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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 7 months ago

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Emotional Distance

Ngl I feel like a lot of people sleep on the angst potential of Remus being the one to distance from Roman. Roman's discomfort from Janus saying "You know I love you"? His initial distrust of Virgil and trying to keep distance plus the jabs? His desire to not be like his brother? His people pleasing? All of it could be fed into based on that concept alone. It can be taken in so many hard angst or hurt/comfort directions. – ax3-e0ns

Read on Ao3

Warnings: roman has pretty severe abandonment issues

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3783

Once upon a time, in an Imagination far away, there lived Creativity. Creativity spent his days making anything he wanted. He made skies of sapphires and great stone castles. He made forests of magical trees and filled them with wonderful creatures. He filled the sky with diamonds and made stories that anyone could get lost in, because the happy endings would find them and everything would be right again. But stories do not stay the same, we do not always get our happy endings. And when Creativity rips itself apart, it seems as though there might never be a happy ending ever again. But Remus is back. And now Roman has to deal with seeing his brother after they've been Split.

Virgil didn’t think too much of it. Princey was going to be a jerk to him because he presented obstacles to Princey having everything he ever dreamed of—or what Thomas ever dreamed of. But that was his job, so he didn’t care. If pressed, he might actually admit he enjoyed the verbal sparring. Princey was fun to mess with and remind that he wasn’t actually the perfect prince he claimed to be. C’mon, the flaws in perfection are fun to mess with. And if Roman blew himself up and got all blustery and rude, well, that was just incentive to keep going.

Yeah, sure, some of Princey’s insults hurt more than others, but that was a risk that came with the job. They were making a habit of it, throwing sharp words back and forth, some of them were bound to hit eventually. Besides, Virgil always gave as good as he got and it wasn’t like the others would let Roman get away with it. He may or may not have been keeping a tally of how many times they made Roman apologize for something he said. And it wasn’t like Roman only aimed for the soft spots. He knew better.

So yeah, it wasn’t surprising to Virgil that Roman tried to keep him at a distance. That’s what they were supposed to do, wasn’t it?

Patton gets it. He’s a lot! He can be overwhelming and enthusiastic and sometimes that’s not what people want. He’s all about making sure people are happy and if that means they need to take a break sometimes, that’s what they should do!

He’s just happy that Roman lets him know.

The two of them get along really well most of the time: they have their own inside jokes and they go on adventures in the Imagination together and they watch funny cat videos and they talk about the stories they want to read, it’s the best. They have great fun just messing around doing absolutely ridiculous arts and crafts projects that normally end up with both of them covered in glitter and their new things proudly displayed on the wall in Patton’s room. He always asks Roman if he wants them in his room instead, but Roman always says no.

“All my walls are covered with my stuff, I want you to have the stuff we made,” he says, “unless you really don’t want it…?”

But Patton always does, so he puts it up and Roman grins when he comes over and sees it.

But sometimes they need slow days. So they bake or just watch something and sometimes even that’s a bit too much. So Patton doesn’t mind when Roman says he’s too worn out to do something that afternoon after they went into the Imagination the day before and made cookies all afternoon the day before that. It’s the right thing to do, really, to help support Roman. After all, Roman’s always so good with making sure he feels better and gets him all cheered up, it’s the lease he can do to leave Roman be when he asks for it, right?

So no, Patton doesn’t think about it too much. Roman likes to be left alone sometimes, and that’s okay.

Janus understands, he does, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Roman was easy to manipulate. Roman always has been easy to manipulate. When Roman discovered just how much he’d been manipulated, it made sense that he would react…strongly. Insults, yes, pushing him to the outskirts of the conversations, yes, banishing himself away when Janus came around, yes, yes, all of that. And Janus would weather it with minimal complaint because it was fair. Completely justified? No, not really, but understandable.

He would be happier about it if it weren’t so obviously hurting Roman too.

Creativity is not something to be neglected. It needs an outlet, somewhere to express itself, somewhere it can be appreciated, even if it’s only internally. And Roman has more than his fair share of personal projects, things he never lets Thomas see, but he doesn’t let them see it either. And it seems like he goes out of his way to keep it like that.

Every time Patton asks him what he’s been up to: vague answer. Any time Logan asks him for a brain storm: only Thomas’s ideas. Even when Virgil lobs a painful softball about him being lazy or unproductive: volley back about Virgil being an expert or he just shoulders it without a response. And Janus can hear the lie of omission buzzing around Roman’s head but he can’t do a damn thing about it.

It’s not like Roman would ever open up to him. Not when it’s like pulling teeth to even get him to acknowledge that he’s upset about something more than just…surface level things.

So yes, Janus understands. He just hates that he does.

Logan does not understand what is going on and he intends to get to the bottom of it.

Roman is isolating himself and intentionally keeping them all at a distance. There have been no long-lasting arguments that would result in such behavior, and any smaller disagreements have been settled to the best of everyone’s respective ability. He would not be amiss to ascribe a level of immaturity to Roman, but that seems an unlikely cause given Roman’s levelheadedness—and he did not ever think he would be attributing that characteristic to Roman—in other circumstances. So that means either it is something that Roman is not telling the rest of them about, or it is something else entirely.

He goes to Roman’s door after he opts out of movie night and knocks politely on the door. Roman comes to answer it in a plain T-shirt and shorts.

“Yes?”

“May I come in, please?”

Roman shifts but does not allow Logan entrance. “What did you need, Logan?”

Logan frowns. “You’ve been isolating yourself from us, why?”

Roman blinks, momentary surprise flickering over his features before it settles on a familiar half-smile. “Thought you’d be happy to not have to deal with me for a while, Specs. You miss me that much?”

“It’s not about whether I miss you, this pattern of behavior is alarming.”

“Are the others worried?”

“I would imagine they would be if they knew the extent to which you were—“

“So you didn’t ask them?”

“What?”

Roman sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Look, Logan, I’m not…’self-isolating,’ or whatever you want to call it. I’m just tired tonight and I don’t feel up to watching a movie with the rest of you. I’ll try and make it next week, okay?”

“That’s not—“ he catches the door when Roman tries to close it— “it’s more than just movie nights. You don’t talk to us about things that are bothering you, really bothering you, and you keep trying to brush us off when we ask about you or your projects.”

”Never thought you’d be the one anxious to hear about my work, especially when it falls outside of that 0.5%.”

“See? Like that.”

Roman shakes his head. “You should go back downstairs, Logan, they’re probably going to start the movie without you at this rate.”

“Now you’re not even trying to be subtle about it. You should—“

“Logan.”

The firmness of Roman’s voice startles him into silence. Roman gives him a look and gently yet firmly moves Logan’s hand off the door.

“I’d like to be left alone now,” he continues, jerking his head toward the stairs, “enjoy the movie.”

The door closes with a decisive click. Logan stares at it for a long moment before hanging his head and walking back downstairs.

”No luck?”

“No. He shut the door on me when I tried to push.”

Patton toys with the ears on his cat onesie. Virgil sinks a little more into his hoodie. Janus sighs.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Me neither.”

”I don’t know what else to do,” Logan says quietly as he takes a seat, “I don’t understand.”

“None of us do.”

Then Remus appears.

He sends Thomas on a horror show roller coaster with a sinister music number and knocks Roman unconscious for nearly half an hour. For Janus and Virgil, it’s something they’d seen coming for a long time, for Patton and Logan, less so. Remus cackles and throws them all off guard every chance he gets, delighting in the mayhem he causes and everyone is left scrambling to pick up the pieces.

Everyone that is, except Roman.

The first time Roman sees Remus, he stops. Fully stops, staring at him, as Remus grins and keeps doing…whatever he’s doing with the inflatable dolphin. Eventually, he looks up and spots Roman and his grin widens.

“Ro-bro! Wanna help me out? I could really use a hand with the extra bamboo skewers.”

Patton quickly ducks behind Logan. Janus just sighs and Virgil mutters here we go.

Roman looks at him for a long pause.

“Remus,” he says eventually in a completely even voice, “you’re back.”

“Back and bloodier than ever!” A squib explodes on his chest as he spreads his arms. “Did you miss me?”

Something moves across Roman’s face too quick to name. He looks at the dolphin and then back at Remus. “Welcome back, I guess. Good luck with the skewers.”

And he turns and walks up the stairs.

They’ve never really described Roman as…cold before. And yet that’s exactly what it is. It’s not like with Logan, where he takes Remus’s creations apart with cold logic, or even that he ignores Remus altogether. No, it’s just…the briefest of acknowledgements, the weakest of yes-ands, the polite yet insistent removal of himself from whatever context Remus might be in.

It’s not what they expect from Roman. It’s exactly what they expect from Roman.

”He’s getting worse,” Patton mumbles when yet again Roman declines their invitation to dinner, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Is he still eating?” Virgil pushes his food around his plate. “I don’t see him eat anymore.”

”He’s eating, his box of snacks is still being emptied.”

“You check?”

“Of course I check, what do you take me for,” Janus scoffs, “an amateur?”

“We’re missing something.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “There’s something we haven’t taken into consideration.”

“Me.”

They all turn and look at Remus, eating his food on top of the fridge. Despite his comically contorted position, he looks oddly serious.

“I’m sure it’s not that,” Patton tries, “Roman missed you, he said so.”

“Yeah, he might’ve missed me, but it’s not like that makes up for anything.”

Logan frowns. “What do you mean, Remus?”

Remus sighs, setting his plate aside and getting down from the fridge, still strangely stoic. “I mean what happened when we were younger.”

“…what happened?”

+1.

But as time went on, and the people got older, some of his ideas started to…change. Now he thought of deep caves filled with monsters, monsters that would kidnap people. The heroes would still rescue them, because they had to, but now they left with scars that didn’t heal quite right and memories that hurt to think about.

Creativity didn’t understand. He wanted to have fun with his work again, just make things that people would like—but what about what he thought of? Weren’t the dark ideas fun in their own way too?

No, because they hurt people—

—but those people aren’t real, so what does it matter?

Why did he want to hurt people?

Why did he hate the part of himself that kept coming up with these ideas?

He didn’t hate himself, he just wanted to be better—

—well, if he wanted to be better so badly, maybe it’d be better if he didn’t have these kinds of thoughts anymore.

Yes, that was it, he just wouldn’t have though thoughts—wait—wait, no, no, no!

Creativity Split and the Imagination howled in pain, a deep chasm forming between two sides: on one side stood the castle, the castle he had loved for years and years, and on the other rose a massive thing of oily black stone, a tower that stuck out like a sword hilt impaled in the earth. The forest grew black and twisted, monstrosities lurking around rickety hanging bridges. Creativity was no longer unified, no longer was control over the Imagination absolute.

The people of the Imagination found half of Creativity weeping on the floor of the castle, a bright sash of red the closest thing to blood it could manage. His tears ran gold over the white of his shirt, a new costume forming before their very eyes. He looked younger, stronger, more like the Prince they all expected him to be, except for his eyes.

A drawbridge shut that day for half of Creativity, and they never again saw it open.

Roman sighs as he opens his door and heads down the hall. Janus had been pestering him about a rematch for weeks and he’d just managed to get him to agree to a time. He picks up the well-worn deck of cards and starts down the stairs.

“I hope you’re ready,” he calls as he goes, “because I won’t be going easy on you this…time.”

He stops halfway down.

Janus is not the one sitting waiting in the living room. Instead, Remus looks up at him. His hands are folded in between his legs and he actually looks somber.

”Huh.” Roman glances at the cards and put them in his pocket. “So that’s what this was?”

“Yeah.”

“Janus doesn’t actually want that rematch, does he?”

“No, he does. I had to bribe him with a heat lamp with an extra long battery life to get him to help.”

“Mm. Is he in his room?”

“Yeah, I think so—wait,” he says quickly, standing up when Roman turns to go, “can we…talk?”

“You want to talk?”

“Yes, Ro, I want to talk.” Roman stops and just waits. “Can you—just come all the way down, for Beezlebub’s sake.”

Roman walks down the stairs and stands at the end, leaning against the banister with his arms crossed. Remus looks for a minute like he wants to protest before he sighs and walks over.

”I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Did you?” Remus scoffs. “Because it seems like you want nothing to do with me.”

“I do miss you. I’m glad you’re back. It’s been hard without you.” Remus frowns. Roman inclines his head in the direction of the Imagination. “You know some of them still ask what happened?”

“You didn’t tell them?”

“I told them you wanted to follow your own path without me getting in the way.”

Remus suppresses a growl. “What else did you tell them?”

“To be careful going over the bridges if they went to go see you. I didn’t make you out to be the bad guy, Remus, I didn’t forbid any of them from seeing you. I never put up walls or a big sign that says don’t come back, or anything.”

“I know you didn’t.” Roman just nods and doesn’t say anything. Remus growls again and lightly shoves his shoulders. “Where are you? What’re you doing, aren’t you mad at me? Say something!”

“I mean, I’m not thrilled that you left without helping me fix that outer wall—“

“Then let’s go do it!”

Before Roman can say anything, Remus grabs his shoulder and sinks them into the Imagination. He shakes his head to get his bearings—it’s so much harder to sink right in as opposed to going through one of their doors—and sees Remus already hefting a giant block of stone.

“Well? Come on, we can do it together.”

Roman goes over and helps Remus lift the stone block into place. One by one, they repair the wall. Remus keeps trying to get him to talk. He doesn’t. They put the last one in and Remus stands back, panting with a beaming smile.

“There, how’s that?”

“Looks good. Thank you.”

Remus’s smile drops. “That’s it?”

“I mean, it’s not like we can extra fix the wall—“ he’s cut off when Remus shoves his shoulder. Hard.

“Stop it,” he snarls, stalking forward and shoving him again, ��whatever you’re doing, whatever punishment this is supposed to be for me, it’s working, alright? You’ve made your point, you’ve punished me, I’m sorry, now stop it!”

“Stop what?”

”This!” Remus shoves him again. “This thing where you’re being all cold and stoic and emotionless and letting me shove you around!”

He does it with two hands this time, enough to make Roman stumble. Roman dodges out of the way of the next one and it just makes Remus angrier.

“I didn’t come back for this—this version of you, I want my brother back!”

“This is your brother!”

Roman grabs him and pins him against a different part of the crumbling wall. He’s panting now, not quite glaring at Remus, who must’ve gotten the wind knocked out of him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as calmly as he can.

”You left,” he says, deliberately slowly, “you tore us apart because that’s what you wanted. You wanted out, you wanted to be away from me. Do you have any idea what that did to the rest of Creativity?”

Remus’s lower lip wobbles as he shakes his head.

“Creativity got sorted into you and what wasn’t you. It hurt, Remus. You have no idea how much it hurt.” He tightens his grip until his nails dig into Remus’s arms. “Because you ripped free but you were going somewhere. You…you left me there.”

“I didn’t know,” Remus manages, “I…I didn’t know.”

Roman scoffs before he can stop himself. “Of course you didn’t. How could you? You weren’t here.”

He lets go and pushes himself away, turning and walking a few paces. Behind him, he can hear Remus pulling himself together.

“But I’m back now,” he hears, and his fists clench, “I’m back, Ro. We can—ah!”

He reels back, covering his bloody nose with a hand. He looks up, panting.

“Okay, I deserve that.”

Roman punches him again.

“That too.”

He draws his leg back and aims right between—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, not that, not that, maybe not that.”

Roman stops, breathing slightly heavier. Remus looks up at him, blood gushing from his nose. He turns his back again, taking a deep breath. The crumbling tower looms over them, its fractured shadow etching black lines into the ground. The grass rustles as Remus takes another step closer. Roman raises his chin.

“You left and it hurt me,” he says, trying to keep his voice even, “it still hurts. I won’t go through something like that again, Remus.”

“Is that why you won’t get close to the others?”

“I know better now.”

For a brief second, something wells up in his chest, strong enough to take his breath away and threaten tears at the corners of his eyes. He chokes it back and shoves it under his tongue.

“I think you should go now,” he says, choking a little, “thank you for fixing the wall.”

He only has the briefest of moments before he hears two quick steps and something throws itself at his back.

Warm warm warm solid real Remus safe brother hug hold keep stay Remus no don’t warm cold so cold so cold it hurts it hurts please stop oh god don’t let go—

“Go,” he chokes out, the force of the hug and the emotions running through him breaking his voice, “Remus, go, go, just leave, you need to leave, I can’t do this again, just go, just go—“

Remus doesn’t let go. He digs his heels in and locks his arms around Roman’s waist. He tucks his head against the space between Roman’s shoulder blades and holds on, even as Roman starts to pull and push at his arms.

“No, no, no, Remus, no,” he manages, sobs beginning to steal his voice too, “let go, let me go, you have to go, you have to leave, you have to…you have to, I can’t do this again, you can’t do this to me again, I can’t, I can’t—“

His knees buckle, sending him to the ground. Remus is on him the second he lands, wrapping his legs around him too like a koala, just clinging onto him for dear life. Roman tries to get away, tries to pry him off, tries to crawl, but the warmth and solid arms around him keep making his limbs turn to jelly. HE can’t catch his breath, not with the way Remus’s mustache keeps scratching against his ear because that’s his brother, his brother is back, his brother is hugging him, his brother won’t let him go, he won’t leave, he won’t leave again—

“I’m here,” Remus whispers as Roman starts to sob desperately, “I’m right here, Roro, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m here now, I’m not leaving, I won’t leave, I promise.”

Roman thrashes, wiggling in Remus’s hold. “Let me—wanna hold you—let me—le’ me turn ‘round—“

Remus lets up just enough for Roman to turn and get his arms round his neck, clinging to him life a raft in a storm and sobbing to his shoulder. He hunches protectively over his brother and presses his cheek hard to the crown of Roman’s head.

“I’m here now,” he murmurs over and over, “I’m here, I’m not leaving, I’m here, I’m here.”

Gold tears mix with silver tears. Blood drips onto red and green sashes. White meets black in a fierce embrace as the setting sun turns the green grass red, red, red. The brothers stay there, wrapped around each other, as the Imagination shudders once more.

The tower stands, crumbling it may be, but it stands.

Happy endings will find them and everything will be alright again.

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#dragonbabbles #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #fic

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pencilpat · 8 months ago

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Dukeceitbrainrot here on anon. Do you have any ripe headcanons for Janus/Remus? 💛💚

Who am I fooling, we have so many that I can't even write them all out in one place without overwhelming myself! Here's some juicy ones though, just for you. @dukeceitbrainrot

Janus and Remus both have really bad abandonment issues, both from things Thomas has been through as well as losing Virgil from such a previously tight knit group. They cling to each other very, very hard. They fell in love out of necessity, out of proximity, out of 'you are the only one left for me,' but they still love, love, love.

They both watch a lot of horror films, sure, but their tastes are completely different. While Janus would bring things like Run. or Us to movie night, Remus will bring things like Slaughtered Vomit Dolls or Cannibal Holocaust and spend the whole film infodumping about the horrific backstories and crimes involved. Janus sits there utterly horrified the whole time, but he lets Remus have his fun nonetheless.

Remus eats a lot of weird stuff that's very bad for his health (I headcanon that he has the disorder pica among his menagerie) and Janus has to help him quell those compulsions in any way he can. That resulted in Janus learning to bake and cook creations that look or feel in texture exactly like the things Remus would want to eat. Such as sugar glass for that nasty glass swallowing habit, or fondant to replace fancy soaps. Janus once created candy that looks and feels like razor blades, just for him.

They are SO 'horrible beast and enabling owner' coded okay, "I don't know, I just let him play," and all else are you kidding me?? Janus enables the chaos for his own amusement and Remus's antics are an endless source of entertainment for him. Janus can be pretty easily grossed out, but it's creates flabbergasted affection towards Remus more than anything else.

A bit nsfw, skip if you need to. But their sex isn't actually as weird as you'd expect from Remus. He's a lot softer and sweeter to people he genuinely loves. He gets worried when he loves someone, will he scare them off, will he make them hate him like most others have, will they be just like the others? Their opinion actually matters to him, which is bizarre and terrifying for him to deal with. Janus is very good at reassuring him and keeping him close and safe when emotions do interfere with their encounters. Remus needs a lot of aftercare most of the time, he's very prone to those rushes of negative emotions following sex.

Remus gets injured a lot, either from fights with Roman or his own tendencies to step on/into his own weapons. Janus knows very basic field first aid because of this, and has to patch him up while chastising him pretty much 6 out of 7 days of the week.

Janus has really bad days sometimes, where his responsibilities and his role as Denial crash onto him like a train. He's hiding so much, holding so much back and away from the others. It's a taxing task. Remus shows a surprisingly strong soft side on those nights, caring for and comforting Janus through every trauma reaction he may have, be it screaming, crying, scratching at himself, etc etc. It can be really rough for both of them, but Janus is always incredibly grateful to Remus for staying with him through it, despite.

Remus does not care whether Janus likes affection or not, he WILL be being kissed and laid on and grabbed and tackled and shoved into Remus's chest 24 hours 7 days a week and he is not allowed to complain.

Shockingly domestic, sweet couple. always baking or gardening together or sitting on the sofa together doing nothing at all. The only difference is that There Is An Eyeball On The Coffee Table or Remus Filled That Pot With Human Waste So I Cannot Use It or other bizarre inclusions of disgusting things among their neat little domestic life.

Remus is a coffee drinker, Janus is a tea drinker. There are many arguments over this. 200 dead, 5000 injured.

Janus likes to try and plan civil, nice dates in The Mindpalace for them, but Remus always fucks it up in some horrific way, intentionally. What is love worth if it cannot flourish in chaos, huh Janus? Huh??

That's all for now, I love these two idiots so much

#written by a remus fictive so i am factually right and cannot be argued with (joke)#dukeceit #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides

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noblest-roman-of-them-all · 29 days ago

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Hospital Bed

Post Passing Out From Pain, Remus wakes up in a hospital bed to find his brother waiting for him to wake up and Janus avoiding him.

Roman shot to his brother's side as he stirred awake. "Hey," he greeted softly and took his hand. "You okay?"

Remus blinked languidly. "What happen?"

Roman wet his lips and took a slow breath before answering. "You got bit. Janus field amputated your leg to save your life."

Remus nodded and closed his eyes. "'S what I thought. Where is he?"

"Hopefully, finally getting some sleep," Roman answered. "He's been pretty upset and shaken up for the last couple days."

Remus frowned and lifted his head. "Days?"

"Logan decided to keep you sedated the last two days. The cut was pretty clean, but...well, it didn't leave a lot to...cover the end of the leg. We had to improvise. Logan just kept you under while they did some stuff for your nerves and did a skin graft."

"Where'd he take the graft from?"

"My leg."

"Ro-"

"Don't," Roman cut in. "I was the best match out of all of us and we didn't want to put your body under any more stress by taking it from you. Perks of having an identical twin. If it keeps you with us, I want to help."

"Thanks, Ro."

Roman squeezed his hand. "You're welcome. You'll also be happy to know I brought your leg back for Logan to study, figured it'd be a good way to get him an active form of the virus. If anything we could bury it or whatever, just so it wouldn't be left behind and eaten."

Remus snickered. "Yeah, that does make me feel better. You're the best."

"Damn right I am," Roman chuckled. "Want me to see if Thomas can get Janus in here?"

"Yeah. That'd be great."

---

Janus cautiously poked his head in the door. "Hey-"

"Get over here and kiss me," Remus cut him off.

Janus rushed to his side and let Remus take his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he breathed as he broke the kiss, still pressing his forehead to Remus’s. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," Remus whispered. "I know, it's okay, I forgive you. You did the right thing, Jan, I would have done the same to you."

Janus slumped sideways against Remus’s chest.

"I'm okay," Remus whispered into his hair, lightly stroking his side. "Things are gonna be different and...it's gonna take a lotta time to figure stuff out. But I'm okay."

---

Remus rested his hand on Janus's hip, loosely holding him as Janus leant sideways over and kissed him slowly. He let himself remain rested back, eyes closed, on the hospital bed and let Janus come to him, let Janus treat him. He sighed and let out a content hum as Janus kissed down his jawline to just below his ear.

He snickered and caught Janus by both hips as he slipped fully onto Remus’s lap. "Hey," he interrupted gently. "As much as I'd love to let you keep going, I haven't been cleared for physical activity yet."

Janus nodded without lifting his head from beside Remus’s.

Remus ran his thumb back and forth on Janus's hip. "I love you," he whispered against Janus's neck. "And I think it's super hot that you cut off my leg to save me."

Janus snorted. "You're ridiculous," he said around the tears tightening in his throat. "I know you're not mad at me, but hearing you scream like that-"

"Shh," Remus soothed. "Shh. It's okay, sunflower. It's not the first time you had me screaming and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"That's not funny, Remus," Janus scolded.

"You're right, it's not," Remus conceded. "I'm sorry. Hey, look at me, sunflower."

Janus sat back with a pout and finally met Remus’s soft gaze. He leaned into Remus’s hand as he cup Janus’s cheek.

"I'm okay. And I'm okay because of you. You literally saved my life. And I know it was hard, I know it was scary, and I know you feel bad about hurting me, but you saved my life. And I'm so proud of you for being so brave, for thinking so quickly. You did everything right when it would have been completely understandable for you to panic and get it all wrong. You were so strong and so brave. We're fighting through things that...no one should ever have to face. And you took it head on and I'm so proud of you for that."

#whumptober2024 #no.30 #hospital bed #sanders sides #fic #my writing #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #hallmark zombie au

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lovelivingmydreams · 10 months ago

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Hi! Same anon from before here I’m very glad my ask made you happy! I genuinely adore the raven poetry multiverse and get really excited every time you both post a new chapter and new art! Usually I’m not one for anything but oneshots but the story really got me! (Literally spinning all the universes around in my head like rotisserie chicken) is there any fun facts you’d like to share about any of the universes you haven’t gotten around to writing chapters for yet? (Without spoiling anything important obviously)

Ooooh That's a great question!!!! Lets see. @skeletinmoss and I do a few we want to share: -In one au Logan is a sugar daddy -Uncontrollably teleporting Remy is fun -And there is Tarot Remus. All his alters are a bit nuts, but he might be the nuttiest. (also in this one his boyfriend might be almost too much for him to handle but not more than he's willing to take) -The "No you" Janus ( no elaboration) -In one au Patton is trans and his hero name is an egg pun -Emile does standup in one that's fun -There is a very pretty glass manipulation power somewhere in there we are pretty excited about -not something for the future but we are both very fond of the karaoke stream. Just the online personality shenanigans in every au are so much fun. -Honestly i love how Remus is always the one with the least personal drama. He's just living his best life. Small exception in eclipse but that's not his fault -I am so soft for Roman hanging out with kids. If you guys aren't careful i'm going to drag that stuff out so much when i can. -I also look forward to every instance where Roman has to stand up for himself. He sometimes has a bad boyfriend, rival or ex and it always makes for such a great moment of prioritizing his well being over accomodating their needs. -all that good puppy Roman content. I am so open to you guys suggesting things to do with that whenever we write full moon -hehe Journalists being Roman's nemesis -Detective Logan being clueless to not so well kept secrets -And I can't wait what you'll guys will pick for our next project after we finish Raven poetry! We decided to let you guys pick.

#sanders sides #raven poetry multiverse

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samders-sides · 1 year ago

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The Hunt for Prince Roman - Chapter One

Summary: Roman has been in the Imagination for two weeks straight and Virgil has grown concerned. What starts as a welfare check on the wayward Prince turns into a full on quest to find him because things…are not adding up.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51469459/chapters/130071607

Note: Hi! I am back again. I have two WIPs on here but this walked into my mind and I spent the weekend writing pretty much all of it… Will be updating twice a week until it is all posted on Thursdays and Sundays. Also I'm not great at titles. If anyone has any ideas I would be happy to hear them!

Chapter One: The Begining

It had been two weeks.

Virgil shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, shifting his satchel strap to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and moodily glaring at the scene. There were many places that he liked to while away his spare time. Cuddled up into the smallest ball imaginable in the soft armchair in the living room with his headphones on; sitting on the benchtop while he supervised Patton baking in the kitchen (ready to jump in at any notice with a fire extinguisher, should one be needed); sinking into a warm bubble bath…

Virgil smiled at the last thought. For his birthday, one of the gifts he had received was his own bespoke brand of bubble mixture, which, when mixed with water, created large sparkly purple and black bubbles. Blackberry and lavender scents soothed his nerves, and he swore that the bath water would remain the exact right temperature, no matter how long he soaked his troubles away. Roman had really outdone himself on that one.

Roman. Virgil’s frown returned to his face. The reason that he was here, in the imagination, instead of literally any other place that Virgil would care to be. His skin crawled.

Roman had been acting strangely since…well Virgil couldn’t quite pinpoint it exactly. He had been so focused on the threat of Janus, Remus and the Others, and the stresses of a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the three knuckleheads in the light. Recent events sure had blown his failure on that point wide open.

The wedding was a big one, that had felt like an atomic bomb going off in the mindscape. In the space of a day everything had turned upside down. New friendships. New rules. New high score in Candy Crush…one big gaping hole in the fabric of his close-knit family. And maybe the hole itself wasn’t new but it sure as hell wasn’t anything like what it is now. Virgil could name a handful of days that were so significant in their lives to have had as big of a fallout as that one.

But pinning it all on just one (freaking terrible no good) day, was just one more mistake Virgil had to chalk up on his list.

Virgil shook his head and started walking. He was here for a reason.

Two weeks.

Two weeks with no Princey.

Lengthy absences weren’t necessarily unheard of, or even rare – especially when they were between major projects or Princey was working on something big. He was still functioning, Thomas still had his fanciful thoughts, reckless romantic urges, his ego, and his creative spark. They could all feel Roman’s presence in the mindscape, like he had sprinkled glitter over everything. Patton still set the dinner table for four. There was a growing pile of books outside of Princey’s bedroom door that Logan had come across and thought would be of interest to the creative side. Virgil still peeked into his room on his nightly rounds of the mindscape. Usually, the Prince would send some sort of message to them by now though.

“He’s probably just busy defeating some illogical amalgamation of fictional and non-fictional creatures and has lost track of time,” Logan had said, his voice clipped as he turned the page of his book, not even looking up at Virgil. Logan had said something further under his breath about the creative sides’ appreciation for time and schedules, but Virgil had chosen to ignore it. Instead, Virgil’s eyes had flicked to the four empty coffee mugs on the table, and the glass of red wine in the logical sides free hand, then to the clock on the wall which read 11:46 am. A feeling that Virgil could not quite place welled up within him.

“Yeah kiddo, Roman just needs some space at the moment, I’m sure there is no need to worry.” Virgil turned to look at the other side in the living room, Patton. Virgil had a retort ready to snap back about how could you claim to know anything for certain especially about Princey, but it died in his throat as he took in the newest addition to the father figure’s ensemble – a clumsily made yellow friendship bracelet. Virgil knew what feeling had been welling up inside himself that time.

Virgil blinked himself back to the present, not for the first time since the scene from earlier had occurred. One at a time. He had to sort out these buffoons one at a time before they destroyed themselves and Thomas. Something in his heart of hearts told him that Roman had to be top of his list.

He had appeared on a hill in Roman’s side of the imagination and had immediately breathed a sigh of relief. The weight in his gut lessened just a fraction.

The grass was an impossibly perfect shade of green, and the beautiful baby blue sky held no clouds. There were forests to the right and left of him, an expansive ocean behind him, and towns littering the path up to a magnificent Disney castle ahead of him. Cartoonishly cute birds and animals filled the scenes, and the ambiance could only be described as magical.

This hill had become a favourite spot of Virgil’s, on his journeys here. A large cherry blossom tree grew at the crest, with brilliant gardens radiating out around it in ever growing circles, paths weaving their way through the beds. Gardens weren’t entirely strictly his vibe, but Roman had created this one just for him. The flowers were all different shades of purple (with a few tasteful black roses dotted about here and there) and Roman had fashioned a bench underneath the cherry blossom tree, which was always in bloom. It was a peaceful place at a strategic vantage point so no one could sneak up on him while he was there. It was perfect.

Virgil had wavered here for a few moments, his eyes staring at the table in front of the bench which was set up with a Battleships board.

Roman and Virgil had tried chess, but admittedly Roman had struggled with the rules. The Game of Life had stressed Virgil out with the inevitability of death and taxes. Neither of them would ever emotionally recover from that Monopoly game…

Battleships was as much skill as luck. It had been the perfect medium to bridge the gap after Virgil had been accepted.

At least the imagination seemed to be in good nick. In ways that Virgil had yet to understand (and that Logan would kill to know), the imagination was inextricably linked to the Creative sides and their emotions. For the first time, Virgil started to doubt himself and his mission. If the imagination was this picture perfect, maybe the wayward Prince was fine. Maybe Patton was right…

And it was that thought that hardened Virgil’s resolve to continue, as he steadfastly made his way along the cobblestoned road to the first small town.

Since the wedding, and especially since the mall, Virgil had been spending a lot more time with Roman than he ever had before – including in the imagination. It wasn’t entirely his cup of tea but Roman had kept things low-key for him.

The imagination was always in flux, but there were a few constants. “Video game logic” is what Roman had dubbed it. The first golden rule – walk to a location and find a person to ask a question of. A tavern or a brightly coloured shop were your best bets to find such a person. Virgil’s gut said that he would find the Prince at the castle, but the imagination had spat him out onto that hill for a reason. Virgil had long since learned to trust Roman’s guiding hand when it came to the imagination.

And so, Virgil walked into the quaint town of Brightstar.

Roman had eagerly walked him through Brightstar before, and it was a favourite setting of Virgils’. The small French village had a beautiful fountain marking the centre of town, with cobbled streets reaching out from the fountain like a star. The houses had thatched roofs and were built with stone. It was very Beauty and the Beast.

Which is why Virgil frowned when his feet left cobblestone and hit a tar sealed road.

Brightstar was a hive of activity – which was not unusual. What was unusual was the kind of activity. People in high-vis-vests scrambled about in teams. One team hauled a massive machine down the cobbled streets, covering them in tar. Virgil wrinkled his nose at the smell. Another team were pulling up streetlamps and connecting them to electricity. The crew clapped as the first bulb flickered to life.

Virgil broke off into a run, his anxiety flickering to life. There were only a few streets in between him and the town centre and he didn’t stop until the water fountain came into view, blessedly untouched. Virgil slouched and clutched a stitch in his side, cursing Thomas for not going to the gym more often. The city centre had already been paved and electrified, but the local vendors and citizens seemed unbothered. Virgil took a seat on the fountain and dipped his hand into the cool water, forcing his breathing to come right and his heart rate to chill out.

Everything is okay.

Once again, Virgil chided himself. It was silly getting himself into a panic over nothing. Roman decided to update and change his realm almost on the daily, why was he so panicked over him deciding to update the facilities in Brightstar? Virgil tried not to feel too disappointed. It’s not like he was invested in the old school cobble streets at all…though they were far more his aesthetic than modern paving systems. Didn’t Logan once say that the old Ancient Roman roads were far better quality than anything we could construct now? Virgil looked up from his spot at the fountain and saw that another team of workers were replacing a thatched roof with tiles.

“Howdy stranger.”

Virgil just about fell backwards into the fountain, only just managing to catch himself in time. One of the workers had come over to him while he was contemplating the meaning of change. Virgil hurriedly stood up and tried not to look like he had just let out a screech that a banshee would be jealous of.

“Urgh, hi there.” Virgil grunted, shoving his hands into the safety of his pockets. The worker was clearly of elvish origin if his pointy ears were anything to go by. He had an orange hard hat on his head, green eyes, and a kind smile. He clutched a clipboard against his portly stomach and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Sorry there friend, didn’t mean to startle you.” The man gave a reassuring smile. “The name is Bertram.”

Virgil sighed.

“No problem, er, Bertram.” Virgil cast his eyes about nervously. This was it; he was sure of it. He had found a person, now, to get the right question. “What’s going on here?”

“New orders from the big guy in charge, massive infrastructure upgrades realm wide and we have a week to do it! Management, eh? In truth, I liked the old look, but not complaining here. It makes sense to move away from combustible materials like thatched roofs. Never know when a dragon will take a special interest in our little old town eh?" Bertram laughed as if he hadn’t just made a joke about a dragon burning his home down. Virgil doubted he would ever understand the folk in the imagination.

“Management…yeah.” Virgil swallowed. He didn’t know why he was so anxious talking to a person that literally did not exist. “So, the Prince has done this? Is he around?”

“Where have you been?” Bertram laughed again. “We don’t have a Prince anymore.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sander sides fanfiction #logan sanders #patton sanders #imagination adventure #roman sanders angst

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fangirlwriting-stories · 1 year ago

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Protector

Chapter One

Chapter Thirty-Four:

Patton had never felt quite this lost before. There had been times when he’d been unsure, of course. But often he’d had Janus to help, and he couldn’t ask that of Janus right now. Janus needed time.

Patton recognized early on that he’d need to step up and keep things running in some ways. Logan and Roman had worked some of this out ahead of time, and while he imagined the heads up was kind of nice, it couldn’t be fun to see your worst fears come true right in front of you. Janus’ world could be doing no less than falling apart around him. Thomas had to be going through a major crisis— or he would at least, as soon as Anxiety got back. And until then he was… not good.

So Patton, as someone who’d had this dropped on him but could also recognize that there was not much he could have done differently, took a deep breath and did his thinking about things while he vacuumed the living room.

It was hard to decide how to feel about things overall. He’d felt hurt and betrayed by Anxiety before. He’d felt used when he’d tried to be caring and giving to someone he thought had deserved it— he had deserved it. Patton couldn’t doubt that anymore. The way Anxiety had handled the situation still didn’t feel very good, but Patton understood now. If he’d been put in a place where he had to hurt someone to help someone else, he doubted he would have handled it as well as Anxiety had. And Patton was also finding it more and more difficult to blame him for not handling it better now that he knew the headspace he’d been in.

Then of course, there was the part that didn’t involve Patton at all. He’d decided pretty shortly after that he wasn’t going to blame himself for it. It wouldn’t help anyone if he drowned himself in guilt, and there really hadn’t been much he could have done. He hadn’t known anything was happening, and it was far more important to focus on what he could do moving forward.

And right, now, he could make meals, keep the mindscape clean, and stop by where Anxiety’s door had been with gift baskets.

It had a couple basic things Patton imagined one would need after waking up from a week-long death (that’s how long Remus had said it would take at least). Food, water bottle, soft fluffy blankets, stuffed animals to have something to hug. And a note that said if Anxiety wanted to and if/when he was ready, Patton would like to see him to apologize. He hadn’t been sure for a while whether to put “apologize” or “talk,” but in the end he’d decided that Anxiety might like to hear one, and that he was very sorry for the things that happened to him, whether he was going to blame himself or not.

He replaced the two cookies daily, as while most of the items in there were non-perishable, Patton knew the benefit of a second cookie after a long hard day, and he didn’t imagine waking up from death was easy.

No one had really caught him doing so before, but he imagined everyone knew who the basket came from, which is why he wasn’t surprised when he found Remus outside his door one day holding it.

“Hello Remus,” Patton said, setting down the laundry basket that was now mostly empty, having delivered clothes to everyone else. “Can I help you with something?”

“What is this for?” Remus asked, hoisting the gift basket up.

“I thought it would be nice for Anxiety to have when he wakes up,” Patton said. “Did you want some cookies too? I was going to replace those after I put my clothes away, you can eat the ones that are in there now.”

Remus glared at him, but still grabbed a cookie and shoved it in his mouth. A second later his eyes widened slightly, and Patton couldn’t help a small smile.

“Do you like them?”

“Needs paprika,” Remus snapped, before shoving the other one in his mouth too. “Why do you care if Anxiety has food when he wakes up?”

Patton furrowed his brow. “Because it’s common decency?”

Remus looked down at the basket. “And you’d treat Anxiety with common decency, would you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Patton said softly.

Remus, for some reason, looked like he knew that and agreed with it. Maybe Anxiety had told him.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because that’s what you do,” Patton murmured. “And you and Anxiety deserve kindness.”

Remus glared down at the gift basket. “Fine then,” he said, shoving it out towards Patton. “Go make your replacement cookies.”

Patton took the basket. “Would you like to help?”

“No.”

Patton nodded. “Okay.”

He went and put the basket back by where Anxiety’s door would reappear. By the time he was back to his room to grab the laundry basket, Remus was gone.

…

Remus may not have wanted to help Patton with the cookies, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve some, so Patton made a couple extra and put them outside his door, along with a spice shaker of paprika and a note with a winky face on it. Remus didn’t say anything, but the cookies were gone when he checked again, so Patton took that as a success and made a note to start making him cookies along with Anxiety’s. There were only a couple days left before he should reappear now, and hopefully things could start improving at least a little then. Though the way Remus had yelled at Janus yesterday hadn’t been a good sign for that.

Patton could give Remus a little grace with that. He understood being angry. Remus had a right to be.

But Janus also had a right to feel upset and take time to think. And while Patton had certainly gotten some perspective on Remus recently, he’d loved Janus for over fifteen years. That wasn’t going to stop because Janus had made some mistakes. Even if they were really bad ones.

But he also understood Janus needing some time, so he made sure Janus didn’t see him coming to take his laundry or leaving him food. Roman and Logan were making him food too, so there wasn’t a way to pin it on any one of them. The three of them should probably talk sometime, but for now they had to work damage control.

Which is why Patton took on a different job that it wasn’t really fair to ask of Janus right now.

“Hey kiddo,” Patton said gently, sitting down on the couch next to Thomas. It was his turn on shift. Logan had essentially child-proofed the apartment for the week, and Janus had recommended Thomas call in sick for the week before locking himself inside. His friends were bringing him food, meaning all Thomas had to do was rest.

Not that that was proving easy for anyone.

“You know what I’ve been wondering, Patton,” Thomas said, giving Patton a bright smile before turning back to the rubber band he was pulling back and forth between his fingers. “I’m wondering if a person like me is actually worthy of love.”

“You are, kiddo,” Patton murmured immediately, wrapping an arm around Thomas’ shoulders. “This isn’t your fault.”

“They’re parts of me though,” Thomas said with a casual shrug. “Those sides were parts of me, right? So doesn’t that kind of make it my fault, even indirectly?”

“Everyone is capable of doing bad things, Thomas,” Patton said. “You choose not to act on those parts of yourself. You can’t be faulted for those parts existing.”

Thomas laughed and flung the rubber band across the room. “You sound like Janus.”

“I’m trying to fill in,” Patton admitted, leaning back next to him. “Janus isn’t doing so well.”

“Oh, because he realized that he’d left two sides alone where they’d be badly hurt all the time and didn’t listen when they tried to tell him that’s what he’d done?”

Patton winced. “Yep.”

“Sorry. Don’t have much of a filter right now,” Thomas said, kicking his feet back and forth against the front of the couch.

“I know, kiddo. It’s okay.”

“You think I’d be used to this by now,” Thomas said lightly. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, kiddo.”

“Well how does it work?” Thomas asked curiously, flipping around to lay down on the couch. “Where does he go? Is he just reforming in my subconscious or something? Is he just straight up gone? What if he never comes back? Am I just never going to be able to fully process how fucked up I am?”

“Thomas,” Patton said weakly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever know what to do, Patton,” Thomas said. He sniffed, and leaned back against the couch cushions as tears started to drip past his smile. “I don’t think I’m ever going to know what to do with this.”

Patton sniffed and laid down next to Thomas. “That’s okay, kiddo,” he whispered. “You’re not alone in that.”

“I want Anxiety back,” Thomas said.

“Me too, kiddo,” Patton murmured, squeezing Thomas gently. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Are you sure?”

And because Patton was filling in for Janus, and lying to himself was how Thomas needed to do self care right now, he squeezed Thomas a little tighter and murmured, “Yes.”

...

Chapter Thirty-Five

#sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #character thomas sanders #platonic intruality #platonic patmas #?#I guess that's the tag?#my fic

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gingerlee-holds · 2 years ago

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Pillow Fort Pick-Me-Up

this is a sanders sides ficlet for @jinleebelee! i hope they have a great birthday and a great year ^^

Lee!Virgil x Ler!Patton (interpret how you wish)

Virgil jolted awake, breathing fast, the nightmare sticking in his mind. He quickly looked around to make sure he was not still in danger.

'Nope,' he thought. 'Still in Patton's pillow fort-'

The six sides had all spent the day building a pillow fort in Patton's room, and towards the end, it was getting pretty late, so they each fell asleep one by one. Roman and Logan dozed off first, mid-argument. Janus thought he would be sneaky and pretend to fall asleep to trick everyone, but then he drifted off. Goober. Remus somehow fell asleep with his butt in the air, leaving only Patton and Virgil awake. Patton gave Virgil one more comforting hand squeeze before he drifted into dreamland, making Virgil the last to fall asleep, as usual.

Now, he found that he was the first one awake, except that this time, he hated the loneliness that came with it. Virgil looked over at Patton, still asleep. Then, nudging him gently, he mumbled, "Pat…?"

The morality side mumbled and rolled over. "Yeah, kiddo?" He opened one eye sleepily and grinned.

"I had a nightmare…"

"Well, makes sense, ya didn't put sugar under your pillow! No wonder you didn't have sweet dreams!"

Virgil smiled softly. "Pat…"

Patton sighed playfully. "Okay, kiddo, c'mere!" He pulled Virgil closer, wrapping his arms around him. "Green, yellow, red?"

By this point, this had become a routine for the two. Whenever Virgil was upset, Patton adored using a particular method of cheering him up.

"G-green…"

"Perfect~!" Patton wasted no time, gently tickling Virgil's soft belly, sending the anxious boy into giggles. "And now it's time for Thomas' Giggly Side to make an appearance~!"

"Nohohohohooo, shuhuhut uhuhuhup!" Virgil smiled and felt his fears and the nightmare slip away as he allowed himself to become putty in Patton's hands.

Patton leaned in close, whispering, "Shhh~ You don't wanna wake up the others, do you~?"

Virgil whined softly and was about to cover his mouth with his hands before Patton swirled a finger into his belly button, causing his arms to shoot back down. "W-WahahaAhAIT-!!"

"Yes~?"

"IhIhiHiT TIhiHihickles!!!!!"

Patton grinned, his fingers moving to tickle Virgil's armpits. "Good! That's the point, kiddo!" He leaned in to place a quick raspberry to his neck.

"EEHEEK!!! VIHIHILLAIN!! DAHAHARK SIHIHIDE!!!"

Patton gasped indignantly. "Those are fighting words, kiddo!" His scribbling over his belly focused on Virgil's belly button, eliciting squeals and cackles from the anxious side.

"PAHAHAHHAHAHAHT THAHAHAHAHAT'S SOHOHOHO BAHAHHAHAHAD!!!!"

"Take it back!"

"FIHIHIHINE YOUHUHU'RE AHAHHAA GREEHEHEHAT SIHIHIDE!!!"

"And~? What else?"

"YOUHUHU'RE THEHEHE BEHEHEHEHST DAHAHAHHAAD!!!"

"And~?"

"AHAHAHAND THEHEHE BEHEHEST LAHAHAWYER!!"

"Atta boy!" Patton's tickle attack ceased, and he hugged Virgil close. "Feelin better?"

"Yehehehheah, Ihihi ahaham!"

"Good!"

Patton hummed softly as he rubbed Virgil's back, and they fell asleep soon after.

"That… was adorable. I am without words." Logan, and all the other sides for that matter, had long since been awoken by Virgil's laughter, but none of them interrupted the moment.

"Oh, yes, it was absolutely horrible, I hated watching every second of it." Janus was smiling warmly at the sight of the two boys cuddling.

"Alright, gang, let's let the cuties rest, and we can tease them plenty about it tomorrow," Roman said. So they all snuggled closer together, and soft snoring once again filled the little pillow fort.

#sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!patton #kayde wrote something woah #kayde's in a lee mood tag

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an-organized-confusion · 2 years ago

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More art ideas I’ll get to someday... family portraits!

iZombie

Ortiz Family

The last/only photo where Roman, Remus, and their parents were in the same picture was when they were very little... want to say not even 10 years old. Rómulo in stuffy business attire, Mara heavily made-up with ostentatious jewelry and designer wear. It’s very stiff in composition and expression... besides Remus being more squirmy.

Then there’s probably one where Roman is standing with his parents w/ his BA diploma in hand... while Remus is in prison “fucked off”.

Plenty pictures the twins together after the events of main fic, in company of their friends & SOs (Virgil, Janus, Logan... Patton might look a bit awkward if pictured. Just because of HIPAA and therapist/client boundaries. Patton is awkward about Ro and Vi off the clock, man... not helped by them being zombies held in confidence too.)

Enache Family

Virgil with his grandparents, he was an only child and in like... middle school. Just some tenderness, Virgil looks extremely shy in the picture.

Same thing, Virgil’s in HS, dressed in the emo du jour. He is smiling a little bit (as irritable and anxious as he was getting while being a more and more parentified by them, they all still love each other...)

There’s a picture of him and his grandpa when he graduated high school and/or entered college. Virgil is carrying himself with more confidence (thanks to all the therapy work he did with Patton.)

Gymrat

Sanchez Family

I think Ro does have a pretty tattered family picture with Remus and their parents not long before they died. Probably the only family they’re willing to honor on the ofrenda as adults...

There’s probably a picture of the twins with their uncle Esteban. Remus is trying his hardest to ruin the picture - they didn’t bother re-shooting. (It might also be obvious he wants to tear off the frilly dress Esteban made him wear...)

Remus wants to burn that one, expedite the bastard’s second death, piss on the dude’s grave, just everything. (After all the BS the uncle put the two through - especially Roman.)

Roman can’t make himself throw it away, but tries to bury it far away from sight/awareness. His memory issues are a blessing and a curse sometimes...

Begotten

Espinoza Family

Just a normal, happy family with the twins and their parents. One before the twins started having their nightmares, so like 5 years old. Carrie might be in a jumpsuit and/or the jacket she got from a mentor named “Old Rosie”, from her work as an airplane tech.

Another after they started, creepy middle-schooler twins vibes there. Just give a sense that there’s something wrong with them, but their parents unchanging in their tenderness. Vic might be wearing veterinarian scrubs.

One after the twins graduated HS... and after everything was turned upside down.

Version 1: looks normal. Except the twins still can’t not look creepy in photos.

Version 2: the outlines of Roman and Remus’s Horrors visible (dragon & kraken), Vic’s gathering magical energy, Carrie is wielding a crossbow...

There’s several with extended family too, joyous affairs really.

Janus’s Brood

A picture of Janus, Logan, Virgil, and Patton. Janus is like the pseudo-matriarch in the group, basically adopting the other three. Consider the rest having a sibling-like relationship, Logan the eldest and Patton the youngest. (Janus may be especially soft with Virgil and Patton because she crossed paths with them while they were orphaned/lost/homeless kids... Logan was barely an adult, in comparison.)

An extremely crowded picture where the Espinozas are crammed into it. It’s certainly something to behold. :,D

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #reference #creativitwins #(creativitwins all the way down... pffft)#(i'll never not be amused abt saying 'those boys aint right' at the begotten!twins)#(carrie and vic are only slightly less confused why they can't not look creepy in the fic after they realized their natures)#(the twins don't know what everyone else's problem is)#(also gymrat!remus being a huge nerd despite him wanting to exude Delinquent Energy amuses me to no end)#(this feral looking cryptid human can fix your entire server room if it annoys him badly enough)#(or if he's bored enough out of his skull)#(or wants to spite someone)#(logan AND virgil will happily call him a nerd)

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lavendersnsfs · 3 months ago

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🫠 stream of thought on how Logan this time, would do Hypnosis with each side (it went fluffy route, might continue with the other ways it could go next time)

- Three sides have learned how to do it, Janus, Logan and surprisingly? Patton

- They’d all consented to sometimes being hypnotized, and all agreed that it wouldn’t be nsfw unless they planned it in advance

- Logan took the approach of using speed and slowness, certain ways of speaking, and resistance at times as a means to get them deeper, at times even using scripts. The same thing doesn’t always work so it’s said different, or words are changed. It’s methodical with him, and it almost always works

Roman- he has a few trigger words, all different for them all. For Roman it’s ‘I’m at your service’ taking the approach of being of service to him, in any way that’s wanted, or simply ‘your majesty’. His eyes will glaze over and he’ll get this confident look about him. Playing at his ego at first does get him to be more pliant with being made to relax. This is usually his desired outcome for all. For Roman in particular it is pretty easy

Patton- he has two trigger words for Patton and they are “Happy” and “Safe” he’s easy to induce into this all, mainly because subconsciously and consciously he trusts Logan despite anything, and because of many things. Phrases can be used when he’s particularly stressed though like “Would you like to be /carefree/“ his eyes light up and glaze over with a soft happiness, and a small smile adorns his lips. He’s always liked this kind, though he’ll never admit it out loud.

Virgil- For Virgil he does typically have to do induction every time but he doesn’t mind all that much, this is mainly because he doesn’t trust anyone, because anyone could very well be well.. Janus, and it’s not that he doesn’t like Janus, it’s more of the things they were taught as a kid. Don’t lie, it’s a sin. A learned fear that would later be seen as something to work through. If it’s a time he doesn’t need to be induced, it’s when he can be absolutely sure it is Logan (or Patton). In which case it can be done with a touch to the forehead, or “let yourself slip away from who you mainly are” in which case he becomes what they know as the butterflies in your stomach and his eyeshadow becomes a light shade of purple

Remus- as the embodiment of intrusive thoughts, as chaotic as he is. As much as it seems as though he’s always enjoying it, he is the result of high anxiety. This allows him to get away from it. Him being impulsive is a flip of a coin on how easy it’ll be to get him to fall into it “sleeping, falling, floating” is Logan’s main go to even at the request of it being “Bitch” “Dick” and other swear words he’s sure to have asked for another is “fantasy” and that’s his next. The main goal is usually to help him either be away from being intrusive thoughts or simply keeping him distracted with things he enjoys that aren’t necessarily violent. It’s chilled him out a bit here and there

Janus- they do have a bit more of a semi ‘professional’ relationship with this one, it’s typically planned out, and it isn’t all that often. Typically it’s starts with sounds, the snap of a finger to bring attention. A flutter of words that goes from fast, and slows into calming slow cadence of string of words, ending with the phrase “sssinking into the heat, letting my wordss ssslither into your brain” ending again with the snap of his fingers “and sleep” they try new things, or have something set. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Either way though they both learn, whether it’s limits or what works

As for him and how this is for him.. Feelings, something he truly had a hard time admitting to even having himself (to which Thomas now corrects every once in a while to be: logic without emotion isn’t logic at all), but putting someone in a good mood.. he could live with admitting to even just himself, that this was enjoyable.

#hypnosis #went the more fluffy route #might add on later with the others #different next time tho 👀

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 9 months ago

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Green Kitty Cat

Le Request: some Remus and c!Thomas hurt/comfort. Thomas hugs Remus, and because the rat boi is repressed and a bit touch-starved, he kinda has a breakdown while Thomathy hugs him. I mean, this boy is sobbing and clinging to Thommy Salami, and he just isn't sure if this is real or some cruel dream. Maybe it's like Thomas accepting Remus for who he is, including his part in being Creativity? Perhaps a dash of abandonment issues from the Octo Boy 'cause yeah, haha. – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

Read on Ao3

Warnings: abandonment issues

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 1720

It’s a strange thing, honestly, having movie nights with several different parts of yourself that happen to be color-coordinated, but all in all, it’s actually not the weirdest thing that could have happened tonight.

The movie ended about half an hour ago, and the Sides had sunk back into the Mindscape to do whatever it is they do when they’re not helping Thomas work through something.

Read: arguing.

Who knows, maybe they argue during their free time as well, but from the sounds of it, there’s a fair amount of adventuring that happens that they don’t deign to share with Thomas. Which is…probably overall a good thing. If he knew every square inch of what happened in his mind all the time, he’d probably go insane. As Janus was fond of saying, it isn’t the mind’s job to figure itself out. No matter how much Logan wants it to be.

He winces slightly at the memory of that conversation. It had ended up with the rest of them awkwardly watching as Logan and Janus traded barbs and counterpoints. Remus even made popcorn for all of them.

Thomas frowns. Speaking of Remus…

Had it been his imagination—heh—or had Remus seemed…a little off tonight? Sure, trying to gauge what Remus’s ‘normal’ was is a challenge in and of itself, but there hadn’t been any spectacularly disgusting or violent things happening tonight. He’d even come wearing pajamas: these green and black fuzzy socks, Spirited Away sleep pants, and a plain black T-shirt. Granted, the shirt had been stained with what Thomas is going to assume is paint, but he’d just sat in the corner of the room quietly while the movie played. Thomas had snuck glances at him every now and then, just to make sure he was still, you know, watching the movie and not plotting to eviscerate Patton’s stuffed animal with a screwdriver again, but every time, he was just sitting there. Very quietly.

It was…unsettling.

Not in the way Remus is normally unsettling, not in the way Remus likes to be unsettling, but he was just…so still. So quiet. So normal.

So something’s wrong.

Was it the movie? They’d picked a pretty unobjectionable one, even by Patton’s standards, and it wasn’t like it was particularly violent or anything. There were snacks, there were drinks, there were blankets and pillows and everything. Hell, Janus made himself a throne of them until Roman picked up the ‘arm’ and it dissolved into a heap. A smile comes to his face at the memory of the two of them playfully fighting over the pillow before Logan snatched it for himself.

That’s right…Logan and Patton had sat next to each other, Virgil sprawled across the floor between them. Roman had perched on the corner of the couch. Janus sat at the base so he could lean against it. Thomas had sat sort of in the middle of everyone, and Remus…

Remus had been alone.

Did…is that what he’d wanted? Did he want to be all by himself? Maybe, but that doesn’t sound particularly like Remus, so maybe…

He’s jolted out of his thoughts as he walks into the bedroom. On the far side of the bed, beneath the lamp, a shadow stretches out from the foot. It looks like a rock, sort of, a boulder that someone put on the floor. He frowns, taking a step closer, only for his eyes to widen as he hears the soft noises.

Ah.

Oh, dear.

“Remus,” he calls quietly, and the sobs choke off, “Remus, buddy, you okay over there?”

Remus’s shadow twitches. Thomas waits by the door, not willing to move, until he sees part of it that must be Remus’s head moving slowly back and forth.

“Can I come over there?”

He waits a little longer, just until the shadow nods, and he walks over to crouch by the bed. He peers over and his chest clenches at the sight of Remus there, still in his pajamas, contorted into a ball so tight he wonders if it doesn’t hurt. Then, of course, he wonders if that’s the point. That it hurts.

“Hey,” he says, trying to make his voice as non-threatening as possible, “what’s going on, buddy? What can I do?”

Remus sniffles and shakes his head. Thomas eases his way properly onto the floor and holds out and hand. Remus eyes it like it’s going to bite him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. Just…I’m here, okay? If you need someone to be here, I’m right here.”

”You won’t stay.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won’t stay,” Remus repeats in that thin, reedy voice, “you never stay. No one does.”

“I’ll stay,” he says, “I’m bout going anywhere, see?”

Remus just shakes his head. “No. You won’t. No one ever wants to stay with me.”

The way he spits it out, like it’s the vilest curse he can think of, makes Thomas scoot a little closer. “Why doesn’t anyone stay?”

“Because I’m too much. I’m too gross. I’m too—I’m too—“ he scrubs a hand under his nose. “I’m too me.”

Before Thomas can say anything, he barks out a laugh, cruel and humorless.

“And when I wake up this is gonna hurt so fucking much.”

Thomas frowns. “What do you mean, when you wake up?”

“This is a dream, dumbass,” Remus mutters, “so yeah, when I wake up, you’ll be gone.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Remus,” Thomas says very softly, as though he’s talking to a skittish animal, “you’re not dreaming.”

“Yeah, right.”

“You’re not,” he says again, “you’re in my room. You’re awake. I’m really here.”

“No, you’re not. Thomas can’t come into the Mindscape.”

“We’re not in the Mindscape.” Remus raises his head to glare doubtfully out at him with one eye. “Check.”

Remus does…something, which is good because Thomas really was just hoping there was some way to check, but then his eyes are widening and he’s scrambling back like Thomas is going to strike him.

“Shit, shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I thought—I’ll go, I’ll go—“

“Whoa, whoa, hey, hey.” Thomas reaches out for him. “Don’t do that, it’s okay, I’m not mad, see? Just—take a second, you’re okay. Okay? Everything’s okay.”

Remus, still panting like he’s run a hundred miles, stares at him with wide eyes. Thomas moves slowly towards him, trying not to block him in and crowd him against the bed, until he can take him by the shoulder. An honest-to-God whimper comes out of Remus and he quickly shushes it. His eyes are still giant, his breathing still choppy.

“Hey,” he says, still speaking softly, “can I give you a cuddle?”

Remus just stares at him.

“Do you want a cuddle?” When another one of those soft little needy noises comes out, he leans forward and scoops Remus into his arms. “There, how’s that?”

Poor Remus is shuddering and shaking like a cat that’s just come in from the freezing rain. Thomas rubs his back, rocking him back and forth, as Remus clings to his shoulders and whimpers into the crook of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries to focus on breathing deep and even, inhaling and exhaling, creating a gentle guide for Remus to follow. It takes a few tries. Alright, many tries. But eventually, Remus starts to follow with hitching, unsteady breaths.

”Hey, buddy,” Thomas says quietly, “you wanna move to the bed? It might be more comfortable than the floor.”

Remus nods, but makes no move to get up off his lap. Thomas takes a quick breath, hopes those workouts he did…however long ago still have some impact, and lifts Remus up as best he can to deposit him on the bed.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, hushing the frightened keen, “I’m just moving so I can pull the covers down, okay? Come get underneath the blankets, that’s gonna feel better, okay? Come on, there you go…”

It really is like herding a feral cat, he thinks as he coaxes a wide-eyed Remus into the bed, a fuzzy, green, man-shaped cat.

He’s also not sure he would’ve ever described Remus as ‘cute’ before, but seeing him like this now, with the covers pulled up to his chin and his little hands peeping out from underneath, he thinks it might not be the worst word to describe him. Of course, he’s still mostly worried about what made Remus into this, so he quickly turns off the big lights and gets under the covers, letting Remus latch back onto him like a kitten afraid of the dad. Again, surprisingly cute.

“What’s going on,” he asks softly, running his fingers through Remus’s hair, “can you tell me?”

Remus shakes his head, burying his head into the crook of his shoulder. Thomas tangles his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You just feeling a little lonely?” A nod and he lets out a sympathetic noise, pulling Remus closer. “You can stay with me, if you want. I can help. I won’t leave.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Remus, you can stay. Do you want—I know Roman’s your usual cuddle buddy, I can see if he—“

“No,” Remus mumbles, “this…this is good.”

Thomas chuckles, ruffling Remus’s hair. “Alright, then. You wanna try and get some sleep?”

“Yeah.”

Thomas closes his eyes, Remus snuggling into him. The two of them begin to drift slowly off to sleep, and he has a dream about a small black cat in an alleyway, in a cardboard box, eagerly looking for someone to take him home.

He dreams he gets the cat a little green collar and as many pillows to tear apart as its little claws can handle, and wakes up smiling to the echoes of its joyful yelps.

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #thomas sanders

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oatmealdaydreams · 4 months ago

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Hearthfire (6/16)

Chapter V | Avoidance

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Summary: Something goes missing in the garden, and another appears in its place. Janus isn't doing well, and he's reconsidering his friendship with Remus. Remus is the Imagination when Orange decides shit needs to be addressed.

Warning: insecurity, burn scars, considering ending a friendship, minor threats; let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 5844

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Yellow hasn’t dared to be around Green for a while.

Orange tries his best as one Side to keep track of what the Others are doing and generally how they’re interacting as a way to best piece together how Rainbow is doing. You’d think with all of these angry, bitter thoughts and debatable Hope that they’d actually be expressing these feelings to, oh, let’s say, Rainbow himself, so they can actually figure shit out?

If you truly do think that, dear firelets, Orange thinks, not needing to speak outloud to be heard, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention.

You see, there have been outbursts, yes, but the ratio between outbursts and repressed feelings is outrageously tipped on one side. And not on the side it should be, of course, because then none of them would be the way they are right now, would they? Perhaps talking about ratios sounds more like Indigo’s thing—to be fair, it is—but he’s nothing if not a teacher. And, well, with every little flame of pent-up indignant anger Indigo has, Orange usually finds his way to him. What can he do besides learn? He has to observe and learn and take note of many different things for his job. He’s awfully good at learning, if he says so himself.

This is going somewhere, he promises, there's a point to this looping around.

Orange has learned, distressingly so, that Yellow keeps hiding away his own citric fires in fear of losing himself because of vulnerability.

And Green is not helping in the slightest.

See? It looped around. There’s a point.

Yellow is the embodiment of Deception and Hidden Things—or, as Rainbow calls him, Deceit. He is the Preservation of Self that tangles the Others in pretty, golden threads. He’s a serpent that strings up webs of glittering thread and pulls at a piece of string when he deems it necessary. He uses the Others as convenient rungs to climb to Rainbow and say ‘enough is enough’ because Cyan only knows so much when it comes to caring for oneself, specifically when it comes to allowing oneself a break and that being selfish isn’t a damn atrocity. He pulls soft, warm blankets over sleepy Sides’ heads when all of everything is too much and they need some time to rest. Yellow watches from the shadows—much like Orange does—half-formed and waiting for the Others to fall asleep before he gently cares for them and tucks them in to make sure they’re all safe and cozy.

It’s not like they’d let him do much while awake, especially given recent events and past actions that he needs to make up for. Trust is a valuable thing, and it’s so easily broken.

And it seems trust between Yellow and Green has shattered.

=====

In the Flower Garden, there’s a pond. Near that pond are scattered leaves and tree roots. Under those leaves and tree roots, hidden in some kind of nest, is an egg.

There are no frogs or toads or amphibians in the Flower Garden. Nor are there platypuses, as odd as that is to point out, but it feels necessary for how close to the water that egg is sitting. The only birds are the crow and the cardinal—and a canary, but hey, the canary isn’t who you’d think he is—and there are no waterfowl.

So, why in the fuck, can you please tell Orange, thank you, why the fuck is there a goose egg?

For as long as Orange has been tending to the Flower Garden, he’s never seen one of these critters reproducing, much less one of them laying an egg that’s of a species unlike anything already in the garden. No offspring, no eggs, nothing. There’s only one of each of his beloved critters, and so there’s a much lower chance of having to deal with newborns. New little ones are difficult business, especially when you’re only prepared in taking care of adult animals because the last time you tended to a young animal was back when you were young yourself. It’s been years. Orange is less than knowledgeable in how to care for geese, for that matter.

And yet…

Orange kneels down in front of the nest, carefully poking through to examine the egg without touching it. No mother is warming it. There’s no critter to look after it. It’s just a lone, little egg. Eggs can’t survive in the cold very well. Someone needs to care for it properly until it hatches. And, well, he is the carer of the garden.

And yet.

Fuck, he’s gonna need to look after a goose egg, isn’t he?

What is he going to do when it hatches? He doesn’t even know when it got here! Or whose it is!

Orange sighs, resigning to his fate as he tugs on a different pair of gloves. He can use his gardening gloves for the older animals, but eggs are delicate. He can’t risk oils from humanized hands or charcoal stains from when he was sitting at his desk and caught it on fire by accident. This pair of gloves are a lighter orange, like that of a pale orange blossom, and their fabric is a great deal softer for handling more delicate tasks. They’re a type of thermal gloves, used to keep the fabric warm to help heat up a critter who’s shivering. Orange is naturally warmer than most of the Others—except for maybe the Creatives, those two are space heaters—and so being able to give some of his heat to those he cares for and tends to is preferable. It gets even more preferable when he’s burning because of his own—or Rainbow’s, for that matter—indignance. Or when the Others have overwhelming hurt and citric pain welling up in their thoughts that blind Orange and keep him bedstuck.

He digresses.

With warm breath and warm gloves, Orange gently cradles the egg in the palms of his hands. He eases it out of the twigs and leaves and thick tree roots, scooping against his chest to better look at it and see if it’s been hurt or not. There’s no scratches or cracks or prematurely broken shell, so he deems it okay for now. It’s a little cold. He sets it back into the nest, keeping his warm gloves on it. The heat should help it mature and grow inside properly before it’s ready to hatch. Orange’ll need to research and study different goose care videos to get a better idea for what he’s going to do about it. He waits for the egg to warm up a little further before retracting his hands slowly away, sitting back on his knees as he thinks.

He can’t move the nest. It’s already been built in a seemingly secure and safe location for the egg to live. Whoever laid it—or had it, or whatever—decided near the pond was the best place to keep it alive. He’s not going to fuck with that, least he piss off a potentially very-dangerous-when-provoked mother. Trying to move the nest and rebuild another one is too much work, let alone the fact that he could end up damaging the egg in the process if he did that. He’ll just have to keep a close eye on it. Make sure the other critters leave it be. All that and then some.

Orange has a different problem to tend to, anyway.

He stands, glancing around with narrowed eyes in search of something. The Flower Garden is nice today, a gentle breeze rolling through and rustling the grass lightly. The cardinal sings a second more of a song as the crow watches from a branch above and the skunk listens from among a particularly twisted bunch of roots at the base of the tree. To his left, he glances across a vast sea of butterfly weeds. He spots the bumblebee, buzzing from bloom to bloom to bloom as it sways side to side in flight. To his right is more flora, another little critter. The little armadillo sleeps peacefully under the warm Sun, twitching lightly as it dreams away. Seeing the pup so calm brings a small smirk to Orange’s face. He glances over the Flower Garden again and again, frowning now as he realizes there’s something missing.

The Shifter Dog isn’t anywhere to be found.

Orange whistles out the first few seconds of the Winnie the Pooh theme song, and no dog comes bounding up to him at the sound of it. Usually, when he can’t find the little puppy anywhere, whistling brings its attention to him.

But there’s no dog.

He tries to ignore the thought of what that could mean for the Side connected to the Shifter Dog, and scans one last time in vain Hope.

Nothing. No one. Gone.

Orange sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. Cyan may need some checking up on. It may have something to do with what happened with Purple the other day...but that doesn’t explain why it’s just gone. It could’ve gotten out through his entrance to the Flower Garden. That’s happened before, him being too tired to notice a slightly ajar door and suddenly have a bouncing critter tearing up his room. The only thing about that is he’d definitely notice a stray, shape-shifting dog bounding around in his room and hitting its wagging tail against everything it passes by. Why is that example so specific, you ask? Ask why, go on, he dares you.

So, no, the Shifter Dog wouldn’t have gone into his room. If it did, it technically wouldn’t be missing.

What does this mean for Cyan, and what does it have to do with the goose egg?

“Fuck you, you gotta be kidding me,” Orange mutters to himself as an idea pops into his head.

What if the goose egg is the Shifter Dog? Or, at least, from the Shifter Dog?

Yeah, that’d explain absolutely nothing because dogs aren’t supposed to fucking lay eggs of another fucking species. But, hey, humanoids aren’t supposed to catch on fire every time they’re angry, so what’s it to him? He can’t really judge it much, then he’d be a bit hypocritical. Not many things make complete sense in the Mind, anyway.

Did the Shifter Dog leave of its own free will? Well, yes, it would appear so, especially since the only one who knows about this place is Orange. He’d never make the critters leave, that’d be absurd! Fuck that, how would that even work? It’s not like they’d have another place to go and make home of. The Others wouldn’t...they’re already knee-deep in issues of their own. Finding out they have a connected animal, let alone taking proper care of it, would be chaotic and frustrating. Not in a fun way. Not even in the Green-typical brand of chaos. It’d just cause more problems than solve them. Perhaps an animal companion would help a few of them—Purple could definitely use a cat—but critters like armadillos and bumblebees? Yeah, no, fuck off.

Orange sighs, figuring he should at least check on Cyan.

Before he can even reach the door to exit from the Flower Garden, however—

I’m nothing but a villain to them, a snake among the mammals, a thorn that refuses to dislodge itself. Why can’t they see me any differently? Can’t they see I’m trying?

—and, yeah, a violent tug in his chest and Orange sinks out of the garden against his will and want as his eyes flash a bright amber.

=====

Orange doesn’t bother to shift into his mist form, simply tugging his gloves off and pocketing them.

He glances around, realizing he’s in Yellow’s room. A detailed work desk sits near a corner, gilded in engravings. There’s a tank or two of actual living snakes; one is a yellow corn snake, and the other is a California kingsnake. Tiny nameplates sit by the base of each tank. The kingsnake’s reads, ‘Apep’. The corn snake’s says, ‘Kundalini’. There’s a four poster bed that sits against a window, warm and faded in the sunlight. A heat lamp sits on a bedside table.

The Keeper of Gates, the glittering serpent, has his hands in his head as he sits on the bench near the end of his bed.

Yellow’s dressed in his typical attire: capelet, bright gloves tugged on, cane resting by his side, hat next to him on the bench. There’s a pale, yellow ribbon laying on the hardwood floors near his feet. His gloved hands—only one pair of them are apparent, how strange—move to grip his hair lightly. The human side of his face is a little puffy and red, the small shine of tear tracks visible on his face.

Orange stands in the shadows, watching, waiting, for another tart-amber thought to spring about.

I don’t want to be the villain in their story. Why can’t I be a bumblebee instead of a wasp?

His eyes flash glowing amber in the dark edges of Yellow’s room, and he steps out.

The thud of his boots alert Yellow, though he barely flinches or twitches since he’s so used to Green’s usual intrusion on his space.

“Remus, not now, I…” he trails off as he slowly looks up, hands falling from his hair to his lap.

He stares. Orange makes his way to him, standing before him with an eyebrow raised and a smirk.

“Didn’t expect me, Yellow?” he teases.

“What do you want?” Yellow doesn’t even try to feign a smoothness he doesn’t feel, not this time.

What’s with everyone being so uncharacteristically...well, out of character?

His gaze flicks to an unseen force, a specific force who looks ready to thwack him upside the head for the amount of times he’s done that. Orange snorts to himself—fuck you, Orange—and returns his attention back to Yellow, who apparently either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t give a shit. Which, honestly, that’s fair enough. There are more pressing matters to tend to.

“Just sitting here and moping is unlike you, Yellow,” Orange starts, pacing in front of him. “Where’s the fun in that? Come on, you can deign to smash a few of their windows, can’t you?”

Yellow looks away from him, making no comment.

“Or, and this is one of my favorites, break a bone with a bat!” Orange summons his spiked bat in hand, twirling it around before resting it on his shoulder.

Yellow rolls his eyes, “You sound like Remus.”

“Oh, speaking of Green, he’s been pretty fired-up lately. Any idea why?”

The serpent’s lips press a hard line before pursing and tch-ing. He turns, a perfected mask sliding right atop his face, the usual feigned smoothness returning in the blink of an eye.

“Well, I can’t imagine a single reason why,” his voice lilts, a faux sweetness he doesn’t bear, “What ever could I know about that?”

“Oh, really? Well, then, I supposed I’ve got to ask him. See if he’s up to some family-friendly property damage. I hear Cyan’s got this new radio thing in his room,” Orange puts his free hand on his hip, not at all buying the bullshit Yellow’s trying to sell him.

Yellow’s hands clench in his lap, though he keeps his face as steady as he can. Perhaps he took notes from Indigo, it’s a pretty good attempt.

“Now, now, Patton’s done nothing to deserve a little baby scheme, now has he? There’s plenty of property in the Imagination to destroy if you’re so eager, Wrath.”

Orange raises an eyebrow again at the choice of name.

“Aw, am I ‘Wrath’ to you? I thought calling people by their function was beneath you, Yellow.”

“Oh, honey, many things are beneath me.”

“Like Green?”

There it is, Orange thinks as the mask shatters and freshly squeezed citric anger molds onto Yellow’s face.

It’s still red and puffy and tearstained, glittering scales on one side and messy human skin on the other. He should try to remember what he looks like before trying to impersonate being okay and unbothered, especially since he isn’t.

“Don’t you dare,” Yellow points a gloved finger at the arsonist. “Do not.”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve, Yellow?”

“I said, don’t.”

“Tell me why not. Why shouldn’t I continue, huh?”

“I—you—I know what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, really, I do? Strange…”

“Stop, I know what you’re doing.”

“Because you do the same shit?”

“Wrath.”

“Come on, enlighten me, Yellow. What’s so wrong with talking about Green? I thought you were friends!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be, anymore!”

A bright flash of amber erupts from Orange’s eyes as it does the same to Yellow’s, the shout ringing in the air and echoing as their surrounding buzz.

Orange blinks in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that. Something about being regarded as the villain by most of everyone, or even something relating to the situation with Red and how much he hurt him, but not his friendship with Green. That’s—that’s something else entirely. Sure, when Purple left, their only option was to either stick together, or do what Orange did and live through lonely shadows as watching eyes in the darkness. They’d chosen to stick together, even when Yellow couldn’t deal with Green’s interruptive rambling for more than five minutes. Through being left, through revealing themselves to Rainbow, through being regarded as Unwelcome and Bad, through finally being Accepted—they’ve been through everything. They make evil schemes and plots and play Dance, Dance Revolution when Cyan isn’t in his room. They’ll fight and quarrel from time to time, but it always ends before it gets to an overbearing point.

So, yes, this surprises Orange, and it is rather distressing.

Yellow blinks as he glances around his room, one hand feeling the bench he sits on to make sure he’s still there. A gloved hand wipes his human cheek, finding the last remains of tears. It wets his glove. He nods to himself as if remembering that he was crying before Orange even came into the room. He swallows.

Orange can only stare.

“Maybe we shouldn’t anymore…” Yellow repeats, voice distanced and quiet.

Oh…oh, dear, no. No, no, no.

What?

“Yellow…” Orange can’t find words to say.

Yellow looks at Orange, a humorless laugh barking out of him.

“What? Did I finally get you to shut up, Wrath?” it’s not funny, it’s not light-hearted, there’s just a pinch in Orange’s throat as Yellow speaks.

“You can’t keep avoiding him, Yellow,” he says instead.

A huff, “What else can I do? How else could I make up for what I’ve done? All I’ve accomplished is proving them right.”

“Maybe, but you can still prove them wrong.”

“Really?” a scoff, a tch sound. “How do you propose I do that?”

“Be vulnerable.”

Yellow looks away again.

“You asked, Yellow, and I answered. Never said you’d like the answer.”

“Oh, how honest of you,” Yellow snarks.

“You’re an asshole, Yellow. You’re an asshole, but you’re not heartless. You care. Maybe show them you do.”

Yellow turns to face Orange, to tell him it’s not that easy, how he’s hurt them too much at this point, they won’t give him another chance, not after how he’s continuously treated Red when he should’ve been protecting him…

But as soon as he turns, Orange is gone.

=====

Yellow thinks he shouldn’t be friends with Green anymore? That he has to be the villain of the story? That he’s too far gone in what he’s done to everyone, especially to Red?

Orange knows better.

He doesn’t need to wait for a tug in his chest before he pops in on Green, who’s…not in his room. God fucking damnit. He’s going to have to go into the Imagination, isn’t he? If it lets him, that is. That place has a mind of its own, and it tends to be very protective of the Creatives.

Stepping through strange globs of gunk and odd stains he rather not put a name to, Orange spots what he’s pretty sure is Green’s entrance into the Imagination. Green’s room has all the standard items you’d find: a bed with bits of slime on it, a craft desk filled to the brim with nudist sculptures and unfinished projects, a doorless closet that looks more like a storage unit than something to organize clothes in, and appears to be at least five different bear traps scattered across hardwood floors. So, yeah, standard. Standard for Green, he should specify. He never said it was a typical bedroom, now did he?

Orange kicks some stray pulsing blob he rather not think about, and bends down to take a better look at the trapdoor. Of course. Green’s entrance is a door in the floor.

Dramatic little Duke, he thinks as he pulls on the handle.

The trapdoor decidedly doesn’t budge, and instead there’s a shimmer of something sparkly. A quick buzz and—nope! Orange jumps away before the door can sting him as a million tiny wasps come flying out the keyhole. They disappear as soon as Orange’s hands are off the door handle. He warily inches closer. There’s a few ringing bells as the Imagination talks—probably scolding him, he’s overheard the twin Creatives joke about it when it does that—and all he can do is sit on his knees in the midst of whatever the fuck is soaking the floor near the trapdoor.

He’s changing into better pants once he gets back to his room, what the fuck is both wet and dry all at once like this?

The trapdoor itself is metallic and gothic in aesthetic. There’s dark, thin metal for the handle, bolts that hold spruce wood planks together, crude engravings carved here and there, and a sheen of radioactive green paint covering the entirety of the wood—with a few small exceptions where he can see purposefully disturbing drawings finger-drawn in the paint that leave some of the wood exposed.

The Imagination jingles through the door again. Orange sighs.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he mumbles to it.

It stops. A few locking mechanisms sound off, a spring of somesort, and then a futuristic-looking screen appears in the middle of the trapdoor. The background is dark with bright, white letters actively being typed on the forefront of it.

‘Can you understand me now, the One Who Sees Anger?’ it reads.

“Yes,” he answers, scoffing at what it calls him.

‘Why do you wish to enter through the Green Duke’s gateway?’

“Because I need to see him.”

‘Why?’

“He’s angry.”

‘So? Do you not trust me, the one who cares for the Green Duke and the Red Prince, to look after him?’

“Do you think leaving an angry Green to his own devices is a wise choice, especially when it’s about Red?”

It pauses, ‘...No, I do not.’

“Then let me do my job.”

Something clicks, a soft whirring sound, ‘Do not take my kindness for granted, the One Who See Anger. I am watching.’

“Wouldn’t dare to.”

Orange moves back slightly as the trapdoor swings itself open, a matte darkness and a set of eerie cobble stairs inside it. The stairs are unlit by any light, and the darkness stretches on and on and on. The set of stairs cascades and spirals down into a supposed abyss.

Orange sighs, muttering aside, “Here we fucking go.”

Orange hops into the darkness, descending the staircase as the trapdoor slams shut behind him and the keyhole briefly glows orange.

=====

It’s not just darkness and cobblestone and eerie foreboding following your every move like you’re constantly being watched. The staircase is also wet with something that isn’t water. That something smells foul and is a tad sticky. Orange really Hopes that it’s not what he thinks it is.

If he were to guess where the fuck he currently is, he’d say it’s either leading to a basement of some sort or the descent down a tall castle tower. Of course, with Green, you never truly know where the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re stepping in, so the odds of guessing it correctly are near slim. Unless you’re Indigo, because apparently Indigo knows Green a lot better than most of the Others do when it comes to wacky experiments and creations. What did Green once call him, his mad scientist partner?

Orange digresses.

There’s a dim light near the bottom of the landing. A landing that’s got glowing, blue mushrooms scattered all over it. The dim light illuminates warm yellows and reds. It’s probably a torch, which means this is probably in a castle or a dungeon, which means Green is going to be so furious when Orange shows up to check on him. After the whole visit with Yellow, noticing how he’s been avoiding his longest companion, thinking he’s gone way too far from any chance at healing what he’s fucked up, well, you could imagine the only Side who could ever make that little bumblebee see there’s a lot more fucked-up shit that’s been forgiven is Green. So, down this weird fucking stairwell in this weird fucking castle with the weird fucking wetness and the weird fucking mushrooms. The glowy mushrooms, which, by the way, have sharp teeth and a mouth and who keep snarling at Orange as he tries to step over them and not get bitten.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

As soon as he’s passed the snarling mushroom creatures, he’s met with a dark door. It’s made of the same metal the trapdoor is, the same wood, by the looks of it. When he pushes on it lightly, it gives way, a lot lighter than he thought it’d be. Well, hm. Again, this is Green’s space and domain, so everything in here has some sort of odd twist to it in one way or another.

Except for the giant fucking panther, that’s pretty standard.

Please note the sarcasm.

The Panther sits nearly as tall as a skyscraper, towering over Orange easily. It bends its neck to glance at him, eyeing his attire and sniffing the air he’s brought with him. It’s a black panther, oddly reminiscent of Bagheera from The Jungle Book. It snorts in his face as Orange stands there, stepping back once, twice, thrice until his back is nearly up against the doorway. The Panther growls lightly as it catches a whiff of burnt steel and flickering campfires, narrowing its stark yellow eyes at him. Orange puts his hands up in defense, trying to make himself look smaller.

Look, he may be all righteous fury and shit, but he knows better than to fuck with a massive panther that seems to be a bit displeased with his presence being in Green’s domain.

Best not to aggravate what’s taller than a fucking skyscraper, hm?

It doesn’t need to bend its neck if it were to sit tall again. Instead of being led into a cramped, damp castle dungeon, Orange stands out in an open field of dark purple grass and more of the fanged blue glowy mushrooms. It’s a vast plain of dark, burnt red skies. There are twin moons side by side in the sky, both at a crescent in their phases. One moon faces one direction, and the other moon faces the opposite. They sit so close to each other’s backs that it looks almost as if they could be conjoined. The moons themselves are pale green, eerily white spotted, and absolutely strange with millions of faces etched into them. By the soft glow of the mushroom creatures and what the twin moons illuminated in foreboding light, Orange could see the Panther awfully well. Though, if it were to ever hide amongst the dark of the odd stairwell, ways before the singular torch that sits on the wall inside in front of the door, he would be helpless against it.

The Panther, snarling, stops for a moment. Its ears flick around as grass rustles from far off. Its eyes dart over to the sound’s origin, turning its head and tilting in question. Turning immediately back to Orange, huffs in his face…

…and picks him up between its massive jaws.

Orange yelps for a moment, not prepared to be snatched by the Panther, but alas, he cannot escape such a fate.

The Panther strides across the field of snapping and growling mushrooms, their glow reflecting in its gaze as it carries him. He turns his head to look at its eyes, noticing how they search. It does not harm him. The hold in its jaws is firm, yes, but nothing that renders pain. He lets his head drop as he dangles like a little rag doll, from side to side. It’s warm, the Panther’s breath smells of fish and some metallic thing that he no longer cares to put a name to. Its paws thud thud thud as it walks, towering miles above the ground. It’s a good thing Orange doesn’t have a fear of heights, then, being so high up and unable to do anything about it. All this swaying is sure to give him a headache, though.

After a bit of setting over a sea of glowing mushrooms and purple-bruised grass, the Panther purrs quietly in greeting to someone. Orange can’t turn his head in the direction of it, but there’s a rustling, a soft thump of what he thinks is a basket, and panting breath as this certain someone stops whatever they’re doing. It almost sounds like they’re sitting down in the grass, amongst the feisty little fungi.

“Ugh—whatcha got there, Ducissa?” the person asks, groaning as they catch their breath.

Wait a second—

“Have ya got someone for me? Who’s—oh, it’s you,” the person—Green, his brain supplies as he realizes who it is—says, a sharp sigh following.

The Panther, Ducissa, as Green calls it, sets Orange down gently, freeing him from its jaws. A loud thud as the ground shakes, and Ducissa lays down with its head resting on its front paws. Its tails flicks now and again, seemingly content. It purrs lightly as it rests in Green’s presence. Green stands, brushing himself off, dressed in what looks more akin to a gardener’s attire. Interesting…

“Why’re you here, dickass?” Green asks, leaving the basket half-full of oddly transparent berries on the ground next to a particularly bigger glowy mushroom creature.

The mushroom creatures growl quietly at Orange as he stands there, but don’t dare to snap or nip him as Green glances at them all with this look. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were just hostile little fungi. However, he does know better. These little things are Green’s creations, odds are in his favor; they’d listen to him.

“I had a little visit with Yellow,” Orange says, glancing at Ducissa for a moment just to make sure it’s actually resting.

Its eyes watch them.

“Tch, ‘course ya did. What, he send ya here to try ‘n get outta shit?” Green scoffs, pulling off a pair of rougher-looking gloves.

“No, Green, I’m here of my own free will,” Orange replies.

A mumble, “‘Free will’...he’d go on some philosophical rant ‘bout what free will is, the fuckwad.”

“What happened after that meeting, huh? What’s up with all that shit, Green?”

Green looks at him, the mushroom creatures growling a little louder as he does. Orange doesn’t dare move from his spot, adjusting his spiked leather jacket and fiddling with his ring finger as he notices the hostile things from his side view. Ducissa narrows its eyes at him, tailing thumping this way and that.

Green sniffs, wiggling his nose and mustache as he does.

“How’d you know ‘bout that, ya bastard?” he asks instead.

Orange raises an eyebrow, “Yellow isn’t the only one that slinks around in the shadows.”

“Hm.”

“So?”

Orange tries to be patient, he does, but he has things to do and fucked-up little critters to take care of. He folds his arms and taps his foot.

“Ha! Impatient, are we~”

Orange doesn’t comment.

Green frowns, “What the fuck do you think, if ya already know so much?”

“I think you need to talk to him.”

“‘Talk’—fuck you, Wrath, fuck off!” the little kit’s eyes are speckled with orange flecks as he points hard, accusing, at the canary. “He hurt my brother! Like the fuck I’d talk to his ass.”

He hurt Roro way more than any of the Others could see! How would anyone else believe him thanks to what Janus has done?

“Is that why he’s convinced you shouldn’t be friends anymore? Funny…”

Green stops short, hand falling to his side, open stare.

“What?”

“He hurt Red. Hurting Red pisses you off. He feels guilt over hurting Red and pissing you off. Do I really need to explain it to you? And here I thought you were best friends,” condescending tone flutters through the air like a vindictive butterfly.

Green’s face screws up, brows furrowing, eyes narrowing, and behind Orange—well, the giant panther starts growling alongside the increasing-in-volume glowy fungi.

And then Orange’s eyes sting, burning amber so bright it almost blinds Green as he shields his eyes.

He doesn’t want me anymore?

Green blinks as he pulls his arm away, staring at Orange in more confusion than anger or hurt.

“The fuck was that?” he says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Orange mutters aside before raising his volume for the little kit to hear, “If you feel so angry about it, why not do something?”

Orange summons his spiked bat in hand, pointing it non-threateningly at Green for a mere second before Ducissa can even snarl at him for it.

“If you don’t wanna talk, why not bash in a few of his beloved books, huh? You’re not one to miss such a fun opportunity!” he stands his bat on the ground and leans on it.

“Tch, I ain’t able to sink into his room anymore…” Green admits.

“Huh, well, looks like he’s avoiding you, hm?” Orange tilts his head.

“He should. Next time I see that fuckwad’s face, I may bash it in.”

“Pft, no, you won’t.”

“‘Cuse me?”

“You’ll want to, but you won’t. Because no matter what, you don’t want to scare your brother, and we both know bashing Yellow’s head in will do just that.”

Orange plays a smug smile as Green looks away, hands clenching as he summons his morning star. The grip looks a tad loose, he should probably fix it sometime soon. Even Cyan knows how much he cares for that thing. His thumb rubs the grip, feeling the texture over and over and over again.

“Yellow thinks he’s fucked-up beyond repair,” Orange starts as he snaps his bat away, serious look twinkling in his eyes. “And Red’s not going to heal without some sort of civil agreement with Yellow.”

Green looks back to him.

Orange speaks as he sinks out, “Make sure they know things can only move on if they make an effort towards it, no matter who’s to blame.”

And he’s gone before Ducissa can swat at him.

#sanders sides #orange side #orange sanders #thomas sanders #character thomas #virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #chapter 5 #hearthfire

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the-bisexual-bitch · 8 months ago

Text

Sorry for taking a few days lol

Forewarning- these are just my hcs, yours are chill too, don't bully me <3

Logan:

Very sharp frame (triangles), a little taller than Virgil, 5'5(.75, he measured)

Sorta hooked nose

These glasses v

Short hair, parted on the left side (if he were looking at himself from the front)

Very carefully styled, if a single hair is out of place, he has a conniption

Dark brown hair

Blue eyes (grey in the right lighting)

VERY straight teeth. Almost disturbingly so

wears the same(ish) clothes every day, wears like, one color (black, grey, white) outside his blue tie

Virgil

Sharp frame (think... I dunno, trapazoids), Second shortest, ~5'5

On the thinner end- on the edge of a healthy weight

Greek nose

Wavy, chin length hair

bangs styled over eyes, overall kinda (artfully) messy

Dark brown hair, usually at least a little bit dyed purple

I'm flip-flopping between lavender and dark brown eyes

Sharp teeth (think vampire), but slightly crooked teeth, as if you took off braces a little bit too soon

Several piercings (two cartilage piercings and two lobe piercings per ear, a tongue piercing, probably a bellybutton piercing)

Chokers, bracelets, necklaces, etc, mostly wears black and purple, black ripped jeans, fishnets, layering, band tees, he's emo and proud of it

Patton

Round frame, soft edges, the shortest side (5'3)

Large

Button nose

Short, curly hair

Not styled, like if someone ran their fingers through their hair and shook it out

Light brown hair

Very bright blue eyes

Lots of freckles

Either big oversized circle glasses, or 'hipster glasses'

Very aesthetically colorful- flips between full kidcore neon rainbows and khaki cargo shorts socks-and-sandals dad

Roman

Like- muscular twink. First look, not muscular, the second he moves 👀, 5'7

Greek nose

Chin length, wavy hair

Styled and VERY smooth, swoops all pretty like, side part

Light red hair

Brown eyes, looks redish in some lighting

Regularly wears crowns, mostly just dresses like he does in Sanders Sides already (I mean, all of them do, but I'm not sure what to add for Roman 😅)

Remus

Mostly round edges, almost uncanny body type. I don't know what that means, no. 5'7

Retractable tentacles

Greek nose

[ERROR], shoulder-length hair,

It WOULD be wavy if he ever BRUSHED IT! -Roman

He has his stupid little intensely styled villain mustache

Dark red hair

Dark green eyes

Rows and rows of teeth. Like a shark.

Either wear what he wears in cannon or like. Transmasc chic. Cargo shorts and a mushroom/frog/shark/whatever themed t-shirt. Also owns a shirt that says PRONHUB (yes, misspelled) in big letters (alternately, PRAWNHUB)

Last but not least...

Janus

Sharp, elegant frame, the tallest side (5'10, says he's 5'11)

2 heads. Sometimes. A snake and mostly human. Snake is really pretty. Think golden cape cobra. From now on, it's the human head/when he's not going 2-headed

Hook nose

Short, straight hair

Immaculately styled, always, despite the hat

Black/dark brown hair

Yellow eyes, slit pupils

Snake teeth!! He has venom!! (Or like a vampire, actually, snake teeth are creepy. I love snakes /gen)

Scales on his sides and the sides of his face

Big snake tattoo on his arm, it's got roses around it

Again, mostly what he already wears, but sometimes he'll wear like, gorgeous floor-length gowns. He is hot, he is bitchy, he is wine aunt.

I need more analogical in the headspace. I don't want AUs, I want my two Little Autistic Guys shoved together in the brainspace because Virgil is having a Bad Time and none of the more 'emotional' sides are available (they were helping Thomas or something), so Logan helps. Or Virgil just SPECIFICALLY wants to be around Logan.

I need more of them being specifically described in the brainspace and looking different from Thomas. I need more of them being mildly upset that they don't look like themselves when they're helping Thomas.

I need more of the darksides and lightsides being basically two weird semi-funtional poly relationships.

I need more of Virgil having been in an unhealthy relationship with one of the Darksides and thinking he got away from them

I need more of Janus actually biting people and having venom.

I need more angst around Virgil feeling like he's a poser who's actually Bad and undeserving of the care given to by the Lightsides

I need more of Virgil not liking the phrases "Darkside" and "Lightside"

I need more of Virgil feeling infantilized by Patton and Patton struggling to get it

I need more long essays written about One Line to read and be convinced by.

(Please recommend fics, artists, tumblr accounts, etc.. I'm begging you.)

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #headcannons #appearance headcannon

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dinosaurs-last-day · 4 years ago

Note

A writing prompt you say? I have many, friend. May I order some Dukeceit, with a side of The power goes out and Janus learns that Remus's freckles glow in the dark? (Some octopi have glowy spots in the dark, which is the inspo for this btw) Feel free to deny the request obviously i'm not gonna force you lol! Hope you get all the asks you could want!

Ofc Nonnie! Sorry that this is a little late!

___________

Date night for Janus and Remus could mean literally anything. Dinner or dancing were common, and robbing a bank together was always an option. (They hadn’t actually robbed a bank together yet, but it was discussed a lot. As Remus liked to say, “There’s just something so romantic about threatening to hurt someone with your boyfriend.”)

That night, Remus had suggested a horror movie that had recently come out and Janus was more than willing to spend the evening curled up on the couch, cuddling his boyfriend. The glow of the tv lit up Remus’ face as Janus played with Remus’ mustache. He liked to twirl it gently and smile when Remus would giggle from the feeling.

Another thing about Remus that Janus loved were his freckles. The little dots splattered all over his face, shoulders, and arms, telling stories of adventures in the sun. Janus liked to trace little shapes with the freckles, almost as if he were playing connect the dots. Just absentmindedly touching Remus, admiring him. Remus didn’t mind, especially when they were watching a movie. Remus would stare at the screen, soaking up every gory detail, and Janus would just admire him.

A scream rang through the house, thankfully coming from the tv. But halfway through the scream, the tv cut out. Janus noticed that the room was now completely dark and he shut his eyes tightly. He would never admit it, but he was afraid of the dark, afraid of what could be in it, and what could hurt him when he couldn’t see. He knew it wasn’t a rational fear, but it was a fear he dealt with regardless. He heard Remus get off the couch, probably to check on the tv.

“I think the power is out Janny,” Remus said, plopping back down next to Janus on the couch. Janus, with his eyes still closed, wrapped himself around Remus’ torso, holding him close. He felt Remus’ fingers run through his hair, felt Remus’ lips meet his forehead.

“You can open your eyes baby, it’s fine.” Janus opened his eyes, expecting to be met with complete darkness. But there was a small hint of light, a faint glow. Janus looked over at Remus and noticed that each and every one of his freckles glowed a light neon green, the only source of light in the house.

Janus touched Remus’ cheek with his hand, running a finger over some of the freckles. “How?”

Remus shrugged. “Some octopi have glow in the dark spots. Since I have a thing for octopi and have taken on some of their more subtle traits, my freckles glow as if I were an octopus.” Janus admired the freckles, his obsession with them growing stronger now that he knew they possessed such a cool and useful skill.

“Well, I don’t think that they are the most adorable thing ever,” Janus muttered, continuing to trace the glowing freckles with his finger.

Remus clicked his tongue. “You’re going soft on me,” he teased. Janus mumbled a half-hearted shut up, but Remus didn’t hear it.

“Well, you may think a couple of freckles are cute, but I think you’re absolutely a catch all on your own. And you don’t even have freckles!” Janus’ face was now a bright shade of red, and an uncomfortably warm temperature from all the blood that was rushing to his cheeks but it was too dark for Remus to notice.

They sat there in the dark, Remus holding Janus, playing with his hair, while Janus was wrapped around Remus, focused on the glowing freckles. Neither one of them knew how much time had passed until the power turned back on, but Janus was very thankful when it did. Logan came down the stairs to make sure that everyone was okay.

“Yeah, thankfully Remus has his glowing freckles,” Janus muttered. Logan’s eyes widened.

“Glowing freckles?” He asked. Remus quickly explained and it within seconds Logan was up in Remus’ personal space, studying the freckles and asking questions. Janus pushed him away.

“Hey, no studying or testing my boyfriend! Get your own glowing boyfriend to be your science project!” He said, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist protectively, although Logan did not seem to notice. Logan went back up the stairs defeatedly, disappointed that he didn’t learn all he wanted from the glowing freckles.

Remus chuckles. “Jealous Jan?” He asked. Janus leaned up and kissed a freckle on the tip of Remus’ nose before planting a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Just protective of my boyfriend, and the freckles that saved me.”

#asdfghjkl; i just can't help but write fluff #janus is soft boi for some reason #remus is pretty soft himself but not as soft as janus #ts remus #ts janus #remus sanders #janus sanders #remus x janus #janus x remus #dukeceit #ts logan #logan sanders #ask #anon #anonymous #thanks for the ask!#remy replies #remy writes #my writing

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thefairytower · 2 years ago

Text

The last year

Virgil sat up and stretched himself. Wings fluttering to shake out any creases

His thoughts drifted to his dream for a moment. An open field. Flying without a care with the most important person in the world by his side… he shook his head. No time for daydreaming.

He had to make his rounds and then tend to the prince. He got up and went through his morning routine. Halting briefly as he picked out some clothes. Usually, he didn’t care much. Going for a simple standard uniform. But the prince had been quite sullen lately. And today, of all days, Virgil wanted to give him a reason to smile. If only briefly.

His mind made up he picked out the double layered purple skirt with intricate silver patterns, the matching leaf top that was a pain to button up on his own but he managed to do so without being bothered too much by his wings. He put on the dark hood with the silver leaf clasp, black pants and his good armor boots. He carefully picked up his captain’s crown, a silver branch that went from temple to temple around the back of his head and his sword. He never ceased to feel the weight of responsibility that these symbols of his calling carried.

He rarely bothered with the crown nowadays. Feeling undeserving of the nobility it implied and lacking an audience that needed reminders of his standing which did not match his 20 years. But he was all dressed up in his ceremonial wear so he might as well go all the way.

The prince loved pretty things and he ‘d gushed about this uniform plenty in the past.

Virgil went down to check on the princes’ caretaker and to get some breakfast.

“Good morning, Patton,” he greeted. Patton looked up from his oven and grinned widely as he whipped his hands on his messy apron.

“Well, don’t you look nice today Virgil!” he exclaimed, his light blue butterfly wings fluttering in excitement as Virgil took some bread and cheese.

“I’d hug you but I wouldn’t dare ruin that fabulous outfit,” he teased.

Virgil allowed a smile but straightened his back. He was still working. He was always working since they came to this forsaken tower.

“Yes, I felt that the occasion called for it. Just one more year,” he said formally.

Patton nodded, a soft longing in his eyes. “I’m sure the princes will be happy with that. The last four years have been pretty hard on them.”

Virgil nodded. “The Duke of the dark forest seems to make do mostly. I’m more worried about his highness our future king,” he admitted. “I fear he takes harder to us being in exile with him than to his own isolation.” Not that the prince would admit to it. He could see it though. Any time anyone gave even the smallest indication of longing for home or even just the grassy field beyond the walls of their tower and the Prince seemed to bow under his guilt over their circumstances. Circumstances that weren’t his fault. It was the dragon witch, his uncle, who had made the threats and his father, the king, who chose to hide his son until his coronation. And their companionship was all by choice. They all volunteered to join the prince, including his brother.

“Well, maybe having a handsome knight like yourself bring him this special birthday pie will cheer him up!” Patton suggested as he uncovered a delicious looking pie and nudged it towards Virgil who chose to ignore the handsome knight comment. “Janus already took the duke’s pie downstairs. I believe the young prince fell asleep in the training room again,” Patton stated with an exasperated but fond sigh.

“I rather he expends his energy in that room than anywhere he can be a hazard to us. I’m sure Master Logan would agree,” he stated as he carefully picked up the pie. Patton nodded. “He and Janus have their hands full teaching those boys,” he admitted.

“Well, some things never change,” Virgil grinned before nodding at Patton in goodbye and making his way up. He could hear the sound of Prince Remus going on about something to Janus downstairs. He didn’t understand what, but the Duke’s voice was unmistakable.

He passed Master Logan’s study. Logan had been the one to take him in as a young troubled kid and given him the education and opportunities he needed to make it where he was today. Patton was nice and kind. But if Virgil had to point at anyone he felt closest to in this tower, it would be Logan.

Not counting the prince, his future king, but that was unfair.

Virgil had been dedicated to his protection and wellbeing since he was twelve. And they’d been as close as a commoner or a guard could hope to be with the heir to the fairy throne.

His loyalty and devotion were unwavering. And he felt like the prince cared for and appreciated him. People gossiped and teased about it. But Virgil didn’t care. And neither did the prince.

“Your highness?” Virgil asked as he knocked on the door carefully.

“Come in,” the prince’s voice called.

Virgil walked in and found his prince sitting on the windowsill looking out over their surroundings. He was wearing a white dress with golden edges, around his waist a red band that had a long red cape attached to the back, standing it would likely end at his ankles. His big, elegant red wings, befitting his status, fluttering slowly in longing for the sky he was looking at.

He wasn’t wearing his golden flower crown, which was an indication to his saddened mood. It broke Virgil’s heart. He was aware that after today, he’d known the prince longer in captivity than he’d known him when he was happy and free.

Virgil straightened his back and spread his wings, he had to put on a strong front, for the Prince’s sake here. No drooping wings, no wavering posture.

Virgil’s wings weren’t as elegant as those of the prince and the duke's, or pretty like Patton’s nor where they practical and modest like Janus’ or Logan’s.

On the streets of the capitol he’d gotten in a lot of trouble for wings shaped like those of a dragon. But at the court, it was a something for which he was to be respected. Still, Virgil had trouble to unlearn the bad things he’d been taught about it. The prince’s uncle was born with the same wing type. But he’d gone down a dark path, leading to his nickname. But at the court no one judged Virgil for the actions of a man he’d never met.

Wingtypes weren’t genetically. They revealed something about your inner self. Or so people believed. Their color their shape. It all supposedly played a part. Anyway, none of that was important right now.

“Patton asked me to bring you something to eat,” he said as he walked to the small table in the room and put down the pie. The prince sighed and finally looked towards Virgil and his eyes widened.

“Virgil… You look stunning,” he said.

Virgil fought down a blush. The prince never bothered with formalities, not when they were kids and by the time he turned sixteen and people started to tell him that he couldn’t be so casual with staff members, his life was threatened and he was sent away for five years where no one could tell him what to do for appearances sake.

“Thank you milord,” Virgil said calmly. “I figured today’s occasion deserved me putting in a little effort. Happy birthday,” he bid.

“Thank you Virgil… Can I make one request for my birthday though? Please?”

Virgil knew he would have a hard time denying his prince anything, but the prince didn’t need, couldn’t be allowed, to know that.

“If it is within my power,” he allowed.

The prince smiled, excitement springing to life in his eyes once again. “It is! Just… Call me by my name? Just for today?” he pleaded.

Virgil felt almost angry. This was not right. Such a humble request could not be the one gift the prince asked of him. It just didn’t make sense! But he didn’t say any of that aloud.

“Well… I suppose that can be arranged… Roman,” he allowed. It felt odd to say his name aloud. He hadn't ever done that, not even when they were kids and he helped him evade tutors.

The prince, Roman, beamed happily. “One more thing?” he asked, looking like he felt he was testing his luck. Virgil nodded, indicating he could continue.

“This pie is too big for me… Have breakfast with me?” he asked hopefully.

Roman always tried to get them in a more casual setting. Virgil almost continuously ept Roman company so long as he didn’t need to make his rounds, which weren’t that extensive in a tower built to house six people and little more that he could not leave.

Normally he insisted on some form of formality but… It was his birthday. And Roman was denied so much already. He could grant him whatever he desired today if it was in his power to give it.

“Alright. But only because Patton’s cooking is irresistible,” he allowed in a slightly teasing tone.

Roman lit up and as they ate, he rambled about all kinds of things and Virgil listened and engaged in the conversation until…

“And then Logan said the floating lights are coming back tonight! Can you believe it? On our birthday! That has to be a good sign!”

Virgil pondered that, though Roman didn’t realize it. He was still rambling on.

The floating lights had worried them the first time they appeared.

But Logan and Janus concluded that they weren’t dangerous. They were a natural part of the magic in this valley. Logan had figured out what caused them to appear, though Virgil never quite understood it.

Roman adored the lights. The first time he’d seen them he’d talked at length about how amazing it would be to fly amongst them.

Virgil didn’t do bad ideas… But now he was entertaining one of his own…

“I need you to talk me out of something,” he pleaded.

Janus looked up from their books in surprise. Virgil had found them in their study during his round of the tower. Roman was in a much better mood when Virgil left his room, though he was clearly still not back to his old self. He hadn’t been for years.

“Whatever do you mean? Isn’t it usually your job to do that?” Janus asked intrigued.

“I know, so please return the favor. Be as petty as you need to. But I need you to tell me not to have a midnight birthday picnic with everyone to watch the floating lights and to let us all stretch our wings,” he rambled.

Janus smirked. “It would make our future king ecstatic though,” they mused.

“That’s not how you are supposed to do it! You are supposed to remind me that there is a threat against his life. That leaving the tower is strictly forbidden by the king. That it is my job to keep us all in. That a taste of freedom might make tomorrow harder on him…”

“You are doing a good job yourself,” Janus pointed out.

“Then why do I still want to tell Patton to get a basket ready?” Virgil demanded.

“Because…” Janus stated slowly, their eyes mischievous but not unkind. “The heir is in your charge. You’d do anything for his safety, it’s your calling. But protecting him is about more than physical wellbeing. You see him wither away and you want to protect him from that too. You want to make him shine again.

It’ll be dark and the lights will likely obscure our presence rather than reveal it. I can go into the details but basically, they outshine us and as long as we don’t fly out above them anyone flying by will likely notice the tower before they notice us.

Tonight might be the safest time to take a little risk,” Janus said.

Virgil groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have counted on you,” he grumbled as he turned to leave.

“Now where are you going?” Janus smiled smugly, knowing full well that Virgil wasn’t going to admit that the sorcerer had told him exactly what he’d been wanting to hear.

“To get a dumb picnic ready!” Virgil growled before slamming the door.

Virgil knocked on the door to Roman’s room. Patton was getting everything ready. Everyone was alerted of the plan. Except for the one he was doing this for.

That came now.

The door swung open, Roman was now wearing his crown.

Virgil wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that simply having breakfast with him and acting more like equals had put him in that much of a better mood.

The fatigue and sadness hadn’t completely left his face. Hopefully this news would do the trick.

“Virgil you’re back!” he grinned.

“I was literally down the hall and I was gone for maybe half an hour,” he pointed out.

Roman chuckled. “Yes, but between having you call me by my name and suckering you into having breakfast with me, I wasn’t sure if you’d had your fill of my company for the day,” he joked. At least, Virgil hoped he was joking.

“I wouldn’t do that to you on your birthday. Speaking of which…” he took a deep breath.

“We’ll be having a midnight picnic to watch the lights. So you might want to take a nap so you can be well rested for our outing,” he said formally.

Roman clapped his hands and jumped several fairy feet in the air, making a spin and giggling.

“Oh wonderful yes! Oh! I’ll make some space on the floor then! I have some nice blankets we can use and…”

“Not in here Roman”, Virgil said, anticipating the moment Roman would realize what he meant.

Roman lowered himself to the ground.

“But… My room has the best view and enough room. Remus’ might have a good view too, but it is a mess.”

“Not in here,” Virgil repeated.

Roman’s frown persisted for a bit moment and then slowly it started to give way to incredulous awe.

“You… You can’t mean…”

“There are conditions,” Virgil warned. “We can’t fly too high and the moment I think someone might be coming we head inside right away. We can’t be too loud either. Understood?”

Roman gasped teary eyed holding his hands in front of his face and nodded.

“Yes, yes, I promise Virgil!” he said earnestly.

Virgil nodded. “Good, in that case. We still have a few hours before sunset. You think you can try to focus on your swordplay practice?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded again and followed him to the training room.

Hours later, the sun had set and Virgil was standing in front of the door to the outside. The door only he could open. The one he was supposed to keep closed until it was time to get Roman to his coronation and no moment sooner.

But if he didn’t do this now, then Roman would lose his light by the time he was sat on the throne.

He took a deep breath and broke the seal he’d put in on the order of the king four years ago.

It gave way almost too easy. But Virgil knew that no one but him would be able to do this.

The door opened and Virgil was knocked to the side into Logan and Patton.

Duke Remus had rushed outside and was doing laps already.

“Well that is a complete surprise,” Janus drawled bemused as they walked after the duke their staff in hand.

“Oh goodness. This is so exciting!” Patton giggled as he walked on with Logan, his favorite dress flowing in the late-night breeze.

Virgil sighed. No turning back. He looked back and found Roman looking at the outside world with wide eyes, a little hesitant.

“Roman?” he asked confused. He’d imagined the young prince would’ve been right behind his brother.

Roman smiled apologetically. “It seems I’m more nervous about going out there than I thought I’d be,” he admitted quietly.

Virgil nodded, he could understand that. “I’ll be right at your side the whole time. No one is getting past me,” he promised. If it went wrong today, he would give the others the ability to get to the tower. Logan had a received a master key. He could lock the door again and keep it that way until after the deadline. He didn’t tell Roman this though. He would object.

Roman nodded. “Yeah… Yeah you are right,” he smiled and walked outside alongside Virgil.

The second Roman’s feet hit the grass he froze. He lifted his head closed his eyes and took in the feeling of grass tickling the edges of his feet. Virgil had insisted the princes at least wore sandals.

Virgil watched as a smile slowly spread across Roman’s face. His wings spread out and slowly he lifted from the ground. Just when Virgil contemplated following him up, Roman gave a few powerful beats of his wings and rose fast.

In a panic Virgil chased after him. He couldn’t lose sight of him.

The wind was rushing across his skin, welcoming him like an old friend, but he had no time to greet him in return.

Suddenly Roman came to a stop and without warning he made a dive, laughing in ecstasy.

Virgil dove after him, recalling the pull of gravity and effortlessly bending his wings to adjust his fall.

Both came to a halt near the ground, a stone’s throw away from where Patton and Logan were setting up the picnic.

“That was amazing! I’d forgotten how good that feels!” Roman exclaimed in a whisper shout.

Virgil appreciated his effort to adhere to the rules he’d made.

“Glad you like your present,” he smiled, his annoyance at the scare already forgotten.

Roman turned and nodded eagerly. He was about to say something, but master Logan interrupted.

“It is time,” he announced.

Remus skidded to a stop nearby and Janus apparrated in their cluster. And a moment later it was like small orbs of light grew from the earth and floated up.

The group gasped in collective awe.

“Virgil… Can we?” Roman asked after a few minutes.

Virgil nodded. The lights would stay all night. They could have a quick fly around the field before eating.

Roman grinned. “Race ya!” he exclaimed as he took of. Virgil chuckled. Definitely worth it.

“Virgil look!” Roman exclaimed suddenly. Virgil followed his gaze and saw a light seemed stuck in the branches of a nearby tree. Which came as a surprise. Getting stuck implied being solid. And Virgil was fairly sure even Logan didn’t think the lights had a body to get stuck with.

It was very high up for any creature. Especially one the size of a toadstool. And Roman had never gone so high. But Virgil had.

Virgil nodded. “I see it, stay here,” he instructed as he flew up. The closer he got the clearer it was that the light was struggling to get away.

“Calm down okay? I'm here,” he assured the light before pushing the branches to the side to allow the light some space to move. When it got loose if spun around him and, amazingly, shifted hues. Going through the whole rainbow before settling on Virgil's purple.

“Cool,” Virgil whispered. He turned to look at Roman and see if he was just as blown away by this as him. But then he saw Roman… talking? To a red light.

Not feeling comfortable with being left out of that conversation, Virgil let himself freefall as far as he could and landed by Roman's side.

To his relief, Roman was beaming.

“Virgil! Meet her majesty, queen of the wishing lights! She thanks you for saving one of her young charges.”

Virgil blinked. Tonight just got way more complicated than he'd planned for.

“ uh… welcome?” he said hesitantly.

The queen light did the rainbow thing before settling on purple too.

“Greetings knight Virgil. I look forward to knowing you,” she spoke seemingly in his head.

Before he could recover from that, a bunch of other lights swarmed him, Roman and the others who'd come to join them. No words in this time. Just burning curiosity.

“Oh boy,” Virgil sighed.

#sanders sides #ts sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #prinxiety #ask blog #ask the fairies #fairytower

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