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delimeful · 5 months

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WIBAR Intermission: Visiting Home (1/3)

G/T July Day 17: Home

this intermission has 3 parts, taking place during different points in the WIBAR timeline. this chapter takes place before LMMR/Act 2 of WIBAR! baby time :)

shoutout to nyn for inspiring the last scene with Roman at the end!

warnings: negative assumptions, mentions of blood/hunting/injury, mild fear/nervousness, other than that it's all fluff (literally)

Despite the tension buzzing at the back of his skull, Virgil found that being planetside again was surprisingly… nice.

He would have preferred that it was an uninhabited area— or at least, that it wasn’t one of the only places in the universe that had aliens he really, really couldn’t afford to terrify— but he couldn’t deny that feeling the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his skin was soothing, a balm he hadn’t known he’d needed.

It wasn’t the same as Earth, not really, but Patton’s home planet was close enough to familiar that he found tension seeping from his overwrought muscles despite himself.

He shook some of the dazed contentment off, flicking a glance over his shoulder and reminding himself that if any of the locals saw him, it could spell Capital-D Disaster.

His little excursion into one of the less populated natural areas near the little port town was entirely unplanned, and all the riskier for it, but they simply hadn’t had any better options.

Patton had been putting off visiting his family for longer than anyone would have liked— first with the excuse of healing from his injuries, and then with the financial strain that had come from his crewmates dedicating the bulk of their time to searching for him, rather than doing their usual delivery and transport jobs.

(The strain of providing for an entire new off-the-books crewmate, too, Virgil knew. He tried to avoid taking up too much, resource-wise, but there was only so little he could eat before his symptoms went from barely-tolerable to unmanageable.

The adrenaline crash and resulting sprains after he’d intervened in the raiders’ attack had been a painful reminder that most days, his body felt like it was barely holding together at the seams.)

Finally, they’d managed to weave together a cover story believable enough that the trip was set in motion, with the caveat that Patton would go planetside to visit, and Virgil would stay on the ship, up in orbit, firmly out of range of discovery.

Patton hated the idea of lying to his loved ones, wanted more than anything to introduce Virgil and prove he wasn’t the monster the galaxy thought he was, but even his stubborn optimism hadn’t held up under the combined forces of the other 3/4ths of the crew.

It was too dangerous for word to get out about Virgil, especially after the close call they’d already had, narrowly averted thanks to Remyy. Between Logan’s points on the historical government response to rumors of rogue humans, Roman’s assertions that bounty hunters of all kinds would begin targeting them, and Virgil’s own intense discomfort with the idea of his existence being revealed to others when he’d only just gotten free, Patton had conceded, if a bit morosely.

So, things had proceeded according to plan… right up until Patton’s clutchmates commed in, requesting that they bring the Mindscape down so that they could fill Patton’s quarters and kitchen with a variety of gifts and supplies to remind him of home after he left.

Patton hadn’t been informed. A surprise, they’d said, meant to show their love and care for their sibling in a way that would linger as long as possible.

It was a cultural custom, apparently, and Patton’s hard headed tendencies must have run in the family, because they’d refused to take no for an answer without a good reason.

Unfortunately for the reason in question, informing them that there was another crew member onboard who couldn’t be seen by anyone else would only defeat the purpose of staying off planet in the first place.

And so, after very intense sweep of the ship to hide away any trace of Virgil’s presence, he’d swept his old cloak around his shoulders, followed Logan offboard, and let himself be guided to what seemed to be an unoccupied area of the coastal jungle that surrounded the local populace.

Logan had requested he stay in the general area until he returned from corralling the busybody relatives, and then rushed back to the ship where Roman waited, looking more harried than Virgil had ever seen him.

It was an awkward, stressful situation, sure. But he still couldn’t help but marvel a little at the thick, dark fronds of the trees and the almost powdery texture of the grey-white sand beneath his feet.

He hadn’t gotten very many chances to actually appreciate the wonder of being in space, on alien planets, with how much of his stay so far had either been locked in cages aboard ships or on the run, too busy trying to survive to take in the scenery.

Running his fingers over the corkscrew-patterned bark of one of the nearby tree trunks, Virgil didn’t notice the slight rustling of a nearby brush.

—

Marren had thought the alien an intruder at first, had skidded to a halt and narrowly avoided toppling out of the underbrush right in front of them.

Behind her, Robbyn and Denel tumbled against her back with the beginnings of peeped complaints at the interruption of their game.

“Ssst!” Marren made a whistle that was more air than sound, her baby feathers ruffling up in pre-emptive upset. “Quiet, there’s a stranger!”

Unlike any other game, her playmates immediately went silent, eyes growing round and nervous. They all knew better than to catch the attention of a maybe-dangerous unfamiliar alien.

Especially now. One of the older kids had told horror stories about smugglers when the grown-ups weren’t listening, insisting that straying fledglings would get all their feathers shredded off and fed to the horrible monsters at the bottom of the Spacesea, where starlight and ships alike couldn’t reach.

They’d gotten in big trouble for the tall tales, but the story had already been taken up by the waves and couldn’t be squashed, especially with the fearful but dedicated belief of younger fledglings.

“Is it a monster?” Denel asked, already looking more fluff than form.

Marren… couldn’t really tell.

They were huge, even bigger than the Draellex spacefarer who had come to do a presentation for her class last season, but most of their features were also obscured by the long, deep grey cloak that they were swathed in.

“They’ve got hands,” she reported instead, because the stranger was touching various plants and rocks with nubby, strangely smooth fingers. “No claws, though.”

“Maybe a trader ship came early?” Robbyn offered thoughtfully. Their downy soft pink feathers were the least fluffed up between the three of them, their gaze focused on the alien with an intense curiosity.

“We woulda seen it, right?” Marren replied dubiously, before going quiet for a moment as the hooded head of the stranger turned and paused as though listening.

She didn’t continue until they turned back to their slow inspection of the wildlife, letting out a tiny peep-peep-peep of relief. “The only ship that came down is Uptel Patton’s, and he’s only got two playmates.”

She’d only met one of her Uptel’s friends in person, and only when she was a baby baby, way before her first molt, so she barely remembered it, but there were plenty of pictures in her Elder Uptel Farrun’s home. Patton’s parents were always happy to talk about their spacefarer son, and Marren always got a fun trinket from her Uptel when he visited.

Well. Almost always.

He’d seemed very distracted when she’d seen him this morning, enough that he’d barely noticed her amongst the many relatives that had swarmed to greet him after his longer than usual absence.

Something bad had happened to him, Marren had been told, which had made his parents’ home feel all sad-grief-loss whenever she visited, but he was all better now.

She wasn’t so sure. Everyone around him had felt like relief-joy-kinship at the sight of him, sure, but her Uptel had never flinched away from preening before.

“Maybe he got a new one?” Denel asked, still half-hidden behind Robbyn but not quite as frightened.

Marren made a considering chirp, and then began shuffling under the wiry branches as quietly as possible, seeking out a closer bush.

“Where are you going?” both of her playmates asked in very different tones.

“Gonna look closer,” she replied, and then froze as the answer carried farther than she meant it to.

The stranger turned sharper this time, and searched the clearing with tiny back-and-forth movements of their head.

“Patton?” they called after a moment, and Marren almost startled back in shock: the alien had spoken Uptel Patton’s actual name, not the Common version, and sounded uncannily close to an actual Ampen.

If it weren’t for how impossibly big the stranger was, she might have thought it was a simple prank, a couple of older kids stacked on top of each other under a form-disguising cloak.

Her gaze trailed down and finally focused on the familiar glow coming from the shadowed neckline of the cloak. She would know that glow anywhere!

“They’ve gotta special charm!” she crowed, and pushed past the branches to dart out into the open, intent on inspecting her Uptel’s newest friend.

Patton’s friend stumbled back hard with a sharp inhale, and Marren abruptly remembered that it wasn’t polite to startle people, especially strangers, and slowed to a stop. She angled her head up to try and peer into the shadows of the hood, squinting her eyes almost closed in as innocent and friendly a look as possible.

“I’m Marren,” she introduced herself, using the little bit of Common that her Uptel had taught her. “The stars greet you and so do I!”

That kind of greeting was more for actually being up in space with all the stars, but she figured it was the thought that counted.

Patton’s friend muttered something in an unfamiliar language, their tone soft, and then lowered themself to a seated position, much slower than they’d moved before. “My name is Virgil. It’s… nice to sea you?”

Marren let out a peal of chirping laughter, nearly knocking herself off balance with the force of her amusement.

That was definitely one of Uptel Patton’s friends, alright. He was the only bondrelative she had who put silly word jokes in his greetings like that.

“Can I sea you?” she shot back brightly, and when that didn’t seem to make it through, she pretended to move an invisible hood down from her own head.

Friend Virgil went all stiff for a moment, before speaking again. “I don’t think… uh, that’s not a good idea. I’m… I’m shy.”

Marren was distracted for a moment by puzzling through the words; it was an odd combination of Common and Ampen words, some of them a little smushed together until they almost seemed like a new word entirely.

Once the meaning behind the answer registered, though, she made a long, protesting whistle. “I’m not gonna be mean to you! Denel’s shy, too, you guys can get along!”

“Denel?” Friend Virgil echoed, again pronouncing the name eerily accurately, and Marren heard a little peep of alarm from behind her.

Antennae twitching with frustration, she turned and gave the bushes her best irritated stare, fluffing up indignantly. “They’re Patton’s friend! They’ve gotta be nice to me, I’m his favorite telit! Stop acting so new-hatched!”

“You’re his only little cousin,” Robbyn was speaking to her as they hopped into view, but their wide eyes were locked on Friend Virgil like they’d just found a shiny new stone. “Can they talk?”

“Kinda,” Marren chirped back, since it seemed like Friend Virgil knew more of the spacefarer tongue than their native one. “I know enough space words to translate! Probably.”

“You’re going to hurt your throat,” Robbyn cautioned in their best know-it-all voice. Marren was saved from having to answer by the thud of Denel tripping his own way out of the bush.

With his underlayer all fluffed out like that, it was no wonder that he accidentally rolled a few feather-lengths along the ground, squawking in high-pitched, babyish alarm as he tumbled.

Friend Virgil leaned forward so quickly that even Marren peeped in surprise, but all they did was set a humongous cupped hand next to Denel to keep him from toppling any further. Denel pulled all his limbs in with a panicked squeak as he bumped into the helping hand, and turned his head to peer up at Friend Virgil nervously.

“Safe and sound,” Friend Virgil crooned, in the sort of lullaby sing-song tone that was usually used to soothe hatchlings. “Okay, good, okay?”

It took Denel a stunned moment to respond, but when he chirped affirmative, the waver in his whistle had faded to almost nothing. He slowly uncurled, and even reached out for balance as he got back upright, looking absolutely awestruck.

He was way more aether-sensitive than most fledglings, Marren recalled, which meant that Friend Virgil must have been radiating some deeply trustworthy energy. As always, she had been totally right! Of course Patton’s friend was nice!

Marren wasted no time in spinning back around and darting up to Friend Virgil’s legs, giving them her best pleading expression.

“See? We can all be friends, you’re big-nice and nobody will be mean to you! Please please please?”

—

Virgil was not good with kids.

Specifically, he wasn’t good at saying no to kids.

Back home, they’d always picked up on it the moment they saw him, like sharks catching the scent of blood in the water, except the sharks were twelve year olds and the blood was Virgil’s inability to tell them not to draw on him in sharpie.

He’d finally found something that humans and aliens had in common, it seemed, because Marren– the apparent leader of the little group– had immediately figured out exactly how to use the Ampen version of puppy dog eyes against him. It was like nature had designed them as adorable feathery pom-pom creatures as a tactic designed to target him, specifically.

He hadn’t stood a chance.

As such, he found himself seated in the middle of the small clearing, his hood lowered and face exposed for anyone to see, being used as an actual, literal human jungle gym by a bunch of chirping alien fuzzballs.

The playtime racket must have been attracting more, because it felt like every time he looked up, three or four entirely new bundles of fluff had appeared, racing around his feet or climbing up the side of his cloak, chattering between themselves in strings of tweets and whistles.

The namecall they used for him wasn’t quite accurate, sounding more like ‘frrr-kul’ with a rolling trill followed by a chirp that only occasionally resembled the latter half of his name. They seemed to have a much harder time than Patton making the non-bird sort of syllables, which made sense, seeing as they were itty bitty babies.

“Frrrr-kul!” one of them called gleefully, summoning him over to the other side of the clearing for the newest round of whatever it was they were playing.

Virgil wasn’t ashamed to admit that something in his chest squeezed a bit as another fledgling turned dizzying little loop-de-loops in front of him, presumably leading him over to the new spot. For once, the heart palpitations he was experiencing around strange aliens were almost entirely cuteness-induced.

Almost, because there was still a solid chunk of his brain panicking viciously about how tiny and soft and fragile they all were, hence him moving at the pace of a seasick slug.

Marren had put forward a half-hearted complaint about how slow he was moving, to no avail. As it turned out, the only thing more compelling to him than a kid’s heartfelt request was the fear of accidentally hurting one of them.

It had taken him at least fifteen minutes just to stop flinching every time one of them fell or flung themself off of his knee or shoulder or— for one very stealthy candidate— his head, only to tumble lightly back to the ground unharmed, the impact entirely cushioned by their fluff.

He’d caught the first five or six on sheer instinct, which had only prompted even more to partake in the fun new ‘game’, until he gave up and accepted his fate as a living launch pad. Thankfully for his stress levels and long-term heart health, they had moved onto another game quickly enough.

He was slightly less thankful that every game so far had included him being scampered over, without exception, but he should have figured as much just from being friends with Patton, honestly.

His latest role seemed to be a very ill patient, as one of Marren’s friends walked around—and on— him carefully, calling out chirped instructions and sending the rest of the participants scrambling into the nearby brush. Within a few moments, they’d return with leaves, twigs, and other forest detritus, which would then be painstakingly applied to the top of his hand, or his chin, or wherever else the ‘doctor’ gestured to. Half the time, the makeshift bandages would flutter off the moment Virgil shifted even a little, prompting chitters of delight as the kids hurried to re-apply them.

Still better than any healthcare he’d gotten on Earth, honestly.

Seeing as his current job was to lay in place morosely like that guy from the Operation board game, he eventually closed his eyes and let himself relax a little, trying to hide an irrepressible closed-lip smile.

A few rounds later, he heard a chorus of what sounded like Patton’s favorite greeting chirp, but in a range of much higher pitches. He cracked his eyes open, expecting another gaggle of fledglings had showed up, and instead found that Logan was standing at the edge of the clearing, arms all dropped limply to his sides in shock.

Virgil went tense, only managing to repress his flinch because a good portion of his brain was still dedicated to monitoring where all the babies were around him, and currently at least ten were clinging onto his person. “Okay, listen. This was not my idea.”

Logan carefully tucked his hands behind his back in what Virgil first mistook for a polite gesture, only to emerge with what was unmistakably the portable camera he used whenever he was collecting video data for later.

“...Really?”

Whirr-click. Logan didn’t even bother looking apologetic as he began recording Virgil’s pint-sized tormentors. “If Patton didn’t get a memento of this, he would never forgive me, facetiously speaking.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil slowly shifted up to his elbows, a startling amount of leaves fluttering down from his hair. A tentative hand feeling around in his hair revealed a fluffy stowaway, who peeped in displeasure as Virgil carefully disentangled them.

Talk about having a bird’s nest for hair. That was probably a sign that he needed a trim, but for now he could only laugh to himself, using two fingers to try and soothe the ruffled feathers of the fledgling that had apparently seen his head as prime real estate.

“You’re… very good with them,” Logan commented, shuffling closer with uncharacteristic tentativeness. “Is it normal to take on a parental role for children that aren’t under your care on Earth?”

Virgil snorted, and then leaned forward a little to help keep one of the more tenacious fledglings clinging to him from losing their grip. “It depends on the person, but honestly? A lot of humans are total suckers for anything cute making baby sounds, human or not. Sometimes to the point that the keener wildlife will take advantage of it and lead us to babies that are injured or out of reach because they know that odds are, a human will help.”

“Truly? Non-domesticated species, as well?” Logan replied, visibly distracted from his slow approach by the implications. “Cooperative dynamics between sapient species and local fauna are present on many planets, but for almost all studied Deathworlds, such a thing is unheard of. The risk is higher in harsher environments, where a much more competitive nature is required for survival.”

“Yeah, for real. I used to work as an assistant… uh. An assistant animal-healer, and people were always bringing in abandoned babies they’d found. Sometimes they were actually in need of help, but sometimes they definitely weren’t,” Virgil huffed a little at the memories, holding still as a fledgling took a running leap to jump from one of his knees to the other. “It was well-intentioned, though. Lots of people hate to see a baby left alone and jump to conclusions, since you’d never do that with a human infant.”

Logan’s hands twitched, and Virgil carefully shrugged one shoulder, giving him permission to record the information.

“Just make sure you don’t write stuff about babies or kids down where anyone could get to it,” he cautioned, chewing on the edge of his lip. “I trust you, but I don’t trust, y’know… the rest of space. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Correct,” Logan confirmed, having heard that exact catchphrase from Virgil probably about twelve times a week. “Am I alright to approach?”

“What?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course, just be careful. I mean, you’re definitely safer for them to be around than me.”

There was a relieved angle to Logan’s ears as he stepped forward, nimbly avoiding a few of the fledglings chasing each other back and forth like feathered tumbleweeds. “I disagree. They seem quite safe in your hands,” he said. “I have no doubt that Patton would be ecstatic to know that you’ve managed to make some friends amongst his kin despite our need for secrecy.”

Right. His cover had been blown five minutes in by the Ampen equivalent of a bunch of grade-schoolers. Crap.

“Let your mind remain at ease,” Logan added, either correctly reading the panic on his face or just guessing from the not-inconsiderable experience he had with Virgil. “With Ampens this young, I’m certain that your positive impression as a playmate will be the bulk of what they mention to their families. I’ve already heard a few of them refer to you as ‘Patton’s shy friend,’ so I imagine most will come up with the rest of the answer on their own assumptions.”

"'Patton's shy friend'?" Virgil felt his ears redden as his face heated up, and there was a chorus of delighted whistle-squeals from the nearest fledglings.

“You change colors just like Uptel Patton!” Marren shouted excitedly, and, well.

There were at least four different species of alien he knew of that shifted colors in all sorts of ways, from a gradual chameleon shift to the rapid flush of an octopus. This was one trait that wasn’t likely to make anyone think ‘Human’.

“Do another color!” A small harmony of encouraging peeps and eager gazes.

“Uh…,” Virgil cast a helpless look of his own Logan’s way. “I mean, I can probably do purple if I hold my breath for long enough?”

“Alright,” Logan cut in urgently,“I think it’s time that Virgil get back to the ship, actually, you’ll have to play with him again the next time we come to visit. Yes, yes, everyone off now…”

–

Miraculously, they’d managed to get through the entire impromptu visit without either of Patton’s flockmates seeing any errant belongings, broken cabinets, or any other indications of the highly illegal and infamous Deathworlder they definitely had onboard.

Roman let out an exhausted snort, trying not to shift impatiently as he stood by the boarding platform and waited for Logan to return with Virgil. If Patton was there, he would have given him a disappointed look for being so blatantly untrusting, but he wasn’t, and it had been a long day, so Roman could be on edge if he wanted to, okay?!

Thankfully, Logan chose that moment to step out from the shade of the forested area, exchanging an assessing look with Roman before deeming the path clear and beckoning Virgil to follow him on board.

The Human padded after Logan, footsteps eerily quiet as always, and… huh. He looked a lot less stressed than he’d seemed when they’d all but shoved him off the ship a few hours ago. Roman tried not to feel immensely suspicious about it, but he glanced down to check his hands for blood anyhow.

He was mostly sure that the Human didn’t actually have any murderous designs, especially not on anyone from Patton’s hometown, but they’d set him loose in a random forest with little to no guidance. Roman couldn’t rule out the idea that Virgil had entertained himself by hunting down some of the local fauna or something.

There was nothing, though, and so he forced his eyes away and checked in briefly with Logan instead. See? He could be cordial when he wanted to! He was a beacon of toleration, okay?

The claim fell a little flat even in his own mind, but he was promptly distracted by the tiniest hint of a whistle. He straightened up, alarm shooting through him as he swiveled his head this way and that, searching for any surprise witnesses.

His gaze fell on the Human as Virgil passed him to board the ship, and Roman stiffened at the sight of three fluffy bundles perched in the swoop of the Human’s hood. “Stop right there!”

Virgil went still, shoulders hunching upward like a bristle and eyes bizarrely wide, and Roman let his tail scrape from side to side for a moment as he glowered, only growing more certain of his guilt.

“I knew it, those are fledglings! Let them go this instant,” he started, planning to end with a suitable threat to ensure the safety of the smallest and most vulnerable of Patton’s kin, only for the Human to somehow go even more stiff and frozen.

“Oh my god, where?” He hunched over slightly, eyes flickering down to scan over his front and arms. “Are they okay?”

Roman pulled up short, admittedly disoriented at the show of clear and abrupt concern. One of the fledglings cheeped in dismay, and Virgil’s head tilted, following the sound.

“Guys, that’s not safe,” he groaned, and then repeated it in Ampen tongue. “Not safe. Not good, not safe, okay?”

His hand twitched up like he was going to reach for them, but then he hesitated for a moment, before slowly turning around so that his hood faced Roman. “Can you help them out? I know they’ve got all the feathers and stuff to keep them safe, but I still don’t want… I don’t want to jostle the hood and knock them out or something.”

“I… yes,” Roman said, feeling like he’d just been hit by a paralyzer shot. He reached out and scooped the fledglings out of their makeshift nest, watching as Virgil’s shoulders grew more and more taut. The Human didn’t trust him, but he held still anyways. “You’ve got, ah. Leaves and twigs. In your head pocket.”

“I bet I do,” he muttered, before taking a few slightly too-fast steps away once he’d checked that his fuzzy passengers had been evacuated. With soft, cautious movements, he patted down the rest of himself, including his other pockets and even the folds of his overcloak. “I think I’m good.”

“That was very dangerous,” Roman scolded, looking down at the trio with disapproval.

Virgil shuffled slightly, looking at him more directly than he usually did. After a moment, he spoke. “They’re fine, right? It’s not their fault, they just think it’s a game.They’re… they’re only babies.”

This was what worry looked like on a Human, Roman realized with a jolt, and managed to choke down his initial offense at the very idea that he would hurt them. He’d assumed the same at first glance, hadn’t he? Virgil had never seen him with kits before, and didn't know very much about him. Roman hadn’t exactly been sharing information or encouraging any bonding, and it wasn’t like the Mindscape had provided very many opportunities for interacting with younglings thus far.

Stars, he hoped there hadn’t been any kids on the smuggler ship. The very idea made him sick.

“Of course they’re fine,” he replied a bit shortly, cradling them a little closer. “Kits will be kits. They didn’t mean any harm, like you said.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good,” Virgil said, some of that odd tension falling away. He looked back down at the kids. “Uh. Bye, little guys. Stay safe.”

He mimicked a farewell trill with uncanny accuracy, and the fledglings all echoed it with varying levels of mournfulness. Virgil waved as he edged his way up the ship’s ramp backwards, like he thought the kids would ambush him the moment he took his eyes off of them.

Seeing as these three had somehow snuck past a Human’s senses, Roman almost couldn’t blame him.

“When I next see Patton, I’m going to tell him to have a serious talk with you all about being too adventurous, you hear me? Crewmates are not for climbing,” Roman lectured as he carried them back to the main path. He paused to think about how hypocritical that lesson would be coming from Patton, who took any excuse to perch on Virgil. “Oh, for stars’ sake.”

Well, whatever. This was just a one-off. What were the odds they would ever be bringing the Human back here, anyhow?

#wibar #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #sanders sides fic #space au #humans are deathworlders #wibar intermission #WIBAR INT 5 #my writing #writing #baby time

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mikanussy · 1 year

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coming back to ye old tumblr blog to shamelessly put up art for my fic that i abondened for 10 months BECAUSE IM NOT IN THIS FANDOM ANYMORE but i love janus too much so i started writing the fic and im sorry for drawing sanders sides again my bad apology video coming soon

anyways look how great they are very pretty good good good here's the link to the fic if u wanna read lmao, make sure to check out all the tags, it's just one big janus angst fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/32984812/chapters/81866470

#roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides art #sanders sides fic #lord help me

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nandysparadox · 6 months

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I live my life inside a dream

Only waking when i sleep

If I could sell my sorry soul

I would have it all

In the aftermath of the wedding, Roman, not wanting to face the others, finds himself in the imagination more often than not. But when a wish gone awry lands him stuck in a tower, it's up to the other sides to venture into his realm and face its dangers to find him.

Who else missed a classic imagination fantasy adventure fic? 😆 I've had this in my mind for a long time (almost two years!) and I have to say I'm quite excited to share it! If you've been intrigued by the premise or the book cover, good news! The first chapter comes out tomorrow (november 5th, if you see this at a later date, here's the link) - and if you want to be a part of the taglist, leave it in the tags or drop a comment :)

I promise, there's many cool things coming soon ;)

♡ reblogs are very appreciated ^_^ ♡

#sanders sides #tss #roman sanders #sanders sides fic #ts roman

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ascenari0 · 25 days

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just read the Roman x spaghetti fic..

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #sanders sides fic

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candied-peach · 3 months

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ao3: "i'm afraid we won't be leaving" rating: T warnings: prinxiety, remus shenanigans mentioned genre: fluff description: Roman's not been sleeping. Virgil has a fix for that. (for anonymous: "tss fluff prompts.... prinxiety and a nap?")

Roman's jaw cracks in a yawn as he covers his mouth with one ink-spattered hand. He's been struck with a burst of creativity the past few days, so he's been working extra hard for Thomas. A bundle of scripts lay untidily stacked on a corner of his desk, and he's steadily plowing through another. This is good. This is great! Sure, he hasn't really slept in three days, but he doesn't need it! Not when energy thrums through his veins, exhaustion be damned. He's been drinking and eating for the most part (Virgil keeps dragging him off to meals and replenishing his water bottle). All in all, he is doing fantastically and he's so proud of himself. What would Logan say if he could see Roman now? Buckling down and getting the work done?

"Ro," Virgil's voice intrudes. Roman's mouth turns down into a pout before he can stop himself. He loves his boyfriend. He really does. Virgil is incredible and Roman doesn't know how he managed to get so lucky as to have Virgil say yes.

But Virgil doesn't understand how important it is for him to keep going when he's in the groove like this! He needs to finish it! Anxiety plucks at his heart strings, sending little shocks of worry throughout his nervous system.

"Ro, you need to sleep," Virgil says, resting his chin on Roman's shoulder.

"I'm nearly done," Roman argues absently. Virgil eyes him, and Roman finds his face reddening.

"No, you aren't," Virgil says. "I can tell you're lying from a mile away, Princey. Are you trying to get Janus's attention?"

"No!" Roman sputters, still red-faced. "I'm just- I'm not at a good stopping point, Dark and Stormy, just let me-" He wheedles. Virgil raises a dubious eyebrow.

"I don't think so," Virgil says, tugging Roman's chair out from his desk and spinning him around. Roman squeaks, nearly dropping his pen.

"Virgil!" Roman exclaims.

"Roman!" Virgil echoes his intonation. "You need a nap, darling. Come on. Up you get." He tugs at Roman's wrists. "I promise, I will let you get back to it once you've had a nap."

"But what if I forget my thought process?" Roman asks, his eyebrows scrunching together in worry. "I need to get this done, I told Thomas and Logan I'd have this done by the end of the week-"

"Darling, it's Wednesday," Virgil calmly points out. "You still have a few days to get it done. You won't finish it if you collapse instead."

"You're supposed to be on my side," Roman playfully accuses. "What happened to Anxiety prodding Thomas to get his shit done?"

"I realized self care is also important, and you'll get nothing done if you don't sleep," Virgil retorts, deadpan. "I will give you one minute to write down some notes for what you want to do, and that's it."

Seizing his opportunity, Roman whirls his chair back around, grabbing a spare sheet of notebook paper and scribbling down as many thoughts as his crammed-full brain could spit at him. All too soon, the minute is up, and Virgil is plucking the pen out of his hands.

"Nap time," Virgil insists. Roman throws him a pleading look.

"Now darling-" Roman starts, but Virgil just leans forward and kisses his nose, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"You look exhausted," Virgil informs him. "Your bags have bags and are moving cross-country. You look like you're wearing my eyeshadow, babe. Come on."

"Fine," Roman grumpily acquiesces. Virgil helps him stand and fatigue weighs every limb down as he is suddenly accosted with exhaustion. He wobbles and Virgil steadies him with a sympathetic smile. His opulent red and gold-draped bed looks more welcoming by the second.

"Just a few more feet," Virgil encourages him softly.

"You'll nap with me, won't you?" Roman asks. Virgil nods immediately.

"Of course, Princey," Virgil says. A soft, sappy look spreads across Roman's face as he sits down on the edge of the bed and snaps himself and Virgil into their pajamas. He yawns again and Virgil pushes him back onto the bed, crawling in after him.

"Go to sleep, love," Virgil says. The soft sound of rushing water fills the room, as Roman nonverbally turns on his noise machine. He can't handle the quiet otherwise, and Virgil's soft breaths aren't enough white noise to help.

"Love you, stormcloud," Roman murmurs. His eyelids feel like they have five pound weights attached to them. Virgil kisses him, then peppers more kisses across his cheeks.

"Love you, too, Princey," Virgil says, his voice so thick with fondness, it makes Roman's heart swell. "Your work will still be there when you wake up. Promise."

Hearing that, Roman immediately snaps his fingers to turn on the Anti-Remus Wards, just in case, and Virgil laughs.

"Point taken," Virgil says. "Now it will still be there."

"I know my brother," Roman mumbles, already halfway to dream land. Virgil curls up tight against him, one arm draped over his middle, and Roman's breathing slows, evening out.

He sleeps for hours and when he wakes up, his door is streaked with green slime that seems to be smoking.

But his work is untouched.

#🍬.txt #sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman #virgil #sanders sides fic #ok to rb #peach writes #📚

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warcats-cat · 6 months

Text

Friends. Fellows. Countryfolk. Can we

Please

Go back to tagging for unsympathetic sides? Or even just side negativity? Please?

I'm so tired of going into a tag for a comfort character and seeing a bunch of negativity; and I don't mean like call-out posts. If your fic has unsympathetic sides PLEASE tag it!!!! There are people trying to filter that out because they don't want to see it, like any other squick or trigger!!!

Thank you 💜

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ashs-random-writing · 6 months

Text

House of oddities

Chapter 1

Ao3

—

Patton, a very optimistic borrower, traveled over a day’s journey that led him to this house. It was pretty far from other ones. It seemed normal enough, even if his new human was very loud, and liked to talk to themself. He didn’t mind. There was more than enough supplies here. Besides, he wasn’t too excited at the idea of making another long journey.

Two local ghosts start keeping a secret from their living friend.

—

Appearance wise, ghosts take on features that represent how they died. Janus died by a snake bite, and has snake scales over the side of the bite. Virgil, though I’m not telling you his cause of death just yet, has a whispy tail instead of legs.

I hope you enjoy this !!

Something was going on with his human, Patton noted. His human seemed more excited than usual, which normally would make Patton happy. However, as this was a new human, he wasn’t too sure what to expect.

Even the most optimistic borrower would be wary. It could be anything, from a vacation (bad for borrowers as it meant heavy rationing) or a ‘pay rise’ (great- human got more things that could be borrowed).

Of course, those weren’t the only options. As much as Patton loved the idea of pets, he knew that he would have to move if his human had gotten one. Well, depending on the pet. Dogs and cats, as cute as they were, were vicious creatures when faced with a borrower. That could also be an option.

He didn’t want to move only two weeks after finding the perfect walls. He sincerely hoped that whatever had caused his human to be so happy was something good.

He watched his human pace around giddily, like they had just won a giant prize. Perhaps they had. He couldn’t help but smile, despite his hesitation as to what could cause this infectious mood.

His human talked to themself a lot. Patton was sure he’d hear about the source of excitement eventually

He waited for his human to go to sleep before he gathered food supplies. It was routine borrowing for him, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy about something. The human was still sleeping, he could tell that much, so he didn’t know what was causing this unease

He had been feeling similarly since he’d moved in. It was a different kind of unease than when he was at his last house. That unease was feeling like he was going to be seen, this felt like being watched. Like any borrower would feel, Patton felt very off about this whole thing.

He had checked about a thousand times that there were no cameras, before he had ever even left the walls. He should never have been feeling eyes on him.

He shivered. He didn’t know whether it was the fact that he could still feel someone watching him, or the coldness that seemed to radiate from different parts of the house.

He put all his food in his bag, and started running towards his entrance. This house made him feel more exposed than other houses did. He didn’t understand.

His human was still sleeping, he checked after putting away his supplies. He chalked up this unease to the fact that this was still a new house.

There was nothing wrong. He smiled. He sometimes felt the eyes on him when he was in his home in the walls, which was how he knew he was imagining things. There was only him in the walls. There was nothing else.

No sign of any other life in there, not even a single web (thank whatever was out there that was looking out for him) or rats nests anywhere in the walls. The only living things in the house were him, and his human, and occasionally his human’s friends.

They were loud. Patton didn’t like loud noises, but he liked seeing people happy. He organised his supplies and made sure his nest had enough fabrics. Winter was closing in, he would need more.

The fabric was in his human’s bedroom. They were unlikely to wake up whilst he was borrowing. He quickly grabbed the scraps he needed and ran back to his home.

He was tired. He had borrowed a lot today; all that climbing was tiring. He wrapped up as warmly as he could and closed his eyes. The walls were cold, but he was used to it.

If he felt eyes on him as he fell asleep, he ignored them. He woke up to the sound of his human talking. His human was loud. He took a look at the clock outside the wall.

He’d only been sleeping for a few hours, which was probably why he felt so tired. He yawned, but he knew his human would keep being loud, so he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He didn’t mind. His human would go to work, and then Patton would have the quiet, empty house to himself.

He wished there was another borrower nearby. Maybe he wouldn’t be so tired if he could split responsibility between him and a friend. Maybe he’d be less likely to watch the human so constantly.

He took to wandering whilst he waited for his human to leave. Having been a borrower since birth, he was well aware of the challenges and limitations of his life.

He just wished he could live somewhere where he could control the heating and where he could talk to people. He was always optimistic, however.

He’d probably find enough fabric to make himself a warmer outfit and help make his nest a little warmer.

His human had a ton of scrap fabrics lying around

His human was talking to themself. They always acted as though there was someone else there, even when there wasn’t.

This wasn’t the only human who he’d seen do the same. Humans loved giving into their imaginations and talking to themselves. Patton had the urge sometimes, but there was obviously the chance of being discovered if he gave in to the impulse.

He didn’t dwell on the human’s actions, and just focused on keeping himself busy with walking to prevent himself from crying. He was so tired. His human was getting ready to leave. He walked back home.

The sound of a door made it known that he was able to sleep again now, even though the eyes on him came back as he got back home. He wrapped up as best as he could and settled back in his nest.

He smiled, though he felt watched.

He fell asleep for another few hours.

—

Virgil was used to being bored; he was a ghost, there wasn’t much opportunity for him to talk to anyone except the one other ghost of the house, Janus, but they weren’t on the best terms with each other. Not for the past year, anyway.

The past few months had introduced two new living people into his home; Roman, who for some inexplicable reason could see him and Janus, and the newest addition to the house; the tiny person.

They lived in the walls, and scavenged for food or supplies. Virgil watched them a lot. The things they did were dangerous, what would’ve been a mild fall for Virgil would be a fall from tens of feet high for them, and still they climbed it close to daily.

Virgil had never seen anyone like them before. He could tell that they were jumpy, and they didn’t like the idea of people knowing they existed. Virgil never mentioned their existence to the living of the house.

He knew that Janus knew they were there as well. He’d caught Janus watching them more than a few times, but, with as skilled as Virgil and Janus were at avoiding each other, one of them would quickly leave the room to go back to their own.

Perhaps a little bit of hissing between them as the other left, but that was private business. Roman had since stopped trying to make them friends.

Virgil floated around the house, waiting for Roman to wake up. The little guy was sleeping.

Virgil couldn’t feel the cold, but he noticed the shivering and the extra fabric the little guy had been taking. He needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up. Someone that small was bound the feel the cold a lot more than someone human-sized.

Virgil heard when Roman woke up, because, what seemed like immediately, he heard Janus talking to him.

He scowled. Janus just had to ruin everything, didn’t he? He crossed his arms. Did they have to be so loud? He checked on the tiny scavenger

They were sat up, rubbing their eyes with their clearly makeshift glasses still next to their little nest. He frowned, face still through the wall.

Poor thing. Everything must be louder to them. Virgil took his head out of the wall tunnels and started to wait for Janus and Roman to stop talking, so he could talk about his (undoubtedly more important) problem to the person who could help.

Janus talked to Roman the entire time, until the human had left the house. Virgil’s scowl deepened.

He flew over to Janus

“What if I had wanted to talk to him?”

“I’d have no way of knowing that, dearest friend, because you don’t ever talk to me,” he said, scales shifting with Janus’s grin

“Well, my thing was important, and you’ve ruined it,” he hissed out, starting to float away

“Aw, important, was it? Needed another song added to the playlist he made for you? Or, perhaps your little nightlights ran out of battery?” Janus’s mocking voice echoed in his ears, and hell if he wasn’t able to push all of Virgil’s buttons. He wanted to slap that mocking pout straight off of his face

“First of all, they’re fairy lights, not nightlights, but I suppose that, being the baby you are, you’ve probably only ever heard of a nightlight. Second, my thing was actually important. I needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up,”

Janus raised his eyebrow

“Oh, my. I didn’t know that you had suddenly developed an aversion to the cold, that, might I remind you, you can’t feel ,”

“It’s not for me, you-” he took a deep breath that was entirely useless, “It’s for the little guy in the walls and, not that I expect you to care, considering you care for nothing but yourself, but they’ve been shivering non stop lately,”

Janus’s face had a brief moment where the mask fell, before coming back, and he looked down at his nails, which were covered by his gloves

“It’s too bad that you’d never be able to convince Roman. You wouldn’t be able to convince someone that ghosts were real, even if they were looking right at you,”

Virgil glared, clenching his fist

“Well, you do it then, if you’re so good at being convincing,” he snarled out, only for Janus to smile

“Gladly, thank you kindly for the offer,”

Virgil left with clenched fists and the thought that if he could, he’d’ve slammed the door shut.

He hated Janus so bad, he might as well have been in Hell rather than his house.

He floated down to the basement, his room, the only room in the house that Janus could not follow. Janus had never seen the basement as part of the house, and therefore when he died, he was restricted from it.

When Virgil had lived there, he’d chosen the basement to be his bedroom, so, when he died, he was able to go through there and the rest of the house.

Virgil floated above his bed and listened to the playlist that was constantly on loop in his room. He would actually need more songs on it, but he would never admit that in front of Janus.

He scowled, thinking about the snake of a ghost that occupied the upper house. Virgil wished he could kill him a second time.

It was hours later that Roman got home, and once again Janus whisked him away in conversation before Virgil could even greet him

Luckily, however, Janus seemed to be proposing that the heating be turned up. Virgil admitted reluctantly that Janus’ ability to convince people of things was impressive, no matter how much he hated it.

He left his room once he heard Janus and Roman finish their conversation

“Do you have to talk to him so much?” He asked, a sneer on his face

Roman didn’t even look at him before responding

“We’ve gone through this, Virgil. I am friends with both you and Janus. I can’t just not have conversations with one of you to please the other”

Virgil crossed his arms

“Alright, fine. How was your rehearsal?”

Roman went into a long rant about how they’d obviously chosen the lead correctly, as it was him, but that one of his cast mates had been making snide remarks all day, which obviously couldn’t happen

“Alright, I get it, you’re dramatic,” he rolled his eyes

Roman turned to stare at him

“And you’re not? Last week you told me you were going to stay in the basement forever so you would never have to see Janus again!”

Virgil looked away and muttered that he was not being dramatic and never having to see Janus again was the kind of happiness that required no extra dramatics.

“Yeah, okay, so why did you come back up, if you weren’t being over-dramatic when you said that?”

Virgil left the room, totally not dramatically, and checked on the little guy. They were organising things, probably supplies.

They didn’t look as tired anymore. Virgil went back down to his room. He obviously couldn’t let Roman know about the little guy.

Roman was… very excitable. The little guy seemed very skittish, and they seemed to avoid loud noises. It would be best to keep Roman in the dark about this.

—

@a-chilly-pepper @da3dm @betamash

#sanders sides gt #sanders sides fic #sanders sides story #sanders sides g/t #giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #sanders sides au #sanders sides #sanders side fic #ghosts

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virgil-my-emo-son · 18 days

Text

Accepted.

Dukeceit Week 2024 Day 1, Sunflowers!

Dukeceit Week 2024 is run by the amazing @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper ! I am really hoping I can stay on track and do the rest of the days but I make no promises lol. Starting off strong with day one though!

This fic is just like pure angst! But it does have a happy or at least hopeful ending, so there's that.

I've never actually written Dukeceit so their dynamic is much more like their dynamic in Grim's The Mysterious Disappearance of Roman Grimm (One of if not my favorite Sanders Sides fics ever) than their canon dynamic but I hope you all enjoy anyway!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55012822/chapters/139463146

The drive was long and winding and dark, the trees only visible in glimpses Remus caught from the Subaru’s high beams. The only sign of life on the West Virginia highway was the occasional headlights of a car going the other way, but those were few and far between. Remus wasn’t surprised, it was 5:37 AM.

They’d left around 4, once Remus’s breakdown had been dealt with.

“Where are we going, Jan?” Remus tried.

Janus didn’t make any indication he’d heard him, eyes looking straight through the windshield, hands holding the steering wheel steady at ten and two. His hands were, as usual, gloved, but Remus had a feeling if he’d been able to see his knuckles, they would’ve been white.

“Janus, you can’t keep ignoring me forever.” He sighed, letting his head fall against the headrest. “You’re the one who wanted to go on this crazy drive, anyway.”

“Remus… we’ll be there soon.” Janus’s voice was tight, almost strangled.

“Okay.”

“Give me twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” It came out as a whisper.

The dense forest soon gave way to thinner trees, then to flat farmland. Remus’s face went to his window to watch the soybeans and the slightly lightening sky.

Pretty soon, Remus heard the clicking of the turn signal, and Janus turned into one of the farms. Remus caught a glimpse of what looked like sunflowers before Janus slowly pulled into a worn wood barn and turned the key, cutting the engine. He tucked one leg beneath him and turned so he was facing Remus.

Janus smiled. “Tired?”

Remus knew his eyes were drooping. “Yeah.”

Just as quickly, the smile slipped from Janus’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where we were going.”

“Where did we go?” Remus looked around. “We’re just in a random barn. Looks very splintery.” He grinned, trying to lighten the tension. “Might get some sort of wood-borne illness.”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “I’m not even sure those exist.”

“You never know.”

Janus moved on. “We’re not here for the barn. I’m… this is my grandfather’s farm.”

“I thought your grandpa was dead.”

“He is.” Janus said flatly. “It’s my farm now.”

“Your farm?”

“Yes, he left it to me.”

“You’ve never mentioned a farm before.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know about it.”

Remus considered for a moment. “So, this is where you’ve been going on weekends?”

Janus nodded. “My uncle looks after the place most of the time. He gets all the proceeds from the produce.” He shrugged. “I’m really just the name on the deed.”

“Mm.” Remus hummed. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted you to see the flowers at sunrise.”

“The sunflowers I just saw?”

Janus nodded again, holding out a hand to Remus. He looked at it for a moment, reached out, and squeezed it, as was their custom.

“Lets’ go.” Janus reached for his door.

Remus did the same, hopping out of the car and circling around to the other side. They walked out of the barn, Remus trailing a few feet behind Janus as he glanced around, unable to see much in the dark.

He kept following him as they walked to the sunflower field.

“Huh. I thought you closed at night.” Remus remarked to one of the yellow blooms they walked past.

“I did too, until I started helping out at the farm.” Janus led them to a small opening between a few flowers, carefully pushing one aside and ducking between them.

“How long have you been coming here?”

Janus shrugged. “A long time.”

Remus could tell when he didn’t want to talk, so he stayed quiet as they walked the narrow path between the sunflowers.

Janus abruptly stopped, and Remus almost bumped into him. “Jeez, Jan, give a guy some warning.”

“My apologies.” Janus looked over his shoulder briefly.

“Accepted.” Remus mumbled.

“Look.” Janus nodded towards the East, where the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon, painting the yellow petals in shades of red and orange.

“Wow.” Remus said softly, but he turned his face back to Janus. He felt like a sunflower himself, turning towards the brightest thing he could see.

As if he could feel his eyes, Janus turned to look at Remus, his eyes softening. “I just wanted you to see this. I made this path, a long time ago. I like watching sunrises, I always have. I figured it might calm you down.” He swallowed. “Remus… we don’t have to talk about earlier, not if you don’t want to.”

Remus closed his eyes. Did he want to talk about it?

“I don’t need you!” He snarled.

Don’t you see I need you?” Janus threw his hands up.

I don’t deserve you! Even a little bit! I don’t deserve to have you… I don’t deserve you! I don’t need you!”

He opened his eyes. “I do want to talk about it.”

Janus’s eyes flicked down to the soil, then up again to Remus. “We deserve each other, Remus. We’ve both done things we’re not proud of. You know that.”

Remus nodded.

Janus continued. “I… love you, Remus. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either… I just don’t want to… hurt you.”

“You only hurt me when you tell me you want to break up with me because you don’t want to hurt me.”

Remus suddenly couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Janus nodded. “Accepted.”

#remus sanders #janus sanders #dukeceit #dukeceitweek2024 #dukeceit week 2024 #dukeceit fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic

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dotemakesthings · 9 months

Text

forgotten but not gone

(please be gentle, y’all, this is the first public fic I’ve posted since basically… ever)

inspired by/remix of the cursed light by datfearlessfangirl

okay, so.

the first Split was relatively harmless, believe it or not. it separated out Remus and Roman, sure, but the sides all still lived together and cared about each other.

as a teen/young adult, the sides were in cutesy little pairs.

Janus and Roman, the theater gays.

Virgil and Logan, the couple that considers sitting silently in a room together with headphones on a romantic activity.

and Remus and Patton, the chaotic powerhouses who love nothing more than making messes in the kitchen and screaming I-love-you’s from across the house.

but then

the second split.

it was a crisis of morality and identity on Thomas’s part

so intense that it ripped the mindscape in two

the “acceptable” sides simply got their memories wiped, starting from scratch

while the dark sides were locked away and hurt.

now, neither side knew about the others and the effect it had on them

so when the light sides saw a closet oozing with Bad Feelings, they felt it best to investigate for the good of Thomas

and they were greeted with monsters.

Remus, screaming out horrific imagery and banging his head raw and bloody against the wall

Virgil, spiraling into such a bad panic attack that the shadows around him were lashing out without him realizing

and Janus, fangs and all six arms out, who uncontrollably lied about how they were useless here, how they weren’t wanted, they needed to get out, ssssstupid little sides

the lights screamed

and ran out

the darks chased them

because, here’s the thing

imagine you have known someone all your life. you know their tics, what makes them happy

and you’re not afraid of what they’re like when they’re in distress, because you know what to expect. and you know you’re safe with them.

now. imagine meeting someone for the first time on your absolute worst day.

that’s what happened to the darks.

the Patton of before would have rushed to Remus, gently guiding him away from the wall and crooning soothing nonsense to drown out his babble about death and gore and being alone alone alone

the Roman of before would have nodded and taken none of what Janus was saying at face value, cradling Janus’s hands in his own and humming a quiet tune

and the Logan of before would have tapped out a slow, calm rhythm next to Virgil until he could breathe and handle touch again

but they didn’t know any of that anymore.

all they saw were monsters.

and all the dark sides saw were their friends, family, lovers there when they needed help.

the light sides fled back to the upper mindscape

and the darks slammed into the barrier

screaming and clawing at the invisible wall

for someone to help

for their family to look at them

for someone to explain what was going on

and the light sides closed and locked the door with a sigh of shaky relief.

now, the light sides develop something of an ingrained bad reaction to the darks due to this colossally bad first impression.

Patton: disgust, fear, thin veneer of trying to be polite while getting them to leave the vicinity as soon as possible

Logan: coldness, indifference. not cruelty but no warmth or allowances

Roman: fear masked by anger and intense protectiveness.

and the dark sides all deal with the upheaval, betrayal, and pain in different ways.

Virgil: depressed, afraid, tends to lash out at the slightest provocation. goes from snarky to mean.

Janus: gives up and pretends everything is fine. sees no point in hurting himself to get something back that can't be replaced or repaired. covers heartbreak with snark. can't quite stop himself from flirting with Roman but pretends it's just manipulation. focuses just on Thomas and what's best for him, ignoring all else.

Remus: wears his rotting heart on his sleeve. tries the hardest to get Patton back and is the least equipped to do so. isn't exactly trying to keep the others' spirits up, but more just doesn't lose hope that they can somehow fix this.

the dark sides can only come to the main mindscape at all at night at first.

the barrier stops them any other time

it’s Remus who finds out first, mindlessly banging his head against the barrier to pass the time only to fall flat on his face when it fizzles out

and they all slowly start sneaking in at night to see the home that they were thrown out of

and slowly, the lights start having odd little incidents

nothing in person, at first.

Roman: he finds something in progress and abandoned at the border between the imagination halves that he and Remus both worked on. he can't figure out why it looks so recent even though he can’t remember ever getting along with his brother this well.

Patton: he's having a Sad Night. he thinks he's hiding it well, but someone (Virgil) notices and leaves him cookies that are one of his favorites. not a secret recipe, just ones he likes. there's a little note saying that sometimes it's okay to have a second cookie. Patton can't figure out who would know him this well.

Logan: he’s dealing with an absolute menace of a meeting. he gets back to his room, seething all the way, to see a plain porcelain plate with an unsigned note saying “break me all you want, nerd! I’ll put myself back together!”. he experimentally drops it from a few feet up. it shatters with a very satisfying crack and then, a few seconds later, reassembles itself in his hand. he has a grand old time shattering the plate against the wall again and again until his rage has subsided to a manageable level. he can’t figure out who would come up with an idea like this.

and then there start being little middle-of-the-night interactions. because for some reason, the light sides have a much harder time falling asleep nowadays.

Virgil looks over Roman’s shoulder as he watches a Disney movie in the living room at three AM to try and fall asleep. Anxiety offers a teasing insult to the protagonist. Roman jumps out of his skin, at first threatening to stab him, but then lets him tentatively settle in on the counter behind him. they roast the movie together, gradually picking up steam until Roman actually laughs at something Anxiety says. they both freeze and stare at each other for a heartbeat until Roman sinks out without a word.

Patton finds himself tucked into bed after a too-long day sorting through Thomas' emotional responses. when he wakes up, there's a somehow still steaming cup of sweet herbal tea that tastes like a snickerdoodle. he vaguely remembers a soft voice hissing at him that he needs to pay more attention to his own needs.

Logan is reading philosophy textbooks and muttering to himself out loud. Janus offers a quiet critique. they have a heartbeat of wonderful discussion before Logan "remembers" himself and shuts it down.

eventually, through all this, their memories start coming back. it’s triggered slowly through their platonic interactions with their friends, and then all at once by their romantic partners.

(because the love of friends is just as impactful and important as the love of a partner)

Patton:

Patton is sad and frustrated, muttering to himself and pacing in the kitchen.

someone walks in and he immediately stops and snaps into happy pappy Patton mode. “Oh hey, kiddo-“

it's Remus, who just cocks his head and says "you know you don't have to do that with me, right?"

and after some protesting on Morality’s part

he ends up goading Patton into a very cathartic expression of anger, fear, and frustration, and helps him sort it out.

at some point, Remus has shifted to holding Patton in a loose embrace as Patton waves his hands and rants and sobs.

Patton doesn’t realize that he burrows deeper into Remus’ arms every time he wiggles.

to the point that he’s turned sideways in Remus’ lap, with one arm curled around him and the other one free to gesture.

and then when it’s all over, they’re talked out, and it’s almost sunrise, Remus reluctantly starts to tear himself away.

and Patton, who quite suddenly cannot bear the thought of Remus letting him go, holds on

Logan:

panic attacks? Logan? certainly not. he doesn’t get those.

so when he finds himself gasping for air, feeling like his chest is on fire, and locked into his worst thoughts, he doesn’t know what to do

because he knows how to treat panic attacks

but this isn’t one. definitely

and even if it was, for some reason all his knowledge on how to treat them is slipping from his mind no matter how hard he tries to reach from it

you have to breathe? somehow? but he can’t breathe, can’t think

and somehow through it, he hears a raspy voice

counting steadily and quietly

and he realizes that there’s a stim toy placed in his hands that he’s wringing.

and it looks familiar, but he knows he’s never seen it before

and there’s soft, flowy music playing from a Bluetooth speaker next to him

and that feels familiar too

and without quite knowing why, only having a bone-deep certainty that it’ll help, he slumps over into the person sitting next to him

smells lavender and laundry detergent

feels soft fabric under his cheek

and suddenly everything snaps into place

of course

why does he feel so safe? because he’s with the safest person in the world.

Roman:

okay so

Roman alternates between being scared of Deceit and feeling extremely attracted to him

this, naturally, freaks Roman out

and he expresses this by getting more and more aggressive towards Janus

at some point, he panics and attacks Deceit

Deceit freezes with Roman’s sword to his throat. they stare at each other

before Janus sinks out

a day or so later, he comes back

all six hands up, ungloved, and open to show that he means no harm

“You win.”

“… What?” says Roman.

“You. Win. I’m tired of fighting you. Grant me one last request and you’ll never have to see me again.”

some buried part of Roman is conflicted. but his conscious self jumps at the opportunity. “What do you want, snake?”

“Dance with me.”

“… What.”

“Grant me the honor of one dance, my prince, and I’ll leave. You’ll never have to deal with my presence again.”

And Roman, wary of some trap but eager to be rid of the beautiful confusing disgusting snake, agrees.

They rise up in an elegantly decorated ballroom

dressed in a fancy suit (Roman) and an elegant ballgown (Deceit)

and they dance

at first, stilted and formal

keeping to the steps and no more

but then Janus seems to come to some internal conclusion

and folds himself in close to Roman

before spinning outwards, skirt swirling, and coming back in

and somehow, without Roman quite knowing why, they’re dancing.

flourishes, leaning into each other, Roman even lifting Deceit into the air at one point

and his heart keeps pinging strangely

aching

(familiar, this is familiar, you’ve done this before)

but eventually, the dance has to end

and they both come to a stop as the song finishes, panting heavily

Janus is smiling through his heavy breaths

and Roman finds he is too

but Janus’ smile cracks and falls and he steps back.

“Well,” he says. “That was the deal.”

and he lifts Roman’s hand, which somehow has his sword in it although it didn’t a second before, so that the blade is at his throat

just like the night before

“One quick cut ought to do it.”

Self Preservation exposes his throat to his beloved.

because he doesn't want to hurt Roman.

because this dance was his last selfish act before he gives up

one last moment to remember his prince by

and Roman pauses with his sword at Janus’ throat.

because Roman can't figure out why Janus, the evil self serving snake, wouldn't take an opportunity to hurt him to save himself

why he asked for this dance at all

why his arms around him felt like home

and all of a sudden

the memories he’s been denying all this time hit him like a truck

and he remembers

(after all that, Roman congratulates Janus on his idea to bring his memories back by dancing together)

(Janus smiles at him and changes the subject)

the barrier weakens the more that the lights feel comfortable around the darks.

the more that Thomas feels comfortable around them.

by the time everyone’s memory is back, it’s like it was never there at all.

#sanders sides #analogical #roceit #intruality #dote writes things #moduke #sanders sides fic #tss fanfic #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders

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prodigal-explorer · 5 months

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my dearest little prince (i)

(roman sanders hurt/comfort, cw for extreme self deprecation and janus dropping truth. features sympathetic janus!)

“My dearest little prince…what’s happened to you?”

Roman’s hollow eyes, darkened from sleep deprivation, were squeezed shut, tears spilling out the sides and down his cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to know. Not even Janus’ tender, lulling voice could pull him out of this panic.

“Baby, come here. Please. Let me help you. Let me hold you.”

Janus’ words were practically hypnotic to the tired, desperate young prince. Roman was so tired of being used, so tired of being an object. All he wanted was to be loved, just like everyone else, but it seemed that no matter what he did, no matter what positions he bent himself into, he could never change himself enough. He was still too Roman. Maybe his actions weren’t the problem, after all. Maybe Roman himself was to blame. Everything about him, after all, was wrong, no matter what he did and how he did it. Roman could feel his mind turn to fuzz, Janus’ words and form growing farther and farther away as he enveloped himself in a meager attempt at self-protection. After all, Roman had long learned that he couldn’t trust anybody else to protect him from anything.

This had to be a trap. It just had to be.

“When was the last time you ate?” Janus whispered, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. The prince flinched back, but Janus persisted, too anxious to be sensitive. “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. You’ve always been so fragile. And lately, it feels like you’ve just been floating away.”

“Yeah?” Roman whispered, his voice seething with hurt. “I wonder why.”

Janus blinked, and tilted his head, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, darling?” he asked gently.

“Maybe I should float away,” Roman mumbled thickly as his tears started to suffocate him. “You all would like it so much better if I was gone. You play tricks on me to make me shut up or look stupid, you use me for your own agendas without even caring about mine, and then you betray me when all I ever wanted to do was help my friends! I wanted to be a prince, I wanted to be honorable and chivalrous, but- but what’s the point if it always ends with me alone? I’m the least favorite side, Janus. The least favorite. The least amount of fans like me, and the most amount of fans hate me.”

“That’s-…that’s not fair, Roman,” Janus whispered, but Roman interjected before Janus could continue.

“Maybe it is fair,” he snapped, “Someone has to be. Maybe it should be me. After all, I am the evil twin. No matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try, people only care about the bad stuff I did, and none of the good stuff I’m doing. What’s the point of trying anymore? What’s the point of anything?”

Roman tried to keep ranting, but a whimper cut him off, and as he realized the weight of everything he was saying, he started to sob. He felt like he was being crushed under the weight of the situation. Never in his entire life had the little prince felt so helpless.

Janus took the opportunity to talk. He tried to hide his anger, not towards Roman, but towards everyone and everything that caused Roman to believe such terrible things were actually true. Himself included.

“My precious little one,” Janus murmured, carefully pulling Roman’s limp and trembling limbs into a hug. “You are not evil. Evil people don’t worry about whether or not they’re evil. Evil people don’t cry as you do now. You are so, so good, my darling. And I’m sorry that nobody has told you that. I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone for so long. You try harder than anybody I know. You are so ready to learn and change that sometimes I worry that you’ll lose yourself one day and never find it again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Roman muttered to Janus’ chest.

“Of course it would!” Janus scolded gently, starting to rhythmically pet Roman’s curly hair and support his delicate form. “Roman, you are so special. You’re so…beautiful. I’ve never met anybody else who sees the world the way you do, with such wonder. With such color. You sing when no audience is around to applaud you. You speak to things that can’t speak back. You care so much about everything. You care more than anybody I’ve ever met.”

There was silence and stillness in the room for a very long time, not a sound except for occasional sniffling from Roman. And then, the creative side fully launched himself into Janus’ arms, letting his sorrow carry him as he melted into Janus’ secure, but gentle hold, sobbing into his shoulder and letting Janus support his weight, trusting him to keep him upright.

“My baby…my sweet baby,” Janus whispered, “You’ve been hurting for a long time, haven’t you?”

Roman couldn’t speak. He couldn’t act, he couldn’t ask for more than this. For so long, he had been trying to act more mature, so he could be taken more seriously. But it felt so good to just cry, and be a child again, even if just for a moment. Janus seemed to innately know that Roman needed this. Maybe Janus cared more than Roman thought.

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delimeful · 3 months

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let my mind reset (6)

warnings: angst, brainwashing, torture, psychological conditioning, references to injury/gore/death, harmful surgical implants, they are really going through it now, lmk if i missed any

Where the hours had passed slowly before, now they seemed to slip by all too fast. Every spare moment Roman had was spent in anxious anticipation of the next session and all that came with it.

He had never seen something like the haze used on a person before. Crav’n were invulnerable to it, and he’d only ever witnessed his aunt use it briefly on one of the local fauna once, a harmless and finicky tree-dwelling species about the size of his hand.

(Roman remembered the way Marta had compelled the little creature to pace back and forth, from place to place, wearing its will away until there wasn’t any hesitation between order and action. Then, she’d sent it walking into the nearby pond.

He remembered the way its survival instinct had set in late, the way it began to thrash, and still Marta didn’t call it back. He remembered feeling relieved when his mother stepped in and put a stop to the demonstration, scooping the poor beast from its fate with disapproval etched firmly in the set of her shoulders.

He didn’t remember if the creature had lived through the withdrawal, afterwards.)

Virgil was far from a simple animal, though, and despite Roman’s half-formed nightmares, he didn’t mindlessly succumb to the influence of the drug the first time it was forced on him, nor the second or the third.

In fact, every time the other Humans entered his cell with that unsettling green canister, he seemed just as panicked as Roman, if not more, putting up as much of a fight as he could with a battered body and a wrung out mind. No matter how they tutted or scolded, the other Humans still couldn’t get the mask on him until Roux had him forcibly subdued, which was a tiny victory in itself.

That didn’t stop the drug from taking its toll each and every time.

As horrible as it sounded, the worst part was that the effects weren't painful or malicious in nature. At least that would have been easier to fight against; a logical, instinctive response to being hurt.

No, it was far more insidious than that. The haze dulled pain. First, the physical: it eased away the stiffness of sore muscles and the burning of shocked nerves, leaving only a pleasant numbness behind. Then, the mental: it stalled the production of stressful chemical compounds, replacing them with whatever was needed to trick the victim’s mind into believing they were happy, relaxed, pliable.

Roman had never seen Virgil so unwound, so carefree, and he hated how unnatural the behavior seemed on the Human. It was a miserable experience, finally seeing him without the hunted slant to his posture, and feeling sickened by the sight.

What was worse was watching it wear off.

As though a switch had been thrown in reverse, Virgil would be plagued by a creeping, unrelenting sense of panic and dread, pacing around his cell frantically until a sudden hypersensitivity to touch left him crumpled in one spot, breathing harsh and pained.

Time after time, he was shown exactly how painful withdrawal from even a few doses was, until he was left bracing for it well before the next session had even begun.

“The last guys who had me would have killed for something like this,” Virgil said, nearly panting as he laid out on his back. He had his fingers pressed against his neck, feeling his pulse. His heart was racing so hard that Roman could see the veins pulsing eerily under the skin. A heavy spike of adrenaline, unprompted by anything tangible. “Bet she has at least a few people stashed away just to drain for easy cash.”

He spoke more, like this. Out of turn, about topics that were morbid and pessimistic, as though the thoughts were tumbling free of his mind without his permission. Roman never let his negative reactions to the more grim topics go beyond his ears flickering back; it wasn’t like he had the room or right to judge. They didn’t have very many reasons to be optimistic. Besides, he’d realized early on that the more worked up Roman got, the worse Virgil got in turn.

He still didn’t know the exact details of how Dren harvesting worked, and he was fairly sure he was better off for it. The very idea of setting an entire person aside for something like that was reprehensible, and therefore entirely possible for Marta.

“She said she… she gets rid of Humans that don’t break,” he replied after a moment, the words tumbling freely from him for once. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to turn a profit from it.”

He’d been trying to match the distant, dry tone Virgil had used, but he must have missed the mark, because the Human stiffened, and drew his hand back from Roman’s grasp to press it harshly against his eyes.

Belatedly, Roman realized what he’d just implied. Virgil was one of those Humans trying not to break, was at this very moment barely clinging to his composure, and he’d just been informed he was stuck between two horrific fates worse than death. “I didn’t mean—,”

“‘S alright,” Virgil interrupted, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s not like I didn’t know. It makes me feel a little better, honestly.”

Roman stared at him, bewildered and still slightly aghast at his own stupidity, and Virgil shifted a few fingers to peer back with one eye.

“At least some Humans didn’t fall for it, y’know? At least some of them got out in their own way,” he continued, a thin thread of hopelessness tangled up in the words. “I was starting to wonder if the rest of space was right. If we were all just destined to be monsters with the right motivation.”

Roman should have been more alarmed at the implication that Virgil felt close to succumbing, that he was nearer than he’d ever wanted to be to a Human on the brink of falling under someone else’s blatantly malignant control, but all he could feel was a painful sympathy.

“You’re not a monster,” he said, and then, more firmly— “Humans aren’t monsters.”

Virgil’s eye widened slightly, gaze intent in a way that would have made Roman bristle in the past.

“They’re just people. They can do good or bad, just like anyone else. And sure, these guys are— they’re not doing good.” A pause, and Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s stare. “But you have. You saved Patton, and you tried to save me, and you’re— you’re not a monster. You’re a good friend.”

Virgil buried his face back in his elbow and was quiet for a long moment.

“…You’re not so bad yourself.”

—

Roman hadn’t expected Marta to show up in person, not with how much she had delegated to her brainwashed underlings thus far, but arrive she did.

“Don’t fret, ghiva’al,” she crooned to him, passing by his cell with the lightest clink of her claws dragged against the bars. “I’m here to meet your little pet, not you.”

“Don’t—,” call me that, call him that, he wanted to snarl, but his throat closed up so sharply that it sounded a little like he’d choked.

Marta made her stilted croaking laugh, sparing him a glance that might have been pitying if it had bothered to reach her cold, empty eyes. “You always did struggle with words when emotional, didn’t you? Not nearly as well spoken as your mother. What a shame to see that hasn’t changed.”

There was a sharp clacking as an aggressive shudder ran through Roman’s scales, but he still couldn’t find his voice. Not even when Marta moved on to grip the bars of Virgil’s cell, her attention shifting to the Human where he stood warily in the center of the cage.

Roman had learned more than he’d ever thought he would about Human body language over the past few weeks. He knew from the slight sway to Virgil’s every shift that the Human was drained, likely barely keeping his feet.

Still, he was upright to face Marta, his height advantage allowing him to look down at her, and that was better than being crumpled on the ground at her feet. Little victories were all they had now, and they clung to each and every one.

Roux wasn’t there, Roman realized with a jolt, and the knowledge was enough to drag his mind into overdrive, a sudden double-edged hope springing to life in his chest.

Virgil must have already realized, because the way he held himself shifted into something taut and coiled, like he was preparing to lunge forward at the first opportunity, weak or not.

“Back of the cell,” Marta commanded, voice turned brisk and blunt in a way it hadn’t been with Roman. Like she was speaking to a beast instead of a person.

Virgil didn’t move, barely deigned to acknowledge the words beyond a brief flicker of his pupils upwards.

Marta waited, letting the silence stretch for a brief moment, and then clicked her teeth together in a mild reprimand. “The hard way, then.”

Despite her apparent annoyance, the words held a sort of anticipatory delight, and Roman felt the thick tar of dread slide under his scales as he watched her slide a small, triangular remote from a pouch at her side.

When she pressed the button in the center of it, she was looking at Roman.

It was Virgil who went rigid and fell.

Despite knowing it would undercut every lie he’d tried to sell about how little he cared, despite the fact that he was playing right into her claws, Roman couldn’t help but rush to the bars separating them, a shout of horror catching in his chest.

The Human hit the ground hard but stayed chillingly frozen, with every muscle locked into hard lines. He didn’t make a sound until Marta shifted her thumb away from the button, the motion somehow allowing him to finally go limp like a puppet with strings cut.

“Virgil!” Roman managed, though the sound of it was nearly lost in the sudden loudness of the Human’s gasping breaths. He hadn’t been breathing before, Roman realized with a terrified shock.

Whatever Marta was doing, it hadn’t countered Virgil’s natural stubbornness, and he climbed back to his feet with less staggering than Roman would have expected.

His gaze caught on the tremor to Virgil’s hands, the shuddering of his pulse, and he understood. Adrenaline.

The fight or flight instinct, Virgil had called it while talking with Patton. Roman had seen him choose to fight once, at their very first meeting, but even that couldn’t compare to the speed and ferocity of the way the Human lunged now.

Marta didn’t flinch back when he made loud, skull-rattling contact with the bars, but she didn’t blink, either, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Virgil as she pressed the button once more.

Instead of letting him drop, however, she reached out and seized him by the face, claws digging in on either cheek and holding tightly.

Virgil couldn’t so much as flinch away from the pain, and Roman slammed his arm against the door of his own cell with force, furious at his own helplessness.

Marta released the trigger again, and this time, every gasping inhale Virgil took was dosed with her haze. He tried to jerk back, but it was far faster acting straight from the source, and he had barely a moment before his expression dropped to something hollow and smooth, his desperate strength wavering and then extinguishing like a flame with nothing left to burn.

“Down,” Marta commanded, releasing her grip, and Virgil stood in place for a few long heartbeats before his legs collapsed underneath him.

She waved a hand absently down at him, still scattering her haze thick in the air. “There you go. It feels so much better when you listen, doesn’t it?”

Virgil twitched, a ripple of discontent crossing his face, but didn’t respond. He was shaking relentlessly now, his entire body trembling in a way that had Roman deeply concerned.

“You’re safe with me,” Marta lied, reaching down to glide the palm of her hand over the side of Virgil’s face. “You’re only safe with me. Everyone else wants to hurt you, but I’ll make the pain go away. Always do as I say, okay?”

Virgil didn’t move away, even as her rough skin caught on the wounds her claws had left only moments ago. His breathing grew wispier, slower, until he appeared almost calm, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Let’s try this again,” Marta straightened, and when her hand left Virgil’s cheek, he strained after it for a handful of seconds. “Back of the cell.”

Virgil climbed back to his feet, and Roman closed his eyes as the Human quietly began shuffling across his stretch of cell. He felt all of six winters old again, watching his aunt lead something fuzzy and helpless back and forth, closer and closer to the water’s edge.

“Good. Now, heel.” More shuffling, wordless as a corpse.

How long did he have before Virgil took his own plunge?

—

It took longer than before for Virgil to regain coherence, afterwards.

Roman knew the moment he’d come back to himself, because the soft grip around his hand had instantly vanished, yanked away so sharply that he’d barely registered the movement before Virgil was up on his feet and backing away.

“Virgil,” he tried, and the Human shook his head, the motion harsh, his hands lifting up to grip roughly at his hair in a distressed motion Roman had only ever caught glimpses of back on the ship.

He’d continued to retreat until he hit the furthest corner of the cell, where he slid down and curled in on himself, utterly unreceptive to any of Roman’s stilted calls. Roman caught his expression crumpling into a miserable grimace before he buried his face in his knees and hid that away too.

The silence stretched.

If there were some right words to say here, Roman couldn’t find them. Even if he did, he undoubtedly wouldn’t be able to say them. The helplessness sheared against his scales like rough sand, but how could he allow himself to wallow in it when he at least still had his mind, his existence still unarguably his own?

Freshly taunted by the knowledge that he didn’t have even that much, Virgil remained still and taut and quiet in the furthest reaches of his cell for what felt like a very long time.

When he did finally stir, Roman was appalled to see the faint streaks on his face where his tears had washed away the sweat and grime.

Patton had described Human weeping as arrhythmic vocalizations, much like Ampens, but with a physical manifestation as well. Roman hadn’t known that Humans could cry silently, like a pup gone still and quiet in the face of danger, with only the barest hitching of breath to indicate distress.

The expression on Virgil now was creased into firm lines, but it didn’t seem agonized or crumbling at the edges. Rather, as he climbed to his face, he seemed to hold the same bitter resolution Roman had seen in him a few times before: during the tail end of their first meeting, and after the fight with the raiders, both times when he’d thought he was about to be left alone again.

“Roman,” he started, and then worked his jaw tersely, once, twice. Rather than continue, he held out a hand, palm-up in silent offering.

Things had changed a lot over the course of their captivity, Roman reflected as he reached out and set his own hand in the Human’s grasp with barely a shred of hesitation. It felt like second nature by now, to reach out and cling on whenever his stomach was roiling with stress.

Virgil watched him for a moment longer, and then wrapped his fingers around Roman’s hand and drew closer, slowly pulling his arm up until he had positioned Roman’s claws just above the skin of his neck.

“This,” Virgil said, each word resolute, “is the best place to sever if you want to kill a Human quickly.”

The words took a dull, ringing moment to sink in, but once they did, Roman jerked back sharply. “Virgil, what—?”

For the first time, Virgil held on, keeping his hand pinned in place with ease even as he had to grip the bars with his other hand to remain upright. Roman could see the way the Human’s pulse fluttered under the skin, a heartbeat racing visibly exactly where Virgil had indicated.

“It’s important. You need to know,” Virgil insisted, and lifted their joined hands higher, to his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Gashes up here are valuable because the blood runs down and drips into their eyes, which will work pretty well as a distraction—,”

“Stop it!” Roman demanded, yanking harder as his panic increased. “I’m not going to— stop talking like that! I don’t need to know how to hurt you!”

At the start of their voyage, Roman would have done just about anything for information like this, anything to feel safe on his own ship again. So why was he learning it only now, when each word and accompanying gesture made him feel ill and rotted down to the tip of his tail?

“It’s not— Roman, it’s not about me,” Virgil said, frustration seeping into his voice. He let Roman drag his hand away from his face, but still didn’t let go. “It’s about them.”

Roman wasn’t sure he believed that. “I don’t need to kill anyone. They’re brainwashed, this is Marta’s fault! I know the truth, now.”

Virgil shook his head, ghosted the fingers of his free hand over his implant scar with a distant, sickened expression. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want guilt to be the reason— Look. If it’s them or you, I want it to be you. I want you to make sure it’s you.”

And what if it's me or you? Roman thought, but the words lodged firmly in his chest until he could barely breathe around them.

“They all made their choice,” Virgil continued once it became clear that Roman wouldn’t respond. “They’ve kept making that choice, every time. You have to want to survive, too, okay?”

Mutely, Roman nodded, trying to ignore the creeping sense of horror. He pulled Virgil’s hand back towards himself, fumbled for speech for a long moment before finding the words and hoping they didn’t feel like a betrayal when spoken aloud.

“The underbelly,” he started, and Virgil’s expression— shut down. Every hint of body language went flat like stone, and just as unyielding.

“No.” The word was final, a sentence all its own, and Roman scowled mulishly.

“But—!”

“Roman.” Virgil lifted his other arm over so that he was clasping Roman’s hand between both of his own. “You’re the only one left, right? You told me that.”

The thought was still a wound-like pang in his chest, even after all this time. “Yes,” he admitted. “But, even still—,”

“No way. I don’t want to hear it, man. There’s nobody I would be willing to use it on, anyhow.” Virgil kept his gaze locked firmly on a point past Roman’s shoulder, but his shoulders were set, his voice steadfast.

There was no point arguing. Not now, when the both of them were one wrong move from collapse.

“Okay,” Roman finally said, and forced himself not to protest when Virgil reclaimed the position of lecturer. It was a struggle not to wince away with each gory anecdote, a full guide on the quickest ways to make the Human body stop functioning or even turn on itself.

“Gut wounds are slow to kill, but they can be painful enough to debilitate. There are vulnerable organs here, below the rib cage, and damage to them is difficult to treat without surgery if the wound is severe enough…”

Still, he held himself at attention, did his best to memorize every word.

If Virgil wouldn’t accept knowledge about Roman’s own vulnerabilities as a gift of equal exchange, Roman would simply have to treasure this information with the same dedication that he applied to the rest of their small crew.

After all, knowing all the individual weak points of a Human would make it that much easier for him to protect each and every single part of Virgil.

Virgil wasn’t going to die. Not here, and certainly not by Roman’s own claws. Not if Roman had anything to say about it.

#sanders sides fic #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #humans are deathworlders #my writing #writing #sanders sides #space au

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mikanussy · 1 year

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YOUR HONOR, THEY ARE THE BESTEST AND SILLIEST OF BOYS!!

they are not at this point in their relationship in the fic yet... but im impatient and THEY CUDDLE!!!

fic link here!

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides art #sanders sides fanart #remus sanders #ts remus #ts janus #janus sanders #demus #ts demus #dukeciet #ts dukeceit #tss fanart

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krislin · 1 month

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Monster Sides

A Sanders Sides Monster AU fic

Summary:

In a dark forest, some distance away from the capital, but right outside a small village, lived six individuals.

These six were seen as cursed, as monsters.

But those in the forest saw them as a part of nature, maybe even guardians.

These six were a close family, living together and helping each other.

Word Count: 4590

The land of the large kingdom was extraordinary. The meadows were a beautiful green, the skies a bright blue, and the weather was usually at its best. Gentle winds blew over. The grass and leaves dancing softly alongside it. The forests around in the kingdom were a significant source of materials for the city, towns, and villages. All from herbs, to food, and to wood could be gathered in these gatherings of flora.

But there was one forest in the kingdom that none dared to even approach.

Next to a small village, a fair distance away from the capital of the kingdom, was a large, gloomy forest. Objectively, one would say it looked no different from any other forests in the territory of the kingdom, but for the people, it was a cursed and dangerous place.

After centuries of living next to that forest, people had come to learn to never step inside, or even close to it. It didn't even take long after the village was first established that they found out something dangerous resided in the darkness between the large, old trees.

Or not just something.

Deep in the forest stood a large and old, almost run-down, mansion. But no human lived inside.

Or preferably said, no full human.

All the creatures belonging to the forest knew who they were, and what they were. But they all lived in harmony.

Because in the mansion lived six men. All hybrids that made them only half human.

Many would see them as monsters, but the fauna saw them as much of a part of nature as themselves. Maybe even more. The nature of the forest would sometimes even call them the guardians of their home.

Outside the mansion laid a small lake. Next to the lake was one of the six. The man had bright brown hair and round gray glasses on his face. As a silhouette, he would have the appearance of a normal human, but in the light, one would immediately take their words back. His skin was a slight shade of green, and clearly looking moist. The man smiled brightly as he skipped alongside the lake side. His leaps were longer and higher than possible for the normal human.

Because this is Patton. The frog hybrid of the mansion.

Patton continued to hum and skip his way back towards the mansion. His beams were as bright as he was known for every time he saw an animal or a pretty plant close by. Even if he knew their domain well, it always made his day to see the forest in such a pretty state.

The sound of a hysterical cackle came from the trees next to him, but it didn't alert the man. Patton only smiled widely as he stopped to turn in the direction. "Remus! Back already?" he beamed as he waved towards the rustling bushes closing in.

Through the bushes stretched a dark green tentacles, placing itself on the ground to drag its core forwards. "Heya, Croakie!" the man, Remus, grinned when through the plants. The man had the upper body of a human with dark brown hair with a silver highlight on his bangs. But his lower body was of just dark green tentacles with black dots on the top.

This is Remus. The octopus hybrid of the mansion.

"You should have seen those brats!" Remus told, laughing hysterically as he dragged his tentacles to approach the other. "They had the audacity to make a dare to approach our territory! But that just made the day so much better!" he laughed, as he held his right arm to the side. He held his hand open, and suddenly green sparkles sparkled over his palm, and his morning star fell into his hold. "It's been far too long since I got to play with the humans!"

"Now, now, kiddo. I know they're humans, but don't be too harsh on them. Especially if they were kids," Patton softly scolded the other. But even with his hands on his hips, there was still a slight amused smile on his face. Patton may ever be the optimist, friendly, and peaceful one, but even he had the disliking to the human species.

Snickers filled the air around them as Remus explained the humorous scene to Patton. They had never hurt any humans, unless necessary. They only wanted the selfish species to stay away from their territory and those residing in it; them, the animals, and all the plants.

The sound of wing beats reached them through the silent air, making the two turn to see the third of the six flying in for a landing. Patton beamed seeing the man, jumping high in joy as he landed. "Logan!" he beamed, leaping to immediately stand next to him. "Everyone's back early! This is great!"

This one is Logan. The owl hybrid of the mansion.

"Indeed," Logan answered, a tiny smile of joy visible. He tucked his dark brown feathered wings into his back, then turned to the octopus hybrid. "It would seem your scare has given us the boost for a peaceful day today."

"Of course!" Remus beamed at the praise hidden behind the sentence. A hand was proudly placed to his chest, his weapon disappearing with a green light. "But as much as I wished to play with them more, Hoarder and I have something to finish."

Logan's black hair blew to the passing wind as he narrowed his eyes at the other. "If this is that creation competition you are talking about, I do hope you tend to mend what you break and make sure he doesn't hoard more than he already has."

"Hey!" an offended yell came from the mansion. They all turned, and they all saw a man with red hair and red dragon wings and tail come flying over. "I am only keeping the necessary things in life in our home. Thank you very much!" The man landed down by the group, but he was mostly throwing Remus a glare, which earned a grin back.

This man is Roman. The dragon hybrid of the mansion.

A deep sigh left Logan, and Roman turned to the owl hybrid to see the man shaking his head. "The pile of unnecessary equipment and object in your hoarding room says otherwise, I believe." Logan turned his eyes to look at the dragon hybrid through his black glasses. The talons of his hand were raised to adjust the glasses properly back on his nose again. "But as long as it doesn't pile up outside that room, do as you please."

"Great!" Roman beamed, but shook his head and coughed into his fist of clawed hand. "I mean-. Like it will ever overfill. There's so much room left inside! I can still fly inside, you know!"

"Now, now, do not lie," another man's voice came from behind, a slight hiss in his speech. Everyone turned around to see a man with a bright yellow snake lower body slithering towards them from the mansion. The man's snake tongue flicked out, but looking rather amused as he slithered closer. The left side of his face had greenish-yellow scales which almost gleamed in the light, and on top of his brown hair laid a black fedora with a yellow ribbon around the base. "You know lying to us won't do."

This is Janus. The snake hybrid of the mansion.

Roman rolled his eyes at the fifth man of the group as he stopped by them. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Slithering Scales," the man scoffed out, but gave out a small smile as he nudged the yellow snake hybrid with his elbow. But a small scoff them came from him, and his red eyes glanced between Janus and Patton. "But you two alright to be out? Winter's approaching, you know."

"Ever the overprotective hoarder you are," Janus commented as he rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile as he shook his head. "We are fine. The season is yet to properly begin. We cold-bloods have survived multiple winter already, you know."

"Yeah!" Patton beamed, leaping around them all. "Your fire and my strange, dark son's clothes and blankets really help!"

Roman gave out a pleased smile at the response, but he did give out a pout at Janus's comment. As part dragon, of course he would be protective of his hoard. And his main, and most precious, treasure he had in said hoard was his family. "Great to hear, Padre," he smiled at Patton, but turned to glance back at the mansion. "Speaking of him, where is he?"

"He was resting in his web the last time I saw him," Janus shrugged as he answered the other. "I had him rest after creating a bit too much silk for his crocheting and knitting later. He doesn't eat enough for the silk production he's doing."

"My poor kiddo!" Patton immediately spoke out in horror and concern. The man made a giant leap towards the mansion, but the sound of skittering had him stop.

Everyone glanced up the walls of the mansion. And out one of the top windows, something came out. "Hey, Snake Face, I have control of my own health, you know," the last of those calling the mansion their home said. The man had black hair and a black hoodie on, but his lower body was of a large spider body. Though his upper body wasn't fully human. The man had eight eyes, six fully purple and the last two human brown, and on each side of his mouth he had the fangs of a spider, which moved slightly as he spoke. And his lower body, his spider body, was large enough for someone to actually sit on his back, but mostly having to curl into themselves to not get hit by the eight legs as the man crawled around.

This is Virgil. The spider hybrid of the mansion.

Virgil crawled down the wall of the mansion, his spider legs letting him walk on any surface without troubles. He crawled down to step down on the grass, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at the snake hybrid. "And for your information, I had just stopped when you slithered in. I was just about to start crocheting, but you just had to barge in."

"Whatever you say, Spiderling," Janus responded, rolling his eyes, but throwing him a smile. "Just make sure to rest. You work too much when winter approaches. You're cold-blooded as well, so you need your rest, especially with the stress of the season."

A scoff left the spider hybrid, but he shook his head and let his arms fall down, his black clawed fingers having a few short silk threads dangling down and dancing to the breeze. "I'm the one making clothes and blankets, you know. So for now, I'm the warmest cold-blooded here."

The chirp of birds came as two magpies came flying down, landing on the back of the spider hybrid. The birds chirped happily up at them all, and they all smiled and greeted back with a nod. Virgil gave the two a smile, and he moved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Getting something out of the pocket, Virgil got out a small crochet blanket of his silk, handing it over to the two small birds.

"Here you go," Virgil spoke, smiling as he handed the birds the small blanket. "Stay safe and warm in your nest now. The cold's approaching soon." The magpies gave him joyful and thankful chirps, and the two grabbed the silk blanket and flew off into the forest. Virgil smiled as he watched them fly off, but turned to glance at the others again, also taking notice of the skies above turning dark. "Well, evening's coming, so I better get to my route while handing out what I got."

"Alright, stay safe, kiddo!" Patton beamed at the other, beaming brightly as Virgil went to crawl past them. "Let us know if you need anything, alright?"

"Of course, Popstar," Virgil responded, giving a salute over his shoulder as he headed for the trees behind. Suddenly the man stopped and turned around to face them again. "Oh, and I repaired all the stuff with holes in them," he informed them all, earning beams of delight in return. "That includes the plushies. They're all on my web, so get them whenever."

Cheers erupted from Patton, Remus, and Roman, while Janus and Logan smiled with a nod of appreciation. "You're awesome, Virge!" Roman beamed, eyes visibly sparkling with joy before he spun around to bolt into the mansion to fetch what Virgil had repaired for him.

Patton was not far behind the flying dragon, Remus quick to follow as well. Janus and Logan was left, chuckling alongside Virgil as they watched the others charge in with such energy. "Thank you, Virgil. It is much appreciated," Logan said with a smile at the spider. "But stay safe out. Remus most definitely has scared the humans away for today, but one never know when it comes to that species."

"Yes, yes, I know," Virgil answered, rolling his eyes. "No need to say that every time. I can take care of myself. My poison is paralyzing for a reason."

"Yes, Remus had you show so too many times," Janus agreed, snorting at the memories of the octopus hybrid constantly having Virgil paralyze some of his detached tentacles after regenerating new ones for fun. "Just make sure you don't freeze. The colder you get, the slower you get. And that means the longer in the cold you will be."

Virgil huffed in response, but gave no other answer as he turned to leave the place. Janus and Logan watched as the spider left into the forest, and the two turned to head into the mansion themselves.

*************

Virgil silently hummed to himself as he crawled between trees and bushes. Each step his eight legs took made a tiny sound in the grass and leaves, and with the speed of his steps, his crawling always sounded like skittering. And many in the forest recognized that skittering.

Birds, squirrels, deer, and all the animals of the forest would glance up and approach him during his routes through their home. Virgil greeted them all with a small smile, and many animals came either leaping, running, or flying over. The day was turning dark, a time where most would go to lie down for the day, but seeing the hybrid being close, they'd always come over to greet him.

"Hey, guys," Virgil softly greeted. All the animals joyfully greeted back, and a soft chuckle left the hybrid as bunnies, squirrels, and birds came to rest on his spider back. "Hope you're all doing well. But since winter is approaching, I came to give you all new blankets."

The spider put his hands into his pocket, and out came a roll of blankets of his silk. All of the animals grew visibly joyful, and Virgil smiled, pleased to see them like it. He handed out blankets, one by one to the animals around him. All the deer got the larger blankets over them, the birds got the smallest to carry to their nests, and the squirrels and bunnies got the perfect size for them, or larger ones if Virgil knew they had a family. All the other animals with them got their blankets as well, and Virgil was happy as to how tight he rolled the blankets, seeing that it was good that he brought as many as he could.

Virgil lifted the last blanket in his hold to hand to another pair of birds, but the sudden harsh gust of a wind had it fly out of their hold. The birds chirped in dismay as the silk was blown away from them, and they watched it quickly disappear into the darkness with a distressed look.

"Oh, crap..." the spider muttered, seeing the blanket fly between all the trees and much farther away through his night vision. "That was my last one too..." The birds' chirps was low and short, both lowering down to the ground in sadness. "Hey, hey, it's alright," Virgil assured them, gently holding down his hands to them. Both birds glanced up at him, but jumped onto his palms for him to lift them up. Virgil held them up and guided them to his left front leg, letting them jump on to rest right by him. "Don't worry, I can quickly make a new one. It's all fine."

Questioning chirps came from the two, and Virgil gave a soft chuckle as he shook his head. He quickly reassured them once again, and he raised a clawed finger to his mouth and stretched out multiple silk threads, enough to make a thick enough thread to use.

"Won't take long. Don't worry," Virgil mumbled as he moved the thread to his left pointy finger, using his right one to drag out more silk from his mouth. Unlike normal spiders, Virgil created silk from his mouth, usually using his fangs to hold the thread still as he used his clawed fingers to crochet, knitt, or sew with. And his clawed fingers were able to make a small hook at the tip, which was what made him able to crochet, but for knitting and sewing, and outside all that, he usually kept his claws straight and pointy.

Virgil laid on the ground as he started. His legs, except the one the birds sat on, halfway tucked under his body to lie comfortably. Most of the animals had left to sleep for the approaching night, but some continued to stay around the spider, curled in their blanket as they peacefully watched the hybrid crochet another of his blankets.

The birds happily chirped as they watched him masterfully create their blanket, and Virgil smiled as he glanced to the side at them.

Unusual gusts of winds came to their hearing, and they glanced up at the dark night sky to see something red come flying over them. "Ah, there you are, Spider Nightful!" Roman was to speak as he beamed seeing them under him. The dragon flapped his wings to slowly lower down to the ground, careful of the trees' branches. But as he landed his feet down on the ground, he raised an eyebrow at the glare Virgil was throwing at him. "What?"

"Mind your wings, Flame Head. I'm crocheting here, and your gusts are not helping," Virgil scoffed, but returned to his crocheting, being close to finishing the small silk blanket for the two waiting birds.

"And why are you out here, working more in the middle of the cold night after not having had your meal after your last production?" Roman challenged the other, a protective glare thrown at him through narrowed eyes. "I am certain you have not eaten anything protein filled since you left. You know you'll grow weak if you're lacking that, Virgil! You can't go producing more silk without refilling yourself!"

Another scoff left the spider, and he finished off his blanket as he sent the other a glare. "Geez, never took you to be one to sound like Logan," he commented, but averted his gaze to give the blanket to the thankful birds. The birds gave thankful chirps and took off with their new blanket, and Virgil gave them a small smile before turning it into a sigh as he turned back to the dragon. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to stay in the mansion to keep up the fire for the others?"

"Logan can hold the fire up long enough until I return," Roman answered with a shrug, but stepped forwards to give Virgil a push in the direction of their home. "You're much later than normal, and you need my fire just as much as them! So off we go now, Night Crawl!"

"Alright, alright, Ro! Geez!" Virgil yelled, but sighed as he shook his head. "I know you're a hoarder, but keep it down, could you? You know I can defend myself if something would suddenly come."

"Whatever you say, V," was all Roman responded before grabbing the spider's wrist to drag him along with him. Virgil groaned as he was dragged by Roman, who power-walked through the forest. The dragon hybrid was dedicated on bringing the spider with him back home before the air grew too cold for the cold-blooded. Roman threw the other a glare after hearing the annoyed groan. "You have no right to do that, Emo Nightmare. Only one hoodie isn't good enough! You don't even have any of your blankets on you! What you have on isn't enough to keep you warm, and you know that!" Roman scolded, only receiving an annoyed deadpan in return, which he ignored as he faced forward again, all out on getting home. "This is why you need my fire!"

A snort came from the other, but he didn't speak out. He knew Roman was in his protective hoarder mode because of his longer than usual absence. And because of that, he knew it was futile to fight against it. He never fought against it, only showing his annoyance or teasing the other, whichever fit the situation best.

It wasn't long until they came to the treeline ending by their mansion. Stepping through the last bushes, they appeared in the back garden of their home. Faint light danced on the grass during the darkness of the night, so Roman strode towards the back door, still dragging the spider with him.

Roman swung the old wooden door open, stepping into the indoor light with Virgil right behind. The moment they stepped inside, Virgil felt the change in temperature, and a silent sigh of relief left him. The spider's shoulders slumped down at the warmth, not having to force an appearance anymore.

"Come," Roman spoke with a stern voice, but stepping through the room and towards the living room right by. Another sigh left Virgil, but the spider crawled after to follow into the warmer room.

Huddled together in some type of pile were the others. Janus and Patton laid in the middle, Remus using his tentacles to keep the large blanket over them in place, and Logan standing by the fire in the fireplace. Hearing the two return home, Patton beamed brightly, almost jumping out of his spot as he waved them over.

Roman smiled at the frog hybrid, but turned to give Virgil a brief nod to then take Logan's place by the fire. Logan gave the dragon a nod, and he stepped to join the pile of hybrids to help keep the warmth for the cold-blooded ones.

Virgil soon came to crawl over, and Remus lifted some of his tentacles, a part of the blanket while at it, so the spider could join in the middle, the spot for the cold ones. When tucking in his legs and lying down, Janus wrapped his long tail around him, but placing an arm on his back as support. With Virgil's body being a lot different, his back basically going ninety degree up from his spider body, he always only laid with his spider body, his human top having to hang or lean into something for support.

Remus stretched the blanket out to lie over the spider's back, but stretched a different tentacle to fetch another blanket to their side. With the new blanket, he wrapped it around Virgil's shoulder, having the spider now fully covered. Finished with his job, he continued to have his tentacles spread to keep the blanket over the three firmly in place, even if they were to move slightly.

But having nothing much but an arm to support his back, Virgil raised a finger to his mouth for his silk. He needed something to lean on, or his back would turn stiff again, and a single thread hanging from the ceiling would be enough for him. But as he went to do so, a growl from Roman had him stop to turn and raise an eyebrow.

"What did I just tell you earlier?" Roman questioned, eyes obviously narrowed with a warning look.

A huff left the spider, but he let his hand fall back down. A demanding look was shot back, and the dragon immediately went to drag over a cushioned stool for him.

When the furniture was in arm reach, Virgil immediately dragged it over and leaned onto it with crossed arms.

Seeing as everything was finally settled, a sigh of pleasure came from Patton, and he melted into the pile. With everyone back home, and Roman keeping a bright fire burning for them, everything was perfect. The group had always lived together and had this routine for the colder times. The more warm-blooded would always make sure the cold-blooded were all well in health, not growing cold or sick.

Remus, as an octopus hybrid, should also be a cold-blooded, but for some miracle, he was actually not. Maybe it was from his creation magic, like Roman's, or if it was his relation to the dragon hybrid, no one knew. They were just glad he wasn't cold-blooded as well. Knowing he would have been a difficult one to keep healthy as so. That man was always all around. All from being underwater in the lake, to climbing in the trees, to doing his job to scare off all the humans daring to step close to their territory. Keeping him constantly warm enough would be a pain for them all, so they were thankful for that miracle.

Logan got up from his place, his wings tucked behind his back, but Virgil could see the others had helped him groom by the time he had gotten back, or more like Roman dragged him back. "I will go and start on something for us all to eat," Logan stated, heading to the kitchen, leaving the group to continue to huddle together for warmth. "I will be right back."

"Alright! But call if you need help!" Patton called after the other, but cuddled closed to Janus as he hugged the silk blanket closer to them.

"He'll be fine like usual, Padre," Roman chuckled as he stepped over to take Logan's place by the frog. "He does fine in the kitchen. Though I do still prefer your meals, but the priority is to keep you warm."

A small chuckle left Patton, and the man croaked as he reached an arm up at the dragon. Roman smiled as he took it, and Patton dragged him down to lie with them. An amused laugh came from Roman, but he got himself comfortable by the pile, but making sure he had good view of the fire, being ready to strengthen it if it was to weaken for even a moment.

Everything was nice, cozy, and peaceful for them as another normal day passed by. The six men were as close as one could be without being blood-related, with the exception of Remus and Roman that is. And they would continue to be a close family of unique specimen, who stood out from everything else in the world.

The moon of the night sky shone beautifully down over the mansion as they all feasted and cuddled together for warmth and rest. This was all they ever needed, and it was all they ever wanted.

This is the hybrids' mansion. Their home.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #spider virgil #snake janus #octopus remus #dragon roman #owl logan #frog patton #fanfic #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp

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