#sympathetic Virgil

[seagull-soupp]

Omg I need help finding this fic like it's actual bugging me so bad, so like, repost or dm me or whatever, I don't use Tumblr, but tell me if anyone has read this fic and if they know where to find it.

In short, U!Patton. Virgil wakes to find himself tied in a chair, Patton ends up coming down and leaving him there for hours until finally giving him like strawberry pancakes and orange juice?? An odd detail but WHO CARES!! Anyways, he force fed him moldy and rotten food as a punishment one time. Then he sent down Roman to use Virgil as a stress reliever then sent down Logan who did electrocution experiments on him.

It was an unamed series on a u!Patton acc but I feel like the acc has been deleted or all their posts have, but if anyone recognizes this story TELL ME PLEASE I'll litteraly write a oneshot for anyone who finds it I'm fr

#unsympathetic patton #sympathetic virgil #sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

How Romantic

what if a side did get forgotten? they got pushed to the side enough (maybe by the others being in a relationship, maybe by other conflicts) and the mindscape started to remove the "unnecessary" influence – doteddestroyer

Read on Ao3

Warnings: fading/ducking out, but he's fine

Pairings: none, so gen

Word Count: 4777

Romanticism emphasized the individual, the subjective, the irrational, the imaginative, the personal, the spontaneous, the emotional, the visionary, and the transcendental. When Roman is forgotten as a part of Creativity, well, what use does the Imagination have for a prince when it can simply put the Romantic into its work in other ways? Remus has a few things to say about that.

It shouldn’t be all that surprising, really, to think that if a Mind forgets something, it will no longer manifest. Or rather, to not think of it. Or, one could imagine the consequences of not imagining something.

Listen, Roman’s already mostly out the door, he doesn’t have enough cognitive function left to think his way in and out of all the contradictions that arise from the things he says.

The basic principle is this: if a thing is no longer relevant in the Mindscape, which is a consequence of people not thinking about it, then it ceases to exist. The Mindscape doesn’t put the energy into making it a thing. Think of it like a video game. The game only renders the part of the role that the player is currently in, there’s no use for it to render the secret dungeon buried in the third level of the side quest that hardly anyone knows about. It’s more efficient if it doesn’t and in the incredibly slim chance that the player does end up there, then the game can render it and it’ll be fine and it’ll de-load as soon as they leave to go back to the main game.

Got it?

Great.

So, that’s where Roman is right now. In his room, waiting to be de-loaded. He has his Prince costume on, because that’s the version of him that’s going to fade last, his room is all made up in his signature red: red curtains, red comforter, red pillowcases, red notebook laid on his desk. He’s even got his sword out for a final sharpening—no, that’s not a dirty joke, he’s not that Creativity, he’s literally just taking care of the katana—as he waits for the telltale shudder of the Mindscape forgetting something.

He hums absentmindedly to himself as the whetstone sings against the blade. Really, it’s surprising it’s taking this long. Well, not really. Forgetting things is a slow process, it’s not like you can snap your fingers and poof, something’s gone. At the very least, it has to be long enough that something else has taken its place in your mind, and then when you look, you can’t even tell that something was ever missing from it.

Remus has that handled. And Roman will fight anyone who says that’s just because he’s intrusive thoughts, or whatever, no, Remus is memorable all on his own, thank you very much. He’s far cleverer than they all give him credit. And Roman wishes he was half as quick as Remus.

Again, not an innuendo. That’s not his thing, remember?

And Remus isn’t bound by the same creative limits he is! He can run wild—literally, if they let him—and come up with the most incredible things that open up all sorts of new possibilities for what they could do, what they can talk about, what sorts of things they could explore. Isn’t that so much better than just regurgitating the same story idea, over and over and over, doesn’t that get exhausting? How can you imagine something new when all you’re able to do is ricochet around the same blank boring box?

His hand shudders a little as it moves back up the blade. He never liked creative blocks.

And how nice would it be to have a Creativity that wasn’t bound to the fragility of the Ego? How much better, how much easier would it be if you didn’t have to worry about getting bruised and hurt every single time you got feedback on something you made? Making things is hard, you know, it’s vulnerable and terrifying and mortifying especially when you’re showing the end product to someone—and even if you aren’t! Even if it sits on a shelf in your room or a folder on your computer and it never, ever sees the light of day, that’s still scary! You’ve made something, it exists now because of you, and now someone could look at it and see you through it and—and—

Well. You get the idea.

Roman sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He puts the katana away and places the whetstone back in its little box. As he goes to pick it up, it falls through his hands and hits the floor with a low thud.

Ah. So it is starting after all.

He leaves the box on the floor and goes back to the bed. He lies down, not sinking very much at all into his red covers. He folds his hands on his chest and stares up at the ceiling.

It makes sense, after all, that the parts of him the others don’t know about—or have already forgotten about—are going first. The whetstone. They know he has a sword. They probably don’t know how he takes care of it. His bed is red, and he’s the color red, so it’s still here. His room, his prince costume, his desk, all things he needs to be Creativity, or at least half of Creativity, so it will probably go last too.

He lets his head loll to the side, staring at his red notebook. bits of grey begin to enter his vision, the red notebook standing out like a sore thumb. He wonders if any of the things written on its pages would still be there if he looked.

He did love that notebook. It was his friend when no one else would be his friend. It was there for him when it wasn’t okay for him to have someone there for him, when he’d messed up too much to deserve comfort from anyone else, he would go to the notebook. Mainly because the notebook didn’t have a choice.

He’s written a small thing the other day about that, actually. He wonders if it’s still there. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can remember it.

Why don’t you talk to me?; you’re unkind to me; why don’t you talk to me?; I tried and you turned it into a lecture; why don’t you talk to me?; you make fun of me when I try to express how I’m feeling; why don’t you talk to me?; I tried to ask you for help and you turned it into a game of who could mock me the most until I ran away; why don’t you talk to me?; because you were still laughing when I ran away crying; why don’t you talk to me?; because you made me feel guilty for needing help; why don’t you talk to me?; because you made me feel ashamed for wanting support and comfort; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t want to be in trouble; why don’t you talk to me?; I want to be hurt and upset and have that be okay because I got hurt by something; why don’t you talk to me?; the loneliest time in the world is right before you tell someone else what you did wrong because you know they won’t want to comfort you anymore; why don’t you talk to me?; it’s cold here; why don’t you talk to me?; I just want to be alone now; why don’t you talk to me?; I learned my lesson already; why don’t you talk to me?; what would I have to say?; why don’t you talk to me?; tell me the right words to use so you’ll actually care about me; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t want to; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t trust you anymore; why don’t you talk to me?; why would I talk to you?

Ah, that’s it.

His melodrama will probably be the last thing to go too.

He sighs, rubbing his cheek half-heartedly against the pillow in search of some meager comfort. He hasn’t been forgotten enough that the pain that lingers in his chest and hands has gone away, though he’s not sure how. He doesn’t think anyone knows about that—except maybe Remus.

Oh, Remus.

Roman’s chest burns and he gasps, sudden tears coming to the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave his brother, not after everything they’ve been through, not after all the work they’ve done to get back to the place they’re at now, after all this time, not when they’re finally brothers again. He sniffles, going to wipe his nose and his hands just start to ache. He curls up on the bed, around his pained hands, weeping for himself, for his brother, for Creativity.

Enough of his mind remains to put the pieces together and realize oh, of course. In forgetting everything else, I have been left with the things that I am at my core.

Pain in his chest and hands and an undying love for his brother.

A more complete Creativity might’ve called it Romantic.

***

Thomas sighs. To say that most of these meetings go well would be a lie, but this meeting is not going well.

“Look, all I’m saying is that—“

“Well, that’s your problem right there, you’ve been doing an awful lot of ‘saying’ and not a lot of ‘listening.’”

“Your sass, as delightful as it is, kiddo, is not helpful right now.”

“Oh, really? And here I thought it was the most pivotal thing at the moment.”

“No, it’s not, because it’s taking valuable time from—“

“Sarcasm, Patton. That was sarcasm.”

“And see! That’s another thing—“

“Oh, for the love of Archimedes…”

Yeah. not going well. Thomas pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out what this conversation started with and how exactly they ended up here.

Right, okay.

He’d gotten a text from a friend about a thing they wanted to go do. The problem was, the thing cost money to do and the friend hadn’t said anything about paying for Thomas to come. His finances weren’t awful but it wasn’t like he had the amount of money to just…spare. Logan had suggested they ask and confirm who would be paying the entrance fee, Virgil had worried that it was rude to ask something like that, Janus had proposed a number of ways they could ‘surreptitiously’ ask about it, and Patton had worried about going at all if they were going to be guilt-tripped into it or if the friend had just assumed Thomas would be fine paying for it.

It had…developed from there.

“Look,” Logan says, “there is a very simple way to ask whether or not Thomas is to pay for his own entrance fee. We simply text or call them back and ask.”

“But what if they freak out about it? That’s a weird thing to ask!”

“How is it a weird thing to ask?”

“They might think we’re trying to freeload, or that we’re going to ask them to pay us back, or what if they think that we’re broke?”

“Hey!” Patton puts his hands on his hips. “You are not broken, kiddo, and I won’t stand for you saying that you are!”

“…not what I meant, but thanks, I guess.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Well, if we’re this stressed out about a simple invitation to something we want to go to anyway, perhaps we should reconsider whether we want to be friends with them at all.”

“Now that’s a bit of an overreaction.”

“Sarcastic! I was being sarcastic!’

Yeah. That’s about where they are now. Out of sheer desperation, if nothing else, he glances over at Remus. Remus’s arms are hanging over the TV, swinging his hands as he grins at the chaos unfolding. He catches Thomas’s gaze and tilts his head in a silent question. Thomas gestures weakly around and Remus shrugs.

“I voted we just go without paying, but apparently that’s illegal or something.”

“Yeah, buddy, that’s…we’re not gonna do that.”

Remus shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“Alright, look,” Thomas says, raising his voice enough to speak over the current argument about—you know what, he’s not even gonna ask— “this isn’t going anywhere. If we’re going to figure out what we are actually going to do, we need to think about this differently.”

“It’s a simple issue, Thomas.”

“And yet, we’ve been talking for close to an hour and we’ve made zero progress.” Thomas rubs his forehead. “Look, where’s Roman?”

There’s a pause.

“Roman?” Patton frowns. "Why would we need Roman?”

“Well, you know, he’s…also Creativty? Maybe he can help us think of something we’re not thinking of?”

“Remus is also Creativity,” Logan says, indicating Remus who gives a cheery little wave. “His suggestions have been…well, we’ve ruled them out.”

“That’s because you guys are no fun.”

“Yeah, but Roman is a different Creativity. Doesn’t it make sense that what he’d come up with would be different.”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “I suppose so.”

“Why didn’t he show up today, does anyone know?”

“Perhaps he is working on another video idea.”

“Maybe he got lost in the Imagination? Happens to me all the time.”

“Maybe he slept in. God knows he harps on about his ‘beauty sleep’ enough.”

“Janus? Remus? What about you two?”

“Why would I bother to keep track of anything Roman does?” Thomas narrows his eyes at him and Janus sighs, rolling his eyes. “No, I don’t know where he is or why he didn’t bother to show up, nor do I much care.”

“Janus!”

“What?”

Patton puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t be so dismissive, how would you like it if someone said that about you?”

”I don’t know, Virgil, how would I like it?”

“Hey, leave me out of this, I don’t have anything to do with whatever the heck this is.”

Thomas just barely suppresses a deep sigh and looks over at Remus. Remus, however, is not relishing in the argument breaking out between the three of them. Instead, he’s staring off into the corner, frowning hard.

“Remus? You okay, buddy?”

“Why can’t I remember the last time I saw Roman?”

Thomas frowns. That manages to get the attention of the others—somehow—and a hush falls over the room as they all think about it.

“Well, it can’t have been that long ago,” Patton says, “we saw him for movie night on the, um…when we watched the…”

”No, it was more recent than that,” Logan says, “he had come down to breakfast to make us those muffins.”

“Right, right, that’s right. When, uh, when was that?”

“Well, it was…”

Logan trails off into silence. Remus looks around at all of them. “Think about it: when was the last time any of us actually saw Roman? Can any of us actually remember?”

Thomas watches with muted horror as all of them slowly shake their heads.

“Fuck.”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton scolds, “anyway, I’m sure this is just a big misunderstanding.”

“That’s right,” Logan says, “after all, it’s hardly the first time Roman has been absent.”

“Yeah, but he normally tells someone where he’s going,” Virgil mutters, “especially if it’s gonna be for a while.”

“Okay, the last time I definitely saw Ro was three weeks ago when we fed Ollie.”

“He helped me put up new cat posters in my room. I think it was…it was before we did that full moon thing, so that was a month ago?”

“He—jeez, I think I passed him in the hallway at, like, stupid o’clock around a week ago, but I was…pretty out of it.”

“We had a brief meeting about the upcoming script last week. That’s the last time I remember seeing him for certain.”

“Don’t look at me,” Thomas protests when all eyes turn in his direction, “I don’t see him outside of these meetings and the last time we had one of those was like, two months ago.”

“Janny? What about you?”

Janus sighs, idly examining one of the seams on the tip of his finger. “I think you’re all being overdramatic.”

“Roman is missing, Janus,” Logan says with a bit of bite to his words, “I don’t think ‘overdramatic’ is an accurate description.”

“Yeah, especially since none of us can remember the last time we saw him.”

“Oh, please,” he sighs, “it’s Roman. Do you really think something so horrible could happen to him that he’d disappear and he wouldn’t tell anyone about it?”

A beat.

“…shit.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Roman.”

”Alright,” Virgil says, getting up, “Thomas, don’t respond yet. They’ll think you’re working or something. Remus, go check the Imagination.”

“On it!”

“Logan, go see if he’s in the library, J, check the Dark Side’s living room.” The two of them nod and sink out. “Pat?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna go to his room and see if he’s in there.”

“Okay.” Patton glances at Thomas. “Can you…can you feel anything?”

Thomas frowns, putting a hand on his chest. He moves it to the other side.

“Are you checking for your pulse or something?”

“No, normally when I think about Roman, like I’m gonna summon him or something, there’s this, like, warmth? It’s like something in my chest that just—it’s hard to explain.” He moves his hand back. “But I can’t…I can’t feel it right now.”

“Oh, that’s probably not good.”

”We should go.”

“Hey, if it ever feels like you can summon him again? Do it, then get the rest of us back.”

Thomas nods, watching as Virgil grabs Patton and they sink out. He sits slowly on the couch, staring into the middle distance as he keeps moving his hand around his chest. It’s strange; he normally doesn’t even have to put a hand to himself to feel where Roman is. He wasn’t lying before, it really is like this warmth that just lives in his chest, like a second heart almost, one that doesn’t really beat so much as just exist there. Like it’s reminding him that he’s, you know, a human with feelings and wants and desires and that’s okay.

Oh, Roman, buddy, where are you?

***

Remus steps into the Imagination and his knees almost buckle immediately.

Bluish-black storm clouds gather and bruise a dark grey sky overlooking a massive craggy cliff rising impossibly high. Vividly green grass and terribly purple flowers bloom deep inside the crevices of the rocks lining the path in front of him, the smell of fresh rain hanging so heavy that it seems it would fall any moment. In the distance he can see evergreens, smell them even though they must be miles away, and another mountain rising behind them with thin, wispy clouds stretching red fingers over its peak. The ground is warm under him, as though he were standing over an active volcano, but he can see and hear and smell the river that flows by just to the side of him, and the breeze that comes from it is cool and damp. His fingers twitch. So does his nose. He takes a deep, deep breath and takes a step forward.

With every step he takes, the more an uncertain feeling takes root at the base of his stomach. it’s too sweet to be panic, too frenzied to be melancholy, and too lonely to be wonder. He keeps walking. The Imagination is always impossibly vivid, impossibly beautiful, but something about this feels…different.

His chest feels tight.

As he moves past a larger collection of boulders, he rounds the corner as he spots a tree. A massive tree, one where the branches curl outwards and upwards like color diffusing into clear water. Some part of Remus—a part that sounds a lot like Logan, if he’s being honest—mutters how a tree like this couldn’t exist, not in these mountains, not with its roots in these rocks. And yet, here it grows all the same. He moves toward it, the tightness in his chest growing with every step.

At the base of the tree lies the hilt of a katana.

“R-Ro?” Remus collapses in front of the tree, shaking hands touching the trunk. The bark flakes away under his fingers and the smallest glimmers of gold shine up. “Roro…oh, Ro, what happened?”

“Remus? Remus!”

“Whoa, what the hell is this place?”

Remus can’t tear his eyes away from the tree long enough to see them but he can hear the others rush up behind him. He just paws weakly at the trunk and Logan’s muffled gasp is all he needs to hear before he starts sobbing.

“Oh, no,” Logan mumbles, “Roman’s…something’s happened to Roman. He’s—Remus, has he Faded? Or is this something else?”

“He’s been Forgotten,” Remus sobs, “the—the Imagination put him back where—where he wasn’t Roman anymore and he’s—he’s—“

Another sob leaves his throat.

“I want my brother back!”

“But we remember him,” Patton says, “we—we do, he’s Roman, we want him back, why—why is he here still?”

“I don’t think he knows we’re here,” Virgil says, glancing around, “I think he’s—I think he’s here sort of, but not in the Roman we know.”

“So what do we do? How do we get him back?”

Remus is still touching the tree. The clouds overhead start to rumble with distant thunder. He presses himself up against it, hugging it tightly.

“Come back, Ro-bro,” he mumbles into the bark, “came back, I want you to come back.”

“Logan? What do we do?”

“There has to be a reason he’s manifesting like this, doesn’t there?” Logan turns around, looking at the mountains, the sky, the river, the rocks, the tree. “Nature, the natural world, he’s become a tree so some kind of growth? Reincarnation? Transcendence?”

“Maybe it has more to do with Roman?” Janus’s against the bark near Remus’s head. “Creativity? Ego? Romance?”

“Romance…Romance…Romance, of course, Roman’s Romance!”

“What about this seems particularly romantic to you?”

“That’s it, it’s not romantic, it’s Romantic. The Romantic movement, the whole—oh, Roman,” Logan says softly, resting his hands on the trunk too, “I’m sorry that you didn’t feel like you could talk to us.”

“How in the hell are you getting all of that from Roman being a tree?”

”The Romantic period was in reaction to the balance and calm of the Classical. Heightened emotion, the irrational, the subjective, all of these became key themes. It was far more important to preserve the spirit and individuality of the artist rather than any sort of adherence to strict rules or traditional procedures.” Logan’s hand runs over the bark. “As well as a focus on the inner struggles of the exceptional figure.”

“And Princey’s the exceptional figure?”

”In a manner of speaking.” Logan presses his other hand to the tree too. “Roman? Are you here?”

A breeze ruffles through the leaves.

“Was that him?” Patton rushes forward and touches the tree. “Roman? Roman, kiddo, are you there?”

Another low boom of distant thunder and it starts to rain.

“Quick, everyone touch the tree.” Everyone puts their hands on it. ‘Roman? Roman, can you feel that? We’re all here, we’re all right here.”

The thunder grows louder. They wait there with bated breath as the tree rustles in the breeze, until Janus, who hadn’t clutched down with the rest of them, hears a crackle from up in the clouds.

“Get back!”

They all fling themselves away just as lightning strikes the tree, the very top of it catching fire as the trunk splits down the middle. Jagged bits of wood just into the open air like fractured ribs. And there, in the center of the splitting trunk—

—is Roman.

“Ro!” Remus howls and dives forward, wrenching his brother’s body out of the tree and dragging him to lie on the flat stone. “Ro, wake up, wake up, you have to be okay, you have to be!”

“…Re?”

Remus sobs again, throwing his arms around Roman who looks up at them with quiet confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“You left,” Janus spits, “you vanished and we didn’t know where you were so we had to come look for you.”

“J,” Virgil says lowly, before crouching down, “you went missing, Roman. We couldn’t find you. Why, uh, why were you in a tree?”

Roman frowns. “I don’t know. I…I was in my room, and you were forgetting me—“

“What do you mean, we were forgetting you?”

Roman blinks. “You were forgetting me. You were going to Remus. Remus is the Creativity that’s helping more. You weren’t thinking about me.”

“That’s not true,” Patton mumbles, horrified, even as Roman gestures around with a wordless if it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here, “we…we love you, Roman.”

Roman just shrugs. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘maybe?’” Janus splutters. “That’s not a thing you get to say maybe about, Roman.”

Roman doesn’t even flinch, just turns slightly so he can rest his head against Remus’s.

“You don’t even have anything to say for yourself?”

“Janus,” Logan says sharply, “that’s enough.”

”Roman disappears, he turns into a tree, he says we’re forgetting him and that we don’t love him, and we’re just supposed to accept it?” Janus throws his hands up. “How are you three so calm about this?”

“I’m not calm, but I’m not going to make this about me right now!”

“Janus,” Roman says softly and they instantly fall quiet, “you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I became a tree. I didn’t mean to imply you guys had forgotten me entirely. I shouldn’t have said you don’t love me.”

Janus’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He huffs a little awkwardly and folds his arms. “Well. Good.”

”Are…we done now?”

“What? No, Princey, we’re not done, we—“ Virgil runs a hand through his hair— “you turned into a tree. After you vanished. How the hell are we—what do we do now?”

Roman shrugs.

Remus, who has been lying on top of Roman for this whole thing, feels one of the hands under him begin to meld with the stone. He draws back, alarmed, only for Roman’s fingers to come free and lace with his. He squints at Roman’s face, noticing the barely-there tremble of his lip, and whips around to face the other three.

“You three. Fingers. Ears. Song. Now.”

‘What?”

“Do it!”

It takes them a second but they begrudgingly put their fingers in their ears and start mumbling things to avoid listening. Remus glares at them for a moment longer before turning back to Roman.

‘Hey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?”

Roman’s lip trembles again. “They’re still here,” he whispers back, “I just—I just want to hurt.”

‘What do you mean?”

“They’ll be mad at me for whatever’s going on, they’ll—I don’t want them to explain or tell me how what I’m doing is bad, or anything like that. I don’t want their—I don’t want their comfort,” Roman whispers, his voice getting thick, “I just want to be hurt by myself and have that be okay.”

“Of course that’s okay, Ro.”

“Because they did forget me. It’s not your fault or anything but they did and it hurts, Re—“

“I know, I know, shh, shh, hey, hey,” he says, “let’s do this: we need to go tell good old Thomathy that we found you, so let’s you and me go do that and then we can have our own cat pile wherever you want, okay? Just you and me. The others can you suck a tree branch.”

“Won’t they be mad?”

“Tell you what: you go to Thomas right now, I’ll deal with them, and then I’ll come after.”

“…I’m sorry I left again, Re.”

“Pshh. Water under the Kraken.”

***

Thomas shoots up from the couch as Roman rises up in his normal place.

“Roman! You’re okay!” He yes the scratches as bruises from the tree. ‘Well, mostly.”

Roman rubs the back of his head. “Yeah. I’m…sorry.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay, buddy. As long as you’re okay.”

Roman blinks. “Wait, really?”

‘Yeah, bud. You, uh…it looks like you’ve been through some stuff.”

“…that’s one way to put it.”

“Do you, uh talk about it?”

“Not really.”

‘Okay.”

“Wait, you’re sure?”

‘Yeah. It’s your business. I, uh, I’ll be here if you do want to?”

“Thanks, Thomas.”

“Of course, buddy. You’re great.” Thomas scratches the back of his head too. ‘I know we, uh, haven’t always been the best at saying stuff out loud to each other, that’s normally what the others do, but…you know I’d never replace you for anything, right?”

Roman smiles. He really, truly smiles. And for just a moment, the entire Mindscape fades away, leaving just the two of them standing in this one little room. A man and his Ego, smiling at each other.

The setting sun peeks in through the blinds and the room glows with a rich, bright red.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman angst #roman sanders #roman sanders angst #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit

[fandoms-bandoms-andmentalissues]

Alone? Not Anymore

Logan is belittled, ignored, and discarded by the light sides, but until Janus and Remus help him find a new side of himself he didn’t think there was anything he could do about it. They help him make a very difficult choice suddenly very easy.

#thomas sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts sides #janus sanders #ts roman #ts remus #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts patton #virgil sanders #ts virgil #the orange side #Logan is the orange side #unsympathetic patton #unsympathetic Roman #sympathetic remus #sympathetic deceit #intruloceit #referenced past Virgil x Janus x Remus #Remus x Janus x Logan

[whqreforstevengrant]

Sander Sides Highschool AU

i’m gonna link the post with all the info here, so just come back to this later in the day of August 29th. I just wanted to put this massive glowup in my art out there.

yes this is a redraw of my original AU.

#sander sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #emile picani #sleep sanders #analogical #roceit #intruality #highschool au #tw remus #tw deciet #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #my art

[iite-cool]

this could be a very niche post but i mourn dido. she was a refugee who built a civilisation from the ground up!! she was a queen!! she was everything aeneas needed to be!! when we first meet her, she's compared to diana. diana goddess of the moon, diana goddess of the hunt. dido was so radiant and loving and warm, even without venus' fatal meddling, she opened her arms to the trojans and welcomed them to her land.

dido of carthage was such a powerful woman, she was the epitome of a person - she was pious, she was strong and she was so, so beautiful. venus ruins her. venus is a real villain of the trojan war and it does not get talked about enough‼️ yes the whole helen thing but cmon!! dido!! venus ruined dido's life - this rational, calm-headed woman is rendered a helpless victim to Love and its follies.

she believes her and aeneas to be married and then he just turns around and walks out on her. (I don't blame aeneas, i actually really like him. he too was a victim of the gods' whimsies - "I seek Italy not of my own will.") but it ruins her. aeneas has up and left and with it venus' interest in dido wanes but the arrow of desire remains stuck in her very soul, staining sticky red love all over her life.

when i think about dido's death i honestly get so sad because the last cry for help to diana when the priestess is performing the death rituals is just fucking heartbreaking. it's a jarring reminder of how dido used to be before aeneas, before the gods sunk their claws into her life.

beautiful dido, who glowed like the moon, now lies dead and burnt to ash on a pile of clothes and carvings of a man who never even loved her.

#dido was a QUEEN #an almost deity in her own right #virgil's sympathetic portrayal of her is just so beautiful and heart wrenching #makes aeneas seem the antagonist in her story it's just genius #sorry this is so random but i honestly think about this constantly and just need to get it out there #I love you dido!! #aeneid ramble #vi.rambles #vi.random

[michelangelo-error]

Patton Sanders Sides' Head-canons

~

Patton loves whenever the other sides play with his hair! When Virgil is ever feeling a little antsy he would let him make small messy braids🥰

Add on to the first- After he would leave the braids in, wanting to cherish the master piece a bit longer

When patton puts an object down he tends to give it a gentle pat

One of Patton's love languages is touch, one day the other sides started noticing the small touches he does. Poke on a cheek, shoulder nudges, and fixing a wild hair strand

Whenever, Roman or Remus needed to practice their makeup skills they knew they could rely on Patton to be such a good sport. Even if it ended with some horrific creations especially from Remus😭 (But anything for those Kiddos)

During Janus' more stressed filled nights, Patton would drag him to the living (Luring him in with his favorite wine, making Hot chocolate for himself) then throwing on a Disney film.

#patton sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides headcanon #sympathetic dark sides #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Faeries In The Forest

Virgil promises Roman a day where they'll do whatever he wants, even if that means spending the day hiking in the forest.

When the pair stray from the path and find themselves lost, Virgil worries that it might be the end- that is until they meet a seemingly friendly fae who promises to lead them back to the path free of charge...

----

| AO3 | Second Part |

Warnings: Panic attacks, minor references to manipulation and enslavement but nothing actually happens.

Pairings: pre-established Prinxity, implied anaroceit (as a note nothing is actually said straight up, but these are the intended ships)

Word Count: 6971

Notes: I really want to write more of this so expect a part two at... some point I'm not very good at writing fast... considering I've written like four fics in this fandom now I'm wondering if I should start a masterlist... Anyways enjoy!

They were everywhere. That’s what Virgil had always been told, they lurked in the trees and in the water, they waited on street corners and outside stores. They walked dirt paths and cobbled streets, everywhere you look they could be waiting.

Be careful, they said, to not give your name to strangers no matter how trustworthy they may seem, no matter what they offer you in return. Names hold power. Don't eat their food or step into their circles either, because it's all an elaborate trap.

There were many things to remember about the fae, all of which Virgil had had drilled into his head from the moment he was born, from his parents, his teachers, the shopkeeper, even the barista in the coffee shop had gone on a tangent when he was fourteen, while he was making his coffee.

Of course, there was a reason for these stories, rumours and such, people going missing, Hell, a girl in his sixth grade class- Marie- had disappeared one day, and since then he had listened a little more carefully when the adults told their stories. He had grown up in a small town in the middle of nowhere right on the border of a thick forest from which people rarely came back, and often they came back changed.

To say the least, Virgil had been overjoyed to leave that town behind, having moved to the city to attend university. He shared an apartment with another student who he’d met right at the beginning of the semester- not exactly the scenario he had been hoping for, but he’d realised pretty fast that he didn’t have the money for rent, so having Roman move in with him was the only choice he had really.

Speaking of Roman, Virgil had been wary of him for a long while after they’d moved in together. Roman had been confused when Virgil refused to give Roman his name, and didn’t understand the charms Virgil had up around the house. Even now that he was away from his hometown, Virgil wasn’t about to be lulled into a false security just because it was a city. Eventually, though a lot of persistence from Roman, Virgil had opened up to him, told him his name, and luckily nothing had come of it. 

In a place like this, a busy city where you could see a hundred people in just one day, a regular person might forget about the possibility of the fair folk. There was no forest on your doorstep, just a park and trees planted on the pavement at equal intervals. If you asked, most people around here would say that there was no way that fae existed, people would say that they were just a scary bedtime story to keep children in line, or even if they were superstitious, they might say that they were safe here, further away from nature. But Virgil knew better. Fae were everywhere.

—-

“Hey Virge!” Roman yelled, running down the hallway towards him, waving a paper around dramatically, “I got it!”

“Princey,” Virgil nodded his head with a huff, turning and starting to walk and trusting Roman to catch up and start walking at his side, “You did?”

“Yes!” Roman cried, “Oh I’m so excited! I got the part I wanted!”

“Well done, can we go home now?” Virgil asked with a huff, he had been waiting out in the hall of the theatre- he’d promised to wait to support his friend- and he was starting to get paranoid. He didn’t like being out in public for so long, he couldn’t help it- and he was almost out of spoons for the day. 

“Oh come on hot topic! We should celebrate!” Roman grinned, though his smile fell when he saw Virgil’s face. 

“I’m sorry Princey,” Virgil said as they left the theatre, heading towards the bus stop, “I think I'm all out of spoons, but uh- I have a free day tomorrow… I know you do too, we could- I mean- eugh words,”

“Take your time,” Roman said as they sat down to wait for their bus, he took a moment to glare at the timetable, "We certainly have time to spare," 

“Just- Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it tomorrow, ok?” Virgil promised, “And hey, it’s your birthday next week, consider this a celebration for that too, so um, I’ll go along with whatever you want to do tomorrow,”

“For the whole day?” Roman asked, looking hopeful, Virgil understood at least a little, he usually didn’t like being out of the house longer than required for his lectures or his job, so of course Roman was interested, “Even… if it involves the forest?”

Virgil considered backing out then and there, but he'd promised, and he knew that Roman had wanted to go hiking in the woods an hour from town for years, though he'd never wanted to go alone. Virgil hated lthe idea of going into the forest, but… maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Roman, and they'd take precautions, it… should be ok.

"It's alright if not," Roman said, though he sounded slightly disheartened, "I know you hate the idea of going off on a forest adventure - I can choose something else-"

"No," Virgil interrupted, "No we- I said whatever you want, so the forest it is,"

"Yay!" Roman said, happily clapping his hands, "I'll make sure everything is perfect for you ok? We'll bring a picnic and- oh you make me a list of everything we can bring that'll help you feel safer and we'll bring that too- oh and-* 

"Princey," Virgil patted Roman on the arm, gently pulling him from his ramble, "We can get everything together once we get back home,"

"Right, right! You're right," Roman nodded, though he was obviously trying to contain his excitement- Virgil could see it in the way his leg bounced and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his thigh. He hoped he was making the right decision.

As they were waiting for the bus in comfortable silence, a stranger wearing a hat that shadowed their eyes joined them on the bus stop, immediately Virgil felt the wave of suspicion that always came from being near strangers. He tried not to look creepy as he glanced at the guy every now and then, turning one of his protection charms over and over in his pocket as they waited.

"There's the bus!" Roman announced way too loudly, making Virgil jump before he stood up. Sure enough their bus could be seen from down the road. 

The stranger didn't get on the bus after them, and Virgil tried to push them out of his mind as he and Roman spent the evening preparing for their trip tomorrow. 

—-

"Here we are!" Roman grinned as the forest finally came into view, they'd already been walking for half an hour since the last spot where the taxi was willing to drop them off, Virgil brought a hand to fiddle with the pendant around his neck as they approached the tree line.

"We're finally here! I'm so excited, aren't you excited V?" Roman said, with the level of energy that Virgil could only compare to one of those puppies that never stops going. 

"Woah, you're going to tire yourself out before we even reach the trees," Virgil huffed, walking with his hands out of his hoodie pockets for once, though he had a fidget cube in hand, one Roman had handed to him as they left this morning.

"Oh shove it Robert Downer Jr," Roman rolled his eyes, but did slow down a little.

"... alright," Virgil said with a deep breath, "Here we go, as long as we stick to the path… everything should be fine." 

..

They managed to stick to the path for all of twenty six minutes before- upon hearing the sound of a stream nearby, Roman had immediately veered off the path with a call to Virgil that he was going to find it and of course Virgil had gone after him. For some odd reason, he'd rather be lost and screwed over with Roman than alone on the path in the woods. 

When they'd turned back from the river to find the path again, it was as if they were in a completely different part of the woods, no path to be found. 

"I told you!" Virgil said pacing as he tried to stave off the impending panic attack the only way he knew how, by being angry, "I told you not to leave the path and what do you do! You leave the goddamn path! Now look at where that got us-" 

"V, I-" Roman started, only to be cut off by Virgil's rambling. 

"And now we're lost somewhere and I don't know how to get out and we're in the woods and- and- anything could happen and I can't believe I agreed to this! I should've said no! I knew this would go wrong I knew-" 

"V- I need you to breathe," Roman instructed, trying to keep his voice soft, he had taken hold of Virgil's wrists without his notice, "Just take a deep breath,"

Virgil did as instructed, before Roman led him over to their bags and handed him a biscuit. Virgil nibbled it gratefully.

"We still have the map and the compass," Roman said, "I've already checked my phone and there's no signal, but the compass will work, and hey, at least we have each other, right?" 

"Yeah- yeah you're right," Virgil said, taking a deep breath, "Sorry for snapping at you," 

"I get it," Roman waved him off, before unfolding the map, Virgil peered over his shoulder, "Well uh- here's the river but… it says the path should be right here…"

"Well, the river comes out of the forest here," Virgil pointed to the map, "so if we just keep following the river southeast we should reach the edge of the forest no matter where we are right now," 

“Ok, ok good, right,” Roman nodded, grabbing their compass, “I… I’m really glad you’re here, V,”

“Huh?”

“Yeah uh- I think I’d be screwed if this happened to me alone,” Roman said quietly, Virgil shrugged.

“Me too, so- we’ll call it even I guess,” Virgil smiled, “Which way?”

“The uh… the compass is going haywire…” Roman said, eyes going wide as he watched the compass needle spin uselessly round and round and round… 

“Perfect,” Virgil said sarcastically, “So we’re stuck with no clue which way to go?”

“Seems like it,” Roman shrugged. 

And not only that, but it was just about noon, so they couldn’t even use the sun. 

“So I guess we just…” Roman glanced around, “Well choices are to stay here or start walking, so… which should we do?”

“Well- ok- it’s 50/50, so… i guess we’ll start walking, I don’t want to be here when it gets dark,”

Roman visibly shivered, “Same, lets go, we can eat on the way,”

—

“Princey!” Virgil cried, grabbing the back of Roman’s jacket and yanking him back hard enough that he toppled over onto the grass, Roman fell on top of him.

“V! What the heck was that for?” Roman cried, Virgil took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before standing up and pointing at something in their path.

“Look, mushrooms,” Virgil said, leaning forward to see better, “It’s a faerie circle,”

“You pulled me over because of a couple of mushrooms?” Roman asked, standing up and dusting himself off. 

“It’s not just a couple of mushrooms, princey!” Virgil hissed, “If you step inside the faerie who owns the circle could trap you forever, idiot,”

“Oh jeez, well that doesn’t sound too great,” Roman huffed, “Thanks then, I guess,”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil huffed, looking at the circle thoughtfully, “How are we going to get around it?”

“Uh- we could just go around the edge?” Roman said, phrased as a question, “It’s a pretty big circle though,”

“Yeah… I don’t want to lose sight of the river…”

“That does sound bad,” Roman nodded, “And the river is pretty deep here too so we couldn’t walk through the water…”

“I don’t know if we could climb the tree and get over it- I’m not sure if it works like that…” 

“You could always just go through,” Said a new voice, making Virgil jump so much he crashed into Roman’s side, thankfully Roman was able to catch him so they didn’t fall again as they both turned to face the stranger. Virgil stared at them, eyes wide. 

The stranger wore a bowler hat, which made them look incredibly fancy. Their face was angular, all sharp like it had been chiselled from stone. They had pointed ears, chestnut brown hair that fell to their waist, held back and intertwined with delicate looking yellow flowers. His eyes were stunning, one a deep shifting turquoise that reminded Virgil of the ocean and the other a piercing yellow, with a slit pupil like the snake. Not even to mention the beautiful golden scales that covered half of his face, this stranger was very obviously fae, and if Virgil took a guess he’d say that the circle they stood next to belonged to this fae in particular. He had to elbow Roman to stop him from gawking after he’d managed to shake himself out of the same daze.

“Um, hello,” Virgil said, trying to seem less awkward than he felt, the faerie raised an eyebrow and smirked, “We’re just- passing through, we won’t be here for long if- uh- if we disturbed you or anything,”

“No bother, darling,�� The faerie said with a grin, Virgil noticed fangs, “Really, I’m only curious what two lovely mortals are doing so close to my ring, say, might I have your names?”

“I’m R-” Roman started, before Virgil turned and slapped a hand decidedly over his mouth.

“You can call me V,” Virgil said, “And you can call him Prince, excuse my abrupt actions, he can act an idiot sometimes,”

“You are a smart one, V,” The fae said, taking a step forwards, “You two can call me Deceit,”

Roman licked his hand and Virgil couldn't help but yell.

“Ew prince what the hell!” Virgil yelled, snatching his hand back and wiping it on his shirt, Deceit just raised an eyebrow, Virgil mentally thanked whatever deity was out there that the fae seemed amused rather than offended, “That’s gross, you’re gross,”

“You weren’t letting me speak,” Roman said with a pout, “Hi Deceit, Isn’t that a kinda ironic name?”

Virgil facepalmed.

“How so?” Deceit asked, both eyebrows raised now, Virgil thought he may as well just ask the guy to kill them now.

“Well… fae can’t lie, right? At least V says so, and your name’s Deceit- which is all about lying!” Roman said, pointing as if his statement was an accusation.

“There are many ways to deceive that don’t involve outright lies. darling,” Deceit smirked, stepping even closer, he was close enough to touch now and he did just that, reaching forwards and trailing a finger down the bridge of Roman’s nose, Virgil’s heart sank as Roman’s face went red.

“Now is not the time for this, your royal gayness,” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, as if you’re any better, sweetheart,” Deceit turned to him with a coy smirk playing on his lips, the fae’s fingers traced a path across his cheeks, and Virgil felt his cheeks heat up no matter how hard he tried to fight it, Deceit was… really pretty, and way too good at flirting.

“Look um- we just got lost, and we’re trying to figure our way out of the woods by following the river, if we could continue on our way…” Virgil said slowly, trying to pick out words that hopefully wouldn’t offend the faerie, that was the last thing he could possibly want from this. Deceit almost looked disappointed.

“Oh but I was having such fun,” Deceit sighed, “Won’t you two let me accompany you, at least? So you don’t have any run-ins with… less amicable fae? I can guarantee you safe passage through the forest, if you want it,”

“And what exactly would that cost us?” Virgil asked, “Not to sound suspicious but… nothing ever comes for free with the fae,”

“You’re smart to be cautious, little one,” Deceit whispered, walking around them and dragging a hand across Virgil’s shoulders- and then Roman’s as he went.

“I don’t know what you’re so suspicious about V, he seems very nice and he’s offering to lead us through the woods!” Roman smiled, leaning into where Deceit was now cupping his cheek with a delicate hand. Virgil quickly grabbed Roman’s hand and tugged it gently.

 “You know why, Princey, just because you’re gay and he’s cute doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy,” Virgil huffed. 

“Awe you think I’m cute,” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil huffed, “So how about your journey, then?”

“You never answered my question,” Virgil said, “What will it cost us?”

“You really think so low of me, my darlings? I’m sure your company will be payment enough,” 

“Yeah right so you’ll take us back to the city in exchange for what? Us keeping you company until we get there?” Virgil asked, “What’s the catch,”

“No catch, promise,” Deceit said, taking one of Virgil’s hands and one of Roman’s, smiling as he gently but insistently tugged them around the faerie circle. Virgil huffed, but let himself be gently pulled along. The fae had promised, which definitely meant something. But why would he promise there would be no catch? Weren’t fae supposed to be tricksters? Weren’t they supposed to make deals and promises and snatch mortals and such? Why was this faerie being so… generous, it didn’t make any sense. 

At least Roman was enjoying himself. He had decidedly kept hold of Deceit’s hand after he had let go of Virgil’s, and Roman was happily chatting away about theatre and art and whatever on earth he could find to talk about. Thankfully Deceit seemed interested in entertaining him, or at least the way he continued to hold his hand and bump against his side every so often made it seem so. Virgil was happy enough to trail along behind them, listening in to make sure Roman didn’t say anything too stupid.

Until apparently that wasn’t enough for Deceit.

“V, darling, why don’t you join us instead of trailing behind like a shadow, hm?” Deceit called, looking over his shoulder, “I’m sure you have some interesting stories to tell too.”

“Oh no, not really, I’m just your boring old emo who works at a coffee shop and otherwise never leaves his house,” Virgil shrugged, though he did jog forwards so he was just shadowing Deceit, rather than walking a few paces behind, he wasn’t going to argue with a faerie.

“Well that can’t be right,” Deceit shook his head firmly, “The way you dress seems to tell a story all on it’s own, surely you have something worth sharing,”

“No I… I really don’t,” Virgil said almost sadly, he shook his head, “Princey is much more interesting than I am, why don’t you um- why don’t you keep listening to his stories?”

Deceit stopped walking and Virgil did too, immediately worried he’d offended the faerie, but Deceit just cupped his face gently, leaning close enough that Virgil could feel warm breath fanning on his cheeks.

“You say you’re so uninteresting,” Deceit said softly, “But everyone has a story to tell, even if you believe you don’t… there’s always something,”

“I’m not sure anything I have to say would interest someone like you,” Virgil said quietly, looking away.

“Oh be quiet, V, he was interested in hearing me ramble about my musical theatre roles! No-one wants to hear me ramble about musical theatre!” Roman said, patting Virgil on the arm, “Talk about your music!”

“Music?” Deceit asked, full of curiosity, he turned to keep walking, but kept hold of one of Virgil’s hands this time, “Tell me,”

"Well I-" Virgil huffed, "I don't really like talking about it, but I produce music I guess, though I'm self published so it's not going so far at the moment…"

"You should hear some of the music he's made," Roman said with a grin, "It's amazing,'

"I would love to hear some of it, darling," Deceit smiled, linking their fingers more firmly together, Virgil blushed.

"Well um- I don't exactly have my guitar with me, so…" Virgil looked away.

"A shame, surely," Deceit sighed, "I'm certain you would have a lovely voice,"

"Like an angel," Roman said almost dreamily, "But like, a dark and stormy one,"

"Shut it, princey," Virgil muttered.

"No, no let him speak, I would like to hear you sing," Deceit said, brushing a hand through Virgil's hair. He jumped, because Deceit was still holding both Roman and Virgil's hands- he wasn't prepared for the faerie to have a third hand.

Virgil shook his head to clear his thoughts, embarrassed about the idea of Deceit hearing him sing, the Fae were known to have beautiful voices after all and he was sure he'd never compare, "I um- I'd rather not… if that's ok…"

"Later, then," Deceit said surely, as if there would definitely be a later.

"Aren't you leaving once we get back to the city?" Virgil asked, confused, because as far as he was concerned, they'd never see this faerie again after he left. 

"Did I say that?" Deceit said mock thoughtfully, "You may have to remind me, I seem to have forgotten," 

Virgil spluttered for a second before taking a breath and trying to string the correct words into the right order, "You promised no catches,' 

"I wouldn't say him accompanying us home is really a catch," Roman said with a smile and a shrug, well, at least Virgil knew he wouldn't be getting any help from his roommate any time soon. Deceit had him wrapped around his finger. 

"I'd just like to spend a little more time with you both," Deceit said, ruffling Virgil's hair, "You're both obscenely adorable, and very very interesting," 

—-

"Could we stop for a break? We've been walking for what feels like hours, " Roman practically whined, by the looks of the sky, they really had been walking for a long time, the first streaks of the pink sunset were beginning to light up the sky. Virgil groaned. 

"It's getting dark…" He said, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't want to show weakness in front of Deceit, but he also really didn't want to be trapped in the forest at night. 

"Maybe we should stop for the night? Set up some kind of camp?" Roman asked awkwardly, they hadn't brought any camping equipment with them, and all they had for a blanket was the picnic rug they'd packed. 

"You needn't be worried," Deceit told them, coming to a stop in a small clearing, "You should be safe from anything else roaming the forest with me here," 

"...right?" Virgil nodded, not trusting the uncertainty that the 'should' left them with, "So do we stop or keep going?" 

"It would be unwise to travel at night," Deceit told them, "We will stop," 

Virgil nodded, hunching his shoulders and glancing around at the trees, they suddenly looked a lot more sinister, As Roman and Deceit started to bustle around the clearing, Roman looking to see what they had left over from lunch- thank goodness Virgil had asked to bring some extra food- and Deceit using some sort of magic to make the clearing nicer. As time passed Virgil didn't move, he simply became more and more uneasy.

"Hey V?" Roman called from across the clearing, Virgil's head snapped up with a short breath, his eyes darted around again, when had it gotten so dark? And who had built the campfire? Why was it so cold…? "Are you ok there buddy?" 

Virgil tried to breathe, but he looked around at the trees again and another wave of panic hit him, it was getting so dark now, it would be easy for something to reach out from the shadows and grab him, drag him off with a hand over his mouth so that he couldn't scream, they probably wouldn't even notice.

"I'm gonna hug you, ok?" Roman asked, a lot closer now, Virgil nodded and felt Roman's arms wrap themselves around him, he buried his nose in Roman's shoulder, drawing comfort from the only familiar thing around. He and Roman had done this so many times before, Roman hugging him while he panicked, it helped, it really did. But here, Virgil still felt vulnerable, with the forest at his back.

“What’s going on here?” Virgil heard Deceit’s voice from somewhere to their right, Virgil shifted, worried, but his tone sounded concerned, rather than accusatory. 

“V is panicking,” Roman said, squeezing Virgil a little tighter when he tensed slightly, “He doesn’t like forests, or the dark, all that much,”

“I see, does this-” Virgil could assume he gestured to them in the pause, “-Help?”

“Usually yeah, V?” Roman asked, Virgil just shook his head into Roman’s shoulder, “Not this time though, somethings still stressing him out…”

Deceit hummed thoughtfully, before speaking softer than Virgil had heard all afternoon, “May I hold you as well?”

Virgil hesitated, but slowly nodded. After a moment, he felt a presence at his back that made him flinch, something was coming for him- he knew it!

“It’s alright sweetheart,” Oh, it was Deceit, Virgil suddenly felt really stupid, “You’re safe, we’ve got you,”

Another pair of arms wrapped around him, this time from behind, he felt Deceit’s nose nestle in his hair, Virgil repressed a shiver, he felt Deceit smile. 

“Any better?” Roman asked, chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

“A little,” Virgil whispered, tightening his arms around Roman, Deceit hummed, and another pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle.

“That's good,” Deceit practically purred, nuzzling his hair, Virgil sighed, leaning more heavily on Roman.

“Woah,” Roman huffed at the added weight, “I might be strong, but I can’t hold up both of you,”

“It may be best if we sit down, that is if you want to continue in this way,” Deceit said, pressing a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head, this time he did shiver. 

“Well I- I guess it is cold out, so- that might not be so bad…” Virgil muttered.

“Admit it, Hot Topic, you’re just as gay as I am,” Roman said with a grin, Deceit chuckled. 

“Come, let us sit by the fire,” Deceit said, drawing away just to take Virgil’s hand, gently pulling him, and thus Roman, towards the fire pit that had been set up, he lead them to a surprisingly comfortable bed of moss that Virgil was certain hadn’t been there when they arrived at the clearing. When had that gotten there?

“It’s so cold,” Virgil muttered, pulling his hoodie jacket closer around himself, scuffing his foot and hesitating to sit down, “We should light the fire…”

“How do you light a fire?” Roman asked, glancing around, “I’ve never been camping before,”

“I didn’t pack a lighter or matches or anything,” Virgil said sadly, scuffing his foot, turning back to the fire only to find it lit and burning away happily, Virgil glanced at Deceit, who just smirked at him.

“I’m summer,” Deceit said. By way of explanation, Roman looked confused, but ultimately shrugged and sat down on the moss.

“That would explain why you’re so warm,” Virgil said quietly, sitting down as well, Deceit grinned.

“If I’m so warm, and you’re cold, why aren’t you over here?” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil sighed, pulling his knees to his chest.

“You’re deceitful charming tricks won’t work on me,” Virgil muttered, looking away.

“I’m not trying to trick you, sweetheart,” Deceit said softly.

“He has trust issues,” Roman stage whispered, Virgil glared past Deceit at him, before shuffling a little closer to the fire and staring into its centre, the crackling sticks, Roman wasn’t going to stop spilling his secrets to the faerie, so he may as well not bother. Roman had never been good at keeping secrets, so really it had only been a matter of time. 

“He was kinda like this when we first met too,” Roman explained with wide gestures, “He wouldn’t tell me his name for the first three months we were living together, even though I did everything he asked to prove I wasn’t a faerie the first week we met, so um, I can imagine he’d have more issues with you- because- you are- you know,”

“An actual faerie, yes,” Deceit nodded, “i am aware,”

“Sorry,” Roman said with a cringe, “V’s just… I’m not sure why but he struggles to open up to people,”

“It is understandable,” Deceit said, before gesturing to himself, “Considering,”

“What’s so wrong with fae anyway? You’ve been really nice to us this whole time,” Roman asked, shuffling a little closer to Deceit and looking at him as if to ask if it was alright, Deceit smiled softly at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I am not your average faerie,” Deceit hummed, trailing a pattern across Roman’s shoulder with his gloved fingers, Virgil watched the movement from the corner of his eyes, covered by his hair, “V is right to be wary of us, most would have tried harder to take your names or lure you into their circles, or make a deal and trick you, there are many things I could have done that I didn't, that many others would have," 

"So why didn't you?" Virgil asked bitterly, "What's so different about you?" 

“I… don’t really know,” Deceit shrugged, “I suppose I was simply… intrigued by you both, and it does ring true that I have been lacking in adequate company as of late so… it seems that perhaps fate brought the two of you to my circle, I wasn’t about to waste that, now was I?”

Virgil huffed, he wasn’t sure what to do with that answer, he shivered again, even with the warmth of the fire close by, the forest was still all around him, no shelter, no safety, no security…

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep,” Virgil said instead of answering.

“Are you not tired?” Deceit asked, “You look exhausted,”

“Thanks,” Virgil glared, “I’m too anxious to sleep, my brain won’t let me switch off, I’m too jumpy, too vigilant, do you need more reasons?”

“I didn’t think humans were supposed to be this afraid all the time,” Deceit said quietly, Roman shifted.

“They’re not,” He said almost sadly, Virgil curled further into himself.

“I get it, ok,” Virgil snapped, surprising even himself, his anger was more directed at Roman than Deceit, of course, Roman was the only one who was talking about it really, “I know it’s weird that I do my courses online because I hate leaving the house, I know it’s weird that I refuse to wear a nametag at work, I know it’s weird that I barely talk when we’re around other people, I know I don’t like to talk about myself or start conversations, I get that it’s not normal, I know being so anxious about everything isn’t normal just- leave me alone,”

Virgil turned around so his back was facing them, he wasn’t about to cry- he wasn’t. Where the hell had that outburst come from? 

To be honest, he knew it really had been a long time coming. Roman tried so hard to make sure he was comfortable, but he never really understood, he didn’t get why Virgil wouldn’t want to go to the campus or meet his friends, he often put pressure on Virgil to come and watch his shows or go to some party- he didn’t understand and he never would, because Virgil was different. At least in the little town he grew up in his superstition wasn’t questioned, now, living in the city, it seemed like everything about him was out of place.

“Would it make you more comfortable,” Virgil choked on a sharp breath as he heard Deceit’s voice right next to his ear, he didn’t lift his head from his knees- he wouldn’t let the faerie see him crying, Roman was one thing, Deceit was a whole other, “If we continued travelling through the night? We’re close enough now that we’d reach the border in just a few hours,”

“You- you said it was more dangerous,” Virgil forced out, “Don’t- don’t want to put Princey in danger…”

“Hm,” Deceit said, the grass crunched next to him and a warm hand was pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, despite the spike of fear he first felt, he found the hand rather comforting, grounding, “I possess the means to protect you both from anything we might come across,”

“I-” Virgil said, before trying to take a deep breath- it stuttered on the way in, “We need to- to rest…”

“So you’d be more comfortable staying here?” Deceit asked.

“Think so…” Virgil nodded, “We have- we have light here,”

“Alright then, we’ll stay,” Deceit nodded, “Would it help settle your nerves if I kept watch while you and your prince attempted to sleep?”

Despite the situation, Virgil found himself blushing furiously, “He’s not- he’s not my prince! He- I- We-”

“No need to get so flustered, darling, I’m only teasing,” Deceit said, smirk carrying through his voice, “My question?”

“You’re- oh, uh… not really,” Virgil admitted quietly, “I still don’t trust you not to stab me while we sleep,”

“Hm, I plan to keep watch regardless, so, in that case, would you like to join me in watching over your… friend?” 

“Yeah I- I guess that works,” Virgil nodded, finally lifting his head up and hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks, Deceit didn’t comment and Virgil was… really glad about that.

Roman fell asleep with his head in Deceit’s lap, with the faerie running fingers through his hair not even ten minutes later. Virgil still sat a little ways away, knees still tucked to his chest, but he was looking out into the forest now, making sure nothing was going to come for them. 

“Is he always this- touchy?” Deceit asked, voice quiet even though it sounded loud in the surrounding silence.

“I’m glad to have a break,” Virgil answered with a huff, Deceit raised an eyebrow, “Yes, he’s always like that,”

“And you?” Deceit asked.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Deceit nodded, looking over at Virgil, his scales glinted in the light of the fire, and Virgil was captivated for a moment, “How do you feel about touch?”

“I uh- well I guess I’m more reserved than Princey, uh- I don’t really like being touched by people I don’t trust, especially strangers,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“But you allowed me to help when you were overwhelmed earlier,” Deceit pointed out, “And didn’t seem bothered by my touch otherwise, yet you continue to say that you don’t trust me?”

Virgil realised he’d been backed into a corner, albeit what seemed to be a padded fluffy one by someone who really didn’t seem to want to hurt him. 

“I just-” Virgil said, before sighing, “I don’t trust anyone, really,”

“I will not harm you,” Deceit said, meeting his eyes, “And I will do my best not to let anything else do so either,”

“That… helps, a little,” Virgil whispered, “Fae can’t lie,”

“Does knowing that help?” Deceit asked, twisting Roman’s hair into a braid as he spoke, almost as though he didn’t realise he was doing it.

“Yeah,” Virgil nodded, “When you say definite statements like that, at least.”

“I shall aspire to do so more, then,” Deceit smiled at him and goddamn it Virgil was so gay- so gay, “Would you like to come over here? I swear not to hurt you.”

Virgil hesitated, but eventually gave in- he really wanted to hug the faerie, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He shuffled closer and Deceit wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Virgil sighed happily and dropped his head onto Deceit’s shoulder- he was so warm- he felt the faerie chuckle more than heard it. 

“How many hands do you have,” Virgil questioned quietly as a third hand brushed through his hair in a way that was so comforting. 

“Six,” Deceit said with a quiet laugh, “i’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner,”

“Didn’t wanna offend,” Virgil murmured as the hand around his shoulders squeezed him a little tighter, he felt another hand around his waist, settling on his hip.

Deceit hummed, “Just relax little one, I’ll keep you safe.”

Despite his previous hesitations, Virgil found it easier to relax now, he was surprised to find that he really did feel safe. After barely any time at all, he fell asleep.

—-

Virgil awoke with a yelp to the sound of a bird cawing way too close by to be a pigeon outside of his window. He heard a sharp hiss before the bird screeched and seemingly flew away. 

“What the fuck,” Virgil muttered, blinking his eyes open only to find he was looking at the morning sky, the sunrise making the clouds pink and basking just the tops of the trees in a warm light. The events of yesterday came back to him in an instant and Virgil groaned, flopping back onto the cool grass, he was going to miss his lecture this morning.

“Stupid creature,” A voice hissed from somewhere to his right, literally, it sounded almost like a snake- if a snake could talk, he heard the bird caw again, further away this time “You woke him up, you fiend, yes get out of here, I don’t want to see you again until you think about what you’ve done,”

“Shut up,” Virgil slurred rolling over, “Wanna go back to sleep,”

“I brought you breakfast,” The voice- Virgil placed it as Deceit’s, it certainly wasn’t Roman’s, “If you want it,”

“Not eating faery food,” Virgil said tiredly.

“Told you,” Roman said from somewhere across the clearing, “He won’t eat it,”

“V, you’re going to be walking for a few hours and you havent eaten anything substantial since before you arrived at my circle yesterday,” Deceit reasoned, “This food was gathered from the forest, it does not share the properties of food from faerie,”

Virgil groaned and pushed himself up, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes to try and wake himself up a little, he’d have to go without coffee today, “What have you got?”

“Berries, mainly,” Deceit answered, “And a few apples,”

“Gimme the apples,” Virgil said, holding out a hand, an apple was tossed to him and he inspected it carefully before taking a bite. Thankfully it was a good apple, he really was hungry. Roman spluttered.

“Woah ok so what did I miss, what happened while I was asleep?” Roman asked, sounding astounded, “Cursed? A spell? Bribery?”

“I have done nothing to V,” Deceit answered, “I assure you, nothing bad has happened without your knowledge,”

“Yeah Princey, nothing happened,” Virgil said, standing up and brushing himself off as he took another bite out of the apple, “So uh- which way do we need to head?” 

“Southeast,” Deceit said, when they both stared at him confused, he pointed off into the forest, “That way,”

“Excellent!” Roman grinned, before starting off in that direction with all the bravado of a real life fantasy prince who’d had four doses of coffee. Virgil sighed, stretching with a yawn.

“Is he always that enthusiastic in the mornings?” Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow as Virgil stood up, he shrugged with a tired grunt.

“Somehow,” Virgil nodded, before trailing off after Roman, pulling up his hood and hunching his shoulders as he marched off after his more normal companion, somehow Deceit managed to catch up to walk between them. Well, at least he knew that the faerie was still coming with them.

—-

It really did only take a few hours of walking before the trio arrived at the edge of the forest, right at the point Virgil and Roman had entered around the same time just the day before.

As they approached the treeline, Deceit stopped, looking back at the forest, Roman caught on quickly, since he had been holding Deceit’s hand again, it took Virgil a second later to notice, when he almost crashed into Roman.

“What’s going on?” Virgil asked, eyes darting around, suddenly more aware than he had been previously, “Is something wrong?”

“You’re fine, darling,” Deceit reassured, “Nothing is necessarily going on,”

“Well that was a statement,” Virgil said, looking at Deceit with an eyebrow raised, he looked much more awkward than he had at any point before, “What happened to being direct?”

“Well, we’ve arrived at the edge of the forest,” Deceit said. Instead of answering him, Roman and Virgil shared a glance, he was redirecting, “I trust that you can both get wherever you’re going from here?”

“...Yes we can,” Roman nodded, shifting from foot to foot, “But… I was under the impression that you were coming as well?”

“Princey, call us a taxi so we don’t have to wait forever,” Virgil commanded, Roman pulled out his phone, looking at the screen for a moment before gasping.

“Oh my goodness!” Roman cried, “Sweet sweet phone signal! Oh instagram I missed you so much-"

“Princey, focus,” 

“Oh right,” Roman nodded, pulling up something on his phone.

“We’re still gonna have to walk a while to get to the point where the uber can pick us up,” Virgil said, turning to Deceit and holding out his hand, “So, are you coming?”

“I am not particularly aware of the route from here,” Deceit told him, eyeing his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Princey and I have that covered,” Virgil said with a half smile.

“Alright then,” Deceit said, taking Virgil’s hand, “Lead the way, darling,”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #ts janus #janus sanders #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #prinxiety #Anaroceit #roceit #anxceit #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides ships #rowans writings

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt5)

Long time, no see. :) If you’ve forgotten what’s going on, you can find the previous chapter [here!] Or if you’re new to this, find the start [here!]

Summary: Office coworkers Logan and Remus have created the rumor that they are married and have a son, except that Logan kinda yelled that he didn’t have a son in front of a bunch of people.

Virgil is well....Virgil is going to change that. And he definitely has the blackmail to do it.

Word Count: 8346

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Okay. So. It wasn’t like when Logan and Remus showed up at the restaurant, Virgil expected Logan to want to adopt him. For one thing, Virgil had parents. For another, Logan had never once shown even a remote interest in having a hand in the responsibility of keeping another, living, breathing being alive.

Virgil knew that. He prompted Logan once about it-- because Virgil at his core was a fucking masochist who needed to have his heart ripped out and stomped on sometimes just to prove he knew what life was like. There had been some stupid math homework that he had guilted Logan into helping him with during Logan’s lunch break (like the man wanted to be doing calculus while out eating-- he was a fucking accountant; he already did this all day for his job), and the problem had involved dogs, so Virgil had made up some stupid idiotic story about once owning a dog just to see if maybe Logan might have like a hundred dogs at home and oh yeah, what difference is a child compared to that, right? At least, you know how to feed yourself and can be trusted outside without a leash, sure I’ll take you in, Virgil! Do you want to call me Dad?

Yeah. And somehow Virgil was still failing his creative writing class-- he didn’t understand it either.

Logan didn’t have dogs at home. Or cats. Virgil was pretty sure he didn’t even have dust bunnies. 

And Virgil of all people knew what type of burden children could be. You had to give them time and money and entertainment and if you didn’t then everyone would call you a terrible person! Once you had a kid, you really never had time to yourself to do things you liked to do because a kid was always in the way! How many times had Virgil’s mother reminded him that he was preventing her from enjoying her weekend after she spent all week working her tireless jobs and making him food and keeping the house? How many times had his father answered the door and started swearing because he forgot it was his week and he invited his girlfriend over and she didn’t know Virgil existed so Virgil was either going to spend the whole night in his room pretending to be a piece of furniture or his dad was going to have to cancel? 

Virgil was a commitment! He knew it! He was another mouth to feed, his growth spurts just kept happening--he’ll never forget the fury on his mother’s face when she found out he outgrew the shoes she got him for Christmas by late January-- not to mention school fees. School lunch? More like School sit-in-the-library-and-tell-the-librarians-he’s-just-not-hungry. His personal finance class was his own living nightmare because he got to listen to every other kid in the entire class complain about how dumb it is that everything cost money, like bread hadn't always cost at least three dollars. There was a girl named Sally who told the teacher that she’d just show her boobs to the checkout clerk to get it for free so that she could keep up with her fictional mani pedi appointment, after the teacher told her she couldn’t just call her dad and ask for more money.

Virgil scored a perfect A on that assignment, if anyone was wondering. The teacher pulled him back after class to ask him if he was interested in going to a seminar outside of class time for the Next Business Owners of America(™) since he was meticulous with his number crunching. Virgil would have loved to, if it hadn’t been three hours away, pay-for-your-own-food, and hey, how about you bring your parents along? I’d love to meet them and let them know what a great son they’re raising! 

Virgil had said he wasn’t interested. His teacher had insisted he’d take a flyer anyway, and now it was stuffed in the bottom of his backpack like a forty ton weight he was lugging around everywhere just to see if it really did get heavier as the day in question approached. 

((There was still a week left for reservations. There was still a week left for reservations and Virgil was still very certain that if he did go and he didn’t tell his parents, neither of them would notice he’d gone missing and they would never remember him again and then where would he be?))

So yeah, Virgil was a commitment. Any child was a commitment. Basically a blackhole of money. Any self respecting, successful adult could probably take one look at him and think setting a couple hundred dollar bills on fire is less expensive and more eco friendly than trying to take in a teenager. 

Logan probably had thought that, too. Virgil wouldn’t blame him for that. 

He just… expected it to hurt a little less. But well. Logan had always been straightforward and it doesn’t get more straightforward than “HE IS NOT AND WON'T EVER BE OUR CHILD”.

Virgil liked that Logan was straightforward. He didn’t have to guess through passive aggressive comments or backhanded compliments to figure out what was being said when Logan was talking.

And really it hadn’t even been anything new being said there. Virgil got to stand there and not cry and very calmly ask Logan and Remus to step outside because they were upsetting the other patrons. Yep totally. Just the other patrons. Not Virgil because Virgil had never been their kid and he had his own parents and there were other kids with less who needed more and he hadn’t been going to mention the flyer or seminar to Logan so it didn’t even feel like the kick to the teeth that it should have been.

But if Virgil’s manager was going to give him a paid break to go stand outside and with a free soda and some mango sticky rice the man made him specifically, then Virgil was going to take it and enjoy it and definitely not cry or text Janus about. In fact he took it and he sat out back and wondered how on earth Remus landed a guy like Logan. 

Because Logan was cool. He was smart, pleasant and polite and patient and other words that started with “P”. Virgil had seen Remus a handful of times-- just the few that he’d been desperate enough to get out of his mother’s house but didn’t have money for food-- but those times had been enough for Virgil to get a very super good fucking grasp on who Remus Prince was.

He was loud to Logan’s calm, eye-catching to Logan’s plainness, obnoxious to Logan’s civility. Even when Virgil had watched them walk in together, hands together, ring present it felt like someone grabbed the rug from under him and tugged.

Because-- and Virgil meant this from the bottom of his heart-- Remus was a fucking nightmare demon from hell. There were a lot of people who scared Virgil to no end, but Remus? Remus was on a whole other level. 

 Remus was The Adult(™) that Virgil avoided like the plague, that Virgil memorized the schedule for when he would be at the food kitchen for, that Virgil laid awake at night running scenarios about because Remus would be the only stupid asshole brave enough to blatantly ask The Question. 

Because Remus remembered Virgil’s face, remembered what he looked like, what he wore, and where he liked to sit away from everyone else. Remus remembered Virgil like he wanted to when not even Virgil’s parents wanted to remember him. 

Because there wasn’t a shadow dark enough for Virgil to hide in that would keep Remus from seeing him, and Virgil didn’t know a single thing that could keep him from asking hey, is everything okay at home?

No it’s not. Thanks for asking. And hey, I know you’re a mandatory reporter, so pretty please don’t call social services because Virgil cannot think of anything worse than being picked up out of everything he’d struggled to build here and plopped into the hands of someone who would insist they knew how to live his life better. 

He didn’t want a family that would see him as just another meal ticket: free money from the government to take in the kid who was too anxious to sleep at night sometimes. Even thinking about the bad families-- the die hard religious people who would call him a sin if they knew he was gay, the abusers that might see him as a free punching back that spit out money sometimes, the too-nice,-but too-many-other-kids-to-worry-about-him couple that might only take him in out of guilt and pity-- made Virgil’s heart beat so hard he could barely breathe.

But what was worse was thinking about the good families. You know, the ones that most of the kids at school went home to? A mother who would insist that he wear brighter colors and eat all his vegetables and join every after school program because it looked good on a resume? A father who would insist that he apply to Harvard and Yale and take summer internships across the country or do hard labor outside because it built character? The ones who would say to him hey, you don’t need that job anymore so just go ahead and quit and we’ll supply everything you could possibly want and you better hope you don’t disappoint us like your first set of parents because then we’ll have the power to take it all away!

Logan… Logan was a safe daydream, okay? He was just a quiet guy who came in for Thai sometimes and ate by himself, tipped nicely, and didn’t try to send his food back because it was “too orange”. He was reasonable and knew when to stop asking questions and he probably wouldn’t care if Virgil kept his job and or if he kept wearing black and didn’t try to apply to schools that would probably eat him alive. Logan smiled at him, and helped with Virgil’s homework, and maybe if Logan hadn’t wanted to be the center of Virgil’s very pitiful stupid, secret wishes, he shouldn’t have been the first person to tell Virgil “good job” since Virgil had been eight. 

“Fuck,” Virgil said, shoving another spoonful of mango rice into his mouth.

“Oh, please, do keep catastrophizing in my front seat,” Janus said in his stupid ass rich person tone. “I’m certain that will solve all your problems.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil snapped back at him.

Janus stretched back in the driver's seat, hands above his head, folded neatly with those black biker gloves on still, and his shirt riding up his stomach in the way that makes Virgil kinda hate him. He had his eyes closed for the most part of it all; still content to sunbathe in the front seat as he had been doing for the better part of an hour now, but he opened the right just to side eye Virgil in that unbothered way of his that speaks to how amusing he found watching Virgil self destruct to be.

“Darling--” He said.

“Don’t,” Virgil jabbed his plastic spoon towards him threateningly. “Don’t start with me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Janus said. “Only merely ending what has been a truly delightful date with my very wonderful boyfriend who is certainly not-at-all distracted by a problem he has made up in his beautiful amazing brain.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ve known Logan since I was in diapers, Virgil,” Janus says. “He’s almost like a second father to me. You are worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Virgil said shrilly.

And that is when Janus finally dropped his arms back down and twisted to face Virgil completely. His eyes, which normally were filled with mischief and spite, were floating with a sincerity that made Virgil’s stomach do flips. The freckles on his face were just barely noticeable, the shine of his lipgloss still freshly applied and waiting to be ruined. His dark hair was highlighted with gold stripes, which Virgil knew from experience looked very dashing when hands were run though it.

“Virgil,” Janus said, soft and kind and knowing. “My own father wouldn’t hesitate if you asked him. And you know that there would be a room in my house painted purple with your own kitchen and fridge by three hours after you asked him.”

“Your father plays mind games,” Virgil said weakly.

“Are you still obsessed with the swear jar?” 

“I’m not obsessed!” Virgil shot back. “It freaks me out, okay? The whole swear jar being a place that you both put money so that you have funds to pay for something if you didn’t want him knowing you were paying for? That’s like John Kramer levels of jigsaw puzzles. I can’t handle that on a daily basis! My heart would just fucking stop!”

“My father does not have any intentions of testing your will to live,” Janus said flatly. “Or whatever it is that happens in the Saw movies. He runs a company that’s sole goal is to make lives easier and more affordable. When he turns fifty he plans on giving the whole company to me, and then I will wait exactly one week before selling half the shares to you for a dollar and then you can handle all the gross business stuff and I will handle the very funny human complaints.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually,” Janus said. “He has it written in his main diary that’s stashed behind the headboard that he’s going to give it to me when he’s sixty, but the secret one he doesn’t think I’ve found yet that is stashed in the false wall behind the washer says fifty. Also the second secret one in the false bottom puzzle box drawer in his office says fifty too.”

Virgil stared at him, waiting a whole beat, but Janus merely raised an eyebrow.

“You understand that’s not normal shit, right?” Virgil asked him. “You understand that your father and you are the most insane people I’ve met, right? Why does he have three diaries? Why are two of them secret? Why do you know there are two secret ones?” 

Janus frowned. “There’s three, but the third one is just all about how much he loves me and his billions of lists of things to get for me for my birthday every year. Sometimes I add ridiculous stuff to the list in his handwriting to see if he’ll get me it. That’s how I got my snake.”

“Unbelievable,” Virgil said, staring at him. Part of him was utterly terrified of Janus, of how casually he could say things like that, of how Virgil is pretty sure Janus had the means and the ability to hide his body if Janus decided one day Virgil was annoying him too much, but the larger part of him is just overwhelmed with an embarrassing amount of awe and love. 

Something about that must have shown on his face because Janus’s eyes melted like ice cream and his lips curled into a smile that could have coaxed flowers to bloom if their car was parked in a meadow instead of a parking garage. 

“I love you too,” Janus said. “Now will you please go into the building and blackmail Logan into being your pretend dad so I can have all my boyfriend’s attention during our dates?”

“Asshole,” Virgil said, leaning over the center console to catch him in a kiss.

Janus hummed enthusiastically, as if he’d been waiting for Virgil to do that all day. Virgil did his best to not roll his eyes.

Janus pulled back first, licking his lips as if to make sure the last of his cherry lip gloss had been cleaned up so that he could apply another coat once Virgil was out of his sight, and finding it satisfactory. “I’m going to eat the rest of your mango rice.”

Virgil handed him the little container, half eaten and not enjoyed quite as much as it should have been due to impending doom. Janus, who was rich enough to have his own plastic spoon, still used Virgil’s. Virgil grabbed the handle of the plastic bag for the other two carry out containers and pulled it into his lap.

“I’m going to get arrested.”

Janus waved a hand. “Get out of my car, Virgil. You can mope when you get back.”

“Pay my bail?”

Janus smiled at him, soft and sunny and causing all the sickening, disgusting butterflies in his stomach to flutter around. Virgil wasn’t sure why, considering he’d also watched Janus eat pavement at the skateboarding park once late at night, and then cry like a baby about it, and then demand that Virgil tell no one about it.

“Always,” Janus said, like he meant it, like he was making a promise, like he loved Virgil and wanted what was best for him even when Virgil didn’t have a single thing to give him in return.

He didn’t realize that he had a stupid smile on his face until he was ten feet from the car holding the bag of take out to his chest like some middle schooler who just got asked out by her crush. He swears at nothing, because of course Janus could draw this sort of reaction out of him over fucking bail money, what the hell. There was nothing romantic about bail money. There wasn’t anything romantic about Janus.

The same way there wasn’t anything nerve wracking about Patton Hart, or terrifying about Remus Prince, or fatherly about Logan Ackroyd.

He nearly tripped and face planted trying to walk into the lobby. His shoe caught on the tile floor and his balance went sideways and his heart jumped out of his throat into his mouth and nearly onto the floor with the mango rice he had just eaten.

There were about ten people wondering in the lobby, doing various tasks: three people in business suits discussing lunch plans, a janitor mopping up an area with cautious signs around it, two people waiting for one of the three elevators, two people at the front desk and a receptionist who was talking to a delivery man from a pizza place across town. And Virgil was pretty sure all of them saw him almost lay himself out on the floor.

It was fine. It was totally fine! If they asked what was wrong with him he would say something like Oh I haven’t possessed a human in at least a century or You guys didn’t see that rat? It was huge! or my plan was to lie my way up to the upper floors but I figured that I might as well give up and let you arrest me now. Do you want to call security or just hand me the phone and I’ll do it myself?

He hesitated on his feet for a moment, wondering if he could get away with going straight into the elevators even though he knows they require a keycard. Janus told him that much in their run throughs while preparing for this. But still the fluttering hopeful part of him was wishing that security risks weren’t a thing and he could just… walk upstairs.

Instead he steeled himself and headed in a direct line towards the receptionist’s desk. All he had to do was convince her to give him a visitor’s badge and let him go upstairs without calling either Logan or Remus who would definitely tell her they don’t have a son.

He was honestly already so lucky they hadn’t announced to the whole building via company-wide email that they didn’t have a child at all. Although the longer he hesitated the more of a chance there was that one or both of them were writing that email right now.

The receptionist nodded to him when he stalled his walk a few paces away from the desk, but continued her discussion with the delivery man. Instead the man and the woman lingering to the side had their eyes on him, watching with opening curious expressions that made Virgil want to hiss at them the way he hissed at the workers in the food bank-kitchen that he visited on weeks when his mother couldn’t be bothered to keep food in the house or his father had forgotten to leave him enough money to buy himself a pizza while he went out on another date.

You know. Before Remus had hissed right back at him and Virgil had realized oh shit, that guy remembered him and this was going to be a problem. 

“Watcha doing here, kid?” the guy at the desk asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He was closer than the woman, with a crooked tie and a salt-and-pepper beard that made him look old instead of distinguished or whatever he was trying for.

“I’m looking for my dads,” Virgil said and holy shit this was a bad decision. “Lo-Logan Ackroyd, and Remus P-Prince.” He swallowed nervously, digging his fingers into the boxes of take out and trying hard not to let his spine fold like a chocolate éclair. 

The man chokes, nearly spitting up his coffee all over his tie. “No way! You’re the kid?”

“Jeff!” The lady with the frizzy hair hissed.

“What!” Jeff exclaimed. “You heard what Logan said!” The man turned back to Virgil and Virgil forced himself not to take a step back or sprint for Janus’s car or melt into a puddle of human goo or start crying. “Man, that guy really is an unfeeling robot. How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

“Jeff!” The woman yelled. “I’m sorry, sweetheart; don’t mind him.”

“I’m seventeen?” Virgil said. “And it’s.. uh.” He swallowed, glancing at the receptionist who still looked to be deep in the conversation with the delivery man. “It’s-- it’s okay. I know what it sounded like yesterday. It wasn’t exactly… uh… Logan and Remus aren’t my parents!” 

The man and the woman were looking at him now, with twin gazes just short of being hungry. Virgil felt distinctly like he’d just jumped into a lake full of piranhas and kindly asked them not to eat him alive, please and thanks. He took a deep breath, trying to untense his shoulders.

What had Janus said? It was like tearing off a bandaid? 

“I’m adopted! But my parents, like the real ones, are still around. They just don’t have custody, you know? Logan and Remus do, because they are good people! Totally good people who probab--I mean definitely haven’t committed unspeakable crimes or anything of the like that could be proven in the court of law! But like yesterday, haha, I mean things haven’t always been easy because like, I’m kinda difficult and I don’t call them dad or anything because I have a dad already who is not Logan and I told Logan I didn’t want to call him dad and so he doesn’t really call me son and definitely not his son, you know? He really didn’t mean it like how it sounded because he’s cool and haha, yeah isn’t that like a horrible coincidence that it sounded bad? But he’s-- Logan I mean-- is really good! Really nice and helps me with my math homework. A really, uhm. He’s a good guy. You know?” 

The receptionist was looking at him now, too. And so was the delivery man, their conversation entirely forgotten.

Virgil swallowed like he was drowning, wishing that he could shut up because there was no way these all competent adults were going to buy that horrible, terrible story that wasn’t even really a story as much as just a bunch of gibberish tossed out with Logan’s name in it. It was like he hadn’t even practiced with Janus at all. He barely even got a foot in the door before he just started talking! Did these people even know Logan? Or did he just spit out a fake life story to some random people in the company lobby and would absolutely never be able to show his face here again? 

“On second thought, I’ll just go,” Virgil rasped out, and turned on his heel, preparing to bolt for the doors before security could be called for the random kid who just tried to buy his way into a company HQ building with cold Thai food and a fake story about fake parents who would never even want to consider being real parents. Would they charge him with espionage for that? Could they? Is there even bail for espionage accounts?!

“Oh no no no!” The woman exclaimed suddenly, putting her coffee directly on the receptionist counter. “Oh honey, I am so sorry! Of course Logan is a good da-fathe-- I mean a good guardian! Jeff and I didn’t mean to make you think we didn’t know that!”

“Did I say unfeeling?” The man said, laughing nervously and tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I meant unrelenting! An unrelenting robot who has nothing but… love… in his…uh heart. Hey, do you think that maybe you could not bring up this conversation to him? I like my job.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Like actually could fucking not. He was going to have to sit down because there was no way that should have worked at all. The woman and the man were doing a piss-poor job of having a subtle conversation under their breaths about which of them was going to get fired as if Virgil actually did have sway with Logan and Remus. The relief was so overwhelming it was terrifying.

Shit, is this what Janus felt every time he made up a lie? If so, Virgil might be able to understand it. He doubted straight ecstasy would come close to this feeling. 

The take out boxes creaked in his sweaty, clammy hands as the woman turned back towards Virgil with a too-bright, too-wide smile, that reminded him of his mother when she was on the phone with his teachers who called to let her know that he was failing the class: placating and fake and screaming that she completely believed him and was not even going to bother asking for the other parties side of the story.

“Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey?” she said. “Candy will get you your own personal badge and then you won’t even have to stop around here and talk to us silly old people. Candy?”

“Uh, yeah,” The receptionist said. “I’ll get it to Mr. Ackroyd by the end of the day tomorrow.”

The other woman smiled at him and started guiding him towards the elevators, her badge dangling in her hand. “I’m sure your dads are expecting you, right?”

“It’s a uh…surprise, actually,” Virgil stuttered. “Big surprise.”

“Oh that’s lovely! What a thoughtful son!”

Yep, Virgil thought, swallowing back the urge to vomit all over her knockoff Christian Louboutin pumps (and the fact that Virgil knew they’re knockoffs is equally nauseating, damnit Janus). The thought, though, just for that moment, gave Virgil something to focus on (Janus’s stupid face, the taste of his lipgloss, “I’ll pay your bail.”). He clung to his take out boxes, and stood at least three feet away from the woman, and tried not to feel like he just entered the elevator to hell when the doors slowly rolled shut.

The woman might be talking to him, chatting with her pleasant and polite voice that does nothing to actually put Virgil at ease. Janus probably would be in his fucking element right here, probably soften her up further with a few on-the-spot made up stories that make him out to be a humble yet high achieving son (only half lies: Janus was high achieving, but the day he acted humble about anything would be the day that Virgil did stand up comedy for the whole school during his lunch block). Still that sort of thing would make Logan and Remus look really good, right? 

Virgil should be saying something. He should tell her that he loves his parents and that they are the perfect family and Logan and Remus don’t have a 90% chance of responding “who?” when this woman tries to say he’s their son. He shouldn’t be standing ramrod still in the elevator, holding take out food so close to himself it might look as if he’s trying to wear it, or breathing so loud that people in the lobby could still hear him, what the fuck is wrong with him--

“Hey hun,” the woman said. “I don’t think I caught your name, now. What was that again?”

Virgil swallowed hard, forcing his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth. “Uh… Virgil. My name is Virgil.”

Why did that sound like he was making it up? That wasn’t even a lie! His name was Virgil! Unless it wasn’t? Would he have even known if Virgil wasn’t the name his parents-- real parents-- had given him?

“Virgil,” she repeated pleasantly. “That’s a wonderful name.”

“Yep, it’s mine. Totally mine. Why wouldn’t it be mine?” 

Her eyebrows creased in confusion and Virgil debated slamming his head against the reflective metal doors. Before he could get to the part where he follows through on that one, the elevator diiiiinged! And the floor settled to a stop. 

“Oh wonderful,” the woman said. “Now would you like to visit Remus first or Logan? Logan has his own office but Remus has a cubical nearby if you want.”

Virgil honestly hadn’t thought he would get this far. He’d been half convinced that Remus would just be… in the lobby, ready to discount his lies, or Logan would be in the parking lot ready to ask him who exactly he was because surely a random restaurant worker wasn’t worth remembering, or Janus would be telling him that he was an idiot and embarrassing and why are we even dating again? 

He opened his mouth but no words were coming out, certainly not ones that would make any of this better than the dumpster fire it was already.

“Jen,” A voice said from nearby. Virgil almost jumped right out of his skin, but it turned out just to be another worker in the office: dyed orange hair and an infinity scarf and hiding behind a stack of files almost as tall as they were. They were looking at Virgil though with a nervous expression as if they thought Virgil was the herald of the workplace firing squad or the next round of interns that would eventually take their job. “Uh, who is your… uhm…?”

“Quin,” the woman said warmly, as if she had been just as put off by Virgil’s lack of response as he himself had been. “This is Virgil. You know, Remus and Logan’s son that they talk about all the time? He brought them a surprise lunch! Isn’t that sweet?”

Ah fuck, they talk about having a son?! Did Logan and Remus actually have a son?! Did Janus just forget to tell him about that?! 

Janus, what the fuck?!

The new person’s eyes widened as they took in Virgil’s appearance, which was very much out of place in the entire building. He’d worn his jeans with the least amount of holes in them but his only pair of shoes at the moment were these converse and he’d scribbled black sharpie on them out of boredom in his history class last year. He didn’t exactly look anything like someone who lived with Logan might, considering Virgil had never seen Logan not wearing a business suit, but this was the best outfit he could come up with from his closet.

“Uh yeah, totally. Uhm.” The person said nervously and then leaned in close to the woman and whispered, as if Virgil wouldn’t be able to hear them at all, “Uh, didn’t Logan…uhm… say….?”

The woman laughed painfully in a way that made Virgil wonder what exactly they had all done when under the impression that Logan was an asshole who didn’t love his son (a son he didn’t have because Virgil was not his son and even if Virgil was he wouldn’t blame Logan for not wanting him).

 “Oh it was just a misunderstanding! Virgil told Jeff and I about it downstairs. We can have lunch together today and I’ll tell you all about it!”

Virgil frowned slightly, because well… he didn’t exactly mind that people would be talking about it-- that was part of the whole plan anyway, to have people talk about-- but something in him was insulted that it would be shared so blaise. Like, didn’t his homelife situation feel even an ounce personal or private? This woman was just going… to talk about him… and Logan… and Remus…and their private, totally real family business over lunch like she knew everything about it and had the right and authority to disclose that information?

For a second, Virgil was half tempted to tell her that he was also royalty of a distance country and that it was super secret because there were people who would kill to know his whereabouts and they could be anyone, ma’am, and they could be anywhere and now that you know they’ll definitely come after you too. Did you know the last person whom I told, went missing within ten hours and the police are still finding body parts of them around the city?… Anyway, have fun sleeping tonight. Fucker.

“Quin!” A familiar voice yelled from around the corner, causing the person in front of Virgil to leap into the air almost a whole foot. The files they were carrying nearly took flight, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to worry about them when he was busy watching a rolling chair skid out from a cubicle and bring him face-to-face with Remus Prince.

If hearing Logan say Virgil would never been his son was bad on Virgil, it looked like it had been absolute hell on Remus: the guy didn’t really advertise mental stability on a regular day, but now there were bags under his eyes, what looked like an actual rats nest in his hair, and his shirt was on both backwards and stained that spoke either of having never known what a washing machine was or he killed someone in his cubicle. 

Whatever had gone down after Virgil (calmly, not crying, not hurt) asked them to leave must have been bad, if it got the guy who barely knew him to look like he’d been playing matador to eighteen wheelers on the highway.

Virgil knew the exact moment that Remus recognized (remembered, knew) him, too, even though his stupid monkey instinct brain had been shrieking that if he stood still Remus wouldn’t have been able to see him at all. 

“Virgil,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair as if to pluck out whatever creature was in it and offer it to him as a greeting. His eyes darted towards the other adults around him with curiosity, as he stood up and kicked his chair behind him back into a cubicle. “What…are ya doing here, kid?”

“Uh, lunch?” Virgil says, surprisingly calm for someone whose brain was nothing but static and swears and scream-sobbing.

Remus stared at the bag in Virgil’s hands, and then up at him and then back at the bag. Virgil wondered for a moment if he had mixed up the plastic bags in Janus’s cars, accidentally grabbing the bag of live, feral squirrels instead of the takeout.

 “Lunch,” Remus echoed. “For me?”

Virgil didn’t blame him for being suspicious. Virgil had never come close to acting comfortable in Remus’s presence and he knew it. Remus took whatever Virgil threw at him (hisses, sharp barbed words, the worst soda combinations Virgil could think of) and acted complete unphased, like Virgil was acting normal, like there was nothing wrong with him, like he enjoyed Virgil’s weird attempts at scaring him off.

Virgil took a deep breath and then set his jaw. “Yeah. You. And Logan. Like a family lunch. You. Me. Logan. I thought it would be nice. To talk. And stuff. As a family.”

“Family!” Another other woman from the cubicle behind Remus squealed. And then seemed to realize the attention had landed on her. “Oh sorry! Just pretend I’m not here!”

“Gladly,” Virgil said. He swore he saw Remus’s lips flicker into a wicked grin at the sound, but it was gone in another moment. Fast enough to give whiplash and remind Virgil why exactly Remus was nearly as terrifying as Patton Hart in terms of mind-fuckery shenanigans. 

“Anyway,” Virgil said, forcing himself to look at Remus in the eye and challenging him to cut in. “I know that Lo was beating himself up about everything that happened, even though I told him it was… fine and that we talked everything out last night. I was worried about what your coworkers might be saying, even though it's none of their business, and you guys are really fucking good parents.”

Remus smiled, and then he laughed, and part of Virgil thought that he was definitely calling Virgil’s bluff and security at the same time. But instead the man reached out and ruffled Virgil’s hair the same way his real father hadn’t done in ten years. It was so jarring and sudden that Virgil just stood there and took it and definitely did not have to swallow back the sudden urge to cry.

“You are absolutely going to get me killed by Logan,” Remus said, low enough that it was probably just meant for Virgil. “Hey, LOGAN! DARLING, LOVE OF MY LIFE--!” 

A door down the narrow hall swung over, nearly so sharp that it dented the inner wall and Logan stuck his head out “Remus, I swear to Newton you better have--Virgil?”

The man jerked forward, although he looked a bit more like he would have loved to slam the door closed again. His glasses had fingerprints on the lenses, and his shirt was the same shade as yesterday, although it did look like someone washed and ironed it, unlike Remus. Whatever morning he had, was certainly not going well, if the scowl that had been on his face was anything to go by.

Still Virgil waved at him, like his hands weren’t shaking, his knees weren’t about to give out, and his stomach wasn’t about to relocate to the office building’s tile floor because rent was cheaper.

“I--” Logan ran a hand through his tie, nervously, although Virgil had never seen Logan nervous. He was confident, honest, brutal; but that made his compliments feel like nobel prizes when they were given out and his scathing remarks hurt all that much more. ((You are not our son and never will be.)) “Virgil, what are you doing here?” 

Remus was grinning, though, winking at Virgil as if there was a secret he didn’t know about happening. “Didn’t know you, Lo? Our son brought us lunch.”

Logan leveled him with a glare that Virgil was an extreme fan of. Something he saw Logan give a rude customer at the restaurant once and had ever since been trying to replicate because it was the perfect blend of you’re embarrassing yourself and I’d burn down your house with you in it if I had a lighter on me right now. 

And Remus didn’t even look a bit put off by it. It must have been a married couple thing. Or a Remus thing. Or a Remus-was-married-and-got-that-look-enough-to-build-up-an-immunity thing

“What did you do?” Logan asked his husband.

“Logan!” The woman from the lobby scolded. “I can’t believe you! Your wonderful, sweet son walked all the way here to bring you lunch and you--”

“Yeah, our totally sweet son!” Remus chimed in. “He just came in here. All by himself!”

Logan ignored them both, turning his clinical gaze on Virgil the same way the counselors of his previous schools would when his teachers informed them that he was “purposely” failing their classes. Straight and cutting and you are not my son and never will be and--

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” Virgil said in a small voice. “I can come back another time. Or never. I just… I thought… you guys came to visit me yesterday and we never really got lunch so I brought you Pad Thai with tofu. And uhm…” Please. I could make a good son. You don’t even know me yet.

The women around him all took a sharp intake of breath, the person with the orange hair absolutely whimpered as if he’d stabbed them. 

“I just… wanted to spend time with you,” Virgil said. “To, uhm, talk.”

“Holy fuck, you’re ruthless,” Remus murmured under his breath, and it nearly felt like praise. He wasn’t exactly sure what the fuck he was being praised for, but he must have done something right. 

Logan’s face ran through emotions too fast for Virgil to catch them and classify them. His lungs were pounding against his ribs, trying to expand past what a normal human can breathe for, but then Logan’s eyes melted a fraction, and Virgil thought he could walk on air.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I-- of course, Virgil. Why… why don’t you and Remus come in here and we’ll have lunch.” 

Virgil didn’t sprint towards him, but he could understand if everyone else in the office made the mistake of thinking he did. He heard Remus say something about kids that made it sound like he was feeding into that whole Virgil-is-his-son thing further. However all Virgil could think was Logan, and Logan’s Office Away From People, and I didn’t think I was going to get this far did the elevator break and did it crash to the ground killing me on impact?

Remus closed the door behind himself, trapping Virgil in the office with the two adults. It looked a lot like… well… an office. There weren’t any pictures of Remus or anyone on the walls. There weren’t even knick knacks on the desk. Impersonal, kinda cold, uncomfortable, as if Logan didn’t want any distractions from his 9 to 5 day shift or simply did not like anything-- which Virgil knew wasn’t true because the man was married and once went on a rant about space when Virgil was serving him. There was an Excel sheet pulled up on the computer which it seemed  that Logan had been correcting before he’d been disturbed by Virgil’s… mess.

((There was a chair in the corner with a suit jacket tossed over it. It didn’t match the one Logan was wearing today.))

The room was silent for a whole second while all three of them listened to the people outside go back to whatever their jobs were. 

Then.

“Did you,” Remus started slowly, a light in his eyes that made Virgil’s knees threaten to give out. “Did you just spread the rumor that Logan and I are good parents?! That’s so ballsy, kid!”

Virgil wasn’t sure how much of his smile looked like a grimace. He held out the boxes of food to Logan and Remus. “I am, uh, blackmailing you. Both of you.”

“Blackmailing,” Logan echoed, as Remus grabbed his shoulder and shook them both at a frequency that probably wasn’t safe for humans to be shaken at. “I think I need to sit down. This is not....”

“Oh my god,” Remus whispered. “Holy mother of Culthulu on a butt fucking stick! He’s playing The Game!” 

“Game?” Virgil repeated, trying to reign in all the terror welding in his throat that honestly he was surprised hadn’t straight up killed him already. “Uh no-- I don’t-- Look, it’s really simple! I just need Logan to pretend to be my dad for a day. Like shake hands with my teacher, tell him everything is a-okay at home, and then we don’t ever have to speak about it again! Or speak to each other again! Unless you need your coworkers to think you’re a decent person-- not saying that you aren’t! Because I know you both are! Obviously! Because I wouldn’t agree to a three hour car ride with murderers-- did I even say it was a three hour car ride? Oh fuck I’m sorry, this was stupid--”

“Is there a reason things are not… “a-okay” at home?” Logan said, just short of sounding strangled.

Luckily before Virgil could start sobbing Remus threw a hand over Logan’s mouth and leaned forward. “The kid wants you to play parent, Lolo! Stop thinking so much!”

Logan batted his hand away. “Why me? Why not Remus? Or your actual parents?” Logan asked. “Why… me?”

Virgil wilted back despite his best efforts, already feeling his face do that stupid thing where it heats up beyond humiliation and his entire soul craves spontaneous combustion. “Please don’t make me say it.”

But Logan and Remus apparently couldn’t read minds (fuckkkkk) and just continued to stare at him in baffled confusion. Virgil curled his hands into fists and forced himself to stare at the wall behind Logan’s head and state, out loud, for everyone to hear, “You’re cool.”

“Cool,” Logan echoed. “I’m cool. I’m so cool that you think that makes up for the fact that--”

“Look, my actual parents would be excited if they found out a serial killer grabbed me off the street,” Virgil blurted out. “Remus freaks me the fuck out-- no offense, or actually a lot of offense, please stop grinning at me like that-- and you’re cool, don’t ask me to do anything stupid, never told me I was stupid for not understanding calc-- fuck calc-- so yeah you’re at the top of my adults I trust list right now and I just need someone to be my parent for one day so I can go to this seminar that I really want to go to about business finances management. After that you can tell your coworkers whatever the fuck you guys want from me! Tell them I died! I don’t care! I just… please. Just for ten hours. I’ll find a way to pay for gas, food, and housing so you won’t have to spend a dime!”

“Absolutely not--”

“Please!” Virgil said.

“You’re not paying for it!” Logan said. He shoved his glasses up to his hairline and massaged the bridge of his nose and Virgil’s heart stopped in his chest, leaving him as frozen as a statue.

Remus leaned back against Logan’s desk, far too casual. “So….you’re going?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Virgil didn’t often subscribe to the idea that hope felt like a fluttery thing, but goddamnit did hope feel like a moth with a broken wing struggling to find some way through a glass window pane. He felt like he was going to be sick; he felt like he was going to pass out. 

Logan placed a hand on his desk to steady himself. “...where… is this event.”

“YES!” Virgil couldn’t help himself. Luckily, Remus and Logan didn’t look too bothered by his outburst. He dug the crumpled folded flyer from his pocket and smoothed it out for Logan to look at, which he accepted easily, already scanning the red, green, and blue writing with a critical eye. 

Virgil knew he was grinning stupidly-- like more stupid than when he watched Janus trip on the sidewalk or answer a question with an abundance of confidence just to be wrong-- but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and turned halfway, to find that Remus was picking through the takeout boxes, and watching him.

“Uh,” Virgil said, smile dropping. “Sorry. That I’ll be stealing your husband for a day. Is… is that okay? Do you guys need to talk about that?”

Remus snorted. “Yeah so, funny story: Logan and I aren’t actually--”

“--in need of discussing it,” Logan cut in, suddenly talking over Remus without looking up from the flyer, or his phone where he was googling something. “I seem to recall a conversation where…. What was it? Ah yes: Just because you let me put a ring on your hand does not mean that either of us controls the other.”

“Oh my god, were you guys actually going to have a divorce?” Virgil blurted out. “Oh shit, did I just make this worse?”

“No,” Remus and Logan said at the same time, in such an agreement that it startled both of them and Virgil raised his hands in a placating move.

“No, kid,” Remus said. “Logan and I just need to have a… conversation.”

“More than one,” Logan added.

“About what we want out of…this.”

“Yes. This.”

Virgil glanced between them. “You guys are acting weird and I don’t like it.”

“Virgil, I am concerned about the statement you made about your parents not caring if a serial killer killed you,” Logan said. “Please, elaborate.”

“It’s not important,” Virgil said automatically. “Really. I think whatever the two of you have going on is far more detail worthy--”

“I also would like you to know that I will not be starting any rumors about you having died, especially not to my coworkers. Remus?”

“The game is not fun when people are getting hurt,” Remus… agreed? Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. “So, for the foreseeable future you are going to be our son, which is technically providing a service, wouldn’t you agree, Lo?”

“Yes. Providing a service requires a payment. How does thirty dollars an hour sound?”

“What the fuck,” Virgil said. “Wait--”

“This event is an all day affair, which means both of us will be too tired to do any driving afterwards, so that means a hotel,” Logan continued. “Remus, I assumed that you would like to join? Excellent. I’ll have Patton approve your days off. Two bedrooms. Virgil, you mentioned you like to sleep in so I assume a check out around noon the following day, plus a three hour drive back here, would make a total of…. Around twenty seven hours. Which comes out to a total of eight hundred ten dollars. Does that sound adequate?”

Virgil looked at Remus. “I think I made a mistake.”

Remus laughed at him. “I think we should round it to an even thousand.”

“No!” Virgil shrieked. “That was not a solution!”

“Face it, kid. You just won yourself two sugar daddies in one go.” 

“Stop talking!” Virgil said. “You are not going to pay me to be your son on a trip that I am blackmailing you into going on!”

“Sure we are,” Remus said, talking through a mouth of food. “Gotta make up for all the birthdays we missed for our son.”

Virgil thought he was going to melt into the floor. But uh, it was nice? Kinda? Logan was definitely holding a piece of a smile on his normally stoic face and Remus was almost chill and they had been in this room together for a whole five minutes and nothing had exploded and neither of them had tried to kill him for pretending to be their son or otherwise revealed that they were insanely evil. 

So, yeah. When Virgil saw them in the restaurant he didn’t think he was going to actually get adopted, but well…Virgil was tentatively hopeful for how this might turn out.

(Part 6)

#sanders sides #intrulogical #anxceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #Hahah yeah that certainly is one way to gain a son #fake marriage #fake dating #fake adoption??? #Rumor Mill Au #sympathetic remus #Maybe having a child really will save this marriage #Far too many OCs #Virgil has a +20 to Charisma despite literally everything #Because I make the rules

[frickerdoodledoo]

Soooo... guess who got really nostolgic while having a cold and binge-watched all of Sanders Sides again after almost a year?

For the last few days I have been sucked down a rabbit-hole of Fandercontent, and let me just say... while this fandom is so creative, there are just a few things I wish people utilized more in fics, you know?

(Disclaimer, I live on angst and the Dark Sides are my three favourite characters, so most of these are about both of those subjects. Also not a huge fan of non-mindscape au's, so these are all about canon-adjacent fanfiction. My only AU is Sympathetic Dark Sides where they all coexist. Yes, even Remus.)

First and foremost, and this is what inspired this post until I found more things after, why do I see so few fics that include Virgil's Dark Side Voice™? It happens whenever he get's too stressed in canon, and from how he reacts whenever it happens, it seems to be a bit of an insecurity for him. Why aren't angst authors jumping on that?

Guys. We... we all saw the end-card of Flirt or Flight, right? How come so few do anything regarding Virgil's colour-changing eyeshadow? It's adorable, it's gorgeous, talk about it, please!

When Janus takes off the gloves in order to show himself to be truthful about his name... why??? He did that for a reason. If it was just about the typical "Cross my heart" pose, there was nothing stopping him from leaving on the gloves unless their was a reason to take them off! Theorize, go nuts! (I personally believe that his scales fluctuate in their coverage of his skin, and his hands being completely human shows that he's being honest. He wears gloves to make his lies less obvious.)

And on the subject of Janus' lies, has anybody else realized that for the embodiment of Thomas' Deceitfulness... he's actually kind of a terrible liar? While disguised as other sides, he always drops some pretty obvious hints that he's not the real Patton or Logan. And whenever he does his whole "speaking in lies" thing, he has this tone about him that makes it clear to... almost everyone, (Cough cough except Roman apparently), that he's lying, or atleast just being sarcastic?

In the Five Year Anniversary special, Virgil, Remus, and Janus refer to themselves as the Cousin, Uncle, and Aunt respectively. And I know that there actually is a fair amount of content about the Dark Sides being a seperate but related family, but I just feel like not many people talk about the low-key confirmation of that as a reality, ya know?

More.👏 Protective.👏 Dark Sides.👏 They've known eachother for so long, no matter how close the whole family is, Virgil, Remus and Janus would naturally know eachother better than any of the others.

If we are to assume that Janus even just unstably co-exists with the Light Sides, (like pre-redemption Virgil), post-Redux, but Remus doesn't... Well, that's the third person that Remus actually has a connection to that just... left him. First Roman, then Virgil, now Janus. (I personally believe that the Orange side will just be an Unsympathetic Dick, so he doesn't count, but that's just me.)

I am a "Former Paranoia Virgil" Truther, as are many others in the fandom. However, something I wish I saw more of is others not catching themselves when calling Virgil paranoid. Even better, the Dark Sides not realising how much thinking of that part of his past affects him, thinking nothing of it and then feeling really guilty.

And that's all the canon-supported stuff, but just... one last thing. Consider the following:

The Orange Side is a relatively new "Relevant" or "Consious" Side, his existance only needed when suddenly there were only two Dark Sides and still three Light Sides

Janus is Patton's foil because he represents an "immoral" side to Thomas, and Remus is Roman's foil as a flip-side to one, single concept. Virgil used to be Logan's foil before his redemption, because senseless overthinking and paranoia defies logic.

This need for a foil doesn't apply to Virgil, because he is no longer a Dark Side, but he isn't really a Light Side either. A Grey Side, if you will.

Virgil encompasses both the good and bad aspects of Anxiety, and is even capable of representing more of an excitement or sense of anticipation, hence the purple eyeshadow seen in Fight or Flirt. He is his own foil in the same way that Roman and Remus are eachother's. They're the good and bad of creativity, Virgil is the good and bad of anxiety.

I am most likely not the first person to come up with this, but this is just my specific take.

Anyway, I am probably going to go write atleast half of these prompts myself, so if any of these concepts interest you... maybe stick around?

#sanders sides #dark sides #fanfic ideas #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #idk just a thought #fine ill do it myself #sympathetic remus #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic dark sides

[prodigal-explorer]

anaroceit week - day one - what family is

@anaroceitweek

prompt: forest/magic

relationship: platonic/found family anaroceit

word count: 3.6k

(cw -> whump, physical abuse, kidnapping, selling people (implied), chains, codependent relationships, cursing, bruises, creepy/intimate whumper)

By now, Janus was used to this. All of this. 

He trudged through the forest in a pattern, his feet adjusting to the soft yet spiky underbrush. His face hardened into one expression so his captor couldn’t tell how he was feeling about anything, though anger rose and fell in his chest each time he took a breath. His hands, bound in front of him in fists, the rope coiled around his fingers, and being pulled along, as if he was a dog on a leash, didn’t hurt so much anymore. Now, they just felt numb and tingly from the tightness of the ropes and the force behind each yank pulling him forward. 

Janus had lost count of how many times he had been stolen like this. He wasn’t dumb. He knew he was valuable. Having magical powers tended to add a lot of rarity and demand for a person. Especially powers like Janus’. People liked what Janus could do for them, even if the hallucinations he created weren’t real. He could just cross his fingers together, and show any fantasy that people wanted. Loved ones, memories, images of fame and grandeur. Janus could create anything. Sure, none of it was real. But in the moment, did it really matter? Sometimes, pretending is just as good as having the real thing. 

A tree root jutted up from the undergrowth that Janus didn’t see, his eyes clouded over in thought. His foot caught underneath it, and he came crashing down onto the forest floor, the damp fallen leaves doing little to break his fall as his bound hands curled upwards and knocked the wind out of his chest as he landed. Kicking his feet, Janus scrambled to get upright from his position, but his captor only yanked his hands out from underneath him, starting to pull Janus along once again, dragging Janus along and wrenching his shoulders painfully. 

“We don’t have time for this,” his captor threatened, his voice cold and demanding. “You’re going to be held with my new apprentice. He’ll take real good care of you until we can get a good enough price for you.” 

“You aren’t selling me,” Janus seethed, finally finding his footing and stumbling upwards. “I’m not an object. I’m a person just like you.” 

“Hmm,” his captor responded. “You keep telling yourself that. My apprentice is here under punishment. Poor thing hates the forest and the outdoors. So…feel free to cause as much harm as you’d like. After all, if you manage to escape from him, it’ll only lead to more punishment for him. And he’s got another…product…with him. Who knows? Maybe you two will be friends?” 

One of the sentences the captor hummed carelessly stuck with Janus, and he yanked a little on the ropes to try and stop his captor. It didn’t work. He only got pulled harder along, almost falling forward for the second time. 

“What makes you think I care about your little apprentice?” Janus hissed, his voice laced with venom. “If he’s anything like you, he deserves whatever he has coming.” 

“Oh, darling,” his captor laughed in a disgusting giggle. “He’s nothing like me.” 

There wasn’t anymore time for questions, as Janus was dragged to what looked like an abandoned shack in the middle of the woods. There was no other civilization, no signs pointing to where to go. Even if Janus did manage to escape, it would be a long way back to any city where he could get help. But Janus didn’t care. He’d escaped from worse. 

The door to the shack was opened, and Janus was shoved inside with little care. The inside was even dingier than the outside, the only source of light being the cracks in a boarded up window. From the corner of the room, chains clattered gently. Janus peered over in that direction and saw a man who looked to be around his age, maybe a little older, playing with a small, dirty, torn up stuffed animal. Surely, this man was far too old for such a toy, but he didn’t seem excited or happy. He seemed vacant, closed off. Defeated. 

“Virgil! I’m back!” his captor called out. “And look at this! I brought you a friend! Here, I’ll put him right next to you.” 

Janus seethed as his captor pushed him to the floor and started to attach the chain cuffs to his ankles before untying the ropes around his wrists, and quickly replacing them with the chains after putting mittens on Janus’ hands to prevent any sort of power usage. After all, his fingers had to be linked in order for his powers to work. Now, Janus was rendered useless. 

Looking to his right, Janus tried to get a better look at Virgil, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. Virgil’s raven black hair was a matted mess, and he had bruises blooming all over his face and pale, exposed chest. He had been wearing a white t-shirt, but it was tattered and ripped to the point where it was providing him no protection. His eyes were dark and stormy with unspoken emotion, but his body was still. He didn’t even look like he was breathing. Janus felt the overwhelming urge to take Virgil’s hands and comfort him, but obviously he couldn’t in this state. 

“Roman! Get out here!” the captor shouted towards the kitchen. 

Janus listened closely, and to his surprise, he could hear sobbing coming from the other area where the man named Roman apparently seemed to be. His cries sounded young and scared. Janus almost felt pity, but he was also confused. Virgil seemed to be the other prisoner his captor was talking about. So who did that make Roman? 

When Janus realized, his eyes narrowed. The apprentice. 

Why would the apprentice be crying? He didn’t have to be chained up. He had all the power here. He was probably the one who hurt Virgil so badly. Janus hardened in resentment with every sob he heard. This Roman guy didn’t have the right to cry. He could leave at any moment and nobody would stop him. 

“Roman!” the captor shouted again, but his voice adopted a chilling sing-song attitude. “Don’t you wanna come out here and meet your new pet?” 

“No!” Roman shouted, still not revealing himself. “Please don’t make me, I can’t do this again!” 

“Oh, please, you certainly can,” the captor replied, rolling his eyes playfully, as if Roman was an over-dramatic child. “Come and meet him. He’s almost as lovely as you. Come on out, my dear, and if you’re good to me from now on, I’ll give you double rations.” 

That seemed to be what convinced Roman to emerge. And Janus was not expecting what he saw whatsoever. 

A scrawny redheaded boy with dark skin and extremely curly hair came out of the kitchen. He seemed to be an adult, but he was definitely on the younger side. Roman stood tall, even taller than Janus, and definitely taller than Virgil, but he shook like a leaf, which rendered his domineering height unthreatening. If Janus was unchained, he could make mincemeat out of such a person. Especially in this state. 

Roman appeared to be just as battered and injured as Virgil, his body caked in dirt, and his clothes ripped up and ruined. One of his pants legs had been nearly completely ripped off, revealing his bruised and scratched up knee. But more importantly than any of that, Janus’ eyes locked on the most shocking thing about Roman: the chain around his ankle. 

The crying man was just as trapped here as Janus and Virgil were. 

“I trust you’ll take good care of him,” the captor said, approaching Roman and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Roman flinched at the touch, but folded in relief when he realized the action was kind and gentle. 

“I will,” he whispered. “I will, I just- I need- I-” 

“What do you need, pet?” the captor asked, starting to weave his fingers through Roman’s hair. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please let me be beautiful again,” Roman whispered. 

Janus didn’t understand what Roman meant. Sure, he was dirty and was wearing rags, but he was undeniably beautiful. His tangled hair framed his face, his cheeks round and youthful. His eyes were large and downturned, and they were a bright amber that could almost be mistaken for orange. He had a flat nose, and small yet plump lips that were chapped, but still a rosy pink color. 

Either way, his captor laughed at Roman’s request, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking Roman down so the boy was forced onto his knees. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” his captor teased. “You’ll never be beautiful again. Those days are over. You’re mine, and nobody who’s mine is ever. Beautiful. Got that?” 

Roman opened his mouth to speak in protest, but his hair was harshly yanked again, which led to him slowly nodding, a tear sliding down his grimy cheek. 

“Now…I’d better see some new bruises, and you’d better write down any information you learn,” his captor threatened. “It could be so much worse than this.” 

Roman took a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body trembling. His voice came out in a soft, terrified whisper. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The captor left with a laugh that shook Janus to his core, slamming the door behind him. Roman and Virgil flinched at the sound, but Janus remained stoic, his eyes narrowing as he thought long and hard about the entire situation. Roman was a prisoner too. Why? 

“Do you have powers too?” Janus asked Roman, who was still crumbling on the floor and crying. 

Roman didn’t respond. But Virgil did. His voice was quiet, and it sounded like the vocal equivalent of wind breezing through trees. 

“He has none,” Virgil whispered. “But that doesn’t matter. He belongs to Foster just as much as we do.” 

“Ah. Foster. That’s his name,” Janus said, his words clipped. “What’re you here for?” 

“I just got snatched off the street one day. Foster somehow knew everything about me. My address, my name, my powers.” 

“Me too,” Janus realized. “I guess he captured us in the same way. Stalking us, and then just…going for it, I guess. He wants to sell me.” 

“Same here,” Virgil said. “I don’t know what kind of creep would buy a person in this century. But I guess there’s a market for it. Foster seems like an expert on all this, after all. It doesn’t matter anymore, but…I can control clouds. I can move them around, I can make it rain, snow, lightning, whatever I want. It was cool.” 

“You think that’s cool?” Janus joked softly. “I can make people see anything. It’s an illusion, but I can make anything look real. I can make your best friend appear right in front of you. I can make you think you look like Angelina Jolie. It was…kinda fun. To just play pretend with anyone who wanted to.” 

For a moment, silence filled the room. But soon, Roman’s gasps and shuddering grew louder. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Roman whined quietly from where he sat, still on his knees. “Please. I have to do this, I have to make him happy, I have to. I have to.” 

“Roman, buddy, you gotta breathe,” Virgil mumbled, reaching out to put his chained hands on Roman’s thigh. “Breathe. He’s gone.” 

Janus stared at Virgil with incredulous shock. Why was Virgil helping Roman? Why was Virgil helping the person who would keep them stuck here? Was it Stockholm Syndrome? Was Virgil on drugs? 

Roman practically lunged at Virgil, and Janus flinched back, prepared for a fight, but when he didn’t hear any punching or kicking, he looked over at the two, and realized that they were embracing, Roman sobbing into Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Come on,” Virgil whispered. “Let’s do this again. You hit me, I hit you. Let’s do the right shoulder this time. Are you ready?” 

“No, I can’t, I can’t, please, please don’t,” Roman gasped, starting to panic as he shook in Virgil’s arms. “I just want to get out of here!” 

“We both do. Well, we all do now,” Virgil mumbled. “Okay. Let’s take a break. Let’s…get to know the new guy. How’s that sound?” 

“Okay,” Roman agreed, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. I’m sorry, Virgil.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Virgil said, a strange sort of command to him considering his situation. “Fix it.” 

“You’re right,” Roman nodded, with a brotherly sort of sheepishness before turning to Janus. “What’s your name?” 

“Why should I tell you?” Janus asked with hostility. 

“Because I said so,” Virgil hissed, with an edge to his voice that Janus hadn’t detected before. 

A jolt rushed through Janus’ body. Virgil’s strange protectiveness towards Roman was terrifying to be on the receiving end of. 

“Alright, alright, fine,” Janus sighed. “I’m Janus. I already know both of your names because…well…yeah. What do we even do here? Do we just twiddle our thumbs and wait?” 

“Not exactly,” Roman said awkwardly. “Foster comes around for random checks. He wants to make sure that you both are…weakened well enough to be compliant.” 

“He wants Roman to hurt us,” Virgil muttered venomously. “Cruel ass motherfucker can’t even do the dirty work. He has to make his son do it.” 

Janus almost choked on air. 

“What?? You’re Foster’s son??” he demanded. 

“I might as well be,” Roman shrugged. “He saved me. I don’t know what from, but he told me it’s better if I don’t remember. He raised me, and…he’s given me everything. I owe him my life.” 

“And that’s why you’re here,” Janus realized. “You do whatever he asks of you, no questions asked, huh?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Roman asked. “That’s what family is.” 

Janus couldn’t help but scoff. 

“No it’s not! Family isn’t just blindly doing someone’s bidding just because they gave you food and clothing and shelter. Those things are the bare fucking minimum. A family is…people you can trust. People who you help and who help you just because you all want to make each other’s lives better. There’s no owing, no debts. It’s just…a friendly tradeoff. Family is who you feel safe around.” 

Roman shuddered. He certainly didn’t feel safe around Foster. 

“Right,” Virgil whispered, rubbing Roman’s back. “Right.” 

He seemed just as mystified by the idea of family as Roman. Roman seemed to listen to Virgil like he had the answers to everything. What sort of nonsense had Virgil been telling Roman about family before? 

Janus shook his head, figuring that it was unfair to judge Virgil for such a thing. After all, he had no idea how long Virgil had been kidnapped or the treatment he was subjected to. The treatment both of them would be subjected to, now that they were chained up and at the mercy of a puppet. 

But Janus found that as he glared at Roman, desperately trying to muster up some defiance, some hatred, something in those amber eyes, shiny with tears, made every negative feeling dissipate. Janus wanted to make those eyes light up with happiness. He could practically imagine how beautiful Roman looked when he smiled. Was this the same spell that Roman had Virgil under too? 

And when Janus decided to focus his attention on Virgil, he couldn’t help but feel extreme admiration rise through him as he watched Virgil, chained up and stiff with pain, holding Roman as if he were a child under his care. Virgil was so gentle, so careful, even though he had every reason not to be. He had every reason to be bitter and resentful towards Roman, no matter what his situation was. Janus’ face burned with shame as he realized that he almost had been exactly that. Virgil was much stronger than him. 

“Why were you talking about hitting earlier?” Janus asked. “The whole “you hit me and I hit you” thing? What was that about?” 

“Oh.” Virgil squirmed a bit awkwardly. “It’s…how we make it fair. Since I have to look all beat up in order for Roman to not get in trouble, every time he hits me, I hit him back in the same place. Anything Foster can do is a lot worse than what I can do.” 

“That’s…fucking awful,” Janus said after a long moment of bewilderment. “Are you serious? It’s just…a cycle of pain?” 

“Trust me, it’s a lot worse than the alternative,” Roman said. “We’ve tried so many other things. This is the only one that works. Besides…Foster- he likes how I look when I-” 

“When you’re all bruised up?” Janus joked, and when Roman flinched, Janus’ smile dropped. “Holy shit, seriously??” 

“It’s a win-win,” Virgil snapped angrily. “Except Foster gets both wins. He gets to see me too weak to escape, and he gets to see his little pet in pain. What a perfect world he lives in, where he gets everything he wants.” 

“I’m not joining in on that,” Janus said. “That’s insane. This isn’t like a game, this isn’t- I’m not falling for his trap. I’m getting out of here.” 

“No the fuck you’re not,” Virgil glowered. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Do you know what will happen if you escape?” 

“I’ll be free?” Janus said with a short laugh. 

“Sure, whatever, but think about what you’re leaving behind. Foster will see that you escaped, and you know who he’ll turn on?” Virgil asked. “Huh?? Do you??” 

“Virgil, stop.” 

Roman’s voice was demanding. Virgil rolled his eyes, but he slunk back against the wall. 

“You know I hate it when you talk for me,” Roman said. “I’m not a kid. I can handle this just as well as you can.” 

“Clearly, you can’t,” Virgil snapped. “We just saw-” 

“I don’t care about what you just saw,” Roman interrupted. “We protect each other. You don’t just protect me. If anything, I have it better than both of you. At least I know that Foster’s keeping me.” 

“Gee, thanks for the reminder,” Janus hissed. 

“So, let’s just…work together, okay?” Roman said. “It’ll get us hurt, but it’ll get us less hurt than any of the other options.” 

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. “There’s one option where nobody gets hurt at all.” 

“Yeah?” Virgil snorted doubtfully. “And what would that be?” 

“If we all escape.” 

Virgil and Roman stared at Janus for a long moment, before making eye contact with each other and starting to weakly laugh. The action seemed to take a lot out of them. They seemed almost out of practice with it. 

“You really think we have a chance of escaping Foster?” Roman asked. “Didn’t you forget we’re in chains? I don’t have a key or anything.” 

“We’ll pick the locks,” Janus said. “It can’t be that hard. These look to all be controlled by the same key. If we could pick one lock, we could pick all the others too. And we’d start by freeing me, because once I can make my illusions, Foster will be helpless against us.” 

“Wait, how do I know you won’t just run off the second we let you go?” Virgil asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Okay, let’s let Roman out instead and see how he does against Foster,” Janus snapped sarcastically in response. 

“You’re really fucking annoying, you know that?” Virgil muttered. “Okay, look. We’ll let me out first. I won’t be going anywhere without Roman, and my clouds can obscure Foster’s vision just as well as your illusions can. Sounds like a plan?” 

Roman was starting to smile, and Janus had been correct. His smile was gorgeous. 

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered, “Foster is pretty much all I’ve ever known. I want to be myself. I want to be in charge of myself. I want to have my own family. A real one.” 

“Hold on, Roman, you were talking to Foster about something before,” Janus said. “About being beautiful. What were you talking about?” 

Roman inspected his arm. Littered with bruises and caked with dirt. 

“Nobody could ever love somebody who looks like me but Foster,” he said plaintively. “Nobody. I look like a punching bag. They’re all over me. They’re all over my arms, my legs, my chest, my back…my neck. He’s made some of them. And he makes sure that they never fade away.” 

Roman took a long look in the dusty mirror that was hanging on the wall. 

He really was very superficial, wasn’t he? 

“Your vanity’s resolve is almost admirable,” Janus mumbled fondly, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what he does to you. You’re very beautiful.” 

“You’re just like Virgil,” Roman laughed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“No he’s not,” Virgil said. “And I don’t either. Just like you tell me I’m strong, I’m telling you that you’re beautiful. It could take you a hundred years to believe me, but I know that one day you will.” 

“And one day, you will,” Roman said in response to Virgil. “Look at Janus. He looks like he could be a bodybuilder, and Foster still got him. You aren’t weak for landing in his clutches. Just…unlucky. Really, really, really unlucky.” 

“Whatever,” Virgil sighed. “We all have insecurities, blah, blah, blah. We need to focus on getting out of here. This is everyone’s last chance to back out. Are we doing this?” 

Roman nodded immediately. But Janus hesitated. He barely knew these two. Who was to say they wouldn’t just leave Janus behind? But either way, being left behind would probably be just as bad as being here with them. There was nothing to lose from this plan unless they failed. And that was no reason not to do something. 

“Alright,” Janus said finally. “Let’s escape this place.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic janus #anaroceit #anaroceit week #whump writing #whump #sanders sides whump #sanders sides fanfiction #physical abuse #kidnapping #chains #codependent relationship #cursing #bruises #creepy/intimate whumper #ez's writing

[soysaucevictim]

Besides all the Remus stuff I, predictably, loved...

Virgil just fucking hitting the bricks made me laugh possibly the most, in the trailer video. :,D

#remus sanders #virgil sanders #this is an asinine post but fr - virgil noeping out of situations is hilarious to me #gotta lean into the flight part of sympathetic nervous system responses #(there was a sort of physical comedy in that that got me good) #(as someone w/ avoidant tendencies... Mood)

[asylum-sides]

(love Your style) *backs up* so how is everyone today? ive had beetlejuice the musical constantly playing in my head for about a week now

(Could have sworn I drew a response before I just stopped doing things, but I don't know what I did with it so I made a new one 💚)

#roman sanders #tw mental disorders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #delusional roman #remus and roman #patton sanders #trans patton #virgil sanders #unstable logan #logan sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #janus sanders

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Language Barriers

same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon

hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 3431

Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.

Physical Touch

If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.

It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?

Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.

Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.

Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.

Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!

Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!

And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.

So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.

Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.

***

2. Quality Time

Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.

…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.

Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.

He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.

If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.

Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.

Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.

He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.

***

3. Words of Affirmation

Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.

Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?

And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.

Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.

He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.

Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.

He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.

***

4. Acts of Service

Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.

Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.

Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.

Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.

Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.

Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.

Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.

***

5. Gifts

Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.

Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.

For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.

Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.

Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.

Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.

The other present was a box full of kittens.

”Ro?”

“Yeah?”

Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”

Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”

”Don’t realize.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”

“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”

“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”

“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”

“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”

***

+1: I Love You

”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”

“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”

“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”

“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”

“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”

”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”

“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”

”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”

“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”

“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”

“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”

“What do they say?”

“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”

“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”

“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”

“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”

Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”

“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”

“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”

“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”

Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”

“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”

Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”

“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”

“Well then who did?”

“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”

Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”

“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”

“Can I have the touch one?”

“Certainly.”

“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”

Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”

“That is a simple definition of this, why?”

“Because you guys do these with everyone!”

There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”

“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”

Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”

“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”

”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.

“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.

“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”

Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”

There’s another pause.

Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”

“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course.”

“Will there be food?”

“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”

“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”

“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #virgil sanders

[sinister-things]

Would anyone be interested if I made headcanons for a Spy AU I got in mind?

#pebbles stuff #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides spy au #spy au #thomas sanders

[whqreforstevengrant]

might delete this when i wake up but this was also some concept designs before my final choice.

picani was gonna be a huge anime nerd, Janus was gonna be punk along with Remus; pls ignore my unfinished patton Ngl i do like this remus outfit better so don’t be surprised if you see him change and Remy was gonna be an alt clown kinda person… i still like that RAHH i also might bring hard of hearing logan back?? bc WHY DID I GET RID OF IT?? (this is like two years ago oh my.)

#analogical #emile picani #intruality #janus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roceit #roman sanders #sander sides #sleep sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #thomas sanders #tw deciet #tw remus #virgil sanders

[iceshard1011]

Chapters: 2/8 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: DRLAMP, Nico Flores/Thomas Sanders Characters: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Original Characters, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders-centric, Temporary Character Death, Amnesia, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, The Imagination Room (Sanders Sides), Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders' Part Of The Imagination, Mild Language, Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Family Bonding, Drowning, lots of discussion around death and grief Summary:

Some wins, some losses.

3k chapter two is below :)

Resilience didn’t wake to Patton shaking his shoulder to get up.

Instead, he was awoken by the growling of his own stomach and the delicious smell coming from downstairs. He pulled the covers back and padded down to the kitchen, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. He wasn’t keen on letting any of the rather hostile sides get the jump on him.

“Oh, there he is!” Patton said, smiling at Resilience as he placed a plate on the table. “Come on over, kiddo.”

Four pairs of eyes swiveled around to him as he cautiously moved to a spare seat near the head of the table. Resilience expertly avoided the dissatisfied expressions and scowls, only turning up to return Patton’s comforting smile as he bought two more plates from the kitchen, one filled with pancakes and the other with multiple different types of toppings.

“Everyone,” he said, taking his seat at the head of the table, “this is Resilience. Resilience, this is Thomas’ Logic, Deceit, Creativity and Anxiety.”

Resilience hesitantly followed each of Patton’s nods, briefly taking in the faces and outfits of the sides around him. He was sitting beside Logic, who seemed entirely too interested in the newspaper he was reading. Across from him seemed to be Anxiety, a side he hadn’t met yet. Next to him, Creativity refused to look at anyone. At the far head of the table, Deceit was watching Resilience like a snake might watch its next meal.

“Resilience is still obviously very new to all of this,” Patton went on. “So, we’re all going to give him a warm welcome and help him out whenever he needs it. Alright?”

Resilience suddenly realised he wasn’t the only one who Patton had been acting particularly parental towards; both Anxiety and Creativity grumbled intelligible agreements. Logic hummed in response. Deceit said nothing, but he finally averted his gaze from Resilience’s soul.

For a good five minutes, there was only the sound of cutlery scraping against plates and the clinking of glasses. Resilience only took one pancake, heedless of the way the others took at least two or more. He didn’t have any toppings and ignored Patton’s concerned glances.

“So, Nico texted Thomas today,” Patton said finally.

Resilience thought of the name Nico, and immediately got flooded with images of a gorgeous man with dark, curly hair and chocolate eyes behind a pair of glasses. He remembered a mall, and Deceit swirling around in Thomas’ mind and hissing ways for him to get out of situations; Creativity and Anxiety following Thomas through the shops; all three of them freaking out the moment Nico approached.

Resilience frowned. Creativity looked different in these memories. Somehow younger, but Resilience instinctively knew that Thomas and Nico hadn’t been talking for that long.

“First time in what, three weeks?” Virgil grumbled.

“It’s better than never!” Patton pointed out.

Deceit hummed, but Resilience wasn’t sure if he was in agreement or not.

Patton’s tactic worked, and the silence was soon broken with idle chatter. Resilience was happy to eat without offering any of his thoughts, but inevitably the topic changed to him.

“We should introduce Thomas to his new side,” Logan mused. “It’s imperative that we investigate what Resilience’s job consists of and how he helps Thomas.”

Resilience suddenly didn’t really like the thought of that. Meeting Thomas? What if Thomas didn’t like him? He had flashes of joyless grimaces and barely disguised winces, but that was odd given Resilience had never seen him in person.

“One thing at a time,” Patton said, standing from his finished meal and collecting empty plates. “Let’s focus on getting our newest member settled first. When he’s comfortable we can move on to working out how Resilience can help.”

Anxiety stood up abruptly as Patton moved into the kitchen.

“Well, Thomas manifested him for a reason,” he said with an accusatory point at Resilience. “He obviously needs him now.”

“None of us appeared to Thomas unless we were ready for it,” Deceit interjected smoothly.

Anxiety gave in and Resilience fought the urge to flee from the table and back upstairs.

“Do you feel any urge to do anything for Thomas?” Logic asked, turning a curious look down at Resilience.

“What do you mean?” Resilience asked, shuffling on the chair.

“For example, Creativity’s expertise is Thomas’ passions and dreams,” Logic said readily. “He specialises in Thomas’ creative pursuits. He aids Thomas in tasks such as script and song writing and performance.”

Resilience thought that sounded great – he wished that was his job!

Creativity didn’t seem to be in agreement. He stood with a screeching sound from his chair legs. He didn’t turn his murderous gaze upon anyone but Resilience still felt like turning invisible. Wordlessly, Creativity turned and stormed out of the room. Though Resilience was shaken by his reaction, Logic continued without addressing it.

“Anxiety and Deceit take care of different parts of Thomas’ self-preservation. Morality primarily oversees Thomas’ emotions, among other things.”

“What do you do?” Resilience asked, excited.

Logic’s eyebrows raised, but his expression smoothed. “As Thomas’ Logic, I organise his schedules and keep him on track with any projects or responsibilities he has to commit to.”

“What’s that like?” Resilience asked, his eyes sparkling.

Deceit and Anxiety left as Logic began to talk about his function and jobs. Resilience listened with rapt attention, uncaring for the way Anxiety tucked himself onto the couch and Deceit disappeared down the door he’d led Resilience out of the day before.

Somehow, the conversation veered off into the weirdest questions Resilience could think to ask, and each time, without fail, Logic answered him in depth without a hint of annoyance or tiredness. He seemed just as interested in the topics as Resilience was.

Resilience hadn’t even realised how much time had passed before Patton came over to them with a plate of sandwiches.

“Boys!” he laughed, cutting their conversation about the human circulatory system short. “You’ve been at this for hours!”

He placed the plates between them. “Logic, didn’t you want to assist with Thomas’ new work calendar?”

Logic cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “Of course.”

He stood and moved for the staircase, but Patton called after him, offering him a slice. “Here, take something for the road.”

“I will be alright,” Logic said.

Patton’s expression turned sad. “Lo. C’mon, I know you haven’t been eating.”

Logic sighed but took the sandwich before leaving.

Resilience watched him walk away, still reeling from their hour-long conversation. He thought of how Patton had described him the night before and felt like he was starting to agree. Resilience grinned up at Patton, who winked at him.

“What do I do now?” Resilience asked, following Patton back into the kitchen.

“Whatever you like, kiddo!” Patton chirped.

Resilience looked around. There was a television in the living room, but Anxiety was still on the couch, and Resilience wasn’t sure that would be entirely comfortable. And it wasn’t like he had a room to go play around in…

“Can I help you?” he asked. Patton seemed taken by surprise, but he led Resilience into the kitchen where he began drying the dishes Patton scrubbed. They worked in companionable silence for a bit.

“How come everyone works to help Thomas but you get stuck in the kitchen?” Resilience asked.

Patton laughed. “I’m not stuck here! I enjoy making everyone meals and washing up.” Resilience wrinkled his nose, not convinced. “It gives me something to focus on. Looking after them looks after Thomas, after all.”

Resilience didn’t have a way to respond to that, but he didn’t argue.

“Can we bake something?” he asked once the kitchen was clean.

Patton smiled down at him. “What would you like to bake?”

Resilience hesitated.

Patton took in his unsure expression and huffed in amusement. “What about some good old cookie batches, hm?”

“Chocolate chip?” Resilience asked, bouncing on his feet.

“Go into the fridge and find them, then,” Patton chuckled, rifling around in the cabinets for other ingredients.

After another hour, a flour covered Patton brought the baked cookies from the oven. Resilience, equally as covered in flour, reached out to snatch one. Patton whacked his hand back.

“Careful!” he laughed. “They’re still hot.”

Resilience grumbled to himself. Patton elbowed his shoulder good-naturedly.

“Why don’t you go clean yourself up a bit?” he suggested. “Get all that out of your hair.”

Resilience giggled as Patton tussled his locks and sent flour flying to the floor. Patton’s smile went sad, but Resilience wasn’t sure why. Patton’s hands lingered in Resilience’s fringe, even as flour fell from his head into his eyes.

Resilience dutifully left the kitchen to clean up but hesitated when he passed the dark door that led downstairs. What was down there? Surely it wasn’t just the room Resilience had woken up in.

He reached for the doorknob.

The door opened and Resilience leapt backwards.

Deceit was in the doorway, glaring down at him.

“What were you doing?” he demanded.

“Nothing!” Resilience squeaked. Deceit’s scowl deepened. He leaned forward and Resilience scurried backwards.

“Don’t go down there,” Deceit said in a growl. “Never take one step into the subconscious.”

“I-I wasn’t –!” stammered Resilience.

“Ever,” Deceit hissed.

Resilience swallowed.

Deceit’s mismatched eyes glowered down at him until he backed away and scrambled upstairs to the bathroom.

He clawed the flour from his hair and swiped at it when it fell into his face. He couldn’t explain the frustration that boiled in his stomach at the white streaks the flour had left in his curls. Tufts of hair came out in his hands.

He wondered what would happen if he ripped out all of his hair. Would his scalp bleed? How long would it all take to clean up? Would Patton come in months later and still find a bloody lock on the tile?

Resilience blinked at himself in the mirror, startled. Where had those thoughts come from?

Resilience sat down on the edge of the bathtub. He held his head in his hands, suddenly feeling impossibly exhausted. He couldn’t explain why.

His tail wrapped around to flop into his lap. He ran his fingers through its soft fur in a self-soothing gesture.

There was a knock on the door. Resilience jumped.

“Resilience?” came Logic’s voice. “Are you in there?”

“The door’s unlocked,” Resilience called hollowly.

“May I enter?” Logic asked.

Resilience blinked. He thought that was what he had said.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

The door creaked open. Logic peered in. upon seeing Resilience hunched over on the tub edge, he emerged further.

“Are you alright?” Logic asked.

“Yeah,” Resilience said again, rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

Logic looked unconvinced, but he didn’t say so. He walked in and leaned casually against the bathroom counter.

“We were just… baking,” Resilience said.

“You and Patton?” Logic asked.

Resilience nodded. “It was fun. We had a flour battle.”

Logic cast an indignant look at the specks of flour scattered across the tiles and the remnants still caught in his clothes and hair.

“I can see that,” he mused dryly. Resilience tried to smile but it felt like a grimace.

“What happened?” Logic pried. “Did you have a disagreement?”

“No!” Resilience said. “I… I don’t know what happened.”

Logic’s expression softened with sympathy. “Well, why don’t we clean up the bathroom and put your clothes through the laundry –”

“No!” Resilience exploded. Logic rocked back, affronted. Resilience ducked his head and grasped the sweater between his fingers. “Patton gave me this.”

Logic inclined his head. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear in the meantime. You can change right back the moment the sweater is clean.”

Resilience hesitated. “You sure?”

“Undeniably,” Logic said with a deft nod.

Resilience mulled it over. The… heh… logic seemed sound. “Okay.”

Logic wet a hand towel and began to run it through Resilience’s face and head, taking extra care around his flicking ears. He wiped the mess away completely, and it cooled the heat in Resilience’s face and calmed his thudding heart.

Logic brought Resilience out from the bathroom and into the dark blue door that he and Patton had passed. Logic led Resilience in and over to the closet.

“You may find something of mine to wear while we wash your current clothes.”

Resilience curiously began to investigate Logic’s clothes. There were a lot of ties… polo shirts… more ties…

Resilience wrinkled his nose. None of these were really catching his eye –

“What is THIS!” he shrieked suddenly, lunging for a dark blue pencil skirt. He slipped it from the coat hanger and whirled around to stare up at Logic, who was suddenly flushing a light shade of pink.

“That is. Uh.” He adjusted his already perfectly aligned tie. “Ahem.”

“Do you wear this?” Resilience gasped, his tail swiping back and forth in excitement.

“Only once,” admitted Logic. “It was… rather embarrassing.”

“Why?” Resilience damned, frowning. “Did you get bullied?”

“No,” Logic said, almost shocked. Resilience felt his shoulders relax. The others hadn’t seemed particularly judgemental or nasty, but they had definitely all been tense, and it was too easy to imagine sneers being thrown back and forth and harsh words cutting deep. “It was a project of Thomas’. All of his sides wore a skirt of their design.”

Resilience turned the skirt over in his hands. Logan followed the movement.

“Would… you like to wear it?” he offered.

“Can I?” Resilience asked.

Logic bent down and peered carefully at it. “It may be slightly too big for you…”

Resilience wilted. “Oh…”

Logic straightened up and took the skirt from his hands. “I’m sure we can make some adjustments.”

“But won’t that ruin it for you?” Resilience asked.

Logic waved him off dismissively and moved over to his desk. “I was never going to wear it after the photoshoot.”

“Photos!” Resilience echoed in a squeal, bounding after him. Logic pulled back from where he was aiming his lamp down onto the skirt as if he was already mentally applying measurements.

“Um,” he said, astonishingly incoherent.

“Can you show me photos?” Resilience asked.

Logic cleared his throat, continuing to study the skirt. “Of?”

“Of you wearing the skirt!” Resilience chirped. Logic sighed.

“I… suppose,” he grumbled.

Resilience giggled.

Logic passed him his phone and began to sketch ideas to adjust the skirt on a notepad.

Resilience hopped up and down, excited. He scrolled through the pictures Logic had brought up for him. A near-unrecognisable Logic in the same pencil skirt and a patterned vest. His glasses had been switched. He looked a bit like a librarian – but one that was having fun.

“Oh, Logic, you look so cool!” he said.

Logic looked up. Resilience didn’t know why he looked so surprised until he said, “My name is Logan.”

Resilience calmed, looking at him in earnest. Logan continued without too much of a pause.

“Patton informed us of your unawareness about our names before you arrived for breakfast this morning. We came to the decision to only go by our functions for a period of time.”

“Why?” Resilience asked.

“In an attempt not to overwhelm or confuse you with our names and our functions. Also our names are…” Logan shifted. “Quite personal things. We agreed we would each tell you in our own time, when we felt most comfortable.”

“And…” Resilience sat on the bed, fidgeting with Logan’s phone. “You’re comfortable with me?”

“Of course.” Logan turned and continued to work on the skirt. “You are a bright, curious side of Thomas’ personality. I enjoy your company.”

Resilience beamed.

The pair of them worked on designs and an hour later Logan was talking Resilience through where to cut and sew. Resilience managed to convince Logan to lend him one of his black polo shirts, too, which he cut by himself.

By dinner, Resilience walked downstairs at Logan’s side, wearing a self-cut crop top and Logan’s old pencil skirt.

“Tada!” Resilience said, jumping in front of Patton.

“Oh, look at you!” Patton gasped, putting down his fork. “Is that…?”

He looked up at Logan, who shrugged, seemingly nonchalantly but Resilience could tell he was self-conscious. Patton smiled.

“Well, now that you’re here and finally clean –” He pinched Resilience’s cheek, causing him to squeal with laughter and dart away “– you can both help me finish dinner.”

“Ooo!” Resilience scurried immediately back, peering into a pot. “What is it?”

“Pasta and garlic bread,” Patton answered, shooing him back from the hot stove. “Help Logic set the table.”

Resilience hadn’t seen Deceit arrive but suddenly he was behind Patton in the kitchen. He hissed a near-silent Boo! into Patton’s ear.

Patton shrieked and shot into the air in an impressive leap. Resilience cackled, rocking back on his feet and bumping against the table. The noise gained him Patton and Deceit’s attention. The amusement in Deceit’s eyes dimmed, but Patton made an offensive noise, oblivious.

“Alright, you little gremlin, come here!” He darted over, reaching for Resilience as he scrambled away, shrieking.

Resilience escaped Patton by darting around Logan and shooting under the table. Patton eventually gave up to help Deceit tend to dinner. Resilience ventured out, safe from Patton’s wrath, and Logan scuffed him gently over the head, sending him a playfully scolding look. Resilience grinned shamelessly.

Resilience hadn’t noticed that Anxiety had no longer been on the couch earlier until he came downstairs, his purple headphones around his neck.

His shifty eyes darted about the room, his brows furrowing.

“Where’s Princey?” he mumbled.

Patton’s smile that had appeared with whatever Deceit had been saying immediately dropped. He shot Logan a pained look, which was probably supposed to be quick and subtle but Resilience caught anyway.

Logan, however, seemed fully aware of Resilience looking between them, listening intently.

“He is probably just another… quest,” he said carefully.

Now that didn’t seem remotely true, but the air had gone quiet and tense, so Resilience wasn’t about to call it. Acting as oblivious as he could, he leapt up into his seat and turned a bright smile on Patton. “Is dinner ready?”

It worked like a charm. Anxiety unfroze from his spot at the base of the stairs and moved over to his seat. Deceit and Patton brought over the pot of pasta and plate of garlic bread.

Resilience couldn’t help but tell the table about his day, how he’d made cookies with Patton – and he still hadn’t eaten them yet! Nooo! He’d forgotten all about it! (“You can have a couple for dessert,” Patton assured him) – and spent time designing his newest outfit with Logan… only because his sweater had been drenched in flour.

Logan and Patton smiled and nodded along, which helped. Deceit and Anxiety, while appearing to be politely listening, didn’t seem particularly enthused about the conversation. Anxiety kept his focus on his food and Deceit rarely reacted beyond bemused arched eyebrows every once and a while.

Despite his enthusiastic energy spike before and during dinner, by the time Anxiety was helping Patton clear the table of leftovers and dirty plates, Resilience suddenly didn’t feel like eating those cookies.

He stared down at his hands, clasped in his lap.

Had he done something wrong? Anxiety and Deceit seemed to get along just fine with Logan and Patton. It just seemed like whenever Resilience was in the room their moods dropped one hundred degrees. It made Resilience feel like there were termites squirming around inside him. He shuddered at the thought.

“Resilience?” Logan said, bringing him out of his own head. “Are you alright?”

Resilience met his gaze and thought about how he had been scared of Logan at first, and now how he looked concerned for his well being. His eyes narrowed in determination.

“I will be,” he said with a hilarious amount of weight.

Logan hummed in satisfaction and Resilience smiled to himself.

Tomorrow, he was absolutely going to be chasing down Anxiety.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #original characters #long post #cross posted on ao3 #sympathetic sides