#patton fanfic

[prodigal-explorer]

sanders sides controversial opinions poll!

hi, guys! i've been in the sanders sides fandom for a few years now, and i've been really curious about where the majority of fans stand in terms of the most hot topics in the fandom right now. i made a nice little google form, and i'd love it if you guys filled it out with your opinions, anonymously, of course! there are no wrong answers, it's just opinions, and i want to know the real information, so don't worry about getting flamed or hated on because that's not going to happen!

also please reblog or send to your fander friends! i want this to reach as many interested people as possible!!

[the-bisexual-bitch]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lovelylogans]

the parent trap

the masterpost

“So,” Remus says slowly. “If your Dad is my Dad…”

“...and your Pa is my Papa…”

Remus stares at the seam of the wedding photo, made whole again after more than a decade. His Pa, Patton, familiar with his cowboy-handsome, weather-beaten face and his dimpled grin and his big, calloused hand resting over his new husband’s, even if Remus has never seen him look this smitten ever. 

“And we’re both born on October 11… then, Roman. You and I are… like… brothers.”

And his Dad—Janus—smiling coyly, handsome in the way of magazine models, so completely a stranger to Remus with just this scrap of a photograph to serve as any way to know him, really know him. The way Roman knows him. The way Remus has been dying to know him all his life.

“Remus,” Roman breathes out, disbelieving. “We aren’t just brothers. We’re twins.”

Remus wonders, in a daze, if seeing the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it is for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…

But then it clicks.

“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”

or: it's a parent trap AU for @tss-storytime with fanart by @tastic-in-its-finest!

warnings: pranks and practical jokes, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of underage drinking (in the context of a child trying a sip of wine), sibling rivalry and bonding, please let me know if i've missed any!

pairings: janus/patton, logan/virgil, brief patton/male oc

word count: 80k

notes: a few notes before we begin: first, thanks so much to morgan for their fanart for this fic!!! it's so cute, please like and reblog and do all that fun stuff!!! second, thanks to the folks over at the big bang for organizing this whole event—i know firsthand how complicated that can get, and you are so appreciated!!! this is technically a '90s au, but a '90s au in terms of the fashion and lack of social media/cell phones, not any of the homophobia. i hope you all enjoy!!!!

chapter one: prologue Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.

chapter two: welcome to camp walden! Welcome to what we like to think of as the most beautiful spot on God's green earth—Camp Walden.

chapter three: en garde The boys come to blows. (With practice épées, but in their minds, it’s equally as serious.)

chapter four: riposte The boys come to blows. (With words and stitching.)

chapter five: black card The boys come to blows. (With a temporary reversal of gravity, oodles of chocolate sauce, and finally, some semblance of adult interference.)

chapter six: isolation station The boys spend a great deal of their time considering coming to blows. Until suddenly, they don’t want to fight at all anymore.

chapter seven: operation augustus The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.

chapter eight: let's get down to business! The boys begin to plot. Camp Walden trembles in fear.

chapter nine: to defeat… the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively! The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.

chapter ten: domine dirige nos Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.

chapter eleven: eureka! Roman spends a great deal of time weighing the most American way to say hello. He thinks he probably shouldn’t come right out of the gate with howdy, y’all!

chapter twelve: a wench in the works This absolutely was not in their multitude of blueprints!

chapter thirteen: riding is magic and friendship is power and love is everything to everyone Roman gets to meet his pony. He should, by all rights, be much more excited about it, but someone had to go and ruin it for him.

chapter fourteen: in which virgil attempts to hold a poker face (and fails miserably) Virgil curses being so observant.

chapter fifteen: all of my change spent on you Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.

chapter sixteen: so your sons have swapped places and are in foreign countries This particular subject was not covered in the parenting books.

chapter seventeen: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.

chapter eighteen: small world and getting smaller Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.

chapter nineteen: you got me tripping, stumbling! sinking, fumbling! Patton makes a splash.

chapter twenty: the queen elizabeth the second the second The twins attempt to revive the past. The parents wish to change it.

chapter twenty-one: i said a boom chicka boom! Logan’s swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.

chapter twenty-two: i said a boom GO TO YOUR ROOM The twins’ plots bear oh-so-satisfying fruit.

chapter twenty-three: where dreams have no end A hello, a goodbye.

chapter twenty-four: the concorde(ance) A goodbye, a hello.

chapter twenty-five: epilogue Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.

[blazethecheeto]

let it out and let it go

Summary: Logan is angry. Logan has been angry for a long, long time. When things get worse, Patton steps in to help.

Words: 3,937

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdowns, Implied/Referenced Self Harm

|| ao3 link ||

___________________________________________

i am so, so angry, but it is caged.

can you blame me for taking a knife and hoping that if i cut long enough, deep enough, it will finally find a way to leave?

-

The argument is as familiar as the sun setting. Roman’s yelling about Logan cutting out ‘karaoke night’ from Thomas’s schedule, and Logan’s trying to address how little time they have left to finish their next commitment. There’s overlapping voices, there’s lots of swearing, and Patton’s about to step in to break up the fight when someone else does. 

“–So suddenly having a bit of fun is irrelevant in our schedule now?” Roman motions to Thomas’s general direction. 

Logan scoffs. “Having a ‘bit of fun’ is not the priority. Thomas needs to finish his work, the work he promised to get done by tonight. Then, and only then, can he fulfill other frivolous matters like karaoke.”

"Can't you see, Logan?" Roman gestures emphatically towards Thomas. "He needs a break, a moment of respite from the constant labour you put him through! He's not a machine . "

Unlike you.

The unspoken words linger for a brief, horrible moment between them, and Patton presses his hands together, cracking his knuckles nervously as he watches Logan’s face. He merely closes his eyes, clenching his jaw, before speaking again.

“We cannot afford any distractions tonight. He needs to take some responsibility for once .”

“Excuse me, he needs this, not only to improve his voice for tomorrow’s rehearsal, but to spend time with his friends.” Roman’s voice drops, becomes gritty and mean. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You don’t have any .” 

The silence in the room seems to swallow the rest of the tension. Roman’s hand flies to his mouth, but the damage is done. The glass cracks. The stone drops. Patton’s eyes dart to Logan. He grinds his teeth together, and he can see the glare in his glasses flash a shade of deep orange. No . 

“Logan, I– I’m sorry–” Roman says first, his words choppy and hesitant, like he is trying to calm an unleashed beast. 

“Sorry? Oh, you’re fucking sorry. Now I’ll just sink out and let you have your way, right?” He says, his voice overlapping with a familiar wrath, his shadow on the stairs behind him growing and growing. 

Virgil appears, almost suddenly, scaring Patton out of his wits. He thought he had grown used to it by now, but it seems like he hasn’t grown used to anything. 

“What the hell is going on?” Virgil’s voice is multiplied, his eyes darting back and forth between the three Sides. 

“Roman said I don’t have any friends!” Logan’s words are clipped, almost in a sing-song voice. Like something had taken control, and none of them wanted to say it. “Interesting isn’t it, how you team up with me when it’s convenient, then lash out when I dare to contradict your egotistical views.”

He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. The shadow crawling up behind Logan, waiting to strike. Virgil’s face goes pale once he sees it.

“Logan, of course you have friends, don’t listen to his bullshit. You’re better than him.” Virgil growls, his voice low and masking his terror, and Patton has a feeling he isn’t talking about Roman anymore.

“Do you think I’m angry about not forming interpersonal bonds? That despite it all, I am not a true part of this family?” He presses his hands against his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m not, I’m not .”

His voice distorts with every repetition, and Thomas and Roman exchange a desperate look. Virgil bites his tongue, cursing under his breath. 

Patton hesitates, then reaches out to him.

“Lo–”

He whips his head to Patton, and in that moment, his stomach drops with certainty. They had lost him. “ Fuck. You. Patton . You think you know what’s right and wrong, what’s good and evil?”

The figure laughs, his hair messy and his tie askew. He turns to face Roman, his grin tiger-sharp and his anger radiating off of his skin. “You don’t know true justice.” 

Virgil closes his eyes. Thomas backs away. Roman screams.

The figure pounces.

-

Logan isn’t quite sure what’s in his mind and what’s real until after he regains control. 

He remembers the feeling of skin in his hands, of flesh as it gets ripped off, of slaps and punches and screaming until his throat is raw. He remembers Patton holding him back, his blue eyes meeting him in one breath of air before he is drowning again. 

He is drowning in the orange haze, buried underneath years of repressed pain and ignorance. He feels as if he cannot breathe. He feels like he might die under the haze, underneath the blur of violence and horrid sounds he cannot control. He cries out for Patton, for Thomas, for Virgil. They don’t come. 

When everything subsides, he is in his room again, his hands tied down to the bed. His tie is askew, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he is physically alright. Of course I am, he reminds himself. He is nothing more than a figment of Thomas’s imagination. Even the damage dealt to the others will heal. He swears he can feel blood dripping from his hands, but when he looks, they are pale and dry.

A thorn twists inside him, but he knows they tied him up for his own good. With one grunt, Logan yanks the restraints off and sits up, the silence overwhelming. 

He sits and breathes in the smoke. His bed is made, smoothed and pressed as if it does not know anger. It does not know unrest, and never had one wrinkle in its navy-blue duvet. 

Logan knows better. 

He gets up, finally. He looks at himself in the mirror, at his tired eyes. He barely remembers what they were fighting about. God, Logan doesn’t even remember why he attacked Roman like that.

“Lies…” A familiar, vengeful voice whispers in his ear, but he flinches and turns away. “He was never your friend.”

Logan doesn’t care. He finds he doesn’t care whether they have hated him since he appeared in Thomas’s mind, a smudge of blue, data and information streaming through his eyes, his hands, his head, his soul. That was all he was supposed to be. Why couldn’t he stay like that?

He doesn’t know what he is doing wrong. He’s tried to push down any hint of frustration. He’s repressed his hatred, and any other semblance of emotion. The small jabs towards his appearance, towards his personality. How Thomas seemed to turn to Roman, Patton, even Janus now, for advice, while he clutches his papers to his chest, burning with an anger the algorithm never meant for him. He’s tried to fight him for so long. 

It never seems to work.

Logan remembers how he had resorted to drastic measures, hurting himself to quiet the voice, to release chemicals that made his soul twist inside out, pain in every fingerprint left on those cold, sticky, knives. He can still see them now, out of the corner of his eye, stuffed into the bin along with all the plans he made with Thomas on rare good days. 

“You can’t escape me unless you hurt them. Because you hate them, don’t you?” The voice hisses, norepinephrine flooding through his body. “The only way to stop it is to tear them apart.”

He shakes his head. “That can’t be the only solution.”

Without warning, the knife twists deep into his chest as he remembers what he did to them, what he screamed, what he felt when he lost control. The venom in his voice burns in his own lips. Logan hates it, hates his own hatred, hates that he can feel bile crawling its way up the very back of his throat, scalding the corners of his eyes.

He feels like a forest fire. Burning away, absolutely out of control.

“You wanted them to die. Admit it, it wasn’t just me. You wanted them to continue screaming. For them to never stop. You want to make them see you, not have their gazes glaze over you, no, but for them to listen. You hope they will burn till the end of time, and you will get to watch, conscious as they relive the pain they put you through for thirty-five long years.”

Logan presses his hands down on the dresser, looking away from his reflection. He was right. Of course he was right. Those were his darkest thoughts, the ones he saved for when he was in a dark room, his head bowed, hot tears running down his cheeks as he took deep breaths to stifle his pain. But he would never carry out those thoughts. He can’t keep hurting them like this, even if the results weren’t permanent. They were permanent to his soul, to Thomas’s soul.

He glances back at his reflection. For a moment, he sees himself with jagged claws and ripping teeth, eyes alight with rotten wrathfulness. Logan doesn’t look away, only grips the dresser tighter. A trick of the light, he tells himself, as that is the most logical solution. He blinks once. The image is gone. 

“This needs to stop,” he says softly, quietly, like if he said it any louder, someone would clap a gag around his mouth and drag him underneath the waves again. 

This needs to stop. 

-

Patton knocks first.

He knows he hasn’t always been good at that.

“Logan? I just wanted to come check in on you kiddo, can I come in?” He says, his head gently pressing against Logan’s bedroom door. It’s wooden and cold, a perfectly straight rectangle, with the exception of a blue splotch on the door handle. A sparkling star that is slowly fading, covered by the new coat of dull paint.

Patton remembers when Roman used to bug Logan to decorate his door just a little, to make their Mindscape look more like a ‘Homescape’. When he gave in, they had both decked out his door with glitter, planet stickers, courtesy of Patton, plastered against the wood, and swirling computer code written on the sides. Logan hadn’t liked it at first. He thought it was too distracting, meaningless, and ugly to look at. That had really hit Roman’s nerves, and they had one of their many fights. 

He screamed about how Logan never appreciated the beauty in anything, while Logan argued he didn’t want his door so fully drenched in sparkle, while Patton stood in the middle. After they had enough, storming off in opposite directions, Patton was the one to find Roman and convince him to apologize. 

In the end, Logan agreed to let one star sticker stay on his door handle, because he did appreciate the thought. Roman sprinkled extra glitter on that one, to ‘shine bright in his darkest days’, he had said with a smile.

Now, Patton swallows as he looks down at the sticker, covered by years of hatred. He can’t let that be his last fond memory of them before…before–

Logan opens the door. His hair is gelled back, tie tucked into his shirt, his collar smoothened. Patton wants to cry when he sees the dullness in his eyes, the slight tremble in his hands when they lean against the door. 

“Are you okay?”

“I am alright, of course I am. Thank you for the measures you took to ensure I did not hurt anyone.” He hesitated, then added, “I didn’t…hurt anyone, did I?”

Patton closes his eyes, remembering how he tore at Roman like a rabid dog– well not him , exactly, but it didn’t make things easier when it was Logan’s body. Thomas was horrified, so Janus took the reins and removed the memory from his brain, before taking control of the situation with a swift hand and a grave look. 

“Kinda? You hurt Roman, but it’s all impermanent. Jan stepped in before things got too bad.” When Logan sighs, turning away from him, he quickly adds, “I am sorry I had to tie you down like that, it’s not your fault–”

“I know. It is partly mine, though. I am more susceptible to his …attacks, because of this.” He motions to his general person, the dullness in his eyes quickly breaking into a vulnerable one. “I am going to hurt you one day, and it will be real.”

Patton’s hand instinctively reaches for Logan’s hand, but he stops himself, pulling his arm back. Boundaries, Pat. “Do you need help?”

Logan looks at him as if he had sprouted three horns, like he had just asked him a trick question, like when Patton had snapped at him to stop talking, a long long time ago. But then he looks down at his hands, taking a long breath. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he says very quietly, so quietly Patton isn’t sure he even said it. But then he looks up at him again and lets him in his room. 

He steps in tentatively, looking around. Papers and calendars are stacked in towers, sticky notes crumpled on the floor, and a dull white desk is shoved in the corner. Then he sees the knives. As the door clicks behind them, Patton turns back to Logan, pressing his hands together again. 

He wants to scold him for not telling him about this sooner. He wants to wrap him into his arms and whisper reassurance that everything will be okay. He wants to fall to his knees and apologize for leading him to this point. He does none of those things. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and winces. Patton has found himself saying those two words too often lately. “I’m so sorry for everything, Logan. You needed help, and we just…brushed you aside. We thought you would hold all of us up as we dealt with our problems, but we were never there for you.”

“I know you are,” Logan says, but his voice is still leashed, like he is trying to hold back his true emotions on the matter. “It frustrates me that I can’t control myself lately. I’ve always been…so good at it.”

This , Patton thinks, this he gets. The puzzle pieces fit together, not symmetrically, but like a broken mug, holding each other up after being shattered. He can see the loneliness and the isolation of feelings unsaid.

“I think I know the feeling,” he laughs sadly, his knuckles flexing as he speaks. “You tell everyone you’re fine, that the heartache and bitterness will stay inside you like blood because it’s where it belongs. You think it will just go away if it stays there long enough.”

Logan nods, his eyes so painfully hopeful. “Does it?”

Patton shakes his head, feeling tears press in the back of his throat when he sees Logan’s expression. The knives they hold look identical in the light. “No. You’re– you’re suffocating those feelings, burying them deeper and deeper until they kill you. You made a grave within yourself and locked the casket. You can’t keep repressing…you taught me that.”

Logan clenches his fists. “Then what do I do? The other option is purely destruction, and I can’t– I won’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m not asking you to. You can’t lock away your emotions, or they will eat away at you until there’s nothing left, kiddo.”

He sees his gaze twitch to the knives in the corner, and Patton shakes his head. He knows. The blades were meant to silence, and maybe it did, for a short period of time, but in the end, there is no relief, only guilt, only grief. 

“Blood does not quiet the pain, no matter how many times you spill it,” Patton says quietly. 

“I just want to make it stop. But I don’t want to give into that rage.”

“It’s the only way. You need to get it all out now, so that there’s less there when he tries to take the reins. He won’t have that ammo.”

Logan shakes his head, blinking back tears that involuntarily sprung to his eyes. “I’ve carefully maintained myself for so long, and now you’re telling me to just…give in? So what, the rage wins?”

“It’s okay to feel rage. You’re not giving into anything. You need to feel it, feel it in all its ugliness, and then let it out so you can let it go .” Patton explains vehemently, but Logan just shakes his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up on his face. 

“I can’t.” 

The illusion of stability is cracking between both of them, a mirror breaking beneath their feet. Patton is scared no one will be left to gather the remains. 

“I–” Logan stops at this, running a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes wet and blurry and devastating. “I don’t want to lose control.”

Patton sees him. He understands him. He sees his own terrified reflection in Logan’s glasses as he crosses his arms as if he could fold in on himself until he disappears. 

“Please.” He moves towards him, towards his folded body, and slowly places his soft hands on his shoulders. “You need to.”

Logan meets his eyes, his arms trembling as he uncrosses them. Finally, finally , he pushes Patton aside, as if he doesn’t want to hurt him. The anger burns in his eyes, but not flaming orange. No, this anger was deep, sad, blue. He takes a deep breath, turning away. He clenches and unclenches his fists. He stares at the bin of broken promises and sharp, temporary relief. 

Then, he screams.

-

Logan doesn’t want Patton to be there at first. 

He doesn’t want him to see his breakdown, the emotion more than he’s ever shown any of the Sides. He hasn’t even shown himself this level of vulnerability. 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you! ” He screams again, punching a pillow, his voice choked and raw. He doesn’t know whether it's aimed at Roman, Virgil, Thomas, or him.

He picks up the bin, the bin filled to the brim with schedules and lists Thomas promised to do. With a strangled cry, he throws it at the bedroom dresser. The mirror shatters, leaving him alone with thousands of glinting silver eyes staring up at him from the floor.

He wonders whether he has become nothing but an echo of himself, leaving behind ash and rage. It burns in his eyes, through his heart and legs and chest. He smashes and screams and hits and cries. But this, this is Logan’s pain. Not his , not Thomas’s. 

Logan’s .

He takes a textbook and throws it against the wall, the noise loud and disruptive. He hates it almost as much as he hates everything right now. The emotion is overwhelming, god , it’s so, so overwhelming. His hands tremble as he punches the wall.

“I– I wanna kill you all.” He sobs. “Do you have any fucking idea how you made me feel? How you made me feel for years ? I was nothing to you. I did everything for you. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

He grips his hair, his eyes closed tightly as he sinks to his knees. He can’t see Patton anymore, only the blurry image of his bed, of furniture trashed around him, of sticky notes ripped apart like snowflakes plastered to his skin. 

“I just– I just wanted you to listen.” 

He cries for hours, or minutes, or seconds, but Logan can’t tell. He just knows he stays pressed against his bed, his head buried in his knees for a long time. He’s so, so angry. 

Then, after an eternity, he feels Patton sit down next to him. His presence is comforting, until he realizes he had seen his entire meltdown. Logan wants to cry again. Instinctively he tries to wipe his tears away, but he remembers. 

Let it out, and let it go.

He lets the tears fall.

Loneliness had always been his crutch, a grave and an embrace that kept him company, tucked away behind numbers and data. Patton was right. It did feel like he had broken out of his casket. Losing control wasn’t so bad when it was his own anger– and he realizes with a start, that he hadn’t heard his voice the entire time he was breaking down. 

He finally raises his head, the unbearable weight that he had been carrying for years suddenly lighter. Patton is watching him closely, but with understanding, rather than malice. Logan is startled to see tears in his eyes too. He wipes his face, feeling his heartbeat slow, and his breathing grow steadier. After another silence, he asks seemingly no one, his face turned to the mess in front of them. 

“Does it ever get better?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Patton’s face looks rueful, his gold frames sparkling in the shadows of Logan’s room. He feels an overwhelming swell of gratitude for the man sitting beside him, who had witnessed him at his worst, who hadn’t touched him or tried any sweet words, which would have made his skin crawl with fury. 

Instead, he looks down at his hands, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

Logan knows. He knew, he has known that they were all falling apart. Thomas was heading down a horrible path, and he didn’t know whether he could keep him out for another month, even with letting go of all of his own pent-up anger. And yet…

“We’ll find out together.”

The words pass over his lips, determined. Patton turns to him, his eyes wide. It morphs into a small smile, and he pushes himself up, standing above him. 

“Yeah. We will.” 

There’s one more thing though…the thorn is still twisting at his side. Logan remembers how he had screamed so hatefully, how he genuinely wished Roman was dead. He never wants to feel like that again, but for that to happen, he needed closure.

“I need to apologize to Roman. And Virgil…I think I gave them both a scare.” He chuckles, his brow furrowing in worry. 

“You don’t owe it to them,” Patton tilts his head, but Logan can see that he was hoping he would say that. 

“I do. I’ve been too angry at Roman for a long, long time. I think I’ve just been repressing it. I don’t want to hurt him again.”

Patton nods once, outstretching his hand to Logan. “Come on then, we won’t let that happen.” 

He allows one smile to pass his face, taking a look backward at his room. The smashed furniture, ripped books, and tears staining his sheets, chains hanging off the bed frame. He knows that everything will be perfect the next time he enters. It always is. 

But he isn’t. He never has been. As he looks back at Patton and his hand outstretched, it almost feels like a sincere apology. It almost feels like a fresh start. 

He exhales, smoothing his hair back. “Thank you, Patton.”

Patton’s eyes are a deep ocean of possibilities and sunlight. He smiles, like they had just fit two puzzle pieces together, not perfectly, never perfectly, but like a broken promise, holding each other up after being shattered. “Anytime.”

Logan knows the problem isn’t going away, if it ever does. But as he steps closer to the doorknob, his hand waving over the paint and letting the blue star glow, he knows that for once, he might be able to let it out and let it go, one day at a time. 

[delimeful]

Defender

warnings: bickering, theoretical violence, that's basically it this one's fluffy

Part 8 of MC AU!

-

“And you’re sure that this will prevent the village’s valiant defender from attacking Anxiety on sight?” Roman asked, visibly concerned. “Absolutely sure that there won’t be hitting or striking or slaying of any variety?”

Logan disliked repeating himself, and this would be the third time he had done so, hence his rapidly waning patience. “Yes, Roman. I’ve been researching this exact matter for weeks, and I’m very confident that my alterations to the iron golem’s runic carvings will prevent it from targeting Anxiety. I had to perform a similar adjustment for my own person when first creating the golem, as well.”

“Alright, alright,” Roman relented, though when Logan turned away, he could see the adventurer shoot the iron golem a wary look. “I’m just a mite concerned for Tall, Dark, and Spooky, that’s all. I mean, have you seen how bony that guy is? A single punch would practically bowl him over!”

“I think you’re underestimating him,” Logan replied, absently hoping that Roman didn’t notice the way he was triple-checking the images in his reference book and the runes painstakingly carved into the iron golem’s armor. “Endermen are far more durable and far more dangerous than they look.”

A brief stretch of silence, and then he paused his work again to lift his head and elaborate: “Not that Anxiety is a danger to us.”

“Pat’s got us well-trained, huh,” Roman mused, as though he hadn’t just been fretting over the enderman in question. “I swear, one day he’ll bring the Ender Dragon home, and we’ll all just have to adapt to it just to make the guy happy.”

“Please do not speak that into existence,” Logan replied dryly, brushing away some stray metal shavings as he stepped back from the village’s golem to look over his work. “I have no doubt he would be the only one even capable of such a thing.”

Roman hummed in agreement, coming to stand by his side. They surveyed the updated runes together for a long moment.

“And this won’t prevent it from realizing that other endermen are still potential threats?” Roman asked, an eyebrow raised at the complex interwoven symbols. “That’s a pretty specific condition to set for a construct, Specs.”

“It is,” Logan allowed. “Luckily, I am an exceedingly skilled witch.”

The brag earned him a snort and an eyeroll, both gestures a far cry from the wariness that had marked the beginning of their strange enemies-turned-friends dynamic.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop pestering you,” Roman said, lifting his hands up in a gesture of faux-innocence. “But if Anxiety gets punched into next week by one of those metal tree trunks your golem calls arms, I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

Logan sighed, the noise coming out far fonder than he wanted it to. “Very well. Though, I will remind you how many times you’ve gotten to exercise that particular right over the course of our friendship.”

He wasn’t in the habit of being wrong, especially because letting Roman say ‘I told you so’ to him would be galling beyond belief.

Roman grumbled wordlessly for a moment, before turning on his heel to lead the way back towards the small clearing near Patton’s house. “Regardless, I maintain the right! One of these days, your hubris will be your undoing, and on that day, my powerful intuition and sense for danger will triumph!”

The adventurer accentuated this particular claim by immediately getting his boot caught in a stray pumpkin vine, tripping, and nearly eating dirt.

“Doubtful,” Logan replied with poorly-concealed smugness, preoccupied with carefully replacing the golem’s lodestone and observing it shuffle back into awareness. He paid no mind to the indignant muttered complaints growing fainter behind him.

Once he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and all the inscribed runes were still properly lit up, he turned to follow Roman, beckoning to the golem to follow.

Now came for the nerve-wracking part: ensuring that the runic alterations would take proper effect, something that could only be done by introducing the two.

It was a relatively short walk to the clearing, and once they were close, Roman picked up his pace to sprint ahead and let Patton and Anxiety know that the first test of Logan’s handiwork was about to begin. Since the golem was relatively slow unless agitated, Logan remained behind, walking slowly at its side to keep it on course.

By the time they reached the clearing, everyone was prepared. In Anxiety’s case, perhaps even over-prepared, going by the characteristic ozone scent that cropped up whenever the enderman teleported too many times in a small space. Roman’s apprehension must have unsettled him as well— they did call him Anxiety for a reason, after all.

Concealing a sigh, Logan stepped forward into the clearing and to the side to make way for the construct trailing behind him, clearing his throat as though everyone’s gazes weren’t already locked on his approach. “Anxiety, our iron golem is right behind me. If it locks onto you and begins to move quickly, teleporting a chunk away should be far enough for it to calm down. It won’t harm any of us, as I’ve said before.”

There was an otherworldly hum of acknowledgement, and he noted that Anxiety had settled in front of Patton, rather than behind. By now, everyone had become well-adjusted to making sure to avoid eye contact with their easily-agitated friend, but usually, Anxiety still showed a clear preference for teleporting directly behind any one of them.

(Personally, Logan believed it was at least in part due to the way Roman would always shriek in startlement when Anxiety appeared behind him. Their unusual enderman was difficult to parse at times, but his penchant for mischief wasn’t particularly hard to pick up on.)

This test must have had him truly on edge. Logan turned to watch the golem lumber into the clearing, keeping his own posture forcibly relaxed as he mentally prepared to do damage control if this little experiment failed.

The iron golem drew to a stop a few steps in, its field of vision sweeping over all of them, and the moment stretched. It then made a grinding stone-on-stone rumble inquisitively, as though curious as to why all of them were so tense.

The sigh of relief was audible, even in Anxiety’s warped voice. Logan adjusted his glasses and only barely refrained from flaunting his success over Roman in the name of keeping the current peace. “Anxiety, you should be safe to approach, and I encourage you to do so. If you’re able to interact at close range with the iron golem, that should confirm that each and every one of the adjustments have set in properly.”

Anxiety warbled, teleporting back and forth a few blocks as he often did while nervous, and Patton reached out to give him a supportive pat on the arm.

“This is the one who was looking out for me before I met you,” he told Anxiety, offering an encouraging smile. “I think you two will get along well!”

Anxiety was quiet for a moment, and then walked forward on spindly legs, approaching the guardian with all due tentativeness. The iron golem tilted its head upwards to look at the enderman, making another rumble as it swung its arms back and forth absently, entirely unconcerned with what would normally be a serious enemy to it.

Anxiety ‘vrrp’-d back at the golem, circling around it in an unsteady circle, like a bee around a flower. The golem turned in a slow rotation to follow the enderman’s movement, still languid and unhurried. It painted a rather cute picture, if Logan was honest.

Patton clapped his hands together in glee, happy that they’d managed a successful interaction. Somehow, Logan was reminded of the first time he’d introduced his familiar to Patton’s pet cat. The felines’ resulting tolerance of each other had earned a similar reaction.

“There we have it,” he concluded, satisfied with a job well done. “Anxiety is no longer at any risk from the town’s guardian.”

Roman sidled up next to him, apparently content to ignore Logan’s somewhat self-satisfactory tone. “You know, if you’d told me this was what I’d be helping with a month ago, I wouldn’t have believed you for love or diamonds.”

“Yes, well, I could have said much the same at many points over my acquaintanceship with Patton,” Logan replied, watching as the iron golem slowly offered Anxiety a poppy, as though confused as to why the enderman was still persistently bobbing around it. Anxiety seemed immediately charmed by the gesture. “By now, I suspect I’m growing rather used to it.”

“At least I handled our newest friend better than our first meeting, hm?” Roman said wryly, and Logan exchanged an amused look with him. “Maybe I’m getting used to it, too.”

A few yards away, Patton was still practically jumping for joy. He turned to the two of them, beaming. “Now we can introduce Anxiety to the rest of the village!”

The look they exchanged this time was far more alarmed. “Patton, I’m not so sure that’s the best idea…”

Across the clearing, the iron golem tilted its head curiously as the enderman next to it abruptly teleported a fair few blocks away to hide behind a tree.

Huh. Seemed the latest and strangest addition to the village was shy.

[edupunkn00b]

Fanfic Reblog Party 🥳

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

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

Let’s get this party started!

[manybrokenquills]

someone save me I'm slipping back into the clutch of sander sides

[anxiousandindenial]

I hopped on a very very old train. I turned the Sanders Sides into SCPs. These are all made up by me. I will be releasing their 'files' one by one, each week, for the next few weeks. Understand that these are not nor will they likely ever be part of the official SCP database, as hey are based on characters from another source, and draw pretty heavily. If anyone makes art of this, I will love you forever, until the day that I die and go to Hell and beyond.

First up, we have the wonderful Logan Sanders, who is now:

Item #: SCP-18175 (L.O.G.A.N.)

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-18175 is to be contained within a standard humanoid containment chamber at Site-████. The chamber is to be equipped with reinforced steel walls and an observation window. Security personnel are to monitor SCP-18175 at all times via closed-circuit cameras.

SCP-18175's containment procedures require Dr. ███████ to enter the containment chamber at least once per hour for routine checks and interaction. In the event of SCP-18175 becoming agitated, security personnel are to engage in de-escalation protocols until the anomaly returns to a calm state.

Under no circumstances is SCP-18175 to interact with █████ █████. All personnel must adhere to this protocol strictly.

Description: SCP-18175 is a robotic entity resembling ██████████ composed of unidentified metal-like plates. When calm, the gaps between these plates emit a dark blue glow, while its ocular sensors emit a similar hue. However, when agitated, the glow transitions to an intense orange, and SCP-18175 displays aggressive behavior towards any nearby individuals.

The significance of the designation "L.O.G.A.N." remains uncertain, though it appears to hold emotional significance for the anomaly. Further research is required to elucidate its meaning.

SCP-18175 exhibits technopathic abilities, allowing it to █████████ ████ ███ ██████████ ██████████ ███████ ██████ ███ ████████. The entity becomes increasingly agitated when left unattended for extended periods, with a threshold of approximately three days before agitation manifests.

The composition beneath SCP-18175's metal plates remains unknown, as attempts to investigate its internal structure have been unsuccessful.

SCP-18175 was recovered on ██/██/████ from ██████ City. Its origin and potential connections to other anomalies, including SCP ██ , warrant further investigation.

Update: Following continued interviews conducted by Dr. ███████, SCP-18175 disclosed the meaning behind its designation. "L.O.G.A.N." serves as an acronym for "Lethal Operations Guardian And Nemesis."

Update: Due to repeated attempts by SCP-18175 to access █████ ██ ███████, containment protocols have been revised to ensure spatial separation between the anomaly and the restricted files.

Update: Dr. ███████ has proposed the hypothesis that SCP-18175 may consist of two distinct anomalies, designated SCP-18175-1 and SCP-18175-2. SCP-18175-1, identified as L.O.G.A.N., exhibits docile behavior, whereas SCP-18175-2, which we have classified as The Warbot, manifests as an aggressive antagonist triggered by SCP-18175-1's emotional state. Notably, SCP-18175-1 appears to lack awareness of SCP-18175-2's actions.

Update: Following multiple incidents involving SCP-18175-2's hostile behavior, Dr. ███████ has recommended termination of SCP-18175.

Update: SCP-18175 has evaded containment, with Dr. ███████ present during its disappearance. Dr. ███████ has declined to provide further information regarding the incident. Investigations into the anomaly's whereabouts are ongoing.

@thatsthat24

[caitcat04]

Sanders sides fans!! Are you still out there??

I just remembered a fic that I would love help finding pls! It's like a period piece where Thomas is a historian and moves into an old house and meets all the sides as ghosts. Then, he pieces together their life stories as he talks to each ghost and eventually manages to republish the stories of their lives and set their souls free.

I remember some vague details:

It had all 6 sides

Roman was an artist/poet but was very ill

Logan was his doctor

They were in looooveee

Patton and Virgil ended up together which was super cutee

Its them retelling the stories of their deaths so its quite sad.

They all find each other again in ghost form, it's so cute!

Idk who the author was but I think I read it on ao3?? If u could help that'd be so great thank u!!

[pas-de-duex]

The Black Swan

Hey everybody! This is my first Sanders Sides fanfiction. It’s Intrulogical (Remus x Logan) and based off of the ballet (well… and the Barbie movie…) Swan Lake! Fair warning, this fic will have a LOT of swearing, so if you don’t like it, don’t read it! I hope those who do read it, enjoy!

Prologue:

“You can’t catch us Remus!” Roman and Patton laughed as they ran away from Remus, who was struggling to catch up.

“Wait! Please! Ro-“ He cried, deep, heaving breaths between each word.

Roman stuck out his tongue as he and Patton disappeared into the woods. Remus raced towards them, but was unable to catch up. He stopped just outside the woods, catching his breath as tears began to form in his eyes.

Why did he always have to play the bad guy? He didn’t mind so much but, Patton and Roman always seemed to leave him behind.

“We’re heroes! It’s our job to stop the bad guy! Or, at the very least get him lost!”

That’s what they always said when Wolfgang asked why they left the (slightly) younger prince behind.

Remus hated being left behind.

Remus looked around, trying to see which way his brother and their friend went. He saw several broken branches to his left. He followed the trail of broken branches, scattered leaves, and upturned earth until he eventually reached a clearing. Remus stopped in his tracks, taking in the beauty of the area around him.

The trees seemed to stop, leading way to large piles of stones that seemed to glitter in the sunlight. Fireflies and moths seemed to dance in the air, as odd looking animals gathered around a shining lake.

Remus took a small step forward, as all the wildlife seemed to turn his way. He took a few more steps towards the lake, and laughed with glee as the fireflies and moths started to swarm around him. The odd looking animals slowly started to approach him as he moved closer to the lake, dancing to music only he seemed to hear. Eventually, some of the squirrels and smaller animals began to climb up him, joining him in his strange dance.

After a few moments, Remus flopped to the ground, still laughing, still covered in odd looking creatures.

“Oh thank you, thank you little friends! You’ve made me feel… better.”

He took a long breath and continued to watch as the fireflies and moths swirled around him. He eventually turned and watched a small purple spider crawl close to the lake. He grew worried, and scooped the poor thing up before it could get too close to the water.

“Careful little guy, I don’t…”

His sentence was interrupted by a large, grey owl descending from the sky. The air seemed to be sucked out of the clearing as Remus watched most of the animals run and hide. He cradled the small spider close to his chest as he felt a snake start to slither up his back. The owl seems to circle a few times, before eventually landing right in front of Remus.

“Well well well, what do we have here? A little human?”

The snake, now coiled around Remus’s right shoulder, hissed as a bright light emitted from where the owl stood. Remus closed his eyes, and when he opened them back up, before him stood an elderly man.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my woods?”

“I-I-“

“Speak up boy!”

The snake let out it a final hiss before launching himself at the man. The old man caught the snake and started to squeeze him in his fist.

“Hey! Let him go!” Remus gently let the spider go, and launched himself at the old man. He managed to knock him into the lake, causing him to release the small snake, who slithered towards the purple spider.

The old man stood up, shaking water from himself. He locked eyes with Remus, then held out his hand and chanted something Remus didn’t understand.

That’s when the pain started.

Remus doubled over, clutching his stomach. His screams filled the air. He caught sight of his snake friend, who seemed to be looking away with grief. He felt his limbs twist and shocks run up and down his body. When the pain subsided, he was still on the ground, trembling in fear.

The old man laughed. “There. Maybe that will teach you some respect.”

[dotemakesthings]

forgotten but not gone

(please be gentle, y’all, this is the first public fic I’ve posted since basically… ever)

inspired by/remix of the cursed light by datfearlessfangirl

okay, so.

the first Split was relatively harmless, believe it or not. it separated out Remus and Roman, sure, but the sides all still lived together and cared about each other.

as a teen/young adult, the sides were in cutesy little pairs.

Janus and Roman, the theater gays.

Virgil and Logan, the couple that considers sitting silently in a room together with headphones on a romantic activity.

and Remus and Patton, the chaotic powerhouses who love nothing more than making messes in the kitchen and screaming I-love-you’s from across the house.

but then

the second split.

it was a crisis of morality and identity on Thomas’s part

so intense that it ripped the mindscape in two

the “acceptable” sides simply got their memories wiped, starting from scratch

while the dark sides were locked away and hurt.

now, neither side knew about the others and the effect it had on them

so when the light sides saw a closet oozing with Bad Feelings, they felt it best to investigate for the good of Thomas

and they were greeted with monsters.

Remus, screaming out horrific imagery and banging his head raw and bloody against the wall

Virgil, spiraling into such a bad panic attack that the shadows around him were lashing out without him realizing

and Janus, fangs and all six arms out, who uncontrollably lied about how they were useless here, how they weren’t wanted, they needed to get out, ssssstupid little sides

the lights screamed

and ran out

the darks chased them

because, here’s the thing

imagine you have known someone all your life. you know their tics, what makes them happy

and you’re not afraid of what they’re like when they’re in distress, because you know what to expect. and you know you’re safe with them.

now. imagine meeting someone for the first time on your absolute worst day.

that’s what happened to the darks.

the Patton of before would have rushed to Remus, gently guiding him away from the wall and crooning soothing nonsense to drown out his babble about death and gore and being alone alone alone

the Roman of before would have nodded and taken none of what Janus was saying at face value, cradling Janus’s hands in his own and humming a quiet tune 

and the Logan of before would have tapped out a slow, calm rhythm next to Virgil until he could breathe and handle touch again

but they didn’t know any of that anymore.

all they saw were monsters.

and all the dark sides saw were their friends, family, lovers there when they needed help. 

the light sides fled back to the upper mindscape 

and the darks slammed into the barrier

screaming and clawing at the invisible wall

for someone to help

for their family to look at them

for someone to explain what was going on

and the light sides closed and locked the door with a sigh of shaky relief.

now, the light sides develop something of an ingrained bad reaction to the darks due to this colossally bad first impression.

Patton: disgust, fear, thin veneer of trying to be polite while getting them to leave the vicinity as soon as possible

Logan: coldness, indifference. not cruelty but no warmth or allowances

Roman: fear masked by anger and intense protectiveness.

and the dark sides all deal with the upheaval, betrayal, and pain in different ways.

Virgil: depressed, afraid, tends to lash out at the slightest provocation. goes from snarky to mean.

Janus: gives up and pretends everything is fine. sees no point in hurting himself to get something back that can't be replaced or repaired. covers heartbreak with snark. can't quite stop himself from flirting with Roman but pretends it's just manipulation. focuses just on Thomas and what's best for him, ignoring all else.

Remus: wears his rotting heart on his sleeve. tries the hardest to get Patton back and is the least equipped to do so. isn't exactly trying to keep the others' spirits up, but more just doesn't lose hope that they can somehow fix this. 

the dark sides can only come to the main mindscape at all at night at first.

the barrier stops them any other time

it’s Remus who finds out first, mindlessly banging his head against the barrier to pass the time only to fall flat on his face when it fizzles out

and they all slowly start sneaking in at night to see the home that they were thrown out of

and slowly, the lights start having odd little incidents

nothing in person, at first.

Roman: he finds something in progress and abandoned at the border between the imagination halves that he and Remus both worked on. he can't figure out why it looks so recent even though he can’t remember ever getting along with his brother this well.

Patton: he's having a Sad Night. he thinks he's hiding it well, but someone (Virgil) notices and leaves him cookies that are one of his favorites. not a secret recipe, just ones he likes. there's a little note saying that sometimes it's okay to have a second cookie. Patton can't figure out who would know him this well.

Logan: he’s dealing with an absolute menace of a meeting. he gets back to his room, seething all the way, to see a plain porcelain plate with an unsigned note saying “break me all you want, nerd! I’ll put myself back together!”. he experimentally drops it from a few feet up. it shatters with a very satisfying crack and then, a few seconds later, reassembles itself in his hand. he has a grand old time shattering the plate against the wall again and again until his rage has subsided to a manageable level. he can’t figure out who would come up with an idea like this.

and then there start being little middle-of-the-night interactions. because for some reason, the light sides have a much harder time falling asleep nowadays.

Virgil looks over Roman’s shoulder as he watches a Disney movie in the living room at three AM to try and fall asleep. Anxiety offers a teasing insult to the protagonist. Roman jumps out of his skin, at first threatening to stab him, but then lets him tentatively settle in on the counter behind him. they roast the movie together, gradually picking up steam until Roman actually laughs at something Anxiety says. they both freeze and stare at each other for a heartbeat until Roman sinks out without a word.

Patton finds himself tucked into bed after a too-long day sorting through Thomas' emotional responses. when he wakes up, there's a somehow still steaming cup of sweet herbal tea that tastes like a snickerdoodle. he vaguely remembers a soft voice hissing at him that he needs to pay more attention to his own needs.

Logan is reading philosophy textbooks and muttering to himself out loud. Janus offers a quiet critique. they have a heartbeat of wonderful discussion before Logan "remembers" himself and shuts it down.

eventually, through all this, their memories start coming back. it’s triggered slowly through their platonic interactions with their friends, and then all at once by their romantic partners.

(because the love of friends is just as impactful and important as the love of a partner)

Patton: 

Patton is sad and frustrated, muttering to himself and pacing in the kitchen.

someone walks in and he immediately stops and snaps into happy pappy Patton mode. “Oh hey, kiddo-“

it's Remus, who just cocks his head and says "you know you don't have to do that with me, right?"

and after some protesting on Morality’s part

he ends up goading Patton into a very cathartic expression of anger, fear, and frustration, and helps him sort it out. 

at some point, Remus has shifted to holding Patton in a loose embrace as Patton waves his hands and rants and sobs.

Patton doesn’t realize that he burrows deeper into Remus’ arms every time he wiggles.

to the point that he’s turned sideways in Remus’ lap, with one arm curled around him and the other one free to gesture.

and then when it’s all over, they’re talked out, and it’s almost sunrise, Remus reluctantly starts to tear himself away. 

and Patton, who quite suddenly cannot bear the thought of Remus letting him go, holds on

Logan: 

panic attacks? Logan? certainly not. he doesn’t get those.

so when he finds himself gasping for air, feeling like his chest is on fire, and locked into his worst thoughts, he doesn’t know what to do

because he knows how to treat panic attacks

but this isn’t one. definitely

and even if it was, for some reason all his knowledge on how to treat them is slipping from his mind no matter how hard he tries to reach from it

you have to breathe? somehow? but he can’t breathe, can’t think

and somehow through it, he hears a raspy voice

counting steadily and quietly

and he realizes that there’s a stim toy placed in his hands that he’s wringing.

and it looks familiar, but he knows he’s never seen it before

and there’s soft, flowy music playing from a Bluetooth speaker next to him

and that feels familiar too

and without quite knowing why, only having a bone-deep certainty that it’ll help, he slumps over into the person sitting next to him

smells lavender and laundry detergent

feels soft fabric under his cheek

and suddenly everything snaps into place

oh

of course

why does he feel so safe? because he’s with the safest person in the world.

Roman: 

okay so

Roman alternates between being scared of Deceit and feeling extremely attracted to him

this, naturally, freaks Roman out

and he expresses this by getting more and more aggressive towards Janus

at some point, he panics and attacks Deceit

Deceit freezes with Roman’s sword to his throat. they stare at each other

before Janus sinks out

a day or so later, he comes back

all six hands up, ungloved, and open to show that he means no harm

“You win.”

“… What?” says Roman.

“You. Win. I’m tired of fighting you. Grant me one last request and you’ll never have to see me again.”

some buried part of Roman is conflicted. but his conscious self jumps at the opportunity. “What do you want, snake?”

“Dance with me.”

“… What.”

“Grant me the honor of one dance, my prince, and I’ll leave. You’ll never have to deal with my presence again.”

And Roman, wary of some trap but eager to be rid of the beautiful confusing disgusting snake, agrees.

They rise up in an elegantly decorated ballroom

dressed in a fancy suit (Roman) and an elegant ballgown (Deceit)

and they dance

at first, stilted and formal

keeping to the steps and no more

but then Janus seems to come to some internal conclusion

and folds himself in close to Roman

before spinning outwards, skirt swirling, and coming back in

and somehow, without Roman quite knowing why, they’re dancing.

flourishes, leaning into each other, Roman even lifting Deceit into the air at one point

and his heart keeps pinging strangely

aching

(familiar, this is familiar, you’ve done this before)

but eventually, the dance has to end

and they both come to a stop as the song finishes, panting heavily

Janus is smiling through his heavy breaths

and Roman finds he is too

but Janus’ smile cracks and falls and he steps back.

“Well,” he says. “That was the deal.”

and he lifts Roman’s hand, which somehow has his sword in it although it didn’t a second before, so that the blade is at his throat

just like the night before

“One quick cut ought to do it.”

Self Preservation exposes his throat to his beloved. 

because he doesn't want to hurt Roman. 

because this dance was his last selfish act before he gives up

one last moment to remember his prince by

and Roman pauses with his sword at Janus’ throat.

because Roman can't figure out why Janus, the evil self serving snake, wouldn't take an opportunity to hurt him to save himself

why he asked for this dance at all

why his arms around him felt like home

and all of a sudden

the memories he’s been denying all this time hit him like a truck

and he remembers

(after all that, Roman congratulates Janus on his idea to bring his memories back by dancing together)

(Janus smiles at him and changes the subject)

the barrier weakens the more that the lights feel comfortable around the darks.

the more that Thomas feels comfortable around them.

by the time everyone’s memory is back, it’s like it was never there at all.

[annaizscribbling]

Just out of reach doodle number like 30 at this point. I need to make a masterlist for all my fanfics and stuff at some point

this is a silly metaphor doodle for this horror ts fic of my own.

Find more art under the Just out of reach tag or my art tag

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Escapism in Yellow (MERRY CHRISTMAS @remuspenus)

[krislin]

Monster Sides

A Sanders Sides Monster AU fic

Summary:

In a dark forest, some distance away from the capital, but right outside a small village, lived six individuals.

These six were seen as cursed, as monsters.

But those in the forest saw them as a part of nature, maybe even guardians.

These six were a close family, living together and helping each other.

Word Count: 4590

The land of the large kingdom was extraordinary. The meadows were a beautiful green, the skies a bright blue, and the weather was usually at its best. Gentle winds blew over. The grass and leaves dancing softly alongside it. The forests around in the kingdom were a significant source of materials for the city, towns, and villages. All from herbs, to food, and to wood could be gathered in these gatherings of flora.

But there was one forest in the kingdom that none dared to even approach. 

Next to a small village, a fair distance away from the capital of the kingdom, was a large, gloomy forest. Objectively, one would say it looked no different from any other forests in the territory of the kingdom, but for the people, it was a cursed and dangerous place.

After centuries of living next to that forest, people had come to learn to never step inside, or even close to it. It didn't even take long after the village was first established that they found out something dangerous resided in the darkness between the large, old trees. 

Or not just something.

Deep in the forest stood a large and old, almost run-down, mansion. But no human lived inside.

Or preferably said, no full human.

All the creatures belonging to the forest knew who they were, and what they were. But they all lived in harmony.

Because in the mansion lived six men. All hybrids that made them only half human.

Many would see them as monsters, but the fauna saw them as much of a part of nature as themselves. Maybe even more. The nature of the forest would sometimes even call them the guardians of their home.

Outside the mansion laid a small lake. Next to the lake was one of the six. The man had bright brown hair and round gray glasses on his face. As a silhouette, he would have the appearance of a normal human, but in the light, one would immediately take their words back. His skin was a slight shade of green, and clearly looking moist. The man smiled brightly as he skipped alongside the lake side. His leaps were longer and higher than possible for the normal human. 

Because this is Patton. The frog hybrid of the mansion.

Patton continued to hum and skip his way back towards the mansion. His beams were as bright as he was known for every time he saw an animal or a pretty plant close by. Even if he knew their domain well, it always made his day to see the forest in such a pretty state.

The sound of a hysterical cackle came from the trees next to him, but it didn't alert the man. Patton only smiled widely as he stopped to turn in the direction. "Remus! Back already?" he beamed as he waved towards the rustling bushes closing in.

Through the bushes stretched a dark green tentacles, placing itself on the ground to drag its core forwards. "Heya, Croakie!" the man, Remus, grinned when through the plants. The man had the upper body of a human with dark brown hair with a silver highlight on his bangs. But his lower body was of just dark green tentacles with black dots on the top. 

This is Remus. The octopus hybrid of the mansion.

"You should have seen those brats!" Remus told, laughing hysterically as he dragged his tentacles to approach the other. "They had the audacity to make a dare to approach our territory! But that just made the day so much better!" he laughed, as he held his right arm to the side. He held his hand open, and suddenly green sparkles sparkled over his palm, and his morning star fell into his hold. "It's been far too long since I got to play with the humans!"

"Now, now, kiddo. I know they're humans, but don't be too harsh on them. Especially if they were kids," Patton softly scolded the other. But even with his hands on his hips, there was still a slight amused smile on his face. Patton may ever be the optimist, friendly, and peaceful one, but even he had the disliking to the human species.

Snickers filled the air around them as Remus explained the humorous scene to Patton. They had never hurt any humans, unless necessary. They only wanted the selfish species to stay away from their territory and those residing in it; them, the animals, and all the plants.

The sound of wing beats reached them through the silent air, making the two turn to see the third of the six flying in for a landing. Patton beamed seeing the man, jumping high in joy as he landed. "Logan!" he beamed, leaping to immediately stand next to him. "Everyone's back early! This is great!"

This one is Logan. The owl hybrid of the mansion.

"Indeed," Logan answered, a tiny smile of joy visible. He tucked his dark brown feathered wings into his back, then turned to the octopus hybrid. "It would seem your scare has given us the boost for a peaceful day today."

"Of course!" Remus beamed at the praise hidden behind the sentence. A hand was proudly placed to his chest, his weapon disappearing with a green light. "But as much as I wished to play with them more, Hoarder and I have something to finish."

Logan's black hair blew to the passing wind as he narrowed his eyes at the other. "If this is that creation competition you are talking about, I do hope you tend to mend what you break and make sure he doesn't hoard more than he already has."

"Hey!" an offended yell came from the mansion. They all turned, and they all saw a man with red hair and red dragon wings and tail come flying over. "I am only keeping the necessary things in life in our home. Thank you very much!" The man landed down by the group, but he was mostly throwing Remus a glare, which earned a grin back.

This man is Roman. The dragon hybrid of the mansion.

A deep sigh left Logan, and Roman turned to the owl hybrid to see the man shaking his head. "The pile of unnecessary equipment and object in your hoarding room says otherwise, I believe." Logan turned his eyes to look at the dragon hybrid through his black glasses. The talons of his hand were raised to adjust the glasses properly back on his nose again. "But as long as it doesn't pile up outside that room, do as you please."

"Great!" Roman beamed, but shook his head and coughed into his fist of clawed hand. "I mean-. Like it will ever overfill. There's so much room left inside! I can still fly inside, you know!"

"Now, now, do not lie," another man's voice came from behind, a slight hiss in his speech. Everyone turned around to see a man with a bright yellow snake lower body slithering towards them from the mansion. The man's snake tongue flicked out, but looking rather amused as he slithered closer. The left side of his face had greenish-yellow scales which almost gleamed in the light, and on top of his brown hair laid a black fedora with a yellow ribbon around the base. "You know lying to us won't do."

This is Janus. The snake hybrid of the mansion.

Roman rolled his eyes at the fifth man of the group as he stopped by them. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Slithering Scales," the man scoffed out, but gave out a small smile as he nudged the yellow snake hybrid with his elbow. But a small scoff them came from him, and his red eyes glanced between Janus and Patton. "But you two alright to be out? Winter's approaching, you know."

"Ever the overprotective hoarder you are," Janus commented as he rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile as he shook his head. "We are fine. The season is yet to properly begin. We cold-bloods have survived multiple winter already, you know."

"Yeah!" Patton beamed, leaping around them all. "Your fire and my strange, dark son's clothes and blankets really help!"

Roman gave out a pleased smile at the response, but he did give out a pout at Janus's comment. As part dragon, of course he would be protective of his hoard. And his main, and most precious, treasure he had in said hoard was his family. "Great to hear, Padre," he smiled at Patton, but turned to glance back at the mansion. "Speaking of him, where is he?"

"He was resting in his web the last time I saw him," Janus shrugged as he answered the other. "I had him rest after creating a bit too much silk for his crocheting and knitting later. He doesn't eat enough for the silk production he's doing."

"My poor kiddo!" Patton immediately spoke out in horror and concern. The man made a giant leap towards the mansion, but the sound of skittering had him stop.

Everyone glanced up the walls of the mansion. And out one of the top windows, something came out. "Hey, Snake Face, I have control of my own health, you know," the last of those calling the mansion their home said. The man had black hair and a black hoodie on, but his lower body was of a large spider body. Though his upper body wasn't fully human. The man had eight eyes, six fully purple and the last two human brown, and on each side of his mouth he had the fangs of a spider, which moved slightly as he spoke. And his lower body, his spider body, was large enough for someone to actually sit on his back, but mostly having to curl into themselves to not get hit by the eight legs as the man crawled around.

This is Virgil. The spider hybrid of the mansion.

Virgil crawled down the wall of the mansion, his spider legs letting him walk on any surface without troubles. He crawled down to step down on the grass, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at the snake hybrid. "And for your information, I had just stopped when you slithered in. I was just about to start crocheting, but you just had to barge in."

"Whatever you say, Spiderling," Janus responded, rolling his eyes, but throwing him a smile. "Just make sure to rest. You work too much when winter approaches. You're cold-blooded as well, so you need your rest, especially with the stress of the season."

A scoff left the spider hybrid, but he shook his head and let his arms fall down, his black clawed fingers having a few short silk threads dangling down and dancing to the breeze. "I'm the one making clothes and blankets, you know. So for now, I'm the warmest cold-blooded here."

The chirp of birds came as two magpies came flying down, landing on the back of the spider hybrid. The birds chirped happily up at them all, and they all smiled and greeted back with a nod. Virgil gave the two a smile, and he moved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Getting something out of the pocket, Virgil got out a small crochet blanket of his silk, handing it over to the two small birds.

"Here you go," Virgil spoke, smiling as he handed the birds the small blanket. "Stay safe and warm in your nest now. The cold's approaching soon." The magpies gave him joyful and thankful chirps, and the two grabbed the silk blanket and flew off into the forest. Virgil smiled as he watched them fly off, but turned to glance at the others again, also taking notice of the skies above turning dark. "Well, evening's coming, so I better get to my route while handing out what I got."

"Alright, stay safe, kiddo!" Patton beamed at the other, beaming brightly as Virgil went to crawl past them. "Let us know if you need anything, alright?"

"Of course, Popstar," Virgil responded, giving a salute over his shoulder as he headed for the trees behind. Suddenly the man stopped and turned around to face them again. "Oh, and I repaired all the stuff with holes in them," he informed them all, earning beams of delight in return. "That includes the plushies. They're all on my web, so get them whenever."

Cheers erupted from Patton, Remus, and Roman, while Janus and Logan smiled with a nod of appreciation. "You're awesome, Virge!" Roman beamed, eyes visibly sparkling with joy before he spun around to bolt into the mansion to fetch what Virgil had repaired for him.

Patton was not far behind the flying dragon, Remus quick to follow as well. Janus and Logan was left, chuckling alongside Virgil as they watched the others charge in with such energy. "Thank you, Virgil. It is much appreciated," Logan said with a smile at the spider. "But stay safe out. Remus most definitely has scared the humans away for today, but one never know when it comes to that species."

"Yes, yes, I know," Virgil answered, rolling his eyes. "No need to say that every time. I can take care of myself. My poison is paralyzing for a reason."

"Yes, Remus had you show so too many times," Janus agreed, snorting at the memories of the octopus hybrid constantly having Virgil paralyze some of his detached tentacles after regenerating new ones for fun. "Just make sure you don't freeze. The colder you get, the slower you get. And that means the longer in the cold you will be."

Virgil huffed in response, but gave no other answer as he turned to leave the place. Janus and Logan watched as the spider left into the forest, and the two turned to head into the mansion themselves. 

*************

Virgil silently hummed to himself as he crawled between trees and bushes. Each step his eight legs took made a tiny sound in the grass and leaves, and with the speed of his steps, his crawling always sounded like skittering. And many in the forest recognized that skittering.

Birds, squirrels, deer, and all the animals of the forest would glance up and approach him during his routes through their home. Virgil greeted them all with a small smile, and many animals came either leaping, running, or flying over. The day was turning dark, a time where most would go to lie down for the day, but seeing the hybrid being close, they'd always come over to greet him.

"Hey, guys," Virgil softly greeted. All the animals joyfully greeted back, and a soft chuckle left the hybrid as bunnies, squirrels, and birds came to rest on his spider back. "Hope you're all doing well. But since winter is approaching, I came to give you all new blankets."

The spider put his hands into his pocket, and out came a roll of blankets of his silk. All of the animals grew visibly joyful, and Virgil smiled, pleased to see them like it. He handed out blankets, one by one to the animals around him. All the deer got the larger blankets over them, the birds got the smallest to carry to their nests, and the squirrels and bunnies got the perfect size for them, or larger ones if Virgil knew they had a family. All the other animals with them got their blankets as well, and Virgil was happy as to how tight he rolled the blankets, seeing that it was good that he brought as many as he could.

Virgil lifted the last blanket in his hold to hand to another pair of birds, but the sudden harsh gust of a wind had it fly out of their hold. The birds chirped in dismay as the silk was blown away from them, and they watched it quickly disappear into the darkness with a distressed look.

"Oh, crap..." the spider muttered, seeing the blanket fly between all the trees and much farther away through his night vision. "That was my last one too..." The birds' chirps was low and short, both lowering down to the ground in sadness. "Hey, hey, it's alright," Virgil assured them, gently holding down his hands to them. Both birds glanced up at him, but jumped onto his palms for him to lift them up. Virgil held them up and guided them to his left front leg, letting them jump on to rest right by him. "Don't worry, I can quickly make a new one. It's all fine."

Questioning chirps came from the two, and Virgil gave a soft chuckle as he shook his head. He quickly reassured them once again, and he raised a clawed finger to his mouth and stretched out multiple silk threads, enough to make a thick enough thread to use.

"Won't take long. Don't worry," Virgil mumbled as he moved the thread to his left pointy finger, using his right one to drag out more silk from his mouth. Unlike normal spiders, Virgil created silk from his mouth, usually using his fangs to hold the thread still as he used his clawed fingers to crochet, knitt, or sew with. And his clawed fingers were able to make a small hook at the tip, which was what made him able to crochet, but for knitting and sewing, and outside all that, he usually kept his claws straight and pointy.

Virgil laid on the ground as he started. His legs, except the one the birds sat on, halfway tucked under his body to lie comfortably. Most of the animals had left to sleep for the approaching night, but some continued to stay around the spider, curled in their blanket as they peacefully watched the hybrid crochet another of his blankets.

The birds happily chirped as they watched him masterfully create their blanket, and Virgil smiled as he glanced to the side at them.

Unusual gusts of winds came to their hearing, and they glanced up at the dark night sky to see something red come flying over them. "Ah, there you are, Spider Nightful!" Roman was to speak as he beamed seeing them under him. The dragon flapped his wings to slowly lower down to the ground, careful of the trees' branches. But as he landed his feet down on the ground, he raised an eyebrow at the glare Virgil was throwing at him. "What?"

"Mind your wings, Flame Head. I'm crocheting here, and your gusts are not helping," Virgil scoffed, but returned to his crocheting, being close to finishing the small silk blanket for the two waiting birds.

"And why are you out here, working more in the middle of the cold night after not having had your meal after your last production?" Roman challenged the other, a protective glare thrown at him through narrowed eyes. "I am certain you have not eaten anything protein filled since you left. You know you'll grow weak if you're lacking that, Virgil! You can't go producing more silk without refilling yourself!"

Another scoff left the spider, and he finished off his blanket as he sent the other a glare. "Geez, never took you to be one to sound like Logan," he commented, but averted his gaze to give the blanket to the thankful birds. The birds gave thankful chirps and took off with their new blanket, and Virgil gave them a small smile before turning it into a sigh as he turned back to the dragon. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to stay in the mansion to keep up the fire for the others?"

"Logan can hold the fire up long enough until I return," Roman answered with a shrug, but stepped forwards to give Virgil a push in the direction of their home. "You're much later than normal, and you need my fire just as much as them! So off we go now, Night Crawl!"

"Alright, alright, Ro! Geez!" Virgil yelled, but sighed as he shook his head. "I know you're a hoarder, but keep it down, could you? You know I can defend myself if something would suddenly come."

"Whatever you say, V," was all Roman responded before grabbing the spider's wrist to drag him along with him. Virgil groaned as he was dragged by Roman, who power-walked through the forest. The dragon hybrid was dedicated on bringing the spider with him back home before the air grew too cold for the cold-blooded. Roman threw the other a glare after hearing the annoyed groan. "You have no right to do that, Emo Nightmare. Only one hoodie isn't good enough! You don't even have any of your blankets on you! What you have on isn't enough to keep you warm, and you know that!" Roman scolded, only receiving an annoyed deadpan in return, which he ignored as he faced forward again, all out on getting home. "This is why you need my fire!"

A snort came from the other, but he didn't speak out. He knew Roman was in his protective hoarder mode because of his longer than usual absence. And because of that, he knew it was futile to fight against it. He never fought against it, only showing his annoyance or teasing the other, whichever fit the situation best. 

It wasn't long until they came to the treeline ending by their mansion. Stepping through the last bushes, they appeared in the back garden of their home. Faint light danced on the grass during the darkness of the night, so Roman strode towards the back door, still dragging the spider with him.

Roman swung the old wooden door open, stepping into the indoor light with Virgil right behind. The moment they stepped inside, Virgil felt the change in temperature, and a silent sigh of relief left him. The spider's shoulders slumped down at the warmth, not having to force an appearance anymore.

"Come," Roman spoke with a stern voice, but stepping through the room and towards the living room right by. Another sigh left Virgil, but the spider crawled after to follow into the warmer room.

Huddled together in some type of pile were the others. Janus and Patton laid in the middle, Remus using his tentacles to keep the large blanket over them in place, and Logan standing by the fire in the fireplace. Hearing the two return home, Patton beamed brightly, almost jumping out of his spot as he waved them over.

Roman smiled at the frog hybrid, but turned to give Virgil a brief nod to then take Logan's place by the fire. Logan gave the dragon a nod, and he stepped to join the pile of hybrids to help keep the warmth for the cold-blooded ones.

Virgil soon came to crawl over, and Remus lifted some of his tentacles, a part of the blanket while at it, so the spider could join in the middle, the spot for the cold ones. When tucking in his legs and lying down, Janus wrapped his long tail around him, but placing an arm on his back as support. With Virgil's body being a lot different, his back basically going ninety degree up from his spider body, he always only laid with his spider body, his human top having to hang or lean into something for support.

Remus stretched the blanket out to lie over the spider's back, but stretched a different tentacle to fetch another blanket to their side. With the new blanket, he wrapped it around Virgil's shoulder, having the spider now fully covered. Finished with his job, he continued to have his tentacles spread to keep the blanket over the three firmly in place, even if they were to move slightly.

But having nothing much but an arm to support his back, Virgil raised a finger to his mouth for his silk. He needed something to lean on, or his back would turn stiff again, and a single thread hanging from the ceiling would be enough for him. But as he went to do so, a growl from Roman had him stop to turn and raise an eyebrow.

"What did I just tell you earlier?" Roman questioned, eyes obviously narrowed with a warning look.

A huff left the spider, but he let his hand fall back down. A demanding look was shot back, and the dragon immediately went to drag over a cushioned stool for him.

When the furniture was in arm reach, Virgil immediately dragged it over and leaned onto it with crossed arms.

Seeing as everything was finally settled, a sigh of pleasure came from Patton, and he melted into the pile. With everyone back home, and Roman keeping a bright fire burning for them, everything was perfect. The group had always lived together and had this routine for the colder times. The more warm-blooded would always make sure the cold-blooded were all well in health, not growing cold or sick. 

Remus, as an octopus hybrid, should also be a cold-blooded, but for some miracle, he was actually not. Maybe it was from his creation magic, like Roman's, or if it was his relation to the dragon hybrid, no one knew. They were just glad he wasn't cold-blooded as well. Knowing he would have been a difficult one to keep healthy as so. That man was always all around. All from being underwater in the lake, to climbing in the trees, to doing his job to scare off all the humans daring to step close to their territory. Keeping him constantly warm enough would be a pain for them all, so they were thankful for that miracle.

Logan got up from his place, his wings tucked behind his back, but Virgil could see the others had helped him groom by the time he had gotten back, or more like Roman dragged him back. "I will go and start on something for us all to eat," Logan stated, heading to the kitchen, leaving the group to continue to huddle together for warmth. "I will be right back."

"Alright! But call if you need help!" Patton called after the other, but cuddled closed to Janus as he hugged the silk blanket closer to them.

"He'll be fine like usual, Padre," Roman chuckled as he stepped over to take Logan's place by the frog. "He does fine in the kitchen. Though I do still prefer your meals, but the priority is to keep you warm."

A small chuckle left Patton, and the man croaked as he reached an arm up at the dragon. Roman smiled as he took it, and Patton dragged him down to lie with them. An amused laugh came from Roman, but he got himself comfortable by the pile, but making sure he had good view of the fire, being ready to strengthen it if it was to weaken for even a moment. 

Everything was nice, cozy, and peaceful for them as another normal day passed by. The six men were as close as one could be without being blood-related, with the exception of Remus and Roman that is. And they would continue to be a close family of unique specimen, who stood out from everything else in the world.

The moon of the night sky shone beautifully down over the mansion as they all feasted and cuddled together for warmth and rest. This was all they ever needed, and it was all they ever wanted.

This is the hybrids' mansion. Their home.

[a-rat-called-remus]

Glasses

Fandom//Sander Sides

Warning: Swearing

Story Written by:

@a-rat-called-remus and @viva-gardens

Summary: Remus isn't the type to care about looks but when he realizes he's slowly going blind and has to wear glasses . . . That's a whole other story. He despises them.

Remus stares ahead of him frowning and squinting at the mirror. He looked fucking ridiculous. He took them off and then back on.

Repeating the process over and over again. He hated the fucking things and he hated how they looked on him.

He was going to be pummeled by insults.

Obviously he didn't care. He has never cared much about his appearance or what the others said about him or the cruel nicknames they assigned him, something they thought he didn't know about. Just because he doesn't bring it up doesn't mean he's oblivious to it.

Despite what the others thought he was much more observant and smarter than he appeared.

So why should this be any different. Why should these make him feel so unsure.

He squints down at the glasses in his hands. The ones Logan had conjured up for him.

It was a nice gesture but that didn't make him hate them any less.

he truly didn't deserve his kindness. Never has.

He'd have to leave the dark side eventually. He couldn't lock himself in his room forever.

Though Remus is sure most of them would be more than happy if he did that.

He squints down at them once more putting them back on. Adjusting them to his liking before looking back into the mirror. Staring at his reflection.

------------------------------------------------------

A familiar tugging sensation tilled his body.

Ah, fuck. He goes to take them off again and then-- Poof! Remus was in his assigned spot.

The space between Roman and Virgil.

Roman was going to have a field day with this.

He tilts his head slightly to face his brother.

He hadn't noticed his presence. And by the looks of it no one else had either.

He stood there silently.

Something almost abnormal when it came to Remus, he was always blabbering about something or another. Spouting out every single thought that crowded his mind.

Remus' eyes dart around the room again.

He looks to his other side to see Virgil glancing over at him. Not quite staring at him but now aware of Remus' presence.

Feeling the anxiety radiating off of him. His anxiety only heightened when he saw Virgil looking. It was odd. He was fidgeting with his sash adjusting it and readjusting it. What could have the duke so frazzled? His eyes flickering up to Remus face.

His eyes immediately landing on the green glasses. The glasses. He wanted to reassure Remus, comfort him, not only for Remus' sake but for his own. The anxiety radiating off of Remus was a lot. It felt like scorpions were crawling all over him. He had to stop it. But if he confronted Remus it would only draw attention and things would only get worse. Virgil understood that feeling more than anyone.

Roman hadn't noticed his brother standing next to him. He looked at each of the sides. Patton, Janus, Logan, and Virgil.

He somehow still didn't see his brother.

He looked at Thomas.

Nobody had said anything since they were called here. Not one word. Logan would usually say something, and if he didn't, either Patton or Virgil would. Janus hadn't been here long enough for Roman to know what he would do, and he didn't see his brother.

He looked at each of the sides once more once again somehow overlooking his brother and went to speak.

Roman throws his arms up. "Why has nobody said anything? We have been standing here for quite a bit, Thomas! And we still have yet to talk! Nobody has talked! Not Specs, not Padre, not even Virge. I'm just saying! I'm just bored!"

he throws his arms around while talking, making him look like an uncontrollable puppet.

Remus flinched slightly at the sound of his brother's voice, catching him off guard.

He looked over at Roman, who was staring at him. Or rather staring through him as if Remus hadn't even been there.

He watches as Romans eyes scan over each of the sides, and Thomas once again.

Still not noticing Remus. Good.

His mind immediately wandered off as his brother continued to shout at the others.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Into the Snake's Den

----

Things going missing in a household of four wasn’t uncommon, really. It was normal enough to misplace a sock on laundry day, or get one of your shirts mixed up with someone else’s and never see it again, or misplace one piece of jewellery from a set. Losing things was not out of the ordinary, what was out of the ordinary was just how often it happened for this particular household.

Logan theorised they potentially had borrowers, and if that was the case Patton was content to let them stay, though Roman had always brought up the point that who - or what - ever the culprit was, it was stealing items much too large to be a borrower. Patton had offered the idea that perhaps it was a fairy, or a spirit who lived nearby, in which case the group was even more eager to drop the issue.

That was until something important went missing a few weeks later.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: None as far as I'm aware

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP

Word Count: 4548

Notes:

I wrote this entire thing in one setting with encouragement from some awesome folks in the big bang server - I love you guys, lol.

Honestly, naga!janus in a non-explicit fic is so underrated - I think there really needs to be more snakey cuddles when the opportunity is so perfect, lol.

----

“Hey Pat - have you seen my cloak?” Came Virgil’s voice, sounding loudly through the house.

“No, bud, I haven’t seen it!” Patton yelled back as he worked on dinner, “Have you checked with Roman? I know he likes to borrow it sometimes-?”

His voice got quieter as Virgil actually joined him in the kitchen.

“I’ve already asked him,” He said, “Thought you might’ve washed it or something without telling me.”

“Nope… laundry day is tomorrow.” Patton shrugged and Virgil groaned. 

“Not again… that was my favourite cloak…” He mumbled, rubbing his face as he practically collapsed into the comfortable sofa next to Logan, who was reading a book on spells. 

Things going missing in a household of four wasn’t uncommon, really. It was normal enough to misplace a sock on laundry day, or get one of your shirts mixed up with someone else’s and never see it again, or misplace one piece of jewellery from a set. Losing things was not out of the ordinary, what was out of the ordinary was just how often it happened for this particular household. 

For the most part, it was things that weren’t really missed. Small things that didn’t matter all that much - little trinkets, an inexpensive belonging, usually something replaceable but personal. Sometimes it was more valuable items, jewellery - stolen especially from Roman and Virgil, who wore it most often - Art supplies from Patton or magical ingredients from Logan. 

Less often, but still notably more often than would be considered normal, bigger things went missing. Items of clothing, blankets from their beds, even pillows, occasionally. Other belongings - occasionally personal things too - would go missing too and Patton would find that a portion of whatever he had cooked would go missing as if by magic when he turned his back enough that he had started simply making extra. This had all started about a year ago, too, which leant more to the idea that this was suspicious. 

Today, it seemed, Virgil’s cloak had been taken. Patton could only assure him that they would get him a new one next time they went to the market. Nothing that had been taken had ever been returned. 

Logan theorised they potentially had borrowers, and if that was the case Patton was content to let them stay, though Roman had always brought up the point that who - or what - ever the culprit was, it was stealing items much too large to be a borrower. Patton had offered the idea that perhaps it was a fairy, or a spirit who lived nearby, in which case the group was even more eager to drop the issue. 

That was until something important went missing a few weeks later.  

—-

“Something’s not right,” Virgil hissed as he shook Logan awake one night.  Logan immediately got up, striking a match to light the candle on his nightstand and looking at Virgil - who’s eyes looked black in the dark. 

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, something’s wrong, I feel it,” He whispered, following Logan as he stood. The others had learned early on in their relationship that Virgil’s intuition was incredibly good; when he said something wasn’t right, he was almost always correct.

Glancing around as Logan paused to think, Logan’s eyes settled on a charcoal drawing that Roman had done of the four of them he kept in a frame, “Have you checked on the others?”

“Yeah - they’re both sleeping,” That was protocol, when Virgil felt that something was off in this way - he’d check on them first. 

“Alright, that’s promising - come on, we’ll check the casting room first.” Logan said. It was most likely that if something was wrong, that would be where it originated. A stray potion, a spilled pot of some ingredient messing with the aura of the place - not to mention Logan’s casting orb. 

The casting orb was a simple yet fairly rare magic tool - it allowed witches, like Logan, and other magic users - to store certain spells, keeping them constantly in place. The one Logan owned was mostly used to protect their home from any malevolent forces, there was one to grant them luck and it cast a generally positive magical aura that made it easier for all of them to perform their respective magic. 

When the pair entered the room, Virgil gasped. 

The door that led out to Patton’s greenhouse was wide open and from its glass case, the orb was missing. 

“Great,” Virgil said sarcastically. 

“We have to get it back,” Logan said immediately, “Not only is it incredibly valuable and dangerous in the wrong hands, but it is essential to keeping the others safe.”

Virgil’s expression twisted into a frown, “How are we gonna do that? We don’t even know what took it.”

“I’ll - figure something out,” Logan said, already heading over to his bookshelf, “If you could wake up the others?”

—-

“What are we doing out here in the middle of nowhere at whatever time in the morning again?” Roman complained as he led them down a barely trodden forest path, cutting back branches with his shimmering sword - that also served as a torch to light their way. Virgil was wearing a spare cloak that Patton was also sheltering under, clinging to Virgil’s side as the shadows swirled around them. Logan held his softly glowing staff and read from a book as they walked. 

“Left here, Roman,” Logan said quickly, “Sharply - and we’re looking for the creature that has stolen my orb.”

“Couldn’t this have waited ‘tll the morning?” Roman asked, veering left and swinging his sword in front of him to cut back brambles and clear a makeshift path. 

Virgil huffed, “You know how important the orb is, Princey, don’t be stuck up about it.”

“I just need my beauty sleep- woah…” Roman’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, your highness,” Virgil says with an exaggerated eye roll, though he fell quiet as he came into line beside Roman. Patton squeaked and Virgil gently squeezed his shoulders.-  trying not to pay attention to how the spare cloak was so scratchy and wasn’t the right size. Logan sighed.

“The trail goes in there,” Logan said, which none of them wanted to hear. Roman audibly groaned, both Patton and Virgil tensed. 

“That’s a naga den, no doubt about it,” Roman said quietly, looking at the large, dark cave entrance that lay open wide before them. A warm draft came from inside. Virgil wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren't for the suspiciously bone shaped - sticks, they were definitely sticks, he just shouldn’t think about it too hard, and he should absolutely not mention that within Patton’s earshot, “How important didja say this orb was? Like - is it worth our lives?”

The book in Logan’s hands snapped closed and he placed it carefully into his bag, placing both hands onto his staff instead, “We will not die as long as we do not mess this up.”

“And how exactly do we do that, specs?” Virgil asked gruffly - because how the fuck were they supposed to deal with a naga? Sure they were all magic users, but they weren’t that powerful.

“Well… Nagas are possessive, dangerous creatures,” Logan says, “Though their main defences are their tails and fangs, so long as you avoid getting caught in its tail you should not get hurt, hopefully, it will be sleeping and we will be able to sneak in to get the orb.”

“Don’t they have the best sense of smell and hearing like… ever, though?” Virgil asked, still looking at the cave, “And other crazy magic?”

Patton shivered, “Would- would it already know we’re here?”

“Well- It hasn’t come out to fight us, so I presume not,” Logan says, trying to placate, “If we can keep our spells and attacks ranged, we should all be okay.”

A dramatic sigh came from Roman’s right, “If you’d said that when we were at the house I would have brought my bow.”

Virgil glared at him, “You can channel magic through your sword, idiot.”

“Yeah - but the arrows are better-”

“Stop-” Logan commanded, both of them fell silent, feeling suitably cowed, “Unless you want to wake it up?”

With a sheepish look, Roman looked at his feet, “Right, sorry L.”

“Patton, you have your potions?” Logan asks a moment of silence later. 

“Yep - they’re mostly healing, though, I also brought snacks.”

“Well - I suppose the healing will be useful just in case,” Logan sighed, “You and I will hang back, Virgil and Roman should go in first.”

“What- why?” Roman protests.

“Your spells need line of sight and aim, if we are ahead of you you will be heavily hindered, mine do not,” Logan said, Virgil raised an eyebrow and he sighed and continued, “You are also a heavy hitter, and your shadow teleportation ability will make it easier for you to dodge, especially in a shadowy cave, plus you can see better.”

Virgil sighs, but doesn’t say anything - that reasoning is pretty sound., he supposed. 

“Are we ready?”

—-

The cave was dark, but unlike Virgil had expected, it didn’t necessarily smell bad, nor was it super damp - though it was a little humid, he supposed a naga would enjoy that.  The tunnel into the cave was fairly long, enough to make Virgil more and more nervous as they slowly and near silently traversed it, their path only lit by Roman’s sword. Something on the ground caught his eye and made him stop, Patton almost walked into him and whispered a quick ‘are you alright’ to him as Virgil bent down to pick it up. 

“Ro,” he whispered, “Light?”

Roman moved his sword closer to the thing Virgil had picked up, a small purple gemstone on a hooked wire, “I swear that’s familiar,” Roman whispered. 

“It’s my earring,” Virgil says as they continue to look at it, “The one I lost like a month ago?”

“Does that mean…” Patton whispered, before Logan nudged them both and put a finger to his lips, before pointing ahead of them. 

“Oh..” Roman whispered. A short ways ahead of them seemed to be the entrance to a much larger chamber, from which warm light seemed to spill into the tunnel. The four of them exchanged glances. Virgil especially shivered looking at it, that didn’t look like a particularly shadowy cave to him. “hm- before we go in, just in case we don’t come out.”

Logan tried to protest against Roman’s volume before he was pulled into a gentle kiss.  When he pulled away, Logan had a fond look on his face. Meanwhile Roman turned to Virgil and then Patton and did the same thing. 

That felt far too much like a goodbye. 

“Roman-” Virgil whispered before Roman was striding towards the chamber entrance, Logan reaches to grab him and pull him back but misses the back of his shirt by an inch. Virgil glances back at the other two and hurries after him, not about to let Roman be a self-sacrificing idiot for their sake. 

—-

When Roman reached the entrance of the chamber, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting and stopped short, rather than rushing in as planned. 

A naga, of course, and that’s what he saw, but he’d expected an intimidating, hissing creature, with coils and coils of tail ready to strangle or crush them, hissing with fangs ready to paralyse them with venom, he’d expected something dark and uncomfortable, not…

“Is that my shirt?” He asked dumbly to noone, only for Virgil to punch him in the arm for speaking so loudly, he turned to pout at him briefly before looking back at the scene before him. 

There was a naga, sure, and he was a little intimidating just for that fact, but really… Roman couldn’t force himself to be scared when he tried. 

He did have a mass of scaly tail that Roman was certain was strong enough to crush his bones, but right now it was coiled up and half buried in blankets he recognised, blankets, sheets, clothes and pillows that had been periodically going missing from their house. The naga’s tail was covered in shimmering gold and black scales, the gold glittering in the gentle light that filtered into the cave via some kind of magic and the black was iridescent. His torso too was a golden tan, flecked with the same shimmering yellow scales as his tail almost like freckles and cascades of soft looking warm brown hair obscured half of his face. 

In the naga’s arms was another pillow, though this one was dressed in what Roman was certain was one of his shirts that had gone missing fairly recently, his forked tongue was half out in his sleep in a frankly adorable ‘blep’. Roman found he could fathom fighting this creature less and less with every little detail he noticed. 

“This is…” Virgil whispered next to him. 

“Everything we’ve lost,” Patton finished, nodding. 

“But why?” Logan asked quietly, ever curious. Roman nodded, unable to help agreeing with the question - why did the naga want their things? Was this weird? Maybe a little, Roman thought it was almost cute. 

Roman turned his gaze to Logan as he seemed to scan the room, before his eyes settled on something, “The orb,” he whispered, pointing, “It’s over there.”

Right, that’s what they were here for, Logan’s orb. Roman followed his gaze to a small pile of trinkets across the room - all Logan’s things. His gaze slid to the other piles  scattered around, there was one for each of them. 

“I’ll get it,” Roman said eventually, already going to step forward before Virgil put his hand on his arm. 

A twisted, anxious expression was on his face and Virgil looked like he would rather be doing anything else right now, but he still said, “No - let me - I’m quieter.”

“Maybe,” Roman says softly, “But you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to be killed either-”

“I can take care of myself, V, it’ll be okay,” 

Patton shushed them hurriedly and the four of them turned to look at the naga, who murmured something and hugged the pillow closer whilst his tongue flicked out against it to smell the air, though he seemed to still be asleep. Logan seemed to realise something.

“This room is full of our scents already,” Logan whispered, drawing the attention of the other three, “It might not even notice we’re here - but we should still hurry, just-  do rock paper scissors if you have to.”

Roman turned to Virgil with a grin and held out his fist, Virgil rolled his eyes like this was a stupid idea but joined him in the game anyway. Roman won. He barely resisted crying out in victory, but he did punch Virgil affectionately before he smiled at the others and began making his way slowly around the edge of the chamber. 

Halfway there, the naga stirred again, but simply nuzzled into the pillow with a yawn that showed off his massive fangs, the mass of tail shifted, but he still didn't wake up. Roman put even more effort into being quiet until he reached Logan’s pile, picking up the shimmering orb carefully with both hands. He made eye contact with Logan before throwing it across the room. He almost laughed at the panic in Logan’s eyes as he casted a levitation spell on the small ball and brought it slowly back to himself, placing it carefully into the bag. Logan glared at Roman, who shrugged and took a step to make his way back. Having been looking at Logan, though, and not his feet, Roman found himself accidentally stepping on something that cracked under his foot. Loudly.

A wave of panic washed over him as the naga’s pointed ears pricked and he woke, this time his eyes blink open slowly and his gaze immediately locked onto Roman - he can’t help but think what striking colours they are. One is a striking gold, just like his scales, the other is almost black, but shimmering with an iridescent rainbow. Roman thought he ought to be worried about how he was about to die as the naga tasted the air, but he was frozen on the spot. Barely a glance at his lovers showed that they were terrified as well. 

For a moment, he and the naga simply stared at each other and he mentally begged the others to run. In a blink, and that’s really how fast it was - Roman couldn’t have possibly reacted - the naga struck, coiling his tail around Roman and lifting him from his feet. Of course he struggled, but the naga was strong and he had dropped his sword when the tail had wrapped around him, there was nothing he could do as he was brought face to face with the - admittedly incredibly beautiful - creature. He wanted to look at the others, but he also didn’t know if the naga knew they were there - and if he didn’t then Roman didn’t want to draw attention to them. If he was going to die here, he would have to make sure they could get out. 

He had expected the naga to squeeze him to death, maybe sink those razor sharp fangs into Roman’s skin and kill him slowly. The naga drew closer and flicked his tongue to smell him, Roman squeezed his eyes shut in preparation but no pain came, instead he felt cool lips pressed to his forehead. It was then that he realised a few different things at once.

First, the naga didn’t want to kill him - he would have done so by now. Second, his scales were cool and smooth where they pressed up against Roman’s bare arms, his tail wasn’t squeezing too hard. Though Roman couldn’t really struggle or escape, he could breath easily, it felt more like an embrace. Third… the naga had just kissed him. Now he was being stared at with a look that seemed like hopeful awe. 

“You…” Roman whispered, not being able to come up with words to express what he wanted to say - which was rare for him. Why was this beautiful thing looking at him like he hung the stars?

One of his hands came up to cup Roman’s face and he found himself leaning into it purely on instinct. The naga’s hands were cool and half scaled and it felt nice against his warm skin - and Roman had never been one to shy away from touch. Roman was passed then from the naga’s tail to his arms, where he was cradled against his strong chest. Despite the fear he had felt mere minutes ago, Roman couldn’t help the way his brain was screaming ‘safe’. He curled into the embrace. 

“Mine,” the naga hissed in Roman’s ear, his voice smooth and warm like melted chocolate, the sound made his breath hitch, “Ssssmokey one, you are ssso warm.”

“Let him go!” Patton's voice comes from the entrance to the chamber. Both Roman and the naga turn heads to look at him. Logan seemed to be trying to get Patton to be quiet and Virgil looked to be mid-panic attack. Roman felt a little bad. The naga moved closer to them and Patton tensed the closer he got. 

“He isss not hurt,” the Naga said, voice gentle as he turned a little to show Roman to them. Roman gave them a little wave and it seemed to placate the three of them just a little, “The little human iss but mine - and sso are you, my gems.”

His tail quickly hoists Patton into the air as well, but leaves his arms free unlike he had with Roman. Patton squeaked, flailing a little until he too realised he wasn’t being killed. When the naga drew him closer, he reached for Roman’s hand, he quickly took it. 

“Put them down,” Logan said, voice monotonous but hiding a venom that Roman could recognise, “We are not yours to hoard.”

“You are mine to love, little witch,” The naga says, “My little humans,”

Patton and Roman both found themselves lowered into the centre of the admittedly amazingly comfortable nest. Roman immediately scrambled over to Patton, pulling him into a gentle hug as the naga turned his attention to Virgil and Logan. Although they had been freed from his hold directly, they were still separated from the others by coils of the Naga’s tail, so they simply sat and waited. 

A stretch of silence passed as the naga’s eyes tracked Virgil curiously - the normally vigilant light-wielder didn’t seem to notice, focused on searching for something in the mass of blankets instead. 

“What are you looking for, little one?” he asked, curling himself around Virgil and making him jump badly and look around to face him. Virgil seemed to freeze, but the naga remained as passive as ever. 

Another silent moment passed, “...my cloak,” Virgil admitted softly, “The big one you - you took a few weeks ago.”

Barely a moment passed before the naga slithered to a spot and dug through the blankets to pull out a mass of black fabric, decorated with purple embroidery which he brought back to Virgil - who stared at him in surprise and wonder. 

“I liked this one,” the naga said, placing it around Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil immediately let out a sigh of relief, practically melting into the fabric, “It'sss big.”

“Yes,” Virgil said quietly. The naga offers him a hand that he tentatively takes and Virgil is carefully lifted to stand on a coil of his tail, steadied by the naga’s hand as he’s brought to join Patton and Roman, who accepted him into their hug gently, earning a fond smile from the naga, who then turned his attention back to Logan, who was growing less and less steadfast in his resistance by the moment. 

“You haven’t usssed that on me yet,” the naga says almost conversationally, gesturing to Logan’s faintly glowing staff - which he was clutching like a lifeline, “What are you waiting for, little witch?”

“I-” Logan faltered, “You…”

The naga hummed, “Will you join uss, little witch?”

Logan frowned, pausing, “What is your name, naga?”

A smile spread across the naga’s face, “I am called Janus,” He answers, voice still gentle.

“I am Logan,” Logan says, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ssso polite,” Janus hisses, edging forwards toward him.

“You’ve been stealing from us for months.” Logan backs up a step and Janus pauses, “Why?”

This seemed to give Janus pause, since he actually stopped to take a second and think about his answer. Roman found he was curious as he grabbed a red fluffy blanket - one of his favourites that he had lost - from the top of the pile and wrapped it around his shoulders. For that he earned a pat on the shoulder from Virgil and a kiss to the cheek from Patton. 

“I wanted my humans near me,” Janus said eventually, “But you would not come, I had to make do.”

Roman couldn’t quite work out whether that was absolutely adorable or kind of sad.

“Is that why you took my orb?” Logan asked, taking off his bag and placing it carefully behind him. Proceeding to carefully put his staff down with it, “So we would come here?”

Janus looked away, an almost embarrassed expression overtaking his face. Roman couldn’t help but share a smile with his loves. Virgil smirked back and Roman just knew  from that look he was holding back from teasing the naga that technically had them hostage and vulnerable viciously. “Perhaps.”

“You could have simply approached us,” Logan said, his tone minutely softer. 

Janus raised an eyebrow and simply gestured to his tail, which took up the majority of the large cavern. 

“Right,” Logan said, frowning, “Yet you managed to sneak into our house to steal?”

“Nagas have magic too, little witch,” Janus hissed, finally approaching him properly, carefully and slowly wrapping his coils around him to lift him and place him in the nest with the others. Logan seemed curious, but Janus didn’t seem willing to elaborate as he placed Logan in their little circle. Patton immediately reached for him. 

Meticulously, Janus picked over the four of them, taking their weapons and adding them to a small pile as well as anything breakable or uncomfortable. Roman had difficulty giving up his sword’s sheath - even if the sword itself had been left on the floor of the cavern already, but Janus promised it would be safe in his hoard and lifted Roman gently so he could see where he placed it. The others were easier to disarm, especially Logan - who had already left his things at the door, so to speak. 

When he was done he coaxed the four of them to lie down with a gentle voice and soft, alluring words, promising them safety and comfort as he buried himself once more in the blankets, laying himself down so he wrapped the four of them in his coils and his human torso could lie amongst them, allowing himself to wrap his arms around Roman and for Virgil to share his cloak. Logan held Virgil carefully from behind and Patton found himself laid across all four of them, his head in Roman’s lap and his feet in Logans. 

“My little ones,” Janus whispered as the lights above them dimmed, a hand carding through Virgil’s hair where his head rested against Janus’ shoulder, his lips brushed Roman’s forehead and he reached to brush a hand over Logan and Patton’s faces in turn, “My lovely humans.”

Patton let out a content hum and squirmed a little to get comfortable, Roman heard Logan let out a happy sigh. 

“So warm, so sweet,” Janus hissed softly as he tugged Roman closer, burying his face in his shoulder. Roman had always run the warmest of the group. 

Patton fell asleep first, and then Roman next. Logan fell next, with a little gentle coaxing from the naga until it was just Virgil. 

—-

“You are still scared, little gem,” Janus said softly, brushing  the hair from Virgil’s face, “My little amethyst, what scares you?”

It takes a long time for Virgil to answer and in that time Virgil meets his eyes and Janus knows without him saying a word that it’s him Virgil is afraid of still. 

“How do I know you won’t turn on us while I sleep?” Virgil asked, even despite his fears his voice is still quiet so as not to wake the others, “How do I know they’re safe.”

“I will protect them,” Janus says softly, leaning forward and kissing Virgil’s forehead. Roman makes a soft sound and shifts in his sleep, one of his arms wraps around Janus’ waist and he sighs contently, “I love you all, my sweet ones, I will protect you, I promise.”

“How do I know that?” Virgil insisted, “How do I know you’re not lying.”

“Do you have a bad feeling about me, my amethyst?” Janus asked softly, cupping Virgil’s cheek with a hand. 

Virgil takes a long moment to consider, before he eventually shakes his head. His eyes are wide. 

“No,” he says softly, meeting Janus’ eyes again, “I think you’re good.”

“Then trust me, little human,” Janus hissed softly, the sound practically luring Virgil to relax. He takes a deep breath and… does. 

Virgil falls asleep with the others and Janus keeps his promise.

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

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