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The Beast

Ok, so I decided to try the “word-vomit” method of writing, so... here goes. I think it was a pretty successful thing.

word count: 1004

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Logan Sanders

Pairings: Platonic Lamp/Calm

Warnings: blood mention, crying, broken bones, bloodloss, unconcsious character, biting. let me know If I missed anything.

It was a dark Winter’s night, and three children, Virgil, who was the oldest at 15 years of age, Roman, who was 12 years of age, and Patton, who was just 6, were out in the wild on a camping trip. They toasted marshmallows, and told stories. Close to ten at night, Virgil told a story he had read on his phone. He told of a beast, that lived in a cave not far from their campsite. He told of how it crippled and ate any humans who dared enter its cave. Roman puffed out his chest.

“I could defeat that beast any day” He said, in a self-important manner. Before Virgil could stop him, Roman had wandered into the forest. Patton tugged at his sleeve.

“Whadda we do now?” He asked, eyes wide with panic.

“We follow him.” Came Virgil. He picked up the axe they brought for chopping fire-wood and some flashlights. They set off after the middle brother, Patton clutching his puppy flashlight in one hand and Virgil’s hand in the other. Before long, they reached the cave. It was almost eleven o’clock.

“I see Roman going in there,” Patton said, shaking, close to tears. Virgil started walking into the cave. A high-pitched growl was heard.

“c’mon, it’s probably just a bat,” Virgil said, trying to reassure and calm down the younger brother. They approached the cave again, and the shrieking noise was heard again. By now, Patton was hugging Virgil’s arm and burying his tear-stained face into the patchy sleeve of his brother’s hoodie.

“No turning back now,” Virgil muttered, leading Patton with him into the tunnel. He could feel the younger sobbing on his arm. They went in. there were tunnels branching off in every direction. Virgil tried to keep track of where they went. Right, left, left, right, straight, left- or was it right? It was too hard. Further they ventured into the cave. Crack. A stick snapped under Virgil’s feet. That was funny, surely it was too far into the tunnel for trees? He looked down at the smooth, white stick he trod on. It was a bone. They continued, as the tunnel widened into a cavern. There was a crash, as something fell through the ceiling. It was Roman. They had finally found him!

“ouch,” he mumbled, dusting off his white shirt and picking up the fire-prod he brought. Patton’s eyes lit up for a moment, before he started sobbing again. He ran to Roman, who pulled him into a hug. He groaned a bit. As Patton let go, he noticed a red stain on the white shirt. He sobbed, facing Virgil.

“Ro’s hurt!” he cried. Virgil, genuinely looking quite panicked, ran to the middle brother’s side. He lifted Roman’s shirt, revealing bruised ribs and a bleeding gash. Patton started crying harder.

“It’s alright, Pat, everything’s gonna be ok.” Virgil said, attempting to soothe his youngest brother. Scratch.

“Now’s not the time for pranks, Ro,” said the oldest. Roman looked quite confused.

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied. Virgil threw the axe toward where the sound was coming from, but it hit solid stone. Scratch. The scratching was getting closer, until it stopped. Then was the shriek. Then it dropped from the hole Roman had created when he fell through the ceiling of the cavern.

It was vaguely canine and vaguely human, and it was covered in coarse, black fur. It had long, lanky limbs and a long, thin jaw. Its muscles tensed. “No!” Roman shouted, jumping between the beast and his brothers. The beast pounced. It grabbed his shoulder in its maw, and with its furry hands, grabbed his leg.

SNAP! It broke the boy’s leg as if it were a twig. Roman gasped in pain. Then Virgil jumped into the fray. He threw the fire-prod at the beast, shocking It enough to drop Roman. He, picked up the 12-year old, who had lost consciousness due to the pain. He ran toward the exit of the cave. Virgil’s phone, which had fallen out of his pocket as he ran to help Roman, read, 11:11. Patton began praying,

“Please, I wish we will all be safe and not hurt and Ro will wake up”

“Patton, Come one! Hurry!” he yelled. The small child didn’t think about it twice. He ran after his older brother. The beast tried to follow, but since it was so big it couldn’t fit through the small tunnel. Which way did I go? Virgil puzzled, running through the labyrinth of passages. He saw light ahead. Had they really been in the caves that long? He ran towards it. The tunnel opened to the part of the forest they were in earlies. He slowed to a jogging pace. Their faces were all pale. Patton from terror, Virgil from the worry and concern he felt toward his brothers, and Roman from blood-loss. They finally reached the campsite.

“Patton, get an air-mattress!” Virgil yelled. Obediently, Patton went into the tent and got his own mattress. Roman was placed on top of it. Virgil set about tending to his wounds, and Patton called an ambulance. They were taken back to civilisation, and all was well in the end.

“Could be gayer. But why did I have to be the damsel in distress?” Roman cried.

“Because you fit that role perfectly, and I was not about to alter the story,” Logan said calmly, closing the book. Patton was grinning.

“I think it had a great ending!” he beamed.

“But, you know what would make it even better?” he continues. The Moral side ran to the kitchen, returning shortly with an air-hostess style snack tray laden with drinks and chocolate chip cookies.

“Hot chocolate and cookies!” he said, handing out mugs and cookies. And so, the night continued, Logan drinking his hot chocolate, Virgil sitting on the couch eating a cookie, and Patton and Roman having a good chat, until it was time for everyone to go to bed. And they all had a restful sleep, ready for the next day.

thanks for reading my story, guys! let me know, please, if I can improve anything, and if you want to see more of these one-shot things on my blog! and I have to include: I’ve started a tag list. So lemme know if you want to be tagged!

@daughterofsomnus @jessthewolf

Alrighty, guys! I have a surprise!

I have something I’m working on. it will be absolutely marvical and I can’t wait to reveal it!

Part 1 of my big surprise!

Alrighty-o, my wonderful friends! Here it is, part 1! I set this thing up for y’all to join! It’s a lil group on discord where we can chat about Sanders Sides, Disney and things in general! Here’s the link.

https://discord.gg/22sJgz (Disney and Fanders and Stuff, Oh My!)

enjoy, and please join! I’m so excited to see you there!

Hey guys!

So I just wanna let you know that I HAVEN’T abandoned my blog, but I’ve been running low on inspiration. So if you have anything you want me to draw or write or draw, just send me the prompt!

Trapped Free Spirit | Chapter 1

Word count: 1977

Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders

Warnings:None in this chapter, lemme know if I missed something

Pairings: Royality (platonic), Moxiety (platonic)

Hybrid AU thing

Chapter 1 | previous chapter | Next Chapter | Archive Link

Roman had first become a slave when his poor family, not being able to give the support needed to their energetic, over-dramatic, winged son, sold him while he was asleep. “I wish this could be different,” his mother whispered into his ear while he was being tied to the wagon, “but we have to do this for our safety.” When he woke up, he was miles away from home and bouncing along in the little wagon. He called out to his parents, but he didn’t know they couldn’t hear him, and the wagon driver yelled at him to shut up. He sat up, flapped his large, red wings to get some feeling back in them and started planning how to get back to his parents, when he realised his wrist was tied with a length of rope to the side of the wagon. He came to the conclusion that he had been kidnapped. The wagon drove into a town near-ish the homes of the rich families and nobility, and then stopped near a small, dingy building. He was untied and dragged into the building by a tall man in a suit.

“Where am I? What happened? Where’s Mother and Father?” Roman peppered the man with questions. The man ignored him and brought him down a flight of stairs. Down the stairs, there was a hallway with two heavy wooden doors, and walls, roof and floors made of stone. Roman was shoved in the second door. “Have fun in your last few days of freedom.” the man snickered, closing the door and locking it. When Roman’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed three other boys in the room. Two had glasses, and one had really deep under-eye bags. The boy with round glasses, a blue shirt, some kind of grey garment tied around his shoulders, and the fluffy ears and tail of a cat looked up for a moment and noticed Roman, pounding on the door, in efforts to break it open and escape. He came over to him.

“Hi, my name’s Patton. What’s yours?” the boy asked. “Roman. Do you know what’s happening?” he replied, sitting down against the door. “You don’t know?” “No. I woke up and I was on a wagon and Mother and Father weren’t there.” Roman recounted, fighting back the angry tears welling up in his brown eyes. “Oh. well-” Patton stopped for a moment, thinking, his ears twitching. “I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you more, but-” “We’re gonna be sold as slaves.” the boy in the corner with the under-eye bags mumbled, taking his black, patchy hood off, revealing small stubby deer horns poking out from under his messy, black hair. Roman panicked. Slaves?! Surely there was some mistake here! “Woah, calm down, Roman! Breathe.” Patton said, trying to calm him down. The tears were now pouring down, and his breath was coming out in short gasps. He fainted.

“-man? Roman? Please wake up!” It was Patton. It wasn’t just a nightmare, and Roman was really here, in an inescapable room, going to be sold. He wished it was a dream. He sat up, neatened his brown hair into the usual style, which wasn’t hard as it usually fell the way he wanted it to, and stretched his wings. Patton was holding something. It was food. Sure, it was just a bit of bread, but it was still food, and Roman hadn’t eaten all day. Patton offered it to him. “You should eat.” Patton said. “If you don’t eat, you’re gonna starve, and then no one will buy you and you’re gonna be stuck here for longer which means you’ll starve more. Take it.” “How much food do we usually get here?” he asked. “Usually just a bit of bread and maybe a whole bread roll if they’re feeling generous.” Patton replied, pushing the chunk of bread into his hand. That would mean the three in here would probably be quite hungry. Roman accepted it, thinking it would do no one good if he was hungry. “Patton?” He asked. “Yes?” “How did you get here?”

That must have hit a sore spot, because Patton looked sad. He still smiled, but he looked quite upset. “Maybe I’ll tell you later.” He replied, ears and tail drooping.The other boy with glasses was still where he was before, reading a piece of paper, adjusting his square glasses every now and then. “Oh!” Patton suddenly exclaimed. “I haven’t introduced you to Logan or Virgil!” They must be the other two in here, Roman thought, but which is which? Patton read his thoughts. “This is Virgil and Logan’s over there, reading. Guys, this is Roman!” Patton said. Logan looked up upon hearing his name. “Salutations.” Logan said, returning to his reading almost as quickly as he stopped reading.

The door swung open, and the thin, tall man walked in, a wicked grin on his face. “You’re in luck, it’s market day.” He sneered, another man who was a good deal shorter walked in, holding ropes. Virgil looked terrified. Logan hid his paper in the pocket of his black pants when he saw the two men at the door. Patton shielded the sleep-deprived boy with determination. Roman folded his wings and stood up, unsure of what to do. His wrists were tied together, and the same was done to the others. He and Logan had their wings tied to their backs so they couldn’t fly away.

“Follow me.” The tall man said. “Why?” Roman said, realising too late he said it a bit over-confidently and snide. Virgil gasped, and hid further behind Patton. The bespectacled, feline boy turned around and hugged him. “We’ve got a little royal, do we? You think you’re so much better than anyone else here, do you, princey? Well, do you?” The man snapped. “No.” Roman said, all his confidence fading in an instant. “Good. Now follow, and if I hear one more sound from ANY of you I will see to it that you are ALL gagged!” The man said, still furious. They fell into line and were led to the middle of the market, to a stage in the square.

“Now act well so you can all finally get sold and I won’t have to keep spending MY money on the lavish feasts I give you.” The man whispered hoarsely. They were led onto the stage, and Logan was brought up front. An auctioneer started the bid for him at five hundred dollars. Logan stood up straight and kept a poker face. A yellow gloved hand rose and a posh accent said, “I’ll give ten thousand dollars for the four of them.” and Roman realised they were all getting bought together, meaning he wouldn’t be alone, even if he had just met these three boys.

“Any more offers? No? Going… Going… Sold!” The auctioneer cried. “To Mr. D. Ceitful!” Who was this? He didn’t sound like a nice man, with a name that sounded like deceitful. They were hurried off the stage to a fancy carriage by the Tall man who brought Roman into the basement room in the first place. “Now, Listen here, Princey, don’t you dare give the Ceitfuls any of your sass and arrogance, I don’t want to see any of you back here.” He quietly warned Roman. Patton still had his arm protectively around Virgil.

The trip was long, and half of it was probably just the driveway to the huge manor. Before they reached the manor, the driver quickly had a word with them. “Now, listen well,” He said, “When you get out, I will untie you and you will not try to escape, there are bodyguards and personal soldiers posted everywhere. You will go into the door near the topiary shaped like a snake, go down the hall into the slave quarters. You will get a tour of the manor and receive your jobs. If you do not do your jobs or act out of line, you will be punished. Understood?” “Understood.” the four said. They reached the manor and the driver pointed out the topiary, then untied them. They stuck close together, and headed for the topiary. Logan was the first to find the kitchen, where a woman, who was thinner than the other man, was waiting for them. “So you’re the new slaves? There are maps of the manor for you on the counter. Now let me see,” she said, placing the four in a line, starting with Patton, then Virgil, then Logan, and Roman was last.

“What can you do?” she asked Patton. It was adorable how his ears twitched when he was thinking. “Well, I can cook?” Patton offered hopefully. “Hmm, I’ll put you as a kitchenhand for now to see how you go. If you do well, you’ll get a permanent job in the kitchen. If not, you work for Darien, the young master of the manor. And I assume you know where the kitchen is?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Patton nodded, his ears drooping slightly. The woman untied him and he walked slowly into the kitchen.

She then stood in front of Virgil. He shrank down a bit. “”And how about you? Any particular skillsets or anything?” “Umm, I also know some cooking skills.” Virgil said quietly. “Well, then,” she said, “You’ll also be assessed as a kitchen hand with the cat. Same rules apply. Got it?” Virgil also nodded and went into the kitchen after being untied.Logan was next. He stated that he could read. “Well then, you will be in charge of keeping the library cleaned and organised. Here is a map, I’ll draw down the routes you will be taking during your day. I will untie your wings as with them you will not need a ladder to access the top shelves. Remember that you are trusted enough not to fly away. If you do, consequences will apply.” she untied him and handed him a map.

Roman was terrified, it was now his turn. The woman stood in front of him and asked the dreaded question. He didn’t really know how to do much, except he did enjoy putting on plays for his parents. But that wouldn’t get him very far. “Um, I have lots of energy?” he said. That might get him somewhere. The woman thought. For a very long time, or so it felt. “I can only think of one thing to do with you.” She said, shaking her head. “You will work for Darien. Do as he says, and don’t argue. If you do, you will be punished. Understood?” “Yes.” Roman said, his voice barely above a whisper. She reminded him of the conditions for his wings being untied, actually did untie him and gave him a map that lead for the fastest route to Darien’s entire section of the manor. He took it, she wished him good luck, and he set off in the hallway, flying every now and then so his wings wouldn’t cramp.

He finally arrived at Darien’s wing. The door was different to the other slightly dark brown doors. It was huge, black and lined with gold. *Well, this guy’s really dramatic*, Roman thought, knocking on the door with his task paper in hand. He was told not to read it, but to hand it straight to Darien. Deciding it would be best not to fly in through the great door, Roman folded his wings and fell to the floor. He got up just as the door was being opened. “What? I totally expected visitors.” said the thin boy in black clothes lined with gold, a black bowler hat and patches of scales on patches of his pale skin. Roman handed him the paper, since this must have been Darien. Darien smiled wickedly. “Ah,” he said, “You must be my new plaything.”

Trapped Free Spirit | Chapter 2

Word count: 2681

Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders

Warnings:None in this chapter, lemme know if I missed something

Pairings: Royality (platonic), Moxiety (platonic)

Hybrid AU thing

Chapter 1 |  Previous Chapter | Next chapter | Archive Link

Before you could utter the words, I’m not a toy, Darien dragged Roman inside and over to a box full of costumes. He pointed out a corner where Roman was meant to get changed while Darien was in his private kitchen. So when he was alone, he rummaged through the box and found a prince costume with gold embellishments and a red sash. He pulled it out of the box and found a pair of knee-length black riding boots to go with it. He cut a chunk of the back of the shirt off so it would fit without his wings getting in the way, got changed and knocked on the kitchen door to let his new master know he was done.

“Stop knocking on the door and just come in already!” Darien yelled. Roman opened the door. The kitchen wasn’t as big as the other room, but still huge. Darien was sitting at a counter, eating a piece of cake. He plonked the cake down on a plate and walked over to Roman. “Was told by one of my many sources your nickname is Princey. Of course you’d choose that outfit, wouldn’t you, Princey?” Darien said. Roman wanted to say that no, that wasn’t his nickname, but he didn’t know what the punishments were and he didn’t particularly find out. “C’mon, I’m bored.” Darien said, getting up. He followed.

It turned out that Darien’s views on fun didn’t align at all with Roman’s. It included things like taking Roman outside, tying him by the leg to a light post, with enough length for him to fly and move around, and throwing fruit at him. And Darien had a strong arm. And when Darien got tired of that, he went to get a break and left Roman attached to the light post. During that break, Roman at least got a chance to sit down, try to clean up his wings as best as possible and come up with escape ideas. Then Darien came back. “I have a great idea!” He said, his wicked grin right there. Roman groaned. When Darien grinned like that, he got the feeling this wouldn’t be good. “So Princey, you think you’re a prince? Then you wouldn’t have any problem fighting off some kind of monster!” Yep, not good. Darien told him to hurry up and follow. Roman pointed out that he was still tied to the post. Darien groaned even louder than he did, and untied his ankle. He then strode off, and Roman followed.

Darien stopped in front of a large door made almost entirely of thick bars, like a gate from a castle wall. “Right in there’s the armoury, then go through the door and I’ll be in the stand. This’ll be fun.” He said, still grinning. Roman gulped us the gate went up. He went in. He then decided that he WAS a prince, he COULD do this and he was gonna prove to Darien that he was strong and skilful and could do anything Darien threw at him. He’d then fly away and never be seen again by anyone from this kingdom.

The armoury was more like a dungeon. How did Darien have all these things? He was, like, the same age as Roman! He picked up a chestplate and helmet from a table, then noticed the weapon rack. It was lined with huge battleaxes, long spears and a wide array of swords. Once again, how did Darien get all these things? Roman picked up a thin katana with a few nicks on it. He tested it, not exactly sure what for, but he’d watched soldiers practising in the forest near his home so he had some clue. It felt good, holding that sword. He felt less like a slave fighting for an evil master’s entertainment and more like a battle-trained prince. Then he went through the door.

“And here we have Princey, entering the arena now!” Darien called, though his speech sounded muffled through the thick padding of Roman’s helmet. What would he be forced to fight? A minotaur? A dragon-witch? “And in the opposition,” Darien called, “We have a special bit of fun for Princey!” *Just get on with it,* Roman thought, shuffling his wings a bit underneath the chestplate. It was immensely uncomfortable, but what was he meant to do? “Princey will be battling…” Darien continued, “A salamander!” Roman didn’t know what a salamander was, nor was he eager to fight one. Then the gate on the opposite side of the small dome slid open and the Salamander ran out. It was like a huge, black lizard with slimy black skin, yellow stripes across its back and three pairs of legs, rather than the usual two you often find on lizards. Then it charged.

Roman moved out of the way just in time to avoid it biting him clean in half. He jumped on its back, and tried to stab his sword into its head, but missed as it jumped and threw him off. He landed on his back and felt pain in his wings as he got up. Then the Salamander breathed fire at him. *Fire? That’s nice to know.* Roman thought is he rolled out of the way and got up, a bit clumsily. The Salamander charged again, this time anticipating Roman moving out of the way and ran right into him, not quite getting its jaws around his middle thanks to the chestplate. Roman took his chance and shoved the katana into its mouth. It collapsed.

“And Princey wins the battle, somehow. That was a disappointingly quick battle. Now come on, I’m gonna find something else for us to do.” Darien said, slow clapping. He opened the gate in the armoury and headed through a door behind his seat. Roman headed into the armoury and plonked his gear back. Darien was already at the gate. “Your wings look wonderful, Princey!” Darien said, noticing how crumpled and messy Roman’s wings looked. He desperately wanted to give them a stretch. Darien motioned for Roman to follow once again. Did being a slave have to involve so much walking? Roman had had barely one break during the exhausting day he’d had. Thank goodness it was time for dinner.

While Darien was eating his huge meal, Roman found his way down to the kitchen, where slaves were meant to have their meals. There was a long table with little bowls of what looked like it was meant to be soup and a small chunk of toast on the side. Patton and Virgil were already sitting at the far end of the wooden table. Patton noticed him coming over and his ears pricked up almost immediately. Virgil saw a bit after and smirked a bit. “So how was whatever you’re doing?” Patton asked. Roman groaned, but discovered Patton could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be. That is, his purring was almost irresistible.

“Well,” Roman began, when Virgil interrupted him. “Looks like you got into a fight with a fruit bowl.” He said, still smirking. “I’m Darien’s personal worker, but he treats me more like a toy.” Roman started. Patton looked quite sympathetic. “Then I was tied to a pole while the guy threw fruit at me while I tried to fly, Then I had to fight a salamander because he was bored.” Roman said, stretching his wings, which had developed a nasty cramp.

Then Logan walked in quietly and took a spot next to Roman. “Why are you covered in fruit, Roman?” he asked, if more curiously than anything else. Roman put his hand up to respond but Virgil got there first. “He got pelted with fruit.” he said, pushing his hair back over his eyes. Patton gave Logan a look that said, “We’ll tell you later.” Slowly, other slaves filed in and took spots at the table and began eating. They discovered that they’d all be sleeping in the same room, except for Roman, who got a spot in Darien’s wing. With just his luck and Darien’s idea of fun, he would be sleeping in a dungeon.

As it turned out, Roman would not, in fact, be sleeping in a dungeon, but his sleeping conditions turned out to be just about as bad as a dungeon. Darien led Roman into a corridor where his and Roman’s rooms were, as well as a three spare slave rooms. They all looked the same, which is to say, like testing subject rooms in labs. They weren’t completely the same, though. These rooms had a see-through front, and Roman’s, the only one he looked into, had a short tree inside with a nest on top, and a few other, slightly taller trees. It had been designed to look like a bird’s habitat. Roman went in through the door, which slammed shut and the lock clicked almost as soon as he was inside. Ah well, better get used to it. He curled up in the nest, which was just big enough for him, wrapped his wings around himself and fell asleep because the day had been exhausting.

The next morning, Roman woke to the sound of someone tapping on the clear wall. He rolled over and saw Darien, grinning the way he did. This couldn’t be good, it never was. Even though he’d only been here for part of a day. The lock clicked open and Roman’s second day of pain began, and it would be full of things that were fun for Darien but really weren’t fun for him. He dreaded it.

"Wake up, sleepyhead! I'm getting impatient." Darien said, tapping his foot. Roman streched out his wings and sat up, turning to face his master. "We're going to have more fun today! I'm gonna see how well you can fly with those wings of yours. And you get to dodge more fruit!" What did Darien have with pelting him with fruit? He got up, untangled a twig from his crimson feathers and headed over to the door.

This time, Roman wasn't tied to a light post, which was nice. But the downside: He was stuck indoors. "Hurry up and get flying already!" Darien called from the sidelines where he was waiting with an apple in hand. That was going to hurt when it hit him. Roman ruffled his feathers and flew up to a foot or two away from the ceiling. The apple narrowly missed his left wing. Darien continued throwing various fruits at Roman, hitting him on several occasions. He then spied a window of opportunity for escaping that took the form of, well, a window. A mystery fruit hit him square in the back while he was distracted.

The escape through the small window was a tight fit, and Roman had to fold his wings to get through. He began flying around the manor to the forest, where he would fly off and never be seen again by anyone who might recognise him. Then he heard a yell of pain. He flew towards the sound, now the sound of metal hitting skin mixed in. He then saw the source of the cries.

Patton was tied up on the ground, tears streaming down his face, as a man stood over him with a metal crowbar raised above his head, poised to strike the feline boy, who was completely helpless and covered in... was that pie filling? Roman shook off the stray thought and swooped down, picking Patton up off the ground and into the air with him as he ascended again. "What happened?" Roman asked the still terrified Patton, who was now shielding his head with his still-bound wrists. "Th-they were pun-punishing m-m-me." Patton sobbed, slowly opening his eyes.

"What?!" Roman practically roared. "Why would they punish someone as sweet and innocent as you?" Patton looked down at the ground, which was slowly turning into forest. "I-I spilled a pot o-of pie fi-filling." Patton admitted, refusing to meet Roman's furious gaze. It must have been agony for Patton, who had red marks where the stewed fruit was and large, ugly bruises forming where he had been hit by the crowbar. Only someone truly messed-up and cruel would try to harm the puffball of a cat.

"Uh, Roman?" Patton asked, getting Roman's attention. He almost dropped the boy. "Yes, my perfect puffball?" Roman replied, re-focusing and gaining a bit more altitude. It wasn't easy carrying plump, fluffy Patton, who giggled. "Don't you mean purrfect? Also, th-there's big lizard things below us." Patton said, attempting to wipe a bit of fruit on his dirty apron but failing, the rope getting annoyingly in the way.

Roman looked down and almost dropped Patton again. There were at least four Salamanders trailing them. He groaned, remembering the first battle he had with just one. He'd only won that one because the amphibious bumblebee had run into his sword, not by any talent. Then he noticed two people down there, one was a deer hybrid and the other, a bat. Oh no, they didn't.

They did. Virgil called out Patton's name a few times. Patton grinned and waved as Logan grabbed Virgil's shoulders in his clawed, bat-like talons and flew up to be level with Roman. He then gasped in shock. "Roman, what did you do to Patton?" Virgil demanded, trying to look intimidating but it was a bit hard with his stubby horns poking out and his fluffy deer tail twitching a bit. "Me? I saved Patton!" Roman stated, clearly taken aback by Virgil's tone. Both Logan and Virgil looked skeptical.

"Roman." Logan began, in a tone that wasn't outright accusing but cool and hard. "What?" Roman replied. "Evidence does not support you very well. I witnessed you carrying Patton off into the forest, while he was bound and it appears he has been injured." Wow, Logan actually had some good points and even Roman admitted (only to himself, though) that it probably looked a bit sketchy. He then realised, a bit out of context, though, that both he and Patton were covered in fruit.

"Both of you, stop!" Patton said, with his spectacularly convincing 'Disappointed Dad' look. Virgil was still glaring at Roman. "Roman was right, I wasn't kidnapped, he saved me from a punishment I got when I spilled a pot of pie filling! He's a hero!" Everyone looked at the dad character. They all had forgotten about the mob of Salamanders. One of them growled. "What was that?" Virgil asked nervously, looking like he wanted to dart away into the forest. "Those would be salamanders." Logan stated. Roman would have facepalmed himself if he wasn't still carrying Patton. "Darn it, I completely forgot about them! How could I be so stupid?" Roman snapped to himself.

"Ok, so there are giant lizards-" "Technically, salamanders are amphibians. Not reptilian." Logan corrected, interrupting Virgil. "Fine then, Amphibians below us that probably wanna eat us. What do we do? "I read about salamanders once." Logan said, pushing up his glasses. Patton's were nowhere in sight (ha) so it was a wonder he could tell it was Virgil and Logan in front of him. "They can breathe fire, and are known only to eat things that take their fancy." Logan recited.

"And lemme guess, they fancy human flesh?" Virgil grumbled, not liking the odds against giant, six-legged, fire breathing amphibians. "Falsehood, they prefer only to eat sweet-smelling matter, like flowers and fruit." Oh. So that was why the salamanders had trailed them and not gone after Virgil and Logan, who were running on the ground at that point.

"So Roman?" Patton asked the avian boy. Roman looked at him, giving him his attention. "How did you defeat the salamander before?" Well, technically, he didn't defeat the salamander before. The salamander defeated itself. "I, uh," he stuttered, "I didn't actually defeat it myself." The truth sounded so much worse when he said it out loud. He felt even worse when he saw the other's faces. Patton looked sad and disappointed, Virgil looked terrified and Logan, well Logan was... deep in thought. He looked up.

“I have a plan.”

Trapped Free Spirit | Chapter 3

Word count: 2852

Characters:  Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remy Sanders

Warnings: Buzzsaw, burning, Sad Patton in a collar, a whole lotta mentions of being tied up/restrained, yeahhhh, this one was fun to write.

Pairings: Royality (platonic), Moxiety (platonic), Logicality (platonic)

Hybrid AU thing

Chapter 1 | Previous chapter |  next chapter | Archive Link

Everyone’s attention was now focussed on Logan. Patton tried to motion for him to continue, but it was hard to do a one handed gesture when both your wrists are bound together. “Well? What’s the plan, specs?” Roman asked. He wanted this to be over with, he was getting tired from hovering in the one position while carrying a chubby cat-boy. “The plan,” Logan explained, “is for me to carry Patton and you carry Virgil. That way, the Salamanders will follow all of us. They will split up into smaller groups to follow us while we fly in different directions. We will fly back to the manor and the guards there will handle them.” It might just work.

The plan was set in motion. Roman and Logan somehow managed to swap passengers mid-air, and they set off toward opposite sides of the manor, which was only just in view. Shouts were heard as the salamanders approached and armoured soldiers ran onto both scenes. Roman could just see, around the manor, Logan was still there and he was still carrying Patton. Good.

While 5 of the soldiers went to get control of the salamander situation, another 3 headed for Roman and Virgil, one of them holding a strange contraption loaded with rope. So much rope in this place. It was aimed at Roman.

“Look out!” Virgil called, but it was too late. The device was fired, and the rope winded itself around Roman’s upper torso, holding his wings in a very uncomfortable position. The soldiers took the other end of the rope and began pulling the two escapees back to earth. “Where did you think you were going?” yelled the first, who had a very large mustache. Roman didn’t have an answer, and Virgil’s breaths were becoming very fast and very loud. Roman flapped his left wing, which was mostly unbound, but all that achieved was making him lopsided. One last pull, and the two hybrids came crashing down to the ground.

“Well, well, well.” Darien smirked, running his fingers along the bars. Why and how did he have a dungeon as well?! *It’s my fault the others will probably be punished now,* Roman though miserably. “An escape attempt? Tut, tut.” If only Darien would take his insufferable smirk elsewhere. “Though, I have to thank you Princey, I really do,” Darien continued. What was the creepy snake-face on about now? “For what?” Roman asked. Darien chuckled. “Thanks to you, I don’t have to put up nearly as much effort, and now, your little friends are my toys too!” He cackled.

Roman was grateful to be out of the dungeon and heading to his “room”, but his mood was ruined when he saw the other three waiting at the door to the “hall of bedrooms” and remembered their new fate. They silently headed into the hall when Patton suddenly rushed to his room. “We should probably check up on him.” Virgil stated. “Affirmative.” Logan agreed. They all headed for the now-locked door that Patton had went through. Inside was a sofa, a rug, various oversized cat climbing frames and on the rug was Patton, on the ground, playing with a large ball of yarn! Virgil went as close to as smile as he had ever been, Logan blushed and Roman muttered something that sounded like “Aww, cute kitty catton!” It was honestly too cute to be real. Then suddenly, Patton fell to the ground, snoring. That was the cue for the others to head to their respective rooms.

At around middle-night, Roman was still awake. His nest was still really uncomfortable and since his wings were properly secured so he couldn’t fly at all or even stretch them, he couldn’t curl up in them. Then, he heard someone begin talking at the end of the hall, that was most likely Logan. “Why must I sleep in a cave? I am a flying fox hybrid, and flying foxes are forest dwellers, not cave dwellers. Why is this room just one large stereotype?” Yup, definitely Logan. Thank goodness Darien appeared to be a heavy sleeper.

By the time sunrise came, Roman’s wings were so stiff that he would happily kill for a chance to stretch them properly. But he couldn’t because of the damn ropes. “Gurl, you’re not still sleepin’ are ya?” came a new voice from Darien’s room. “What?” Darien groaned. “Brought starbies.” the new voice said. A few minutes later, Darien walked out of his room with the source of the new voice by his side. The other boy was a human with purple hair, black tinted glasses and a black jacket. “Hey, everyone.” Darien called, shaking everyone from their sleep and getting their attention. “I want you to meet my brother, Remy. He will be staying here for the next few days and you are to treat him the way you will treat me; with respect and obedience and never arguing with what he says.” Remy walked over to Roman’s room. “Hey Dare, ya do remember our deal?”

The deal Remy and Darien made turned out to be that he got to keep one of the four hybrids for his stay, and apparently, he liked Patton best. Roman climbed out of his nest and headed for his door, ready to leave for his day of pain. Darien was standing at Roman’s already unlocked door, with a cast-iron skillet in hand. On his face was probably his most evil grin yet. “We’re going to give you a makeover today, Princey.” he said, before slamming the skillet into Roman’s forehead. Roman fell almost straight into unconsciousness.

“Finally, he’s stirring.” a voice said as Roman drifted into consciousness. He saw where he was. The first thing he thought was, *how many weird, creepy rooms does this guy have?!* This one was dimly lit, with no windows. “Ah, sleeping beauty awakens.” It was Darien. Roman tried to shift into another position because lying face-down on cold metal was not comfy in the slightest. When he tried, he discovered the leather straps holding him in place. “Don’t worry, Princey! We’re just going to get your lovely red wings done.” Darien said, his voice cold and slimy. Roman tried pulling out of the restraints. “Don’t worry, Princey, and don’t move an inch! We wouldn’t want to mess this up. We’re just doing a trim, see? There’s no need to struggle.” Roman heard the sound of metal objects being moved. He turned his head to look at Darien, who was now holding a pair of scissors. “Hold his wing out, you foolish dummy!” Darien called out. A guard appeared, seemingly, out of nowhere, then took hold of Roman’s wing, stretching it out.

Snip! Went some of Roman’s bloodred primary feathers. He flinched, causing his wing to move half an inch. It was pulled out again, and held harder. Darien continued trimming the beautiful feathers, Roman watching helplessly as they fell to the floor. After what felt like far too long, both wings no longer held a single, undestroyed primary feather. Roman’s wings no longer held their natural, smooth beauty, but he was glad it was finally over.

Roman’s bliss disappeared when he remembered he was strapped to a table with a scissor-wielding scaly psychopath looming over him. He heard Darien whisper something into Foolish Dummy’s ear, and saw Darien pull a key out of his pocket while the guard went to get something from the grungy cupboard in the corner.

Roman did not expect what Darien said next. “You get the rest of the day off. Don’t make me change my mind.” “Thank-” Roman began. “Just kidding! I’ve got a good idea!” Darien interrupted. “Bring the things!” Roman’s last thought before he was knocked out again was *Really, another frying pan?*

Roman woke up in darkness. The stuffy, scratchy darkness that was obtained by a hessian sack. His head throbbed and ached as if he’d been hit on the head twice with a cast-iron skillet. Oh. The details of what happened came flooding in. How he’d been knocked up. The straps on the table holding him in place. Darien trimming his gorgeous wings. The second cast-iron skillet. And now-OW! Something hit him on the arm that really didn’t feel like fruit. “Nice to see you’re awake again, welcome to my game!” Darien called from… somewhere. The bag was removed and Roman realised he was completely tied up (ha) right now. This new room was completely dark and seemed to go on forever. He tried to stand up because he had pins and needles from being on the one chair for so long. He couldn’t. He was strapped to the chair. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He called, hoping it wasn’t just him and Darien in a dark room. “Who-who’s there? I’m over here.” Came a voice that was definitely Virgil’s, and sounded like he was far away. This must have been a big room. “Virgil, it’s me. Prin-Roman. It’s me, Roman.” Roman called, the nickname Darien gave him still stuck in his mind. “Alright, here’s the deal. You two are the goals Bat-boy needs to get to. If he gets out of the maze with both of you alive, you all win and I don’t punish him. If he doesn’t you stay in the maze forever and he gets punished. He has an hour. You got that, Bat-boy? And none of this marco polo business.” Darien called from some kind of speaker. A horn sounded and Roman waited. And waited. There was a timer displayed in every corner, and when Logan found Roman, the timer was down to only 20 minutes left. “Logan, I’m proud. But where’s Virgil? Do you know?” Roman asked as Logan undid the straps. “I do not know. But we will almost certainly find him. This maze cannot be that big.” Logan reasoned. The last strap was undone and Roman stood up, grateful for a chance to finally stretch his legs. They ran through the maze toward the sound of hyperventilating when they came to a wall with a single torch on it. Logan put his pointy bat ear against the wall. “Virgil is in there but there are not any entrances.” Logan said, drawing his ear away. Roman pointed to something just behind the torch. “Look, some kind of paper. You can read, right?” Roman asked. Logan nodded and picked it up, reading it out loud.

Here lies a little deer Who never took a chance The only way to get in here Is turn the fire’s dance

“What?” Roman said, confused. Logan pushed him away to stand in front of the light. “I believe it is the key to getting into Virgil’s prison.” Logan said, pointing to the last two lines. “What does it say?” Roman asked. Logan looked at him. “I do not know what the words mean yet.” Logan said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “No, I mean-” Roman sighed and looked at his feet. “I don’t know how to read.” Roman wouldn’t make eye contact, thinking that Logan would look at him and go, *Ha! You’re such an idiot, I’m going to just leave you here in the maze to rot.* but Logan looked at him, confused. “I see.” He said. “Why will you not look me in the eye? It is perfectly fine not to be able to read.” Logan said, raising Roman’s chin a bit. “You don’t think I’m stupid?” Roman asked, surprised. “Of course not, I understand that you would rather spend your time learning how to sword-fight than being at school. That is just your personality, Roman.” Logan said, his voice softening. The bat’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Of course! I have figured out the riddle!” He cried, ruining the moment. “What? How do we get in?” Roman asked, looking up at the clock. 0:6:24, it read. Just six minutes left.

“You may want to hurry up, specs! We’re running out of time!” Roman yelled. Logan reached for the flame of the torch. “Aha-ow!” Logan yelled, turning something behind the torch. He retracted his badly burned hand, and the wall raised itself up. Virgil was inside, strapped to a table, a rotating blade going toward his magnificent horns, which had grown a bit in the last few days. Logan yelled something, but it was unhearable through the blade and the adrenaline. Then Roman did either the bravest or the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life. He tried to stop the blade.

He ran in between Virgil and the approaching circular, serrated piece of metal and grabbed onto the supports holding it together, pushing it up with all his might. Logan finished with the straps and Virgil slid off the table, thoroughly exhausted from all the adrenaline. Roman jumped down and ran after them as they ran through the doorway.

They finally reached the exit, but it was far too high up to even jump up and grab. They had to fly. Roman and Logan spread out his leathery wings, grabbed hold of Virgil in his talons and flew up and out. “Come on, Roman! Fly out!” Virgil called. Roman stretched his messy wings and flapped. He flew barely an inch. Logan rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath and retrieved Roman. “Roman, why didn’t-” He stopped, seeing Roman’s ruined feathers. “What happened to you?” Logan asked, holding the left wing open to examine the damage. Roman explained how he was knocked out, how he woke up in the weird room, how Darien trimmed his primary feathers, how he was knocked out again. Logan waited until he was finished to start talking. “So that was the loud noise I heard. And that is why you cannot fly until your primary feathers grow back. Typically, the primary feathers are the main feathers needed for flight. For now, you are flightless.” Logan explained. “And why your forehead’s swelling up to the size of a cow.” Virgil smirked, looking at the large lump forming. Roman was hurt. The best part about him was broken. Darien appeared, slow-clapping. “Looks like you actually did it, despite Princey’s uselessness.” he drawled, 3 guards appearing behind him. “As a reward, you get to be escorted by these lovely men to wherever Remy put your cat.” Darien said. He disappeared through the guards and off to wherever his evil lair was.

The dungeon again. Of course. Trust Darien’s brother to be just as cruel and self-centred as he was. Patton was allowed out of the cell, but the dungeon door was locked and the guards stood guard at it. “Guys! I missed you so much I was so lonely and that guy treats me more like a cat and less like a dad.” Patton rambled, his tail swinging wildly and his ears perking up. “Pat what’s that on your neck?” Virgil asked, lasers almost shooting out of his eyes. Patton rubbed the unwanted blue accessory.

“It’s just a collar. As I said, less like a dad, more like a cat. But a more pressing matter than my new necklace, Roman what happened to your wings?” Patton demanded, circling Roman to get a full view of the appendages, his ears flattening back as he surveyed the damage. Not again. Patton would try to murder Darien and Remy and everyone in the manor except for the other slaves if he found out about the skillets. So instead, Roman said, “Darien wanted to play wing salon.” Yes, that would work and Patton wouldn’t- “So he chopped up only your primary feathers?” oh.

“Don’t look at me that way, Roman. I’m smart too, y’know.” Patton said. “And you guys are exhausted, you should sit down!” Patton insisted. How did he know so much? They all sat down anyway. “Now start from the top, why are you all so beat up?” Both Virgil and Roman looked to Logan to give the explanation. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and sighed. “We were part of some sort of game that involved a dark maze and my intelligence being doubted as I freed Roman and Virgil. That is when we discovered Roman’s uhh…” Logan thought for a way to phrase *inability* without hurting Roman’s pride further. Patton nodded and fiddled with the heart-shaped pendant on his collar. After a period of catching up with each other’s days and hugging and is everyone OK, the second guard pounded on the door. “Time’s up!” He boomed, the guard on the inside of the door easily picking up Patton by the scruff of his neck and throwing him back in his cell, his ears barely visible through his fluffed-up hair. Virgil and Logan held Roman back from attacking the guard and getting vengeance.

Home (not) sweet home. Since Roman couldn’t fly anymore, Darien had decided to remodel his “room” which now looked more like a birdcage. The walls were lined with bars, a swing was hanging from the ceiling and there were pieces of paper lining the floor. This was his life now. And he really wanted to swoop in and rescue Patton again.

Trapped Free Spirit | Chapter 4

word count: 1876

Characters:  Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remy Sanders

warnings: a bit of violence that one might count as mild gore, captivity, uhh lemme know if I missed something!

pairings: Moxiety (platonic), Royality (platonic), Logicality (platonic), and the one I forgot to add, some beautiful platonic Logince!

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Archive Link

Previously: This was his life now. And he really wanted to swoop in and rescue Patton again.

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Days passed, and Remy was still there, so Roman savoured and got the most out of his visits to see Patton. They all did. Darien didn’t get any nicer, still finding joy in torturing the hybrids in anyway possible. But on a high note, Roman’s feathers were starting to grow back, meaning he could now glide short distances. Virgil’s horns were growing a bit, becoming more magnificent, but Logan was becoming blinder. Patton was getting thinner from only being fed cat food, and then one day Roman noticed something.

“Padre, how did that happen?” Roman asked, eying a huge, yellowish-purple bruise on Patton’s arm. He covered it with his hand. “Oh, that’s nothing. How’ve you all been?” Patton asked the other three, changing the subject. Virgil put a hand on his cardigan clad shoulder. “Pat, you don’t have to hide anything. We wanna look after you, too.” He said, a concerned expression on his face.  “Well, Remy hit me hard. He hit me because I didn’t go into the carrier like he wanted to.” Patton said, rubbing his neck where the blue collar was. The guard pounded on the door like they usually did to let them know their time was up, they were pushed out and Patton was thrown back into the cell like a discarded food scrap.

Roman paced back and forth in his cage. Technically, it was a room, but it had the purpose of a cage and looked like a giant birdcage, too. His feathers ruffled to get into a more comfortable position. Something felt off, like something bad was going to happen. He should’ve known that working for Darien meant basically nothing was ever good. And he also should’ve known to never trust Darien when the snake had another “wonderful idea” of which he had often.

Roman finally fell asleep and had another nightmare about his wings being trimmed and the maze and Patton with the collar that didn’t belong on someone like the feline furball. Then Darien woke them all up again. “Wake up, we’re going to have some more fun today! Princey, we’re going to witness a dragon witch, and you and your friends get to fight it!” Roman rolled over and sat up. The floor was very uncomfortable. He was not in the mood for this. Darien unlocked the three currently occupied rooms, and the hybrids walked out.

Ah, the arena. Probably the second-last place Roman wanted to be right about now. He got into the chestplate and helmet he wore last time, picking up the katana. Logan picked up a bow and somehow strapped a quiver of arrows on his back. Virgil hadn’t done much yet, quite clearly scared. Roman examined the choices, before deciding on a dagger for him. “Here, this might work.” He said, handing it to the deer hybrid. Virgil took it carefully. Roman opened the door and they all headed through.

The gate on the opposite end of the arena slid open, and the dragon witch climbed out. It was small for a dragon, about three times the size of Roman. It had glimmering, deep purple scales, and its eyes were red with black slits. It snorted out purple sparkles, turning part of the sand into shards of glass. Roman wielded the sword the best he could, and Logan nocked an arrow. Virgil held the dagger out shakily. *Virgil doesn’t stand a chance,* Roman thought. He stood in front of him defensively. Suddenly, an arrow sprouted out of its neck. Logan was already nocking another arrow. “Nice shot, specs!” Roman called. Logan gave a small smile, shooting another arrow. The dragon breathed its purple flames at the arrow, turning it into a feather. Roman looked over to Logan, who was pacing. He stopped, and flew up into the air, no doubt to survey everything.  “Any chance you could share what you’re planning, specs?” Roman called. Logan flew back to the ground, narrowly missing another burst of the lilac flames.  “I was searching for a weak spot, though I cannot seem to find one.” Logan said. The dragon-witch began making its way over to the group, clearly intent on a snack. Roman held his sword aloft and charged, distracting it from the others. Logan used this to his advantage, loosing another arrow into the dragon’s throat. It coughed and tried to breathe more flames, but the arrow had lodged itself firmly into its fire gland. Roman stabbed his sword, albeit rather clumsily, into the dragon’s soft belly scales, earning an angry roar. There it was, an opening.  “Virgil, give me your dagger.” Logan said. Virgil shakily nodded and handed over the weapon. Logan nocked the dagger into his bow and loosed.

The dagger flew straight, launching itself right in the dragon’s chest. It gave one, last roar before collapsing, dead. Roman picked a scale from it, rolling the shiny, purple disk over in his hand. He walked over to the other two, who were a lot less tense now that they weren’t about to die a horrible death.  “Well done, Logan! Spectacular killing blow!” Roman exclaimed, clapping him on the back. Logan gave a small smile.  “Well done, you didn’t die. /Hate/ to break up the celebration, but… get out of my arena right now.” Darien called from his stand. Right, he still existed. The three made their way to the armoury and returned the armour and weapons, and headed out to the hall. Darien was standing there, already waiting for them with an unimpressed look on his face.  “Well, after that /wonderful/ performance, I guess I’ll just need something a bit more interesting. But for now, target practise!” He said. Just great, target practise always meant large amounts of fruit, all aimed at them. The trio followed the snake through the winding corridors to the “Target Practise Room” as Darien called it. It was basically a huge, white room with obstacles and random blocks everywhere, and Darien always had fruit with him, somehow.

They got their 1-second head start and Darien gave chase, pelting them with his ever-present, never-ending supply of fruit. Logan and Roman were allowed to use their wings since it was an enclosed room, but Virgil only had his legs to get around on. But he was surprisingly fast. Roman flew up to the top of a tall faux-tree, and watched as Darien tried to catch up with Virgil. Logan must have been hiding, because he was nowhere in sight. Darien caught sight of Roman and threw a rather squishy orange at him, which splatted him right in the face. He wiped off some of the fruit, scowling. Virgil caught sight of him and burst out laughing, until he himself got hit on the back by a fruit. Roman’s spirits lifted just a bit.

Roman glided from obstacle to obstacle, avoiding the fruit but still getting hit on multiple occasions until it looked like he got into a fight with a fruit salad. Virgil looked no better, and Logan was still nowhere to be seen. Darien stopped running after Virgil, looking a bit exhausted. “This is no fun. Come on, we’re all going to our rooms.” He huffed. Roman flew down to the door and Virgil came out from the corner of the room, and Logan was still nowhere to be found.  “Where’s batboy? I said, We’re going. He should be here.” Darien said. No response, apart from the nervous shuffling of Roman’s wings. Darien shrugged and turned to exit the room, snapping his fingers to indicate for them to follow.

Roman still hated his bird-cage-room, especially when he was locked in it. And he was locked in it. Virgil was doing who-knows-what in his room, not responding when Roman tried to talk to him. Logan still hadn’t been found, and he was slightly worried. Suddenly, footsteps sounded through the Hall of Rooms, three sets, it sounded like. Two sets were coordinated and well-trained, and the other set sounded like whoever it was was being half dragged down the hall. The three people came into view. The first two were guards, like Roman suspected, and the last one was Logan, wrapped up in his own wings and bound to keep him from moving much, it appeared. The first guard knocked on Darien’s door.  “What?” Darien drawled. The guard opened the door and Darien appeared. “Sir, I believe this is yours? He was flying away from the manor, but we got ‘im before he got far.” The guard said, the second guard pushing Logan forward. Darien grinned. “Batboy! I was wondering where you were. I should show you what happens to naughty pets who disobey their masters.” Darien said. “Thank you, you may go.” He added, shooing the guards away. They left, and his grin intensified. Logan looked genuinely terrified. Darien grabbed the edge of his wing and dragged him off.

When Roman woke up from a short, restless nap, Logan was back in his room, by the sound of things. He decided to see for certain. “Logan? You there?” He asked.  “Yes.” Logan replied. Good. “What happened?” He asked, hoping to see if the boy was ok. “I would rather not talk about it.” Logan replied. Oh. So Logan wasn’t going to say anything yet. Well, better let him take his time.

Darien shuffled out of his room and started unlocking their doors.  “All of you except bat-brain over there, you get to see your cat.” He said, unlocking Virgil’s room. Virgil walked out and over to Roman’s room, waiting for Darien to unlock his room. The door was unlocked and the two were taken to the dungeon, where Patton was waiting for them. He rushed over to greet them, his tail and ears sticking straight up.  “Hi guys! Wait, where’s Lolo?” Patton asked, confused. Virgil stepped forward and took Patton’s hands in his own. “Logan tried to escape. He’s not allowed to see you.” He explained. Patton’s face dropped a bit. Virgil hugged him tightly. “Is he alright?” he asked, concerned. Trust Patton to be so sweet and caring, and be concerned for just about everyone except himself.  “We don’t know, Pat. We really don’t. Logan won’t tell us anything. But I’m sure he’s fine.” Virgil half-whispered. Roman was still watching. “This is so pure,” He whispered to no-one.

The three spent their time talking and playing Patty-cake, which Roman taught them from his time out of slavery, and which Patton wanted to rename “Patton-cake” so some changes were made. Virgil stayed close to Patton at all times, almost protectively. Patton almost sobbed when it was time to go.  “We will be back, Padre,” Roman reassured as he headed toward the door. Virgil gave one last hug, before heading out as well. They were taken back to their rooms to sleep, well, hopefully sleep. Emphasis on the hopefully. Roman hardly slept, constantly thinking back to Logan’s escape attempt. On the one hand, his actions made sense, since this place was a living hell and Roman had done the same before, but on the other, did he really try leave them behind? Obviously so. He drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Woo, finally! I am SO eternally sorry for the wait, but here it is! The elusive chapter 4! Well, enjoy!

99 Luftballons

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders

Ships: platonic prinxiety (I think) 

Triggers: None, I think. 

Archive Link

Virgil never let anyone know he knew German. Though, when he was certain no one was anywhere nearby in the mindscape he risked listening to it, and very occasionally singing along. Now was one of those moments. He was sprawled across the couch with one leg over the headrest and an arm hanging off the side. Logan said it was bad for him to sit like that, but it was comfy. He turned up the music in his headphones. “Hast du etwas Zeit für mich,” he began, the soft tune starting. “Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich von neunundneunzig Luftballons,” he sang along. The lyrics were a bit weird, talking about a war started by a few balloons, but he couldn’t help but melt at the sound. “Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont denkst du vielleicht grad an mich dann singe ich ein Lied für dich von neunundneunzig Luftballons und, dass so was von so was kommt,” he sang. The beat picked up, a strong drum beat starting. He sang louder, belting out each word. No one was around anyway, so it was fine, right? “Wow.” someone said from the doorway. Apparently he wasn’t alone. He sat up quickly and threw his headphones off. “Virgil, I didn’t know you could sing German so beautifully.” it was Roman, staring at him. “How much did you hear?” he yelled frantically. “Not much, enough to know you sing amazing.” Roman said. Virgil felt his cheeks flush. “Pff, whatever. Just… go away, Princey.” he said. Roman strode off, chuckling to himself. Virgil pushed away his anxious thoughts and put his headphones back on, back to his 99 luftballons.

Hi guys! I was listening to my music (specifically 99 Luftballons by Nena (great song I highly reccommend it (yes I listen to 1980′s German music don’t judge me))) and I just had the thought of, “Hey, what if Virgil sang this song?” So here we are. Enjoy this little slice of whatever it is, my lovelies! :) -Roma

Welcome to my Life

The title is the song Welcome to my Life by Simple Plan

Tags: Isolation, trauma, nightmares, sympathetic Deceit and Remus, abusive Patton, let me know if I missed anything!

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“Now, now, Deceit, what did I say about trying to get Thomas to lie?” Patton asked, with a grin that was just a bit too wide. Deceit gulped. 

“Don’t.” he said, quietly. 

“That’s right! But you did anyway. And you know what happens when you don’t obey direct orders.” the father figure said, still maintaining that ghastly grin. The scaly side nodded, avoiding eye contact. 

“This was your last warning. Come with me.” Patton said. Deceit looked away. He didn’t know if he wanted to follow him or risk worse punishment. 

“Come with me, Deceit. Now, preferably.” Patton ordered, firmer. He made his decision and walked after the moral side. He led him to his room. Patton stood by the door and looked at him expectantly. 

“Go in.” the man said. Deceit walked in slowly, heart pounding. He headed over to his bed and sat down. He saw the door shut and heard a lock click. Of course, isolation again. He curled into a ball on the bed and sobbed. 

Deceit didn’t know how long he had been in his room, but it seemed like it had been long enough. He should be let out any moment now. He got up and headed to the door, and stood there. And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Alright, he miscalculated. But it was best to check. He knocked on the door and waited for a response. It felt colder near the door than usual, he noticed. He pulled his cloak closer around him and sat down. He knocked again, a bit louder this time. Still no response. 

“Is anyone there?” he asked, still hopeful for a response. Any moment now, someone would come and get him. Any moment now. 

“Hello? Anyone?” he asked again. This wasn’t right. It was too quiet to be normal. Maybe everyone was asleep. That was it, everyone was asleep. That meant he should be asleep. He headed back to his bed and pulled the sheet over himself. He would get some good, undisturbed sleep and he would be let out in the morning. He kept those hopes in mind as he drifted off. 

It was dark, so dark and the room was empty, apart from Deceit. He looked around frantically for a way out when he spotted a door. He ran to the door and tugged on the handle, desperate to get out. It was locked. Then the walls and ceiling started closing in on him. The door disappeared and he ran into the middle of the room as it slowly got smaller. Now the room had halved in size. Now it was only a quarter of its original size. The walls were almost touching him. 

“You know what happens when you don’t obey direct orders, right?” a chilling yet familiar voice said. 

Deceit’s eyes flung open as he screamed. He sat himself up, tears streaming down his face. He rubbed them away and got himself up. He shuffled to the door and tried the handly. Still locked. He sat down and let the tears flow out. Then something very unexpected happened. 

“Hello, is someone being brutally murdered in there? If so, could you be a bit quieter? You’re scaring Virgil.” a voice said. He didn’t recognise the voice. 

“Hello.” he replied. 

“So someone IS in there! Hi, I’m Remus!” the voice said. 

“My name is Deceit.” he replied. 

“Funny, you’re the first side I’ve met who’s named after what they represent! At least, I’m assuming you represent deceit. Are you gonna come out?” Remus asked. 

“Can’t.” he said. 

“Why not?” Remus asked. 

“Door. Locked.” he said. “Please could you let me out?” 

“I mean I could try, how? Do I need a key? I don’t see a keyhole. Do I need to cut someone’s finger off?” Remus asked. 

“Knob on the handle. Turn it.” he explained. He heard the lock click. He got out of the way as the door swung open. He could finally see what this Remus character looked like. He wore an outfit that resembled Roman’s, just more frilly, sparkly and the opposite colour scheme. He had a grey streak in his hair, a curly moustache and a big grin. Deceit cautiously walked out of the room and toward the grinning man. He left the door open. 

“Scales!” he said. 

“I’m so sorry the makeup must have rubbed off in my sleep I’ll cover them up as soon as-”

“What are you talking about? Don’t cover them up, they’re cool!” Remus said, interrupting his rambling. Deceit gave him a confused look. 

“It’s a compliment!” Remus grinned. 

“Why? I’m not worth complimenting.” he said. 

“Who told you that? You know what, you seem new. I’ll show you around! Come with me!” Remus said. Deceit froze up on the spot. Patton had always said that before… before… 

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something wrong?” a voice said. He felt a hand on his shoulder. A hand. On his shoulder. 

“Patton says that when… when he…” sobs wracked his body, leaving him unable to finish his sentence. 

“The light side? He’s not here now, he’s in the mindscape. He won’t hurt you anymore.” Remus said, pushing something into his hand. It was a small pillow that felt like it had rice or something in it. He turned it in his hand. 

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. The tour can wait.” Remus said, getting up. Deceit got up as well. When did he sit down again? It didn’t matter, what mattered was food. He followed Remus through a few hallways and into a kitchen. It was mostly made of a dark wood, unlike the white marble of the mindscape’s kitchen. 

“All we have at the moment is sandwiches, neither of us are really that good at cooking.” Remus explained. 

“Alright.” he said. Remus grabbed two sandwiches from the fridge and passed one to Deceit. He cautiously took a bite of the sandwich, then another, then dug right in and soon it was finished. 

“Who’s that?” a new voice came from the doorway. 

“Hey, Virgil! This is Deceit, and he’s from the mindscape!” Remus grinned. 

“He doesn’t look like a light side.” the emo-looking side said. 

“Not a light side.” Deceit mumbled. 

“Well whatever you are, it’s late. D’you have a place to sleep?” he asked. 

“N-no. No I don’t.” the scaly side replied. He technically did, but what if his room was moved back into the mindscape while he was still in there? This place seemed safe, wherever “this place” was. 

“Huh. Well the couch is free until something’s worked out, so…” Virgil said. 

“Thank you, sir.” he said. The emo chuckled. 

“Virge’ll do, thanks. We don’t do formalities here.” he said. 

“Right, sorry.” Deceit apologised. 

“Nothing to apologise for! But it’s bedtime now, according to Virge so nighty night!” Remus said, disappearing. 

“Anyways, we’ll talk in the morning, maybe. Living room’s down the hall. There’s no door there, but it’ll do. Night.” Virge said, also heading off. Deceit made his way to the living room and curled up on the couch. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.