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delimeful · 2 years

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you can’t go back (7)

warnings: depression mention, injury mention, misunderstandings, arguing, lmk if i missed any

His eyes had been open for a while now, and yet Virgil still wasn’t entirely sure he’d actually woken up.

He’d found himself sleeping deeper the longer he’d been stuck on this planet, and while part of him was worried about the possible detrimental effects of being dropped in a new atmosphere, most of him knew it was because there was no point in being on guard.

Even if he kept his rest cycles light and easily disturbed, all he was doing was waking himself up enough to remember that nearly all his defenses had been forcibly lowered.

There was also the fact that waking violently often made his aux limbs automatically strain against their restraints in a way that sent twinges of almost-pain down his spine.

After the first time he’d jerked awake to a Human’s gentle jostle and nearly pulled a muscle, Roman and Logan had taken to opening the barn door loudly— much louder than he knew they could open it— to alert him if he was sleeping, which he usually was. It was what he spent most of his time doing, at this point.

He still didn’t understand where he stood with the Humans.

On the surface of the coin, he was definitely still a captive, and they’d grown no closer to understanding his attempts at communicating, though admittedly he might have had more success in imitating their own syllables if he hadn’t been stubbornly sticking to Guard-tongue this entire time.

On the underside, however, he hadn’t been harmed or even threatened since Logan had persuaded Roman to give up on the ‘yell angry nonsense at the alien who doesn’t speak your language’ method of interrogation, and lately the Humans seemed almost… delicate, in how they handled him.

Despite the language barrier, Logan seemed committed to making sure Virgil more-or-less understood what each test would entail. Roman, who was often recruited into the demonstration, was surprisingly enthusiastic about playing the test subject role, even if half of his exaggerated expressions were near indecipherable. Frankly, Virgil was just quietly grateful the victim role was Roman, who had complained pitifully at length about a splinter, rather than Logan, who had significantly less visible pain displays.

(Virgil had once watched him grab the wrong end of a scalpel while he was occupied peering into one of their more fiddly science instruments, and the extent of his reaction had been a slight jolt, and then a few seconds spent staring blankly at his bleeding hand.)

Really, a shocking amount of their time during tests was dedicated to not freaking him out, made extra impressive by the fact that freaking out was one of Virgil’s strongest and most frequently used skills.

It was… confusing. Virgil’s Lator implant had grasped most of the words and sentence structure rules required for basic communication, but Roman and Logan never actually spoke about the reasoning behind their care. It seemed almost like an understood fact between them, which made Virgil think it was either a scheme established out of his hearing or a cultural rule so obvious that it went unmentioned.

Or maybe the Deathworlders who’d stumbled upon him were the only pair of Humans on the planet who weren’t vicious predators, and they happened to prioritize relatively ethical science over their own gain and/or violent revenge.

Except no, that was never how Virgil’s life worked. He’d scoffed at the idea the moment it sparked in his mind, dismissing it out of hand.

Now, seated unbound next to a Human and being taught the best way to pet Patch, who was alive and entirely unharmed, he was starting to reconsider.

The Human had come into the barn quietly, unaccompanied by either of the two Humans Virgil knew probably wouldn’t murder him on sight, and he’d realized only a moment after waking that he should definitely be growling or flashing his fangs, doing something to make himself look too scary to attack. At the very least, he needed a more defensive stance.

Except— Patch was there, looking up at him with big dark eyes. Patch was alive.

So instead, Virgil had bodily put himself between Patch and the stranger. Apparently, he was actually completely willing to get in a deathmatch with a Human if it meant not watching this furry little creature get hurt right in front of him.

Except the Human didn’t want to hurt Patch, was apparently safe enough for Patch to waltz right up and receive attention as though it was her due.

As it turned out— after a brief and terrifying mishap where Virgil looked up to find that uncanny Human expression of delight way too close— the Human didn’t want to hurt Virgil, either.

The Human had given him the words he needed to hear, which also happened to be the ones that he’d wanted to say.

His aux legs were free now, stretching and flexing tenderly in the air behind him. His wrists were still uncuffed, had been so for long enough that his wounds were entirely scabbed over. His hands were unbound, the fresh air cool against his underskin.

For the first time since he’d seen Roman’s brother in that cell, he was free.

He should already be running.

Next to him, the Human demonstrated how to delicately brush a finger up and down the little stretch of velvety fur above Patch’s nose, prompting the loudest rumbly pleased noise yet.

Virgil reached out and mimicked the motion.

The “kitty” was still settled firmly on his folded legs. Until there was an active threat, it was too risky to displace her. She might start making those petulant little upset noises.

“Yeah, just like that!” the Human encouraged, and no wonder Patch had deemed them an ally, with that open friendliness paired with unmistakable Deathworlder resilience.

(He’d seen the way they’d instinctively tracked his aux limbs with wariness, understanding that Virgil could hurt them, and yet they hadn’t attacked. They’d believed him, when he echoed their earlier words. Raised on a planet where every unknown could be a lethal threat, and they had decided to trust him.)

Honestly, Virgil kind of wanted the guy as an ally, at this point.

He paused, considering.

The Human’s gaze flickered over to him as soon as he’d lifted his hand, but despite their attentiveness, they didn’t shy away at all when he reached out, angling his fingertips up so only the pads of them would make contact.

Oh, this fur was a significantly different texture.

“Are you— Are you petting me?” the Human asked, voice noticeably rising in pitch.

Virgil hurriedly withdrew his hand, with an automatic chirp-chirp-click of concerned inquiry. He hadn’t thought Humans would be hurt by simple touch, but if he was wrong…

“No, no,” the Human’s shoulders were shaking slightly, their lips twitching up at the edges, “it’s okay! I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

They tousled their own hair in demonstration, much more thoroughly than Virgil’s careful pats, and then looked back at him, blinking expectantly.

Virgil cast a glance between them and Patch, wondering exactly how many species on this planet had perfected that expression.

When he’d thought of Earth as a planet full of physical contact, he’d been envisioning brutal takedowns and punishing blows, not this.

And yet, here he sat, patting the human again anyways.

They continued to speak, a good percentage of the words translating properly, but it didn’t seem to be about anything in particular. Virgil let his eyes wander, wondering at which point Humans usually introduced themselves. His own introduction was supposed to come after, both in terms of him being a Second and a lower social status(being both a visitor to the planet and a hostage(?)) but so far, zero out of three Humans had properly declared themselves. Maybe it was a cultural thing?

Out of pure habit, he flicked his second set of eyelids down, scanning back and forth for a routine check of their surroundings. It was the sort of thing he did regularly while hanging out with Janus, a simple method to ease some of his more irrational fears of danger.

This time, with the sight of two Human-sized smears of heat barreling in their direction, he felt far from soothed.

He was on his feet between one moment and the next, aux limbs poised high around him as Patch trotted a few steps away and began agitatedly cleaning her face with one paw.

The Human seemed much more concerned at the movement, jerking back in surprise so hard that they nearly toppled over entirely. “Woah! Are you okay?”

Virgil muttered a distracted confirmation in Guard-tongue, hurriedly reaching down and pulling them to their feet. They cooperated, which was good because although Chelcerae were on the larger side, they were also lightweight. Humans, on the other hand, were dense.

He didn’t need to take a second look at the barn to plan their next move; he’d been looking at the same four walls long enough to have any possible exits memorized. The window panels had all been closed and latched from the outside. The back doors were much the same. The front entry doors of the barn were slightly ajar, but that was exactly where Roman and Logan would enter.

There was no time. The only option was to stand his ground and fight, taking advantage of the Humans' urge to keep him in one piece. If he could keep their attention on him, he’d be able to create an opening for Patch and her Human to slip away.

Not that he had the words to explain any of that to them.

Hands still on the Human’s shoulders, he started to maneuver them towards the side wall without the table, hoping to capitalize on the Humans’ lack of 360 vision.

Three steps in, the barn doors were shoved open with a loud bang.

Virgil’s plates flushed a bottomless black as his mind reset, all higher thought set to the side as protect became the main objective.

He immediately yanked Patch’s Human close, chest-to-back so that both of them could track their opponents, and wound an arm around their front as a makeshift shield, ensuring that his claws were on full display. Thankfully, the Human was short enough that he could properly bare his fangs over their shoulder, and so he cracked his guardplate open without hesitation and let out a low, rattling hiss as bright venom flooded his mouth, a warning as distinct as the sun above.

Roman and Logan stopped dead, arrested by the sight of his aux legs flexed to their fullest length, the pointed ends angled directly at them. It no longer mattered how fast Humans were. Not when Virgil only had to twitch to send a lethal amount of spring-loaded force directly at an attacker.

“Release him!” Roman demanded, his face gone slightly grey.

Virgil couldn’t remember what emotional response that color shift signalled, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to hand over Patch’s Human, not when the other two were sure to be furious with them for sneaking in and freeing him.

Two against one would be a poor matchup no matter what, and the odds were worsened by the fact that Patch’s Human wasn’t nearly as tall as Roman or Logan.

Virgil was more than willing to play substitute Second for the guy, they’d earned that much and more, but he wasn’t a fair match for a Deathworlder on a good day. Today wasn’t a good day. In fact, today happened to be the latest in a truly impressive string of bad days.

“I said, let him go!” Roman snapped, edging forward a step.

Virgil snarled, the sound coming out deep and clear without the guardplate muffling it, and retreated a step back despite himself.

He couldn’t afford to show weakness, to get boxed in, but he’d centered Patch’s Human in front of him, an automatic urge to have him solidly under the protective halo of his aux limbs.

Unfortunately, that left the Human closer to their opponents than Virgil, meaning that offensive maneuvers were too risky. Virgil already regretted not tucking the guy behind his back, instead. He wasn’t usually the plan guy, okay?

“Wait, guys—,” Patch’s Human started, only to be cut off by Logan moving forward as well, eyes cold and assessing.

“There’s no solution to be found by taking Patton hostage. The moment you move to hurt him,” another step forward, “you will have given up every bit of your leverage, and you’ll still be trapped. Don’t be foolish.”

There was something off about the words, parts of the sentence not lining up, and Virgil’s rumbling growl grew louder as he scuttled back another step, struggling to process what little his Lator implant had retained.

“Surrender our friend now, or face the consequences,” Roman added, the pitch of his voice dropping back to that low, simmering anger he’d worn while asking about his brother. “There’s not a force on this planet or any other that can save you if you hurt him.”

Wait, there was something in there, something wrong— but Roman slid his next step along the dirt, bringing him just out of striking range, and Virgil’s panic ramped up further.

He feinted sharply with his aux limbs, but the Humans didn’t even flinch, their gazes locked on Patch’s Human. They were both still edging closer with each moment his attention switched between them, slowly but surely cornering him back against the far wall. Once they had him pinned, one would lunge forward to draw the focus of his attack, and the other would rip Patch’s Human away to be punished.

No. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Back to Plan A, even if the chances of success were much lower without the chaotic element of surprise.

His grip on Patch’s Human began to loosen, his legs bending in preparation to shoot forwards, his sensor lids flicking back as he mentally readied himself for the insane task of trying to keep the two Humans occupied in a fight for as long as he could.

The Humans could see his tension and responded in kind, shoulders lifting and eyes narrowing as the air in the room grew thick with anticipation.

“Guys!” the Human in his arms half-shouted, making Virgil full-body twitch in surprise. “Would everybody please calm down a little?!”

There was a beat of blank silence, and then Roman was the one to open his mouth.

“Patton, you’re being held hostage by an antagonistic alien attacker!” he protested, releasing his coiled up predator posture to gesture with both arms.

It took Virgil a moment to absorb the words, his head still following every motion warily.

Wait, what? Had he heard that right? Was his implant even working?

There was a gentle tap on the back of his hand, the flexed one that was still hovering protectively over Patton’s(?) torso.

“Hey, kiddo?” he started, which had been used enough that Virgil knew it meant him, even though the form of address was coming through the translator as ‘small young one’ (affectionate). “Take a few deep breaths, okay? Everything’s alright, I promise.”

He didn’t really understand the request— nobody used their upper lungs while brawling, and his lower ridgelungs weren’t consciously controlled enough to alter his air intake pattern— but the requesting tone to the Human’s voice was enough to make him drag his primary eyes down to look at him, waiting for elaboration. Was there a plan after all?

“You just got a little startled, huh?” The question seemed to be rhetorical, and Patton patted the back of his hand in a gesture that seemed well-intentioned but meant nothing to him. “Well, you don’t have to be afraid. I know these two knuckleheads, and they aren’t going to hurt me or you.”

If the other two had been waiting for the perfect moment to ambush him, now would be it, because he couldn’t help the way his entire head tilted to face Patton, guardplate shifting back and forth the slightest amount in the most blatant expression of doubt he had. A downright quizzical croon bubbled up in his throat to accompany the look.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” Patton corrected firmly, and Virgil was pretty sure at this point that Humans didn’t have anywhere near the same social hierarchy pair structure that Chelcerae did, but he recognized the steady resolution of a First in that voice nonetheless.

He didn’t bother hiding his reluctance as he slowly released his grip on the Human. He'd always been atrociously bad at taking orders like this, even from his actual First. Patton took a small step forward, looking now at the other Humans, and Virgil pointedly kept his fangs out and venom-flushed.

Roman looked gobsmacked, and Logan’s stare had returned to its usual all-consuming intensity as it flicked between him and Patton.

“They… understood you?” he asked, nearly vibrating with energy. “We’ve been trying to work out the basics of a language structure for weeks, how—?”

Patton’s hands had settled firmly on his hips, his stance pointed enough to definitely signify something loud and clear in Human body language. “Nuh-uh, don’t try to change the subject. I found a whole alien tied up like a pretzel in this barn, we are not playing twenty questions until you two explain why you thought that was a good idea.”

Both of the other Humans looked apprehensive, now.

“They attacked me!” Roman tried with righteous indignation. “And during our first encounter, they almost murdered Lady Macbeth!”

Patton turned enough to look down at Virgil’s feet, and everyone else followed suit, revealing that even in the chaos, Patch had still somehow found a moment to reclaim her favorite perch directly on his feet.

She was bundled up into a resting pose, the one Patton had called a ‘loaf’, and her eyes were half closed in near-sleep. She barely even blinked at all the eyes on her.

In the ensuing silence, her purr was extremely audible.

Patton turned back to Roman, whose face was now looking less grey and more red.

“You didn’t see the mouse toy they skewered,” he muttered mutinously. “And! The Logan they almost-skewered!”

“The bindings weren’t intended to harm them,” Logan added, pushing the bridge of his glasses up a bit. “It was a precautionary safety measure to prevent injury. They really did prove to be actively hostile for our first few interactions, and no initial attempts at communication were successful.”

Patton didn’t seem convinced. “And were these attempts before or after you tied them up?”

Uncharacteristically, Logan looked away.

“They were already handcuffed when we found them,” Roman mumbled, and then, stronger: “They could know where Remus is. We couldn’t just let them go, not when it could mean I’ll never— never see my brother again.”

Even from behind him, Virgil could see the way Patton softened slightly.

“If someone’s in trouble, you help them, you don’t make it worse,” he replied, the sharpness slowly fading from his voice. “I know that you were scared for Remus, Ro. But I bet they were pretty scared, too.”

Roman looked down, because apparently Humans only followed galactic etiquette rules about avoiding direct eye contact when they were experiencing unfortunate emotions.

After a moment, he firmed his shoulders and looked back up, meeting Virgil’s gaze directly for the half-second before he automatically averted it. Luckily, Humans couldn’t track the dark-on-dark of his iris movement very well.

“I’m sorry for frightening you,” Roman said, speaking directly and unmistakably to Virgil. “Pat’s right, we went about this all wrong. I think I already knew from the moment you freaked out about your legs, I just… didn’t know what to do about it without getting skewered, I guess.”

Logan cleared his throat. “It was my idea to restrain their legs. Logically, I thought the concept was sound, but I clearly underestimated both how many nerve endings were attached to them and the psychological effect the action would have. If I’d understood sooner… well. The point is, I apologize as well.”

Virgil felt his sensor eyelids slide slowly over his eyes in blank astonishment. He’d once watched these same two Humans argue all the way to sunset over the best way to arrange the stacks of papers on their table.

And now they were apologizing. To him.

Maybe his Lator implant really was busted.

His guardplate shuttered closed, and when that didn’t manage to convey his dumbfounded silence well enough, he leaned to the side slightly so that Patton was between him and their imploring stares.

What else was he supposed to do?! He had managed two words of Human language semi-comprehensively, and neither of them were particularly useful for this situation.

“I’m so proud of you guys,” Patton enthused, once again securing his position as Best Human by breaking the silence. “I’m sure they’ll say sorry for trying to stab you once they have the right words for it!”

Wait, he had to apologize for pre-emptive defensive stabbing? What kind of Deathworld was this?

“… Um,” Roman replied, sounding just as dubious. “Pat, I’m not entirely sure they can speak in a way we’ll be able to understand.”

Patton tilted his head, an inquiring lilt to his words. “They talked to me, though?”

Virgil wasn’t sure that him mangling the words Patton had said only a few moments before qualified as talking, but the news sent the other two Humans into a frenzy of shocked excitement anyhow.

He blatantly ignored the resulting request for him to talk again. His guardplate was staying firmly in place for at least the rest of the suncycle, his lungs still clenching slightly at the memory of trying to return Patton’s smile earlier.

Patton patted his hand again. “I think they’re shy,” he offered. “Having their teeth visible seemed to make them nervous.”

Logan hummed. “Perhaps the language we’ve been hearing through their… organic mask is easier to form, or more culturally acceptable.”

That mostly depended on which hemisphere of his home planet one was from, but the Human was pretty close. Virgil was impressed.

“So, we have to wait? Or it might not happen again at all?” Roman visibly deflated, his posture sagging miserably. “The only reason I got us all into this mess in the first place was to find Remus, and I still don’t even know if they’ve ever seen him!”

Virgil couldn’t help the telling way his aux limbs flexed in and out, and was abruptly grateful that none of the Humans had gotten that far in interpreting his body language.

The addition of Logan had changed the focus of the Humans’ interest in him, moving from brute force interrogation to trying to understand him well enough to communicate. The tests were so abstract that he’d almost forgotten the origin of Roman’s interest in him.

He still cringed away from the idea of being the one to deliver the news that his clutchmate was definitely far out of reach by now, and probably in the process of being sold into some terrible fate, if he hadn’t been already.

However… If he himself had the chance to learn about Janus, to know for sure what his First had done upon finding Virgil missing and a Human on board as cargo, to find out whether or not he was safe…

He would take it. Of course he would take it. The only thing more painful than knowing was the uncertainty of not knowing.

Besides, Patton probably wouldn’t let Roman bite the head off the messenger.

One distinct step forward (after making sure his feet were cat-free, of course) was enough to draw their eyes to him, and he ignored the reflexive urge to darken his plates as he slowly, painstakingly bobbed his chin up and down. The sensation of his plates scraping edges at the unnatural movement made him grimace slightly, but he was fairly confident that the end result had looked like a nod.

“Yes?” Patton hesitantly translated. “Yes what, buddy?”

He pointed at Roman, who stiffened up with wide eyes.

“Are you— is… is this about Remus?” He sounded a little warbly with emotion already.

Virgil managed another grinding nod, and then gave up and simply ‘nodded’ his closed fist up and down.

“You have seen him?” Another faux-nod, and Roman’s face did something weird and alarming that Virgil had no hope of interpreting. “Where? When? What happened to him, is he okay?”

A completely predictable response, one that Virgil had no way to coherently reply to. His aux limbs pedaled in the air for a moment as he considered his options, and then the answer hit him, so obvious it was embarrassing he hadn’t thought of it immediately.

The Humans trailed after him curiously as he approached the table covered in science equipment. The box shoved into one corner was easy enough to open now that his hands were un-mitted, and he lifted his helmet out triumphantly.

The internal audio system was beyond repair, ripped out first by Virgil’s own teeth and then practically dissected by Logan, but that didn’t matter. The Humans had technology that could record and play audio, and the translator chip plugged inside the helmet was still untouched.

This was their key to two-way communication.

All he needed was some tools, some time, and a really big battery.

#sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #alien au #humans are deathworlders #you cant go back #ycgb #my writing #writing #my time blindness has been insanely bad lately sorry guys

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heyyallitssatan · 1 year

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So I saw a headcanons about Janus being colour blind, and when he lies he can see colour for a minute, but no one else knows about it

So here’s my headcanons for how the dark boyfriends sides found out below the cut

Remus and Virgil were watching Disney conspiracy theories on YouTube when Janus came down to see what all the ruckus was about.

As it turned out they had since moved on from Disney conspiracy theories and were currently watching “Ultimate Trump Fail Compilation”. They were dying of laughter when they noticed Janus standing there staring at them.

They pulled him onto the couch and rewinded to the last clip, and watched Janus as he watched.

He fought back a smirk as he said in his usual deadpan tone, “Well that wasn’t the highlight of my day.”

They died, right then and there, all over again, Janus brand of deadpan sarcasm had always managed to get them going, especially when they were already giggly.

And with that one little lie, Janus saw something he had never seen before; Virgil’s eyeshadow had turned purple.

With every lie that Janus told, he got to experience colour vision for a moment, something he lacked the rest of the time, and given that, along with how little Virgil relaxed enough to make a colour change, this was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Virgil, your eyeshadow, it’s… purple.”

He had scrunched his face up in a look of confusion, something that Virgil’s over analysing brain took to mean he didn’t like it, as such, the eyeshadow started to lose its newfound colour, which Janus didn’t notice, thinking it was just his vision fading.

Remus popped up right in time to almost save it, “Of course it is J-anus”

And in a small, vulnerable voice, Janus asked, “Has it always been purple?” As he looked away from Virgil.

“Of course not Janny, only when he’s happy, and the storm cloud over there doesn’t do that often,” Remus responded, indicating to Virgil, who was still confused and staring silently.

The smallest ‘oh’ escaped his lips, as he stared down at the ground.”

“How could you not know that, it might be rare but he’s done it around us plenty enough for you to notice, I mean, even I did.”

While was faltering for words to write this off, some suave lie that would get him out of this and show him if there were any other colours he had missed Virgil seemed to at least somewhat piece together part of the puzzle.

“…You’ve never seen it change, have you?”

“No.”

“How have you never looked at me long enough to see it?”

“What? No, it’s not that, it’s not that at all, the truth is…”

“Come on Jan, tell us.”

“…I’m not colour blind.”

“Oh Jan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” came from Virgil at the same time as Remus’, “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

“I…don’t know. I just…”

Virgil sighed, “It’s okay Jan, we can talk about it later, for now, let’s just watch the video.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we should do.”

“Ok then, you want to explain?”

“…Yes.”

“C’mon work with us here, we gotta pick something.”

“Yea J-anus, explain, we’re just dying to know,” Remus responded as he mimicked some strange death scene, maybe Romeo?

“Fine…I’m not colour blind, and when I lie I can’t see colour.”

“Oh Jan…”

“Don’t, don’t pity me.”

“It’s not pity J-anus, he’s beating himself up for never realising, something he should stop doing before I turn in a brain eating amoeba a feat all the bad thoughts.”

“You are the bad thoughts?”

“Oh…I’ll eat myself then, starting now!”

“Yes of course Remus, you absolutely should,” Janus drawled out while he pulled Remus’ hand out of his mouth.

The night continued similarly, important conversations being had in between bouts of goofing off, mostly from Remus. He did it whenever one of them started thinking too much, they’d always had a bad habit of that, but it seemed to work, so he kept doing it.

Eventually all of the necessary explanations and talking had happened, and now they had to decide what to do. So naturally they chose for Janus to tell blatant lies over and over, so that he could see different colours they were showing him. It became a game of them describing the colours to him, then showing him, which seemed to make him laugh quite a bit. They also discover that when one of them lied Janus could see their colours, like their hair and clothes.

But of all the talking they had done that night, they had never really brought up Virgil’s eyeshadow again, but it stayed purple the rest of the night, and they realised that the white strike in Remus’ hair could glow radioactive green when he got excited.

At the end of the night, which was actually the beginning of the morning, they had shown Janus all of the colours they could imagine, so they asked him which was his favourite. He responded, in a quiet tired voice while he stared up at them from whatever strange pile they had found themselves in, where limbs went numb and melded together and no one really knew where they ended and someone else began, “Not purple, or green,” in an effort to see them one last time before his eyes finally slipped shut.

Virgil and Remus fell asleep just the same, but not before quietly admitting they they quite like yellow too.

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expolikestoart · 1 year

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@anaroceitweek

#tw snakes #tw spiders #tw eyes #tw religious imagery #tw body horror #anaroceit #anaroceitweek2023 #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #a n y w a y s. it is so fun to draw these hoes.#hellllloooooo monster fuckers. no these are still mostly humanish. yes they still have monster parts.#i have kinda ideas for them but honestly? we'll see how after this week goes.#insanely they remind me of both Good Omens in the story im building in my head and ALSO. the epic of gilgamesh. yes the oldest novel ever.#its s p e c i f i c a l l y for the idea of the intro. the whole deal of.#Gilgamesh was called a god and a man; Enkidu was an animal and a man. It is the story of their becoming human together.#THEYRE BECOMING HUMAN TOGETHER!!!!!!! THAT IS THE POINT. LOVE.#also on the good omens note. they have like. fully hidden; have adjusted to people forms but like. All of them are Disabled. FOR ME.#FOR ME roman is blind in his human (fallen?) form. Janus just doesn't have arms. Virgil has Too Many Senses (autism. just like me fr fr.)#Also virgil has chronic pain but its Mainly projection that could be backed up by angst. janus most likely would too. (falling from heaven?

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mychemicalasexual · 2 years

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I GOT ANOTHER SHIPART DRAWING IN BEFORE I GOTTA GO FOR THE WEEK FUCK YEAH

#i hc they both use reading glasses whilst patton and logan are blind as bats #my art #click for better quality #sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil fanart #virgil sanders fanart #virgil #ts virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts anxiety #prinxiety fanart #ts prinxiety #ts princey #ts roman sanders #roman sanders #roman sanders fanart #ts sanders sides

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icemankazansky86 · 1 year

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Another one

Virgil Adamson (Val Kilmer) | At First Sight

#val kilmer #at first sight movie #at first sight #virgil adamson #90s movies #character sketch #procreate #fanart #my art #ok to reblog #iceman kazansky #iceman top gun #top gun 1986 #blind au

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lily-janus · 1 year

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Someone Like You

Hello everyone! This has been a little bit overdue heh but I'm finally ready to start posting for @tsspromptmonth ! The first few chapters are still not the parts I wrote but the wonderful parts @prince-rowan-of-the-forest wrote! So give them credit for those! I'll be posting a chapter every week, if anyone would like me to tag them to get notified feel free to reach out in the asks or dms^^

Chapter one | next

Summary: after you get into an accident that leaves you with chronic pain and partial blindness and causes you to get bullied and laughed at at school and the only friend you ever had ditches you for the pupolar friend group, you kinda don't really feel like connecting with anyone anymore... even if you do have a crush on them. So, of course, now you're forced to work with them on a project for English class... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: pre romantic Roceit, platonic LAMP

Warnings: bullying, public humiliation, unsympathetic Janus (kinda? He's being mean a lot but it's kinda understandable), misunderstandings, self degrading thoughts, chronic pain, partial blindness, trying to hide your disability, lying, low self esteem, unrequired love(for now), swearing. I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Word count: 2,898

Growing up, Janus had always been different. He liked to hide in the shadows, he lied far more often than was necessary, to the point where the people who knew him knew to take most things he said to mean the opposite, when he wasn’t lying he was either too shy to speak or rude to anyone who bothered trying.

And of course, there was a massive scar across half of his face. Yeah, that was a pretty big one. He’d gotten it during the car accident that killed his mother when he was very young, since then he’d been blind in one eye and had bad vision in the other, his habit of lying had gotten even worse and he often felt terrible pains in his left limbs which the doctor had said may be chronic and probably wouldn’t go away any time soon and no matter how many physio sessions he attended or meds he took the pains never really seemed to leave him alone.

Whenever he went outside people always seemed to stare, odd looks seemed to follow him wherever he went, sympathy was the best he could hope for, pity was the most common, disgust he’d come to expect, hatred towards him just for existing was something he’d gotten used to over the years.

Now, ten years since the accident, he’d gotten used to everything that came from being different. The stares in the school hallways when he used his cane, the angry looks when he bumped into someone on the street, not realising that they were as close as they were, usually when they were on his blind side.

He got angry look after angry look from his teachers when he lied time and time again. The exasperated look his therapist always gave him when he’d come back every week only to report little progress as always.

Unfortunately, now that he was older, a junior in highschool, he was starting to realise there were a few more issues than just the looks and the lies. At the age of seventeen Janus started to notice things. He noticed the two seniors walking arm in arm down the hall. He accidentally walked in on two of his classmates doing the devil’s tango in the bathroom more than once (which had immediately made it onto his short list of reasons he wished he was fully blind, possibly deaf too). He noticed his classmates passing notes in the seats in front of him, the notes adorned with little hearts or smiley faces which made the receiver blush and turn away with a silent giggle.

The romance was everywhere now when it hadn’t been so prominent before, and like a lot of other kids his age, Janus was starting to want it too. The issue he faced was… well who would ever love him?

Of course it was easy to notice the beautiful girls and even more beautiful boys getting together, it was in plain sight, like everyone had suddenly decided to pair off. But he also noticed the kids who didn’t meet society's strict (and stupid, in Janus’ humble opinion) standards for beauty. The girl with acne, the boy who was slightly overweight, the trans girl in his class who hadn’t been able to transition quite yet, the girl who liked to have her hair short and clothes baggy just because. None of those people had been able to pair off, whether they wanted to or not, they sat alone at lunch and in class, they didn’t get invited to parties or get partners for dances.

Janus noticed all this because he was one of those people too. The popular kids would fling insults and slurs at him like he was a witch in a medieval stoning, they would point at him discreetly in the halls and laugh. They'd throw paper balls at the back of his head in class. He'd even been pummelled by a basketball once because kids really didn't know when to stop. He’d had his lunch smacked from his hands, he’d been shoved and pushed and kicked while he was down. Janus knew what it was like, and he knew his crowd.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean his heart would obey him and stick to that crowd.

Because Janus found his eye wandering in class, he couldn’t help the way he was drawn in, like iron to a magnet, and he hated it. He despised the feeling so deeply, because it made him want. It made him want for something he was sure he could never hope to have.

Roman was somehow both a prep and a jock, a theatre kid who always seemed to be the centre of attention in whatever situation he found himself in. Roman was the prime example of the people who bullied him. If someone asked Janus to point out the kind of person who made fun of him in the corridors, he’d tell them ‘people like Roman’ because there he was, strutting down the middle of the corridor with his friends, wearing his custom varsity jacket (with a golden crown and his last name- Prince- printed on the back in gold). They would walk past and people would get out of the way, they would walk into a class and everyone would stare, but never in the same way they stared at him.

Roman might be the prime example of one of his bullies, but funnily enough Roman himself had never done anything to him. At least not in person. Janus had no way of knowing what was said behind his back (a lot was said behind his back) but he did know that Roman had never been the one to throw the basketball, Roman had never shoved him out of the way, he’d never tripped him or smacked his lunch to the floor. In fact, Roman had never interacted with him at all.

And yet for some reason, Janus’ heart longed for him, that glittery eyeshadow, those bright green eyes, his brown hair that seemed to shine red and gold in the light. But despite his own wants he knew it wouldn't happen, he wouldn't even attempt to lie to himself, there was no hope for him.

If anyone asked, which they never did, Janus would say he despised the other boy. Hated the way he leant back on his chair during English class without a care in the world. He would say he hated the way he could hear Roman's melodic laugh over the cacophony of the cafeteria. The way his eye was always drawn to the guy when he acted so perfectly in their drama class. Hated the way Roman’s hair shone shades of rust and gold and brown in the sun, hated the way his green eyes reminded him of a forest in the summer, hated the way he was able to speak loud and free like he’d never experienced a problem in his life.

Roman was so far out of his league they weren't even playing the same sport- or- whatever the hell that idiom was supposed to mean. Not only that but Roman was already taken, by the stupid emo kid who used to be his best friend, in fact.

Used to be his best friend, that is, until Virgil ditched him the moment he got a chance to be part of the cooler group. The moment he realised that Patton didn't mind his dark makeup and Roman found his dark mysterious aesthetic interesting he’d been gone. He had lost his best friend to the popular kids four years ago, it was only last year when the rumours that Roman and Virgil had started dating began to spread and it made Janus' chest ache with jealousy.

But Janus got on with things despite that. He tried not to glance at Virgil when he passed him in the halls, he tried not to stare at Roman during class and when he sat alone at lunch. He tried to keep himself as mysterious and elusive as he could- he didn't talk to anyone if he could help it and when he had to he spoke in backwards riddles and lies, safe to say no-one wanted to be paired with him for group projects.

And then came one horrible day. It had already been an awful day for him already. His scars were acting up, feeling like they were pulled tight and they itched- they itched so badly despite the lotions and oils he had to put on them every morning. On top of that he'd forgotten both his hat and his glasses when he'd ran out of the house late and he'd been tripped in the corridor twice, it was only his second lesson of the day.

Janus wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor as their teacher went on and on about something or another that he'd catch up on later because he could never focus when he was around other people even when he could actually see what was on the screen. That was until he heard those dreaded words.

"You'll be doing this homework project in pairs!" Their teacher announced and Janus could practically feel the eyes land on him before people glanced away to look at their friends, wondering who would be unlucky enough to end up with him this time.

"Can we choose our own partner?" A girl asked, her voice quiet and tentative as if she didn't want to give the teacher the idea she was hoping the answer would be yes.

The class held their breaths in wait for the answer. The teacher's simple yes or no answer would determine what happened next. If she said yes it would be a chaotic scramble to pair up, a race not to be the last person left without a partner. Because of course the last person to find a partner would end up with Janus.

"No," She said, and now all the class could do was hope, "I’ve bade a list of your partner assignments, please find your name on here and move to sit next to your partner,"

Janus just stayed where he was. He couldn't see the list without his glasses anyway and whoever was his partner would come and sit next to him eventually, probably after asking the teacher if they could switch. Meanwhile Janus looked down at the sheets in front of him, trying to work out though blurry vision and painful scars what the hell they had been learning about.

"Hey," Someone said, sitting down next to him, "You're Janus, right? I'm your partner,"

Janus just hummed, he didn't bother to look up, if he waited long enough maybe his partner would just give up and decide to get on with it by themself.

"Um- I don't think we've ever talked before, but I'm Roman, Prince," He said, Janus' head snapped up and he blinked rapidly, hoping his eyes would actually give him a clearer picture for omce. It really was Roman, honestly fuck him. The universe really seemed to hate him today, "Nice to meet you?"

"Oh won't this be fun," Janus said quietly, he didn't have the energy to muster his usual snippy tone, push him away, his brain said, there's no point in even trying, "Stuck with the class pretty-boy,"

"You will have a month to complete the project," The teacher announced, interrupting whatever taunt or jab Roman probably had prepared for him, a month, seriously? "And I expect you to work with your partner outside of class for this project, I will not be giving you time during classes after today to work on this,"

"Fantastic," Janus said, completely deadpan, he could already hear whispers from other pairs, people pitying Roman for getting stuck with him, but Roman didn't seem to notice in the slightest, he simply placed a notebook on the table and grabbed a pen- a sparkly red glitter gel pen with a plume of tinsel coming from the top- before turning to him again.

"So… any ideas of what we could do?" Roman asked, looking at him with a smile, it was sweet of him to try, Janus thought. He'd give up eventually, just like anyone else.

"I totally know exactly what we're supposed to be doing right now," Janus answered, hand subconsciously going to scratch at the spot by his ear where scar tissue met skin. He grimaced when a nail caught on the rough skin, causing a sharp yanking pain and suddenly he was once again reminded of why he wasn't supposed to scratch the scars. He picked up a pen and began to twirl it instead.

"We're making a project in the format of our choice based around Macbeth," Roman explained with a little bit of a laugh in his voice, Janus sighed, it sounded like a lot of work- and it meant that Janus would actually have to read the Shakespeare play, damn, "So… any ideas of what we could do? It doesn't seem very limited, as long as it's based on the play, so…"

"Nope, no ideas at all," Janus said, flicking his pen effortlessly over his fingers now. He did have an idea or two, but he really didn't feel like sharing, just thinking about Roman made him want to shrivel up and die, let alone being open towards the guy.

"Oh- well that's ok," Roman said with a smile that Janus was certain was forced, even though he couldn’t see, any smile directed at him was usually forced, "Hey- um- here, I'll give you my phone number so we can work out a time to work on this ok?"

"Right," Janus said, taking the paper Roman offered him a moment later. He only fumbled a little bit.

"So I thought it would be fun to do something creative! Like.. we could rewrite the script but modernised! Or- hm- what if we filmed it like a movie?"

"We have a month to do this and you expect us, two highschoolers with zero experience, one of whom can barely move at the best of times, to be able to make a whole movie?" Janus asked, staring at Roman in genuine shock. He shrugged.

"I don't see why not!" He huffed, and, ok, so this guy was delusional, Janus could… probably work with that? "Unless you don't like the idea of course, I believe we could do it,"

"Alright sure, say I was ok with this completely rational idea, where the hell would we film it? On what equipment?" Janus said, glaring at him.

"Well…" Roman said, thinking, "Me and you would obviously act- and don't say you can't act because I've seen you in drama, you do well when you're not paired with someone who's an asshole,"

Janus just stared at him, Roman actually knew he existed? Let alone remember him?

"I could find somewhere for us to film, we just need some kind of castle-ish place… maybe we could use a church? And as for filming… I think my dad might have a tripod? We can just use one of our phones or something…"

"I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to this," Janus sighed, "Can't we just make a stupid PowerPoint slide like normal people,"

"We could," Roman said, before smiling, "But that would be dreadfully boring, wouldn't it?"

Janus just hummed and tried to hide a smile. He looked at his notebook, going to begin writing down plans for their project before realising that oh yeah, his vision was still too blurry to see anything in enough detail to write legibly. He sighed and looked back over at Roman, who was still watching him.

"Is everything alright?" Roman asked, he must've noticed Janus pause.

"I'm fine," Janus said, on instinct at this point, closing his book, "We should plan in your notebook,"

"Oh, ok!" Roman said, shrugging as he turned to a new page in his notebook, flicking the lid off of his gel pen and writing, in big enough letters to make out "Macbeth The Movie" in swirling fancy cursive the middle of the page and underlining it. Underneath he wrote some more things, but Janus couldn't make them out.

"You do realise this play is five acts long, don't you?" Janus asked as Roman scribbled down some more stuff on the next page, before looking up.

"Yeah? So?" Roman asked.

"It has over two hours of runtime," Janus said slowly, hoping to guide Roman into realising what an immense and stupid project this would be.

"And?"

"Hollywood films of the same length can take years to film," Janus reasoned, talking slowly.

"We can do this, Janus!" Roman said firmly, determination in his voice, "No need to be so gloomy! We're not Hollywood, we don't need fancy costumes or scriptwriting or anything! It won't take as long as that!"

"Your endless optimism already astounds me…." Janus muttered, beginning to pack away his things. “I suppose we can try, at least.”

"Just text me," Roman said with a smile that, for some reason, seemed genuine, "We can meet up later to plan this out properly,"

Janus just nodded as the bell rang before standing up and heading for the door, silently praying that he wouldn't be tripped again, not here, not in front of his stupid stupid crush who for some reason was actually being nice to him

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