#I was thinking maybe a small bowler hat but idk :’)

[stars-on-fyre]

Obsessed with this frog I drew :’)

Just a little fella :’)

[roseianxiety]

Janus cant cook shit

Roceit Week 2023, Day 4: Comfort

Content Warning: Food mention

Author's Note: Ngl, i just recycled this lil thing. Idk if it relates to the prompt but meh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Hope y'all like it though!

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He was almost done writing his script, now all he had to do was proofread and revise and he will be done with it in no time. Roman just needed to add some extra dialogue and other details so it would be perfectly perfect. But it seems that destiny wouldn't let him do so when he suddenly heard a loud thud and clattering coming from the kitchen followed by a foul smell... was something burning!? Well, this is not good… he thought. He immediately got up from his chair and rushed to the kitchen to check out the situation there, but what greeted him on the other side made him stop dead on his track. He froze like a statue and just stared at the scene before him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Roman asked incredulously as he watched his lover, Janus gingerly trying to put out a small fire that was raging in the pan on top of the stove, dumping a glass of water on it and completely extinguishing the fire before looking at Roman. And Roman had just noticed what Janus' current state was. He didn't have his bowler hat on and his hair was a mess, half covered with what looked like flour. The apron he was wearing was stained and dirtied and so were his clothes for some reason. 

"... hi. I was just, cooking you something, darling." Janus said nonchalantly, leaning close on the counter and batting their eyelashes at their boyfriend. "I might have made a slight mess in the kitchen though". They added sheepishly. 

" Jan... You almost burned down our kitchen." Roman sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "And how did you even get that butter up the ceiling!?" He wondered aloud and pointed at the ceiling, where said butter was.

Janus blinked owlishly for a moment at him, "Magic?—".

Roman sighs again and approached his beloved, " Why are you even cooking? Not gonna lie, you suck at it.". That made Janus pause for a bit and he pouted at Roman, "Well, duh. Cooking isn't my thing... I was trying to do something for you." He says and Roman has to bite his lip to keep from smiling. It seemed like Janus did try to do something for him, but it seemed like they did not succeed at that. 

“You didn’t need to cook me anything," They said coyly fluttered their eyelashes once more, making Roman smile fondly. "You can, but next time, don't burn down the kitchen." He says as he gently places his hands on Janus' hips.

"You're starting to sound like Logan–"

"Oh shut up, bananaconda."

"But actually though, what were you trying to cook?" Roman added curiously, looking at Janus intently, his gaze softening a little. Janus looked away and blushed, hiding behind his hair.

"Oh... it's something you like," Janus replied with an almost shy smile. "I was trying to cook your favorite pasta. Had to ask Patton for the recipe."  They admitted sheepishly and Roman felt like melting on the spot. Janus wanted to cook him his favorite dish.  Well, he didn't know if he deserved this kind of treatment after everything. But then again, he couldn't help but think about it. Maybe Janus does care about him. 

"Goddamn, I love you." Roman blurts out as he stared lovingly at Janus who looked away again, embarrassed at Roman's sudden outburst but also happy. Roman leaned forward and kissed their cheek, "Come here, let's clean the kitchen then I can help you cook the pasta.". He murmured softly. 

•••

The aroma of marinara sauce filled the kitchen as it was heated up in a pan, Roman was stirring it carefully while Janus watched him like a lovestruck fool (which he indeed is). Roman hummed happily as he stirred the sauce while Janus stood right beside him. Roman glanced sideways at his beloved, "Are you just going to stand there and be pretty instead of giving me a hand?" Roman asked playfully. 

"Why yes~" Janus purred and wrapped his arm around Roman's waist to pull him closer, resting his chin on Roman's shoulder. "I love a man who can cook. And I absolutely adore seeing this side of you where you're not being loud and obnoxious, it feels surreal." He added with a teasing smile. Roman rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. 

"Are you trying to insult me, Janus?" Roman asks amused and turns off the burner before he turns towards Janus, placing their foreheads together, "If that's the case then I'm afraid you're going to have to pay a price for it." Roman threatened as his hands slowly moved upwards to cup their face tenderly, caressing it with a soft touch. Janus leaned closer to try and kiss Roman but the other suddenly pulled away. 

"Anyway, why don't you get the pasta for me, mi amor?" Roman suggested with a cheeky smile on his lips. Janus huffed in slight annoyance after being left hanging but complied, walking over to the counter where they left aside the pasta and handing it over to Roman.  Roman took it and thanked him before continuing to prepare the marinara pasta. 

"I, for one, didn't even think you had the ability to cook," Janus commented as he hopped onto the counter while they continue to admire each other. 

Roman hums in response, getting some plates from the cupboards. "How so". He questioned and Janus shrugged nonchalantly before replying. “I don't know… I thought you're too much of a dumbass to know how to cook.”. Janus snickered at the end and Roman turned to glare at them softly. "Hey!" He protested softly and Janus giggled. "Stop laughing at me." He grumbled, causing Janus to burst out in laughter. Roman was quick to follow, joining Janus in laughter.

When their laughter subsided, Roman spoke again. "Anyway, I'm done with the pasta, why don't you try it?" He says, setting a plate of marinara pasta beside Janus before handing him a fork. Janus takes the offered utensil and dug into the food, making a noise of delight when they tasted it. Roman grinned as he watched Janus eat. 

"Is it good?"

"No, it sucks." Janus chirps but continued to eat the pasta. Roman looked at him unimpressed by his answer. 

Janus smirked, waving the other off. "Of-fucking-course, it tastes good. It's delicious, like the cook." He teased him playfully. "Mmhm… sure…" Roman scoffed and rolled his eyes as Janus giggled. He then took the fork from Janus' hand (earning him a complaint from the other) and tasted the pasta. 

"It is indeed, delicious. I'm such a great cook, unlike a certain snek boi." Roman grins proudly while side-eyeing the deceitful façet who let out a gasp at his statement. "Excuse you! How dare you accuse me of being a terrible cook!" Janus whined with mock offense. "I still haven't shown my hidden cooking skill yet!". 

"Oh yeah?" Roman raised an eyebrow challengingly at them, crossing his arms across his chest. "Almost burning down the kitchen is definitely a cooking skill." he points out with amusement and Janus let out another whine pouting playfully. "Oh, you wound me, Roman! How could you!" He exclaimed dramatically, causing Roman to laugh again.

Janus jumped off the counter and wrapped his arms around the other's neck. "But I guess I can't deny the fact that you are an amazing cook," Janus admits, looking up at Roman with a soft smile. Roman chuckled and wrapped his arms around Janus' waist.

"Good, because I plan on cooking for you more often," Roman said with a grin. "And maybe teach you too, heh.". Janus leaned in and placed a kiss on Roman's lips, causing the other to blush.

"I would love that," Janus said, pressing a feather-light kiss on the other's jaw. They pulled away from each other after a moment and went to eat the pasta they cooked then clean up the kitchen, the two of them working in comfortable silence.

As they finished up, Janus leaned against the counter and watched as Roman washed the dishes. "You know, I'm glad we did this," Janus said, breaking the silence. "It was nice to spend time with you like this.". Roman looked up at him and smiled. "I'm glad too, Janus. I always have a good time with you."

Janus smiled back and walked over to Roman, wrapping his arms around the other's waist. "I love you," Janus whispered, resting his head against Roman's shoulder.

Roman wrapped his arms around Janus and leaned into him. "I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to Janus' forehead. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other's company before finally pulling away and finishing up the last of the dishes.

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Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)

@roceit2023

[golden--doodler]

if you ever wanted to share genderfluid gene headcanons i would like to hear them 👀👀

Oh my gosh thank you 😭

I would absolutely love to share some Genderfluid headcanons about my baby boy!

--I like to think that when he's older and figured out his identity, his pronouns might be He/She/They :3 (idk, I just get that kind of vibe from him).

--This is basically canon already, but he adores dresses, way more than suits. He only ever tolerates wearing men's formal wear. Really, the only time he actually enjoyed wearing one was when he was playing Hans Gruber in Work Hard Or Die Trying, Girl. He definitely believes that dresses make women look more powerful than suits make men look more powerful. And he thinks they have so much more variety. He threw a fit once when Bob and Linda tried to make him wear a suit to a fancy event, and he didn't feel like tolerating masculinity/gender norms that night. So, they compromised, and he wore a fancy black shirt with a bowtie on top and a long black skirt. People stared, and most likely made fun in secret, but he was very happy.

--I stole this from your Genderfluid Gene fic, but whenever he's feeling dysphoric, Tina and Louise like to tell him he's a secret agent and has to go undercover and pretend to be a boy. It sounds silly, but it really helps him.

--This is honestly kind of ridiculous and silly, but I like to think that one of the earliest memories he had of questioning his gender was when he watched Dora the Explorer when he was really young and he just remembers wanting to be Dora so bad and solving them mysteries 😭 He begged Bob and Linda to let him be Dora that Halloween.

--The way he first figured out the label Genderfluid applied to him was he ended up reading one of Tina's erotic friend fictions that she left on her desk unsupervised one afternoon. She made one of the characters Genderfluid, and the gears just started turning in his brain, and he came to the sudden realization that he felt Genderfluid himself.

--His ultimate dream is to be cast in a female role for a musical. One of his dream roles is Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors. Another one is, of course, Anna of Cleves in Six.

--Whenever he feels Nonbinary, he likes to joke around and say that restrooms are a scam. But no matter what, he absolutely does not enjoy the men's restroom. He always says it's a warzone in there. He's probably never used a urinal in his life, and doesn't plan to. He enjoys stall privacy.

--He's definitely going to want to wear a wedding dress if/when he gets married, and he will look incredible that day. He also always begs to be a bridesmaid/maid of honor whenever he gets invited to someone else's wedding.

--One of the only traditionally masculine things he enjoys is maybe baseball if you could even call that traditionally masculine. He hates playing catch with the ball itself (we all know how playing catch with Bob went) but he really enjoys playing the actual game. He can get quite competitive, especially if he's playing with Tina and Louise.

--Another small, silly thing, but he switches things with Louise all of the time. A canon example is when they switched the bowler hat and flapper feather with each other (very adorable moment). Whenever anyone hands Gene a traditional "boy" thing and Louise a traditional "girl" thing, like colored balloons or anything else of the sort, they always swap, because screw gender norms. It always makes them feel very affirmed. After a while, certain people they know began catching on and giving them gifts they'd prefer more, but most of the time people still get it wrong.

--Building on the above headcanon, one time, an ice cream shop worker accidentally gave him bright pink, cotton candy ice cream, and he deemed it the best dessert moment he's ever had. He even convinced the worker to top it with pink M&Ms.

--Another thing I stole from your Genderfluid Gene fic, but he definitely goes to Tammy for fashion advice after she's warmed up to him somewhat. She even agreed to braid a strand of his hair once, and in return, he helped her paint her nails (he picked up the skill by helping Tina do hers on occasion).

--His favorite show when he was really young was Sofia the First, because of that one episode where they challenged gender roles and gender norms.

[shadowling-guistical]

Sit and Bleed.

Roman asks Remus for advice, and Remus delivers. In his own, mildly disturbing way. Somehow, bonding ensues.

Yeah idk either. I shared this to one of my friends and they said, and I quote, "Hey mishi i love you but wtf? Did remus posess you?"

So like, enjoy?

WARNING: Extensive blood talk, period talk, mild injury, mild gore, and generally just canon typical Remus shenanigans.

---

"Do you think that it's true?" Roman had asked him one day, "That writing is easy? That you could just sit at a typewriter and… And bleed?"

It had been dusk, and somehow, Roman had Imaginationed the setting sun to send it's final rays streaking across his room. From where Remus had been lying, splayed out on Roman's carpet like a human sacrifice waiting for a malevolent god, it looked sickeningly beautiful. The gold that bathed the room, the warmth and splendour, he thought it was just saccharinely horrid.

Roman turned his chair to face him. Remus turned his head. A heartbeat turned into two before he scoffed.

"Please," Remus idly picked his nose, rolling the products he found jammed up in his sniffer into a small hard ball and flicked it off to god knows where. He hoped it landed on Roman's pillow. "If writing were that easy, I'd twist my foot off and feed it to Virgil's tarantula,"

"It used to be,"

Remus sighed, swinging his legs up before he leapt onto his feet with a soft oof. Roman went back to his writing, ignoring the sound of Remus' spine popping when he straightened himself. The Duke sauntered to Roman's desk, looking over his shoulder to see…

Nothing.

Well, nothing substantial .

Bits of writing here, a doodle there, scratched out ideas at the corner, angry scribbles at another…Oof.

His twin must have noticed, because Roman’s tone was bitter.

“Not anymore,”

"Yeah well," Remus muttered, thinking of glittering yellow eyes filled with mischief and a sly smirk underneath a shadowy hood, "A lot of other things used to be easy too,"

"Well? What do you think?"

Riiiiight, typewriting and bleeding. Remus scoffed, "Well willya lookit that. You never asked me before, why start now?"

Roman groaned, "... Remus I’m serious here,"

"Hey! It's true," Remus swiped the paper and crumpled it into a ball. Without looking, he threw it over the shoulder. Roman scowled when he sees it bounce onto his bed, "What's up, Prince stink-a-lot? You ask me to come hang out. You didn't kick me out when I wiped boogers onto that skinned angora cat you call a carpet, and now you're asking me questions? What gives?"

"...it's just…"

God, it’s just this and it’s just that , Remus wanted to pull his hair out already. He wished Roman would just spit it out. Just vomit it out and get this over with. Really, getting his stupid twin to just spew whatever was rattling in that noggin if his was worse than pulling teeth out of a gator. And Remus would know, he tried it a lot over the years.

"I just wanted to be like you,"

And there it was, whatever thing that had been sitting in his twin’s gut like a 5 foot long tapeworm.

…

Like him.

Like Remus.

The Duke of Dastardly Deeds.

Mr. Dark and Disgusting himself.

Roman "Pretty Boy" Sanders wanted to be like him?

Remus leaned forward, far more amused than shocked.

"...You're fucking with me,"

"No, I am not," Roman was looking at him with those intense green eyes of his and woah… the guy really was serious, wasn't he?

Huh.

Curiosity reared it's head, familiar and cloying somewhere inside of Remus'  stomach. Then again, it could have been the extra potent shaving cream he had over his deodorant earlier today. Who fucking knows.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Because… You've always made it look so… easy," Shaking hands ran through unruly curls, "It comes easier for you than it did for me. Always did. Just— How do you do it, Remus?"

The other twin considered it for a moment.

Had it really? Admittedly, Remus didn’t really notice it. He hummed. Sit on a typewriter and let yourself bleed , huh?

Well. He apparently had a crisis to handle.

Remus leaned against Roman's desk. Lightly, he ran rough, clumsy fingers on a splotch of dried ink absorbed into wood.

The tone that his Other Half (Don't make it weird Tumblr, he didn't mean that way. So put those pitchforks down and back away. Thanks.) had used while gesturing to the stack of papers and feather quills on his desk now morphed into disgust, "it feels like I just don't have any flowing in me anymore,"

"Well duh," long, dirty fingernails tapped against polished wood, "It's because bleeding isn't supposed to be easy, you doofus," He sighed, and Roman’s expression caused him to nearly want to groan and drape himself over the table. God, it was so fucking obvious that Roman really had no idea, did he? "You know, If you wanna go all gross metaphor with me, you gotta at least not half ass it,"

"Okay, but half ass it how? That how the saying goes,"

With all the tact and delicacy of a blunt axe, Roman’s words were cut off.

"Then it's a shit saying,"Before Roman could protest, "Look do you want me to help or not? Yeah? Then good. Just shut up for a sec and spill the juicy details," Pause, "Okay, what do you know about periods?"

Roman stiffened, obviously beginning to not like where the conversation was steered to. Because not even Jesus could take the wheel when Remus was behind it. However, Roman reluctantly let his shoulders relax when his twin brushed him off with an eye roll. Cautiously, because Remus still needs to be handled much like a skunk would.

"Remus— “

"Oh just relax. This is going somewhere. Trust me. And I won't do any shit I can't clean up. Just answer the question,"

Roman looked queasy, but swallowed heavily. He supposed he did ask, "I guess, just what Thomas learned in Sex Ed,"

Hm, he could work with that.

"So absolutely shit! Great! I just love the educational system in Florida. Wonderful. Wish the Nerdy Wolverine was here to tell you. But you only got me so it'll have to do— Should've prepared a whole musical number about it too—"

Remus held out his palms, and Roman sees the skin tighten. It strained and stretched before it ripped into a bloody gash.  Roman grimaced, the other unperturbed. In fact, he daresay Remus looked curious. Like he was mulling over what to say.

"Eh, Follow up— Have" Remus let the blood pool into his cupped hands. A tablespoonful turned into a cupful and soon it was overflowing. He tipped his hand so that the blood dribbled down. Drip drip drip, a small stream of blood hit the floor in splatters, "Have you seen it before? Period blood?"

"What?” Oh god, he feels like he could gag, “Gross—! No of course not,"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Unfeminist much?" The dry tone was met with protest.

"I'm not!—" Roman spluttered, "I don't go around looking for what comes out of people's pants, Remus!"

"Yeah yeah, but did you know they're chunky though?"

"I— What the fuck Remus?"

"Just...humour me for a sec. So they're chunky," Remus sort of flicked his hand, sending smaller droplets flying. A particularly large droplet streaked across Roman’s floor, "Thick goopy, disgusting— Hey, think of that the next time you scoop out some Crofters eh?"

Well, there nearly goes Roman's lunch.

"Oh god.” He pushed down the tickle at the back of his throat, “Please don't— Just, get to the point,"

"Okay okay. Jeez. The point is," two scarred, calloused hands rubbed together, letting the blood smear, "Is that even blood flows differently,"

The hands raised up, tinged red and both of them marred with an angry, red, jagged tear.

"Look at this shit. See? Not everything that comes out is the same. Some places will drip. Others flow and some? They're chunky. That's just how it is. you can't expect chunky blood to flow as easily as fresh blood,"

Without letting Roman mull on the morbid metaphor, he ploughed on.

"Oh yeah— And blood coagulates. It dries up and turns to scab. It won't stay bleeding forever. It's not supposed to. And expecting it to is just stupid, so write that down with your fancy quill,"

Blinking, Roman's mind slowly caught up with him.

Flowing blood and drying and scabbing— He soon deflated.

Oh.

Oh…

He just watched wordlessly as Remus wiped his hand against the fabric of his outfit. Flakes of dried blood sprinkled down joining the droplets on the ground like some sort of morbid snow.

" And just in case you forget, because of course you do. Scabbing is good. Personal experience guaranteed. It heals things. Plus…" the hand with the cut waved again. Exaggeratedly, mockingly, and even Roman couldn't help but to crack a smile, "You gotta make a pretty deep cut if you wanna bleed a lot,"

Maybe Roman was imagining the softer tone that Remus had let bleed into his voice.

"And if you bleed a lot, you gotta let yourself scab,"

A long, slow exhale.

He had to let himself scab.

"And… You've kinda been bleeding a lot, didn’tcha?"

"I…" Roman swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "...Yeah...I think so,"

"Been making some huge cut lately to get it flowing?…"

"...Mmmm…" Shaking breaths, fragile and soft. Okay… okay… "Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you… do you think I can… I should—"

Should he stop?

"... Course you could, you stupid bleeding heart…" a hand found itself in Roman's hair, gently carding it. Really, almost petting it, "...But fuck Ro, if that isn't the thing we all love about you, you doof. Of course you can. And you should. In fact, I am telling you to,"

Hesitantly, a pair of arms circled themselves over Roman's shoulder, pulling him close.

Remus didn't mention it when he saw broad shoulders decorated in tassels begin to  shake. He didn't pay attention to the soft sobs that sent a Prince, unwavering and strong, shaking. He didn't care about the way Roman's face had crumpled.

"It's time to let it scab, Roman. And try not to pick at it too much,”

Outside, the figure that had been leaning against the door for the better part of the last 10 minutes smiled.

Heh… Credit where credit's due, he supposed.

He tilted his bowler hat forward and began walking down the hallway. No need to worry.

Who knew that the Duke had it in him.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Storytime!

Sanders Sides Canon Divergence AU - fluff/angst - hurt/comfort - some intrigue - actually has a plot (side eyes my other fics) - largely Virgil centric - it’s about growth i guess idk

Words: 4,329 Warnings: Big-ass spiders, food. Characters: Virgil, Patton, Roman, Logan, Janus, (Remus Mentioned) Universe: Storytime! Genre: Suspense but only about how much longer they’ll all be oblivious

Chapter 28: In Which Logan Totally Meant to be Shady This Time

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

   Deceit sighed and looked down at Virgil wrapped around him in the morning. He got distracted by that stupid story and didn’t figure out what was happening before Virgil passed out for the final time that evening. Remus was very obedient this morning with Virgil still sleeping again, but he was deeply annoyed at the both of them. They could have blown everything. He held his face in his hands and groaned. This absolute and complete buffoon better wake up soon.

   Deceit gently ruffled his hair, trying to pull him out of sleep gently. It had been plenty of time for Virgil to sleep in. He was probably tired from making his needlessly big new pet, still. But his anxiety churned more lazily in him today, shifting against Deceit’s palm on Virgil’s back. It was at least an excellent sign for Virgil. And potentially Deceit if he accidentally woke him too quickly.

   “Virgil,” Deceit hummed quietly. Virgil shifted gently in Deceit’s arm and his eyes fluttered open slowly. Virgil yawned and squeezed Deceit tight before letting go and stretching. “Virgil, what in the world were you thinking running off with Remus in the middle of the meeting?” Deceit groaned.

   “That I wasn’t in the mood to be stabbed because Ream is too impatient to wait. Pat doesn’t want to see that, and he would have had to go through Roman, it would have been a bloodbath,” Virgil yawned again and leaned back onto the bed with his legs still on the floor. “And I was going to go see him later anyway, to write that story with him.”

   “That’s not what I mean, Virgil, Roman and Patton are still afraid of Remus and you ran off with him like you were besst budss!” Deceit growled.

   “I don’t know about best buds, D… You know he scares the hell out of me half the time just to hear me scream, and we do kinda hurt each other just being nearby for too long,” Virgil groaned. “I mean we’re friends and all, but bes-”

   “I know you just woke up but for god’ss ssake!” Deceit hissed and slapped his hand up to his human half of his face and dragged it down in frustration. Virgil flinched at first, but instead of cowering as usual, he just moved to hug Deceit again.

   “How are they supposed to stay afraid of a guy who the literal embodiment of fear just ran off with? Remus even helped Pat last night by not letting them wake me,” Virgil said nonchalantly and stifled a yawn. Deceit froze. Oh, god, was this idiot on to something? Oh, god, he was right. Virgil chuckled and nuzzled his neck. “You can always shut me up if you think I went too far. It’s been ages and every time I bring it up they shoot me down. I’m gonna show instead of tell,” Virgil said determinedly while wrapping himself around Deceit.

   “And when were you going to fill me in on your change of tacticss?” Deceit hissed in frustration.

   “I wasn’t thinking about it, honestly. I think I just rationalized it or something,” Virgil said with another small yawn and scratched the back of Deceit’s neck affectionately. “Sorry about changing your plans and all,” He mumbled. Deceit sighed deeply.

   “We can try it this inane way and repress their memories if it gets out of hand, I ssuppose,” Deceit conceded sourly.

   “Cool,” Virgil smiled and kissed Deceit’s scaled cheek. “Can we do tea later? Or maybe make fun of some more TV shows?” Virgil asked hopefully. This idiot. Deceit sighed again and flipped his hand to shoo Virgil.

   “Go to breakfast before you miss it again, Virgil,” Deceit rolled his eyes. Virgil flipped off Deceit’s hat and kissed the top of his head before smirking and sinking out. Deceit grumbled as he grabbed his hat off the bed and put it back on. That buffoon would be the death of him, damnit. Why did he keep letting Virgil get away with things?

— * * * — 

   Virgil saluted them as he popped into his breakfast chair.

   “’Sup, nerds. Sorry, I slept in late again,” He said and leaned against Roman. Roman was stiff at First, but reached up to ruffle Virgil’s hair. Virgil sat up and grumbled, fixing his bangs and gently elbowed Roman while he was at it.

   “I wasn’t aware you were… chummy with my brother, Virge,” Roman said slowly, sounding kind of off.

   “He’s not that bad, he’s actually pretty fun. Don’t you fight him all the time, Ro? He’s always talking about it,” Virgil asked, sneaking his hand up to also muss up Roman’s hair in revenge.

   “I’m fighting for honor and valor, not for fun!” Roman shot a glare at Virgil.

   “Ream doesn’t see it that way, he looks forward to it. I mean, shoves isn’t loves and all, but it’s his probably his weird love language other than sharing his interests,” Virgil explained and quickly messed with Roman’s hair in return. Roman huffed and summoned a comb.

   “But his interests are weird and horrible, kiddo!” Patton objected. “Don’t they scare you?”

   “My interests are weird and scary, to you too, Pat,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Of course he scares me, it’s my job to be scared of the stuff he talks about. It doesn’t mean we don’t get along,” Virgil shrugged slightly. “Sometimes, anyway.” He added.

   “Remus really looks forward to fighting with me?” Roman asked, seeming to have just processed what he said a moment ago.

   “Uh, yeah? So do I,” Virgil said and playfully jabbed at Roman’s side, who yelped and jabbed him back. “You’re fun to fight,” Virgil grinned evilly.

   “Boys, no fighting at the table!” Patton whined. That barely counted as even scuffling, but whatever. Virgil shrugged and backed away from Roman.

   “I don’t suppose any of you beautiful angels are interested in feeding me even though you’re all done eating?” Virgil asked sweetly, tapping the table.

   “I will make you a balanced breakfast, if that is what you want, Virgil,” Logan offered, putting down his paper.

   “I would love a properly balanced breakfast,” Virgil said and laughed gently, leaning back against Roman’s shoulder. Logan summoned a plate with fruit, a piece of Canadian bacon, and a small omelet full of vegetables. He pushed the plate towards Virgil, who accepted it excitedly. “Thanks, Lo-berry, I don’t suppose a slice of toast with some crofter’s on it is out of the question?” Logan looked surprised for a moment.

   “Grains are an important part of the diet,” Logan quickly said, summoning a piece of jam toast and placing it on the corner of Virgil’s plate.

   “Thanks,” Virgil excitedly reached for the toast to take a bite. “Oh my god, this is why you ate that whole jar,” Virgil moaned in appreciation and finished off the toast in seconds.

   “It is wonderful,” Roman said with a chuckle, trailing off a bit.

   “So you’re… okay?” Patton asked hesitantly.

   “Why wouldn’t I be?” Virgil asked before taking a bite of the omelet.

   “Well, you left with the duke and all,” Patton’s voice was full of concern.

   “We were mostly writing a story,” Virgil said proudly. “I mean, we fought a little. We always do,” He admitted a little sheepishly.

   “That’s it? Just a story and some scuffling? No… other stuff?” Patton asked worriedly.

   “No? There were no ‘unsavory things’ I wouldn’t mention at the breakfast table,” Virgil answered. At least, not that they were doing. On paper, definitely lots of unsavory things he would not mention at the breakfast table. Boy, did Remus fuck those kids up after Virgil trapped them one by one.

   “Well, as long as you’re safe, kiddo,” Patton said, still sounding a little concerned. Virgil scooted his plate and chair around the table a little closer to Patton and gave him a hug.

   “I’m safe, pops, you don’t have to worry. That’s my job,” Virgil said with a chuckle.

   “You do not seem overwrought today, Virgil,” Logan said evenly.

   “I’m plenty troubled about the stupid schedule and all the work. You’re just not the best face reader,” Virgil said cheerily and returned to enjoying his breakfast. He didn’t know why this pork was called Canadian bacon, but it was lean and sweet and he loved it. Oh god, does that mean he would like Hawaiian pizza? Oh no, that was something he needed to avoid trying at all costs.

   “You look like something just concerned you. See, I am perfectly capable of reading faces,” Logan objected sourly.

   “Pizza discourse is scary, Logan,” Virgil shot at him defensively.

   “Where in the wide world of sports did that come from, champ?” Patton asked and placed a hand on his shoulder.

   “The internet. Pat, will you show me how to knit a cap while Princey is being a writer extraordinaire with Thomas today? You know, so I don’t freak as much when Joan wants to make changes?” Virgil asked, pulling Patton into a small side hug while he continued breakfast.

   “That’s very proactive of you, Virgil,” Logan said plainly, but his eyebrow was raised in curiosity.

   “Wild, right?” Virgil chuckled. Maybe he could knit Deceit a beanie to thank him. And then Virgil could have Voltaire hide that stupid bowler hat.

   “Sure, kiddo!” Patton beamed. Roman punched Virgil on the shoulder and smiled.

   “Looking to be less of a pain in the ass today?” Roman asked playfully. Patton huffed and Roman flipped his hand to dismiss Patton’s objections. Virgil shrugged. It just sounded like something Patton would want. Deceit made it feel much easier to be who they wanted. Virgil frowned for a moment, kind of realizing what that meant. But went back to finishing his breakfast quickly. He’d get to lie on Patton and knit the rest of the morning. That was probably worth it.

—

   Virgil was laying in Patton’s lap, still trying to knit the hat, when he got a notification. The cap was a little more involved than the scarf was and it was taking a while. Deceit texted and offered to let Virgil join him for tea. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t that mad at him, which Virgil relished finding out. Unless it was a trap, but Virgil just couldn’t imagine that today. If he was honest with himself, it was weird that he couldn’t. When Deceit didn’t accept or reject him outright, Virgil was pretty scared that Virgil’s impulsive rationalizing pissed Deceit off. And then Virgil couldn’t be himself with D anymore, and he’d be stuck pretending with the others or intermittently fighting Remus. He was glad D wanted to hang out.

   “I’ve got to go, Pat,” Virgil said as he pulled off of Patton’s lap and brushed Patton’s hair off his temple for a light peck. “Can we finish this lesson later?”

   “Of course, Virge. I think I might need to go talk with Logan more directly about refusing to let Thomas take a break myself. He deserves one! You’ll get all upset again if Thomas goes too long, and it’s been a nice quiet morning,” Patton said with heavy determination. Patton smiled and kissed Virgil’s temple. Virgil smiled and nodded. That was really nice of Patton. And a maybe a little selfish. Thomas might fall behind if he took a break. But Logan probably had that handled, right?

   Virgil popped into his bedroom and was greeted by Voltaire in his face as soon as he appeared. Volt bit him, but his own anxieties weren’t exactly a problem for him.

   “Volt, I’m not an intruder!” Virgil groaned and plucked Volt carefully off his face. Beeps chastised Voltaire from her silks on the bannister. Volt apologized and Virgil placed him gently on the bannister near Beeps, then removed the bite make from his face. Virgil went to go put down his knitting carefully on the table so it wouldn’t get disturbed and messed up. “Nobody mess with this,” He commanded them. “Anybody need anything before I go?” He checked in with his spiders. He summoned some food for them and left to go hang out with D.

—

   Virgil was cuddled on the couch with D, watching TV they were snarking at in Deceit’s room while they enjoyed their tea. Deceit was also cuddling him back instead of just letting Virgil cuddle him, which was amazing. It took Deceit a while to settle into it, but normally it was a relatively one-sided thing. Deceit’s cool scales felt sublime on his cheek, even with his top between them. Deceit lolled his head on Virgil’s shoulder and stroked his hair slowly. Virgil felt very safe wrapped up in his arms, like nothing could get to him.

   “What is wrong with this world that the adults are just letting literal children run free with no supervision?” Deceit growled and lifted his head slightly to sip his tea.

   “I know, right? How little do they care about their children? It’s like ‘bye billy have fun getting hit by a car or kidnapped while I ignore you for 12 hours’ what kind of parenting is that?” Virgil agreed with a dark laugh. He didn’t want to shift to get his tea, but Deceit must have sensed that, since he reached out and grabbed it for Virgil. “Thank you,” Virgil purred and enjoyed a sip.

   “Murphy’s law,” Deceit laughed sinisterly as the kids ran into trouble and took Virgil’s mug to place it back on the side table.

   “Isn’t that a constant of the universe,” Virgil drawled sardonically. They continued to incessantly sass the TV together and Virgil was so happy to just relax with Deceit.

   After an hour and a half of tea and TV, Deceit kicked Virgil out of his room, much to his disdain. So what if he got more sarcastic and lied flippantly for a while? Nobody would be able to tell. He was always lying to the others, anyway. Virgil flopped grumpily on his couch, sitting on it with his head to the floor, watching his spiders skitter across the bars under his coffee table. He just went through his regular worries in his head as he watched them nest and jump quietly. At least until he heard a very shocked scream. Virgil fell off the couch in surprise and looked up to see Voltaire latched to Logan’s face and poised to strike.

   “Volt, holy shit, get off of Logan! I’m here, I can protect the room myself!” Virgil quickly rambled and got over to Logan to help. Virgil gently plucked Voltaire off Logan’s face and placed him on Virgil’s shoulder. Logan cleared his throat, pretending to be poised.

   “So you can make spiders larger than Beatrice,” He observed very carefully, completely ignoring the fact that he just screamed like he was about to be murdered.

   “Logan, there is nobody else here, we all know that scream was you,” Virgil said with a chuckle.

   “I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to,” Logan said casually and coughed again.

   “Sorry, Voltaire is very enthusiastic. He got me earlier, too,” Virgil apologized and softly stroked Volt, who angrily objected to not being allowed to attack the intruder. “He’s not an intruder, Volt, come on, he’s not exactly sneaking around,” Virgil chided him.

   “You can talk to them?” Logan asked curiously. “They do not have the capacity to speak.”

   “Roman can talk to his dogs,” Virgil said dismissively. “Can’t you talk to whatever animal it is you can conjure?”

   “I can conjure birds, and certain species of birds are capable of mimicking human speech,” Logan explained. “Spiders do not have such capabilities.”

   “Well, I can call all of Volt’s siblings here and we can perhaps see if they can come,” Virgil offered derisively and Logan stiffened.

   “No. I do not require further proof. It is likely similar to the mental magic nonsense Roman utilizes,” Logan said firmly, raising his hand to stop Virgil from acting further.

   “What do you need, Lo?” Virgil laughed.

   “I have your informational packet to collect in the living room if you would… relocate that giant huntsman spider and join me,” Logan said, taking a minute step back.

   “Sure. Volt, can you just let me know when someone enters while I’m not here instead of attacking? Unless it’s Remus sneaking in. Absolutely bite him in the face if he’s acting fishy,” Virgil ordered Voltaire and held his arm on the bannister for Volt to climb up.

   “This morning you had given us the impression you were somewhat cordial with Remus,” Logan stated curiously as he very carefully watched Volt climb up Virgil’s arm to the bannister, then up the wall. Virgil put a hand on Logan’s shoulder to grab his attention before his eyes landed on the giant nest on the ceiling. Virgil didn’t want Logan to scream in his face, even if it was funny.

   “We’re friends, but he knows he’s not allowed in here and he’s been warned. Remus and I don’t deal too well with each other’s aspects. A spider to the face is better than letting him stay in here,” Virgil groaned. It’s not like Remus wasn’t used to a little venom. A lot of venom, really. Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if he had some in him from D’s experiments right now.

   “Noted,” Logan said and sank from the room. Virgil joined him out to the living room.

   Virgil’s packet was sitting on his regular spot on the couch, near Patton who was already skimming his. Roman rose into the room right as Virgil walked over to pick up his packet. When he read the subject line, he barked a dark laugh.

   “Holy crap, Lo, this… this is… you took that thing I taught you last time to heart, huh?” Virgil chuckled. Roman picked up his packet and looked oddly at Virgil, along with Patton. Logan just had his arms crossed, staring intently at Virgil. He thought it was kind of weird he didn’t just deliver it if Logan went through the effort of getting Virgil. Virgil wasn’t capable of dealing with this right now. So he wasn’t going to.

   “What are you talking about?” Roman asked and walked over. Virgil laughed and sent it away haphazardly to the coffee table in his room, flipping his hand dismissively.

   “Logan’s just spilling the tea all over the place. I’ll deal with it later,” Virgil said causally and held up his hand miming playing a game controller. “You want to go?” He asked hopefully.

   “Yes, I have some honor to regain,” Roman said triumphantly and laughed. Virgil stepped over and rubbed Patton’s shoulder affectionately before sinking to Roman’s room. Virgil heard Logan sigh heavily with very uncharacteristic drama as he left.

   Virgil laid on the floor and took the second controller and Roman sat cross-legged next to him as soon as they appeared.

   “We should probably put a time limit on your warm-up if you actually want to get to a rematch today, Princey,” Virgil smirked.

   “So I got a little into the game last time,” Roman rolled his eyes. “I still won in real life,” Roman added proudly and shoved him slightly in response.

   “Just set your phone or whatever so I can kick your ass,” Virgil said and leaned into Roman to shove him slightly. Roman shoved him back and loaded up the co-operative mode.

   Virgil and Roman played through the levels with a significant increase in teamwork this time. Roman took less power-ups that Virgil needed, and Virgil didn’t kill steal as much when he saw Roman bouncing a little, signifying he was into the fight. Virgil was actually a little disappointed when the alarm went off for them to switch to player versus player. That was, until he kicked Roman’s ass embarrassingly fast.

   “I wasn’t fully warmed up yet, Virge!” Roman groaned and Virgil whooped victoriously.

   “Fine, it’s a mulligan,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

   Princey had quite a few ‘mulligans’ before he got into the fights, but Virgil still won 3 to 1 even after Roman showed marked improvement. After an extremely brutal amount of losses, Roman claimed it was an ‘off day’ with a giant huff. They had switched to watching cartoons instead with a promise of future ass kicking. Virgil thought it was hilarious how much Roman hated to lose, but kept himself from laughing so he wouldn’t hurt Roman’s feelings. Plus, they had also switched to cuddling in a pillow fort on the floor in front of the couch, which perhaps was the best possible outcome of Virgil’s digital beat down of Roman.

   Roman leaned up against the couch with Virgil in his lap under the blanket canopy. Roman summoned them hot cocoa and s’mores, possibly to soothe his ego, but Virgil go to enjoy the chocolaty goodness either way. He felt good, sitting in the fort with Roman’s room mollifying him. Virgil snaked around Roman’s neck when Virgil wasn’t leaning away to enjoy a bite of gooey s’more goodness.

   “Oh my god, no, just ask him! Miscommunication is such a stupid trope,” Virgil grumbled as he watched the characters parade idiocy across the screen.

   “You shut your face, Virgil, it’s a classic form of misdirection that directly reflects the human condition,” Roman snarked at him.

   “Oh, like you weren’t just making fun of it for overuse of smash cuts,” Virgil rolled his eyes and curled affectionately around Roman.

   “Yes, and my complaint was valid,” Roman said haughtily, so Virgil nipped Roman’s neck and laughed when Roman flinched. “You bitch,” Roman groaned and gave Virgil a noogie. Virgil didn’t bother fixing his bangs since he’d probably just mess them up again nestling with Roman.

   “Whatever. This show is just so round-about,” Virgil said dismissively. “Wake me when a plot point happens,” Virgil yawned. Roman tried to punch Virgil in the face, but Virgil blocked him and kissed his knuckles. Which got a bright blush and another punch that Virgil blocked less successfully. Virgil laughed so hard at Roman’s reaction that Roman shoved Virgil off of his lap.

   “If you’re going to be like that, you can go back to your own room,” Roman huffed and crossed his arms.

   “I’m sorry, Ro,” Virgil apologized. Roman peeked at him, but looked away in frustration nonetheless. “Geez, aren’t you a drama queen,” He grumbled under his breath.

   “What was that?” Roman hissed and slowly faced Virgil again.

   “Geez, you’re the greatest and I’m a worm,” Virgil offered, trying to dam the sarcasm from breaking out too much, but it was obviously present.

   “Fine, I’ll continue to tolerate you,” Roman huffed and pulled Virgil’s arm to bring him back on to his lap. Virgil sighed and wrapped back around Roman. “So, you’re not acting upset about Logan calling you out again,” Roman said trying so hard to sound nonchalant that he sort of looped back around again.

   “Subtle, Roman,” Virgil said derisively.

   “I’m allowed to be concerned about you, prickhead,” Roman scoffed right back at him. When did that happen?

   “It’s fine, it’s partially his fault, anyway. I don’t care if he thinks I’m not handling it right,” Virgil said dismissively and went for another s’more.

   “Are you going to give me a sip of this tea?” Roman asked sourly.

   “It’s not fully my tea to share, and I’m not a gossip,” Virgil replied and yawned.

   “Ugh, you know I hate being kept out of the loop,” Roman groaned. Virgil put down his partial s’more and wrapped his arms in a circle around Roman. Roman paused for a moment while Virgil held his arm-loop in position encircling Roman’s head. “Oh my god, you tremendous dork! I expected this from Patton, but never from you!” Roman rolled his eyes.

   “Hey, I don’t pick what Thomas likes, I just deal with it,” Virgil said with a shrug and grabbed his s’more to finish. Roman let out a pretty hearty chuckle for a guy who just acted like Virgil committed some kind of sin against humor. “Don’t worry about it, Princey, I’m fine. I’m doing all of that ‘reaching out’ garbage,” Virgil added when Roman settled down and eyed Virgil suspiciously again. Virgil yawned and pressed into Roman sleepily.

   “I guess that’s good to hear, Virge, though I don’t recall you reaching out to me,” Roman said, sounding a little jealous.

   “What do you think I’m doing here?” Virgil asked, stifling another yawn.

   “Stealing my s’mores,” Roman replied cattily.

   “I was lonely and Logan packet did spook me a little so I asked you to hang out,” Virgil explained, nuzzling into Roman’s neck.

   “That’s not really reaching out, though, is it?” Roman said dismissively.

   “Sometimes it’s all I need,” Virgil yawned and closed his eyes.

   “That’s seriously it?” Roman asked in confusion.

   “Not every single terror is worth a meltdown. It’s lots of little terrors that seem to pile up easier when you’re stuck. I’m not unafraid of Logan’s reaction but I’m not dealing with it alone right now,” Virgil said quietly and ran his fingers though the back of Roman’s hair for a moment. Roman didn’t seem to have a response to that, so he listened to the cartoon, seeming more distant by the moment.

   Virgil wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he woke back up again to a dark bedroom. Roman’s face was lit by his phone screen while they sat on the floor against the bed. Virgil pulled off Roman’s chest and looked around. Roman had already changed into a soft shirt and loose pajama bottoms under Virgil. Virgil must have accidentally cut it pretty close to sleeping in Roman’s room all night. Roman ran his hand through Virgil’s hair, smoothing out his bangs, and put down his phone.

   “Hey, little house of horrors. It’s time for bed,” Roman said softly. Virgil rubbed his eyes briefly and yawned so hard it hurt his face.

   “’Kay, I’ll go see my other cuddle buddy,” Virgil yawned again and rolled slowly off of Roman to sink out of his bedroom.

personal taglist: @gdaygdaymatey​ @elizabutgayer​​ 

taglist repository tags (ask to be removed):

canon divergence au:  @legendsgates​ @rainbowbowtie​ @10moonymhrivertam​

virgil-centric:  @demoniccheese83​ @thatgaydemigodnerd​ @arya-skywalker​

hurt/comfort:  @callboxkat​ @nonasficcollection​ @supernovainthenightsky​

literally everything sanders sides:  @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun  @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven  @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (5)

A/N: idk what to write here for this chapter, to be Fuckin Honest — this didn’t feel like a lot to write, and then i checked my wordcount and was like “woah! that’s the longest chapter” and i didn’t wanna cut it so here’s A Lot!!

WARNINGS: sympathetic deceit, threats, minor character death, knives, swords, descriptions of blood, blood, cursing, panic, chaos, Getting Lost in the woods, crowds, arguing, a chase, mentions of a bear, loneliness, — if i’ve forgotten any, please let me know!!!

Words: 5465

Pairings: nothing yet!!! slight hints of the good Royality™ and some Soft Loceit™ and some i guess hard-stop platonic Anxciet — DLAMP is still endgame but i told y’all this would be a fuckin slow burn

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all) — Part 5 (i’ve got no strings)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda​ @askthesnake @k9cat

enjoy!! <3 <3

“I’ve got no strings, so I have fun….I’m not tied up to anyone….They’ve got strings but—”

“Would you shut up already? Of all the songs for you to be singing, too. Singing won’t get rid of me.”

“I can dream, can’t I?”

“Ppft. I don’t know, Dickhead in Distress, can you?”

“What’re you doing here, Dragon Bitch. Go kiss a mirror.”

“Just paying you a little visit. Excited to see you so vulnerable. Once I find the others, I’m gonna take a lot of pleasure in cutting your head off in front of them. Maybe we’ll even get a crowd.”

“I hope you never find them.”

“Then I’ll just kill you alone. Or maybe I’ll guillotine you! Oh, I’ll set up the most beautiful blade — cold steel, perfectly manicured and sharpened. Maybe that’ll actually draw them out of hiding, rolling your head along the main road, watching the blood paint the cobblestone red.”

“That’d….that’d hurt Thomas. Holy shit. You’re insane.”

“And you sicken me, what’s your point? You know I wouldn’t do that. Not with all your little lover boys in town.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you feel it? They finally checked in on us. Nerd Declassified Creativity Survival Guide let them in. It’ll be the coup of a century. And, if I find them....”

“Don’t hurt them.”

“They’ve got strings—”

“—No, no come back here. Don’t!—”

“—but you can see—”

“—Please, you can’t—”

“—there are no strings on me!”

As Anxiety, Virgil has a running mental list of all the things Thomas perceived as dangers. Ergo, these were things Virgil didn’t want happening to him. He doesn’t like not knowing what’s at the bottom of the ocean. A drink left unattended at party was a potential danger. He doesn’t like being caught in a lie and doesn’t like having to be out socializing for unexpectedly extended periods of time.

Waking up in on the ground in a forest was pretty high on that list. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the blue sky, dotted with small clouds, through an opening of tree branches.

He sat up, blinking his eyes more and trying to take in their surroundings. Dirt and leaves were stuck to his hair and the cloak he’d wrapped himself in. To his left was Patton, laying face down in a pile of leaves, and to his right was Deceit and Logan similarly splayed on the ground.

Immediately Virgil thought the worst, but his worries alleviated when Deceit groaned, and Logan’s arms pinched in to push himself up. Patton sat upright as well, arms stretching around himself.

“Well,” Patton hummed, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

The forest around them was thick, tall trees in every direction and stretching as far as they could see. They seemed to have landed in a small clearing, on a patch of grass and leaves and flowers, but still very much in the middle of the forest.

“Here I thought the Playwright’d be helping us,” Deceit said, picking the leaves off of his coat, “This is ridiculous. We’re in a forest.”

“This isn’t good. Oh my God, this isn’t good — Logan, what do we know about edible berries?” Virgil asked, turning around in a few circles.

Logan looked around, mouth open as he assessed the situation. Then, he patted the inside of his coat, mumbling to himself.

After standing up, Patton went to grab Virgil’s shoulders, stopping his spinning. “Don’t look around too much, kiddo, you’re gonna make yourself dizzy. And–And it’s okay! We’re in the Imagination now, and we’re gonna find Roman.”

“How’re we supposed to find Roman when I can’t even find the treeline?!” Virgil asked, grabbing Patton’s arms back, “And we just FELL. From the SKY.”

“Yeah, well….that can happen! It’s the Imagination, it’s okay. Besides, we survived! Roman wouldn’t let the Imagination hurt us,” Patton pulled him a little closer, patting his arm twice.

Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked him closer to his chest, causing the moral side to let out a small “Woop!” and open his arms as well. There had to be a number of panic attacks in one day that the anxious side could take, some sort of pain threshold, and he was certainly on his way to reaching it. Deceit watched them hug for only a few seconds before turning around and looking for Logan. And, by proxy, the book.

If the Playwright handed them a book saying that it’d help, calling it “deus ex machina,” then it likely had some sort of answer. Right?

It seemed Logan himself had the same thought, because he was sitting on the small stump, pressing his finger to it. Deceit approached and sat besides him. Logan had opened to a new page, one not indicated to earlier by the Table of Contents. “Imaginary Map” was the clever name, and the map itself stretched both pages. It didn’t indicate where they were, but there was a forest, a mountain range, and a lake, all forming a jagged triangle around what looked like a town. A small river ran through the town, between the mountains and lake. There was a compass in the bottom left corner as well, cardinal directions written in the Playwright’s neat but floppy handwriting.

“It’s a safe assumption that we’re somewhere here,” Logan circled the forest area, “But I cannot tell where the sun is.”

“If it follows a pattern. Roman’s been known to keep it on daytime for much longer than just one day,” Deceit said.

Logan shrugged. His foot was tapping on the ground, rubbing the corner of the page between his fingers. There were a lot of questions he had and a lot of feelings he didn’t understand. Why had Roman done this? It was excessive, to break oneself into pieces like he had allegedly done.

And he hadn’t ruled out the possibility that Roman had just dressed up different, was putting them through this story for god knows what reason. That Roman was upset about something or other, and thus had set up a narrative that held the other Sides at fault, with him sitting in his room safe and sound. Did Logan find that easier to explain? Perhaps. Did he want that? He was merely thinking of all the potentially logical explanations for Roman’s behavior.

He blinked when Deceit put a hand on his. “You’re gonna tear the page,” he said, voice quiet.

Slowly, Logan nodded, though he didn’t remove his hand from Deceit’s. The comfort was welcome at this time. “Thank you.”

They both examined the map, opening the book further when Patton and Virgil approached to see, the later having calmed down.

Virgil immediately pointed to a small gap between the tree drawings, then pointed to biggest tree drawing in the forest — it looked like the other trees, just slightly bigger. “I think we’re in this gap thing. And we gotta head to that tree,” he stood up straight, cupping his hands around his eyes and looking at the sky.

Logan glanced at him, then back at the map. “What makes you say that?”

“Big tree. First checkpoint, like in a video game,” Virgil said, jerking a thumb back toward the clearing’s center, “Wanna stare at the sun with me?”

Deceit carefully took the book from Logan’s hands, and Patton slid into Logan’s seat as he vacated it. He went to stand besides Virgil, lifting his glasses to the top of his head and watching the sun as well. Well, they weren’t staring straight at the sun, because that was dangerous. More like they were trying to figure out where it was in the sky through the thick tree coverage. Either way, it looked like they knew what they were doing, so he looked away. Patton hoped they knew what they were doing.

“Patton,” Patton glanced up from where he was fiddling with his shirt’s drawstrings, “You’ve been quiet.”

Deceit was watching him with a raised eyebrow beneath the bycocket hat that had replaced the bowler. Though, his hair was falling out of place beneath it. Patton leaned forward as he answered. “Oh, you know. Just worried’s all.”

Deceit stiffened when Patton cupped his cheek and slid the hair back into the hat, but he just kept talking. “I mean. It feels bad. Roman didn’t even tell us how he’d been feeling. And does that mean he’s been doubting himself this whole time? He thinks we don’t like him, and I know for a fact that that’s wrong.”

Patton sat back, crossed his legs, and nodded to himself. “We love Roman. I,” he trailed off, and then chuckled quietly, “I know I love Roman, a lot. We–We’re best friends!”

“And yet, he didn’t disclose his feelings.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what hurts about this all. But that just means we have to make sure he knows we love him! We’ve just gotta sure he knows so well that he doesn’t question it anymore!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow at Patton’s explicit and tunnel-visioned optimism. Judging by the shine in the moral side’s eyes, though, there was nothing Deceit could say to convince him otherwise.

Ah, curse them all and their stubborness. Deceit would have to find a good time to address that with Patton, to be honest. It always hurt, a little, when he caught Patton beating himself up over failing to emotionally connect with the other Sides. Nothing that a cuddle and some cookies wouldn’t stave off, but Deceit was….well, this whole endeavor with Roman was showing him that he couldn’t keep “staving off” the other Sides’ problems.

He shook his head, clearing it, and both him and Patton looked up to the sound of crunching leaves as Logan and Virgil made their way closer.

“East, right?” Virgil stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling his thick cloak tighter around himself as he did so.

“Very much so. At least that will give us nearly a full day to find the forest’s edge. From there, we will be able to discern the distances between objects,” Logan said.

“It better not be too far. I don’t wanna be spending the night in the woods.”

“Well, sleeping in a forest is not ideal, though I have enough of an idea on how to arrange a lean-to that we may be able to survive one night.”

Virgil tutted, shaking his head. “What if some animals find us? Like a really big bear or something?”

Logan paused and, for a second, Virgil was worried that he’d respond with some statistic about what kinds of bears live in forests with trees like this. What Logan said, though, was “We’ll throw Deceit at the bear and run,” just as they stopped in front of Patton and Deceit.

Virgil and Patton both snorted at the offended gasp Deceit gave. “How dare!”

“Awh, Deceit, don’t worry! Logan’s just joking,” Logan opened his mouth to clarify that, yes, he was posing a hypothetical suggestion to alleviate Virgil’s worries, “We just couldn’t bear that!”

Logan rolled his eyes, pointedly ignoring Patton’s grin. Well, alright then. He clapped, drawing attention back to himself. “Okay. The sun is still rising, in that direction,” he pointed with one arm, “And, compared to the map, Virgil’s supposed first checkpoint is in that direction,” he shifted his arm.

“Although we don’t know distances comparatively to this map, I can only assume that if we walk continuously in that direction, we will soon find the large tree. That will also help us figure out the comparative distances on the map.”

After a round of agreements, the four Sides gathered themselves and began their trek, Logan leading the way with the book’s map open in front of himself. Some woodland creatures were about. Patton pointed out a squirrel, two squirrels, a bird (a swallow, according to Logan) and they’d even seen a deer in the distance.

There were still some loose ends to tie before this supposed quest, Deceit thought. He slowed his walk so he was in line with Virgil, who was bringing up the rear.

“Sssso.”

Virgil glanced at him from the corner of his eye, quick, before starring forward again. “What?”

“Truce,” Deceit was watching Virgil, lips pinched in thought.

Virgil stopped, as did Deceit. He turned to fully face him, brow pinched tight and mouth open in a small O. It looked like he was trying to weigh his options, or, Deceit considered, weigh a new insult.

“We have had our differences, Virgil. And I cannot say that I fully trust you either. But I think, for right now, we….should work together. I plan on working with you,” Deceit’s eyes narrowed when Virgil’s scowl deepened. “For Roman’s sake. At least.”

Virgil kept glaring at him. Deceit wasn’t sure if Logan and Patton had stopped walking, he wasn’t keen on taking his eyes off of Virgil. Since their steady falling out, he’d regarded Virgil as more of a live wire than anything else. He was a leading factor in stifling Thomas’ interactivity, after all, and that was detrimental to Thomas’ development as a human being. They very much had their historic differences. But, given Virgil’s display of protection in the Mind Palace….while Deceit wasn’t a fan of being immediately attacked, he understood the reasoning behind the decision. Fight or flight.

They held their stare-off for only a moment longer, until Virgil blinked, looking away towards the other two Sides. “You’re right. For Roman’s sake,” he added the last part softer, regret laced through his voice.

That was good enough, Deceit supposed. He started after Logan and Patton — they hadn’t stopped, and were two blue dots in the distance — when Virgil called after him. “Hey, Deceit?”

“Yes,” he looked at Virgil, who was tugging at his cloak’s sleeves, jaw set.

“I’m sorry. For attacking you earlier,” he said, quiet and strained.

Deceit’s eyebrow raised. That was unexpected, Virgil apologizing for a reaction. “It was understandable. I entered where I shouldn’t have, without forewarning. And you were already tightly wound from Roman’s extended disappearance.”

“Maybe it was valid, yeah, but still,” Virgil followed after him, steps slow and eyes trained not on Deceit’s face but his chin. “‘M sorry.”

Virgil felt a hand brush his and looked down to see Deceit holding his hand out, open for Virgil. “It’s okay, Virgil,” the other’s voice was so soft now, “Just some steps backward, and more steps forward to come.”

There were about a million things Virgil thought to say. Something about how that was just mumbo jumbo, something about hanging out with Patton too much, something else about how untrue that could be.

But something about the way Deceit’s hand was shaking, the way his snake eye twitched, like he was fighting an impulse, drove home that he honestly believed it. And, for Virgil, that was all he needed to take his hand and keep walking.

They’d been walking for maybe fifteen minutes total before coming across another clearing, this one much wider, with a thick oak tree in the center. Was it oak? The bark was reminiscent of an oak, but the tree itself was so big that it seemed more like a redwood.

Patton began walking around the tree, looking it over, while Virgil and Deceit followed behind Logan. He was the first to approach, drawing his hand down the bark as though feeling every etching.

“Well. This is your checkpoint,” Logan said.

“I don’t see how it’s so significant that it had to be marked on a map,” Deceit said, tilting his head upward, squinting into the light to see how tall the tree was.

“Just a hunch. I don’t really, either, other than….it’s big.”

“Maybe it’s just a big tree? Does Roman usually just make things like this?”

“I don’t know. I try not to interact with Roman’s creative process, especially his pet projects, similar to how he does not interact with mine,” Logan looked around, “We should walk the perimeter. There may be something different.”

Deceit and Virgil both nodded, and then turned in opposite directions. Logan followed after Virgil, one hand touching the tree still, and they found Patton first.

The moral side was on his tip-toes, examining something on the tree’s trunk. “What’d you find, Pat?” Virgil’s voice surprised Patton enough that he stumbled back a little.

“Ah, sorry!” Virgil checked on him, but Patton waved him off.

“It’s okay! I just got a little spooked — that’s a door.” Logan and Virgil looked at where Patton’d been inspecting.

Sure enough, there was a light circled outlined on the bark in black chalk. Logan moved closer immediately, taking a knee to inspect. There was a door-sized circle drawn on the bark, as well as a fully-blacked out circle where one would expect a handle, and a small keyhole drawn in just beneath.

In the center of the door was Roman’s crest, also drawn in with black chalk. Written beneath the crest was “A place for solitude.”

Logan squinted at the words, mouthing them quietly. He ran a thumb over the words and, finding them unchanged, rubbed a little harder. None of the chalk was coming off. Curious.

One could expect Roman to have magic in his world, given the present fantasy elements. This seemed to Logan like it could be the first indication of magic.

“What do you think that means?” Logan turned around, finding Deceit, Virgil, and Patton all standing behind him.

Logan looked back at the door and stood up slowly. “....I’m not sure. I don’t know how this world works,  so trying to predict what it might mean could lead to the wrong assumptions, but it feels like something outside of reality.”

Patton nodded, and rubbed his own arms. They were lonely words indeed, and while it was a tree trunk, Patton was sure it led to something else. “Do you mean like magic?”

“It looks like we’re not getting in, if this is even a door,” Deceit stepped back as he spoke, “I don’t know how we’d even try to open it. We should try to find the road to town.”

“But this door’s got Roman’s crest on it. Another Roman’s probably in there,” Virgil said.

“There’s no way for us to get in, and it’s unconfirmed that this even a doorway. Plus, if it is another Roman, he probably heard us by now. He might not want to see us.”

“How would he have heard us?”

Deceit pointed up to a few feet above the door’s drawing. There was a circular window, seemingly without any glass.

“Hey L, has the map updated or anything?” Virgil asked, still looking at the window.

Logan frowned, pulling the book from his jacket. He flicked open the Table of Contents with emphasis, but stopped and spread out the page. There was a new section that had been scratched out, beneath “The Playwright,” and Logan couldn’t make out the words. Hm.

He opened the Imaginary Map, at the back of the book. The tree that they were at had been colored in with a dark brown trunk and bright green leaves, and had been labeled.

“The Playwright has named this tree ‘The Thief’s Nest,’” Logan said as he scanned the page, “Beyond that, nothing has changed.”

“Alrighty, so the Thief lives here! We’ll have to check back when he’s home and maybe he’ll let us in?” Patton nudged Logan, gesturing for him to follow.

“I find it unlikely that someone who describes their home as ‘a location for solitude’ would allow us entrance,” Logan stood up, looking at the Book again, “But I suppose we don’t have any other option. We should start in that direction.”

Patton nodded, a smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll be able to steal him away from his loneliness!”

His pun was met with an angry huff.

“Wow, it looks like Patton stole the air from your lungs,” Deceit quipped, “And here I thought thievery was wrong.”

He and Virgil had already started in the direction Logan had pointed to, a few steps away from them. Logan groaned at the pun, walking past Patton and ignoring Virgil’s snickering as he continued to lead their way out of the forest.

Finding the edge of the forest was simple — the map had shown that the distance between the Thief’s tree and the clearing that they’d landed in was actually shorter than the distance from the tree to the forest’s edge, confirming that the distances on the map were precise, to a comparative extent.

Once they got through the treeline, Virgil pointed out the road, only a short distance away, and they were soon on the path. On the horizon was a large castle, looking nearly as tall as the mountains behind it. The Sides could make out some buildings below it, sprawling and larger as they grew closer. This must be the town on the map. It was surrounded by a wall but there was a gate on their path, its doors open.

There was probably no harm in entering an unguarded door, Deceit had reasoned. They went in.

The town was certainly bustling, more people walking around as they walked along the road. Windows were open, store-fronts had crowds standing before them. Upon first entering, there were only one or two shop stalls between the streets, the more they walked but the deeper they got, the more stalls and stores there were; there were more people scattered around, talking in hushed voices or mulling around doorways. The buildings grew taller, too, the closer to the castle they got. Still semi-in the distance though much closer now was the castle, a towering figure with light-grey walls and red

The group held each others’ clothing ends as they slowly pushed into a large market-place area, such like a town square. Virgil was looking around, arms tucked in close and body pressing even closer to Logan as the crowd densified around them. Someone in the crowd caught his eye, though, and he squinted.

Slowly, he pointed his hand out in front of Logan and Patton. “Isn’t that the Dominos delivery guy?”

“Maybe — hey, that kinda reminds me of that one thing we saw on Tumblr, about how every face we see in a dream’s a face we’ve seen in real life,” Patton tapped his lip thoughtfully.

Virgil saw the gleam of getting to explain something in Logan’s eyes. As soon as Patton said “that one thing,” he frantically signaled from Logan’s left, waving his hand across his neck to call ‘cut.’ But the deed was done.

“Actually, that would imply that the human mind is unable to create new faces, but that hasn’t been proven in a way that can be measured. According to a media article published by Stanford University’s Neuroscience Department, there are many ways that the human dreamlike state’s facial recognition cannot be calculated in an adequate way, including that such a test would involve precise knowledge of every face that a person has seen throughout their lifetime, including passing strangers. Though it’s heavily implied, due to how humans use REM sleep to store memories—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Deceit waved a hand at them, drawing immediate silence, “Listen.”

They both stopped, Virgil flicking his hood off so he could better hear. Patton was already looking around, trying to find where it was coming from.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes”

“Yep, that’s him,” Virgil murmured.

Patton pointed to the left and Deceit nodded. “Let’s go,” Deceit said, before Patton grabbed his arm and tugged him down the road.

They both immediately picked up a brisk fast-walk, jogging after the music, with Logan and Virgil right on their heels.

“When you’re fast asleep~”

“Is this going to be a trend, do you think? Following music?” Logan huffed quietly, “It seems to be a motif.”

“Motif?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. Given how the Playwright was discussing this whole scenario, it seems that some literary devices will be used to aid us in finding Roman. The use of music, specifically Disney music , may be a way to lead us, the protagonists, towards the next plot point.”

“In dreams you lose your heartaches~”

Virgil pursed his lips. “You know, I don’t know if we get to be meta here.”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’ve done so in multiple episodes, for comedic relief,” Logan said. Patton and Deceit rounded around a corner, and there seemed to be a soft ukulele accompaniment to the singing.

“Well,” Virgil said, as he and Logan jogged after them, “I don’t know if we’re allowed to break the fourth wall in fan—”

Deceit and Patton had stopped just around the corner, and Virgil slammed into Patton’s back, making him stumble forward a few steps. Logan stopped himself, tripping on his feet but being caught by Deceit and held steady.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” Patton helped Virgil upright, “We just found him.”

“Whatever you wish for, you keep~”

There was a small crowd, only about twenty people, gathered around a set of five barrels. And Roman.

Well. One of the Romans, they all reminded themselves, because this certainly wasn’t their prince. He was wearing a loose white tunic shirt and a red vest trimmed with gold, all of which was tucked into a bright red waist-sash. Beneath the sash was a pair of puffy pants tucked into knee-high black boots with golden heels. His hair was messy, swept up and blowing around in nonexistent wind.

“Didn’t the Playwright say something about every Roman having part of his crest?” Patton asked, tilting his head.

“He said that the book’s cover would update with parts of his crest as we talked to more of the Romans, not that they each would be adorned with the crest,” Logan looked at the book’s cover, then flipped it open to the Table of Contents.

“Have faith in your dreams, and someday~” the Roman’s voice rang clear as day over the hushed crowd, even over the bustling sounds of people walking past.

A new section appeared, a sub-section of “The Playwright” called “Authors Notes.” That definitely hadn’t been there prior. Logan squinted and began flipping to it, but was interrupted by Virgil nudging him and pointing.

“He is wearing the crest, I think. Look at his pants.”

The Roman’s pants had a jagged designs on them, red pants with golden stitching in a zig-zag and with small gold circles around it. “Doesn’t it look like his crest’s mountains and swirly whatever’s?”

….He supposed Virgil had a point.

The Roman stood up on the barrel and struck a pose while strumming on the ukulele. He was watching someone in the crowd, smile broad as the sky.

Then, he hopped from one barrel to another, making a pose as he did so. “Your rainbow will come shining through~” he spun on the barrel on the word “rainbow,” and Virgil stiffened.

“He has good balance and coordination,” Logan placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, rubbing gently, “He didn’t fall off the ladder, and he’s will not fall off the barrels.”

“....What if you’re wrong,” Virgil hissed.

Logan raised his eyebrow at Virgil, as though daring him to repeat that sentiment. Virgil just rolled his eyes and glowered back at the Roman.

“So,” Patton turned around and whispered to the group, “We….probably have to talk to him.”

“No matter how your heart is grieving~”

“We definitely need to talk to him,” Deceit said, turning his head towards Patton, “But to do so we’re also gonna have to interrupt his performance.”

“Do you think we can just wait until he’s done?” Virgil tugged at his sleeves, watching the Roman do a twirl after another jump, one leg kicked into the air, “Maybe he’s got good coordination, but if we interrupt him, and he gets really shocked, and he falls over—”

“Then one of us can catch him. I do agree, though, that intervening is not the best course of action. It may upset this iteration of Roman.”

“Alright, then, how about we wait until the song’s over?”

“If you keep on believing~”

“It’s almost over, right?”

“I think this verse repeats?”

“How….how do you not know how this song goes? Isn’t this Princey’s ringtone?”

“I don’t know. I don’t typically retain the memory of lyrics, that is overseen by Roman, and I don’t listen to his ringtone. I just retain facts, schedules, and our internal clock, among my other duties.”

“And yet you’ve memorized the Rainforest Rap?”

“Let’s not hound Logan for his music tastes, Black Parade.”

“The dream that you wish will come true!”

All four of them were startled by the uproarious applause that broke out. They looked up to see the figure laughing, leaning forward from the front-most barrel to high five someone in the crowd. As he leaned in, he acted like he was listening to something, ukulele held high and away in the gesture. His movements were was comical and exaggerated, hand cupping his ear, legs in a bent splits over the barrel.

“....D’you think they all have names like, ‘the position-name’?” Virgil asked, watching the Roman lean back up, do a backflip onto another barrel,“Because I think this one’s a clown.”

“Perhaps he’s the performer,” Logan suggested.

“Oh! Maybe he’s the thespian!” Patton clapped.

“We just missed his mid-song break,” Deceit said, pinching the bridge of his nose as the Roman began strumming his ukulele again,  “Oh my God, we missed his song break.”

Virgil nudged him with his elbow. “It’s not like he’s going—”

“STOP! THIEF!”

The four Sides, along with most of the civilians who’d been watching the performance, all turned around around. Behind them were some taller buildings, fluctuating between three and four floors of height. After craning their necks, trying to find the source of the yell, Virgil tapped Logan’s chest and pointed.

Four buildings down, running along the building’s rooftop, was a man. He had a large black cloak, covered with deep red patches, that billowed after him. That was all they could see from this distance.

Fortunately, they weren’t the only ones who had spotted the man on the roof.

“Hey, Aladdin!” the performing Roman shouted, cutting himself off by waving his ukulele into the air, “Stealing from the dragon’s hoard again?”

“Aw, shut up and get running, Sir Talks-a-lot!” came the reply.

The Roman laughed, loud and brash, but only Patton turned toward him. He saw the performing Roman jump off of the barrel he’d been standing on, into the crowd and disappearing from Patton’s sight.

“One jump! Ahead of the breadline!” he sang, strumming the ukulele once, harshly, before the crowd around him dissolved into shouting, running, and chaos, “One swing! Ahead of a sword!”

Patton looked back up at the running figure. The cloaked man jumped off of one of the roofs, pirouetting mid-jump and throwing something at the guards. Two of them dodged, but one was struck, falling over. Virgil flinched as he noticed the fallen guard had been hit with a throwing knife, the handle wrapped with a bright red fabric.

He tugged Deceit’s arm, hissing at the other two, “We’ve gotta follow him.”

“Do you think that’s another Roman,” Logan asked. He glanced at Virgil, who nodded before immediately running in the direction of the cloaked figure and guards.

Deceit opened his mouth, but was shoved to the side by another person in passing. “Hey, watch it!” he snapped, looking around to see who’d pushed him.

Laughter, childish laughter. He looked down to see a young boy with messy light brown hair and a black cloak. The boy turned to him, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Sorry, mister Deceit! I’ve gotta run!” the golden brooch that pinned the child’s cloak together glistened in the light.

Logan and Deceit heard Patton’s breathing hitch when he saw it was the sun from Roman’s crest. Another one.

“You know, the Playwright implied it’d be hard to find them all,” Deceit mumbled.

A guard shouted, something indecipherable, but the child took is cue. He turned and kept running, away from them all.

“Wait,” Patton shoved Logan to the side and ran after the child, “He’s–He’s just a kid—!”

“God damnit,” Deceit hissed, pressing shoulders with Logan as they both turned in opposite directions.

They looked at each other, then the stage. The crowd had completely cleared now, chaotic as people ran away from the multiple groups of guards. The Roman they’d seen performing earlier was nowhere in sight, barrels kicked over, though….they could hear faint singing from beyond the wall.

“We should regroup later,” Deceit said, “Right here. Tomorrow morning, if need be.”

“After sunrise. You follow Virgil, I will follow Patton,” Logan responded.

He patted Deceit’s back and they pushed off of each other, taking off in their own respective directions.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Hey could you do a fic about Virgil and Deceit’s past? I'd be curious to see what you'd write. Bonus: Use these three phases: "What did I ever do to you?" "We're all monsters here." "You don't understand." I'm a huge fan, so keep up the good work.

I know I have like three wip (which is a lot for me) but what the heck?

Warnings: Idk anger? Mild violence? Characters with a history of being mean?

Buy the fanfic writer a coffee? (ko-fi)

Anxiety was always the oldest. Anxiety was always the meanest. Anxiety was the rudest. Anxiety was the scariest.

But everyone still agreed that Deceit was the worst.

Deceit was the worst because he was convincing, even when you knew he was wrong. Deceit was the worst because sometimes he tried to help and sometimes what he did seemed good. Deceit was complicated, but Deceit was always the worst.

Anxiety knew it was Logic’s fault at first. Or Morality? Or was it his fault? Was it imagination’s fault? It was just one of their faults he knew it. Somebody was to blame for this. Whoever was to blame, the first lie happened.

“We lied to mom!” Anxiety yelled, shoving Deceit against the wall.

“Hi, Fear!” Deceit said happily.

Anxiety lifted him up and shoved his shoulders into the wall so violently that a small chunk of plaster fell off the wall.

“Sissy.” Deceit spat. “Bully.”

Anxiety knew that one of those was true. Which one he didn’t want to think about.

“I’m not going to let us forget about this. ever.” Anxiety said.

“Oh, I’m so scared.” Deceit said, his eyes rolling.

“Years from now you’ll regret this. I will never let it die.” Anxiety said, dropping Deceit.

He turned around and didn’t see the other child rubbing his shoulders.

……….

The thing that really made Deceit the worst though was that sometimes he seemed to agree with you. Or help you. And you always fell for it. And then he turned around two seconds later.

Right after high school is when he started moving between Anxiety and Princey’s attention, feeding both of them ideas.

Anxiety knew it was BS. He knew it. But hearing someone say exactly what you were thinking, confirming what you thought was true, felt good for a change. The prince, as creativity or dreams or whatever he was calling himself these days wanted to be seen as… whatever. The prince guy was probably getting a similar treatment.

“Thomas, you’re a failure.”

“A failure.” echoed the side that had recently begun to look even more snake-like.

“You look perfect.”

“Perfect” he echoed.

Anxiety broke down Logic’s door. Logic nearly fell out of his chair.

“Who is right!?” he demanded.

“I’m, I’m, I’m, I’m I’m sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about A-anxiety.” Logic said, straightening his glasses.

“Is it me or Princey? Who’s right?”

“I’m afraid uh, neither of you.” Logic said, holding up his planner almost like a shield. “Cognitive distortions. Deceit has been talking to both of you. Morality and I saw it. We didn’t interfere because of…”

“You’re the one that’s wrong!” Anxiety said before slamming the door behind him.

……….

Anxiety sat on the couch, legs folded. Morality came walking by. He was visibly startled and started to leave.

“Patton, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Pattonted. The only one.”

Anxiety hid a smirk.

“So, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure!”

“You’re scared.”

“Yeah but we can fix that. You don’t talk much to us and…”

“Yeah I know.”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Anxiety sighed.

“You know Deceit better than any of us.”

“Yeah?” Patton said hesitantly but with a smile still plastered on his face.

“Do you know what the right answer is?” Anxiety asked.

“No. And that’s why Deceit goes to both of you. Because I don’t know.”

“I do not like working.” Anxiety said, angrily heading for the stairs.

“I know the feeling, kiddo.” Patton murmured fondly under his breath.

……….

Deceit’s shoulders made notable damage in the wall. He had long ago stopped repairing the damage done to his room and there were a lot of unrelated posters on the wall now. Sometimes they changed.

“So here we are again.” Deceit chuckled. “Just like old times.”

Anxiety slammed him into the wall even harder and his stupid black bowler hat fell to the floor. Deceit laughed even harder. The teeth on the snake side of his mouth were sharp right above Anxiety’s face.

“Why do you even exist?” Anxiety said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, because you’ve never needed me.” Deceit said, carefully lacing his words with ice.

“Remember that time?”

“Sissy. Bully.” Deceit said.

“I thought so.” Anxiety said, throwing him to the ground.

Even Deceit had a hard time recovering gracefully from that fall. His clothes were wrinkled now.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you forget.” Anxiety said.

“You’re just the absolute worst.” Deceit said.

Anxiety went to throw a punch but Deceit dodged it and another hole was made in the wall instead. A poster for Phantom of the Opera on Broadway grew over it..

“You are the worst!” Anxiety called out. “Everyone knows that!”

But Deceit was gone.

Maybe he was right. At least Deceit’s lies were… comfortable, sometimes. Anxiety was the oldest, the meanest, the scariest. Deceit was none of those things.

……….

“Of course they listened to me while you were gone.” Deceit said, crossing his arms defensively.

“Get out of my room.” Virgil commanded.

“Of course I’ve never made a mistake with my words and you weren’t needed for anything… Virgil.”

“You never earned the right to use my name.” Virgil spat.

Deceit shrugged. “I’m not happy that you’re back.”

“You silenced all of us again. Get out.”

“You won’t be seeing me again.”