#human moxiety
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lefaystrent · 10 days ago
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In the Frostweald Forest
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Pairings: platonic Moxiety, Patton/Virgil
Summary: On the night that Patton overhears that his parents intend to sell him to pay off their exorbitant debts, he runs away to a place where no one will be able to find him.
A cursed wood of eternal winter awaits.
AO3 Link: click here
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On the night that Patton overhears that his parents intend to sell him to pay off their exorbitant debts, he runs away to a place where no one will be able to find him.
The pine forests outside of his village are cursed. As the story goes, an elemental behemoth known as Errevon invaded through a rift from the Elemental Plane of Ice. Along with his army and a white dragon, Errevon sought to encase the continent in an eternal winter. Stories say he even constructed a towering ice citadel in the middle of the continent to act as his fortress. But the elves of Syngorn and the dwarves of Kraghammer allied with humans for the first time, and they beat him and his army back and closed the rift.
Hundreds of years later, the scars remain.
Most of the year, the Frostweald Forest is blanketed in snow. Even in the summer months, the woods are home to a bitter cold. And if that isn't enough to deter people from traversing inwards, the monsters would make any fool regret entering.
Patton wonders what monsters he may encounter as he crunches through the thin-layer of snow in the dead of night. His boots slip on frost patches occasionally, and he struggles with the rucksack hanging from his shoulder. He doesn't know why he brought supplies, as if he actually thinks he'll survive out here for longer than a day. He's never set foot within the Frostweald. Most sane people don't.
He doesn't feel entirely sane at the moment. He tried to be a good son. He thought his efforts counted for some measly crumb of worth. That if they could not love him as parents should, that he could still find ways to not be a burden.
Instead, he overheard that he is worse than a burden. He is collateral.
Selling people isn't legal. He could have gone to the authorities. But the thought that no one would believe him... Or if his parents managed to sell him before that, and what these unknown people would do to him...
If Patton is to suffer or die, he will choose how. Of course, maybe he doesn't have to die. Maybe he could have run to a different city. He envisions the relief of making it to the coast and bargaining for passage on a ship to flee the continent. He could start a new life abroad.
The thoughts, imaginary or not, melt into his bones thick and heavy. What could have been meets reality. It croons in his ears and tells him to just stop walking. Lay down on the cold, wet ground and let the forest eat him alive. What good can someone like him do anyway? Isn't that why he came here instead?
And yet, he walks on, a meager sack on his shoulders and a weary hope in his heart.
***
Surprisingly, Patton survives more than a day.
Most of the snow thaws gently in the high noon sunshine. The wind remains, lashing at Patton's face and surely turning them ruddy. He tugs his threadbare coat close and minds where he walks, wary of stepping on more mundane dangers such as sinkholes or snakes. The more prevalent dangers prowl more openly, and Patton is quick to duck and hide when he catches sight of beasts. He crawls into rotting logs or burrows into dead leaves. Anything to mask his presence.
A couple of times, he spies humanoid figures walking through the brush. He can't be sure what they are. They could be fae. There's a portal to the Feywild said to be lurking within these woods. Patton shudders to think what they would do to him if they found him, or if he accidentally fell into the portal. He pays special attention to erasing his breath in those moments.
Stay still. Stay quiet. Stay alive.
The woods are barren of signs of life. Not because nothing is living out here, but because all the prey know better. Birds do not sing, and the fear of discovery discourages Patton from so much as humming. The incredible hush could make a whisper sound loud. It's not all bad though. Aside from the eeriness, the forest is beautiful in its own way. He likes the large pine trees and holly bushes and snowdrops. He finds edible berries, or he thinks they're edible, and he collects them as he goes and hopes it doesn't kill him later.
Eventually, he comes across a spider's den. It's a large cavern entrance draped in gossamer webs. With the size and volume of the silky strings, Patton thinks there must be either one huge spider or numerous small ones. Perhaps both. Either instance is nightmare fuel.
The most crucial observation is that the area around here is relatively bereft of other creatures. It could be that this is the biggest predator in the vicinity and everyone else acknowledges that this is its territory. It's almost peaceful here. It would be nice if Patton could ask the spider if he could move in next door. He would promise to be as unobtrusive as possible, if he could just have a safe little hidey hole to live in.
Patton nearly laughs. If he so much as looked at the spider, he would run screaming. Nothing scares him more in this world than creepy crawlies that have too many legs.
It goes to show you though, how different you think you would react in a situation versus how you actually do react.
Because the spider returns to its nest while Patton hides in the bushes nearby debating his next move. It is tall, at least by ten feet, probably more, and even wider. Its legs bend and move in hairy symmetry. And the oddest part is that it's not completely spider. Atop the front, the spider's body changes into a human torso, arms, and head. It's a pale human top with a black spider bottom. It's an intriguing horror and Patton can't tear his eyes away.
The spider person walks towards the cave entrance, unhurried and carrying a bundle of something in its arms. Their arms? Could this be a regular person that was cursed? Or maybe it's a creature from the Feywild. Can they talk? How intelligent can they be? What does something like that eat?
As Patton contemplates, his body-which he had been so observant in not moving a muscle-betrays him and he sneezes before he can smother the action.
The spider startles and drops the bundle. It hits the ground with a weak thud, like cloth or similar material. The face, a human face, looks in Patton's direction. And their eyes– Gods above, there are too many eyes– they look at Patton, straight at him, and there's realization igniting there.
Patton's cover is blown. He can't find the will to scream or run or plead for his life. If the spider person were to charge him and cut him down, he would go into death silently.
But the spider doesn't charge at Patton. They skitter back, almost diving into the cover of the cave before remembering their bundle and freezing for a moment. Two moments. Glancing between Patton and the bundle as if weighing their options. Then the third moment hits and they scurry forward again to snatch it up and dart away, disappearing into its own hidey hole.
Patton lingers for a while. A part of him is convinced that if he doesn't move, that means he was never seen. Mostly though, Patton runs the memory of the incident over and over in his mind.
Why did the spider person look so scared?
***
Against his better judgement, Patton does in fact set up camp in the spider creature's territory.
There's a lot of reasons he justifies it. Again, he tells himself that this could potentially be safer than other areas of the forest. If he can just stay hidden from the spider, then he won't have to worry about anything else in the spider's territory. Another reason he thinks is that at least this monster is half human. Half-people can be reasoned with, right? More so than full monsters. If Patton is confronted, he might can plead his case. Better yet, maybe Patton can prove useful to the creature in some way? Failing that, the spider probably won't eat him, just drain his blood. That would be a kinder death than most out here.
But the real reason? Patton is curious.
Does the spider person live alone? How long have they lived out here? Do they get cold? Or lonely? Can they talk? Why didn't they hurt Patton? Why did they look at him like that?
As the days pass, Patton theorizes on the spider's existence. It's a lovely distraction from the cutting cold and aching hollowness inside. Patton is not brave enough to confront the spider and confirm his theories. But he can still think about it all he likes.
The spider either does not realize Patton has become their neighbor or doesn't care enough to do anything about it. Patton found an outcropping of rock that buffers nicely against the wind, and it's hidden enough amongst the vegetation. No critters or spiders alike have bothered him, so maybe it's simply that well-hidden.
Patton eats the berries he collected and doesn't die. He finds a freshwater stream with fish and constructs a trap to nestle in the current. He finds some regular animals trapped in webs. Patton doesn't touch the fresh ones, but the ones already drained of blood? He figures their bodies have been abandoned and should not go to waste. He skins hides from deer and rabbits, and he breaks off antlers to use for crafting.
He survives.
He survives until he feels like he wants to live again.
There is plenty of timber around to use for construction. Patton brought a few tools from home and there are some he's made here. He stays busy by building small pieces of furniture to make life a little more hospitable. And when he's not doing that, he whittles. It's something that he did before, to calm himself, and it's a good reminder that he can find beauty anywhere.
Patton carves a little wolf statue. It's howling at an unseen moon, and he wishes he could at least paint it, but he's proud of it regardless.
Throwing caution to the icy wind, Patton takes the wolf to the spider's den and leaves it outside the entrance. The spider doesn't see him this time, or if they do, they certainly don't come out. Patton hopes that they may accept his offering as a sign of peace.
Occasionally, Patton does see the spider out of their cave. It's inevitable; he's in their territory after all. Patton never forgets this fact. Constantly, he checks over his shoulder for danger. If not from the spider, there are rare instances where neighboring monsters encroach. Patton becomes and expert at hiding and holding his breath. No one seems to notice him. The spider doesn't look his way again.
Patton shapes a duck figurine next. Then a moose. Then a bear. Pretty much going from animal to animal. He continues to take stupid risks and leave them outside the spider's den.
Notably, Patton never glimpses his previous gifts. They are always gone the next time he sneaks by with the next one.
When Patton goes to sleep at night, he likes to think that the spider has collected them all and keeps them on a shelf somewhere. He wonders if the spider looks forward to each new one as much as Patton enjoys leaving them. And on the nights he lays awake, when the shivering becomes too much and his teeth chatter so hard they rattle his skull, and when the hollowness eats him from the inside out, he weeps alone and imagines the spider as a friend who would spare him a kind word or two.
***
Weeks into his new existence, Patton discovers his generosity repaid.
He's just returning from a successful trip to the river. He's been gone awhile. Although the stream isn't that far, it's made more difficult to get there while trying to stay as stealthy as possible. Patton doesn't mind the difficulty. He's not got much else going on in his life. Nothing to rush back home to. No one to miss him.
As he approaches his camp sight, he notices something shiny hanging from a tree limb. It's almost directly in front of where he ducks to pass into his hidey hole of a home. There's no more prominent spot that a person can pick that screams, "Hey, look at me!"
Patton looks to find that the shiny thing is a necklace. The necklace string is some kind of strong, smooth white fiber, and the adornments hanging from it are a series of small rocks. Some of them are gemstones, an emerald here, a sapphire there, while the rest are unidentifiable, yet very pretty stones. It's not the kind of jewelry Patton would normally see people wear, well-off people or otherwise. There's no real design to it other than a bunch of pretty rocks strung together with no rhyme or reason.
It's absolutely gorgeous and Patton adores it.
He begins wearing it every day. The stones click wonderfully together against his collar, muted under the cover of his shirt, and they are smooth under his hands whenever he fiddles with them or simply holds them for comfort. If there are any illusions as to the purpose behind the necklace and why it was left for him, they are dispelled as Patton finds more items. He leaves his camp, or he goes to sleep, and whenever he returns or awakens, he'll find there at the same pine tree a silk embroidered scarf, or fur lined coat, or a basket of fresh strawberries.
There's only one entity that Patton is aware of that shares a home in this area of the woods. One that could move about this frequently in the spider's territory. The spider themself may never have been seen leaving the gifts there, but Patton knows in his heart that it must be them. Patton's carved figurines were not a waste of effort. They did not disappear in disdain. They were cherished so much that the spider wanted to return the favor.
Patton accepts the gifts with dizzying happiness. He keeps the cycle going and leaves the spider a miniature rocking horse. The spider next leaves a bundle of flowers that could not possibly have grown in the Frostweald.
The next step would be to thank the spider in person, but Patton isn't brave enough for that yet.
But maybe one day, he will be.
***
The night before an incoming storm, Patton finds one of his most favorite gifts: a practical, yet beautiful blanket. It's a lovely work of crochet, black and white diamonds stitched on the top of it and smooth and soft to the touch. Underneath is fluffy wool lining. It's wonderfully thick and warm, and it fills Patton's heart with joy that someone is looking out for him.
He pictures it, the spider looking up to the skies, seeing the clouds loom overhead and the winds picking up. How the temperature already drops at an alarming rate, and the spider surveying it worriedly while thinking of what they can do to keep their human neighbor comfortable through the storm. Because a storm is surely approaching. Patton's shelter has improved by leaps and bounds these past weeks, but the weather has been admittedly docile. He's not sure how it'll hold up against bludgeoning gusts of ice. The blanket will make things more bearable, certainly. He will have to make something extra special next to repay his friend.
Shortly after nightfall, the winds begin to howl and something patters the ground outside. Tiny flecks of hail at first that seem to grow in size, the weight of them intimidating in their clamor. Patton doesn't dare peek out to confirm it, but he can hear it well enough. He hunkers down deeper in his coat, his scarf folded around his face, and curls up into a ball under the wool blanket and various other hides he's made a pallet from.
It's freezing, brutally so. This is by far the coldest night he's experienced thus far in the forest. It will be a long night of shivering with no rest. He even made sure to eat and drink very little before bunking down for the night. He would hate to have to take care of bodily needs somehow in the middle of all this.
There's a makeshift door that Patton built a while back to fit the entrance. Another animal hide has been utilized to cover one side of it, twine sewn in to tie it to the surface in hopes that the cold air cannot seep through. The wind beats against the structure now, and Patton prays it will hold. It's already tough enough. He's scared he'll be at risk of hypothermia if the door flies off.
Much like most nights, Patton takes solace in thoughts of his spider friend. He wonders how they are fairing through the storm. Do they get cold? Do they get scared? What does the inside of their cave home look like? Is it safe? Is it warm?
Patton wishes at times like these he could cast magic. Not many people in his village could, but a few could do some cantrips. Minor spells that could change their eye color or snuff out a candle. There was one girl who lived there for a few years as the carpenter's apprentice, and she could make little flowers and fruit grow out of nothing. She gave Patton a handful of grapes. It was the first and last time he had tasted them.
Strange that he thinks of home fondly in times like these. There were simple comforts and brief acts of kindness that Patton treasured. He wouldn't be wishing he could summon fire if he had a proper hearth. Maybe being sold to slavers wouldn't have been so bad, if they at least gave him access to a fireplace.
Patton chuckles. Is that all it would take for his resolve to crack?
No, he's just miserable right now, that's all.
And in that misery, he hears something awful that has him bolting upright on his pallet.
It's an echoing cry that breaks the night and overcomes the sound of wind and ice. It is haunting as it is terrifying. Patton has never heard such a sound. He can't fathom what it could be until after it stops and starts again.
Wolf. The wind isn't the only thing howling out there. But what could make one sound like that?
Patton wraps his blankets more securely around himself, but he can't manage to settle his nerves enough to lay back down. He sits perfectly still, ears prickling and waiting for each throaty howl. It's far enough away. The bad monsters don't come this close in. Maybe it's just a wolf that got lost in the storm. Maybe nothing will come of this and Patton will laugh about it later.
Many scenarios drift in his head. It's deep into the night, his body is exhausted from all the shivering, and it's scarily easy to dissociate from what's actually happening. He fully believes for a few minutes that it's just a wolf that got caught in one of the spider's web traps. Sad though it is, that is life. Patton wishes though that the poor creature didn't have to be trapped out in the storm. The cold would kill it before the spider could.
But alertness comes crashing back into focus when the howling cry comes much closer. It is not a distant thing anymore. Patton can hear the rough low growls of an animal hunting. He can hear a body stalking through the brush. He listens in abject fear as it creeps closer and closer...
A sharp bark just outside his door has Patton flinching. It's right out there. It sounds big and snarling, voice guttural and angry. No, not angry. Hungry. It's rummaging around for food outside. How can it be so brazen in a storm like this? Why isn't it finding shelter to wait out the storm? Why can't Patton be left in peace?
Answers don't come. They're not important anyway, in the scheme of things. What matters is that a snuffling has begun at his door. Something wicked is on the other side, sniffing him out, and Patton has never been so panicked since coming to this cursed forest.
Adrenaline pumping, Patton shucks off his blankets and grabs his axe. He doesn't truly think he can fight anything off with success, nor does it make him feel much better to be armed. But his body moves on its own and seeks out safety. He stands up as much as he can in the limited space. He won't die sitting down, at least.
To Patton's horror, he sees a glow emanate around the door. The pitch-black space is invaded by pale blue light. A cracking, shifting, breaking– what is going on? Something forms around the door, geometric shapes in the crevices, jutting out and expanding up the walls. It's loud and jarring and cold. So cold. Patton can see his breath now.
It's ice. Whatever the wolf creature is, it has power over ice.
Oh. No wonder it's fine being out in the storm.
Patton realizes this just as something barrels into the door, sharp and swift. The hide tears and the wood of the door caves in halfway. Patton grips the handle of the axe grimly and watches a second battering enough to splinter the door completely into pieces.
It's indeed a wolf, the largest Patton has ever seen. Its head is as tall as Patton. The strong, thick muscles are encased in white fur with more glowing ice shards growing out. Icicles hang from its open jaw, and the teeth appear to be the length of Patton's forearm, maybe longer. It happens so fast, and his fright is certainly skewing things out of proportion. But there is a very real threat that has broken into his home and wishes to eat him.
The wolf growls.
Patton doesn't hesitate. He lunges and embeds the blade of the axe into one of its gleaming blue eyes.
The beast roars and Patton can feel it reverberate in his chest. The head rears back in pain and the axe is jerked out of Patton's hands, the metal left sunk into the eye socket. He is weaponless now, and his gloved hands are spattered in freezing blood. It's so cold that it burns him, causing him to have to swiftly shed them.
Luckily, the wolf was not expecting its prey to bite back. It's either wounded enough or startled enough to back off and clear the entrance. Wind sweeps through, Patton barely feeling it against his chilled skin. The wolf could duck back inside at any second, and his home is already compromised.
Patton let's instinct take over. He scoops up his whittling knife and races outside into the hailstorm. Immediately he is pelted with balls of ice, and the larger pieces thunk harshly against his head, but it's a small matter. Thankfully, the wolf illuminates the space enough that Patton knows exactly where its hulking form writhes in pain. It's pawing at its face, and out here in the open, it seems so much bigger and more threatening.
Into the dark Patton runs. There's no other choice. Either he stays and dies, or he flees and perhaps escapes with his life. The wolf could lose interest now. It could possibly be more concerned with the axe in its eye, giving Patton time to escape.
But he's just not that lucky. The beast gives chase with thunderous steps, paws hammering in a thrumming cadence. The glow catches up but is too dim to light the way for him. Patton is still running blindly into the forest, praying every step that he doesn't slip or faceplant into a tree. Desperation fuels him, and the muscles in his legs burn as he gives sprinting his all. He feels like he's flying.
The wolf is faster. Patton's only warning is a coughing huff before claws shred down his back. Patton gasps soundlessly. It's sharpness and fire and cold cold cold. He can't tell if he's bleeding or how much. He hears the fabric of his wonderful coat tearing. The air rapidly numbs the exposed skin. Perhaps if it were warmer, he could feel the extent of the damage. The numbness gives him the edge to react.
Although he stumbles, Patton uses his momentum to spin around. In one motion, he brings the knife up in both hands, striking upwards and predicting that the wolf would be closing in.
His fast judgement pays off. The knife pierces the furry flesh of his tormentor, close enough to the neck that there would be volleys of blood were Patton to yank out the knife. He doesn't. Though it would do more damage and he could keep the weapon, he can't risk more of the freezing blood on his hands. If his fingers freeze too stiff to move, it won't matter if he keeps a knife. So he pushes it in as deep as it can go, aided by the wolf lunging forward, and he releases it as soon as he can to try to push away.
Patton cries out as the wolf manages to clamp its jaw around his shoulder at the same time. There will be holes in his coat, and Patton can feel the pointed edges piercing his skin, but it could have been deeper had he not been wearing the coat or ruined the wolf's attack by injuring it. As it is, the wolf releases Patton almost as soon as it's bitten him. It yelps and shuffles away, shaking its head now with two weapons sticking out of it.
Patton doesn't wait for it to recover. He spins on his heel and dives into the dark. He runs and runs until his lungs threaten to collapse. He knocks into pine branches, and he slips on ice and crawling roots alike. He can't stop though. He has no time to assess the damage. He jumps up and keeps running.
The glow doesn't follow him this time. It's awhile before he notices or realizes that the only sounds he can decipher is the wheezing of his own haggard breaths.
Still he runs, unable to shake the feeling that he is being chased. Where is he going? He doesn't know. He just wants to feel safe.
He smacks into a tree, not a pine this time. It's one with a thick trunk and low hanging, hardy branches. Patton can't keep running like this. He grabs hold of the branches and climbs. It takes precious, teeth-chattering minutes. His fingers can barely keep ahold. His legs are like jelly, struggling to support him. The air hurts his throat and aches in his chest, and he wants to give up, but he doesn't until he cannot find any more branches within reach.
In the darkness, he can't tell how high he's ascended, but he's sure a fall would be fatal. He lays on his belly and wraps his arm around the branch underneath him. There, he breathes and breathes until he wants to sob.
He's lost his home again.
He's bleeding, but it's so cold he can't tell how bad it is. There's a tackiness on his back that pulls when he moves. The torn strands of his coat are probably stuck to the wounds in a layer of ice. He whimpers but won't be able to do anything about it until the sun rises.
He will die from blood loss or the cold before then.
Patton sheds no tears, but his heart weeps all the same.
***
It is a grueling night.
Patton cannot genuinely think of a worst night in his life. For hours, he slips in and out of consciousness. He tries not too. You're not supposed to fall asleep in the cold like this. He moves his limbs as much as possible to keep the blood flowing. He hides his freezing hands in his sleeves or brings them to his neck. Anything that will keep the frostbite away.
At one point, he jerks awake, breathing rapidly and convinced he was nearly slipping into death. He sits up after that and leans against the trunk. His back is stiff, as well as hot and cold at the same time. He leans more on his shoulder in an awkward pose. If he survives, he'll probably die from infection anyway. How funny would that be?
The wolf never returns. Patton idly wonders if it died or lost interest. He used to love dogs. He'll never be able to look at one the same way again.
He drifts like that for hours, lost in thoughts that he can barely hold on to. The storm eases over time. Patton opens his eyes to snowfall. Huh, the sky is lighting up.
He's laying down again on his stomach next time he opens his eyes. He wonders why he's bothering. He's going to die here. Can't he just go peacefully?
Something rustles in the forest. It must be what woke him. It's an odd sound that rushes over the forest floor. Kind of light and almost silent, were it not in such a hurry. Maybe someone was late for breakfast? What a weird thought...
Patton hears it again but closer. He opens his eyes and blinks to clear away the blurriness. There, about a hundred feet away or so, is the spider.
Patton smiles. He thought he would never see his friend again. At least he gets to see him before he goes.
The spider is bolting through the trees, kicking up pine needles as they go. Their legs march in tandem, a flurry of spindly crooked things, moving with haste. Where is the spider going? Patton will never know. The spider leaves seconds later and Patton wants to giggle.
Later, Patton is roused again by the same sound. The spider has come back. He doesn't know how long has passed. Could be minutes or hours. The morning light isn't much brighter. It must be cloudy. The snow continues to fall and a blanket of white covers the earth.
The spider whips their head around, searching. Their dark hair slaps against their face. They dart closer than before, and their many eyes investigate something that Patton cannot see. The spider crouches at intervals, sweeping the snow away, searching... But they don't find what they're looking for, or they're in too much of a rush to look properly. They skitter off to another spot. They look behind a tree, pry back the gnarled mass of a dead bush. Their pace increases in their frantic need.
Patton thinks about calling out and asking what they're doing. He might could startle the spider, at this rate. So far, the spider hasn't seemed to notice him, not looking up much.
But the spider leaves again and Patton has waited too late.
Patton begins crying for real now. Why didn't he just say something? Can he still not trust the half-creature? Does he not consider them a friend? What does he have to lose now?
Nothing. He is nothing and he has nothing and he will die with nothing.
"Please," Patton whimpers from chapped lips. It's too late now, but he calls out anyway. "Please... don't go... please."
He thinks of his parents who would not love him. They raised him. They knew him. And they chose not to love him.
Does the spider have parents? Does the spider have anyone? Have they ever known love, or are they as lonely as Patton?
If Patton could have one wish, he would have been braver from the start.
"I'm sorry...please..."
The patter of legs dance across the ground. The spider breaks through the trees with renewed energy and looks all around in a frenzied state.
Patton sobs out, "Don't go."
His voice is thin and weak to his own ears. Somehow though, the spider hears him instantly. They snap back their head and their eyes meet. Patton is brought back to the first time, weeks ago, or months now? When they first met. The spider had been scared.
The spider is still scared. They stop short and survey the surroundings before looking over Patton again. He can feel those eyes gazing up and down his body. Does he look as banged up or frozen as he feels? Does he look tasty?
Whatever internal struggle the spider wars with, they come to a decision. A couple of slow steps forward, at first, and then they are racing over to clamber up the tree. It's pretty impressive how elegant the spider makes it look. All too soon the human half hovers over Patton while the spider legs stick to the trunk.
"Please," Patton asks. He doesn't know whether he's asking to be spared or have his suffering ended.
The spider's eyes, eight of them– they are not so dark from this close up. They're amethyst colored and reflect in a way that make them shimmer softly. They're pretty actually.
The spider's mouth moves, forming words that Patton cannot hear. There are fangs peeking out behind the human lips. They don't seem so scary after the wolf's toothy maw.
Patton doesn't respond and the spider seems to come to their own conclusion. They shrug off a jacket (oh, they're wearing a jacket! How did Patton miss that?) and they swaddle it over Patton. Patton doesn't flinch as it touches the wounds on his back. He can't feel much now.
The spider slips their arms under Patton, maneuvering him until he rolls carefully over into the spider's chest. The spider wears a long sleeved purple shirt. Patton's cheek presses against the material, and underneath he feels the shocking warmth of the spider.
Patton shivers briefly and goes all the way limp. When did he stop shivering? That's not a good sign. Neither are the black spots swimming in his vision.
The spider's lips move again and they're looking down at Patton with a pinched expression. They're worried. That's sweet.
A subtle roaring stuffs up Patton's ears. It clouds his mind. The world fuzzes over, and soon he knows no more.
***
When Patton wakes again, he is buried beneath a mound of blankets. It's beyond soft and warm. Too warm. He sweats lightly, and he shifts in discomfort followed by a stretching pain in his back. He whines once and stops moving. Moving equals bad and he's so tired.
"Are you okay?"
The voice is gravelly and low like it's unused to speaking, but it is without a doubt another person's voice. It has been a terribly long time since Patton has heard someone else's voice or had a conversation. As tired as he is, he forces his eyes open.
He's in some kind of room. It's dark but there's a gentle orange light spilling out from a fireplace. No wait, that's not fire. It's crystals. There are orange crystals, a glob of them really, sitting in a recess in the wall. Patton can feel heat emanating from that direction, so they must be enchanted. Convenient.
He's laying nearby on a pallet of blankets and animal hides. There's a pillow under his head, a luxury he hasn't had in a long time. He's on his stomach to avoid further irritation to his back.
His savior comes into view. It's the spider. They stand nearby but not too closely. The eyes are making new iridescent colors as they reflect the crystal light. Their fingers pick at their sharp nails, and a fang peeks out to bite at their lip.
"Where am I?" Patton asks. His mouth is dry as dust and he must make a face because the spider turns to a table and picks up a clay cup. They lean down, offering it.
"You're...in my home. You're safe, I promise. I won't hurt you."
Patton doesn't think he has any fear of that anymore. He wouldn't be waking up in such a nice setting, if not. Plus, the spider has that scared look again.
Patton wordlessly sits up slowly, panting through the effort, and takes the cup. The spider let's him take his time and steps back several steps. They wait while Patton sips long pulls at the drink. It's water. Just water.
Patton stares into the remaining liquid. He tips the cup around to see it spin and slosh. "I thought I was going to die," Patton says in wonder.
"You almost did," the spider agrees.
Curious, Patton glances down at himself. His torso and shoulder are bare, save for bandages. His coat is nowhere to be seen. It had been a gift. It had been one of his favorite gifts. It was probably ruined and discarded.
That more than anything has Patton sniffling into his cup.
The spider jolts. "What is it? Are you hurting? What's wrong?"
Patton chokes on a bout of tears pitifully. "My coat..."
"Your...coat?" they echo. They tilt their head in jerky movements, similar to a bird.
"It's gone," Patton mourns.
The spider hurries around the chamber and brings back a bundle of fabric. The familiar weight of his coat is laid half in his lap.
"It's right here," the spider assures him. "It's not clean though."
"It's torn," Patton cries. Why can't he stop crying? It's just a coat.
The spider waves their hands in the air uselessly. "It's okay, I can fix it, just please don't cry. I don't know what I'm doing as it is. Just tell me what you want to make it better."
That gives Patton pause. He looks up at the tall figure. The irony is not lost on Patton, that the spider can crush him like a bug. And yet, in the face of a crying human, the spider balks.
"You can fix it?" Patton asks.
The spider nods emphatically and bends lower, trying to make themself smaller. "Yeah, I can fix it. And even if I can't, I'll just make you another one like it. How does that sound?"
Patton's lip wobbles. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve such kindness. He wipes at his eyes. "You...gave it to me. Didn't you?"
The spider hesitates at first, but nods eventually.
Patton grips onto the coat. He pulls it closer, protectively. "I want to keep it...if that's possible. I kept all of your gifts."
The spider perks up. "You did?"
"Yeah. I love them."
"You do?"
His lips twitch into a smile. "Yeah, I really do."
The spider lets out a chorus of clicks, entirely inhuman. They falter and turn away, hiding their face under their bangs, as if embarrassed at the sound. One of the spider legs rubs against another, and Patton thinks it might be a nervous habit.
"Do you have a name?" the spider asks. "Humans have names, right? Do you have one?"
"I do. It's Patton."
"Patton," the spider repeats and clicks again. Their mouth splits into a fangy grin, so Patton concludes it's a happy sound. "I wondered... It's nice. Uh, it's a nice name. My name is Virgil."
"Virgil," Patton repeats in the same way the spider did, and they must like it because they click again. "Virgil, it's nice to finally meet you. Thank you for saving my life."
"It's uh, it's no problem," the spider– Virgil– returns. There's a jittery excitement to them that's fairly infectious. Patton finds himself relaxing.
"Virgil, what pronouns do you use?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"I go by he/him. What do you go by?"
"Oh. I didn't think humans cared about that," they say a bit in awe. "I go by he/him too. Do all humans introduce themselves like that?"
Patton scrunches his nose up ruefully, "Not as much as they should."
Virgil nods seriously. "It's not much of an issue for those born in the Feywild. We tend to just...know."
Patton brightens. "So you are from the Feywild! I've been curious if you were."
"You've been curious about me?" Virgil blurts out. Immediately after, he seems to withdraw in on himself. He looks away and grabs something else from the table. It's a plate of diced fruit. Apple and something else that Patton isn't familiar with. The plate is nudged onto the pallet beside him.
"Of course I've been curious about you," Patton says softly. Feeling bold, he reaches out and offers a light touch at Virgil's wrist while it still lingers by the plate. Virgil tenses and doesn't move. The skin is warm. "You leave me such nice presents... And you've let me stay in your territory. I was afraid at first that it would bother you, but you let me stay."
Without moving his arm away, Virgil lowers his spider thorax to the ground. The legs fold into and under themselves. He's still taller than Patton, even like this, but he appears more at ease.
"I didn't know what to make of you at first," Virgil admits. He doesn't look away from where Patton touches him. "I thought you would run once you realized... But then you built a shelter. And you never tried to hunt me. You left me gifts–"
Here he break off. He snaps to attention and looks Patton in the eyes with barely restrained enthusiasm. "Your gifts. I kept them too."
"You did?!" Patton squeals. Oh, he had hoped, but to hear it confirmed!
Virgil nods vigorously. "Every single one."
Deliriously overcome with joy, Patton grabs hold of his hand and cups it sweetly in both of his. He would squirm with excitement were it not for his injuries.
"Where do you keep them?" Patton asks, because he hasn't spied any of the wooden figurines. This chamber of the cave, for they must be in the cave, is small and has one entrance that leads into another part of the cave. It's too dark to tell where the tunnel leads. There's the fireplace, and the table, and in a corner Patton spots a woven basket full of material and what could be sewing instruments.
Virgil moves to jump up, but he stops when he realizes he will have to let go of Patton in order to do so. He frowns at their hands, obviously torn.
"Oh," Patton says and loosens his grip. He does so slowly and awkwardly, and he marvels at the way Virgil looks on the edge of snatching his hands back up. Patton tilts his head. "Do you...want to show me?"
That gets Virgil's gears moving. He nods and gets back up to leave the room. He gives Patton a backward glance before he goes, like he just can't believe Patton is there.
Patton also can't believe he's there or that he didn't get frostbite or get eaten.
"He kept them," Patton says to himself and smiles.
Virgil returns to the chamber after a minute and is holding an intricately carved chest. It's carved out of wood and plated around the edges and central latch with thin, embossed silver metal. He sits it down beside the pallet and opens it to reveal the spoils inside.
Virgil did not place the figurines on a shelf. Instead, he kept them in a pretty box nestled all together. There is the rocking horse and there is the moose and there is the duck. Each of them kept safe and laid on top of a folded silky blanket.
Virgil pulls them out one by one to show Patton.
Patton crafted them with his own hands.
Why does it feel like he's seeing them for the first time?
"I'm scared I'll break them," Virgil admits sheepishly, unaware of the reverent look Patton has adopted. "I just take them out when I want to see them."
How often did Virgil do this? Sit and admire them? Did he also dream of bridging the gap? Did he think often of Patton and feel comforted knowing he was nearby?
Patton did. He experienced all of that and more. It was his favorite past time these days. He would hold onto the necklace or trace his fingertips over flowers, and the residual warmth was enough to ease the longing.
Patton watches Virgil pull out the wolf statue, the very first gift he left, and Patton flinches so hard his shoulder creaks. Worst yet is how the flesh of his back protests and threatens to re-open. Patton stifles a gasp and noticeably hunches in on himself.
Virgil abandons the figurine and is at his side. He holds Patton up so he isn't slumping and tugging at the wounds.
"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurting?" Virgil asks. His hands are feather-light ghosting over his bandages. He clicks but it's much deeper now. "I need to change them again. I've got a healing salve. Maybe I didn't use enough..."
"Sorry," Patton whispers out between labored breaths, though he has no idea what he's apologizing for. Virgil too seems bewildered.
"Why? You're okay. You can't help if it hurts. Is there anything else wrong? Uh, like internal?"
Patton takes a moment to assess and shakes his head. "Just hurts, sorry."
Virgil frowns but doesn't say anything more. He holds Patton up through the worst of the radiating pain, then leaves him long enough to grab his medical supplies. There's...a lot more than Patton would expect. Lots of meticulously organized pouches in a large leather backpack, the kind Patton might see on passing adventurers who are prepared for the worst-case scenario.
Rolls of bandages are retrieved along with a clean cloth and a small, ceramic container that must have the salve he mentioned. Patton does his best to remain sitting upright even when he shakes from the strain. It allows Virgil better access to unwrap the soiled bandages.
Virgil is silent as he observes Patton's wounds. He takes too long, and Patton breaks the quiet by asking, "How bad is it?"
Virgil blinks and glances at Patton, a bit surprised. He takes the rag and dampens it with water to wipe ever so gently at the wounds. Despite his best efforts, it stings, but Patton clenches his jaw and bears through it.
"You'll be okay," Virgil vows, and there's more to that statement that he isn't saying. "I had to apply stitches to the worst of it, but the rest wasn't so deep. It's long scratches though, from your shoulder blades down to your waist..."
"Mm," Patton hums and nods. It could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.
"The bleeding is much better. Your movement will just be...limited while you heal."
"Okay," Patton agrees. There's not much else he can do.
"...okay. I'm going to apply more salve and get these wrapped again. Then you can rest some more."
"Okay."
"Patton?"
"Yeah?"
"...what did this to you?"
Unbidden, his eyes stray to the wolf figurine. He blinks and he can see the icicles hanging in the fur. The blood spurting out. His heart skipping beats. The fear. The dark.
How did he survive all of that? By all rights, he should be dead.
Patton shuts his eyes. "It was a wolf. It... it got in and...it wasn't normal, it had– ice, it was covered in ice. And– and it was big. So big. And I tried to fight it, but I ran.... I ran."
From where Virgil has situated himself, his shoulder is by Patton's temple. It doesn't take much for Patton to turn into him and press his forehead against it, to feel the solid reassurance. Virgil stills and doesn't move for a while.
Patton loathes the silence now. He's spent too long by himself, cautious of every step. Wary of every exhale, afraid it would be his last. He just wants to feel normal again, whatever that means.
"What were you looking for?" Patton asks when he can't stand it any longer. He stays with his face hidden there, keeps his voice from being too loud. "Earlier. You were looking in the forest for something?"
"Uh..." Virgil lets out tremulously. Patiently, Patton waits, because maybe Virgil is getting used to the noise too. Virgil's hands mechanically resume their work, and Patton feels the slight coolness of the salve. "I was looking for you."
"Why?" Patton asks, because he can't picture it. Why would Virgil go out of his way?
"I checked on you, after the storm let up." Here Virgil pauses. There's resentment in his tone, brittle and chaffing. "Obviously I should have checked earlier. I didn't think– I thought the storm was the biggest worry. I should have known something would happen."
Somehow, Patton knows that the resentment is not directed at him. For once in his life, the voice in the back of his head, the one that's constantly berating him, telling him that it's his fault- it peters out and has no words. Because like understands like.
Patton brings his hand up, softly brushes his fingers over Virgil's bicep. The arm beneath is solid and real. He sighs.
"You knew there was a storm coming. And you know what you did? You went out of your way to bring me a beautiful blanket to make sure I was warm. You did that, when you didn't have to."
"It...was just a blanket. It's not like it helped with a ravenous wolf attack."
Patton finds it in himself to smile, just a little. "No, it didn't. But if you knew a wolf would come last night, would you have done something different?"
Virgil's silence speaks volumes.
Patton leans back. Virgil holds the new bandages limply, ready to apply but too stubbornly lost in thought to take initiative. His mouth opens a couple of times, starting and stopping with ideas of how he could have been better.
That's the thing though, isn't it? There can always be better, even when you've done your best.
Suddenly, Patton's hand rests gently over Virgil's mouth. That gets his full attention and settles him into a tense waiting game, as if Patton has all the power here.
Patton shakes his head and directs that smile to his favorite spider. "It's the fact that you would try. Once you knew something had gone wrong this morning, you searched for me. You thought of me, and you searched for me, to make sure I was okay. It's the thought that counts. I am lucky to have a friend who thinks of me so kindly."
Virgil's eyes, the two large ones and the other itty-bitty ones, go comically wide and Patton does his best not to giggle. "Friend?" Virgil asks, muffled against the hand covering his lips.
"Best friend," Patton agrees and takes his hand back. He can feel his face flushing a bit at his boldness, but he refuses to take the words back. "We've been giving each other gifts for weeks and you kinda saved my life today, so yeah. Best friends. If you want. Which I think you do as much as I do."
Virgil drops the bandages and smacks a palm over half of his face. He stares at Patton with his uncovered half, drinks in Patton grinning from cheek to cheek. His clicks become a chitter that reminds Patton of happy bird calls.
"How can you want to be friends with me?" Virgil asks, unable to let himself have the goodness that's offered to him. Patton understands. Oh does he understand. "How can... Why aren't you scared of me?! I'm a monster to humans. Don't you think I'm gross? How can you just sit here and... and..."
"Smile?" he says back, teasingly.
Virgil waves his free hand at him, a silent demand for an explanation.
Patton keeps smiling. The horrors of last night have chilled him bone deep. He's still scared despite knowing he's safe.
But he's safe. He's safe.
The need to convey this sentiment surges within him. Relief. Gratitude. Happiness. It seeks purchase in his bruised heart and urges it to keep beating.
"Virgil, I don't think you realize, but you've pretty much meant everything to me since I came to live in this forest."
A singular, squeaky click emits, and Patton discovers that half-people can blush too. Virgil has far too much energy to remain sitting when flustered, and he springs to his feet at lightning speed to crawl up the wall to regain his bearings. His hands flap about, and he looks at Patton only to quickly avert his gaze again. Patton laughs in abandon. He would not trade this moment for the world.
"So no, to answer your questions, you don't scare me. I've been wanting to get to know you for weeks now, and I'd really like the opportunity to do that."
Virgil mutters something to himself that sounds close to, "I can't believe this is really happening." Patton is patient and waits out the excitement. He never thought that spiders could be cute before. Virgil's legs are practically dancing back and forth. Patton would be content to watch this for hours.
"Shit, your bandages," Virgil says, snapping himself out of his euphoria. He hops back down and comes back to his original space on the pallet. Patton ushers him over when he hesitates.
"I really appreciate you patching me up," Patton says. He obligingly lifts his arms to allow Virgil to wrap the roll around his abdomen. "You do good work."
Virgil snorts. "I uh, I get by."
"Mm-hm."
"So...friends."
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"What do friends do really? I mean, I've never had a human friend."
"Well," Patton eyes their surroundings with heavy lids. There's not much here in the way of bonding activities, not that Patton's up for much. "We could start with a sleepover, since we're already kind of doing that."
"Sleepover?"
"Yeah, friends will stay over at each other's houses so they can spend time together. They'll stay up late talking and playing games and sometimes pranks. I would offer to have a sleepover at my place but...I don't think I have a home anymore, sorry."
Virgil secures the last of the bandages. After a thought, he pulls the covers up over Patton more. Patton takes him up on the offer and lays back down on his side. He never really tried any of the fruit plate, but he's too worn out now to be hungry.
"It wasn't too terrible," Virgil tells him. "I think it can be fixed. I'll help you. And...in the meantime..."
"Yeah?"
"You can stay here. If you want." Virgil throws it out too fast. He looks away too quickly.
Patton wriggles an arm free to take up Virgil's hand. There are little retracted claws instead of fingernails, but overall, it's just a regular hand.
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot... Is it okay if I sleep some more?"
Virgil squeezes his hand. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here."
Deep in the cursed woods of the Frostweald Forest, Patton falls asleep in a spider's den.
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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 2 years ago
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Day 7: Gift Exchange
For @moxiety-week
Word Count: 2009
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Moxiety 💙💜 Loceit
Warnings: mentions of dysfunctional families, anxiety
~~~START~~~
Patton looked up when a tapping began on his window. A year ago, this would have been a strange occurrence considering that Patton’s room was on the second story; but now… 
He pulled the baby blue curtains from the window to reveal his boyfriend of five months balancing precariously on the ledge below his window. 
“You know, you could just use the door,” Patton teased as he pushed the window open to allow Virgil to climb in. 
“This is more fun,” Virgil smirked, clambering in much more gracefully than Patton would have if their positions were reversed. “Plus, your dads hate me.” 
“They don't hate you,” Patton chuckled, leading Virgil over to the bed so they could both sit. “Of course, they’d like you better if you came in through the door.” 
“I didn’t want to wake the whole house.” 
“No one’s asleep yet,” Patton laughed. It was just after ten p.m. on December 24th, which was after Patton’s weekday curfew, but before his weekend curfew, and therefore a totally appropriate time for Virgil to visit. “Well, the twins are probably in bed, but they’re probably way too excited about Christmas tomorrow to sleep.” 
“Yeah, well, speaking of Christmas,” Virgil said, reaching into his pocket. “I just came by to give you your present.” 
“Oh honey, you didn’t have to!” Patton exclaimed as Virgil presented him with a small box wrapped in last week’s spelling test. 
“We, uh, didn’t have any wrapping paper in the house, so I improvised.” 
“It’s wonderful! Oh! Your gift is downstairs under the tree, I can go get it if–” 
“That’s okay,” Virgil interjected quickly, grabbing Patton’s wrist as the other teen got up to leave. “You can give it to me later.” 
Patton smiled gently and placed the gift down on the bed beside him. Then he pulled Virgil forward until their noses were almost touching. “My dad doesn’t hate you; my pop doesn’t hate you; neither of them will be upset that you’re here.” 
“Even if I do this?” Virgil asked before closing the gap between them. 
Patton giggled into the kiss before wrapping his arms around Virgil’s neck and pulling him even closer. 
He might have been a little distracted, so maybe he could be forgiven for not hearing the first knock at his door… and the second knock at the door… and the sound of the door opening… 
There was no way to mistake the sound of his dad clearing his throat though, especially not with the way Virgil jumped back as though he’d been burned. 
“Good evening, Virgil,” Logan said, looking entirely unimpressed. “Are you hungry? We have leftovers in the refrigerator that you are more than welcome to have. I’m sure Patton can prepare a plate for you.” 
“Th-thank you, sir,” Virgil stuttered, staring resolutely at his feet. 
Dad nodded, satisfied. Then he turned to Patton. “Patton, you are aware that you are required to leave the door open when Virgil is over?” 
“Sorry, dad,” Patton grinned, trying to will the redness out of his face. “I didn’t know Virgil was coming over.” 
Patton’s dad nodded and left, leaving the door open behind him. 
“Maybe I should leave,” Virgil murmured, still studying his shoes. 
“No, stay! Please!” Patton begged, taking Virgil’s hands in his own. “I’ll get you a plate of food. Did you have dinner?” 
“Uh, yeah, we had dinner at my grandma’s.” 
“Good dinner?” 
“Not really.” 
“So, food?” Patton pulled his best puppy-dog eyes that were garnered to make Virgil cave every time. 
“…yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re sure it’s okay.” 
“Absolutely!” Patton assured him quickly. “Dad wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t okay, he’s very direct!” 
“Okay.” 
Patton grinned and grabbed Virgil’s gift in one hand, and his hand in the other and dragged him across the hall and down the stairs. 
“Oh, Virgil, I must have missed when you entered through our door like a normal person instead of through the upstairs window like an oversized racoon,” Janus Sanders drawled as they passed where he was busy wrapping the twins’ presents from Santa at the dining room table. 
“Uh, hi, Mr. Sanders,” Virgil waved awkwardly before scurrying off towards the kitchen behind Patton. 
“Make sure you get your food out of the fridge instead of the trash can!” Pop called after him. 
“Take a gander at this,” Patton declared as he pulled several tubberware out of the fridge, including one that was full of goose. “Peas pick out whatever you’d cheese!” 
The puns had the desired effect of taking Virgil’s mind off of Patton’s dads, and he allowed Patton to load up a plate to put in the microwave. 
Patton’s pop had moved on gifts for Patton’s cousins by the time the couple returned to the dining room. A brief look of surprise passed over Pop’s face when he noticed how much food was on Virgil’s plate, but he went back to his wrapping without comment. At least until Virgil was over halfway through his meal. 
“So Virgil,” he started, still turned towards his work but stealing sneaky glances at Virgil from the corner of his eye. “Are you doing anything special tomorrow?” 
“Not really,” Virgil shrugged, more comfortable now with his stomach half full and Patton’s hand resting on his back. “We had dinner with my extended family today, and tomorrow my dad’s gonna spend the day with his girlfriend and her family, so I kinda get the house to myself.” 
“He’s not taking you with him?” Patton's dad questioned as he entered the room, having overheard the conversation from the living room. 
“I, uh, wasn’t invited,” Virgil admitted, his shoulders rising defensively. “She doesn’t really want me around her kids. She thinks I’d, um… she thinks I’d be a bad influence.” 
All three Sanderses sat in shocked silence while Virgil’s shoulder continued to climb. 
“Vee!” Patton gasped, nearly knocking Virgil out his chair as he launched himself towards the other boy and wrapped his arms around him protectively. 
“It’s fine!” Virgil assured him quickly, startled by the tears that had sprung up in his boyfriend’s eyes. “I can watch Nightmare Before Christmas and, uh, Diehard, or something.” 
He startled when a hand landed on his shoulder that wasn’t taken up by a distressed teenager. Looking up, he found Logan Sanders staring down at him with the softest expression that his boyfriend’s dad had ever sent his way. 
“Virgil,” Logan started. “Would you like to stay here tonight, and spend Christmas with us tomorrow?” 
Virgil stared at him, completely floored. 
“Yes!” Patton agreed, gaining some of his pep back. “We have pancakes, and presents, and my cousins are coming over at two, but you can leave before they get here if you’re peopled out, or you could stay and we’ll have ham, and duck, and cinnamon rolls the size of your head, and–!” 
“You’re sure?” Virgil asked quietly. 
“Completely certain,” Pop assured him, pushing his wrapping to the side. “After all, what would Christmas be without our favorite racoon?” 
“Oh,” Virgil whispered, tears blurring his vision. 
Logan offered his shoulder one last squeeze before pulling back. “I will go prepare the guest room.” 
“Th-thank you!” Virgil called after him. 
“Do you want me to open my gift now, or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” Patton asked as he pulled back from the hug, though he kept Virgil’s hand firmly tucked in his own. 
“Now’s good,” Virgil said. “Unless you want to wait for tomorrow.” 
“Let’s do now,” Patton agreed. “Oh! I’ll go get your gift!” 
And with one last kiss on the cheek, he rushed out of the dining room to grab Virgil’s gift from under the tree. 
Leaving Virgil alone with Patton’s pop. 
“I hope you know that you’re welcome here whenever you need,” Pop said seriously. “And you’re free to take anything from the fridge that you want.” 
“R-really?” Virgil asked. “But I thought you hated me?” 
“You make Patton very happy,” Janus shrugged. “How could we hate you for that? Although, I could do without worrying that you’ll break your neck climbing up the tree every time you want to come inside. And your hair dye is horribly uneven, I’m going to have to insist you allow me to do it for you next time.” 
“Really? You know how to dye hair?” 
“Of course I do, I used to dye Logan’s all the time,” Pop chuckled as Patton returned with a messily wrapped present in his hands. 
“I can’t imagine Logan with dyed hair,” Virgil mused. It just didn’t add up with his very put-together demeanor. 
“Remind me tomorrow to show you pictures of Logan from his ‘scene girl’ phase. Anyway, as I seem to be done here, at least until a certain jolly elf makes his appearance later, I’m going to head up to bed. Goodnight, puffball,” Pop placed a kiss on Patton’s curls. “Goodnight, Virgil.” 
“‘Night Pop!” 
“Goodnight, sir.” 
“Please,” Patton’s pop insisted. “Call me Janus, or Pop, or Mama, as that one seems to be sticking around.” 
“Goodnight, Janus,” Virgil corrected himself hesitantly. Janus offered him a warm smile before heading up the stairs. 
“See,” Patton said once they were alone. “They don’t hate you.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” Virgil admitted, a tiny smile gracing his face. Patton beamed. 
“Okay, here’s your gift! Do you want to take turns, or open at the same time?” 
“Open at the same time,” Virgil decided. 
“Okay, in three, two, one!” 
The sound of ripping paper filled the air as they both tore into their gifts. Virgil tore the paper off to reveal a pair of noise canceling headphones to replace the ones he had which only played music out of one side. Patton tore the spelling test off to reveal a small, nondescript box. 
“It’s, uh, it’s not as nice as your gift,” Virgil admitted guiltily. He’d been feeling pretty good about the gift when he’d climbed in Patton’s window earlier, but now… 
It was kinda pathetic compared to the headphones. 
Patton took the lid off the box to find a slightly misshapen, translucent blue heart. 
“It’s just a piece of sea glass I found the other day. It made me think of you. I know it’s totally lame, but I didn’t have enough money to buy you anything nice and I thought that–” 
“I love it,” Patton whispered, transfixed by the glass. “I love it, Virge!” 
“You do?” 
“It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” Patton told him honestly. That Virgil had seen the sea glass and thought of him! Nothing could come close to beating that. 
“G-good. I’m glad you like it,” Virgil smiled. “I love the headphones; I’ll use them all the time.” 
“I know, sweetie.” Patton leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Virgil’s lips. 
The chaste kiss was followed by a less than chaste kiss. Which was followed by another, and then another. 
The two once again jumped apart when Logan cleared his throat. 
“The guest room is made up,” he informed them. “Now, you’re both going to need to go to bed if you expect a visit from an eighteen-hundred-year-old man tonight.” 
“Goodnight, Dad!” Patton grinned, hugging his dad tightly. 
“Goodnight, Patton. Goodnight, Virgil.” 
“Goodnight, Logan.” 
Logan smiled at him as Patton dragged him upstairs and showed him to the guest room. They kissed again at the top of the stairs, but Pop’s pointed cough discouraged them from lingering too long in each other’s company. 
“Goodnight, Virgil. Merry Christmas!” 
“Merry Christmas, Patton,” Virgil smiled. 
Patton went to bed with a light heart as he thought about how much happier Virgil was than when he’d first crawled through Patton’s window. 
A window which he had accidentally left open, allowing freezing air to fill his room. 
He closed the window and made sure to change into his warmest pajamas. Then, he reverently placed the sea glass heart on his shelf next to the leaf Remus had given him when the twins first joined the Sanders family, and the bottle cap given to him by his birth mother before she passed away. His greatest treasures.
~~~END~~~
From the fanfic author who brought you divorced Loceit, I bring you Awesome Power Couple and Loving Dads Loceit 💙💛
I think this one is my favorite of my Moxiety Week fics
General taglist:
@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling
43 notes · View notes
smileheart110 · 11 months ago
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Cute Laughter (Valentickle)
Kanene Note’s: Heyaaaa!!! I know, I know, I’m a week late but… hey! It is me! The timelessness in person, what were you expecting? :DD)/
XDD
Just joking, lol. But sorrey for the lack of fanfiction here, though. I was on my Test Week and so busy that I didn’t even remembered to post it here on Valentine’s Day. Anyway, Carnaval’s Holiday had (finally!!!!!!) arrived and I will try to be more active here as well to write a little some some!!
Weeeeelll…. Hope you all like this fanfic! It is a short oneshot for an awesome Valentickle that happened on Discord! \0/
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belongs to Thomas Sanders! Yaaay!
* This is a SFW Tickle-fic focus on the shipp Moxiety (Virgil x Patton), so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another arts. There are a lot of wonderful arts in this site!!  ^w^)b
* Something around 2000 words. -w-)b.
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/
* Oh, they’re all humans here. Patton is a tired lovely dad and Virgil is the kind shy employee from one of his favorite stores.
[~*~]
Virgil was about to flee.
And ‘about to flee’ means that he already had deposited all the bags on the bed as gently as possible, which consequently meant that he had no escape beyond standing right there, staring the other with black rims glasses and a warm smile tenderly and with a little of tiredness rocks the baby in his arms.
Keep reading
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sandersontheside · 4 months ago
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What Your Favorite Sanders Sides Ship Says About You
Inspired by Eldena Doubleca5t's excellent series!
Prinxiety: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of getting dunked on. Also, you probably watched BBC Merlin at some point.
Analogical: Your ideal relationship dynamic is two cats on opposite ends of the same couch.
Anxceit: Your addiction to edgy boys got so bad that one day you decided: [spongebob meme] What’s better than ONE edgy boy? TWO edgy boys!
Dukexiety: I’m not saying you for sure see a therapist, but I am saying with as much love as possible, that maybe you should.
Moxiety: You are touch starved. You don't want to be hugged, you want to use another human being as a weighted blanket.
Logicality: Your ideal relationship dynamic is sitcom wife x sitcom husband.
Intruality: Either "I can fix him" or "I can make him worse" depending on which side you're projecting on
Royality: Your ideal relationship dynamic is himbo x himbo, and you have so much ADHD.
Remrom: 🚨 FBI OPEN UP 🚨
Logince: How's that crush on your much more extroverted best friend going?
Intrulogical: Looking back on your childhood, you can pinpoint The Master from Doctor Who as the beginning of your crippling addiction to the most unhinged characters known to fiction.
Lociet: Half of you came here from shipping L and Light in Death Note, and half of you came here from shipping Sherlock and Moriarty in BBC Sherlock.
Dukeciet: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of committing arson together.
Roceit: Your ideal relationship dynamic is just that tumblr post that's like "go fuck yourself" "fuck me yourself, coward."
Mociet: I'm not saying you for sure have daddy issues, but I am saying I would be surprised if you didn't
LAMP/DLAMP(polycule): You don’t like to make decisions.
Nicomas: And, finally, you are a firm believer in keeping things canon and keeping things wholesome. You just want good things for Thomas, and really, who wouldn't?
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pencilpat · 1 year ago
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Tumblr media Tumblr media
Calling your spider boyfriend lovebug? Inspired
Plus a small moxiety peek at my take on a human AU where they're all a bunch of dorky college kids
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prodigal-explorer · 10 months ago
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my roleplay information/application!
hey guyssss, so like i'm kinda desperate for rp partners so i'm just gonna try my luck here and see if any of y'all are interested in rping with me! feel free to read through this information and message me if you are interested!! as long as you meet my requirements, i would love to rp with you!!
basic information
i am 18 (19 in a few weeks) and i'm okay rping with any age, but i will not rp anything relating to nsfw with a minor. not even implied nsfw, it's just very uncomfortable. but if you're 18+, i'll rp anything on this list with you!
i only rp semi-lit/descriptive. this means at least five sentences, detailed responses that aren't just surface level. it's hard to respond to stuff that's lazy, so please please please just put in the effort if you want high quality responses in return!
the fandoms i roleplay are sanders sides, undertale, your turn to die, and omori. i dabble in oc rp, but it's not very common for me since i don't really have many ocs that i like enough to rp with.
my favorite types of roleplay are heavy angst and whump. i love really dark concepts, and it's rare that i won't do something that's dark and angsty. i struggle with concepts that are just fluff because i prefer rps with a lot of conflict and struggle.
my only triggers are constant discussion about body type/comparing body types and descriptive talk of medical needles. other than that i will do literally anything lol.
i am filipino-american, audhd, physically disabled, and i love to incorporate these aspects of my identity into the characters i play. if you don't like that, we probably won't make very good rp partners.
i hate hate HATE poking. please don't remind me of the rp after ten minutes of me not responding. please don't remind me of the rp after ten HOURS of me not responding. i know it exists, i just need time to reply. if you nag me about responding, i probably will wait even longer to reply because it's intimidating.
i love to chat oorp! feel free to leave a silly message, even if it has nothing to do with rp!
scroll all the way to the bottom of the post if you want to see writing examples!! below are just specific tidbits of information pertaining to each fandom i rp!
sanders sides specific information
the main side i love to play is roman. i will always want to play roman in every single tss rp, he's just me, he's my number one homie, my favorite character of all time.
i can also play any of the other sides, but my characterization for them is not as solid as roman.
i don't really like patton in roleplays unless he's a minor character or an antagonist/villain. i am very good at playing patton as a villain, but i don't really like playing him in any other context. i have so many aus where patton is a villain or antagonist, so if that's your jam, you've come to the right place!
i will do mindscape or human aus, i love both!
i am okay with ocs but i will not do canon side x female oc. it just makes me very uncomfortable to ship sides with female characters.
some of my favorite ships are roceit, prinxiety, logince, anaroceit, analogical, intrulogical, and loceit.
the only ships i WILL NOT do are moxiety, royality, moceit, logicality, intruality, and remrom. every other ship, i'm completely okay with.
i love rping as remy or emile picani!!
i have SO MANY IDEAS for this fandom. like literally hundreds of aus. so please message me if you want to rp anything with angst, or drama, or anything like that because i have SO MUCH.
undertale specific information
so fun fact i'm actually kind of bad at undertale rp.
it's not that i'm awful i just don't have a lot of experience, but i'm working on it!
the main characters i like to play are papyrus, undyne, alphys, toriel, asgore, and gaster.
i can also play asriel/flowey, sans, frisk, mettaton, grillby, and chara if necessary.
i am totally fine with ocs, bring them on!
i don't really like rps with the au sans stuff? nothing against it, i just don't really know much about it and in the nicest way possible i don't really care. i prefer to stick with canon and prequel/sequel aus instead of aus that change up the characters' personalities and stuff.
my favorite undertale au of all time is handplates i have so many thoughts about it and i would love to rp it!
i love angsty rps but undertale is actually one of the only fandoms where i love to rp fluff for it. undertale is just such a goofy game and i love emulating that style of humor in rp!
ships i enjoy are soriel, papyton, alphyne, sansby, and whatever the ship name for alphys x gaster is?
the only undertale ships i WILL NOT rp are anything involving the child characters (frisk, chara, asriel, monster kid), and anything that ships undyne with a guy. i'm also not a huge fan of asgore x toriel but i'll do it if you really want me to!
your turn to die specific information
i am so new to rping in this fandom but i really want to anyway!! trust, i know all the lore, i just need some solid experience!
my favorite characters to play are jou, reko, nao, gin, kai, shin, hiyori, and sara.
i will play q-taro, mishima, or alice if necessary!
i am very bad at keiji, i don't think i can play him well.
i love canon and au roleplays equally! i would love to do either way!
i like pretty much all the ships, it would be easier to list ships i don't like.
i don't like any ships that involve the little kids (kanna, gin, hinako), any ships with a huge age gap (especially sara x keiji), and shin x hiyori. it's just...no.
omori specific information
i am very new to the fandom, so please have mercy on me if i get something wrong lol!
my favorite characters to play are kel, hero, aubrey, and mari!
i can play sunny if necessary.
i will not play basil. i actually don't like basil being present in roleplays, he's just a character i personally dislike. i'm fine with him showing up occasionally as a minor character, but i just don't like him being a big part of roleplays.
i will roleplay canon and aus! i love both! but bear in mind i am a bit more hesitant to rp ships in canon, but in aus i have zero reservations!
my favorite ships are anything involving sunny, kel, and aubrey being together, but my number one otp is hero x mari!
the only ships i WILL NOT do are ships that have basil in them, especially basil x sunny or basil x kel. they just don't sit right with me personally.
i don't really know much about the minor characters of the game...i might need a bit of guidance if you want to use a character that isn't a part of the main six! but i am completely fine with it as long as you're okay with me being a bit clueless.
writing samples!!!
The streets were soft, the dusty sidewalks concealed by powdery snow that made Brooklyn look like a wedding. Roman stepped lightly, wondering how high he would have to hold himself to keep his foot from sinking in the snow, ruining the shiny white blanket that protected his bare feet from the cruel asphalt.
His book remained tucked under his jacket, as if it needed protection from the biting wind. Roman didn’t think it was possible for something that carried such beautiful notions and ideas to be unfeeling, so he acted as though there was a beating heart somewhere between the pages. Nobody had ever told him there wasn’t one, so what was the harm in believing if it made the sky feel brighter, and the air feel warmer, and the world feel more connected?
When he came back to the small, tucked-away alley that he and his brothers were currently living in, he was happy to see a little fire that he could warm himself beside while he opened his new book, aching to see what was inside.
--
"Protect...me?"
Roman was unfamiliar. He was always used to protecting other people. He was tall, graceful and beautiful. Couldn't really throw a punch, but he had a way with his words that could get him absolutely anything he wanted. Including peace. He was used to standing between bullies and victims, seducing with his sweet smile and long eyelashes. Making anybody feel like they've been blessed just looking at him. With his parents always gone, and nobody to hold him during nightmares, Roman had gotten used to holding himself. But now, he just wanted to be protected so badly. He wanted to be truly loved by somebody besides himself.
"Okay..." he whispered, "Okay."
--
"Oh! Do you guys want to go to that restaurant across the street?" Patton asked, "We performed so well tonight, I think we all deserve a treat! Virgil, you hit that syncopation perfectly, and Janus, that riff was amazing! The crowd went wild for us! Drinks will be on me, as long as you all promise not to drink too much. I'll be the designated driver too. What do you say??"
Of course, this invitation was not extended to Logan. Patton didn't even notice Logan in the area, assuming that he was off sweeping the stage or packing up the van. Patton was the one who decided what everybody did, and he usually gave Logan the grease-work like that. He didn't really care very much about Logan, just because Logan wasn't as close to the group. There wasn't that bond of performing show after show, having fans that requested autographs, being followed and gushed over by paparazzi.
Since Logan was never onstage, nobody knew the face or identity of the man who wrote the songs that all these fans were so crazy about. And Patton sort of preferred it that way. He didn't really like the idea of Logan being a face of their band. Unlike Janus and Virgil, Patton wasn't sure how the public eye would recieve Logan. The man wasn't remotely ugly, but he was rather plain-looking. He tended to blend into the background of the rooms he occupied. He wasn't the type of look one would expect to be in a hugely successful band.
All the others had their "niche". Patton was the sweetheart, the nice one, the innocent one. Virgil was the quiet, brooding, mysterious one. And Janus was the charmer, able to seduce anyone with a wink and a smile. What was Logan? He didn't talk very much, he wasn't particularly nice, brooding, or seductive. Patton didn't like that Logan didn't exactly have an archetype. He didn't quite fit in.
--
Roman tilted his head with a polite smile and an appropriate amount of interest as Logan disclosed his name. It was nothing familiar to him, but he did think it was a beautiful-sounding name. He always loved when people's first and last names started with the same letter. It felt like a name out of a fairy-tale when it had that feature.
Listening to what Logan was saying, Roman couldn't help but go red, very embarrassed. He was bad at English, but he certainly wasn't stupid. He could tell that Logan was euphemizing heavily in order to preserve Roman's feelings, which made Roman both embarrassed that Logan felt the need to do this, and honored that Logan cared so much about how he felt. It was a really sweet gesture, honestly.
"You write music too?" he asked, very curious. "I would love to sing a song by you wrote. You will...pay me? Money?"
Roman wondered if Logan was offering him a job, or just wanting to have a jam session as friends and colleagues. He would be happy with either option, but he wanted to manage his expectations there and then, so there would be less awkwardness from false assumptions.
--
Roman looked at it and smiled as he read through the lyrics, his eyes carefully scanning from left to right as he ingested each lyric. His smile only grew.
"It is okay," he said, "I like messy handwriting. It means...it means your brain moves fast, and your hand must hurry to follow. I like this song. I think...I want to sing it. Do you want me to sing here? In front of everyone?"
Roman would definitely be willing to give Logan's song some publicity. And he adored the thrill of singing a song for the first time in front of a whole crowd of people. Roman wasn't the type to get stage fright. The more risky a performance was, the more excited he was to try and execute it. Roman had a bit of a shame deficiency, such was obvious with him singing those lyrics he wrote out loud multiple times.
His eyes were shining with enthusiasm, but also, with gratitude. He was thankful to Logan for the opportunity he had to bring this song to life, this brand new song that no one had ever heard before. The idea that its first breath of auditory life would be coming from Roman's own voice was so romantic that it almost made Roman want to sing it right there and then so he wouldn't have to wait anymore.
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edupunkn00b · 2 years ago
Note
For the ship game:
Dlampr
and
Moxiety
(It's so hard to think of a ship you haven't written yet 😅🤭)
I'm splitting these because the answer to the first one just got so long :D Thank you so much, Nici, for this ask! (The DRLAMP/DLAMPR answer is here.)
Moxiety
Ship It (under the right circumstances)
Definitely only ship it platonically in canonverse/canon-adjacent stories, but it has some interesting romantic potential in human AUs.
What made you ship it? Again, some collaborative writing experiments, honestly :D. Writing a ship is absolutely the best way to get me on board. I didn't ship Roceit, either, until after I started writing Happily Ever After.
What are your favorite things about the ship? Its softness. They're both so emotional and they look out for each other's hearts. (WTIT endcard? What's that?)
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Probably that I usually only see them as platonic. Again… writing it will change everything XD
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pupplaylogan · 11 months ago
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I have a few questions about certain kinks and fetishes that I don't know if you're okay with writing so that I don't accidentally give a prompt that you're uncomfortable with writing and ruin your day. (You can just answer 'yes', 'no', or 'sometimes' I also apologize if some of these were on the list you made, I'm not looking at the list and just going by memory while I type this out)
Food play
Frottage
Collars/leashes
piss play
Exhibition
Master/slave
human toilet
Moxiety
Manhandle
Anxeit
Voyeurism
Inflation
Micro/Macro
Knife play
Choking or breath play
Cverstimulation
Foot/feet play
Worship
Praise
Cross-dressing
(I'm sorry if that's alot)
UR ALL GOOD MAN !!! THANK U 4 THE QUESTION ^_^
Frottage, collars/leashes, piss play, exhibition, human toilet, manhandling, voyeurism, micro/macro, knife play, choking & breath play, overstimulation, worship, praise, & crossdressing r all things I am totally ok w/ writing !
Food play, inflation, & feet play r ALSO things I am ok w/ writing, but they're not usually something I think about or know about, so I am a little unsure when it comes to writing it. I'll still write it but it probably wont be super good NEHDJFNF
Master/slave is. A tricky one. I don't know fully how I feel about it just yet. I think it depends on the situation and what's happening, so Maybe.
Anx//ceit & mox//iety are ships I am okay with writing.
Also, just as a note, my day will not be ruined by a prompt I don't enjoy. If i see something Im uncomfortable w/ or dislike, whether it be a request or a random asks, I will just ignore it or say I don't want to write it.
If you're still unsure if I will enjoy a request, just send it in anyway. The worse thing I will say is "im sorry but i don't want to write this!"
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ao3feed-loceit · 2 years ago
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nandysparadox · 1 year ago
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thanks for the tag :D
When did you post your first fanfic?
can't say exactly but 2017! it was a short little thing i posted on amino but it counts XD
First Character you wrote for:
it was an undertale au fic so. frisk i suppose?
Main character(s) you're currently writing for:
roman <333 although i do write from patton and remus' pov often enough 😆
Character(s) you haven't written about before but plan on writing about soon
no current plans in regard to that, I've written about all the sides before i think so all there's left is ts shorts characters
Fandom(s) you're currently writing for:
sanders sides (i might do more for roleslaying with roman in the future though if the mood strikes me)
Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:
platonic moceit and moxiety are everything to me 💖
Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:
royality and dukexiety gdkkd im not opposed to writing more ships in the future though, i just haven't got ideas for them (anxceit is the exception 👀)
Your top three tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):
Fluff, Alternative Universe - Human, Hurt/Comfort (same hat !👒)
Your current platform where you post your works:
ao3 and on tumblr !
Snippet of A WIP you're currently working on:
here's a sneak-peek of the next chapter ;)
You’d think that if he’d get one thing right it would be his job, but here they were. Yet again he led Thomas to unachievable goals, chasing dreams he couldn't fulfill. But he supposed that was his role — dreaming, wanting. Falling when unable to reach it, heat on his fingertips when he nearly touched it, ever the Icarus. After all, it was human nature to want, and he’d made up that part.
No pressure tags: @vinbee631, @creativia10, @typically-untypical
❦ ➷ get to know your fellow fanfic writers better ༊ ✧.*
I had fun doing this! ♡
when did you post your first ever fanfic?
January 2017, I think. wow, it’s been 6 years! (no, I’m not giving you my Wattpad username)
first character you wrote for:
Joker. it was during my Wattpad era. I have zero regret, but I’m not giving the link lol
main character(s) you’re currently writing for:
Daniel Harrow & Henry Creel (as in separate fics that aren’t crossover, but wouldn’t it be nice if I wrote a crossover with these two…)
character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:
Henry Morgan (from Forever tv) !! also, I’d love to write more about Captain Jack Sparrow
fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:
Harrow & Stranger Things
platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:
Daniel Harrow & Simon Van Reyk (Harrow), Henry Creel & Eleven (Stranger Things)
romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:
I know it’s been more than a year since my last update so I can’t say currently, but Loki/Mobius. other than that the more recent one is Will Byers/Mike Wheeler but even then, it’s still rare. so I guess I focus more on writing platonic relationships lately (honestly it just depends on the characters whom my hyperfixation is on and whether their relationship with the other characters is romantic or platonic.)
your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):
whump, hurt/comfort & angst
your current platform where you post your works:
tap HERE for my AO3
snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:
should be posted hopefully within the next few days!
But Harrow forced a smile as he greeted Simon with a hug. And when he hugged Simon, his smile became real. And for a moment Harrow could forget the guilt and the shame he carried with him. For a moment, he could really breathe, knowing that Simon was safe. In his arms.
* aka a fix-it fic where Simon lives.
🏷️ no pressure tags at random: @foodiewithdahoodie @queereldritch @bebataylor84 @ohfallingdisco @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @sillylittlerock @jcbbby @maladaptive-jcb @highwarlockofphilly @can-of-pringles @mirilyawrites @chaos-monkeyy @harringroveera @medium-rare-bimbo @deliaqbower @ripcreel @rins-love-wins @okilokiwithpurpose @lokisgoodgirl @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @daddiesdrarryy @loki-hargreeves @zodiyack @cha-melodius @insert-witty-user-name-here @dewdropreader @blackbirdofasgard @mimisempai @underwhelmingalchemist @excusemefangirlhere @abitofboth @worstloki @littlekinng @andiwriteordie @cluelessbees @suzieburself @waroftheposes @drop-of-infinity @bookinit02 @bizarrelittlemew @ghostalservice @pilkingtonian @thefatedthoughtofyou @brbsoulnomming @spooky-brakers @cosmicanamnesis @cranberrymoons @onirislanding @thefreakandthehair @thisapplepielife — if I didn’t tag you and you’d like to join, please do! everybody is welcome
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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 2 years ago
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Moxiety Week Masterlist 🩵💜
Day 1: Cuddles/Stuffed Animals Oneshot | Word Count: 380 | Pre-AA | Platonic
Day 2: Birthday/Surprise Oneshot | Word Count: 825 | Human AU | Romantic | & implied/background Logince, Dukeceit
Day 3: Roleswap/AU | Part 2 Multi-part | Incomplete | Light Side!Virgil Dark Side!Patton AU | Platonic/Pre-Relationship
Day 4: Movie Night Oneshot | Word Count: 651 | Canonverse | Romantic
Day 5: Falling Asleep Oneshot | Word Count: 396 | Canonverse | Romantic
Day 6: Learning to Dance Oneshot | Word Count: 1289 | Royalty AU | Romantic | & background Roceit
Day 7: Gift Exchange Oneshot | Word Count: 2009 | High School AU | Romantic | & Loceit
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delimeful · 3 years ago
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Snapshot: Release
new WIBAR Snapshot! 
warnings: mention of trafficking, PTSD, mentions of funeral rites, catharsis, crying, sad hours
-
Patton liked to think himself an optimist, but even he could admit that there were some days where things were bad.
He didn’t like to, of course. Gratitude was a virtue in Ampen culture, and he had carried it with him gladly when he first started spacefaring. It was easy, most days, to find something to be grateful for and thank the sea’s tidings.
Most days.
Though it had taken time, Patton had learned to loosen his grip on the idea of the foam edge, the bright side to a bad situation. He still found the cup half-full, of course, but he also knew that sometimes things were hard, and it was okay to be sad about that.
He was still getting to the part where he told others when he was sad, but that was okay! He was working on it, and as Logan always said, growth took time.
A few rotations after Virgil and him were reunited with his best friends, Virgil had one of those days.
It had started innocuously enough. Patton had been sprawled over Virgil’s legs, continuing his not-so-secret agenda to show Roman and Logan exactly what kind of Human Virgil was. Not harmless, certainly, but-- what was the Common word? Disciplined.
They both knew how easily Virgil could hurt him, could hurt any of them. Patton had been there watching while they escaped, when Virgil slammed into aliens much stronger than an Ampen with unforgiving force. There was no question of his capability for violence, when faced with a threat.
But that was just it. Virgil knew he could hurt them, even through simple carelessness, and he worked so hard not to.
It was clear in every movement. How could Patton feel the subtle tremor in Virgil’s hands when he held him, the attentive stillness of his body when Patton perched on him, the careful softness of his fingers carding through feathers, and feel anything but treasured?
Virgil had protected Patton with everything he had, and Patton was going to return the favor however he could. That’s what friends were for, after all.
So, Patton was nestled into the crook of Virgil’s legs, listening intently as he told a story from back home, occasionally piping in with questions or a story of his own.
Logan would have metaphorically killed for the opportunity to even just listen in on these firsthand Deathworlder anecdotes, but Virgil was still avoiding the Ulgorian with skillful determination. It was a little saddening, but Patton knew better than to push.
Everything was still settling down from their last incident; he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance again by shoving Virgil out of his comfort zone.
Instead, he just listened, happy to see the little differences that had overcome his friend since they’d finally gotten free of that horrible cell.
This was far from the first time they’d sat around storytelling.
There was little else to do in their cell, and besides, it was one of the fastest ways to share words, telling tales tall and small and only pausing whenever a word didn’t quite translate or their voices went out. Back then, though, Virgil had shared his stories with an almost bittersweet air about him.
It reminded Patton of the way Crav’n held wakes, long stretches of time spent gathered around their pyre, sharing stories, remembering and honoring the deceased in every way they could. It was as though Virgil was giving up those little pieces of himself in advance, for someone to remember after he was gone. As though he was performing his own funerary rites.
His coatfeathers fluffed up sharply at the thought, and he shuddered a few times to try and settle them back into place. That time was past, Virgil was safe, and so it bore no further thought.
Unaware of the way Patton’s attention had strayed, Virgil ran a hand over his back, shifting feathers back into alignment with surprising delicacy for such a large being. Patton trilled lowly in pleased gratitude, wishing wholeheartedly that Roman would stop glaring long enough to notice this aspect of the Mindscape’s newest resident. They could get along so well if they gave each other a chance, he just knew it…
“Hey, Patton?” Virgil asked, shifting from the bright, long vowels of Patton’s native language to the lower register he used for his own home tongue. Patton perked his antennae up to show his friend that he had his undivided attention; Virgil usually only used English when he was asking something he didn’t want anyone else to overhear.
Nobody was nearby to listen, but that didn’t stop Virgil from casting a guilty look over his shoulder when he admitted, “I snuck into the map room yesterday.”
The ‘map room’ must have been referring to the nav room, where they plotted courses. It had a manual pilot control station as well, which was why Roman had been safeguarding it from Virgil as though he thought the Human would suddenly take up space piracy and seize control of their vessel.
Patton certainly didn’t have any problem with trusting Virgil in there, so he didn’t even twitch at the confession, only narrowing his eyes in silent encouragement for his friend to continue.
Just as Patton no longer shied away from bared teeth, Virgil no longer assumed narrowed eyes signified anger or doubt. He had picked up on a fair amount of Ampen body language during the course of their friendship, and so his lips quirked to the side slightly before he took the invitation to explain.
“I just wanted to know where we were, I guess. It was difficult to make sense of the maps-- It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities to check them out on any of the other ships I’ve been on,” he said, and only the way his eyes rolled up slightly told Patton he was mostly-joking, the hesitant way he did sometimes.
Patton knew their time spent with the smugglers was something everyone on the ship would prefer to forget, including them, but things like that changed a person. They couldn’t be denied. If small, slightly-bitter jokes like this one were how Virgil honored that change, Patton could support it.
“I’d be mappalled with their terrible hosting skills, if I were you,” he chimed in, and he couldn’t help the way his feathers’ glow increased at the sight of Virgil’s smile, even muffled behind a hand. “Do you want to learn how to read the maps?”
“Yes,” Virgil answered, unable to conceal the too-quick way he leapt on the opportunity. There was a pause, his face going slightly pink, but Patton didn’t comment, feeling a swell of sympathy in his upper heart. It was hard to remember sometimes, with how adjusted Patton was to the wayfarer lifestyle, that Virgil was immeasurably far from everything he’d ever known.
“I mean, yeah,” he corrected, clearing his throat in a way that Patton had once mistaken for a growl, “but that’s not actually-- I was trying to see if I could recognize anything. Any stars, or-- or planets, y’know?”
He was avoiding eye contact now, staring at a distant point. He hadn’t moved his hand, which meant that Patton could feel the tremble in it when he butted his head into the point of contact. He crooned soothingly, the type of sound a parent would use to soothe a hatchling.
“I, um. Well, I figured if I knew how far it was, I could figure out how much it would cost to make that sort of…,” he fumbled for a word Patton would know, slipping back into Common for a few words, “extra trip. But I couldn’t find anything familiar. So, I... I thought I’d ask. Like I probably should have in the first place.”
Patton waited, but that seemed to be all Virgil could manage. “Ask what?” he prompted gently. “Space is big, but if there’s certain skysights you miss, I’m sure we can get started on finding them! What are you looking for?”
Virgil’s attention dropped down to him and then flitted away again, not a single sign that he’d even heard Patton’s pun. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and then dragged his gaze back to meet Patton’s.
“... Earth?” he managed, in one of the smallest voices Patton had ever heard from him.
Oh.
Oh.
Patton’s antennae flicked back in dread before he could stop them, and Virgil’s face twitched slightly, making an expression that he’d never seen before. His chin had dimpled, his jaw clenched, tense as though waiting for a blow.
Waiting for Patton to tell him he couldn’t go home.
This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, Patton realized. Far from it, it seemed as though Virgil had been cradling this question like an egg surrounded by downy feathers, keeping it tucked away, waiting desperately to be secure enough, safe enough to ask. To try hoping for a future again.
He was so afraid to want, and Patton couldn’t help but whine slightly, because this time, he was right to fear the worst.
They couldn’t go to Earth. Patton knew, because it was the first thing he’d talked to Roman and Logan about, that first day, as soon as Virgil had retired to his new room.
It wasn’t a matter of should or would. They couldn’t, not even if they all agreed to try, not even if they were willing to go directly against the council’s edicts. They didn’t have the equipment to get past the barricade undetected, they didn’t have the knowledge to slip between patrols, they didn’t even have the cloaking capabilities they’d need to land on an uninformed planet. They didn’t have enough funds to try and obtain any of those.
Honestly, they were barely scraping by as it was. Roman and Logan had halted their normal cargo runs to search for him, and their savings had suffered as a result. It was part of the reason they had been taking more jobs, any they could find that wouldn’t put them in the sights of any potential Human-hunters.
He’d done his best to shield Virgil from realizing just how much his presence had changed their routine, but going by the way he thought he’d have to pay them just to get back to a home he never should have been stolen from in the first place, he hadn’t been successful.
Patton glanced to the door with a half-formed desire to go get Logan, who had patiently walked Patton through every possible scenario until it sunk in that they really, truly couldn’t do it.
It wasn’t fair. Patton had chosen this life, and he could still go home, and see his family, and greet the ocean breeze. Virgil hadn’t had a choice in anything, hadn’t had the freedom that spacefaring brought so many, and now he didn’t have the option to return home, either.
“It’s not— I don’t want to leave you,” Virgil forced out, looking a little frantic. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”
He used the Ampen version of the word, the one that translated literally to ‘treasured one’, and could be used by any who had bonded closely, blood or nest-sharing aside. Patton nodded firmly, mouth clamped shut to keep from sobbing.
“Right,” Virgil continued, near-pleading, “so it’s not you, I promise, and I can find a way to pay back my debts, I know Roman wants me gone and Logan wants s-samples, and I can do that. It’s fine, it’s worth it, just… I miss home. So bad. Even the parts I used to hate.”
“I’m sorry,” Patton said in the most honorable way he had, the low, agonized call of I repent and I regret. “If we could— I promise we would, Virgil. It’s not your fault, you have no debts here. You deserve to go home.”
Virgil’s face was miserable to even witness, the way faltering hope had been crushed under the weight of his worst suspicions being confirmed. Patton reached for him automatically, his attempts to comfort his friend coming out as a soft empathetic cry instead, and that wounded sound was all it took for Virgil’s self-control to finally break.
He crumpled all at once, a breezecatcher with its tether cut, crashing to the sand below. The top of his head butted gently against Patton’s side, a mirror of the way Patton so often sought comfort from him, and he began to cry in earnest, as though releasing months of built-up misery.
Disciplined, Patton remembered with a pang of bitter sorrow, and let his Deathworlder finally weep for everything that had been taken from him.
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izzyfandoms · 3 years ago
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A Sleep So Sweet - Chapter Eleven
When Emile discovered he was the soulmate of the prince of a magical species known as Beings, he did not know how to react. Beings were terrifying, powerful creatures, who often did not care for humanity, and, in their first meeting, his soulmate, the sleep prince, seemed to be no different.  
Will Emile fall in love with his soulmate, or are they simply not meant to be?
SHIPS: Remile, Moxiety
WARNINGS: Attempted kidnapping, discussions of murder, deception
GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash @selfcarejanus
A SLEEP SO SWEET TAGLIST: @spellingwillbethedeathofme @unicornofdarknessstuff
Masterpost
A Sleep So Sweet Masterpost
Emile awoke to an aching head, and for the first few seconds he was disoriented, unsure of what had just happened. He was in his bed, he realised that after a moment, tucked under his covers with his head on his pillow.  
But the light was on, so he clearly hadn’t simply gone to bed after an ordinary day.
What had happened?
Then, memories began to flood back into him. He had been alone on that street, and then he hadn’t been. Love had... tried to kidnap him? The details were fuzzy. He had been filled with only love when he’d looked at them, there hadn’t been much room for any other thoughts.
And then... Virgil had shown up. And Patton, too, Emile thought. He had passed out just after being pushed into a memory like he had been dunked underwater, so that must have been Patton’s doing.
Okay. He had been almost kidnapped, then he had been rescued, then he had passed out, and now he was in his bed.
Clearly, Patton and Virgil had brought him here.
Emile let out a deep breath, his head still aching.
Well, maybe there was an upside to being stalked by Sleep’s Being friends. It meant he had been rescued from... whatever it was Love had been planning to do to him.
But... Love probably wouldn’t have tried to kidnap him if he wasn’t the soulmate of the sleep prince. Probably. Well, Emile did not know that for sure, but it was pretty likely.
Whatever it was that Love had been planning on doing to him, it probably wouldn’t have been particularly pleasant.
Emile sat up. Hopefully Virgil and Patton were still in his apartment, so he could thank them.  
He slowly got out of bed, feeling his head continue to ache, but he decided to ignore it. He could take painkillers after he thanked his saviours. Then, he walked out of his room, heading down the hallway and checking each room that he passed as he did so, finding nothing, until he finally reached the living room.
The first thing he noticed was that Virgil and Patton were sat down on his couch. They looked up at him in unison, and Patton immediately gave him a smile.
Then, he noticed that there was someone else standing in his living room.
Sleep.
Emile blinked, staring at Sleep and freezing in place.
Sleep was here. Sleep was in his apartment. Sleep was staring at him, a look of concern on his face.
“You’re okay,” Sleep said, sounding relieved.  
He took a step towards Emile, and Emile just stared at him.
“What- what happened?” Emile asked.
Patton stood up from the couch. “A Being of love tried to kidnap you. We stopped him.” There was a look of concern on his face. “Are you okay?”
Emile’s head hurt, and the details of what had just happened were still a little fuzzy. He wasn’t exactly the most okay he had ever been.
“What happened after I passed out?”
“The Being of love managed to escape,” Virgil said. “I tried to catch them, but they had an ally that made it difficult to follow them. And we were more focused on making sure you were alright.”
“Are you alright?” Patton asked, taking a step closer to Emile. “I checked you for injuries, but I couldn’t see anything. Are you hurt?”
Emile paused, looking down at himself. His head still ached – like something had been ripped out of it, which he supposed the love for Love had been – but the rest of his body seemed fine. Of course, he was also just a little bit terrified. He had almost been kidnapped! What would have happened if Love had succeeded? Would he have been hurt, tortured, killed?
Emile swallowed.
“My head hurts,” he said. “But I’m otherwise fine.”
“Oh, I wish I could cure your headache!” Patton said sadly. “If only I was a Being of healing, instead of a Being of memory.” He then perked up. “Oh! I can give you a memory of sometime before you had a headache. Would that help?”
He took a step towards Emile and then raised one hand.
Emile shook his head. “No, no. Thank you, but that’s alright. I’ll just take some painkillers.”
Patton lowered his hand. “Okay!” He gave Emile a bright smile, and Emile gave him a small, slightly tired smile in return.
Sleep cleared his throat, catching Emile’s attention, and he realised that Sleep was still staring at him. It was almost creepy, but Emile still couldn’t find it in himself to find Sleep scary. Emile was a little uncomfortable, though. He and Sleep were... not together, but they were soulmates. That made things a little awkward, at least for Emile.
“We need to find them. Attempting to kill the soulmate of a prince is a high crime. They must be stopped and suitably punished.”
Emile’s brow creased. “What are you going to do to them?” he asked worriedly.
Patton and Virgil exchanged a look that Sleep did not seem to notice. He waved his hand dismissively.
“Oh, they’ll be killed, of course.”
Emile gasped. “Killed?” he exclaimed.
The thought of someone – even a Being – being killed was... horrifying! And especially being killed because of Emile. Sure, it wasn’t exactly his fault that they had tried to kidnap him, but he was the one they had been after.
“Of course,” Sleep said, like the thought of killing someone meant nothing to him. “I mean what other punishment would be suitable?”
“Anything but that!” Emile took a step towards Sleep, a pleading expression on his face. “Please, don’t kill them.”
“But... they tried to kidnap you,” Sleep said, confused. “Who knows what they were going to do to you? You could’ve been killed!”
“I know,” Emile said. “But, please, don’t kill anyone. Especially not for me.”
Sleep stared at him for a few moments, seeming to be searching his face for something. They stood in silence for a few seconds, and not even Virgil and Patton said anything while this happened. Then, Sleep took a step back, turning his head to look at Virgil and Patton.
“Could you give Emile and I some time alone?” he asked.
Virgil stood up, nodding.
“Okay!” Patton said. He gave them a smile. “Have fun, you two!”
Then, he reached out and took Virgil’s hand into his own, turning his smile onto him. It turned softer, fonder, and, for a moment, Emile felt like he was intruding on their little moment, especially as Virgil gave Patton a small, fond smile in return.
After a few seconds of this, Virgil and Patton disappeared. Patton turned into a blur and Virgil turned into a patch of darkness that seemed to stain the air, before they were both completely gone, and Emile and Sleep were left alone.
Emile was suddenly even more aware of the uncomfortable situation he and Sleep were in. He turned back to Sleep.
“So, um... why did you want to be alone?”
Sleep walked over to Emile, and Emile was now aware of the fact that Sleep was quite a bit taller than him – not nearly as tall as Virgil, nor as tall as Green, Red or October, but still towering over Emile. Well, that wasn’t particularly hard, given how small Emile was (though he was taller than Patton), but it was still something Emile took notice of.
Emile felt his cheeks warm slightly, which he hoped wasn’t obvious. He may not have been exactly together with Sleep, but he could still appreciate his handsomeness.
The thought that he was just as handsome as Remy crossed Emile’s mind, and he immediately shoved that thought deep, deep down. Nope. No, no, no. He was not going to think about a man not his soulmate like that, no matter how not-together he and his soulmate were.
Emile shook his head to remove the thoughts from his head. Then, he remembered that Sleep was still stood in front of him, and now giving him a quizzical look.  
“Are you alright?” Sleep asked instead of answering Emile’s question.
For some reason – perhaps because Sleep was his soulmate, no matter how complicated the situation was – Emile wanted to be honest with him, to not just say he was fine, which would have been a lie.
“Um... I’m not sure,” he admitted. He swallowed. “Why did you want to be alone?”
“So I could get your honest answer. Not one that was tainted by others around us,” Sleep answered like it was simple. He paused. “What do you want me to do with the Being of love? Would you really not like me to kill him?”
Emile nodded firmly. “Please don’t.”
“What should I do with him instead?”
Emile stared at him, a little surprised. “You’re really listening to me?”
“They were after you,” Sleep answered with a shrug.
Emile watched Sleep for a few moments, searching his face for sincerity. There didn’t seem to be any signs of a lie in his expression. He seemed... genuine.
Huh.
“I... don’t know what you should do with them. Maybe imprisonment? I don’t know,” Emile answered honestly. “Just... don’t kill them. Please.”
Sleep stared at him for a few moments, before he nodded.
“Okay.”
Emile relaxed, and he offered Sleep a slight smile. “Thank you.”
Sleep gave him a small smile in return, before nodding.
Emile’s eyes drifted to Sleep’s eye, to the soulmark on his eye: the crescent moon with three stars. He wanted to look down at his wrist, to the matching soulmark on his skin, but his eyes could not leave his soulmate’s face.
He leant in slightly, subconsciously, and he could see Sleep matching the movement.  
But what about Remy?
That thought shocked Emile out of the movement, and he took a step back.  
What was he doing?
And why had the thought of Remy stopped him?
He shook his head, looking down for a moment at his wrist. The soulmark was covered, but he knew it was there. He was tempted to pull up his sleeve and look at it properly, but he had already committed every detail of it to memory. He did not need to.
He coughed, clearing his throat, before he looked back up at Sleep, who was staring at him.
“So, um... have you been spending time amongst humans?” Emile asked awkwardly.
Sleep stared at him for a few more seconds, searching his face for something, before he finally spoke.
“Yes,” he said. “I even... made a new friend.”
Emile perked up. “Really?”
The corner of Sleep’s lip quirked upwards.
“Is that surprising? Am I that unlikeable that you’d think I can’t make friends?”
Emile’s face warmed, and he hurried to correct him.
“No, no. You- you're not-” He couldn’t find the right words, so he sighed, looking down at himself for a moment. “I’m glad you’re making friends and getting to know humans.”
Sleep paused. “Yes. I am.” There was a moment of silence. “He’s... teaching me about cartoons. Patton says you like them, too.” His words came out a little awkward.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!” Emile said, a smile spreading across his face. He bounced on the balls of his feet. “I might have to meet them some day!”
Sleep’s brow creased. He paused, hesitant. “Right...” he trailed off.
There were a few moments of awkward silence, before Sleep spoke again.
“I... should probably go. I will need to speak with my father, the king, about what we’re going to do with the Being of love when we find them.”
Emile deflated slightly. “Right. Yes.”
There was another pause, before Sleep took a step back.
“I’ll... see you again sometime soon,” he said.  
And then, before Emile could say anything else, he was gone, and Emile was alone. He stared at the spot Sleep had been stood, before he let out his sigh, his right hand drifting to his left wrist, his fingers lingering over the spot where his soulmark was.
Well, that was... weird.
Then, Emile heard a notification from his phone, and he reached down to his pocket and pulled it out. He switched it on, and noticed that he had a message from Remy.
He smiled without thinking about it, and quickly unlocked it to read the message.
Remy
Hey
Emile immediately began to type out a message.
Emile
Hi!
How are you doing?
And soon, he was so engrossed in his conversation with Remy that he almost forgot about his encounter with Love.
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dndeceit · 9 months ago
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It's hard for me to pic favorites because I have so many, but here are some stand-outs:
From Time Immemorial is a LAMP Soulmate/Vampire AU where they're soulmates born centuries apart. Very cute. (One of the first fics I read for SaSi, before I was even properly in the fandom.) The series How Do We Stack Up? is an interesting take on a Superhero/College AU. Logan is a telepath and upon learning his other friends have super powers takes it upon himself to manage the situation. (I think the endgame was Roceit, Moxiety?) Morbid Fascination Canonverse Intrulogical, one of the best Fusion themed fics I've read in the fandom. Tiny Tenants Analogical Borrower AU with Logan as a human making a lot of tiny friends. (Another that I read pre-fandom...I love borrower AUs). Sweet Little Lies A very enjoyable canonverse Loceit series about finding common ground. The Other Side(s) Post-SvS Redux, Roman finds himself in an alternate version of the mindscape where everyone's roles were handed out differently. Is There Anything Left of Patton? Not your average zombie AU, and definitely more hopeful than most. Though as you can guess from the title, still guaranteed to make you cry. The Begotten AU is a modern supernatural/horror AU where Roman and Remus are brothers born bearing the souls of ancient monsters. growing up, and other lies told to children A Matilda AU. Just...trust me. believe in sheltering skies and stable earth below A humans are space orcs AU where Roman is an alien ambassador gifted a unique exotic pet... (It's like a sad dog movie, but the dog is Patton.) Mind the Gap and its remix fall into a hole you couldn't see are both extremely trippy takes on Janus's role in the mindscape. (The latter is an Inception fusion, but you don't have to be familiar with the movie.)
If litterally anyone sees this post, pls reply with your favorite sanders sides fics!! I need to be either overwhelmed with joy or have my heart ripped out I havnt decided yet
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sleepyvirgilprompts · 4 years ago
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“So, really, it was the only thing--” Virgil yawned, cutting off his sentence.
“Awww,” cooed Patton. “Time for bed, Vee?”
“It is getting late,” Virgil agreed. Roman and Logan looked at each other, and Virgil could see what they were thinking. ‘Who is this man who can talk to Virgil like that?’ Concealing a smirk, Virgil said, “Good night,” kissed Patton’s forehead, and left.
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pun-master-logan · 3 years ago
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What Happens In The Castle, Stays in The Castle
Chapter one can be found here, previous chapter can be found here
Chapter 12
Remus pushed Patton up against the wall, kissing him passionately. He missed this; Patton against his body, the taste of his lips. They both did. All Remus wanted was to stay in that moment forever.
He trailed his lips down Patton’s neck, tickling him with soft kisses. Patton giggled. Remus drank it up. He loved Patton’s laugh. He could listen to it forever and it would never grow old. Remus did what he could to make Patton keep laughing.
“Remus...Remus,” Patton said through laughter as he feignly pushed Remus away. “You have sword practice.”
“There’s a different sword I want to play with.”
Remus sucked on Patton neck, drawing out a moan. Remus loved Patton’s moan almost as much as his laugh.
***
“Stupid Remus.” Roman kicked a stone. “We were supposed to start practice an hour ago.”
“He’s probably still asleep,” Virgil said with a yawn.
“You’re right, he’s always sleeping late, go wake him for me.”
“Yes my lord.”
Virgil trekked his way up to the prince’s bedroom. Being as tired as he was, the journey felt taxing.
As he neared the room, he could hear quiet moans and gasps that made him think someone was in pain. Had the prince gotten hurt?
“Remus,” he heard Patton whimper as he walked through the door.
Patton was the one hurt. Virgil felt a spike of adrenaline as he rushed to the back of the room to help his friend.
“Virgil!” Patton turned red as he pushed Remus away and covered himself with the curtain in one fluid motion.
Remus stood and turned to see Virgil. They stared at each other awkwardly.
“Um...good morning,” he said hoarsely.
Virgil left the room as quickly as he entered.
“Virgil, wait!” Patton chased after him, grabbing Remus’ robe on the way out. “Virgil!”
Virgil turned around. “The prince!”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Your secret lover is the prince,” Virgil said quieter.
“I wanted to tell you, but I...”
“I get it, you don’t trust me.”
“It’s not that, it’s just...” Patton couldn’t find his words.
“Tell your lover he has a sword fighting practice to get to, I have a job to go back to doing.” Virgil started walking down the hall.
“He wants me to go to the Crofter Isles with him.”
Virgil froze. Patton got closer to him.
“I haven’t answered him yet.”
Virgil didn’t look at him. “Do you want to go?”
“I want you to come too,” Patton said.
Virgil looked at Patton briefly, seeing the hopefulness in his eyes before looking away again.
“I’ve never left the castle grounds, let alone the kingdom.”
“It’ll be an adventure,” Patton said.
Virgil laughed humorlessly. “An adventure.”
“Please don’t make me pick between you two because I can’t.” Patton felt like his heart was splitting in half. “I love you, but I love Remus too.”
“I need...time,” Virgil said. “I need to be alone right now.”
“I can give you that,” Patton said.
“Spend the night with Remus again, I don’t...I need to be alone.”
Virgil walked away. Patton watched as he walked out of sight. He wanted to chase after Virgil, comfort him, tell everything would be okay. Since he couldn’t, he adjusted his robe and walked back to Remus’ room, his heart aching.
***
I’ve been waiting for this moment, I’ve been daydreaming about this for like a year, but couldn’t make myself focus and write it until now
I take constructive criticism
Tag list: @gray-skies-and-pink-clouds, @glitchybina, @lunatatic, @morgan-leaf, @therapysides
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