#paternal anxceit

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 34/?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word count: 1448

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Anxceit, familial Moxiety

Warnings: kidnapping, past domestic abuse

~~~START~~~

The twins made for a very effective moving service, moving all of Roman’s stuff down to the third floor and what little stuff Virgil, Patton, and Remy had up to the fourth floor in just over an hour.

The best part of Roman’s apartment was that there were two bedrooms. Patton was already used to the guest room, so Virgil had Remy take the main bedroom. She’d tried to refuse, saying that Virgil should have the room after spending almost a year sharing a room with his son, but Virgil insisted.

Remy had her space, Patton had his, and Virgil was sleeping on the couch. It was fine, really.

Virgil was doing fine.

Logan’s mother, Babs, had come down to join them for dinner; Logan had not joined them on account of Remy refusing to be in the same room as him. Remy had been hesitant about her paternal grandmother at first — so had Virgil if he was being honest, and he would have to be honest seeing as how Janus had told him that Babs was clairvoyant — but Babs hadn’t pushed, and by the time she left, Remy had been more relaxed around her than she’d been earlier.

Once Babs had gone, Roman left to get settled into his new space, with Remus following behind. Remy disappeared into her room soon after, leaving just Virgil, Patton, and Janus in the living area.

“You know, you could come stay with me, if you wanted,” Janus offered.

The three of them had moved to the living room so Patton could watch a little bit of My Neighbor Totoro before bed. Patton was already pretty tuckered out, as evidenced by the way he had tucked himself into Virgil’s side, but he was putting up a valiant effort to watch the movie.

“That’s a sweet offer, Jan, but I don’t want to be so far away from Patton.”

“I have a spare room,” Janus tried, but Virgil was already shaking his head.

“Remy needs to have an adult she can trust around right now, and I’m the only one here who currently fits the bill. Besides, all those stairs will help you get your steps in,” Virgil teased.

Janus stuck their tongue out. “I’ve asked Logan several times to put an elevator in, but he insists that taking the stairs is better.”

“How’d he get all the furniture up the stairs?” Virgil wondered aloud.

“He animated it all to take themselves upstairs, and the twins took everything that could talk for itself.”

The conversation petered out after that, and it wasn’t long before Virgil noticed Patton struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, shaking Patton gently. “How ‘bout we finish this tomorrow, huh? I think it’s time for bed.”

“‘M not tired, daddy,” Patton mumbled, rubbing his eyes in an extremely convincing manner.

“Well, I’m tired,” Janus declared slyly. “And I don’t want to miss the ending, would it be alright if I came back tomorrow so we could finish it?”

“Promise,” Patton demanded, sticking his pinky finger out.

“Cross my heart,” Janus swore, linking their fingers solemnly.

“Okay,” Patton agreed, releasing Janus’s finger and slumping back into Virgil. “Daddy, will you carry me? I’m tired.”

“Sure, kiddo,” Virgil said, wrapping his arms around his son and standing up from the couch.

Janus stood as well.

“Goodnight, Patton,” they said, kissing Patton’s forehead in a move they were beginning to grow used to. “Goodnight, V.”

They kissed him goodnight as they usually did, but instead of pulling away, they brought their foreheads together.

“My offer stands. Maybe when Remy gets more settled, you and Patton can move in with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Virgil promised. “Goodnight, Jan–”

An I love you almost slipped from his mouth, but he snapped his jaw shut before it could. Janus smiled like they already knew, then turned and left.

Virgil got Patton settled into bed pretty quickly, and the five-year-old was out before his head even hit the pillow. There were spare bed sheets in the hall closet, so Virgil laid them out over the couch for himself; Remy briefly came out of her room at this point to get herself a glass of water before bed, so she and Virgil exchanged their goodnights as well.

Still, Virgil was too keyed up from the almost-love confession to even attempt to get any kind of sleep yet, so he turned the TV to some mindless programming to try to get himself settled. The first channel he tried was playing some sort of divorce court, which Virgil thought might work, but which quickly proved to dredge up painful memories and anxious feelings, so he switched to a home renovation show instead.

He let his mind wander to Janus as the host of the show swung a sledgehammer at a kitchen cabinet. It was strange that just a few weeks ago he’d been hesitant to admit he and Janus were going on a date, and now he was almost letting the L-word slip out in casual conversation.

Virgil could imagine a life with Janus. Janus would have their law practice and occasionally commit crimes — something Virgil could condone as long as they weren’t hurting any civilians — and Virgil would raise Patton and… well, he wasn’t sure what he would want to do. He could become a vigilante, or maybe a doctor, neither of those really appealed to him, but he did have the necessary skill set to do either, even if he’d technically be cheating about being a doctor.

When he was in high school, he’d thought about becoming an astrophysicist, but that dream seemed so far away now. He didn’t even have a bachelor’s degree.

The TV was still playing a home renovation show, but the host had changed, and the house was different. Virgil could go to bed now, but, ever the masochist, he turned on the news instead.

A fateful choice.

The news was playing footage from earlier in the day, it was a CCTV video of a supervillain attack at the city’s mall with newscasters detailing how the supervillain — Whiplash, or something — had attacked the mall, and abducted two civilians.

Despite the poor video quality, Virgil would recognize his dads anywhere. The villain’s power beams first seized Nico, then, when his dad tried to help, grabbed Thomas as well.

No one else was taken, and nothing had been stolen. The villain had caused some damage, grabbed Virgil’s dads, and only Virgil’s dads, and fled when law enforcement arrived.

The newscasters continued to speak, and eventually moved on to a new story, but Virgil wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it was probably a trap — the odds that his dads, who didn’t even live locally, were the ones taken…

It had to be a trap, and whoever set it must know that Virgil knew it was a trap.

There wasn’t even a question as to what Virgil’s next move would be. He found a pen and some paper and wrote four letters. He folded up the letters and addressed them on the back.

First, he teleported into Remy’s bathroom and left the one addressed to her on the counter, then he teleported to Patton’s room. He didn’t leave the note addressed to Patton on the bedside table, but instead took in the sight of his son one last time.

The glasses that Logan had made for Patton were folded up on the bedside table, and Patton’s face was peaceful with sleep. He frowned slightly in his sleep, but Virgil forced himself to calm down, and soothed his hand over a small, clenched fist. Once Patton had settled once more, Virgil kissed his forehead, and left.

He teleported directly into Janus’s room without any assurance that his partner was asleep — maybe he’d been hoping to get caught. Janus was asleep and didn’t seem to register Virgil’s presence at all.

Virgil left the last three letters on Janus’s nightstand. The top one was addressed to Janus themself; the second one to Patton, to be delivered when Janus saw fit; and the third one was addressed to Thomas and Nico, should Janus ever find themself in the presence of Virgil’s dads. With one final look, Virgil left.

He had to cross the threshold of the building physically as Logan had a barrier set up around the entire building — which had been beneficial when Virgil had been power-sick and unable to control his teleporting — but once he was on the front stoop, all he had to do was pull at the — faint — connection to his dads, and go.

A trap? Almost definitely, but then, Virgil was well-versed in putting everyone else before himself.

~~~END~~~

:))))

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #anxciet #familial moxiety #superhero au #on death’s doorstep #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Roman: my brother decided to teach his two and a half year old (Virgil) that Daddy and Papa have names and there's nothing funnier than seeing a cranky toddler turn to one of his fathers and say "leave me alone, Janus"

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #demus #dukeceit #familial anxceitmus #paternal dukexiety #paternal anxceit #paternal anxceitmus #sanders sides incorrect quotes #sanders sides uncorrect quotes #toddler!virgil #toddler virgil

[randomslasher]

Chillin’ with the parents!

Moceit with paternal anxceit/moxiety is my jam now. Janus and Patton are mom and dad and Virgil is their angsty teen son. I don’t make the rules. 

#moceit #ts spoilers #paternal moxiety #paternal anxceit

[random-snippets]

Second Chance

Summary: Human AU Virgil has a conversation with his adoptive father after a getting into a fight at school. 

Characters/Pairings: Romantic Moceit, paternal Anxceit and Moxiety

Notes: This is an AU that popped fully-formed into my head and I have tons of background info about it if anyone’s curious. All the Moceit feels right now, amirite?

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, references to homophobic slurs, mentions of violence (schoolyard fight), mentions of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, self-deprecating thoughts, abandonment issues. Let me know if I missed anything I need to warn for! 

*

A soft knock on Virgil’s door made him flinch, but he sighed, reaching up and pulling his headphones off his head. Time to face the music. “Come in,” he mumbled. 

The door creaked open, and his dad’s fiance poked his head in. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Already said you could.” Virgil shifted and reached up to brush his hair out of his face, wincing when his fingers bumped his bruised right eye. 

“So you did.” Janus stepped into the bedroom and closed the door softly behind himself. Virgil swallowed, anxiety ratcheting up a little, and Janus paused, giving him a look that Virgil knew all too well. The one that said ‘I just read you like an open book.’ “Do you want me to leave it open?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Don’t care,” he said, but the thought of being locked in with Janus--with anyone--still frightened him. He just sort of hated that Janus knew that, and knew without having to ask. 

Janus raised his eyebrows, hand still lingering on the knob. “Second chance?” he offered. 

Virgil sighed and slumped. “Maybe a little bit open?” 

Janus nodded and opened the door about a foot. It was enough that Virgil could hear his dad (Patton? Should I be calling him Patton again? Or maybe--oh God please no--maybe Mr. Sanders?) in the kitchen, busy with dinner preparations. The sounds would have been comforting and familiar, if it hadn’t been for the notable absence of the usual string of singing, whistling, or talking to himself Patton usually engaged in. He swallowed again, wishing he could bury his face in his arms, but along with his eye, his lip was split and swollen, and while the nurse had claimed his nose to be unbroken, it still felt pretty awful. He’d stuffed two wads of toilet paper into his nostrils to stem the flow of blood, and he realized he hadn’t taken them out yet. He did so now, crumpling the blood-soaked tissue in his fist. 

“You here to yell at me?” he mumbled, as Janus moved to settle into Virgil’s desk chair across from the bed. 

“Do I look like I’m here to yell at you?” 

“I hate it when you do that.”

The corner of Janus’s mouth twitched up. “Do what?” 

“Answer a question with another question. I hate when you get all...shrink-y.” 

Janus’s smile grew fractionally. “All right, then. Let me ask a different question. Do you want me to yell at you?”

Virgil shrugged one shoulder. In truth, he kind of wished someone would. Yelling he was used to; yelling made sense. 

Instead, when Patton had picked him up from school after the principal had called him in, his dad had just asked him quietly if he was okay, and if he wanted to talk about it. When Virgil had nodded at the first question and shaken his head at the second, Patton had merely turned his attention to the road to finish the drive home in silence. But there’d been a flash of something in his eyes--something that Virgil was terrified had been disappointment--and when he’d fled to his room the moment they’d gotten home, Patton hadn’t tried to stop him. 

It was that, more than anything, that had him so terrified now. If he’d disappointed Patton...what would that mean? Would he change his mind about letting Virgil stay? Would he...un-adopt him? Surely you could do that, right? His mom had given him up and she’d actually given birth to him so surely if all you did was adopt someone, if all it was was paperwork, there were ways to undo it, right? And it wasn’t like it had been that long ago, either. Maybe there was like...a 90-day money back guarantee or something. Not completely satisfied with your screw-up of a kid? No problem! Bring him on back to Kids-R-Us, and we’ll be happy to find you a better one! Refunds and exchanges welcome anytime! 

Shit.

“Well, whether you want me to or not, no, I’m not here to yell at you,” Janus cut into his cycle of terrified thoughts, and when Virgil looked up, he found his...his brain always faltered here. What was Janus? His dad’s fiance? His stepdad? They’d said to just think of him as his dad too but was that right? He didn’t know Janus, not as well as Patton; he’d been busy working on his book and then away on the signing and lecture tour and sure they’d skyped a lot but Janus hadn’t had to deal with him, not like Patton had. Janus didn’t know him. Janus probably saw him as another screwed up kid he could write a case study about, not as a son. 

And now he was the kid who’d upset his fiance. 

“So if you don’t want to yell at me, what do you want, then?”  

“I want to know what happened.” 

Virgil lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I got in a fight.” 

“Over what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I very much doubt that.” Virgil looked up and saw Janus regarding him knowingly, in that way he did that drove Virgil crazy. If the X-men were real, this would be what it felt like to have Professor Xavier reading your mind. 

“It was just a stupid fight with some stupid kids from my stupid class,” Virgil said. “I don’t know what you want from me. I won’t do it again.” 

“Won’t you?” 

Virgil frowned. “What?” 

“Well,” Janus lifted one leg and crossed it over the other, folding his hands on his knees and tipping his head. The effect would’ve been sort of comical if things hadn’t felt so serious. “If the circumstances that caused this fight were to recur, or ones similar to it, wouldn’t your response be similar?” 

Virgil snorted, then winced when his bruised and battered nose protested the decision. “You sound like Logan.” 

Janus smiled. “There are worse people to sound like. Your uncle’s a smart guy.” 

“He’s not my uncle.”

“Isn’t he? He’s your dad’s brother.” 

“Patton’s not my dad.” Virgil meant to sound tough and confident. Instead it came out sort of choked and muffled. Maybe he’d made his nose clog up when he’d snorted a second ago.

“I have a piece of paper from the state department of health and human services that suggests otherwise.” Janus’s voice was light, but almost unbearably gentle, too, and Virgil scowled, hating that his eyes were beginning to sting. 

“So? It’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“I think Patton would be very sad to hear you say that,” Janus said softly, and when Virgil looked up, he saw an echo of that same sadness on his face.

“Why?” Virgil said thickly. He reached up and rubbed at the top of his lip gingerly, under his nose, which was beginning to trickle. “I just keep screwing up. Why would he want to keep me? Why would either of you?” 

Janus lifted the box of tissues from Virgil’s desk and handed them over wordlessly; Virgil took one and began to gingerly dab at his aching nose. Dammit. He hated crying, but it was so much worse after getting beaten up. 

“You didn’t screw up,” Janus said. “You got into a fight. Thirteen-year-old boys do that.” 

“Yeah, well, at least some of them win sometimes,” Virgil groused. “I just get my a--my butt kicked.” It figured: he couldn’t even get in trouble right. 

“Did you ever learn how?” 

“What?” Virgil looked up at his stepfather, too startled by the words to remember to be upset. “What do you mean?” 

Janus shrugged. “I mean, did anyone ever really teach you how to hold your own in a fight? Especially when you’re outnumbered against a group of opponents bigger than you are?” 

Virgil blinked. “I...I mean...no?” 

“Well, what did you do? When the fight started, I mean?” 

“I...” Virgil stared at him. “I dunno, I punched the guy?” 

“Which one?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“There was more than one boy, right?” 

“How did...how did you know that?” 

“Well, bullies tend to travel in packs. They’re cowardly like that. Did you go for the leader?” 

Virgil shrugged. “No, I...the one that was closest, I guess. He was smaller.” He’d still been huge next to Virgil, but at the time he’d seemed slightly less dangerous than the hulking monster of a seventh grader who’d seemed to be in charge.

Janus nodded. “Always go for the leader,” he said. “Like I said, bullies are cowards. If you take down the leader they usually scatter.” 

“I mean, I feel like he would’ve kicked my...my butt either way,” Virgil said. “The guy was fu--freaking huge.” 

“Heavy-set? Or tall?” 

“Both, I guess.”

“Heavyset isn’t always a bad thing,” Janus said. “Heavier boys are often slower than smaller ones. Tall is the problem. His reach is longer than yours.” Janus sat up and held his fists in a boxing stance, then extending his arm. It came just to Virgil’s chin. “Try to reach me with your arm.” Virgil did; his fist barely reached past Janus’s elbow. “See? I’ve got like two feet of reach on you; you’re never gonna get in a good hit if I’m on my guard. 

“So what do I do?” 

“Hit them with something unexpected. Your legs--that’s where you’ve got some reach. A bully coming in for a punch is going to put himself within kicking distance, and you can usually get in a good hit and incapacitate him pretty quick. Just gotta practice your front kick.”

“Wh--why...why are you teaching me to fight?” Virgil asked, abruptly aware of just how absurd this whole conversation felt. “Shouldn’t you tell me to run away and find a teacher?” 

“It’s foolish to assume that will always be an option,” Janus said, sitting back. “Maybe in a perfect world, but...” 

“I feel like in a perfect world bullies wouldn’t be trying to beat me up in the first place,” Virgil grumped.

Janus grinned, looking pleased, and it sent a thrilled, proud little shiver up Virgil’s spine. “Touche. So since we’ve established the world we’re in isn’t perfect, it’s important you know how to defend yourself, isn’t it?” 

“I mean...yeah, but...I dunno, I feel like grown ups are supposed to tell you to like...be the bigger person, turn the other cheek, some bullsh--some stupid...thing like that.” 

Janus glanced at the open doorway, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and regarding him seriously. “Virgil, let’s make a deal: as long as you promise not to do it in front of Patton, when you and I are talking, you can curse a few times.” 

Virgil perked up a bit. “How many times?” 

“Five times per conversation.” 

“Ten.” 

“Seven. Final offer.” 

“Deal.” Virgil giggled, as Janus extended his hand and shook his solemnly. “Okay,” he said. “So aren’t grownups supposed to tell you to be the better person or some...bullshit like that?” It felt very strange, saying that word in front of Janus--indulgent, like sneaking a cigarette out of an unwatched purse. 

“Maybe.” Janus shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve never been that great at being a responsible grownup. I leave that to your dad.” 

Virgil barely stopped himself from snorting again. “Dude. You’re literally a doctor.” 

“I have a PhD, yes.” 

“In child psychology.” 

“Exactly.” Janus arched one eyebrow conspiratorially. “I studied child behavior. Not grownup.” 

Virgil laughed in spite of himself. “Oh my God, you are suck a fucking dork.” Fucking was a little too intense, and it didn’t taste as good on his tongue as bullshit had; it was an overindulgence, like puking after trying to smoke that stolen cigarette. “Freaking dork,” he said softly, lowering his eyes and hoping Janus didn’t call him on his backpedaling. 

Janus merely shrugged. “No arguments there.” 

“How’d you learn how to fight, anyway?” Virgil decided to get the conversation back on track. “I mean, like...who taught you?” 

Janus regarded him for a second calmly. Then he said: “Well, I learned in the system. Some of the bigger boys in my foster house thought I should know how, considering, well.” He pointed at the side of his face and smirked. 

Virgil, however, had stopped smiling; the expression had fallen from his face the second the words had hit him. In the system. “You...you were in the foster system?” 

Janus nodded. “I was.” 

“Wh--when did--why didn’t you--?” 

“Why didn’t we tell you?” Janus finished, and Virgil nodded hard, hair flopping into his face. He brushed it away without thinking, then winced when his fingers again brushed the bruised flesh around his eye. 

“Did Patton give you an ice pack for that?” Janus asked, seeing his wince. 

“Yeah, but it melted.” 

“As ice does. Want to get another one? I think your eye is starting to swell a bit.”

“In a minute.” As soon as they went downstairs, Virgil was afraid this--whatever it was, this spell that had fallen between them--it would go away, and he had to know. He had to have answers. Because if Janus had been in the system... “Why were you in the system? How long? What happened to your parents?”

“Getting right to it, aren’t we?” 

“I...” Virgil cringed, realizing it was probably impolite to ask questions like that--or worse, that doing so may have opened old wounds. This was probably why they didn’t tell you, he chastised himself. They knew you’d be an asshole about it.

He flushed, ashamed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--” 

“No, no,” Janus said softly. “It’s okay. You deserve to know, and I’m...happy to share.” 

Virgil looked up at the slight hitch in Janus’s voice. “Second chance?” he offered quietly.

Janus smiled. “Okay,” he admitted, “I’m willing to share, which amounts to the same thing, and if it helps you feel like you really belong here with Patton and me, then I’m happy for that. What do you want to know?” 

Virgil hesitated. “How many questions do I get?” 

“Hmm.” Janus considered. “Let’s say five for tonight. Otherwise we might miss dinner.” 

Virgil smiled sheepishly. “Okay. Um. How long?”

“Thirteen years.” 

“Whoa.” Virgil’s eyes widened. Janus had been in the system longer than he had? “How old were you?”

“When I got in or when I got out?” 

“I guess...both?” 

“You sure about that? If I give you one, you can do the math and figure out the other on your own, and save yourself a question.” 

“Shit! Okay yeah, just...how old were you when you got put in?” 

“Five.” 

“Five.” Virgil frowned, then said, “You...got out at 18?” 

“I did.” Janus’s face, like his voice, was calm and quiet, but Virgil understood something about it--something he realized had always been there, but hidden, like fish swimming below the ice of a frozen lake. 

His heart sank as the real reason for that deep, long-buried sadness finally dawned on him. “You were never adopted,” he whispered. 

“No,” Janus agreed. “I wasn’t.” 

“You never got a family?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

Virgil frowned, before the meaning of Janus’s words sunk in, making him feel at once like he might laugh and cry. He swallowed, scooting back and resting against the headboard of his bed, wrapping his arms around his knees, as though he might be able to contain the strange emotion swelling inside him.

Janus watched him for a second, then said, “Mind if I join you up there? This chair wasn’t really made for adult butts.” 

Virgil smiled weakly at what he understood was Janus’s attempt to cheer him up, and nodded, watching as the man climbed up onto the bed and settled beside him. He didn’t try to hug Virgil, as Patton might have, but settled close enough that he would be easy to reach out and touch, if Virgil needed. Janus leaned his head back against the wall, and sighed. “Much better,” he declared. 

Virgil found himself studying him, as Janus sat quietly, apparently willing to wait for the next question as long as it took Virgil to ask it. His eyes trailed along the marks on the man’s face: spatters of dark red splotches across his cheekbone and jaw, and along one side of his nose. A port wine stain, Patton had told him it was called; just a harmless birthmark. Virgil had always been impressed by the way Janus had refused to cover it up with make-up. Impressed, and kind of glad; he always thought it looked kinda cool, like dragon scales or something.

Still, he doubted it made things any easier for him as a kid in the system. They didn’t usually give you bonus points for things that made you stand out.

“Is that why you didn’t get adopted?” he asked quietly, then winced, wondering if this time he had stepped over a line. 

Janus glanced at him, not having to ask what Virgil was referring to. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” 

“I guess not.” Virgil hesitated, then scooted a fraction of an inch closer, angling himself toward Janus ever so slightly. Janus wordlessly lifted an arm, and Virgil scooted underneath it immediately, some of the turmoil in his chest calming down as the arm settled around his shoulders. “What happened? To your birth family?” 

“My parents died in an accident.”

“Oh.” 

“I didn’t have any extended family to speak of, other than a grandfather who lived in an assisted care facility and couldn’t take care of me. So into the system I went.” 

Virgil nibbled at the uninjured side of his lip, leaning his head against Janus’s shoulder lightly. “Were you scared?” 

“Sure. Scared, mad, sad, all of it.” 

“What happened after you turned eighteen?” 

Janus glanced down at him and smiled slightly. “I went to college,” he said. “And I started studying. A lot.” 

“Is that how come you wanted to be a child psychologist?” 

“Pretty much, yeah. I knew there were lots of kids like me who were scared. I figured I could help them figure out how to survive. Teach them how to fight.” 

Virgil tipped his head back and looked at him dubiously. “They let shrinks do that?”

“There are lots of different kinds of fights, Virgil,” Janus said. “Not all of them involve fists and feet.” 

“Huh.” Virgil frowned, leaning his head against Janus’s shoulder again. “They called you guys the f-word,” he said after a moment of silence. 

“Hmm?” 

“The kids at school.” Virgil scowled, then stopped when the expression pulled at his swollen lip. “That’s why I got into the fight. They called you guys the f-word.” 

“I see.” Janus sounded...Virgil wasn’t sure. Upset? Maybe...but mad? He didn’t think so. At least, not at Virgil. “You know what that says about them, don’t you?”

“That they’re fucking assholes?” Virgil spat, scowling again in spite of the stinging in his lip. This time, he found, the word ‘fucking’ didn’t taste so bitter. 

“No. Well, yes, quite possibly, but usually? It means they’re being raised by assholes. Lots of kids that age just parrot what they grew up hearing.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Virgil said, drawing back and glaring at him. “I had plenty of asshole foster parents and I don’t go around saying shit like that.”

“Well, that’s because you’re smarter than most kids your age. You had to be.” The smile on his face was proud, and Virgil flushed, squirming a little under the intensity of the expression. Patton looked at him like that a lot, but he never really felt like he’d earned it. Tonight, though...he kind of felt like maybe he did. He kind of felt like Janus didn’t give out smiles like that to just anyone, or for just anything. 

It felt good. 

He slumped back against him, too overwhelmed by that expression to keep looking at it, and Janus let his arm loop back over his shoulders easily. They lapsed into silence for a little while, listening to the clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Virgil could smell something good, something that smelled hearty and made his mouth water a little, and knew that soon, maybe in just a few minutes, Patton would holler up the stairs at them to come and get it. 

Soon. But they had a few seconds left, he was pretty sure, and so he said, “Janus?” 

“Yeah?” 

He hesitated, not exactly sure what he wanted to ask. Finally, he said, “Do you ever...worry? That it’ll...I dunno. That it’ll all go away again?” 

Janus didn’t have to ask him what he meant. “Sometimes.” 

“Really?” Virgil was surprised. He’d expected Janus to be reassuring--to lie, maybe, but to pretend like nothing ever got to him now. 

“Sure. That surprises you?” 

“I mean...yeah, kinda?” Virgil shrugged. “I guess I thought you’d tell me it gets better. That you stop being so scared all the time.” 

“It does,” Janus said. “Just because I still get scared sometimes doesn’t mean it’s not better than it used to be.” 

“Oh.” 

“You know what used to scare me the most?” Janus said after a second, and Virgil looked at him curiously. Janus smiled. “Patton.” 

“Patton scared you?” Virgil couldn’t even begin to believe it. “How the hell could Patton scare you?” 

“Patton himself didn’t,” Janus said. “But you know him. When I first met him, I thought, ‘here’s this amazing guy who’s had this perfect life, with this perfect family that loves him, he’s probably a total asshole or a complete rich snob.’ I kind of wanted to hate him, because he had everything I’d ever wanted, right? Like what did he do to deserve it?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Then I spent more than five minutes with him and realized no, he’s actually a total sweetheart, and he cares about everyone so much, and when we started dating I kept thinking, ‘how can someone this good see anything of value in someone like me?” 

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat, hearing his own deepest fears echoed in Janus’s voice.

“I just kept thinking, ‘eventually he’s going to realize how much better he could be doing. He’s gonna find someone who doesn’t have a temper, who doesn’t have rejection and abandonment issues, who’s as nice as he is and who isn’t this complete and total nobody.’“ 

“Exactly,” Virgil breathed, staring at Janus with wide eyes. 

“Of course,” Janus continued, “eventually I realized a few things.” 

“What things?” 

“Well, first of all, I realized that while Patton is an extremely kind and wonderful man, he’s not perfect, and it was actually really unfair of me to put him up on a pedestal like that. He makes mistakes, he has a temper too--you’ve seen him on game night when he’s losing at Monopoly” --here Virgil broke into soft giggles and nodded, “--and he worries. A lot. He also tends to give the people who hurt him more chances than they deserve.” 

Virgil’s smile faded. “But...what if I’m one of those people?” he whispered. “If I keep hurting him, or disappointing him...” 

“No, Virgil.” Janus’s voice was firm. “You could never disappoint him. He worries about you, but that’s just because that’s what he does. But he’s never going to be disappointed.” He paused, and glanced at Virgil sidelong. “However,” he said lightly, “he would probably tell you that you don’t need to go picking fights at school to defend our honor.” 

Virgil grimaced. “Yeah, I know,” he said. Then: “What would you tell me?” 

“I’d tell you that there are lots of reasons to fight in this world, and lots of things worth fighting for, but I never want to see you hurt over something as petty as someone calling your dad and me a stupid name.” 

Virgil sighed, and leaned against Janus’s shoulder again. “Yeah, I know,” he said again. “I just got so mad. Like who are these assholes to judge you guys? You’re...” he faltered, feeling a little choked and more than a little embarrassed, but forced himself to finish: “You’re both so amazing, and you gave me an actual real family, and...and who cares if you’re gay, why should that even matter? You’re...” 

“Hey.” Janus reached out and gently brushed the few tears that had escaped away from Virgil’s cheeks, being careful of his bruises. “Thank you, kiddo. I mean that. But you know what? Next time that happens, you ignore them, or defend yourself if they physically attack you first--I’ll help teach you how--and then you come home and you and me, we can talk it out. Vent, whatever. That way you can deal with it, but you don’t have to take a beating. Right?” 

Virgil sighed, and nodded again, finally letting go of the last of his worry and anger. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I guess so.” 

“Good. Now. Are you hungry? It smells like Patton’s just about done down there, and I want to get more ice on that eye of yours anyway.” 

“Yeah.” Virgil realized with some surprise that he was hungry--his stomach had untied itself from the knots it’d been in since he’d gotten home, and the scents wafting from the kitchen had only gotten better in the last few minutes. 

“Great. C’mon.” 

Janus rose from the bed and held out a hand; Virgil took it and let him help him to his feet. “Is it just your face?” Janus asked. “No other injuries anywhere else?” 

“No. I mean yeah, just my face.” Virgil shrugged sheepishly. “The guy just hit me once. The rest is from when he knocked me down.” 

“Gotcha. That’s good, then. Let’s go.” 

“Wait...Janus?” 

Janus paused in the doorway of Virgil’s room and glanced back at him. Virgil shifted nervously, then smiled a little hesitantly. “Thanks.” 

Janus’s face broke into the first broad grin of the evening. “What I’m here for, bud,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go eat.” 

Virgil nodded, following his...his father...out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to the kitchen. Patton looked up when they arrived, having just set a pan of what looked and smelled like lasagna--Virgil’s favorite--onto the table. 

“Perfect timing!” he said cheerfully, moving to kiss Janus hello, then looking over at Virgil. “Hope you’re hungry. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Virgil said, hugging himself, still feeling a little uncertain. That flash of something on Patton’s face in the car still had him worried, and in spite of Janus’s words, he found himself wondering if his dad was disappointed. 

Patton tilted his head, apparently hearing the uncertainty in Virgil’s voice. He moved forward and laid a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder, while Janus busied himself making a new ice pack. 

“Second chance,” he murmured. “You okay, kiddo?” 

Virgil looked up at Patton, studying his face, and in it, he saw lots of things--worry, concern, a little bit of anxiety, sure--but no anger. And beneath it all, so obvious it almost hurt to look at: a deep, abiding love. 

Virgil relaxed at last, and gave Patton a genuine smile. “Yeah,” he said again, stronger this time, and when Patton beamed and opened his arms, Virgil stepped into the embrace gladly. “Yeah, I’m okay, Dad.” 

“Good,” Patton whispered, and Virgil felt a kiss dropped into his hair before Patton drew away and said, “All right, let’s get to it, then. This lasagna isn’t going to eat itself!” 

Virgil settled at the table, watching as his dad and J--and his father--updated each other on their day, laughing and joking lightly with one another. He held the ice pack Janus had given him to his cheek with one hand, and with the other, ate the lasagna Patton had made for him. 

And even though it pulled slightly painfully at his split lip, he couldn’t help but grin. 

* 

Thanks for reading! 

A little background info (and to clarify something, just in case it wasn’t clear enough in the text): the “Second chance” bit is a rule they have in their household. Janus is a child psychologist, and he specializes in lying as a defense mechanism created by abuse victims to placate their abusers. He theorizes that your first response to any question that causes a heightened emotional response is usually a lie, because your instinct to protect yourself kicks in and forces you to say what you think the asker wants to hear. In their household, they have a policy that if someone thinks the answer they got might not have been truthful, you can say “second chance” and answer again, with no repercussions about having lied.

They use this to ask each other “are you sure,” as well as to admit to having lied themselves (So sometimes one of them will answer or say something, then say “second chance” and amend their own statement. Like “Hey Dad, do you want to play this video game with me?” “Sure kiddo! Well...second chance, how scary is it? I don’t want to have nightmares.” ). 

#moceit #paternal moxiety #paternal anxceit #random snippets fics

[sandersidess]

On the Verge of a Fairytale Prologue

Summary:  Based on the movie, A Cinderella Story. Virgil lost his dad, lives with his stepmom and stepsisters and is trying to get into Princeton. His only friend is Patton, a loveable dork who is too innocent for this world. Logan manages the diner when his stepmom isn't there, and is like a second dad to Virgil. While Virgil lives hell, he meets an online boy by the user royalprince04 on a writing forum. He only signed up to vent out, but when he reads the stories royalprince04 puts out, it's like the fairytales he used to have read to him. He won't admit it, but he may have fallen for this boy. They understand each other, they both want to go to Princeton, and he is everything Virgil wants. Roman has the looks, social status, and seems to have his life set. While he did enjoy it, he is now miserable and wants to be happy his own way. Sadly, his father has everything planned out for him. He wants to be a writer, wants to publish one day. So he signs up for a writing forum and meets emoanx13, who has writing that sounds morbid, but it attracts Roman. He talks to this boy, and he has fallen hard. He finds out they both go to the same school, and wants to meet him. A guy can dream of meeting his prince, correct?

A/N: This is new writing, and I hope to write a chapter as consistent as possible. With this chapter, this is the only time I’ll write in First POV unless stated. I hope you enjoy, and this will also be on AO3. Also, thank you to @aspringattackedmyfoot for the title idea! 

Read on AO3

Characters: Deceit (who will be named Damian), Virgil, Logan, OC

tw: minor character death, cursing (there will be a lot through the chapters), mention of snakes/lizards/spiders, sympathetic deceit (since Deceit is Virgil’s dad)

                                             ____________________

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom with a castle, with princes and princesses…

Okay, now that is a lie. It wasn’t that long ago, and also, I lived in no castle. I lived in the Valley. and it was no picture-perfect kingdom. It was kind of crap, to be honest, but it was my crap Valley. I love my crap town, it is my home after all, but also, where I have an amazing life.

I lived a pretty normal life, grew up with the most amazing dad ever. He was my best friend, and I was his. We did almost everything together, and he treated me like a prince. He taught me everything, from how to play soccer, baseball, and basketball to even changing the oil of a car. He was my whole world. he was my hero. He was known by everybody in our small Valley, he was well liked. What wasn’t to like about him? He was charming, humble, and always lending a helping hand. I couldn’t ask for a better dad.

He even had his own diner, having a putting a silly name such as the Snake Diner. He had such an odd fascination with snakes, but I can’t blame him. Thanks to him, I started getting fascinated by spiders and lizards. Guess you could say we were a reptile and arachnid loving duo. The diner got a lot of patrons, no matter what time it was, it was always full. It was such an open space, everyone was welcomed with open arms. The diner is where my family also was at, and the best part, I got to see them every day.

I had everything in life. I was the happiest child in the whole Valley. That was, until my tenth birthday.

We were at the diner, celebrating my birthday as usual. My friends, my community, my family was there. It was a joyous occasion.

          “Happy birthday, Virgil. Make a wish, little prince.”

Logan only had that smile while I was around, and though he always seemed to have a mean face, he always treated me kindly. He was like an uncle, almost like another dad to me. Also, what did I have to wish for? Such a weird question at the time. As I said, I had everything I could ever have. However, I guess my dad thought I needed one more thing. A mother.

He met my stepmom that same day when she clumsily tripped and fell into his arms. Ever since that day, they started going out. He seemed to love her, and who was I to ruin that for him. Then, they got married. With the marriage, I got two new stepsisters, Brianna and Gabriella. While I did not like them, I tolerated them for my dad. He looked happy, and that is all I wanted for him. Nothing but happiness.

Unfortunately, we did not live in a fairytale.

The night I lost my father was like any night. He read me a fairytale while we laid in my bed, having a discussion like always.

          “Do fairytales come true?”

          “Well, no. However, dreams do come true.”

          “Do you have a dream?”

          “Yeah. My dream is you go to college and be what you want to be. Be it a doctor, vet, writer, engineer, anything.”

          “Where do princes go to college?”

          “They uh…uh….go to where any prince goes to. They go to Princeton.”

          “That is such a weird name, dad.”

          “It sure is, huh? But let me tell you something, fairytales aren’t just about finding a handsome prince or having one save you. They’re about fulfilling your dreams, yours, and standing up what for what you believe for. Making a change, and taking risks. It’s just like I always say; never let the fear of striking out keep-”

          “Keep you from playing the game. I know dad.”

          “And remember, little spider, this book of fairytales contains important things you’ll need in the future.”

With a last kiss on the forehead, that same night, an earthquake struck. He got me up and to a safe place, and went off to go help my stepmom and stepmom sisters.

          “Don’t go!”

          “I’ll be right back! Stay there, little spider!”

That night, I lost everything. Fairytales now became the ones I read in books. I was devastated, and I wish I could turn back time. Sadly, my dad hadn’t left a will, so my stepmom got everything. The house, the diner, and to her dismay, me. I moved up to the attic, and from then on decided.

I would go to Princeton. I would work hard to get accepted. It was my dad’s dream, and it became mine too.

Even if it meant having to live through hell. And let me tell you,

I lived through hell.

#tw character death #tw minor character death #tw earthquake #sympathetic deceit #tw cursing #tw snake mention #tw spider mention #a cinderella story au #on the verge of a fairytale #OTVOAF #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #ts deceit #ts virgil #anxceit #ts anxceit #paternal anxceit #original characters #sanders sides #fanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides writing #sanders sides fic #tsart #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts logan

[just-some-gt-trash]

Sort of prequel of that fic where Roman picks flowers for Janus and they're both borrowers

Linked here!

This is soooo baaaad, but I wanted to do something for this au and my mind went dry. So here is a very short and cute(? thingy for day 7 of @sanders-spring Roceit

Also feel free to leave any name suggestions for this au

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

Janus should be fine right? Virgil wasn't hurt and was back home with him, why didn't he feel fine? That stupid human got into his head… but why?! Why was Roman so special that Janus couldn't get him out of his mind?

Virgil shifted on his arms and Janus looked down at his son. He sighed, falling in love with a human was a big no. They should move out according to the rules… but they were safe in this house since the humans knew about them, and he couldn't take Virgil away from his only friend.

Why was this so hard?! Logan and Remus’ family wasn't the best to live with, Patton made everything messier but easier for them. He hadn't expected Roman to move in, all those plants really annoyed Logan, Janus chuckled at the thought. But the pots and leaves made great hiding spots.

If Janus really thought about it, Roman only changed their lives for the better. If Remus and Logan hadn't been arguing, Logan would have found Virgil instead of Patton… He shivered, sure Logan had changed his view on borrowers thanks to Roma, but who knew what things he was capable of.

His life really changed when he found Virgil all those years ago. Janus wasn't planning to keep him, but his life was so much better when he had someone by his side… Roman made him feel that same realization he had when he adopted Virgil.

Janus buried his face in his son’s hair. Falling in love with a human wasn't ideal, how would that even work? Roman would kiss his entire head instead of just his lips, he could easily carry him and Virgil around like nothing! Sure some giant cuddles would be nice… but that wasn't the point! Come on Janus you’re trying to talk yourself out of this!

Janus fell asleep eventually, lost in his thoughts. His dream was so wonderful and happy. Roman was a borrower living with them, and they watched Virgil grow together, just what he wanted. But it was just that, a dream… right?

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides gt #roceitspring2022 #sandersspring2022 #roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #paternal!anxceit #familiar!anxceit #familiar!logicality #familiar!intruality #side intrulogical #borrower!deceit #borrower!janus #borrower!virgil #gt #g/t

[impatentpending]

You Test My Nerves (it makes me stronger)

The facts followed: Virgil was unhappy around Janus.  Virgil was happy around Roman.  Janus liked Virgil being happy.  Therefore, Janus needed to help Virgil be around Roman. And, if Virgil was so eternally grateful for Janus helping him get his crush that he hugged Janus tight and called him dad again, well.  That was simply a fortunate side effect.

Charity commission for the wonderful @infawrit10!

Request: Janus coaching Virgil on how to confess his feelings to Roman, set in the ‘verse of Bother Me A Little Bit Longer. 

Romantic prinxiety, romantic moceit, and paternal anxceit

Read on AO3

Word count: 2.3k

tws: mild angst, swearing, and innuendo

_____________________________________

“So,” Janus purred, lounging in the doorway, blocking Virgil’s exit.  “Roman, hm?”

Virgil flushed hot – from anger or embarrassment Janus couldn’t tell.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Janus.”

Janus clucked his tongue, shaking his head.  “Such little respect for your poor, dear father.”

Virgil grit his teeth.  “You’re not my father.”

Janus made a show of tugging off his glove and inspecting his golden wedding ring.  “Oh, you’re right.  Clearly this is a fake and mine and Patton’s marriage certificate a clever forgery.”

“Shut it.”  Virgil shouldered past him, stomping off down the hallway.  “Just leave me alone!”  He called over his shoulder.

 “Virgil again?”  Patton asked with a sympathetic smile, later, when they were curled up on the loveseat in their room.

Janus huffed something that could’ve passed for a laugh.  “Am I that obvious?”

“You’ve been making a face all afternoon.”  Patton sighed, resting his head on the curve of his husband’s shoulder.  “He’ll come around.  He just needs time.”

“Right.”  A sour, bitter taste grew in the back of Janus’ throat.  “I’m sure you’re right.”

 It was almost sickeningly adorable, how Virgil looked at Roman.

He didn’t even seem aware he was doing it, glances darted at the other side turning into sustained gazing, a small smile curling his lips, only to transform into a scowl whenever the other side caught him looking.

“Enjoying the view, Chris What-a-Pratt?”  Roman ran a hand through his hair, winking.

“Just trying to figure you out, Princey,” Virgil deadpanned, coughing into his sleeve to hide the red creeping up his neck.  “I’m shocked you don’t topple over with a head that big.”

Cue Roman sputtering indignantly, flouncing across the room to sit next to Virgil, knees brushing, and going off on a tangent, lauding his superior features and perfect proportions, thank you, Mr. Drab-cy.  Cue Virgil snorting with laughter, doling out insults no one who could see the adoration in his eyes would ever believe held an ounce of venom.

Janus did his best to make himself scarce whenever Virgil and Roman started in on their odd half-courtship.  He, with his multiple divorces and marriages with Patton, wasn’t one to judge how others flirted.  Besides, seeing Virgil so light, so happy… it was just good.  It felt right in a way he hadn’t experienced since the last family breakfast he had with Virgil and Remus, so long ago.

He didn’t like the way Virgil’s smile would melt away as soon as he spotted Janus.

He just needed time, according to Patton.  He’d come around, according to Patton.  It would be fine, according to Patton.

Well, as much as he loved his on-again, off-again husband, he was the first to agree that Patton wasn’t always right.  

The facts followed: Virgil was unhappy around Janus.  Virgil was happy around Roman.  Janus liked Virgil being happy.  Therefore, Janus needed to help Virgil be around Roman.

And, if Virgil was so eternally grateful for Janus helping him get his crush that he hugged Janus tight and called him dad again, well.  That was simply a fortunate side effect.

“Ah, I fear our dearest Thomas calls, my dear scare-amour.”  Roman brushed himself off, rising to his feet, before shooting a wink at the other side.  “We’ll be continuing this later.”

For a moment, Virgil’s face was lit with a glowing smile, but he pushed it away, swallowing and burrowing back into his hoodie.  “Yeah.  Sure, that sounds… goo- whatever.”

“Oh.”  Roman blinked as he sunk out.  “Glad to hear I’m whatever.”

“Wait, no!”  Virgil blurted.  “I just meant–”

But Roman was already gone.

Virgil groaned, flopping back on the couch, pulling a pillow over his face, and producing a very muffled ‘fuck’.

“A wonderful showing,” Janus purred, slinking out of the shadows.  “When should I expect the wedding invitations to be sent out?”

Virgil shot up, scowling at the other side as he coiled up on the couch beside him.  “Janus.”

“Virgil,” Janus shot back.  “Dear, I thought I raised you better than that.”

“Sorry,” Virgil said dryly, “I think I missed the day you took me and Remus out for a wonderful picnic in the sunshine and laid out exactly what to do when a prince winks at you.”  He rolled his eyes, curling up against the couch arm, hugging a pillow to his chest.  “I know I’m a disaster.  Could you skip the villainous monologue and leave me to my suffering?”

“So dramatic,” Janus sighed.  “As the side most qualified, I merely wanted to help you out with your… royal issue, but if my generosity is to be so refuted…” 

He stood, and there was a terrifying moment of silence where he thought Virgil was going to let him go, but a scoff came from behind him.

“What makes you think you are qualified to help me out here?”

“I'm a professional simp, and I’ve convinced Patton to marry me over thirty times.”  Janus examined his gloves, casually turning, biting down his smile.  “But by all means, continue to pine for the rest of your miserable life, I’m sure that’ll get you just what you want.”

Virgil slowly uncurled himself, eyeing the other side warily.  “And what do you want?  Going to steal our firstborn?”

“Do we need to send you to Logan for a refresher on biology?”  Janus asked, dryly.  “There’s this thing called ‘the goodness of my heart’ I’ve been meaning to try out.”

Virgil scoffed, making to stand up, and Janus cleared his throat, tacking on a: “Besides, Patton’s been badgering me to ‘make an effort’ with the three of you, or whatever, so…”  He shrugged.  “Ending the disgusting pining in here certainly beats sleeping on the couch for a week.”

Virgil stared at him for a long moment, jaw working, and Janus held himself very, very still.

“Fine.”  Virgil sighed, worrying his sleeves between his fingers.  “What do I need to do?”

 “Okay,” Virgil huffed, arranging the bouquet in his hands for perhaps the millionth time.  “Okay.”

“Say it a few more times, maybe it’ll be true,” Janus said, dryly.

Virgil shot him a disgruntled glare, and Janus sighed, plucking off the note on the bouquet.

“‘Roman’,” he read, “‘you’re alright’.  Wow, I’m sure he’s going to leap straight into your arms.”

“Give me that!’  Virgil snatched it back, scowling.  “Look, you gave me one good idea, or whatever.  Can you just go?”

“And leave my son to suffer?  What type of guardian would I be?” Janus fanned a hand over his chest, pushing down a pang at Virgil’s mutter of ‘not your son’.

“Here.”  Janus summoned pen and paper and pushed them into Virgil’s hands, pacing back and forth.  “Something to this effect: Dearest, Roman – don’t forget the comma – I thought you deserved something just as special as you.  Yours, emo nightmare.”

Virgil copied his words down, face flaming.  “It isn’t too… desperate?  I don’t want him thinking I’m some…”  He trailed off, embarrassment clogging his throat.

“Virgil.”  Janus stopped, gently taking his chin in a gloved hand and raising it.  “Roman isn’t going to think anything like that.  You’re perfect, Virgil.”

He smirked.  “Now go leave those flowers in front of his door and run like the coward you are.”

Virgil blinked, shaking his head as if to knock his thoughts into order.  “Right, um.”  He teetered in the doorway, fiddling with the bouquet.  “Thanks, I guess.”

Janus rolled his eyes and turned away to hide his smile.  “Don’t mention it.”

 “He liked them!”  Janus found himself ambushed by a very flustered emo when he went into the kitchen the next morning, Virgil grabbing onto his arm and pulling him to the table.  He was practically glowing, grin unabashed and eyes shining.

“What else would you expect from my fine tutelage?”  Janus smirked, turning to the coffee maker.  “Good job, though.  I’m proud of you.”

For a moment, the only sound was the bubble of brewing coffee.  Virgil’s brow was furrowed, mouth working uselessly.

“Anyway,” Janus continued, deciding to have mercy on him.  “How do you know?  What’d he say?”

“Oh, um.”  Virgil floundered for a very different reason and muttered something, too quick to hear.

Janus blinked.  “What was that?”

Virgil burrowed deeper into his hoodie, averting his eyes.  “He… um.”  A small smile crossed his red face.  “He kissed my cheek.”

Janus gasped.  “Virgil, you floozy!  How scandalous!”

Virgil snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m quite serious,” Janus drawled, smiling, “everyone knows the cheek is the doorway to the bedroom.”

“Ugh, gross.”  Virgil gagged, pulling a face.  “You’re not allowed to say that stuff.”

“Why ever not, dear?”  Janus flashed a fanged grin, pushing a mug of coffee into Virgil’s hands.

“Because,” he emphasized, taking it, “no one wants to hear their da–”

He cut himself off.

Silence.

“Their dad’s husband,” Virgil said, quietly.  “That’s what I was going to say.”

Janus could feel something like agony settling in the lines of his face.  He turned away, shuttered his expression closed.  “Of course.”

“Right.”  Virgil swallowed hard, fingers tightening around his mug.  “Right.”

“Guess I better check on your dear father, then,” Janus said, voice clipped as he filled Patton’s favorite mug.  “If all I am is his husband.”

He slithered from the room without another glance at Virgil.

Virgil sat there, alone, sipping at a coffee made just the way he liked, trying not to know where the sickness in his stomach came from.

 Virgil stood before the yellow and blue door, wavering.

“You’re being dumb,” he muttered, raising a hand to knock, before promptly spinning on his heel and walking off.

“No, you don’t need that slimy snake,” he muttered, before turning around.

“Oh, but he kinda knows what he’s doing.”  Virgil worried at his bottom lip, before finally sighing, marching up to the door and knocking before he could talk himself out of it.

“Janus,” he said before the door could even fully open, “I get if you’re upset or whatever, but I really need to know what to do with Roman– and you’re not Janus.”

“Perils of sharing a room,” Patton said, flashing a wry smile, “I tend to snake into his conversations.  Everything alright, kiddo?”

“Fine,” Virgil said, shortly.  “Just looking for Janus.”

“If he’s sulking, he’ll be in the library.”  A flash of mischief shone in Patton’s eye.  “We’ve got a few fun memories shelf-ed there.”

“What do you–”  Virgil stopped, grimaced.  “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.  Thanks.”

He turned, but before he could stalk off, Patton spoke.

“He loves you, you know,” he said, gently.  “Just as much as I do.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, and the words felt like sandpaper in his throat.  “I know.”

 Janus was, in fact, in the library, curled up with a book he seemed to be staring at more than actually reading.

“There’s this great new invention,” Virgil said.  “It’s called reading comprehension – all the rage these days.”

Janus startled, but his expression settled into coolness as soon as he spotted the other side.

“Virgil,” he said, mildly.  “I was just hoping for another insult.  Got to fulfill the daily quota, you know.”

Virgil winced.  “Look, I didn’t mean it like that.  And I get if you hate me for not being who you remember, but I’m different now.  I can’t be who I was to you anymore.”

But Janus just looked at him with a tired sort of fondness, mouth twisted up into a smile that was only a little sad.

“Virgil,” he said, softly.  “I’m sorry.”

Virgil startled.  “What?”

“I’m sorry.”  He swallowed, hard.  “I must’ve done everything wrong for you to ever think I could do anything but love you, whoever you turn out to be.”

Virgil blinked at him, swallowing down the lump rising in his throat.

“I think,” he said, voice thick, “I have a few apologies to make.”

“We both have a few apologies to make,” Janus corrected, gently, then laughed.  “I guess I need to learn my lesson as well.”

 They worked it out.

 Not perfectly, of course.  Emotionally repressed idiots they were, of course it wasn’t perfect.  A strange sort of tension still settled in their shoulders when someone brought up the past; certain tones still put them both on edge; snide references to a shared memory could produce bouts of laughter or tense, taunt silence in equal measure, but it was better.

Time wore away the brittle edges of their words, until, at last, their sharpness was almost gone.

 Not gone, however, were Virgil’s terrible flirting strategies.

“No,” Janus said, when he tried telling Roman he didn’t hate it when Roman sang.

“No,” Janus said, when Virgil tried ignoring Roman to ‘play it cool’.

“Maybe,” he said, when Virgil punched Roman’s shoulder and said ‘you fight good’.

“Okay,” Janus sighed, sitting on Virgil’s bed.  “I think we should probably just go for it.”

“What?!”  Virgil sat up, spine ramrod straight, eyes wide.  “No! It’s way too soon for that!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Janus drawled.  “Knowing someone thirty one years, flirting with them for five, and asking them out after they flirt back, accept your gifts with gusto, and kiss your cheek?  Too much.  Shame on me.”

“You’re the worst,” Virgil hissed, hands pressed to his face.

“I try,” Janus said, smugly.  “But hear me out here – you could always say something at mine and Patton’s next wedding.  You know how emotional those things tend to make him.”

“That’s…”  Virgil took a deep breath, fiddling with the ends of his hoodie strings.  “That’s a pretty good idea, actually.”

Janus stood up, slithering towards the door.  “In that case, I better ask Patton for another divorce.”

Virgil snorted, flopping back on his bed with a grin. “What’s your excuse this time?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”  Janus flashed a fanged smile, edged with that tenderness reserved for his occasional husband.  “He has been bothering me lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”  Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling.  “Later, dad.”

Janus stood stock-still, dumbfounded.

After a moment, Virgil looked up and blinked at him, oblivious.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Janus said, and turned to hide his smile.  “Nothing at all.”

_____________________________________

@super-writer-gal @cashmeredragon  @paperghastly  @crystrifoglio @purplepatton @notveryglittery  @why-things-go-boom  @noneed4thistbh @raiseafuckingglass  @moonstone-fox @rosegoldsocks  @lesbianlightplayer    @wizened-beanie-baby  @theultimatemomfriend  @kanejandkruge @tigertigertigger @izzynuggets @punsterterry @therealpeterpan-blog  @wisepuma23  @mirror2thespirit  @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2  @i-really-dig-the-purple  @rosesandstuff  @muliphandomer  @sign-from-god-complex @overweightdepressedpanda @fandomsofrandom @maraudersforlife5922 @flix-net

@tanyatoloni1334  @crazyfangirls-stuff  @prymyglitterfrommycolddeadhands @purple-halez @alwaysalilhigh  @imtoobiforyou @moxiety-my-love @that-one-garbage-nerd  @nonbeenary-enbee @hellomusicalnerdhere  @whizzie72

@airiervessel  @fearthesmolpotato  @incorrect-obsession-quotes  @prismartist  @secretlyawyvern  @xpouii  @nonasficcollection  @artist-of-insanity  @dahseat @ollyollyoxinfree  @thgjclw  @idosanderssidespromptssometimes  @mettalicat  @silverquill05  @pokii-jonas  @actlikeiknow @ultimately-aerin  @fiddler-unroofed  @gayformlessblob @danerdbird  @angels-and-dreams  @notyourperfectmexicandaughter @smacksmicktactic  @breadrolls-and-jam  @sleepy-sphinx @snixxxsmythe  @theoneandonlydork @caffeinated-cryptid  @bluebear04  @feelslikechet  @logicalberry  @fahm-ily  @hermitcreature  @yellowbbwitch  @sashootkahoot  @nandysparadox 

@wowimsogoddamnoriginal  @confusedhost  @17geeseinatrenchcoat  @raelyn-eve  @rosy-cheeked-girl   @icequeenoriginal @pheonix-ts-aus @fabulouswritingfanboyofdeath  @pheonix-ts-aus @enragedbees   @blacksky-8

#prinxiety #moceit #platonic anxceit #dadceit #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #you test my nerves (it makes me stronger) #charity commissions #paper trail #sanders sides fic

[hippityhoppitygetofmyproperty]

Anniversary Picnics

Characters: Patton, Janus, Virgil, Roman

Ships: Romantic Moceit, Paternal Moxiety and Anxceit, Background Prinxiety

Trigger Warnings: None (Let me know if I need to add any!)

Genre: Tooth-rotting Fluff

Word count: 757

Universe: Human AU

This was an idea I had for a bit (and actually started writing a few days after POF but stopped halfway through for quite a while) because i’m a sucker for Moceit and wanted to try writing it!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy what this turned out to be!

Ao3 link

——————————

“Patton, are you almost ready to go?” Patton heard Janus call from downstairs.

Janus has been planning their anniversary dinner for around a month and had not told Patton any of it. He just assumed he’d be told what they were doing a week before but all he’d been told was to dress nice but not fancy.

Patton looked in the mirror, trying to see if he got all his unruly curls at least somewhat under control. “Yup!”

He was practically skipping out the bedroom door and down the stairs, his dress swishing around his knees. When Janus caught sight of his adorable husband, his face broke into an adoring grin and gave Patton a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Virgil, are you sure you’re going to be fine while we’re gone?” Patton asked as he walked over to the purple and black blob that was currently occupying the couch.

Virgil just rolled his eyes at his dad worrying. “Yes. Like I said, Roman’s coming over to keep me company- and before you ask, Remus is grounded and is not allowed to leave his house.” Cutting off Patton before he had the chance to ask.

“Perfect. I don’t need to come home to find the house has burned down because Remus tried to charge his phone in the microwave.” Janus said from the doorway while putting on his boots and grabbed the car keys. “Ready to go, Pat?”

“Yes! Let’s get going!” He turned back to the blob and gave it a quick kiss. “We‘ll see you, kiddo! Enjoy your time with Roman!”

——

The car ride to wherever they were going to was filled with banter and Patton’s giggles. He didn’t notice they were at their destination until Janus put the car into park and exited to get stuff from the truck. He looked out the window to see they parked near a lake, but not just any lake. It was the lake where they had their first date, the lake where they both proposed (Janus took the opportunity to do it first, then it was revealed Patton had planned to propose that night as well), and where they brought Virgil for their first family picnic together.

How had they not had an anniversary dinner here before?

When Patton stepped out of the car, he saw Janus come around from the back with a blanket and a basket in hand… and is reminded that he is /very gay/ as the moonlight shined off of Janus’ eyes just right.

Janus smirked at his husband’s red face while Patton’s brain started to function again. He started to reach for the blanket Janus was currently holding. “Here, let me carry something.”

“There’s no need. You have to pick the spot where we eat.”

“Fine. But you’re going to let me carry stuff back.” Patton said as he started walking towards the edge of the water.

——

The picnic was amazing. Janus has packed their favorite kinds of foods and had bought some wine to go with. After it was eaten, they sat on the blanket and looked at the glimmering stars.

Their silence was broken when Patton asked, “Do you wanna take a walk in the shallows?”

“Anything you want.”

They walked around in the water in a comfortable silence… until Janus thought it would be funny to splash Patton from behind. Though he knew he was dead when Patton slowly turned around, looked him dead in the eye with a competitive look and shouted,

“Oh it is on like Donkey Kong!“

Once they were done, they both fell back on the blanket laughing and soaked to the bone. After they got their laughter under control (which took quite a bit), Patton turned to his amazing husband and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you, dear. This night has been absolutely wonderful. I love you so much!” Punctuating his statement with a soft kiss.

They packed up their stuff back into the truck and headed home once the chill air started to make them uncomfortable. Patton almost fell asleep with the soft rumble of their vehicle, but before he could, they pulled into the driveway.

Upon entering the house, the first thing they noticed was Virgil and Roman curled up together while the credits of Beauty and the Beast played on the screen.

Patton gave Janus a knowing look and walked over to put a blanket over the two, turn off the tv, and grab a couple of cookies from the jar for him and his husband.

What an amazing night. ——————————

@jessibbb (I asked if you would’ve liked to be tagged in a Moceit fic I was writing, so here it is!)

#sanders sides #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #writing #anniversary picnics #fluff #human au

[hoardofhyperfixations]

A good alternative for "brotherly remrom" is "creativitwins"

I know. I used brotherly r*mr*m because it was how I tagged my non-ship interactions. "Platonic logince" "paternal analogical" "brotherly anxceit"

#ask #tw remrom #remrom mention #anti remrom

[ailithnight]

A fanfic heavily influenced by the world and heacannons on @anxceit-and-others, run by the lovely @chemically-imbalanced-romance. That is all.

Title: It’s Not Anxiety Word Count: 3800 (On the dot.) CW: Abuse, Past Abuse, Panic Attacks, Hypothermia, Unhealthy Thinking? (Not sure how else to word that one.) Deceit Tagslist: @moose-squirrel05, @didsomeonesayprince, @readeatfightlove13

Virgil struggles to stay upright while his body trembled. Cold. Tired. Hungry. Sore. Virgil felt like at any moment he might collapse under the weight of his own body. Words were spoken around him that he was only half aware of. His vision blurred and it felt like the whole world tilted. By sheer will power alone. Virgil managed not to tilt with it. He didn’t want to faint in the commons. Virgil had only been with the Light Sides for a few days now. And while it’s true, in that time they hadn’t done anything bad to him, in fact, they had done nothing but try to help, Virgil still didn’t trust them. No. Trust wasn’t the right word. Virgil doesn’t think he’ll ever trust anyone. He doesn’t know what to expect from them. Virgil misses Deceit. Deceit was familiar. A single static in Virgil’s otherwise tumultuous existence. Virgil knew what to expect from Deceit and he knew how to deal with it. But here, in the house of the Light Sides, where Anxiety most certainly did not belong, Virgil felt like he was flying blind. Deceit had been scary in his own right, but this was a level of terror Virgil hadn’t felt in years. So, he fought, desperately clinging to consciousness while everything else inside him just wanted to shut down.

“Anxiety?” Virgil lifted his head to meet the gaze of the four others standing around him. Huh. What was Thomas doing in the mindscape? “Are you alright, Kiddo?” Virgil managed to focus his eyes on the paternal character for a brief moment before dropping his eyes back down. He hummed vaguely, the only kind of sound he could manage to produce in that moment. “You don’t have to be afraid you know.” Virgil almost wanted to laugh at that statement.

“I’m Anxiety. I’m always afraid. It’s kind of my whole purpose.” The words came out dry and breathy. Virgil felt winded just pushing out those three sentences. His vision blurred again but at this point, he just couldn’t bring himself to refocus his eyes.

“Well,” Logan began, “if there is anything we can do to alleviate some of your anxiousness, all you have to do is ask.” Virgil hummed again. He briefly considered telling the truth. That general anxieties weren’t the real problem right now. The problem was that Virgil felt like he had been awake for the better part of two weeks, starved for nine days, slammed into a few walls, thrown through a closed window, and locked outside in the cold for four days. Of course, that wasn’t exactly far from the truth. A few omissions. Virgil’s body had reached its limit. Surely, any moment now he was just going to drop dead on their carpet. Hopefully, he wouldn’t bleed. It was bad enough to leave the Light Sides with the problem of his corpse. He didn’t need to leave a stain too.

Still, it sounded nice, tempting even, to just fall asleep now and not plan on waking up. How much does Thomas need Anxiety anyway? He probably didn’t. Without Virgil around, Roman could go off and chase any dream he wanted. He could stop being mad at Anxiety for getting in the way. Patton would have less weighing him down and making him afraid. He could let Thomas relax and enjoy the things he loves. Logan would probably be ecstatic, not having to constantly combat Anxiety’s skewed reasoning. His job would be so much easier. All Virgil had to do was drop off. He could fall asleep right here on the stairs. He might bash his head though. That wouldn’t do. Blood. Stains. Burdens. Maybe if he came off the stairs first. Stood on level ground, away from walls and tables. The front hall might work. It would put his body closer to the door anyway. Virgil tried to shuffle his feet forward, but they felt full of lead. He put his awareness back into the real world, trying to focus on his feet, but his attention was immediately stolen by a flurry of sounds. His vision, now refocused, was still practically vibrating with Virgil’s own uncontrolled shaking.

“Shit, Logan.”

“Language, Roman.” Roman ignored Patton.

“What’s wrong with him? Is it some kind of attack?”

“This is unlike any panic or anxiety attack I have ever researched.”

“Mmmmm fine.” Virgil slurred, his tongue and mouth failing him. “Juss go outside.” Outside. An even better place to die than inside. Maybe he could get himself in a trash can. Or far enough away that they could just light a match. Maybe he could get back home, across the street. Then he’d be a problem for the Dark Sides instead. Hell, Deceit would probably take pleasure in it.

“Anxiety!” Roman sounded aghast. “Why could you possibly want to go outside? Last I checked, it was storming!” Virgil liked storms. They could be unpredictable and violent, but they were good. Storms brought rain. Rain brought change and growth and refreshment. They washed away the old and unimportant, leaving more room for something better.

“Oh home now.” Virgil couldn’t feel his feet anymore. Or his hands. His torso. He felt like a disembodied head and even that felt too heavy to hold up anymore.

“Kiddo. You don’t need to go back. This can be your home now. Remember?” Patton sounded sad. So, so sad. Virgil was making him sad. Unacceptable. Virgil’s vision was darkening around the edges. He wasn’t even going to make it off the stairs, much less out the door or across the street. Oh well. He guessed here was as good a place as any other. Virgil stopped clinging to consciousness and pushed all his remaining energy to his voice and mouth, trying to make his last word as clear as possible.

“Sorry.” Virgil was swallowed by darkness. His last distant thought was someone screaming. Then nothing. No sound. No sight. No feeling of cold, tired, hungry, sore. No worries. Virgil let out a heavy sigh, finally met with peace and comfort and relief at last.

Roman ran a hand through his hair, once more glancing out the window to the storm raging outside. It had been raining for three days straight now. Coincidentally, that was when Roman had brought Anxiety over to their house. Before that, it had been freezing cold outside. Roman considered it a stroke of luck that the rain hadn’t broken until the temperatures raised above freezing, or else this storm may have been a blizzard. Roman glanced over at the side sleeping on the sofa while Roman watched over him. So many coincidences and strokes of good luck. If the storm had broken sooner. If the temperatures had stayed cool. If Roman had been 2 seconds earlier or 2 seconds later. He wouldn’t have found him and Anxiety would be dead.

Roman had just been taking the trash out. That was all. It had been too cold the last few days to go questing in the subconscious. Roman and Patton and Logan had all been huddled inside, staying warm with baking and board games and movies and good company. Their inside activities had accumulated a bit of waste and Patton had requested someone take the trash out. And Roman, ever the valiant knight, he volunteered to brave the forces of nature in the name of cleanliness. He had just deposited the bag in the bin, which would magically evaporate the waste once the lid closed, and he was walking back around the front of the house to go inside. He was on the front porch when the faint sound caught in his ears. The tiny sneeze was carried over by a fierce gust of wind that tore straight through Roman’s warm clothes and heavy coat. He paused, foot in mid-air, pondering the sound. Patton and Logan were both inside. Roman could even see their silhouettes through the curtains on the window. Neither one of them could have made that noise and been heard. Which left only…

Roman turned slowly around to face the house on the opposite side of the street. It was a sickly-looking shade of blue-grey compared to the homey, pale yellow of their home. The windows were all darkened and the building looked to be in all sorts of states of disrepair. Roman couldn’t fathom why they chose to live like that when all it took was a flick of the wrist to bring the dwelling back to life. Once, he had even done it for them. Within two days, it was back to its original, run-down appearance. Roman had forced himself to shrug it off, accepting that the house’s occupants were all creeps who enjoyed living in a house that was falling apart, like the bunch of degenerative monsters they were. But the house itself wasn’t Roman’s primary focus right now. It was rare for one of the Dark Sides to go out unless they were doing so to cause trouble. If one of them was up to something, Roman intended to find out what. Perhaps they were even the cause of the sudden cold that had gripped Thomas’s psyche.

Roman stepped back off the porch and stalked silently towards the house. He stopped at the edge of the yard, scanning and listening for several moments. But, nothing could be seen or heard other than the occasional gust of wind whooshing down the street. Still, Roman waited. A minute passed. Then two. Three. The cold was sinking in to Roman, causing him to shiver. He was almost ready to give in and go home when he heard it. Another sneeze, soft and delicate, followed by a sniffle and a grumble. Roman squinted his eyes at the holly shrubs. He summoned his sword and creeped forward, ready to fend off whatever vermin was hiding out in there. Roman held his weapon at the ready and inched forward until he could peer over the prickly vegetation to the small space between the bush and the corner of the concrete steps and the house’s foundation. What he saw made him freeze on the spot.

Anxiety was huddled there, back pressed against the steps, facing perpendicular to Roman. His hood was up, his eyes closed, and his head tilted back. His mouth was open, releasing small puffs of condensation with each labored, shuddering breath through his cracked, blue lips. Most of the rest of his face was pale, save for his nose and ear tips which were a vibrant shade of red. The smudged eyeshadow Anxiety liked to apply had been wiped away, revealing deep purple shadows under his eyes. Every few seconds, a light shiver would pass through his body, but would quickly fade away. Roman could see the sheen of the viscous, almost frozen snot framing his mouth like a disgusting mustache. In any other situation, Roman would have been absolutely sickened by it. But, as it stood, he found himself sickened for a whole other set of reasons. Anxiety looked to have mild to moderate hypothermia. Given the natural resilience and rapid healing that comes of being a Side, Roman knew that meant he must have been out here for anywhere between hours and days. And while Creativity may not be fond of Anxiety, no knight worth his salt would ever leave another person to suffer or possibly even die. Certainly not like this.

“Anxiety?” The side in question’s eyes shot open. Suddenly, he was on his feet, though the movement was stiff and clumsy. Had Roman not pulled his sword back, Anxiety very likely would have hit himself on it. His eyes, looking dull and lifeless, roamed around wildly for a moment before landing on Roman. Or, more specifically, Roman’s sword. Roman took note of the immediate fear that overtook the Dark Side’s expression. Pure terror and, maybe, Roman thought, just a tiny but of hunger. Something about the intense gaze Anxiety was giving the sharp blade was hungry and unsettling. But Roman blinked and Anxiety had brought his gaze up to Roman’s face and the hunger was gone, replaced by only fear, and it was easy for Roman to believe he had imagined it.

“R-r-roman! W-wh-hat are you doing here?” Anxiety’s speech was thick and slurred. He attempted to swallow, but judging by the harsh grimace, Roman guessed he was unsuccessful in producing enough saliva.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Roman said pointedly. Anxiety forced a perplexed expression.

“I live here?” Roman was not deceived by the feigned innocence.

“Outside? Behind the bushes?” Roman kept his tone unaccusatory, but serious.

“Sure. Why not. S’a great place to shelter.” Anxiety squirmed under Roman’s skeptical gaze.

“Seriously, Anxiety, why are you out here?”

“Why are you?” Anxiety shot back petulantly. Roman sighed.

“I was taking the trash out when I heard you. I came over to find you huddled behind a bush looking like you haven’t seen a scrap of warmth in a week. Now where’s your explanation.” Anxiety didn’t say anything for a long moment. Roman began to get frustrated and was tempted to walk away. But he couldn’t do that! What kind of hero would that make him? Instead, he fixed his jaw, held his head high and determined, and he waited. Eventually, Anxiety mumbled out a response.

“I got locked out.” Roman blinked, honestly surprised by the genuine answer.

“Is no one awake to let you in?” Anxiety returned to that stubborn silence. Roman looked him over, taking in the filthy state of his ripped jeans and torn jacket and his fingers, a color and shade similar to that of the house behind him. His clothes had deep wrinkles in them, his posture seemed permanently hunched. A sudden gust of whipped Anxiety’s jacket tight around him and Roman could glimpse just how thin his frame was, far thinner than it should be for someone whose body is derived from the stockier form of Thomas. The wind seemed to blow Anxiety over and Roman watched in a state of horrified shock as the other tumbled over into the holly bush, too uncoordinated to even catch himself on his hands. He grunted roughly and, with some struggling, managed to push himself out of the bush, back into the corner where he curled into a tiny ball, tiny red scratches becoming apparent across his face and hands. The more Roman looked him over, the less Roman believed Anxiety had only been out here a few hours.

“Does no one want to let you in?” Silence. “Anxiety, how long have you been out here?”

“Oh, why do you care?” Anxiety hissed, leading Roman to pull back, shocked. “Just go back home Princey. Leave me in peace to -” Anxiety suddenly clamped his mouth shut. He glared angrily and threateningly up at the royal character. Or, he tried to at least. To Roman, he looked more like a disgruntled kitten than a viable threat. Roman tried to pretend he didn’t hear the start of the word die before Anxiety clammed up. Roman checked his phone. He had been out here for no less than 8 minutes. He glanced back at the Light Side’s house. Patton and Logan would surely notice his absence soon. He looked back at Anxiety, who must have been out here for days now, perhaps even since the cold set in four days ago. Anxiety, who had developed hypothermia and was slowly freezing to death. Anxiety, whose own fellow Dark Sides didn’t care enough to left him inside. Perhaps they didn’t even notice his absence. Perhaps they locked him out on purpose. Roman didn’t know. But he did know that if he walked away from him now. Anxiety did not stand a good chance of surviving. And while the Creative trait didn’t often agree with Anxiety’s impact on Thomas, he certainly was not conceited enough to truly believe Anxiety deserved to die. Certainly not like this. He was as much a part of Thomas as any of them. He couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Anxiety here to suffer any longer at the careless hands of his compatriots. A plan formulated in Roman’s head. He dispelled his sword and nodded.

“Okay, Anxiety. I’m going home.” Anxiety slumped and nodded before letting his eyes slide close and his head lean back to the position Roman had first seen it in.

“Good. That’s where you belong.” Roman hummed in agreement. He shuffled his feet for a moment, trying to figure the best way to go about what he needed to do. But when one of Anxiety’s eyes cracked open to glance at him, Roman knew he was out of time. Without hesitation, he bent over the bush and scooped up the frail side with as much gentleness as he could manage. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” The shriek tore its way out of Anxiety’s throat, scratching and cracking and sounding all together unpleasant for speaker and listener alike.

“I said I was going home. I didn’t say I was leaving you behind.”

“You don’t have to do this you know. I’d be fine.” His voice was hoarse now.

“You’d die.” Silence. Anxiety didn’t even try to deny it. That worried Roman. Anxiety seemed perfectly okay with the prospect of dying and Roman feared that was indicative of a greater problem.

“Thought that would make you and everyone happy.” Yes, Roman decided. There was something deeply wrong with Anxiety. Something the Dark Sides must have had a role in causing. But that would have to be addressed later. Priority one right now was to get Anxiety home and warm. They reached the front door and Roman shifted Anxiety around, managing to support Anxiety in one arm for a moment while the other pushed open the door. Roman walked inside, noting how much worse for wear Anxiety looked in the warm inside lighting.

“Patton, Logan! We have a guest!” Roman called/sung lightly.

“What was that, Kidd- Oh my goodness! Anxiety!”

Getting Anxiety warmed up had been… a process. For most of it, Anxiety had seemed to be in a state of semi-consciousness. Logan said that that was to be expected given the severity of his hypothermia. Had they been real, physical beings, Anxiety would have been hospitalized. With the snap of a finger, Roman had transferred Anxiety into something warm and soft. It took a few hours, but they finally got Anxiety’s temperature back up and he became more responsive again. But that’s when the real trouble had started. Anxiety almost immediately ended up in a harsh panic attack which was mirrored by Thomas. No one believed that was a coincidence. Everything they had fed Anxiety ended up in the toilet bowl. Patton tried to comfort him, tried offering light touches and hugs. But contact made Anxiety scream and be sick again. He became a shaking, sobbing mess on the bathroom floor and none of them knew how to help him. Logan threw himself into research about anxiety and anxiety attacks. Patton took to the kitchen trying to find something they could get him to eat without it coming back up. Roman hovered around outside the bathroom until Anxiety passed out, then took him back to the sofa which had become his temporary bed and hovered protectively over him there.

Anxiety was out for a couple hours, but when he woke up again, it seemed he was already half way to another attack. Logan had come down then with all sorts of breathing exercises and grounding techniques and those seemed to help. But afterwards, Anxiety wouldn’t talk. Or couldn’t talk. Logan said that was possible. Patton came in with a light meal, some soup and crackers, and Anxiety looked at him seeming absolutely petrified. He started crying and shaking and curling in on himself. It took another hour to get him to eat just half the bowl, then he refused the rest. Worst of all, at first, none of them understood it. They couldn’t figure out where Anxiety’s anxiety was coming from. Or maybe, maybe they were blinding themselves to the signs. Maybe they didn’t want to believe the truth. After all, that’s where his power comes from. Roman sighed, running his hand through his hair again. He glanced to the kitchen where Logan and Patton were talking with a very dazed looking Thomas.

Thomas had summoned them, hoping for some answers as to why the sudden ramp up in anxiety. But Anxiety still wasn’t talking much. He had stood on the stairs trembling in what they had all perceived to be anxiousness. If only they had been paying more attention. Roman wished he could say they noticed when Roman had first brought Anxiety in. They didn’t. He wished he could say they realized it after the first panic attack. They didn’t. He wished he could say the saw the truth when the ‘attack’ started after Thomas summoned them. But they didn’t. They didn’t even think about the possible causes of Anxiety’s terror and illness and trembling. Not until he started swaying. Not until he started talking about going outside. Not until he collapsed on the staircase, his chest slamming into the stair edges with an audible crack.

Roman was ashamed to say that they were blind, he was blind, to Anxiety’s true suffering until they had to pull of his shirt to check his ribs. Then it all became painfully obvious. The fear and the trembling and the frailty. Anxiety’s story was bared before them as he was. All those years displayed before their eyes. The pain. The suffering. The fighting. The abuse. It all made sense now. And even though Anxiety was still there, resting peacefully for once, Roman couldn’t help but feel like they were still too late. Years too late. The others came back in. Patton and Logan both brought chairs. Thomas went to the sofa. He gently lifted Anxiety’s head and the pillow underneath it and slid into the spot, letting Anxiety’s head rest in his lap so he could card his fingers through his hair. No one questioned it. Thomas was Thomas. And this was his Anxiety. Thomas knew what he was doing. Even though they all wished they could do the same, only Thomas could get away with what he was doing. Roman ignored the pang of envy and instead, chose to voice his earlier thoughts.

“We should have noticed sooner.” Thomas looked up, meeting Roman’s eyes. His gaze then travelled to Patton, then Logan. He spoke with the certainty and authority that only Thomas could.

“We know now. And now we can help. That’s what’s important.” They sat in silence as the let everything sink in. Anxiety sighed contentedly as he rested. Across the street, Deceit scowled at the sudden turn of events. And somewhere outside, the storm finally passed.

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Deceit Sanders #TSDeceit #TS #Abuse #Past Abuse #Panic Attack #Anxiety Attack #Hypothermia #Unhealthy Thinking #Foul Language #Cussing #Here's my shit #Now roll with it #My Writing

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Janus: you're grounded!

Virgil laying face down on the ground: how can I be grounded if I'm already on the ground F A T H E R

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #dadceit #paternal anxceit #familial anxceit #sanders sides uncorrect quotes #sanders sides incorrect quotes

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Janus: so.. you're wearing eyeshadow and a hoodie?

Virgil: yes

Janus: my son used to wear that, so you must be him

Virgil: that makes sense to me

Janus: ...Virgilius?

Virgil: my name is Virgil

Janus: YOU CAN'T JUST CHANGE YOUR NAME YOU PIECE OF SHI-

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #familial anxceit #paternal anxceit #dadceit #tw caps #tw swearing #tw cursing #sanders sides uncorrect quotes #sanders sides incorrect quotes

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What if: Janus saw because of the videos how Patton treats Virgil like his kid, so in CLBG he disguised himself as Patton in an attempt to get closer to his child that he lost all those years ago, but Virgil sees through the act. Though, sadly, he doesn't realize Janus' true intentions.

It never occurred to him that Janus would just want to see his baby again.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #familial anxceit #dad!janus #paternal anxceit

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Dad!Janus holds baby!Virgil close to his chest. He drapes his cloak over the small boy's form, and places his bowler hat onto the small precious head of the child.

He chuckles and the baby gargles, small hands coming to play and inspect the new items of clothing.

Janus' mind drifts to how great this child is going to be when he grows up. He's going to be so strong, helping the other sides and Thomas.

Janus knows for a fact that he's raising a little hero.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #dad!janus #baby!virgil #baby virgil #dad janus #familial anxceit #paternal anxceit #fluff

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Sometimes I imagine like not in canon but like Janus either being the brother or father of Virgil and one night he puts Virgil to bed and goes to bed himself but the next morning Virgil is gone, kinda like in tangled when repunzel is stolen. But years later he runs into Virgil who seems to resent him, no clue why

Ouch I love that

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #Janus sanders #familial anxceit #brotherly anxceit #paternal anxceit #janus angst #virgil angst

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Angsty prompt:

Janus tells Virgil to not do something, because he doesn't want him to get hurt or something, but he (Virgil) just rolls his eyes and responds with "you're not my dad"

His dismissal of their past drives a figurative spear through Janus' heart

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #familial anxceit #paternal anxceit #dad!janus #virgil angst #janus angst