#Fantasy Sanders sides

[ace-ace-in-yo-face]

"Looking half a corpse and half a god"

- George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

@thatsthat24

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Oh will you look at that

I actually finished it! XD

A not so great day training archery. Dot's peaceful day has been ruined.

[sleepyvirgilprompts]

Virgil is a faerie who likes napping in the woods, and if a human happens to wake him up, he's likely to do something terrible to them. One human, though, wakes him and manages to end up unscathed.

[bluuscreen-png]

this has been sitting in my files for almost a month and i’ve kinda decided i’m just not finishing it so here’s a mostly-rendered knight virgil

[delimeful]

give me mercy no more (1)

G/t July Day 1: Enchanted

(Full Prompt List)

patron prompt: virgil hugging a crying janus!

warnings: arguing, tension, betrayal, mentions of assassinations, offscreen character thomas, it's a g/t fic but i didn't actually get to the g/t yet LOL, self sacrifice, crying, angst

-

“You can’t do this.”

Janus paused for the briefest moment at the sound of his closest friend’s voice, before continuing to pack away rations.

“Can’t I?” he asked airily, not turning around to face Virgil.

He’d known this confrontation was inevitable since they’d come up with the only possible solution to their kingdom’s problem. He hadn’t realized how unprepared he’d feel even now, with the hour of tribute rapidly approaching.

“It’s not right. Thomas needs you,” Virgil insisted, stepping closer.

Without even looking at him, Janus could picture the scowl he was wearing. Terrified and defiant in the face of impossible odds, as always.

Bringing up the heir apparent was a low blow, however.

“Yes, he does,” Janus snapped, a bite to the words. “Do you think anything else on this continent or any other could possibly move me to do something like this?”

A short, stagnant pause as Virgil struggled to find a retort.

“His Highness will be alright,” Janus added, softer. “Of course he will. You’ll be there at his side.”

A year ago, the idea of trusting any of the knights of this kingdom would have been laughable at best. The Sanders kingdom was a pit of vipers, and Janus had blended in with the best of them, climbing the ranks to the position of advisor through means that would make any moral man weep.

He’d still only barely been in time to prevent Thomas from perishing in a political assassination, one initiated by the same mage faction that had orphaned the young boy originally.

Janus didn’t have to do any investigation to learn that particular tidbit; it was an illuminating and concerning letter from the queen, an old friend of his, that had brought him back to the kingdom.

He’d been too late to save her. He’d made sure that the same couldn’t be said for her son.

Back then, he and Virgil had constantly been at each other’s throats, both expecting the other to betray the prince at any moment. Virgil saw right through Janus’ sly facades, and Janus knew that the rank and file of the kingdom’s army were only loyal to the highest bribe.

That was what they’d thought, anyhow.

When the next attempt rolled around, Virgil had been forcefully diverted from his usual patrol route, and was halfway across the grounds when the alarm was raised.

He’d torn through any opponent in his way in a desperate frenzy, and burst into the prince’s quarters expecting to see the worst.

Instead, he’d found Thomas whole and unharmed, positioned solidly behind Janus, who stood ready with two narrow, poisoned blades. The room already had a handful of would-be assassins collapsed on the ground, some in the same exact livery Virgil wore.

“Come and try,” Janus had hissed, keenly aware of the slash along his side and the way blood was already darkening his doublet.

Virgil, bigger and stronger and less winded even after a sprint across the kingdom, had taken two steps forward and knelt before him, head bowed.

The fool. Janus had almost stabbed him on reflex alone.

“Thank you,” he’d said, the back of his neck well and truly exposed, “for protecting him.”

Janus wasn’t used to being trusted. It had thrown him off for long enough that he’d stayed his blade, and before he knew it, Virgil had managed to worm his way under his defenses and become not only a trusted ally, but a snarky, paranoid, invaluable friend.

They grew to be called the Two Hands of the Future King, a title probably invented by some of the more pretentious court nobles. Virgil hated the attention, and Janus leaned into it just to annoy him.

They’d have to come up with something different, after Janus was gone. He wondered if his death would be referred to as something garishly insensitive, like The Amputation. Hopefully not; Virgil might actually come to blows if he heard that sort of thing.

He dragged his mind out of the past, sliding another ration he would likely never eat into his bag with the same smooth calculation he’d done everything else in his life.

“Besides, there’s no cause to be dramatic. I’ll be fine,” he said, voice full of a certainty he didn’t feel.

He held his breath as Virgil stood silently at his back for a long moment. His lies had never worked on the knight, but now he silently begged that for once, Virgil wouldn’t shatter the illusion. That he wouldn’t make this harder than it needed to be.

“Tell me how you plan to convince them,” Virgil finally said.

Janus let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I already went over my strategy at the council meeting, didn’t I?”

“I was too pissed off to pay attention,” Virgil replied bluntly. “Tell me again. The way you’ll tell the beast.”

It was a rare occasion for Virgil to want to embrace a lie instead of the painful truth. Janus could grant him that, at least.

“With the damages from the invasion, we find ourselves unable to provide our usual tribute without starving to death ourselves,” Janus began, the speech long-memorized in the agonizing past week of waiting. “In order to preserve the existence of our kingdom, and by extension, the existence of your future tributes many years to come, we have provided an alternative offering that we hope will please you.”

He turned and spread his hands in an elegant flourish, his posture loose and pointedly unwary. “Along with precious heirloom riches, you are offered His Highness's own most trusted advisor, with vast wisdom and knowledge gathered from this continent and others.”

To do with as you please, he completed silently in his head. That would be no comfort to Virgil.

After all, everyone knew what most dragons pleased to do to humans that inconvenienced them.

Virgil stared at him with a deep wrinkle in his brow for a moment, and then snorted. “I should have guessed that you would flatter yourself even in a time like this.”

Janus smirked, repeating his favorite retort. “I speak only the truth, Honored Knight, and I’d thank you not to imply otherwise.”

Virgil smiled despite himself, but as the silence stretched it collapsed into an expression much more desolate.

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Janus lied, and then, after a beat of hesitation, lifted his arms in a wordless offering.

Virgil crashed into the hug with enough force to nearly bowl Janus over, but he didn’t bother with a single complaint, only savored the warmth of his best friend safe in his arms.

He was doing this for both of them. His two most important people.

They stood like that for a long moment, and then with a low, pained sigh, Janus began to pull back.

Only to find that his limbs had gone strangely numb.

A jolt of surprise went through him, but all Virgil did was slowly shift them over to the nearby armchair, giving him somewhere to sit heavily as the prickling feeling spread further through his body.

“Something’s wrong,” he managed through lips he could barely feel.

Virgil, usually so quick to check him over at even the slightest sign of injury, spent a moment longer with his head tucked over his shoulder before withdrawing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his eyes were eerily lit up from within by magecraft. “But we both know who Thomas needs more. And it’s not me.”

The enchantment didn’t hurt. It settled soft and heavy on him like a blanket with the weight of stone, keeping him stuck in place even as his mind began to shriek.

“How?” he managed.

“I was born into a bloodline with the gift. Got kicked out. I didn’t want anyone to know,” Virgil said, letting a few sparks flick off his fingers. “I probably could have told you, I was just… afraid, I guess. I know it’s not fair to ask, but don’t tell Thomas? I don’t want to bring back bad memories for the kid.”

Janus had moved rapidly from shock to anger, not at the secret of Virgil’s nature, but at what exactly he planned to do with it.

“Don’t,” he said, a desperate tilt to the word even as it came out slightly mangled.

“You were right, Jay,” Virgil said with a wry tilt of his lips. “You’ll be fine. So take care of him, okay?”

Janus managed the slightest shake of his head, and whatever expression he was making was enough to make Virgil’s own composure crack slightly.

“You hypocrite,” he said, voice choked, and pulled him into another hug.

Janus hadn’t wept when he’d realized that the only way to keep Thomas safe was to sacrifice himself.

Now, with Virgil’s arms wrapped around him, he felt his stinging eyes spill over.

His breath hitched, the only version of a sob that could make it through his body’s current stasis.

“I know,” Virgil murmured, clutching him tightly. “I know. I won’t change my mind, but I’m sorry. I don’t— I don’t want to leave. But I have to.”

He couldn’t do anything to stop this, Janus realized blankly. He could only clutch back at his best friend’s arms with the barest curling of his numb fingers. He could only see the slight tremors that shook through Virgil’s frame, the pallid cast to his skin.

He could only watch as Virgil released him, picked up his bag and walked to the door, stopped to look at him with fear and stubbornness in equal measure.

“I’ll see you around,” he said simply, giving him a simple salute and a small smile.

And then he was gone.

[tentacle-therapissed]

Fabian Seacaster x Aelwyn Abernant? You mean AU Roceit?

[roseredbedhead]

🌹 | 🐲 | 🌹 🗡 | 🌠 | 🗡 🐲 | 🌹 | 🐲 🌠 | 🗡 | 🌠

[fandombead]

👑 Happy Logince Week~! 💫

Prompt: Poetry

Our love shall bind me

And allow you to find me

In your world someday

TFW your soulmate is from another realm and gets cursed trying to break the rules to be with you, amiright??

~❤️💙❤️💙~

Tiny bit belated to the Logince Week Party, but I got inspired yesterday and my fic was slow going!! So here we are! I worked like I was possessed until this was done hahaha!

@loginceweek2024 !

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

(block DW) huh. good question. logan, DID you just de-elf yourself?

~firefly anon

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

PCs available: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Annie

[bitterandenraged]

HIIIII GAY PEOPLE INSIDE MY PHONE !!

Logan animatic is IN THE WORKS since he won the polls, I found the perfect song, too (i've been hyperfixated on it for a week or so).

I also may do a bit more about my mlp sanders sides au, 1nd MAYYYBE a bit of final fantasy fanart because it's been a special interest of mine for 15 years 😭, you guys stay tuned ‼️‼️

[typically-untypical]

Falling For You

AU: Fantasy

CW: Injury

WC: 1,595

Date: 12/16/2023

"Stay by my side," Janus called to Patton and Roman, completely dropping the titles he should have been using. This was so typical of him, waiting until the moment there were no onlookers and dropping any respect he was supposed to show the two kings. Honestly Roman didn't mind. For the past decade, Janus had been Roman's guard, protecting him whether he was on the ground or in flight. Even before he was a guard, he had been the kid that snuck in to see Roman. They had always been by each other's side, and why Roman was younger, he had naively believed he and Janus were fated to be together. He dreamed of Janus sweeping him off his feet, making a snide remark and whisking him away to the unknown, away to a place where they weren't separated by their class and they could be together without sideways glances.

However, that wasn't the role of a guard, and it certainly wasn't the place for a royal. Roman had the responsibility to carry on his family lineage, to hold his head high and be above reproach when it came to society. That didn't mean he stopped craving Janus' deep voice whispering in his ear. It just meant he got much better at hiding it.

Patton, Roman's husband, wasn't nearly as experienced in the ways of denying his emotions. Patton wore his heart on his sleeve and it was beautiful, but dangerous. He attempted to hide his sadness and pain but it was easy enough to see it, almost as easy to see the blooming curiosity his husband had for their guard. Janus had a way with words, a way of peaking people's interest and twisting them around him. That was how Roman had fallen, so completely enamored with the coiling twists of Janus' tongue that he hadn't realized he was ensnared until it was too late.

"My kings!" Janus' voice was loud, screaming through the wind as he threw himself and his alicorn in front of Patton and Roman. The blast came soon after, rocking Janus back. It felt like a slow spell had been cast as Janus slowly tipped off his mount, empty eyes connecting with Roman's before time sped up and Janus was free falling. 

"No!" Patton shouted just after, pushing himself from the safety of Roman's arms and diving into the sky to grab Janus. The were wrapped together, billowing cloaks in the wind as Patton struggled to grab his wand. 

There wasn't enough time.

 There wasn't enough time! 

Roman grabbed the reins hard, steering towards the two rushing to the ground. 

There wasn't time to think. 

He had to act. 

Matching his descent with theirs he scooped both into his arms, almost missing Patton's hand. They were safe. He was holding them. 

Roman leveled out but there was still a threat. Bolts of magic fired at the three of them while he tried to steer away. His chest was tight, running on pure adrenaline until he landed. 

"Patton get him somewhere safe." Roman jumped off the alicorn, pulling his own wand out of his pocket.

"But Roman, what are you-"

"I've got this handled." Landing might not have been the best strategy. He had less area to maneuver around this way, but he couldn't risk falling. He wasn't going to die here. He wouldn't leave either of them behind. Roman turned to look at Patton, showing him the softest smile he could manage. Was he frightened? Sure. Was he concerned about winning this fight? Possibly. However, nothing would be worse than him losing the two people he loved. For a brief moment Roman entertained the idea of being a gallant hero, of letting his name go down in history for saving Patton and Janus. The two of them would get together and Janus would be taken care of.

No, now wasn't the time for that. He shot Patton another look, and the man swallowed before nodding. He took the reins of the alicorn and flew away into the forest. They would be hard to follow there. Thankfully, the men after them went for the easy prey, flying toward Roman instead of going after Patton and Janus. There were four riders, two with wands and two with swords. His hand itched to reach for his own sword but he had to be strategic about this. The ones with the wands posed the most problems but if the two with the swords got any closer that could change. Roman waved his wand above his head, casting it down and creating a wall of ice between the two groups hoping to buy Patton and Janus more time. He then whistled for Janus' mount who had been aimlessly flying in circles without a rider to guide him. The Alicorns were very intelligent creatures, they knew when it was time to work and when it was time to play. Roman was lucky the bridal hadn't been knocked off as well or he might not have had a mount at all. 

"I'm surprise the four of you managed to knock my guard off his mount." They didn't speak the two with magic shooting at him but Roman was able to dodge with minor injures, shivering at the cold that latched onto his leg. "Your skills pale in comparison." Maybe taunting them wasn't the best idea. It was important he keep their attention. He could see the way they grew angrier with his jabs and the ice wall shattered. Thankfully just in time for Roman to throw himself onto the Alicorn and take to the skies. Patton and Janus were decently far away now. They should be safe. It was time to fight for real. 

He wished he could spare the griffins, the chosen mounts for his pursuers, but it was always dangerous to attempt to take in creatures that had been tamed by the enemy. Roman had to act without mercy. He slung spells at his pursuers, felling those who would try to hurt him, and when his mana was drained, he pulled out his sword, ready to attack with the horn of his alicorn and also with the fury of his own blade. The sun was setting by the time he was able to land. He allowed the alicorn to lead, knowing they were often drawn to others of their species. They walked instead of flying, making their way through the forests that protected the city, stumbling through the dark with only each other. As the last lights of day faded, Roman saw a light, a small campfire off in the distance. 

"Patton you have to let me go!" Janus was shouting, his voice pitched higher then it normally was a sound he only made when consumed by panic. "He could be in danger."

"You don't think I know that?" Patton sounded like he had been crying. "But he didn't want you to get hurt."

"And he also doesn't have many brain cells."

"That's not an appropriate thing to say about your king," Roman said as he walked into the clearing, smiling softly when he saw both of them were alright. Patton was already rushing toward him and Janus was straightening himself out, shoulders back, hands pressing down his guard uniform. It was like watching someone put on a carefully curated mask. Janus had always been good at that, but that only worried Roman more.

As soon as his husband was in his arms, Roman hugged Patton tightly. His eyes never really left Janus who cleared his throat upon realizing the intensity of his king's gaze.

"I am thankful you're alright," he hesitated, voice hanging in the air before Janus bowed, whispering, "your highness." That simply wouldn't do. It was only the three of them and Roman preferred the man who argued and challenged him to one that quietly followed orders. Gently putting his hands on Patton's shoulders, Roman pushed him away, kissing his cheek lightly. He was about to do something they had talked about for a while and outside the confines of the castle and society, Roman was willing to take a risk. He had almost lost Janus today. He wasn't risking this again. Roman marched over, twigs snapping under his feet.

He was face to face with Janus, in a manner of speaking, but the other man was still bowing, head dipped in reverence. That really wouldn't do. Roman lifted up Janus' chin, tilting him toward the sky.

"Come now Roman, I know you won't behead me for such a simple faux pas," he was trying to smile, but there was a hint of doubt in his eyes, a hint of something else. How could Janus doubt him? After so long?

"Will you shut up for once in your life?" He leaned forward, kissing Janus with as much heat as care, pulling the man in closer as he second hand went to explore Janus' body. Roman wanted to touch him as much as he wanted to verify the knight was okay.

When they finally separated for air, Janus was smirking, a look of love sickness in his eyes. "That wasn't an appropriate thing for a king to do," He whispered and Patton giggled, causing Janus to blush just a hint. 

"I don't care, you aren't allowed to leave."

"Can I have a turn?" Patton asked, resting one hand on Roman's arm and the other on Janus'. He had a pout on his lips that barely hide a smile. They would figure this out together, society be damned. Roman wasn't going to lose him.

@tsspromptmonth

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Roman: Enough! How dare you mock me in such a manner!? Janus: Well. How would you like me to mock you? I take requests.

[sleepyvirgilprompts]

In a fantasy AU, Virgil is some kind of magician/sorcerer/mage. His friends are fairly sure he has never heard of moderation or taking care of oneself. He passes out from overtaxing his magic on a regular basis.

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Do you ever casually obsess over an au you never wrote down? No? Just m- …Oh. Oh it’s all of us. Oh.

Welp.

I’ll link the picrew in the comments

[delimeful]

a still-glowing ember (2)

warnings: g/t, remus pov-typical violence/gore/innuendo, ignoring one's needs/magical burnout, self destructive behavior, hypothermia, death mention

-

If Remus didn’t find his brother soon, he was going to burn this stupid forest to the ground.

He decidedly ignored the way the night’s cold was seeping into him, frost biting deep enough that he probably couldn’t even conjure a spark, let alone a flame.

That wouldn’t stop him. He’d figure out how to start a fire the human way if that was what it took.

(And afterward, if Roman’s spark had already extinguished by the time he found him– he would find him– Remus would figure out how to burn to death the human way, too.)

They’d never be able to come back to this valley, anyhow. Remus had snatched three whole territory markers from a shifter as he headed north, using the decision-making process that had gotten him labeled ‘a danger to himself and others’ at his first colony.

What could he say? Roman was the closest thing he had to impulse control.

He’d considered going back for another one– the temperature drop as the sun set was killer, literally– but stealing foxfire was the sort of thing one couldn’t repeat without getting gleefully disemboweled by a pissed-off fox shifter, and who would track down Roman then?

Already planning exactly how he’d make fun of his brother for losing to a measly storm, Remus flapped his wings sharply, sending another wave of warmth through them and ignoring the way the cold pit in his chest deepened a bit more.

It didn’t matter. He’d always wondered what it would feel like to gutter down to ashes, anyhow.

The world’s most torchable forest continued to look the same no matter how far he flew, all thick-trunked trees and mossy undergrowth that he’d normally be eager to taste test. There was barely anything resembling a breeze, so the murmur of rustling leaves had been completely overtaken by the hum of insects and distant calls of night birds.

The lack of wind was just another stroke of bad luck. Normally, without any drafts to coast on, sprites would find a perch to occupy. He couldn’t glide for long, meaning that his half-frozen wings were working twice as hard to keep him in the air.

He had to keep moving. Roman was out there somewhere, perched in one of these identical trees or flitting from branch to branch in his own search. If he actually cared that Remus was missing, that was. Remus’s brain was beginning to suggest otherwise.

Maybe he’s glad to have the chance to get away from you, his mind offered. You should hunt him down and break his wings into little frozen splinters.

There was a heavy thud and rustle nearby, and Remus veered towards it, because investigating things that could potentially murder him sounded way better than listening to the squishy gray matter in his skull.

The source of the commotion turned out to be a sizable bear, shuffling its way down the trunk of a large tree. Remus circled around the scene on quiet wings, taking in the practiced movements of the beast.

Oh yeah, that could definitely murder me, he thought, successfully sidetracked. In a single hit, even. One of those paws probably weighed as much as three of him.

It was a moon bear, he was pretty sure, just barely able to see the telltale sliver of cream fur on its chest in the dark of the night. Not one of the more carnivorous species, boo.

No idea what it had been doing up there, but he didn’t have time to pursue the distraction any further.

With all the turning, his glide had shifted to more of a controlled fall, and he flapped his wings a few times, ignoring the way the bear’s attention shifted towards his direction. The flaps were frustratingly weak, slowed by encroaching icy numbness, and he forced another surge of warmth through them.

His spark pulsed painfully, and in the next moment, his vision blacked out entirely.

His wings flailed out to try and brake automatically, but vertigo had struck like a viper, and he could hardly tell up from down. There was wind in his ears now, which probably meant that he was currently hurtling towards a very splattery end.

He’d always said he wanted to go out screaming and covered in someone else’s blood, but he couldn’t even draw breath to yell, his whole body struggling to right itself amidst the pain of nearly burning himself out.

There was a sudden impact against one wing, hard but thin– a branch? Any semblance of direction vanished as he tumbled head over heels through what felt like an endless stretch of bush. Each stinging lash hurt, but by the time he hit the ground, his momentum had slowed enough to make the impact totally agonizing instead of extremely fatal.

He lay there for a few long moments, stunned or possibly paralyzed. He couldn’t really tell if the snapping sounds had been the branches around him or all of his bones. Slowly, his vision began to fade back in, each blink bringing a new arrangement of black spots.

Distantly, he finally registered an odd sound, one that was gradually growing closer.

Snuffling.

Oh, right. The bear.

Moon bears weren’t particularly active carnivores, but their primary meat intake was carrion. He remembered because he’d thought it was extremely funny, and also an excellent fact to gross Roman out with.

Remus attempted to twitch a wing, and failed miserably. His whole body felt like it had been tenderized into a paste.

… He was pretty sure he counted as carrion, at this point.

Getting eaten by a bear was a cooler death than hitting the ground because he forgot how to fly, at least.

The rustling of leaves intensified as something began pushing past the bush’s branches, presumably searching for him.

There was the sour taste of misery on the back of his tongue, knowing that if Roman was still alive out there somewhere, Remus had abandoned him with not even a corpse left behind. It was his own fault, he thought with a pang of aimless violent fury. If he’d been smarter or quicker or more reserved about his search, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

He was distracted from the impulse to bite down on his own arm– half to vent his anger and half because if something was going to eat him, he wanted the first bite– by the sensation of something soft and warm grazing him.

It was like his body remembered it was freezing all at once. He leaned against the warmth despite himself, his breath catching as a new wave of involuntary shivering agitated every bruise and bump he had, and struggled to think past the sensation.

The thing grabbing him wasn’t a bear mouth, he realized, mildly disgruntled. There were no teeth. Only a bunch of flexible, appendage-like protrusions poking through the brush and curling around him.

The mystery of it all was the only thing keeping his mind off his shrieking nervous system as his battered frame was steadily pried free from the bush’s tangled grasp. He stared down at the fleshy lump settled across his chest like a band and abruptly realized he was looking at a fingernail.

A hand. Had a human somehow grabbed him? Remus blinked, dizzily sinking into the warmth of it. Maybe they could help him with the forest fire. He’d been planning to set something on fire human-style, hadn’t he?

“Try to stay awake. Your body temperature is dangerously low,” a low, measured voice informed him.

Remus hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to the sight of a considerably larger face looking down at him. Not human after all, going by those fangs and the round, fuzzy black ears atop the stranger’s head. Where had he seen those ears before…?

The stranger had continued talking, not that Remus had caught any of it, and was now levering his arm up between two fingers and pressing on it. It felt gentle, but sensations could be deceiving in the cold, so it was totally possible he was about to watch his humerus get snapped in two. The stranger was staring at him expectantly now, as though a question had been asked.

Remus didn’t have an answer, but having finally figured out just what kind of shifter was holding him, he did have something to say. Inhaling past his bruised ribs, he tilted his head back against the palm he was resting on to make eye contact.

“You’re beary hot,” he managed, and with his piece said, proceeded to immediately pass out.

–

Remus woke up to fur in his mouth.

“Pfah,” he said, coherently.

The fur underneath him twitched, everything swaying slightly as though wherever he was laying wasn’t exactly solid ground. He was also sweltering, which was a great state for him to be in if he didn’t want his spark to go out from overstress. Really though, how much fur did one have to inhale to start coughing up hairballs?

There was a careful oversized breath, and then the surface below him abruptly shifted to something much flatter and smoother. Fabric, Remus realized, his cheek pressed against distinct woven threads.

“Hello,” a voice rumbled through him, large and close. “You’re on top of me. Please don’t be alarmed.”

Remus waggled his eyebrows blearily, still too disoriented to even contemplate being alarmed. Besides, he didn’t startle easily. He was normally the one alarming.

“Did you at least buy me dinner first?” he asked, his delivery weakened by the instant pain that blossomed in his chest. “Ow.”

“My apologies,” the voice replied. “I was unable to reduce the bruising of your ribs, since applying ice would have only worsened your condition. I did not prepare any dinner, because you were unconscious.”

Either this guy had the best deadpan in the business, or the innuendo had completely flown over his head. Remus was delighted regardless.

He struggled to push himself upright, his entire body protesting severely, and a giant hand lifted into his line of sight, hurriedly curving around him as a supportive measure. The feeling was familiar, and Remus went rigid as he recalled exactly how he’d gotten here.

“Where are we?” he asked, all traces of his lackadaisical attitude gone.

If the stranger was surprised by his sudden intensity, he didn’t show it. “My home. It’s a cave near the northwestern edge of the valley, and I brought you here after seeing–”

“You motherfucker,” Remus swore, and twisted to bite down on the stranger’s hand.

The fingers contracted briefly, but surprisingly enough, didn’t collapse down to instinctively crush him.

“Ow.” The stranger’s voice was insultingly monotone about the attack, which admittedly hadn’t even broken skin. “Stop that. There’s no need, I don’t intend you any harm.”

Seeing that his best efforts weren’t cutting it, Remus unlatched his jaw and craned his neck to scowl up at them. “Forget harm! You kidnapped me while I was in the middle of something!”

“Yes,” they replied dryly, “dying. I noticed.”

“How long has it been?” Remus asked, shoving to his hands and knees. “Is it still night?”

There were two hands hovering anxiously over him, now. “Not long has passed. There are still several hours until dawn breaks. Why?”

“Because I’ve got a featherbrain brother to find,” he said, “so sorry to smash-and-dash, stranger, but you’ll have to abduct me to your cave against my will another time.”

The stranger went quiet for a long moment, during which Remus painstakingly managed to push himself up to a standing position, though his wings were limply dragging behind him.

He couldn’t really see very far before his vision went blurry, so he wasn’t sure entirely where the exit was, but he could figure it out. It was a cave, after all: either he’d find the opening or he’d walk endlessly deeper and deeper into the earth like a dumbass.

Before he could successfully balance well enough to take a step towards one of those destinations, though, a shadow fell over him.

“My name is Logan,” the shifter spoke up, “and I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

As easily as a breeze would pick up a leaf, Logan scooped Remus off his feet back into his cupped palm.

“Nobody ‘lets’ me do anything!” Remus snapped back, thrashing as best he could against the grip. Seeing as he currently had the strength of a newborn kitten, it didn’t do much. “Come on, you can eat my corpse later, I’ve got time-sensitive shit to do!”

The comment earned him a minor twitch. “I have no desire to eat your corpse. That would defeat the entire purpose of this venture, which is to prevent you from becoming a corpse in the first place.”

“My corpse, my business!” It was frustrating to know that if they had met in normal circumstances, Logan was exactly the sort of stiff-backed repressed nerd that Remus would have delighted in teasing. Almost as frustrating as the fact that the dork wouldn’t let him go!

With a huff, Remus gave up on avoiding agitating his wounds and threw himself into struggling with no care for bodily harm.

“Listen to me,” Logan tried, sounding slightly more harried. “Your internal temperature is only barely beginning to recover. If you expose yourself to the frigid weather outside for any longer–!”

“Oh, I’ll expose myself alright,” Remus snarled, because what was the point of nonsensical threats if they couldn’t also be saucy? “Roman is out there in that weather!”

“And you’ll be no help to him if you choose to freeze to death out of simple, ignorant stubbornness!” Logan literally growled, the noise vibrating through Remus and lingering in the back of the shifter’s chest. “I will help you search once you’ve stabilized, but until then, you are at my mercy.”

Remus stared up at him, in utter disbelief that someone could make playing nursemaid to a sprite sound so threatening.

Logan’s expression softened, but his grip remained firm. “I refuse to sit by and watch such foolishness. I won’t be made to explain it to your brother.”

Maybe it was the way his words assumed Roman’s survival after Remus had spent the whole night imagining the worst, or maybe Remus was just exhausted enough for a rational argument to have an effect on him for once.

Either way, he clearly wasn’t winning this fight. He let his body flop limply against Logan’s hand with no little amount of petulance.

“If you don’t help me search, I’ll learn how to perform surgery on giants just so I can fill your organs with flesh-eating wasps.”

Logan took the concession for what it was, and only raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be simpler to lock me in a room with the wasps? My flesh would be eaten either way, right?”

It was the perfect question to distract himself with. Remus launched into a heated defense of the differences between external versus internal flesh consumption as torture methods, barely noticing as Logan carefully moved his limp wings back into a more comfortable resting position.

The shifter kept asking questions as he cupped his hand against his chest, creating a cushion of warmth on all sides. Remus kept talking even as drowsiness began to set in, a sprite cradled up against the heartbeat of a bear shifter. Heh. He had always wanted to cuddle something that could maul him.

Remus knew the warmth rekindling in his chest was his spark. Still, it felt a little like hope, too.

… Blech, Roman had been rubbing off on him.

He’d have to return the favor once they were reunited.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

I suppose this could be considered a sneak peak into a new longer fic I'm writing, buuuut whatever it's art.

Witchy Janus!!! He trades potions to fellow magic folk. Sound similar to another Janus we know? Well let it be known that I've been working on this since before Doc Janus made his debut dnkskdksodos

I used Green as well as yellow mainly because this AU has background Dukeciet that barely features at all but I thought it was a fun detail to add Remus' colour to Janus' design too :D