Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Original Female Character(s)
Characters: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Original Female Character(s), Morality | Patton Sanders
Additional Tags: Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Fae, i dont normally specify that this late in the game but its bell and v, and theyre VERY fae, and its plot relevant fae-ness, Fae Culture, Platonic Kissing, Burns, might veer into Gore, but i dont think its quite that bad
Series: Part 189 of LAOFT Extras
Summary:
Virgil and Bell have a very, very bad miscommunication.
Hello! You asked me to tag you last time I drew something for your laoft fic series, and so I've tagged you in this one as well! :D
I can't remember what I was watching but I was suddenly reminded of your work and so I've been re-reading it for the millionth time. So, I drew another Virgil! I think (could be wrong) he technically has shorter hair but I've always pictured him with long, silk-like hair. I've made him as pretty as my artistic abilities allowed. I hope I've done him some justice!
Also traditional rather than digital this time around, mostly because all I have access to at the moment is paper and pen.
Patton had thought about kissing the fairy prince far more than was probably strictly appropriate; he’d wondered what it might be like, but nothing he’d imagined covered it even slightly.
The prince’s palms were cradling Patton’s face, impossibly gentle, like he was handling a soap bubble with his bare hands – and yet Patton was acutely aware of a buzzing under his own skin, like his hair standing on end just before lightning struck.
-Love and Other Fairy Tales by @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors
Summary: Janus and his brother never got along, but when Virgil is poisoned in a fae uprising, Janus will stop at nothing to find the cure. Remus and his brother have grown apart, but Roman is about to make a dangerous deal, and Remus is the only one who can stop him. Maybe they can help each other out...
Or, LAOFT with soft Dukeceit
Characters: Janus, Virgil, Greta, Remus, Roman
Relationships: Romantic Dukeceit, familial Creativitwins, familial Janus and Virgil
Warnings: Poison, violence, minor character death, antagonist death, main character does murders
Word count: 3244
Also posted on my ao3: stormofstarlight
Author’s note: This is based on the amazing series Love and Other Fairytales by @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors . Thanks to the wonderful people in the LAOFT server for encouraging me to write this!! This is an au where Remus is Roman's twin brother. Durant isn't in this, instead Janus is Virgil's brother.
Janus watched from the shadows as his brother returned to the forest, back from visiting her. Virgil had only known that witch for a decade or so, barely the blink of an eye in their long lives, but he spent almost every waking moment with her and her family, neglecting his own. He even left hardly any time to attend to his beloved forest. It was telling of how sentimental Virgil was, that he dedicated so much time and energy to a human who would soon be lost to the unrelenting claws of mortality – or perhaps it was more telling that Janus was so bothered by a mere few years of his brother not being around as often.
“Well, well, well,” Janus drawled as he stepped from the shadows. He hardly ever managed to startle his brother anymore, but he took delight in the way Virgil squeaked in surprise as he noticed him. “Decided to finally return home, have you?”
Virgil huffed, barely sparing a glance at Janus as he pushed past him into the trees. “I just came to get my new cloak; I want to show Grettie.”
Janus curled his lip. Grettie. Such a juvenile nickname, yet it was achingly affectionate. Nothing like Adder, a nickname Virgil only used because Janus refused to reveal his real name. “I don’t see why you spend so much time with that mortal,” Janus said, hurrying after his brother. “They’re terribly frail, aren’t they? And their lifespans are so short-”
In a flash, Janus was pressed up against a tree with a knife to his throat. Virgil had always been faster than him.
“If you hurt her…” Virgil hissed, his menacingly low voice sending a chill down Janus’ spine. The fiercely protective look in his eyes was like nothing Virgil had directed at Janus before. Maybe years ago, a similar look in those same eyes would have been used to defend him, but not anymore.
“I never said anything about hurting her,” Janus said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Virgil gave him a distrustful glare, but after a moment of consideration he released Janus and let him slump against the tree. He didn’t say anything else as he collected the cloak from his web.
Janus folded his arms to collect himself as he watched, his breaths coming out a little ragged. This was ridiculous, he chided himself. He shouldn’t be shaken by a mere threat, wouldn’t have been if it had come from any other fae. But Virgil was different, and not just because of his power. Every glare and scathing remark cut at something deep within him. They were brothers, created to be each other’s companions. A set. But somehow, they just didn’t fit together.
Virgil sent a wary glance back at Janus as he left the clearing, and as he turned away something broke in Janus’ chest.
Whatever. Fine. If Virgil wanted to spend all his time with the witch, so be it. If he’d decided he'd rather have a different sibling, it was no skin off Janus’ back. And as long as Janus didn’t try to say it out loud, maybe he could convince himself that was true.
A scream echoing through the forest ripped him from his thoughts.
Before Janus fully processed the sound, he took off running. Because that was the witch’s scream, and when someone was protected by the most powerful being in the forest, the only thing that could make them scream was if something happened to that being.
He thundered through the trees, not caring about what he trampled or how many branches he snapped. All that mattered was that he got to Virgil, before it was-
Too late.
The sight that greeted him when he reached the edge of the forest made his heart stop. The witch was crouched on the ground, wailing as she hunched over Virgil’s writhing body.
Virgil let out an anguished cry, and Janus rushed forward.
“Stay back!” The witch shrieked.
Janus did no such thing. He knelt by his brother’s side, and took his face in his hands. Virgil’s eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, his mouth contorted in agony.
This had to be poison. And a fast-acting one too.
Virgil had minutes at the most.
Janus’ vision blurred, and he vaguely registered the sensation of tears running down his face, but he paid them no heed. He summoned all the energy he could, calling to the furthest reaches of the forest as he grasped for something, anything that would help Virgil stay alive-
A blast erupted from his chest, sending forth all the magic he could gather. The ground shook underneath him and the air tremored, the sound leaving his ears ringing. He blinked away the spots that danced in his vision, and looked down at his brother.
Virgil was still.
Not moving, not breathing.
But looking at his serene face, Janus knew he was alive.
“What did you do to him?” The witch asked, her voice low and furious. Fiercely protective, as Virgil had been of her.
“He’s asleep,” Janus stated, his voice seeming distant even from himself. Asleep, but alive.
Janus carefully took the cloak that rested around Virgil’s shoulders. There had been attempts on Virgil’s life in the past, but never before had he been so careless as to let one of his possessions be tampered with. Sure enough, as Janus inspected it he noticed thorns laced through the stitching – so small they were almost invisible, the tips shimmering ever so slightly. Definitely poison.
Careful not to let any of the thorns nick his skin, Janus folded the cloak in his lap, and turned back to his brother and the girl who knelt beside him. He could leave Virgil with the witch – with Greta – and he would be in good hands. Perhaps they weren’t related by blood, but Greta cared for Virgil as much as Janus did, that much was clear.
Janus stalked off into the forest, whispering useless prayers under his breath. He knew of nobody more powerful than himself and his brother, but Virgil had always talked about a Mother who watched over them, and now all Janus could do was hope there was more truth to that than he had always believed.
It didn’t take long to find the usurpers – a crowd of fae were gathered in the forest, already revelling in celebration. Fools.
“The rebels who deposed the Spider King, I presume?” Janus asked as he stepped into their clearing, keeping a lazy gait to his step and a lightness to his voice that he didn’t feel.
All conversation ceased, only a few hushed whispers exchanged as the fae glanced worriedly at each other.
After a moment, one stepped forward. The pixie tilted his chin high, but his steps were tentative. “You, uh- presume correctly, Sire.”
Janus clapped his hands together once, the sound resonating through the clearing, and let a wicked smirk work its way onto his face. “You mean to tell me that you poisoned my brother, leaving him indisposed so that I may rule in his stead?”
The relief that washed over the clearing was palpable, and the pixie’s shoulders sagged. “Why, yes. We have always thought that you would be a superior leader, Your Highness.”
“Yeah!” Yelled a voice from the crowd. “Nothing like your brother, those humans have made him go soft.”
Janus chuckled, taking a few steps forward. “So, you think that my brother is too soft? And you want a stronger king?”
He was met with fervent nods from the crowd.
“And you all had a hand in his disposal?”
Eager murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the clearing. They really were foolish.
Janus reached out and took hold of the pixie’s chin, examining him. The greedy glimmer in his eyes was familiar to Janus by now, one that made men do awful deeds to gain power, but spinelessly grovel before anyone with more than them. “Well, in that case, I’ll give you exactly what you deserve.” He squeezed, and with a sickening crack of his skull the pixie went limp in his grip.
As the body sagged to the floor, shrieks echoed through the clearing. The crowd of fae scattered, diving for the cover of the trees and trampling their comrades in their rush to safety. Janus knelt, and slammed a hand onto the ground. The pulse of energy sent cracks through the earth itself, and cowardly fae in all directions crumpled to the ground as it hit them.
Janus surveyed the clearing around him, now littered with the bodies of traitors. Only one of the rebels remained, cowering in the bushes as if staying still would somehow make them invisible.
Janus stalked over to them and grabbed their collar, pulling them upright.
“Please, I didn’t- this wasn’t my idea, I just… I was just here, please don’t-”
“Shush,” Janus snapped. “If you want to live, you will run. Run through the forest and find every fae you can. Tell them, the Serpent King is on the throne.”
-----
Remus knew he was weird. He was the weird kid nobody at school wanted to speak to, who practically lived in the woods and could never seem to keep his fingernails clean. Who had no second thoughts about grabbing scones straight out of the oven no matter how many times Logan warned him they’d be scalding. Who wore shorts in the middle of winter and kept a raccoon in his room.
It hadn’t been so bad when he’d had his brother, but since Roman had found his own group of misfits the two of them had grown apart.
But now, Roman was about to make a huge mistake, and Remus couldn’t let him face it on his own.
“You shouldn’t do this,” Remus warned from his spot on Roman’s floor. He’d lounged here many a time before, when the two of them had been making up stories and laughing. But now he felt small, looking up at his brother who sat on his bed with folded arms. Roman’s cat stalked between the two of them, and while Dizzy had always been affectionate with Remus even when Roman himself had ignored him, even she seemed wary. Remus stroked the tail of his pet raccoon, and Iago curled tighter around his shoulders, almost as if he could sense Remus’ distress. Though, throughout the years Iago had proved more receptive to Remus’ emotions than most people.
“Oh, so now the guy who’s gotten suspended three times in the past year wants me to think about the consequences of my actions?” Roman raised an eyebrow, looking for all the world as if he couldn’t care less, but Remus heard the uncertainty in his voice. It was rare for his brother to be scared, and even less common for him to show it.
Remus threw up his hands. “Getting in trouble at school isn’t the same as making a deal with one of the fae. Roman, this is serious-”
“I know!” Roman snapped, a wild determination in his eyes. Then he leaned back against the wall. Dizzy hopped up onto the bed next to him, and Roman pulled her towards him. “I have to do this… for him. You didn’t see how sad he was, Re, you don’t understand.”
Remus did understand. He understood Roman better than anyone, and it was impossible not to notice the way Roman looked at Logan – or at Patton, for that matter. And how when one of the was sad, he would stop at nothing until he could slay whatever beast was troubling them.
“I have to do this,” Roman repeated, as if steeling himself. “So Logan can go to college. Because otherwise, he’ll never be able to leave. And I can’t just let him stay under his mother’s control for the rest of his life.”
Remus stared him down for a long moment, but Roman didn’t waver. Sighing heavily, Remus stood to leave the room. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at his brother. “Whatever. Goodnight Roman.”
“Night, Remus,” Roman muttered.
The two of them had shared until Remus had found Iago, and Roman had pointedly refused to share a room with a raccoon. Remus had been a little disheartened at the time, and couldn’t help wishing they were as close as Logan and his brother Thomas, but now he was glad of it.
Closing the door firmly behind him, he picked up his knife. Pulling the hem of his favourite T-shirt away from his body so it wouldn’t catch his skin, he sliced through the fabric, cutting a jagged strip.
He set Iago down on the bed, giving him a little scratch behind his ears. “You stay here, buddy. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Nothing could stop Roman from making the deal, but he couldn’t exactly do much about it if Remus did it first.
-----
It was a clear night; clear enough for the waxing moon to light Remus’ way as he skirted around the edge of the village. Only now did Remus realise that it was a little too close to being full for comfort, and he thanked whatever cosmic force was out there that the conversation hadn’t happened a few days later.
He rubbed his arms as he approached the hanging tree, wishing he’d had the presence of mind to bring a jacket. In fact, he was woefully unprepared for this entire encounter – he hadn’t even brought a charm for good luck, though at least he’d remembered to leave his knife at home. Attempting to make a deal with a powerful fae while armed would be inadvisable to say the least.
The hanging tree was already littered with numerous scraps of fabric, trailing limply from the branches in the chilly wind. Remus wondered, briefly, if this deal would prove as ineffectual as all of its predecessors. Because nobody made a deal with the fae and came out on top.
But if he didn’t do this, Roman would. So, strengthening his resolve, Remus wrapped the ragged piece of cloth around the branch and knotted it tightly, hoping he wasn’t tying his own noose in the process.
He cleared his throat, and spoke into the wind. “I’m here to barter for the changeling boy’s freedom.”
Remus always hated waiting, but the seconds ticking by now became unbearable as he fidgeted with the frayed fabric of his T-shirt. He glanced down at the hem mournfully; it had been one of his favourite tops, but at least the messy edge suited his style.
After what might have been minutes or hours, he began to get the distinct sense that he wasn’t alone. He almost jumped back in shock as he looked up, because standing right in front of him, less than a meter away, was a figure with his face obscured under a hood. His lips were curved into an amused smirk, and Remus briefly wondered how long the fae had been watching him fiddle with the frayed hem of his clothes.
“Well, out with it,” the fae boy prompted, leaning languidly against the tree. “You want the changeling boy’s freedom – what will you offer in return?”
“Oh, right…” Remus rubbed the loose threads of the hem between his fingers – at this rate, the T-shirt would be in tatters by morning, although hopefully he wouldn’t be stood out in the cold for that long. He just needed to get this deal over with, and think of something he could give. But it wasn’t like he owned anything that the fae could want; his house wasn’t exactly filled with treasure, and he wasn’t particularly skilled in any area that might be useful. All he really had to offer was… himself.
“I could help you,” he offered lamely, after a long pause.
The fae boy actually let out a chuckle, the low sound making Remus shiver. He leaned forward, folding his arms. “And what do you propose that you, a human, could help me with?”
“Anything you need,” Remus blurted, while his brain screamed at him that this was a bad idea, very very bad idea. But he didn’t have anything else to offer. “If you need, like… someone to do a task for you. Or to help you find something.”
The fae’s jaw tightened, and he cocked his head to the side. “I’m listening...”
Remus took a breath. “Well, I’m sure you’re really busy, so like if there’s ever anything you don’t have time to do or something, I could do it for you. Like, odd jobs and stuff.”
“Alright then,” the fae mused, “and now, a time frame.”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked.
The fae boy’s lip curled into a frown. “Well, since the curse was placed on the changeling by his mother, only she can undo it permanently. But I can… keep it at bay for a few years, so to speak.”
Remus bit his lip. He hadn’t planned for Logan’s freedom to only be temporary, but then he hadn’t planned much of anything. “College would take him three or four years,” he muttered, counting the numbers out on his fingers. “Maybe longer, and he still has a few years of school left… Um, seven years?” He raised his head to look back at the fae boy, who seemed to be watching him curiously.
With a quick nod, the fae boy extended a hand. “Seven years it is. Shall we shake on it?”
Remus hesitated. “So, L- the changeling can leave Wickhills for seven years, so he can go to college. And in return…”
“You shall give seven years of service to me,” the fae boy finished.
Remus looked down at the hand, still extended, beckoning him to shake it and seal the deal. Service to one of the fae may not be pleasant, but he could have come off far worse in the deal. Besides, he was doing this to keep his brother safe.
For Roman. Before he could loose his nerve, Remus grasped the fae boy’s hand with his own. His fingers brushed against cold scales, but he didn’t recoil.
As the fae retracted his hand, he swept back his hood.
Remus knew that fae were often considered ethereal, even beautiful, but nothing could have prepared him for how his heart stuttered as he laid eyes on the most captivating boy he’d ever seen. Iridescent green and gold scales glistened in the moonlight. They curved around his eyes – one a stunning yellow, the other a radiant green.
And Remus suddenly realised just how deep he’d thrown himself into this. Because the fae he’d just made a deal with was unmistakeably the Serpent King.
“The changeling is free,” the Serpent King said. “I shall call on you when I need you.”
“Wait!” Without thinking, Remus shot out his hand and grabbed the Serpent King's wrist, which was just about the stupidest thing he could have done. “I thought… aren’t you going to take the seven years all at once?”
The Serpent King shook his grip off with a glare. “I said no such thing. It would be far more beneficial for me to… borrow pieces of your time when needed.”
“But, the changeling-”
The Serpent King waved a dismissive hand. “His seven years shall pass linearly… I’m not a monster, despite what you might hear.”
“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Remus said quickly.
Something crossed the Serpent King’s face, but Remus couldn’t quite read it. “Very well. I shall see you soon.”
Alright, lemme tell ya one of the reasons I like laoft Greta as much as I do and teach you useless geman grammar while I’m at it. This is probably way more than was ever meant to be read into this since I doubt @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors is even really aware of it but oh well.
So, the first time Greta meets Virgil, she isn’t exactly polite, as we all know, but considering that the whole conversation technically takes place in german it goes even further.
As many people likely know german is a language that uses both a forman you (Sie) and an informal you (du). English used to too but in german it’s extremly important to this day. If you want to call someone you have to call sie’ ‘du’ you have to ask for permission or you get in trouble. (To make this easier on my self: the act of calling someone Sie is ‘siezen’ or (to) ‘siez’, for du it’s ‘duzen’ and (to) ‘duz’)
For instance Greta, as a young teen would have to siez any and all adults and people of authority (let’s be real she probably didn’t) and seeing when she lived probaly even some elder family members. Other close family and people her age or younger would’ve been the only people she’s be allowed to duz.
Now Virgil at the time was also in his teens (well physically at least), a bit older than her I think (might be wrong) but agewise still kinda in the du zone. Would advise to siez anyway to avoid offending but du is fine.
However, he’s a fae. Aka automatically a person of respect aka she would have to siez him, which as Tulip mention once, she didn’t. This is already bad enough to justify a hex to most fae (most likely, I just know that teachers get mad, I imagine fae are worse).
But here’s the thing: Even sie would’ve been too informal and rude.
That’s right, german can get even more formal. Because Virgil is royalty. He’s a prince, not to mention the lord of the whole damn forset, which Greta claims to have known when he tells her.
For royalty there’s this special little thing called Pluralis Majestatis or Mehrzahl der Hoheit or to roughly translate Plural of Highness. Which is exactly what it sounds like. People of extremly high standing aka royals or maybe church officials are referred to in plural. ‘Ihr’ or ‘euch’ for example.
Greta walked up to the most high standing person she probably met in her whole life and hit him with a fucking ‘du’. She really went to a fae prince and asked him for directions as if she was talking to a kid and I think that’s beautiful.
