#ts virgil sanders
not always what they seem (3)
warnings: remus pov so lots of brief mentions of gore/violence, some NSFW comments/innuendos/saucy jokes, dissection mention, miscommunication, minor injuries
the song remus so graciously performs for everyone is "a gorey demise"! :)
Remus kicked his legs absently as his alien carried him through the giant halls of... wherever the hell they were. A spaceship? Some sort of research facility? Maybe probing was still on the table.
He was pretty sure at this point that this was real, if only because if it was one of his night terrors, there would have been at least 35% more death and gore by now. Maybe 40%.
And it wasn’t like there hadn’t already been prime opportunities at basically every moment, with how small and crushable they were in comparison to each of the aliens! If the three of them were the protagonists, by slasher movie standards, two of them would have to be grotesquely killed by the end. He wondered absently which of his fellow abductees would make a better Final Survivor.
His attention immediately switched tracks as they reached a stopping point, and Logan settled their hand down on a giant, metallic table. Remus rolled off onto the surface and sprang up to his feet, rubbing his hands together maniacally. “So, what’s first?”
The alien’s big fluffy ears twitched, but they didn’t do more than glance down at Remus before tapping at a smooth blue surface and pulling up extensive diagrams. Well, if the alien wasn’t going to bring the experiments to him, he’d bring himself to the experiments!
He trotted across the table and skipped onto the blue surface, ignoring the windows and symbols that flickered into existence behind every step. If they didn’t want him walking all over the alien version of a touchscreen, they should have kidnapped him with shoes! Or broken his legs, like very literal theatre fans.
Logan didn’t lift a hand to stop him though, their head tilted curiously like a feral cat seeing something small and breakable to maul. Remus dialed the probability of it being a night terror up a few percentages, and then turned to look at the diagrams anyhow.
Ah, yes, pictures. The universal language.
He had no idea what most of the creatures depicted were or what the labels attached read, but the drawings themselves were clear enough: bodies posed neutrally, no clothes, and some parts of them exposed to show muscle, bone, and organ.
“Hm,” Remus hummed, consideringly. “These are either dissection diagrams or some really gory pornography... Either way, I’m so down.”
He flashed the alien a double thumbs up, and flopped down on top of a diagram. Logan reached over and messed with the touchscreen for a moment, and then reached even further and returned with a long, narrow utensil, black and pointed at one end.
They set the point of it directly next to his torso without even bothering to press the rest of him down, and Remus wondered if the alien expected him not to thrash around while he was being dissected. Maybe aliens had technology that deadened nerves as they cut through them! He’d always wondered how long he’d be able to survive a vivisection.
Logan moved the utensil, and Remus’s body twitched in adrenaline-fueled anticipation despite feeling exactly nothing. He craned his neck to see what was going on, and blinked.
A line stretched across the touchscreen where the utensil had slid across it, shadowing the curve of his ribcage over what looked hilariously similar to graph paper.
The alien was tracing him.
“Oh, come on!”
Logan’s tail swayed in curiosity as Remus began to make louder versions of those little noises that made up the aliens’ language, accentuated with a hand gesture. The motion made it harder to get an accurate outline, but the main point was to get basic measurements anyhow, so Logan didn’t try to stifle the little creature’s movements.
He absolutely didn’t want to disrupt the odd casualness with which this one treated him, so different from Virgil’s earlier twitchy terror and even D’s careful consideration of their every movement. While quite rowdy in nature, Remus seemed the most unconcerned with the situation, only showing aggression when one of the others had been grabbed without warning.
The tiny aliens were certainly a puzzle. D had given Remus’s name for them, perhaps indicating a social hierarchy, but Remus was also the largest between the three of them and had been completely unfazed by any teeth baring or tackling from the other two.
He prodded the tiny alien lightly as he finished and saved the measurement, and when that garnered no response, he curled fingers under them and lifted them up securely. Remus ragdolled petulantly, seeming oddly mopey. Perhaps the measurements had bored them?
Hopefully, the maze would provide a little more enrichment. Logan had made the deeper areas quite tricky, after all.
Patton was very delicate with how he handled D.
He’d tried to be careful with Remus, too, but they’d seemed pretty intent on trying to bite off little chunks of his suit, and attempt to scale dangerous items, and generally make Patton feel a little wonderment at the fact that the tiny creature had managed to survive long enough to make it to them.
With D, it was much easier, because the alien moved slower than the other two, with a purposeful grace. It seemed Patton didn’t have to worry about D throwing themself off any available high surface just to see if Patton would manage to catch them in time, at least.
He carefully shifted his hand to his research desk, and D adjusted the cuffs of their borrowed overlayer before stepping off of his hand.
Despite D’s languid movements, something about their body language seemed much more mindful than Remus. The pause as they took in the landscape and the ambient writing scrolls scattered across the table before deigning to turn and look at Patton, it felt almost... calculated. As though they were thinking about every move to present a certain image.
Patton reminded himself that there were plenty of aliens that didn’t feel as strongly as Nilhae about the authentic self, and these aliens in particular had more reason than most to hide themselves. They were tiny and vulnerable here, stripped from their homes and families, and by all appearances, Patton and his teammates were the ones responsible.
He wasn’t sure he’d be eager to share his unfiltered self if he was in their situation, either.
Patton clasped both sets of lower hands together determinedly. The solution was the same regardless of if he wanted to fulfill his responsibility as a researcher or make any progress in befriending these little guys: they needed to communicate!
He pulled out two sets of the common alphabet, one printed and one imprinted. He wasn’t sure which senses were the keenest for these aliens, which ones they used for their own language systems, so it was best to cover all his bases.
D studied the printed one curiously, but seemed less interested by the imprinted one. Perhaps the materials used for touch-reading were different for them? Patton moved his hand closer slowly, allowing them time to protest, and held a digit out.
After a short staredown, D set their tiny hand atop it, and Patton guided them both to the surface of the imprints. The symbols were oversized for their tiny digits, but they seemed to get the idea, running their hands over the carved bumps and glancing back and forth between the printed letters and the imprinted ones.
Patton cheered internally, and then flicked a finger in the air to get D’s attention.
“Wait here please!” he enunciated carefully, and then held a hand out, palm-down, to indicate that they should stay put.
D kept their expression carefully neutral, not twitching in any way Patton could read, which made sense, since this was the first time Patton was using these words. Hopefully, context and a few repetitions would help them puzzle the meaning out.
He dipped his lowest arms in a polite be-right-back, turned, and left the room.
It didn’t take him long to duck in and out of the few rooms that held the items he needed, though he seemed to accidentally give Virgil a bit of a startle, going by the wide-eyed look the alien shot at him as Roman greeted him briefly.
Every hand full, he returned to his space, and found D standing in almost the exact same spot, shoulders loose and relaxed, attention remaining on the printed alphabet even as Patton walked closer.
He set each item down, earning a casual glance from the alien, and discreetly checked the heat register for the desk’s touch surface.
Sure enough, the past few moments showed recordings of small footprints that traced the perimeter of the desk, checking every possible side of it, likely for an easy way down. Then, they swiftly headed back to the center of the desk and settled back in place, close enough that it would appear they hadn’t moved at all.
Patton’s mouth twisted unhappily; he could teach the aliens as many words as they wanted, but if they didn’t trust them enough to even show their discomfort with the captivity, real communication would be out of reach.
They had a long way to go.
Remus whistled cheerily as he was carried back to the communal room, Logan’s padded fingers forming a more secure grip around him than before. He didn’t get squeezed to death or anything, so the alien probably wasn’t too angry with him. Or they were just contemplating a more painful method to murder him.
The other alien, the one with the freaky-awesome bug mouth and the rude grabby hands, was still in there, seated by the designated Gawk-At-Humans platform. They made some greeting noises at each other, a couple of which Remus imitated to himself, mangling the vowels in the back of his throat.
As Logan got closer, he could see Virgil standing surprisingly close to Grabby, and even better, the kid was all in one grumpy human-shaped piece. He jumped down from Logan’s hand before it was completely lowered and laughed as he felt his knees pop uncomfortably.
Logan made a warble-chirp of probably-disgust-maybe-concern, but Remus was swiftly distracted by the emo appearing at his side between one blink and the next, as though he’d teleported. He circled Remus like a starving wolf, his lips pulling back slightly as he took in the bruising around his shoulders. “What’d they do to you?”
“Well, he didn’t dissect me, which would normally be an automatic fail in the mad scientist gradebook, but,” Remus paused for emphasis, “I got to trash the electronic version of a horror movie corn maze, so I’m pleased as prostitutes!”
“He put you in that maze? I knew that thing was unsafe, holy shit—,” Virgil moved to put himself between Remus and Logan like he himself wasn’t just as squishable as Remus was.
“It seemed OSHA-approved to me! Before I smashed through all those walls, I mean.” He admired his scraped up hands with a cheek-stretching grin. “It’s much less boring now, with all the fun and sharp metal scarecrow sculptures I put together to jumpscare the piss out of future contenders!”
“An alien put you in a trap-filled rat race and you made modern art?” Virgil asked, successfully distracted from whatever horrific war crimes he was inventing for Logan in that little lemming brain of his.
“Can’t have anyone beating my time!” Remus confirmed cheerily.
“You— I. Ugh. Whatever!” Virgil threw his hands up, and then grabbed the front of Remus’s shirt and dragged him further from the two aliens like a bully stereotype from a low-budget teen coming-of-age movie. “Listen, the other one— Patton? They came in here earlier without Dee. I’m worried about— my hoodie.”
Remus would have made fun of the emo for his slip-up, but he was too busy imagining Dee splattered across some distant spaceship flooring. “That alien hardly even touched me,” Remus countered for both of their sakes. “For someone with so many hands, the guy sure didn’t want to get handsy.”
“You used that one already,” Virgil told him, unimpressed. “Get better hand jokes.”
“I’m better at jobs.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows, and received a muted smack on the shoulder for his efforts. He glanced back at Grabby automatically and found both aliens watching them, neither taking umbrage with Virgil smacking him like a cat annihilating a moth. “What happened with your xenomorph?”
“Terrible movie to compare us to,” Virgil muttered, but he glanced over his shoulder at Grabby without any of his earlier terror. Grabby waved at him like some kind of people-pleaser desperate for connection. “Pretty sure I just went through the same ordeal as one of those endangered birds scientists catch and release. Weighed, measured, photographed against my will.”
“Did you at least get a colorful tag to attract more bitches with?” Remus asked, lifting his ankle up in example.
“I would have bitten them first,” Virgil replied sourly. “I didn’t spend my whole adult life avoiding all government interaction to get slapped with a house arrest anklet now. Especially not a colorful one.”
“They’re not that bad as long as you can ignore the beeping,” Remus assured him, and then paused to contemplate. “...All government interaction? Did you get sold to aliens for being a tax evader?”
Halfway through Virgil’s resulting spluttering fit, Patton trotted through the doorway, Dee sitting on one of his hands looking just as untouchable as always. He stepped gracefully onto the table’s surface once Patton’s hand got close enough for a smooth dismount, and said something in the alien language, apparently fluently as all three of them worked themselves into a tizzy over it.
Dee turned to them with an expectant look, and they wandered over to meet him like peons to their tyrannical king, or rotting driftwood in a river.
“Congrats on the Klingon!” Remus grinned salaciously. “Did you know the ship name for the most homoerotic characters in Star Trek is Kock?”
“Shut up, it is not,” Virgil said, like a nerd. “But seriously, you know what they’re saying?”
“Yes, completely, I learned an entire language in one session,” Dee snarked back, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like short phrases such as ‘thank you’ are much easier for non-native speakers to pick up naturally or anything.”
Remus interrupted Virgil’s answering hiss with a very important query. “Did you teach them any swears?”
“No,” Dee’s eyes flashed in warning, “and you won’t be teaching them any either. Or any English at all. The longer we keep our conversations incomprehensible to them, the longer we’ll maintain what little privacy we have left. I’ll share the alien language with you both, naturally, so you can report to me on what they say when they think we’re not listening.”
Remus and Virgil stared at him for a long moment before exchanging glances.
“I can’t believe you accused me of tax evasion when Dee is right here,” Virgil complained, earning himself a sharp look from the man in question.
“Who told you about that?” he hissed, and then visibly remembered that they were in space and so it probably didn’t matter. He adjusted his cuffs, which looked absolutely ridiculous from a guy wearing a hoodie instead of a suit. “Ahem. Regardless, we’re learning their language, not the other way around. If they have half a brain between the three of them, though, listening to me teaching you will be enough for them to pick up on some English. We’re going to need a distraction.”
“You had me at ‘between the three of them’!” Remus announced suggestively, making Virgil fake-gag next to him. “Leave it to me!”
Dee seemed completely content to let him wreak his havoc, grabbing Virgil and sitting down near the back of the table, the side where the aliens weren’t.
Remus strode up to the three giants confidently and cleared his throat pointedly. When that didn’t work, he screamed at the top of his lungs instead. That worked no matter where he was!
“Alright, everybody sit down, quiet down, listen up,” he started brightly, spreading his arms wide. “I brought you all here to recite the annual obituaries. Like every year, we’ll start with A and we’ll end with Z…”
Patton blinked, absolutely entranced as Remus belted out words to an invisible tempo.
The little creature’s vocal chords were stronger than they looked, because their melody came out loud and clear, with accompanying charades that Patton could make absolutely no sense of.
Once they had wound down to the last words and then silence, Remus looked up at them expectantly.
“Wow, that was so beautiful!” Patton cheered enthusiastically.
Remus’s eyes rolled up in what was probably an exaggerated expression and not a medical condition, and they clapped their hands together pointedly. Patton hesitantly mimicked the motion, and then more confidently when Remus visibly perked up. Eventually, he was using all three sets of hands for maximum clapping.
Logan and Roman followed suit, clapping to congratulating the abrupt performance while whispering about the implications of it between each other. Remus folded over in a deep bow that was probably an accepting gesture, and then took a deep breath.
As they launched into another song, all three aliens fixated on them, one of the two humans at the other end of the table smacked a palm against their face, utterly exasperated.
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Sanders Sides |Mandalorian au
Here's to @lucifer-in-my-head for allowing me to make these drawings.
Janus as Din Djarin (the Mandolin)
Thomas as Grogru (the Child)
Virgil as Cara Dune
Logan as Fennec Shand
Roman as Boba Fett
Patton as Peli Motto
Remus as Migs Mayfeld
Emile as Griff Karga
Remy as Moff Gideon
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Eyy more doodles
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There was one fanfiction I read where it was LAMP i think and Virgil was a photographer with the other three being murderers and his leg was broken. I don't remember who wrote it but it was definitely in tumblr. Anyone know what story it was?
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Tw: major character death, angst, hint of unsymp!sides (except Remus), arguing, illusions(?), knife/stabbing mention (hypothetically), panic attack (implied), swords, all caps (screaming), language, crying, unintentioned body morphing, self deprecating thoughts, overworking, unintentional triggering of panic attack, a t o u c h of derealization(?)
Let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 2460
A/N: hi @imma-potatoo um I know you probably don’t know me but do you remember this post? yeah I um I wrote it so yeah here it is :)
Edit: tumbled being a bitch baby and I can't get the fuckin link to work I'm so sorry D:
Janus is a complicated creature. He always has been and, presumably, always will be. But that's what humans are, aren’t they? Complicated, fickle little things. They suffer with emotions and thoughts and actions and make their way about the world like little ants trying to please their queen. But Janus has no queen, only five sides and a human to please. He’s not even a human, only a fraction of one that’s forced to live and breathe among the ants. However, no matter what he does, no matter how much he sacrifices and works and improves himself, he just can’t please them. Like I said, he’s complicated.
It’s not as if he’s the perfect person either. I mean, all humans make mistakes right? So why should he be any different? I suppose it’s because of his function, being Deceit rarely has its perks. Sure, impersonating other sides to be listened to or get his point across most likely wasn’t the most effective way to help Thomas but...who can blame him? I mean, it’s not as if he could just pop up and immediately be listened to. Hell, Logan shows up in almost every video and even he’s not listened to! But Janus still tries. And tries. And tries. And tries. And tries.
Right now, he’s trying to tell them that Thomas needs to take a break. He’s been working nonstop for the past three weeks planning videos, photoshoots, costume arrangements, events, and auditions. Needless to say, they're all a bit stressed. Janus most of all.
Changing from Deceit to Self Preservation was a major change in Janus’s life. I mean, spending years being hated and feared and hidden away from others did its damage, it's part of the reason why Janus inherited the snake traits but, finally being acknowledged that he’s real and a part of Thomas just like everyone else is was....overwhelming. Granted, nothing’s really changed. He still gets ignored, pushed around, and left out but...when those two words left Thomas’s mouth… that was all he needed. All he wanted. To just be seen. To be noticed by someone other than Remus.
It only lasted for a week.
Still, he does his job. He makes sure Thomas washes his face in the morning and drinks his coffee. He makes sure he goes to sleep, takes a shower, washes his clothes and does everything else a man in his thirties does. But throwing more and more projects in the mix means Janus gets pushed to the side, left to scream from a distance that Thomas needs to take care of himself. He’s been working overtime just to make sure Thomas goes to bed, not even worried about what time as long as his head hits the pillow before the sun comes up. Sometimes, he’s been unsuccessful. But he still tries. Even now, stressed and overworked out of his mind, he tries.
He was relaxed...well, somewhat, giving his points sparingly to not push the boundaries of his newfound acceptance too soon. He added a pro here and a fact there, trying to lead them all in the right direction. So far only Patton agrees and, given recent events, that basically means everyone else is against it. Still, Janus tries.
He’s settled in between the banister and Logan, putting him unfortunately close to Virgil who is definitely not sparring on giving him his fair amount of glares. Still, Janus endures, knowing that a break will only do Thomas good. I mean, have you seen Hamilton?
But the bickering soon turns into arguing between Roman and Patton, Janus not even daring to interject. It was surprisingly intense, the newfound hatred on Romans end and the persistent pushing from Patton coming together to explode in a bout of yelling. Janus shrank back from the noise, pushing himself further into the shadows in an attempt to hide himself. It, unfortunately, didn’t work.
“Jan, tell him that he needs to take a break!” Patton pleaded, looking at Janus with eyes that held all too much emotion behind them. He wanted to help, he really did, but…
“Oh yeah, please Janus, tell us why Thomas needs a break now that he’s finally getting work done,” Roman sassed back. Janus knew Roman just wanted to prove a point. He knew that. But the intense gaze the creative side gave him made him shudder. Roman was mad at Patton, not Janus. Still, the look of pure hatred bore into Janus, pricking his skin and making his stomach drop.
He couldn’t speak. No witty quip or sarcastic remark, not even a hiss. He just froze. He felt everyone’s eyes turn to him, waiting for a response to the very simple question. Hell, Janus had been supporting it for the past hour they had been talking about it! But now, all eyes on him and tongues ready to object, he couldn’t speak.
It felt as if the room was spinning, warping and contorting around him until he couldn't tell left from right. He knew it wasn't really happening, the real world didn’t work like that, but his brain was convinced that it was. He felt his eyes go wide and he stumbled, catching himself on the banister. He tried to hide it by adjusting his hat only to be met with a concerned voice.
“Janus? Kiddo, are you okay?” Patton, sweet sweet Patton asked, dropping the fierce gaze and tone and replacing it with a gentle question. Janus swallowed and cleared his throat.
“I’m fine, Patton, thank you for your...concern” Janus trailed off, taking a breath in between his words. His eyes started to waver in and out of focus. He gasped and stumbled again, leaning in the banister to keep his weakening body up. He heard Patton shout something, presumably his name, and rush over to him.
Too close too close too close-
Janus hissed at him, shrinking away from Patton and further against the railing. Patton paused, a flash of hurt washing over his face before he took a few steps back, holding his hands up in defense. Janus hated that look, the type of look that made you want to wrap Patton in a blanket to protect him from the world. He wanted to apologize but his throat wouldn’t work, staying stubbornly quiet as the room spun.
A sharp pain bore its way through his skull, feeling as if a hot knife was being stabbed in his snake eye over and over and over again. He yelled out and grabbed his face, kneeling over as it sent a wave of pain through his body. He could feel the others rush forwards, all ready to help the now screaming side.
Get away get away ge-
“Get away!” Janus hissed out.
He felt his body glitch, his insides morphing into something inhuman. He heard a gasp and he opened his eyes to see Patton covering his mouth, Logan furrowing his brow, Virgil staring at him with wide eyes and, of course, Roman with his sword drawn. Janus reached up to his face to feel glasses. He looked down to see a cardigan wrapped around his shoulders and draped over a light blue shirt. He glanced at Patton, confirming the suspicion that he had transformed into the moral trait.
“Kiddo...what's happening?” Patton asked quietly, patiently waiting for an answer.
Janus didn’t have one.
“I don’t kn-aaAAHH!” Janus tried to speak but was interrupted by another glitch, his voice cracking and diving deeper. He kneeled over again, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He could see a blue tie hanging from his neck and, upon sitting up, he realized he had now morphed into Logan.
“Janus are...are you okay?” Logan asked, speaking quietly and for the first time all day. Janus opened his mouth to speak when he glitched again, changing into Roman quicker than he did Patton or Logan. His mind didn’t have time to register the change before he glitched again, becoming draped in a plaid-patched jacket. He heard Virgil hiss.
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Virgil hissed out, more panicked than angry. Janus began to sass back when he glitched again, changing back to his former self.
He took a breath and shook his head, leaning against the banister to support himself. He wrapped an arm around his stomach and felt his skin prickle, his scales shining as well as his discolored eye. He slowly looked up, locking eyes with Thomas.
“H-...help-” Janus whispered before he was cut off by a scream, his body morphing back to that of Patton.
He couldn’t control himself now, his body moving on it’s own accord while his mind begged for it to stop. He just wanted it to stop. His mouth opened and before he knew it, he was speaking.
“I don't know if I can believe whatever YOU tell me.”
The words left his mouth before he even realized what they were, his hand involuntarily slapping itself over his mouth to stop him from saying more. Patton looked at him with wide eyes, covering his mouth with his hands in shock. Janus could see...he could see the pain in his eyes. The hurt. The regret. Tears were already forming on the moral traits’ face, one or two of them rolling down his flushed cheeks.
“J-Janus? What…?” Patton whispered out, voice barely audible even though the room was silent.
“Pat, ple-” he wanted to apologize. He needed to apologize. But the words couldn’t come out. He glitched yet again, changing into the logical side once more.
“You’re nothing more than a glitch, a mistake in the mind.”
Logan froze solid, face blank in shock. Janus couldn’t blame him, having his own hurtful words thrown back at him would do that to you. Logan absentmindedly fiddled with his tie, staring blankly at Janus. Janus tried to reach out, to take a step and tell him that it was okay, that this was all just a big mistake and that he was sorry, but the fear in Logan’s eyes when he took a step forward was enough to know he should keep his distance. Perhaps, forever.
The bones in his back shifted, forcing his body to morph into the creative side. He leaned exhausted on the railing, looking up at Roman in reluctant hatred.
“We can’t trust him! Did you forget that he’s EVIL?!”
Romans surprised gaze turned into a scowl, his eyes narrowing at the unwilling imposter in the room. Who could blame him? Janus has barely even been acknowledged as a facet of Thomas’s personality, much less accepted and liked. If he starts changing and mocking other sides in front of them all is it really such a stretch that Roman would be on guard?
But Janus can’t stand it. Not anymore. He and Roman had come to somewhat of an agreement, both apologizing soon after the last video and working on building their relationship from the ground up. Things had been good as of late but this...this could ruin that completely.
So Janus cried.
He didn’t mean to, it just kind of...happened. The stress from the past few weeks mixed with whatever was going on currently and the loss of trust between him and Roman was enough to send him over the edge.
He choked out a sob, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked pleadingly to Roman. Praying, wishing for it to stop. He just wanted it to stop. Romans intense gaze softened, his sword lowering as the creative side was at a loss for words. Well...almost.
“Jan? Jan, what’s wrong?” Roman asked tentatively, scared of saying the wrong thing or making the wrong move. Jan appreciated him for that, always willing to look out for others no matter what. That's what made him an inspiration.
He reached out with his hand towards Roman, hoping that something would happen to make it go away. All he got in return was another glitch and a purple patchwork hoodie over his shoulders.
“N-no-” he tried to make it stop, to morph back to his old self and hide away forever. But his body didn’t hold him any sympathy, his mouth dripping out evil words.
“Even if he can tell the truth, that doesn’t mean he can be trusted.”
Virgil's eyes lit up in shock, his eyeshadow darkening as he backed up from the deceitful trait. He started shaking his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he slid down the wall. He tried to speak, his words cut off by a wave of panic.
“I-...I’m so-sorry, Jan. I-...I-” the boy in black buried his face in his hands, Roman soon rushing over to comfort him.
“I...It’s o-” Janus was cut off by a grunt as a wave of pain passed through him. “-kay. It’s okay.”
“Kiddo, are you sure?” Patton asked...scared? He was careful, speaking softly much like he did when calming Virgil down from an atta-….oh.
Janus slowly looked up at him as his body morphed around him, changing back to his own skin. He didn’t feel real anymore, his face feeling too foreign to be familiar. He had no mask up anymore, all his emotions out there in the open for all to see. His eyes were cloudy, covered in a film of exhaustion and weakness. His skin was pale and flushed, his body shaking. He was absolutely pathetic.
He weakly looked over to Thomas, his body relying solely on the support of the wooden stairs behind him. He locked eyes with him, his stomach souring at the pity in his eyes. He opened his mouth, voice coming out in hoarse rasps.
“Oh, I hate this guy and his creepy...snake face!”
“Get out of here, Jack the Fibber!”
“Gah, Deceit! Leave me alone you slippery snake!”
“Well, your face ruined my day so we’ll call it even.”
“Why is he still here?”
“E V I L!”
One by one he repeated the words, his tears falling faster and his body growing weaker. He collapsed on his knees after the final word, clutching his chest as his breath grew sparse. He heaved in a final breath, looking around the room at each of the sides individually. He gasped out his final words, ones that would stick with the rest of them forever.
With that, he disappeared, his body falling limp to the floor. There were screams. Cries. Pleas for him to come back, for him to have a chance at being accepted. But it never worked. Day after day, year after year, nothing ever worked. Thomas would realize soon after that he had lost the ability to lie…
...and Janus with it.
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
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Ah yes, these three
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Unfinished attempt at Virgil
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thank you from the bottom of my heart for enabling me
(click for better quality)
let me know if you want to be added to the taglist:
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T O D A Y
Today Mark's the 1 year anniversary since I made my fisrt Sander Sides art (this one)
And to celebrate, I'm posting a drawing that I absolutely forgot about :)
I mean look at the progress made!!!
I'm also gonna be on a semi-hiatus forma while so I do apologize for that, its just a bit overwhelming, but I'll be back soon ✌
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Concept: Virgil with long, white hair in a ponytail
Ty for your time
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If Virgil falls asleep cuddling you (a rare occurrence, but one that nevertheless happens on occasion), you’re pretty much stuck. He will not let go. If you move, he will wake up just enough to tighten his grip on you and then fall back to sleep.
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virgil in a flannel shirt..?
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Chapter 3 of butterups and bread dough
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Written with @shitpostsandgoodposts
Janus had woken up early to bake as usual, and was busying himself setting out some things in the bakery, when the idea came to him. No-one had moved into this village for quite a while, and so Janus decided to take it upon himself to bring the newcomer a welcome gift.
After things were set up to an adequate degree, Janus put his 'gone for a minute' sign in the glass window of the door, brought a warm loaf of bread with him, and headed his to his house, which was located next door to his shop. He quickly picked a few yellow peonies from his garden, tying them with a lilac ribbon, and smiling at his work.
Half past seven AM was a little early to be awake on Virgil's opinion, but he had yet to procure a set of blackout blinds, and the sun had woken him up. There was a knock on the door, and Virgil decided that he might as well accept that the day was starting early today.
He took a minute or two to hastily pull on an outfit: black jeans, a white button-up, and a black, cable-knit jumper, and rushed downstairs still in his slippers.
"Hey," he smiled, opening the door to reveal Janus. And suddenly, Virgil became quite aware of his unbrushed hair and his slippers and every little thing in his teeth. Because Janus was wearing a hat and a waistcoat and a skirt and boots, and his hair was tied with a ribbon, and Virgil... Well, he was just Virgil.
"Good morning, dear" Janus said, smiling at Virgil. He fondly noted that Virgil actually looked rather endearing when he was a bit messy. He held up the bread and flowers. "I thought I would bring you a small welcoming gift and come to see how you're settling in. Did the move go alright?"
Virgil smiled and took the items that Janus had offered him. Baked bread, used as a sign of peacemaking, truce, or friendship. Yellow peonies, meaning welcoming and acceptance, tied with a lilac ribbon for harmony, and once again, friendship. Perhaps Virgil had finally found someone who cared as much about symbolism of little things as he himself did. "Thank you- The flowers look nice. A welcoming message?," Virgil said with a soft puff of laughter.
Janus quirked an eyebrow at him in pleasant surprise. "Not a lot of people know the meaning- so you're a fellow flower enthusiast, are you?" Janus asked, and Virgil nodded.
He looked back at the small garden, which was still messy and untamed, dry bushes choking out all life in the flower beds. "You know, there's a farmer's market on Thursday, I recommend taking a look if you're wanting to buy any flowers," Janus said with a smile. "Lavender does particularly well this time of year."
Virgil checked his phone quickly to put the date if the market in his calendar, laughing to himself about it- he looked rather out of place with a smartphone amongst Janus' pretty skirts and his own ivy-covered stones. "I'll definitely go check it out then," Virgil smiled.
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Virgil was staring out the window, focusing on the horizon, pushing his enhanced senses to their limits with his magic.
The window didn’t seem enchanted. Which meant Virgil could climb out easily. He would wait for the cover of night, but by that time his ‘rescue party’ would’ve arrived. And he’d much rather meet them.
As far as he could see, there was no trouble awaiting him once he got down. The mountains were good for hindering oncoming attacks, but Darla would be hard pressed to have him or to even pick him up herself as long as he made his way through them.
After the mountain there was a decent stretch of forest that would give him cover. But after that came the tough call.
Take his chances on the open fields and hurry from cover to cover. Or wait in the forest and sent Percival ahead to tell Roman where to look for him. They’d have to talk about what to do about Darla before they headed back anyway or she would just keep showing up.
He wanted to get to the others as fast as possible and not let them get too close to Darla if he could help it. But he also would prefer not to risk getting caught again. Darla would definitely put a protection on the window if they realized his fear of heights wasn’t enough to keep him from using that escape route.
He unclasped his staff. Could he risk trying to teleport from one cover to the next? He’d never tried before… But Roman did give him the staff… Then again did he have enough extra magic left? Maybe he should save it for emergencies?
Darla could check up on him any minute. He should get going, he could make up his mind on the way.
“You go ahead Percy. See if you can spot any trouble for me ok?” he asked. The crow nodded and flew out.
Ok. No more stalling. Virgil focused and brought out his legs. He could hear the fabric of his shirt tear as they pierced through it and spread out.
He climbed up on the window sill and trying very hard not to look down he started climbing.
@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse
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My brain is currently stuck on In Case by Demi Lovato and all I can think of is angsty Anxceit from Janus's point of view- right after Virgil left.
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Ah yes, The dark sides
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The Sides aren’t human, and while they do have some of the needs humans do, it’s to a lesser extent. In particular, they need very little sleep. So it’s a mystery to Logan how Virgil still manages to get sleep-deprived on a regular basis.
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Roman: Damn right I'm pretty
Virgil: I said petty.
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Chapter 2 of buttercups and bread dough
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Written with @shitpostsandgoodposts
Virgil stretched as he got up from his desk, satisfied with his work so far, and decided to call it a night. Usually, after all the visual stimulus from his largely digital job, Virgil liked to go on calm walks to tire himself out before bed. This usually meant finishing work and going out at two in the morning, and getting to bed at three. But, he still had a regular sleep schedule, and made up for the late bedtime by getting up a little later as well, so his life was still structured and happy.
This was one thing he was very excited about with the new location- a small quiet town, right by woods and country paths and creeks and rivers. The two AM walks here would be amazing. He put on his favourite coat and purple scarf with a smile, grabbed a torch and a flask of decaf coffee, and stepped out into the night.
As Virgil wandered the streets, there was barely a sound. The lights had gone out a few hours ago and everyone in the town was probably asleep, every window dark save for the occasional faint glow of a nightlight. The night was cold and Virgil could see his breath fog up in the faint illumination of distant porch lights.
It was all so distant from the city, no pervasive smell of cars and trash, no motorcycles roaring through the streets at the most obscene hours. He closed his eyes for a moment to listen to the quiet rustling of the trees, as somewhere in the distance, an owl screeched.
He walked slowly, listening to the small click of his shoes on stone, the slowly running water by the path he was on, and he looked at the stars overhead. There were barely any clouds, so he put away his torch, more than happy to walk by moonlight. He stopped for a second to note a constellation he recognised, before continuing on his way, the swish of wind in the trees providing a gentle ambience.
A soft glimmer caught his eye, and Virgil bent down to pick up a small rock. He couldn't tell in the dark, but from the cold, hard, crystalline structure, Virgil thought that it might be amethyst or quartz; those were both common ground-rocks here. As he picked it up, his knuckles brushed against something else. It was intricately shaped, dry, and fragile. He picked it up, discerning that the structure was bone, and distinctively a skull. Perhaps a rabbit or a mouse. Virgil promised himself he'd clean his hands when he got home, but both objects could make very interesting ornaments or art pieces.
He walked a bit further, leaving the old town houses behind him. He skirted along the side of the forest, the old trees imposing and mysterious in the darkness. Looking up, he tried to spot an owl among the softly swaying branches. He could definitely hear them somewhere in the woods.
He took one of the larger paths cutting through the trees, where the light of the moon just barely reached. He debated switching his flashlight on again but decided against it. He didn't want to disturb the peace of the night. And maybe he would see something interesting if he stayed quiet enough.
Sure enough, the patience he'd learned to value had paid off, and Virgil noticed some movement in amongst the branches of the trees. He waited, staying as still as he could for another moment or two, before he watched as an owl swooped down. It didn't land, instead diving down to snatch a mouse in its talons and fly back into the dark branches of the trees with a squawk.
The Virgil from a few years ago might have found this worrying- he had cared too much about things that couldn't be changed. Now, he watched with interest, and such was the way of life.
Once the owl had disappeared into the darkness once more, Virgil turned back to the town. He took another road home this time, passing by the small bakery shoved in between two old houses. He smiled at the hand painted sign, decorated with flowers and pastries.
It reminded him he needed to head over there later-he was out of bread, and he preferred it fresh to store bought. Although, a small part of him might have wanted to return to see the slightly mysterious baker again. He was the only person he'd actually talked to since he had moved in, and he seemed nice. Virgil thought that maybe it would be a good idea to make a friend or two now that he was living here, and Janus seemed like a good place to start.
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