#sander sides g/t

[hootnhoney]

Recycling an old scenery piece I made a while ago and making it sanders sides related

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

Theory: we know that in “dealing with intrusive thoughts” Remus showed everyone that he eats deodorant right? BUT BUT BUT it was confirmed that VIRGIL used to be a dark side too right? But Virgil acts sort of surprised when Remus said he ate deodorant meaning that it has to be a habit that Remus picked up AFTER Virgil left. Is it just me or does it sort of give off the vibe of someone drinking Alcohol when an ex or something leaves because they’re sad? It could imply that Remus felt bad when Virgil left so he began eating deodorant to cope with it. Like someone over eating or “smoking” to cope with something (But Remus does it with deodorant cuz he’s Remus Yk?)

Just something I noticed lol

Okay I see you and I hear you B U T what if Vee was pretending not to know due to making it seem like he was never close to Ree in front of Character!Thomas to not raise suspicion? Cause why would manz need to glance around in a way like "Yeah guys I don't know what the fuck he's on about normal people don't do that" y'know?

[delimeful]

in sickness and in health (8)

warnings: captivity, arguing, remus talking about remus things, panic, gratuitous amount of puns, lmk if i missed any

-

“What’s going on?”

The impromptu staredown between all three humans was interrupted by Roman hurriedly leaning obnoxiously far over the counter, bodily blocking Patton’s view of the two borrowers.

“Patton!” he blurted, clearly aiming for a casual air and instead landing somewhere in the realm of ‘stewing in blatant panic and guilt’. “Hello there, what an unexpected and lovely surprise to see you here, in… the kitchen of your own home.”

Next to him, Virgil heard the small, distinct thwap of his fellow borrower’s palm meeting their face.

“…What’s going on?” Patton repeated, sounding far more awake this time.

“Extremely normal, non-fairy-related things,” Roman answered, visibly sweating.

“Extremely bloody Dionysian orgies,” Remus said at the same time, considerably louder.

Virgil could see just enough of Patton’s expression to watch the way it crinkled in a sort of morose confusion.

“In the kitchen?” he asked, voice pained, as though that was his main problem with the suggestion.

“If there aren’t any knives involved, can any orgy really be called Dionysian?” Remus replied in a faux-wise tone, lifting his arm to make a deeply inappropriate gesture in accompaniment with his words. This technically cleared the way back to the wall, but as it turned out, only for a moment.

Before either of them could get too hopeful about any chance of escape, Remus ended the gesture by quickly clapping his hands over the both of them in a makeshift dome shape.

Next to him, the other borrower only flinched a bit, but Virgil couldn’t help the outright squeak he made at the sudden limbs dropping down over them.

There was another pause from the humans above them, this one distinctly more harried.

“Um, guys?” Patton’s voice had gone from confused to concerned. “What was—?”

“Broken whoopee cushion,” Remus insisted. “Filled it with mayonnaise, you know how it goes.”

“He sneezed!” Roman added, his voice sliding up a few pitches. “Gesundheit, Remus! Totally nothing strange about that— Padre, wait!”

There were big steps drawing closer, now, and Remus’s hands cinched in a little tighter around the two of them. They were forced to huddle even closer together, and the other borrower’s bony elbow collided with his side in a way he wasn’t convinced was accidental.

He shot them a glare, which they returned with an expression that was equal parts indignant and frantic. After a second, they forced a barely-there whisper through grit teeth. “It’s your human. Will he hurt us?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Virgil hissed back, just as quiet. “I didn’t ever get caught before you showed up!”

Not while the human was conscious enough to remember it, anyhow.

The other borrower’s eyes narrowed into slits, reminding Virgil that he probably shouldn’t be antagonizing the guy that already proved themself willing to try and murder him once. Before they could respond, though, the conversation over their heads continued.

“Guys,” Patton said, sounding stern. “What have we said about wrangling critters in my home?”

“That it was a firmly banned activity after the Great Frog Croak-tastrophe?” Roman guessed sheepishly. “And, y’know, that was certainly a fair and just ruling for that situation, however—!”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it,” Patton replied, unwavering. Virgil could practically envision the way his human was standing from his tone alone: hands on his hips, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Frog or not, I’m sure whatever you two caught will be much hoppier once they’re released safely outside, right Remus?”

“Eh, you might not feel the same after you see them, Pattycakes,” Remus warned. “I know I’m usually the harbinger of pests, wrangler of rats, champion of centipedes, but not even I know what to do about these guys.”

There was the shuffle of clothing, like Patton was shifting in place, and he sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together, huh?”

There was a moment of hesitation where Virgil assumed the twins were exchanging a wordless meaningful look, as they so often did, and then the distinct slide of glass across a countertop.

The moment the hands around them twitched, Virgil shifted into a crouched position, drawing his legs under him and preparing to bolt the moment there was space, even if it was probably totally futile. Next to him, he could feel the other borrower doing much the same.

Rather than lift off of them, however, the hands shifted to pinch even closer together, forming the shape of a spade, like a pair of nut shells that had been glued back together at the edges, leaving a hollow space inside. The two of them were forced to scramble upwards into the hold or get limbs stuck in between the sides of Remus’s palms as he scooped them up off the counter completely.

Virgil’s stomach dropped at the upwards movement, completely out of his control, and he reached out and latched onto the side of the other borrower’s shirt with a white-knuckled grip. They were still at least a little concussed, and Virgil wasn’t letting them get separated now, not when he’d already gotten himself into the most terrifying situation in his life saving them. Wherever they were going, they’d at least be stuck in it together.

To his surprise, the other borrower gripped him right back.

After only a few seconds, they were lowered and deposited onto a familiar smooth surface. Virgil grit his teeth at the feeling, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. He’d just gotten out of this stupid glass pitcher!

He didn’t get much time to seethe indignantly, however, because the moment Remus’s hands pulled away, there were much bigger problems to face.

Three of them, to be precise.

Heart in his throat, Virgil slowly lifted his head to look up at the face of his human, warped through the curve of the glass.

With a confused furrow to his brow, Patton moved to take a step closer, and then stopped short as the sight before him properly registered. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening with surprise. “Oh my!”

“I toad you so,” Remus interjected unhelpfully.

Roman cuffed his shoulder, and Remus immediately jabbed two fingers into Roman’s side in retaliation. It was only a firm warning look from Patton that kept them from devolving into another slap fight during the most terrifying moment of Virgil’s life.

Virgil shifted to stand, shuffling back until he didn’t have to crane his neck so painfully to make eye contact. Humans were so big, and it had never been more evident than it was now, staring up at giants.

Staring up at Patton. He was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare that had gone exactly like this. Well, minus the concussed would-be assassin. And the frog puns.

Patton, for his part, had developed a genuinely distressed twist to his features as he took in the sight of the two of them. After a moment of wavering, his gaze settled firmly on Virgil, sending a prickling sense of alarm up his spine.

“Hello again,” said Patton, smiling at him.

Virgil froze. The borrower behind him froze. Even the twins froze for a moment, before their heads both snapped around to stare at Patton with eerie synchronization.

“You know them?!” two voices asked, in two very different tones.

Virgil felt dread drop into his gut like a stone down a sewer grate. There was no way.

“I know one of them,” Patton answered, unperturbed by everyone’s shock. “That’s the little guy who helped take care of me while I was sick!”

He lifted a hand in demonstration and wiggled his fingers, the healing burns on them still visibly shiny.

The twins gaped. “He what?”

Behind him, in a far more bewildered tone, the other borrower echoed them: “You what?”

“You shut up,” Virgil muttered sourly without turning to look at them. His heart was practically shaking in his ribcage, knowing that the human had remembered all along, that Patton had returned home well-aware of the intruder in his walls.

The realization felt chilling, like a thimble of icy water had been dumped down his shirt. Patton hadn’t acted strange at all, hadn’t cast any speculative glances at the walls or scanned any shelves for undersized intruders. The twins and their ghost-hunting equipment clearly hadn’t known the truth, so why would Patton? Virgil hadn’t even suspected.

Who knew what would have happened after Roman and Remus left, and it was only the two of them, with Virgil blissfully unaware of the danger he was in?

Well. Caught like this, he supposed he was going to find out soon.

Patton’s smile faded, carefully watching the way Virgil’s chest was visibly shuddering with too-shallow breaths.

“You thought I froggot, huh?” he said, looking inexplicably sad. “I thought about it while I was in the hospital, and I kinda figured we’re really not supposed to know about you guys. That means it was pretty darn brave of you to try and help me anyways.”

Virgil swallowed, fear sticking in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t feel brave.

The other borrower stepped up to be at his side, ignoring Virgil’s reflexive attempt to shoulder them back behind him.

“I suppose the saying is true, then.” They paused, narrowing their eyes in a silent challenge. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The encompassing flourish they made was a little wobbly, as though their balance was still off, but it got the point across: Patton had recovered from his illness, and they were stuck in a pitcher on his counter.

Virgil’s incredulity at the other borrower was enough to snap him out of the worst of his frozen terror, his head whipping to the side to stare at them.

They were insane. They had to be, using such sharp words and an even sharper tone with a human. This was just about the worst time to instigate an argument. The two of them were stuck in a pitcher on his counter!

Unsurprisingly, neither of the twins looked particularly happy with the accusatory turn the conversation had taken. Patton had been their friend for a long time. They had always jumped at the opportunity to defend him from harm in the past, and Virgil doubted that would change now.

For all their tomfoolery, the two of them could be downright vicious when they were angry. If they were willing to tear fellow humans a new one for messing with Patton, it was gruesome to imagine what they’d do to a pair of borrowers. They’d already been terrifying enough when they’d only been curious about him.

Before either of them could begin to speak, however, Patton nodded once, almost to himself, and pivoted to face his friends.

“Howsabout you two get started on cleaning up the living room so we can settle down and get some proper sleep?” he asked, the request firm enough that it was clearly more of an instruction than a suggestion.

Both twins started protesting immediately, looking extremely put out at the idea of abandoning Patton with their exciting new find. They were talking over each other, the words tangling and becoming an indecipherable mess by the time they reached Virgil, but he was fairly certain he heard phrases like “—but I’ll only lie awake haunted by fairy law and order,” and, “—you can’t keep me away from my new pyromaniac bestie!” in the mix.

“Mhmm, yup, we can discuss all of that later,” Patton replied stoutly, ushering the two of them towards the entrance to the kitchen with insistent sweeping gestures, like a shepherd with his herd. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk over breakfast in the morning, but it’s getting late, so hop to it!”

“We’re being banished with frog puns! This is an amphibian atrocity,” Roman bemoaned.

“Froggin’ unbelievable,” Remus agreed. 

However, even with all their complaints, they seemed to understand that Patton wasn’t budging this time, and reluctantly allowed themselves to be shooed out of the kitchen like the world’s noisiest sheep.

At Virgil’s shoulder, the other borrower took the opportunity to lean in while the humans were across the room.

“You ‘didn’t ever get caught,’ hmm?” they asked, still far too smug considering the situation they were in.

A muscle in Virgil’s eye twitched. Despite everything, he wasted a moment considering the merits of trying to inflict another head injury on his fellow captive. They’d been a lot more tolerable with the beginnings of a concussion.

“Do you want to go back to trying to stab each other?” he snapped instead, stepping pointedly away even as he made the thinly-veiled threat. “Because it seems like you want to go back to trying to stab each other.”

“Oh, I’m so terrified,” they replied drolly, crossing their arms. “Won’t someone save me from the horrible Monoxide assassin and his entirely genuine threats?”

Virgil stared at them for a moment, disbelieving. “You know, I think I actually liked you better when you were trying to murder me in cold blood.”

“Don’t lose hope. Maybe I’ll try again later,” they retorted with a dangerous glint in their eye, and then they were both falling silent as Patton approached once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil caught the contemplative frown that flashed over the other borrower’s face, the only glimpse of their consternation at facing down a human. They may have had plans aplenty to deal with the twins, but Patton was clearly more of an unknown to them.

…Virgil knew Patton. He’d spent enough time watching the human to get attached, grown familiar enough with Patton’s life to cheer on his efforts and fret over his disappointments. He should be able to find the right words to get them out of this, convince his human the way the other borrower had effortlessly fooled Roman, but… he couldn’t.

It was impossible to think up a strategy for this situation. How could he possibly reconcile Patton, the guy who helped organize weekly PTA bake sales and volunteered to look after kittens he was allergic to and cried when he saw roadkill, with a human who knew, who would keep them trapped, who needed to be pleaded with for their release?

How was he supposed to bargain with a monster if he couldn’t even accept that the monster existed?

“I’m sorry if the twins frightened you,” Patton said, voice lowered to a softer volume. “They tend to be very exuberant, but they don’t mean any harm.”

The other borrower looked as though they were on the brink of scoffing at the very idea that they couldn’t handle Roman and Remus, a defensive slant to their shoulders.

“Why?” The word tumbled from Virgil’s mouth without his permission, his shoulders hunching under the undivided focus of Patton’s gaze.

“Why what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly like a confused dog.

“If you knew,” Virgil forced out, fingernails digging into his palms, “why didn’t you tell them? Or— or look for me?”

Understanding settled onto Patton’s expression, and he hummed thoughtfully, as though considering how to phrase his answer.

“If you wanted to be seen, you would have come out and said hi,” he finally said, simply. “You saved my life by calling for help. If you wanted to stay a secret, the least I could do is make sure to keep that secret safe.”

Virgil blinked up at him, trying to force the words into a configuration that made sense. Humans didn’t just let mysteries exist, especially not ones that were so easy to grab ahold of.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not awfully curious about you,” Patton continued, and his hand was reaching out for the handle of the pitcher and surely, this was the moment that it all came crashing down—, “but you can’t force a friendship. Especially not like this!”

Slowly, in gentle increments, the pitcher was shifted to lay on its side, the open end facing away from Patton. It was practically a straight shot to the closest wall entrance, their freedom waiting where the back of the counter met the kitchen wall.

They’d been prepared to make a break for it at the earliest opportunity before, but now, with escape dangled in front of them, both borrowers hesitated. Virgil exchanged a dumbfounded look with the other borrower, trying to stomp down the insane hope bubbling in the back of his mind.

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me!” Patton finished, making sure the glass was stable and settled before releasing it and stepping back. “Otherwise, my lips are sealed— and I’ll make sure Roman and Remus keep the secret, too.”

He made a zipping motion over his mouth, eyes crinkled with amusement at the edges, and then turned and walked out of the kitchen without a single glance back.

Virgil hadn’t uttered a single plea, and yet, the path back to the walls was right there. He looped the other borrower’s arm over his shoulder and led them, step by faltering step, across the counter, even scooping his bag up as he went. Nobody came rushing in, nobody stopped them from taking those last few steps into the safety of the walls.

He’d expected to face a monster, and instead he’d been offered kindness, unasked for and freely given.

They were both quiet as they shuffled further into the familiar cramped space, as though a single sound would shatter the illusion of this impossible release. The other borrower pulled away after a moment, their pain of their concussion likely more manageable in the dark. The silence stretched, relief and exhaustion weighing on them in equal measure.

Virgil yawned despite himself, absently wondering if they were going to continue that semi-murderous argument about cults and who wronged who, and if the other borrower would be willing to reschedule it to sometime after they’d slept.

Ahead of them, a third figure stepped out of the shadows, quickly looking them over as though checking that everyone was still intact. Oddly enough, they sort of smelled like gunpowder.

“Hm. That certainly didn’t go according to plan,” they said bluntly, the oversized pack on their back jingling slightly as they stepped forward. “Still, we all survived, so I suppose introductions are in order.”

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

Dwindling Creativity

Thomas groaned, putting his head in his hands. He’d been brainstorming and writing and editing and erasing and rewriting and researching and writing again.

“I feel like I’ve used up all the creativity I have,” Thomas grumbled, shoving aside his laptop.

This pause, reluctant as it was, was instigated by Janus. Patton took over from there, leading Thomas to flop on the couch with reruns of the Office to give his mind a chance to rest.

- - -

Roman did not stop working when Thomas did. This was Important to Thomas, and Roman had to get it right.

Thomas’s statement about using up his creativity was very nearly correct. As they had worked, Roman had dwindled away gradually, until now the quill he was holding was nearly as tall as he was. He had to hold it in a two-handed grip, kneeling on the parchment and balancing the unwieldy feather against his shoulder. At least he had a magic quill that didn’t run out of ink, so he didn’t have to keep getting up and down to re-dip it.

He ignored the click as the door to his room opened, but moments later the quill was snatched out of his grasp.

“Hey! Give that back, you- you ruffian!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Ruffian? I would’ve expected a more… creative insult.”

Roman glared at him, more tired and grumpy than truly angry. “Well—! Well…” his mind went blank.

Deceit let him flounder for a retort, twirling the quill in his gloved fingers.

All at once, his inability to come up with a properly applicable insult, a good rhyme, even a solid sentence, slammed into Roman. He crumpled onto the desk. “Just leave me alone, I’m useless.”

Deceit sat down in Roman’s chair. Roman wasn’t looking at him, and was surprised to be lifted by the back of his shirt. He let out a squeak, then decided he was too tired to flail or protest, and merely went limp.

“Useless?” Deceit drawled, his voice dripping with something like sympathy. Knowing him though, it could well be anything, or nothing. “My dear prince, you and I both know that’s far from the truth.”

He draped Roman over his other hand, resting on the table. Roman was laying on his stomach, across Deceit’s palm, his arms flopped over his pointer finger.

“I am useless.” Roman asserted. “I can’t even make a song. I’m supposed to be great at songs!”

Deceit stroked the feather over Roman’s back, the smooth, gentle pressure a pleasant sensation. “Or perhaps, you’re holding yourself to too high a standard considering the circumstances.”

Roman’s muscles loosened further as the feather continued stroking over his shirt. “It’s for Thomas’s mother’s birthday, if I can’t make something perfect for this, when else could it matter?”

“I’m sure you will make something perfect,” Deceit replied. “But it may take more time. Time which we have, the birthday is in three weeks.”

Roman dropped his head onto Deceit’s glove. It was cool, rather than warm as he might have expected a hand to be. The feather traced patterns over his shirt, almost like a back rub, melting away his protests.

“You need rest now. Distraction, to get your mind off of the song and give you time to return to your full strength.”

As Deceit said the word Distraction, the edge of the feather brushed over a small strip on skin on Roman’s side, where his shirt had ridden up. Tingles spread from that spot, making him shiver. It felt nice, nearly tickly.

Roman shifted to dispel the tingles, inconspicuously doing so in a way that made his shirt ride up slightly higher.

For a few moments, Deceit must not have noticed, still stroking the feather over his shirt, but then the tip of the feather was drawn across his lower back, crossing from his shirt to his bare skin. Roman muffled a small giggle, enjoying as tingly sensations ran over him again.

Deceit was saying something else, but Roman was becoming lost in the moment, relishing the soft, gentle strokes and the occasional sparks of tickles.

At some point, he had relaxed so thoroughly as to forget he was hiding his giggles, and let one fully slip out.

“Oh, so I have a ticklish little prince?” Deceit said fondly, smiling down at him with a glint in his eyes.

Roman’s first impulse was to protest, especially as Deceit was sure to grow condescendingly teasing, but his enjoyment of his situation battled that impulse, leaving him speechless and blushing.

His internal battle was interrupted by the feather slipping up the back of his shirt, wiggling over his whole back. Roman fell into giggles, kicking his feet gently. The stiff quill feather wasn’t the most effective tool for causing tickles at his current size, but his embarrassment had made him more sensitive than usual.

“Awwww,” Deceit cooed. “Enjoying yourself?”

Roman didn’t respond other than to blush a bit pinker, though he made no move to block the feather.

Deceit twirled the feather. The strange sensation of the spinning feather under his shirt startled a laugh out of Roman.

“It seems I’ve found quite a good distraction, haven’t I?” Deceit said smugly. “Take all your thoughts away and leave only giggles~”

Roman rolled over, trapping the feather underneath his back as he giggled. Deceit easily pulled it free and teased it over Roman’s front. Here his shirt was better covering him, but the feather coming at him, fluttering at his sides or his stomach or neck, and constantly changing spots had him caught in giggles. He batted at the feather playfully when it came within reach of his hands. Indeed, all his previous difficult thoughts had fled.

“A happy little darling,” Deceit murmured, his voice overwhelmingly fond.

Roman was sure his face was still pink, but he was losing the embarrassment, caught up in the fun and the non-judgemental affection. He shucked his shirt off, clicking his fingers to change the quill in Deceit’s hand to a longer feather with droopy, dangly vanes.

Deceit shook the feather over Roman, the little tips flickering over his skin. Roman curled up into a giggly ball, rolling back and forth in Deceit’s hand. So many little tickly points all over him. It was like being out in a summer rain, if every drop left tingles in its wake.

Roman soaked in the attention, the sensations, the love. His body filled with warmth and joy, releasing the excess with every laugh. His giggles were infectious, and Deceit chuckled at the adorable sight in his hand.

When Roman got breathless, he grabbed at the trailing ends of the feather to stop them. Deceit obligingly switched tactics to long slow strokes of the feather up and down over Roman. It was hardly tickly at all, returning to a relaxing massage-like experience, but Roman couldn’t seem to fully stop the remaining giggles.

Slowly, gradually, he melted into Deceit’s palm. After such a height of joy, tiredness draped over him like a blanket. His eyes slipped closed, and the giggles came further and further apart.

Roman didn’t notice the ever so gradual shift of the feather into a miniature fringed blanket. He barely noticed when it stopped moving and instead tucked around him. And by the time Deceit gently transferred him into his bed he was sound asleep.

[fandombead]

Just a little Logicality 💙🩵

[icycove]

Borrowers Patton and Virgil visiting their human friends! They found Logan first~ Logan’s pleased to see them again

They’re just little stick guys

Original version under the cut!!

Time taken: 2.7 hours

The top one is the experimental version where I added more color and a background! I wanted to add hair but after 41 frames I decided I’d get em next time 😆😂😃 here’s the original ‘blank’ one

Virgil didn’t want Patt going to visit the humans again alone…he’s nervous but hey it’s telling he let them go again at all. They’re growing on him, me thinks~

[piliiiiiconfusionf]

REMUS!! this was part of a gift for @icycove on her birthday I wouldn't have remembered to colour if she didn't send me the Zoom in 🤣 thank you for that again eheh

Hope you like!

[ashs-random-writing]

House of oddities

Chapter 1

Ao3

—

Patton, a very optimistic borrower, traveled over a day’s journey that led him to this house. It was pretty far from other ones. It seemed normal enough, even if his new human was very loud, and liked to talk to themself. He didn’t mind. There was more than enough supplies here. Besides, he wasn’t too excited at the idea of making another long journey.

Two local ghosts start keeping a secret from their living friend.

—

Appearance wise, ghosts take on features that represent how they died. Janus died by a snake bite, and has snake scales over the side of the bite. Virgil, though I’m not telling you his cause of death just yet, has a whispy tail instead of legs.

I hope you enjoy this !!

Something was going on with his human, Patton noted. His human seemed more excited than usual, which normally would make Patton happy. However, as this was a new human, he wasn’t too sure what to expect.

Even the most optimistic borrower would be wary. It could be anything, from a vacation (bad for borrowers as it meant heavy rationing) or a ‘pay rise’ (great- human got more things that could be borrowed).

Of course, those weren’t the only options. As much as Patton loved the idea of pets, he knew that he would have to move if his human had gotten one. Well, depending on the pet. Dogs and cats, as cute as they were, were vicious creatures when faced with a borrower. That could also be an option.

He didn’t want to move only two weeks after finding the perfect walls. He sincerely hoped that whatever had caused his human to be so happy was something good.

He watched his human pace around giddily, like they had just won a giant prize. Perhaps they had. He couldn’t help but smile, despite his hesitation as to what could cause this infectious mood.

His human talked to themself a lot. Patton was sure he’d hear about the source of excitement eventually

He waited for his human to go to sleep before he gathered food supplies. It was routine borrowing for him, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy about something. The human was still sleeping, he could tell that much, so he didn’t know what was causing this unease

He had been feeling similarly since he’d moved in. It was a different kind of unease than when he was at his last house. That unease was feeling like he was going to be seen, this felt like being watched. Like any borrower would feel, Patton felt very off about this whole thing.

He had checked about a thousand times that there were no cameras, before he had ever even left the walls. He should never have been feeling eyes on him.

He shivered. He didn’t know whether it was the fact that he could still feel someone watching him, or the coldness that seemed to radiate from different parts of the house.

He put all his food in his bag, and started running towards his entrance. This house made him feel more exposed than other houses did. He didn’t understand.

His human was still sleeping, he checked after putting away his supplies. He chalked up this unease to the fact that this was still a new house.

There was nothing wrong. He smiled. He sometimes felt the eyes on him when he was in his home in the walls, which was how he knew he was imagining things. There was only him in the walls. There was nothing else.

No sign of any other life in there, not even a single web (thank whatever was out there that was looking out for him) or rats nests anywhere in the walls. The only living things in the house were him, and his human, and occasionally his human’s friends.

They were loud. Patton didn’t like loud noises, but he liked seeing people happy. He organised his supplies and made sure his nest had enough fabrics. Winter was closing in, he would need more.

The fabric was in his human’s bedroom. They were unlikely to wake up whilst he was borrowing. He quickly grabbed the scraps he needed and ran back to his home.

He was tired. He had borrowed a lot today; all that climbing was tiring. He wrapped up as warmly as he could and closed his eyes. The walls were cold, but he was used to it.

If he felt eyes on him as he fell asleep, he ignored them. He woke up to the sound of his human talking. His human was loud. He took a look at the clock outside the wall.

He’d only been sleeping for a few hours, which was probably why he felt so tired. He yawned, but he knew his human would keep being loud, so he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He didn’t mind. His human would go to work, and then Patton would have the quiet, empty house to himself.

He wished there was another borrower nearby. Maybe he wouldn’t be so tired if he could split responsibility between him and a friend. Maybe he’d be less likely to watch the human so constantly.

He took to wandering whilst he waited for his human to leave. Having been a borrower since birth, he was well aware of the challenges and limitations of his life.

He just wished he could live somewhere where he could control the heating and where he could talk to people. He was always optimistic, however.

He’d probably find enough fabric to make himself a warmer outfit and help make his nest a little warmer.

His human had a ton of scrap fabrics lying around

His human was talking to themself. They always acted as though there was someone else there, even when there wasn’t.

This wasn’t the only human who he’d seen do the same. Humans loved giving into their imaginations and talking to themselves. Patton had the urge sometimes, but there was obviously the chance of being discovered if he gave in to the impulse.

He didn’t dwell on the human’s actions, and just focused on keeping himself busy with walking to prevent himself from crying. He was so tired. His human was getting ready to leave. He walked back home.

The sound of a door made it known that he was able to sleep again now, even though the eyes on him came back as he got back home. He wrapped up as best as he could and settled back in his nest.

He smiled, though he felt watched.

He fell asleep for another few hours.

—

Virgil was used to being bored; he was a ghost, there wasn’t much opportunity for him to talk to anyone except the one other ghost of the house, Janus, but they weren’t on the best terms with each other. Not for the past year, anyway.

The past few months had introduced two new living people into his home; Roman, who for some inexplicable reason could see him and Janus, and the newest addition to the house; the tiny person.

They lived in the walls, and scavenged for food or supplies. Virgil watched them a lot. The things they did were dangerous, what would’ve been a mild fall for Virgil would be a fall from tens of feet high for them, and still they climbed it close to daily.

Virgil had never seen anyone like them before. He could tell that they were jumpy, and they didn’t like the idea of people knowing they existed. Virgil never mentioned their existence to the living of the house.

He knew that Janus knew they were there as well. He’d caught Janus watching them more than a few times, but, with as skilled as Virgil and Janus were at avoiding each other, one of them would quickly leave the room to go back to their own.

Perhaps a little bit of hissing between them as the other left, but that was private business. Roman had since stopped trying to make them friends.

Virgil floated around the house, waiting for Roman to wake up. The little guy was sleeping.

Virgil couldn’t feel the cold, but he noticed the shivering and the extra fabric the little guy had been taking. He needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up. Someone that small was bound the feel the cold a lot more than someone human-sized.

Virgil heard when Roman woke up, because, what seemed like immediately, he heard Janus talking to him.

He scowled. Janus just had to ruin everything, didn’t he? He crossed his arms. Did they have to be so loud? He checked on the tiny scavenger

They were sat up, rubbing their eyes with their clearly makeshift glasses still next to their little nest. He frowned, face still through the wall.

Poor thing. Everything must be louder to them. Virgil took his head out of the wall tunnels and started to wait for Janus and Roman to stop talking, so he could talk about his (undoubtedly more important) problem to the person who could help.

Janus talked to Roman the entire time, until the human had left the house. Virgil’s scowl deepened.

He flew over to Janus

“What if I had wanted to talk to him?”

“I’d have no way of knowing that, dearest friend, because you don’t ever talk to me,” he said, scales shifting with Janus’s grin

“Well, my thing was important, and you’ve ruined it,” he hissed out, starting to float away

“Aw, important, was it? Needed another song added to the playlist he made for you? Or, perhaps your little nightlights ran out of battery?” Janus’s mocking voice echoed in his ears, and hell if he wasn’t able to push all of Virgil’s buttons. He wanted to slap that mocking pout straight off of his face

“First of all, they’re fairy lights, not nightlights, but I suppose that, being the baby you are, you’ve probably only ever heard of a nightlight. Second, my thing was actually important. I needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up,”

Janus raised his eyebrow

“Oh, my. I didn’t know that you had suddenly developed an aversion to the cold, that, might I remind you, you can’t feel ,”

“It’s not for me, you-” he took a deep breath that was entirely useless, “It’s for the little guy in the walls and, not that I expect you to care, considering you care for nothing but yourself, but they’ve been shivering non stop lately,”

Janus’s face had a brief moment where the mask fell, before coming back, and he looked down at his nails, which were covered by his gloves

“It’s too bad that you’d never be able to convince Roman. You wouldn’t be able to convince someone that ghosts were real, even if they were looking right at you,”

Virgil glared, clenching his fist

“Well, you do it then, if you’re so good at being convincing,” he snarled out, only for Janus to smile

“Gladly, thank you kindly for the offer,”

Virgil left with clenched fists and the thought that if he could, he’d’ve slammed the door shut.

He hated Janus so bad, he might as well have been in Hell rather than his house.

He floated down to the basement, his room, the only room in the house that Janus could not follow. Janus had never seen the basement as part of the house, and therefore when he died, he was restricted from it.

When Virgil had lived there, he’d chosen the basement to be his bedroom, so, when he died, he was able to go through there and the rest of the house.

Virgil floated above his bed and listened to the playlist that was constantly on loop in his room. He would actually need more songs on it, but he would never admit that in front of Janus.

He scowled, thinking about the snake of a ghost that occupied the upper house. Virgil wished he could kill him a second time.

It was hours later that Roman got home, and once again Janus whisked him away in conversation before Virgil could even greet him

Luckily, however, Janus seemed to be proposing that the heating be turned up. Virgil admitted reluctantly that Janus’ ability to convince people of things was impressive, no matter how much he hated it.

He left his room once he heard Janus and Roman finish their conversation

“Do you have to talk to him so much?” He asked, a sneer on his face

Roman didn’t even look at him before responding

“We’ve gone through this, Virgil. I am friends with both you and Janus. I can’t just not have conversations with one of you to please the other”

Virgil crossed his arms

“Alright, fine. How was your rehearsal?”

Roman went into a long rant about how they’d obviously chosen the lead correctly, as it was him, but that one of his cast mates had been making snide remarks all day, which obviously couldn’t happen

“Alright, I get it, you’re dramatic,” he rolled his eyes

Roman turned to stare at him

“And you’re not? Last week you told me you were going to stay in the basement forever so you would never have to see Janus again!”

Virgil looked away and muttered that he was not being dramatic and never having to see Janus again was the kind of happiness that required no extra dramatics.

“Yeah, okay, so why did you come back up, if you weren’t being over-dramatic when you said that?”

Virgil left the room, totally not dramatically, and checked on the little guy. They were organising things, probably supplies.

They didn’t look as tired anymore. Virgil went back down to his room. He obviously couldn’t let Roman know about the little guy.

Roman was… very excitable. The little guy seemed very skittish, and they seemed to avoid loud noises. It would be best to keep Roman in the dark about this.

—

@a-chilly-pepper @da3dm @betamash

[antisepticcrayon]

Been holding off on sharing this doodle for a while.. I did it a couple weeks ago and have been way to bashful to share it. So now that I've got this account, I feel, safer I guess to share it.

Now this type of a doodle has way deeper a meaning, and that even has to do with the "size" difference between Dj and Patton.

I draw and write Dj as this borrower size because he also gives me a way to rant and vent out my emotions since I don't really talk to anyone about them. He helps me express how I feel with all the scary and troubling dark swirling continuous thoughts in my head without having to say anything.. I feel so small compared to the world around me. I'm so easily looked passed, so small that I'm just not noticable. I'm not big enough to make a difference. I feel so alone and in pain. A Small ball of mental struggles that nobody sees.

Patton just kinda gives me that comfort and parental figure I wish I could have. Sure he's a fictional character but the man behind the camera cares so deeply for the person behind Djs "mask".

Heck Thomas showed me during my first Patreon Livestream. He truely cares and loves me. I just feel seen and truely loved and appreciated by him. he is one of my beams of hope and happiness.

Not only that, Patton also harbors in the series of hoe he always have to be this bright ray of sunshine and happiness. He is supposed to always be the core of happiness and can't falter or weaken becos then Thomas suffers. Being his heart is a big deal, and he can't let it down. He's on this pedistal that he can't come down from. And I relate to that a lot with being who I am as a person.

I'm expected to be happy all the time. it's so exhausting and taxing to put on a fake front for everyone's sake. I'm not allowed to crumble or I become this small dissappointment that everyone overlooks or doesn't take seriously. And I feel that patton can relate to that headspace of having to be perfect and flawless. "The heart" of happiness and nothing else

Anyway, rant over. I appreciate anyone who read this far down 🩵

Patton belongs to @thatsthat24

Just wanted to say a huge thank you to Thomas for being who he is and being such a icon to me... Idk how else to even express it. Just wish I could give him a big hug and just say thank you over and over.

Love ya Thomas! 🩵

[betamash]

[hootnhoney]

Virgil chilling with Logan while Roman is visiting home.

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

I saw that tag and I have to say, Remus would not have a shelf of stuff Virgil made him. He would have a whole closet. He has so many warm sweaters and gloves! He has some absolutely dastardly (slutty) embroidered capes! He even has a badass leather jacket with spikes and matching gloves!! All from his spider!!

Because Virgil would totally take to yarn work like knitting, sewing and embroidery, and occasionally leather working. It keeps his hands busy and gives him something to focus on other than impending doom. Plus spider gotta spider!!

Y E S Y E S Y E S!!! Ree's closet may look small from the outside but the moment the chaotic Duke opens it Vee sees an entire walk-in closet big enough to be it's own clothing store worth of all the stuff the Emo made him <3

[delimeful]

give me mercy no more (2)

warnings: self sacrifice, mentions of hypothetical gore, fear/panic, misunderstandings, abduction, logan getting too excited about science and explaining Nothing 

-

Standing alone on the center of the barren sacrificial altar, Virgil felt as though he’d been wrung out like an old dishcloth.

The stress was still there, along with the terror and the dread and the misery, but after a while they’d faded into simple background noise. A low, ever-present hum, constantly reminding him he was going to die soon.

As though he could forget something like that.

Still. Better him than Janus, or, gods forbid, Thomas. It was the mantra that had carried him this far. He’d say it all the way to his grave.

Assuming he actually got one, that was. There probably wouldn’t be much left to bury.

The sound of distant wingbeats pulled his attention back to the world outside, the chorus of terror growing the slightest bit louder in the back of his mind. He could see the silhouette, growing larger as the dragon got closer, and twisted one of the decorative ceremonial cuffs he’d donned around his wrist nervously.

He glanced at where two of his knights waited at the entrance to the open-air cliff platform.

“You don’t have to be here,” he tried, glancing between them. “It’s dangerous, and you probably won’t want to see…,”

He trailed off, gesturing idly with a cuffed hand, because there was really no delicate way to say ‘I’m most likely about to get torn to bloody shreds.’

The two of them exchanged looks. “We’re staying, sir. The least we can do for you is see this through.”

“I trained you guys too well,” he snorted, but when he turned back to face the open sky, he felt a little less alone.

He hadn’t needed to explain much, not after he’d told them that he would be taking Janus’s place. It had earned him looks, ranging from solemn to pitying, but none dared to argue when Janus himself appeared to have conceded.

(The spell would unravel by nightfall. By then, he’d be long gone, one way or another.)

He might not be an advisor, but when he’d stepped into the role of bodyguard, he’d applied every bit of dedication in his body to the job. He knew more about the kingdom and how it worked than almost anyone else.

And if that didn’t end up being enough? He was fairly sure that being a mage would tip the scales in their favor.

Revealing that little tidbit was a last resort, since rumor had it that most dragons were attracted to magical power in any form, and in order to obtain it, the more ruthless of them would often hunt down and consume human mages.

The thought didn’t manage to perturb Virgil much. He’d felt pretty sure he was going to get bitten in half well before uncovering the truth about that particular rumor, possibly even before he got through the first sentence of his explanation, and he’d committed to the decision anyhow.

Overhead, the dragon began their descent.

An enormous winged shadow fell over him, and for a moment, the instinctual clamor in his head became deafening— YOU’LL DIE YOU’LL DIE YOU’LL DIE— but he forced the automatic tension from his legs.

He couldn’t run. Not from this.

A heavy thump, and Virgil lifted his head to see that the dragon had shifted into a massive humanoid form. Far less aerodynamic, but it was the most common form used whenever a dragon deigned to actually speak with a human. Draconic snouts weren’t ideal for speaking human tongues, after all.

The beast was hardly less intimidating this way. They had settled so they were standing on the ground far beneath the cliffside, but they were large enough that they could easily rest their arms on either side of the wide altar Virgil stood on as simply as Virgil himself would lean against a counter.

Virgil glanced up for as long as he dared, and then resisted the urge to do a double take. Was that… was that their dragon?

He hadn’t been present for the last tribute offering before the assassinations– mostly due to aforementioned identity as a mage– but the being before him didn’t look anything like the descriptions of the ancient, silver-scaled dragon that had Thomas’s ancestors had made a covenant with, back when the kingdom was little more than a well-defended duchy.

For one, their human form was relatively young-looking. For another, the scales and horns that decorated their hairline were a deep indigo.

… Well, Virgil was already on thin ice. He resolutely decided he wasn’t going to be the one to ask. They were waiting on a dragon, and there was one here, so he might as well proceed with the ceremony.

Large, slit-pupil eyes flickered over the scene set before them, a pair of thin, translucent eyelids sweeping over them in what almost looked like a bewildered blink. “This is… unusual.”

It wasn’t the enraged demand for an explanation that he’d been expecting, and Virgil struggled to remember exactly how Janus had phrased his argument, thrown off-balance. “Uh, with the damages–,” no, shit, wait–, “I mean, honorable greetings to the lord of this land,” he hurriedly corrected, bowing his head in deference. “We humbly welcome you.”

There was a pause, and Virgil bit his lip hard enough that he tasted blood. He’d never been the best at the whole social etiquette bit, and somehow the way he’d almost botched the entire thing in the first ten seconds was making him feel more stressed than the past half-hour of waiting for and vividly imagining his impending demise.

“I accept this welcome,” the dragon finally replied, still sounding more curious than angry. Naturally, they managed to make the greeting sound entirely professional and well-practiced. “I haven’t accepted a tribute from this kingdom yet, but I’m familiar with the general concept, and things seem… different.”

That was a definite yes on the new lord thing, then.

Their statement wasn’t phrased as a question, but Virgil recognised a demand for information when he heard one. He straightened back up, only barely keeping himself from falling into a Knight’s rigid upright posture on automatic. “Yes, my lord. There were significant damages to the kingdom during the invasions, and the– the livestock and harvest that would usually be offered don’t exist now.”

“Invasions?” the dragon asked, which was frankly not the part of that statement Virgil had expected their attention to catch on. “Was your previous lord negligent in her duties?”

“N–No,” Virgil tried tentatively, unsure what the right answer was here. “The matters were between humans, and our… previous lord… wasn’t to be bothered with trifles like that.”

The dragon’s brow furrowed, and when they huffed through their nose, a small puff of smoke escaped along with the sigh. “I see,” was all they said, their deep, rumbling voice sounding almost contemplative.

“Currently, our people only barely have enough to survive,” Virgil continued after a moment, trying to stick to the script he’d tricked out of Janus. “In the hopes of– of keeping the kingdom alive, so that you’ll have many years of tribute in the future, we ask that you show mercy and accept an alternative offering this year.”

The dragon’s ears pricked in interest, head tilting slightly. “An alternative offering?”

Deep breaths, now. “Along with heirloom treasures from the royal bloodline, you are offered the– the life of one of His Highness’s closest advisors, with knowledge of all in the kingdom.”

He lifted his chin and forced himself to step forward, spreading his wrists as far as the ceremonial cuffs would allow to make it clear just who was being offered, here. Janus would have made it look elegant, graceful even. Virgil was pretty sure he was only making it look like what it was: a guy in restraints pretending he was fine with his new status as a sacrifice.

The dragon reared back a little, thankfully looking more surprised than murderous. “Does this kingdom usually offer humans as tribute?” they asked, nose scrunching up in a confounded expression

“No, definitely no,” Virgil hurried to say, already grimacing at the idea of setting a precedent. “It’s only in this specific case. Only me.”

“I understand.” The dragon hummed thoughtfully, idly tapping clawed fingers against the stone. “Are any of these heirlooms magically-charged in any way?”

The sinking feeling in Virgil’s gut abruptly got a lot deeper. “No, my lord.”

They sighed in disappointment, clearly uninterested by the offering, and Virgil’s heart nearly seized in his chest at the idea of failing now, of the dragon claiming the original tribute by force and starving their people, of them demanding to see the king punished for the offense, or any number of other nightmarish outcomes.

He took another halting step forward, the sheen of sweat along his skin leaving him chilled in the face of the afternoon breeze. He was well within reach of those huge hands now. “However,” he managed, “there is still magic available in the tribute.”

Under the dragon’s sharp gaze, he couldn’t force another syllable past his clenched teeth. Instead, he held up a single hand and summoned a small orb of flame, shifting the color of the flames to an intense blue in the hopes of showing that he was a strong mage without needing to destroy anything.

His magic stores were considerable, after years of practice keeping them hidden and in reserve. He’d spelled Janus, but that hadn’t burnt through much. Really, it had only drained him emotionally.

The dragon’s pupils expanded as they leaned in closer, inspecting the display with a much more intense version of that same curious expression that they’d worn all along. Virgil swallowed, all his worries about being bitten in half abruptly surging back to the forefront of his mind.

“Oh, wonderful!” the dragon said, and there was a sudden warm weight curling around his back. Virgil turned his head to the side just slightly, and could see those huge claws curving around his shoulders. “Source magic will work much more efficiently than the remnants I could pull from most ancient artifacts, anyhow.”

Virgil forced himself not to try and wiggle out of the grip around him, even when it began lifting him clear off the ground, the dragon’s hand rotating to create a sort of curved cradle underneath him. He knew this would happen, he reminded himself. He’d wanted this over the alternative, and he only had to hang onto his composure for a little longer. Just until he was out of eyeshot of anyone who could tell Janus or Thomas afterwards.

“I accept the kingdom’s tribute and will act as its lord from now on,” the dragon intoned formally, lifting Virgil up further and further.

His heart dropped in horrible terror for a moment, but then he was lifted even higher, until he was staring down at a pair of curved horns. The hand under him tilted, and Virgil scrambled for a grip as he found himself promptly deposited on top of the dragon’s head.

“Hold on tightly,” the dragon warned, “I’ll catch you if you fall, but from this high up, you might pass out from the sudden change in altitude. Hm, I’m not certain humans know about altitude, actually…”

Virgil suspected he might pass out with or without outside interference, but saying as much wouldn’t help him. His gamble had worked, and now he was a mage in the possession of a dragon, as good as dead. He clung onto the horn next to him as the shape under him shifted to something far more reptilian.

They took to the sky, and despite the terrifying vertigo, Virgil turned and watched the kingdom grow smaller and smaller in the distance for as long as he could.

[just-some-gt-trash]

been a year... kinda worried about you

I AM ALIVE!

I HAVE ONCE AGAIN RISEN FROM DEATH'S CLAWS (cofcofdrepressioncofcof)

And, WE'RE COMING BACK TO WRITING BABEY! Oh how I've missed this.

My spark is back! Maybe not 100% back, but it's burning bright enough to motivate me to write again!

AND WE HAVE A MASTERLIST NOW!

For the ones of you that are still here, I'm sorry for taking so long. I hope to still be able to give you stories you enjoy, and I'm happy to say most of what was left unfinished will have a conclusion, that is my top priority.

Thank you annon(s?) for worrying about me.

I'm still going to write for Sanders Sides and G/t. I don't care about the Thomas hate going around that grows and grows, if you don't like him or SaSi, don't read my content. This is what makes ME happy, and it's my escape from life.

I just want to share the art my brain creates with the world.

I have been working on my masterlist for quite some time and it's finally done! Be sure to check it out in case you missed any updates, or if you're new to my vlog and my writing!

WELCOME BACK TO ME! Thank you to whoever stuck around, expect new content very soon.

<3

[fandombead]

It’s the blue guys!

[shortshifter]

Today I offer…a crossover that specifically caters to my current hyperfixation…I cannot stop

drawing them

smol