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tss-whumper · 2 months

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please believe me - a sanders sides whump one-shot

summary: roman has always been a little bit more fragile than he wants to admit. he gets dizzy spells and vertigo, and struggles to walk often because of this. but when he discovers that he can use a cane to better his mobility, he's amazed and delighted...until he tells the other sides, who do not take this well.

word count: 4.3k

content warnings: internalized ableism, ableism, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, bullying, emotional abuse, concussions, dry-heaving, all of the sides except for roman, remus, and logan could be seen as unsympathetic.

Roman liked to consider himself strong. Though he knew that all of the other sides were stronger than him physically, he also knew that he had a lot of stamina and fortitude of his own. After all, he was the only side who would regularly go on adventures of his own imagining, slaying pretend dragons and running through the forest. He also knew that he was often the one asked to do strenuous tasks, because he was the only one who had the energy to go from start to finish without slackening even a little.

But lately, that energy had been burning out quicker than usual.

Roman would be walking through his imaginary forest, and then suddenly, his vision would blur. His head would hurt. His heart would pound. And he would stumble and fall, gasping to catch his breath as his heart raced. But by the time he realized what was happening, he was on the ground, and it was going away. At first, Roman thought nothing of it. Probably lack of nutrition. So he ate more. It helped a little, but not a lot. Lack of sleep? He got his beauty sleep, ten hours a night. But even when he increased to eleven hours, the dizzy spells did not stop.

The longer it went on, the worse the spells got. They would last longer, and be more severe. There would even be times where Roman had to stay on the floor for minutes at a time, just to get his heart to stop pounding and his body to stop trembling. He was always thirsty, always hungry. No matter how much he ate and drank. And he started to grow wary of going into his forest alone. What if he collapsed and couldn't get back up? Each time he fell, it grew harder and harder to pick himself up. It started to feel like his bones were becoming brittle and useless.

Until one day.

He went for a little walk after a frustrating argument with Remus, making sure to keep close to his bedroom door, just in case. But this time, when his vision blurred and he teetered to the side, he held out his arms, grappling for something to keep him upright. And his hands wrapped tightly around a branch of a tree. The dizziness was still there, and Roman could see the world around him moving. But he was still. And he knew that he was still, because the branch did not move. The branch kept him steady, and helped him figure out where to slowly and shakily move his feet to keep walking. The branch made things feel less terrifying, like he had more control over his body and the situation.

It was revolutionary.

Ever since that day, Roman started to cling to branches and trunks and whatever he could to keep himself upright. And it went from being whenever he felt dizzy to all the time, that way, it didn't take him by surprise, and he would know that he had something to hold onto if the dizziness came on in a flash, as it tended to. And Roman felt so safe and secure, and more than anything? He felt brave again.

---

"Janus, your cane is so pretty," Patton marveled one day as all the sides gather for a movie night, "You never did tell us what it's for. Is it just for decoration?"

"Not really," Janus shrugged, sitting on the couch, "It's to help keep me from putting too much weight on my weak joints. It's just easier to walk when I'm holding onto something."

Roman's eyes went round as saucers when he heard this. He stared at Janus' cane, black polished wood, with a curve on one end for Janus to hold onto, and a flat base on the other for it to keep his body steady on the ground.

"You mean you just use the cane, and it keeps you from falling down?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

Janus wrinkled his nose, clearly confused by Roman's fascination with his cane and his disability. He pulled his cane closer to himself.

"I don't fall down," he said, "But it does help with keeping me upright when I'm feeling a lot of pain."

The other sides asked their own questions about Janus' cane and his disability, but Roman couldn't hear any of it. All he could think about was that cane. It was just like the tree branch in the forest. It kept Janus grounded, it gave him something to support himself with when his body gave out. It was perfect.

Roman gracefully excused himself, rushing to his room, stumbling inside and falling to the ground as another dizzy spell hit him. But he didn't mind being splayed out on the carpet, grinning like a child in a toy store as he started to conjure up a cane. The perfect cane. It wouldn't be black like Janus'. It would be red, so Roman could always find it. And instead of having a curved area for the hand, it just went out horizontally a few inches, and the handle was a nice plush material that was nice to hold. The bottom was flat like Janus', but it was wider. Roman thought about the strong trunk of the tree, how the wider the foundation was, the stronger the tree stood. Roman made the bottom of his cane about two inches wide, so that there was plenty of sure flatness for him to lean upon.

And then, it was finished. Using the cane, Roman struggled to his feet, clutching the cane tightly. Getting up was much easier when he had something to hold onto. The world rocked and spun around him, but as he gripped the plush handle of the cane, Roman didn't feel so scared. He didn't feel like one wrong step would cause him to crash back down. Slowly, he dragged the cane forward, and then, he took a step. He did not lean heavily on the cane, but he did rest about half his weight on it. The cane was perfect for orienting himself. Letting his body know where it was in space.

It was amazing. Roman almost cried from joy. How did it take him this long to figure out such a simple solution to his problem? Now, he would never topple over from a dizzy spell again!

---

The very first day Roman walked to the kitchen with his cane, he was all smiles. He dragged it gently in front of him, the way he had in his bedroom. Now, it was decorated beautifully. Roman had gone to the forest and delicately wrapped chains of dried flowers around his cane, making for a simple but elegant decoration. Roman felt as if he was glowing from the inside out. Every step was so certain. Every step felt like flying.

"Roman, what the hell is that?"

Air deflated from Roman's chest as he heard the intense hostility in Virgil's tone.

"It's my cane," Roman said, smiling at Virgil as widely as he could, though fear danced in his eyes. "It helps me walk. I get dizzy a lot, and I've been falling over. The cane keeps me from falling."

"You fall over," Virgil repeated, very deadpan in his delivery, "I've never seen you fall over."

"Well- yeah, it mostly happens in the forest," Roman explained, "When I've been running and playing for a while. But sometimes it comes on all of a sudden. I'm glad I found the cane before it happened in front of any of you guys. It's very unbecoming of a prince to be collapsing at random!"

But Virgil did not laugh at Roman's lighthearted remark. His gray eyes narrowed and he stared at the cane for a long time.

"You know, I hate Janus," he said slowly, "You know that. I hate him more than Thomas hates carrots. But there are some lines you can't cross when making fun of him. I can't believe you'd do something like this, Roman. It's a real jackass move."

"What...?" Roman felt tears form in his eyes, "What are you talking about? What's a jackass move?"

"This! All of this!" Virgil cried out, gesturing to the cane, "Faking some dizzy thing to try and get attention? To try and make some sort of mockery of Janus' literal disability? That's not cute, Roman!"

Footsteps could be heard, and Patton and Janus entered the hallway from the kitchen. Patton was holding a mixing bowl. Janus was holding a spoon in one hand, and his cane in the other. Roman was trying his hardest not to cry, biting his lip so hard that he could feel blood dripping down his gums inside his mouth.

"What's going on in here, kiddos?" Patton asked, "It's a Saturday morning, there's no need to yell."

Then, Patton laid eyes upon Roman's cane. And Janus did too.

"It's another one of Roman's little ploys for attention," Virgil hissed, glaring murderously at the creative side, "He must have seen Janus' cane yesterday and gotten all pissy. Because the attention wasn't all on him."

"That's not true!" Roman choked out, desperate for support as he gazed imploringly at Patton, "I swear, it's not true- I- I've been getting dizzy for weeks! Before I even knew about Janus' cane, I was struggling with this- why won't you believe me??"

"If you were struggling, why didn't you tell us?" Janus asked quietly, "Everybody knows that little Princey can't keep a secret to save his life. Why now? Why this?"

"I..." Roman choked on air. "I didn't want to worry you guys. I didn't know what it was, and- I was trying to fix it on my own. I don't understand. The cane helps me walk, just like it helps you."

"Roman, honey," Patton said gently, approaching Roman and placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you do get a little dizzy from time to time. That's normal for somebody as active as you. And your diet isn't exactly the healthiest, what, with all that fruit you eat. So much sugar, and you barely eat anything at mealtimes."

"I eat plenty at mealtimes," Roman tried to reassure, "I swear it. This isn't something that can be solved by that stuff- at least, I don't think so."

"I know you want people to pay attention to you," Patton interjected, his voice gentle, but his eyes glistening with a warning, "I know you like being the center of everyone's focus, buddy. But you're a big, strong prince! You're Roman. You're supposed to be a valiant and brave prince. Don't you want to be a prince, Roman?"

"Of course I do," Roman whispered, a tear rolling down his face.

"Can you name any princes who use a cane?" Patton asked sweetly, and when Roman faltered, Patton continued, "Exactly. You're a big boy, Roman. You don't need stuff like this. Let's leave the canes to the actual disabled people, alright? It's the respectful thing to do, sweetheart."

Roman started to feel dizzy. He was not sure if it was from a dizzy spell or from the extreme overwhelm of emotions that were weighing him down. Perhaps it was both. All he knew was that he needed to get out of here. He gripped his cane and turned to go, but he found that something was keeping him there.

Virgil's hands were holding tightly onto Roman's cane, keeping him from moving it. Roman's fragile, trembling fingers were no match for Virgil's strong and certain ones.

"Please," he whispered, "Give me my cane."

"No," Virgil glowered, "You can walk ten steps to your room by yourself. I know you can. I've seen it. You're being a real dick, Roman. I just want you to drop the act, okay? I'm not asking for much."

"I need my cane, please," Roman begged, more tears dripping down his chin and his upper lip. "I feel dizzy."

"Of course you do," Janus muttered, rolling his eyes, "Of course you magically feel dizzy while we're calling you out. And here I was thinking I was Deceit."

Janus turned and walked back into the kitchen. But Patton stayed standing in the doorway, and Virgil stayed holding Roman's cane.

"I'm not backing off from this," Virgil said, "Go. Walk."

Roman realized that he was outnumbered by a long shot. Nobody pitied him. Janus was giving him the cold shoulder. Patton was staring at him with such disappointment in his eyes. And Virgil looked ready to kill him. There was nothing Roman could do. No other way to escape.

Slowly, his grip on his cane loosened. Immediately, Virgil snatched it from underneath Roman, causing the dizzy man to stumble. He caught himself, but it was clear that Roman was trembling wildly, not just out of fear, but out of fragility. His vision was going blurry, and it kept blacking out on him. His heart was pumping blood through his body so fast that Roman felt as though he might burst from the inside out.

But he had to walk. He had to escape.

Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other, even though he couldn't tell which way was truly forward. The ground seemed to zig-zag and contort. But Roman closed his eyes, hoping that the lack of vision would help him better figure out how to move in a straight line. It did not. He only felt more unsure. But when he opened his eyes again, he felt his knees give out, and before Roman could get his bearings, he had crashed down onto the bright white carpet of the hallway.

He didn't even hear the thud of his body hitting the ground. But what he did hear was the cruel, barking laughter of Virgil.

"You can't fool me, Roman!" he called out, "That's some good acting, though!"

"Roman, come on, honey," Patton goaded, "Walking is not hard for you. I've seen you do it hundreds of times. No more of this silliness, okay?"

Acting.

Silliness.

Maybe Patton and Virgil were right. Maybe Roman was faking all of this. Slowly, he tried to sit up. His head hurt so badly. A whimper escaped Roman, but he kept going. He had to keep going. He had to get away from the laughter, from the stares.

So he pressed his hands tightly onto one knee, and tried to prop the other upwards. So he could try to stand up. But as his body lifted off the ground, shaking like a fawn's, the walls and the ceiling swirled around him in such a confusing and dizzying haze that Roman fell right back down again. White hot pain burst through the wrist he fell on, and a sickening crack resounded through the hallway.

Roman waited for more laughter and taunting. He waited for more critiques, more chastising. But none came. Only a deep bellow from a voice that was typically so composed that it sounded like a computer.

"Give me the cane, Virgil."

Roman blinked blearily. He was facing away from where Patton, Virgil, and now, Logan, were standing. He could not tell if Logan was mad at him like the others were, but he could hear Logan's quiet footsteps moving towards Roman's shaking body.

"You gonna beat him with it?" Virgil sneered, "I guess I wouldn't expect anything less from Mr. Anger Issues, but maybe Roman deserves it. He's being such a bitch about this whole thing."

"Maybe he needs a little punishment," Patton agreed solemnly, "I'm not a violence guy. You know that, Logan, but- well...Roman isn't listening to us any other way."

Roman froze up for a moment. Was Logan really going to beat him with his cane? There was not a lot of strength left in Roman's body, but what little he had, he used it to curl up tightly, protecting his neck with his hands, and tucking his head between his legs. He held his breath and waited for the first strike.

But none came.

"This is ridiculous," Logan snapped, "Utterly ridiculous."

The logical side leaned down towards Roman, trying to make eye contact. Roman looked up, but everything was foggy and hazy. He could see three Logan's, but at the same time, he couldn't quite make out the details of any of them.

"I'm sorry," Roman mumbled, "'m so sorry...I didn't mean to- to make fun of anyone, honest! I just- I- I just wanted- to- to-"

"Shut up," Logan whispered to Roman, "You're a bit dilated...you hit your head on the floor, didn't you...?"

Roman didn't know what to say. He didn't know what the right answer was. He opened his mouth to try and say something, to try and plead for mercy, but when he did so, a wave of violent nausea passed through his body, and he retched, dry heaving in writhing spasms on the floor. He had not eaten yet, so nothing came out of his body except for a few globs of saliva.

"He's concussed," Logan mumbled to himself, and before Roman could figure out what was happening, he felt himself being lifted into the air by two large and soft arms. Instinctively, Roman leaned against the touch.

"Oh, please," Patton said with a little laugh, "I never knew you as somebody to coddle, Logan. Especially Roman. You've got to know he's faking. In all the years you've known him, have you ever seen him get dizzy?"

Roman whimpered as he waited for Logan to change his mind. To stop with his kindness and drop Roman onto the floor, joining in with Patton and Virgil.

But no.

"I have," Logan snapped, "I have seen it, and if either of you had a speck of intelligence, you would have seen it too. Roman's been compensating his whole life, probably before he was even aware of it. Don't you remember when we were younger? Roman would always cling to the stair rail when going up and down stairs. Ever wonder why? In the kitchen, every single time I've seen Roman in the kitchen, he's leaning against the counter and gripping onto the side of it."

"If all of this is true, then- then why haven't you ever brought it up?" Virgil snapped defensively.

"It's not my business, first of all," Logan shot back, with just as much ferocity, "And second of all, Roman's a stubborn idiot. He would never admit to having a physical problem, especially because of the torture you two are subjecting him to the second he tries to do something about it! If I'd known that you two would react like this if I had a disability, then I would never tell you anything!"

"K- kiddo, that's not what happened," Patton stammered, "You've got it all mixed up! We weren't doing anything akin to torture, that's- that's such a nasty word, and-"

"Yeah? Is it nasty?" Logan asked, "Well then, consider yourselves nasty. You really thought I would beat Roman with his own cane when he's already showing signs of a concussion? He collapsed right in front of you, and you still don't believe him? It's clear that you don't care at all. And the problem is not the disability. The problem is that it's Roman who has it. You call Roman a fake? You're the ones that are faking, pretending that you care about him. If Roman has any sense in his head, then he'll never trust either of you again after today. Though knowing him...he'll likely give you a lot more mercy than you deserve."

And with that, Logan turned on his heels and marched out of the room, carrying Roman and holding his cane tightly. Roman could not speak. He could not move. Everything was fuzzy and far away, like he was being shoved farther and farther towards the center of the world's largest teddy bear. And throughout it all, his head throbbed, each pulse stronger and more agonizing than the last.

"It's alright, Roman," Logan mumbled, setting Roman down on a surface that he recognized as his bed.

Roman blinked and let out a soft noise as he felt his soft red comforter be pulled over his trembling body, and an eye mask be put over his tear-filled eyes.

"Sleep now, Roman," Logan goaded gently, "You need rest. I'll be here with you. Don't be afraid. Just let yourself sleep."

So Roman let himself sleep. And soon, the room was silent, other than Roman's soft snoring echoing off his bedroom walls.

---

When Roman woke up, his head hurt, and so did his wrist. And the very first thing he saw when he took off the eye mask was Logan's face, staring down at him with an immensely worried gaze.

"Hi," Roman said, a bit awkwardly, "What's going on?"

"Seriously...?" Logan asked dryly, "You get your cane stolen from you, you fracture your wrist and get a concussion due to Patton and Virgil's mistreatment, and the very first thing you have to say is hi? What's going on?"

"What am I supposed to do, make a royal proclamation?" Roman quipped softly, groaning as he tried to sit up. "Why did you say all that stuff to Patton and Virgil? Now they'll be mad at you. Besides, they're right. I am faking. This stupid cane was just a way for me to get attention."

Logan glared sharply down at Roman, causing the man to shrink back against his numerous pillows.

"Don't you ever say that again," he snapped, "You are not faking. And you did not make the cane to get attention. Perhaps you were looking for positive attention when it came to the decorative aspect. But you were not using your disability as a ploy or a game. Don't let the others convince you of something that is so nauseatingly untrue."

"Don't talk to me about nausea," Roman mumbled, "I feel like I'll throw up just looking at food."

"Well, that tends to happen when you're concussed," Logan replied, "But don't worry, Remus is coming back as we speak with some medication that should ease that. But we need to talk, if you're feeling up to it. We need to do something important."

"I'm up for important," Roman said, "Anything but more sleep."

"Alright," Logan said, and he picked Roman up, soon setting him down on a strange cot-like appliance.

Roman winced as he felt straps tighten around his form, keeping him tied down to the table. And he did not remember much after that. He just remembered feeling everything tilt up and down, up and down, over and over. Like a hazy, torturous roller coaster. Throughout it, Roman wondered if this was Logan's special way of punishing him. If Logan had been waiting until Roman trusted him to harm him the way Patton and Virgil wanted him to.

But when Logan was finished, he quickly unstrapped Roman, and placed him back onto the bed, waiting a few moments for Roman to reorient himself and feel well enough to listen and speak again.

"I'm sorry about that," Logan said, "But that was a tilt table test. I was monitoring your levels while moving the table, to check a theory I have about you. And I was correct, as I tend to be."

"A theory...?" Roman mumbled blearily, "What theory...?"

"Roman, it looks as if you have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome," Logan said, "Otherwise known as POTS. This is a medical disorder that would explain your, as you describe them, dizzy spells."

"You mean...there really is something...?" Roman asked softly, "I'm not faking it...?"

"Yes," Logan said, "There is something. But even if there wasn't something, you are not and never was faking anything, Roman. Mobility aids are nothing more or less than what they are defined as. Items that aid mobility. It does not matter the medical conditions of who uses them as long as they actually help the person in question. If you were getting dizzy spells and you found that a cane helped you in day-to-day life, then whether or not you have a medical disorder, that is a valid thing you can do."

"But Patton and Virgil said-"

"Patton and Virgil are wrong," Logan said firmly, "And so is Janus. It was abundantly clear that you were not mocking or making fun of anything. You were not playing a prank. They were merely uncomfortable with the idea of you being more fragile than they expected. They didn't want to challenge their preconceived notion that you were some...invincible, endlessly strong caricature."

"Princes are supposed to be strong," Roman murmured, his eyes dimming, "Patton's right. There isn't a single prince who uses a cane."

"You are very strong, Roman," Logan protested, "Regardless of whether or not you have a cane, your physical and mental fortitude are unmatched. Why, I don't know anybody else with so much energy, even in the morning. I don't know anybody else who has the determination to live out each day the way you do. It's...astounding. It's admirable. The cane is inconsequential. All it does is help you. The amount of help you need from an inanimate stick does not determine your strength."

"Thanks, Logan," Roman said after a long moment of bewildered silence, "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"I know we have our qualms," Logan admitted, seeming a bit embarrassed, "But nobody deserves the abuse you endured. The abuse you've been enduring. You shouldn't have to hide your struggles to be treated with respect. I won't agree with you on everything, but...I'll always believe you, Roman, if you come to me with a personal problem. I trust you."

That was the only thing that Roman had wanted to hear in the whole wide world at that moment. By the time the door opened and Remus was there with medicine, Roman was crying, and Logan's eyes were a little bit teary, and Remus was admiring Roman's cane and threatening to light it on fire, the way that siblings tend to.

"I love you both," Roman sobbed, a wide, grateful smile on his face, "Thank you so much. Thank you for believing me."

---

(hee hee. yes i have pots and i am projecting onto roman. hush. also, i will be coming out with a part two on this one if i remember to, so stay tuned for that!)

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pencilpat · 6 months

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I ALMOST FORGOT IT WAS DUKECEIT WEEK I AM FERAL! So! I've queued days 1-3 to post throughout today to make up for the lost time.

@dukeceit-week-2024

Here's day 1: sunflower/ocean! In which a selkie and a farmer care for each other greatly. There won't be a fic every single day but this one called to me. Janus is a harbor seal! The spots were chosen to mimic his scales hehe :)

[1,096 words]

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A boy lies barefoot on the jagged cliff rocks on the beach near his father’s home, listening to the choppy water slap itself onto them and spray him with the scent of salt. This water would drown a man instantly if he tried to swim it, carry him far below the waves to his watery grave. It’s very dangerous a spot. To a man, at least. He is waiting, watching, to see if his visitor will come to him today. As he gazes, far in the distance, he notices a small grey speck against the green of the water, observing him as well.

He sits up with a massive grin splitting his lips, his fingers clutching onto the gift he brought. No matter how much he trusts his visitor, his family has driven into him deeply the knowledge that you must always offer a gift to the fae to stay in their good graces. The grey, speckled coat of his visitor dives back beneath the waves, gone for a moment before surfacing right at the rockface. The seal barks at him, and the boy laughs with delight, waving vigorously. “Hi, hi! You came to see me again!”

The face of the seal splits in an invisible seam, and falls to the sides like a hood to reveal the speckled face of a man. “Hello, farmer boy,” he chirps at him, treading water the rest of the way to the rock before pulling himself up. His reddish hair is soaked through with brine, and he smells of pure ocean, of places that man will never go.

“Janus!” the boy proclaims as he scoots towards him, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder, avoiding his coat entirely. “It’s gotten so cold lately, I thought for certain your kind went out with the seals to warm water, don’t they?” He brushes wind blown hair out of his own face with frustration, to which Janus reaches up and holds his hair back for him with a coy grin.

“I don’t share secrets of migration, Remus. One slip of your tongue and you’d have my kind hunted for sport even in our safest spots.”

Remus pouts at him visibly. “I wouldn’t do that! Don’t be silly!”

Janus laughs, showing off his mouth of very inhuman teeth, made to eat fish and oysters rather than the soft cooked vegetables and meats that Remus’s family consumes. “You’re a human, and they are very bad at slipping up. Both on rocks and with their words. That’s why my kind avoid you, or at least one cause.” Janus’s gaze is caught by something in Remus’s opposite hand, and his dark eyes fixate on the bright colour instantly with barely restrained interest. “What gift did you bring me?”

Remus’s smile widens even more, his eyes raking over Janus’s curious face with fondness. “It’s a flower! You remember the coral you brought me, the bright yellow stuff? This is almost the same colour, isn’t it?”

“It is…” Janus says, greedy hands reaching for it, only for Remus to swipe it away playfully. He jumps up and dances backwards across the rock towards the shore.

“Nope, not getting it that easy, seal boy!~” he shouts teasingly.

Janus lets out an indignant huffing sound and stands, not chasing him outright but obviously following him across the rock and sand. “Farmer, just give me my gift! What is this?”

“We’re playing! Er, I know it’s not exactly how seals play but-“ Remus cuts himself off as Janus's eyes darken and glimmer, a grin breaking his lips apart.

“Oh, playing, huh?” He gets into a hunched pose as if he’s going to charge at Remus. “Get over here and I’ll drown your ass, ‘playing,’ c’mere!” And then he does charge him. Remus shrieks out a delighted laugh and begins running through the shallow water right at the sand, Janus’s sloshing footsteps right behind him. As they get closer and closer, Remus suddenly turns around on him and begins running towards him instead.

Janus yelps, but doesn’t have time to course correct in any way, so Remus catches him and swoops him up into the air in his arms, whooping victoriously and swinging him in a circle as Janus barks at him in surprise. “You idiot, put me down!” he laughs. “I’ll curse your entire bloodline for this, slaoiste!” Janus swears at him, jokingly beating at his back until Remus settles down and just holds him there in place, the two laughing together with locked eyes as the freezing ocean pelts their legs.

Remus sets his companion down again after a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You can have it now, here,” he says, brushing back Janus’s hair and resting the flower on the top of his inhuman ear steadily. “There we go, beautiful.”

Janus smiles at him, a quite genuine one for once, reaching up to touch the petals and finding them to be incredibly delicate. He gazes over Remus sadly, huffing. “I do have to go for winter, to somewhere warmer. I won’t be able to come see you until at least spring.”

“You could stay here, with me! On land? That offer obviously will always stand, you know, right?” Remus tries to mask his sudden engulfing sadness with a hopeful smile, but Janus’s face only falls further.

“I can’t, Remus,” he says, subconsciously clutching on tightly to his coat. He knows Remus wouldn’t steal it by now, but every time Remus asks him to stay, the stories his people tell of the inescapable love spell fill his mind with fear. “I’m not a land creature. I don’t belong here, with you. At least not all of the time.” Janus looks at the ground to avoid the crushed face Remus makes at him. “I’m sorry.”

Remus shakes his head. “No, don’t be, please. I get it, you know?” No one wants me enough to stay forever, no matter what I do, he finishes the thought in his mind. He takes in a deep breath to steady himself. “You promise you’ll be back, in spring?”

“Yes, farmer boy.”

Remus holds up his pinky. Janus tilts his head with confusion, looking him up and down. Remus chuckles. “It’s a pinky promise! We shake pinkies, and that makes it an extra solid promise.”

Janus laughs, but he reaches up and shakes their little fingers together soundly. “Okay, Remus. How silly. It’s a pinky promise.” He releases him, and turns to face the sea, clutching at the hood of his coat. He steps further into the water, breathing in the salt and brine of his home. He can see other seals in the far distance, no doubt someone curious coming to find him. “Well… I have to go.” He looks back to his human, shooting him a sad smile. “I’ll see you again. Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise,” Remus whispers, waving his selkie off with a forlorn smile and eyes as wet as the sea.

#dukeceitweek2024 #dukeceit #janus sanders #remus sanders #selkie au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanart

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edupunkn00b · 6 months

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Fanfic Reblog Party 🥳

In all seriousness (and complaints about our Beloved Hellsite’s ™️ busted excuse for search aside), I’m not seeing a lot of stories on my dash. Like none.

Wonderful writers, please reblog your stories and tag me. Old stories, new stories, links to AO3 or big fancy Tumblr posts, reblog and tag me and I’ll reblog. And then more people can reblog those and…

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part-time-zombie · 2 months

Text

Not Bad

pairings: platonic dukexiety

summary: Virgil liked to sing, but refuses to do so after realizing no one likes hearing him sing. Well, almost no one...

tags: warnings: hurt/comfort, roman is kind of a jerk at the start, remus is a good friend

word count: 1970

A/N: The first part of this takes place before Accepting Anxiety and Virgil's name reveal, so Virgil is referred to as Anxiety at the start.

Anxiety didn’t like showing up for very long, and for good reason. It had been made very clear to him that he wasn’t welcome, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care. He was only doing his job, just like everyone else, and even if they weren’t always on the same page he hoped that they’d at least understand that even if they didn’t respect it.

They sure as hell didn’t respect him, anyway.

He wasn’t trying to bother them this time, he was just hoping to grab a quick bite of food and he’d leave again. By the looks of it, they were all more than fine with that, as they tried their best to ignore him as he quickly slinked into the kitchen in search of a snack.

He had come prepared, of course, with his headphones already blasting his playlist loud enough to drown out even Roman’s own dramatic singing. He always found a way to insult Anxiety when he felt like he was being an issue, and he wasn’t about to hear any of it if he didn’t have to.

He perused the snacks in the kitchen while the others busied themselves in the living room, and it seemed they were actually going to leave him alone this time. Letting himself feel emboldened by the thought, Anxiety took his time, quietly humming along to the music under his breath.

It was one of his favorite songs to listen to, one he’d sing along to on occasion when he was alone. There was just something about it that cheered him up a little, and he always felt better hearing it.

Eventually he found something that looked appetizing enough, and he gingerly walked back to the stairs with his snack in tow, not even aware that he was still humming along.

Roman, meanwhile, was very much aware.

“Geez, Anxiety, if you were gonna make us listen to your edgy music you could’ve at least let the actual band play it,” he teased from his spot on the couch. “Or better yet, let me do the singing around here. At least I’m actually good at it.”

Anxiety whipped around to face him, pulling the headphones down around his shoulders. He had already heard Roman loud and clear, thanks to an unfortunately timed lull in the music, but he was hoping he didn’t properly hear what he thought Roman had just said. “What?”

“I’m just saying, music isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“Roman, be nice,” Patton interrupted, much to Anxiety’s relief.

Roman didn’t listen or let up. “What? I’m just being honest. He’s got a bad singing voice, is all.”

“Technically, there aren’t any ‘bad’ singing voices, only untrained ones,” Logan added.

“Alright, fine, he’s got an ‘untrained’ singing voice, it still sounds bad either way.”

Anxiety felt his face twist into a defensive scowl. It was only humming. He wasn’t even singing any actual lyrics, for crying out loud. Sure, he’s no professional, but Roman didn’t have the right to go and say something like that out of nowhere, especially not when Anxiety and the others have been letting him sing his own lungs out plenty of times.

Then again, that was Roman. He’s the prince, the fan favorite. Anxiety is just… Anxiety. He’s the villain, the problem. Why would they go easy on him? It’s not like they have any reason to, they sure as hell don’t like him. Now they have something else to taunt and torment him about all because he was stupid enough to drop his guard. It just so happens that this something is much more personal to him, and it’s gonna hurt a lot more later on.

It already hurt badly enough now.

Anxiety stormed back upstairs and kept his door firmly shut behind him, turning the music up even louder than before in the hopes that it would drown out the cutting words that had already made their way into his head. The music kept playing, but Anxiety wasn’t singing along anymore.

Virgil slouched at the kitchen table, quietly picking at his cooling breakfast. No one else was in the kitchen with him, much to his relief, as the others had all already finished their food and were busy carrying on with the rest of their morning routines.

Not anymore, never again.

The food was alright, he just wasn’t feeling hungry. Last night had been rather rough for him, and right now all he wanted to do was curl back up in bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Of course, he couldn’t do that. There was plenty of stuff he had to do today, and he knew that if he went back to bed he’d only stress himself out even further about it.

Sighing to himself, he put on his headphones and started up his playlist. It had gone through plenty of changes through the years, with plenty of songs being added and a few dropped, but it still helped him get out of any slump he found himself in, even one as small as this.

He pressed play and let the opening chords of his favorite song fill his ears, already relaxing into the familiar melody as he finished his breakfast.

The music continued to play as he cleaned his finished dishes in the sink, with the playlist eventually landing on Forbidden Fruit. Virgil almost thought to change it, still unsure as to why or how it was even on his playlist to begin with, but he just sighed and let it play out. His hands were still covered in soapy water, and it would be too much of a hassle to dry himself off and fish his phone out of his pocket just to skip one song. Besides, he had to admit it was pretty catchy.

The rhythm worked its way into his head, and Virgil found himself idly humming along as he finished the final dish. He dried his hands on a towel and turned back to the kitchen table, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he saw Remus crouched over it and staring at him with a wide grin.

“Holy shit, Remus, what the hell are you doing?” he gasped, pulling his headphones away from his ears and taking a few deep breaths. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, y’know that?”

“You were singing my song,” he replied, his smile only growing wider.

Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat, and he felt like kicking himself as the realization and shame set in. He had gone and done it again, exposing his dismal lack of talent in another moment of weakness. It’s like he didn’t learn his lesson the first time. “Shit, yeah. Just forget about it, okay? Sorry.”

Remus quirked his head to the side, replacing his grin with a confused pout. “For what?”

Virgil shrugged, only feeling even more awkward. “I dunno, for humming too loudly, I guess. It’s probably pretty annoying, and I bet I only ruined it.”

Remus made a face before jumping from the table. “I don’t think you ruined it. If anything, I’d say you made it better.”

“Yeah, right. That’s just because you’ve got bad taste,” Virgil scoffed.

Remus crossed his arms, expression smug. “If my taste is so bad, why were you singing my song?”

Virgil didn’t have a response to that one.

“Whatever, just leave it alone, alright?” he grumbled, quickly sliding past Remus and out of the kitchen. He wasn’t dealing with this again. Once was enough.

“I can’t just leave it alone,” Remus called after him. “How can I leave it alone when this is the first time I’ve heard you sing in years?”

Virgil stopped and slowly turned to face him. Remus looked sincere, almost concerned. At least, that’s what it looked like, but Remus never feels concerned about anything, least of all Virgil.

“You used to sing all the time back then,” he continued, taking a few steps closer. “It was so awesome hearing you having fun like that, why’d you ever stop?”

Virgil shuffled in place, not looking at Remus. He had heard him? Virgil thought he was safe when he would sing, but Remus was listening this whole time? How much had he overheard before Virgil stopped, and how much did he laugh about with Janus or Roman?

“I didn’t think you’d hear me,” he muttered, nervously fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie. “You don’t need to tell me how stupid it was, I know it sounds bad.”

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment, and Virgil looked up at him to see what was going on. His face was slack with confusion and an unreadable emotion.

“Who told you that?” he asked, voice frighteningly low. “Who convinced you that you shouldn’t sing because they’re too stupid to realize how awesome it is?”

Virgil took a step back, almost repelled by Remus’ stare. “Look, it’s no big deal, alright? I know I suck at singing, it’s just a fact.”

“Hell no,” Remus snapped, stepping forward and forcing the distance between them to close. “I loved listening to you sing, and if someone went and made you feel like shit for it then they’re in for a fucking fight!”

Virgil froze, not only because he was very sure Remus would follow through with his threat even if it would be towards his own brother, but also because of what he had said just before it.

“You… like it when I sing?”

Remus scoffed in disbelief, and Virgil worried for a moment that this was all just another joke.

“Of course I fucking like it! There’s a reason I always let you pick the music, and it wasn’t just because you’ve got awesome taste, which you totally do by the way.” He said with another grin.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, searching Remus’ face for any signs of a lie or trick and finding none. This wasn’t Janus he was talking to after all, it was Remus, and Remus always spoke his mind no matter what was on it. When he said something rude it was because he meant it, but the same goes for if he said anything nice.

“You really mean that?”

Remus gave him another smile. “I don’t know which part you’re talking about, but yeah I did.”

Virgil felt himself returning the smile, albeit more subtly. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t sweat it. I just hope this means you’re gonna start singing again, I really do miss it.”

“You know I’m not the karaoke type.”

Remus shrugged. “Maybe you should be. You’re definitely good enough, if you ask me.”

That’s not exactly what Roman told him back then, but he’s been wrong before. He’s actually been wrong about a lot of things, and really so has Virgil. They both thought that it had to be right vs wrong, but Roman hadn’t always been very good, and right now Remus wasn’t being all that bad.

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at that realization.

“What’s got you laughing like that?” Remus asked, leaning in far too close to get a good look at the grin that was starting to form on Virgil’s face.

“It’s nothing, just thought of something,” he explained, trying and failing to force the smile away.

“And you won’t tell me?”

“Nope. You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

Remus gave him an exaggerated pout, but Virgil just shook his head and headed back upstairs. He adjusted the headphones back over his ears and let the next song play, this time humming along even louder than before.

Singing really was something personal to Virgil, something special. It made him feel more confident and hopeful on his darker days, and if Remus at the very least liked it, then maybe it isn’t that bad.

taglist:

@keitaisghost @rougeside4 @britt-ish123 @new-zee-land @nico-the-overlord @can-i-take-a-stab @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @yuckypuppie

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #ts sides #ts virgil #ts remus #my fics #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic

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ironwoman359 · 15 days

Text

Our Own Villain Ch. 9

Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10

Word Count: 5,570

Chapter Summary: Everything Roman has worked for threatens to crumble around him as Logan puts his plan to save his friends into motion.

Pairings: Logicality, could be read as romantic or platonic, platonic Moxiety

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, guilt, isolation and anger, overworking, fantasy violence, just generally unhealthy thought patterns going on for Roman.

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

AN: IT'S HERE! As always, I cannot post this story without acknowledging the incredible @theinvisiblespoon, who helped me edit this and resulted in over 400 extra words of flavor for this chapter. They're the absolute best! Also, shout out to @teacupfulofstarshine for helping me get over some writers block with a few of these passages, she's an absolute darling <3

— — —

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

The captain of the guard bowed low before Roman, a faint tremor in his posture betraying his nerves.

“I’ve had my men up all night, searching the city from top to bottom,” the captain continued, “but there’s been no sign of the fugitive.”

The man kept his head low, glancing tentatively up at Roman who paced back and forth across the floor of the throne room, arms crossed across his chest. He barely noticed the captain’s discomfort, lost entirely in thought.

Where could Logan be? There was no way he could have left the Imagination, so how had the guards not found him yet? Roman supposed he could have snuck out of the city somehow, but there was nothing for him out there but wilderness, and it was cruel, even for Logan, to run away without even trying to rescue Patton and Virgil. No, he had to be hidden somewhere, somewhere that he thought was clever enough to escape Roman’s notice.

“Keep searching, Captain,” he ordered. “He must be somewhere in the city. Perhaps he has enlisted the help of one of the townspeople and is being kept out of sight. Issue a decree that anyone found to be harboring criminals will face charges of treason. I want every-”

“Your Highness!” a new guard burst into the room, and Roman spun around with a glare.

“What is it now? Are you men so utterly incompetent that you’re incapable of following the most simple of commands? I said that I was not to be disturbed!”

“It’s just, your highness,” the guard stammered, cowering in the face of Roman’s rage. “There’s an attack at the gates–”

“What on earth makes you think I care about the gates right now?” Roman exclaimed. “There is a traitor loose in the city, corrupting the people and conspiring against me. Nothing at the gates could possibly be more important than finding–”

A roar pierced the air, and Roman went rigid, his hand automatically gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Dragon Witch,” he hissed, and the guard nodded frantically.

“She was spotted flying down from the mountains, your highness. The gate guard sent me to warn of her attack.”

Roman slammed his fist down on the table.

“Of course she would strike now, when we are distracted and unprepared. Captain, send criers through the streets to order your men to mobilize at the main gate. And bring me my armor! We must not let her take the city!”

The soldiers scrambled from the room, and for a moment, Roman stood alone. After everything he’d done, everything he’d worked for, he now was faced with this. His oldest and strongest enemy, coming to challenge him when he was at his weakest. Did she think he would simply cave before her might? He was Roman, Prince of the Imagination, Thomas’s Hero, the last bastion of goodness left for the entire mindscape. He wouldn’t be overthrown by a mere construct. He laughed to himself. No one was around to hear it.

The next several minutes were a flurry of activity, and soon Roman was on his horse, his silver breastplate glinting in the first red rays of sunrise poking over the horizon as he cantered through the city streets.

The thought of Logan somehow escaping the city during the battle briefly crossed his mind, but he pushed the idea away. They would find the logical side eventually; after all, there was nowhere for him to run.

Outside the city wall, the Dragon Witch let out another roar, and Roman urged his horse forward, drawing his sword.

Right now, Logan didn’t matter.

What did matter was making sure that his realm did not fall. He was Roman, Creativity, creator of this realm and Prince of the mindscape. He was a hero, the only hero Thomas had left after all the others had fallen prey to the wicked machinations of those accursed Dark Sides.

And nothing, not the others, not the Dragon Witch, nothing, was going to stand in his way.

— — —

Screams rang out through the streets as another of the Dragon Witch’s roars shook the city. Seth pressed himself up against the wall of the alleyway, peering out from behind a corner. The palace drawbridge lowered and Prince Roman and his guards in full armor appeared. The thunder of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone and with the blare of the soldiers’ warhorns echoed all around Seth, and he ducked out of the way as the battalion rode past his hiding spot.

The market was quickly emptying as merchants and shoppers fled the streets, and he intended to take full advantage of the chaos. Now that he had secured a place by the square, he hoped to pilfer enough foodstuffs from the merchants to be set for at least a week. Seth waited until the last terrified shopkeeper had disappeared from sight, then he crept out from the alleyway into the square.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him back into the shadows. He spun with a cry, his fists up in an instant ready to strike, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who had attacked him.

“Maddie?”

“We had a deal, Seth,” the girl said, glaring at him.

“But I saw you…the Arachnids…”

“Show me the servant’s entrance, please,” Maddie interrupted, folding her arms.

“What, now? We’re in the middle of a siege! Come on, let’s comb through the market and see if we can get any–”

“Seth, if you don’t show me that servant’s entrance right now, I will ensure that you spend every waking moment for the rest of your life fighting tooth and nail for that market spot. I said it was yours once you showed me the entrance, and unless you take me right this second–”

“Okay, okay!” Seth said, raising his hands in surrender. “Sheesh, Maddie, what’s gotten into you?”

“It is vitally important that I gain access to the palace. The reason why doesn’t concern you,” Maddie said as Seth led her up the street towards the palace walls.

Luckily, the entire city guard had ridden out to the gates with the Prince to fight the Dragon Witch, and the barred gate where Seth met his contact on the palace staff stood unprotected.

“There’s a door on the other side of the garden that the servants use,” he said, pointing through the courtyard. “Though I don’t know why that would matter to you, it’s not like you could get in. There are easier places to steal food from, especially since the city is under attack right now?”

Maddie didn’t bother answering, she just pushed past him and pulled experimentally on the gate. It was locked and didn’t budge, but she didn’t seem put off by that fact.

“Thank you, Seth. Our deal is complete. The spot by the market is yours. Now, I suggest you take cover; as you so aptly pointed out, the city is under attack.”

“What about you?” Seth asked.

“I have something I need to do,” Maddie answered, pulling a small glass vial from her dress pocket. She uncorked the bottle and poured a few drops of its contents on the gate’s lock, and Seth stared in awe as the metal melted away like ice on a summer’s day.

“Now go,” Maddie ordered. “I’ll explain later…if we ever manage to resolve this whole ordeal.”

Part of Seth wanted to stay and see what on earth the girl was up to, but just then the very sky seemed to explode, bright purple lightning and blue streaks of light flashing all around as the ground shook. Seth became overwhelmed with nausea, and he fell to his knees, retching. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maddie still standing, seemingly unaffected by whatever strange spell had caused the world to fall apart around them. He tried to call out to her, but she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the palace grounds before he could force his mouth to form words.

As soon as it began, the lightning stopped, and after a moment of gasping, Seth regained his bearings. He looked at the open palace gate, but then another roar rang out, and he turned and ran back through the city towards his new market spot. Maybe after he scavenged what food he could, he’d risk the gangs and take cover in the sewers until this was all over. Whatever had Maddie acting all weird, he didn’t want to know about it. He’d have a hard enough time surviving the Red Sun as it was.

The Dragon Witch’s roar echoed through the streets and Seth stumbled as he skidded around a corner.

When would this madness end?

— — —

“Prince Roman!” the Dragon Witch called out, her voice reverberating through the city. “Show yourself and face me!”

She hurled a spell at the city walls, and they buckled and folded beneath the weight of her magic. She stretched out her wings and roared, the very sound of her fury sending a squad of guards who were approaching to draw back in fear. A few of the gate guards tried to stand their ground, but she batted them away easily with a swing of her tail.

Slowly, she stalked into the city, giving the peasants in the streets plenty of time to run screaming from her mighty presence. The slower and more dramatic she was in her approach, the more time it would give Prince Roman to muster his entire guard and ride out to face her.

After a few minutes of her lazy destruction, the sound of battle horns rang out in the distance, and the Dragon Witch smiled. Looking up, she caught sight of Prince Roman’s black and red banner fluttering in the breeze, signaling that her quarry was coming within her grasp.

“Ready, little hero?” she asked quietly. She felt the grip of the human sitting on her back tighten.

“As I’ll ever be,” came the answer, and the Dragon Witch chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured. “Just stick to the script we practiced and you’ll be fine.”

Prince Roman came into view then, and she had to give him credit where it was due. Even in this mindset, when the very fabric of her reality was changed because of his pain and anger and frustration, he was personally leading the charge against her. How many tyrant kings would send their armies out to die in a battle that they wouldn’t dare to risk themselves?

He wants so badly to be good, she thought as the prince stared up at her, his face twisted in a look of disgust. Not just good. Perfect. If only he could see the truth.

“So it comes down to this!” Roman called up in a loud, clear voice. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you capable of this level of betrayal, Logan.”

He spat the name out like it was poison, and the Dragon Witch felt her passenger tense.

You can do this, little hero, she thought. Save us all.

“Prince Roman!” Logan’s voice was firm and unwavering, and the Dragon Witch couldn’t help the small swell of pride she felt at the sound.

“Release your prisoners and surrender, or see your realm destroyed!”

— — —

Roman stared up in disbelief as the Dragon Witch sneered down at him. Of all the possible outcomes, of all the ways that he’d expected a confrontation with the last remaining free Light Side to go, he’d never expected this.

Logan sat on the Dragon Witch’s back, staring down at Roman with a determined expression on his face. He looked almost comical, in his simple polo shirt, tie, and glasses while riding atop such a majestic and mighty beast, but Roman wasn’t in the mood to find humor in the situation.

“Release my prisoners?” Roman repeated. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, we will destroy the realm,” Logan repeated simply.

“If you think that I and my forces won’t be able to defeat the Dragon Witch before she destroys the city, let alone the realm, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

Logan frowned, tilting his head.

“You would risk your entire world’s existence, rather than accept defeat?”

“I’ve not been defeated yet!” Roman shot back. “Besides, I made this world. If it is destroyed, then I will simply make it again. Your threat is meaningless!”

“And the lives of the people living in it?” Logan demanded. “Are they meaningless too?”

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, the world split apart. Purple lightning filled the sky, and he let out a cry of anguish as a wave of emotion slammed into the walls he’d placed up between his realm and Thomas.

There was the same fear and anxiety from Virgil as there had been before, but there was also sadness, doubt, and guilt, manifesting in bright blue flashes throughout the storm. The guilt was somehow even more debilitating than the fear, and as he fought to keep the emotions from reaching Thomas, he could feel his grip on the realm itself slipping.

No… he thought, desperately trying to hold on to his composure. No, no, no…

— — —

It has to be perfect. If it’s not perfect, then I’m just a fraud, I’ve basically been lying to my fans this entire time, and I can’t let that be true, I won’t let them down like that, it has to be perfect.

Thomas let out a gasp as his creative flow slammed to a halt, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.

“It will be good enough,” he said aloud to his empty room, but the swirling thoughts of dread and despair only grew stronger.

But what if it isn’t? What if you’ll never make anything worth watching again and all the sacrifices you’ve made, all the friendships you’ve harmed along the way, all of that will have been for nothing? Your dreams will never come true and your friends will all abandon you. You’ve never really been that good a person anyway, why on earth would they stay? You’ll end up all alone for the rest of your life, and it will be your fault.

“What is going on?”

Thomas started to reach out for his sides, but he wasn’t sure who exactly to summon. Who could be responsible for this type of thinking? He’d never felt like this before, as though his thoughts were being forcibly pulled out of his control, except…

Except for that time when Virgil had ducked out. He hadn’t been as aware of it, but his thoughts had felt just like this: foreign and strange and fully divorced from what he was directly experiencing.

Thomas frowned, and decided that the best thing to do would be to summon all the sides together. He started to reach out with his mind, but before he could contact anyone specific, somebody appeared in the corner of his vision.

Unfortunately, it was the last side he wanted to see.

“Janus?” he asked. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I think you should take a break, Thomas,” Janus said quietly. “Put the laptop away and try to get some rest.”

“What? No,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “I need to keep working on this, it’s my best idea ever. It could completely change the course of my creative career, I just have to get these feelings under control and then I’ll–”

“Thomas,” Janus interrupted sharply. “You’ve been working for fifteen hours straight.”

Thomas glanced at the time on his laptop and was startled to see that Janus was right; it was nearly three in the morning, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d stopped to take a break.

“You need to stop,” Janus said, his voice firm. “Your magnum opus can wait until tomorrow.”

“I guess…” Thomas said slowly. “But what’s going on with the others? I felt…strange, just now.”

“Get some sleep,” Janus said. “If everything goes right, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Thomas frowned, giving Janus a skeptical look.

“Is that my Deceitful side lying to me, or is it the truth?”

“At the end of the day, does that really matter?” Janus asked with a tight smile. “Either way, you need the rest.”

“I suppose,” Thomas said, stifling a yawn even as he spoke.

Janus watched as he closed his laptop and got up, a strange expression on his face. Thomas tried not to pay him much attention, quickly swapping his jeans out for some pajama pants before falling into bed.

“Summon the others tomorrow,” Janus said as Thomas closed his eyes. “By then, they should have things straightened out.”

Thomas was already drifting off, and he felt more than heard Janus’s final words.

“I hope.”

— — —

Roman was losing his control. He looked up, and he could see the imagination around him beginning to crumble away. He noticed bits and pieces from his room, the bright white of his bedspread, the shine of the lights around his mirror, the blood red of his sash where he’d thrown it on the floor. The fantasy around him– his soldiers, his city, the Dragon Witch, even Logan himself– it was all flickering in and out of existence as the mental barrage continued.

“NO!”

Roman stopped trying to channel the emotions away and instead closed his eyes and pushed, forcing his mental walls back up, stronger and better than before.

“You won’t take this from me!”

He opened his eyes, only to see that the outburst of energy had reverted the Dragon Witch into her human form. She stood before him, leaning heavily against her magic staff, Logan now on his hands and knees at her side. Roman drew his sword, pointing it at the pair with a shaking hand.

“You. Can’t. Take this from me!”

Logan’s entire body was trembling, but he looked up and met Roman’s gaze, glaring at him even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You’re insane,” he whispered.

Roman let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

“If you just now figured that out, then you’re…” he trailed off, looking down at the shaking side.

He had begun to fade away as Roman’s control over the imagination loosened, but he was fully solid again now. His breath was ragged and his skin was pale, as though he’d just attempted to run a marathon while running a fever.

“You’re…not part of this realm,” Roman said slowly. “You’re part of Thomas. You shouldn’t have disappeared.”

Logan still looked ill, but at Roman’s words he pushed himself to his feet.

“What was that word he used?” Logan asked, looking over at the Dragon Witch, and a small, triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked back to Roman. “Checkmate.”

Roman’s eyes widened, then the Dragon Witch lashed out suddenly, her staff glowing as she swung it towards him in a wide arc. Roman threw his sword up and blocked her strike, and her spell went ricocheting off through the city.

For a moment, all his attention was on the fight, on blocking and parrying and counter attacking, but he’d sparred with the Dragon Witch dozens of times, in both of her forms. By the third strike from the witch, he’d settled into a familiar rhythm, and turned his attention back to Logan…or what he’d thought was Logan.

“Who are you?” he shrieked. “You can’t be him! He shouldn’t have disappeared! So you must be–”

“Meaningless?” asked a voice he’d never heard before.

Roman pushed the Dragon Witch away and took a step back, staring in disbelief as Logan’s form began to flicker, just like the rest of the imagination had, just like all the other characters Roman had designed to fill his vast fantasy world had done when he was losing his control over the scene. But he was back in control now; this shifting had another cause. He’d barely had enough time to form the thought before the image of Logan was gone.

In his place stood a barefoot girl in a tattered dress, her hair a wild mass of curls and her fists clenched at her sides. She looked somehow…familiar, and Roman tilted his head.

“Do I know you?”

The girl didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He remembered now, for the longer he looked at her the more he recognized where she’d come from. When he’d first created the town surrounding the castle, he’d decided it needed citizens to make it feel more lived in. He’d made soldiers, peasants, shopkeepers, tradesmen and artisans, and then, to make the place more realistic, he’d made a handful of street urchins.

He’d scarcely given the creations any thought after forming them and setting them loose in the city, and why would he? They weren’t meant to be important; the girl had no family, no backstory, no real role to play in his realm. So how on earth had she ended up here, fighting alongside the Dragon Witch and impersonating one of Thomas’s sides?

She looked up at him and he could see fear in her eyes, but there was a quiet strength too. The girl folded her arms and took a step towards him, and the Dragon Witch held out an arm, as if to shield her.

“Careful, little hero,”she murmured, and Roman looked back and forth between the two in disbelief. The girl ignored the witch and took another step, looking up at Roman with a determined expression.

“Like I said,” she repeated. “Checkmate.”

Roman turned and ran, knowing even as he did so that he’d never make it back to the palace in time.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he should have known something was wrong! Why else would the Dragon Witch attack now when she’d never attacked during the Red Sun before? Why else, except to draw him and all his guards away from the palace, leaving the castle vulnerable to an unseen enemy, a more crafty enemy…

A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up as he ran to see the witch in her dragon form flying along above him, the little girl on her back once more. She quickly overtook him, and landed in the market square, spreading her wings out and blocking his path to the castle.

“You’re too late, Prince Roman,” the Dragon Witch declared.

“I’ve defeated you before,” Roman cried, shifting into a fighting stance. “I can defeat you again!”

“You can defeat me all you like,” the Dragon Witch replied, her mocking voice echoing his own inner thoughts. “But you’ll never be able to outsmart him.”

— — —

Logan had no idea what was causing Roman’s realm to fall apart, but he was exceptionally grateful for it.

The few remaining guards inside the castle were too overwhelmed by the effects of their very fabric of reality unraveling around them to notice a small girl running through the corridors searching for the dungeons.

He found the correct door after only a few minutes of searching; Roman’s penchant for the dramatic meant the one door that very obviously looked as though it led to a dungeon did in fact lead to a dungeon, and he pulled the vial of acid the Dragon Witch had given him out of his pocket. Technically, the Dragon Witch had described the liquid inside as a magical potion that would dissolve any substance besides its own container, but the ‘potion’ was functionally identical to a freakishly effective vial of hydrochloric acid.

Tomato, Solanum lycopersicum, Logan thought as he poured a few drops onto the door handle of the dungeon. After a moment of sizzling, the lock dissolved away and he pushed the door open.

The room was dark, faint torchlight flickering ominously off the stone walls. Six cells lined the room, and the two at the end of the row were occupied.

“Patton?” he called. “Virgil?”

The prisoners looked up, and relief flooded through him when he saw their faces.

“Maddie?” Patton cried, jumping to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Who is that?” Virgil whispered to Patton, but Logan ignored the question.

“Not Maddie,” he said breathlessly. “It’s me.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another vial, downing its contents in a single gulp. A strange tingling sensation enveloped his body, and he had to admit that in this case, he didn’t have a scientific explanation for the shapeshifting potion that the Dragon Witch had given him.

“Logan?” Virgil asked in disbelief.

“Watch your hands,” Logan said, stepping forward to pour the remainder of the acid on the locks on their cell doors.

“I knew you’d figure something out,” Patton said, his eyes shining with pride. “I just knew it.”

In a moment, both cells were open, and Patton rushed out, pulling Logan and Virgil both into a bone crushing hug. For once, Logan didn’t think, didn’t analyze or worry, he just wrapped his arms around his friends and let himself slump into them.

They were all safe, and they were all together. For one, shining moment, that was all that mattered.

“Are the two of you alright?” he asked when he eventually pulled back. “You’re not injured, are you?”

Patton shook his head.

“We’re fine, Logan,” he said, and Virgil nodded in agreement.

“My head will be a bit sore for a few days, but I’ll live. What about you? We heard the Dragon Witch attacking…”

“I’m fine,” Logan reassured him. “In fact, the Dragon Witch attack is my own doing.”

“What?” Virgil exclaimed.

“The potion…” Patton said, his eyes widening. “That’s where you got that potion that made you look like Maddie, isn’t it?”

“Technically, the potion made me look like myself, as it was an antidote to the spell that she cast to make me look like Maddie–”

“Hang on, where is Maddie?” Patton interrupted.

“She’s with the Dragon Witch…pretending to be me.” Patton’s jaw dropped open, and Logan grimaced. “I know! I tried to tell her that it would be safer if she stayed behind in the cave, but she insisted. She said that the distraction would hold Roman’s attention for longer if I appeared to be aiding the Dragon Witch directly in her assault.”

“Back up,” Virgil said, holding up his hands. “You let the Dragon Witch cast a spell on you?”

“She is Roman’s biggest villain,” Logan said simply. “Asking her to help us defeat him was the only logical choice left.”

“To be fair,” Patton admitted, “It’s not that much crazier than what we tried to do.”

Logan frowned.

“What you tried to do?”

“We’ll tell you on the way out,” Virgil said. “Right now, we should move, before the guards come back.”

Logan nodded, and the three turned and began making their way out of the dungeon.

“Remember what happened on the bridge?” Patton asked as they climbed the stairs, and Logan nodded. “Well, I had a feeling that it wasn’t Roman who caused it…I thought it might have been Virgil. And it turns out I was right!”

“You caused the Imagination to fall apart?” Logan asked, looking back at Virgil. “How?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’m not exactly sure. I had an overload of anxiety, but something was blocking me from channeling it away the way I normally do.”

“Roman’s cutting off our access to Thomas,” Patton added. “I think that’s also why we can’t sink out. Reach out for him now; you can’t feel him, can you?”

They’d reached the top of the stairs, and Logan paused. Normally, he was at least subconsciously aware of whatever external stimuli Thomas was experiencing, so that he could filter through the information and assist with decision making. He’d been so distracted by the quest to save Virgil and Patton that he hadn’t even noticed the lack of that awareness.

“I can’t,” he said aloud, and Patton nodded.

“I can’t either. Whatever Roman’s done, it’s making him our only access point to Thomas. So we’ve been waiting for the right time to try overloading that access point.”

“When we heard the Dragon Witch attacking, we thought it would be our best shot,” Virgil said. “And for a minute there I thought we would actually do it, but just before we could break through, the wall went back up again. Somehow, Roman was still stronger than the two of us put together.”

“Perhaps…” Logan mused. “But nonetheless, the two of you did have a strong effect on the Imagination. I wonder…would it be successful if all three of us tried to breach that barrier?”

As they spoke, Logan led them outside and through the palace gardens to the servants’ gate in the side of the wall. The three stepped out onto the street, and Virgil looked around hesitantly.

“So…now what?” he asked.

Logan opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a familiar roar sounding from the market square. He grimaced, and looked back at his companions.

“Our original plan was to try and sneak out of the city. But simply escaping from Roman isn’t actually going to solve this problem.”

Patton glanced at Virgil, and at a small tilt of the anxious side’s head, he locked eyes with Logan and nodded.

“You’re right,” he said firmly. “This whole thing happened because we’ve been ignoring this problem. The only way we’re going to bring an end to this is if we confront it head on.”

“Guess we’ll get a chance to test out your hypothesis, Logan,” Virgil added as they hurried towards the square.

“If it comes to that,” Logan agreed. “I do still hope that we’ll be able to use reason with Roman, though after all we’ve done to reach this point, I don’t know if that will be effective.”

“Probably not,” Patton said quietly, and Logan glanced at him.

Patton met his eyes for a moment, and Logan was surprised at the amount of melancholy he saw there. All through their ordeal, Patton had maintained a level of optimism that bordered on recklessness. As much as Logan had found that to be unrealistic, he also had relied on it for strength more than he’d realized. That Roman had somehow managed to dampen that was almost more offensive than the fact that he’d locked Patton and Virgil up.

Before Logan could think of an appropriate response, the trio rounded the corner into the square, then immediately skidded to a halt. Patton let out a gasp and Virgil swore under his breath; all Logan could do was stand there blankly and take in the scene.

Guards in full regalia lined the square, blocking off every possible avenue of escape. The Dragon Witch lay sprawled out on the ground, a deep wound in her side causing her breath to come in quick, pained gasps.

Roman stood over her fallen body, and the red sunlight shining down on his silver breastplate made it look as if he was bathed in blood. His face was twisted in a terrible mix of fury and triumph, and he brandished his sword at his defeated foe, as though daring her to stand and challenge him again.

She was in her dragon form, but as her wound spilled blood down onto the cobblestones, that body fizzled away, revealing the humanoid woman Logan had first met outside her lair. Her robes were torn and bloody and her face was deathly pale, but her eyes still blazed with a defiant fire as she stared up at her opponent.

“Any final words, Witch?” Roman asked in a steely voice.

The Dragon Witch opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a high pitched cry rang out through the square.

“Stay back!”

Maddie darted forward, putting herself between Roman and the witch’s body, gripping Dragon Witch’s staff tightly in both hands. The thing was nearly twice her height and she brandished it clumsily, but Roman still paused in his advance.

“Out of my way, girl,” he said, but Maddie shook her head.

“I said back!” she insisted, shaking the staff towards him.

“Run along now, little hero,” the Dragon Witch coughed, reaching weakly towards the girl as if to pull her back. “Your part is done.”

Maddie shook her head again, and Roman frowned.

“I won’t tell you again. Stand. Down,” he said coldly.

Maddie shifted her feet and gripped the staff more tightly, but she did not move, and Roman sighed, raising his sword.

“Enough!” Logan shouted before he could bring the blade down.

Roman looked up, his eyes flashing with hatred as they landed on his three fellow sides. Logan’s confidence faltered as the full force of that glare landed on him and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not enough? I have no more tricks up my sleeve…if this plan fails, then what are we going to do?

Logan’s racing thoughts were pulled to a stop with a sudden, simple touch. He looked down and saw that Patton had stepped forward and intertwined their fingers. The moral side glanced up at him and nodded, a slight waver in his smile the only sign betraying his own nerves. Virgil stepped up beside them, locking eyes with Logan as he wordlessly took Patton’s other hand. An understanding passed between them, and Logan smiled, giving Patton’s hand an encouraging squeeze. He looked back to the square, and took a deep breath.“Enough, Roman!” he repeated, his voice steady and strong. “This ends now!”

— — —

AN: So I know that LAST time I updated I said I wanted to update the fic more and then almost 5 years passed, but I can say with confidence that THIS YEAR chapter 10 at least will be released, if not the entire end of the fic (I won't actually know whether the conclusion takes one or two chapters to write until I, you know, write it, but it's outlined, I promise). I've been trying to finish this story for so long, and I know it looks like nothing happened between these updates, but rest assured, I thought about this story and how much I wanted to finish it often during these past few years. Thank you so much for being patient with me, and thank you to anyone who still has stuck around to read this, even after all this time. I love each and every one of y'all <3

(If you were on the Our Own Villain taglist, I will be tagging you in a reblog, tagging has changed so much in four years that my taglist copy-paste doesn't even work anymore)

#our own villain #sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #tss fic #tss fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #the dragon witch #tss dragon witch

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 1 month

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Welcome to "Come into the Water" by @annaizscribbling

You won't be coming back out the same person. We were paired together for the @tss-storytime and this story is an absolutely fantastic trip you should go on.

(no reposting/editing/feeding to an AI, etc. be respectful and also go read the fic, thanks! give Anais comments!)

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 3 months

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Your Friendly Neighbourhood Cryptid

Roman is determined to prove that his friend Patton's fears of a spider cryptid in the forest was unfounded, so joined by his best friend (and maybe crush) Janus, he ventures into the forest at night. Surprisingly, the night takes a surprising twist.

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| Ao3 |

Warnings: Spider imagery, slightly creepy, and one slightly suggestive comment right at the end but nothing like, bad.

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word Count: 1336

Notes:

Hello everyone!!

This is a very short little fic for day 2 of @anaroceitweek!! This is for the prompt 'Conspiricy' which makes me think of Cryptids haha, and Cryptid Virgil is very very fun :3

This is a very silly short fic I wrote in one sitting haha - I still really like it though! I hope you do too :3

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“Why are we out here again?” Janus drawled as he pushed back a tree branch with his gloved hand, climbing over a root in the dark. Roman shone his flashlight down so that they could see where they were walking. The forest behind the suburbs where Roman lived was fairly thick and mostly unmanaged, so there weren’t any proper paths to follow.

“You’re the one who chose to come out here with me,” Roman huffed as he climbed down a little ridge, “You didn’t have to be here.”

“Oh certainly not, but seeing your face when Patton is proven right will be worth it I’m sure,” He said with a shrug and a grin as Roman shot a glare behind him at his best friend/maybe crush. It was hard for Roman to see in the darkness, so he wasn’t entirely sure exactly where Janus was, but he was sure that he’d seen the glare.

“Well you’ve wasted your time, then, because I’m right,” He said, hopping onto a boulder and then hopping to another one, “There are no weird creepy horrifying spider cryptids out here in this forest.”

“Careful,” Janus said, making Roman stop just before he walked face first into a giant spider web.

“Oh haha,” Roman said, turning so he could walk around the other side of the tree the web was attached to, “Next you’ll be telling me the spider creature made that.”

“Mhm,” Janus nodded, grinning a little as Roman frowned.

Well… there were certainly a lot of webs in this forest, Roman had never actually come this deep before. He was determined, however, to prove to his friend Patton that there were no scary spider creatures in the forest out to get him. For some reason Janus, who seemed to believe Patton’s theories for whatever reason despite how unfounded they were, had come along as well.

Roman heard something that sounded like a distant clicking and a woosh, as though something had run past. Turning to look in the direction of the sound, however, gained him nothing, even as he swept his flashlight around the clearing they were in. Other than the number of spiderwebs present, he saw nothing, and dismissed it as some kind of woodland creature, maybe a possum, those were creepy as hell.

“I wonder what that was,” Janus said, in a tone that Roman thought sounded incredibly condescending and honestly that was just unnecessary.

Roman shrugged anyway, though, “Probably just a regular, normal forest creature.”

“Mmmhm, if you say so,” Janus shrugged. The clicking sound was back, followed by a soft rumble and another few clicks, Roman whipped around, trying to figure out the source of the sound.

After a long moment of silence, Roman yelped and reeled back a little as his eyes met another pair in the underbrush - a pair with piercing white pupils and softly glowing purple irises - plus black sclera, as if that wasn’t creepy enough already.

“What the fuck…” Roman whispered as he noticed a second, third and fourth pair of the same eyes open, he took a step back and ended up grabbing onto Janus’ arm.

“Hello there,” Janus said, only then did Roman realise he was smirking, “You can come out, he won’t hurt you.”

Roman’s eyes widened as he looked from Janus to the eyes. He wouldn’t hurt it?? He was slightly more worried about the other way around, actually.

In a way that was almost shy, the creature stepped into Roman’s torch beam, making him gasp.

He was humanoid and tall - taller than both Janus and Roman by a long way. Roman thought he must be at least seven foot tall - he had to have been crouching before.

His hair was pitch black, but the texture looked to be curled, almost frizzy. In the light of the torch Roman could see that his skin was mostly a light, pastel purple, through which darker veins could be seen, making his skin look almost like marble, though down his arms his skin got darker and darker - until at his fingertips it was pitch black. His limbs too were oddly proportioned, in a way that looked just ‘off’ to Roman, he looked like a person, he was shaped like a person, but his arms and legs were too long and it gave Roman an odd uncanny feeling as he looked at him. Mostly, though, he was just…. Incredibly intrigued.

“Woah,” Roman said softly, staring wide eyed, “You’re uh… real?”

“Last I checked?” He said, seeming… weirdly nervous as all eight of his eyes blinked. Roman thought he should have probably found it creepy, the cryptid - because that’s the only thing that it could have been (Roman might have been wrong, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud).

“You’re… beautiful,” He said, to the surprise of basically everyone there as he slowly detached from Janus to approach. The spider guy looked shocked as Roman walked up, circling him before stopping to look up at him, “Wow…” He said softly.

“Wh-what?” the creature said, turning his head to track Roman but not fully turning around. Janus was smirking in the background, “Hey - you cut it out, stop smirking at me.”

“I told you he’d like you,” Janus said, sounding very smug. Roman looked back at him.

“You were in on this?” He asked, glaring at him, “You knew?”

Shrugging, Janus walked over, placing a hand on the spider’s arm, “Well I’d hope so, considering we’re dating.”

“You what??”

“Are you gonna be surprised by everything?” The spider guy asked, tilting his head.

“Well- I- yeah, actually, I am!” He said, eyes wide, the cryptid startled a little bit, “I just found out the spider cryptid in the woods is real and apparently dating my best friend!”

“And beautiful, don’t forget that,” Janus hummed, Roman went bright pink.

“I- Oh my god, I’m sorry-” He said, looking between Janus and the thing, “I didn’t mean to hit on your cryptid boyfriend.”

With a snort, Janus shook his head, even the spider was smiling.

“It’s fine,” He said, “And I’m Virgil, by the way - um, if you really want to hit on me you can.”

“What.”

“I mean, I’m just saying, I don’t mind,” He defended, “I mean - it’s fine if not, I know you humans are weird about monogamy sometimes, but-”

“No no no - that’s not the problem,” Roman said, raising his hands, he was perfectly happy with polyamory, he’d experimented with it before in a relationship and found it appealed to him (though the lack of communication in that particular relationship had put him off a while)

“I’m okay with it too,” Janus said, “If that’s the problem, you are… fine.”

“That’s Janus talk for ‘I like you’,” Virgil translated, making both Janus and Roman turn beet red.

“So, wait,” Roman said, putting up his hands, “Let me figure this out.”

Both of them nodded.

“So you,” He gestured to Virgil, “Are a spider cryptid who lives out here in the woods?”

“Mhm,”

“And you,” He gestures to Janus, “Are dating him?”

“Yes,” Janus nodded.

“So…. was this whale thing just a ploy to get me out here?”

“Potentially,” Janus smirked, Roman groaned, “Well - Patton’s fears are very real, of course, and him asking you for help was simply convenient, so I talked to Virgil about it - because normally you wouldn’t have found anything.”

“He told me he had a really cute friend he thought I’d like who was coming out ‘cryptid hunting’ in the forest tonight so I agreed to actually show up.”

“And?” Roman asked.

“And…?”

“And… do you like me?” Roman asked, leaning forward a little, Virgil smirked.

“Yeah,” He said with a shrug, “I believe so, do… you like me? Janus said you would.”

Smirking, Roman nodded, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do - but uh… I’ve never dated a cryptid before…”

“Oh trust me, it’s a lot of fun,” Janus grinned, making Virgil blush a deeper, richer purple colour. Roman giggled.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #ts roman #ts virgil #ts janus #anaroceit #ts anaroceit #anaroceitweek2024 #sanders sides fanfic #rowans writings #ts fanfic #tss fanfic #sasi fanfic

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oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat · 3 months

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I know I got no choice, got no choice, but to love myself

Please let me know if you want to be added on or taken off the taglist!

Pairing: Intrulogical

Warnings: violent thoughts, violent imagery, intrusive thoughts, insecurity

Description: Logan admires Remus’ consistent love for himself. Remus doesn’t think it matters. It’s not like he had a choice.

Extra: the title is from the song Reaper Man by Mother Mother. It's a Remus song and I will die on that hill.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[fic under the cut]

In the late hours of the night, Logan and Remus lay together on the edges of falling asleep. Both dressed in cozy pajamas, under warm blankets and covers. They drift into a calm atmosphere with each other. It’s been a long day for the both of them, and resting with one another is just the thing they need. Curtains are drawn to let in soft moonlight from windows that peek into a nightscape in the Imagination. An idea Roman had, and one Remus helped install into every bedroom in the Mindscape. It’s peaceful and quiet, though both of them remain somewhat awake in each other’s arms.

“Cephy,” a quiet, sleepy voice calls.

Remus’ own sleepy voice hums in response, content as the first runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m not one to be sentimental,” a sleepy Logan starts, only for Remus to snort at him. “But, I do admire your consistent strive to love yourself. It’s wonderful to witness.”

At that, Remus turns his head to Logan, eyebrows furrowed. Logan moves his hand with him, keeping up the gentle and calm gesturing of running it through his partner’s hair. The small bits of confusion across his face confuse Logan.

“You...you what?” Remus mutters.

Logan gives a soft smile, “I admire your sense of self-love. You have this strength to just love all these parts of yourself, even if certain others don’t. I admire it.”

Remus can only scoff. Logan’s face shifts from soft fondness to worry, and his hand in Remus’ hair stills. Remus noticeably tenses, eyes darting away from his companion.

“Cephy,” Logan calls again, his hand moving to cup Remus’ cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Remus doesn’t look at him.

“Nothin’, nerd,” he answers quietly.

“Hey, if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me. I will listen,” Logan thumbs Remus’ cheek soothingly, and Remus has to close his eyes before he dares to melt from a simple gesture.

“I know. You’d—you listen, I know.”

“Then what’s the matter, dear?”

“There ain’t anythin’. That’s the thing, it don’t matter. It’s just somethin’ I have to do.”

“I...I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Remus sighs, “‘Course, ya don’t.”

He winces. It wasn’t meant to be that sharp. He doesn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it.

He’s trying to be there for you, and all you can do is fuck it up! Rude, rude child. Fuck-up. Stupid little rat man.

Logan is patient. A hand still thumbing his cheek, still keeping him steady and here, still warm against his face. Logan’s listening. He always listens, and, yeah, it’s a whole lot fucking better than not being listened to. God, why must he be so fucking observant? Why can’t Thomathy have a stupider Logic that doesn’t care about shit? Fuck you, Thommy Salami. Fuck you and your stupidly sweet Logic who cares and worries.

“You said you like how I love myself,” Remus continues, rubbing his cheek against Logan’s palm apologetically as he opens his eyes. “It ain’t somethin’ that matters. I kinda have to do it.”

Logan sits up a little, bringing Remus with him. He cups his face with both hands now, a sadly withdrawn expression in his cephalopod's stark red eyes. Remus looks at him, shrugging, as they sit there. He nearly closes his eyes again as Logan thumbs both cheeks now, soft and warm and grounding.

“What do you mean by ‘you have to do it’, Cephy?”

Remus furrows his brows, giving him an of course, I do look.

“What do you mean when you say ‘it doesn’t matter’?” Logan tries.

“‘Cause it don’t? What else would I mean, Professor Dork?” Remus says nonchalantly.

“How could loving yourself not matter? It’s important.”

Remus makes a noncommittal noise, shrugging again.

“It matters, my dear. Of course, it matters. You’re important, and you loving yourself always matters,” Logan insists.

Remus searches for the lie, his eyes gazing intensely into Logan’s beautiful grey and indigo. C’mon, he lives with Jannie of all Sides, he’s learned not to take anything at face value. Sure, yeah, JanJan doesn’t always speak in deception and threads of yellow, but living with that guy teaches you how to twist through what’s said and what’s meant.

After not finding anything for a good few minutes, Remus slumps. There’s an odd silence that makes him itch to scream, so the silence can’t cut his throat out. He doesn’t like the silence.

I wonder how silence could cut your throat. With a dagger? Like wind so sharp it cuts through wood? Would it sting? Would it bleed like a waterfall and stain Logan’s carpet? Blood’s hard to get out. You shouldn’t make such a mess, you stupid fucking bastard. Bad, bad, bad.

Logan plants a gentle kiss to Remus’ nose that pushes out a soft whine from the Duke, his eyes closing again as his skin tries to savor the affection. It sends delightful tingles that his mind doesn’t comment on.

“Why do you think you have to love yourself, Cephy?” Logan asks, a serious tone bleeding through his tongue.

“I, um…” Remus doesn’t want to open his eyes, but he forces them open to focus and shifts them away from Logan. “Who else would fuckin’ love me?”

Logan’s breath hitches, heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest.

“What?” is all he can utter.

“I’ve gotta do it ‘cause no one else will. ‘S not like ‘m wanted much by everyone, anyway,” Remus continues, unaware of the horribly bare concern that washes over his nerd’s face. “I ain’t got a choice, Lolo.”

He looks back at Logan, and a worried noise slips from his lips. Logan’s mouth is slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed, and looks every bit ready to cry.

“Lolo—”

“You, you’re...Remus,” Logan will cry any second now, and it’s Remus’ fault.

Remus squirms under the whimper of his own name, a small flinch shuddering his body. Logan doesn’t call him by name anymore. He calls him ‘dear’ or ‘Cephy or sweet little nicknames that he’d never admit were sentimental. He doesn’t—he doesn’t call him ‘Remus’ unless someone fucked up or it’s really serious. Did he fuck up? Oh, he fucked up, didn’t he? He fucks up a lot of things, but Logan is the one thing, the someone, he doesn’t wanna fuck up. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to fuck up.

“Hey, hey, shh. I’m not mad,” Logan’s voice cracks near the end as he tries to reassure his boyfriend. “It’s okay, Cephy.”

The return of an endearing nickname eases Remus, and he pushes his face out of Logan’s hands and into his chest. Logan moves to hold him properly, helping him to lay his head in the crook of his neck. Logan’s arms hold him tight, and he pulls Remus securely into his lap. Remus snuggles into his companion, chasing the nearly overwhelming warmth from being held. He shivers, and Logan wraps a blanket around them.

“You’re loved, Remus. Of course, you’re loved. I care about you, and–and—” Logan mutters into Remus’ smelly hair, not giving a flying fuck. “Janus cares about you, too. He likes taking care of you. And Roman’s missed you.”

Remus separates his nose from the crook of Logan’s neck, head sharply turning up to look at him. He can’t stop the look of utter disbelief echoing in his eyes, nor can he stop himself from scoffing again. Roman’s not...why would he miss him? He said he didn’t like him! You’re not supposed to miss the people you don’t like, right? How’s that supposed to work? He said he didn’t like him, and it’s not like he’s tried spending time with him much. Of course, he doesn’t miss him. Remus misses him...but that’s him, and not Roman, because he isn’t Roman and Roman isn’t him and Roman doesn’t want to be anything like him. He doesn’t miss him! He doesn’t...he—he—

“He’s—Ro what?” Remus stammers.

“Roman misses you. He told me himself that he misses you but doesn’t know how to connect with you because it’s been so long. He cares, Cephy,” Logan explains, uttering quietly as they’re both caught up in emotions.

“No. No, he don’t. He said he don’t like me, how could he miss me? That’s not—no—”

“Cephy, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. ‘Cause if he misses me, then why won’t he try? He should know—he should...he’s not...I…”

Remus buries himself back into Logan, as if he were trying to burrow into his chest like a little mole. Logan holds him tighter, engulfing him, protecting him.

“You’re loved, my dear. You’re loved, I promise, you are. You’ve got people who care about you. You don’t have to depend on only yourself to feel loved and wanted. It’s okay, Cephy, I’ve got you,” Logan mumbles into Remus' head of messy hair.

“I don’t—I dunno if I can believe you, Lolo…”

“That’s okay, little fry. I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

“Even if I do?” Remus’ voice is small.

“Even then,” Logan’s voice is wet.

A few, tiny tracks of tears flow down Logan’s face and hit Remus’ head. Remus glances up, wiping away his companion’s tears and not giving a shit about the grossness of crying. He wraps his own arms around Logan, clinging to him as his nerd does the same. They slowly lay each other down—the blanket coming with them, warm and soft—and Logan pulls the cover back over them.

It’s late in the night as Logan and Remus lay together on the edges of tearful slumber and comforting embraces. Both remain dressed in cozy pajamas, under their warm blankets and covers. They drift deep into each other, burying their bodies together. It’s been a long day, and an emotional night for them both. Curtains are drawn to let in soft moonlight, the Imagination sending in calm breezes through the windows. It’s peaceful and quiet as they cuddle there, ready to sleep, ready to gentle each other’s worries away. It’s there Remus realizes he isn’t alone, he’s wanted and loved. It’s there Logan holds on tightly to his love, trying so desperately for his fondness and care for his companion to be felt through how he holds him. It’s there they let silent tears fall and quiet hearts heal.

It’s there, in the middle of the night, that Remus starts to feel wanted by someone who isn’t him.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

#read the warnings pls #intrulogical #are they romantic? are they just unlabelled partners? who knows! I certainly don't.#logan sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #fluffy hurt/comfort #emotional Logan bc I say so <3 #short #oneshot #short oneshot #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #it's been almost two months since I posted a fic holy shit

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pattons-second-cookie-v2 · 8 days

Text

Relationship Map for The Blood That Binds- A Sanders Sides X Vampire the Masquerade AU

There's a title now!!! From now on, posts under this project be titled and tagged with The Blood That Binds.

2 weeks ago I posted a poll asking if people would like to see Character Profiles or a Relationship Map first. The results showed a majority rule for the Relationship Map, which I am sharing today! But! I will be uploading the Character Profiles as well some time between now and the publishing of Chapter 1 (which I do still plan to release on Halloween).

Anyway, I've rambled enough- HERE'S THE MAP

So I know this is an absolute mess to look at so let me further explain how it's set up. Each character has their own color (I am aware of the shade similarity between Patton/Logan and Roman/Thomas but I genuinely couldn't think what other colors to use). The symbols next to most characters are their Clan Symbol- which I will further explain in the Character Profiles.

Characters connected by solid lines have interacted directly at least once. Characters connected by arrows have not interacted, but will interact in the beginnings of the tale. Below the cut, I've included some further explanations of the relationships.

Patton and Virgil

This is the dynamic that made me want to write this story in the first place. In this AU, Patton is Virgil's biological father. Through a misfortune that will be explained later on, Patton became a vampire when Virgil was still a baby (late 90s). Virgil grew up in the city believing his father to have passed away, all while Patton has been silently observing him from the shadows. At the time where our story takes place, Virgil has returned to the city after a little over 6 years away. And Patton is going to have a totally normal and rational reaction to seeing his son again.

Roman and Thomas

I knew I wanted to toy around with the supernatural power dynamic of a Sire Bond. And I knew I wanted Thomas specifically to be someone's Sire. In the context of the story, Roman was once Thomas' love, and was given the gift of immortality as a means to stay together forever. Thomas himself was still quite new to vampirism, and he quickly grew to regret making Roman. In the modern day, Roman is more like a lackey to Thomas. Following his beck and call in hopes of earning his favor once again. It has been over 70 years, and still Roman very much has the desperate hero vibes about him.

Roman and Virgil

Roman has spotted Virgil, and where the story picks up, he's beginning to close in. The only issue is he can't decide what exactly he'll do once he gets close to Virgil. He could make him a mindless Blood Slave. He could string him out as a forlorn lover. He could recruit him to his vampiric faction, as either a Bonded Ghoul or a fledgling vampire. His decision will drastically reform the dynamics of all those around him. But he's a little too lovestruck to realize the potential damage he could cause.

Logan and Patton

A healthy relationship?? In my toxic vampire romance? Yes, actually. Logan found Patton as a terrified fledgling who'd been abandoned by his Sire. Having roughly two decades of vampiric knowledge to rely on, Logan was quick to lend his talents to guide Patton. It became rather apparent that Patton did not take well to vampirism, and Logan's levelheadedness eased him into his new existence. In the modern nights, the two are inseparable. This is mostly at Patton's request, as he begins to grow paranoid in Logan's absence.

Janus and Remus

Janus is power-hungry and Remus is easily controlled. Janus has a few years of seniority over Remus, which he is quick to remind him of. Remus is also the only character who is beginning the story already Blood Bound. He has been Janus' thrall for since the 80s, and after spending over 30 years unbound, he just feels grateful to be noticed. He thinks being close to Janus gets him closer to Roman gets him closer to the command and power he truly craves. He views his Bond as a necessary evil. Janus views it as a means of controlling a scary guard dog.

Janus and Thomas

These two are both members of the Inner Circle, a sort of Sect within the Sect of the Camarilla. Those in the Inner Circle often interact directly with the Prince of the city (or whoever is in command) as well as following out any jurisdiction placed by the Prince. Janus and Thomas entered the Camarilla at roughly the same time, as well as being welcomed to the Inner Circle during the same night of Elysium. Their specific roles within the inner circle will be explained later.

Janus has always viewed Thomas as a potential adversary, believing that their power and influence combined could be immensely beneficial to the Camarilla. Thomas, on the other hand, is extremely jealous of Janus. He believes that their parallel rise to power is building up to an ultimate showdown where one of them will be forced to overtake the other. And he does not intend for Janus to have the advantage.

Remus and Logan

Remus has a 20 year advantage on Logan. At the time of their meeting, they were both strays who were not bound to any vampiric Sect. Remus viewed Logan as a fellow outcast, someone with skill and poise that could prove a useful asset in his major goals. Logan viewed himself as superior to Remus, believing his pragmatic approach to vampirism made him more appealing. They had a messy breakup, to put it lightly, and neither of them have made any attempt to reconnect.

Roman and Remus

These two are still canonically twin brothers. There's a lot to explain, which I will cover in better detail in each of their Character Profiles. But to summarize here: Roman became a vampire first, and has believed Remus to have passed away after being deployed during WWII. However, Remus did return home after the war, and had heard whispers of his brother joining a "secret society". Efforts to find Roman ultimately lead to Remus becoming a vampire himself. Rather than wallow over what had become his fate, Remus has instead spent the last few decades working to use his abilities as a means of finding Roman and taking all that he is.

Characters who have NOT interacted together!

Patton and Roman

Logan and Roman

Logan and Janus

Janus and Patton

Janus and Roman

Remus and Patton

Remus and Thomas

Logan and Thomas

Virgil and EVERYBODY

I believe that covers everything for now. My goal is to have a Character Profile posted every Friday between now and Halloween, and then posting Chapter One on Halloween as a way to enjoy the spooky evening. As always, if you wish to be tagged in this project, reply on this post or send me a DM.

Tag List: @sethlost @thearomanticsnake

Above board for a moment, I do want to thank everyone who has been encouraging this story. It's been a long while since I've written any major works, and I'm really excited to be worldbuilding again. So just- thanks for the kind words and the sharing and the support. Its really means a lot <3

-🍪

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8-bit-fanfic · 5 months

Note

004. a dark bus stop lit only by street lights

trigger warnings: angst, ambiguous ending

They were headed in opposite directions, waiting on different busses. Remus sat with a backpack full of his things at his feet, Janus stood under the rain to let it catch on his beanie. It was getting soaked.

There was one streetlight that worked here, just one, and it was somewhat close to the bus stop. It gave Remus the creeps, but Janus didn’t seem scared.

“Say, where did you say you’re going again?” Remus asked loudly.

Janus glanced at him. “Seattle. You?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Can I come with you to Seattle?”

Janus laughed. Remus deflated and looked down. There goes that. But Janus seemed to realize Remus wasn’t kidding, and he came to kneel in front of Remus.

“How old are you, kid?”

“I’m twenty two,” he said in annoyance.

“Sorry,” he laughed. “You kind of look like a teenager.”

“Well, how old are you?”

“Twenty nine.”

Remus looked away. “I can’t go with you, anyway. People would think you’ve kidnapped me if I look like a teenager.”

“Or they’d just think I’m your older brother,” he said again.

The thought of Roman sent daggers in Remus’ stomach. He nearly doubled over. “Yeah,” he said weakly.

Janus reached out a hand. Remus took it, and stood. As the bus pulled in, Remus boarded, leaving his bag behind.

He didn’t want it anymore.

#platonic dukeceit #dukeceit #janus sanders #remus sanders #gray writing #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #remus angst #hurt/comfort

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delimeful · 1 year

Text

helpless (7)

warnings: restraints, blood and injury, unethical treatment, spider mention/drider, misunderstandings, cannibalism mentions, kidnapping, lmk if i missed any

Janus managed to bite three different people before they finally pinned him in one place long enough to force the makeshift muzzle over his head.

He didn’t regret it, persay, but the little victory would have been far more gratifying if he hadn’t gotten his head slammed into a wall hard enough to make him see stars right afterwards.

If it weren’t for the cobbled-together gag, he would have started swearing. It was already extremely unlikely that he’d make it out of this particular clusterfuck unscathed, and seeing double certainly wasn’t going to improve his odds.

At least he’d ruined a few lives on his way out, he reflected as they hauled him up and out the door of the decrepit barn at the edge of town. His curse wasn’t useful for much, but he’d made the most of his venom and its ‘truth-telling’ properties no matter where he went.

The ones he’d bitten would be spilling their guts for the better part of a day, and he was more than sure that they’d be dropping some unpleasant secrets. If he was lucky, they’d be forced to regurgitate his little vigilante scheme to someone in town who’d see it for the idiocy it was.

Well, no. If he was actually lucky, he’d miraculously wiggle his way out of a painful and messy death. Getting his tormentors punished was more of a pleasant afterthought in the luck department.

He was unimaginably pissed that of all the plots against him, this was the one he hadn’t seen coming.

Sure, in retrospect, the dragon that used to demand tribute from the town had clearly had a bigger impact on the older populace than he’d first assumed. He’d been wary about settling there for a while, what with the scales and the eye and the other dragon-adjacent traits, but nobody had given him more than the usual level of confusion and distaste, and some people had been outright friendly.

How was he supposed to know that opinion would suddenly shift because something as generally positive as a rescued child?

He hadn’t even been involved with the whole situation!

Sure, he’d felt the overwhelming dread in the air when the child of one of the town’s governing members had disappeared. He’d breathed in a sigh of relief the same as everyone else when she’d been miraculously returned barely a day later. He’d even heard a fair number of the rumors recounting the stories she’d told about the creature in the woods that had helped her.

Strange, and definitely a reason to keep an eye on those woods, but the ordeal had nothing to do with him, and he’d thought it was over.

Except, according to his oh-so-gracious captors, that wasn’t the end of it. No supernatural presence came without strings attached, and with the rescue of one that could (at a stretch) be called an heir, they were convinced that the town would be called on to repay the debt.

So they’d decided that rather than wait for a monster to come claim a resident and steal them away in a week or two, they would choose the payment themselves. At that point, it was only a matter of picking someone they could afford to lose. Unsurprisingly, they settled on the cursed foreigner with the bad attitude.

Janus had had his humanity doubted his entire life, and now he’d been forced into the role of human sacrifice. He imagined he would have appreciated the irony more if it weren’t at his own expense.

His only balm was the fact that this clearly wasn’t a unanimous decision, going by the cloak-and-dagger way he’d been abducted and dragged out of town. He liked a fair few of his neighbors at this point, and he would have hated to find out that in addition to his imminent demise, he was also a horrible judge of character.

His attention snapped back to the unfortunate situation at hand as his captors slowed to a stop. They had reached a small, man-made clearing a little ways into the woods, with a tall, worn post driven deep into the earth. The wood was stained and the ground indented in strange places, as though the dragon and a bloody sacrifice had departed only hours ago, instead of years.

A shudder ran through the idiot on his left, clearly remembering something about the horrors that had taken place here. As someone who was about to become a horror taking place here, Janus found himself utterly unable to dredge up any sympathy for him.

In fact, he abruptly decided that the hypocrisy had earned his captor a knee to the groin, in the name of him getting the hell out of here.

The person on his other side must’ve been the keener sort, because their reflexes were much sharper.

One very short escape attempt later, Janus was firmly tied to the post, now with a spattering of heavy bruising all along his ribs in addition to his probable concussion.

To add insult to injury– or rather, injury to injury, they’d bid him farewell with a gash sliced into the front of his lower leg, relatively shallow but easily deep enough for blood to start seeping into his pants.

Fantastic. More obstacles to him getting out of this, exactly what he needed.

He tried not to dwell on his own helplessness, but it was everywhere he looked. He’d been stripped of his work belt and all the tools on it. He couldn’t make them doubt themselves with any well-placed remarks. He couldn’t even glare at their retreating backs without sending a new spike of pain through his throbbing skull.

A glance at the post was enough to dispel any hopes he’d had of physically breaking free; it was covered in various scratches and scrapes from previous victims, and there was no sign that any of them had gotten anywhere close to damaging it.

He tenderly leaned his head back against the wood and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a way out. Trying not to let the creeping fear overwhelm his irritation.

A distant rustle made his head snap up with a painful jolt, scanning the treeline for a long moment, body drawn as taut as a bowstring.

Nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway.

Janus hissed lowly against the cloth of the gag, ignoring the way his hands had started shaking from where they were pinned behind his back.

It was going to be a long night.

—

Virgil was doing some early-morning web maintenance when he found them.

Or more accurately, stumbled across them. He regularly cut across this part of the forest to avoid running into anyone in the grove of fruit trees that the nearby town liked to harvest from, and he’d already been halfway across the clearing when the scent of blood hit him.

He stopped dead, shuffling his legs slightly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and then turned to actually look over the open space with a growing sense of dread.

Oh. The weird wooden pole driven into the center of the clearing now had a human tied to it. One that was staring directly at him.

… How many times was this going to happen to him?!

Not the thing to focus on, right now. Virgil took a deep breath, forcing himself to assess his latest mess instead of cursing whatever deity had apparently thought it funny to put him in situations like this.

The human was on the shorter side, with disheveled blonde hair, mismatched eyes, and a startling pattern of greenish-gold scales along one side of their face. Their clothes were meticulously embroidered, though Virgil couldn’t make out the patterns through the extensive amount of ropes binding them to the wooden pole. As though those weren’t bad enough, there was a strange haphazard gag tied around their head, preventing them from speaking.

Clearly, they had been brought here against their will. Not unscathed, either. Their legs were stretched out in front of them, and though their pants were black, one pant leg was torn and glinting wetly with what was almost certainly blood.

The sight was enough to jolt Virgil into action, and he turned to actually face the stranger, skittering forward a few steps–

They recoiled harshly enough to bang the back of their head against the wood, and made a low, panicked sound of pain.

Virgil froze, his chest growing tight at the way they were watching him. Their eyes flicked over every inch of him like a cornered deer, their chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

This wasn’t one of his humans. This was a stranger that had been left to an uncertain fate, now faced with a monster. They were terrified.

“Hey, I– I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. He crept forward, slower now, with his hands raised in the human version of nonaggression. He tilted one down to gesture at their wound. “I don’t know how you got here, but that leg looks pretty bad.”

The stranger dragged both legs up to tuck their knees against their chest, curling into a defensive ball with a glare that screamed ‘back-off-don’t-touch-me’. The injured leg was visibly shaking with the strain.

“No, look– hey. I promise I’m not going to kill you or eat you or anything,” he tried, attempting to meet their eyes directly. He crept forward a few more steps. “I know that might be hard to believe with the whole giant spider thing but I’m very firmly anti-cannibalism. Even if it’s technically like, only partial cannibalism.”

That… actually didn’t sound super reassuring, out loud. Virgil winced, resisting the urge to groan. Why had he decided to start using words like ‘cannibalism’?

He really should just call it quits and go get one of the others. After all these years of avoiding contact to avoid scaring the life out of people, he finally had friends that could help him out of awkward situations like these.

Except… the thought of turning around and leaving the stranger like this, bound and helpless while those who did it to them were presumably still running around…

It would only be for a little while. Just until he could poke Patton awake and lead him back here. But a lot could happen in a little while.

The stranger was studying him with a little less mindless panic, now, but he could see the fine tremors running through their frame. It was probably from fear, or pain, or even… cold?

This close, he could see that their clothes were actually pretty damp everywhere, which was odd. The dirt was hard packed under them, no dew-covered grass in reach, and Virgil had been out and about for most of the night. It hadn’t rained this morning, only late… last night…

“Holy shit, you’ve been out here all night,” he said, horrified. “Bleeding!”

The stranger blinked at him with a level of mild disorientation that Virgil probably should have picked up on earlier.

Okay. Forget trying to coax them into letting him close enough to undo the binds and lead them back to town. The stranger was getting help whether they liked it or not.

Scurrying around the post, Virgil pulled his dagger and slit the restraints in one smooth movement, and then immediately swept in and plucked the human off the ground, lifting them up with the practiced strength of someone who regularly caught humans flinging themselves in his direction.

They responded with a distinctly-upset muffled protest, and a well-aimed kick to the gut.

“Don’t kick me with your injured leg, are you stupid?!” Virgil demanded through a wheeze, holding them out a little farther and twisting away from a second, much weaker kick. “Stop that!”

Deciding that making sure they didn’t bleed out took priority over trying to calm them down, he pulled some silk and wrapped it around the wound as best he could.

The stranger made a gargled hiss through the gag. Virgil hissed back absently, sticking the end of the webbing in place and deeming it a good enough placeholder bandage.

He readjusted so that he was carrying them more securely, an arm under their back and another wrapped around the crook of their knees, and hurried off towards the slowly-growing campsite where his humans were sleeping.

This was now officially an abduction; hopefully Roman wouldn’t get stabby about it.

#sanders sides fanfic #drider au #ts virgil #ts janus #helpless #my writing #writing

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tss-whumper · 1 month

Note

I keep thinking about touch-starved whumpee Roman and caretaker Logan. Roman knows Logan doesn't like touch much, but then Logan hugs him after realizing Roman's touch-starved, and...Roman kinda breaks. Logan is steady and precise, and Roman is so so cold and confused and never wants to leave.

Anyway, no pressure to write this! (/gen)

I love how you write Patton & Roman bc it feels accurate to me, lol. Haven't been here in a while, but wanted to see how you were doing. Glad I returned to read some of your awesome fics!

Take care :D (/pos)

aww, thank you so much for all the kind words, anon!! i really appreciate the support. this idea looks amazing, and i'd love to write something with it. i hope this is what you were looking for!

---

Roman was cold.

He wasn't quite sure why. This had been happening for a few weeks now, Roman woke up and was cold. He ate breakfast and was cold. He even was cold while taking his hour-long hot showers. No matter what he did, he always felt like he was freezing from the inside out. It had only just recently gotten to the point where he was shivering every moment of the day, his teeth chattering whenever he was not talking.

And that was why Roman was where he was now: wrapped in a blanket, on the couch, in front of the fireplace. While all of the other sides were wearing tank tops and shorts, Roman was secretly wearing pajama pants underneath a second pair of pajama pants.

Roman was focusing on keeping warm, but the sound of arguing started to emerge from the hallway into the living room, causing the creative side to carefully listen in, as he tended to do.

"Patton, I don't want a hug. Get off me."

Logan was clearly losing his patience with the overly-affectionate side, and Roman watched from the couch as Logan's muscles tensed and his breathing grew more labored. It was not a secret that the logical side generally disliked physical touch, especially when he was not the one initiating it. The only thing he hated more than physical touch was not being listened to.

"Oh, Logan, stop being such a sourpuss!" Patton chided, "I'm just showin' my favorite logical guy some love! Hug me back, and then I'll let you go!"

Logan rolled his eyes, and they flashed with irritation as he reluctantly hugged Patton back. The paternal side squealed and let go of Logan, skipping out of the room to likely do the same surprise bear hug to Virgil that he had subjected Logan to.

Roman huffed softly from his spot on the couch. Once again, Patton hadn't even noticed that he was in the room. Recently, it had been like that more and more. Patton gave all his attention to all the other sides, but when Roman was around, he awkwardly shuffled away. Roman had tried to make amends from what happened in the past few episodes, going so far as to try and protect Patton from Janus, but it never seemed to be enough for him.

But that wasn't the important thing right now. Roman shivered, a bit cold in the room as he stood up and approached Logan.

"Hey, pocket watch, wanna watch musicals with special effects and try to figure out how they do them?" he offered.

Logan offered a small, tired smile.

"Sure, Roman," he said, "That would be lovely."

Together, the two sides went to Roman's room. Though most of the fans saw the clear animosity between Roman and Logan, the two were rather good friends off-camera. When there was nothing at stake for Thomas, they found good company in each other. Logan helped Roman listen to reason when he was being overly idealistic, and Roman helped Logan find hope and inspiration where there seemed to be none at all.

And best of all, they both loved to watch musicals with special effects and try to figure out how they were done. They giggled and kicked their feet and shouted like children when they guessed correctly.

Something about being with Logan made Roman feel as if he could be himself for a change. He didn't have to put on a performance that he was some grand, indestructible prince, simply because there was no point. Logan could always see right through Roman's acts. Logan knew that Roman was not really a prince, that he really was very sensitive. And though that was scary sometimes, it was usually refreshing, not needing to pretend. Especially because it was obvious that Logan knew how it felt to be put on that sort of stifling pedestal.

Roman was the only person who Logan felt safe to be himself around too, though not for the same reason. Logan struggled to be taken seriously by the other sides, often seen as a joke. Though Roman teased Logan, it was clear that Roman did not view Logan as lesser-than or pathetic. Roman listened to and respected Logan's wishes, especially off camera. He made Logan feel...listened to. And almost appreciated at times? It was something Logan was generally unfamiliar with. But with Roman, it tended to be abundant.

"Roman? What's going on?"

Roman blinked, and looked over at Logan. He clutched his blankets closer to himself as he felt a terrible chill come over him.

"N- no- nothing," Roman stammered between his chattering teeth, "I'm just cold is all."

"Cold?" Logan asked sharply, extremely concerned, "It's eighty degrees in here, and you have two blankets on. I'm surprised you aren't overheating."

Roman was not expecting that level of worry from Logan, who was usually so level-headed.

"Um...I dunno," Roman shrugged, "I'm just cold. I don't know what to tell you. It's been like this for a few weeks now. I figured my room just had a draft or something."

Logan felt Roman's forehead. Roman shivered, subconsciously leaning into Logan's gentle and warming touch. Logan's fingers delicately brushed the hair away from Roman's forehead.

"You don't feel feverish or unwell," the logical side mused, "You don't seem to be sick at all. But I can't think of any other reason why you might feel like...this."

Logan paused when he saw how Roman reacted to his touch.

"You're so warm," Roman murmured, an almost delirious smile on his face, "I've never felt anything warmer, not in all my life."

Logan did not think he was particularly toasty. He frowned a bit, and put his other hand on Roman's shoulder. When the creative side practically keened into the touch, Logan realized what the problem was, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in his head in one immediate snap.

"It's touch," he realized, "Roman, when was the last time somebody touched you?"

"Three weeks ago," Roman said, as if he had the time and place memorized, "When Patton petted my head after I did the dishes."

"So you've gone three weeks without being touched..." Logan mused, "And you're cold. And the moment I touch you, you're warm."

Logan decided to try something else. But when he leaned in to hug Roman, the creative side quickly pulled away.

"Logan- please, you don't have to do that," Roman said quickly, "Patton said I need to work on my selfishness and pushiness. I- I don't want you to hug me if you don't want to. I know you don't like touch. I'll be fine. It's just a little cold."

"Roman."

Logan's voice was so sharp that Roman looked up from his rambling in surprise. Sure, he was used to Logan sounding stern, but this was more than that. His violet-blue eyes blazed with an intensity that Roman rarely saw from his friend. Logan was considerably vexed.

"I mean-"

"Roman."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Roman."

"But I just wanted to-"

"Roman!"

Roman ceased.

"I understand what you intended," Logan said, with an awkward chuckle, and warmth seeped into his tone, making him sound almost friendly. "And I know I've expressed that I'm not particularly fond of physical affection. But this is different. You need me, and...honestly, it's not the touch that I dislike. It's the suddenness of being touched without permission. When Patton surprise hugs me, it...makes me nervous. When Remus elbows me out of nowhere, or when Virgil ruffles my hair, it just unnerves me. I like hugging my friends, Roman. I like it when I get to decide when it starts and ends. Does that make any sense?"

Roman couldn't hide the bright grin that formed on his face.

"It makes sense," he reassured, but a shiver ran through his body, causing him to let out a whimper as he hugged himself in an attempt to preserve body heat.

He rushed to put the blankets around himself again, but Logan stopped him gently. And then, he pulled Roman into the softest, gentlest, warmest hug that Roman had ever experienced. The prince's doe-like brown eyes went round as saucers. And then, he hugged Logan back, with the same gentle strength that Logan exhibited.

And they hugged for a good, long time. Until Roman stopped shivering. Then, Logan got to initiate exactly when it was time to pull back. The two sides looked into each others eyes for a long time. And Logan did not for a moment expect to see tears shining in Roman's.

"Roman...what's the matter?" Logan asked, quickly bringing a hand to Roman's cheek to swipe away the glistening tears.

"I don't know- I- I-" Roman whimpered, "I've never felt so warm. This feeling, it's- it's not bad, but I'm just- I'm so overwhelmed..."

He sobbed and sobbed, and Logan pulled him close, allowing Roman to sob into his shoulder. Logan did not show it on his ever-neutral face, but his heart clenched whenever he heard his dear friend's cries. Roman was a crier, whether he was happy, sad, or angry. But despite how common it was to hear and see, Logan still never quite got used to it. Logan just hated to see Roman look so confused and lost. The creative side had never looked more like a child than he did in that moment.

"It's alright, Roman," Logan hushed gently, "It's alright. I've got you. And I want this. I know you're a lot colder than I am. But being here with you, I've never felt so warm either. It appears we have that in common. So relax. Please. I want you here. I...I love you, Roman."

"I..." Roman's breath caught in his throat.

God, how long had it been since somebody said those words to him with such sincerity and sureness?

How long had it been since somebody said them to Logan?

"I love you too," the creative side replied, the words coming out his mouth as easily as water poured through a stream.

There was much more hugging, and staring, and hugging, and staring. The touched-starved prince and the typically emotionally unavailable teacher both felt more alive when they were together. It was such a beautiful feeling they shared, something that could not quite be described or otherwise replicated. All they knew was that together, in that room, surrounded by blankets and all by themselves, Roman and Logan felt trust.

"To think," Roman laughed, in higher spirits already, "The solution was right here this entire time!"

"How absurd of me to be so dense!" Logan cried out, "To have only noticed this now, I'm very ashamed of myself."

"Don't be," Roman reassured, "I couldn't be more grateful for you, Logan."

"And same to you, Roman," Logan said, "If you ever need some warmth from me again, you can always ask. Alright?"

Roman beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

"You got it, teach! he said, "And the second you want it all to stop, I'll pull away. Okay?"

Logan sighed softly, and the smile that grew on his face was so wide and free that it surprised him. To think. Having the choice. It was nice to have a physical relationship that did not feel conditional.

"Okay," he affirmed, adjusting his glasses. "It's a deal."

#whump community #sanders sides #whump writing #tss #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #whump #whumpee roman #caretaker logan #touch starved #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #tss roman #tss logan #ts sides #sasi

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pencilpat · 1 year

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You Do Not Have to be Good - moceit

Patton hates alcohol. Not particularly for a moral reason, it just tastes godawful to him. But he came to Janus's room for a distraction, and goshdarnit he'll take it. He cringes through a sip as they sit on the floor, and Janus laughs.

"Oh, Patton, it's cider. Barely any alcohol at all, and you can barely stomach even that." As if to prove a point, Janus swings back his bottle and takes a sip so large he gulps audibly. Patton can't help a small giggle, even as bad as he feels.

"Gosh, Jan, I don't know how you and Logan handle this stuff."

"Simple. We're not man-babies."

Patton laughs and lightly punches Janus's shoulder, coaxing the smallest of smiles from the other man. He settles back against the wall. Janus isn't used to guests, aside from one who isn't a fan of sitting 'properly,' so he has no chairs strewn around his room the way the light sides do.

Janus tilts the liquid around in his bottle with a sigh. "Care to tell me what brought you to me today? My room isn't exactly one of our typical 'spots'."

"Oh! Oh, nothing special or anything, just checking up on you," he says, flashing a winning smile.

"How many times are we going to visit each other before you remember you can't lie to me?" Janus states bluntly, not looking at Patton at all, his eyes fixed on the blank wall across from them.

"Whu- uh- lying? I'm not-"

"How many times will I have to say that sentence? You can not follow 'you can't lie to me' up with a lie, Patton, that's not how this works."

"Look I- I don't really want to talk about it. I came to hang out with you, I don't wanna just-"

"So you're going to talk to one of the others then, yes?" Janus's eyes flit over the fading dark blue in Patton's hair. "How about Logan? I'm sure he'd totally be helpful here, I mean, being so good with his emotions."

Patton frowns at him and Janus sighs, rewording. "All I mean is, you don't talk to anyone else, so it stands to reason that if I don't get you to spit it out, you'll keep 'doing your thing' and only ever talking about how you feel at a surface level while letting the pressure below build and build until you blow up. Am I wrong?"

Patton blinks at him, and then turns away, curling his legs up towards his body and squeezing his free hand's nails into his palm. He's taken to doing that lately, though he doesn't know why. Someone says something that hurts, and he digs his nails deep into his skin or bites his lip so hard it bleeds, then the pain is gone. Dig, dig, gone. "That's not very kind, Janus."

Janus shrugs. The sun is beginning to set, and the room is going golden, the dark walls being cast in the shadows of Janus's blinds. "If someone was never anything but kind, they'd be a liar. I don't want to lie to you forever."

"You don't?"

"Oh wow, yeah, sound shocked about that, sure." Janus rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look angry. "Patton, it's stupid to keep going like you are. Look, if anyone can keep secrets, it's you and me - I'm the best one to talk to here. None of the others seem smart enough to notice how messed up you've been."

Patton cringes, and takes a drink of his cider, which makes him cringe harder. "I'm not... that bad, am I? That obvious?"

"It's pretty bad, dad," Janus sighs. He finally looks at the other man, meeting his eyes. "I promise, okay? And I don't do that lightly. I won't speak a word of whatever is bothering you."

Patton's brow furrows, and he breathes out slowly. He digs his nails into his palm again. Breathes again. Just the offer of talking is threatening to bust down year old dams, but perhaps Janus is right, and this needs to happen. And... he did promise. He's never done that before.

"It's not exactly simple to explain... I guess it's just- it's like- I'm-" Patton sighs, frustrated. "I just don't know anymore if- if I'll ever get it right."

"Right?"

"Being morality. Being... good." Patton's voice strains, and he wipes at his face. "I don't know if I can ever be good, be good enough, be good at my job. I've been messing up nearly everything lately! I can't keep Thomas good, and when I do try to keep him good, I end up being an overbearing jerk. I can't seem to make Roman happy, or Virgil anymore, and," Patton plays with the fringe tips of blue in his hair, almost subconsciously, "I can't make Logan feel good either. We used to be so, so close. Worked through all of our issues, we were really good friends! But he's been so- look, I know he says he doesn't feel anything, but I can tell he's feeling something! And he won't tell any of us about it."

Janus drinks, reserving information as he always does. Patton is upset enough, now's not the time.

"All I've ever wanted was to be good," his voice breaks, and he clears his throat, blinking back hot tears. "Ever since I've existed, I've wanted to be good. What would it mean for Thomas if his morality isn't good?! Maybe you were right, I'm just pointing him towards hell. I'm not doing my job right. How can I be messing up so much? I used to be the one who the others looked at to know everything..." He bites his lip hard, but it doesn't do anything this time. He's crying now, wiping the sleeve of his cat hoodie across his face furiously.

"Who says you have to be good?"

"What?"

Janus sighs, sipping his drink. "'You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.' Mary Oliver. Goodness isn't necessary one hundred and twenty-five percent of the time. You're an animal like any other, and you only need do what makes you happy, just like any other. You're not some divine being above the ability to screw up or be sad."

"You and Thomas's religious sensibilities are very tied together. You're stuck on this idea that as morality, you can only ever have good and pure ideas. You can never make mistakes, and you can never be wrong. Look, sure, we're no humans, but you're a piece of a human, and they're kind of renowned for their mistake making. I've told you before, Patton. If you're making a genuine effort to do better, then your apologies mean enough. You've repented. You didn't even need to, but you do anyway. Because you're good, as much as a side can be. You're so good you make me sick sometimes. I was being a dick when I said you're pointing him towards hell, being a dick is kind of my thing. I don't think you're even capable of knowingly being a bad person."

Patton feels tears pour down his face, staring sightlessly at his bottle as Janus rants. He's drawn blood from his lip. The words are making some deep piece of him ache worse than he has in years. Without thinking, he sets his head on Janus's shoulder. Janus barely blinks, leaning into him as he continues.

"You do make the others happy, Patton. They love you so much it's gross. But they have issues as well. Issues that are getting worse as Thomas's mental health is plummeting. All pieces of Thomas have gripes and qualms right now, I don't understand you all's strange insistence on everything being fine. Want me to lie? Everything is just fine! Why, nothing is eating at any of you, and you're at the peak of your lives!" Janus sighs, eyes closing. "It's okay to experience pain, you know. It doesn't make you bad. Nor does making mistakes. It makes you a living thing, as caught up in your own world and worries as every other living thing. You're doing okay, Patton. You'll never be perfect, but I watch you do everything you can every day. For crying out loud, let that soft animal of 'you' catch a break."

Patton sniffs, letting out a shaking sigh. "Why does hearing all that hurt me?"

"Because you've never heard it before, probably. Has anyone, ever, at all, told you to give yourself a break?"

"I... I guess not, not really. I don't know. I don't feel like I deserve it."

"I say you deserve it. If you won't listen to yourself, listen to me. Listen to a... friend."

Patton nearly physically startles at that word coming from Janus. "Friend?"

"If you make me repeat myself we're never having these visits again, watch it."

"We're friends?" Patton lifts his head, grinning despite his tear streaked face. Janus makes a frustrated noise, his face going red, but he lets Patton hug him nonetheless. Patton laughs, despite it all, holding Janus against his chest. The parts of his heart that were aching feel suddenly wrapped in warmth, like a heating pad on a pained muscle. And as Janus sets aside his drink and properly returns the hug, Patton's heart feels so many things, but mostly, at least for now, it feels at peace.

"Are you going to actually give yourself a rest, or did literally all of that go in one ear and out the other?"

Patton laughs. "Thanks, Janus. Really, thank you. Um. Not going to tell anyone still, right?"

"Of course," Janus places a hand on his heart and holds the other up in a pledge. "We both have trouble verbalizing emotions anyways."

"Can't say I'm surprised! Get it? Can't say?"

"Yes, Patton, I got it," Janus rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You know I just hate puns."

"Liar liar!"

#moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #janus x patton #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts patton #ts janus #my writing

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