#patton sanders fluff

[ruleroftheforest05]

I had the idea of Patton having seasonal depression while at work and idk what to do with it so here’s random blurbs from someone going insane at Dominos.

Picture this:

It’s Virgil’s first holiday with Thomas and the others when he notices Patton being quiet, that he’s staying to himself more often and won’t go out unless it’s for a video.

Roman saying that it’s just something he does and not to question it.

Logan of course knows what’s going on but doesn’t say anything because Patton always gets defensive about the subject.

Virgil forcing himself to talk to Patton about it because he knows that leaving him alone wouldn’t be okay for him or Thomas.

Idk, I just think it’s cool

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[lefaystrent]

Suspire

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic LAMP

Summary: Roman's favorite weighted blanket is ruined.

Roman wouldn't say that he adjusts well. He merely finds ways to cope.

AO3 Link: click here

-------------------------------------------------------

It's just a blanket.

Roman is an adult. He has a job. He buys his own groceries, and he pays his portion of the rent on time. He keeps up with his student debt even when some months he hangs on by his fingernails.

It's just a single blanket.

Roman has other things in his life to be happy about. He has his paintings and keyboard. He has his dearest friends whom he lives with. He's active in his local theater community and often lands roles. He has a roof over his head, parents who care for him, a brother who he can stand sometimes. A car that works.

It's just a fucking blanket.

That's what he tells himself over and over as he stares vacantly at the ripped threads. The tear that had been snagged wide open, and the weighted material inside quickly coming outside. He holds it, remembering the marvelous weight on his shoulders, the pressure on his back, the comfort it gave him. The security and warmth. The way he will never feel it again. How he can't go back and fix it.

He can't afford another one right now. It's one of those tight month's budget-wise. And even if he could, it would not be this one.

Roman holds his blanket and unravels alongside it.

***

Roman wouldn't say that he adjusts well. He merely finds ways to cope.

He takes longer showers. The sizzling pinpricks of water cascade over him, beating down on his shoulder blades. It's too hot, close to boiling, but the burn is nice even if his skin begs him to stop. If he stands directly under, it's almost encompassing. It's almost enough.

He wears more layers. Roman tends to add a jacket over any attire anyway. What's another sweatshirt under? Or a scarf tied protectively around his neck? It doesn't matter that this too is overheating. His bones are brittle, and he needs to wrap them somehow. The skin is not enough. It bruises far too easily.

The most embarrassing thing he tries is wedging his whole body into or under anything that may work as a substitute. He tears apart his room testing this and that and wants to cry in frustration as he lays on the carpet with his entire mattress smothering him. He steals all the pillows in the house when he's sure the others are out, and he piles them up. But burrowing into them is too soft and leaves him more frustrated. He crawls under the couch one day and nearly has a panic attack when the front door unlocks and Logan walks in. He plays it off as having lost the remote. He can't bear to admit the truth.

That is, until he's left with no other choice.

***

Roman sits at the dining table working on an art project involving thousands of multi-colored beads. His desk in his bedroom simply isn't large enough, so here he is.

Patton enters the kitchen behind him, and Roman knows its him by the smell of his eucalyptus scented shampoo. Then he sees freckled arms emerging over his shoulders, wrists adorned in friendship bracelets, and they snake around Roman's collarbone. Roman's hands fix in mid-air, eyes going blank as Patton presses up against his back and rests his chin on the top of Roman's head.

"You're so creative," Patton praises, and that alone could usually keep him comfortably warm long into the cold night. But everywhere that Patton touches him, every press of muscle and firm flesh, it scorches in the most pleasant burn.

"I can't wait to see it when it's done," Patton says, and Roman can feel the hum of his voice, how it vibrates his scalp and dances down the back of his neck. A shiver shoots up his back, and Roman cannot dedicate his attention to anything else if he tried.

Roman takes too long to respond, too frozen in his posture.

Patton notices. "Kiddo? You okay there? Was I not supposed to see?"

As if the art piece means a damn to him in this moment. What matters to him with eye-opening crystal clarity is that Patton's arms are loosening and his weight shifts so that he's not leaning against him as much. The loss of that is an incomparable grief.

Roman drops what he's holding, uncaring that some of the beads clatter off the side of the table to skitter across the floor. His hands clutch at Patton's wrists and fold them back around his neck. He draws the blessed weight against him once more, and he keeps it there, scared to let it go. Scared to be exposed once more.

"Roman?" Patton's tone is careful now, wary that something is wrong. His head settles back on top of Roman's, but his face nestles into the side of his hair, the edge of his glasses barely grazing. His voice whispers at his ear, "Did something happen?"

Yes, something happened. Roman's favorite weighted blanket is ruined and he's acting like a child about it. The shame excavates a pit in his stomach. There are depths to it that he doesn't wish to look at, let alone express.

"Can you–" Roman begins, but there's a lump caught in his throat. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, too small and full of trepidation. He swallows and blinks rapidly. "Can you stay? Like this?"

"Hugging?" Patton asks to clarify. Roman doesn't think he's mocking him. Patton would never mock. He wouldn't judge. Not this. Never this. Please don't judge him for this.

"Mmhm," Roman hums, because if he doesn't use words he won't sound so pathetic, yet he immediately fails. The vocalization comes out high-pitched and needy, and tears spring to his eyes unbidden. He doesn't dare blink his eyes now.

Patton doesn't answer at first, and Roman is enormously relieved that they can't see each other's expressions. Roman fears what he would see on Patton's face, and if Patton could see him right now? He doesn't think he could hold on to his composure.

"Okay," Patton says, voice flower-petal soft. "We can stay like this. However long you want. I don't mind."

Patton skims his nose back and forth over Roman's hairline. His hands spread out, palms covering the top if Roman's chest. His hold is a cradle, gentle and safe, and it holds him together and doesn't let him fall apart. The arms tighten around him, compressing, and Roman holds them right back.

***

Patton becomes his saving grace.

He is wonderful in that he needs no explanation. His affections are given freely, without cost, whenever Roman needs them or even when he doesn't realize he needs them. Patton starts to hug him more often and cuddle him during movie nights. He ruffles Roman's hair as he passes by, or he grabs him by the hand when he's excited. Sometimes he'll trail his fingertips over Roman's face in lazy lines that set his mind at ease.

It's exhilarating.

Roman can't get enough. The need never ceases, and Patton is just one person. He cannot always be at Roman's beck and call. Patton has work and outings he leaves for, same as everyone else. And when he's home, it doesn't mean he's available at all hours. Like the middle of the night for instance.

Roman stands at Patton's firmly shut bedroom door like a sad dog. His fists tighten into the thighs of his sweatpants. What did he expect really? That Patton's door would be wide open at two in the morning? That he'd spy light on under the door and get the courage to knock? Patton said he was there for Roman any time, but that doesn't mean Roman gets to take advantage and disrupt his sleep schedule just because Roman is too pathetic to fall asleep without his blanket.

Patton has done so much for him lately. He's good like that, a saint. Roman can't monopolize him. It wouldn't be fair.

Then why does he continue to stand there in the dark hallway? A damsel in distress waiting for his prince to save him? Or hoping the door will magically open and he receive some form of pity.

He's worse than pathetic. He's absolutely rotten.

A sliver of light illuminates the hall, a door squeaking open. Roman nearly jumps out of his skin and looks behind him where Logan stands in the doorway to his own bedroom.

"Roman?" Logan says, looking just as surprised. "I didn't think you'd be up this late. Don't you have work in the morning?"

"Heyyy, Specs," Roman gets out tremulously. He scratches at the back of his head, searching for some excuse. Think of something, damn it. "I uh, yeah. I've got work in the morning. Just...out for a stroll."

"A stroll?" Logan repeats. His brow raises and he's giving Roman that look that he gives him all the time, like he's stupid and not worth his time.

Roman crosses his arms and stares down at his bare feet. "Yeah, I can stroll where I want. What are you, the hall monitor?"

"I never claimed to be, nor would I want to. You live here; walk where you wish."

"Good, I'm glad we've covered this," Roman replies. He whips his head up when Logan breezes by him down the hall. "Wait, where are you going?"

Logan sends him a bemused glance. "I was going to make a light snack before bed. Why are you following me?"

"Don't try to distract me and just answer the question!"

"I did, Roman."

"Oh... well, answer it again!"

That gets an actual snort out of Logan. Roman shuffles behind him into the kitchen as if locked in a gravitational pull. He watches him pull out a loaf from the bread box along with a tub of butter from the fridge. Roman dithers there observing, reluctant to leave. Logan must accept that Roman has no intention of leaving him alone because he gestures to the bread. "Want some?"

Roman looks between the spreadable butter and bread. "Are you just eating buttered bread?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "No, I was planning to eat buttered toast with jam. But if you're not interested..."

"No, you can make me some," Roman swiftly interrupts while trying to make it sound like it's something Logan should be honored to do.

Logan extracts another slice of bread. He plugs up the toaster oven. "So, couldn't sleep?"

"And what if I couldn't?"

Logan sighs, "Not everything is a challenge, Roman."

Roman shifts self-consciously and mutters, "Not with that attitude, Gay Jude."

Logan smiles a little bit after he inserts the bread to be toasted. "Ah, The Beatles. Would you like to hear some interesting facts about them?"

Roman has nothing else to do so he shrugs. Logan enlightens him while they wait for the little ding. Roman snags the jar of crofters out of the fridge before Logan gets a chance, and Roman smirks victoriously at him but spreads the jam on Logan's toast in apology. They eat and drink water, and Logan asks if he's going to go to bed now.

Roman's brows crease. "Actually, why are you up?"

Logan adjusts his glasses, a tell that he's been caught doing something of mild embarrassment. "I was reading a novel."

"That good, huh?" Roman quips with a grin. He and Logan share a surprising amount of similar taste for literature, so Roman doesn't doubt that the writing is less than phenomenal if it's enough to keep his favorite nerd up into the wee hours of the night.

"I would tell you about it, but then you would chide me for giving you spoilers whether or not you intend to read it."

"Mm, I probably will," Roman agrees.

"Then if you don't require anything else, I really must insist we both go to bed. It will be difficult enough to rise later this morning."

"What if I did require something else?" Roman suggests before he can bite his tongue.

And Logan, dependable Logan who at least always hears him out, turns to him fully. "I am all ears, as they say. Which is a ridiculous saying; we only have but two."

Roman doesn't laugh or tease as he usually would. And maybe that tips Logan off more than it should.

"Roman?" he prompts. Because he's so smart, he deduces, "Does this pertain to why you're up so late?"

Roman's gaze strays. It's dark in the kitchen. They didn't bother turning on a light, letting the streetlight guide them from outside the kitchen window. It's too obscured for Logan to see the heat in his cheeks or how he picks nervously at his nails.

Roman gnaws at the inside of his cheek. "It doesn't...not have to do with it."

"You're being vague. That's not like you."

"You don't know what I'm like."

"And you've been defensive. More so than usual. You are upset about something."

Roman just about chokes on air. "What?! No. Nooo, I'm not."

"Was it something I did?"

That punches Roman in the gut. The concern Logan is giving him, it knocks his feet right out from under him and has the truth spilling from his lips. "No, Logan, I just want a hug!"

Roman is infinitely more glad than ever that it's too dark to see. His face is on fire, and he can't look in Logan's direction.

"Happy now?" Roman asks bitterly.

"Roman, if you wanted physical affection, all you had to do was ask."

"What."

He's enveloped in a strong embrace.

Oh. Ohhhh.

Hugs are different. Different people give different hugs. Roman knows this, he does. He's had hugs throughout his life. He's not like, touch-starved or anything. It's just– it's like a reminder. A reminder with all the force of a slap to the face.

He had been so focused on Patton's hugs that he never thought to ask the others. Why would he? He never really did before. Things have just been hard since he lost his blanket, his comfort item. It's not usually like this. Roman's not usually like this, so dependent or desperate for attention.

In Logan's arms, he feels all of that melt away. In fact, his whole body melts into the embrace. A rush of air coaxes out from deep within his lungs as Logan's arms secure around his back. One hand hooks behind Roman's head and pulls him into the crook of his neck. The scent of Logan's faded cologne and laundry detergent fill his nostrils. There's lavender mixed with something else he can't distinguish but is wholly welcome and soothing.

Logan rubs circles into his back, and Roman leans heavily into him. Roman's arms raise like anvils hang off them, and it's all he can manage to circle them around Logan's waist and hang on for dear life.

"Is this satisfactory?" Logan asks. Roman might would answer him if not for the fingers scratching patterns into his scalp. His toes curl in bliss, and his mind sinks into fog. He buries his face further into Logan's neck and shoulder as if he can crawl into Logan's chest and hide there.

"I'll take that as a yes," Logan muses and squeezes him gently.

Roman doesn't make it back to bed for a while.

***

Logan joins Patton in the free affection initiative. Roman wonders if he and Patton discussed this or if Logan is doing it of his own volition. Either way, there is a definite increase in Logan's deviated mannerisms around Roman.

He pats him more on the back. He holds his hand when they sit next to each other. And there's a couple times Logan goes so far as to kiss his forehead. That left Roman blustering and bumbling like an idiot for hours after, because who is this person dressed like Logan? Surely not his nerd. Still, he can't deny the giddiness it evokes.

Things get a bit easier from there. The more it happens, the more he can normalize it. The more he normalizes it, the more he doesn't have to feel ashamed, right? If someone like Logan would go to the trouble...he doesn't have to feel silly about it, right? He can still be taken seriously?

Roman aches less for his blanket. The pain remains, but it's bearable. He feels less likely to break down in a sobbing mess, and that's progress. Right?

Virgil suspects something is going on.

It was bound to happen. He never stops watching out for them or simply watching them. If Patton hadn't accidentally found out about Roman's predicament, Roman thinks that Virgil would have been the first to suspect. As it is, Virgil observes the way that Patton and Logan act around Roman, and it's just enough different than normal. Just out there enough for him to see.

"Are you guys dating?" Virgil blurts out of the blue one day.

It's just the two of them at home, chilling on the couch together watching TV. Roman figured Virgil was having a bad anxiety day from the noncommittal responses he's been giving and how he keeps biting at his nails. Obviously, there have been other topics plaguing his thoughts.

"Who?" Roman asks, because really, who? Roman is single and proudly on a quest to love himself. Virgil knows this. Or at least, he thought he did.

Virgil squirms in his seat like he can't find a comfortable position. "Nevermind, just forget it."

"Well now I really can't forget it."

Virgil groans and buries his face into his hands. "You. And Logan, and Patton. Are you guys dating? If you are, it's whatever. I just would think you guys would tell me."

Roman gives him a semi-horrified look. Not all the way horrified, because Roman is a catch, and his friends are equally catch-worthy, but that's just... that's not how they are together.

"No? Why would you think that?"

Virgil gives him a look. "What else am I supposed to think? You guys have been acting all weird. You can't deny it. I'm not crazy. Or blind."

"Weird how? No seriously, I'm being for real."

"You know. Like all soft? And touchy feely?"

Roman can't help but quirk a smile at how awkward Virgil is acting, as if it pains him to say something so sappy. It's easy to fall into his confident persona. He leans in closer. "Aww, are you feeling left out, Emo?"

Virgil shoves him away. Not with his hand but with his leg because he has to be extra. "Okay, if you're just gonna be a dick about it, I can just go to my room."

And the bravado rushes out as quickly as it arrived. He doesn't want Virgil to leave, and he certainly doesn't want Virgil to entertain the notion that Roman is making fun of him maliciously.

Virgil stays long enough for Roman to fall into contemplation. Virgil peaks up at him and sees Roman looking back at him, completely serious.

"What?" Virgil asks, and there's a bit of a snarl there. Okay, Roman probably deserves that.

"We're not dating," Roman says quietly.

Virgil doesn't believe him. Or at least, he's suspicious of what's not being said. "Then what's up with you guys? Something's going on, and I..."

And Virgil isn't a part of it. He's on the outside looking in. More than that, he thinks they're excluding him on purpose.

Impulsively, Roman says, "Can I ask you something? In all seriousness?"

Virgil's eyes peer at him in narrowed slits, cautious and curious. Roman can see his inner debate, weighing his options of pushing Roman or letting it go or maybe even getting up to leave altogether. It'd be fair; Roman is answering him with a question of his own. Roman isn't sure he would be so patient, in Virgil's place.

But Virgil is more patient than people give him credit for. He nods. "Shoot."

Roman averts his gaze now, suddenly jittery with nervous energy. "Actually, it's more a question of asking you to do something. Can I ask you to do something? And you not laugh at me? Or think I'm weird? You can say no, of course, I just–"

"Roman. Ask away. The worst I can say is no, and I promise not to give you shit for it if I do."

Despite himself, Roman needs a little more assurance. He holds up his hand. "Pinkie promise?"

"Really dude?"

"Virgil, it is a sacred oath."

"Okay, fine, whatever." Virgil threads their pinkies together. "I promise not to be a jerk if you don't."

"Deal," Roman agrees.

"Now, what is it you want to ask me to do?"

"Will you lay on top of me?"

There's no going back. There's no pretending that he misspoke, even as Virgil tilts his head as if he must have heard him wrong. When Roman doesn't budge, Virgil goes stock-still, eyes slowly blowing up wide.

"Uh....what?"

Roman huffs, more frustrated at himself than anything else. "Would you lay on top of me?"

"No, I heard that. I'm just trying to process."

"Then yes or no. You don't need to say anything else. Just yes or no."

And because it's Virgil, he very much has to say anything else. "What do you even mean though? Why?"

Roman groans and waves towards the couch. "Just– you know, I lay on the couch and then you lay on top of me. It's not that complicated, so don't overcomplicate it."

"I overcomplicate going to get a glass or water, Roman. You can't tell me not to overcomplicate you randomly asking me to lay on you."

"I thought you promised you weren't going to be a jerk?"

"I'm not trying to be!" Virgil swipes at his face, his own aggravation mounting. Roman notices that his cheeks are dusted a light pink. "I just don't understand how this relates to anything or why you want me to..."

Roman shrugs sort of helplessly, smile sardonic. "I just do. There's...no trick that I'm playing at, if that's what you're wondering. I want you to lay on me, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less. So would you? No wrong answer."

Virgil looks away a couple of times. He thrums his fingers over his knees, tap, tap, tapping. "I mean, I guess?"

"You guess?"

"Sure then. I'll do it, even if I think I'm the last person you would want to cuddle or whatever, but you'll explain after that?"

"Cross my heart." Roman mimes the motion over his chest.

Virgil stands up. He doesn't move far, just stands there gripping the hem of his hoodie while looking lost. "So..."

Roman scoots down on the couch to where he lays back with his head supported by the couch arm, his legs stretching out along the cushions. He shoves away the embarrassment, the shame, the voice in his head asking what the hell he is doing. Virgil watches him closely, eyes squinted and trying to figure out how to approach.

"Get in here, Emo," Roman calls, holding out his arms.

Virgil grunts and clambers over him. He takes too long to figure out where to put one knee, and Roman adjusts. He spreads out a leg to make room and guides Virgil down. The sides of Virgil's jacket hang over him like a curtain as Virgil hovers in the air, afraid to rest fully against him.

"I'll be heavy," Virgil warns. "You're not going to be able to breathe."

"That's fine, I don't need to," Roman says, half-joking. He's more fixated on tugging at Virgil's shirt to get him to close that last foot of space.

"I better not hear you complain then," Virgil says and finally, finally, drops down on Roman, letting his full weight settle on him.

It's everything that Roman has missed.

Roman can sense Virgil's body from head to toe. Their legs, hips, stomachs, chest, shoulders, all of it pinging across Roman's nervous system at every point of contact. Virgil's arms are folded on either side of Roman's torso, and he can feel the lean limbs against his sides like a harness. Virgil nudges his head stiffly under Roman's chin, and Roman wraps his arms around Virgil's back and holds him tightly to complete the full body hug.

He's sinking into the cushions. His muscles release weeks' worth of tension, letting go and relaxing. He's delightfully sandwiched under Virgil's weight, warmed in his closeness. The warmth is dizzying, like little bumblebees buzzing serenely and drowning him in honey, so sweet and cloying. Virgil's hoodie is a pillow under his palms, and Roman can see why he wears the garment all the time. Roman would wear Virgil all the time if he could.

"Is this it?" Virgil asks, seemingly unimpressed by the magic surrounding them. "Is this what you wanted?"

Roman squeezes more. Virgil wasn't wrong, he's heavy but in the most incredible, indescribable way. Despite the pressure, it's like Roman can breathe again. It's perfect, exactly what he's been craving.

"Hug me any tighter and I'm gonna bruise," Virgil remarks lightly, and something about the words or the tone is more than Roman can take. He breaks.

A shudder shakes him as tears spill over in wet streaks dripping down, salty droplets catching in his mouth. It's abrupt and overwhelming, and it's all coming back to him. The grief, the embarrassment, the shame, the desperate need. He can't stop it, can't hide it. Virgil is right here, and if he doesn't hear the whimper that escapes him, he surely can't ignore when Roman full-on starts sobbing.

"Princey?" Virgil says and sits up quickly. He pushes himself up off of him, and the soothing, wonderful pressure is wrenched away. The cold air bites at his skin in its place. Roman's cries devolve into hysterics, and he can't catch his breath to save his life. Virgil is gaping at him. He sees him in all his wretched ugliness. "Oh shit, what's wrong? Roman? Hey, hey, shhh, don't do that. Please, look at me, why are you crying? Talk to me Roman, I won't laugh, I promise."

Words are beyond him. Roman clings weakly to Virgil's shirt, tugging at him, begging him not to leave with actions and desperation alone. How can he convey his heart shattering to pieces? Or his skin eating itself alive? Or his bones splitting down to the marrow? A keening cry pierces his eardrums. It's a sorrowful weep from his own lips, a sound he didn't think he could make. A sound he's heard in the background for a long time and thought would go away if he ignored it.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Virgil lets out shakily, miraculously interpreting Roman's crazed antics correctly. He stays over Roman, caging him in sweetly with his body. His fingers come up to brush the tears away using the cuffs of his sleeve. "It's alright, sweetheart. Just breathe with me. You're okay, you're okay. I've got you."

Roman is not okay, and Virgil's wild darting eyes share the same sentiment, but if you say a thing enough times, it'll come true by sheer force of will. And if Roman can keep pulling at Virgil, maybe he will go back to crushing him softly.

"What do you want? Do you want this? We can keep laying here. That's okay, Princey. You're okay. You're doing so good, telling me what you need."

Virgil lowers back on him, chest to chest. Roman would hug him in relief if he wasn't too busy turning his face to the side and trying to cover up. He stifles his gasps against the back of his hand. Virgil, thankfully, doesn't pull away his defense. He presses at his chest clumsy and earnest, rubbing his hands over his collar, massaging comfort into him and encouraging him to focus on the motion, to breathe together.

Roman listens to him and hangs on to every word as he talks him through it. Virgil never stops. He speaks far more tenderly than Roman is used to, and it's more astonishing than Logan's recent developments. If Virgil acted like his prickly self, Roman could manage to pull himself together. But Virgil is being lovely in his sweetness, watching him with dark eyes that are ferocious with compassion. It's a gaze that says he'll tear the world apart to keep him safe. Roman doesn't deserve him.

"I'm sorry," Roman whines. It's not enough to sum up his sorrow, yet it's all he has to give.

Virgil looks impossibly more bewildered. He shakes his head and goes back to wiping the tears from Roman's face, so careful in his handling. "Roman, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I'm sorry."

"No, listen to me," Virgil demands and cups his face, making him look right at him. "Obviously, something is going on in that big head of yours. If something is going on, if this has to do with what's up with you and the others, then that's okay, we can talk about it. I'm here for you, man. But if you're apologizing for crying all over me, then I'm gonna affectionately kick your ass. I'd rather you cry here with me than you do it alone or keep it bottled in. That's not healthy. If your brain is telling you that you're a burden to me or something stupid like that, I'll kick your brain's ass too. It can't be mean to you, that's my job."

Roman startles into laughter. It's a sad wheeze more than anything, but Virgil picks up on that. He gives a hesitant, hopeful smile as he brushes his thumbs over Roman's cheekbones.

"There's my Princey. Just keep laughing. I'm a real funny dude."

More wheezy chuckles. More reasons to adore his friend.

"I'm gonna give Patton a run for his money. I've got jokes for days. Wanna hear about belts made out of watches? It'll be a real waist of time."

Roman giggles and leans into Virgil's hands. He closes his eyes.

"And I'll keep going if you want me to. I can do this all day, Princey."

"I'm telling Patton you gave me emotional pun support," Roman murmurs.

Roman can tell by Virgil's voice that he's grinning. "Do it. I'm not afraid."

He opens his eyes again. Virgil moves one of his hands to tuck under his own chin so he can look at Roman more comfortably. The other hand combs through Roman's bangs, straightening them.

"You called me sweetheart," Roman points out in an awed tone.

Virgil doesn't bristle like he expects. If anything, he hunkers down further in his stubbornness. "Yeah? So what?"

"You don't...usually do pet names."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"Is it weird if I said I liked it?"

Virgil lightly flicks his forehead. "It's only weird if you make it weird, sweetheart."

Roman sniffles and wipes at his face to rid himself of any lingering wetness. Virgil allows him time to breathe and get his bearings.

"It's the weight," Roman finally admits. "The warmth and the pressure. I mean, why I asked you to lay on me. I had a weighted blanket, but it got ruined. So Patton and Logan have been helping out where they can. It's easier when they're touching."

Virgil doesn't stop petting at his hair, but he does frown while he parses through his words. "What do you feel like without it?"

"Without the touching and my blanket? Umm, exposed I guess? Anxious. Cold."

"When you don't have your blanket or someone touching you, do you think about it a lot?"

"What do you mean?"

Virgil shrugs, and Roman feels the movement and together with the hair petting, it's enough to have his eyelids flutter and threaten to close. "I mean, when you haven't had that in a while, does it consume your thoughts? Like you're longing for it?"

Roman remembers the night he stood outside Patton's door in the hallway.

All the time. He longs for it all the time these days.

"Yeah," Roman whispers.

"Dude, I think you're touch-starved."

That throws Roman for a loop. "But... I touch people enough? It's not like I'm going years without a hug over here."

Virgil boops him on the nose. "It's doesn't take years. Could just take weeks. Depends on the person I guess. Everyone needs things differently. I think you liked your blanket so much because you were using it to substitute touch. And now that you're starting to get touch more often, your body is trying to adjust. It's like going from eating bread crusts to a full course meal."

"But I..." Roman's mind drifts. Virgil's words resonate as he compares them to his memories.

Yearning, heartache, misery, clinginess, pressure, satisfaction, grief. Is this what's been wrong with him?

"I'm touch-starved?" Roman asks.

Virgil gives him a sympathetic smile. He pats at his head. "I think so. It's not so bad. We can help you."

"You will?"

Virgil snorts and adjusts his position so he's laying more comfortably on Roman, like he's bedding down for the long-haul. "I'm not moving from this spot until dinner at the earliest."

Virgil makes good on his promise. Their roommates come home to find them there, napping the afternoon away. When they wake to the smell of cooking meat, they drag themselves up from the couch and shake the blood back into their limbs. The four of them sit at the table that night to eat and talk.

Roman opens up.

And when he eventually has the money to spare, he doesn't buy a new blanket.

He doesn't need one anymore. He has them.

[yerkes-dodson-curve]

Patton makes bracelets

Headcannon Patton makes all of the sides friendship bracelets they have a colour representing each of them and look like an 8 year old made them BUT he makes sure to hand-give them out to everyone with like the biggest smile :3

Logan and Virgil would seem unimpressed but wear it religiously, every day, no matter what. Roman would wear it every day but lose it after about 2 weeks. Janus would say "thank you SO much, I'm so impressed by the fine craftsmanship, I can tell you spent SO long on it" and wear it around is ankle every day. Patton never finds out he still wears it all the time. Remus eats it the second Patton turns around.

[blackoutbugza]

Hey… If youre maybe posibly taking art requestsssss-

Intruality? Ive been liking it a lot recently and they are very adorable

eepy

[firewolf111]

Hello! I love your writing! :)

Can I request some soft intruality? Potentially Halloween-related, but doesn’t have to be!

Thank you for considering!

Hello! Thank you so much for the ask. Hope you enjoy <3

...................

Remus: *calling out while looking around* Love? Dear? My still beating heart I ripped from a handsome corpse's chest? Hello?

Patton: *jumps out* Boo!

Remus: Oh! There you are! Nice outfit.

Patton: Thanks! I'm a zombie! Did I scare you?

Remus: *beaming* Oh, definitely! I was terrified! *He pulls Patton towards him*

Patton: *giggles* So... I was thinking... since it's Halloween, why don't we watch some horror movies tonight?

Remus: Really? I thought you hated horror movies?

Patton: Well, the gore tends to be a little.... *scrunches his face in disgust* ...much. But I'll be fine. Besides... it just gives me an excuse to hide in your arms. *giggles as he presses his face into Remus's neck*

Remus: I don't want to be the only one having fun tonight. How about I take my dear zombie out on a trick or treating date? I'm sure I can bully Roman into letting us on his side of the imagination for the night. And then, if you still want, we can curl up and watch some cheesy horror movies as we stay up so late, Logan will surely lecture us. And yes, I'll hold you the entire time.

Patton: *beaming* Now that sounds like a splendid night! And you better hold me the whole time.

Patton: I think horror movies may now be my new favorite genre.

[krowfics]

Holding Still (ficlet)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: LAMP for @lamp-appreciation-week

Plot: Virgil is attempting to finish Patton's makeup for Pride

Words: 971

Notes: uhh barely edited, like only a smidge. day 1 prompt was 'hold' i am in fact late i am not in fact surprised. Patton 🤝 me - getting distracted by things out the window

AO3

~~~

“Hold still.”

“Sorry!” Patton said, whipping his head back to position.

Virgil glanced out the window to see it was a squirrel running along a branch outside of it that caught Patton’s attention this time. Maybe he should be annoyed, but he couldn't help just being endeared.

“It's fine, Pat.” he said, returning to the eye shadow.

“You gotta make it easier on our dear emo, Pattycake, it's already so hard for him to remember that eye shadow goes above the eye.” Roman said, ironically focusing on the eye shadow he was blending out under Logan's eye. Virgil had already finished that part anyway.

“Asshole.” Virgil mumbled.

“Hey,” Patton frowned.

Virgil ignored him in favor of turning to Roman and very maturely sticking his tongue out at him. Roman gave a sly smile and dove in for a lightning quick attack of pressing a peck to the hinge of Virgil’s jaw. 

“Wait!” Virgil pulled back but was too late to dodge, he quickly grabbed the nearest mirror to check the damage.

“Oh, calm down Scare-bear, I dodged your glitter.” 

Virgil confirmed that he, in fact, did, but the transfer-proof lipstick he was wearing had failed. Only slightly, Virgil wiped off the speck easily but it was the principle of the matter.

His attention was drawn back to Patton by way of his giggling. Logan next to him was looking with fond amusement, eyes darting between Roman and Virgil.

Virgil huffed, “Come on, let's finish so we can leave at a reasonable time.” He’ll be damned if he put glitter on his face only for them to miss the entire pride event. That wouldn’t happen, probably, but Virgil was nothing if not at least a little nervous about something all the time.

“Fine fine, I'll stop distracting you.” Roman conceded, “I'm sure you need your full concentration to work against your every instinct, dealing with pastels like that.” 

Virgil only rolled his eyes, opting to return to Patton’s face. He settled back into the zone easy enough, subconsciously tuning out the movement of Roman doing Logan’s make up beside them. It was only when he was completely zoned in on the final part of the pastel rainbow that his canvas suddenly moved again.

“Patton.”

“Sorry!” Patton jumped, “There was a sparrow- outside it was- It's gone now, sorry.” he said, sheepishly.

Any irritation he had evaporated instantly, “It's fine. I pulled the brush away in time and it's all stencils anyway so we’re good.”

“I'll stay still.” He said, somehow with confidence, and Virgil loved him so much, but he did not believe him for a moment.

“This part is nearly done, but I really do need you to hold still for the dots.” Patton had requested pastel hearts in rainbow order across his cheeks, which was easy enough being that they already had stencils on hand for that, and then little white dots, almost freckle like. They wouldn't be particularly hard to do but they would be very easy to mess up.

Patton nodded, “I'll be still.”

Logan must've had the same lack of trust in the sentiment because he blindly reached over and grabbed Patton’s hand, squeezing for a moment, and Virgil had an overwhelming urge to lurch forward and… kiss them? Bad idea, considering the make up. He should at least finish it before he ruins it. Well, he hadn't put on Patton's lip tint yet…

Now who's distracted? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and returned to finishing the final heart. He did so, and proceeded to peel off the stencils and add the white speckles with little fanfare. Logan’s hand holding idea must've worked to keep their boyfriend’s attention occupied.

Patton made a chirp in excitement at seeing himself in the mirror after Virgil had finished, gushing over the look and flustering Virgil with praise.

“And done.” Roman announced, somehow having not gotten distracted by Patton’s joy. He held up the mirror to Logan and immediately looked to Patton so he could start with his teasing praises at Virgil’s work, “Our bundle of darkness really isn't allergic to color, it's a miracle.”

Patton meanwhile quickly got distracted again, “Oh oh oh! you're so pretty!” Patton all but gasped at Logan's more glam look.

Logan opened his mouth to speak but only managed a strangled noise at finally seeing Patton, having managed to look straight forward the entire time he was having his makeup done. “Virgil is very talented.” is all he said, eyes not leaving Patton while looking a bit like he was staring at the sun.

“Indeed,” Roman said, “It takes true talent to somehow manage to add to the beauty of Patton’s already perfect face.”

“A mastery of the art form,” Logan agreed.

“I am not wearing enough foundation to handle compliments” Virgil said, face ablaze. 

“But you did such a good job we can't help it!” Patton said, noticeably flushed himself, only adding to the look.

Virgil barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands else he’d smudge his own make up. “We should go if we're ready.” He said instead.

“Oh, fine.” Roman sighed. And Logan stood to gather last minute things, making sure they had water bottles and granola bars and the like.

A few minutes later, Virgil caught Patton staring out the window again, but he didn't interrupt him this time. Patton startled a bit when he noticed Virgil staring, but he smiled, “There's a butterfly.” He explained and indeed there was, but Virgil only gave it a glance, far happier to enjoy his own view.

“Stop being sappy, we're ready to go.” Roman interrupted, causing them both to blush. 

Patton giggled adorably while Virgil scoffed, “That's rich coming from you, you're the sappiest of us all.”

“I accept that title with honor, now come on, Logan's already in the car.”

~~~

taggg @flowercrownsandtrauma

edit after ive woken up and consumed coffee- never let me post things at 1 am oh my god i live in shame (there was a couple minor inconsistencies)

[esmereldapearl]

Hi, this’ll be my first post so bare with me. I’ve never been one to actually post on different social medias and I’m newer to Tumblr too, so if I sound too serious or off that’s probably why. Anyway, to my point;

I am probably going to post a lot of theories or deep dives into different characters from different fandoms and this will be my first! So, here’s a deep dive into Virgil from Sanders Sides; (Spoiler warnings ahead for like EVERY episode)

Let me know if you agree, disagree, or just your thoughts on this if you can, I would like to hear them! I think it would be interesting.

Janus was talking in todays (05/25/24) video, it made me realize that Virgil could’ve left because he wanted someone to be honest with him and show him sincerity, both things Janus hated, and every secret Virgil had would be used against him, his own name was, and that’s why he was afraid to say his name to everyone and now he’s probably realizing Pattons going down the same path he walked, and he’s trying to help his friend but there’s no use. He became closer with Roman because he showed him honesty, he was mean but apologized for his actions and showed him who he is, good and bad, and showed him sincerity when he pushed Thomas to talk to Nico. Virgil showed Roman he was because he was less scared, Roman had shown him who he is and so he will do so too, the purple eyeshadow. In the cheering up episode he was showing things to Roman that he liked, something he didn’t do with everyone because he was afraid of it being used against him, and in the gifting episode he heard Janus against Roman and got angry at Janus because Roman is his friend, someone he can finally trust, someone who won’t use it against him (Janus) or tease him (Remus, DWIT) and he and Roman have a bond where they can tease eachother or make jokes but know they’re jokes because they have trust. Virgil probably realizes that the dollar bill with Roman was special because Romans afraid of Failure and hes feeling like he fails with all his friends who are turning on him, so to give him something personal, or as Janus put it, ploy to his ego, it helps with his insecurity that he’s not significant, Virgil gets that because he had to loose everything he knew to gain what he has now, which is scary and puts you at the bottom of a pit you have to climb out of.

If someone said to you, “I’m not angry” but looked super angry wouldn’t that make you upset? Or if you showed something to them and they said “I really like it” when they have a look of disgust on their face. This is something I feel Janus would do from his mannerisms in the newer videos with Remus.

I think that Janus is someone who can be easily trusted at first, the one you feel finally understands you or is finally nice to you but as you go on with being friends you realize it was all a lie, the relationship’s foundation was built on lies. Remus doesn’t care, nor has he left Janus so their friends. Virgil cared, and left, so Janus is angry at him and uses everything against him- maybe he did it before too. Maybe Virgil saw how the others acted towards him and changed his original motive, sometimes when you see something doesn’t have to be a certain way, you don’t want it to be a certain way. Example being, you can cut the grass with scissors but if you find that tedious or don’t like it, change what you’re doing, make it easier, make it nicer for yourself. Same goes with being around people, you don’t have to be around people who make you upset, or you realize make you upset, because that’s all you know. It’s scary, so scary from experience but when you’re on the other side it’s clearer, nicer, happier— and the fact that Virgil can trust someone so much now that he can finally show them something he likes or the purple eyeshadow is just showing how much better he is, even if it might seem like he’s walking backwards, he’s not, he’s in the clear for the most part.

Virgil is only “going backwards” with saying he’s like the cousin, I don’t think that means he wishes he was back there, I think he means that’s where he’s from, that’s what he knows more, he doesn’t exactly feel like a light side probably, so he’ll assume he just still feels like a dark side. He’s probably afraid that his relationship with Patton is deteriorating over Janus, he’s afraid Patton’s mad at him because of the “I’m not mad at you” but looks upset thing that probably happened with Janus.( I’ve had people do this and it does affect me like that so that’s why I’m saying this) But Virgil would rather protect Patton from him and have Patton dislike him than to stand back and let it happen I’m guessing- I could be wrong though. And, in the video where Janus and Patton are in the woods it’s noted that Janus doesn’t share much about himself to Patton, he might not want people to do what he does in turn.

Maybe that’s why Janus doesn’t like Roman, because he is mean to those he doesn’t trust and then once they know each-other is nice, and trusting and sincere. He doesn’t like him because he didn’t trust him without batting an eye, he realized what road he was on at the start and it crumbled a lot faster than anyone around hims did- immediate, or almost immediate distrust made Janus not like him since there isn’t much to use, just ploys to an ego and that is all. Roman is sincere towards Virgil and Virgil likes that, Janus could be angry that his friend is with someone new and angry at that friend. Janus can make all these remarks and they don’t matter until Roman speaks up and it’s Romans fault. Janus did what he did with Virgil to Roman, found what was important to him, an insecurity, and used it against him. Roman was quick to know the game, but he doesn’t know how to win the game.

All of this, or even some of it could be stuff that people have already realized and known, but I find it intriguing and interesting to think about dynamics and what goes on in peoples heads.

Again, if you want to add, or disagree please let me know, I want to hear what everyone else thinks about this if you’re seeing it- did you already know this? Do you disagree? What do you think is different?

Have a wonderful rest of your day and thank you for listening to my TedTalk.

[tsspromptmonth]

human au with romantic Logan/Patton & "only one of them knows they're dating," fluffy & silly

archiveofourown.org/works/26144215 archiveofourown.org/works/26416942 archiveofourown.org/works/26887369 archiveofourown.org/works/30163443 archiveofourown.org/works/30308391

Order up!

Coffee and Conundrums by @fandomtrash ( @thewickedcompanion )

[faulty-rob]

Cute moceit post. Again you decide platonic or romantic idc

[just-your-average-author]

A Sleeping Dragon

“This movie is completely unrealistic!” spoke out Logan, completely and utterly exasperated during Wreck it Ralph. Family movie nights never went according to plan. “There is no possible way video game characters could interact in that way and frankly, the way the inner workings of electrical units are portrayed is ridiculous.”

Roman sighed. He looked down at Virgil who was laying into him fast asleep. “Logan, it’s just a movie. It's a silly movie. It isn’t meant to be realistic.”

Patton giggled. “Yeah, Lo! It’s just a movie.”

Logan huffed. “I don’t see how someone could enjoy a film when it is so blatantly ridiculous.” Roman rolled his eyes, while Patton just giggled again. “It should have at least some aspect of a realistic component to it.”

”Just watch the movie, Specs,” huffed Roman in annoyance.

Virgil, who was curled up napping in between Roman and Patton with his head in Roman’s lap, stirred. He grunted, very annoyed. “Who woke me up?”

All three sides froze. You did not want to be the person who woke Virgil up. He didn’t sleep much, so when he did, he expected to not be disturbed.

“Well? I’m waiting,” demanded Virgil, now sitting up straight. He looked around in question, arms crossed.

Roman blurted out, pointing an accusatory finger toward the logical trait in the recliner. “Logan was complaining about the movie!”

Logan glared at Roman in indignation. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to speak during the whole movie?” he inquired angrily. He turned to Virgil. “Besides, I would have dropped it if Roman would have just nodded and agreed with me. But no, he had to argue,” he added scowling.

Virgil hid his smirk and instead raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?” In reality, he never actually got mad when he was woken up. He just liked messing with the others (especially Roman) however he could. Virgil figured he could have some fun with this.

”O-oh, well-” stuttered Roman.

“I thought I heard something other than Logan’s voice! I heard someone else who was frankly quite louder than Logan!” interjected Virgil looking up at Roman. Roman paled.

“Ah well, I was just defending the movie that’s all,” he replied, trying to hide his fear and failing miserably. “Simply making conversation.”

Virgil smothered a grin. He loved making Roman nervous. “Well, Roman, we all know you’re a lot louder than Logan; it was probably you who woke me up.”

“Now that’s not always-“

Roman was cut off by his yelp, feeling a poke at his ribs. “No interrupting!” scolded Virgil, this time forgetting to mask the grin and the obvious enjoyment he was getting out of this.

Roman blanched as Virgil’s intentions were made clear. “Virge, I’m sorry! Honest! You can go back to sleep, and we’ll all be quiet okay?” He glanced around to see if any of the other Sides would lend a hand. Logan was pretending to be fascinated by the movie suddenly and Patton was also suddenly too ‘preoccupied‘ to notice. He began to grow very nervous as Virgil crept up closer to him.

“Well, I’m already awake now thanks to you-“ he poked Roman’s side again who squeaked at the touch. Virgil‘s evil smile took up his whole face. “I’m very upset, Roman. My sleep was disturbed.” Roman began whining and backed into the arm of the sofa as Virgil continued to get closer. Patton and Logan finally turned their attention to the two traits in the middle of a standoff.

“Don’t hurt him, Virgil!” pleaded Patton.

“I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry Pat. I won’t hurt him. Physically anyway. His pride might be a little bruised.” Virgil smirked again. Roman continued to plead with the darker side despite knowing full well that nothing would stop what was about to happen.

“Come on, Virgil, please! I promise it won’t happen again! I- EEP!“ A pinch to his side.

“Too late, Princey. In all your years of being a prince, has no one told you the most important rule?“

Virgil paused as if trying to build up even more anticipation. He leaned in so close, that Roman could feel the anxious Side’s breath against his neck.

“Don’t wake a sleeping dragon.”

With that, he pounced on Roman and scribbled all over his torso immediately causing the Prince to break into frantic cackles. He mercilessly tickled all over and despite Roman’s defenses, Virgil was just too fast. Every place he tried to guard, the anxious side would just tickle somewhere else. Roman was hysterically laughing and resorted to calling for help from the others.

“HEEHEHEHELLLPPP!!” He cried through his desperate laughter.

“You shouldn’t require our assistance. You should be able to fight him off yourself. If I’m not mistaken, you supposedly have beaten this so-called ‘Dragon Witch’ which, judging by the name, would seem much more dangerous than the tickle monster,” replied Logan, a teasing smile encompassing his features.

”Oh I’m not sure about that Logan,” joked Virgil. “The tickle monster is pretty vicious.”

Poor Roman turned a bright red. “Stahahahahahahap teheheheasheheing!!”

“Aww Lo, look he’s blushing really hard,” Patton gushed.

Roman just blushed harder at that, the teasing was killing him. He was laughing himself hoarse while Virgil just snickered with no signs of stopping anytime soon. After what seemed like hours, Virgil noticed Roman’s laugh becoming more breathy.

“Well, Princey,” Virgil began. Roman was beside himself laughing, as Virgil’s hands were shoved in his armpits “I think you might have learned your lesson.” Roman nodded frantically. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop on one condition. You say, ‘Virgil, you are the best side in the entire world and I would be nothing without you, and I promise to never disrupt your sleep ever again.’ Can you say that?” Roman squeaked as a response. Virgil chuckled knowing Roman couldn’t possibly; he was laughing way too hard.

“VIRHIHIGLLE YOHOHOHO ARHAHAA AHHHHH!”

“Yes? I am what?”

“BEHEHEHEEHEST SIHIHIHIHDE- OHOHOHO MYHHYHY GOHOHOSH!”

Virgil laughed. “And?”

“IHIHIHI CAHAHAHANT REMEHEHEMBER!!” Roman cried in desperation. Virgil started to feel a little bad.

“Alright close enough.” He finally stopped and poor Princey fell limp, giggling and wheezing for air. Virgil smiled down at him. “Sorry dude. May have gone slightly overboard,” he apologized.

“Hahaha, my stohohomahahach, ohoho mahan.”

Virgil helped him sit up and got him settled. Roman was exhausted, so Virgil let him lay in his lap. “There you go, Sir Sing-a-lot,” Roman mumbled a thank you. The roles were reversed as Roman laid napping on Virgil and the rest of the bunch were threatened to stay quiet by Virgil, lest they get the same treatment Roman did. They all watched the movie in silence.

[naminethewriter]

Monstrously Simple Days at College

Chapter One: Welcome Back

Masterpost | Next | Ao3

Story Summary: Humans and Monsters live together in harmony and that means they all get to go to college together. Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Logan and Patton are big group of friends that may be a bit chaotic with all the different monster cultures they hail from. College itself is hard too, but with them all supporting each other, it can't be that bad, can it?

Content Warnings: None

~~*~~

“Remus, you ass, come down right now! You’re not going to get yourself in trouble five seconds after coming back to campus!”

Roman shields her eyes as she looks up at her brother, shaking out her own wings after the long flight back to college. Their second year was going to begin in only a few days and Remus is not going to ruin her reunion with her partners by being a dick and breaking the flight regulations immediately upon coming back.

Thankfully, it seems to have gotten the message as she watches them divebomb back to the ground, aiming directly for her.

“Don’t you dare, you stinking rat!” she screeches and takes off the ground herself, if only a few inches for the better mobility and reaction time she has in the air. Remus stops her fall only a short distance away from her and grins, his sharp teeth glinting in the sun.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I wasn’t going to actually hit you. Too many witnesses.”

“Ha ha,” Roman deadpans, setting her feet back on the ground. “Let’s just go to the dorms so I can pretend I don’t know you.”

Remus snorts.

“Too late for that, I think everyone on campus who isn’t a first year knows us by now.”

Roman chooses to ignore its comment. She is well aware that last year a few different events happened that made both her and her brother, as well as their group of friends rather well known.

“C’mon.”

She sets off, entering the campus grounds through the huge main gate, Remus close on her heels.

“It’s such bullshit that we can’t just fly on campus. Who the hell decided it was a good idea to enforce no-flight-zones anyway?”

“It’s for privacy and community, which you would know if you had paid any attention during orientation last year. I don’t want any randos to fly up to my windows either, so I completely understand why they forbid it on campus entirely. That and those drone things. They’re creepy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get why we’re not allowed to do it around the dorms, but we’re not at the dorms! We’re basically in a park!”

“Go ask your boyfriend, they know stuff like that!”

“My boyfriend isn’t here! And I can’t fly up to find him because of stupid regulations!”

“Too bad for you.”

Roman quickens her steps as her eyes lock onto the thing she’s been searching for after having spotted it during her landing earlier. A black parasol.

“Why the fuck are you in such a hurry?” Remus complains behind her, but she ignores them, instead weaving skillfully through the crowd to reach her partner.

“My dark and stormy thundercloud! Wait up!” she calls ahead and the parasol comes to a stop as the person holding it turns around. The vampire looks at them with tired, bright purple eyes. They yawn before answering.

“Hello prin—“ They cut themselves off, staring at the chains and jewels attached to Roman’s horns with a look of confusion. “—cess?” they finish, uncertain. It takes Roman a moment to figure out what happened.

“Oh! Yes, feminine day. Our uncle came by a few weeks after our birthday and gave me a bunch of horn-jewelry as a present. Apparently, grandma told him I was ‘developing an interest’ and he dug through his horde. He had no idea I was using them as pronoun indicators, but he said he knew a dragon a few centuries back that did the same thing! So, I seemed to have revived a trend without even knowing it!” Roman laughs and Virgil’s shoulders drop in relief.

“I see. I was really confused for a second ‘cause they didn’t trigger anything. And I felt bad assuming just because the jewels are pink that it’s for a feminine day.”

“I can’t deny that that’s part of why I choose it for feminine days, you’re good. I’ll have Logan cast the identifying spell on them as soon as possible so that you don’t get confused by the rest.” It is practical to have a witch for a friend, who can just enchant her jewelry so that people could tell what they indicated with only one look.

“Speaking of Logan, have you seen them yet?” Remus cuts in, suddenly leaning very close to Virgil’s face. Roman hadn’t seen it move and blinks in surprise, but Virgil doesn’t seem startled in any way and just pushes Remus away from them.

“No. I literally just got here myself.”

“An amateur mistake. I arrived here yesterday. It was a lot quieter then,” a smug voice comments to the right of them. Roman turns to see her other partner Janus standing a few feet away, smiling self-satisfactorily at the group.

“What a blessed day to have my eyes fall onto my partners so quickly!” Roman exclaims delightedly and pulls Janus in for a hug. He is more open to public displays of affection than Virgil, who prefers cuddles on the couch.

“Everyone who sees me should consider themselves blessed,” Janus jokes and Virgil rolls their eyes at him.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, kitty.”

Janus playfully hisses at them and they hiss back, before Remus, again, suddenly inserts herself back into the conversation.

“If you’ve been here a while, have you seen Logan yet?” he asks again, pouting.

“Maybe,” Janus grins. “I won’t tell you for free.”

“No riddles already!” Roman groans. “At least wait a few hours until you try to start your games.”

“I’m a sphynx, Roman. It’s what I do.”

“Yeah, but I’m tired from the flight and I wanna spend some time with my partners. Without my brother. I’ve seen it enough all summer,” she whines.

“I don’t wanna see your face anymore either,” Remus bites back.

“Aren’t you rooming together again?” Virgil asks and both dragons glare at them. They scoff but don’t comment further. As an only child, they never got their ‘brotherly bond’, and they had learned not to question it.

“Anyway!” Remus declares loudly. “I just wanna know where my—” It stops speaking mid-sentence, their head snapping to the side at a concerning angle and her nose twitching. He stands still for two seconds before suddenly sprinting into the crowd of students around them. The other three look after him in confusion.

“Ah,” Virgil says after a moment. “I think I see the tip of Logan’s hat.”

“Like a loyal puppy running after their owner,” Janus huffs and Roman elbows him lightly in the side.

“That’s not something you can make fun of her for. He hasn’t seen Logan almost the entire break, I would’ve been a mess if I hadn’t been able to see either of you for that long.”

Janus raises his hands in defeat.

“Fine. I won’t comment further.”

“Thank you,” Roman smiles and presses a kiss against his cheek. Janus turns his head away to hide his blush, causing Virgil to snort. Before Janus could retaliate however, a new voice carries over to them.

“Hey, kiddos!”

Looking towards the direction of the gate, they could see a pair of blonde ears peak out from between the sea of students and moments later, Patton has made his way over to them.

“It’s so good to see everyone!” he laughs, his tail wagging excitedly. “I missed you all so much!”

“Pat, I saw you last week,” Virgil comments, a fond expression on their face.

“Exactly! A whole week without seeing any of my kiddos is a long time!”

“Well, we’re all together now, padre. And we have a whole semester to have new adventures together!” Roman laughs and pulls him into a hug he gladly accepts.

“I’m looking forward to it! But where’s Lo and Remus? You said everyone’s here, but I don’t see them.”

“Oh, they’re over there somewhere,” Roman points behind her to where Remus had disappeared minutes earlier. “I think they need a moment alone since they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“I see. Yeah, Logan had a lot of rituals and such to attend, right? I haven’t been able to meet up with them either.”

“I think he said something about planet alignments at the end of the semester and that’s why his coven had a lot of stuff going on,” Virgil adds.

“The positions of the planets do subtly influence the energy of the cosmos at all times, so I’m not surprised that a certain combination of placements would cause a bunch of witches to have a month-long spell fest,” Janus nods as well.

“Thank you for your contribution, oh wise one,” Virgil teases and Janus, seemingly having had enough from their continues comments, walks over to them and simply gives them a quick kiss. As he pulls away, Virgil’s cheeks have a purple tint, showing their embarrassment.

“You’re not the only one who can tease people, darling,” Janus purrs. Virgil half-heartedly hisses at him before hiding their face in the high collar of their cloak. Thankfully for them, Janus doesn’t get a chance to continue his teasing as Logan finally appears out of the crowd. Remus is with them, its arms wrapped around their midsection and firmly pressed to their back. It doesn’t look like they are willing to let go any time soon.

“Salutations everyone. I hope you all had a restful break.”

“Logan!” Patton exclaims happily and moves towards him for a hug but Roman quickly grabs his arm to stop him in the same moment that Remus lets out a growl from his position behind Logan and a small flame shoots out of her mouth.

“It would be best not to get too close to them at the moment, padre,” Roman advises, her hand patting his back in reassurance so that his ears don’t remain pressed to his head. “Remus is probably going to be a bit territorial with Logan for at least the next few hours since they haven’t seen each other in so long.”

Patton looks confused for a moment longer before his expression brightens and he exclaims, “Oh! Because Logan’s his ‘treasure’, right?”

“Exactly. Good memory, Pat.”

“Thanks! But why aren’t you the same way with Verge and Jan then? They’re your ‘treasure’, aren’t they?”

“They are. But I’ve also met up with them several times over the break. And if we couldn’t see each other in person, we texted and stuff.”

“It was very frustrating to be involved in an ever-elongating process of rituals and have my contact with the outside world limited,” Logan huffs, one of his hands continuously patting Remus’ arms around him to calm them from its sudden burst of protectiveness. “I understand the necessity of the procedures since a lot of the spells will not be able to be cast again for centuries, but it was a strenuous process that only ended five days ago. I went to bed afterwards and slept for three days, packed my things yesterday and arrived here earlier this morning.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to have at least some rest,” Patton smiles, and Logan nods to him gratefully.

“Speaking of rest, my arm’s getting tired from holding this parasol and I want to get out of the sun. It’s starting to give me a headache,” Virgil complains.

“Then let us be off to the dorms!” Roman links her arms with Virgil and Janus’ and starts dragging them off.

“Uh, that looks fun, can I join?” Patton giggles and hooks his arm to Janus’ free one when he offers.

“Want to join them or look for a quiet spot?” Logan asks Remus quietly, leaning their head back to see its face. Remus takes a moment to consider, watching his brother and their friends.

“As much as everything in me is screaming to keep you to myself right now, I can’t let Ro-bro get to our room alone. She’s going to start decorating everything and it’s going to piss me off and then we’re going to fight about it and I actually don’t want to get into trouble with the dorm manager on our first day. You’re already settled though, right?”

“Yes, meus, I am. I’m going to stay with you for the rest of the day.”

“Good.” Remus buries his head in Logan’s shoulder and tightens her grip on their midsection for a moment before pulling away a bit and grabbing their hand. “Let’s go before Ro gets it in her head that she can decide which side of the room she’s gonna get.”

~~*~~

Here art the character designs!

Drawn by @prince-rowan-of-the-forest, the link to their post is included in the Masterpost linked above!

Also, fun fact! Roman and Remus might both not identify as male, they agreed that they are each others brother at all times. So despite it being a feminine day for Roman, she is still Remus' brother 💖 💚

[sanderssidesficprompts]

Janus and Patton having a lovely little picnic in the forest

[lefaystrent]

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

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

[fanderficreader]

Sometimes You Just Gotta Relax.

(TickleTober Day 6 “Cuddles”)

Words: 1,099

Ships: Moxiety (either platonic or romantic, idc)

TW: None.

Virgil didn’t know why but he was in a very touchy feely mood today, and it unsettled him. He’s not the touchy feely type. So why he was in the mood to be in the sweet and warm embrace of a loved one, and never let go until the day he died was beyond him.

But nonetheless he still felt these feelings, and it seemed as though they weren’t going anywhere. So, he said ‘ah, f** it.’ And acted on the feelings. Which is why he was now standing in front of Pattons door.

He hesitated at first, but then, he begrudgingly knocked on the door awaiting the sweet welcoming words of his favorite friendly father figure figment. Just then, he heard a ‘Come in!’ And opened the door.

There on the bed laid a happy and content Patton on his stomach, coloring in a ‘Winnie The Pooh’ coloring book. “Hey kiddo!” He looked up to see his dark strange son looking at him, with a small loving smile. “What can I do ya’ for?” He asked, in his signature dad voice.

“Oh nothing.” He replied. “I just kinda wanted to… uh- well, I just thought you would wanna maybe… er- do you think we could, maybe, possibly…. Cuddle…??” It took him painfully long to blurt it out, but, when he finally did Patton looked at him with an excited ear to ear smile.

“Well, of course kiddo!! I’d love to!” He exclaimed. He shifted so he was now laying on his back, with his head against a propped up pillow. He then patted a spot next to him, for Virgil to lay. Virgil slowly walked over, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He gave a half smile at Patton, and then plopped himself down next to him, immediately cuddling up to the cardigan wearer.

“You wanna be little spoon?” Patton asked in a loving voice. Virgil nodded, shoving his head deeper into Patton’s chest to hide the growing blush. “Aww, you’re too cute to handle sometimes Virge…” he said stroking Virgil’s hair to soothe him, and relax him. His breathing leveling out as he quickly muttered out “nno’ cute…” he said in a sleepy tone, before inevitably falling asleep.

After about half an hour of relaxing scalp scritches and head rubs from Patton, Virgil then started shifting slightly as Patton switched from head scratches to shoulder scratches. “You alright there Virge?” As Patton asked that he then proceeded to take his scratching fingers downwards to Virgil’s lower back.

That’s when he started squirming back and forth. “Ohh, I get it.” Patton just then had the realization of what was happening. “Are my back scratches tickly tickling you?~” he asked in a borderline baby voice. That’s when Virgil started quietly whining, the little back tickles were bad enough but Virgil couldn’t handle the teasing too!

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Oh but he’s still asleep’ and to that I say he is slightly asleep. The more and more Patton keeps up the tickling -albeit very slight and gentle and light tickling yes, but it still tickles- the more and more awake and coherent he becomes. “Hey Virgie~” he called out. “I think someone’s about to get tickled in their favorite spot~” he said before fluttering and lightly scratching behind Virgil’s ear and in the crook of his neck.

If he wasn’t awake before, he was now. That had woken him up enough that he was now a puddle of light squeaky giggles. “Your gunna kill me with cuteness!! Stop bein’ so darn adorable!~” he said in a teasing tone. “EHEHEHheheh!! PAHHAhahaehehe!” He was a squirming scrunched up pile of laughter. “Aww, is this your melt spot?” Patton asked as he fluttered at a spot where Virgil’s jawline met his neck. When he did that Virgil just laid there with his neck half scrunched up and just melted into the touch.

“Oh… my g- Are You Purring!?” Patton started hearing low vibrations in Virgil’s giggles that almost sounded like purrs. “Nohohaha, Ihhhehehmhm nohahat!” He protested. “Mhmyyeheh voice ihisss juhusst sscrahachhyyehe!” He managed through the remaining giggles. I say ‘remaining’ because Patton was so thrown off by the sound that he unknowingly stopped tickling Virgil.

“Well either way, it’s adorable!” He said, with a genuine smile on his face. With that, he started the tickling and fluttering back up again. After a while Patton got bored, so he decided to pull Virgil up into his lap so he could explore other possible tickle spots. “Hmm…” he gave Virgil’s right lower ribs an experimental poke. Which resulted in Virgil clamping his arms to his sides and letting out a slight giggle.

Patton, liking the result he got, continued with the same motion on every other rib, and he got the same reaction every time. By the time he was satisfied, Virgil was a giggling panting mess. He loved every second of it. Patton then gave other experimental pokes all over Virgil’s tummy, and he was a giggly, squeaky, wiggly mess.

“Do you wike having youw tummy tickwed?~” Patton asked in a baby voice, that made Virgil audibly whine and cover his rising blush, as Patton kept poking around his stomach. That is, until he found a spot that made Virgil squeal and hide his face more. “What was that Virgie-Wirgie?” He poked it again and got the same squeal, but this time it earned him a few leg kicks and an ‘Ack!’. -which he was very proud of-

“Is this little button right here whats making you all squirmy?~” if Virgil could protest his teases right now he would, but he couldn’t. He was too busy being flustered by them to fight them, right now. Virgil was pulled from his train of thought though, as he felt a poke delivered to his navel. He gasped and laughed briefly.

“Oh~ Is this a good spot??~” Patton asked, delivering another poke and a quick flutter to his bellybutton. Patton was a little taken aback at how eager Virgil was to respond, and not only respond but give a nod. After about another 20 something minutes of this, Virgil was getting a bit restless. So, when Patton finally delivered a good 2 and a half minutes of armpit tickles Virgil signaled that he was done.

“You tired kiddo?” Patton asked, before Virgil even nodded Patton was already laying them back down on the bed, to have a nice nap together. With that, Virgil could confidently say today was a good day.

And, he wouldn’t be opposed to spending any other days just the same…

[notnobot]

Lee moods part 1 (logans mood)

TICKLE FIC

Notnobot, "Hello people!!! This is my first fanfic with the sanders, so bare with me. I would also like to announce that I will be starting to take requests for fics, no art because I don't do art, I will be making a request thing a mugig that will tell you what you can request, sorry forgot the name of the stupid thing, please remind me if any of you get the chance. Oh, and ENJOY!!!"

Logan was lying on his bed in one of the biggest lee moods a person could endure, fantasizing about the dreaded t-word while he stretched himself out and hung his feet over his bed. What if someone had been hiding under his bed, then slowly started to drag their fingers over his feet. Or what if someone, maybe patton, came into his room just to tickle his tummy until he was out of breath. Those both sounded pretty nice right about now, logan thought.

After about ten whole minutes of swimming in a six foot deep lee mood, logan decided to head to the living room in hopes someone there would be willing to tickle him.

As he walked towards the living room, he could hear someone laughing. He entered the living room only to see roman on the couch being tickled by patton.

"Ehehehe, pahahaAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEASE" Roman laughed as patton found an extra ticklish spot near his armpits, not noticing that logan was standing on the threshold of the living room door, only able to watch in pure silence.

Patton, on the other hand, did notice logan. "Wanna help? He is a pretty wiggley wiggle worm, could use an extra pare of hands." Patton asked cheerfully. Logan just stood there and started giggling.

Patton, being the one and only tickle monster of the mind palace, realized that logan had been in a lee mood. Oh yeah, he was in trouble now.

Patton stopped his attack on roman the second he realized this. Roman, once he caught his breath, saw Patton's face and knew someone was in a lee mood. He turned around only to see the mind palaces pocket protector, red in the face, giggling.

Both patton and roman had the same mischievous look on their faces. Roman had actually gotten up and picked up logan to bring him over to the couch, and guess what, logan gave absolutely no fight what so ever. All while Patton was wiggling his fingers waiting for logan to be brought over to him to give him the tickles he so very much wanted.

"Lee mood, huh? Well, don't worry, my ticklish friend, you will get the tickles you so very much want and deserve." Roman teased as he flopped logan onto the couch so his tummy was open for tickling.

Patton sat on his legs so he could tickle his tummy, ribs, and sides while roman was standing by his armpits, ready to tickle at any given moment. Logan didn't even protest. All he did was giggle, waiting for the tickles.

"Pick a number, Lolo." Said patton excitedly. For a moment, logan just giggled, thinking about what the number could mean. It could mean the time they tickled him for, or it could be the time he must wait to be tickled.

Logan thought that it was more likely that it was for the time he had to wait to get tickled, so "ehehe twohohoho plehehehase!"

"Two, it is!" Roman said, "Would you like to count down for us logan?" Logan looked at the two with a flushing face. They were really gonna make him do that?!?! Of all the ways to tease him! Well, logan thought, it's only two seconds.

"Ohohkahay," Logan started, "twohohoho, ohohone, zerohoHOHOHO!" Logan laughed. Roman was softly tracing circles inside his armpits while Patton was digging into his tummy. The ticklish sensations were unbearable, but he loved every last second of it.

"Awww, my cute little nerd is all giggly and cute. What more could a dad ask for?" Patton cooed.

"Yes, he is pretty cute, isn't he?" Roman answered,

After about five minutes of tickling, their favorite nerd, roman had to get it really going, for logan's sake, of course.

"Hay Patton, isn't it time for our afternoon snack?"

Patton looked at roman with the most mischievous, sly smile that roman had ever seen. "Oh, how could I have forgotten our afternoon snack?! We must find a suitable snack for today, but what?"

The two were talking as though there was not a laughing, wiggling logan right in front of them. His giggles, laughs, and snorts filled the room. He was truly lost in tickles, drowning almost.

Roman looked down at logan to see he was still holding up quite well for how long they had been tickling him, so why not tickle him a little more intensely, right?

Roman gave patton a sly grin, and in a smooth voice, he said, "Well, raspberries are very tasty and nutritious. Why not have some of those?"

"NOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE RAHAHSBEHERRIEHEHES!" Logan protested, not meaning a single word of it.

With that, patton pushed up logan's shirt and blew raspberry after raspberry on his poor tummy.

"NOHOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEH! IHIHIT'S SOHOHOHO TIHIHICKLEHEHEHE!"

Patton stopped with the raspberries but kept his face on logans belly to soak in all his beautiful laughter. Roman, however, had moved down to logan's ribs to keep him giggling, but no longer laughing as hard as he was with the raspberries.

Roman had stopped with his tickling to let logan calm down. Patton went to fetch him a glass of water while roman got him some apple slices. Logan gladly took all the snacks and drinkage he was offered before sitting on the couch leaning on patton.

"So," started patton, "was it all you wanted?" Logan cuddled closer to patton and nodded, with the biggest smile any of them had ever seen logan wear.

He was happy, they were happy, everyone was happy, even virgil! All the laughter had concerned him, so he came downstairs to find logan all smiliey and roman and patton all happy as well. Virgil had joined in to cuddle logan while he was still happy and smiley.

"All tickled out, huh?" Asked virgil with a small smile already forming on his face. Logan looked up at him and nodded, cuddling back into virgil as well as patton. In the end, they all took a nice relaxing nap on the couch.

The end

Sorry, it's short, guys. I didn't have much time to make it. Hope you all enjoyed it, because I enjoyed making it for you! More will be coming soon!!!