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delimeful · 4 years

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breathing cleaner air (1)

winner of fic poll, a new BTHB fic for halloween month! the prompt for this one was "Painful Transformation"!

warnings: body horror, painful transformation, fighting/violence, dehumanizing language, antagonist (but not unsympth) virgil, religious terms borrowed to name original monsters (no actual religious connections), miscommunication/language barrier, mortal peril, thinking youre going to die

extra note: this is a multichapter fic, but this first chapter ends on a very concerning note. there is an eventual happy ending in later chapters, promise!

Roman wasn’t sure exactly when he’d been separated from the rest of his entourage.

One moment, Logan was at his shoulder, his firm hand keeping Roman from stumbling over gnarled tree roots, and the next, he was alone, with only faint echoes of his own voice to keep him company.

Their quarry was certainly powerful, to be able to warp so much of the woods around them with thick fog and unnatural darkness. He should have expected as much.

After all, this was the same monster that had been infiltrating the Dimiour kingdom at night and stealing away children from their families. It would have to be strong in order to pull that off.

His right-hand knight would surely recommend retreating and regrouping in more neutral territory, but this was the first time they’d actually caught the fiend in the act. Seraphs were notoriously agile, with the maneuverability of the three sets of razor-sharp wings that had earned them their moniker. Once one was out of sight, it wasn’t likely to be seen again.

This time, though, the tracer spell on Roman’s compass was still active and locked on to the target.

There was no way he could return to his court empty-handed. He was the crown prince. He couldn’t be a failure. Not when there was so much at stake.

Firming his shoulders, he pushed onwards, his sword drawn.

The forest was eerily quiet around him, making the scuff of his shoes against the ground seem harsh enough to lead any enemy right to him. He shook off the thought; he was the one pursuing here. Let them come and face him.

Roman glanced up from his compass, and paused at the sight of a familiar-looking rotting tree trunk. He’d noticed one just like it about thirty paces back because it had a rare strain of fungus that Remus would have liked. What were the odds that the same rare fungus dotted the same side of a different identical rotting log?

Sure enough, another thirty paces and the log popped up again. Despite following the needle of his compass devotedly, he was being led in circles. A mind-altering ability, along with the manipulation of light and water they’d already seen? Roman shuddered, imagining what the monster could be planning with so much power at its disposal.

Luckily, Roman had more than enough faith in Logan’s spellcasting.

He closed his eyes, letting the clink of the needle guide his steps closer and closer to his target. His mind rebelled, senses muffling as though he was walking through thick honey instead of air, and then, with a pop, he was though.

When he opened his eyes, there was a small house in a clearing in front of him.

It was less ramshackle than he would have expected, the candlelight in the windows looking almost cozy compared to the dark forest surrounding it.

Assured that the kidnapping culprit lay just ahead, he tucked the compass into his pocket, strode forward, and kicked the door down.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the figure in the middle of the room, who had spun around at his arrival.

It looked startlingly human, wide eyed and messy haired, but the single set of dark wings taking up half the room were a dead giveaway to the seraph’s true nature. Those fragile core wings could be hidden, protected, even glamored away, but they never vanished entirely. They were the most reliable way to expose a seraph hidden in a human guise.

The seraph swore lowly, flaring the feathery appendages out to make itself look bigger.

Roman could just barely make out the small figures crowded against the back corner of the room, anxious eyes peering out at him. He felt something in him loosen in relief at the sight of the children still alive, if undoubtedly terrified. He’d half-expected the horrific alternative.

“I’ll tell you this once, you feathery fiend,” he said, pointing his sword at the monster directly. “Release the innocents you’ve kidnapped, and I won’t make your end painful.”

Its pupils narrowed to slits, and it spread its wings wider, hiding the children from view. When it spoke, there was a high, grating discordant note under the words. “Not. A. Chance.”

“Then face the consequences!” Roman shouted, and lunged.

The seraph was surprisingly adept at defending, flexing its hands and using long, sharp claws to block his blows and get in some of its own. Even in battle, it always remained between Roman and the children it held hostage, and the poor things were too frightened to respond to his calls for them to run.

Frustrating, but nothing he couldn’t overcome. In the end, Roman had been trained with the sword since he could stand, and no child-abducting angel impersonator could best him in battle.

When the inevitable opening came, he seized it, pushing forward until the seraph’s back was to the wall. Cornered, it hissed lowly at him before catching his next strike on its claws. It strained against his sword, its shaking arms the only thing keeping his blade from reaching its throat. Only a little further, and--

“Stop it!” A small voice shouted, on the edge of tears. “Don’t hurt him!”

Roman’s head jerked up, his attention caught by the distressed call.

The children were still huddled together, but one at the front of the group had stepped forward, fists clenched and gaze angry.

“Leave him alone!” she demanded, glaring directly at Roman.

Something fluttered at her back, and Roman’s eyes widened.

“You’re--,” he started, and then the seraph twisted in his grip, and he only barely caught the motion of its hand toward his head before glass shattered against his skull.

He staggered back as thick liquid spilled over his head, too cool to be blood.

Rather than pursue the opening, the seraph stepped back, wings finally settling back against its back. The lack of aggression was strange, after it had so fiercely responded to his challenge. Seraphim weren’t known for mercy.

Roman stepped forwards, his mouth shaping the first syllable of a question, and then abruptly understood as his body began to burn coldly, like he’d pressed ice directly to every inch of his skin. His sword dropped from numb fingers, clattering to the floor.

He’d been poisoned.

“New plan, we’re moving tonight,” the seraph began to speak, addressing the children, but Roman’s heartbeat was too loud in his ears to make out the rest of its words.

He fell to hands and knees, a line of burning pain along his spine. Some of the children sent him looks, nervous or pitying or angry, but most were busy scurrying around and gathering everything that wasn’t nailed down. He could see now, the small sets of wings on each and every one’s back, marking them as his kingdom’s enemies.

Why had he been told they were human? A leak in the court? Who had lied?

The seraph crouched in front of him, gaze unreadable. Its eyes were mismatched, Roman noticed nonsensically as another wave of pain shuddered through him.

“Well, that didn’t go to plan.” It brushed the remains of a glass vial from its hand, and Roman stared at the dark liquid left on the pieces.

“Wh--at did you do. To me,” he grit out between pants, struggling to keep himself upright.

“Congrats. You get to see how it feels to be us. To be hunted,” the seraph told him with an unfriendly smile. “Maybe it’ll change your perspective a little. Or maybe you’ll just bite it.”

It shrugged and flipped up its hood, rising to its feet, and kicked Roman’s sword up into its grip. Roman protested the theft on principle, but his voice came out strained and feeble like he’d never heard it before.

Before it followed the last kid out the door, it paused, glancing at him one last time.

“Once the bones are done, it gets easier,” it told him. “Good luck.”

Roman didn’t realize just what that meant until he heard the first resounding crack.

He finally lost his battle with gravity, collapsing to the ground with an agonized cry. That noise-- from inside him--?

There was another crack, and a series of pops like dislocating joints, and then his skin was melting and he was fading in and out of consciousness, roused and put under by the same overwhelming, all-consuming agony. Each time he woke, he could hear grinding and shifting inside of him, as though his insides were rebelling against their natural placement.

The seraph hadn’t been lying: the bones were the most painful part, and once the last one had clicked back into place, there was a palpable difference in pain levels. He still hurt, ached beyond measure, but it was no longer so much that he couldn’t even think past the pain. It almost felt like relief.

Roman focused on breathing, slow and deep, until he felt a little less like he was going to shake apart. He didn’t know of any poison that could do something like this. It was magic-- strong, cursed magic, and unlike Logan’s, there was no softness in it.

It took what felt like hours for him to gain the resolve to push himself up, and even longer to maintain the motion even as every nerve ending in his body protested. His vision was blurry, and his balance felt entirely off, even more so than that time Remus had dared him to jump off the roof and he’d gotten a concussion.

When he finally properly looked down at himself, he found feathers and bone lining his hands, transforming them into sharp claws and rigid armor. Familiar, but only because he’d seen them on his enemies time and time again.

The shock of adrenaline at the sight was helpful in pushing his aching muscles to the back of his mind as he rose to his knees and twisted to look at himself, staring at the three sets of bright wings draped down from his back.

Golden and white feathers lined them, lined his ears and throat and chest, framing the white exoskeleton pieces inset in his skin.

He sat back on his haunches, and took a few deep, whistling breaths before trying to speak, to say anything in his own voice. To prove he was still himself.

The sound that emerged from his throat was hollow and resonant, like woodwind instruments in harmony. It sent chills of anticipation down his spine, for he’d only ever heard the uncanny call before battle.

There was no denying it, however much he might want to. His body had been warped, transformed into the worst enemy of his kingdom, the beasts that plagued their people day and night. He was a seraph.

He had to get help.

Surely, there was someone among the court who knew about this curse, who could procure a solution, some kind of cure. He couldn’t be stuck as a monster, he was Dimiour’s crown prince!

He pushed himself up to his feet and found he was taller than before, limbs thin and spindly. All six of the wings lifted and curled around him automatically, creating the shell of bright feathery limbs that marked a seraph on defense. They were lighter than he would have expected, seeing as he knew the true form feathers were as sharp as any knife.

He stumbled through the door into the open forest air, taking a significant chunk out of the door frame as he went. His limbs were unsteady with inexperience, the gait distinctly different, almost hunched over to counterbalance the weight of his-- the wings.

In the distance, Roman heard voices calling his name.

He loped towards the sounds with barely a thought, attempting not to overthink every staggering movement. The underbrush scraped and rattled around him, announcing his presence well before he cleared the treeline and found himself faced with the weapons of his own squadron.

He tried to speak automatically, to show them that he wasn’t what they thought, but all that left him were those discordant, eerie notes, like overlapping birds of prey. He sounded like a nightmare come to life, and he noticed with abrupt horror that some of the newer trainees were faltering, clapping hands over their ears.

A blade flashed in the corner of his vision, and he raised an arm automatically. With a clang, the attacking knight’s glaive rebounded off his arm so sharply that the man wielding it nearly toppled. Another knight quickly moved between them, weapon raised defensively as their fellow recovered.

Roman stared at his arm, now covered in an extra layer, a hardened shell of bone. The armor had appeared-- had ossified into place, quicker than he could think.

“Hold!” A familiar voice called, and Roman turned to it like it was an oasis in a drought. Logan. Logan was here, he was the smartest person he knew, if anyone would have a solution, it would be him.

An odd crooning note bubbled up from his chest, but it cut off sharply at the sight of his right-hand man.

Logan stood sturdy with his scythe staff held up in one hand, and not a glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Move on, continue searching for our liege,” he directed, voice firm. “I will handle this opponent.”

Roman screeched, wings flaring in upset, trying over and over to manage anything recognizable as human speech. Anything at all that would let his closest friend identify him.

Logan didn’t even flinch at the sound, well-practiced in filtering out the skull-splitting calls of seraphim. He’d been in more battles than Roman ever had, out on the field while Roman was stuck learning courtly etiquette.

He’d earned himself the mantle of ‘Executioner’, and the thought had never sent a chill down Roman’s spine the way it did now.

But then, Roman had never been the one on this end of Logan’s casting, had he?

The others continued forward on their commanding officer’s orders, searching for someone who stood right before them, and abandoning him to a fight he couldn’t win.

Logan knew seraphim better than anyone else, how they functioned on every level.

Roman barely knew how to operate this new body, and more than that, he was terrified of it, of the damage he could unknowingly deal his best friend. It could hardly be called an equal match.

Still, it was almost a surprise to feel the impact of Logan’s first cast, a draining spell designed to weaken the enemy. He didn’t want to believe this situation was real, any of it, but the burning pins and needles racing through him were undeniable.

His wings wrapped around him more securely, he intended to turn, to flee the way no prince should. Perhaps it was this cowardice that resulted in the way he only made it two steps before exhaustion made him stumble.

Or maybe it was the way the most painful transformation of his life had turned his body inside-out what felt like mere moments ago.

Either way, he was in no position to dodge the next spell, or resist the darkness blooming in his vision as he tipped over that precarious line into unconsciousness.

His last glimpse of the world around him was Logan, weapon in hand, striding closer with his face set determinedly. Roman’s foolishness had never managed to outlast or outwit that expression before, and he had no doubt that this instance would be much the same.

At least, with any luck, his friend would never know what he’d done.

#sanders sides #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #BTHB #bad things happen bingo #writing #my writing #breathing cleaner air #bca #multichapter #EDIT: FORGOT THE BINGO SORRY

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stillebesat · 3 years

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Christmas Eve (3/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk Taglist in Reblog To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2

He supposed it was the shock of Roman actually helping him that allowed his Ex to drag him halfway through the store before Janus remembered he didn’t have to be complacent in this.

“Seriously.” He rasped, jerking his arm, finding it difficult to focus on anything more than the burning grip of Roman’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t have to do this.”

It sounded so flimsy soo--so trite. So insincere. Even to his own ears. Roman had to be dissecting his words and tone even now, searching for the trick--the manipulation he had used as easily as a fish breathed water all throughout his--well his entire life, even if Roman had only experienced it first hand for a couple of years during college.

With that sort of bad history between them...of all the possibilities that had flashed through his mind when he and Roman had made eye contact...having him actually help them had never--well it had--briefly. Very very briefly. Crossed his mind. But it had been a fool’s hope. Not when their relationship had ended more explosively than the grand finale of a firework show.

“I--” He swallowed trying again as he adjusted Pattey’s weight on his hip. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured them meeting again. He wasn’t ready for this. “We really can just leave. He’ll understand.” His son knew all too well about his history with the Prince even if it was just through bedtime stories. “You don’t have to--”

“Shut up, Dragon Witch.” Roman growled, tugging him around a corner. “I don’t want to either. But I’m not heartless.”

“You’re not.” He agreed. Roman was anything but that. He was good. He’d been the best thing that had happened to him before Patton came into his life, and Janus had taken advantage of that in the worst ways possible, using him and then tossing him away like so much trash without realizing what a treasure Roman actually was. “But you don’t have to force yourself on my--” Janus cut off as a small hand covered his mouth, his son’s bright eyes filled with excitement.

“Shh, Daddy.” He patted his lips. “You told me if a Prince offers to help you, you let him help! You don’t say no.”

Yes. But he hadn’t meant that to apply to himself! What he’d done--it could be considered unforgivable. No one should be treated how he’d treated Roman--or well, any of his former relationships. It had taken Patton’s birth to get him to...stop. To want to change. To be better.

Roman had the gall to smirk at him as he stopped in front of a display of cages, letting go of Janus’s wrist so he could fish out a set of keys from his pocket. “Correct, little man. It’s a Prince’s duty to help all those he encounters in distress….even if the fair damsel turns out to be a---.”

“Aaraog!” Patton piped up.

Roman froze, looking nonplussed at the nonsequir. “Aaraog?”

“You can’t trust them. They’re Evil.” Patton said solemnly before bouncing in Janus’s arms as he stared eagerly into the cages. “Daddy says that even though the Dragon Witch is a jerk, he still occasionally helps the Prince! And so they can’t be meanies to each other all the time like Aaraog sooo if the Prince can help the Dragon Witch then you, Prince--”

“Roman.” Janus said softly, the name feeling like he was tasting the forbidden fruit as it rolled off his tongue. He looked away as his Ex shot him a dark look. Yah...he didn’t think they were on first name terms anymore, hence why he only ever called the Prince...well Prince. But Pattey had been upset that the Dragon Witch always fought with the Prince and always lost...so he’d told a slightly different story from the usual, using a giant spider as the villain instead. It’d been... a kind of self wish of his. Where he hoped things would eventually...maybe...work out.

“Prince Roman! And my Daddy can be friends today too as you help!”

Ha. That would be the day. He wasn’t a fool enough to believe them rekindling any sort of...friendship...would ever actually happen. Even if he wanted a redo...he was pretty sure he’d burned that bridge and then buried the ashes in a pit a hundred feet deep back in college.

“I--I--don’t think he’s...uh...I’m sure the Dragon Witch can be...nice.” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

And Janus was a platypus. “Liar.” He mumbled. Roman had only ever known his manipulative nice. Not his genuine niceness. How could he? Janus had only learned how to be so after Patton had said his first word. Years after everything had...ended between them.

“You’re one to talk.” Roman hissed.

“Yes and?”

Pattey looked between the two of them, before deciding that comforting his Dad was needed. His little hands squished Janus’s cheeks. “But Daddy isn’t a true Dragon Witch!” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact before he flashed his hundred watt smile, succeeding in melting Janus’s heart once again. “He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world! Even if he doesn’t think so.”

Janus flushed. “Liar.” He repeated. He was sure there were plenty of other Dads who were far better than he could ever be.

“Truther!” Patton grinned. “The best best best BEST Daddy!!”

He shook his head as Roman scoffed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as a tomato--this awkward encounter was only going to get much worse if he didn’t hurry this up. Janus quickly set his son down, pushing him towards the cage his Ex had unlocked.

“Go pick one you like.” He encouraged, staying crouched to discourage Roman from talking to him even if it did mean his Ex would be hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. It wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully keep himself from saying something he would regret and get them kicked out before he could buy a Frogmin for his son.

After all, Roman had to only be helping him on Patton’s behalf. If his kid hadn’t been here he was sure his Ex would have taken one look at him and thrown him right back out, no questions asked. So the sooner they could get out of here the sooner they both could forget this whole encounter.

Not that Janus would be able to forget. Not when Pattey usually demanded a Prince story for bedtime.

“Oh!!!” Patton pressed his face against the glass where little multi-colored frog-like humans crouched among the branches inside the cage. “Look at them, Daddy!!! LOOK! FROGMINS!! They’re here! AWWWWWW. Look at their cute little spots!!”

Janus let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Finally. After fifteen stores he could finally make good on his promise to his son.

“Careful. You don’t want to scare them.” Roman said, also kneeling down, keeping Pattey between them as he pointed to the half dozen Frogmins inside. “While they have frog characteristics, it’s easier to think of them as mini people. And some of them can get really scared when a giant face suddenly appears in front of them.”

His son’s eyes went wide. “Noooo. I don’t wanna scare them!” Pattey leaned back, wrapping his arms around himself as he twisted back and forth. “They’re just sooo cool! And so Princely! Cus if you kiss one they can turn large and save the day! Like the stories! But I want mine to remain small, so I’ll be very careful in my kisses. And they can hop and climb walls like--” Patton made a face and Janus had to bite back a smile at his son’s reluctance to say Spiderman. “Like superheros!! And they eat bugs! Like...like!!!....like….spiders.” He shivered. “I don’t like them.”

Roman tilted his head, amber eyes flashing with understanding. “So you’re looking for a Frogmin to protect you from spiders?”

Pattey nodded hard enough he looked like a bobble head. “He’ll keep me safe while I sleep!”

Roman chuckled. “A good reason to get a Frogmin. Though not all of them like to eat spiders. Just like some little boys don’t like to eat their vegetables.”

His son grimaced. “But carrots are icky!!”

“And some Frogmins think spiders are icky too.” He said gently, opening a small hatch in the side of the cage where three of the Frogmins had already gathered. “While you can just pick one that you like the look of...you could also come over here and hold out your hands--don’t reach in, but hold out your hands and ask them if any of them would like to come live with you and eat spiders...or well, like to have them as a treat as I’m sure you don’t want to feed them dried ones.” He glanced over to Janus as he spoke.

Ha. No. While he did have some dried spiders waiting at home, there was no way he’d pull out any of the creatures...even dead ones...where his son could see. One meltdown at the first pet store had been enough to convince him why having his Lilypatton see spiders--dead or alive--was a bad idea.

Janus let out a slow breath as Pattey eagerly moved closer, his small hands held out to the opening.

“Do you guys like to eat spiders?” He whisper-shouted to the group. “If you do, we have plenty of them at home and I really really REALLY want you to eat ALL of them. Please? Pleeeease.”

And now Roman was going to think they lived in a haunted house or something. Really, it was more of an issue of all the spiders in their backyard instead of inside.

Janus shook his head, holding up a hand. “I have a variety of other dried insects to choose from at home if the one Pattey picks doesn’t like spiders.” He said, glancing at his Ex before turning his attention back to the cage, watching as more Frogmins crept out of the leaves towards his son.

Sure, he knew that Pattey wanted the Frogmin mostly for their ability to eat spiders--and their connection to Princes--but he wasn’t a fool to expect that to be the only food source.

Though knowing his luck, whichever one his son picked would be extremely picky and want to eat only the most expensive of the bugs.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You already have everything else as well? The cage?”

Janus rolled his eyes. Nooo he’d just spent months preparing and all day searching for a Frogmin and totally forgot about getting the creature a home to live in. “Yes.”

Roman pursed his lips, an obvious indication that he didn’t like the answer and stood, tilting his head down the aisle to where a variety of cages sat on the shelves. “Show me.”

To Be Continued. Part 4

#Christmas Eve #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Janus #Roman #Patton #Deceit #Creativity #Morality #Familial Moceit #Dad!Janus #Child!Patton #Past Toxic Relationship talk tw #Manipulation talk tw #Lying talk tw #Frogmin!AU #MythicalMin!AU #PetStore!AU

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princeanxious · 5 years

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The Royal Librarian- Chapter 1

Chapter 1- “The Road to Perfection is Destructive.”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Future analogical, future sidelines royality, sidelines established dukeceit, background remile

Word Count: a little over 3k

Warnings For This Chapter: Virgil’s got anxiety and is a bit self depricating, brief mentions of panic attacks, Virgil stays up and works himself for so much longer and harder than is healthy for a normal person in one session, boi highkey overthinks a ton when he’s not occupied. Don’t work yourself for 24 hours straight like Virge does, it’s not good for you.

Minor notes on Virgil’s mental state in this fic: Virgil has ADHD(as reflected by my own life experience) that shows up in different ways here and there, and he suffers from RSD(Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) which drives Virgil’s need to be perfect or fail till he damn near collapses from exhaustion, which also just feeds into his chronic anxiety. Thats all for now!

Chapter one(you are here!)|Chapter two(coming soon!)

Bonus stuff:

-the Rough Library Layout

[[MORE]]

Quiet. Such a word was practically synonymous with Virgil’s existence. The young adult practically grew up in silence, sought quiet spaces out like a moth drawn to a flame. And like a deer spooked by a snapping branch, he often fled from loud groups larger than three. He had been a quiet child, content to lose himself in any book he could get his hands on, reading for hours in any quiet atmosphere he could find. Alone, and content because of it.

So it was really no surprise he picked up a local library apprenticeship when he’d turned fifteen, and was a well-versed and well-read librarian by age nineteen. He had his lifelong friend Patton to thank for making him apply alongside hundreds of others to the opening position of the Royal Astra Family’s castle Librarian position, a year later. And, to be fair? He’d only applied because he’d been sure his resume would never have been seen, let alone selected, if only to simply placate his best friend’s excited begging.

He didn’t account for Patton’s connections as the Royal Head Cook to shift that margine of possibility to reach at least being seen. Though Patton chalked it up to the fact that he’d always talked about Virgil around the royal family anyway, long before the position had needed a replacement. It seemed to be just Virgil’s luck that ‘Virgil’ just happened to be a very uncommon name.

The panic attack that followed after he received a letter that his resume had been selected alongside a select few others for further evaluation had been a rough one. Still, he held out hope that his perceived inexperienced youth would save him, the stress and responsibility of such a serious job couldn’t be trusted with some ambitious kid like him, could it?

And, besides, it’s not like Patton’s constant praises carried that much weight, right? That's just how Patton was, a personified ball of sunshine! It was why Virgil was never surprised to hear Patton mention the royal family and staff by name on accident, or mention a silly story involving them in private, he’d clearly become close to them as the Head Cook. Though, the more he thought about it, he realized that.. Well, it’s not like the royal family had known Patton as long as Virgil had. Patton could be too trusting, and tried to see good in everyone, and well, perhaps the royal family trusted his judge of character over just simple skills. And wasn’t it just peachy that Virgil was lifelong best friends with said ball of personified sunshine? (Not that he’d ever trade their friendship for the world, never. It was just Virgil’s problem that he could never seem to tell Patton no, huh?)

Eventually, a nerve wracking week passed before Virgil finally had his answer in the form of an acceptance letter hand-delivered and an accompanying uniform and granted permissions to traverse and move into the castle grounds, all ordered and signed by King Thomas himself.

Apparently, his suspicions over Patton’s influence had indeed won out.

Three days later, Virgil finds himself silently saying goodbye to the home he’d made on his own, not as terribly forlorn over the loss as he thought he’d be. The small cottage he’d been renting didn’t feel much like home to him, anyway, not like a library did. Still, there was a longing to hide from the large change crashing into his life, and thrice he’d hid under his covers and cursed his weak will against Patton’s puppy eye’d pout. Eventually though, he’d talked himself out of his panicked haze, just in time for his first shift the following day.

“I can’t believe I let Pat talk me into this.” The ravenette grumbled as he leaned to the side. Using his weight and momentum to shift the sliding ladder he was perched on, he slid closer to the next book he’d been reaching for.

“Become the castle’s new Librarian! It’ll be fun, he said! It’ll help sooth my anxiety to work with even more books and even less people, he said, the head cook who works with at least 20 other staff each hour to maintain a steady meal plan for the entire castle staff daily!” The little librarian huffed to himself, resignation seeping out with each controlled breath.

His first day hadn’t been an easy one, and though he hadn’t expected it to go smoothly, he certainly hadn’t expected it to become such a mess. It wasn’t his first time working as a librarian, but leave it to good ol’ Virgil to let life make his days as eventful as possible!

From the moment he woke to the time he had his lunch break, not that he would actually willingly take a break nor need one yet, the day had been.. busy, to put it lightly.

It’d been storming when he woke, and though he was on time to get ready and leave, he’d only realized that his umbrella had broken the month prior. It had left him to make a twenty minute dash in the pouring rain when he found no other options.

He was plenty grateful for a bathroom stationed just inside of the library building entrance, where he hurriedly rushed inside to change out of his soaked attire. He’d been smart enough to pack away his official Royal Librarian uniform into a water resistant bag with a few additional dry essentials, and let his common clothes get soaked instead.

In a short six and a half minutes, Virgil was changed and mostly dry, though there was little he could do about his damp hair aside from comb his fingers through it. With his wet clothes packed away, he made it into the library on time to begin his first very long shift.

He’d already been sworn into secrecy when it came to occasionally dealing with the royal family’s history and artifacts in the future, and with his first and hopefully one of very few ever meetings with King Thomas out of the way, he was officially the new Royal Librarian. And now, also the only. As he was told in no certain terms that the last had retired and fucked off into obscurity before anyone had realized that the library had been left in disorganized chaos.

The old coot had apparently made his own system for everything, and hadn't bothered to write any of it down. From sorting sections to assigning books to genres, none if it clear and often very, very unorganized.

Virgil’s first big task was to comb through the entire damn building and use a new system, one that made sense. He was to reorganize every book and every section, using the appropriate genres and sorting. This way the royal family could actually functionally use the library and not waste time sorting through chaos.

This was where Virgil found himself three hours later, on the verge of a minor mental breakdown as he’d just barely sorted an eighth of the books on the main library floor into the Dewey Decimal system.

He’d had plenty of empty tables at the beginning of his journey, and right now every single one had some few stacks of books on each, labeled accordingly. Aside from his muffled ranting and the pattering of rain, the library was relatively silent.

It was odd, being alone in such a gigantic library. It almost reminded him of home.

He paused for a brief moment, having set down the final few books taken from the bookshelf he’d been working on. He’d gone through just one row of 6 bookshelves, and had 7 rows left to go, and that was just barely counting putting books back in the previous shelves as he went. A whine left him as he realized just how long this project was going to take.

“Fucking fuck.”

Somewhere between the second row and the third, Patton had stopped by to check in on Virgil. He found him hard at work sorting the fiction section on the left side of the building, tables half forgotten as Virgil attached unobtrusive non-damaging number labels to each and every book. Stacks of books lay carefully placed on the floor against each shelf, seperated by label and lack of label.

“You already look so at home, Virge!” The head cook whisper-shouted, though the sentiment was not necessary as the only other being in the library was the librarian himself.

“Yeah yeah, hush you. I’m a bit too swamped for ‘I told you so’s at the moment. So, what's up?” Glancing up at the taller man, Virgil briefly noted a small package wrapped in cloth was held in his hands.

“Can you spare a minute to eat?” Patton giggled, but Virgil knew better. He’d known Patton since they were kids, it wasn’t a question. Or a decision to be made. With a sigh, he placed the book he was holding in its place before turning to the cheery cook. “Yeah, I can.”

“How’s the kitchen today?” He asked lightly, having eaten the light meal quickly in order to get back to sorting. Patton hadn’t commented, nor had he been shooed away when Virgil began sorting again. He contently sat out of the way to finish his own lunch, his original goal having been accomplished.

“Oh! It’s going great today, honestly. Not too many mishaps from the newbies today either, so that's a bonus! And well, you know, making mistakes is in human nature but, they’re learning so quickly, I’m so proud of them! They’ll be taking my place by fall, just you wait and see! And, well, Roman stopped by earlier to swipe some snacks for Prince Logan, his brother, and himself. You know, the usual.” Patton chuckled, and if Virgil had looked, he’d seen the besotted look Patton always had when he talked about the head knight of the prince, he’d seen it a hundred times and was bound to see it a hundred or so more.

“Oh, speaking of,” Virgil butted in playfully, “I’ll finally get a chance to meet this knight and shining armor you’ve been swooning over for over a year now, huh?”

He watched Patton’s freckled face flush bright red, sputtering and then coughing on his mouthful of food. Virgil just cackled delightedly, stepping over to give Patton a few hard pats on the back to be sure his friend didn’t choke.

He laughed again when Patton gave him a pout and a soft “You’re so mean to me, Virge!” Eventually Virgil was able to placate Patton with a gentle hug, and the cook was sunshine and smiles again.

A finished lunch break later had Virgil finally sending Patton off, back to the warm bustling kitchens in the main castle building while he moved on to the next portion of his task.

He quickly found the steady back and forth rythme soothing. Pick a few books up, put them away. Pull a few books out, sort it by number as per their section of genre, set it in the right place. It was a blessing to find that there was just enough of a consistency to the previous plan that he could find up to five to six books in the same category in a row, and each set of books could be similar in subject, usually ending up just one section away. Often was the wayward book that found itself out of place, though he had assumed that these were often books just placed back haphazardly considering their subject patterns.

Often the most scattered and random books had ended up being of a few select categories. Without fail, he found that it would end up being a book on Space and Astronomy and/or Mathematics, in-depth Anatomy of Plants and Animals, young adult Fantasy Adventure novels, or Horror novels. It was.. Sort of odd, how there had been no section for each and all of these books, and yet there were so many evenly scattered. Perhaps that had been on purpose then, not haphazardly placed. But why?

Too busy to think deeply about it, he designated spots fitting each book type, and decided he’d figure out what he’d do with the puzzle later.

It was 6 pm by the time he’d finished the fourth row, and Patton had stopped by briefly to check on his best friend. He watched Patton’s merry expression drop some, concern seeping in as he took in his best friend’s progress.

“It’s almost 6:30, Virgil. Have you had another break yet?” He asked, watching his best friend continue moving back and forth. “Aren’t you tired? It’s been a little under 12 hours at this point, kiddo.. dontcha think it’s time to call it for the day? I mean, you’re already halfway there!”

“Library hours, at least Librarian work hours, don’t end till 9. And yeah, I guess I’m a little tired? But I’m in the zone, Pat. You know how I get when I’m in The Zone. If I stop now, who knows how long it’ll take me to finish sorting the other half?” Virgil rambled, half distracted and still trying to keep a vice grip on his concentration. “And besides, King Thomas said he’d be checking in on me tomorrow.”

“But Virge, you know he doesn’t expect you to have it done in one day. Thomas isn’t like that! That’s why he gave you a whole week to settle in, so you could move into the Library’s living quarters-which you haven’t done yet, might I add!- and get the library situated.” Patton stood stiffly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Virgil was as stubborn as he himself was when his mind was made up.

“Look, Pat.. just, I’m sorry. You know I hate to worry you. I’ll try to stop at 10, go home and get some rest, and tomorrow i’ll move my stuff into my new home here. And, i’ll take a break from sorting for a few hours. Okay?” Virgil reached out, taking Patton’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let Patton pull him into a tight hug, and didn’t resist when Patton briefly rubbed at his tense shoulders.

“Okay. Just, take care of yourself, Virge, okay? If I find out you stayed out an hour later than 11 pm, you’re gonna be in big trouble mister!” Patton giggled, lightening the mood the way he knew how.

“Yeah, yeah, hear ya loud and clear, Dad.” He watched Patton beam at the nickname, and moments later he watched Patton disappear behind the library’s main entrance door as his friend left him be, reassured. Virgil gave a heavy sigh, looking down guiltily at the stray book clutched in his hands.

“Let’s just hope ‘trouble’ just means a week of disappointed reprimands like last time…”

Hours later, Virgil’s head jerked up from his sorting as a father clock somewhere in the library dinged, signalling 10 o'clock. Biting his lip, he walked to the front doors and examined his options. He found he could lock the library from the inside, and pulled down the shutters. Briskly, he moved to cover each large window with their thick drapery, finding the adorning cloth thick enough to keep the low artificial light from seeping out. He dimmed the inner library lights so the library looked closed, but otherwise the building was still functioning from within.

Unless someone else had keys to the doors of the library, no one would know that the librarian was still stationed and working within. No one could see out, and more importantly, no one could see in. Which meant that Virgil was safe from Patton’s wrath if the Cook came to check on him, temporarily at least.

“Fuck, Patton’s gonna be so mad..” He muttered to himself, leaning against the librarian’s desk with a deep sigh. He’d briefly admired the beautiful desk earlier in the day, from the intricate carving to the beautiful dark mahogany. It would serve him well in the future, he hoped, after the thorough ‘grounding’ he knew he was going to get from Patton.

He shook his head to free his thoughts. There was no sense in getting in trouble and feeling guilty about it if he didn’t do anything to learn from in the first place. It was time to get back to work, and if he was lucky, he’d finish the main body of the library by the time his next shift started. Then, he could try and play it off, like nothing had ever happened, he’d just keep Patton out of the library till tomorrow to hide his finished work.

11 pm came and passed as he worked, and when he looked next at the clock, he found it was nearly 4 am. Tired but determined with only one row left, Virgil trekked on with a new vigor. All-nighters weren’t anything new to Virgil, not in the slightest. He was a creature of the night who rarely got a full night's rest to begin with. And sure, it was rare he worked his body so hard and for so long, but fixations were hard to break once in The Zone, it’s not like he could feel it past the hyperfixation haze.

Patton had often told him off for it when they were young, but as time passed they’d come to realize that’s just how Virgil was. Laying down did nothing to lure his mind to sleep on even the tiredest of nights if his insomnia had something to say about it. Better that he used the extra time to be productive, rather than spend 6 hours tossing and turning in bed, numbers and thoughts crowding in his head, and only getting up more restless than before. Patton often just tried to ease the aftermath if he could help it.

Sliding the last book into place was like sliding a final puzzle piece into a massive puzzle. The triumph of accomplishment had never felt so good, not like this.

Though, he quickly found himself aimless not 10 minutes later, seeking errors to fix and lost books to give a home. His brain wasn’t ready to let go of it’s fixation just yet, but as each second crawled by, he found himself recentering into the real world.

His body ached, and he was exhausted. His stomach gnawed at him weakly in hunger and his eyes watered from staring unblinkingly for so long. He eyed the chair behind the librarian’s desk, his desk now, he reminded himself.

“Screw it.. The Library’s sorted enough, I've got the rest of the week to make it perfect. A ten minute nap won’t hurt, right..?” He huffed to himself as he pulled the window curtains open one by one. Shuffling over to the main library doors, he unlocked them and raised the shutters. Soft morning sun rays fluttered into the connected windowed hallway just beyond the doors. He smiled at the tiny beauty of life, spotting the main library windows letting in the same comforting, dappled light.

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he plopped into the chair at his desk, finding it soft and comforting. Leaning forward, he rested his head on his arms, and under the fluttering morning light, succumbed to sleep’s gentle embrace.

Unknowing of the rude awakening that was soon to come.

Chapter two

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

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Jewel of the Sea: Chapter 18: A Long Overdue Talk

Chapter 17

Word Count: 1,594

Virgil woke the next morning curled around Elliott, who was trying to get out of bed. Virgil gave a soft groan before untangling their tails and rolling over. “Five more minutes.”

Elliott laughed. “Looks like someone got used to sleeping in.”

Virgil sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and floating slightly before sinking back down into the natural bed. “What time is it?”

“Just past nine.”

Virgil nodded, and moved to grab a fresh covering from the closet. He opened his jewelry box for the first time in a few moons and decided to go all out. He was home, he was royalty, and he wanted to show it. Before he slid the first armband on, his eyes caught on the bracelet Roman had given him. His smile was tinged with sadness at the edges but he kept it on, brushing his thumb over it. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“What was that?” Elliott asked as they turned back around.

Virgil shrugged. “Nothing. Nothing, let’s get to breakfast.”

They headed down to the dining room and took their places. Virgil’s mother commented on him being gone longer than normal but the family was used to him disappearing for moons at a time so no one made too big of a deal out of it.

Toby and Ember were talking about Ember’s crush and how she thought a Necklace was in her future. Nate and Jasper were discussing plans for the crops. Andy, as usual, was just sitting off to the side. Virgil bumped their shoulders together as he sat. “How are you doing?”

Andy just leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “I should be asking you that.”

Virgil chuckled. “I’ll be fine. How have you been holding up?”

Andy closed his eyes, looking exhausted. Virgil knew his twin like his own mind and there was something they needed to talk about. “I’ve been taking it one day at a time, Virgie. Don’t worry about me.”

Virgil laughed. “It’s my job to worry about you, silly.” He squeezed his twin’s hand as they began the meal. “We’ll talk about that later, okay?”

After the meal, Andy said he was going to be in his room so Virgil went to the garden to try to sketch out the Necklace design. He picked up the slate and writing utensils, bemoaning the loss of paper and pencil. Just as he was getting somewhere with the drawing, a knock sounded at the arch.

He looked up, hair floating in the midmorning current. “Yes?”

One of the royal guards was there, looking slightly annoyed. “Someone found a royal-finned out by the edge of town. He says he wants to talk to you.”

Virgil nodded, putting his drawings and thoughts aside. “Send him in, won’t you?” He tried to put on the princely mask he’d always worn for affairs of state like this but he found that it was eerily similar to the polite mask he’d worn at the party. An event he would rather not think of at the moment.

He had no idea who he was expecting to see but it certainly wasn’t the very person, the very human, he was trying to forget. Logan swam in, his hair a mess the current had used as a toy, his shirt rumpled and barely coming far enough down, and his legs in the form of an indigo tail that, despite Virgil’s best efforts, his brain categorized as complementary to his own and a color that looked very nice on the human prince. Logan smiled at him, his hand coming up for a tentative wave. It was the meekest Virgil had ever seen him and, despite all that had happened in the past day, it hurt.

Part of him was elated to see him again, to know that he was here with him instead of with the-. He couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. Instead, he waved the guard away and rose to stand. “What are you doing here? Better question, how did you get here?”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes scanning Virgil. The mer crossed his arms, acutely aware of just how many bands he had and how few rings. When Logan’s eyes met his again, the human took a deep breath with a wince, clearly not used to breathing water.

“It started at the cliff. I talked with the . . . entity that you gave the stone to. They gave me a tail for three days and I set off to find you. So, I swam for what must have been three hours before time and exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep. I woke to a . . .” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right word before eventually just gesturing to Virgil’s tail.

“Mer. We’re called ‘mer’.” Virgil supplied in a tone that conveyed more anger than the hurt he truly felt at seeing Logan here.

“Right, a mer. She asked me which blessing I came from and where my contingent was, claiming she’d never seen me in town before. I have no idea what she meant by blessing so I just asked for you and they brought me here.”

Virgil held up a hand. “What name did you ask for specifically?”

“Virgil. I asked to see a Virgil. I described the purple tail and the side fins,” he gestured to the ones that lined his own sides, “and they brought me here.”

Virgil nodded. “And why are you here?”

Logan frowned, awkwardly moving forward until he was as close as Virgil normally allowed. “Why wouldn’t I be here?” His tone made him sound as if he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

Virgil scoffed, throwing his arms wide. “Maybe because you played with my feelings for a few moons before asking to kiss someone else?”

Logan huffed out a breath, turning to the side slightly before turning back. “How about the lying? How about the consorting with that entity, leading me on all summer, the fake amnesia? How much of that was the truth?” He paused, hurt in his eyes. “Do you even truly care for me?”

That made Virgil snap, his heart shattering. “Out of all the questions to ask!” He had to take a second to run a hand down his face, batting at his floating hair. “Do you even know what I’ve been through in the past day, let alone the past four moons?” He paused for breath, sending a glare toward Logan when the human opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve been captured by pirates who wanted to sell me for profit, made a deal for my life with Remy, faked amnesia just to get that trinket of a necklace, fallen in love with a human and I might as well have betrayed my entire blessing in the process!” Only at the end did Virgil realize he’d been raising his volume the whole time and was now shouting at someone he’d once thought he’d never hurt.

Logan opened his mouth to give a rebuttal but paused. “Fallen in love? How would you be betraying your entire blessing by doing so?” His voice was softer and at a lower volume.

Virgil shook his head, feeling the headache that comes with tears. His voice was shaky but he managed. “No. You don’t get to hear all of my secrets and pain while I know you’re in love with someone else.”

“But I’m not!” Logan ran a hand through his hair uselessly. “I thought he was you!” This was quiet, barely drifting to him.

It was Virgil’s turn to pause, hand reaching to rub his aching eyes. “What?”

“It’s a story that most people would question the sanity of but suffice it to say that the person you saw, or think you saw, was a shapeshifter using your likeness.”

The space was silent for a time before Virgil sniffled. “Does that mean . . .?”

Logan nodded, coming just shy of Virgil’s personal space. “I had wanted to ask if I could kiss you before I professed undying love.”

Virgil smiled, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “Is it too late to accept the kiss?”

Logan shook his head as his hands came up to cradle Virgil’s cheeks. Virgil’s head dipped down and their lips connected. In that moment, Virgil could have sworn time had stopped. The kiss was sweet and short but it was also everything Virgil had dreamed it would be even before he’d known he wanted it.

“Now,” Logan said when they broke the kiss, “what was that about you betraying your blessing? And, what is a blessing?”

Virgil settled back down in his seat on the sea moss, turning the slate over and hiding the picture that now served a new purpose. “A blessing is a group of mer.” He waited as Logan settled by his side, tails intertwining. “The reason I might have betrayed my blessing by falling for you is that I was willing to give up my life here and live with you on the land. Typically, once a mer chooses to leave their blessing, they aren’t allowed back in.”

Logan took his hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “I’m grateful that you are willing to do that.”

Virgil leaned into him, his free hand sliding through the water to hover over Logan’s cheek. The human leaned into his palm and Virgil could have melted. “May I kiss you?” Virgil’s voice was a whisper that was almost a purr.

Logan smiled and leaned in.

Chapter 19

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @antisocial-xxxpert, @lizluvscupcakes, @more-fandon-than-friends, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart, @lila-lupus, @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun, @punk-academian-witch, @princedarkandstormv, @sirprplsnail, @sarcasmremovedsoul, @private-snippers, @mygenderisidiot, @mistythegirlfluxmess,

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#jots #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ct elliott #sanders shorts characters #adhd!virgil #mer!virgil #the little mermaid au #ace writes

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treeni · 4 years

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Sanders Sides Orange Side Predictions

Theories Masterpost

If you haven’t read @averykedavra‘s post on the idea then you absolutely should. It is extremely well thought out and considers a lot of possibilities about the Orange side, even though there are some specific thoughts that I personally disagree with, it is absolutely worth reading through.

First, I want to say I agree with them pointing out @dragonsaphirareads character Otto, aka “Obsession” as being a brilliant take on what the Orange character could be from a conceptual basis. I also think @candied-peach / Peachsneaker’s character Wrath is another brilliant take on the opposite side of the spectrum of the potential of what the orange side could be. Honestly, if you haven’t, you should check out these two creators' works immediately as they are both completely fantastic writers and have a lot of great Sanders Sides stories, both with and without romance.

My only gripe is that I think both characters are too inherently good in their depictions. Personally, I think both authors are right, to a point. I think the Orange character would be someone who cares too much and takes things too far. What’s interesting about DragonSapphiraRead’s character, is that he was once Passion and gave up parts of himself to the others. It’s interesting, but I personally don’t think that’s how it’s going to go.

Instead I think Passion is exactly the trait that the darkside character is going to embody and this is where I most agree with averykedavra’s take. I think the Orange side is going to come in as someone who appears “good,” “right,” and even “helpful” at first glance, and yet, you gradually start to realize the problems further on.

If you look at the progression of the darksides so far, you may notice that they have followed the rule of three in establishing a pattern. Virgil showed up and scared the others until his point got across until he was listened to, so really was it any surprise when both Janus and Remus immediately did the same upon their introductions? Given the divide, it took time and understanding to start being open to the good that Virgil brings. Janus has only just started to really prove to Thomas that he is well intentioned and Remus hasn’t even begun that part of the journey yet. However, you can see the three characters all in various states of the pattern that Virgil set. Virgil is at acceptance, Janus is at tolerance (or at least close to it) and Remus is still at distrust, but past the introduction and initial scare.Their actions have all followed the rule of three behavior that establishes a pattern for the audience to recognize. We inherently know Janus and Remus as being on the same “track” as Virgil was on a subconscious level.

Which is why I think the Orange side will absolutely destroy that expectation by diverting from that path and all current expectations of darksides. After a pattern of accepting the darksides, I think they will decide to immediately give the Orange side a chance because by then they will also have multiple examples of their shortsightedness about the darksides potential in helping Thomas.

I also think Orange will absolutely come in and appear good at first glance. This will probably happen after Janus is really, truly accepted by the other sides and Remus is at least on his way to being accepted. I also really liked averykedavra’s idea that the orange side gives his name immediately, but I disagree on the idea that he can hide his role. The roles are something that others have been shown to bring up to the group and be generally aware of. No side has had to introduce their role as far as I can remember.

However I actually think of this as further evidence for the side having the role of Passion instead of Wrath or Obsession. Because Passion seems good at baseline and is absolutely good if controlled. However, Passion also encapsulates things like Wrath, Obsession, Procrastination, and Spite.

Imagine if you will, a side that comes in dressed as seemingly innocuous in fandom gear and tee shirts with big smiles and excitement. He quickly and easily proclaims his excitement of all of the others’ work and is extremely supportive at the beginning. I could see CharacterThomas becoming quickly and easily attached to someone who seems so positive and relatable. I think he’d be a little like Patton at first glance, but more childish. There would be none of the “fatherly” care in him for example. He would seem interested in what the others would say and generally only make quiet additions to the conversation. In the beginning it seems as if he brings out the good in the other sides with his small bits of help and encouragement. Except, he doesn’t stop at small. Instead as the sides start to become used to his presence he starts pushing things further and further.

This side never lies, he doesn’t need to. He can manipulate the truth to do his bidding. He gently reminds Roman of all of the things he hasn’t yet achieved of his dreams. As a friend he pulls Patton aside to remind him of some of the bad things happening recently in the world, just to warn him of course. He asks for Logan’s help in clarifying some facts that might be a little uncomfortable, but definitely important. He gently nudges Virgil about some of the dangerous things that could have happened to Thomas and really? Isn’t he just lucky to have come out okay so far? And self-preservation? No, not even he’s safe as the side reminds him of the rocky state of his “supposed acceptance” until Janus’ doubts overtake him.

You think Thomas struggles in dealing with one of them acting in extremes? Just wait until they all are. Logan becoming obsessive, Roman becoming unfocused, Virgil becoming paranoid, Patton becoming hysterical, and even Janus literally walling himself away because he devolves into extreme self-defense. (Also possibly trying to hastily wall just him and Thomas away. Because defensive rationality.)

The vast differences between the caring Patton and this side become increasingly clear to the audience, but by this point it’s too late. The sides are (almost) all hanging on his every word.

Logan can’t outmaneuver manipulative honesty, Virgil can’t caution against it, Roman’s too restricted to find a creative solution for it. Even Patton and Janus are ineffective because not only does it sound and feel right, it also seems akin to some of Janus’ behavior of revealing “uncomfortable” truths that Thomas doesn’t want to hear.

I think this side is going to slowly drive the others into their own extreme biases until their own behaviors are so chaotic and restless they become literally unable to contribute to the conversation.

I also think that will be what makes this particular side terrifying. Instead of scaring the others into listening to him, he simply feeds into their own biases until they are so divided there is no longer a conversation.

You see, this side wouldn’t simply want to be a voice to be heard. He would want to be the only voice.

Okay, now for my justification as to why.

1. As I already mentioned before, we as humans like threes, comedians will list three things to establish a pattern and then add a fourth in a “one of these is not like the others” to make a joke. The best way to break a pattern is to flip expectation on its head. This side is already breaking that ideology simply by existing as a fourth darkside. He isn’t there to follow the others paths.

2. Janus and Remus’ religious dialogue that is telling of their own negative views of their lack of “inherent goodness” because they consistently use their own existences as proof of Thomas’ “inherent evilness.” While being revealing of their thought processes, I also believe it is a hint to the last side’s state as a Lucifer-like character in the classical sense of his intended perception. Not a demon, but an angel. Someone who believes they have done no wrong and tempts you on a personal level.

3. Also consider some of the things orange as a color symbolizes: encouragement, enthusiasm, and motivation, yes, but also ambition, domination, temptation, and warning.

It’s still loose evidence as we haven’t even met the side yet, but we as an audience can still derive a lot about him from the other characters.

Now that I’m here shoving all my opinions in your faces, I might as well go all out.

I am currently two for three on darkside names so I’m going to throw my hat in and tell you my guess on that too.

If the new Orange side follows my predictions I also think he will be named Aiden.

Why? First, it means “fiery one” which is a perfect association for both passion and the color orange. It also mimics a “light side” name without quite fitting in with the “en” ending. Additionally, like most names, it is a modernization of older names and this particular one has derivative connections to both the Celtic god of sun and fire “Aodh” and the Greek god “Aidoneus” otherwise known as Hades. (Also keep in mind that Lucifer’s name means Morningstar, aka the sun.) Finally, the word “Aid” is literally in the name to give the impression of innocence.

And that is my TED talk.

#sanders sides #orange side #prediction #headcannon?#sanders sides theory #theory #passion theory #longpost #textpost #sscolortheory #thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #treeni theory

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kieraswriting · 4 years

Text

Coffin Chapter Five

Masterpost

The humans were all gone. Roman had left first. He didn’t seem to spend much time at the house. Logan and Patton had left later on.

Virgil had been here for a few weeks now. He was allowed to do what he wanted in the basement, except at night, when the cell was locked again. There wasn’t much to do. There were several games in the cabinets, but most games required two or more people. Logan brought down some books, and that would have been nice, had they been anything he could understand. They were very technical, and not in subjects he knew much about. So Virgil ended up playing a whole lot of solitaire and making card houses.

There was a familiar sound from above him. The front door was being opened. Odd. He’d thought they would be away for much longer.

“Patton! Are you home?”

Ok, no. That was not any of their voices. A friend maybe?

Footsteps went all over the downstairs, and then probably the upstairs, where Virgil couldn’t hear as well.

“Go away,” he muttered. “They aren’t home.”

Virgil put the cards back in the package.

Then the footsteps came to the basement door. It was locked. He was sure. He hadn’t checked, but he knew they always locked the basement door. He’d be safe down here. But he hadn’t checked!

Then he heard a key being turned in the lock and the door opening. Virgil raced into the cell and pulled the door shut. He didn’t watch where he put his hand, and got a burn from the silver, but it would heal soon enough.

“Hello? Is someone down here?”

Crap. He should’ve just been quiet and still.

A man came down the stairs. He was in his forties or fifties, but clearly the kind of man that took pride in his strength. But looking at his face, Virgil had no doubt that he was related to Patton. He carried two silver pistols openly on his hips, and probably all those pockets had other implements for either capturing or killing vampires. He had a badge on his chest that proclaimed him to be a Vampire Hunter.

All hunters smelled bad, like Death herself had shared her perfume with them, but this was the worst Virgil had smelled yet. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t smelled it as soon as the front door opened.

He also hasn’t known that hunters were open like this. He’d heard stories of hunters before, but that was because he was always around vampires. Some people were still suspicious that vampires existed, how were hunters able to just declare themselves like this?

“Oh, are you the one sent to Patton?” The man asked.

Virgil didn’t make any kind of reply. He didn’t know him. He didn’t owe him anything, not even a reply. He just hoped the man wouldn’t try to come into the cell.

“Not very aggressive, are you?” The man walked further into the room, noting the cards on the table.

Virgil watched warily. There was no way that the man didn’t realize the door was unlocked. Roman had come in. If the man kept coming closer, he might come in as well.

“Haven’t even got a muzzle on or anything…” the man said, turning to stare at Virgil. “I bet if I came in there you wouldn’t try to bite me, would you?”

Virgil’s breathing sped up. He did not want some strange dude coming any closer.

“No, that was a question. Answer me. If I came in, would you bite me?” The man’s voice had turned harsh and commanding.

Virgil shook his head.

The intensity faded away. The man pulled a massive key right out of a pocket, and searched for awhile. He found the right key, and locked the cell. Virgil wasn’t sure how he had keys to everything, but he didn’t doubt that this man would shoot him if he protested to anything.

After locking the cell, the man went back upstairs. Virgil could hear him, either talking to himself oddly or on several different phone calls. It was another three hours before Patton got home.

•^*^••

Patton got home and was surprised to find the front door unlocked. He was sure that he’d locked it when he left.

“Oh, Pat!” He heard his dad say as he stepped inside.

“Dad! Hi!” Patton stepped around the corner to the living room and stopped dead. “What are you wearing?”

His dad grinned, looking down at the numerous tools of the trade that were attached very visibly to his clothes. “You know I had a meeting with the board today.”

“Yes…” Patton frowned slightly. “I thought you were going to call and tell me how it went.”

“It’s all far too big to say over the phone.”

Patton sat down. “Ok. What happened?”

“We’ve decided that we’ve been wrong, doing things the way we’ve been.”

Patton nodded.

“Now, China still disagrees, and several from Africa and one from Canada, but all of the European representatives completely agree with us.”

“Wait, this was a big board meeting? I thought it wasn’t bigger than America.” Patton interrupted.

“Well, it wasn’t going to be, but once we decided, we went ahead and contacted the other branches, and set up a whole big thing!”

Patton nodded again.

“So, it’s been decided that hunters should become public.”

“What?!”

“I know! But it’s been a long time coming. We can only do so much if we can’t let anyone know about it. Even silver guns are still pretty loud.”

“But I thought that the whole reason of keeping it a secret was to avoid people panicking.”

“Yes, but when we weighed a few weeks of panic against the lives vampires could be taking while we slink around, trying to do things slowly, it’s been decided that we should just out with the whole thing.”

“You think they’ll all be caught in a few weeks?”

“Eh, not all, but I’d say 90% is a safe bet. If the vampires get exposed, we’ll have people handing them in left and right.”

“But if people try to hand them in, those people could get hurt.”

His dad shrugged. “Not more people than the other option. So, because of all this, we’re gonna get badges, and I’m working on getting the police to work with us, it’s gonna be so much to do!”

Patton nodded, a bit dazed. “Yeah, I see the badge. What are you going to do with all the vampires? Surely there isn’t that much room to hold them all.”

“We have a decent amount of room, but what we’re going to do is have them split up between the ones that are controllable, and uncontrollable. The uncontrollable ones we’ll stake, and the controllable ones we’ll work with to give something back to the community. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Patton squeaked.

“Sure! You’ve always been able to get nearly any vampire to do what you wanted inside of a week. I’ve been downstairs, noticed how well trained that one is already. You could really help with this, Pat.”

“It’s… it’s a lot, Dad. I don’t know yet.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine! You’ll just have to show a couple of our guys how you do things, and then they’ll be able to do their parts by themselves. It’ll be good practice for you, make it easier for you to take over my job one day.”

Patton turned his instinctive grimace into a kind of a smile. “Yeah… I guess, knowing the people already would make it easier.”

“It’s not just knowing them, Pat. It’s taking a leadership role. You’ll lead the hunters, and they’ll see your natural genius with vampires, and you’ll start making the important connections you’ll need when you get to be my age.”

“It’s still just a lot, Dad. I think I need time to think it over.”

“No, you don’t understand, we’re doing this today.”

“Today?! Why?”

“The sooner the better! We’re going to jump them, before any news can leak out and they hide away. I’m expecting you to come with me tonight on the first big hunt.”

“I—I just, I’ve only just heard about this—“

“Let me rephrase this, if you don’t come tonight, not only will I be disappointed in you, but I’ll be embarrassed in front of a very large group of people.”

Patton froze.

“And frankly, I’m surprised that you aren’t excited about this.”

Patton could handle his dad being upset with him, it happened. He could even handle him being disappointed, though that definitely hurt more. But how could he embarrass his Dad? And publicly? And he’d be doing it on purpose. He couldn’t. He could just do that.

“I’ll be there. When does it start?”

“Sunset. I’ve brought you and your friends badges. I’d love to stay until then, but I’ve got to contact the rest of the hunters in this part of the country, and there’s not much time left now.” He stood up and set three of the badges on the table. “I can’t wait to see you again tonight.”

Pat mustered up a weak smile.

“I love you, Pat.”

Patton accepted the hug his dad offered. “Love you too.”

•^*^••

Virgil had been listening carefully to the conversation going on above him. It sounded bad. Really bad.

He knew that they were hunters, but hearing Patton’s dad talk so casually about staking large numbers of vampires, and probably enslaving the rest, sent a cold chill through him.

Then Patton’s dad left, and Patton started downstairs.

“Virgil?”

Virgil wasn’t sure what to say. “...hi.”

“Are you alright? My dad said he came down here earlier.”

And then Virgil was reminded that he was talking with Patton. Patton who was kind, and tried to be considerate even to a vampire. Patton who could possibly be convinced.

“I-I heard you two talking…” Virgil said, testing the waters.

Patton’s eyes went wide, and then a little ashamed.

“Patton, please, don’t help do something like this.”

“I have to.”

“No, you really don’t. It’s not even— I don’t know why you do any of it. You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“My dad lost my mom and my brother, and nearly me too, to vampires. I can’t leave him. He needs me.”

“But surely you don’t have to do this. Surely you don’t want to!”

“I don’t want to hurt innocent people, vampires or human, but most vampires aren’t innocent, Virgil. You aren’t like most of them.”

“Your dad doesn’t want to find out who’s innocent.” Virgil said, leaning against the bars of the cell. “He wants to find which of them are useful as slaves and kill the rest.”

Patton sat down heavily, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “There isn’t anything else I can do. I can’t go against my dad. I won’t.”

“If you don’t, you let innocent people get hurt. And die.”

Patton squeezed his eyes shut, and tears leaked out. “I know…” he whispered.

The door upstairs opened. “Patton? I’m home.” It was Logan’s voice.

“Um…” Patton swiped tears off of his face. “I’m downstairs!” His voice sounded shockingly happier to Virgil.

Soon Logan came down the stairs. Of course he noticed Patton’s slightly blotchy face, but didn’t comment.

“Is there some sort of conversation going on?”

“Yeah, my dad came by. It’s uh,” Patton gave a dry laugh. “It’s pretty big news.”

He explained quickly to Logan.

“I see. And what are your thoughts on this?”

Patton shook his head. “I don’t know. I have a lot of thoughts, but they’re all twisted up right now.”

Logan nodded understandingly. “And what are your thoughts, Virgil?”

“I think it’s going to catch a whole lot of people that didn’t do anything wrong.” Virgil said bitterly.

Logan nodded, a curious look on his face. “And what percentage of the vampire population would you believe is similar to you? In their desire not to hurt others, primarily.”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know that many vampires.”

“Then what leads you to believe that such a large number of people caught in this effort would be innocent?”

Virgil shrugged, but gritted his teeth anyway.

“I truly am interested in your opinion and thought process.” Logan said. “Please elaborate. I am unable to understand you from mere shoulder movements.”

“Just— they can't all be violent! It’s not like we lose out feelings or memories when we get turned. Even if they do hurt people, they could be doing it on accident, or they felt like they were driven to it. And… and I’m also scared. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anyone else, ever. But this sounds almost worse, and he was talking as if it would be a lot of people.”

“I’m going to infer that you also are concerned that you would be thrust into a difficult or painful position again, correct?”

Virgil chewed on his lip, but nodded.

“Your concerns are valid. I do not know precisely how to address them at this time, but your points are still valid. I personally intend to go this evening, if only to gather more information. I would be open to another conversation upon my return.”

“It’s not the time for information gathering!” Virgil insisted. “They’re going to be killing people tonight. Maybe a lot of people.”

“I personally do not believe that there will be many, if any casualties tonight. I believe that many others will be caught just as off guard as we have been. The hunters, while certainly more energetic, ought not to be any more efficient than usual. And they will be in the open. Any vampires will have adequate time to find a place to hide for a night.”

Patton looked downright hopeful at hearing this.

“In the next four weeks, however, there is indeed a potential for much bloodshed, and it will likely be influenced by the events of this evening. I find it imperative that I be there as a witness.”

Patton was nodding.

The front door banged open. “Guys! Have you heard the news?! Patton? Logan?”

“Downstairs!” Patton called.

Roman bounded down the stairs, the most exuberant Virgil has seen him yet. “Have you heard?! This could be it for me!”

“Yes, we have heard, Roman.” Logan said calmly. “And yes, you could possibly ‘make a name for yourself’ this evening.” He even did air quotes for the expression, which Virgil found amusing.

“You just… you have to be careful what kind of name.” Patton said, his face creased with worry again.

Roman was practically bouncing up and down with excitement, for once not deterred by Virgil’s presence, a badge already pinned to his shirt.

•^*^••

On the tv, playing in Thomas’s house, came a woman’s voice.

“It seems that the hunters have finally found a vampire. We have not confirmed this fact yet. They’ve— oh. Oh, dear God, they’ve torn it apart… No! Do not put the camera near it. Oh. Oh God.”

Thomas turned the tv off. He knew that Dee had to have heard, even from his hiding place. He put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. Life was about to become a nightmare.

•^*^••

When Virgil heard the humans get back in the early morning, there was the unmistakable sound of crying.

#sanders sides #vampire au #vampires #blood #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #remy sleep #my own work #coffin #violence #speciesism #vampire virgil #platonic moxiety

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starlocked01 · 4 years

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So Happy Together

AO3 @tsshipmonth2020

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan can feel when his soulmate's day goes from amazing to the worst possible day of his life. Ironically, this helps the stoic man comfort an abandoned groom who reaches out in despair.

CW Unsympathetic Virgil and Roman

Day 5 Logicality- You and your Soulmate feel each other’s strongest emotions

Logan was having an adequate day. Nothing had gone horribly wrong or fallen short of his expectations. So the intense happiness he felt all morning must be coming from his soulmate. It was worrisome when the happiness flipped to sudden crushing sadness. He wondered briefly what could have happened to cause such distress for this person but quickly put the thought behind him as he walked through town.

Ahead on the sidewalk, he saw two men in dark suits comforting another man in a white suit who was sitting on the curb and bawling his eyes out. Logan looked to the building and realized it was a cathedral. This couldn't be good.

Logan tried to keep his head down and walk past but the man in white called out to him.

"Did you see a guy in a purple tux run that way?" the man looked up at Logan with watery eyes, magnified by wire-rimmed glasses.

"No, I'm sorry. Perhaps he went that way?" Logan pointed off the direction he was walking.

The man in white burst into a fresh round of tears. Logan felt the ache of profound sadness in his chest and almost felt he could empathize with this man, even without knowing the situation.

"Oh, if I ever find Virgil, well let's just say there isn't a flight of stairs tall enough for him to fall from," one of the men in a dark tux scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Does it have to be stairs? Like that could kill him.." the other said hesitantly.

"Roman, he left me at the altar!"

"Yes, I understand that, Patton. But I mean, I'm not surprised he got cold feet. He was nervous during the whole wedding planning process," Roman kept speaking.

"Roman, if you don't shut your mouth…" the unnamed one said.

Logan felt trapped in the situation, both because of the loud argument and the strong feeling of empathy he had for the abandoned groom, Patton. He made a decision and sat down next to Patton on the curb.

"Was he your soulmate?" Logan tried to ask as delicately as he personally could manage.

"I- I don't know. It's so hard to tell, you know? But I love him and he ran away… everyone is in there and now I'm nothing but a joke and their gossip for the next month!" Patton's lip quivered as he wiped tears from his eyes. The two groomsmen kept bickering and Logan felt overwhelmed with no way to comfort the man.

He decided to be honest about why he stopped in the first place, "Patton, right? My soulmate is also feeling incredibly sad at this moment. So, I get it. At least in part. I'm sorry he did that to you; you don't deserve heartbreak," Logan took a deep breath. He was not comfortable talking about these emotions.

"Th-thank you, sir. I appreciate you trying to help. What's your-" Patton was interrupted by another man in a different shade of dark suit busting out of the front doors of the church.

"What the fuck is going on out here? Everyone's dying of heatstroke waiting for our blushing grooms- where's Virgie?"

"Remus, Virgil ran. Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on him?" the groomsman who wanted to push the runaway fiance down a flight of stairs gave the newcomer a steely-eyed glare.

Remus looked wide-eyed and utterly surprised, pointing to himself, "me? Janus, I thought that Roman was watching him!"

The three groomsmen kept fighting. Patton looked like he was about to lose it again.

"Ah, maybe he'll come back, realizing his mistake?" Logan tried to console the stranger that he felt too connected to. The sadness in his chest softened with a thrill of hope and Patton looked up from the street to him.

"Do you really think he might?"

"Ah, Patton, what if… Virgil found his soulmate? And decided he'd rather be with…. him?" Roman asked entirely too suspiciously.

Janus and Logan both looked hard at Roman. Logan suspected that Janus could smell the same figurative rat he could.

"Look, Patton, I am very sorry for you. This might have been a better outcome than it feels like right now. I hope you feel better soon," Logan stood to leave when Patton grabbed his hand.

"Wait!" Patton sniffed, "what's your name? You really didn't have to stop and try to comfort me, that was really kind of you," Patton gave a weak smile.

Logan felt his cheeks flush, "ah, Logan. Logan Crawford." He pulled his hand free and sped walk down the street, feeling confused and grateful? He could hear Janus and Roman arguing more, accusations flying about the best man running off with the groom as soon as the wedding was called off. Patton, whoever he was, had almost certainly avoided a sham of a marriage when this Virgil character left.

Logan’s thoughts didn't return to the ruined wedding for several weeks until his daily trip to the local cafe was sweetly interrupted.

"Logan? Is that you?" Logan looked up at the voice which was familiar but his memory could not place it. As their eyes met, he recognized the sobbing groom, Patton.

"Oh, Patton. Hello," Logan stated simply.

"Logan! Oh, I can't thank you enough! You were right, it was a good thing Virgil ran away," Patton sniffed and Logan felt an ache of regret and betrayal all too apropos for the situation. "He uh, he had been cheating on me… it kinda tore the whole friend group apart…" Patton looked like he was about to cry and Logan wondered how he'd accidentally made himself an emotional backboard for this stranger. "But the important thing is that we didn't end up married and unhappy!" Logan could see right through the miserable fake smile.

"Ah, I'm sorry that sounds awful," Logan tapped his pen on the cafe table.

"Oh gosh, sorry! I wear my heart on my sleeve. You probably didn't want to hear any of that," Patton flushed with embarrassment. Logan was getting worried for his soulmate who also was feeling embarrassed mixed with nervousness. "Um, can I join you for coffee?"

Logan nodded. Why not? He wasn't needed at the lab for at least two more hours. Patton walked off to order while Logan did a short meditative exercise. His soulmate often had strong emotions whereas he did not, so sometimes it was difficult to tell when he was feeling something subtle underneath his soulmate’s ocean of feelings. He wasn't embarrassed, he didn’t have any particular reason to feel nervous. Logan was very relaxed so most of these conflicting feelings must be coming from his soulmate. Poor man must be having a rough time lately.

"You know Logan, you remind me a lot of the things I loved about Virgil, before.. well you know," Patton spoke as he sat down, coffee in hand.

"How so?" Logan asked, curious about the comparison.

"Well, my soulmate doesn't have a lot of strong emotions. I've felt intense anger and satisfaction on occasion, but most of the time he must be pretty content. Virgil was very laid back and chill, so I kinda assumed he was my soulmate.. until he had a panic attack and I felt nothing… gosh! What I mean is that you have a very calm presence. It's comforting," Patton grinned sheepishly.

"Well, I have never been very emotionally vulnerable. I know I've endeavored to maintain a rational outlook on life. Emotions are complicated and blowing them out of proportion just hurts both me and my soulmate," Logan replied, surprised how much he was willing to open up to this slowly growing acquaintance.

Over the next few weeks, Patton "found" Logan at the coffee shop several times and they spent time talking. Pretty quickly they moved away from talking about heartbreak and soulmates, preferring to find common interests or even just introduce each other to their own favorite topics. Patton was fascinated with Logan's research and Logan couldn't help but admire Patton's enthusiasm for library sciences.

Logan grew to look forward to these meetings, and when they did talk about emotions he felt his own metaphorical heart filling with genuine care for the kindhearted man.

Patton couldn't keep up the pretense much longer and soon asked for Logan’s number so they could arrange meetings rather than him manufacturing accidental ones. His heart had felt warm and happy during the coffee shop meetups, and Logan’s presence always lifted his spirits in a way his ex never had. The first time they set up a dinner meet up, Patton felt an uncharacteristic panic while getting ready. That was new. It must- could his soulmate actually be feeling panicked?? Patton thought extra hard about the date dinner, wanting to give his soulmate a boost of happy to help with the panic. It seemed to work as the panic dwindled down to nervousness that Patton couldn't really tell who it was coming from.

Logan was a wreck. He didn't know what you were supposed to wear for dinner with a friend acquaintance. And he really wanted to make a good impression on Patton of whom he was growing rather fond. And he was out of Crofters, otherwise he would absolutely be slamming half the jar to calm his nerves. He felt a sudden wave of happiness and anticipation. Did his soulmate do that on purpose for him? It was very effective at drowning out the panic he was feeling.

Both men felt a sharp joy seeing each other at the restaurant. The entire evening was so pleasant and both left the dinner date with fuzzy feelings of admiration and happiness.

Patton suspected Logan might be his soulmate. Logan had a strong knack for knowing when he was trying to hide sorrows and fears, even when he didn't want his new boyfriend to know anything was wrong.

More importantly, Patton could feel stronger emotions coming from his soulmate more often and even if he wasn't Logan, Patton was very happy that his soulmate was opening up.

Patton found himself screaming during their first fight and when he realized what he was doing he stopped cold. The intense anger was so foreign to him, he felt awful. Logan didn't deserve this level of vitriol, no matter how upset they each were.

Logan’s anger melted into regret and shame as Patton apologized for going so overboard. Logan pushed this argument farther than it needed to go. He should be the one apologizing for his anger. It was all too much. Until Patton shared his theory and Logan had to agree it seemed like the only rational explanation for both of their outbursts.

They made a better effort to communicate each of their own emotions and found the strongest ones were always mirrored between the two of them. But by the time they realized they had to be soulmates they really didn't need the confirmation anymore. They would have been happy together and in love with each other anyway.

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #logicality #sanders sides #soulmate au #prinxiety #unsympathetic virgil #unsympathetic roman #angst #hurt comfort

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sun-spark · 4 years

Text

Shadow's of the Past Haunt and Creative Monsters Hide

In celebration of a new Sander Sides Episode, I finally finished editing the 36 page fic that has been completed since March of 2018. Yes, 2 years. No, don’t ask and take it up with my depression.

Summary:

Directly 'After Can Lying Be Good?' Thomas and the sides make an effort to accept Deceit as part of their famILY and see past his function to his personality, much like they did with Virgil, not wanting to have a repeat of when the anxious trait had disappeared with Deceit. As the half-snake gets more comfortable with them Thomas starts to notice that he is always tense, waiting for something, and he intends to find out what it is. Before he can ask carefully the thing Deceit was afraid of comes back from eh past to haunt them all.

The mysterious thing from Deceit and Virgil's isn't the only thing to return, as Roman loses control and is forced to deal with his other half, long hidden and unknown to the others...well most of them.

Warnings: Reference/Past Abuse (Verbal, Physical, Emotional) - This is stated not described.

Tags: Sympathetic Deceit, Protective Thomas, Protective Virgil, Protective Roman, Protective Logan, Caring Patton, Hurt Deceit, Hurt Roman, Hurt Virgil, Hidden Side, Hurt/Comfort, FamILY, Healing, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Angst.

Ao3 Link: Here

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

It was hardly easy, but Thomas had been making an effort to make Deceit feel like part of the family, as had the others, not wishing to repeat what had happened with Virgil. True, none of them were particularly fond of what he represented, but they attempted to set aside his function and focus on the person behind it, and they had to admit that sometimes his function was self-preservation for Thomas’ sake rather than a source of darkness. It was a rocky journey to be sure, unlearning stiff morals they’d had ingrained from childhood. It had taken some time for Deceit to drop his walls and let them in, to stop snarling and spitting lies dripping with cruelty every time they addressed him.

Things were better, though still tense. Patton took to it the best, practically shoveling food at his new ‘snakey-kiddo’ when he realized how thin he was, and layering blankets on top of him at every random interval. The abrupt and energetic affection made Deceit jumpy and elicited many hisses out of him, but he soon learned to just accept it, startling a bit and settling with an eye-roll as Patton bumbled around him affectionately.

Logan had “seen the logic in treating the other as a member of the group rather than ostracizing him, after all his function is not to harm you or us, Thomas” and had, as such, made an effort to converse with the lying trait whenever possible. It had been frustrating for both of them, Deceit not used to calm conversation that didn’t hide danger, and Logan annoyed at having to flip all of Deceit’s words around to mean the opposite. It didn’t help when Patton laughed gleefully and said he was “proud of his kiddos for playing opposites!”

Virgil, oddly, had been both the worst and the best of them. He knew what it was like to be shunned and hated for a nature he couldn’t change, but Deceit’s very nature made him uneasy. Their attempts at cohabitation had been halting and tense at first, but eventually they settled into a truce on the common ground of them both acting to keep Thomas safe above all else, even if neither of them liked how the other went about it. These two could often be found silently curled up near each other, sharing the silence as they read or scrolled through their phones. To the others, it seemed tense, but Deceit and Virgil both appreciated the calm nature of their time together.

Thomas had shocked all of them when he had not only been the first one to suggest they include Deceit, but when he had gone the extra length of summoning the half-snake for the sole purpose of keeping him company. All of them, especially Deceit, had expected their host to be hostile towards the manifestation of his deception, but apparently the young man’s kindness had won over his apprehension.

Deceit spent nearly a month waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Patton to disown him, which had admittedly come to a few close calls with the strict-moral compass the side had. Waiting for Logan to snap and yell at him in anger, shunning him permanently and attacking his core with cold facts. Waiting for Virgil to finally bare his teeth and tear at him with claws and teeth alike. Waiting for Thomas to either admit it was helpless or drop the charade of pretending he didn’t despise everything Deceit was. But it never happened, none of it, and, albeit haltingly, Deceit started to hope that maybe he was truly welcome.

The only problem was Roman, and Thomas became aware of this as Deceit began popping up more and more often, unbidden and uncalled. He didn’t really mind, the half-snake wasn’t obtrusive, and he seemed kind of lonely when he first showed up, though he denied that relentlessly. At first, he thought his Deceitful side was just more comfortable with him, that he was beginning to feel more included, and that had made him happy, but then little things had started to catch his notice. Deceit still startled when Patton popped up, but he began looking around with wide eyes, every muscles tense, as if waiting for an attack, even though Patton wanted nothing more than to wrap him in blankets, knowing the half-snake ran cold. He tensed when Logan rose up to speak with him, eyes darting to the corner nervously as he carried on the conversation, and Thomas watched, noting how he seemed ready to bolt. When Virgil appeared and flopped on the couch next to him, Deceit jumped before settling, but his eyes stayed on the tv, though nothing played on its black surface. Thomas hung back and observed, frowning as the progress they had made seemed to be erasing itself, replaced with an ever-growing fear.

He had pulled Virgil aside briefly and asked him about it, but the dark trait had only shrugged. “He’s worried about somethin’. Darn near terrified, but I dunno what.”

That hadn’t been the answer he wanted, but it was the only one Virgil had to give, so Thomas resigned himself to watching and taking note of Deceit’s reactions to, and interactions with, the others. He watched for nearly another month after the first, silently taking it all in to examine later. More than one night found him without sleep as the niggling pit of worry in his stomach kept his focus. As he stared at his ceiling late in the night, he would examined Deceit’s reactions to each side in turn, and how their interactions had changed. Thing was, at nearly three months since they had accepted him as part of the family, they hadn’t changed in any massive way. He still quietly submitted to Patton’s excessive affection with eye-rolls and snarky comments. He still sat in companionable silence with Virgil with occasional conversation and sibling-esq bickering. He still debated with Logan, and while that had not become less tense, it also had not become more so. He and Roman…Thomas sat up wide-eyed with realization.

Three months and he had never seen Deceit interact with Roman outside of a few videos. Indeed, the snake-like side had always managed to disappear when the fanciful side showed up to talk with Thomas or one of the others when they were manifested. He would go silent and slip away as quietly as he could, while Roman held the attention of everyone else, not to reappear until Roman was gone once again. He thought about it for a moment, a sick feeling twisting in his gut. When one side showed up Deceit would scan the area where the others normally stood, as well as the rest of the room, before turning his attention to his companion, panic lessening only when his scan was complete. His eyes were always drawn to the corner, to the tv, whether it played something or not...where Roman usually stood. Thomas had seen that mentions of Disney or theatre, or any point that usually sparked an argument with the creative trait elicited muted panic from Deceit. He just hadn’t made the connection, assuming that Deceit either didn’t enjoy Disney films or loud conflict.

Thomas frowned as he lay back down. Was Roman acting toward Deceit as he once had Virgil? He had hoped that Roman had learned better than that by now. Or perhaps things were merely tense between them because of Deceit’s manipulation of the creative trait months ago? He wanted an answer to these questions, but…. he sighed, he wasn’t going to summon them and risk accidentally cornering Deceit and making him panic with his queries. Or getting Roman defensive and hostile. He would wait, he wasn’t sure for how long, but he needed a better plan than that.

***

As fate would have it, finicky mistress with a twisted sense of humor that she was, he never got to make a better plan, though he did get the answers to his questions, just not how he would have liked.

Very rarely did all the sides, or even more than one or two of them, gather in Thomas’s physical living room if they were not filming a video or if he wasn’t having a crisis, but today was different. Thomas was relaxing on the couch, Logan was reading a novel in the armchair, Patton was ‘doing’ a puzzle on the floor, meaning he was haphazardly putting the pieces together, Virgil was curled up on the other couch on his phone, and Deceit was contentedly curled up under Thomas’s arm like an adorable puppy, half asleep. He’d figured out rather quickly after Deceit had started to trust them that the half-snake trait got cold very easily and would take almost any excuse to leech body heat from someone else, not that Thomas or Virgil, his usual ‘victims’, minded. The only one missing from their gathering was Roman. That was soon to change as the Prince rose in his regular spot, boisterous voice filling the room without warning.

“Thomas! About the next video, I was just thinking, and we should totally-“ he stopped as his eyes fell on Deceit, who had gone tense and wide-eyed but was unable to sink out, held as he was to Thomas’s side. Roman crossed his arms over his chest, both eyes and tone falling flat and cold. “What is he doing here?”

Thomas’s brow tic’ed up as he looked at Roman, his own voice betraying nothing of his sudden annoyance. “He spends quite a bit of time here, Roman, which you’d know if you spent any time with him.” It was a mild reproach for not making an effort, and he certainly wasn’t expecting the response he got as the prince’s eyes quite literally flashed an amber color in anger before returning to brown.

“Spend time with him?” Ah, well, storms were so often calm before they roared. “Why the hell would I want to spend time with that vermin?!” The prince spat. Deceit curled into Thomas’s side as Virgil grit his teeth, unconsciously settling into a tense posture, fight or flight gearing up. To his side, Logan set his book down, cold steel in calm eyes as he gazed between Roman and Deceit. Patton went still, trembling as if sadness and anger and shock were warring inside him and he couldn’t decide which to settle on. Thomas leveled a glare at roman.

“What. Was. That?” Virgil flinched minutely, having never heard such an icy hard tone from the normally joyful man, but Thomas paid him no mind as his attention remained on a now agog Roman. The fanciful side recovered from his shock quickly, red flushing his features with anger, venom rivaling any snake’s lacing his words. “You heard me, Thomas.” He scoffed “I have no wish to consort with the likes of that snake. I fail to see why you would!”

Thomas tightened his arm around Deceit ever so slightly, stopping the increasingly nervous side from leaving. “I wish to spend time with Deceit because he is a part of me. Part of me that I care about. And he is far more than his job Roman, which you would know if you made any effort to know him.”

Roman scoffed, a hand waving through the air dismissively. “Oh please, Thomas! He is a villain. There is not a single good thing he can do. All he does is lie and hurt us, and you, and your friends when he influences you! He is a dark side!”

No one noticed Virgil flinch a second time, wounded eyes glaring at Roman. Deceit couldn’t take anymore, he had had enough. He lurched off the couch, tearing himself from Thomas’s grip, teeth bared and eyes glaring furiously as he stood before Roman, the several feet between them irrelevant as he spat. “And you most certainly aren’t one yourself, Pride!”

Deceit went still, his eyes going wide as the blood drained from his face. He clapped a hand over his own mouth, terror at his own words clear as he began shaking. Logan stared at him, emotionless and evaluating, while Patton was momentarily jolted out of his inner conflict for sorrow or rage by shock. Virgil jolted into a standing position, fight or flight thrown into overdrive to the point of short-circuiting, eyes widening to show more white than color as his gaze locked onto Roman, seeing him in a way he hadn’t before. Roman, for his part, had gone still, ice creeping in where a moment ago there had been fire. Everything remained still a moment, a single long echoing click sounding through the room as the clock’s hand moved, before the tense silence was broken as Roman audibly snarled. He lunged forward and grasped the sides of Deceit’s collar, lips pulled back in a snarl. “You take that back you foul creature! I am not like you!”

Thomas stood quickly, Roman’s name catching on his tongue, as Virgil made a jerky movement forward and halted again, fight to flight unsure how to handle the current situation as memories of another royal side flooded his memory, blocking his desperate wish to protect Deceit. Patton stood with a cry of “Roman-!” but stumbled and Logan gripped the sides of his chair with white knuckles, eyes fastened unblinkingly on the dispute before him, ready to move should he need to, but unwilling to act before he understood what the hell was going on.

Deceit, despite his trembling, bit back his fear, figuring the only way to handle this was to face the monster he had just unchained, though his anger may have fueled that particular, ill-advised, plan. He pulled his lips back in a snarl of his own, glaring furiously at the other. “What? Don’t want everyone else to see you for who you aren’t?” He got his footing, regaining his balance despite Roman’s hold on him. “Or don’t you want to not look at yourself?” His tone turned mocking, despite the hatred in his sneer and the fear in his chest. “Pity, you used to ~love~ nothing more, what with all those mirrors you didn’t used to have in your room, Pride.”

Roman’s eyes flashed in pure rage, a snarling growl wrenching out of his throat as he pulled Deceit closer to him roughly, one hand raised into a fist as if to strike the smaller side. “That is not my name!” He roared furiously.

Deceit looked up into no longer brown eyes, seeing the chains falling away and the creature so long caged inside coming out. He began to shake in earnest, mindless terror wiping any trace of bravery from his being.

Thomas moved, quickly grabbing hold of Deceit’s shoulders and pulling him back sharply, resulting in the smaller stumbling back and landing against their host’s chest. Thomas’s arms encircled him protectively as he stared at the enraged side before him, shock, but not quite fear lancing through his tone. “Roman! That is enough!”

The side in questions growled, stalking forward a step, his eyes only for Deceit. Patton’s eyes caught on Roman’s chest and he stumbled up from the floor, a cry on his lips as worry won out over rage and sorrow both. “Roman, stop it!” He made to grab the other, but Logan stood swiftly, an arm outstretched to stop the movement. Patton stopped and stared at him wide-eyed, Logan only shook his head silently. The moral side swallowed thickly and nodded, holding still. Thomas bared his teeth. “Princey, I’m warning you, enough already!”

The royal trait paid him no mind, gaze locked on the half-snake trait who was pressing back against Thomas fearfully, yet meeting his eyes defiantly. He’d be damned if he was going to go out sniveling. Virgil’s fight-or-flight response finally pulled out of its spiraling nose dive and he jolted forward through the step he had frozen halfway through. He stared at Roman, eyes wide with fright, chest beginning to heave in preparation to hyperventilate, still, he kept his tone even, dripping in panic though it was. “Roman.” The other didn’t acknowledge him. ‘Damn it. He can’t be! Please, he can’t!! …but his eyes…’ he took a shaky breath and stalled his mounting panic.

“Roman. Your eyes are red.” Red. Orange. Gold. Amber. Colored like fire and shifting wildly in rage.

Roman jerked back as if physically struck, eyes breaking away from Deceit and flying to Virgil in near panic. “No.” His voice was tight, fear coating it, freezing the flames of his rage. ‘nononononono!!! Not again! No! This can’t be happening….this is just a nightmare! Not real, notrealnotrealnotrealnonononono!’ he stumbled back, hands tangling in his own hair as his breaths began to come in short bursts, half the words in his head, the other mumbled frantically.

Patton’s timid voice filtered through his racing thoughts from where the father figure was protectively held behind Logan’s side. “Ro…what’s wrong with your chest?”

Roman’s eyes flew to his chest, wide and panicked, and took in a sight he’d hoped never to see again. An inky blackness was seeping through his pristine white clothes, a pinprick starting over his heart, spreading out like an oil spill. It clung to him and stretched, arching away from his body like a living darkness. He stumbled back another step, panic clear in every line of his body as his hands frantically clawed at the darkness, trying desperately to tear it away from himself. “N-no! I-I” His eyes flew to Thomas and back to his chest. “I-I have to go!”

He popped out of existence in the manner Virgil and Deceit did, not risking the time it would have taken to sink out, ignoring frantic twin calls of his name from Patton and Thomas. He reappeared in his theatre, center stage under blinding spotlights, the world around him a haze of yellow light and the blurred shapes of the darkened auditorium.

He looked down at his chest and his thought were overrun by panic.

‘No, not again!’

Inky blackness, living darkness.

‘I threw you out! Not again!’

Rising from his breast, from his heart.

‘I can’t!’

It arches around him, living, breathing,

‘I banished you!’

It slid over his skin, caressing him, surrounding him, he tore at it, felt it choking him.

Y-you can’t have me, not again!’

Like the greeting of a lover,

‘D-don't! Stop!’

It covered him, suffocated him, he couldn’t claw it off,

‘Leave me alone!’

It seeped into his skin, slid down his throat, choking him, poisoning him as it filled his being.

‘I don’t want this, not again!’

It swirled around him in a vortex of darkness, sinking into him and changing him, warping him into something else. When all stood still, silence reigned.

‘Well hello there~.’

Where Roman had stood was a slightly taller man, dressed in black robes not unlike those the creative side normally wore, intricate golden buttons and cords decorating the fabric, and a crimson cape draped around his shoulders in place of the scarlet sash the prince was known for, falling to brush the heels of polished black boots trimmed with delicate golden chains. The spotlights fell on him, their light striking perfect skin and sharper features, pale pink lips curled in a sharp smile. He stood tall, chin held high, power radiating from his posture. A crown of silver and black rested on his head, impossibly deep, blood-red jewels set around its circumference, sucking in all the light that hit them.

“Roman. Roman!”

The figure cocked his head to the side jerkily. He hadn’t been able to hear the calls during his transformation, but now that he looked, he could see the others and their host standing on the side of the stage, watching him in varying degrees of shock, curiosity and horror. His moves were lithe and graceful as he turned dark flame-red eyes on them.

“Well, well, what have we here?” He purred in a voice deep and soft like velvet, it felt like ice sliding down Virgil’s spine, clawed poison stealing his breath away while it snapped his spine. The man grinned as he stepped toward them, swaying with easy poise, presence filling the room in a manner that the great actors could only dream of achieving, and he purred, “Come to watch the show~?”

He stepped closer to them but did not leave the circle of light radiating from the spotlights, still standing center stage. His red gaze fell on Deceit and he sneered, voice cold and arrogant. “I suppose I ought to thank you for releasing me,” he sniffed turning his head away dismissively, “but I don’t make a habit of showing such kindnesses to lowly creatures such as you.”

Deceit, hiding behind Thomas, shrank back with a whimper, stumbling into the curtain as his body shook violently. Virgil’s protective instincts kicked in, overruling the dire need to run as far away from this thing as he could, and he stepped in front of the other, arms raised protectively as he stared wide-eyed at what had been Roman, panic racing in his veins. They both remembered quite well what this creature had considered ‘kindness’ to ‘lesser’ creatures, and the memories paralyzed them.

Thomas’s eyes flicked back to them in concern but wisely focused back on center stage. Perhaps not as wisely, he stepped forward and cleared his throat before meeting the stranger’s eyes. “What is going on?”

The figure smiled brightly, “Oh just a show, that’s all!” He said it almost jovially as he turned toward the front of the stage, half facing them, flicking a hand dismissively. “Any great actor must master the art of transformation, as you’ve just witnessed. Sadly,” he sighed forlornly, but the smirk on his face was smug “few ever manage it~.”

Thomas frowned and went to speak but a second whimper cut him off, louder and more pitiful than terrified as Deceit’s had been. It emanated from a distraught Patton who was being held back once again by Logan’s outstretched arm. “Roman? Kiddo?”

The figure sneered disdainfully, and Virgil spoke up, the words he’d been trying to form finally spilling from his lips, squeezing their way through a panic choked throat. “Th-that’s not Roman Patt, tha-that’s-” he choked off, breathes coming too quick and short to speak as flaring red eyes gazed coldly into his own. Deceit’s shaky voice sounded from behind him, filled with more terror than either logic or morality had ever thought possible, a whisper, a whimper, and a scream crushed together in his vocal cords to create this single syllable. “Pride.”

With all eyes back on him in varying degrees of concern, alarm, and fear, what once was Roman rolled his eyes. “Well!” He huffed “That introduction was just dismal!” He smiled wide and turned back to face Thomas, grace and arrogance dripping from his every pore as he raised a hand in a graceful arc so like the prince’s normal gestures but so much more sinister. “But indeed, I am ~Pride~.” He finished with a flare, and one might think he would have bowed dramatically with a sweeping gesture, but this man did not bow to anyone, not even his host.

Thomas glanced at the sides behind him, worry for their safety overtaking his penchant for resolving things with humor. He took a deep breath to steady himself and forced his eyes to meet those of Pride. “Roman? What is going on?”

The figure sneered. “‘Roman’?” He scoffed and waved a hand as if batting the offending name from the air. “What a pathetic name.” He drawled, “No, I am Romulus.” He finished dramatically, holding himself up like a king over his subjects.

Logan stood in preemptive protection before Patton, hummed as he often did before providing information. “‘Romulus’. Founder and first king of Rome. Considered in Roman myth to be among the most powerful and impressive men to ever live. Blessed by the divine and raised by wolves. Stronger and more accomplished than any general who followed after him. Killer of his own brother and descendant of the Roman gods and both Latin and Greek nobility.” Romulus smirked, but Logan continued, voice sharp. “Also one of the most highly conceited and foolish men to ever exist, if indeed he ever did.” The dark man sneered and looked as if he might leave his precious circle of light, if only long enough to strike Logan.

Thomas side-stepped ever so slightly and placed himself in front of the others as if to block them from Pride’s gaze. He pressed his lips together unhappily, keeping his tone even. “Where is Roman?”

A scoff preceded his answer. “I am Roman. Or rather, he is me, I came first after all.”

“Then why are you…. this version of you…here now?

The other hummed, tilting his head and swaying side to side as if bored with the whole conversation. “I simply saw no reason to continue as I was. Denying myself was quite…detrimental…” he frowned at speaking negatively of himself. “to my success. Honestly, why I ever bothered subduing myself so others would feel less inferior,” He broke off with a scoff and a shake of his head, burning red eyes glaring at Virgil and Deceit. “I’ll never know.” He waved a hand dismissively as he turned away, moving as if half remembering a dance. “But no need to worry Thomas! The work you share with the world will be beyond adequate, rather, it will be quite spectacular now that I no longer see a need to play nice.”

Thomas frowned but attempted the gentler approach he normally took when one of his traits was acting out. “Wha- hey now, no need for that. I’m sure we can all get along just fine without anyone feeling inferior.”

Pride rolled his eyes while Virgil grit his teeth, forcing out words past his chocking panic. “Thomas.” Brown eyes focused on the anxious trait curiously, and worriedly at the strangled sound. “He…he won’t listen… he’s Pride!” He said the name almost frantically, as if trying to convey the sheer depths of his terror through that one word alone. “He thrives off feeling superior…I…. we…” his voice broke and he stopped to take a breath. “Pride doesn’t play well with others Thomas, he can’t, not knowing he can never be good at their roles.” He had intended to say more but a vicious snarl cut him off and he flinched back violently, lowering into a crouch and pressing back against Deceit, who clung to him from behind, eyes flying to where Pride stood, fist curled at his side, looking for all the world like he might just cross the stage and attack Virgil.

“I thought I taught you manners brat.” He spat the cruel nickname, “or do you need to be taught again? You and your” he adopted a high, squeaky, mocking voice, as he tilted his head condescendingly, “precious little snake~?”

“Now that is enough!” Pride’s eyes tracked to Patton, the fatherly figure having stepped out from behind Logan just a bit, fists balled at his sides and anger in his eyes as his whole body trembled from the force of it. “You have no right to come here and threaten our family. Even Roman wouldn’t cross that line!”

Pride smiled, mocking and sickeningly sweet, bouncing once on the balls of his feet and clapping three times in mock excitement - a mockery of Patton’s usual gestures. “Oh Morality, so you finally grew a spine, hmm? Shame it doesn’t make an appearance when your lungs are being crushed by depression, eh?” His smile grew wider, sharper, as Patton flinched back. “How dismal a job you do Morality, too bloody broken and malfunctioning under your own emotions to even work properly.” His eyes and voice took on a hard glint. “If you can’t stand up straight and do your job, maybe we should remove that spine of yours and let someone else do it, hmm?”

Patton shrunk back with a whimper and Logan stepped in front of him with a frown. “Surely your functions do not require harming the other facets of Thomas’s personality? What purpose could this possibly serve?”

Pride paused, tilting his head to the side in contemplation, a neutral expression sliding over his face. “Logic. Perhaps the only one I have no issue with. You work well, and you take great pleasure in your work, carrying it out efficiently and with dignity. Tsk.” He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing as he shook his head in disappointment. “But you can’t even make yourself heard without someone else to silence the drivel. Shame really, that you conflict with my goals. You’ll learn to be silent, even if I have to remove your vocal cords.” He smiled sweetly, saying it like a child who just told their mom they just saw the most amazing thing. Thomas’s back straightened and he lifted his chin, fear-driven defiance taking root, but he was stopped before he could speak as Pride let out a series of high, childlike laughs.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself, Thomas!” He shot a look at Virgil and smiled sickeningly sweet and cruel, making the other cower. “There won’t be any reason to soon enough~.” He laughed then pouted playfully. “It really is all for the best, you just don’t take any real Pride in your function or your work.” He smiled, wide and sharp and deadly, playfulness gone and replaced with cold cruelty, voice falling to a deep and melodic tenor, hypnotizing. “We’ll fix that.”

He took a step forward, towards the group.

‘NO!’

He stumbled as the shout both sounded through his mind and echoed through the theater, resonating through every cell of his being.

‘No! You can’t!’

His form began to blur and he clutched at his own chest. “What the hell?!”

‘I won’t let you’

As the others watched, the dark kingly form began to pull away, separating from the prince beneath like a specter.

‘You do enough damage in me! You don’t get to come out and do more!’

A violent gust of wind nearly blew them back, forcing them to close their eyes as dust flew up from the stage. When they looked again four gasps and a fifth grunt of surprise sounded, echoing through the empty room.

Roman was kneeling center stage, slumped over and panting, face turned up to stare brokenly at the dark form of pride, hovering in the air above him like smoke, form flickering and almost transparent. Only his top half was manifested, while what should have been his bottom half turned into inky darkness at his waist, curling elegantly down like smoke and toward the other, connecting him to Roman in slimy tendrils that stabbed their way through his black shirt, into his chest.

It appeared very much like a broken man facing a spirit that had been possessing him, now forced partially from his body. Distantly Virgil’s snark informed him that Hamlet would be proud.

Pride scowled down at Roman, seemingly more annoyed than bothered. Roman panted and grit his teeth, voice a whisper, rough as sandpaper. “No.”

Pride scoffed, his voice sounding musical even in that harsh sound, while Roman sounded as if he had been screaming a thousand years without reprieve. “‘No’? Whatever do you mean by that~? Not ready for the performance to end?” He smirked, voice turning sickly sweet and cruel. “Don’t worry~…. There’ll be plenty more~”

Roman’s eyes flashed, the golden orange of a sunrise instead of bloody red. “No!” He clutched his side and coughed, red speckling the ground before him. He paid it no mind as he glared up at Pride, snarling. “You do enough damage without a physical form! You’ll not take one and harm them!”

Pride snarled, leaning down inches from Roman’s face. “You can’t even move, and you think you have any say in this?” He hissed furiously, then straightened back up, pouting like a disappointed teacher. “Tsk. How unsightly, arguing with yourself!”

Roman flinched but continued to glare, unfalteringly, up at the other, coughing up more red. “We are not the same.” The specks of red began to pool into small drops on the floor.

His counterpart laughed, a magical sound like a hundred musical bells in a summer breeze. “Oh Roman, Roman, Roman!” He leaned down, grasping the prince’s chin harshly, tilting his head back painfully, and looking him in the eye. “I. Am. You.” He tilted his head to the side, smiling in a manner that might have been kind, as one might smile at a child they found endearing, but its sharp edges spoke of nothing but malice. “Good thing too~ lucky little prince you are.” He released Roman’s chin with a snap of his wrist, nearly giving the man whiplash, standing back up with a click of his tongue. “Could you imagine any of them being a king?” He scoffed “No. They are far too flawed to hold such an honor.”

Roman stared down at the floor with a broken expression on his face, small trails of blood dripping from his lips. “You couldn’t handle being imperfect, could you?” He whispered. Pride just hummed and turned away from him as far as he could while they were connected, flipping a hand dismissively. “Why should I? There is not an imperfect thing about me. Something you should be grateful for, seeing as I am quite literally, you. I don’t know why you bother to hide it. You’re a subpar actor Roman, hardly a creator at all, simply stunted while you deny your nature.” He hummed as if in thought. Logan wondered if this is what it was like to stare up at a madman before they dissected you. “We’ll have to fix that as well.”

Roman looked up at him, gazing past him with hazy vision to see his family cowering. Logan holding onto a crying Patton, Virgil crouched protectively in front of a terrified Deceit, the both of them shaking in fear, all of them cowering behind Thomas…Thomas…his host was staring at him, not at Pride, but at him. He stood straight, almost relaxed, staring and somber. Roman couldn’t read his expression, and that alone stabbed pain into his gut. He looked back at Pride, expression withdrawn and resigned. “A King?” He whispered, a small sound, so much like an unsure child.

Pride smirked, not turning back to him. “Yes. The little prince could be a king again, perfect and powerful.” he said in a sing-song manner before his voice started dripping honey “Wouldn’t you like that Roman?”

Roman raised a shaky hand, grasping the crown on his head and bringing it down to chest level. He held it there between shaking palms as he stared at it. Perhaps it was his imagination, too many hours spent in the theatre, but the weight of his family and host’s stares seemed so heavy they might crush his lungs, their fear so thick in the air it was stifling. He gripped the crown tightly and twisted, muscles straining and protesting, ignoring the blood that spilled as his fingers slid over the sharpened edges of the steel spires. The metal creaked and Roman strained. The crown snapped in half, the metallic ‘schlink’ echoing through the auditorium, seemingly endless. He gripped the halves in shaking hands as Pride spun around to face him, surprise etched on his face. He let them fall, the two halves falling with his blood, the hollow ‘thunk’ as it hit the wood of the stage marking the moment he met Pride’s eyes. “Some princes don’t become kings.” He meant to spit it vehemently, but it came out surreally calm and hoarse.

Pride stared, then he laughed. “You think breaking your crown makes you any less a king?!” He laughed again “You were never a prince, Roman! You only pretended to be, dressed in white, no crown on your head. Another part executed nearly perfectly.” He leaned over and picked up the edge of roman’s cloak, holding it up. “But your true colors shine through, don’t they, majesty?” The last word was taunting as he stood again, letting the edge of the cape fall, lazily through the air, settling over Roman’s bloodied hands.

Roman stared at it, watching his blood seep into the fabric, barely darkening the crimson cloak. His eyes fell to his own chest, to the black fabric there, taunting him with its symbolism. His hands lifted of their own accord, before the thought was finished, and fisted in the fabric. He pulled, the cloth tearing under the force, and he tossed it away, shirt and cloak landing a few feet away. He sat there, bare-chested, and met pride’s eyes again, expecting anger, but the other merely clicked his tongue and shook his head, seemingly amused with this all.

“Such a petulant child! Clothes don’t make the king, Roman. They aren’t part of you, they simply hide you from prying eyes, an indication of status.” He chuckled, light and airy as it was dark and terrifying. “Honestly, if perfection was always on display, lesser creatures would never get anything done!” He scoffed then, staring down his nose at Roman with disdain. “Stop being such a child.”

Roman dropped his hand to his knee, palm up and open, summing an ornate dagger to his hand. A gleaming silver blade the length of his hand melted into a golden handle, carved in intricate designs and inlaid with shining jewels. He held it up at chest level, slowly twirling it around in his hand, examining it without expression. Inwardly he snorted, ‘So dramatic. Even now.’

Pride raised a brow at him, sneering at him from where he hovered, hands folded behind his back in an almost military style. “And what are you going to do with that? Stab me? You’ll just harm yourself you fool.”

Roman pulled his lips back in a snarl, the first expression he’d shown since his outburst. “No.” He raised the blade to the side of his face, laying its side against his temple. He held the other’s gaze, tone mocking. “But then, you can’t stand imperfection, can you?” He brought the blade down swiftly, cutting a gash that ran from his forehead to his chin, cutting over the corner of his eye but barely missing the eye itself. He cried out and dropped the blade, pressing his hands to his face and curling into himself in pain as blood flowed from the wound.

Pride screeched in rage, all pretenses of grace or elegance cast aside, lunging forward with hands reaching out toward Roman in claws. “Damn you!” He broke apart as he fell, fracturing into smoke that settled over Roman’s back, seeping into him and settling under his skin.

Roman sat where he was, curled tightly into himself, shoulders shaking in quiet sobs.

It took a moment for the others to react, for them to comprehend what they had just witnessed and for them to process it. Deceit slowly uncurled himself, clutching to the back of Virgil’s hoodie as he whispered, “Is he not gone?” Virgil nodded softly, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat, “Yeah, I think he is.” The two slowly uncurled themselves from their defensive positions, adrenaline still coursing through their veins in anticipation.

Patton unlatched himself from Logan’s side and tried to run forward, but he stumbled for the tears in his eyes. Logan caught him round the waist and the moral trait held onto him, eyes not leaving Roman’s figure as he cried. “Is he alright?!”

“I believe he will be Patton, but I cannot know that without examining him.”

Patton made to move again but fear held him back and he froze with a whimper, “Is…is Pride…?”

Logan nodded curtly. “I don’t believe he will return any time soon, but I cannot be sure.”

Thomas remained silent in all of this, though it was only a mere few seconds, watching everything happen. He released the breath he was holding quietly and walked forward when the others could not on their own, luckily, he wasn’t any of them, he was all of them. He sank to his knees next to Roman softly, not wishing to startle the distraught side, and gently laid a hand on the other’s back. “Roman?”

The side in question flinched at the touch, whimpering pitifully and curling into himself more tightly.

“Roman, it’s ok.” He rubbed his thumb over Roman’s shoulder comfortingly. “Whatever just happened, we’ll figure it out, ok? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all of that wasn’t in your control. It’s gonna be alright.”

A whimper and a choked sob were his answer. He sighed, not wanting to push the issue, but he could see crimson blood slowly spreading over the floor and he knew he couldn’t leave this until Roman was ready, the wound couldn’t wait that long. He gently grasped Roman’s chin and lifted his face, meeting his utterly destroyed expression with one of near serenity and concern. “Roman. You have to look at me. We have to take care of that cut.”

Roman’s eyes met his briefly, but the creative side flinched, and they jerked away to land, unseeingly out at the rows of seats. Thomas didn’t sigh, he didn’t reprimand him, he didn’t react in any negative way, merely tilted his head a bit to the side, kept his eyes on Roman’s looking away from him, and spoke softly, more breathing the word than speaking it. “Ro.”

Roman whimpered quietly, eyes falling shut as he twitched, body seeming to want to fold in on itself but frozen in place under his host’s gaze. The nickname had broken something in him though, the need to hide overcome by a wish to do what was asked of him. He opened his mouth but only a choked sound came from his throat, prompting new tears. He squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop them from falling and gritted his teeth, nodding once tersely.

Thomas sighed lightly through his nose and sat back a bit, turning his gaze to the others, taking note of each of them in turn as he curled his hand over the back of Roman’s neck, comforting and firm, grounding.

Logan’s eyes were cold as he stood at near military attention, but not emotionless. Thomas knew this was Logan’s care for the others manifesting in a protective need to understand everything, so he could defend them from harm, logic cold and unbending as steel. But where there was wariness, there was no anger.

Behind him was Patton, hunched in on himself and pressed to Logan’s shoulder, hands fisted in the polo always pristine, now rumpled under the fatherly trait’s hands. Logan’s arm was still outstretched protectively, to keep Patton back and to place himself as a barrier between the other and any potential harm, it wasn’t straight through, it was curled backward, nearly wrapped around Patton. Morality’s eyes gazed out from behind thick glasses, worry and sorrowful pain mixed with a bit of hurt shone through unshed tears, as his teeth worried his lower lip. Thomas’s gaze moved on.

Deceit’s mismatched eyes laid on Roman, clear fear overpowering everything else, though concern peaked through at the edges. While Patton was barely hidden behind Logan, Deceit was barely visible from where he hid himself at Virgil’s back, hands fisted in the other’s jacket just under his shoulder blades, his nose tucked behind Virgil’s shoulder to reveal only the top of his head and those piercing eyes. He was scared, but Thomas could see he didn’t want to abandon the others, or, he suspected, Roman. Lastly, his gaze shifted to Virgil and he almost wanted to chuckle at the dual nature of everything about the side. He stood nearly as tense as Logan, arms at his sides and hands fisted, lips pulling back ever so slightly at the corners as if he wanted to snarl, his fight reflexes more than ready to tear any threat apart. Yet he pressed back against Deceit, as if he wanted to both shield the other and curl back into his chest, his shoulders were hunched ever so slightly inward with his chin tucking towards his chest, his legs too were tense, but they were angled as if to run away, so his flight reflexes too were overwhelmed. His eyes though were the oddest bit. Fear lit their edges, but the centers focused on Roman with such intensity that, if not for Thomas’s understanding of the anxious side’s nature, he wouldn’t have known if that gaze wanted to tear roman apart or mend him.

Thomas himself was more somber than normal, a rare jaded maturity replacing his playfulness. He wasn’t angry, in fact at the moment he wasn’t even upset, rather, it was as if an unearthly calm had settled over him. A need to protect those that felt more like family than mere aspects of his personality clashing with a need to mend and heal that one that was injured, spinning round and round until they merged. He released a second deep breath and turned his gaze back to Roman for a moment.

Roman was…scared. No…he was terrified and in pain, every line of his figure screamed it. Thomas shook his head minutely and let his eyes slip shut, centering himself silently he exercised a power he knew he had but didn’t fully understand. The world seemed to tilt slowly on its axis before righting itself upside down. When he opened his eyes again they were back in his living room. The others were all standing by the stairs while he and Roman found themselves kneeling in the center of the living room.

He breathed deeply, quietly, and centered himself. Gently he grasped Roman’s shoulders and made to lift him just a bit. “Roman.” He kept his voice soft, but the other flinched all the same “Roman, Let’s get you on the couch, ok?”

Roman didn’t answer, but he did get his feet under himself and try to stand. His legs were weak, and he stumbled immediately. Thomas had anticipated this and practically picked the other up, using the prince’s momentum to set him on the couch. Roman hunched into himself once again as soon as he was seated, legs curling close to his chest and shoulders hunching as his eyes pressed shut. Thomas knelt on the floor beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and paused a moment to send a searching glance over the others. From the corner of his eye he could see Logan standing close to his normal spot, merely further forward and closer to Virgil’s, turning himself ever so slightly to let Patton lean against the wall and still remain curled into the logical man’s side. Virgil was in his normal space, and he had herded Deceit to sit on one of the steps, the lying trait having done so but remained pressed forward, every line of his body making it clear he wanted to press himself into Virgil’s side and stay there. Virgil likely would have let him, but his protective instincts and fight or flight reflexes had him half knelt half crouched in front of the stairs, easily ready to spring up and run or come up swinging if needed, so he settled with reaching back to place a hand on Deceit’s arm in comfort. One of Deceit’s hands was nearly crushing Virgil’s. Both kept their eyes on Roman and Thomas, one fearful the other tense.

Thomas looked away from them all and closed his eyes again, breathing steadily, pushing down the sudden swell of sadness in his chest. The sides were something between imagination and reality, everything about them one step from nothingness and an equal step from solid form, Thomas knew this. He understood it on a base level and knew that it was the reason he could interact with them as he did. He also understood that the games the sides played, making sweaters and sheet music and rubiks cubes appear out of thin air was a similar concept. It didn’t come as easily to him as it did to them, but he could use that ability. After a few moments, he felt a weight settled in his empty hand resting against his leg and opened his eyes to find a first aid kit in his grasp. He didn’t question it, understanding that focusing too hard on the fact that this thing was only half real would make it fade. Instead, he turned his gaze and attention back to the creative trait.

“Roman.” He sounded as if he were talking to a frightened animal, intentionally gentle and conveying steady strength, but sure enough Roman flinched inward regardless. “I need to treat that cut. I need you to move your hand and let me clean it.”

Roman’s whimper was the quietest in existence, Thomas was sure. But he remained calm, no frustration in his tone, or even his mood. “Roman, you need to move your hand.” He let his hand trail slowly down Roman’s arm from his shoulder, then up to his wrist. There he gently curled his fingers around the other’s hand and applied a gentle yet firm pressure to pull the limb away. Roman was tense, but he didn’t fight him as Thomas pressed the hand against Roman’s leg, silently nudging the other to drop his legs as well.

Thomas scanned the wound with his eyes and frowned. Starting at the inside of Roman’s temple it dangerously skirted over the outer corner of his eye, bowed outward slightly on his cheek, and fell in a sharp line down past his chin. He was lucky the momentum hadn’t made the blade hit his throat. It wasn’t deep enough to be deadly, barely going beneath the layers of skin to the muscle beneath, but it was deep enough to worry the man, and certainly deep enough to scar. Gently squeezing Roman’s hand on the prince’s lap, both for reassurance and to make sure he kept it there, he opened the medical kit and retrieved the disinfectant and a few cloths.

Gently grasping the other’s chin, he tilted his head to give himself more room to work. He kept his hand there afterward to ensure Roman wouldn’t move. Silently he started at Roman’s temple and began cleaning the cut, taking great care around his eye. For a time, they sat in silence, the others slowly relaxing the tiniest amount, but not fully, where Thomas kept an eye on them in his peripheral vision. Roman sat still and tense, silent tears slipping from his closed eyes, his lower lip no longer trembling but nearly white from the pressure where it was trapped between his teeth. Thomas worked silently and carefully. For a time, the silence reigned, but once Thomas had reached Roman’s cheek he broke it, tone even and calm.

“So that was Pride. I know who, what he is…in theory…but who is he to you, Roman?”

Roman’s eyes flew open as he flinched and tried to look away, his whole body trying to recoil but he didn’t move far before Thomas’s grip stilled him. “He…I….” He closed his eyes again, voice choking with tears. “I was him… to start with…when you were younger, still a child.”

Thomas frowned as he continued to clean the cut, wincing as Roman flinched in pain. “Then why are there two of you? You’re my creativity, aren’t you? How can you be both?”

Roman’s eyes opened halfway, focusing on the floor before him without truly seeing it. The prince smiled, but there was no humor in it, just tired weariness. “None of us have only one function. I was…him…when you were a child, before your imagination grew, back when your fantasies and dreams were fueled by the creativity of your parents. Eventually, as all children do, you began to imagine on your own, without their stories….and you were so…proud” his voice hitched in pain, “of what you created, that eventually, I became creativity too.”

The host furrowed his brows as he began closing the wound and securing it with steri-strips. “Then why are you separate now?”

A small sound of sorrow and pain broke out of roman’s throat, tears brimming at his eyes that he held back. “I am your ego, Thomas, that hasn’t changed…. but as time went by things…changed. You…you began to love Disney, and it fueled the majority of your imagination, of my new role… you loved the princes and, as a child, loathed the villains…..” His quieted with sadness. “even as I was then, it did not take long to realize that I was the opposite of what you wished to be, despite now embodying your hopes and dreams, that I was, in fact, what you despised…. I did not wish to be that way. I…. I locked it away, that part of me, buried it beneath everything you ever wished to be, the traits of every prince you admired…”

He sighed and stopped talking as Thomas started bandaging his jaw. Perhaps sensing that Roman wasn’t finished, Thomas didn’t ask anything else yet. When he was finished he sat back and waited. Roman didn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor and fidget, drawing his legs back up to his chest and hugging them tightly.

“I buried him so far that it ceased to be an act, that we truly became two halves of one being…. I…I despised him. I despised how he made me think and feel, how he pushed me to act…so I pushed him as far away as I could. It was never enough though, and you’ve seen him affect me, the days when ego and harshness overcome the rest of my being…” he sighed and tightened the death grip on his legs, hugging himself. “I don’t understand it completely myself, Thomas, hell, the day I appeared in the ‘light side’ of your mind was a shock. Somehow, through mutual loathing, we became separate enough that I was no longer Pride, but merely Creativity, that he was a separate entity that only affected you subconsciously…. not entirely separate though, as you did correctly deem me to also be your ego.”

Thomas stayed silent for a moment, gaze falling to the black mark over Roman’s heart. He frowned and pulled roman’s leg down, so he could run his fingers over it. Roman flinched and chuckled dryly, without humor. “We all have our dark marks…that…he, is mine.”

Thomas lifted his gaze to Roman’s, gaze narrowed in wariness and curiosity, but not hostility. “Why is it there?” Roman barked a humorless laugh. “Over my heart you mean?” Thomas’s silence was answer enough. Roman sighed and let his eyes fall shut again, pinching the bridge of his nose as his head hung forward. His voice the clearest it had been since this began, but quiet with weariness.

“You call Patton your heart, and you are not entirely wrong. Morality and ethos are matters that deal with the soul and empathy of a person, and the heart is indeed the metaphorical seat of both soul and emotion.” He let his hand fall without care and let his gaze rest on Patton where he stood tucked into Logan’s side, for the moment the prince was nearly emotionless save for sorrow and pain. “but he is not all of your heart, that is merely where he ‘lives’, if you will.” His eyes slipped shut as he sighed heavily. “Pride is against morality, it must be.”

His gaze dropped, and he looked toward Thomas but did not yet meet his gaze, instead staring just past his shoulder. “Pride earned is one thing, but arrogance is quite another. It poisons logic into believing you can do anything you damn well please and that you can rationalize anything. It silences caution and abuses deceit, turning you against yourself until you think you are invincible.” He winced minutely but ignored the twin flinches that came from Virgil and Deceit at the rather literal explanation of what Pride had done to them. His gaze fell back on Patton, voice bitter and sad. “And once it’s done that, it destroys your morality.” Patton shuddered and shrunk back. “You think you are invincible. You lie to yourself without knowing it. You believe you can rationalize anything into being right. You believe you are right, that you know best and that only you know best. You believe that anything you do is perfect and any criticism is beneath you.” He paused and sighed deeply. “And then…then you don’t care anymore.” His gaze slid down to the floor, blurring as his voice became thick with tears again. “You don’t care about the emotions of others, nor their well-being. Your ethics disintegrate, your empathy evaporates, and your morality is gone, replaced with something…something exactly its opposite.”

Roman’s voice had already been sorrowful and oddly resigned, but it took on a bitter tone that made Thomas realize the prince wasn’t just describing what pride could do to him, the host. But what it had been doing to Roman, even from the shadows. He set his gaze back on the mark above Roman’s heart, not liking the dark blood smeared around it. Silently, he set to cleaning it off the unmarked skin. “It only covers half your heart…” Roman hummed but it sounded choked. “Yeah, well, it covers enough of it.”

Thomas looked up at him, a brief glance before returning to his task. “He never stopped affecting you, did he?” He asked it lightly, but Roman still flinched. “N..no…. he didn’t…” Roman sighed. “Is that why you acted the way you did, before…?” Roman winced and hunched forward as far as he could while Thomas was cleaning the blood from his chest, head hung low. “Yes….” He sighed and opened his eyes to set his weary gaze on the floor, the patterning of the carpet swirling hazily in his vision.

“Morality…he could tolerate…begrudgingly…didn’t find much need to worry about him” Roman snorted softly. “Too arrogant to acknowledge how bloody scary Patton can be…Logic…he could live with, not concern himself with...” He pressed his eyes shut tight, voice catching. “but Anxiety and Deceit-“ his voice choked off and pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sob. It passed and he rubbed at his eyes. “he could not tolerate them. Their presence, their jobs, their very existence…. they were the two most dangerous to him…to his plans…..” A shudder wracked through Roman but he kept the sob back, voice going tight. “He couldn’t kill them either…. not for lack of trying…” at that a single sob did break free, but he immediately cut it off and took in a strangled breath, then cleared his throat.

He dropped his hand and once again stared blankly at the ground. “After we separated, well, as separated as we could be, he was content enough to be silent…even if he did do his best to put me intentionally at odds with Patton and Logan. But when Virgil –“ his voice broke. “when Virgil showed up…I couldn’t stop his influence anymore…I barely kept him from becoming dominant between us again.” His voice had trailed off into a broken whimper, so he stopped to steady himself. Thomas and the others let him.

Roman raised his head and looked toward Thomas, but did not let his gaze go past the man’s neck to his face, much less his eyes. “It took more strength than I possess, and more help than I would have liked, to treat Virgil even amicably. To my shame, I could do no more, but when Deceit…” he took a deep breath, eyes staring upward, ignoring the clear tears that flowed over their edges. “when Deceit came, I couldn’t…there was nothing I could do to keep him at bay anymore…my own anger at Deceit for his tricks did not help matters…so I hid. I avoided him…” he smiled wryly, a sick twist of his lips as his gaze fell again. “But anger left unfaced festers, and when I did finally see Deceit face to face again, my anger was enough that I wasn’t even conscious of how much P-pride was affecting me.” His gaze dropped in shame to the ground. “Deceit’s charge broke what little control I had left over him….” Roman swallowed thickly and looked away, staring unseeingly at the wall, away from everyone else. “it…it wasn’t their fault…they ne-never did anything… but they were the c-catalyst that let him out…and I couldn’t stop- couldn’t stop it…” the prince’s voice broke, fully this time, and he just barely held back sobs with a hand over his own mouth.

Thomas said nothing, nor did the others, though while they were in various stages of shock, Thomas was turning everything over in his head, considering and calculating everything. Absentmindedly he stroked his thumb over the inside of Roman’s wrist where his hand still rested around the other’s arm. His brows furrowed after a minute had passed.

“Roman, you separated from him, for lack of a better term, you locked him away. Why didn’t you separate completely?” Though there was no malice in the words, the oddly cool and neutral tone made Roman shudder. He shook his head minutely. “I do not even know if we could have, completely. We started as one being…I do not know how separate we are even now. But it was not for lack of trying.” He took a shaky breath, eyes fixed on his lap now. “It was not for lack of trying that we are still connected…. Years I spent trying to tear the anchor of him out of me…but I cannot… pain notwithstanding, I am not strong enough. Regardless, I eventually came to the conclusion how…foolish it would have been if I ever succeeded.”

Thomas’s eyebrow rose, the only change in expression, indeed in demeanor at all. “How’s that?”

Roman laughed, head tilted back, twisted lips pulled back over fractured teeth. It was a broken sound filled with shattered glass that made Patton wince and caused Virgil to shrink back ever so slightly into Deceit. Roman was broken. And as they watched where they stood, though they said nothing, each and every one of the four sides hanging back in caution, came to the same conclusion: they might not be able to fix him.

For the first time Roman’s gaze strayed closer to Thomas’s, but still could not quite meet it. “You’ve seen how much damage he did to me, Thomas, what he’s done as a whisper in your subconscious.” The second laugh sounded more like that of a mad man. “What the hell do you think he’d have done on his own?!” The laughter died and Roman hunched in on himself again, shaking his head as a man resigned to hang at the gallows. “No. Better he stay trapped within me. Better he hurt me, and only me, rather than have a manifested form of his own to hurt you.”

Roman was hunched in on himself, the hand not caught in Thomas’s grip rubbing absently at his ribs, a haunted and faraway look in his eyes. As Virgil watched from the sidelines pieces started to fall into place like a long-forgotten jigsaw puzzle scattered throughout the dusty corners of an attic. He stiffened, eyes going wide, and as Deceit gasped quietly behind him, he knew his old friend had followed the same train of thought to the same conclusion. Logan looked back at them curiously, having missed the signs he wouldn’t know to look for. Virgil swallowed thickly, voice trembling but strong as he called out to his longtime nemesis. “We’re not the only ones he hurt, are we Roman?”

Roman’s flinch and quick movement to curl himself into a tight ball, arms grasping his own chest as if in protection - even at the cost of ripping his hand out of Thomas’s, to the other’s great surprise - were the only answer the anxious trait needed. Deceit whimpered and it trailed off into a hiss of unhappiness and anger. Virgil was inclined to agree with that sentiment, but his normal reactions of growling or hissing wouldn’t achieve anything right now. Eyes even wider than they were before, he swallowed past the sudden feeling of crushed glass in his throat and asked a rather insensitive question in his shock. “H-how?! He…you…you share a body. How…?”

Roman shook almost violently but barked another laugh, even more broken than the previous two, this one filled only with pain, a deep and cutting pain that made one think of the wailing of an injured dog when heard. Thomas winced just as Patton did.

“The imagination can be such a wonderful thing… it’s where I go to battle beasts to find inspiration and create ideas…I can create anything there…escape there…hide there…” his voice became strained. “A place where anything can take shape isn’t always so wonderous….”

Logan’s eyes went wide, lips parting silently in an almost gasp. Patton did gasp, but it turned into a wretched sob as the two realized just what it was Virgil and Deceit had picked up on. Those two, for their part, looked at Roman in a new light. Not as the host to their abuser - though he had certainly been that - but as a victim the same as them. Thomas caught up with the four of them pretty quickly, in truth he had already known, but he hadn’t wanted to put the pieces together into such a gruesome picture. For the first time, his expression and tone showed emotion other than neutrality, softening and straining with grief. “So every time you went into the imagination to create things and come up with ideas…?” He trailed off, and Roman nodded brokenly. “N…not every time…. there are certain areas…and I avoid them unless I have to follow a creature there…. but he doesn’t always stay in their bounds…”

He trailed off helplessly and the other five absorbed this information. That meant that every time Roman did his job - every time Thomas daydreamed, every time he created something, every time they needed a new script, every time he dreamed, every time he fantasized – Roman had walked into hell, and more often than not he had met the devil wearing his own face.

Patton clamped a hand over his mouth harshly to quiet the sobs tearing out of his throat, Logan, uncharacteristically, tried to reach back to steady and comfort him, but he barely kept his balance as this information set itself in his brain, as every possible meaning, every possible variable, and every possible outcome to the dataset played itself out for him to see. He swayed dangerously, nausea suddenly threatening to knock him over, it would have if it weren’t for the presence of Patton leaned against his back.

Deceit had pressed himself to Virgil’s side by this point, and the two of them were holding onto to each other with an arm around the other, old memories, living nightmares from the past playing through their minds, merging with the knowledge that Roman had faced the same…possibly worse, and for much longer than they had.

Thomas took all of this in without thinking about it, after all, anything and everything his sides knew or realized, he knew too, should he actually think about it. He bit back the wish to scream, or sob, or cry, or tear apart the thing that had hurt his Roman so badly, knowing it would do no good. Instead, he did the only thing he could think of and lifted himself onto the couch to sit by the creative trait, and wrapped his arms around him, drawing Roman to his chest and holding him close as the prince finally broke and began to sob.

His cries were a broken and pathetic thing, the wretchedness sounding from them cutting them all to the bone in a manner none of them- not even Logan with his literal dictionary of a mind – could describe in words. Through his sobs, they heard occasional words and sentences, broken up as they were gasped out roughly.

‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I tried.’ ‘I didn’t mean to.’ ‘my fault.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘shouldn’t have let him.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ’I’m sorry.’ ‘I’m sorry.’

Virgil and Deceit both jerked forward instinctively, a desperate wish to comfort Roman as they had once comforted each other cutting through them, but they each halted equally as instinctively, for they neither one had any idea what to do. So they held each other, taking what comfort they could from whom they had thought was the only other person in the mindscape who could understand, until now.

Patton tried to move forward as well, a sob finally breaking out of his throat, but the weight of the shock and grief he was under drove him to the ground. Logan’s stunted but still quick reflexes were the only thing that kept the man from falling completely as his friend caught him. All the same, the end result found Patton on his knees, Logan knelt beside him on one knee, arms wrapped around Patton from having caught him. The logical trait was staring, unblinking and wide-eyed at Roman, a sickness choking his throat and cutting off his usually bountiful speech.

Thomas felt all of this, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He felt it hit him like a punch to the chest, and his breath hitched in response, but he ignored it. There would be time for his own sorrow and shock, and theirs, later, for now, he took a deep breath and focused on holding the man in his arms whose whole world, and indeed being, was finally tearing apart for the first time after 29 years of being precariously stitched together.

Roman’s tears, it seemed, had no end to them. Thomas continued to hold him, a silent and steadying presence of strength and comfort. After a time, Roman’s tears did begin to dry up, even if his sorrow and pain did not, but he had exhausted himself too much to move, and so stayed where he was, curled mostly in a ball and burrowed into Thomas’s chest, head resting very nearly over the other’s heart. As the energy to cry faded he allowed the steady thrumming under his ear to lull him into a calmer state. He opened his eyes now, but rather unseeingly as his gaze did not go past Thomas’s chest and upper arm. Thomas, for his part, just kept his arms wrapped securely around the creative trait, one hand lightly running over Roman’s arm and shoulder. As he felt Roman’s breathing even out and his body start to go lax he chanced splitting his attention away from Roman to check on the others.

As he has already been aware, the other four had moved closer but had not interfered. Logan sat on the arm of the couch, his normally smooth expression roughened by furrowed brows and the slightest of frowns fueled by concern as he watched Roman. His posture too was less rigid than normal, as he was hunched forward a bit to reach out one hand to Patton’s shoulder. Patton had also moved close and had taken the open side of the couch. He had curled himself into a ball, pulling his legs up to his chest hugging himself. Though he was pressing back into Logan’s touch, he was leaned forward and edged as close to Roman as he could be without touching him. That being said, it wasn’t lost on Thomas that the fatherly trait’s arms kept twitching as he stopped himself from reaching out and pulling Roman to him. Thomas tried to ignore the twinge of hurt he felt at seeing the sad frown set in Patton’s expression, instead he looked away from them and toward the floor in front of him.

Virgil and Deceit were there. At first, they had stood before the couch awkwardly, not sure where to fit into the picture, wanting to care for Roman, but both still a little afraid and knowing from harsh experience with each other that sometimes you just had to wait for things to pass before you could approach the broken and try to mend them. They had hovered for a moment before understanding that this was not going to be a quick process, and had settled on the floor. Virgil, particularly, had sat on one of his legs, pulling the other up and hugging it to his chest. He wasn’t completely settled though and was pitched forward the same as Patton, a hair-trigger away from propelling himself up and forward to Roman. Deceit kept the same overly attentive and concerned gaze on Roman that Virgil did, and he was only minorly less tense, but he sat completely, legs hugged to his chest, curled into Virgil’s side.

The lot of them sat in silence for a time longer, but once Roman had calmed completely and was resting in a near-sleep state, they could wait no longer. Patton was the one who reached out, a hand pressed gently to Roman’s shoulder, accompanied by a soft call of the other’s name, “Ro?”

The effect was immediate, and unfortunate, as the side in question immediately tensed and his breath hitched. Virgil was up in an instant, kneeling in front of Roman and ducking to get in his field of vision, though the prince didn’t seem to see him at all.

“Princey.” Virgil was conscious not to touch the other and to keep his tone low and even. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” Roman flinched and Virgil frowned, understanding quite immediately. “And so are we, Princey. Just focus on me, ok? On my voice. Ok?” Roman didn’t move, but his breathing was labored once again. “Easy Roman. Focus on your breathing. In 4 seconds, hold 7, out 8. Alright? Again. In 4, hold 7, out 8.” This process repeated for some time, and the others did not protest letting anxiety calm Roman from the beginnings of a panic attack.

When Roman’s breathing was once again steady, though heavy and wet, Virgil risked slowly raising a hand, well within Roman’s vision, and pressing it to his thigh. Roman twitched slightly but did not panic or shy away, but he kept his gaze fixed unseeingly ahead at Thomas’s arm where it curled around him. Deceit, unsure what to do but remembering plenty of times when all he had been able to do was sit close, moved closer and sat down, leaning against the couch. One of his hands instinctively reached out and fisted in Virgil’s jacket, the anxious trait easily reaching out to settle his free hand on Deceit’s knee. Deceit pressed close to Thomas’s legs and laid his head down on the couch, looking up at Roman who met his gaze.

Roman’s face crumpled, and he whimpered tearfully but did not cry as he had no tears left. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke in a dry sob and he closed his eyes, unable to turn his head away. “I’m so fucking sorry…”

Thomas knew this wasn’t the time for all problems to be resolved, indeed it would be sometime before that point came. But he did know that right now they needed to take care of Roman. He tightened his arms around the distraught trait and ran one hand through his hair, an old trick that had calmed him as a child and had the same effect on the creative side now. “Roman.” It was a whisper, soft and strong. “It’s alright.”

Roman shook his head immediately, almost violently, but could do no more as he found himself held closer still. Left with no other choice he stilled and listened to the calm and steady voice above him. “It will be alright Roman.” The hand carded through his hair again. “We will figure this out, and it will be ok.”

He wanted to disagree, he wanted to apologize, but he knew that there was no use arguing. He took a shaky breath and nodded. His eyes though, they left no doubt that he didn’t believe it. Thomas smiled, a sad curl of his lips at the corner into the smallest grin, colored over with grief and love. “It will be aright Roman, and we will fix this, I promise.”

Roman didn’t respond, but he relaxed again. His eyes felt heavy, but he lifted his gaze to find Deceit and Virgil, a desperate need driving the action. When he found no malice or betrayal nor accusation in their eyes, but only concern and care, he finally allowed himself to stop. It wasn’t solved, not by any means, but he was so tired, had been for years, but was beyond exhaustion now. His eyes slipped shut and he allowed the comforting presence of the others around him, the surety of Thomas’s promise, and the steady beating of a heart left unstained beating under his ear lull him into the first restful sleep he’d had since he had become a separate entity. Maybe, maybe he was wrong.

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voidlitmoon · 4 years

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Familiar Faces, Connected Stories

4 months later, @sugarglider9603 I finally finished the second half!! :D Ohmygosh I'm so sorry for the wait, but thank you all for being so patient, alot has happened including the absolutely dreaded writers block. All of your comments, likes/kudos, reblogs (on Tumblr) have been helping me finish this chapter, so I really want to thank you guys for enjoying this💙💙💙💙

Another important note, but there is a reason I'm posting this today. That's because today (April 2nd) is my 16th birthday! I actually finished this on Monday (March 30th) but I decided to wait the few days so it would be a bit more special (also yes I know it's late I'm posting this, imma be busy all day so night posting it is!)

Also dont worry, if your new here (go check out the previous stories in the Master Post link!) do note I'm going to be writing my interpretation of the pokebois evolutions :D that and more short side stories are coming asap

Alright I've held you long enough, do enjoy!

Bonus note: this fic (Runaway Eevees) is what Sugar has said cannonly happened of how Remus and Deceit met the group, so if you wanna read that go ahead (it's a good read) :D

Ao3 link

Ao3 series link

Part 5 (chapter 1) Part 6

Master Post

Words: 2,931

Summery: ' Virgil's eyes widened "you've all met before" he looked at all five Eevee's faces, finding guilt in three and confusion in the other two "when, how? Was it before I met all of you?" He scratched at the ground.

His brother-father figure perked up behind him "you.. never told him?" He questioned the three trained Eevees, who all shuffled their feet. "We didn't want to worry him?" Roman tried, only for his trash brother to growl. '

The group will finally tell their stories, revealing past connections, and making new ones for the journey ahead

Chapter 2

Virgil watched as Thomas set his hands on Roman and Logan's backs, putting a halt on the growling. Well, for now at least.

He inwardly sighed, he knew the others where protective, heck he himself was being protective of his brothers at the moment. But this much hostility to other pokemon he obviously knew? He even saw Patton's tail twitching, as though the father figure wanted to pull Virgil away but was resisting.

He remembered when he first met this group of misfits, that field of flowers where Patton taught him how to make flower crowns. Yes Logan was sitting out, but Roman pounced at any opportunity to play with any wild pokemon, and Patton came right over to join the dark furred Eevee the second he showed himself. Them acting this way around pokemon they never met..

Virgil's eyes widened "you've all met before" he looked at all five Eevee's faces, finding guilt in three and confusion in the other two "when, how? Was it before I met all of you?" He scratched at the ground.

"Well!" Thomas clapped, startling them all "I'm guessing you guys need to talk about something, and since language barriers exist and food still needs to be cooked, I'm going to go burn that. Don't faint each other!" The trainer stood up from his chair making his way to the pile of berries, leaving several Eevees that probably would faint each other before speaking a word.

Virgil huffed, suspicious and annoyed "alright, first things first!" He chirped in a light tone, though it was clear the growl that accompanied it reached all the others ears "would anyone mind telling me how you've all met?"

______________________________

"-and then you woke up with no knowledge of what went down, so we just didn't tell you" Roman finished lamely. All five Eevees had taken their own bits and pieces of the story to tell, mainly because when two started arguing Virgil would hiss them down. Other than that, the dark furred Eevee didn't speak a word and kept his face neutral throughout.

Virgil sighed, flicking his tail "so you never thought once why two random Eevees took me? Logan, I thought you were the smart one. Well" he added and Logan's ears started to lower in shame "you are the smartest one here, just not about this.

"And you two" the youngest turned his head "did it occur to you that you could have just gone up and asked?" He paused, realizing the answer before the marked Eevee spoke.

"Well," he mumbled, "for one we thought they were the ones that took you in the first place. You just disappeared that day" Virgil shuddered, remembering that was true, though the truck story could be told another day "plus they're.. caught pokemon" he finished. "Ya" Virgil continued "just like me."

"But-" the stink covered Eevee tried, but Virgil shook his head.

"Thomas met me several times before I joined the team, in fact from the story Logan and Patton have told me" he flicked his tail to the shiny pair of parents "Thomas wouldn't let himself catch them until both of them made it clear they wanted to join his journey."

Patton nodded "before Thomas saved us, twice if you count the Team Rocket members in the marketplace, we never trusted humans. Most of the time humans tried to steal us for our fur color, Thomas was different" the father figure hesitated, "it.. kind of felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place when we met."

All the Eevees blinked as Thomas hummed in the background. None of the Eevees had ever mentioned to another about a feeling of a puzzle piece, Thomas had once made a comment of it, but the three there to witness that were more focused on Virgil's tail slipping into the bushes. The two unnamed Eevees even remembered when they first met Virgil hidden in the dumpster, they had felt some kind of connection.

"That.. wasn't just me who's been feeling that when we all meet?" Roman voice stumbled, eyes widening even more as the other 5 shook their heads.

"Well, you all seem to be in a better mood" Thomas chuckled, causing them all to jump. "Woah" he calmed, laughing.

"Well, food is all ready and prepared, there's enough for you guys as well" he grinned at the newbies.

The two hesitated at the idea of food, but with a comforting chirp from their brother, they followed.

______________________________

With dinner cleaned away (Thomas somehow managing not to burn anything, Logan praised happily) the group curled before a campfire as the trainer roasted marshmallows (these, he did manage to burn more often than not).

Virgil spent this time explaining to both groups how he knew both sides, of how trash and marked Eevees saved him (he didn't explain what he was escaping from), how he really was taken from them, how he met the group in the field of flowers, and how he finally stayed with Thomas for good. By the end of the story his head was laid on the ground as he cuddled Roman (a late addition during the story time, since when he explained they were boyfriends the trash covered Eevee full on tackled Roman) listening to the fire crackle. Wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky as the night crawling forest pokemon howled and chirped and hooted.

He looked at his family, most of his past was back in his life; but for how long? He shuddered and curled more into Roman's warm fur, hating the realization he might lose them again after looking for so long. They wouldn't want to be with a trainer, especially even if it meant having Virgil being back in their lives.

Virgil. He nearly spat the name at the ground. He wanted one again for so long, from the day he hatched he had one before it and everything was taken away by.. her. He vowed never to take a name again, especially from a human. If he did, would he be betraying his oldest family connection? What would Sleep and Pecha think of his now, their little Star taking a new name, only for this one to probably drive these brothers away.

Virgil lifted his head up, staring at the two nameless pokemon maybe four tail lengths away. Why did they keep searching for him anyways?

He startled as Roman nudged his cheek. "Sorry" the starter apologized "you just dazed off staring at those two, I was wondering if you were ok."

Virgil sighed "I.. I was just wondering, why did they follow me" he mumbled, unable to look at anyone he opted to stare up at the sky. Unfortunately the world decided to push the clouds out of the clearings sky view, only piling on more of his original family's guilt. He never went searching for that farm ever again after his.. escape, and knowing Thomas they wouldn't go 100 feet anywhere near there with Patton, Logan, and Virgil. Sure, Sleep was reckless, but Pecha would be sensible enough to know not to go out into the world, an unknown area only Eevees who were taken by trainers ever saw. Those puzzle pieces were probably lost to time.

But these two.. he looked back down, Star's eyes trailing at all of his family's faces, stopping at the two. They were here, close enough in one bound he could tackle them. Why did they come, why did they care enough to try and steal him back from (what they knew at the time) hostile people and pokemon? Why did they keep looking, why did he keep looking?

Why.. did he keep looking? Virgil stood up, eyes widening. Because they were, they are family. Family he didn't want to lose, he couldn't lose any more of them. With a push from his hind legs and a squeak of surprise from Roman as he momentarily turned into a launch pad, Virgil crashed into his brothers.

"Shit, wha-" one of them cried, getting cut off as Virgil curled close.

"Please don't leave me again" Virgil chirped quietly, to the point only the two he was curled against him could hear. Virgil burrowed closer "please" he whispered "I can't lose anyone again."

The two looked at each other in surprise. They thought, well Virgil wouldn't want them to stick around. From how he told the story they would never (and probably want never) to take the smallest away from this team, and from the looks of it the three Eevees didn't trust them much right now. They didn't, right?

They usually would never hang around a human more than a few moments, never used to having a family bigger than just the three of them. It seemed logically from their past for it to be near impossible for this human and three of his pokemon to ever trust them.

..But

But it was like the light silver shiny had said earlier, they could feel the puzzle pieces there, already connected to Virgil and ready to connect with them all. A human, who was like none other. He had witnessed them take one of his own, but when that one showed he still trusted the two misfits, the trainer opened his arms, gave them food for no other reason than one he trusted showed they trusted the two strangers.

And the three Eevees, Virgil seemed to trust them to the ends of the Earth. Patton had offered them to join their meal right away. Roman had laughed off the trash Eevees tackle and just said Logan's reaction had been similar. Logan, while seeming to be the least likely one to want them here, listened to their half of the story without interrupting unless to give more detail, and was showing trust even now by watching from the fire's other side, not moving an inch. They trusted them in a way.

No, they didn't think of these four as family yet, but for the first time since they met Virgil, since they met each other, there seemed to be a chance to make that come true.

"Ok", the marked Eevee nudged Virgil "we'll think about it overnight."

For some reason, they realized they wouldn't even need that time.

Because the best part of staying was not only they would gain a whole family, one they would perhaps one day learn they could always trust, but they would regain their brother. Their brother they would have searched for eternity to find, and given anything to stay with.

______________________________

Thomas yawned as he sat up, Patton rolling off the trainer's shoulder still fast asleep and swapped to flopping over a passed out Logan, who was moments ago tucked between Thomas's ear and shoulder. The human glanced around, finding Roman (who always moved in his sleep) laying across the sleeping bag where his left ankle was. Last but not least Virgil was curled under a cuddle puddle with the two new Eevees from last night off next to his sleeping bag, the only contact being Virgil's tail brushing Roman's.

The trainer chuckled and slid his foot away from it's prison, quietly hissing as he tested the tingling foot. Of course it was asleep. Well, the best way to wake it up was to get active so..

The dirty Eevee stretched, rolling off from the top of the cuddle puddle. He let out a small oof when he came in contact with the floor a moment later than he expected. The strange, definitely not earth floor….

Eevee blinked, watching not one but two of his brothers curl together sleeping. Yesterday wasn't a dream he realized happily, watching the three other Eevees scattered throughout the tent sleep. A pleasant smell carried his paws out of the durable plastic flap, emerging to a bright, just after dawn day. The human (Thomas his always chaotic mind somehow supplied) was back making more hot food. Well, at least he seemed to be attempting with varying success, a stack of nice enoughly done pancakes sat on a plate to his left, with a smaller (but not by much) pile of black crispy pancakes to his right. Now the left crispy brown ones looked appealing, the Eevee thought the crispy, burnt pancakes smelled like a gift from Arceus himself.

Thomas stumbled in surprise when the stack of miserable pancakes clattered to the ground, only to laugh as he watched the dirtier of the Eevee pair dive at them hungrily.

"Well breakfast won't be ready for a bit more, but I wouldn't mind the early clean up crew" he giggled as the Eevee glanced up only for a moment, only to turn to back and attack the pancakes again.

"Just make sure not to scatter them too far" Thomas warned kindly, turning back to the camping stove " we'll have to clean up afterwards." The trainer smiled as the Eevee chirped in agreement.

Soon the others crawled out, and the burnt pancake (and other foods Thomas just didn't get right) devourer went to chirp and chat with the others. Food was served, equipment packed, and about two hours later Thomas was adjusting everything onto his back. If it hasn't been for Logan, Thomas knew he would never have had his stuff packed so neatly.

"Welp" Thomas said out loud "it's time to get going, we have a gym challenge next town" his four cheered different levels of excitement. He turned to the two wild runners "I guess this is goodbye for now" he smiled

After so many run-ins with Virgil, Thomas had skillfully learned how to hide his heart ripping out everytime he had to leave puzzle pieces behind.

This skill came into play hard when Virgil looked up at the trainer with such sorrow, Thomas nearly burst to tears right then and there. Instead he smiled, offering a hand for comforting pets. Virgil did not walk near the hand, instead letting out and angry hiss.

Thomas shook his head, wishing he could fully understand what Virgil was saying, but got the message "I can't force them, you know better than anyone here that I only bring members on my team if they want to join. Never by force, I always give an option."

Virgil wine was cut off though as the dirty Eevee snapped from his frozen trance and bounded forwards, stepping up to Thomas and putting his paw onto the human's hand. Somewhere in him remembered a similar interaction with Roman when they first met, but that was washed away when the other Eevee came up and chirped something, only to get tackled by Virgil right after.

"Oh" Thomas realized, smiling "I'm guessing that's a good thing?" He asked his team beside him. Patton nodded excitedly, Roman purred, and Logan merely flicked his tail positively.

"I guess I can do this then" he slid out two pokeballs, setting them on the ground. The wild pair looked at eachother one last time before the smaller marked one nodded, and both touched the white button.

"So" Thomas asked as the group wandered down the trail, focusing on the pair walking (or in the dirtier ones case bouncing) by his feet "I was wondering if I could offer giving you names? You don't have to, but-" Virgil rubbed the trainer's cheek from his spot in the hood, stopping the human's splutter of words before chirping some of his own down. The two below responded after a moment and Virgil gave off a purr as a signal: both had agreed it would be ok.

"Alright.." he mumbled. Earlier events of when the dirt covered Eevee had offered his paw in the same way Roman had came rushing back, turning and twisting until a name suddenly formed "how about Remus for you?" He wondered. Said Eevee stumbled as though surprised, but after a moment Remus gave a happy chirp, Thomas smiled in return.

Finally there was the Eevee with the special marks on his face. There was something in his mind that he felt for some reason, it just felt right for him to call the other

"Janus" he mumbled by accident out loud, the trainer's eyes widened as he glanced curiously at the pokemon "what about Janus?" The Eevee seemed to think hard although weighing the name vs. something only he saw, he knew. Before Thomas could speak the little Eevee glaced up and nodded, the most determined nod he had gotten out of the six of them for figuring out their name.

Six of them.

Thomas grinned widely as all six of his Eevees walked or rode on him. It had all started with Roman, the first time Thomas had found a puzzle piece. Then Patton and Logan, Virgil, and finally Remus and Janus. It felt right, like he was home. Like he was with family.

"It's interesting," he voiced quietly to his team "how many of us have seen each other before really meeting each other. There's even more to explore in the future, so many possibilities, so many mysteries. But I'm glad" he sighed gleefully as the distant sound of cars passed. The town was close by.

"I'm glad I get to do it with so many familiar faces. I'm glad that we all have connected stories. I.. honestly couldn't imagine walking our next journey without you guys, my completed puzzle

My family."

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Objection!: Chapter 28

Chapter title: Two Unlikely Loves

A/n: Im sorry chapters have been shorter and they've been so bad im so so sorry im trying and im messing up and im just trying and im sorry for the awfulness that is this chapter. anyway here you go

First | Previous | Next

words: 2031

summary: Tensions run high as the courthouse is under siege

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene, murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link

They all rushed in, practically tripping over one another.

“Patton!” They cry, all in different tones of utter concern. Not Logan however, he bides his time, avoiding eye contact as everyone gives their hearty hellos and tearful reliefs. “Why don't we give them some time?” He hears Barbara whisper, the group nods and somehow he's left alone in the awkward silence of an unusually quiet Patton. Realizing he hadn't said a word to anyone who had come in.

“Lo” he begins, Logan hears his voice finally and he understands what he feels. Anger, he wishes not to speak to Patton. Not now, not ever. “Logan” Patton tries again, the man can hear the softest break in his sweet tone. What was he thinking? How dare he ignore Patton.

He coughs, breaking his own silence but that's it. He will not make the first move, he should have been trusted. Why didn't he..”trust me?” He hadnt meant to let the words fall, he hadn't given them such permission.

“Oh starlight”

Damn Patton was good, he almost took to look at him. He continues to stare around the room, it felt bland, unlike his gorgeous eyes who he could find himself lost in. He listens, the shifting and sudden grunts of struggle catches him off guard. He turns, finding Patton's feet trembling as he clutches desperately to his IV line as he barely steps forward. Logan can see the pain and he finds himself completely in motion.

“Patton” He chides, rushing over he takes the shaking arms, situating the stubborn lawyer back on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of him with a deep breath of relief. “Do you enjoy bringing pain” Logan jokes, but finds no ease in Patton's face. The tears swell and he shakes his sorry head. “Oh sunshine” He sighs

“I'm so sorry” Patton laments, Logan, though slight, shakes his apology away. He leans up, taking the man's cheek, kissing him softly as they melt into one. God how he missed him. Patton deepend said kiss, not that either mind one bit.

“If you ever..” Logan begins, gasping for short breaths, his blush quite noticeable “Do that again..” Patton nods, understanding instantly.

“Not planning too...at least not this year” He shrugs, Logan nudges him, squeezing his leg sweetly. “C’mere” He gestures, they connect once more, it's soft and feels light in this heavy world. Once away, they allow their fingers to fiddle together, the puzzle just fits. It was their puzzle, years to find all the corner pieces but now it was their turn to fill in the middle. A quick gasp escapes Patton, he pushes gently on Logan. “The twins!” He exclaims, was it some kind of sense?

“Papa!” They cry in unison, rushing into the room barreling through Logan. Both decide to speak the fastest they can muster, speeding through their weeks and adventures. Patton listens intently, his eyes hazing to a prideful Logan. He wasn't sure what came over him but the overwhelming feeling of simply breaking down was noticeable. Not to the twins, nor Emile….but Logan saw it instantly.

“Hey, why don't you both venture to the shops with Emile and pick out a nice gift for your father” Logan suggests, Patton trembles as he waves them a careful goodbye not sure how much longer he can hold up. Once the door shuts Logan works quick as Patton shatters. Seeing the twins was the breaking point, his head pounds. Logan helps the quiet man and his tears back into bed, once settled he cuddles Patton, a comforting rub to his harms and Patton clutches hard. Logan can feel the wet soak him but he doesn't care, nothing but Patton concerns him.

“I'm so sorry” He sniffles, barely audible through his almost fearful sobs. As if any louder and he could get in serious trouble...Logan's heart sunk. He pushes the image of Liam out of his mind kissing Patton's forehead. This was their room, area and moment. Nobody dare touch the ever fragile bubble. Ready to collapse, become delicate glass to fall. It takes awhile but the exhaustion sets in and Patton falls into it, releasing Logan before he does, giving him the freedom not to bear him down. Logan sighs sitting up, he checks the clock realizing he himself may have dozed off as well. The best sleep he had gotten in a month, though guilty he was so thankful for Patton being here, awake.

“Mm” He rubs his eyes, the bags becoming prominent under them. He doesn't flinch feeling Patton wrap his arms around Logan, laying his head on the lawyer's shoulder. A sweet kiss to his neck, a tingle he had missed sent down his back.

“You're exhausted” Patton identifies, connecting their hands. Logan scoffs, a smile with a tinge of truth however. “I'm here, you can rest Lo” Patton promises, soothing comfort down Logan's arm and cheek. Logan bites down, clenching his jaw so tight it begins to pulse. He avoids anything that will reflect his delicate state. Logan takes Patton's hand, kissing it but he isn't there. His mind floods with schedules and routines, meals and things he must do, children cries and joy.

And he loves it.

Yes he's drained, but all he can think of is the conversation he had with Patton eons ago. Thats how he felt, these children could take everything from him. Sleep, food, anything and hed smile with delight.

“I'd like to move in” Logan proposes, Patton chuckles into his shoulder. A tired smile accompanied with a nod. Logan takes this as his moment to convince, quickly preparing an argument but Patton has his own idea.

“And here I thought you already had” Patton laments, Logan yawns but hes amused. Something about the way he felt with Patton allowed him to enjoy it. Allowed him to just relax, always helps that Patton had taken to massaging Logan without a prompt. But out the window there he was, he knew Patton felt it, his shoulders tightened. “Dearest?” Patton hums, kissing him gently.

“We need to talk about Virgil”

~~~

“I want to see my little boy” Patton sings, Remy chuckles as Emile brings Thomas forth. Cradling the baby in Patton's arms.

“Here he comes” Emile teases, Patton giggles, joined by the baby soon enough.

“Oh my here he does, look at this angel” Patton coos, tickling ever so carefully his stomach, the both allowing themselves a moment with each other. The sweetness the child radiates is almost too much for Patton's weak heart. Soon enough everyone cycled in for their reunion. Logan stood protective by Patton the entire time, a hand on his shoulder and love infecting him. Patton was grateful.

The twins were impatient and they had every right to be, spending almost three hours with their father and Logan simply chatting away. Patton loved it,he loved cuddling Valerie while Remus explained his journeys, he loved Remus fiddling with his hair as Valerie recounted their days with Logan. And most of all he loved Logan. He loved that he got to share this with someone, someone who cared someone who he loved and who loved him back.

Soon enough the room darkened and Roman, after a copious check up and a thorough conversation volunteered to take them home for some rest.

“You are truly my hero” Patton teases, knowing that title was held by only one person. One person who was currently making sure the children were bundled up before they said their goodbyes. Roman gave him one last squeeze before leading them out followed by James who waves the door closed.

“You look exhausted” Logan notices, fluffing up Patton's pillow, making sure the lawyer remains cozy and comfortable. Patton takes his cheeks as he leans in and plants a quick kiss on him. He pulls away, getting prepared to take his sleep, Logan smiles timidly planting a kiss on his head before finally releasing his overbearing care. Not that Patton minds. Logan sets up in the chair next to him, turning the night light on and flipping quietly through a book.

It remains peaceful and still for awhile, Logan almost dozes off with his blanket sprawled around him. But as the clock strikes eleven thirty, the door slides open. And of course panic sets in, why were the doctors here and so late at night? But when the gruff boots and purple jacket reflected on the light, Logans panic set in even more.

“Virgil” Logan identifies in a whisper, the detective meets his eyes. The bags are prominent. But his boiling hatred was fiery. “He's sleeping” Logan scolds, folding up his blanket and putting the book on the shelf. “Where were you all day?” Logan goes, quickly back tracking. “Actually no, I don't care”

“Lo be nice” Patton mumbles through his pillow, the pair jump and Logan joins his side quickly. He wipes his eyes sitting up, allowing Logan to serve him water, taking it gratefully. Virgil wants to come forward, his head pulsed as his eyes laid on Patton. He missed him so much, but Logans glare stopped him. “Thank you starlight” Patton put his glass back, and Virgil adored the casualness of their physical connection, the nicknames and the fact that Logans and Pattons hands were connected. But he hated that he couldn't enjoy this right now. “Heya Virge” Patton swallows, something forced down.

“Pat..” Virgil breathes, he wants to gush but something holds him back. Patton bit his lower lip, he extended his arms, motioning for Virgil to come forth. The breath that escaped Virgil lifted the pressure from his chest.

“Patton no” Logan reminds, he doesn't mean to be controlling but he cares for Patton more than he can describe.

“Logan come on” Virgil sighs. Patton clutches his blankets knowing hes only doing this out of confrontation and his fear of such. But with what Logan told him...shouldn't he be mad?

He was

He was painfully hurt

“What did you tell him?” Virgil points as Patton refocuses.

“The honest truth and what I found Patton should know” Logan explains. Patton takes his hand, feeling the sweat build. Logan takes the signal and finds himself breathing with relaxation. “You took the money, you and Remy took the money” He lays out flat. “When Patton came to you about Liam you should have done something” Logan spits “Instead, like everyone else in that goddamn precinct you took Liams vile money and kept your mouth shut” Logan reveals, Virgil averts his guilty eyes. Patton twinges, clasping tighter to Logan.

“Patton let me just..I…” Virgil feels something clamp tight in his throat. He has an explanation but nothing worth Patton's forgiveness. “You said you h-had a plan and you were gonna leave i thought, its just a little longer and Damian and I-”

“Virgil are you fucking kidding?” Logans voice remains quiet but it seethes, Patton struggles but sits up pulling Logan closer to him.

“Dearest, language” He whispers sweetly, wiping the sweat away from Logans hot head. “Its ok, I'm okay and you're okay and the twins and Damian and virge...everyones ok” Patton rambles, Logan softens at the soft breaths he takes. Idiot, he punishes. Patton was tired, he was shaking ever so slightly.

“Im so sorry Pat, I should go” And he does, Virgil gives him one more apologetic look before slamming the door away. Patton releases an exasperated breath before falling back into his pillow. How many times was he going to cry today?

“Love?” Logan sits with him, Patton cant conjure up words he simply shakes his head, the tears flow. Logan adjusts so he cradles Patton, a gentle lullaby his hummed to him as he remembers every time a touch had never felt so loving, and filled with pain instead. “I love you so very much” He promises, he was so glad Patton took that from him.

I dont think Id want to give that to anyone else

Soon enough, the pair was comfortably asleep, both with dreams...or nightmares of their own. But together, and surely they wouldn't let the other be hurt, not again, not ever again.

61 notes · View notes

delimeful · 5 years

Text

how easy you are to need (4)

warnings: codependency, suicidal thoughts, self loathing, crying, fear, misunderstandings out the wazoo, virgil sweetie you are so fucking stupid and valid, mentions of violence

The humans began to get antsy as it grew closer and closer to the full moon.

Virgil couldn’t see the night sky from the living room, so he wasn’t sure exactly how round the moon was, but he was a werewolf and his body knew what his mind didn’t. He spent more time curled up in the heavier blankets, trying to ignore the bone-deep ache that radiated through him, increasing with every day that he didn’t shift.

Still, he stubbornly held onto his human form, not wanting to relinquish the easy camaraderie and relaxing days he had with his humans. Even if they were terrible at hiding their weird behavior from him. His hearing was enhanced even in human form, so there was no way he could miss the muttered arguments Logan and Roman would have in the kitchen, though they spoke in vague enough terms that he often felt completely lost regardless.

He knew he was the source of their anxieties, though, just from the way they looked at him when they thought he wasn’t paying attention, the snatches of whispered conversations with his name in them, the occasional hesitance Logan displayed while checking on his wounds. He was healing fast under their care, and wondered if maybe they worried he was going to fight back when the time came.

The thought was ridiculous. Hadn’t they already realized that Virgil was hopelessly attached?

Still, now that he was well enough to walk around without tearing any stitches, he spent a lot of time wandering after one of the three as they went about their daily tasks, a blanket draped over his shoulders to fight off the phantom chills he got from being without a proper pelt. They took to having a shadow well, for the most part. Patton would ask him for help planting the spring tulips and teach him how to carefully handle the sprouts, Logan would steadfastly shoot down any of Virgil’s attempts to help with household chores, and Roman…

Well, any time Virgil followed Roman outside, the dramatic human suddenly found something else indoors that urgently needed doing. He also spent a lot of time clutching at the empty scabbard at his hip, so it didn’t take long for Virgil to connect the dots.

“You can practice with that thing, y’know.” He eventually said, startling Roman from his longing windowgazing.

“Huh?” Roman managed, intelligently. Virgil snorted at him.

“Your sword? You haven’t touched it since my first few days here.” It had been unsettling at the beginning, to be honest. He’d never known a hunter to part with a weapon willingly, especially not around a monster.

Roman was taken aback for a moment. “Well, it just seemed to make you upset- didn’t it? It’s fine, my skills are as sharp as ever.” He flashed an arrogant smile.

He hadn’t wanted Virgil to feel threatened during these comfortable weeks, since his humans were ridiculous and kind in the strangest ways, and now he probably didn’t want to remind Virgil about how these weeks would inevitably end.

“Hey.” Virgil said, drawing Roman’s attention back. “It’s fine. I know I don’t have anything to fear from that blade.” Certainly not in this form.

Roman blinked at him, stunned, and then he smiled again- this one real and soft and resplendent- before jumping to his feet and going to grab his sword. Virgil sat down heavily on the couch, a small grin on his own face, and watched him run through stances and drills for the rest of the afternoon.

The next time he saw that sword, it was the evening before the full moon.

He’d been peripherally aware of the growing tension between his humans, but as the week progressed, he couldn’t drag his attention away from the pain eating at his bones long enough to care. He’d stopped venturing outside, instead staying huddled on the couch and sleeping through most of the day, the way he had back when he’d been too injured to stand. Patton spent some days with him, and others drawn away to argue with the other two.

It was frankly a miracle that Roman stepping into the room managed to catch his attention at all, with how terrible he felt. His gaze flickered between Roman’s tense expression and the sword at his side, and he realized that despite his best efforts, his time was probably up. “Roman?” He asked anyways, voice rough with sleep.

“Hey, Virge.” He said, and sat down on the edge of the couch in lieu of answering Virgil’s unspoken question. They sat in silence for a moment, and then a moment later, heavy footsteps heralded Patton’s arrival. He was holding the broom he used to sweep the porch menacingly, and his glare made Virgil shrink despite it being directed solely at Roman.

“I thought we agreed we would all talk to Virgil about this together!” He said in his ‘I’m-disappointed-in-you’ voice. Roman held his hands up in defense.

“I’m just sitting here! I wasn’t going to say anything until you guys got back! Promise!” He insisted, leaving Virgil to look between the two of them with mild confusion and the beginnings of worry.

“Talk to me about what?” Was something wrong?

They both grew quiet, sharing a loaded glance, and Logan took the opportunity to appear in the hallway, adjusting his glasses with a frown at them both. “We wish to speak to you about the approaching full moon, though I’m sure you’ve heard us bickering over the matter in the past few days.”

Virgil nodded, feeling his heart begin to pound. That was what they’d been arguing about?

“Sorry about that, Virgil.” Patton grimaced apologetically, coming closer to rest a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil shrugged, and Roman shifted on his other side.

“So! Since we can’t exactly put this off for much longer, what would you prefer, Virgil? Staying inside, here, or outside?” He asked, moving to stand and pace. Virgil looked up at him, processing the offer.

Well, shucks. He was kind of flattered they were dedicated enough to the concept of his comfort to let him get his deathblood all over their house. Unless they had a secret basement to use or something. Either way, he wasn’t going to take them up on the offer. He wanted to see the forest that had been his home for so long before he died.

“Uh, outside.” He finally responded, and then winced when Patton’s face fell.

“Are you sure, Virge? It’ll be cold, and dark, and…”

“Patton.” Logan cut in, not unkindly. “We decided we’d listen to what Virgil wanted, right?”

His softest human sniffled. “Right.”

Virgil felt another wave of pain roll through him, and stiffly began untangling himself from the couch to stand. “I think… we should probably do this now.”

“Now?” Roman squeaked at an embarrassingly high pitch. Patton seemed to agree, and even Logan looked reluctant. It was kind of heartwarming. It seemed like maybe they’d gotten a little attached, too.

Still… “Yeah, now.” Virgil sighed, regretfully. “I don’t think I can hold this for much longer.”

They couldn’t argue with that, and he lead the way out of the house, stepping down off the porch onto the solid dirt. Regretfully, he shrugged off the blanket around his shoulders and handed it over to a tearful Patton. Roman stepped forwards, fingers tapping out a nervous pattern on the hilt of his sword.

“Okay, so- what… what do we need to do? Are you… should we be prepared for your wolf form to attack, or-?”

“Nah.” Virgil shook his head. If he could have found it in himself to attack them to save his own skin, he would have bit Logan all those weeks ago.

Besides, even if he did successfully run away, the idea of returning to his lonely haunting of the forest, dodging his humans’ attempts to catch him, being alone again- it wasn’t likely he’d survive long there, either.

He glanced away from the forest, turning to see Roman’s brow furrowed. It was strange, wanting to comfort a hunter instead of being afraid of them. He was strange, bonding to humans. It was no wonder he was going to die.

“Don’t worry.” He gave Roman his best attempt a wry smile, exhaling nervously. “I get it. I won’t- make things difficult for you. On my honor.” He added, remembering the phrase Roman so often used in his tales.

“What?” Roman asked, but Virgil had already released his white-knuckled grip on his human form, and fell to all fours as his bones began to crack and shift painfully. He couldn’t help but let out a whine; he’d really held this shift back for way too long.

After a moment, the shift was finished, and the sense of utter wrongness under his skin finally abated. He let himself stay in a heap of wolf for a moment, panting from exertion.

“V… Virgil?”

He huffed once, and then got to his feet, shaking to settle his fur.

“Woah!” Roman jumped back, alarm lining his shoulders, hand back to his sword hilt.

Understandable. He was a lot bigger in this form, more so than even a normal wolf. He ducked his head slightly, trying to look a bit shorter. The three humans looked at him with varying levels of wariness, Logan and Patton forced back by Roman’s outstretched arms.

“Uh, hey?” Roman said, stepping a little closer. “Dark and Stormy, you in there?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, giving him a sarcastic look despite himself. Did he really think Virgil had so little self control as to lose himself to his wolf form? He wasn’t some newly-turned.

Roman grinned, shoulders dropping a little, and in the next moment Patton was flinging himself at Virgil.

“Patton!” Two voices shouted as his arms wrapped around Virgil’s fluffy neck fur. He reared back a little in surprise, and then tapped his nose as gently as possible to his human’s forehead in reprimand. What in the world was Patton thinking, tackling a monster?

“Sorry!” Patton said, drawing back sheepishly. “I just got over-excited…”

“Well, I suppose that answers the question of whether or not he’s docile.” Logan said dryly, relief in his voice. Roman had gone as far as to draw his sword, looking shaken. At least someone in this group had survival instincts.

Virgil snorted, and then laid down, his heart racing in his throat as though in protest. He’d promised Roman that he’d make things easy. He could at least do that for his strange, confusing humans. He dipped his head at Roman in a mockery of a nod, and then settled between his paws, trusting that it would be quick.

“... Virgil? What are you doing, there, buddy?”

Or not. He sighed through his nose. Did they really think he hadn’t figured it out by now? He wasn’t an idiot.

The irritation he felt was almost enough of a distraction to prevent him from trembling as he rolled to the side, letting his underside show and his head roll back to expose his neck. Almost. Everything in him screamed against such a vulnerable move, but he was tired of fighting.

There was a sharp intake of breath above him, and his ears flicked at the sound of Roman’s voice. “Logan, I… I need you to tell me that he’s not doing what I think he’s doing.”

“It looks like he’s asking for belly rubs?” Patton chimed in, making Virgil do a full body twitch of embarrassment. Were they making fun of him?

“His body language is much too negative for that to be the reason.” Logan said, proving himself once again the quick-witted one. “He… appears to be waiting for you to…”

“For me to kill him.” Roman spat as though the words were bitter in his mouth. “He thinks we want to kill him.”

There was a heartbeat-long pause, and then all three of them were talking over each other in upset voices, upending every one of Virgil’s expectations. He recoiled back into an upright position despite himself, staring at them with a complete lack of comprehension. What did Roman mean, ‘thinks’? Virgil knew what they wanted from him!

But… what was the point of pretending, at this point? What could their goal possibly be?

He needed a mouth that could speak human tongue.

Too panicked to care about the pain, he forced himself back into a human form, ignoring the extra appendages that lingered due to his half-hearted shift. “What are you trying to pull?”

They quieted at his frantic question, and Logan was the one to regain himself first. “Virgil, we… we don’t want to kill you-”

“What?” Virgil cut him off, bewildered. “Yes, you do.”

“No, we don’t?” Logan rebutted weakly, looking confused at Virgil’s certainty. “Why would we want to-?”

“I know you know how magecraft works.” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes. “The magical properties of a werewolf pelt are coveted by anyone who knows anything about magic. The potential uses are-”

“The potential uses of your skin?” Logan retorted, as though the very idea was ridiculous. Virgil knew otherwise.

“Yes? Is it so hard to believe I figured that you’d at least get some use out of my corpse? It’d be better-” He bit his tongue on the rest of the sentence.

“Is it so hard to believe that maybe we didn’t want to kill you at all?” Logan asked, voice icy. “That we aren’t monsters who would kill someone who had saved us?”

“You’re not monsters!” Virgil said, voice sharp. “I don’t think you… you want to kill me. Not anymore. But I’m an actual monster, and trust me, I know how humans operate. It’s not safe for you to leave me alive, so you won’t.”

Logan stared at him, seemingly stunned into silence, and Virgil nodded, glad to have made him understand.

Unfortunately, that meant that there was nothing to stop Roman from approaching, sword in hand. Virgil forgot himself and flinched back automatically, ear flattening and eyes closing, and heard a ‘snkt’ noise. Blade sinking into flesh- but why he didn’t feel any pain?

He opened his eyes to see the sword driven into the hard dirt almost up to its hilt, and Roman grabbed his hands, ignoring the sharp, inhuman claws to look at him earnestly.

“Listen to me, Virgil. Really listen, okay? We don’t want to kill you. We aren’t like hunters, you- you aren’t dangerous to us just because you’re not human!” He leaned in to bump heads with him, and Virgil was astonished to see that he was near tears. “You’re our friend, you stupid asshole!”

Virgil blinked at him. “I- what?”

In the next second, he was slammed into a hug at full force by Patton, who was shaking with silent sobs, occasionally getting a word or two of garbled nonsense out. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around the human, noting the smell of baked goods on him a little hysterically.

“Virgil.” Logan crouched next to him, completing the huddle of humans around him. Virgil looked up at him helplessly, Patton still attached to him like a very upset limpet. “It’s late, and you clearly need time to process what we’ve said, and… and vice versa. Please, let’s rest for now.”

Seeing as he could barely put two thoughts together at the moment, it was a good idea. He nodded, though the thought of forcing his human form for another night was enough to make him wince.

Logan sagged slightly in relief, and then pulled Roman to his feet and carefully detangled an unwilling Patton from him, soothing him with a few whispered words. When Virgil started to get up, however, Logan motioned him back down. “Shift on the ground, Virge. It will keep you from placing undue stress on your bones as a quadruped.”

“Shift?” Virgil echoed dumbly.

“Yes, shift.” Logan responded, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t have you spending the night in a form that pains you to maintain, though I hope you’ll explain the mechanics of that to me later. For now, the living room is big enough to hold all of us even with you at your largest.”

“Blanket fort.” Roman said solemnly, and Patton brightened slightly, still wiping at his face.

An hour later, settled into a nest of pillows and blankets and surrounded by his humans- each one resting a hand on his fur as though afraid he’d somehow vanish- Virgil was drifting off into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in months. Things weren’t fixed- wouldn’t be for a while- but at the moment, he was surrounded by his pack, and warmer than he’d ever felt before.

#sanders sides #werewolf au #werewolf #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #writing #my writing #heyatn #how easy you are to need #were back baby

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