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#part 2 virgil sold
its-ahissionado · 27 days
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The Sides as friend group quotes part 2!
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Remus: I'm like, really into MHA right now.
Roman: Really? My Hero Academia?
Remus: Oh, no no no. Mass Homicidal Arson.
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Roman: What's a word that means being thrown out of a window?
Logan: Well, there's defenestration.
Virgil: Stupidity.
Roman: I hope you defenestrate, Janus!!
Logan: No, that's not— not how you use it, though—
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Logan: Punctuation is important.
Roman: Says the one who constantly sounds like a non-punctuating texter.
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Virgil: Eugh, look at this—
Patton: Absolutely not, I am bug–PHOBIC.
Virgil: What? No, I was going to show you a mug made from jeans. It's a Jug.
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Remus: Hey there—
Virgil: No.
Roman: FUCK YOU!
Logan: Just... No.
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Remus, deadpanning: I sold a kid in Spanish today.
Logan: How much?
Patton: WHAT??!
Virgil: *dying of laughter*
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Roman: Water: powered by your local hoes.
Virgil: This ad was funded by the NHO: The National Hoe Organization.
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Remus, holding a stuffed peep plush that's nearly the size of him: Get in losers, we're going to Hell.
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Janus: 🫵 ⏲️ 🔪
Roman, to Logan: Janus is threatening to kill me!!
Janus: No I wasn't. I was only telling you to come out of your room for lunch.
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anxiouslyfred · 1 year
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Parents Not Included
Summary: When Patton sold his soulmates soul to a demon, he should have worried what being the perfect dad or dad friend could become. Janus is more than happy to let that extreme make Patton's life go downhill fast. They know Remus has already had his revenge but they can add their own, after all, they were the one to make the deal.
Part of my Anxceitmus Demonic Soulmates AU
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Technically, demonic deals can't be turned back on the person who made them. Technicalities mean nothing however, in the face of rage, twisted deals and scheming if the demon the deal was made with was smart enough.
Janus definitely was smart enough.
Of course they would never do anything to break or take back the deal they'd made. It brought them to Virgil and they would do nothing to ever endanger their second soulmate. They could easily however fulfil the deal too well, too perfectly, while leaving out one simple exception to it.
Patton had wanted to be the greatest dad or dad friend ever, so that's what Janus made him seem like, to everyone, except the parents of actual children, the police or the courts. It was a trap simply made, and easily ready to be fallen into.
/\/\
Blending into the background was easy enough, especially for beings who didn't need to remain in one physical form and could easily push everyone's attention elsewhere.
And there, walking down the street was Patton, the image of a perfect dad for everyone to see, even including a child holding his hand as he looked about in concern.
“Mr Dad, why are we coming back this way? You said you'd help me.” The child was whining.
Patton glanced down immediately going back to looking around the people nearby. “Well you ran over from this direction. Don't you need to return to your parents, let them know you're safe?”
“Of course I'm safe, Mr Dad. I'm with you.” Ah for childhood innocence and a deal strongly fulfilled. Janus hid their smirk behind a book, but his eyes tracked directly to further along the path.
“Olivia! Where did you go? What happened?” A frantic mother charged along it, immediately sweeping the child into her arms and rounding on Patton with a fiery glare. “What the hell are you doing with my child, Creep!”
Patton raised his hands backing away a little. “She came and asked me for help. I was retracing her steps to try and find you.” He attempted to explain, but was already being yelled at again.
“Likely Story! You were abducting her, weren't you? I've seen men like you before, all friendly and nice to the kids until you get them where you want them!” The rant is harsh, and enough to get more people paying attention, including some passing officers.
“Excuse me, Ma'am, but can you explain what's happened?” One of them asked, approaching and looking sternly over Patton.
Janus decided they didn't need to see more today, especially since a bus had just pulled up at the stop they'd decided to wait in. They could check back on the outcome of this deal in a few months time.
/\/\
Since the deal, since learning demons exist and becoming soulmates with 2 of them, Virgil had learnt that demons, possibly even more so than bankers, ensured debts were paid to their liking, and that included getting revenge.
He'd known that Remus would get revenge on Patton at the first opportunity. That had been why he never questioned getting Anathema from the store his ex had worked at, and why he still avoided complaining about frustrating people from work too much. Just in case someone who'd just been having a bad day got punished for upsetting him.
What he had assumed however was that the deal Patton had made with Janus would prevent the other demon from being able to get revenge.
Coming home to see Remus and Janus giggling on the couch as smug and happy as can be had Virgil questioning that idea.
“What's got you two so happy?” He asked, easily letting himself be pulled into the cuddles.
Janus nuzzled into his neck, purring, “Figured out some small revenge for a deal gone bad.”
Now some alarms would be ringing in his mind, except he knew there was nothing he could really do to control the pair. “Another one? I thought the last deal you said went bad was Patton's and Remus already got plenty of revenge for that.”
“Didn't he just.” They agreed, making no other comment.
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downeypike7 · 2 years
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infinitesimal-grey · 5 years
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The Box.
Part 2 of the Virgil Sold AU
Links to other parts in reblog
"Nevertheless Roman couldn't help but wonder what animal could be in this box that even his parents would think expensive."
Roman receives a gift from his parents.
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Word Count: 811
Chapter Warnings: Parents generally ignoring kid, I don't know if that's a needed warning for most but I'd rather be safe than sorry ya know?, implied unsafe borrower handling, mild swears
...
Roman Knight knew his parents weren't the most honest people when it came to where they spent their money. And the family money, of course, was in no short supply.
His father owned a pharmaceutical business called Throne Labs. It was apparently a big deal that Roman would inherit it one day, family legacy, lots of “corporate enemies”, yada yada yada.
Obviously, Roman didn't care much about his family's plans. He wasn't even that close with them, having spent most of his younger years going from boarding school to boarding school. Sometimes he'd get kicked out on purpose, other times was purely an accident.
That's how it went until Roman finally convinced his father to let him attend a public high school, like a normal teen. Finally he’d be able to party with normal kids; not kids who thought the height of teen defiance was stealing a sip of champagne during the holidays. Besides, it's a lot harder to get kicked out of public high school.
They packed up and moved into a huge house on the outskirts of a small suburbia town named Greendale. A private, gated neighborhood, of course. Luckily it was only a few miles from one of his former schools where his best friend, Logan, attended. He was the only real friend Roman would count, the rest only stuck around because he came from a wealthy family. Yet Logan for whatever reason tolerated his existence and didn't suck up to him, or worse, pity him. For that Roman supposed he could excuse his insufferable egg headedness.
Now about his parents questionable expenses, they often went to fancy black auctions. He didn't know much about it other than assuming it was probably an illegal pissing contest for which loaded idiot could spend the most on useless shit. Usually they came home with boring antiques or guns for “our protection”, often a few gifts for Roman; a silver suit of armor and antique switchblade being his favorite. But two days before Roman’s first day of school, they came home with something… else.
///
Mr. and Ms. Knight lingered in the kitchen preparing to leave. Both were fairly busy fussing with their respective outfits, readying for whatever formal event the calendar dictated of them. The former of which was tying his tie swiftly, almost mechanically. The latter was holding a small black box with a minimalistic white ribbon in one hand. With her free hand she fussed over her makeup in the reflection of a nearby sculpture.
On the other hand, Roman scrolled through his social media feed at the kitchen island breakfast bar. He somehow made precariously draping oneself across two 3 foot high stools look comfortable and elegant.
“Roman, dear. Before we go. We got you something for you to help ease the move, leaving your friends and all.” Ms. Knight said with the empathy of a marble slab. She held up the box without looking, instead focusing on smoothing down her slicked blonde ponytail. Roman looked up from his phone at this. He sat up a bit and fixed his eyes on the box, already trying to guess what was inside.
“That, and it's time you learned some responsibility. You're a senior in highschool now. 17 years old, you best act start acting like it,” The suited father said in a stern voice as he combed his hair in the mirror. “You must note that what is in the box is your responsibility, and yours alone. You will take total care of it and see to its well being, it cost a fortune. If I catch it in the maids possession or if anyone else so much as finds it you're on the next flight to the next boarding school.” Roman tried to interrupt but his father didn't even glance his way and cut him off quickly, “No buts. If you don't take the gift I can always keep it and send you packing anyway.”
Roman shut his mouth and nearly scoffed in annoyance. Surely whatever this thing was wouldn't be that hard to take care of. It was just some dumb animal afterall. He glared in annoyance at the box, knowing it was the only thing standing between him and another year of hell. Nevertheless Roman couldn't help but wonder what animal could be in this box that even his parents would think expensive. Roman went to voice his questions, but was ignored yet again.
“We must get going, we are almost late.” Ms. Knight smoothed her platinum blonde ponytail once more before promptly put the box on the island. He narrowed his eyes. Roman could've sworn he heard an almost human yelp. “I trust you will acquaint yourself, any further instruction for care is inside.” His mother noted. Roman started, still having questions, but the two had already left. The slam of the front door promptly affirmed their absence. Roman made an offended noise in their general direction.
That left Roman alone in the oversized home. Just him, and his gift.
...
A wild Roman appears, surprise! This is a lot of backstory for Roman, and how he lives in this universe. I went for a more rebllious Roman for this story. It's not exactly conventional, but I feel like this fits Roman as a highscooler? Unfortunately borrower Virgil may not agree that this is a good thing. Let me know what you guys think.
I decided to continue posting. I have so many ideas for this au! Too bad none of them will be good for Virgil. Anonymous asks are enabled now, I'll be happy to answer any questions that come to mind :D
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Tag list- @arc852 @revairies @justanotherpurplebutterfly @angels-ofthe-sea @metaphoricalpluto2 @sanders-sides-rebloger @theblankest123 @hamsteryoutubers @sanderstalker @bunny222 @calvindientesblancos
Feel free to ask to be added or removed from the tag list at any time
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whatgaviiformes · 3 years
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Fic: Firefly’s Glow - Part 8/?
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Chapter 1: Part 1 | Part 2 Chapter 2: Part 3 | Part 4   Chapter 3: Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 Chapter 4: Part 8  You are Here From the Beginning: FF | AO3 Summary: Imprisoned by the Hood, Gordon dreams of his oldest brother and of fireflies - but of course the Hood had to steal that memory too, in addition to his baldric, his boots, and Virgil’s face. What else could he possibly steal? He discovers the answer is quite a bit, and Gordon has to learn to navigate his new world, its new dangers, and the overbearing presence of his brothers’ desire to help what they can’t fix. This part ~  1.2K words – the sky, the stars, and the sea (or: Scott and John take care of Gordon) TW: Thunderstorms for this part, and slight drinking.  Thanks to @godsliltippy​ for the read through.  -----
Rain trailed down the villa’s windows with a steady pitter-patter as intermittently the grey sky growled with a fervent rumble in the distance. There was a difference to the way a storm sounded, striking instead a blanket of leafy, green canopy as opposed to the plains of their Kansas home – and this time it was joined in its chorus with the tossing of the sea waves upon the sandy beaches and rocky alcoves of Tracy Island.
Muted through the windowpanes it was, but Scott was listening for it. It was the sound of life-giving water returning to its home. Sky to sea. Eventually sea to sky, and back again.
The cycle helped him breathe through the weight in his chest.
The figurative one. Gordon was hardly heavy at the moment, more a feather’s breath sleeping soundly on the pillow his torso provided, rising up and lowering down with the motion of his lungs.
There was a reason Scott kept his breaths steady.
He pressed at the space between his eyes, where his nose met his aching head. Though the slumbering form shifted at the movement, Gordon did not wake. Despite the circumstances, he couldn’t help but smile fondly down at the figure curled on top of him and the childish googly-eyed smiley face that grinned at him on the camo shirt above where Gordon’s injured right arm was sprawled over his belly.
The doll clothes had been John’s idea. After a quick net search by EOS, some call outs from the Space Elevator on John’s way to the Island, and finally a quick pallet pick up from the brand’s warehouse in Thunderbird 1 on Scott’s way home, they were now owners of a pallet of 6-inch dolls of randomized styles.
It had been easiest and quickest to buy them in bulk, and the clothes weren’t sold separately. They’d have some doll toys they could keep in Thunderbird 2 for future rescues when all this was over, and the rest could be donated to the children’s hospital on the mainland. But in the meantime, Gordon had picked a few pieces to wear, and the first order of business had been for his brothers to pry the damn dolls out of their packaging so they could get to the clothes, which were either pull over or Velcro.
Even with doll proportions where a good chunk of the size came from the large, non-anatomically correct heads, the apparel was still slightly oversized on their brother.
“How is he?”  came John’s patient, dulcet tone from around the corner, clasping two half-full glasses of amber and raising an inquiring eye when he realized Scott was in fact not at their dad’s desk where he left him, but lying on the couch propped up slightly on one arm and with his long legs propped over the other.
“Exhausted,” Scott answered thickly, his voice low. “We were just going to rest a moment.”
And they’d needed it. Debrief had been…. Hard.
They’d made it through the details of the original rescue in the standard amount of time and dreaded the next part, though no one expected Gordon to flat out refuse to talk until Virgil left.
Virgil had paled at the statement, argued for Gordon to let him help until he was hoarse with it. And Gordon just shook his head. In the end, Scott agreed that they should do as Gordon asked, because he could feel how tightly Gordon was pulling at his collar.
Scott hated that look of betrayal in Virgil’s eyes as he stormed off, the “fine” breaking off with a brittle catch of air. He’d wanted to follow Grandma and Alan to make sure he was okay, but Gordon needed him.
And though he hadn’t understood it at the time, he did now.
His heart ached for Gordon.
It ached for Virgil too. He was going to be devastated.
“Hey, Scott. You with me?” John asked with a swirl of the glass, the ice clinking against the side. He gently nudged Scott’s legs back as he sat down on the edge of the couch. “Figured we both could use one of these after that.”
Scott hummed in agreement. Once Gordon had felt comfortable with just Scott and John in the room, the story had come tumbling out. Every painful and cruel detail.
He accepted the glass and shifted up just a bit to give John slightly more room. It was a more comfortable position for sipping, but not so far propped up that Gordon would start to slide. Just in case, he also rested his left arm across his stomach so he could support him if he did.
A crackle lit up the sky for a moment, and the cool burn of whiskey slid down his throat. “Helluva day,” he whispered, his breath heavy.
John nodded, brushing back the ginger hair that fell into his face. “We can fix this, Scott,” he stated, gaze sharp as emerald green abandoned the copper inside his glass to meet weary blue. “Kayo’s out pursuing leads, and I have EOS looking. We’ll figure this out.”
Scott watched a bead of condensation cling to his glass, much slower in its run through the cycle than its raindrop cousins outside. He rubbed it gently with his thumb, which came back wet while the glass appeared silkier, smoother and yet when he looked at the world through it, everything distorted in angled amber.
John coughed, then cleared his throat. “So, I had to tell Grandma.”
Scott frowned at him. “You heard what he said.” Gordon hadn’t wanted anyone else to know.
“Right,” John scoffed. “Have you ever seen Grandma take no for an answer? She cornered me on the way to the restroom. She said she gets it. She won’t reveal anything until Gordon’s ready. But Virgil’s really hurt.”
He knew that and despised that this was something big brothers couldn’t just put a bandage on and fix. “I don’t like having to keep this from him.”
“No one does,” John agreed, “but we have to trust in Gordon. It’s what he wants. For now.”
Outside the thunder clapped, the storm closing in on the villa with a rush of rain. Even after all this time, even with listening so intently to the storm build, the volume took him by surprise. Despite the exercises, there were times – too often than he’d like to admit – that thunder didn’t sound like thunder.
Air caught, just for a moment in Scott’s lungs. He forced the fear back down with a mouthful of fire, listened to the rain, focused on the cycles.
Above his fluttering heart, Gordon stirred. “Why,” he mumbled, “...th’boat stop?” He blinked groggily up at the ceiling, at John then Scott. “Oh.”
“Go back to sleep, Gordon,” John encouraged. “Sorry we woke you.”
“‘S’ok.” Gordon tapped to get his attention, and Scott looked down at the pressure, meeting small, but just as equally determined brown eyes. “Hey. Jus’ a storm.”
“I know, Gordo,” Scott whispered. “Sleep.”
Agreement was muffled into his shirt and faded quickly as the tiny grip went slack.
Eventually glasses were emptied, refilled, and finally abandoned as the storm blew through. And finally, when Scott’s lids lowered, John cleaned up and took over at their father’s desk to pick up the reports where Scott left off, keeping a watchful eye on his brothers as always.
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stillebesat · 3 years
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Christmas Eve (1/5)
Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton)  Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind.  Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk  Taglist in Reblog. 
It was one thing to know that parents -not his by any means- but other parents loved to give their kids pets for Christmas. But Janus had never realized just how...well popular the concept was in practice.
Now, fifteen pet stores later, he was well acquainted with the fact that everyone within a hundred and fifty mile radius seemed to have had the same thought he had had months ago. 
Silently--because his kid was in the car with him and he would not swear where those sensitive ears could hear him--Janus cursed as he finally finagled his way into a parking spot and turned off the car. 
With all his research. With all his preparation. Janus hadn’t stopped to consider that pet stores could actually run out of the animals that they sold. He’d just assumed that if there were a good two dozen creatures in the cage in August when he’d first looked into gathering supplies for his son then there would be a good two dozen creatures in the cage in December as well. That he could simply pop into the store Christmas Eve and waltz out five minutes later triumphant. 
He’d been a fool. Apparently pets were as hot of a commodity as electronics and toys were. And they too, unfortunately, had a limit in availability. 
He had spent most of today regretting not buying his son a Frogmin earlier. He definitely regretted telling him that they would be getting him one this morning as an early Christmas present from him to only have the sun setting after an entire day spent in the car. He regretted--Janus jumped as a small hand patted his arm. 
“You’re still the best Daddy, Daddy.” Patton said, leaning into view, a wide smile on his face even as tears shimmered in his eyes. 
Despite himself he scoffed, raising a hand to cradle his son’s cheek. The Best? His little Lilypatton was doing his best to not cry on the most magical night of the year and he thought he was the best?! 
“Liar.” He murmured.
Patton flashed him another heart-melting grin. “Truther!” He retorted, patting his arm again. “You’re trying, Daddy. That’s what counts. And you’ve tried sooo hard for me.”
He had. But that didn’t make this situation any better--okay it did make him feel a little better. That his son didn’t hate him for making a promise that he would have to break if this pet store also was out of Frogmins. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like the biggest failure in the world. 
On Christmas Eve no less.  
It would be nice, for once, if he could just succeed in something without having to climb a bloody mountain every time. It would be nice if he could have his little Hallmark movie moment and have everything work out. 
But no. Even when he was trying to do something good for someone else...he still failed. Janus dropped his hand to Pattey’s little ones, giving them a squeeze. “Odds?” He asked, tilting his head to the door.
Patton bit his lip, climbing into his lap to get a better view of the store with a gaudy castle emblem, grey stonework, and the customers constantly streaming in and out. “I say Eight!” 
Janus blinked, wrapping his arms tightly around his son in a hug as he gave the place another once over as well. That was...far more optimistic than the last four stores they’d gone to. Maybe Pattey just liked the castle. He was a fan of Princes after all. Especially the Frog ones. “I’m gonna stick with Two.” He said pushing open the car door and angling himself so Pattey could easily jump out. 
“But look at all the people!” His son argued, slipping his hand into Janus’s as soon as he’d locked the car. 
“I’ve looked….what am I supposed to see?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 
Pattey gestured wide. “They’re all smiling when they leave!” He followed suit by giving Janus a wide toothy grin that showed three empty spaces where he’d lost his teeth two and a half weeks earlier. 
“And?” 
 Patton practically skipped in place, only held back from dancing around him by the fact that Janus was not letting him leave his side in such a busy parking lot. “That means they found what they wanted! So that means we will too!” 
 No, it meant that with his abysmal luck, they would once again be just slightly too late. Their Christmas moment ruined. This store did close in ten minutes after all. They had to have run out of a few creatures. Had to have denied some customers their Christmas miracle.
Still...Janus again studied the faces of the people passing them. His kid had a point. Everyone they passed was smiling. Their hands were full of bags and...his heart skipped a beat. And boxes with holes. Holes that had movement. That showed a tiny hand or a little foot. That let him hear the tiny hisses and croaks and mews. 
He smirked, winking at his son. “I’m sticking with two.” 
“Daaaaaddddd!!!” 
Janus laughed, shaking his head. “Three then.” These people had found the pets they were looking for even at this late hour. Maybe--He squeezed Pattey’s hand, allowing a small flicker of hope to burn in his chest as they walked inside. Maybe this time...they would finally succeed--
He looked up only to feel that small flicker of hope fade as soon as he saw an achingly familiar figure approaching them. It was crushed the moment he could read the name tag on his shirt. Pulverized when he looked up into the intricate, ever shifting, amber eyes that he’d spent most of college daydreaming about. And it subsequently burned to ashes the moment Roman Prince opened his mouth to probably greet them with the standard shop greeting...only to say nothing as recognition and then hatred flared like a raging inferno in his eyes.
To Be Continued. Part 2
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ironwoman359 · 4 years
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Trust issues with Virgil and Patton?
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@badthingshappenbingo  (read my specific rules for taking these prompts here)
Prompt: Trust Issues
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Summary: At a rescue/rehabilitation center for victims of human experimentation, Patton attempts to build a rapport with the newest patient. 
Content Warnings: Fear, mistrust, past trauma, implied human experimentation.
Word Count: 1,336
Read on AO3 here
Bad Things Happen Masterlist
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“How is he today?”
The grim look on Logan’s face was all the answer Patton needed, and he sighed. He placed the tray he’d been carrying on Logan’s desk and stepped around him to peer at the monitors his partner had been studying. They showed a video feed of a small but comfortably furnished room that looked empty at first glance, but Patton knew what to look for. There! In the corner furthest from the room’s door, a small, dark figure was huddled in a ball. Even through the video feed, it was clear that he was shaking.
Patton’s heart ached at the sight, and he wanted nothing more than to swoop in and pull the poor thing into his arms and promise him that everything would be okay. However, given his previous reactions to anyone trying to touch him, Patton knew that would be a bad idea. Still, he wasn’t going to just sit on the outside and observe anymore.
“I’m going to bring him his food today myself.”
Logan looked up, eyes wide. 
“Patton, that is very ill-advised–”  
“He’s not eaten anything, Lo, if we don’t get that to change fast, we’re going to have to sedate him and hook him up to a feeding tube, and you and I both know that if we do that we’ll shatter any chance of him ever trusting us.” 
Logan sighed and rubbed his eyes, staring at the screens. “Yes, I know. I had hoped that us giving him space and providing him with food and water would be enough to show that we mean well, but apparently not.” 
“You know what he’s survived, Logan,” Patton said quietly. “He probably doesn’t even trust that the food is safe. We have to prove to him that we aren’t going to hurt him.” 
“Be careful,” Logan cautioned as Patton picked up his tray again and headed down the hallway to where the holding rooms were. Patton paused outside their newest guest’s room, and took a deep breath before punching a code in the keypad by the door. He hated that the door had to be kept locked, but when the subject was so unstable, they had to keep him confined for his own safety. Patton hoped they’d be able to change that soon. 
“Hey there, kiddo,” Patton called softly as he stepped into the room, the automatic door sliding shut behind him with a hiss. “You doing okay this morning?”
The figure in the corner flinched away, and Patton smiled gently. He kept his eyes lowered and curled in on himself as he approached, trying to appear small and nonthreatening. He sat down on the floor, folding his legs underneath him, and glanced up to check for a reaction.
“I brought you something to eat,” he said. “Are you hungry?” 
The boy glared at him from under a shock of dark hair, and Patton resisted the urge to reach out and brush it out of his eyes. He had to be more delicate than that if he was going to get through to him. 
“You’ve gotta eat something, kiddo, you don’t wanna get sick,” he said. He held out the tray, but the boy just scooted further away. Patton nodded, setting the tray on the ground. 
“Listen, I get it,” he murmured. “You’re scared, and suspicious. I don’t blame you; I would be too if I’d been in those labs. But this place isn’t like that. We’re a rehabilitation facility, you don’t have anything to fear here, I promise.”
The boy didn’t look convinced, but Patton hadn’t expected him to be. For all he was concerned, Patton was just another scientist who wanted something from him. 
“Look kiddo, if you won’t eat your lunch, do you mind if I have some?” he asked lightly. “I haven’t eaten yet today, and this soup smells amazing.” 
The boy frowned at that, glancing at Patton out of the corner of his eye, and Patton suppressed a smile. 
Good, he had his attention. 
Carefully, so the boy could see what he was doing, Patton picked up the plastic spoon from the edge of the tray and took a bite of the soup. He smiled over at the boy, who was staring openly at him now. 
“You sure you don’t want any?” he asked. “It’s really good.” 
He took another spoonful, then picked up the piece of bread lying on the tray and tore off a section, dipping it in the broth. He popped it in his mouth, then nudged the tray towards the boy with an encouraging smile. 
The boy hesitated, and Patton made a show of swallowing his mouthful of bread. That seemed to finally be enough for him, and he scooted closer, just close enough to grab at the tray. He snatched up the hunk of bread and dunked it in the soup broth before tearing off an enormous bite. He barely took time to chew before swallowing and taking another massive mouthful, and Patton fought the urge to giggle. 
“Easy, kiddo,” he said instead. “You don’t wanna choke and hurt yourself. There’s more where that came from if you want it.” 
That made the boy pause, and he regarded Patton with a curious look. He swallowed slowly, then, in a voice so low and raspy that Patton almost didn’t hear, asked “Really?” 
Patton forced his face to remain calm, even though his insides were leaping with excitement. He’d talked! He’d actually talked! Other than his panicked screams and aggressive hissing when he’d first been brought in, he hadn’t made a sound the entire time he’d been here, and now he’d spoken! Only one word, but still, it was progress, and Patton was going to take it. 
“Of course,” he said, keeping his voice even. “There’s definitely enough for seconds if you want. I’d have to take a trip down to the kitchens to get some, but I’d be happy to do so!”
There was a beat of silence, and then, 
“Why?” 
Oh, that simple word spoke volumes, and Patton couldn’t decide whether he should pull the kiddo close and promise him that he’d never be hurt again or go out and hunt down anyone and everyone who was responsible for making the notion of kindness such a strange and foreign one to him. 
“Because you need to get your strength up, kiddo,” he said, pushing both urges away for now. “You’ve been through a lot.” 
“And what...” the boy’s voice shook, and he paused, swallowing before continuing. “What happens...after I get my strength up?” 
Patton smiled sadly. 
“Absolutely nothing. We’re not here to hurt you.”
The boy looked skeptical, and Patton sighed. 
“I don’t blame you for not trusting me,” he said quietly. “I’d be cautious too, if I were in your shoes. I just...hope that you’ll give me a chance to prove that I really do want to help you. Will you let me do that?”
The boy regarded him silently, and eventually nodded. Patton smiled brightly at him, then took a deep breath. Time to test the waters. 
“My name is Patton, by the way,” he said, and the boy's eyes widened just a bit. “Do you have something I can call you, besides just kiddo?” 
The boy looked away, and Patton held his breath, hoping that he hadn’t moved too quickly. If he spooked now, it could take ages to coax him into opening a dialogue with them, and- 
“Virgil.” 
Patton nearly squeaked in surprise. 
“My name is Virgil,” Virgil said again, and Patton’s face bloomed into a smile. Virgil watched him for a moment, then offered a tiny, hesitant smile back. 
It was official. Patton was putting all his other cases on hold until he was sure that Virgil would never be afraid to smile again. The path towards his recovery certainly wouldn’t be easy, but if Virgil was willing to try, then Patton would give it his absolute everything. 
“Well, Virgil,” he said, his smile growing wider. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
---
Part Two: Gaining Trust
Bad Things Happen Masterlist My Fic Masterlist Commission Info Ko-fi
Sanders Sides Taglist (pt.1): @lizethemotherlycat,  @coffeestudylive, @logically-asexual,  @migraine-marathon, @princeyssash,  @idontevenfreakingknow22, @tree4life25, @spacevirgil, @virgiltheanxious, @thebaagelboy,  @msu82, @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, , @thesleepyraziel, @bobolovesoze,  @littlemiracle05, @pattson,  @nerd-in-space, @thesides,  @stay-in--place, @ravenclawunicorn1, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @michealawithana, @anotherfandomtrasher , @fandomsofrandom,  @a-deliciouslyfadingcollection, @nightmarejasmine, @xxfoxit, @quoth-the-sparrow, @katatles-the-fish, @misty-the-mysterious, @alyssadashrub, @punkassplonker, @noctisvalex, @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom, @funsizedgremlin, @vigilantvirgill, @nonamefightergirl, @thomasbemyfriend, @starsinger , @milomeepit, @justabookworm39, @shortandfantastic, @thesilentbluesparrow, @royallyanxious, @mirror2thespirit, @coffee-stains-paper-and-ink, @silverrhayn, @mooksie01, @backatthebein, @nye275, @anastasialestina, @callboxkat, @a-lexicon-of-words, @emeraldfoxface,   @peachie-keeen, @llamaly, @witch19,  @heythereprincey, @bring-it-on-perra, @nienna14, @bubblycricket,
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misssquidtracy · 3 years
Text
Noble Intentions (Part 2).
My slightly belated ongoing contribution to Gordo’s FabFiveFeb week. Apparently, this is now going to be a 3 chapter doohickey of sorts. My boi has made it quite clear that any plans I had about length matter very little here.  
All credit for FabFiveFeb goes to the amazing @gumnut-logic 💚
Prompt: You did what?
Warnings: Mild strong language.
Genre: Humour.
Characters: Gordon, Scott, Virgil, John, Alan. Heavy on the Gordon.
-x-
Two months, seventeen hours, and eleven minutes earlier…
“You did what?”
Gordon winced as the mouthful of water Scott had been storing in his cheeks was spat clean across the table.
“What?” the aquanaut challenged, indignation creeping into his voice as he reached across Alan for another spoonful of sweet potato mash, “They were looking for models and I signed us up. It’s for a good cause!”
“A nude calendar?” John quacked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, “Gordon, we’re a professional rescue organisation. We have a public image to maintain!”
“Not to mention better things to be doing with our time,” Virgil grumbled, scraping the last of his peas onto his fork, “What if an emergency call were to come through while we were…ahem…mid-pose?”
A scowl infected Gordon’s face as he metaphorically searched for a metaphorical shovel to metaphorically dig himself out of the metaphorical hole he was metaphorically digging, “I didn’t sign us up for all twelve months. Just our birth months.”
Another mouthful of water was ejected across the table, eliciting a gasp of disgust from John when he discovered that he was sat in the splash zone.
“You signed Alan up as well?” Scott all but squealed, “He’s a minor, Gordon!”
“Okay, okay,” the aquanaut sighed, wincing at the volume of his eldest brother’s voice, “I’ll take his place and do two sittings for both February and March. Problem solved.”
Disbelieving stares were exchanged across the table as Gordon polished off his dinner and traipsed to the sink to refill his glass.
“You’re off your onion!” Scott snapped, striding after the aquanaut and lobbing his plate in the dishwasher with more force than was necessary, “Well, we’re not going. You’ll have to go back on whatever promises you’ve made and cancel everything. And don’t think that order excludes you. International Rescue has a professional behaviour framework that we’re duty-bound to follow, and pasting our naked assess across couches and bales of hay doesn’t feature in it anywhere.”
Water was sloshed across the counter as Gordon rinsed his glass out and tried to contain his frustration. Typical Scott, always so hung up on appearances. He hadn’t even bothered to ask what the calendar was in aid of.
“We’ll send over a generous donation instead,” Scott placated, as if somehow reading Gordon’s mind, “Is it someone we’ve worked with before?”
“Children of Colombia,” Gordon replied, “They operate out of Bogotá and channel all their money into educational programmes and residential homes instead of advertising. That’s why I signed us up. I thought our ‘famous’ faces might help them a bit in that department.”
Moved by his younger brother’s kind hearted gesture, John opened his mouth to ask for more details, only to have his questioning tongue silenced by a glare from Scott.
If there was one thing that always made the eldest Tracy’s emotional kayak run aground, it was guilt.
“Well, they’ll have to make do with a fat-ass cheque instead,” Scott muttered, kicking the dishwasher shut and needlessly throwing a tea towel into the sink, “You can hate me all you want, but I wasn’t the one who made the rules. One day of disappointment isn’t worth us losing all of our credibility, plus our rapid response service would be redundant if all five of us were there at the same time. Nope, you’re going to have to tell them no, Gordon. And if I catch wind of you honouring the agreement beyond the aforementioned fat-ass cheque, I’ll suspend you from active duty for a week. Capisce?”
Without giving the aquanaut a chance to reply, Scott retrieved a banana from the fruit bowl and marched off in the direction of the lounge, his expression reminiscent of a pissed off camel.
“You saw that, right?” Gordon demanded, waiting until Scott was a safe distance away before stabbing a finger accusingly in the direction he’d walked off in, “I was minding my business, and he threatened to ground me! This is all because he knows I’d pull the whole thing off way better than he would.”
Both Virgil and John were smart enough to neither confirm nor deny their younger brother’s claim to nude fame. Alan had questions, oh so many questions, but was thankfully prioritising a text on his phone over his desire to seek answers.
“I’m telling you now,” Gordon continued, abandoning his glass and stomping off towards the pool, “If Poseidon appears before me and asks me to make a blood sacrifice, he’s gone. Gone, I say.”
-x-
“Hello?”
“Gabriela!” Gordon tried to keep his tone as upbeat as possible, “How are things?”
“Mr Tracy!” came the delighted response, “What a lovely surprise! I have some excellent news. We officially sold out of tickets for the International Rescue Calendar Class three days ago and, as a result of popular demand, will now be selling the resultant paintings off at a silent auction to raise money for a tutoring programme aimed at local women fleeing domestic abuse. Our forecasts show that we’re set to exceed our original target by almost eight five percent, and it’s all thanks to you!”
Great.
Lovely.
Wonderful.
Magnifique.
“Yeah, about that,” Gordon began, his tone hesitant, “You see the thing is, I now can’t make it. Something’s popped up and I’m kind of needed here. I’m so sorry.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone, “Okay…well, that’s not ideal. I won’t lie. But I’m sure we’ll be able to make do with four out of five. Which reminds me, do any of your colleagues have any dietary requirements or allergies that my team should be aware of?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t very clear,” Gordon clenched his fist as guilt began to gnaw at his insides, “What I meant to say is that none of us can come anymore. I’m afraid I was impulsive and signed us up before consulting with the rest of my team. I’m so sorry. We will of course compensate you for the losses you’ll incur in the form of a donation, plus an extra twenty five percent on top for the inconvenience caused.”
A silence that somehow managed to hurt Gordon’s ears descended over the line, punctuated by the odd stifled sniff.
“B-But I can certainly send a substitute over in our place,” the aquanaut gabbled, cursing the lack of a link between his brain and mouth, “He’s not an emergency responder per se, but he’s an integral member of the team and the one responsible for designing the Thunderbirds.”
The line crackled to life again as Gordon’s offer refreshed Gabriela’s composure, “Really? Oh, yes please. It’ll be a disappointment to everyone who’s already bought a ticket, but I suppose we haven’t technically misled them so long as there’s at least one representative from International Rescue there.”
“Perfect!” Gordon chirped, setting an immediate course for the hangers, “I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, don’t cancel anything. See you on Friday!”
Of all the brothers, Gordon liked to think of himself as the most strategic when it came to picking his battles. He’d grown up watching Scott, Virgil and John jockeying for position, and had then had Alan to sharpen his own claws on. All in all, being the fourth born wasn’t as bad as it sounded. He’d been exposed to both subservience and dominance in equal measures, and was acutely aware of how far he could push each of his siblings before they tipped into Bitch Fit Canyon.
Alan was a cinch so long as no references were made to his height.
John was manageable if bagels were in the immediate vicinity.
Virgil could be tamed with tears of remorse, fake or genuine.
As for Scott…well, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
TBC.
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themadauthorshatter · 3 years
Text
Let's dive back in.
I'm excited to meet our Million In One man❤
Sanders Sides BEETLEJUICE AU Part 2!!!
We start with Patton working on the model town, especially their own funeral, as Thomas tries dusting around. It's been a few more weeks and they're bored.
Thomas gives up and sits down, asking why there's so much dust, as neither have a body, and why they can't just leave; France is supposed to be really nice this time of year. Patton shrugs, but wonders maybe this house is their heaven.
Thomas smiles at that, though still questions why heaven is so dusty.
Patton hides a smirk and keeps working; "...Reeeasons?"
The two share a laugh and Thomas asks what Patton read in the hand book.
Patton stops his work and passes to book to Thomas, saying he can barely understand it, but maybe Thomas will.
Thomas gives it a go, skimming through the pages, checking for a table of contents, and an index before starting back at page 1; "Like Medical Chemistry all over again."
Cut to Patton as he continues on the model, more specifically the cemetery. We don't hear what Patton's thinking, but we see it on his face; the cemetery isn't big enough, because he didn't plan it out fully, the wreathes for his and Thomas's graves aren't as funeral-esque as he'd like, and he didn't make a different model for Dice, who he's still annoyed with.
He snaps out of it when he hears an, "OH!" from Thomas and asks what's up.
Turns out people usually won't see or hear the dead and Thomas and Patton are TEMPORARILY stuck in the house, but the amount of time isn't specified.
They hear a pair of cars pull up and investigate to see Dice again, who's not in any fancy clothes, but is still in black, and is accompanied by a VERY fancy looking business man.
Our ghost friends wonder what's going on, and get a bad feeling when they see Dice nod and shake hands with the business man.
Patton, however, notices the watch he's wearing and finds a telescope he has, using it to gwt a closer look.
The watch has rubies on it.
Thomas, who's more far sighted, asks what a guy like that is doing in this part of Florida, and pauses when he sees the growing excitement and unease on Patton's face.
They watch the two leave, and see Dice give the house another look and take a flask out of his coat and drink from it before going to his own car.
Thomas continues to watch as Patton leaves the window, leaning the telescope back against the wall.
WHICH MATCH CUTS TO A MAN HANDING A WOMAN A NEWSPAPER. She stares at it and then races away. We're in a studio, specifically in the dressing room/makeup area, it's nothing but controlled chaos, and everyone is fussing, well most at least.
These calm souls are the people painting on and fussing over a man, who we see in quick cuts, one with LOVELY, fluffy, full of volume, red hair, tan, smooth skin, and a body carved by gods, long legs, a thin waist, and lean body, but still muscular(so he's fit, but not buff; he has muscles, but he's still got the body of a ballerina), lovely eyelashes, eyebrows that match his hair, soft lips, ears pierced with roses and ruby studs, and all in all, a painting brought to life.
This, dear fans, followers, and viewers, is Roman Scarlet- now Deetz- and is preparing for his photoshoot, one that requires him to look like a porcelain doll to match with the set.
The idea came from his adopted son, who isn't there.
While we're focused on Roman, we hear a man whistle and compliment him, saying he looks like he was painted in oil and pastels. Roman smirks up at him and reminds him that he knows, because he's already said it.
Remy Deetz, his husband, shares a smirk and almost kisses him, almost because he stops himself-much to Roman's confusion- and says he's not allowed to distract anyone while they work, including Roman.
Remy looks the same as he usually is, but his hair's darker, just saying that now.
Everyone stops as we see the well dressed man from before, being Roman's agent.
Roman greets him quite warmly and asks what brings him and how his excursion went.
The agent reveals it went well and he's got good news AND bad news, so which would Roman like to hear first? Roman would like the former, please and thank you.
Good news: the house he's interested in is up for grabs and, seeing as how he's placed the highest bid on it, is as good as his.
Roman rejoices at this excellent news, clapping his hands and being a happy boy, before askimg what the bad news is.
The girl we saw pushes her way in and hands Roman the newspaper as his agent also delivers the bad news.
The house is up for sale because the original owners are dead, having drowned in a car accident. And unless Roman wants rumors to arise of him killing the two for the house, he'd better wait for a little while.
Roman has the wind knocked out of him, and asks how long they died.
A month.
After a moment, and a glance to Remy, Roman asks if he can still put a down payment on the house.
He can, but, again, he can't move in for a while.
Roman accepts thise terms; it's lighter on his conscious and still lets him have the house.
TIME JUMP A MONTH OR TWO AHEAD AND CUT TO THOMAS AND PATTON!
They're asleep in bed, and we get a ghost gag of Patton hogging the blanket and revealing a floating Thomas, who wakes up and falls down with a yelp.
Patton wakes up, too, but it's because there was a loud BANG that happened just as Thomas hit the floor.
He asks how high Thomas was to fall that hard, as Thomas asks Patton if he heard that BANG, especially one that happens again.
They quickly leave their room and see moving men enter the living room, and haphazardly shove a couch on a roller until it hits the stair railing.
Remy races over and tells them to please try being a little more careful becasue this is country craftsmanship, not city hocus pocus.
Roman slinks in and takes in the house he'd wanted so much, admitting it wasn't what he'd expected, but one of the owners was a small interior designer, so what was he expecting in the first place?
Thomas, from his place next to Patton on the upper level, gapes at the comment, very much offended as Roman goes back outside to examine the exterior.
Thomas wonders if Dice had a point, but Patton squeals at the fact that Cardinal Rose is in their house. Thomas isn't as enthused, mainly because 1. They can't talk to him, 2. He can't see them, and 3. Dice SOLD this house to him after the two had just died.
Patton is discouraged, but still smiles with Thomas that there's a celebrity in their house.
Thomas smiles with him and they have a fanboy moment, holding hands, squealing and giggling, and jumping with excitement; happiness now, stress later.
Cut to Roman outside as he scrutinizes the area. There's no fence or no gate to keep any intruders out. Not even a garden to make it pretty, at least.
His looking brings him to his car, and looks inside, his look of, 'what can I fix about this?' becoming a mix of disappointment and frustration.
"We'll be here for a little while, the LEAST you could do is come out and look at it."
He sighs and walks away, but we focus on the car as the back passenger door opens and reveals a boy.
He's a petite little thing, a young teenager between 13 and 16, kind of cat-like, but has that 'angry cat' look to him. He's got bags under his eyes, a slight scowl on his face, and is dressed in black. His hair is extremely cleverly dyed, black on top, where everyone can see, but purple underneath, which we see as he runs his hands through his hair.
He stares at the house with a mix of sorrow and indifference, muttering that they're now the Addams Family, maybe a little worse.
Remy calls for the boy, our emo himself Virgil, and asks him to be a dear and take his luggage inside and look for a room he wants; there's five bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms, so there's a lot to pick.
Virgil remarks that he'll try not to invade the master bedroom, because that's undoubtedly going to be Remy's and Roman's room, and trudges toward the house, Remy ruffling his hair.
Remy watches Virgil before turning to Roman, who's standing and doing his best thinking face.
Remy wraps his arms around Roman from behind and asks for his opinion. Roman gives it to him flat: he wants to change the house. Remy gives him a withering look and Roman stipulates it will be just a few things, nothing major. Maybe take down a wall or two and put them somewhere else, maybe some paint, just things that will make this house their home.
Remy politely asks him not to, because this house belonged to someone else and shouldn't be torn up, but Roman reiterates: not the whole house. Just a couple things and then it can be hone. And he dares Remy to say the house is perfect as is, because it's not. He's just trying to make Roman and Virgil comfortable and he knows it.
Remy admits that he DOES want Roman and Virgil to feel at home and there are a few touch-ups that can be made, but this house wasn't even theirs to begin with, so they shouldn't change up too much.
Roman, quite solemnly, states that the house is theirs now and the owners aren't coming back, not when they're in a better place.
Comedic cut to Patton and Thomas as they sit and watch the moving madness unfold, right in their house. Virgil slips in, and catches Patton's attention.
Virgil looks around as Remy and Roman return.
Remy asks what the teen thinks of their new home. Virgil looks over at Roman, who's judging again, and murmurs that he(Roman) probably hates it. He spots a spider on the stairs railing, like between the rungs, and admits he could live here, letting the spider crawl onto his hand.
Remy walks over to an armchair and takes a seat, taking a breath and checking his watch. He doesn't know about Virgil and Roman, but it's only been twenty minutes and he already feels at home. Roman muses, "Good for you," and notices the kitchen, sighing at how that, at least, is acceptable and something he's probably not majorly changing, maybe he can even get into cooking, like he's been trying. As he walks up the stairs, Virgil calls about, quite bitterly, about how great it is that cooking is another thing Roman's good at.
Roman walks to the beginning of the stairs and dares Virgil to repeat that, though Remy calls for them both to leave each other alone; even though the comment was a little rude, Virgil's still nervous, and new to Roman's lifestyle, and needs time to adjust, and moving around a lot does not help with that. Roman counters that he's nervous too, but that doesn't mean he's going to be a sourpuss and snap at anyone who passes by.
Patton and Thomas try to ignore the argument, but are appalled by the fact that Dice gave their house to these people. Patton wonders why they even moved, if they hate it in this part of Florida. Thomas groans that they're probably from the city and probably want to use the land for making more condos and apartment buildings. Patton asks if Remy's a writer, though, and Thomas leans to his side until he falls to the floor, groaning how both their idols are selfish and insufferable. Patton rubs his arm as Virgil walks by.
The two catch a glimpse of each other, though it's in slow motion(nothing but TV perspective in this series), Patton giving a confused look as to why a teen would wear so much black in the Florida summer and Virgil having his own confusion be because he thought the house was empty before they moved in, the owners are dead, after all.
Before Roman and Remy can really go at it, someone walks through the door and muses that despite the change of scenery, Roman hasn't changed at all, being dramatic and lovely, as always. His entrance catches everyone's attention, though Virgil hightails it into room hunting.
Remy rolls his eyes as Roman squeals with joy as he hugs his friend, Janus, a golden blond who displays a tattoo on the side of his face to hide his scar, has gotten his ear on the same side cropped so it's sharp, and looks almost as impressive as Roman, though he slays in a plain black suit and yellow dress shirt.
The two hug and Roman barely contains his excitement at the fact his friend came all the way from the city to see him.
Janus returns the gesture and is glad to see Roman too, because this place, in its current state, will not do, and it's a good thing Remy's a best seller, because they're renovating big time.
Roman gives a glance to Remy and says that the house itself is fine, he just wants to make small-ish changes.
Thomas quickly sits up just as Virgil opens one of the bedroom doors, Thomas shouting and Virgil calling out, "Knocking down a wall and throwning paint on it is not a small change!"
Roman harshly shushes and gestures for Virgil to go away, but Janus shakes his head; guess Virgil hasn't changed either.
Patton pulls Thomas back and asks what they're going to do, because he can't tell if this is paradise or punishment.
Thomas shrugs and replies that he's not sure, but knows they can't stop them, seeing as how no one can see them, but that sets off a light bulb in both their heads and they turn to each other.
Both have been reading the handbook, and there's a word for thise in their situation, a word that makes them smile and foght to contain another hit of excitement:
Ghosts.
With a laugh, forhead touch, and quick kiss, they get to work.
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misericordia21 · 4 years
Text
Fun Facts No One Asked For /Devil May Cry/
1) I just wanna say *insert excited classical musician*, to add some of the epicness to Virgil’s already cool theme song Bury the Light, the part between 4.00 and 4.28 includes a series of musical intervals called tritones, which sound with an opening dissonance long described in music theory as "Diabolus in Musica" ("The Devil in Music"). Very tasteful of them to also mix modern bassline with classical gothic sound of clear strings. Extremely Vergil-like. 
2) Also! Something that’s more well-known at this point, but still super cool — the violin piece that V plays as a taunt, Caprice No.24, is by Niccolo Paganini who was thought to have sold his soul to the devil. Main rumors at the time of Paganini’s life (1782–1840) explaining his virtuosity was that he (or his mother) had made a pact with the devil. Rumors were so widespead that the Church refused to give him a Catholic burial. Due to his inexplicable dexterity and talent, and his tall, thin, gaunt appearance, he was given the nickname "Der Hexensohn," or "The Witch's Son." He was also called the "Son of the Devil." Not only another *devil* pun of CAPCOM, but also an insinuation that Vergil is very likely fond of classical music/plays the violin.
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bonsaiiiiiii · 3 years
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FabFiveFeb 2021 - Virgil week (2)
prompts: a question, “I don’t understand”
ok, here we are with part 2 of this lil ficlet! thanks to all the people that supported the first part, that you can find here. a special thank you to all the people that supported it recently, such as @nourelle-tracy, @louthestarspeaker, @gumnut-logic, @weirdburketeer, @janetm74, @lenna-z, @cg29 and many more that liked my fic! here’s the part 2 you’ve been waiting for!
^naturally, please read below^
Virgil woke up, massaging his forehead and eyes. There was a lot of light in there. He looked at the white above him, noting that that was definitely not the Tracy Island glass ceiling. He couldn’t even hear the voices of his brothers.
He tried to sit down, but the moment he touched the floor retracted his hand as if he had burned himself. It was cold, and...soft, and...white. He looked around, noticing an endless expanse of snow. A white sky and a snowy ground. He sat down, looking better around, and was able to see snowy trees, a cabin.. and an avalanche raging in his direction.
Frightened, he covered his head with his arms, his eyes shut and his breath unsteady, waiting for the impact. Nothing. He listened, and only at that moment he realized that there was no noise. That deafening noise of snow that he remembered well...all too well. He first opened an eye, then closed it, then opened them both, looking in the direction of the avalanche that was suspended in the air, still, motionless, with his hands still on his head. It looked like a tsunami wave, and the snow making dust all around looked like clouds. He took his arms off his head, holding them in front of him, then he stood up. Strangely it was all familiar to him.
"It won’t hurt you." a sweet, harmonious, but still faint voice, reached the ears of Virgil, who turned his head immediately in the direction of its source.
"Mom?" He stopped to look at that figure standing there, as if she had never died. She wore a white dress, looked like a cloud, or perhaps a Greek goddess, and a veil, attached to the woman’s ring fingers, fluttered all around that angelic figure, her black hair voluminous. She didn’t even look real to him.
"You shouldn’t be here." she said in a hurry, her serious expression, the pain visible behind her turquoise eyes.
"But..." Virgil approached slowly, step by step. "...what is this place?" Without noticing he was already in front of the woman.
"This is the place where you will wait."
"Wait for what? I don’t understand!" Virgil asked, and then he was silenced by a sudden sound. He instinctively watched the avalanche, which continued to remain suspended in the air.
'Entering...fibrillation...' Virgil heard a distant voice, a male voice. He could not connect it to any of his brothers. Then a monitor, like those in the hospital, made a horrible noise. The noise of a heart without a heartbeat. Then a deep bang. 'Again...' the voice again. Again the bang.
"You shouldn’t be here!" Lucille repeated. "You have to go back."
In a moment Virgil understood the situation. But..." No."
"But the others need you. Your brothers..."
"I’m sure Scott and John will get away with it. I want to be here with you."
"And your dad?"
"Dad will be the first one to get away without me. He’s building a space station with Brains." Still that empty noise, still that male voice. "I want to stay with you. You left too soon..."
"I know...but it’s not what you think, Virgil." Lucille gently placed her hands on his shoulder. Wait, was he ever that small? "Please, do it for me. I know you don’t want to, but come back, baby. Live your life for me too."
"But I’m only 15 years old. What great life can I live without you? You just left!" Virgil sobbed, trying to dry his face with his black sweatshirt.
"Don’t think about that. Just think about my voice. Close your eyes and listen to me, baby. Think about coming back to life. Promise me."
Virgil looked at her, her face clouded with tears. She smiled at him, nodding her head. He sighed, and then nodded in turn. "I promise. I will miss you..."
"I know...but don’t think about how I died anymore. Just think about the good memories we all had together." Lucille held her son in a long embrace. Her mother was so warm...it seemed that she had never died...
Virgil closed his eyes, and Lucille began to sing a sweet melody, her voice as beautiful as the notes of the piano he occasionally played after school.
The deafening noise disappeared, but the melody remained etched in his mind, as if his mother was still singing it. Now, instead of that fixed, empty noise, there was a sound...of beats. That meant he was alive, wasn’t it? So, if he had opened his eyes now...
And in fact he opened them, seeing only darkness before him. Then was this the world out there? So ugly and empty? He wanted to see beyond, but he realized he was being held by something. His mother’s voice was still echoing in his mind... He tried to wiggle himself out, almost immediately succeeding and noticing that what obscured his sight was nothing more than a female chest. The melody stopped being heard.
Virgil looked up, over him...and realized that his mother was looking back at him, the eyes of both widened in surprise.
"Mom...? You told me I was going back..." Virgil whispered, confused.
"Well..." Lucille was speechless. She expected his son to return safely to his body. She thought for a second, coming to the conclusion that... "If you’re here it means you’re not out of danger yet, but you’re alive! Your heart beats!" her hand shifted from his shoulder to his chest, raised in feeling her baby’s heartbeat. "Do you feel it?" She took his hand, making him carry it on his chest. She was moved.
Virgil smiled. "I feel it, Mom! But shouldn’t I have gone back?"
"Yes. It means you still have to wait a little while before you go home. But what matters is that you’re alive."
"Oh..."
"I’m sorry..." she said, removing a lock of hair from his forehead. The hair he inherited from her.
"Mom...I’m a little tired now..." Virgil found himself rubbing his eyes with one hand, and in Lucille’s eyes he still looked like a child. For her, even if the Virgil in front of her was that of his now 27 years old instead of his 15 years old self she would still see him as a child. Even if he was 80. If only she didn’t die so soon...
"Rest here, on my lap." Lucille said, sitting on the ground and lightly patting her knees. Virgil didn't want her to repeat it twice, lying down immediately, the snow that wet his pants even if he didn't really mind, as long as he was with his mother. He closed his eyes immediately...
...and reopened them shortly thereafter. Now, in that white sky that he expected to find once he opened his eyes, there was some ray of sun that seeped through the clouds and sparkled the snowflakes, as if it were raining glitter. He liked it. He was still in his mother’s lap, but she looked far...in the direction of the avalanche which was now sure to have been the cause of her death.
"I didn’t get too much sleep, did I?" he mumbled, his voice small.
Lucille turned her attention away from what she was looking at, looking down at her son. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, before smiling at him affectionately. "Nah...you only slept 10 years."
"Eh?" he exclaimed, leaping to the perch.
Lucille also stood up, patting away the snow from her dress. "I have to admit, that shirt doesn’t look bad on you." She added, and then took a step forward and took a flap of his shirt, inspecting the red-check lumberjack style and traveling with her eyes from the collar to the last button. She then took his shoulder, making him turn and looking better.
Virgil found himself blushing and stumbling on his own feet, embarrassed. He didn’t say anything, though, because when would something like that ever happen to him again? Sure, Grandma used to do that with all five of them every time one of them bought a new shirt, but if that gesture that came from his mother it meant something else entirely.
Lucille made him turn again so she could find his red face looking at hers. She gestured for him to lower himself, and he obeyed timidly. "Ah, I used to do your hair that way!" she exclaimed happily, removing some rebellious lock from his forehead and marveling at how much gel was on his head. "When you went to bed..." then she stopped.
"Continue..." Virgil implied, a silent pleading.
"When you were younger you always had your hair ruffled. You have so much of it, and yours is also very thick. When we used to take you to the barber, the cut he made only lasted as long as you got out of there. Look, bring some firewood to light the fireplace in, will you? You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out here in the snow..." She diverted the speech, pointing to the wooden pile next to the cabin. That cabin that used to be their mountain house, and then got sold as soon as possible once they got back to the Ranch with one less person.
Virgil nodded, though he did not feel any cold. Lucille briefly entered the house, a small strip of smoke emerging from the chimney after a few minutes, a sign that the fire was lit. She came out shortly after. "I lit the sticks and bark; do not take too big wood, now is not needed. Anyway, I used to say that because of your thick hair no hairstyle fit you, and then I really liked seeing you with your hair on one side, like you do now." She continued to tell, raising her voice a little while Virgil picked out some thin sticks to carry inside. "You, on the other hand, had a time when you liked all of Scott’s hairstyles and copied them."
He chuckled in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes, yes! When Jeff took you to the family barber, you always wanted what Scott did too. You were 4, more or less. I remember one time when Scott had his hair dyed blue..."
He turned, wood in his hand. "Uhm?" Then he brought it in, while Lucille followed him closing the door behind him.
"You know those colored hair gels? The ones you wash off with a wash? Even if it wasn’t enough...we were damned to remove the blue spots that formed on your brother’s linings!" Lucille was very talkative, and she always had the gift of finding a topic to talk about; this feature was passed on to Gordon, but Alan was also a bit like her. Scott and John instead took after their father: less chatter, more actions. And Virgil...was a mixture of both.
"Yeah, I remember...he was seven or eight at the time." Virgil responded, carefully inserting the wood into the large stone fireplace to revive the fire.
"That’s it. Well, he did this once, and you liked his hair so much that you wanted to do it yourself, naturally green. So you and Jeff went to the barber, only that..." she stopped to smile, a very pleasant memory.
Virgil sat down to look at her, waiting for her to continue and trying to remember at the same time.
"When you came home, you were in tears. You clung to me crying and screaming that your hair wasn’t like mine anymore, and since that day, you haven’t listened to what Scott was doing, following your personal tastes a bit." Lucille sat down in front of the chimney, telling Virgil to approach her.
"I understand." he replied, crouching next to her, the wood crackling in the chimney. "Listen...I have a question."
"Only one?" she giggled.
"Well...no." He admitted smiling, to then get back serious.
"What do you want to know?"
"I really want to tell you so much..."
"From the start, baby."
"Do you miss Dad? Do you miss us?"
Lucille wasted no time answering. "Always." Then she sensed what Virgil wanted to ask her again. "I don’t regret having planned the holiday here."
Virgil looked at her, surprised but in a negative way. "No?"
"No. Never. I was glad to see you all having fun together. I’m just sorry things had to go this way." she stopped talking. "But you know what they say, don’t you? Historia magistra vitae. If it happened, it means it had to be this way."
Virgil nodded, not too convinced. "Anyway, I’m starting to remember...Dad isn’t there anymore either. He’s gone." His eyes got sadder and sadder.
Lucille remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"I have to help my brothers. They're on their own, and without me...Scott might lose control."
"You saw that, too, didn’t you?"
"Yeah. He can’t do anything without me, the stupid. Not even to calm down."
Lucille smiled sweetly. "Maybe...but as long as you love him. You love them."
"How do I get back?"
"I don’t know how to answer that." Both were interrupted by a rather familiar voice.
"Speak of the devil..." Virgil said, listening to Scott’s voice, as silent as whenever one of his brothers got hurt. He was praying for Virgil.
(lol imagine not ending the chapter on a cliffhanger, can’t relate eheh. but worry not, here’s the 3 letters you were expecting!)
TBC
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anxiouslyfred · 4 years
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Selling a Soulmate
Completely Inspired by this post from @writing-prompt-s and @chaos-by-all-means
Pattons sells Virgil’s soul to a demon, that demon and their soulmate are extremely angry when they don’t find Patton while following the soul connection. Virgil just got 2 new demonic soulmates of Deceit and Remus
/\/\/\/\/\
Patton thought it was all for the best, after all Virgil constantly made jokes about wanting to die, or just going to hell for more continuous torture as if that’s all he had in life. They’d been soulmates for years and he still couldn’t get Virgil to stop.
So he was selling a soul to a demon, for the chance to look after his family and friends, to actually be the perfect dad friend to them all and make them feel better, face the struggles of the world down and keep standing too. If that meant Virgil actually would be destined for hell now, well those jokes always did seem to serious to Patton.
Deceit and Remus had always known that soulmates had some ownership over each others souls, and could in fact bargain each others souls when making deals. No demon had ever heard of that actually happening.
Then they followed the soul link that came from Deceit’s deal with the human Patton to find someone neither had seen ever before.
“You’re definitely Patton.” Deceit was glaring between the strand of connection and the man, curled on his bed in a hoodie and clutching a letter.
“Apparently so, given his letter is only saying that all those jokes I make about going to hell can come true as I wished. Who the fuck actually wishes something like that and what the hell does he mean? If it’s a break up letter then that’s one hell of away to tell your fucking soulmate they’re dumped.” The man barely even looks up, tears brimming even as he glares at the page.
“Soulmates? I mean I do some twisted things with the souls I get from deals but that’s dark.” Remus comments quietly, knowing his pairing with Deceit is unusual since most demons ignore any compulsions to their soulmates and that he technically shouldn’t even be there.
Deceit just moves closer to the bed. “What’s your name, Patton’s soulmate?”
“If he didn’t tell you when he invited you in that’s even more stupid. I’m Virgil but whatever.” Virgil does glance up at the two people, barely taking any of their appearance in before turning to grab a robot plush toy. “Logan always used to warn that Patton only understood his brand of puns and would take my dark jokes too seriously after a while. Who are you?”
Deceit turns to share a heavy look with Remus, deciding if the words they want to say will be echoed but Remus is already moving to take the letter from Virgil’s hands.
“We’re your new soulmates, Remus and Deceit. Not sure what nonsense Patton’s been writing but it’s this weird rare quirk thing that can happen.” The explanation makes no sense, a lot of the things Remus starts without thinking through don’t really, but at least this time he’s on the same page as Deceit.
“In a manner of speaking at least, we are indeed your new soulmates. I was hoping to be able to take you out this evening, but if you need time to process what ever Patton wrote to you we understand.” Deceit’s words are smooth, offering but not demanding and they’re only hoping the rage that’s going through them isn’t showing in their eyes.
Virgil had looked to Deceit as Remus moved and while part of him wanted to believe them and relax, he could see fury waiting to burst out of Remus, especially as he read the letter, and there were small echoes of anger in the one called Deceit too. “You wouldn’t be angry if some weird quirk had given you a new soulmate. Why should I trust you when I can still only feel the connection to Patton?”
The mention of his anger is enough to set Remus off, unleashing a hundred attacks to the walls, windows and door to the room, form shifting as his fury is too much to remain consistently human now it’s being released. Deceit had made to intervene then, but all they could do was stay on the bed and keep Virgil there too.
Virgil is shying away from them both at the change, recognising Remus as so many creatures he’d read conspiracies about over the years, and wishing he’d never spoken. He doesn’t feel at threat, but he feels terrified.
Four hours ago he had woken up to Patton’s clothes emptied from the cupboards and a letter that left him feeling like the world was ending, like the anxiety Patton had insisted countless times wouldn’t change his love had driven his soulmate away finally. He’d felt confused and heartbroken.
Half an hour ago Patton had called him, laughing and making puns all around wishes coming true. Virgil hadn’t understood why or how someone could call his self-deprecating jokes wishes anymore then than he had while reading the letter, but knew Logan had said something about it before. The mention that Virgil should expect a guest had only confused him more.
Now there were two beings, basically strangers, trying to claim they were his new soulmates and destroying the room. Nothing felt safe and everything seemed likely to kill him or suck out his soul and leave his body just a husk. He wanted to fight and scream but couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could barely think as one stranger tried to shield him on the bed while the other raged.
A whimper breaking through Virgil’s lips finally calmed the storm. Remus flipping on a dime, from raging to comforting, but keeping his distance now. “Darling, if you’ll have us, we will be your new soulmates, far better than Patton ever was.”
“But you’re demons.” Virgil can only assume both of them are demons, despite Deceit still looking completely human. Why else would they be talking for each other?
Deceit just nods, wanting to twist words but knowing that blunt honesty would help them more in this moment. “And I had your soul sold to me. Technically, if I wanted I could easily make it truth when Remus says you’re now our soulmate, and given that I cannot believe even the most selfish person would do what Patton has done, I’m sorely tempted to.”
“That’s what he meant by my jokes about going to hell being wishes that come true?” More tears and pain hit Virgil then as he realises that not only had Patton broken up with him, he’d literally sold him, and whatever was brought couldn’t be equal to what Virgil had thought they had.
The creature, whatever he was now was leaning over to Virgil, a limb he didn’t want to identify wiping the tears away before they fell. “Let us court you Sweet thing. We’ll be your soulmates now.”
Virgil’s life and his room were suddenly in shambles where the day before he’d thought things could be improving. He’d been abandoned and learnt that abandonment included getting sold. He’d already spent the day crying but here were two beings, two demons who while they definitely had violent reactions showed no chance of them being directed at him. 
Nothing seemed real and everything seemed doomed and Virgil could almost hear Logan telling him not to make life changing decisions when emotionally compromised but his friend wasn’t there then. His friend had been unable to comfort him when Virgil had called up to ask for help after first reading the letter.
Looking at Deceit,still kneeling on the bed and looking at Remus, slowly regaining a more humanoid form, Virgil nodded. “Okay, yes, if - if that’s - if you actually mean it when you say you want me as a soulmate despite being such a fuck up even Patton couldn’t stay with me, you can do that, just let me keep Logan, let me keep whatever friends won’t expect me to be around someone who sold me.”
“Come here, Raindrop. I’ll make you ours now.” Deceit just nods, gathering Virgil into their arms while bringing their powers to the surface. Changing the binds of soulmates could be difficult, but Virgil’s was already weakened, first by Patton using it to sell a soul that wasn’t his and now by Virgil’s own honest agreement. Their eyes beaming golden yellow and the scales shining through their form were all the outward signs that anything changed, but Virgil gasping as the connection changed from one of a brought soul to a soulmate was warming.
Deceit has accepted a deal for ‘a soul’ precisely once, and he got a new soulmate from it. Ever since then Remus and they have been precise in wording every deal for the persons specific soul. If someone wants to sell their soulmate then they’ll have to find a different demon.
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stillebesat · 3 years
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Christmas Eve (4/5)
Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, Frogmin!Virgil, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk, Human-ish Creatures kept as Pets Taglist in Reblog
To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Roman regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.
The Dameon he knew could spin the truth like a top. His stories sounding so believable that even now, years later, Roman still had very little idea what he actually knew about his Ex...besides the fact that he was a slimy no good lying viper. If he wanted to get a Frogmin for his kid, then Roman was sure Dameon could point to any cage on the shelf, and despite Roman’s years of experience, convince him that whatever cage he picked would be perfectly adequate to hold the Frogmin. 
Oh Crofters, would the Frogmin they picked out be okay going home with them?! He couldn’t remember Dameon being cruel to animals, but the guy had never shown an interest in them either. Sure, Pattey seemed sweet enough but if Dameon was his actual dad then what if it was all just an act. What if--
Dameon huffed, running his fingers through his curly hair, messing it up in a way that Roman had never seen him do when they’d been together. He straightened, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes as he slipped a hand in his pocket, moving a couple of steps down the aisle to give his kid some space to interact with the Frogmins without them hovering.
Reluctantly Roman followed, his attention split between ensuring Pattey wouldn’t reach into the cage and terrorize the Frogmins...and watching his Ex’s every move.
“You and I both know that I could just point to a random cage and convince you I’d bought it elsewhere, but I hope that the picture I took will be more than enough proof that I have the proper setup?” He asked, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it before holding it out to him.
Well...pictures could be faked….but considering Dameon had obviously not expected to see him here...would he have gone so far as to fake a photo? It was possible. He’d done it before to fake several incidents at college parties they’d gone to...but a cage for a new pet for his son? Who would think to fake that? 
Roman exhaled. No. He’d think himself in circles until well past midnight if he tried to read too far inbetween the lines. It was Christmas Eve. Dameon wanted a Frogmin for his son and Pattey seemed genuinely excited to have one. It had to be the truth. He had to believe that. 
For now.
“If you’ve bought some dinky little hamster cage, Dae, I’m not letting you leave here with any creature until you have a proper setup.” He said, taking the phone from him.
Dameon’s eyes flashed, his mouth quirking up in a half smile as he glanced over to his son who’d somehow managed to cox basically every Frogmin in the cage closer to him. 
Impressive for a child. It must be those soft honey eyes.  
“I did do some research beforehand.” 
“You know can’t trust everything on Google right?” Roman asked as he zoomed in on the image of the kid, Pattey, standing next to a cage as tall as he was. He had to admit. It was a nice setup. Not the most expensive home for a Frogmin he’d seen, but it was a good middling sort of cage. Multilevel, plenty of foliage, there was even a mister visible from the side to keep the place humid. 
“I did ask multiple store employees as well...but I got differing answers.” 
Typical. Ask more than one person and you’d get more than one answer. Still. It looked like Dae had managed to get the proper stuff. “What sort of pond do you have within? A bowl?” People always tried to use cheap tupperware to make a pond for their Frogmins, but it never worked out well in the long run. 
Dameon scoffed, taking his phone back, fidgeting with it as he turned his head away to stare at a nearby cage of little Nagas. “As if. It’s a filtered thing. Not a waterfall, I couldn’t risk the splashing, but it has running water. Fresh. Takes up half of the floor of the cage, the rest is moss and dirt.” 
Huh. Despite his reluctance to give his Ex any credit...he really hadn’t done half bad. Roman crossed his arms. “Hideout?”
Dameon shrugged. “There’s a rock cave on the ground, a wooden one higher up, and Pattey had me grab a moss hammock four stores ago. Just in case.” 
Four? “....And just how many stores have you been to today?” On Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t he be like...going to some big fancy party or something? Or…at least getting ready for Santa’s arrival? 
Dameon grimaced, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Fifteen.” He admitted, keeping his attention firmly on the cage in front of him. 
Roman whistled. Talk about dedication. “Ouch.” 
“Mmm.” His fingers twitched as he glanced to his son, wearing that half smile of his. “No one else in a hundred and fifty miles has them.” 
Roman’s eyebrows shot up. A hundred and FIFTY miles? Dude. Good news. It meant there was a low chance of him ever having to encounter his Ex again after tonight if he drove this far. But Dude. He drove this far? For his son? The Dameon he knew wouldn’t have gone through half as much effort. He would have convinced someone else to do all the work for him instead and then take the credit. 
“Talk about a Hail Mary then coming all the way out here without calling first.” Especially since his store was closing like...right now. “The Mythical Mins have been quite popular this year. You’re lucky my store had the foresight to quadruple our orders.” 
“I did try calling.” Dameon said, holding out a hand to the Nagamins, a flash of wistfulness crossing his face as he watched the minis leisurely slither about within. “After the first two failures...I called the next--oh, six?” He grimaced. “Those who actually answered assured me that they had them in stock--only for us to find that they’d sold out by the time we showed up. I stopped calling after that point. Just looked up the next pet store and drove.”
Wow. That was--- “I didn’t think you’d ever be so persistent. Especially for some kid.” Wait. Roman blanched. That came out so wrong--
Dameon’s eyes flashed with all too familiar anger as he whirled to him, his hands clenching. “He’s not some kid, Roman, he’s my son. And as cliche as it is...I would move heaven and earth to make him happy.” 
Roman jerked his hands up. “I didn’t mean--” Yeesh. And he was hoping to avoid triggering Dameon’s temper. He just hadn’t expected his Ex to be...that protective. Of course, he just hadn’t ever seemed the type to...settle down either. “That came out wrong.” His words were usually wrong in some fashion when Dameon was present. “Honestly, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t.” 
Dameon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, the anger unexpectedly vanishing as quickly as it had sparked. “The eyes right?” He raised a hand to his own golden ones.
“Well...yah. They’re practically the same.” Unfortunately. Though on the kid it was cute instead of terrifying. 
He dropped his hand. “Yah...well you saw it quicker than I did.” He looked back to Pattey. 
Roman blinked. “Wait. You--”
Dameon huffed, shaking his head. “It took me...a bit...to believe he was mine.” He said in a low voice.
Roman scoffed “You saw his eyes and you didn’t--weren’t you expecting him?! Weren’t you there for his birth?”  Hadn’t Dameon just said he would move heaven and earth for the kid? He would have thought--
His Ex ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further before he gestured to himself. “Do I look like--No. I--I’d--I’m---” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how I was, Ro--I didn’t--” 
Was. Roman raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard Dameon stutter this much since...well, their first meeting. “And you were always so eloquent.” Flowery words, hidden meanings, barbed compliments. He’d lost more sleep to figuring out just what Dameon had actually said to him and what potential meanings his words held during college than he ever had over studying for finals. 
Dameon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 
“Make me.”
Those were fighting words, Roman knew. 
Yet his Ex didn’t rise to the bait. He hunched his shoulders, visibly taking a deep breath before relaxing his hands. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve chan--” He cut off grimacing.
“....You’ve changed.” He’d heard that particular phrase a dozen times in college. Yet this time...it seemed just a tad more...believable. 
 Dameon exhaled, giving a slight shake of his head before meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to be a better person...and even if I wasn’t,” he gestured to his son, “I would much rather walk out of here with a Frogmin than without one for his sake.” 
Wouldn’t any parent? At least the ones who wanted to prevent a meltdown. Roman tilted his head to the boy. “He is a cute kid.” Despite who his Father was. 
“He is.” Daemon said, that fond half smile appearing on his lips again without any sign of the malice Roman was familiar with. “Some days...I wonder how I got so lucky.” 
Yah...karma had obviously gotten mixed signals there. 
Mentally Roman kicked himself. And that was how he’d end up getting the three Christmas ghosts visiting him tonight. Sure. He was still obviously bitter about his Ex. But he knew people could change. Just because he couldn’t picture Dameon being a good Dad, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Not when the apparent proof was standing right before him. “Well...it seems like Fatherhood has done you some good.” 
Red tinged Janus’s cheeks as he raised a single eyebrow. “Is it really that hard to believe? That I could be a good dad?”
Had he ever looked back on their college years? The list of why he wouldn’t be a good dad could easily fill three books. 
But. Roman tilted his hand back and forth. “I only ever knew Liar Dae.” He said simply. 
There was still a chance he was still talking to him right now, though from what he’d seen so far he’d like to believe otherwise.  
Dameon grimaced. “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Right. I--” 
“DADDY!! PRINCEY!!!” Pattey squealed as he rushed towards them, his hands held up high to show them a tiny figure with purple and black spots hanging on to his fingers for dear life. “I GOT MY FROGMIN!”
Roman blinked, mouth dropping open as he recognized the rebelliously reclusive Frogmin who had sworn over a year ago that he would never go home with any human.
“Virgil?” He whispered taking a half step forward as Dameon dropped to his knees in time to catch his son before he could run face first into their legs. 
“He picked me, Daddy!!” He picked me!” Pattey cried, practically vibrating with excitement as Dae quickly brought his hands up to surround his son’s, keeping the little emo Frogmin from being jostled further. 
“That’s great, Pat!” His Ex said as his cool golden eyes gave the Frogmin a once over, his fingers twitching on his son’s hands. 
Roman made a soft sound in the back of his throat as the Frogmin hissed, ducking down out of sight. 
Yah. That was Virgil alright. The hiss was his trademark sound after he’d learned it from Roman’s own Min, Logan. But why would he come out of his dark little corner to--how had Pattey even convinced him?! Roman himself had tried every trick in the book to warm the dark and stormy emo of a Frogmin up to the idea of being owned by a human.
Nothing had worked.
Though Roman couldn’t remember ever offering spiders as a bribe before. Was that honestly all that it would have taken? A different food source? 
“Virgil?” He asked again, biting his lip as his voice elicited another hiss from the Min and the unwelcome attention of his Ex. 
Dameon looked up, eyes flashing. “Is there a problem?” He asked in such a Karen tone that Roman automatically bristled at it. 
“Ye--No? NO!” He said slashing his hand across his chest in denial. 
Dameon huffed, his hands remaining steady on Pattey’s as he half turned to him, giving him the look. “Roman.” 
Roman glowered at his name, baring his teeth in what could barely be called a smile. “I said, NO, Dameon.” He said working to keep his tone even and obviously failing by how his eyes sharpened. “It’s just that Virgil’s never wanted to go home with anyone before. I’m--” Worried. Surprised. Concerned. Curious. The list could go on forever. He knew Virge after all. And there had been plenty of kids just like Pattey -besides the golden eyes- who’d wanted Frogmins before and Vee had never shown himself to them.
A variety of emotions flashed across Dameon’s face too fast for him to process as his Ex tilted his head, staring at him in such a way that Roman was sure he was analyzing every word he used and movement he’d made. “Worried he won’t be a good fit?” He asked, his tone more mild than Roman had been expecting as he dropped his hands from his son’s, though he could hear a hint of bitterness to it.
He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But--- Roman exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he held out his other hand, tilting it back and forth. “Honestly...Virgil probably likes me about as much as I like you.” He said, watching as Dameon winced.  
“And that means...?”
What else did Dae expect him to say? Their relationship had been toxic. Before ten minutes ago, Roman would have said that all he felt for Dameon was utmost hatred.
Now though? 
It was...it was all so muddled. He was seeing a side of Dae that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know what to think. “Soo--” 
“It means we’ll be besties!!” Patton cried, honey eyes positively lighting up as he bounced in place, eliciting another hiss from the Frogmin. “I’ll be the Prince and Virgil will be the Dragon Witch and together we’ll defeat the evil Aaraog and we’ll all live happily ever after! Right Prince Roman?” Pattey beamed at him, holding his hands out, fingers uncurling so that he could see Virgil. 
The Frogmin growled, dark hair falling in front of his mismatched eyes before he adjusted his legs, jumping to the boy’s shoulder.
Pattey let out a giggle, scrunching up his shoulders. “Vee, that tickles!!”  
Roman let out a breath as Virgil ducked down into the collar of the boy’s jacket. A Happy ending huh? “...Right….That.”
Daemon’s own smile was rather brittle as he stood, ruffling his son’s hair. “Soo…” He said echoing Roman’s tone of voice as he looked up, eyes for once not looking cold and calculating, but...resigned? “It looks like Virgil here wants to come home with my son.” He said, gesturing to the Frogmin peering out from Pattey’s jacket. “Is there paperwork or something I need to fill out for him or--?” 
Right. No need to drag out this conversation any longer now the kid had chosen his new pet. “Yes. You’ll need to fill out forms and Virgil--” He cut off as the Frogmin hissed giving him the middle finger. He tsked. Now that wasn’t appropriate for a child to see.  “Virgil.”  
The Frogmin shook his head, spots slightly glowing as he glowered at him. “No Box, Princey.” He said, with a slight echo to his voice. 
Princey? Roman pursed his lips together. Of course the Emo Nightmare chose to finally speak to him now that he was leaving the store. Typical. A true Christmas Miracle. Logan would be so proud to hear that the little EmoFrogmare had finally broken his silence to Roman. 
Pattey reached up, cupping his hand protectively around the Frogmin as he gave Roman the saddest puppy dog look he’d seen this holiday season with the watery eyes, trembling lip and everything. “Vee can stay with me right? I’ll keep him warm.” 
Yes, but-- “You know that’s not our policy, Vir--” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as Virgil let out an even longer hiss sounding like an agitated rattlesnake. “Fine. Fine. But if you fall and break your leg it’s not my fault.” 
Dameon coughed into his hand, doing a poor job of hiding his smile as Virgil flashed him a thumbs up, curling up against Pattey’s neck as the boy gasped, eyes going wide. 
“No! No breaking! He’ll stay Safe!! Virgil is MY PROTECTOR!! He’s eating the spiders!” He said, shaking his head hard enough that the Frogmin would have fallen if the kid’s hand hadn’t been right there for him to cling to with his little sticky fingers. “Promise!” 
And this was the boy EmoFrogmare wanted to go home with? Roman didn’t understand at all. He raised an eyebrow as Vee settled once more on Pattey’s shoulder. “That’s good. Just be careful alright?”  
Virgil hissed in response, baring his teeth at them.
“He really doesn’t like you does he?” Daemon commented in a low voice.
Roman rolled his eyes, gesturing for his Ex to follow him to the checkout counter so he could grab the proper forms. “Nope.” He said, popping the P. It was kinda irritating too. He could charm all the other Mins in the store and get them more comfortable and out of their shells before going to their new homes, but Virgil had never warmed up to him. 
Dameon gave him a crooked smile. “I’m sorry.”
Roman stiffened at the unexpected third apology falling easily from the snake’s lips. How could he say it now for something that wasn’t even his fault when he couldn’t even apologize for--for...everything that had happened between them back in college? 
He shook his head, waving it away. “Don’t be--well you can be once you pay for him.” He said, jabbing a finger in his Ex’s direction before pulling out the forms and a pen. “Then his bad behavior is on you, not me.”
To Be Continued.  Part 5
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frogsandcookies · 3 years
Text
Butterflies
Notes: So I got into Demonslayer recently. And naturally, I had to make a Sanders Sides au for it and write things. In this au, it’s not focusing on the main story but more the Kocho sisters. Patton is Kanao, Virgil is Shinobu, and Roman is Kanae. I changed the story a bit
Warnings: Child abuse, human trafficking, violence, mentioned character death
Part 1 / Part 2
___
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(art by me)
Patton’s back was pressed against the musty wall of the decrepit house, the only thing between his skin and the wood being his tattered and worn robes. He stood on shaky legs, barely managing to stay upright due to malnourishment and lack of sleep. He flinched and held back a cry as a fist came flying towards his face, landing on  his left cheek and sending him hurling towards the ground.
Patton landed with a thud, his hands taking the brunt of the force. His arms buckled and he fell onto the wooden floor, his round glasses slipping down his nose at the impact but thankfully not falling off.
He struggled to get up and tried to crawl away, only to have his arm caught by his attacker. He whimpered, and the man’s grip tightened. A fresh bruise was already forming on his face from the blow and his arm was guaranteed to get some new ones as well, courtesy of his caretaker’s bonecracking grip.
After five years of this, Patton was used to the treatment and didn’t attempt to escape as he was dragged across the dusty wooden floor, his tattered robes adding a new layer of dust to its collection. The robes were several years old and were nearly in tatters but he doubted they’d be replaced anytime soon.
What did I do to deserve this? Patton questioned internally, wincing as several sharp splitters embedded themselves into his skin as he was dragged unceremoniously across the floor boards.
Patton had been two years old at the time of his parents’ deaths and because he lacked other family, or at least other family that was willing to take him in, he had ended up in an orphanage. A year later, he and several other children had been adopted by Mr. Peters and his associates.
They had been promised a happy and safe life however that had been a facade for something more sinister. The men who had adopted them ran a human trafficking ring which prayed on orphans and children who if they disappeared, no one would notice. The first day of their adoption, all of the children had been beaten several times, the explanation provided being that they were starting their conditioning.
Patton had adapted quickly. He learned how to be quiet, how to bandage injuries, and most of all, how to be obedient. One by one, children were sold off, buyers travelling from all around the country to illegally purchase young children.
Patton had been sold to a man bearing the name Jet. He wasn’t rich but he had connections and was friends with the other caretakers, resulting in a decreased price. The day he had left the caretaker’s home was one of the worst days of his life.
Patton snapped out of his daze as he noticed the man had stopped dragging him, although his grip on Patton’s wirst didn’t loosen.
The shoddy door was slid open and light flooded into the dark room. Patton raised his head weakly, the sunlight reflecting off his cracked glasses lenses as he squinted. One of the other kids owned by Jet was passed out against the house wall, blood dripping from a but on his forehead.
Before Patton could realize what was going to happen next, he was thrown out of the doorway and into the front yard. He landed on a patch of rocky ground, a cloud of dust rising up around him as he skidded slightly before stilling.
His bruised back ached as it slammed against the hard ground and dust coated him, landing in his exposed cuts and creating a burning sensation to spread across his skin. His glasses had fallen off during the short flight, landing several feet away. The junky lenses were noticeably more cracked than before, their cheap quality not built to be able to withstand such actions. Dark brown curls fell in front of his eyes and rustled as he shifted slightly to a more comfortable position.
The door slammed shut and Patton released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
The child soon noticed several drops of liquid dripping down his face and realized it was blood. He wasn’t surprised, he had knocked his head pretty hard against the ground. Patton weakly pulled his knees closer to his chest as he continued to lay in the dirt.
I’m hungry, he thought. I haven’t eaten in...a week? I think. Yeah. Mr Jet brought us rice. Not much but it tasted like heaven. I guess when you’re starving anything tastes good.
I’m sad, Patton realized. As positive I try to stay, it never gets better. No one cares. No one ever tries to help. Everyone leaves. The only person who cared was Logan and he left me too. I wonder if he remembers me...
I feel hopeless, Patton continued, breathing shakily and bringing his knees closer to his chest, now in a fetal position. At this point death would be better. Everything hurts. At least when I’m dead no one can hurt me. And it’s not like anyone loves me. I’m a waste of space and if I was gone, the other kids could at least stop worrying about me. They’d get more food too.  
Patton sighed before pushing himself up, ignoring the aching in his arms. He grabbed his glasses and pushed them onto his face, smearing the blood streaks slightly..
“Tomorrow will be better.” He whispered.
Lie. His brain replied.
___
-One month later-
Patton sat in the yard, his knees pressed to his chest as he leaned against the wooden fence. He stared off into space, zoning out until he noticed a figure blocking the sun.
He looked up, a tall unknown man leering over him, a rope held in his hands.
“You’re being sold.” A familiar voice said from behind the stranger. Jet stepped in front of Patton and said,”I can’t afford to keep feeding you and besides, I’ve grown tired of you. So Mr. Pryce is going to sell you for me.”
“Doesn’t it talk?” The stranger said, wrinkling his nose at Patton’s silence.
“Tt. No. If he does, there’s a consequence. Do you really think I want to hear some child’s incessant blabbering?” Jet said, rolling his eyes.
“Smart. People like the quiet ones. They don’t complain as much. Though I doubt this one even knows how to talk.” Mr. Pryce said.
Patton used to talk but after several sessions of punishment, he had wisely learned to be quiet. Anything that could prevent more pain was a smart path for him.
“Stand up.” Jet snapped at Patton. Patton silently stood up, raising his arms as he realized what the rope was for.
“Well trained too. We’re going to get a bundle.” The taller man said, beginning to wrap the rope around Patton’s midsection before tying it securely. He gripped the other end tightly in his hand, looping it around his palm several times.
“In case it tries to escape.” Mr. Pryce said, the statement more directed at Patton who simply blinked. He wasn’t stupid enough to escape and even if he did, there was nowhere that he could go.
“He won’t. He knows not to.” Jet said, giving Patton a creepy, momo-esque smile. Patton remained still and Jet stepped back.
“Alright. Time to go,” Mr. Pryce said, “I’ll be back with the cash as soon as I can.”
“Good.” Jet said, crossing his arms.
The man holding the rope started to walk, pulling Patton along with him. Patton walked behind him, separated by several feet so as to not get in the man’s way.
Jet didn’t bother to say goodbye and turned back to the house, stepping inside and closing the door.
I guess this is goodbye. Patton thought. It seems dumb to hope that things get better but I do hope they don’t get worse. Bye house. I’ll remember you. You were a good home...Bye Mr. Jet. I don’t think I’ll miss you but thank you. I guess… Bye everyone. I hope all of you guys escape one day.
Patton remained silent as they walked down the road, the man keeping a steady pace. He seemed to be in a hurry, no doubt eager to get over with the sale and get his cut of the money.
They soon reached town, the man leading him through the streets. No one gave them a second glance, used to seeing this sort of thing. Selling off children was fairly common and while people might not have agreed with it, they had their own business to attend to.
They were crossing a bridge when someone called out to them.
“Excuse me, do you have a minute?” A male voice said. Mr. Pryce turned around and Patton followed, glancing at the owner of the voice.
Standing behind them were two males, both in black uniforms and wearing kimonos over said uniforms. The taller one had on a kimono resembling a butterfly’s wing and a matching hair piece. The shorter male had on a white kimono along with a butterfly hairpiece that matched the others.
They resembled each other enough to be easily identified as brothers.
The taller one kneeled down in front of Patton, looking him up and down. Patton looked at him with dull eyes, not questioning the action. The other brother stood protectively behind the older, wearing a vaguely agitated expression.
“Hello there, nice to meet you.” The taller butterfly boy said, smiling softly at Patton. “My name is Roman Kocho. What’s your name?” He questioned amicably.
“He’s got no name, alright? No one ever gave him one.” Mr. Pryce said, wearing an annoyed expression as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.
I do have a name. Patton thought though he stayed silent.
“What about his parents?” Roman asked, frowning.
“He ain’t got none. The little twerp’s alone.” The man sneered.
That caused irritated expressions to form on both brothers’ faces.
“Now if you want to talk to this kid, pay up!” The man said, glaring at them. The shorter of the pair shifted and looked at his brother before reaching his hand into a pocket.
“Alright then. We’ll purchase him. Would this be enough?” The younger said before tossing out a handful of bills and coins into the air. The coins made a clattering noise against the wood of the bridge.
Both Patton and Roman turned to look at the shorter who was wearing an expression of determination and anger.
The man looked at the money and during this moment of distraction, Roman snatched the other end of the rope before grabbing one of Patton’s hands. The other brother grabbed Patton’s other hand.
“Very dramatic Virgil, I approve. But are you sure about this?” Roman said, grinning as they began to run away from the scene. Patton looked up at Virgil as they continued to run, wonder sparking in his eyes.
“It’s fine.” Virgil said, smiling a bit as well.
Roman looked back to the man and yelled,”Please excuse us! Or don’t, you bastard!”
“Roman! Language!” Virgil scolded, picking up the pace as they ran through the town. Patton turned back to Roman, the wonder shining on his face.
-Later-
Clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Patton sat on his knees in the middle of a room, the doors open to face the outside. His clothes were at least four times too big but they were cleaner than anything he had ever owned and he was grateful. His hair had dried quickly and was now several shades lighter than before, the dust and grime now gone. He had a butterfly clip in his hair as well, the color a light blue much like the sky.
Outside the two brothers were talking. The younger one, Virgil, was currently talking.
“Roman. Roman! Roman, this kid is hopeless!” Virgil exclaimed, glancing at Patton who stared at him blankly, not moving at all.
“Oy, don’t be like that!” Roman scolded, sending Patton a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, it just takes time. Besides, this was your idea, remember?” Roman continued, nudging Virgil.
“Okay, one, don’t tell me not to worry because you know that’s not possible. Two, we both know that you would’ve done the same thing if I hadn’t.” Virgil said, crossing his arms.
“And besides, we can’t do anything with a kid who can’t even think for himself! It’s dangerous, not to mention--” Virgil paused as he watched Roman walk over to Patton, kneeling besides the younger boy.
He pulled a coin out of his pocket and showed it to Patton.
“I know that choosing can be difficult, so how about when you’re on your own, you can decide by flipping this coin. Alright kiddo?” Roman said, smiling. He took Patton’s hand and pressed the coin into his palm, the heads side up.
After doing this, he turned to look back at Virgil.
“As long it’s given a chance, a person’s soul will open up so don’t worry.” Roman said, smiling. Virgil sighed and cracked a smile.
Roman turned back to Patton and continued. “If you fall in love with someone one day, you’ll change too kiddo.”
Patton looked down at his palm which held the coin.  He wrapped his fingers around it softly before unclenching them. He hesitantly took the coin in his fingers and flipped it, the coin landing on heads. Patton blinked and seemed to think for a moment before turning to face Roman.
“My name’s Patton.” Patton whispered. Virgil looked surprised and he looked at Roman who was grinning widely.
“That’s a lovely name, Patton. I remember reading somewhere that it means ‘fighter’s town.’ That’s quite accurate for you Patton because you’re a fighter if I’ve ever seen one. Welcome to the family.” Roman said, gently pulling Patton into a hug.
___
I will be continuing this so comment if you want to be added to the taglist 
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snowdice · 4 years
Text
Folds in Paper (Chapter 2: Green Light)[Folds in Time Universe]
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)
Characters:
Main: Janus, Patton, Remus
Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman
Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.
With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.
Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – to-morrow we will run farther, stretch out our arms farther…” (F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gastby)
This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.
Part 1
The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another pop-tart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the first saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.
Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.
The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.
Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before, before looking through the next things on his list. A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece of time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travelers that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.
Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace. It was a fairly low stakes mission.
He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.
Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.
This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.
“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”
“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”
“But-”
“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.
“May I come in?” Janus asked.
“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.
“Yes ma’am.”
She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”
“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.
“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.
“All green.”
“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”
“No.”
She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.
The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slid copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out mission, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.
As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.
She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. You’re set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”
“How much-?” Remus started.
“None, agent,” Rhi said.
“But-”
“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”
“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.
She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”
“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”
“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”
“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”
“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”
“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”
“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.
“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.
“Kinky.”
Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.
They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.
Janus’s own mask, on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side, there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.
Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.
After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.
Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.
Want to read more? Click below!
AO3 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
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5am-the-foxing-hour · 4 years
Text
Thomas Ships Week 2 Day 4
Day 4 (June 24): Camping
Ship: Thomic (Thomas x Logan)
Characters: Character Thomas and Logan,
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Words: 729
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@tsxsidesweek
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  “Logan? Where are we going?” Thomas asked as he trailed after Logan up the forest path uphill,
  “We will be there soon.” Logan replied.
The forest was growing darker by the second as the sun sunk closer and closer to the horizon.  If Thomas looked up he could see how the setting sun painted the tops of the trees in vibrant reds and oranges.
They walked uphill for a while more before the trees parted revealing the sky and the setting sun. Thomas couldn’t help the gaps that left his lisp at the view. The hilltop gave them both a great view of the changing sky as well as the landscape around them, mostly it was the forest of the park they were camping at, their tent and belongings at the cape site that they’ve left a few minutes ago. Logan turned around and it was first now Thomas noticed he was holding a blanket and a sleeping mat to keep the moisture of the earth from chilling them in his arms.
  “You came prepared.” Thomas chuckled.
  “Ah yes. I grabbed these after making sure no one was around… I rather not give Virgil’s cryptids theories more fruits by making these float in the air to anyone else.”
  “Understandable, so? We’re to watch the sunset?”
  “I found this spot earlier, after we got up the tent… and it was the perfect spot for stargazing, though I will admit, the sunset is a nice addition.” Thomas walked over and kissed Logan on the lips.
  “Not as nice as you, Logan.” Logan made a flustered noise, face almost rivalling the setting sun in its redness.
 They found a good spot to sit down and got comfortable under the blanket. Thomas blinked in surprise when Logan suddenly shrunk in height before him before sitting down so he could rest his back against Thomas’s chest.
  “What are you doing Logan?”
  “I want to be held.” Logan stated before he gave Thomas an unsure look, Logan was mostly the one who held Thomas “Is.. is that okay?”
  “Of course it’s okay Logan!” Thomas called happily wrapping his arms around Logan’s torso. “I’ll gladly hold you for as long as you want me too.” Logan blushed but gripped at Thomas arms, leaning against Thomas a bit more.
  “... good. this will be satisfactory.” Thomas chuckled before he gave Logan a quick peck on the temple, earning another flustered squeak from his logical side.
 The sunset was beautiful, the sky changing from strong reds and oranges to fainter pinks and purples, before deep dark blue took over to pitch black as the sun vanished from behind the horizon, the stars coming alight one after the other now when the sun no longer blinded out their lights.
Logan happily talked as he pointed out the different constellations, talking about the myths that made them and what starts shone in them, Thomas listened happily, resting his jaw on top of Logan’s head.
They didn’t retreat back to the tent before their yawning became more normal than them talking. the trip back went a bit slower as they only had Thomas’s flashlight to guide them down the path, to avoid loose rocks and tricky roots. The tent waited for them when they came back to the campsite. Thomas opened it and let Logan climb inside first before he followed. They quickly brushed their teeth before they climbed down in the sleeping bags. They were quiet for a moment before they both shuffled closer and in the end, opened up the zippers on the sleeping bags to make them into two big blankets instead to be able to cuddle.
They were awoken in the morning by a herd of geese flying over the campsite and landing in the lake a bit away, where many of the camping families bathed if it got to warm. Thomas made a unhappy noise, wanting to sleep more, Logan just chuckled slightly before he pulled Thomas closer, now back to his normal height.
  “Go back to sleep, Thomas. We don’t have much planned for this day.” Thomas sighed and nuzzled into Logan’s chest. letting sleep start to claim him again, he smiled when he felt Logan card his fingers through his hair and place a kiss on his forehead, Thomas snuggled a bit closer, wrapping his arms around Logan once again before sleep fully took him.
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