now and we have this sketchbook charm thing. That has mean something. It has to give us something else to try. You can’t give up when, after all of these tries, something has finally changed.”

Virgil didn’t respond.

“You made this book to protect me. It’s not going to bring me back here just for you to die on me again.”

“Yeah, well, it’s probably a stupid protection charm,” he spat. “It’s from my stupid magic, so it’s not like it has any idea what it’s doing.”

“Mister, you’ve held this loop together for what’s functionally years. Don’t you think it’s time for you to give yourself some credit?”

That got Virgil to finally look at him; he slowly turned to face him, a pinched, almost annoyed, expression on his face. “Really?” he asked.

“What?” Patton asked innocently.

“Do you know how many time puns I’ve heard over the past 12 hours times 742, Patton?”

“Puns are never a waste of time,” Patton said.

“Stop.”

“What?” Patton asked. “Is it ticking you off?”

Virgil put a hand over his face, but Patton could see his hidden smile.

Patton smiled too and let his hand slide across the sketchbook to cover the hand Virgil had left on the cover. “You made this protection charm,” he said, “and it sounds like you made it because you care about me a lot. Enough to befriend me over and over despite the time puns. Would any part of you have made this in a way where it could hurt me?”

Virgil looked at him and swallowed. “No,” he said softly.

“You know, even the first time around, when I didn’t know we knew each other, it still hurt me. Even when you were just a name in the local newspapers and a few sketches in a sketchbook, it hurt. My memories of whatever happened through all those loops might not be up here,” he tapped the side of his head, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve always known deep down that I cared about you. Even years later, I suddenly saw your face again and…” he trailed off and to prove his point, a wave of feeling washed over him. He had to bite his lip to prevent tears from spilling down his cheeks.

“Patton…” Virgil said. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Don’t be,” Patton said. “Don’t you dare be sorry. I should be sorry for not figuring out a way to fix it the first time.”

“It’s not your job to fix it,” Virgil said.

“It’s not your job either,” Patton said. “You’re, what? 17? You didn’t deserve to have to go through all of this and you don’t deserve to die. It’s not your job to keep a time loop going to try to save the town but…” Patton paused and squeezed Virgil’s hand that was still laying on the sketchbook. “I’m asking you to try one more time anyway. One more try for me. With me. Please.”

Virgil looked at him for a long few moments, almost like he had all of the time in the world, when in reality the clock was quickly ticking towards its end. He turned the hand under Patton’s over, so their palms met and then squeezed his hand.

“Okay,” he said. “One more time for you.”

“Thank you,” Patton said, squeezing his hand back.

“Okay,” Virgil said again. “If we’re going to try this again for real, we need to do a couple of things.” He glanced at his watch and hissed out a breath. “We only have seven hours.”

“Well, then,” Patton said with a smile, “we’d better move fast. What do we need to do?”

Chapter 3: Magic Book

“Logan!” Patton said, bursting into Logan’s classroom.

Logan was seated at his desk, two neat stacks of student’s papers in front of him and a red pen in hand. It was a familiar sight even though Patton hadn’t seen it in the 2 years since he’d graduated high school. It was a little strange to see him younger. Logan hadn’t aged too much in the last couple of years, but the sudden jump back was still a bit odd.

Logan jumped at Patton’s abrupt entrance, looking up sharply.

“Ah,” he said after a moment, adjusting his glasses. “Hello, Patton.” He glanced curiously at Virgil who was hanging back in the doorway. “Are you ready to go home?”

“No!”

Logan blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“We need your help,” Patton said.

Logan glanced at Virgil again and set his pen down. “With what?”

“With Virgil,” Patton said, reaching back to pull Virgil fully into the room.

“Hello, Mr. Sanders,” Logan said with a nod. “Did you need help with the class content?” Though even as he asked it, his brow crinkled in confusion, obviously knowing that didn’t quite add up.

“No,” Virgil answered.

“Then what do you need my assistance with?”

Virgil sucked in a quick breath through his teeth like he was bracing himself to stick his hand in boiling water. “I’m in a time loop,” he said.

Logan just stared at the two of them for a long moment, seeming to be trying to figure out if this was some elaborate joke of the youth.

“I have proof,” Virgil said before Logan could gather himself to say anything. He pulled the sketchbook out from where he’d tucked it under his arm and set about flipping through it. He landed on a page that had drawing number 102 on it.

It was a sketch that Patton recognized, of course, but he’d never paid too much attention to it. The picture was one of the simpler ones in the book, though it took up an entire page. It was a simple blue bird sitting on a tree branch larger than its own body. It was looking to the left with a string in its mouth.

Virgil took a few steps forward to plop it down on top of the papers Logan had been grading and then quickly retreated back to Patton’s side.

For some reason, after looking at it for a few seconds, Logan nodded. “Oh,” he said. “Then what is it that you need?”

“I need your big brain to help us figure out what to do,” Virgil said. Then, he paused. “Please?”

“Very well,” Logan agreed. “Close that door behind you.”

Virgil did so, and then turned to start digging through his backpack.

“Here,” he said after pulling out a textbook sized book with a dark blue cover. He nodded at one of Logan’s desk drawers. “May I?”

Logan pushed back his chair slightly to give Virgil access to the indicated drawer. Virgil immediately pulled out Logan’s collection of sticky notes and set down the textbook. He quickly started flipping through it, sticking different colored notes in what looked like random places from what Patton could tell.

Logan watched him intently the whole 5 minutes it took for him to flip through the book. Virgil then exchanged the sketchbook still open in front of Logan with the now sticky note-riddled book.

“We’re being eaten by a giant slug,” Virgil said. “That should get you caught up.”

“Ah,” Logan said, still seeming a bit bewildered, but he did dutifully turn to the book and opened it to the first marked page. “Alright.”

“What was that?” Patton asked when Virgil stepped away.

“Me pre-notating the book with his color system takes his time to get all of the relevant information down from 1 hour to 20 minutes.”

“You memorized how Logan takes notes on your magic book?” Patton said, honestly amazed. He’d lived with the man his entire life and Patton still had no idea how his system worked.

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve done this a lot of times,” he said, looking very, very tired.

“Do you want coffee while we wait on him?” Patton asked, waving at Logan who was reading intently by now.

Virgil smiled. “Sure.”

Patton hadn’t been in Logan’s classroom for a few years, but he still remembered where his brother kept the good coffee supplies locked up and safe from students and coworkers.

Virgil tried to help, obviously knowing just as much about Logan’s coffee stash as Patton, but Patton shooed him into a seat. He looked like he needed to conserve as much energy as possible.

Patton filled the coffee pot all the way up, planning to give Logan some as well.

“I had a lemonade coffee earlier today,” Patton said as he watched the dark liquid start to dribble out of the machine and into the pot below.

“A lemonade coffee?” Virgil asked. “Like a warm one or…”

“Iced,” Patton said. “It’s, er, it was August. There’s a coffee shop I like near the university I’ve been attending. They have specials and that was one of their summer ones. I was about to start my third year.”

“Sorry,” Virgil said.

Patton turned to him. “Why are you sorry?”

“My magic dragged you back here,” he said. “You had a whole life going and it just plopped you back here in my mess.”

“It’s not your fault,” Patton said. “Besides I…” he trailed off for a moment. “I think I was probably dying there. Everything was weird and confusing, but if the sketchbook resorted to time travel, I think me almost dying is probably why. So, being back here is better than the alternative, slug or no.”

“Still,” Virgil said. “Even if you survive today… again, you’re probably trapped in this time. You wouldn’t be able to go back to the life you made.”

“I’d be able to get back,” Patton said, cheerfully. “Just the long way around.”

Virgil didn’t say anything.

“And what about you?” Patton asked. “With 742 pictures and 12 hours per picture that…”

“I really don’t want to calculate the number,” he interrupted.

Patton looked at him sadly for a moment but didn’t push. Virgil didn’t offer anything else to break the silence, so they stayed quiet until the coffee pot finished running.

It wasn’t until after he was already handing Virgil a cup of coffee that he realized he’d automatically added 1 spoonful of sugar and a dash of coffee creamer to Virgil’s cup.

“Sorry,” he said, reaching halfway back to the cup he’d just set down, unsure if he should take it back or not. “I didn’t ask how you like it.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil said, his eyes lingering on Patton’s hand as he withdrew it fully. “That is how I like it.”

“Oh,” Patton said. “Uh, okay.”

He turned away and quickly put 2 spoons of sugar and a bit more creamer into Logan’s cup before walking it over to his brother. Logan was flipping through the book at an alarmingly fast pace, a sort of awed look on his face that he only got when reading about new dinosaur fossils being discovered.

Patton poked the back of his hand. “Coffee,” he said, and Logan’s hand automatically came over to take it without him looking up.

Patton stepped away and returned to Virgil. Virgil had his eyes closed and he looked almost like he was napping in his chair, but his mouth opened when Patton drew near.

“Coffee’s one of the few things that never gets old,” he said.

“Is it?” Patton asked, amused.

Virgil nodded. “You learn to appreciate things like that.” He opened his eyes to look at Patton. “Most things can’t retain their beauty forever. You start to see the flaws in your favorite painting in the art room. Your favorite song on the radio starts to get boring. Your favorite snacks you pack in your bookbag get old. Even the sunset gets boring once you’ve seen the same one so many times.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Some things don’t lose their beauty though, no matter how many times around you go.”

“What are some others?” Patton asked.

Virgil tilted his head up to look at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “Birds.” He nodded to himself. “There’s a couple of birds that have a nest outside the history room. I think one of them is going to lay eggs soon. The nest looks like an actual wreck. I’m pretty sure they’ve used gum wrappers for it and the male bird’s chirping is off. It sounds like it’s shrieking half of the time.”

He tapped his fingers against the desk, thinking for a couple more seconds, eyes still on the ceiling.

“And the song they’re learning in third period band,” he continued. “To be honest, it did start to annoy me at one point, but it ended up coming full circle and I enjoy it again. I could probably pick out each instrument’s part by now. One of the clarinets is always flat and the drummer misses the beat during the reprise, but that almost makes it more fun.”

Then, he tilted his head back down to glance at Patton.

“And you,” he said.

“Me?” asked Patton.

“No matter how many times I’ve met you,” Virgil said. “There’s still something more to learn about you. You’re always surprising me and they’re always good surprises.”

“Oh,” Patton said, face warming just a bit.

“Except for the fact that you like pickles,” Virgil said, looking away. “For that you are a creature of darkness that should burn in hell.”

Patton giggled a bit and Virgil smiled back.

“That’s why so many of my drawings are of you,” he admitted. “You always manage to inspire me.”

“I, uh, yeah, I guess that… makes sense,” Patton said, stammering a bit at the sentiment.

“Also, Roman’s about to barge into the room.”

“Wh-”

The door to the classroom slammed open half a second after Virgil spoke, causing Patton to jump despite the warning.

“Patton, where have you been?!” Roman asked, dramatically flinging his backpack onto the nearest desk. “I’ve been waiting at the flagpole for hours.”

Patton didn’t remember this day perfectly, but considering school had let out less than 30 minutes ago, he doubted the validity of the complaint.

“You and Logan are supposed to give me a ride home since Mom went to the city to see Remus’s art exhibit”

“Ah, sorry Roman,” Patton said. “We’re a little busy…”

“You?!” Roman said accusingly, pointing at Virgil. Virgil’s head hit the desk with an audible thunk. “What are you doing here? You ruined my entire day by abandoning me and our history project, you know that?”

“God, if I knew I’d have to talk to him sometime today, I wouldn’t have done that,” Patton heard Virgil mumble into the desk.

“Roman, could we possibly use our inside voice?” Patton asked, patiently.

Roman turned to pout at him, pointing at Virgil again. “He…”

“You know the movie Before I Fall?” Virgil asked.

“The one where the girl dies and ends up in a time loop?” Roman asked.

Virgil pointed to himself, his cheek still on the desk. “My life.”

Roman’s nose scrunched up. “You expect me to believe you’re in a time loop? He scoffed. “That’s why you abandoned me this morning? What game are you playing?”

Virgil just groaned. “I could never convince him if I left history class,” he grumbled.

“He’s telling the truth, Roman,” Patton said.

Roman turned to him. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

“I 100% believe that,” Patton said, reaching forward to pat Virgil on the back.

“What makes you so sure?” Roman asked.

“Well, I don’t remember the time loops like Virgil here,” Patton said, patting him again, “but this morning I woke up in my new apartment getting ready to start my third year of university, and this afternoon I ended up back in high school right next to Virgil who’d been dead for years. So, I’m not going to question when someone tells me funky time things are going on.”

“What’s this about you being from the future?” Logan inquired, looking up from his desk.

“What do you mean he’s been dead?!” Roman asked.

“Giant magic slug monster,” Virgil said. “Going to eat the town. Magic sketchbook helps me time travel. I was planning to die to save the town. Patton got the magic sketchbook. Patton time traveled.”

“What?” said Roman.

“And this giant magical slug would be the stellmax creature in this book, yes?” Logan asked, ignoring Roman.

“You’re verifiably the smartest person in this town, Logan,” Virgil said.

“I presume you do not happen to have the next book in this series?” Logan asked.

“Nope,” Virgil said, popping the ‘p.’

“Ah.”

“And before you ask,” Virgil continued, “there aren’t any other magic books in town, and we’re currently trapped in town with no way to contact the outside world.”

“And I suppose…”

“Yes,” Virgil said. “We spent a whole 7 rounds in here coming up with every possible solution until you ran out, and I’ve tried them all. Except…” He trailed off, glancing away, “the last one.”

“Which is?” Logan prompted.

“The one where I slit my wrists to put it in a magic food coma.”

“And that’s the future I’m from,” Patton interjected.

Logan thought for a few long moments. “So, we’ve apparently exhausted every avenue with Virgil’s knowledge,” he said, pressing his fingertips together, “and the knowledge available within our physical constraints. So, there’s no use attempting to go down any of those paths. I will not come up with anything new with those limitations. Therefore, any chance we’d have to fix this issue would come from your knowledge, Patton, as you are the only new variable.”

“Sorry, we’re all just blindly accepting emo boy’s magic slug story?” Roman asked Logan. “Even you?”

“He had the code,” Logan replied.

“The code?”

Logan turned away from Roman without any more explanation. “What information have you acquired since the last time you experienced this day?”

“Uh,” Patton said, biting his lip. “Well, a lot. It’s been years. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I’d imagine,” said Logan, “that the more pertinent data would likely be temporally near the relevant incident.”

“Uh…”

“What happened directly after the end of the time loop?” Logan clarified. “The future where Virgil dies?”

“Well,” Patton said. “I didn’t know there was a time loop or that anything,” he waved his hand at the book in front of Logan, “magic was going on. Plus, it’s been years, so I don’t really remember things exactly.”

“Anything you can remember is more information than we’ve had up until this point,” Logan pointed out, sitting forward.

“Right,” Patton said, closing his eyes and attempting to cast his mind back as far as it would go. “Okay. So, from what I remember hearing, Virgil’s foster parents called the police after he was gone all night. That’d be tonight. They ended up finding him on the top of the hill outside of town. He’d, uh, slit his own wrist and bled out which I guess was the plan to overfeed the slug.” Patton twined and untwined his fingers with each other. “It was a big story,” he said. “Everyone was talking about it. Since Virgil was a ward of the state, special investigators came into town to investigate his suicide.”

“Special investigators?” Logan said. “State police? FBI? CIA?”

“Uh,” Patton said with a frown. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if they ever said.”

“And how did they investigate?”

“Er,” Patton said. “They came in trucks the next day. There were a lot of them, actually.” He paused to think. “Actually… I think I remember Ms. Jenkins, our neighbor,” he added for Virgil’s benefit even though Virgil might already know her, “saying she saw them earlier in the day before the news of Virgil’s death broke.”

“Interesting,” Logan said, “but it’s also possible the news had just not broken publicly.”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed. “I don’t know.”

“And what happened that next day?”

“Hmm, well, they interviewed pretty much everyone in town who’d ever looked at him once.”

“That’s quite the investigation for the supposed suicide of a teenage boy, ward of the state or not,” Logan mused. Patton let his eyes flicker open as Logan turned to Virgil. “You know far more about magic than the rest of us, do you know if there could possibly be a magical organization that would help in issues such as a stellmax attack, or at the very least one that would clean up the damage after one?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I mean, maybe. I know there is a magical society. Mom and Dad used to talk about basically a council of people that acted sort of like a governing body.”

“A governing body implies there are very likely people working for them. Considering the general public is unaware of magical goings-on, it is even more likely there is some sort of clean-up crew that came into town to investigate what had happened and ensure no one knew anything was amiss with Virgil’s death.” He thought for a moment. Then he looked at Patton. “Did they interview you?”

“Yeah,” Patton said. “Actually a few times, more than most people.”

Logan titled his head. “Why?” he asked.

“I’m not sure exactly,” Patton said. “There was one investigator, Janus Lial. He seemed to think I knew something about Virgil or was connected to him more than I was letting on which was, sort of true, I guess.” He glanced at the sketchbook sitting innocently on the desk next to Virgil’s hand. “I didn’t know how much at the time, but it was true that I was hiding the fact that Virgil had given me his sketchbook right before he'd died.”

“Ah, yes, the sketchbook,” Logan said, following Patton’s gaze. “I assume since you marked the section on ‘time anchor’ that this is your time anchor.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, his hand reaching over to flip idly through a few pages before letting it close again. “It’s the only physical object that remains unchanged through the loops.”

“Wait,” Patton said, an idea slowly creeping into his mind. He wasn’t sure if the sketchbook remained the same only within the time loops or with time travel in general but… He grabbed the sketchbook from Virgil’s grip.

“What?” Virgil asked, startled as Patton started to flip through the pages.

“Janus gave me his business card in case I remembered anything else after my first interview. I stuck it in the back of the sketchbook in case I ever decided to come clean about it. I don’t know how the sketchbook works, but if it can keep things like pencil markings and paint through time travel, maybe it’d also keep that.”

He flipped to one of the last pages where the business card had been stuck and basically forgotten about all of those years ago. The business card was there, though it wasn’t a business card anymore. It looked like an image that had been printed on the page, but it still had all of the information the card had once had.

“It’s here.”

“So,” Logan said. “If he really is a part of some agency that cleans up magical messes, we could contact him, and perhaps he could help.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Slight problem. He’s definitely outside the city and any message trying to go out of town will be blocked.”

“Right,” Logan said. “So, we would have to somehow get out of town in order to call him.”

“Which I’ve already learned many, many times is not possible with what we have in town,” Virgil said.

“But,” Patton said, “we have something extra this time.” He gestured to the sketchbook laid out in front of him.

“The sketchbook?” Logan said. “I understood that it had been here the entire time.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, “but Virgil accidently gave it an extra magical boost when he gave it to me.” He looked at Virgil. “It’s a protection charm basically, yeah?”

“It is,” Virgil said, his eyes starting to narrow.

“And it’s for me. So it’d work best with me.”

Virgil’s lips pursed, clearly not liking where this was going. “Well, yes.”

“How’s the slug keeping us in town?” Patton asked. “You said it basically swallowed us, right, so we’re in something.”

“Yeah, it’s like a membrane covered in stomach acid.”

“Would stomach acid burn me if I was holding this?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him “Absolutely not,” he said. “You are not doing what I know you’re thinking about doing.”

“It sent me back through time to save my life once,” Patton pointed out. “I think it could get me out of the mouth of a slug monster.”

“There’s no way we could know that,” Virgil said, standing up from the desk. “Magic interacts weirdly with magic. The slug eats magic! For all we know, it’d just swallow you and the book whole, and we’d all be doomed, without even a time tether.”

“The sketchbook was enough to undo the damage the slug did over and over again. Why couldn’t it get me through once with the extra boost?”

“That’s not how it works!” Virgil said.

“Sorry, what is this protection charm?” Logan interrupted.

“It’s called a praetectio charm. I’m not even sure how they’re made, let alone how I managed to make one, but I did for Patton.”

“Well,” Logan said. “The stellmax is a formidable threat from what I discerned from the passage I read on it, but it is by no means a cosmic horror or undefeatable.” He looked at Virgil who looked quite cross at that statement. “Perhaps it seems so at this point to you based on your inability to defeat it permanently with your current knowledge and resources, but if this protection charm is truly powerful, it might work.”

“I’m not risking Patton for a chance.” Virgil argued back. “I agreed to try one more time for Patton, but not if it risks him.”

“Could someone else use the book to get out?” Roman asked.

“Volunteering, Princey?” Virgil asked skeptically. Roman narrowed his eyes and Virgil snorted. “Leave your hero complex at home. It only works for Patton.”

“Even if it doesn’t work, can’t you just undo it?” Roman asked. “Isn’t that how time loops work?”

“Even if I have the magic for another round,” Virgil said, “there’s no guarantee that the time loop will still work the same on him when he’s from the future. Or if he manages to get out of the town, I’m not sure if resetting time would bring him back into town or if he’d get trapped outside. I don’t know what memories he’d have or what could happen. Not to mention if the time anchor gets destroyed.”

“We have to try,” Patton said.

“No,” Virgil said, blankly. “We don’t.”

Patton decided he was done sitting at a desk and looking up at Virgil. He stood himself and grabbed the sketchbook, clutching it to his chest. “I have to try,” he decided. “Come along and help if you want.”

Virgil frowned at him. Patton frowned back.

“I am a scientist,” Logan said, interrupting their frowning contest. “We will not throw him directly into stomach acid and see if he explodes. We could perhaps just have him stick a finger in and see if the proposed plan is even viable.”

“It’s not worth the risk. I should just handle this in the way I know will work.” Virgil looked directly into Patton’s eyes. “The way we know will work.”

Patton scowled at him.

“You mean, you die?” Logan confirmed.

Virgil clenched his jaw. He nodded decisively.

“Have you considered,” Logan said after a moment of thought, “that you are not the only autonomous person here. I know it is hard to remember in the best of times, let alone when you have repeated the same day so many times that people begin to appear like computer programs, but outside of this time loop, people are people. They grow and change and make their own decisions. Patton is the only person outside of this looping day you have met in a long time. You should listen to him. It is his choice to risk possible harm when it could save lives, just as you have made that choice yourself multiple times.” Logan titled his head, peering at him from behind his glasses. “It’s his choice to try, and I think the person he’s trying to save is worth the risk.”

Virgil stared at him, clearly surprised. “…When did you become a philosopher, dude?”

“People can always surprise you,” Logan said with a small smile.

“Apparently,” Virgil agreed, still clearly a bit thrown. He looked back at Patton, who did his best to look determined. Virgil sighed after a moment. “We test to see if it’s even possible,” he conceded. “If it’s not, we go back to plan A.”

“If it’s not, we try something else,” Patton insisted.

“Sure, Pat,” Virgil said, clearly not agreeing, but not arguing. That was enough for now.

“Just so everyone knows,” Roman butted in, “I still am not 100% believing this, but let’s see what I think when I see the giant slug mouth.”

Chapter 4: Hill to Die On

The party of four loaded into Logan’s car to drive towards the hill at the edge of town. Patton let Roman sit in the front seat, wanting to sit in the back with Virgil. Virgil looked nervous, though really, Patton had never known him to not look nervous. There was a soft itch in the back of his head that said he’d known this for much longer than Patton could actively remember. Patton slid his hand over and let Virgil hold it during the ride.

Roman spent the first half of the ride fiddling with his phone. “Okay, so,” Roman said after a bit. “I’m still not sure if I believe the whole giant magic slug thing, but I tried to call Remus and both of my parents, and they won’t pick up. Remus hasn’t answered any of my texts all day, but I didn’t think anything of it. Though now that I think about it, he’s chronically on his phone.”

“People don’t question the phone lines being down unless they already know something’s wrong,” Virgil explained, squeezing Patton’s hand. “It’s part of the slug’s magic. It doesn’t want its prey to realize anything is wrong, so it projects a light mental field. It’s also why you can’t see it.”

“Or maybe Remus is just being flaky.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve honestly never met him. I wouldn’t know. All I know is what you’ve told me about him. It doesn’t sound like he wouldn’t text you back for a whole day.”

Roman went back to fiddling with his phone, a bit more nervously this time.

“He’s starting to believe me.” Virgil leaned over and spoke softly so only Patton could hear him. “If he’s starting to question the phone lines, he’s starting to think the story’s plausible.” Virgil sighed. “But, he’s so much more stubborn when I’m a jerk to him in history.”

“He can hold a grudge,” Patton said, amused.

Virgil half smiled, but then the smile dropped a moment later. “I don’t like you risking yourself,” he said softly.

“Well,” Patton said, “I don’t like you risking yourself.”

Virgil frowned. “It’s different.”

“How’s it different?” Patton asked.

“I’m already dead,” Virgil replied. He looked down at his and Patton’s entwined hands instead of looking Patton in the eye. “For you, I’ve been dead for years.”

“You’re not dead though,” Patton argued. He squeezed the hand in his. It was a little chilly, and Patton wasn’t sure if Virgil was naturally cold or if the origin of the chill was the same as the origin for his pale face and tired eyes. Yet the hand was still very obviously attached to a living boy. “You don’t feel dead. You never felt dead even when I didn’t know you.”

Virgil didn’t have a retort, and they spent the rest of the ride to the hill in silence, though they never let go of each other’s hands.

They had to park at the base of the hill and make the trek up by foot. Virgil carried the sketchbook in his arms. Patton couldn’t help but think about how Virgil had once walked up this hill without anyone else by his side. He knew the Virgil beside him hadn’t taken that walk, but a very similar version of him had. Patton wondered what he was thinking when he climbed over the fallen branches on the footpath. He’d probably been scared, Patton thought. Scared and alone.

There was nothing clearly wrong with the landscape to Patton’s eyes when they crested the hill. Yet still something seemed… off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something wasn’t right.

“So, where’s this giant slug monster?” Roman asked.

Wordlessly, Virgil bent down and picked up a small stone. He threw it a few feet in front of himself. Yet instead of falling in a typical arch and bouncing down the hill, it stopped suddenly in midair. Then, it started to slowly slide down.

As Patton watched, the stone seemed to pull away whatever illusion there was around them. As it slipped down an inch, it revealed a slimy, greenish-yellow, pulsing wall behind it. Gravity fought against a sticky web-like substance keeping the rock attached to the wall. It slowly continued its descent towards the ground, revealing more and more of the wall as it did. When it hit the ground, the reveal didn’t stop. Now that Patton could see the wall, more and more of it came into focus with every blink.

It wasn’t a wall. This was the stomach of the slug, and it stretched far left and right and curled over their heads.

“That’s the slug,” Virgil explained, though he really didn’t need to. “Or at least its mouth/stomach thing.”

“Stomach,” Logan said. “It’s an everted stomach. Very few animals have them. Even less use them to eat and not to expel inedible food. It’s similar to how a starfish eats clam shells. It will pull open the shells until there’s a slight crack, before forcing its stomach into the shell. Then, it will partially digest its prey alive before sucking it and the stomach back inside its body.

“Ew!” Roman said. He’d already been looking a bit squeamish at the slug being revealed, but now he looked on the verge of throwing up.

“In this case,” Logan continued. “We are the clams.”

“Thanks,” Roman said. “I’ll be sure to have nightmares about that for the rest of time if I survive to dream again.”

“I’m guessing the webby stuff is the stomach acid?” Patton asked. His nose scrunched up. The longer he was able to perceive the slug stomach, the more and more a putrid smell started wafting from it.

“Yeah, it burns like hell,” Virgil confirmed. “I only tried to touch it a few times.”

Patton nodded determinedly. “Hand me the sketchbook,” he said to Virgil.

Virgil clutched the sketchbook closer to him. “I’m not kidding,” he said. “Touching it really hurts, and you most likely won’t get a reset.”

“I’ll just go pick up the rock and see if that works,” Patton promised. “It’s probably already somewhat dry by now, so I’ll just get a taste first.” Patton internally winced at his own phrasing. He did not want a taste of the green goop coming from the slug’s stomach wall.

“What if it still burns you? What if the stuff on the rock is too dry and then you’re overconfident and get burned when you touch the actual stomach? What if it works for a small amount of the acid, but then when you’re halfway through it starts eating through the protection spell and you die anyway? I’m not powerful. I’m not even technically a mage. What if my magic fails you?”

“You are plenty powerful,” Patton said. “Your magic hasn’t failed me before, has it?”

Virgil stared at him for a long moment.

“Come on,” Patton said. “One step at a time. Let me pick up the rock.”

Virgil looked away, but he did hand over the sketchbook.

“Thanks,” Patton said, grabbing it.

He took a breath and turned towards the wall. If he’d thought the smell was getting bad a few feet away, it was nothing compared to how horrible it started to smell as he approached. He swallowed back bile and was careful to maintain his balance as he crouched down near the edge so as to not accidentally fall against the stomach wall. He carefully reached out with the arm not holding the sketchbook and picked up the rock that Virgil had thrown. It was still covered in slime and felt… very unpleasant against his skin. He felt a slight tingle and the sketchbook warmed under his touch, but it didn’t hurt at all. He held up the rock for the others to see.

Virgil was frowning despite Patton’s skin not burning, probably because it wasn’t burning. He knew that meant Patton was going to try more. In fact, Patton turned to the slug’s stomach wall and cautiously put his hand against it. He was able to push his fist slowly through the slimy wall like it was a particularly stiff, very, very gross wall of Jell-O.

“Patton!” Virgil scolded.

“I’m fine,” Patton said, drawing his hand back. The stomach wall closed in around the hole he’d made almost instantly, with a wet squelch. Patton’s hand was now covered in the slimy stomach acid and smelled distinctly of vomit. “Ew,” he said, holding the hand as far away from his face, and in particular his nose, that he could.

Virgil came towards him, and Patton put his slime-covered hand behind his back, remembering it was supposed to burn anyone who didn’t have magical protection. Virgil grabbed Patton by the arm clutching the sketchbook and dragged him back away from the wall towards the others.

“It’s fine,” Patton promised. “It doesn’t hurt at all. I think this will work. I think I can get out.”

Virgil looked very distressed by this. “I still don’t think… this isn’t a good idea.” His eyes traveled to the already almost closed hole in the stomach wall. Then, he looked back at Patton. “You shouldn’t… You don’t have to do this.”

“I do,” Patton replied simply. “I really think I do.”

“He will be fine,” Logan assured.

“You don’t know that,” Virgil snapped, turning to Logan.

“Perhaps not 100%,” Logan conceded. “I know very little about magic, but logic says if the spell on the sketchbook is holding for now, that it should continue to hold long enough for Patton to get outside. The stellmax’s stomach, while difficult to get through because of its acid, is not particularly thick. Honestly, putting his fist through like that likely went about a quarter of the way. It will hold, Virgil.”

“And it’s a better chance than the alternative,” Patton said. “You have to let me go.”

Virgil said nothing.

Logan leaned forward past Virgil, who was still clinging to Patton’s arm, and in an unusual show of physical affection, kissed Patton on the forehead.

“You’ll be fine,” Patton’s brother declared.

“I will be,” Patton said, nodding decisively.

“Don’t forget to take off your glasses,” he said, “and here.” Logan offered him a handkerchief. “Put it in your pocket for once you’re through.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, taking the piece of cloth and stuffing it completely in his pants pocket. He more carefully put his glasses in his shirt pocket. “I wouldn’t have thought about that.”

Roman went in for a hug then, and Patton screeched, turning away and curling to keep away the side of his body covered in acid. “Side hug Roman! Side hug!”

“Oh… right,” Roman said. Patton slowly uncurled and Virgil released his not goopy arm to let Roman awkwardly side-hug him.

Then Patton turned back to Virgil. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. He leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“You…” Virgil said and then trailed off. “You really have to come back,” Virgil said. “Tomorrow isn’t worth it without you.”

“I know the feeling,” said Patton with a ghost of a smile and an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite pin down, and then he turned away, back towards the wall. He took a step away from the group, towards where he’d been standing before.

He took a deep breath and grimaced at the putrid smell but held it anyway. He clutched the sketchbook in one arm and put the other up in front of him to try to somewhat clear a path as he walked, not that it did any good; the gooey substance swallowed his arm as he pushed up against it. With one last internal “ew,” he closed his eyes and forced himself to step inside the wall.

The worst part was it was warm. It felt like he’d stepped into a vat of warm nacho cheese, but this was something that he definitely did not want to open his mouth and taste. When he took a second step forward, the substance around him seemed to solidify even more, turning from feeling like walking through Jell-O to walking through warm peanut butter. Crunchy, warm, peanut butter.

He was almost afraid he’d get stuck as the substance became more solid and sticky, squeezing in on him from all sides. However, just when he thought he’d either have to turn back or risk getting actually stuck, he felt the sketchbook start to radiate warmth up his arm. The substance gave way abruptly and Patton fell straight on his face, rolling slightly downhill before he managed to stop himself.

Not willing to risk opening his eyes or mouth yet, he blindly reached for the handkerchief Logan had given him. He wiped off his mouth the best he could, which was honestly far from as much as he would have liked, before he was forced to take a breath. He gagged, wiping at his mouth more and doing his best not to breathe through his nose.

He eventually gave up wiping around his mouth and started scrubbing at the goop around his eyes. It was hardening, unfortunately. When he thought he’d done the best he was going to, he peeled his eyes open. He grabbed his glasses from his pocket and stuck them on his face.

He glanced at the wall he’d just walked through. He could not see the other side, but he could see a black Patton-shaped mark that looked like a burn. The wall was slowly trying to fix it, but it seemed to be struggling with that more than it had when Patton had just pushed his arm through. Patton patted the sketchbook in thanks, still not letting go of it. He didn’t doubt that if he let go of it the acid would still try to eat him alive, even outside the slug’s stomach.

The sketchbook, for its part, also had some goop on it, but the slime had rolled up into little balls like water droplets might gather on car windshields during the rain. He was able to flick them mostly off and turn to the page that had Janus’s business card embedded into it.

He awkwardly tried to wipe off his free hand with the already dirty handkerchief, the other hand still clutching the sketchbook, but eventually just decided to grab his phone out of his back pocket and hope the protection of the sketchbook extended to a device in Patton’s hand.

The screen lit up like normal when Patton tapped at it, so it at least hadn’t instantly broken. He unlocked the phone, silently thankful that he never did get around to changing the lock code he used even when he changed phones.

Now that the phone was no longer in his back pocket, he carefully settled on the ground with the sketchbook in his lap. He dialed the number on the business card and put the phone on speaker so he wouldn’t get it messier putting it up to his ear. He settled it on top of the sketchbook.

“Hello. What?” The voice that came over the phone was snappy, but also familiar. Patton had never been so relieved to hear the man’s voice.

“Is this Janus Lial?” Patton asked, just to make sure.

A pause. “Yes. Who is this?”

“My name’s Patton,” Patton said. “I’m from Kairos Hill.”

There was a sharp intake of breath which prompted Patton to take a much more relieved breath. If the town name got that reaction, that was a good sign.

“How are you calling me?” Janus demanded.

“I got out,” Patton said. “I used a sketchbook. Virgil, my friend, made a protection charm thing out of it, and I was able to walk out of town.”

“Okay,” Janus said, voice just a touch frantic. “Alright. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the top of the hill on the west side of town, right outside the, uh, slug stomach if you’re able to see that.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Janus said. Then Patton heard him saying something muffled to someone else. “We’re just a couple of miles from there on the main highway. We’ll be there in a minute. Okay, Patton, was it?”

“Yeah,” Patton confirmed. “You have until 10:37pm.”

Other sounds could be heard in the background now, voices and the sounds of vehicles. “Can you tell me what’s going on in town?” Janus asked.

“Virgil made a time loop,” Patton said. “The town’s been looping over and over again. I managed to get ahold of your business card in the future. That’s uh, even more complicated than the time loop, but I got your business card. We thought I could probably get through the walls of the slug thing’s stomach if I was holding the protection charm Virgil accidently made me, and we were right.”

“A time loop, huh?” Janus asked. “That’s a lot of magic. Very impressive.”

“Yeah,” Patton said softly, “but he’s getting really tired.”

“I’d imagine he would be,” Janus said. “It’s okay though. We’ll get it sorted.”

Patton nodded even though no one was there to see it. “What are you?” Patton asked.

“We’re called the MIU. It’s our job to deal with things like this. We’ve been trying to get through to Kairos Hill since this morning, but the outside shell of stellmax’s are hard to crack. We tried to find the mouth but couldn’t. That’s usually the only chance you have to get in or out. I assume that’s where you are.”

“Probably,” Patton said. “I don’t really know too much about it.”

“We did check there,” Janus said. “I’m surprised we somehow missed it. It seems like a slightly different species than what we’re used to. It’s still something we’ll be able to deal with if we can get inside though, I’m sure.”

Patton could already hear a few vehicles approaching, though it was a bit difficult to see when he was sitting, and there were a few trees about.

“We’re almost there,” said Janus.

“Okay,” Patton replied. He forced himself to his feet and looked in the direction of the noise. He waved with the hand clutching his phone when he saw a line of black cars.

Despite the hill not having a road or good terrain for a car, the vehicles seemed to have no trouble pulling up to the top of the hill. Janus was the first person to get out of one of the cars. He beelined straight to Patton. However, he hesitated, not getting too close.

“I assume since you’re covered in digestive fluid and holding a sketchbook and cellphone that you would be Patton,” Janus said.

Patton nodded.

“Someone get him something to clean off with,” Janus barked to the other people getting out of the cars.

They spent about 10 minutes cleaning Patton off, first with a hose thing that made the goop ball up like it had on the sketchbook. They also made him drink some horrible tasting milky liquid just in case he’d accidently swallowed any of the acid. (Patton was thankful for it no matter how bad it tasted; at least he knew it wasn’t slug digestive goo.)

He was able to put the sketchbook down after that and they let him into the back of one of the trucks to take a real shower. He was given a clean hoodie and some sweatpants that were too large afterwards.

When Patton stepped back out of the truck, Janus was staring at the still slowly healing Patton-shaped burn mark on the wall.

“That’s where I got out,” Patton said. He’d grabbed the sketchbook after his shower and was holding it against his chest again.

Janus nodded and turned to him, looking Patton up and down. “You are absolutely covered in magic,” he commented.

“Well, I did just walk through a magic slug,” Patton pointed out.

Janus shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’ve definitely been around a mage for quite some time.”

“Virgil said he’s not technically a mage yet,” Patton said.

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I think he qualifies if he managed to pull off what you said he did.” His eyes darted to the sketchbook then. “That must be a very powerful protection charm.” He tilted his head. “A praetectio if I’m not mistaken.”

“It is,” Patton confirmed.

“Those are very powerful things. It burned away the stellmax’s shell,” Janus said. “To be fair, it’s weaker near the mouth than other areas, but it’s still impressive. Would you mind trying to use it to get back through? With the appropriate equipment this time, of course. It will cut down on the time it takes to get us in.”

“Sure,” Patton said, even though walking through the horrible sludge again didn’t sound especially fun after having just gotten clean.

Luckily, it turned out that the equipment Janus had mentioned meant that Patton wouldn’t have to get all gross again. A little box was clipped to his shirt by a woman at Janus’s bequest. When the box’s button was pressed, a suit came out to encase Patton. It looked kind of like an astronaut suit but was a bit slimmer and missing an oxygen tank on the back. It also somehow adjusted to account for the sketchbook clutched to Patton’s chest, covering the book as well as Patton’s hand.

He was told that if he tapped the button three times, the suit would fold back up into the box automatically in a manner that would keep the liquid on it from getting on anything, which was a vast improvement over Patton’s clothes from before.

“You’ll go first,” Janus told him, also outfitted with one of the packs along with a case Patton didn’t know the use for. “That protection charm will only really work if you’re holding it. You burn a path and I’ll follow.”

“I can do that,” Patton agreed with a nod.

“Then, let’s go,” Janus said.

Patton still closed his eyes when approaching the slug’s stomach wall. He pushed against the still struggling to close hole burnt into the side, and it gave under pressure. The same warmth from the sketchbook from earlier started up, and the stomach wall gave even more. He could feel Janus’s covered hand grip onto his arm as he followed Patton into the hole he was making.

Walking through seemed quicker this time. Patton couldn’t tell if that was because he wasn’t agonizing over the goop pressing against him, or if it was because he’d already forced a hole here once. The further they went the easier it began to be to move through the wall, going back to that Jell-O consistency from the inside.

Patton stumbled out onto the other side of the wall after a few slow steps, Janus coming quickly behind him. He opened his eyes, but the entire front visor of his suit was covered in the goop. Blindly, he felt for the button that would make the suit retreat and pressed it three times. There was a startling snap and whirring sound as the entire suit folded up back into the pack, leaving Patton completely clean.

“Patton!” Virgil exclaimed. He was already right in front of him. Logan and Roman were hanging back a bit still. “Are you alright?”

Patton shot him a grin. “Still a bit nauseous from…” he waved his hand at the wall and continued to try to forget the bit that definitely went in his mouth, “but I’m good and I brought back up.”

Virgil turned to face Janus who had also deactivated his suit. “Janus, I’m guessing?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, and I’d presume you are Virgil,” Janus said.

Virgil nodded.

“I hear you made a stable time loop to save this town,” Janus said with a head tilt, his eyes scrutinizing the boy in front of him. “I’m impressed.”

“Uh, thanks,” Virgil said. “It was more instinct than anything.”

“Well,” Janus replied, “that’s what magic is a lot of the time.” Janus took a step forward to clasp him on the shoulder. Virgil wavered under it, and Patton didn’t think it was because Janus was particularly strong. Janus seemed to come to the same conclusion. “I’ve got it from here though,” he said. “You can sit down and rest.”

“How?” Virgil asked, shrugging off the suggestion to rest.

“It’s actually relatively easy to get rid of a stellmax,” Janus said, though then he paused. “At least, it is from the inside with the correct equipment and knowledge. Basically, I just need to inject it with a toxin to make it release the town and then my team on the outside will work on containment.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

“I’ll tell you more about it once the threat is gone,” Janus promised, “if for now you sit.”

“Come on, sweetie,” Patton said, tugging on his sleeve. Virgil let Patton guide him to a small patch of grass. Patton pulled him down onto it while Roman and Logan stepped over to stand over them and watch what Janus was doing.

Janus opened the case he’d brought and pulled out 6 metal triangles about the size of Patton’s hand. He set them all up near the slug’s stomach wall and then backed up towards their little group. A few seconds later, all 6 of the objects shot up like fireworks and exploded near the part of the stomach that curved over them.

There was a weird shrieking noise on the wind, and then the walls of the slug were suddenly gone, revealing the same group of cars Patton had seen on the other side and the sunset in the distance.

Virgil slumped against Patton as soon as the slug disappeared. “Is it really gone?” he asked.

“It is,” Janus confirmed.

“It’s over,” Patton said.

“Cool,” Virgil said, and then passed out cold on top of Patton.

Epilogue: A Brownie in a Coffee Shop

“Don’t be boring,” Patton complained.

“I’m not boring,” Virgil replied, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Coffee is good.”

“Coffee is good,” Patton agreed. “I have coffee, but having the same coffee every day is boring.”

“You don’t have coffee,” Virgil said. “You have an abomination.”

“Just try it!” Patton insisted.

“No.”

Patton pouted, but Virgil just avoided his gaze, so he didn’t give in and try Patton’s coffee lemonade. Patton had been trying all month to get him to try it, but he wouldn’t.

It was the middle of July, and it was a month before Patton and Virgil started their third year of university. It had taken Patton a lot longer to get to that third than he’d expected.

He and Virgil had ended up getting an apartment in their first year, Patton not wanting to do dorm life again with a bunch of freshmen and Virgil not liking the idea of showering with a bunch of strangers.

They didn’t usually go home to Kairos Hill for the summer. Virgil didn’t care to visit his old foster family, and Logan traveled a lot since he’d gotten a job with the MIU.

“Their summer specials are really good,” Patton said when Virgil gave him no attention.

“So is their plain coffee,” Virgil said with a snort. He was still avoiding Patton’s gaze, bending over to grab his sketchbook out of his backpack.

The sketchbook he pulled out was almost full, but not quite. Logan would be coming by in a few weeks to wish them well for their next year at college and would doubtlessly bring by a fresh one just as he’d get Patton a new planner. Virgil usually took a year to fill a sketchbook if he gave himself a whole page per drawing instead of cramming multiple onto one page.

The sketchbook with 743 drawings crammed into it was in Patton’s backpack at the moment, even though it had long been finished, with one last drawing made 24 hours after the giant slug monster’s eventual defeat.

“Roman will drink your abomination when he comes to town,” Virgil said, twirling a pencil between his fingers as he studied a blank page.

“But I want you to drink it!” Patton insisted.

“Mmm, sucks.”

He still would not look at Patton and Patton’s puppy dog eyes, even when Patton loudly huffed.

Roman was coming to town in a few weeks along with his twin brother Remus. Both of the twins were working with the MIU these days. They’d ended up joining up independently, since apparently some of Remus’s ‘behavioral problems’ that had gotten him expelled from their high school had been magic-related.

Janus was coming too. The MIU initially hadn’t been able to figure out what had happened in this city in the original timeline. Yet, after moving here for university, Virgil had spent a good amount of time researching and by the end of their first semester, he’d found a moth dragon egg in the city sewers. Janus had been impressed as no one else had been able to catch it. Virgil had been deemed the ‘bug expert’ to his and Logan’s chagrin. (Logan’s because a slug was not a bug.) It would have hatched to disastrous results in a few years if they hadn’t caught it.

Even though the threat that they assumed had almost killed Patton once was gone, there was still going to be a MIU presence in the town through the beginning of September.

Now it was still July though and when Virgil still wouldn’t give him attention, Patton sighed and reached for his planner.

They worked in silence for a bit. Patton peaked at Virgil’s drawing ever so often and couldn’t help but forgive the slight of Virgil not trying Patton’s coffee lemonade when he saw the sketch coming to life on the page. It was of Patton once again.

Virgil was invested in his drawing, not even pausing to sip on his coffee which was saying something for him. Patton felt his heart squeeze looking at him and instinctively reached for the sketchbook in his own bag.

The first drawing Patton could fully remember watching Virgil draw (though sometimes when he was on the verge of sleep other memories of the same thing drifted across his mind just out of reach) was the last one in this sketchbook.

It was a picture of the sunset the day after the time loop broke, and it was a perfect rendition from what Patton could remember. Most of the page was dedicated to that sunset, but in the corner, he could see a somewhat vague shape that he knew was Patton himself.

He’d watched Virgil sit in the grass drawing that picture. Virgil had looked at it for a long moment once it was finished and then closed the sketchbook. He’d given it to Patton permanently then. Patton had a lot of other drawings everywhere in their apartment to look at these days, but he still found himself opening this sketchbook often. The protection charm still buzzed merrily under his fingers.

“Are you going to eat that brownie?” Virgil asked curiously after looking up from his sketchbook.

“Yes, I’m going to eat my brownie!” Patton said with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even think about it mister.”

Virgil looked at him, and Patton did not look away quickly enough to avoid Virgil’s puppy dog eyes that were somehow even more potent than Patton’s own.

Patton sighed. “We’ll split it,” he said. “But only this time, mister.” It was a lie. It wasn’t the first or the last time.

Virgil grinned.

#sanders sides #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #tsss #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #adriana writes #742 #temporary major character death #temporary suicide #not pieces fic #gross out stuff

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clemjolichose · 2 years

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I wanna talk about my beloved characters from the novel I started writing, called "The Pictures of the Stars".

So-- have a post full of "Sanders Sides characters as my own characters".

In this world, you have Gradena, a city controlled by the company Oriam, which impleted chips in its population to make people emotionless...

Logan is Valentin Soleihr. The main character, who is supposed to have no emotion but strangely, a dysfunction led him to have anger issues. He is very fond of computer and space and loves inventing and creating nerdy stuff.

Patton is Saint Thomas. A foreigner who came with the Creator from the religious city of Tletma where some shit happened. He is extremely kind and innocent to the point of being oblivious of what's happening in Gradena.

Roman is Roman Cano-Créssis. One of No-kha's best friend along with Valentin, a genderqueer transfem person who loves being dramatic, but in dangerous situation, she is the most fierce and brave person you'll ever meet. She actually runs the economical part of the rebellion with Work Street, an underground organisation working to help finance Humard's science projects to fuck up Oriam's plans, but also the Yellow House's facility, which helps people out in the street, mainly queer people, women of colour and children. She's a badass with a big heart.

Virgil is No-kha déNith. The anxious mother of Lauda. Her chip works and she really has trouble having emotion, but the fear for her child who has a dysfunctional chip manages to get its way to her heart. She is the one who makes Valentin open his eyes on the situation, of which he was unaware after finally going out of the hospital following the rules.

Remus is Loyal. Valentin's love interest and former bestfriend through another identity. A he/they dumbass who loves fighting robots - he losts his arm because of it, and burned his face, and his leg, so he walks with a cane. He has BPD and Valentin is his favourite person. When they reunite, it's for the best ❤ they actually get along even after Loyal going ape shit. Ah, and he's asexual and a hopeless gay.

Janus is the Creator. A smart masked person who seems to lie a lot but manages to keep the situation in control. They've been easily employed and promoted by Oriam to the special rank pf Creator, overseeing all of the robots' production to make them the perfect slaves. Will they actually follow Oriam's instructions?

Bonus:

The twins as Aurélien Césarini and Vanessa Selmers, the twins who went two very different ways: Aurélien joined the revolution and struggled with his pride, having a hard time making friends, while Vanessa got married, had an affair, divorced, became the lover of the guy with whom she had an affair who was none other than Éric Ceor-Pré, the CEO of Oriam, and together they have a fucking toxic relationship.

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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My current favorite line from WIP Chapter 6:

Remus winked and Logan fought to keep a straight face.

Happily Ever After

Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time

Chapter 2: It Was a Bright Cold Day in April

Chapter 3: A Queer, Sultry Summer

Chapter 4: The Sun Did Not Shine

Chapter 5: Happy Families

Chapter 6: A Pleasure to Burn

Chapter 7: All This Happened

Chapter 8: The Past is a Foreign Country

Chapter 9: Ships at a Distance

#happily ever after #happily ever after better not be overpromising #intrulogical #logan sanders has some stuff to work through #ts logan #ts remus #human au #wip

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lovesupernova25 · 3 years

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okay, so... the new episode came out and i was sucked back into tss against my will. sorry to everyone who followed me for dsmp stuff 😅. buuuuuuuut- that means it’s time for another character analysis!

So I want to talk about Remus.

There’s been a lot of theorizing about Logan’s character development and the orange side (which i am super excited for!!) but i haven’t seen that many posts discussing Remus’s role in this last episode, which I think was a LOT more important than we all realized.

Here’s the thing: Remus is smarter than he looks. We haven’t gotten to see much of this before now- I mean, sure, he had like an entire 45 minutes devoted solely to him, but that was just the introduction. There’s clearly a lot more to Remus than he lets on, and we got a bit of that in WTIT. Now this episode was great for a lot of reasons, but especially because it started to answer a question i’ve had since DWIT-- what is Remus’s purpose? He’s intrusive thoughts, yes. But that isn’t why he exists. Every side has a certain job to fulfill, all of which help thomas in some way. For example, Virgil’s title is anxiety, but his purpose is to keep Thomas safe.

So what is Remus really trying to accomplish? If we just look at DWIT, it seems like all he’s trying to do is hurt thomas. But that can’t be right- it seems the only common factor between the sides is that they all want to help thomas as much as possible (though they have very different ideas of what ‘help‘ is). So how does Remus help thomas? Lets look at what he does.

Probably the most beneficial thing Remus has done is get Logan to snap at him. Why? Because Logan ‘I do not have emotions and everything will be fine if i simply ignore them’ Sanders needed that. And Remus knew this. He also— because it’s his job--knew exactly what buttons to push to get get to Logan’s breaking point. He knows that Logan is feeling ignored- which already makes him a lot more perceptive than any of the others seem to be.

Here’s the thing: A problem can’t be solved until it’s addressed.

So what’s Remus’s purpose? What has he done?

Remus is honesty. That’s not his title, no, but that’s his purpose. To get Thomas to be honest with himself. Remus takes all the nasty, slimy, twisted parts of everyone that they’ve all preferred to just shove under the rug and he brings them to the light. He pokes and prods and needles until they have no choice but to address their problems, and, consequently... fix them.

And here’s the thing! WTIT isn’t the first time Remus has done this. Remember when he first appeared? Remember all those little comments toward Virgil, pushing his buttons and dropping subtle hints that left everyone else confused?

Remus was the tipping point, the last straw that led to Virgil finally telling thomas about his past. And Remus knew this. Sure, it was awful, and there was definitely a better way get Virgil out of his shell—but it eventually led to what we saw in the first asides. Thomas let Virgil know that they were still friends, and it was okay. They were okay, despite a rocky history.

I‘m sure Virgil himself would’ve preferred never to tell thomas— but they couldn’t have truly moved on and worked through other problems if he hadn’t.

I‘m almost certain the same thing is going to happen with Logan being ignored, and whoever the orange side turns out to be.

Remus is working for Thomas’s benefit, even if it’s hard to see.

#however: though he is smart and has an actual purpose.. he is also trash man. chaos. raccoon child.#please don’t think that he isn’t 😌#remus sanders #sanders sides #character analysis #working through intrusive thoughts #wtit #wtit spoilers #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #i love them all sm

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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

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Janus' playlist: “Villain” and the failure of the black/white mentality (Addendum #1)

So.

The playlist posts were supposed to end - at least until Orange.

But Mr. Sanders decided to drop another song into Janus' playlist just for funsies, ahaha, there’s nothing important to read here, people.

Sure, Thomas. Sure.

Before starting: an obligatory thank you to the anon who warned me first and an even bigger thank you to @c2-1728-works who provided me an AMAZING translation directly from Korean to English you can find here. I didn’t thank you well enough, so here I am thanking you again. If this analysis will be good, it’s because of your great help.

You know the drill: as always, my posts mean me talking about everything, so read at your own risk.

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The first foreign song

This is the first song, from every Sanders Sides’ playlist, that is mostly in a foreign language (I’m not counting Sunrise because the spanish additions were too small to be considered). Stella Jang is a korean artist, so most of the song is in Korean, while only a few lines are in English.

That's already a very Janus thing. Janus is the bearer of all secrets, Janus hides stuff from others and from Thomas himself. With this song, he's hiding something once again, this time behind a foreign language and, even more, a foreign alphabet.

This makes the song even more interesting, because if it was german, french, italian, mexican or swedish we could've still recognized some words here and there. But this song is korean and the korean alphabet is completely foreign for westerns. It's like a cipher most people can't unlock, something that requires an additional step to understand it.

Isn't that just a perfect metaphor for Janus’ character? On a surface level, he looks weird, impossible to understand, with a plan that's not clear:

[Thomas]: I don't understand. You got what you wanted. You proved that I'm not as honest as I'd like to believe.

[Deceit]: But you're still missing the point! (SvS)

But when you take that extra step, then you can understand him. And his message suddenly becomes clear.

So does Villain fit as the first of the playlist? Yes. It has all the themes and the points we already saw in Janus' playlist, with the plus of being hidden behind a foreign language.

It’s a bit like a wall: you have to climb it, if you want to enter Janus’ playlist and finally start understanding him.

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The black/white mentality

The black/white mentality is a huge deal in Sanders Sides and caused a lot of consequences we all know about, like:

The figurative split in Thomas’ Creativity that led to the creation of two separated sides (Roman and Remus)

Janus hiding at least two sides away from Thomas, because Thomas himself didn’t want to know about them

The development of an extremely strict Morality, who was willing to sacrifice Thomas’ life in order to be good at all costs

So are we really that surprised Villain talks about this mentality and how wrong it is?

Once again Janus talks to Thomas, just like he did in all of his playlist. Once again he reaffirms his points - and this time he's clearer than ever.

Some things are black Some things are white You shouldn't look through colored lenses You're the good guy He's the bad guy Your boring world is in black and white

Thomas sees things in a very straightforward way: things are either black or white. No shades in between. You're either a hero or a villain, there’s no in-between. His world is perfectly divided into two very precise (too precise) parts. And this kind of world is boring.

Do you know who that reminds me of? Remus.

[Duke]: Good and bad is all made up nonsense!

[Duke]: Why do you want to stifle your own creativity, Thomas?

[Logan]: Roman is sort of like, Netflix Kids and Family. He's the option that you select if you want to, um— [Duke]: Block out all the juicy stuff...

[Duke]: ♪ Hey Prude, your art is bad. ♪

[Remus]: A Thomas Sandwich hold the Roman lettuce. You should really make that the usual because Roman will make ya sick.

Remus has clearly shown he doesn’t like Thomas' art, too focused on "Netflix kids and family", rather than exploring all possibilities. Thomas is stifling his own creative power, by limiting it into a single choice between black or white, so it’s not as good as it could be if he also explores “the juicy stuff”.

Guys. Gals. Non binary pals. It’s the exact same mentality. Just like Janus, Remus also prefers a gray vision of the world. Just like Janus, he considers Thomas’ black/white vision plain and boring. And just like Janus, Remus wants Thomas to broaden his horizons.

(At this point, it’s basically canon that these two are friends. I mean, they can appear in the next episode and high-five each other and I won't be surprised in the slightest.)

So many shades of gray Oh, how can you still not know?

Janus reminds Thomas how the world truly is: there's nothing completely black, nor completely white. There are shades of gray everywhere. How's that possible that Thomas STILL doesn't know it? He's an adult, he should know better!

Poor Janus, he has no idea how much of an himbo Thomas is XD

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A line that says more than a thousand words

Which line do you ask? This one:

Good easily fades away

Trust me, this line says a lot.

First of all, it’s another proof of how cynical Janus is. And this fits SO WELL with his entire playlist, because cynicism is literally one of the main foundations of it!

Also it’s... well, it’s right. There are thousands of people who do thousands of good deeds, every single day, for every month and every year. And yet, we all remember the most nefarious, terrible things: world wars, atomic bombs, nuclear disasters... no one knows the name of a little peaceful city, but we all know the names of Chernobyl and Hiroshima. Good things fade away a lot easier in our memories, compared to the bad ones.

The reason why this happens is a bit complicated. It’s not because humanity is made of horrible, ungrateful people, but because we NEED to remember bad things. That’s why we study history: we need to remember our past, to know what happened, why and how high the cost was. Because, if we forget, we would end up making the same mistakes again.

In addition to that, we’re prone to remember bad stuff from a biological point of view. If we get burned by a stove, we will remember to not put our hands on it. If we cut ourselves with a knife, we will remember to be more careful next time. Bad things leave a stronger impression on us, because they teach us something on a deeper level: how to protect ourselves. How to preserve our own lives. In other words, basic self-preservation.

Could this be the reason why Janus chose to be a villain? After all...

[Anxiety]: Putting on a dark persona is the best way to get anyone's guard up. (AA-part 2)

And being a villain is the best way to be heard. If Janus acts as a villain, if he opposes the other sides, they will listen to him more. His words will be remembered. As it happened during POF:

[Thomas]: I... made a decision with a blindfold on.

and

[Roman]: He's asking us to go back on things we've known for years, rights and wrongs, shoulds and shouldn'ts!

(And yes, Janus’ and Virgil’s way of thinking is so similar, they have so many things in common... just tell us if they’re father and son, Thomas)

But do you know what this line also connects to? Religion.

Oh, did you really think religion wouldn't be part of this analysis? Come on, we're in Janus' playlist and religion is the second foundation of it (along with cynicism). How silly of you to think there won’t be any religious references here.

As soon as I read it, this sentence reminded me of something. And the something was this passage from Luke 15:7

"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."

Even if you fail and sin, if you're sincerely sorry and repent, God will still welcome you in heaven. That's very reassuring, if compared to other more strict religions, that condemn a person even for just one single sin: they sin once and they're out forever, no second chance to save their souls.

And this is very interesting, because Janus' playlist showed a lot of connections with christianity: at first it was a solace for him (Black Hole Sun), then Janus became too cynical to trust it anymore. He became a sinner, a criminal, a devil. And we all remember the hundreds of devil references in his playlist.

But we also remember how, when we approached the end of the playlist, Janus searched for a way to repent. And this is especially evident in Criminal:

And this part too:

Cause I’m feelin’ like a criminal And I need to be redeemed To the one I’ve sinned against

The sinner, the devil, the liar, the one who abandoned religion because no matter how good he was, all of his good deeds faded away, will search for a way to repent. And he will do it for the only true reason that has always moved him: Thomas.

I’ve got to cleanse myself of all these lies 'Til I’m good enough for him

Yes, of course Janus’ undying affection for Thomas is here as well.

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Being a villain and enjoying it

All Janus' songs have a jazzy, sensual vibe. Some are more sensual, others are more jazzy, others are more dramatic - then there's Don't Tell Mama that is the cutest, most carefree song of the playlist.

Villain reminded me a lot of this song: they both have this adorable, sexy rhythm that makes you smile. And I can perfectly imagine Janus being all smirks and grins, like the little shit he is, while singing to this song.

And this feeling got even stronger, when I listened to this part:

Think twice before you like me Because I'm a villain What makes you think otherwise? You don't know what a wicked little devil I am

If there’s something clear in this song, is how much Janus enjoys being a villain. Even in canon he really liked to be the bad guy, he got all the aesthetic right and he was undoubtely having fun while doing it. I mean, just look at him.

That’s the face of a man who loves playing the villain SO. MUCH. He’s enjoying every single part of it and has zero regrets. What an icon.

And now try to associate the words “wicked little devil” with this guy. Isn’t that something he would say of himself? Sure it is. I can see him being all like oooh I’m such a wicked little devil, I'm so dangerous!

Janus’ issue definitely isn’t low self-esteem.

But that’s not all. This part is just the beginning of a point Janus is trying to prove. Something a little more articulate than just him enjoying his life choices.

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A perfect juxtaposition

We started this song with Janus telling Thomas how wrong his black/white mentality is. Everything is too much defined, too limited, too boring. You can either be black or white, there are no shades of gray.

Fine, tells Janus. If this mentality is correct, then he should be a villain, right? He’s bad, he’s evil, he has a villain aesthetic. So since the world is divided only into two parts and you can either be good or bad, then Janus is bad. He’s a villain, he’s dangerous - and he says it with his most playful tone, almost laughing at Thomas’ naiveness.

Then, he adds this:

You're a villain What makes you think otherwise? The villain you failed to notice breathes within you

If the world is truly divided only into black and white and there’s no in-between, then Thomas should be a villain as well. After all, Janus is part of him. And he says it in the most threatening, yet meaningful way.

This sentence, "The villain you failed to notice breathes within you" is pure beauty. On a surface level, it sounds kinda threatening: there's a villain inside Thomas, a parasite that grew without him noticing and it's so deep inside him he can't get rid of it.

On a deeper level, it's a magnificent expression of how strong the connection between Thomas and his sides is. A connection that is rooted in religion as well (of course):

"Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." (Genesis 2:7)

The act of breathing has always been associated with life - we ourselves had to exhale our first breath, in order to be alive.

And this case isn't different. Just like God, Thomas' first breath gave life to his sides, who are now breathing within him. It's not just a simple "we're here, detached from you". They are within him and part of him. Thomas is his sides and his sides are him.

We saw this perfect juxtaposition only in Logan's playlist and I am very pleased to find it here as well. It makes sense that the first two sides to acknowledge this overlap are the one who makes Thomas human (his brain, his logic, his curiosity) and the one who makes him alive (his self-preservation).

And this addition is also a way, for Janus, to motivate his reasoning. Why? Because when Janus said Thomas was a villain, the latter could've said he's not, because Janus isn't part of him. Janus is something foreign, that doesn't belong to him.

But just like in canon, Janus refutes this thought. I am part of you. I am within you. You can refuse to acknowledge me, but I'm still here. And if I'm bad, you are as well.

This leads to the next lines:

I'm killing someone maybe You're killing someone maybe I'm killing you maybe You're killing me maybe

Janus’ reasoning is challenging Thomas even more. If I am you and you are me, then everything I do, you do it as well. If Janus kills someone, then Thomas did it as well. If he's dangerous, then Thomas is as well.

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas. (DWIT)

These two are best friends believe me.

The last two lines are also interesting because of the nuanced subtext. "I'm killing you maybe" can be read as "Maybe I am dangerous for you. This is what you think and maybe it's right. I could potentially harm you, my influence over you can be so strong to crush you".

While the next line is the reverse: I have power over you... but you also have power over me. I could be dangerous for you, but you could be for me as well.

In other words, Janus is making Thomas question the balance of powers between them. He's not stronger than Thomas and Thomas isn't stronger than him: they are balanced. They have the same power over each other.

And this is possible, because Janus is part of him.

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A matter of perspective

Am I good Am I bad Ay Are you good Are you bad Ay (...) Are we good Are we bad Ay What is good What is bad Ay

Janus is openly questioning Thomas now. Am I really as bad I seem? Could it be that I am good? And what about you? Are you a good person or are you a bad person?

And he goes go even further in the next lines, by asking Thomas: "are WE good? / Are WE bad?". And "we" could refer to both Janus and Thomas... but we already saw that, in Janus’ playlist, "we" refers to the sides.

Janus is expanding his reasoning, by making Thomas question everything, even the sides he has always thought were good. Are they really good? Are they bad? Are they really helping Thomas or are they stifling him even more?

(Is he foreshadowing Patton’s role in SvS and POF? Won’t be too surprised if he did)

And again, Janus goes further and asks the most important question: What is good? What is bad? Where is the line? Is there even a line? Or are those concepts arbitrary? Once again, the similarities with Remus are striking (let's not forget Remus' "Good and bad are all made up nonsense").

The person I love the most Could be a bitch to somebody else (...) The person you loathe the most Is somebody’s beloved child

Religion? Check. Cynicism? Check. Undying love for Thomas? Check. Questioning the arbitrary concepts of good and bad in pure "fuck society" style? Check. There was just one missing theme and here it is: Janus loving his sons.

Because yes, now I can tell you everything about how these lines can be just examples with no hidden meaning, but let's not fool ourselves more than needed: these lines are all about his sons.

I mean, it's SO PERFECT. The person Janus loves the most, his beloved son Remus, is a bitch for Thomas. While the person Thomas hates the most (or at least, hated the most) is somebody's beloved child. Janus' beloved child.

Yes, I am talking about Virgil.

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All on the same boat

All villains What makes you think otherwise? You don’t know what wicked little devils we are

We’re all villains What makes you think otherwise? Look at us, the devils we failed to notice

That's the final point of Janus' long reasoning. After making Thomas question Janus' "evilness", Thomas' own evilness and the general concept of good and bad, Janus shifts the attention to the other Sides.

And he calls them all “villains”. After all, does Thomas really know his sides? He barely knew they had names. What if they're all "wicked little devils''? They can be bad just like Janus. Maybe they are bad and Thomas cannot see it. (Is Janus slightly referring to how Patton's strict moral is hurting Thomas without him noticing? Definitely)

And then, we reach the final (and first) two lines:

We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side But what if we’re the villains on the other

And this part can hint at everything.

It can hint at the creative split. And this would confirm my theory that Janus' long-term plan is to make Thomas accept all sides - hidden ones included. Because if he really cares about the creative split, that means he wants to show Thomas how unthreatening Remus is. And if he wants to show Thomas how unthreatening Remus is, that means he wants Remus to be accepted. And if he wants Remus to be accepted, he probably wants Orange to be accepted as well.

This part can also hint at Patton, especially during the wedding/callback saga. Patton himself admitted he lied, manipulated and had no clear answer to the whole issue. But he was supposed to be the good one, the one with answers. And so, he pretended to be the good guy, while actually being a villain.

But considering the use of the pronoun "we", I think these lines refer to ALL the sides. Janus is talking of them all. And he's basically revealing Thomas what the consequence of the black/white mentality was.

And what this consequence is? Forcing the sides to take a role. Are they "good"? They're heroes. Are they "bad"? They're villains.

And not only this categorization led to the creative split, not only it forced Janus to hide some sides, not only it made Patton the strict Morality he is... but it also forced them to pretend.

The Core Sides have always been considered good, so they have to be heroes. And when they're not, they still pretend to be, because this is their role. They're the good guys, so they have to be good at all costs. Even when they're actually villains.

Does that mean Janus is condemning the Core sides? Actually no. Because the use of "we" tells us something else: that if the roles were reversed, if the Others were the good guys, they would have done exactly the same.

Pretending to be good it's not a Core side problem, it's a problem all sides have in common. It's a problem due to the black/white mentality. Because if they were not forced into a hero/villain role, this would not happen. They would be free to express their points of view, without labeling them as "bad" or "good". And they would see each other just like sides and not heroes to trust or villains to defeat.

This is the perfect conclusion of Janus' long reasoning. First he made Thomas question the black/white mentality, then he made Thomas question himself, then the whole concept of what is good and what is bad and finally he gave the last hit, by making Thomas realize how this mentality affected his own sides.

And putting all of this absurdly deep reasoning as the first song of the playlist... man, that's a power move. Especially because you start with this song, so you think that this will be a kinda-philosophic playlist with clear messages... then you listen to Black Hole Sun that is pure symbolism and confusion hits you like a bus XD

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Is this the end?

It is. For now, at least. OR AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.

Jokes asides, thank you Mr. Sanders for the interesting addition. That's a very good song, I enjoyed it a lot and I can see why it was considered a good choice for Janus. I especially enjoyed the sexy vibes this man gives. And then we're asking why he's a big fan’s favourite.

I apologize for the long post but hey, you're probably already used to it. If you're not and you liked the experience, please feel free to enjoy all my other stupidly long posts - until the next one will come.

And yes, it will come soon. Very soon.

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TAGLIST:

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#sanders sides #sanders sides theory #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #analysis #janus' playlist #ts janus #ts remus #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts thomas #playlist

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just-some-gt-trash · 2 years

Text

Safe in royal hands

I really hope you don't mind these are all being posted in the wrong day-

But! Day 14 of @sanders-spring Royality

Cw: Persecution, slight body horror(?

AN: Patton is a smart boy bc I say so, also part of this was written while watching the new Batman so there's a part it turns sort of darker? Not that dark but it has a more serious tone? Idrk if you can notice it or if it's just me lol

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It was already dark outside when the royal family finished eating dinner. The queen excused herself back to the main room to prepare for bed, the king and prince Remy went back to the studio to make sure everything was perfect for the coronation, and prince Roman… well he had better things to do.

At least sneaking some food to the secret room where he was hiding an alien was something Roman considered as better things to do.

It wasn't Romans fault that his parents forgot to properly close off this part of the castle, or that he was riding around the forest when Patton’s ship crashed… Okay that may have been Roman’ fault because he wasn't supposed to go out on his own, but his brother was busy! He couldn't wait until Remy wanted to go horse riding with him!

Well it didn't matter now, Roman had a fugitive alien hidden in the castle. He was also helping Patton fix his ship, which could shrink down to portable size so getting it into the castle wasn't a problem.

Roman pushed the wood planks on the floor and wall. He smiled as he saw a hand helping him from the inside. Roman went into the room once the space was big enough.

Patton didn’t think twice before hugging Roman, “you’re back!”

Roman chuckled and hugged back as well as he could, “just like every night.”

Patton pulled apart, “sorry… I still keep thinking you’re going to get tired of me.”

“And I’ll keep reminding you I won’t” Roman left the bag full of food on the floor and fixed the planks to close the entrance.

Patton chirped and his ears moved. He turned around and covered them, ashamed. “I-I think I’m actually making progress with the ship now, thanks to the pieces you gave me.”

Roman picked up the food and walked over to the table with Patton’s work, “how long until it’s ready?"

“Not much,” Patton sat down. “I have to reload the system and make sure the size changing still works, but it takes too much energy and I’m not sure if there’s anything I could use on Earth to fuel it.”

Roman sat next to him, “what fuel do you usually use? Do you know what it’s made of?”

Patton looked through his hologram screen for his notes, “uh… I think it’s a mix of old metals and elements the planet gifts you”

“I could get you the metal but, “Roman raised an eyebrow. “Elements the planet gifts you?”

Patton nodded, “you know. The whole ‘don’t take stuff from the planet unless it’s a gift,’ humans don’t do that?”

“Well technically our planet is alive, but we don’t usually treat it like a living being. We just take what we need from it.”

Paton blinked, “that’s horrible! How do you even know when you’re taking too much? You don’t communicate with your planet?”

Roman shook his head, “we don’t.”

Patton hummed and looked around, “I wonder if I could do it…” He stood up and walked over to the small hole on the wall that served as a window, and source of light since Roman couldn’t light a candle for him.

“But you can’t go out, remember? It’s too hot for you and someone could see you.”

Patton went back to the tabe and moved his device closer to Roman. “Not if we go at night, Logan taught me how to track the temperature of a planet to make sure future explorations would be safe.” He swiped through the screen to show Roman the data. “The coldest time of an Earth year is coming in just a couple of hours, and it’s expected lowest peak based on our location is in a couple of days.”

Roman couldn’t really understand what Patton was showing him, but he still listened… mainly because of how hot Patton looked while explaining these stuff. “The kingdom doesn’t get very cold in the winter, it doesn’t even snow. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“It’s not cold enough for someone the average human size, but it’s a tolerable temperature for olxak size,” Patton picked his ship up. “We just need a way to activate the full reduction progress without changing the ship’s size”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Roman was very confused now, “olxak size? Wasn’t it just your ship the one that shrinks?”

Patton paused for a moment, “oh. I never told you right? Yeah uhm… I’m supposed to fit in there, the size changing system is to blend with the planet’s species and avoid danger.”

Okay, that wasn’t something Roman expected about Patton species. Just imagining a tiny Patton all cute and… yeah stop it now it’s not the moment. “Haven’t you been shrinking the pieces? You can’t do the same with you?”

“Eh, it’s not that simple.” Patton grabbed a metal disk, around the size of a large plate. “This shrinks the pieces down, but it’s not big enough to shrink something my size… nor safe for living beings. Usually I would change with the ship but-”

“We can’t grow it in here, and taking you out at this size would be dangerous,” Roman interrupted him.

Paton nodded, “exactly. The ship has a ray for the same system, but I need to access it from the outside and I don’t know how.”

Roman sighed and placed his hand on Patton’s shoulder, pulling him to sit down. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, but you need a break.”

“But if I don’t get out of here in the next bimester-”

“The way to your planet will close, I know.” Roman cut him off, “and if you don’t eat something you won’t have enough brain fuel”

Patton snorted, “that’s not a real thing. If one of my brains shuts down the other two work to turn it back on.”

“And what do they use for that?”

“...Energy… okay! You have a fair point.”

Roman chuckled and started unpacking the food, “I asked the chefs to keep the soup out so it wouldn’t be as hot as last time. And I got some fruit and water for you.”

Patton took the food and felt it, chirping with curiosity. “It should do, I just have to eat slowly, “ he smiled. “You don’t have to do so much for me.”

“I promised I would get you back home didn’t I? That includes not letting you starve to death”

Patton giggled and his ears moved again. They were never this fluttery before… only with Roman, good thing he didn’t know what it meant.

Roman watched Patton as he took the spoon and scooped up a bit of soup, noticing the nervousness on his face. “Go ahead, you know I don't mind.”

“Yeah… but you were very frightened the first time, it’s hard to forget.”

“I know and I’m sorry. It was unexpected, maybe a little bit scary but I’m used to it now.” Roman nodded, “but I could cover my eyes if you want.”

Patton smiled softly, “if you’re sure it’s okay.” He took a deep breath and opened his second mouth. It was located where a human’s chin would be, and it looked like he was pulling his head back.

Roman felt awkward just staring at Patton… he understood it was normal for him but he still needed more time to really don’t mind it. He didn't want to be rude though.

They ate and hung out, and would have continued if Roman didn't have to go back. Someone could go into his room any time and notice he was missing after all.

It took a lot of work, and a somewhat successful try of communicating with Logan for Paton to figure out how to shrink himself back to normal. Just in time for the coldest day of the year.

Roman had Patton’s ship and a bunch of old armor in a bag, Patton himself firmly secured in his hand. Getting out of the castle without being noticed wasn’t a problem, Roman was an expert at it. The problem was that their little trip coincided with the town’s festival… which Roman needed to attend as their prince, plus, his family would be there looking for him. They had to be very careful blending in the crowd to get to the forest.

Patton wasn’t used to being handheld, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but it was weird. Roman insisted he could get hurt in the bag, so traveling by hand it was. However, Patton hadn’t considered Roman’s body heat for his calculations. It felt nice being this close to Roman, but he knew it would hurt him to stay like that for too long. Patton just hoped Roman got his way out of town as soon as possible.

Roman kept some of his old clothes for situations where he had to blend in town, like this one. The cape he was wearing had enough mends to cover his identity, plus the hood made a very large shadow on his face. Just a little more, he could see the end of the crowd!

And a hand grabbed his cape.

Roman tried to pull back, but froze as he saw who stopped him. “Mom and dad have been looking for you”

The older prince pulled his brother away from the crowd so they wouldn’t be interrupted. “What were you thinking? Sneaking out on a day like this?”

“I know Remy, we have to be there for our people and all, but I’m helping a friend. This is the only day we could do anything!”

Remy raised an eyebrow, “a friend? Another servant from the castle?”

Roman rolled his eyes, tightening his grip around Patton instinctively. “I have friends outside the castle, you know?”

“Really? Then you won’t mind ifI meet this friend of yours right?” Remy crossed his arms.

Roman felt silent. What would Remy do if he saw Patton? Roman had been hiding him from everyone at the castle, mostly for Patton’s safety. What would the kingdom do to an aien?! He had no way of knowing! “What if I say no?”

‘Then you’ll come with me to the festival.”

That was the exact response Roman didn’t want to hear. He looked around, Remy had pulled them far enough from the town’s people, he could make a run for it. “I’m sorry Rem, but this is too important.”

Next thing he knew, Roman was running like he had never run in his life. He hoped it left Remy too shocked to react in time to stop him

Patton clenched onto Roman's shirt, they were running now? Oh this was bad… please, he just wanted to get to the forest.

Remy ran behind his brother, struggling to open his coat and get his wand out. He didn't want to use magic with his brother, but their parents would kill him if he didn't get him back to the festival. Remy had to be the example, a responsible older brother.

Roman knew he had to lose Remy, it wouldn't take much longer for him to be stopped. Just a little longer, he just had to keep running.

Remy was finally able to get a good grip on his wand. Aiming at Roman was the hard part, his brother knew how to avoid magic, and he was very good at doing it.

“We can do it Patt,” Roman whispered. He was trying to reassure both of them to be honest, just a little-

An energy surrounded his body and made him stop. Shit.

Remy finally stopped to take a breath, “damn. Since when are you this good at running?”

“Remy let me go!”

“I can't!” Remy walked closer to his brother, “what could be more important than your ceremony? You’ve been waiting years to be able to use magic and now you run away?” He stood in front of him, “this is not the Roman I know.”

Roman just glared, “maybe you don't know me well enough. What's the point of magic if the favorite prince is going to rule?”

Remy rolled his eyes, “you already knew you weren't going to rule. Is this really about that? It's not my fault that I was born first."

“If you really want to think is about that then fine, call me childish or something but let me go.”

Remy fell silent. “I don't want to force you to walk back there, are you really going to force me to?”

Patton could feel swet starting to roll down his face, he tugged on Roman's shirt. “We have to hurry…”

Roman looked down instinctively, he needed to fight Remy’s magic, but how?

Remy looked down, noticing Roman's hand. “What are you hiding?” He moved the wand around making Roman float in the air and let go of the bag, and Patton.

Patton yelped as he fell to the floor, it took him a lomento to realize what was happening. He looked up until he met Remy’s face and started pushing himself back instinctively.

“What the?” Remy crouched down and reached forward to grab Patton.

Roman could only watch, he had to do something! “Don't hurt him!”

The energy around Roman changed color to match him, and the wand on Remy’s hand was snatched by it. The wand floated towards Roman, who had gained control over his body again. He grabbed it and threw Remy away with a quick movement.

Remy was too shocked to react in time, the magic pushed him all the way to a wall. This left him too weak to do anything.

Roman watched the wand as it changed to match him as well, “woah.” He took the bag and made Patton float back to his hand before he started running again.

Patton could barely even ask what was going on, “I didn't know you could do magic!”

“I couldn't,” Roman kept running until he was sure they got lost in the forest. “It's a royal family thing, I’m old enough for my ceremony but I never expected Remy’s wand to work for me.”

Patton looked around, trying to spot a tree that would be willing to cooperate. “And what kind of stuff can you do now?”

Roman shrugged, “I have no idea. I’m supposed to be trained so I can help my people, but I think I could figure this out on my own.”

Patton gestured for Roman to let him down next to an apple tree.

Roman did and sat next to him, “are you sure you know how to do this?”

“I am, but I hope it works with your planet.” Patton placed his hands on the trunk of the tree, a soft glow started coming out of them. The light expanded to the whole tree and some apples and leaves started falling down.

Roman was amazed by this, and by how all the apples seemed to avoid falling on top of them.

Patton smiled and took his hands away, “thank you.” He stood up and looked over at Roman, “now these are stuff the planet gifts to us.”

Roman smiled and picked Patton up, “that was amazing. I wish we actually asked before taking stuff from the Earth.” He looked up, they were able to see the stars between the tree branches.

“It’s a very nice experience, you connect with nature. Olaxs know a lot about technology, but we never forget where we came from” Patton looked up as well, but not at the stars, at Roman. The star and moonlight really brought out his facial features… he looked beautiful.

Roman looked back at Patton and blushed slightly, “well, maybe you could teach me.” He instinctively petted Patton’s head with his thumb.

Patton leaned on the touch, “we can definitely try.” He giggled softly and his ears flapped rapidly.

Roman stayed silent as he pet and looked at Patton for a while, “I’ve uh, been meaning to ask you. Why do your ears move? Does it mean something? I don't really want to be rude but they’ve done it a couple of times since we met.”

Patton felt his ears flapping even more, he covered them ashamed. “Well n-no you're not rude they uh… I guess it’s an involuntary response, like when you humans get ll red I think.”

“Oh,” Roman’s blush darkened.

“Y-yeah… like that.” Patton chuckled awkwardly, “I mean if my human knowledge is correct then I guess it means I want to mate with you. If not then for us it means some sort of feelings are being generated in us but it’s not quite there yet, like one of the first stages of uh falling in love with someone, others always told me I’m supposed to understand what it means when it happens to me but then you came and you do anything and I feel this that I don't have an explanation for a-and-”

Roman placed his finger on Patton’s mouth, “sorry sorry. I just uh, I get what you mean Patt.”

Patton nodded and gently pushed the finger away, “I think ranting is another side effect…”

Roman chuckled, “that might just be you. My brain kind of takes all my words away and I become the clumsiest person ever… and maybe I should put you down before you fall…”

Patton smiled a bit and stood up, “I have the perfect spot to be then.” He walked through Roman’s arm all the way to his shoulder, then used the hem of his shirt as support to stand in front of his face.

Roman almost had a heart attack once Patton started moving like that, “h-hi…”

“Hey,” Patton glanced briefly at Roman's lips… he couldn't, could he?

Roman noticed and chuckled, “just kiss me already.”

Patton felt like he could take off at any moment with how fast his ears flapped, “y-y-you’re sure?”

Roman left a gentle kiss on Patton’s head, “I mean, maybe we should try it once you're back to my size.”

“Yeah…” Patton felt very hot, but it wasn't a bad heat like before. He didn't know how, but it felt like the coldest day he’s ever experienced, like a bunch of leaves were being blowed all around his body. He couldn't take it any longer and pressed himself against Roman’s under lip.

That definitely caught Roman by surprise, he didn't want to move and get Patton covered with saliva. It definitely felt weird but… it was the best kiss Roman had ever gotten.

Patton pulled apart and smiled brightly. Even if he couldn't get back to his planet in time, it already felt like he was home.

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emoprincey · 2 years

Note

44. "I don't know how I feel about this." with Logan and any other Side(s) of your choosing? :)

This has been sitting in my ask box for so long but I finally wrote something!!! Here's some Analogical university/coffee shop au

Word count: 799

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Logan muttered, trying his best to plant his feet firmly on the ground.

It was no use, as his best friend Roman propelled him along with a hand on his back. “Oh, come on! You can’t back out now, we’re already here!”

The student’s union café was buzzing with activity by now, with students settled around tables in groups to do their work through the afternoon over iced coffees and biscuits. But tucked away in an armchair, right in the corner of the room, Virgil Sanders sat alone. Headphones over his ears, he was invisible to all who passed him. All, that was, except Logan and – unfortunately – Roman.

“I am not backing out, I never wanted any part in this plan to begin with,” Logan hissed, wondering if he’d be able to escape Roman if he made a break for it and darted out of the door now. That would bring about the awkward situation of seeing Roman when he returned to their shared flat afterwards, but Logan could always hide away in his room – which he surely would be doing for the rest of time if this interaction went as spectacularly badly as he predicted.

“Look, he’s over there,” Roman said, nodding towards Virgil’s table.

“For goodness sake, Roman. Stop looking at him, he’ll notice!” Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled him to face the other way.

“I don’t get it,” Roman huffed. “You said you think he’s cute, why don’t you just talk to him?”

Logan glanced over at Virgil’s table again, where he sat surrounded by books and papers, two empty coffee cups beside him with a third halfway finished in his hand. “He’s clearly busy, and he probably won’t even notice me with those headphones on. Let’s just go.”

“No, let’s…” Roman waved his arms aimlessly, glancing around the room for inspiration. As he looked between Logan and Virgil’s table, his eyes lit up. “You’ll thank me for this later,” he whispered.

The next thing Logan knew he was shoved across the room, hurtling towards Virgil’s table. He managed to steady himself before he caused a calamity, but his knees bumped the table, jostling the empty cups and stacks of books.

Virgil looked up quickly and took his headphones off, his long fringe falling back from his face. He usually kept his head down in class, sitting at the back with his eyes all but hidden by his hair, but up close Logan could see that they were quite striking – a lovely deep brown, rimmed with black eyeshadow which bled into the dark circles underneath.

“Sorry,” Logan said stiffly, straightening his tie. This was possibly the worst way this interaction could have started – there was no way on earth he would thank Roman for humiliating him in front of his crush like this. But here he was, standing in front of Virgil Sanders, and an opportunity was an opportunity. “I’m Logan, by the way. We have astronomy together.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in recognition, and he nodded. “Oh yeah, I remember. I’m Virgil.”

Logan glanced down at the books spread out on Virgil’s table, noticing one that had been recommended by their tutor for the module. “Are you doing work for the next seminar now?”

Virgil grimaced, looking down at the book in front of him. “Yeah. Trying to, at least.”

“Oh, are you struggling?” Logan asked.

Virgil shrugged. “I just don’t really understand gravitational forces, you know? I was alright with it in high school, but these equations are so confusing.” He ran a hand through his fringe, letting out a sigh through his teeth. “Sorry. You always answer questions and stuff in class, you must think I’m dumb.”

“Not at all,” Logan said quickly. “There are several topics that took me a while to fully grasp. Would it help if we went through this together? It might be easier to understand when you have someone to bounce your thoughts off of, so to speak.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed, and he looked up at Logan as if he was some kind of angel. “That would help a lot, actually. Thanks. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, of course,” Logan said, trying to hide how much he really wanted to smile. “I was planning on revising for the seminar this afternoon anyway.”

He pulled a chair over to Virgil’s table, and sat down next to him. They were about a foot apart, but Logan still had a warm, giddy feeling in his chest, because he was actually sitting next to a cute boy! Better than that, he’d actually started a conversation with a cute boy, and it hadn’t been a disaster.

As he leaned over to look at Virgil’s book, he decided that maybe he would thank Roman later.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #analogical #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #sanders sides fanfiction

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bilgisticallykosher · 3 years

Text

Don't Jump To Conclusions

TS g/t one-shots

I'm in a Sanders Sides g/t server, and sometimes we take scenarios and write on them. I've written a fair amount of stuff on there, myself, and I decided to collect my stuff, and clean it up. This was partially written by @borrowedblue and @andtheyreonfire

Happy birthday, Vel!

Masterpost | AO3

My Discord, not to be confused with the above g/t Sanders Sides one.

Word count: 3,300

Warnings: Spiders! Spider, anyway. Sentient beings sold as pets, attempting restriction of said beings, mentions of bites, implied past abuse/bad treatment.

-----

Virgil was out shopping. Not for groceries or clothing; he was at a pet store, shopping for supplies for his, let's say, pets. Okay, technically they weren't pets. They were research at the lab he worked at, but he still liked them, even when they did try to bite and attack and hiss at him. His descriptions of such had led people to believe that he worked with cats, but he didn't.

He worked with spiders.

Well, a lot of bugs, but he liked the spiders the best. His lab observed their behaviors both individually and in groups to catalog a variety of information. As part of their observations, they needed to keep the spiders in their ideal environment, which included as close to the exact blend of earth as they could get. Unfortunately, they'd run out of their supply today. Fortunately, that sort of stuff was widely available. Unfortunately, they used a very specific brand. Fortunately, they found some in a pet store pretty locally. Unfortunately, Virgil was the one who lived nearest to it, so he was stuck going in and getting it on his way home. What a drag, he had to actually interact with people.

When he got there, he could see why this was the store that had it. It was certainly… well-stocked. Which, really, was just another way to say "huge." It was like the Home Depot of pet stores; no employees in sight, and aisles in need of some serious maps. But whatever. He at least knew which sections to go past. When he finally got to the specialty mix of dirt, near the back of the store, he grabbed it with an 'Ah-hah!' Then, after his elation had faded, he took in his surroundings a bit more. He looked to his left, and noticed the rescue.

It wasn't odd for a pet store to have a rescue in it. And despite his surly exterior, well, Virgil wasn't immune to cute fluffy animals. Maybe he just so happened to need to walk back to the registers while passing it by. And maybe while he was walking that way, he'd take a little look. You know. While he was there.

So, path decided, nodding to himself, he strolled over, bag of soil in hand, and prepared to look at the puppies and kittens. Then he stopped and blinked. There were certainly puppies and kittens, and even a bird there, but there were also some different manner of pets.

He saw fairies, tiny mers, and all manner of little magical creatures. He walked through the display of cages and terrariums, when one in particular caught his eye. He stared at the sign plastered on the seemingly empty glass case.

CAUTION: I BITE!

"What the-" he squinted, leaning closer to see if there was anything actually in there. He thought he saw something moving underneath the front of the fake log, and then all of a sudden-

-there it was right in front of him.

He flinched and took a half step back on instinct, despite the fact that it's in a freaking terrarium, genius, and he took in the creature. It was partly human, but had multiple eyes, and its back half was an abdomen, black with dark blue bands, and had multiple legs.

A drider.

It was reared up on its back legs, and it was bearing its (he squinted closer to be certain, and sure enough its human half had freaking fangs), and was generally acting very aggressive.

He thought it- they were trying to puff themself up, emphasizing their eight (eight!!!) limbs, six on the bottom, plus their arms. Their multiple eyes were narrowed, directly at him. They were snarling.

And Virgil couldn't possibly help but to walk towards the terrarium, warning sign be damned. He sees the spider-person pause, some of the aggression draining out, before they rear back again, seemingly trying to be more intimidating than before. Virgil smirked, fascinated, and sank down into a crouch. He really took in the shape and look of their eyes, and his own eyes widened in response.

Jumping spider, he realizes, and then, Well, duh, they jumped at you, moron, of course they're a jumpy. He tilted his head a few times, trying to really see the details of the drider, while he had the chance.

"Woah," Virgil whispered. "You're so cool looking." He watched as they frowned and clicked their mouthparts (didn't look completely like typical chelicara) idly, running their pedipalps over them. They seemed to hesitate, lowering down, and stared at him in a more placated manner.

Honestly, they were pretty cute. "How far can you jump?" Virgil asked, taking in the size of the enclosure. The creature was watching his gaze like, well, someone who had plenty of eyes, then finally, they spoke up.

"Far beneath my limit in this facsimile of a proper environment," they crossed a pair of human arms and one set of spider legs. They seemed distrustful, gaze still not fully on him. As though they were apprehensive about his reaction, like it was going to be negative?

"I'll bet," Virgil responded instead, and he nodded a little as his smile fell into a grimace. "This thing has gotta really suck, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, eyes still flitting over the spider creature's form every so often. They raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed." Yeah, there was no way they were used to having a normal conversation. They seemed less wary now, but they didn't seem to be holding back their speech at all. Virgil really admired that. He liked that attitude, and that he was the one getting it out of them, and, well, he liked a lot about them. He had...a dangerous thought.

"What if," Virgil bit his lip, "what if you got out?" The spider huffed, rolling their (well, some of their) eyes.

"Then I would be able to jump further," they replied, voice clearly dry despite their size difference.

"No, no," his smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I mean. What if you," Virgil hesitated meaningfully, being sure to emphasize the words. "Got, out." The creature's limbs uncrossed. Virgil saw as comprehension dawned.

"I am," their words were chosen carefully, he noticed. They had been throughout this entire interaction. "Not allowed to leave my enclosure." Their eyes raked over the human's form.

"What if I got you out?" The spider person chittered, nervousness written on their face.

"Theft is not an encouraged activity," they eventually settled on. Virgil snorted and muttered 'be gay, do crime' under his breath. "No, I meant like. Maybe, I could, sort of." He paused, breathed in, breathed out, and tried to look as serious as possible. "Take you home? With an adoption fee and everything?"

"I," the drider swallowed visibly, and of course they didn't trust him, they just met him and he doesn't even know their name, or anything, and he didn't introduce himself- "I am unable to survive in the wild on my own," they finished succinctly.

Virgil hadn't meant that. They might be a drider, but they were clearly still human, especially after the conversation they'd been having, so, was it wrong that he wanted to take them home? He knew that everyone here was raised to live in a home, with a human taking care of them, just like the pets they adopted out beside them. So, maybe they wouldn't mind if he took them home? But, he guessed that their non-answer gave him his answer, then. That kinda sucked.

"My name's Virgil," he blurted out before he forgot again. "He/him." They stared at each other for a moment. "Uh, what's your name?" He saw them startle, "I mean, y'know, only if you don't mind."

"My name is Logan." They said, voice even, still, but maybe a little less cautious, he thinks? "I… am also male?" And Virgil couldn't help but smirk again at his confused tone. It was sort of adorably endearing. His eyes drifted towards the sign again.

"So," he smirked a little more. "You actually ever bite anyone before?" Logan rolled (all of) his eyes.

"Of course," he pointed to the sign. "Otherwise, it would not be stated on my tank." He sounded almost a little proud. He went on, clarifying despite not being asked to. Virgil was not complaining. "Two separate humans, not to mention the time a child opened my tank after wandering away from his parents." His pedipalps whisked over his face, "I jumped just under my potential that day, unfortunately." He didn't sound sorry at all. Virgil's mouth twitched dangerously. "I landed right on his head."

Virgil burst out laughing. Several people in the store turned around to see what the commotion was about. A volunteer in particular hesitated, before starting to come over to the pair. Logan looked smug, Virgil wiped a tear from his eye.

"Hello, sir, may I help you with anything?" The voice came suddenly from over his shoulder. He just barely suppressed a flinch.

"Ah!" Couldn't suppress the scream, though.

"You two seem to be getting along!" The volunteer said. "Do you have any questions about him?" The tone of the question was clearly an underlying 'Would you please take him?'

Virgil gave a look towards Logan's direction. He looked back at Virgil. Maybe, Virgil thought, not as hesitant as before.

"Well," Virgil pulled his gaze away, "maybe just a few."

~~~~~

Logan watched the human- Virgil- as the volunteer led him away, and he found himself repressing a pout. He'd been… nice. Pleasant. Tolerable.

Okay, so Logan had enjoyed his company, and his conversation. It had been quite some time since that had happened with a human. In fact, it had been quite some time since any conversation at all had happened with a human. They never spoke to him directly. Every human he'd ever known had spoken over him, both literally and figuratively. Especially here, where they spoke instead to the volunteers and his general caretakers.

He exhaled. Perhaps his standards for 'good conversation' had just slipped considerably. As well as his standards for 'acceptable human.' After all, there he was, discussing taking Logan into his home, with someone all-too-anxious to never see him again. Nice or not, he had to be cautious. He seemed like he cared about his opinion, but that was the thing about humans; they were good at seeming.

He gave up on trying to listen into their conversation. They were far away, and it only seemed to pertain to what supplies he would need if he took him. At the very least, the volunteer was doing their job of explaining his needs. He skittered into the fake log that was in his environment as he considered his future.

This was not the first time he'd met someone excited to see him, eager to adopt him. It had happened, once before. He'd been much younger then, much more innocent, much happier, much more eager to go into a home with a human family.

That eagerness and happiness had lasted about a week.

And, well, that's why he was with a rescue now.

He considered Virgil. He spoke to him, yes, was interested, but he was still larger; Logan surmised he could easily fit in his hands, probably even only one. He had more legs, and more eyes, and could jump, and had venomous fangs (barely, to a human), but he was still the one with the disadvantage. A severe one. He shuddered from memories he'd considered long in the past. Apparently, they were still with him in the present.

Likely, he would not get an opinion on who he went home with, anyway. It was why he made it a point to be so aggressive with everyone who came over to him. But Virgil… Well, he supposed he would see, and soon. The two humans were walking towards his enclosure again, this time Virgil had a large bag of items relevant to Logan’s care.

He poked his head back out, eyes roving over his figure. Virgil smiled at him, one corner of his mouth tugged further up than the other. He turned to the volunteer.

"Could you, I mean, if there's maybe…" he made a gesture with his empty hand, seemingly unable to finish his thought. "I kinda wanna," he lost his momentum again. He inhaled and exhaled a few times. "Could I just have a minute with him," he rushed out. The volunteer made some sort of face, but nodded, and left. Virgil took a step forward, and Logan met him (as much as he could from within his glass case) halfway, stepping out from his log. He was certainly more willing to be out in the open with only Virgil there. He returned a tiny, if uneasy smile of his own.

Virgil crouched down again. "Have you really been here for most of your life? Around humans?" Logan blinked. That took some time.

"Yes," he admitted. "I was abducted too young to learn any survival instincts." He couldn't say why he so willingly told him his past, but Virgil wanted to know, and Logan knew what that thirst for knowledge was like. "How did you know?" He wasn't accusatory, merely curious, undoubtedly as Virgil had been.

"Volunteer told me," Virgil made a slight face, and Logan wondered what else he'd been told about his past. He was about to ask, but Virgil continued. "Said you'd been waiting here for way too long." There was a look on his face that Logan had only seen on childrens' face moments before a tantrum.

He believed that Virgil was sad, but he couldn't figure out why. "That you'd been rescued from a bad situation." Ah. "Uh, listen." Virgil brought a hand up, and Logan flinched, but it was only to awkwardly scratch at his cheek.

He looked at Logan intensely. "I know we've only known each other for a bit, and I totally understand if your answer's no, but." He looked pained. "Um." Virgil coughed into his hand, likely a gesture to fill the silence rather than a violent expulsion of the contents in his throat. "Would you? Like me? To uh? Take you home? Er- fuck." Virgil groaned, clearly frustrated by his own ineloquence. "Would you like to live with me? I could offer you a bigger space than what you've got here, take care of you- that water looks too old to be healthy- and you can decline if you want. I just- yeah," he finished, slumping over with hunched shoulders from the effort.

Logan considered it. He considered it for a while. He considered the short time that he'd spent with the human, and made his decision. At the very least, Virgil wouldn’t be that cruel compared to his...other options. Logan nodded. The smallest of smiles flitted up onto his mouth, and that was apparently what Virgil was waiting for. He offered him a 'be right back', and went to grab an employee. Logan took in his cage one last time, hope was rapidly raising in him.

Meanwhile, Virgil was paying for his purchases as well as Logan's adoption fee. When he came back, it was with the volunteer, who was carrying a smaller containment box meant for transportation, and something else in the other hand.

Logan's habitat was opened, and suddenly, the volunteer's hand plunged into his tank, startling Logan out of his thoughts and immediately put him on the opposition, fangs bared and ready. It didn't matter, though. The volunteer was wearing thick rubber gloves, preventing any form of retaliation on the part of the drider, and he was grabbed roughly around the middle. He hated being held, nobody knew how to properly hold him; he wasn't a human infant, why did they insist on holding him that way? Unable to resist, Logan squirmed in the grip of the human, receiving a light squeeze and a pained look from Virgil for his efforts.

“Now, just to get him all ready for you,” the volunteer chirped, bringing a bundle of rope into view. Logan’s eyes widened, and he started struggling anew.

As if he hadn’t moved a muscle, Logan felt his arms being pinned and bound behind his back, knotted tightly. Logan couldn't move his upper arms. The volunteer had just grabbed a few of his legs between two fingers, Logan was kicking and still trying to bite, when-

“The hell are you doing?” Virgil asked in a tone that was, quite frankly, utterly terrifying. It made Logan shudder, before almost instinctively he stopped his efforts to escape. Was this Virgil's true nature, then?

"Oh, this is just standard procedure for all dangerous creatures," the volunteer responded. And Logan's head snapped up to the two. His internal organs seemed to quiver, as much as he knew that wasn't possible. Virgil had been upset at the volunteer? "Just for everybody's safety."

"Well then," his unending glare at purely the volunteer seemed to confirm who his ire was directed at. "I guess you'll have to untie him, because I don't think he's a danger to me at all." The volunteer stared back, and understandably backed down.

"Well, you're his new owner, so!" And Logan remained untied, minus his upper arms, and placed in the transportation carrier. Virgil paid the adoption fee, and took Logan by the handle, and he felt a thrill of freedom, combined with an atypical bout of anxiety.

"Hey," Virgil started, as they were walking out of the store. "There's some more stuff on the shelves that I could get you," Virgil rolled his shoulder. "It's not, like, required equipment or anything, but some of it looked like it could be kind of cool?" Logan squinted.

"Why would cold items be preferable to own?" Virgil smirked and then bit his lip.

"No, I mean, like." He mulled it over, tilting his head. "Nea- no." He exhaled some air out his nose. "Fun? Awesome?" Ah.

"I suppose, if you wanted to look, I would not be opposed." Virgil smiled, and for the next half hour, Logan was treated to a trip around some of the aisles. Virgil held up his cage, letting him look at some of the items made for a drider's physical and mental engagement. He let Logan decide entirely what he did and did not want to buy, even though he was sure it was difficult for him to keep lifting the transport box, in addition to being a tedious way to shop. His favorites were a little him-sized version of a 'Rubick's Cube,' as well as a better version of the log cave that he'd grown accustomed to in the store.

He paid when he got up front, and they made their way to his car, placing his other purchases in the back. He put Logan on the seat next to him, 'passenger seat,' Logan vaguely recalled. He was about to buckle him in.

"Alright, sit tight," Logan was about to ask what that meant when Virgil gasped. "Holy shit, I forgot about the rope." He dropped to the ground, crouched again, and opened the top of his carrier. He carefully took his fingers and untied the ropes, immediately freeing his arms. Logan rubbed around his wrists on instinct, "I'm sorry! Does it hurt? Are you okay?" Logan looked up at Virgil's earnest, open face, full of concern for Logan, and thought of how he'd treated him this entire time, how hopeful and excited he'd been.

"Yes," Logan smiled. "I think I will be."

-----

In my mind he kinda looks like this, and check out that cool size comparison chart at the bottom!

My favorite line from the original: I guess there's like normal things there like cats and dogs and birds and like maybe magical-y things like, winged cats and winged dogs and winged birds.

Taglist

@callboxkat @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @awkwardjester @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @aceawkwardunicorn @lookingforaplacetosleep @mirinda03 @robinwritesshitposts @averykedavra @potatsanderssides @hekking-happy-nonsense @enby-ralsei @star-crossed-shipper @a-fandom-trashdump @thefluffyotter33 @somehow-i-got-an-account @cottonwoolsocks @idontcareaboutcanon @starlight-era @kieraelieson @snowdice @callboxkat @10moonymhrivertam @just-some-gt-trash @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #my stories #infinitesimal!sides #g/t sides #g/t!sides #analogical #spiders #sanders spides #andtheyreonfire 🧇#borrowedblue #velvets

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illogicallyinclined · 3 years

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if you don't mind me asking, why were you gone for so long? Are you okay?

ahh, no worries friend, i don't mind at all. i am, however, gonna answer under a read more because i'm not sure how long this'll be, and also because i'm not gonna make yall read about my life unless you actually want to lmao

i guess i should start by saying sorry for disappearing, i said i Wouldn't Do That, and then I Did, and that was,,, uncool. Not Pog. i didn't mean to alarm anyone, but i know that having someone go from posting constantly to posting once every month or so can be alarming af - the multiple messages asking if i'm alright are a testament to that - so yeah. sorry for ghosting :(

having said that, i promise i'm alright!!! (and also Very Touched by how many of y'all reached out, btw). this last half a year or so has been a wild ride, but a lot of it's been more positive than negative, so. i promise there's No Cause For Concern.

as to why i was gone so long:

i originally took a break to drive back to Texas for a family matter. not gonna get into any detail, but Some Shit Happened and it, uhhh, threw a whole wrench in the whole Being Productive Thing. no worries, though, it's all good now! the family member involved is doing well, and i am back in the swing of things, but yeah. it kinda sapped my energy to do much of anything creatively for a good month or so.

after that, i went back to DC, and i was Ready to Create. started a bunch of WIPs and everything. however, i was also returning to work after a month off, and as one of the only vaccinated employees at the time - which. highly recommend that. if you aren't already vaccinated, Do It - i was also one of the employees that my company repeatedly asked to travel. and i,,, couldn't really say no, because i need money. so i said yes, and then i spent about three months trekking around from med conference to med conference all throughout New England, promising myself that i would Do Creative Stuff while at the hotels only to spend all of my free time getting into Minecraft Youtube instead. (yes, i watch the Dream SMP. yes, i have strong opinions about the lore. i would apologize for being cringe, but i killed cringe culture with my own two hands, so all i can offer you is a hearty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

then. (then). Family Drama 2: Electric Boogaloo.

AGAIN - family member involved is doing well now. well enough to BULLY ME, even (/lh), so. yeah. it was intense, but i fucking crushed it like the strong, sexy genius that i am - (adapt. improvise. overcome) - and i came out of it even more sexy and even more powerful. BUT after having two of my family members Go Through It back-to-back, i made the executive decision to move back to Texas to be closer to my family as a whole, and i have consequently spent the last few months reaching out to old Texas friends to see if they had a place for lil ole me to move into and applying to jobs so i could pay my dumb bills. (ew).

at the beginning of July, i made a cross country trip with all of my garbage to move into the new apartment, and last Monday, i officially started my new job. now that i don't have to move around as much and the new Sanders Asides has dropped, it should all be Coming Up Jay for the forseeable future.

tldr; A Bitch (Me) Has Been Busy. but i am okay! thriving, even! and i am READY to scream about Orange Logan until i am thrust from this mortal coil.

and again, thank y'all for all the kind messages while i've been AWOL. it may take me a lil bit to adjust to my new schedule, but i promise i'm here to stay <3

#just jay #anyway i tried to be vague because i AM genuinely doing well now and i dont wanna worry any of yall #but also i felt like yall deserved an explanation for me literally going ghost up in this bih #cursing #family drama tw #ask to tag

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averykedavra · 4 years

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Okay, today we’re talking about that scene in LNTAO. You know. That scene.

Yeah.

The thing about Logan (which I’ve noticed during a super-secret project I’m working on that involved reading all the scripts for TSS) is that he apologizes easily—for small stuff. He probably apologizes more than most characters, and it’s pretty instinctive. He hits Patton accidentally? He apologizes.

LOGAN: I am so sorry. I popped up too close there.

His phone interrupts a question? He apologizes.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, that is my text tone.

He doesn't need Virgil right now but Virgil showed up anyway? He apologizes.

LOGAN: Oh, I'm--I'm sorry, no.

This makes sense. Apologizing is logical. When you've made a small mistake or hurt someone, apologize. So far, Logan's acting in accordance with his logic and being even a little more empathetic than necessary.

Things get more interesting, however, when we cross the line from small nuisances to larger mistakes. It's hard to define the difference but in this case, it's usually when Logan has made a severe error in judgment that has consequences beyond himself. Especially when Thomas is directly or indirectly affected--Thomas is Logan's center and Logan cares deeply about helping and supporting Thomas. So when Logan messes up and accidentally jeopardizes Thomas or leads him astray, he treats this as a serious mistake.

What kind of mistake am I talking about? This kind:

He always apologizes for these, too. It's just not the same way he apologized for the smaller stuff. Instead of a simple 'sorry,' he barely ever uses that word at all. Instead, he says it in a usually circituous way that implies he may have made a mistake. And he focuses on what he can do to fix it and what the next steps may be.

In Mind vs. Heart, his constant arguing with Patton leaves Thomas indecisive and feeling pressured over every little decision. Although Patton immediately starts gushing apologies when he finds out, Logan is more composed.

LOGAN: What can we do to fix this?

In Losing My Motivation, he tries to find the root of Thomas' procrastination and ends up being said root. When he realizes, he almost panics, and Thomas has to calm him down before he spirals. He doesn't fully apologize until the next video, the Q & A.

LOGAN: Maybe we can help you with something in order to make up for mistakes one might have made prior?

In Growing Up, he and Roman talk over Patton and try to convince Thomas to live an entirely different life for the sake of "growing up." It's Logan who realizes something is wrong, and it's Logan who goes to ask someone about it.

LOGAN: I don't think...we have this quite right. Morality? What are we doing wrong?

And this is despite his admission later this same episode:

LOGAN: I do not like being wrong.

In Learning New Things About Ourselves, Logan champions that Thomas needs to change his life around and get a "real" job because nobody takes him seriously. It's maybe his biggest mistake so far in the series. It angers Roman, alienates Virgil, and contributes to Thomas' harmful mindset about his own value as a content creator. When Logan finally realizes that a more silly and joking medium doesn't mean the ideas aren't important and meaningful, he actually apologizes to Roman. In his own roundabout way.

LOGAN: All right, maybe there's some knowledge out there that I wasn't privy to before. Not that I was wrong! But...I should be open to more sources...I-I don't suppose there's anything that I could do to make it up to you?

In Moving On, Logan suggests they go to Patton's room without realizing that as Thomas is a chronic worrier, nostalgia could have adverse effects on his mental health and his anxiety.

LOGAN: Ugh, such a foolish oversight on my part.

(Logan uses the word 'foolish' a lot when insulting himself or someone else. He uses it to describe Thomas' new hair that makes him feel silly, them turning into puppets, and here, himself. He also uses the term 'ridiculous' multiple times, as well as 'silly,' 'preposterous,' and 'stupid.' Stupid especially is something he apparently hates to be called. But we'll get back to that.)

In Moving On Pt. 2, after Logan leaves in frustration when no one heeds his warnings, he says this line when the other Sides apologize for not listening:

LOGAN: All that matters is how we proceed.

And that basically sums it up. Despite his self-proclaimed "fondness for being told that [he's] right," Logan always owns up to his mistakes and looks to better himself. (Eventually. And it does sometimes require him being called out on it, or he might not realize it is a mistake.)

One of my personal beliefs is that Logan's love language is "acts of service." He struggles with verbal affirmations, as shown in Alone on Valentine's Day when he attempts to say a verbal "I love you." Instead, he expresses care by helping others with their issues and adding knowledge to their discussions. Logan's way of showing appreciation is to be helpful. (Which adds another layer to his frustration when he's ignored--it's literally the people he loves not understanding or outright rejecting his way of showing connection and compassion.)

But yeah. What we've seen is that Logan struggles with verbal apologies for more serious grievances, especially when it includes him admitting he's wrong. But he still attempts them and always says "How do I fix this?" He works to right his wrongs and make things better. As I said above, so much of Logan's drive is to be helpful and to support Thomas. If he fails at this, he tries harder the next time. Sometimes this works, sometimes this doesn't, but being helpful is his end goal and what he defaults to when he feels he's made a mistake.

With all this in mind, let's return to that scene in Learning New Things About Ourselves.

Logan has just made probably his biggest mistake toward another Side. Him and Roman argue a lot, and sometimes Logan strikes at vulnerabilities intentionally or unintentionally, but he has never outright tried to hurt Roman. Until now. Roman calls his love of clarity in communication "stupid." And Logan crumples up his flashcard and throws it at Roman's face.

That itself is an expression of anger that's pretty uncharacteristic for Logan. He usually fights with words, not actual violence. Everyone's shocked. And none more so than Logan himself.

He's made a mistake. He hasn't directly harmed Thomas, but he's hurt one of his friends, and there's no justification for the way he lashed out. And he apologizes easily. But this apology is different from all his others. Let's break it down.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. Maybe I should go.

The first part. 'I'm sorry.' A simple, quick apology.

Except we've seen that he struggles with this. He never directly apologizes for anything major in the series, especially not right away. This is something instinctive. It's the same instinct as when he says 'sorry' for popping up too close and hitting Patton in the nose. He's seen a friend get hurt, so he apologizes. It's interesting that he has this same instinct with Patton and Roman, despite the fact that Roman just insulted him and they have a famously strained relationship. He sees he's hurt Roman physically and he apologizes.

(It's also notable that if Logan saw such outward signs of hurt emotionally, he might go a little easier on Roman, but Roman has always been good at hiding his emotions. Logan can't pick up as easily on the subtle things. He needs outward pain, and Roman is practiced in not showing that.)

The second part. 'I don't know what that was.'

This is even more worrying. Logan is admitting he doesn't know something. Logan is saying he doesn't understand why he did something, when he's usually a very rational person. He just acted on emotion. He lashed out in anger. And he doesn't understand that. So he can't even admit his mistake fully, because he doesn't know why it happened--he can't pin it on a lack of information, or an oversight, or not listening to every source. There's no logical way to explain what happened, at least to him. Because he denies that he has emotions and is influenced by them.

Therefore, he's already floundering in this apology. How is he supposed to apologize when he doesn't understand why he did what he did, and how is he supposed to correct a mistake when he doesn't understand why it happened?

This brings us to part three. 'Maybe I should go.'

Take a good look at that. Logan, Logic Sanders, whose whole existence revolves around helping Thomas, is offering to leave an important discussion.

He's committed an error. He's apologized. This is usually when he offers to make things better, to say he won't do this again and that he's learned from his mistakes and asks what he can do to make it up to them. Here, he's found a solution like that: he offers to leave. He says "I have made a mistake, I don't understand what happened, and I'm going to leave so I don't repeat that mistake."

In a horrible way, it's almost logical. If he doesn't understand why he did something, the easiest way to prevent such a thing from reoccurring is to change the situation and prevent himself from physically doing it again. But this is also extremely harmful. Logan has essentially given up on helping Thomas because he hurt his friend and doesn't know how to keep himself from doing it again.

He doesn't know, and that terrifies him.

So he immediately offers to leave. As if that's the most helpful thing he can do to make up for his actions: spare everyone his company. Stop contributing to the discussion, stop helping the person he cares about most, stop expressing his affection and love through helpful facts and encouraging discussions.

This isn't the first or last time that he leaves a discussion. He's done so in anger in both Moving On and Putting Others First, both times motivated by frustration at not being listened to or cared about. But it can be clearly seen that this comes from an entirely different motivation. He's hesitant and afraid of himself and what just happened. Patton yells "No!" right after Logan suggests this, and Logan visibly flinches. And when Patton continues, Logan still looks surprised, as if Patton isn't making any sense.

And after this, Logan is still a little hesitant. He pauses before clarifying "Like Maria?" and after talking about how the Snuffleupagusses (pardon the spelling if it’s incorrect) aren't imaginary, mutters to himself "Clarity" as if he's trying to convince himself of something. That's the same 'clarity' that Roman called him stupid for before. It's as if Logan's asserting his own belief that clarity is important after Roman made him doubt that.

Logan ruffles his hair, takes a deep breath, and that's the end of the scene. But the vulnerability in that moment, right after he hurt someone close to him, is still a rare moment of a Logan who has completely let his guard down. He's almost helpless, because he has no idea what to do. So he defaults to trying to help, and in this moment of uncertainty, he can only picture himself "helping" by leaving.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. Maybe I should go.

It's perhaps Logan's most sincere apology to date. However, the baggage it comes with and the situation itself make it less than a perfect moment. Instead, it reveals how unequipped Logan feels to handle his own emotional outbursts, how much he values helping others, and how he's beginning to start feeling like when he messes up, the best thing for everyone is to stay out of the way.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides theory #logan sanders angst #logan sanders theory #averywrites #i'm kinda proud of this so rbs are appreciated!!#and feel free to add stuff!!#tw caps

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snowdice · 2 years

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Messages from a Hacker (Part 5)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil

Characters: Virgil, Logan

Summary: Virgil has a presentation on his research. It’s streamed online.

Notes: Time travel AU, sort of stalkerish behavior, (not really because he is never attempting to acquire the information to get to Virgil and doesn’t pry into private things, but still watch it if it’s a trigger)

This is set during the story Folds in Paper

Virgil’s phone buzzed once as he was signing into his university account. He glanced at the notification briefly. ‘You’ll do fine.-L’

Virgil puffed out a breath. It was too late to respond to that, so he just turned his phone on silent as he pulled up his presentation. He didn’t want to be distracted by any other notifications while he was speaking.

The presentation slides loaded just fine, and the smallest amount of his worry faded away. Having his entire presentation suddenly self-destruct on some server somewhere before he could download it here had been the last major possible embarrassment his anxious mind had made up last night instead of sleeping. At least, the last major possible embarrassment that could happen before the presentation started.

He flipped through the slides a couple of times. Someone had already made sure everything was working, but it didn’t hurt to double check. He tripled checked with the person running the online stream of the presentation that they could see and hear him as well as see the slides change. She told him she could see and hear everything perfectly.

Today, Virgil was presenting on his latest published paper on the evolution of computers when the internet started to become mainstream. It should be no big deal. He was just presenting to students and colleagues about a topic he knew incredibly well. However, he was currently waiting on the last bit of approval for his summer trip that he was taking to build on the research he was talking about today, and the people who had the final say were currently in the audience…

So, mega anxiety time.

He’d barely even slept the night before making sure he had everything and there were no mistakes.

He was fully prepared to go with about 45 seconds to spare, but he felt like time was slowing down as his heartbeat sped up. He swallowed nervously and took a sip of his coffee. He grabbed his phone from where he’d laid it aside and glanced at the message from Lo again. With 30 seconds left, he sent a quick thumbs up back. Then, he put his phone down again.

He’d basically blacked out from a mix of anxiety and his teaching persona taking over at that point. Sure, he remember everything that had happened, but he had no idea at this point if he did well or not. He’d basically been on autopilot the whole time. He just knew he’d talked for 50 minutes and then left 10 minutes for questions, but none of it felt quite real. Then, he blinked, and it was over.

Well… not quite over. He still had to go to the little social thing with cookies the department always put on after big talks and pretend to be a normal functioning professional who totally did get more than 30 minutes of sleep last night. Yep… mhmmm. Tell me more about your new home security device, Todd, I’m very interested.

Finally, he managed to escape the hell that was social interactions on no sleep while coming down from an adrenaline high. He practically collapsed into his office chair. Now, he just had to get his stuff and take a quick 5-minute trip home by shuttle.

He grabbed his bag from where he’d left it that morning and went to slip his phone into it only to realize there was a notification he hadn’t noticed since he’d muted the phone for the presentation and then had been bombarded with people talking to him afterwards. It was another email from Lo.

‘You did well on your presentation.-L,’ it said.

Virgil frowned and typed out a message back. ‘How would you know? You weren’t there.-AM’

There was another email as he was locking his office door. ‘I watched the livestream of it.-L’ Another message came directly after that. ‘I hope that isn’t considered ‘creepy’ behavior. It was a public talk and you’d mentioned it, so I assumed it would be okay to attend. Apologies if I overstepped.’

‘It’s fine.-AM’ Virgil typed back.

‘Good.’

‘So, you really think it went well? I don’t even remember it if I’m being honest.-AM’

‘You did very well. Your work is very interesting, and you present it well despite your claims of being ‘too anxious to function.’-L’

Virgil felt his cheeks heat up a bit and distracted himself by swiping his card for the shuttle. ‘Thanks,’ he wrote once he was standing in the shuttle. ‘And thanks for watching it.-AM’

‘I enjoy hearing about your work. I’d like to hear more whenever you have the time.-L’ Before Virgil could respond to that, there was another message in his inbox. ‘Not today though. You did not sleep last night.’

‘Okay. Some other time.-AM’ Virgil wrote back. He couldn’t keep the smile of his face the whole ride home.

Want to read more? Click below!

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #ts sides #folds in time universe #adriana writes #not pieces fic #time travel #stalking type behavior

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

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Unfurl and Fly

Prompt: Hello! I've been meaning to request this for so long but, you'd never posted any Sanders Sides fanfics till recently so I finally get to ask! = D

This is simply a request, but could you possibly to a Hurt/Comfort and Angsty o ed! Virgil fanfiction? Where he hides his wings for whichever reason you want- And it's *painful*, and eventually his wings get to damaged from constantly being hidden and self-groomed and other stuff of the sort and the others find out either accidentally cuz Virgil is in Too Much Pain, or Virgil reaches out- Just, take creative liberties with it! (Platonic LAMP all around- Or you can decide if it's romantic! Idc, whichever you prefer-) = D You can decide whether the others have wings or not, or if it's only the 'dark sides', or no one except Virgil, etc etc. I just have craved this for So Long in your writing specifically!

Whether you decide you would like to do this idea of not, that's fine! ^^ Just thought I'd suggest it! Thank you very much! = D - moonscar

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3 The sequel: Soar

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, found family babes let’s go

Warnings: self-hatred, some implied self-harm, self-destructive behavior, poor Virgil is not having a good time, y’all. Sympathetic Janus, sympathetic Remus

Word Count: 7,932

Out of all of the Sides to have wings, why the fuck did it have to be Virgil?

Come on, it’s not like it even fits with Anxiety, being able to fly? Having these big fucking things sticking out of his back? No thank you, that’s more literally anyone else’s thing! Roman would love it, he’s sure, soaring to great heights and all that. Patton’s the closest one of them to actually being an angel. Logan could use them to fly away from the bullshit.

But nope. Virgil’s the one stuck with them. Isn’t that just fantastic.

Virgil grunts and pulls his hoodie on tighter, zipping it up over the sports bra. He growls and reaches back to tug the wings into place under the layers of fabric, hunching his back so the others don’t notice that there’s conspicuously more mass on his back than there’s supposed to be. Thank god he’s already known for baggy clothes.

He has to walk carefully. Too much jostling and the wings’ll pop loose. He leans on the stairs as much as he can before making his way to the back of the couch. He looks around. No one else is here.

Which would make sense, seeing as it’s three am.

Virgil winces when something twinges in his shoulder blade. His ears strain to pick up the sounds of anyone moving; no floorboards creak, no doors open or close, no sinks or anything else. Shit. Fuck, it’s happening when he’s breathing now too.

Shit.

Wincing, Virgil unzips his hoodie and slowly, slowly starts to lift his shirt up, sliding his hands under the material to try and—

A door opens upstairs and in a flash, Virgil’s hoodie is fully zipped up and his hands are back in his pockets.

Patton walks downstairs, rubbing his eyes. He blinks lazily and turns to go to the kitchen.

“Patton?”

Virgil winces when Patton startles horribly, whirling around until his eyes land on Virgil, perched on the back of the couch.

“You scared me, kiddo,” he pants, leaning against the counter before forcing a smile onto his face, “what’re you doing up?”

Virgil shrugs, trying to hide his flinch when one of his wings snag against something. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.” Patton tilts his head. “Anything I can do to help?”

Patton…Patton might be nice.

Patton would help, right? He—he’d care enough to help. Wouldn’t he? Patton had tried, so hard, when Virgil was first…around, just to make him comfortable, help him fit in, make him feel at…at home.

But—but Patton is the kind of person who would do anything to help someone and Virgil…Virgil doesn’t want that either.

Patton would see his wings—his ugly, dirty, huge wings—and look at Virgil with so much pity that he would be forced to help out. And the thought of hands in his wings was bad enough. The thought of unwilling hands in his wings was even worse.

Not Patton.

Virgil smiles, tightlipped in the dark. “No thanks, padre. ’S just the job.”

It’s a little sad how quickly Patton nods. “I trust you, kiddo, if you say you can do it I believe you.”

A sigh of relief lessens the ache in his shoulder blades for just a moment, then Virgil narrows his eyes. “What’re you doing up right now?”

“Needed a drink!” And sure enough, Patton goes into the kitchen and grabs a glass. “You want one?”

“…no, no I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.” Once the glass is full, Patton yawns, his jaw cracking, before he walks over to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “You gonna try and sleep a little?”

“Maybe.”

“G’night, kiddo.”

“Night.”

Once Patton vanishes back up the stairs, Virgil holds completely still until he hears the door click. As soon as it does, he slumps, burying his head in his hands, ignoring the bolt of white-hot pain that shoots through him. That was too fucking close.

What was he thinking? He can’t be here, not now, not while they hurt so much.

He sinks back to his room, biting his lip to stifle the noise when his wings slip under the bra. Now he won’t be able to get it off without hurting them—fuck why is this is fucking life?

He has to go slow, agonizing second by agonizing second, until the bra lies crumpled at the foot of his bed and he’s panting, sweat beading on his forehead and two new gashes in his lip. He takes one shuddering breath, then two, then—

“Come on, you assholes,” he mutters, “just…fucking cooperate for me.”

His wings creak and groan as he unfurls them, stretching them out until his throat protests with the effort of holding back a scream. He bound them wrong this time. One of the tendons is twisted, slipped over the bone on his right wing and every flex threatens to rip it entirely. His eyes, screwed tight from the effort, blink away tears, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He forgot to cover it again.

Virgil winces when he sees the state of his wings. The primaries aren’t lying flat, the secondaries are all bent out of shape, he can see the loose feathers stuck in the rest of the mess, and his oil gland must be clogged again. He can hear everything rasping together, the creaking, and everything. He—he has to try again.

Slowly, he sits down in front of the mirror, crossing his legs and sitting up as much as he can. He holds his wings out and winces at the sharp yank. Flexing his fingers, he reaches out with his hand and starts combing through his feathers. He can’t get the right angle no matter how much he twists his wrists and trying to hold the wing in place doesn’t work either. But he’s able to pull a few of the loose feathers out. It doesn’t matter that he plucks out several of the remaining healthy ones as well.

Alright. Step one done.

Virgil braces himself and twists, reaching out quickly for his wing before his back pulls away from him. He grabs it with two outstretched hands and can’t stop the cry of pain when another sizzling bolt races down his spine. He can barely hold onto it for three seconds before he has to let go. A roll of nausea makes him retch, hunched over himself, tears springing anew to his eyes.

Pathetic.

Can’t even clean yourself properly.

Worthless.

Useless.

Dirty.

The room rings with shuddering breaths as his chest heaves, the pain still zinging through his wings. He can’t. He can’t do it. He can’t clean them properly, not now, maybe not ever. He fucking bound them wrong, like an idiot and now he has to sleep on his stomach and if someone walks in they’ll see them and he won’t be able to bind them properly if they don’t heal and—

The fucking worst thing about his wings is they always try and make things better. They twitch whenever he’s near someone he likes or bristle when he feels upset. And when he’s alone, all by himself, about to have a panic attack, they always try and hug him.

So Virgil cries there, on the floor, surrounded by his ugly, dirty, painful wings.

He sleeps on the floor that night too, a few pillows here and there to keep him from pressing his face directly into the ground, wings as outstretched as he can until he can ignore the pain long enough to fall into a fitful, uneasy rest. When he wakes, the joints are still tender and he curses, knowing if he tries to bind them again it’ll just get worse. That means a day of staying in his room, which by itself wouldn’t be awful except that the others would know.

When Virgil was alone, he could have his wing day all by himself and no one would care. He could stay shut up in his room without fear that someone would come and knock on the door, wondering where he was, if he was okay, did he need anything? He’d tried, he’d tried so hard to convince himself that alone was better, alone was safe, alone protected him.

But the others were magnets, always pulling him closer, closer, closer until he was bound within them. How was he supposed to pull away from that warmth, that care, when every time he was close to it his wings reached out? He had to start binding them when he first appeared to Thomas, yes, but it wasn’t until recently that he had to start binding them. Because they would reach for the others. All the time.

He couldn’t have that.

So he tied them up.

And it was worth it. It was worth being able to stand next to Roman, to see that smile up close. It was worth being able to stand next to Logan, to hear him talk and explain everything he could ever want to know. It was worth being able to stand next to Patton, to feel warm and safe.

The pain was worth it, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

The others couldn’t know about his wings. If they did, they might—they would—

Only dark sides had animal traits. If they knew Virgil had wings—

Virgil shakes his head and groans into the pillow. He can’t go back. Not after what he’s done. He can’t—he won’t—there isn’t—

He barely remembers being small. He remembers being scared, being afraid, fumbling in the dark, but he almost never remembers being small. Small enough where he didn’t know yet to be afraid to ask someone for help, when hands in his wings weren’t tied up with problems or intimacy or care or obligation. Small enough where he could cuddle into the lap of someone who loved him and not have to worry.

He remembers getting older and being scared, huddling in the dark with the others.

He remembers rubbing his hand over shedding scales. He remembers helping rub away the twitches in newly formed tentacles. He remembers hands, hands in his wings.

Those memories are locked away, behind bars Virgil won’t let himself bring down.

A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

Fuck, does his throat sound like that?

“Virgil?” Logan. “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck is an alright,” Virgil mutters, pushing himself up off the ground and wincing, before raising his voice, “I’m fine, Logan.”

“You didn’t come down for breakfast—“ shit— “and we were concerned.”

“Didn’t feel like coming down,” Virgil tries, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably, “but I’m all good here.”

“Are you certain?”

Logan…Logan would help.

Logan would understand things from a logical perspective. He would be the most business-like about it, just doing what needed to be done and leaving. He might find it…interesting? He would get it over with.

He would…get it over with.

A human figure having wings is illogical. Virgil doesn’t want to be stared at like some sort of…object. And…and…Virgil wants to be cared for, not treated like a chore. The desire burns a shameful hole in his gut, the craving for soft words and gentle touches accompanied by flaming cheeks and a roll of disgust. He doesn’t think he’d be able to hold back the tears at being treated so…coldly, even if it would be better for him.

Not Logan.

“I’m sure,” Virgil grits out, “thanks, though.”

“Of course. Will we see you for dinner?”

Swallows before his tongue chokes him. “Dunno.”

“Very well.”

He hears Logan walk away and cringes. That was awful. But he’s made a commitment now, so he has to get ready for dinner. Four hours should be enough.

Sitting up is a slow process and every few moments he has to stop when his vision grows spotty. He flexes his wings, watches the shape twist back for a few seconds before he has to relax it again. The ache has dulled slightly and maybe he can try again.

Raising his arms straight above his head, muscles straining, shaking, Virgil bites his lip and holds for one, two, three seconds until he cries out and lets them drop. Nope. No way. If he can’t even do that, he’s not gonna be able to pull the sports bra over his head, much less get his wings tucked into position. He winces and looks around for the belt.

He hates using the belt but it is easier on his shoulders. Instead of tucking the whole folded-up mess into the sports bra, he folds his wings up as small as they’ll go and wraps a belt around them, straining behind him and valiantly ignoring how much it hurts until he’s sure he’s got it around the joints. He lets go with a gasp, rolling his shoulders experimentally. It still aches, yes, but much less, and as he turns to the side, if he just wears a big enough shirt, with his hoodie on, no one will notice.

That means he can use the rest of the time to get used to it.

By the time he walks down to dinner, the others are waiting, Roman’s face lighting up in a huge smile as he sees Virgil round the top of the stairs.

“There’s our little Stormcloud!” He waves Virgil over to the chair next to him. “Haven’t seen your gloomy face all day, I’ve missed it!”

Virgil snorts. “You’ve just missed seeing another version of you, Princey.”

“Can you blame me, Hot Topic?” Roman winks. “We’re gorgeous.”

“The fact that we all share a face should not be surprising to you,” Logan remarks as he closes his book.

“Aw, you think I’m hot.”

“Pasta!” Patton places the pot on the table and Virgil winces when the sound makes his wings twitch. He doesn’t catch Roman’s concerned look. “Who wants what?”

“Just olive oil for me.”

“You got it, Logan.”

“I’ve got mine,” Roman announces, sweeping half of the condiments on the table toward him and combining them in…a way.

“…jeez,” Virgil mutters.

Patton rolls his eyes fondly as Logan and Roman start idly bickering about the appropriate condiments for pasta. A steaming bowl slides to a stop in front of him and without pausing, Roman passes Virgil the jar of sauce.

Virgil watches the jar slide to a stop in front of him, blinking up at Roman who just gives him a quick wink and goes right back to bickering with Logan. Patton giggles as Logan pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously trying to hide his smile as Princey grins. It’s a game now, to see which one of them will break character first. Princey’s the actor, but Logan’s got an incredible deadpan face. And when he’s in a playful mood the two of them can go at it for hours. Virgil and Patton just sit back to watch the show.

As it turns out, both of them break character at the same time tonight, Logan stumbling over a word, and Princey accidentally slurring Logan’s name as he tries to come up with a comeback. Logan immediately tries to hide his smile behind his hand only to snort when Princey screws his face up in protest.

“How did I manage to do that,” he cries, “I said—what the hell did I say?”

Patton’s laughing too hard to answer and Virgil just shakes his head helplessly.

Logan snorts. Tries to stifle it again. Then his giggles start to slip out. “D-damn it.”

Roman gives up trying to stop his own cackles and throws his head back, letting it ring out. “We were doing so well, too!”

“We were indeed,” Logan says through a smile, “perhaps we should try again.”

“No, no, no, I won’t be able to get any words out before I’m reminded of whatever the heck my tongue did.”

“What word were you trying to say?”

“I don’t even remember.”

Dinner gets finished and Logan stands to help Patton clean up. Roman leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. Virgil watches him, his eye first caught by the movement, lingering when he sees the rush of relief on Roman’s face.

Is…is that what stretching is supposed to feel like?

“Stormcloud?”

Virgil blinks. Oh. Oh, fuck, he’s staring. Roman stares down at him, his head tilted.

“You’ve been quiet today, Stormcloud,” Roman says, too low for Logan or Patton to hear, “everything Gucci?”

Nope. Princey’s not allowed to do that. Definitely not. He’s not allowed to sound that caring because Virgil will talk to him.

“Everything’s fine.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Roman halfheartedly as he chuckles.

He goes to pull his hand back but Roman catches it, making him wince when his wings jar. This time he doesn’t miss Roman’s look of concern.

“Virgil,” Roman calls, “are you hurt?”

Yes. “Nah. Just slept weird.” On the ground, in pain.

“You don’t want me to sic Patton on you, do you?”

Virgil shudders, ignoring the twinge in his wings again. “No. Nope. I’m good.”

Roman chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. “Alright. You just come and tell me when you need something, hmm?”

Roman…maybe Roman?

Roman, who is desire and passion and so, so warm to the touch. Roman, who has tried so, so hard to make Virgil his friend, to care for him. Roman, who looks at Virgil with soft expressions and sly winks and is just so there.

…Roman, who treated him like a villain. Roman, who Virgil knows struggles to keep his own head above water most of the time. Roman, who can put on a mask to rival any actor’s, who can hide everything so well they might never know what’s really going on.

Not Roman.

“…yeah, sure, Princey.”

“Marvelous!”

And despite everything, despite the pain in his wings and the belt digging into the soft points of his feathers, Virgil smiles, just a little.

If this is what he has to deal with to be a part of this, then he’ll do it.

Then Deceit shows up and Virgil panics.

Not because of what this means, not because of how it’s going to affect Thomas, but because Deceit knows.

Deceit knows that Virgil has wings. Deceit knows that Virgil is a dark side. Deceit knows that Virgil hasn’t told the others.

He’s safe—at least he thinks he’s safe—because if Deceit tells them about his wings, he’d have to tell the others he sheds too. And Deceit won’t ever volunteer information about himself like that. Virgil has one moment of panic on the witness stand, thinking Deceit’s about to split his defenses wide open, but no, no, he’s wings stay tucked up, ugly and rumpled, Virgil’s very own dirty little secret.

Luckily—or unluckily—there are too many other things to focus on for Deceit to let slip that particular little secret. Virgil is too worried about Thomas and Patton and Roman and Logan and everything to worry any more about his wings. He runs on adrenaline and worries for days, weeks, months until it’s all he can think about, over and over, coffee being drained as quickly as Logan can brew it.

He plucks out his own feathers in the dark and washes the blood off the carpet. He strains to move his arms, his shoulders, anything, just to get a little more range of motion. He wipes the crusted salt from the corner of his eyes and grits his teeth.

Then Remus shows up and does what Remus does best: wreak absolute chaos.

Roman is knocked out, Logan gets a shuriken in the forehead, and Virgil tells Thomas he used to be a dark side.

The second he sinks into his room after that he tears at himself, his hoodie thrown to the corner of the room as his wings groan and buckle and writhe as Virgil paces.

Why did he do that why did he do that now he knows now they know now it’s going to be so much worse they’re going to hate me again I’m going to be alone alone is safe alone protects me but alone is cold and lonely and alone hurts it hurts I hurt make it stop please—

He’s panicking, he knows he’s panicking, he knows he should go, go find someone, have Logan help him, talk to Roman, get a hug from Patton, but his wings are out, he can’t put them away and they hurt, they hurt so much, everything hurts so much, he just wants it to stop.

Virgil collapses onto the floor, ignoring the sickening crunch as one of his wings buckles under his weight. It just…it just hurts.

Thomas doesn’t say anything.

Patton doesn’t say anything.

Logan doesn’t say anything.

Roman doesn’t say anything.

Remus doesn’t say anything.

Janus doesn’t say anything.

And somehow…somehow that’s worse.

It doesn’t get easier, it just gets repetitive.

He doesn’t try to get the spots he can’t reach anymore. He knows he can’t get the oil glands cleaned. He washes them as best he can but he knows he can’t dry them properly. He wears the sports bra. He wears the belt.

He endures.

Then he fucks up.

Janus has been watching him. In fairness, Janus watches everybody, but he’s been keeping a particularly close eye on Virgil. If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d think Janus was suspicious of him, that he’d do something to ruin Janus’s seat at the table, or hurt the others, or try and turn them against each other. It would make sense, given their…history.

But Virgil knows Janus better than that.

He knows that look and that’s why he shies away from it.

He lashes out and he hates himself for it. He scorns Janus’s attention and has to hold back a gag. He slams his door shut and claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying.

He can’t let himself stop now. If he stops he’ll fall apart. He’s been numb for so long he wants to stay numb, can’t start feeling it again or—or—

He can’t. He just can’t. The dark sides may be accepted now but that says nothing about Virgil.

Which is why it is so, so stupid that Janus chooses to stand next to Logan when the next session comes. Because he’s right there, so close, where Virgil can practically feel his presence prickling along his left side and he’s so glad he bit the bullet and wore the sports bra today because his wings are straining to reach for him.

But then Remus pops up next to Roman and Virgil visibly flinches.

He’s able to pass it off as surprise but the knowing look Janus gives him tells him Janus can see right through him.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t. He left the dark side ages ago, he shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—

He shouldn’t be aching for them. For all of them. His wings shouldn’t be bristling and yearning and his back shouldn’t feel like it’s splitting in two right now.

His mind shouldn’t be filled with thoughts of the soft touches they would give him as the helped groom his wings, the gentle jabs and playful barbs tossed back and forth as they supported each other.

He shouldn’t feel so cold.

The debate is already going, Logan and Patton tossing things back and forth, Roman and Remus doing the same. Janus adds a comment here and there, Thomas frantically trying to keep track of all of them. It’s far too easy for Virgil to withdraw, sink into his head, focus on keeping his wings in, make them stop, ignore the ache.

Someone shouts right next to his ear and without thinking, Virgil reaches out and grabs Janus’s cloak.

He freezes.

Fuck fuck fuck he fucked up he fucked up—

Why the fuck had he done that? Was it just because he was scared? He’s Anxiety, he’s always scared, why had this made him do something he hadn’t done since he was tiny?

He’s not some frightened child anymore, tugging on his parent’s clothes to beg for scraps of comfort. Is this what he fucking wants, to be coddled, told pretty lies about how everything was fine?

Too late, he realizes he’s still holding on and tries to let go quickly enough that no one will notice.

It only partially works.

The others are too busy scolding Remus—who just looks very pleased with himself—to notice. Except for Janus.

Of fucking course Janus notices.

Virgil shoves his traitorous hands into his pockets. He hunches his back, not caring that it makes his wings strain against the fabric of his hoodie. The only one who could see them right now is Janus and Virgil’s already dug his grave there, hasn’t he?

He just wants this to be over so he can go and Janus will stop looking at him.

The video ends and he can’t be the first one to sink out of the common area, that will draw attention, he can’t draw any more attention, but the longer he stays then someone will ask him something and he doesn’t want to—

Oh.

He blinks. Is…is the room empty? Oh. He can sink out now.

…or he could stay here.

The others tend to go cool off in their rooms after heated videos, just until they can all come out and make nice again. Virgil…Virgil has the common room to himself.

“Virgil?”

Fuck.

“…hey, Janus.”

“Hello,” Janus says softly, and no, no, no, don’t do that.

Janus is being kind and it’s so hard for Virgil to just stand here and not let his wings rip out of the hoodie. He didn’t sink out, he stayed, of course he fucking stayed, Virgil tugged on his cape like a little kid—

Virgil curses under his breath, collapsing to sit on the steps. He ignores Janus’s soft noise of concern and balls his hands up, beating out an erratic rhythm on his legs. His back hurts. His shoulders hurt. His wings hurt. Now his legs hurt. Now his hands hurt.

Something grabs his hands and pulls them over his head. The searing pain tears a cry out of his throat.

“Shh, shh—“ Janus, it’s Janus— “none of that now, sweetie.”

“Let me go.” It’s meant to come out as a snarl but instead, here Virgil is, whimpering at Janus’s feet.

“Will you keep hurting yourself if I let you go?”

No, Virgil wants to lie, yes, he wants to say just to spite him, what comes out of his mouth is neither of these.

“You’re hurting me,” he pants, “you’re—it hurts.”

Janus is silent above him, still holding his arms firmly above his head. Virgil chokes back a sob in the agonizingly painful position, barely suppressing his cries enough to still his shoulders which of course did nothing to alleviate the pain. Then another hand—right, he has six—touches gently beneath his chin, guiding his head up.

Virgil meets such an open expression of concern that tears spring to the corners of his eyes. He looks away immediately, only for Janus to crouch in front of him. He keeps a hold of Virgil’s hands but the release in his shoulders is enough to make him gasp.

“Sweetie,” Janus calls, “sweetie, look at me.”

“No.”

“Virgil, I need you to look at me.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil looks up at Janus. Janus squeezes his hands once.

“When was the last time you had your wings groomed?”

Virgil’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

“Y-yesterday.”

“Did you do it yourself?”

“…yeah.”

“When was the last time someone else helped you groom them properly?”

Virgil swallows heavily and doesn’t say anything.

“…oh, sweetie, have you not had anyone help you groom them since…?”

Janus doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before Virgil’s nodding, the shameful secret finally spilling out. It’s Janus, he rationalizes, he knows how to keep a secret, right?

“Why haven’t you told them,” Janus murmurs, his voice broken, “why, sweetie?”

“Because telling people things is always so easy,” Virgil snarls.

Janus accepts it with a slow nod, reaching out to cup Virgil’s cheek. On instinct, Virgil jerks back, unable to get away from the touch because of the grip on his hands. Janus’s eyes widen.

“…oh, sweetie…”

“Don’t tell them,” Virgil blurts out, “please don’t tell them.”

“You’ve been hurting yourself, Virgil,” Janus whispers, “so badly, I can’t let that continue.”

“I’ll—I’ll fix it, I can fix it—“

“You know you can’t do this by yourself, honey.”

“I have to,” Virgil cries out finally, “I have to, I can’t—I messed up, I messed everything up, I have to do it alone now, I have to—“

“What did you mess up, sweetie?”

“You a-and Remus and I can’t—I can’t ask you ‘cause I messed it up so bad—“

“Shh, shh,” Janus soothes instantly, reaching out with another pair of hands to cup Virgil’s face properly, “you haven’t lost me, sweetie, you haven’t messed anything up so badly. You know you can come to me for help, you can always come here.”

“But you’re—“

“What, sweetie,” Janus prompts when Virgil cuts himself off, “what am I?”

Nope. Because Virgil can’t even use the dark side excuse anymore because now the dark sides are accepted. He has no fucking excuse. He has no justification for why he’s doing this. He’s—he’s—

He’s hurting himself.

“It hurts,” he whispers instead, “m-make it stop.”

“Do you have enough energy to sink out, sweetie?” Virgil shakes his head. “Okay. I need you to stand up for me, honey.”

Getting to his feet is a slow process, Janus murmuring encouragement as they go. He sets Virgil’s hands gently against the stair railing and whispers that he’ll be right back, he just has to grab some things, wait here, please? Virgil lets him go and clutches the railing for dear life, trying to keep the waves of nausea inside thank you very much.

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen him?”

“I knocked on his door, he didn’t answer.”

“So?”

“So I…tried the knob.”

“Roman!”

“I know, I know, I’m not supposed to, but I was worried and he isn’t in there, so—“

“Wait, he’s not in his room?”

“No! That’s the problem!”

“Well then where is he?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I came to find you two!”

“Wait…Virgil?”

No, no, no—

“Stormcloud,” Roman breathes from the top of the stairs, racing down, “there you are, we’ve been looking for you!”

“What’re you doing down here, kiddo,” Patton asks worriedly, “are you…you don’t look so good.”

Logan hustles around the end of the stairs to face him and no, no, Virgil doesn’t want this, not now—

“Virgil,” Logan calls softly and he sounds so much like he cares— “Virgil, are you having trouble standing?”

Virgil nods jerkily.

“Let’s have you sit down, then,” he continues gently, trying to cover up the shake in his voice.

When he doesn’t move, Roman can’t help himself. He walks forward, his arms opening to hover around Virgil’s waist.

“Can I carry you, Stormcloud,” he asks, “just to the couch?”

What does he do? He can’t say no, not when they look so worried. They just keep asking questions, they’ll just—but Janus asked him to wait for him, but standing is so hard and they all look so worried—

He nods again.

Logan carefully places his hands around Roman’s neck as Roman scoops him into a princess carry, heading for the couch. He sits down in the middle, holding Virgil as securely as he can, looking up when Logan crouches in front of them, nervously adjusting his tie. Patton sits on his side, pulling Virgil’s legs into his lap.

“What do we do?” Roman whispers. “I don’t—what do you need, Stormcloud?”

Logan nods encouragingly, still looking at Virgil with his brows drawn until realization dawns on his face.

“Virgil,” he says as he gets up to sit beside Roman, resting his hands on Virgil’s shoulders to encourage him to lean against him, “are you…is your ‘everything machine’ breaking?”

Oh.

Yeah, that’s what’s happening.

It’s Roman’s turn to have the ‘aha’ moment when he nods, taking one of Virgil’s hands and tenderly pressing a kiss to it. Logan keeps a steady, grounding pressure on his sides as Roman carefully lies him on the couch, going to the kitchen.

“Can you sit up? It’s perfectly alright if you can’t,” Logan assures quickly, “but it might be easier to drink something if you are upright.”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “we’ll go slowly, alright? If you feel dizzy or light-headed at any point, squeeze my hand and you can lie back down.”

As promised, by the time they’re fully sitting up, Logan’s hand still on his shoulder, Roman’s breezed back in with a tissue box, a glass of water, a glass of orange juice, and a mini french loaf on a tray, set it all down on the coffee table, pulled the table close enough where he can perch on the edge, and reached out to take his hand again. Patton rubs encouraging circles into his knee, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

Virgil can’t move. He doesn’t know what to do. He—they feel so warm, they keep touching him so gently, it—his wings are straining.

He whimpers when Logan’s hand lands on his back and Logan moves away immediately. The loss of contact has him itching to reach out but he can’t can’t can’t—

“Well.”

Janus.

Virgil blinks, and sure enough, there he is, standing with his hands clasped out of sight. Distantly, Virgil thanks that he’s still trying to keep Virgil’s secret, hiding whatever he has behind his back. He makes eye contact with Virgil and asks a silent question.

Virgil can’t respond.

“Janus,” Patton says, “do you—do you know what’s going on?”

“Can we help,” Roman blurts, “with whatever it is?”

Logan stays silent, gaze going back and forth between Virgil and Janus. Janus doesn’t take his eyes off Virgil.

He’s waiting, Virgil realizes, to see if I’m going to let them help.

…he doesn’t really have a reason not to anymore, does he?

Logan leans closer, his lips barely brushing Virgil’s temple.

“Please,” he whispers, “please, dearheart, let us help care for you.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“…help.”

It’s loud enough for Janus to hear and he nods sharply, sitting down on the floor and holding out his arms. “You’re going to need to pass him to me. Be careful of his back.”

It takes the other three to get him tucked up against Janus’s chest before they shuffle back, wary. Janus wraps his lowest pair of arms around Virgil’s hips, holding him close.

“You just focus on me, sweetie,” he whispers, much too quiet for the others to hear, “and if you want them gone, you say so, okay?”

“R-Remus?”

“Remus is coming, sweetie, he found me looking for your things.”

“You kept them?”

“Of course we kept them.” Janus rests their foreheads together. “Of course we did.”

Janus holds him close, whispers a few more soft words, until Virgil nods and lets him unzip his hoodie.

“How, sweetie?”

“…sports bra.”

He can hear Janus swallow a noise of protest before he nods. “I’m going to have to cut them off, it’s going to hurt too much if we try and pry it off you.”

“But—“

“Sweetie,” Janus hushes, “you’re losing circulation, it’s not good for you.”

Virgil shudders. “…does that mean you have to cut off m-my shirt too?”

“Do you think you can hold your arms up long enough to get it off?”

“…no.”

Janus holds him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Against his better judgment, Virgil turns and tucks his head into the crook of Janus’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent. “…always are.”

“I’m going to need the others to help me, help you, okay?” When Virgil nods, he can feel Janus look at the others, can feel the way his face changes.

“Roman.”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I need you to get Virgil’s hoodie off.”

“O-okay,” Roman says, and Virgil can hear him shuffle up behind them, “is it already unzipped?”

“It is.”

“Here we go, Stormcloud,” Roman says softly, sliding the battered old thing from Virgil’s shoulders like it’s some fine silk garment, “you’re doing great…there. Where should I—“

“On the couch.”

There are a few more rustlings and then Janus’s mouth appears by Virgil’s ear again.

“I’m going to cut them off now. You just hold still for me, alright?” Virgil nods and Janus squeezes him around the waist. “Good.”

He turns his attention to the others. “Virgil has decided to trust you with this. I have decided to trust you with this. Betray that trust and you will not like the consequences. Am I clear?”

Murmured assurances. Then the soft rip, rip, riiiiiip of fabric, and the pressure on his wings releases.

Virgil’s sure Janus is talking from the vibration of his throat and he’s also sure the others are saying something back, but he can’t hear anything right now over the rush of blood in his ears from his wings unfurling, creaking, in all their ugly, dirty glory.

He winces, tries to stretch them, only to hear a cry of dismay from over his shoulder and an ‘oh, sweetie,’ from Janus. The tendon snaps back out of place and his wings slump.

“Virgil,” Janus says next to his ear, “Virgil, Remus is here now. Do you think you can explain what we need to do or would you like us to?”

Virgil should explain. It’s his problem. It’s his responsibility.

But…but it would be nice to not have to…for once. To…to let them take care of him.

“…c-can you?”

“We can.”

He feels another warm hand on his bare side and Remus’s voice in his ear.

“Hey,” Remus says, “you really are a mess right now, huh?”

Coming at any other time, it would be an insult. But right now, laced with concern, Remus’s statement sends a rush of warmth down Virgil’s spine.

“We need to get the tendon reset first,” Remus says. Someone shuffles over to join him. “You know what you’re doing?”

“I think so.” Oh. It’s Logan. Logan knows what he’s doing. Good, good. “Hold still for us, dearheart.”

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Logan stammers, “but we’ve got it now.”

“You’re gonna be sore for a bit, little monster,” Remus says, “but Logan’s right. You’re all reset now. You wanna stretch it out? Carefully?”

Virgil does, tentatively extending his wing and it—it feels better. Well, it feels bruised and sore and achy—but it feels better.

“It…it’s back,” Virgil says in a strangled whisper, “it’s back.”

“Yes, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Virgil drifts. In and out. He hears Remus explain how to straighten his feathers, feels two strong steady hands carding through them, Looks up to see Roman, expression more focused than he’s ever seen, sees that expression melt when he catches Virgil’s eyes. Plucks a loose feather out and lays it in a growing pile.

Feels two more on his other side and looks around to see Patton doing the same, running his fingers through the primaries, secondaries, up to the covets, and through the scapulars. Feels his fingers linger just where the tips of the feathers brush Virgil’s bare back, stroking reassuring rhythms where he lands.

Janus still has two of his arms holding Virgil in his lap. With Virgil’s nod, he slowly raises Virgil’s arms above his head again, letting the others have access to the rest of his wings. With his last two hands, he starts smoothing the bottom of his wings, lingering in the spots where Virgil winces, gently tugging and adjusting until everything’s just right.

A flash of movement and he sees Remus over Janus’s shoulder, grabbing a spray bottle and two hairbrushes. He ruffles Virgil’s hair as he goes back around, warning him before he starts gently spraying Virgil’s wings, passing the hairbrushes to Roman and Patton with the instructions to try and get as much of the gunk out as possible.

“You,” Roman murmurs as he works, “are magnificent, Virgil, just look at you.”

“Don’t,” Virgil manages, “please don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing,” Roman promises, brushing a part of his wing that sends a shudder down his spine, “you’re…you’re—these are spectacular, Virgil, truly.”

Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…ugly.”

“What?”

“…they’re ugly.”

“Of course they’re not, what do you…” Roman turns to him. “Stormcloud, who told you that?”

“…me.”

“Falsehood,” comes Logan’s voice from directly behind him, “your wings are indeed quite splendid.”

“Because they’re interesting?”

“Because they are a part of you,” Logan corrects softly, “and yes, because they are interesting.”

“We love you, kiddo.” Patton reaches up to squeeze his hand. “That means all of you, even your wings.”

Virgil opens his mouth to respond when hands slip through his feathers and every breath is stolen from his body.

“Here,” Logan says softly, “are they here?”

“Yep. Feel around in there a little, you should find the—“

“Here.”

Two thumbs swipe over the glands and Virgil shudders, right down to the tips of his wings. Logan pauses, leaning forward and doing it again. Virgil shudders harder, warmth shooting through his body, so warm, so warm. Then Logan’s hands start spreading the oil through his feathers and Virgil can’t.

“Shh,” Janus soothes, holding him tightly, “shh, I know, sweetie, just hold on…you’re doing so well.”

“Be gentle, Logan,” Roman orders, his gaze fixed on Virgil’s face.

“I am.” Logan does it again and Virgil gasps. “This area is simply…sensitive.”

Virgil swallows. “…haven’t…haven’t been able to…to…”

“You have not been able to reach these areas yourself,” Logan finishes when Virgil can’t make words happen anymore, “and so the sensation is heightened by the newness of it.”

“Y-yeah.”

Then Roman’s hand brushes over his alula and he whimpers.

“S-sorry.”

“Would I be mistaken in saying this is quite…an intimate action?” Virgil shakes his head at Logan’s question. “Then you do not need to apologize. Trusting others with this level of intimacy is difficult, and you are doing very well.”

“You are, kiddo,” Patton adds when Virgil makes a noise of protest, “and you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. It’s okay that you’re sensitive, it’s okay.”

“Is this alright, Stormcloud,” Roman asks softly as he keeps brushing the feathers, “can we keep going?”

“Mhm,” Virgil mumbles, head lolling forward, “mhm.”

“Good.”

As they finish removing the clearly damaged feathers, the real grooming starts. Roman and Patton start gently tugging here and there to pull out loose and broken feathers, pushing the ones that are just slightly crooked back into place. The hairbrushes, with nice wooden spokes, split the feathers easily without a snag as Logan carefully works the oil throughout. Remus slips down, carefully spreading the oil over Virgil’s back, kneading out the tension from his sore muscles. Janus holds him steady, murmuring softly.

Virgil floats, punch-drunk on the fuzzy feeling from Logan’s hands, Patton’s hands, Roman’s hands, Remus’s hands, Janus’s hands. It’s so warm, so warm, as he feels the lingering strings of hurt and tension slowly and persistently untangled from his wings.

“I think that’s everything,” comes Logan’s soft voice an uncertain amount of time later, and yet none of the hands move away.

“You’re so pretty, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, running his hands through the feathers, “so, so pretty.”

“Guess you really did dig the purple, huh?” Remus gives Virgil’s hair a ruffle. “I think these are the best these have looked in a while.”

Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…yeah, well…”

Janus shushes him. “It doesn’t matter, now, sweetie. It’s okay.”

“You were hesitant because being vulnerable is hard,” Logan adds, still stroking up and down the joint of his wings, “that isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

Virgil opens his mouth to reply when Logan’s fingers skitter over the spot right under the joint and he cries out.

“…Virgil?”

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil simply shudders, his back arching. Slowly, he does it again, smiling when Virgil all but purrs.

“I think he likes that,” Patton says quietly, “don’t you, kiddo?”

Virgil whines.

“Where else are you sensitive,” Roman murmurs, scritching his fingers lightly along the top of Virgil’s wing, “where else, Stormcloud?”

“I don’t think he’s got command of words right now,” Remus chuckles.

“If Virgil’s wings are anatomically similar to bird wings,” Logan murmurs, “then…”

Roman’s hand is tangled in his alula. Patton’s hands are rubbing at the crook of his wings. Logan’s thumbs stroke over the oil glands again.

Virgil’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry.

Remus’s thumbs suddenly dig into the space between his shoulder blades, startling a short moan out of him. He hears a chuckle from over his shoulder.

“Does that feel good, dearheart,” Logan murmurs, his nails scraping lightly over the soft skin where Virgil’s wings met his back, “right there?”

Virgil’s only response is a long, low, drawn-out sound that would have been mortifying had he any control over his brain right now.

“Oh, wow,” Patton mumbles from the side.

Roman reaches up and wiggles his fingers next to Logan’s and Virgil keens.

Janus chuckles, lowering Virgil’s arms around his neck and reaching out to scritch lightly at the marginal covets. “You’re about to get spoiled, sweetie,” he murmurs, “you just hang on, hmm?”

Virgil wraps his arms around Janus and holds on for dear life just as fingers wiggle into his axillaries and he freezes.

Then he melts, right into Janus, right into the hands in his wings, the sound physically being ripped out of his chest.

Lips brush the side of his neck like the owner couldn’t stop themselves. The hand on his right twitches violently. From his left comes a long, shuddering breath.

“Oh, Stormcloud—“ Roman, that’s Roman— “you best believe we’re going to spoil you all the time.”

Just like that, everything multiplies. Pats, strokes, kneads, scritches, ruffles, so many so many so many gentle, adoring touches and soft voices in his ears and Virgil flies.

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #remus #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sympathetic light sides #tw self harm

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