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sweetjekyll · 3 years

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Writerly contemplation tag!

tagged by the lovely @j-pping; thank you for the tag!

this might end up being long so I’ll add a read more cut ☺️

2020

what was the most challenging part of writing this year?

I guess the most challenging part of writing this year was tuning out the real world. I’ve always used reading and writing as a form of coping and escapism from all the things that were troubling me. Unfortunately there were times when simply reading and writing weren’t helping me and I took so many breaks, postponed so many WIPs I was excited about... I ended up beating myself down for not being able to keep up with an expectation I had for myself and my writing. Considering 2020 was hell for everyone, I came to terms with myself that it cannot be always my fault, I can’t blame myself for not being able to do things I set my mind to do, sometimes there are obstacles that take time for you to cross.

I’m just going to quickly mention stressful anons and hopefully get a point across for all fan fictions writers. WE ARE NOT ROBOTS. WE ARE HUMAN. All of us write for many personal reasons, mine are that I just love writing things which I wish to read! Simple as that. What I wish for some rude people to understand is that the least you could do for us creators is be thankful and be kind to us, give feedback and constructive criticism, share our work. I don’t understand why you are scared of the reblog button. When I go through my notes and take a look at some blogs, they are empty. No one is paying us to contribute creatively to the fandom, you are enjoying our content for free while we put hard work and our free time into it, so why should we “hurry up”, “update faster” and “write more/this/that”? Please, remember that we are people too, and the toxicity some people spread on anonymous asks is just incredibly baffling and hurtful to me. If you, as a reader, believe that my request is nonsense and my words are too harsh, then perhaps you should reconsider how you’re viewing content creators before disagreeing without a valid reason.

what was the most enjoyable/rewarding part of writing this year?

The happiness that came from writing something which I enjoyed reading as well! I have been a writer for years on another platform until I had to take a long hiatus because of writer’s block and depression. For how cheesy this may sound, the most enjoyable and rewarding part of writing is in fact writing something that makes me happy even if I’m torturing my characters and traumatizing them. There is truly no point for me to write things that I don’t feel I am enjoying. As I have said other times before on the blog, I would much rather post something that makes me happy, than post something just to get notes from silent readers.

what piece has left the most impact on you and why?

Given the fact that I have not written a lot because of my constant mental health breaks (yes 2020 had me on rollercoaster mental breakdowns more often than usual), I have to say that Damaged is what really kept me entertained with myself and perhaps sane. It has been way too long since I’ve taken on something so creative as building an entire universe from just a dream, but it’s what reminded me why I love writing so much, it reignited my passion. With this story I really wanted to challenge myself to write something unique, something I’ve never done before with any other work... And I admit it’s quite difficult; the easiest part was taking inspiration from EXO’s lore, but the hardest was incorporating it in a universe and storyline completely different to the original concept. It’s something I’m set on finishing as a complete multi-chapter story no matter how long it takes.

what have you learned about yourself through the process of writing in the past year?

To be completely honest, I learned that I can push myself out of my comfort zone when writing, because every piece is a fictional world of its own, every character can be more than a copy and paste personality. What do I truly learn about myself if I don’t explore things I have not thought about before? I learned that I should not be afraid to write of things that I don’t know or fully understand, specifically about things that I didn’t post but tried for just for fun. It is a good way of finding out whether a certain subjects interests me or doesn’t. I love doing lots of research and gather information for the stories I’m writing, you get to learn about stuff you usually would never think about.

how has your writing changed in the past year? how have you grown?

Well, I don’t really have anything to compare my writing to except my older fan fictions for movies and tv shows. I guess I have changed quite a lot since 2018; my writing style has become more fluid, at least I think it has. I’m also able to write longer chapters without feeling as if I am dragging it out for the sake of the word count, yet now I have to literally stop myself from just writing too much! It pleases me, to be honest. I remember struggling to sometimes put ideas into words and balance narrative, dialogue and descriptions.

2021

ignoring your wips for a second, if you had all the time and energy in the world to write your magnum opus piece, what would it be about? why is that the dream story you’d write, all other things controlled for?

This can go back to Damaged, honestly! It’s something that I haven’t finished writing and it will be a long story. It’s the fan fiction which has gotten me out of a 2-year-long writer’s block with such strength, I feel truly attached to it. As I mentioned in one of my first answers for 2020, this is the WIP I want to focus on the most and be proud of it.

how do you want to grow in your writing this year?

I mentioned this is my first 2021 post after I took a short break, but one of my resolutions for this year is to work on self acceptance when it comes to my projects. (I’ll copy and paste what I wrote there so I don’t repeat myself with other words) One of my resolutions for 2021 is to write more, to not be afraid of beginning something and even if I end up setting the story aside, at least I will have gotten it out on (digital) paper. I punish myself way too much when I’m not able to finish something, and that is truly one of the worst things a content creators can go through, in my opinion. I have many drafted works that may or may never be published and I wish to appreciate them more instead of dwelling on the fact of what they could have been.

what’s one thing you’d wish to see in the fan-writing community this year?

I wish for more love and recognition of the amazing and talented writers that share their content with everyone on tumblr. We are a community, or at least we are supposed to be. I would absolutely love to see more readers actively interacting with writers, share ideas, share art inspired by what you read! As readers, you can contribute as well by sharing moodboards, song recommendations and/or playlists! You are more than welcome to join us in the community as writers too!

As for myself, I have mentioned this towards last year but I still want to compile a list of all the writers I am currently following and read their works. I haven’t been in a good mindset to do that for a long time and I wish to get to know them. I’m a pretty shy person who struggles to start up a conversation, so I hope I get to make some friends on tumblr this year!

name one new thing you want to try doing in your writing this year.

I would like to make a list of aus and experiment with them for either one shots or some short series! I have so many creative ideas and thoughts but I always forget to take a note or maybe I’m doing something else and I end up getting caught up in a stream of consciousness, until I lose the initial spark. Also mentioned plenty of times, I would love to write for other groups, like nct, but for now I’ll focus on exo.

✨✨✨

anyway, that was it for my writerly contemplation tag!

I’m tagging a few fellow writers, but feel free to ignore for any reason! sorry if I forgot someone but feel free to do this even if I didn’t tag you!! @pororodks @velvetsehun @yeoldontknow @yeagerluvr @soos-goddess @shaalk @mooneylooney1 @dewbebe

#tag games #writerly contemplation #happy new year btw!!!

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dr-gloom · 6 years

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You’re Scared

Summary: Based off this AMAZING prompt from @britbrodcast!

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairings: Platonic LAMP? what’s it called when Dee’s in it??? Who knows

Words: 4,774

Tags/Warnings: Virgil is spoopy but also a dork so it balances out, Patton is Concerned(tm), I guess this could be considered Sympathetic Deceit?, Idk, But he isn’t a bad snek so, mild swearing, angst, panic attack

Read it on AO3

fic masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee or GoFundMe

((i listened to all of Folie A Deux on repeat while writing this cause that’s like my default Virgil playlist honestly))

It was no secret to Thomas and the other sides that Virgil didn’t exactly get around like them. It’d been proven that he was capable of sinking out, but he always just, as Logan put it, “appeared”. Roman was convinced it was because he was really a Dark Side, but Patton wasn’t having any of that. Virgil was his sweet and sour son and there wasn’t a dark or sinister bone in his body. So no one knew how Virgil did it, or even why, because it wasn’t really asked. Maybe they didn’t mind, or maybe they were scared of the answer. Maybe Virgil really was a Dark Side; if that were true, well, ignorance is bliss.

Patton was cooking lunch as he hummed along to some song on the small kitchen radio, chopping up some veggies when he turned to grab something and the knife slipped out of his hands and clattered to the floor, making him jump with a yelp. He held a hand to his heart, trying to calm himself as he glanced down at the knife now on the kitchen floor. A voice coming from above him startles him even more.

“Jeez Pat, be more careful. You could’ve seriously hurt yourself.” Patton looks around, confused when he doesn’t see anything. “Up here.” Patton looks up, eyes widening a bit as he spots Virgil on top of the fridge. How had he gotten up there? And how long had he been sitting there? “Oh, hey kiddo! You doin’ okay?” Patton remembered Virgil saying something about sitting in strange places on more... stressful days. Virgil shrugs, seeming to not have considered that. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” Patton makes a small ‘o’ expression and nods.

“Yep! No knife can hurt this cleaver dad!” He bends over and picks up the vegetable cleaver. Virgil rolls his eyes, swinging his legs to dangle over the side of the fridge. “That pun wasn’t cleaver.” He mutters. Patton giggles, just glad that Virgil is joking along with him. He knows the other is usually a little jumpy, cautious, reluctant to join the other five (the four other sides and Thomas, of course) in any kind of banter or fun-making. “Why don’t you come down from there and help your old man with lunch? Cheese?”

“That one was just bad.”

“So it wasn’t Gouda.” Patton smiles brightly as Virgil snrks and hops down from the fridge straight to the floor. Patton almost protests - that can’t be good on his knees! - but Virgil seems unaffected. “How long were you sitting up there anyways? You too cool to say hi to your old man?” Patton thinks he hears a mutter of same age before Virgil replies, “I’ve been there the whole time. I just didn’t want to bother you.” Virgil isn’t looking at Patton, but Patton just figures it’s because he’s shy and ‘doesn’t like to be a bother to anyone’. He could never bother Patton! Patton loves his dark strange son.

“Well gosh kiddo you know you can talk to me whenever! I love our talks.” He grins at the other as he gets a new, clean knife and Virgil moves the cut up veggies to the waiting pan. “I guess... You’re good, though?” Virgil glances over at Patton through his bangs, and Patton’s smile softens. “I’m okay. Thanks kiddo.”

Logan sits in his usual spot at the end of the couch, reading a book while the TV plays on in the background. Roman had started some sci-fi horror film, leaving part-way through when he was stricken with a sudden idea. Of course, this often happened, so Logan didn’t mind the background noise that was more like a quiet static underneath his focus. Judging by the music and increased screaming, Logan would venture a guess that the movie was nearing the climax. He turned the page, further tuning out the movie as he became immersed in the world of Mr. Heathcliff at Wuthering Heights.

He made it through nearly half of the book before his focus waned again, the sounds of someone - most likely Roman - coming down the hall caught his attention. His suspicions were proven correct when the princely figure plopped down on the opposite end of the couch and picked up the remote, seamlessly putting on another movie without a second’s thought. It goes through the ads, and the dreaded THX sound blares out of the speakers. Logan jumps, dropping his book, looking around. Roman looks just as startled, despite being the one who put the movie on, and mutters an apology. Virgil sits on the back of the couch (when did he get here???) and leans down, snatching the remote from Roman and quickly turning it down.

“Seriously Princey, you’re going to make us all deaf.”

Roman and Virgil launch into a fit of banter as Logan watches them silently, now feeling calmer and thinking to himself. How odd; he was certain Virgil was in his room just a moment ago. He obviously knew of Virgil’s penchant for Appearing(tm) places, but he almost always walks around like the rest of them when in the Mind Palace. So why Appear(tm) now? They weren’t in any imminent danger. Logan thought of asking, but with how cryptic and vague Virgil tended to be, he doubted he’d get a real answer. Virgil turns to look at Logan, eyebrow raised. “What?” Logan blinks. “Ah, it’s nothing. You just startled me with your appearance, that’s all.”

“Yeah, Edgar Allen Woe, quit popping up like that! It’s so rude.”

Virgil tenses slightly, and if Logan hadn’t been studying him so closely he knows he would have missed it. “Maybe the valiant prince should learn to keep his guard up if he wants to be good at protecting people.” Roman opens his mouth to quip back when Logan cuts him off. “Now Virgil, you know that’s absurd; you’re the protector of the five of us. Well, I suppose Deceit is as well to some degree, but your role presents in a more physical aspect.” Virgil blows a puff of air and shrugs, slinking off the couch and heading back to the hallway.

“Hold on, Wizard of Odd, watch a movie with us. You’ve been in your room all day.”

Virgil pauses and looks between the two sides before shrugging just slightly and sitting between Roman and Logan, with a comfortable distance between each. Roman and Logan share a look before they both move to sit so there’s only a few inches of space between each side, Roman grinning satisfactorily and grabbing the remote to put on Big Hero 6 - something all three of them enjoy. Logan isn’t one for physical contact, but he knows that Virgil can be when he’s in the right mood and yet will never ask for it, so he’s more than happy to nudge the boundaries of his comfort zone to help him out. As the movie starts though, Logan’s mind wanders over the information he’d gathered while observing the anxious side. Now to figure out what it all meant...

Dee rarely had the commons to himself. Since his appearance in Can Lying Be Good? the others have... sort of accepted him into the fold. They’re still a bit on edge around him, for obvious reasons, but he can tell they’re trying. And it’s appreciated, really, but it can be... tense, and exhausting. So he tends to stay away unless it’s famILY meal time, as Patton puts it, or if only one sides is in the room. He can deal with any of them on their own, but two or more of them and the atmosphere became too muddled. Too conflicted.

So Dee preferred these times on his own, knowing that Roman had taken Patton into his strange fantasy realm and that Logan was off somewhere, categorizing memories or... something. He can’t remember. He knew Virgil tended to keep to his room as well, and honestly he wouldn’t mind if the other came to join him either way, so he settled onto the couch and turned the TV on. After a while, he decided to settle on some children’s show Thomas ha been getting into, Duck Tales. Honestly (ha, honestly), Dee didn’t see the appeal, but since he was part of Thomas an this strange famILY, he figured he might as well try.

He thinks back to the day he revealed himself to Thomas, his mouth quirking to the side. That.... could have gone worse. But it could have gone better, too. He had been trying to help Thomas, that’s always his intention, but even he could see that there was a better way to do so. How was Thomas supposed to trust anything he said if he went around pretending to be someone else, both physically when he looked like Patton and characteristically when he acted the part of the bad guy.

But it had gone so well for Virgil.

“Half-truth.” Even Dee got caught in his lies sometimes; he had to remind himself of when he was actually lying, and what the truth meant. Sure, Virgil had essentially done the same as Dee, but the other had eventually started to act more like himself around the other sides and began building relationships. The others actually started trusting Virgil and liking him. But Dee? They didn’t know much about him, they had few interactions with him, so how could they possibly feel the same for him as they do about Virgil, who’s been around for years?

I need them to like me.

“Lie.” He didn’t need their approval to do his job, or even exist. His existence up to this point was proof of that.

I want them to like me.

“Why?” He was aware he was talking to himself in the middle of the living room, but he honestly didn’t care; it’s not like anyone could hear him.

Because I’m lonely.

Dee’s brow furrowed. “Truth...” And it was. It scared him, but it was true. He’d never admit out loud how he felt, but the feeling was as old and familiar to him as lying itself. Before, he hadn’t paid any mind to it; he’d contented himself on performing to his best, keeping Thomas’ relationships afloat and keeping everyone happy. He lived vicariously through Thomas’ interactions with his friends, found happiness and peace in their laughter and their smiles and their shared jokes. That’s why he fought so hard to keep it that way.

But now? Now he had something to draw his focus, something he could lose. As fragile as it was, he had some sort of relationship with the other sides now and he couldn’t mess it up. If he had to go back to Thomas’ subconscious, alone...

I’m scared.

“Hi scared, I’m Virgil.” Dee jumped, falling off the couch. He laid on his back in shock, staring up at Virgil who was hanging upside down from the spinning ceiling fan, legs spread as they were each hooked over separate wings. His hair dangled in the air, giving a rare sight of his whole face. Virgil sighed as the fan spun him until his back was facing Dee. “Of all the places...” He comes back around. “You okay, Dee?” Dee stares up at him, sitting up slowly and watching him spin around lazily.

“How did you-?”

Virgil smirks slightly, but it doesn’t look snarky or menacing. “I’m anxiety, I know fear. If you’re so scared of being alone, try being yourself.” Dee scoffs lightly. “It’s very easy.” Virgil frowns slightly, brushing a hand through his hair (which does nothing, he’s upside down). “Try taking them to your room.” Dee’s room was one of the very few places he could actually speak the truth without his words being twisted without his consent. He rubs his face with a sigh. “They’ll believe me. I never lie.” Virgil hums as he’s spun away again, answering as he’s brought back to face Dee. “I could come with you. They know that I know you, and they trust me, I could convince them if they don’t believe you.”

Dee watches Virgil spin around one more time before speaking up. “Why are you up there?” He found out long ago that questions are something he can speak without them being twisted. Virgil shrugs, which looks a bit strange upside down. “You know how this works just as well as I do, Dee. When someone-”

“Yes, yes. I don’t mean... Why are you still up there? Don’t come down.” Virgil looks at Dee’s face for a moment before curling up to grip the fan, then maneuvering his legs so he was danging upright. He lets go of the fan and lands on his feet in front of Dee, offering him a hand. “Come on, Princey and Patton should be back soon, we can do this together.”

Dee nods, taking Virgil’s hand and standing up.

Roman panted loudly as he ran, feet pounding on the solid Earth beneath him, causing small puffs of dust to rise and trail behind him. He was sweating; it was hot out and he’d been running for a good ten minutes, with the monster never showing a sign of faltering or tiring. He curses under his breath as his empty scabbard hits the back of his thigh with every other step. If he hadn’t lost his sword...

The monster roars, the sound loud and cacophonous, making birds in the surrounding field take off in flight. Roman feels his heart leap as he pushes on past his growing fatigue, trying to remember where he put the door. He runs until he sees the local village, and makes a beeline for it. The door wasn’t far from the other side of the village, he was almost there. Roman stumbles, almost falling and regaining his footing and just barely escaping the monster’s claws. It roars in anger again, gnashing it’s teeth. Roman spares a glance over his shoulder as he nears the edge of the village, paling at the sight of the monster gaining on him. He runs through the streets, calling at the villagers to turn and run as the monster comes thundering after him, carelessly crushing stalls underfoot and ramming into buildings as it passed. Roman swallows around the lump in his throat, his heartbeat deafening his ears, his legs complaining from being pushed so far for so long.

Roman looks over his shoulder at the monster once again, not seeing the cart in front of him and crashing into it with the right side of his body, sending him sprawling to the ground. He halts himself with his hands, getting to his hands and knees just as a shadow blocks out the sun overhead.

Roman rolls to sit, resting back on his hands, eyes wide, hair and clothes disheveled, staring up at the monster looming over him, snarling. It’s breath is hot, and reeks of decaying flesh. Roman gags, his heart thundering in his chest and his arms shaking. He feels along the ground for something, anything, as he refuses to look away from the beast. Oh god, he’s going to die. This thing is going to kill him and Thomas will never have an idea ever again and Patton will cry and Virgil will never leave his room and Logan will-

There’s a familiar scream as the monster goes in for the attack, and Roman looks over to see... Virgil? No, not just that..

Virgil.

Stuck in a stone wall.

Looking absolutely terrified as he watches Roman just lay there as this monster-

Roman tears his gaze away long enough to roll to the side, just missing the jaw of the beast and jumping to his feet, running to Virgil.

“Virge! What are you-? How did you even-?” Virgil looks like he’d been falling through the wall when it decided to solidify around him; his left arm is encased in stone almost up to the elbow as well as half of his right hand. His left leg is almost completely in stone, the upper half of his thigh the only denim showing. His right leg is free though, dangling at an odd angle due to Virgil being several inches above the ground. Even some of his hair seems to be caught in the stone, keeping him from moving his head too much.

Virgil isn’t looking at Roman though; his terrified gaze is locked on the monster behind him, clawing at the ground and getting ready to charge. Virgil’s breathing is shallow and uneven, and what Roman can see of him is trembling like a leaf. “R-Roman-!” Virgil screams again as the monster charges, and Roman spins around, summoning his sword just in time to bring it up and block the monster’s claws, pushing it back a step. It roars and Virgil’s breathing does something funny. Shit, Roman needs to end this soon and help him out.

Roman goes on the offensive now, attacking the monster with a vengeance. He can’t let this thing defeat him or hurt Virgil! He cuts the monster’s arm, blood gushing from the deep wound as it screams and rears back on it’s hind legs, then comes down on Roman. Roman runs toward it, sliding down to his knees as the front paws near the ground, and brings his sword up to stab into the monster’s stomach, cutting it open as he slides to a halt. Blood covers both him and the Earth around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, clamping his jaw. Monster blood, eugh.

Roman takes a moment to just sit there, catching his breath and letting the tremors leave his body before he stands and tries to wipe some of the blood from his face. He turns to look at Virgil, large grin dying on his face as soon as he takes in the other’s appearance.

Virgil is an absolute mess. He’s shaking uncontrollably, sobbing loudly as tears race down his cheeks, his breathing quick and panicked, eyes wide, staring right at Roman. Roman frowns with concern and raises a hand, taking a couple steps closer, but when Virgil’s breathing gets worse he stops. Shit, what is he supposed to do now? His friend is literally stuck in a wall and having a panic attack and Roman is covered in-

He wants to slap himself for being so stupid. He snaps his fingers instead, and instantly all the blood is gone, along with the monster’s corpse. Roman holds both hands up placatingly as he slowly, so slowly, moves closer to Virgil. Virgil tries to speak, but with how hard he’s crying and how much he’s panicking he can’t form a coherent sound, much less a sentence. Roman gently shushes him and rests a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It’s alright, Virge. It’s okay. The monster’s gone, it can’t hurt you or me. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe. We’re okay. Just breathe.” Roman stumbles through Virgil’s breathing exercise a few times until Virgil is mostly calmed down, now just crying softly with the occasional soft whimper. “there you go, you’re doing great, Virge. Everything’s okay. We’re safe. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Roman feels the stone wall, frowning slightly. It certainly feels like solid stone, so then how did Virgil..? “Virge? How did you get here?”

Virgil sniffs and looks at his arm poking out from the stone. “I-” No use in hiding it now, “When people- sides- experience fear, if I’m too distracted to filter it out, it summons me. You... You were scared...” Realization dawns on Roman’s face and he sighs softly. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Virge. I’m sorry I scared you.” Virgil shakes his head. “You didn’t know. Besides, you can’t help how you feel.” Roman hums and raps his knuckles on the stone. “How are we supposed to get you out of this?”

Virgil actually looks embarrassed. “I... I can’t sink out like this.” Roman just looks at him. “You mean...”

“Yeah.”

“Poseidon’s trident. Alright, I’ll go... recruit some help.”

It took nearly three hours for Roman and the village men to chip away at the wall enough to free Virgil, and the entire time the anxious side had been tense, flinching any time a pick came too close for comfort. Roman had been there to reassure him, and once they freed his leg, Roman helped him to the ground. As they were walking toward the other end of the village, to the door leading back to the Mind Palace, Roman spoke. “This is going to make such an epic tale!” Virgil just snrks and shakes his head, earning a quizzical look from Roman. “What?”

“No one will ever believe you.”

((lol did you think we were done?))

On one of Thomas’ rare days off - no videos to make, no plans with friends, no need to visit the store, not even a phone call to be made - all five of the sides were relaxing with Thomas in his apartment. Roman and Patton were playing some old video game on the TV, Logan was reading at the table, and Dee was laying across the other end of the couch, his head in Thomas’ lap and Thomas’ hand carding though his hair. Thomas sighs happily as he closes his eyes, listening to Roman and Patton shout and jeer and make a general ruckus, the occasional page flipping from Logan, and Dee’s soft relaxed breathing. Virgil was around here somewhere... Thomas was honestly bummed that the anxious side hadn’t wanted to hang out with them; even Dee was trying to get past his discomfort to spend some time with all of them! But he supposed it couldn’t be helped. Virgil was anxiety, Thomas was sure some social settings just weren’t his thing.

Patton and Roman finished their game and suggested a movie, to which everyone agreed happily. Thomas stood as Dee sat up, making his way over to the TV and looking through his DVDs, grabbing Toy Story and popping it int he DVD player and sitting next to Dee again. The five of them got comfortable as the movie started, Thomas wishing for the dozenth time that day that Virgil felt comfortable enough to be here with them.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Thomas starts feeling a fluttering of nervousness in his chest. This confuses him, because he doesn’t have any reason to be anxious or scared right now. No one’s arguing, he doesn’t have any deadlines approaching, the movie isn’t even scary. And yet...

Thirty minutes into the movie and Thomas is feeling anxious. He fidgets, unable to focus on one thing, eyes darting around a bit as his heart starts to speed up. He does the breathing exercise Virgil taught him, and keeps doing it because it doesn’t seem to be working. He hopes his sides don’t notice; he doesn’t want to worry them unnecessarily.

Forty-five minutes in and Thomas is verging on a panic attack. His heart is beating too fast, and his mind is racing too much for him to even figure out what he’s panicking about. His chest feels tight, and he feels light-headed. He slowly and gently slips his hand into Dee’s and squeezes lightly. Dee glances at him, frowns, and squeezes back. Thomas doesn’t answer his questioning look. He doesn’t know what’s wrong either.

Fifty minutes in and Thomas is openly having a panic attack. Patton pauses the movie, face etched in concern, and crouches in front of Thomas. Roman sits on his other side, taking his free hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of Thomas’ hand. Logan puts a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that everything’s okay, he’s safe. But Thomas knows he’s safe, he knows everything’s fine, he just doesn’t know why he’s panicking and that’s freaking him out even more and that panic leads to more panic and-

“V-Virgil-” Thomas gets out, and Patton nods, standing and heading for the stairs. He’s not even on the third step when Virgil appears.

Except he doesn’t just appear. He falls into the room. Through the ceiling. As soon as his head pops out he’s screaming, black eye shadow streaked down his face - just like Thomas thought, he’d been panicking too. Virgil is screaming, terrified out of his mind. He stops falling, which confuses Thomas and seems to scare Virgil even more, because now he’s hanging from the ceiling by one ankle, his other limbs akimbo. His face is covered in running makeup, his clothes are rumpled, and he’s crying uncontrollably, screaming every time he moves and it causes him to sway a bit.

In an instant, Patton is moving to stand right below him, trying to calm him down while stretching to reach him. Logan rushes to the dining area, grabbing a chair and bringing it over. Patton doesn’t hesitate to climb on top of it, cupping Virgil’s cheeks and petting his hair, trying to support his head and keep him from moving too much. Dee fidgets beside a stunned Thomas; he wants to help, but he doesn’t know how he can. He can’t reassure Virgil because he can only speak in lies. He’s honestly a little freaked out because he’s never seen this happen before. That is, he’s never seen Virgil come plummeting through the ceiling. Logan goes and grabs two more chairs, both soon occupied by himself and Roman, who are both trying to help Patton calm Virgil down and support his weight so he doesn’t feel like he’s dangling by a foot.

Logan turns to the two remaining Sanders on the couch. “Please do try to calm down, he can’t calm down if you’re panicking.” Dee bites his tongue and nods, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down. Thomas does the same and the two of them watch as the other three slowly calm Virgil. It feels like hours before he stops screaming and crying, but he never stops shaking. Patton and Roman stay on the chairs, petting Virgil’s hair and keeping his head propped up, gently stroking his cheeks, shoulders, chest, anything to ground him.

“We need to devise a way to free Virgil’s foot from the ah... Ceiling.” Thomas looks from Virgil to Logan, now standing in front of him. “How? Do we need to... Break it?” Virgil makes a panicked sound and Thomas clarifies. “The ceiling! Not your foot, oh god Virgil, not your foot.” Patton shushes Virgil gently and Roman speaks up.

“Yeah, we’ll have to free his foot manually. He can’t sink out when he’s like this.” Thomas hums with concern, trying to think if he has anything that can help.

“Oh!” He runs off, shooting up the stairs and coming back a moment later with a toolbox. Logan’s face lights up in recognition. “We will have to be very careful-” He lowers his voice, “or we may injure Virgil.” Thomas nods and sets the toolbox on the couch, taking out the two hammers sitting within and handing them to Logan. Logan takes them and holds one out to Dee. “I require your assistance.”

Dee’s eyes widen. “Me?” Logan nods. “The other two will be preoccupied with keeping Virgil calm. It will only take longer if I do it by myself.” Dee nods nervously and grabs another chair, getting on it along with Logan on his chair and he glances at Virgil. “We... We will get you out soon.” He makes eye contact with Virgil, who nods shakily. Dee can tell the truth, if he tries hard enough, but it takes a lot of effort, so he saves it for important moments. Dee and Logan slowly start hammering at the plaster, and when Virgil whimpers Patton and Roman talk to him to distract him. As the ceiling around Virgil’s foot is broken away, Patton and Roman slowly start supporting more and more of Virgil’s weight. Once his foot is finally free, Logan and Dee slowly and gently lower his legs. Once he’s upright, he clings tightly to Patton, trembling uncontrollably. Patton holds onto Virgil protectively, one hand on the back of Virgil’s head. The others get down and put the chairs back, and Logan starts vacuuming up the mess as Patton and Virgil finally get down. Virgil refuses to let go of Patton as they sit on the couch, and Thomas immediately moves to Virgil’s free side and hugs him as well.

Once everything’s cleaned and put away, the other sides join them on the couch, Logan next to Patton and Roman next to Thomas, with Dee spread out across everyone’s laps. Virgil intertwines his fingers with Dee’s as Roman puts on the Black Cauldron. Virgil falls asleep soon after.

A/N: The Dee part is my favorite. I haven’t had a chance to write him (aside from one fic where he’s an abusive ass) and I’ve had all these ideas buzzing in my head so I just had to do it. Plus, when I thought “what would scare Dee?” I instantly thought “the truth”. But it’d have to be a truth Dee was at least semi-unaware of; something that he didn’t recognize or dwell on, because he’d be admitting to something he’d rather not acknowledge. So it was part me-wanting-to-analyze and part can’t-rush-the-fear-factor. This was SOOOOO much fun to write!

#angst #panic attack #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 6 years

Text

I’m Coming Back For You - Pt. 1

Jerome Valeska x Winged!Reader

A/N: Hello y’all! I’m back with another story! This time it’s a story set in the Gotham universe since I’ve been binging the show recently, and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with it! This is a story that I thought up, and I may turn it into multiple parts if it gets to be too long.

Summary Kinda Thing/Original Imagine: This is basically the story of your relationship with everyone’s favorite murder carrot.

Warnings: This may be kinda long, and throughout the entire story there will probably be a few time skips. I don’t know if that’s cause for warning, but there you go! I’m also going to change some things in the plot, most should be minor, but there might me something major since I haven’t seen season four yet. There’s minor spoilers, but nothing ground-breaking. This story starts before Jerome is put in Arkham for killing his mom. (Sorry. Minor spoiler there.) Also, in the beginning it’s set around Christmas time, and the reader might do some Christmas-y things, but I mean no offense, or non-inclusion to anyone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas. Finally, minor swearing. Maybe.

Winter in Gotham was always brutal. Much like the town itself. However, you didn’t mind because that meant that you could roast marshmallows over the fire in your fireplace, and wear big sweaters while watching classic Christmas movies.

Right now, you were sitting in your favorite armchair, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa, reading your favorite book. Nuzzling your face a little further into the over-sized turtleneck of your burgundy sweater, and draping one of your crimson wings over your lap, you tuned into the back ground, listening to “It’s A Wonderful Life” which happened to be playing on TV.

Your reading was interrupted only when you heard the distinct double-knock which announced the arrival of someone at your door. You stood and marked the spot in your book, then quickly made your way to the front door to greet the person waiting there. A little part of you hoped it was carolers, but given that it was the evening in Gotham, you thought that that was highly unlikely.

When you reached the oak door that was stained to look a deep cherry red, you turned the brass doorknob and opened the door to the shivering guests outside. The cool winter breeze smacked you in the face as the door swung open, and your four wings perked up happily to see Jim Gordon, and a ginger boy you didn’t recognize who looked to be about your age. He looked at you quizzically, curiously. It was more than likely towards the four giant wings on your back, but who knows. Your hair had been acting pretty weird lately.

“Hiya Jim! What brings you all the way over here this late on a cold Winter’s Night?” You ask the detective dramatically, motioning to him and the stranger that they were welcome to come in.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m here for a case…sort of. This is Jerome Valeksa.” Jim explained, turning to look at the ginger. “His mother was murdered this afternoon and he needs a place to stay. I know this is short notice, but do you think he could stay here for a while? At least until we can find his mother’s killer?”

Your wings dropped in sudden sadness for the boy. “Yes! That would be perfectly fine!” You quickly answer, losing any and all joking tones you had had earlier. Then you turned to Jerome. “”I’m so sorry hun! I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through! You can make yourself at home and I’ll go set up the guest room.”

“Thank you.” Jerome answered, sniffling a little bit at the end of his sentence. His face was still blotchy and a little red from either the cold, or crying. Probably both.

“I’m (Y/N) by the way. Ill have your room ready in a few minutes. If you’d like there’s some Taco Soup on the stove. Bowls are going to be in the cupboard above the stove to the right.” You explained, then turned to go down the hallway to your guest room.

Once you were in the room, putting the sheets on the full-sized bed, Jim came in and helped you with the dreaded fitted sheet.

“Thank you for letting Jerome stay here. Especially on such short notice. Poor kid’s been through hell.”

“I don’t mind at all. If something like that were to happen to me, I’d be completely distraught. I know I would want to stay somewhere other than home. Too many memories.” You replied somberly, beginning to work on the sheets, tucking your wings tightly to your back so they didn’t get in the way.

“I’m sure he’s grateful.” Jim paused for a moment, fighting with a pillowcase. “Ill come back when I’ve got more information, or the name of the murderer.”

“Alrighty. I wish you luck with the case.”

“Thank you.” Jim paused for a moment, worry glinting in his eyes. “I hope we can find the killer.”

“You will Jim. I have no doubt.” You say, trying to offer some comfort.

With that, Jim smiled, and left you to finish off the comforter and the last pillowcase.

Once you were done setting up the room, you headed back to the kitchen where you found Jerome sitting over an empty bowl of soup, looking into it as if it held the secrets to the universe and life itself.

“Did you like it?” You asked as you made a b-line for the stove where the warm soup lay waiting for you.

Jerome jumped as if he hadn’t heard you coming. He swung his head to look at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m a quiet walker. How was the soup?” You asked once more, grabbing a bowl and filling it for yourself.

“It was really good.” He replied. His voice seemed a little more confident than before, and that made you happy on the inside. You hoped that that meant that he felt at least a little more comfortable here.

“Thank you. It’s my special recipe.” You say as you take a seat at the end of the table next to him.

“You’re a very good cook then.” Jerome complimented.

“Why, thank you.” You beamed inside and out, wings lifting a little in happiness. You liked it when someone complimented you or your cooking.

You took the next few minutes to explain where his room was and the bathroom and everything he needed to know.

“…And most importantly…… this is where I keep the hot cocoa.” You revealed the lower cabinet’s stash of hot chocolate dramatically, gaining a laugh out of Jerome as you giggled yourself.

Once you calmed down a bit, you sat on the floor, letting your wings fall beside you, and Jerome sat next to you, careful not to step on, or sit on your wings. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds just smiling and chuckling to yourselves. After a bit, you broke the silence.

“Can I say something? Something that might be very offensive?” You ask hesitantly, worried about what you wanted to say.

“Sure. As Long as I get to ask you a question in response.” He smirked a little before turning to look at you expectantly.

“Alright. Ill give you that.” You smiled at him before continuing on. “Here we go… For someone who’s mother was murdered a few hours ago, you don’t seem very distraught.” You took a second to realize just how terrible that sounded out loud, and rushed to fix your mistake. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be that rude! I’m so stupid! Everyone has their own ways of coping with loss. How could I possibly be so-”

“Don’t worry.” Jerome’s short sentence cut off your rambling, which took you by surprise. That and you were honestly confused by his answer. “I don’t mind. Don’t tell anyone else, but I’m almost glad she’s gone.”

You were surprised to say the least, but then again, you knew that not everyone has a happy family.

“Do you mind me asking why?” You were almost scared for his response. Suddenly, Jerome’s face grew dark, and it was like you were looking st a completely different person.

“Oh, she just nagged, and fucked around, and nagged some more, and then beat me within an inch of my life. With her ‘partners’. Multiple. Times.” By the end of his explanation each word was its own sentence. He was fuming. Meanwhile, your heart broke for him. Subconsciously, you laid a wing on his lap in some attempt of comfort.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely whispered, staring at nothing in particular as you began to lose yourself in thought.

You didn’t notice it, but Jerome looked at you. He couldn’t put an emotion to how he looked at you, but he just watched as you laid one of your beautiful wings on his lap. Strangely enough, it actually made him feel better, which was something completely unexpected.

After a few moment’s silence you looked to Jerome who was staring at your wing, but you felt like he was lost in his thoughts as well. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke up with a quiet, almost comforting voice.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me?”

It was as if you had pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times before asking you what you had said.

“I’m curious about what it was that you wanted to ask me.” You repeated softly. “Oh. I was just wondering about your wings.” He asked like he had just remembered something that was on the tip of his tongue. The darkness had left his face and he looked like the same ginger he was when you met him.

You huffed a bit of a laugh.

“Well, what about them?” You questioned.

“Everything I guess. How you got ‘em. Why they’re red. Why there are four of them.” He started to ramble off.

“Well, as far as I know, I was born with them.” You began, looking down to the wing that was still on Jerome’s lap. “I’ve had them for as long as I can remember, and they’ve always been this color. Except dad always said that they were pink for the first few months of my life. I’ve always had the four, and they’ve never let me down.” You explain with a sense of pride. You liked it when someone took an interest in your wings.

“They’re fascinating.” Jerome stated, gingerly reaching a hand out to touch your wing.

When you saw what he was doing, you quickly pulled your wing back, and he looked at you with confusion in his eyes and furrowed brow.

“Sorry. I’m….hesitant when it comes to letting people touch my wings.

“Do you mind me asking why?” He was curious.

“It’s a long story… well, not long. Just…painful.” You respond, looking down at your wings and pulling them closer to you.

“Alright then. I won’t push you.”

After a minute or two of silence, just stewing in your thoughts, you announced that you were going to head to bed, and Jerome followed suit.

#jerome valeska fluff #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #what am i?#Im jerome valeska trash #jerome valeska #soft jerome #kinda #jerome before arkham #what am i doing with my life #why must i do this to myself

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catrector · 6 years

Text

The Immersion Tactic: Because we can’t stop telling people how to write

The writing process. You know, that thing that people want to tell you how to do properly. I’ve got some opinions.

First and foremost, I'm no gatekeeper. I'm not here to tell you what is or isn't allowed, or what disqualifies you from the title of "serious author". I don't believe in cookie-cutter methods or elitism. I do believe in offering up information to others to do as they please with it, in order to help other writers find their way out of the dark woods that can be the writing process.

So. Let’s begin. As indicated by the title, my process has been immersion. Now wait, I'm not talking moving to France to bury yourself in croissants and macaroons. I'm talking diving in so deep that you're living your work during the majority of your free time. I'm talking about absorbing ideas and information while you're not actively working on your project, whether by watching a movie to study dialogue or by listening to a deeply moving love song to get in touch with your MC’s feelings. Writing is exhausting. Sometimes you need a break. But you can also choose to use your downtime in ways that benefit the work.

If this seems an interesting theory, read on. It's worked for me, but it won't work for everyone. Maybe you'll steal a single item and leave the rest where it lies. I'm not here to judge; I'm here to build you up. Let me know if anything works for you. Here we go:

Sit in windows, on balconies, in gardens, at cafes, and on buses, and just stare into the abyss: You know when you lie down to sleep and then an amazing idea comes to you, and it's such inconvenient timing? It's not coincidence. You've finally stopped moving and thinking long enough to let ideas flow. Actively make time for this type of creativity by being idle. Leverage the still moments in your day to daydream about your story, even if you've completely zoned out at lunch and your whole table thinks you’re dead.

Make a playlist: I have two playlists. I have one without English lyrics, so that I can tune out the world and focus on my task, and one with English lyrics. The second is a tool I use to immerse myself in my scenes and characters. I listen to it in the shower, on the bus, and while I'm doing the dishes. It forces me to remember the scene or character it references, and usually drives my motivation to write. Use this to keep your characters sitting on your shoulders at all times.

Play video games: Yeah you heard me. While working on this project, I played God of War 4, Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice, Northgard, Jotun, and a handful of other Norse/Viking themed games. They’ll never provide you with pure fact, but I learned to ask questions about the information they provided, to look up things they presented me with, and to study the contents for details I could use, like mood or setting. I didn't even know about Valravn until I play Hellblade, so I have no regrets. But don't be stupid. Horror games are perfect for brainstorming horror stories, dystopian games for distopian worlds, etc. But I'm not dumb eh. You have no excuses to play Call of Duty if you're writing an Italian romance.

Watch TV: This depends on your subject matter. For me, I only watched Vikings. The takeaway is the same as playing games. Watch the thing, ask questions, look for facts. Study the content while you’re unwinding with ice cream and a bag of chips. Learn to identify tropes, try to guess where plots will twist and how, and then use those lessons to avoid being predictable. TV and movies are also the kings of dialogue, so pay attention. I learned a lot from watching Buffy on repeat, and recommend it to anyone.

Research with books: If you're not reading as research, you’ve missed a critical part of the reading books things. However, research isn't limited to looking up which era the T-Rex lived in. Read to study style, nuance, and flow. I started rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles because I wanted to learn from Rothfuss' writing style. No don’t argue with me. That man is a God.

Make a Pinterest Board (or 20): How do you research ancient clothing, jewelry, and building types when your budget won't let you fly to Iceland for a month? Fucking Pinterest. Members of pagan communities who craft and wear period clothing have saved my life. Photo references of people, places, and things are key to any piece of research. Pin the shit out of things and then reference them for the rest of your days. Go to a museum: Writing a book that takes place in ancient Egypt? Go get face to face with some mummies. Learn what you can while getting some air for once, and use the opportunity to talk out some of your ideas with your museum buddy. This applies to anything. Scout out cafes for scenes you're writing, go to fantasy festivals to drink mead and make offerings to Gods, check out a botanical garden and take notes, whatever floats your literary boat. Your body will thank you for leaving the house, and you won’t forget the experience.

Go to writing meetings and don't actually write: Commiserating about the process might have been the only thing that kept me from crawling under a rock. Can't fix that plot hole? That's okay, these people know how you feel. Stuck on a section? They have some suggestions for you. Looking for research books? Somehow they have the perfect title for you. Sometimes you need a stiff drink and a chat to get back to work. (But for christ sake, don't be that guy who talks through work time. If everyone is feeling like chatting, fine. That's a group decision. Don’t be the asshat that distracts everyone else.)

Scribble down side stories: Sometimes something doesn’t fit the plot, but fits the world. It doesn't mean you shouldn't write it. It may help flesh out your current story. Keep a side folder for these and have fun writing them when you can't stand your story anymore. Cook and eat the food from your world: Good in the kitchen? Try making that exquisite meal you wrote into chapter 12. Remind yourself what sushi tastes like before you have to describe what it tastes like. Really want to go the extra mile? Learn to fish, make a fire and cook it yourself. IMMERSION. Sketch: If you have a talent for art, draw your characters. Draw their outfits, their jewelry, their pets. I did this a bit, but it turns out I'm out of practice and was more apt to throw the pencil through the window. Either way, it will help you visualize outfits, hairstyles, and will let you watch a fucking movie while you do it. Actually write the damn book: Naturally this is the most important part. You can’t get around it. You have to put in the time. I've done all of the above, but I've also stuck in hundreds and hundreds of hours of writing for this one story. And it can be hard to do the writing, I know that. But that’s what you’re here for, so when you’re done with the creative outlet, channel it into the writing.

Now I hear the skeptics. These are all just distractions, you could just be writing! Listen, no one is saying don’t write. And you may be the type who can just sit and write, but not everyone is, and certainly not 24/7. All brains work differently. The conversation also conveniently ignores minds that function in other ways. Perhaps someone on the autism spectrum has another process than someone with synesthesia, or someone who’s neurotypical.

Follow the path that takes you to the story. That path has more twists for some people than others. Put in the work, and do it how you need to do it. If you're worried about procrastinating because of all these side quests, give yourself guidelines and boundaries. Set yourself achievable goals that will bring you back to the work.

I’ve tried to have fun with my creative process, because that suits who I am, but it doesn’t make me less serious about the work I’m doing. Ask the people who haven’t seen me in a year if I’m committed to the work. The story will be written. It will be published come Hel or high water. I’m just doing it my way.

TLDR; Don't let other people tell you how to be fucking creative.

#Writerblr #Writing #write #writer problems #writer advice

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