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averykedavra · 4 years

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20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

!!! An excuse to recommend my favorite fics and authors? Don’t mind if I do! Here’s a top fourteen list of some great fics and a top nine list of my favorite authors, in no particular order! Because I had way too many. (Plus I’m bound to forget a million good ones, so take these with a grain of salt!)

1. chivalry is dead by Uncrowned_King! There really wasn’t another option. After Roman disappears into the Imagination, the other Sides come to look for him, and find several Romans fighting for ownership of the land. My all-time favorite Roman angst, with some beautifully written worldbuilding and my favorite OCs ever and a plot twist that sent me reeling. With some cute DLAMP, too! What’s not to love?

2. Breathe Out by Odaigahara! This is darker than I usually read but so, so worth it! Set pre-canon, Virgil and Janus team up against the other dark sides and find their feelings go beyond platonic after a relationship of convenience becomes something more. It’s a WIP and I don’t know where it’s going yet, but I’m really intrigued and the writing is incredible!

3. The Black Hole Group Chat by Greenninjagal! Definitely my favorite comfort fic. After Logan accidentally joins a group chat and is forced into sticking around, he finds himself making his first friends--but past feelings and present conflicts threaten to tear apart the first place they’ve ever felt comfortable. So good, so funny, makes the most of the texting medium, and I always cry at the end.

4. Monsters of the Subconscious by Quarantinevibes! Ohh, everything by this author is fantastic which goes for all of them. After PoF, Janus visits the Imagination to apologize. Instead, him and Roman are sucked into the Subconscious, a wild land full of mysterious dangers. They must team up to escape, and come to terms with their feelings for each other. Some wonderfully soft Roceit, hilarious comedy and incredible action, and great emotional moments!

5. the feelings in my headspace rearranged by mutemelody! Some canon divergence for the soul. Anxiety doesn’t have a name, and after the AA arc, has to make his way through acceptance and love. Canon turns on its head, old friends make a reappearance, and through it all Anxiety has to find his own identity, nameless or not. Gosh, this fic is incredible--the writing is stunning, the plot is amazing, and it’s some of the best Virgil angst I’ve ever read.

6. There’s a Word For That by plumcat! I cannot recommend this fic enough. Roman, a Slytherin, has been pining over arguing with Patton, a Hufflepuff, since the beginning of time. But with the Quidditch match coming up, his two annoying best friends relentlessly teasing him, and Patton himself spending more and more time with Roman, Roman has to figure out what he really wants and who he wants to be. This fic is hilarious and makes me feel feelings and please, please read it.

7. (i’d never) want once from the cherry tree by ace_corvid! Prinxiety! And a Youtuber AU that really takes advantage of the medium! Virgil and Roman are two of the most popular creators on YouTube and their fans have been begging them to do a crossover episode. The collaboration goes surprisingly well, but it’s one thing to explore a relationship, and another to do it when the whole world is watching. So cute, so hilarious, has some amazing art as well, and I just highly recommend it.

8. double down on the paradigms by remrose! Here’s a lovely college AU! Logan is doing his best to pass his classes, and everything is going fine, despite his roommate Virgil’s concerns about his late study nights and compulsive behavior. Then he meets Patton, and every wall Logan’s constructed slowly begins to crumble. To show how much I love this fic, I have not stopped thinking about it, even though it’s the only one on this list I’ve only read once. It stuck with me that much and hey maybe I should reread it, hold on--

9. In a Tizzy by coconutcluster! Cute fluff, so wholesome, much love. After Logan finds out that Roman gets flustered at compliments, he enlists the other Sides to test this theory. But Roman gets upset when he thinks they’re playing a joke on him by being nice. The writing is great and it’s a fantastic pick-me-up on a bad day! Just so full of nice wonderful feelings!

10. Communication Issues by WaeRose! Analogince! The alternative title that I cut out says it all! After Logan and Virgil find Roman crying in his room, they make an effort to spend more time together as a group. But platonic feelings quickly become non-platonic, misunderstandings abound, insecurities rise, and they’ll have to learn how to communicate their feelings if those feelings could ever lead to a relationship. The writing is incredible, the second-person POV is done expertly, and the characterization is top-notch!

11. a heart he couldn’t control by codevassie! Prinxiety that tore me into a million pieces. Roman traded away his true love’s life to save his brother from a witch, but when he actually meets said true love, he begins to regret his choice. Now Virgil is trapped once again with the witch, Roman is on a rescue mission, Patton and Logan are hiding something, and Janus is definitely not who he seems. Once again, this AU hurts me, and the incredible writing makes it a gut-punch! It’s a WIP but I love where it’s going and need to catch up on it but shhh

12. Another Goddamn Hero Story by rosesisupposes! I’m a sucker for a superhero AU and this one is stellar! Logan and Virgil are a hero team, trying to subdue Patton and Roman, the most famous villain duo in the city. But nobody’s exactly who they say, everyone’s not quite sure which side is right, and past wrongs are coming back to draw new blood. It’s endgame LAMP and the romances are built perfectly! Supervillains Royality is amazing, the action is incredible, and the plot twist blew me away!

13. Hurt, and How We Grow Past It by Jinx72! Another comfort fic of mine, by one of my all-time favorite authors! After Deceit visits the Imagination and lights a fire larger than he intended, Roman is left injured while the other Sides try to put the pieces back together. Old grudges come to light, new bonds are forged, and they all fall in love slowly while all simultaneously being extremely insecure. The characterization is incredible, the writing is top-notch, and the DLAMP is heartfelt and wonderful!

14. Eucatastrophe by arealsword! I added this one last-minute because it’s incredible and deserves to be on this list! The writing is incredible, the world-building is top-notch, and the plot manages to be coherent and incredible while throwing me for a loop every other line! It creeped me the heck out, but I’d expect nothing less from the author of Pick a Side. I’m not even gonna summarize this one because that’d spoil the fun, but suffice it to say, Thomas gets kidnapped by faeries and things get interesting very fast.

And now for the authors! (I chose authors who I didn’t mention above, but all the ones I already talked about are hella good, check them out too!)

1. @/sleeplessinstarbucks. You want good losleep content? Here. You want good QPR content? Here. You want good content in general? Here! Lia has amazing hurt/comfort, beautiful writing, and stellar characterization. I binge their writing every time I get bored. If you want your heart to be warmed, this is where to go!

2. @/theeternalspace. Okay, so Acantha is the Royal of Long Fics. Every one of theirs is a winner! They’re an expert at plotting and characterization, and I’ve been sucked into every one of their many AUs. Plus their writing is godly! And did I mention there are so many chapter fics on their Ao3? If you want a bunch of bingeable emotional rollercoasters, head on over here!

3. @/whenisitenoughtrees. Cat...how. How do you do it. See, Cat writes the best one shots. Their writing is incredible and they’ve written some of my all-time favorite short fics! Their characterization is always on point, and their dialogue always lands, and did I mention their writing is just so deliciously readable--you feel like they chose every word carefully to make it pack as much of a punch as possible. If you want some incredible one shots, this is your writer!

4. @/tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors. I mean, I couldn’t not include Violet. LAOFT is still my favorite series of all time and deserves all the attention it’s got! They’re the expert at well-done short fics that serve a longer narrative, giving everything an almost episodic structure. Plus, their fluff is the fluffiest and the best, and their angst hurts me deep within my soul, so they’re double-powerful! If you want standalone fics or a complex, emotional series, check them out!

5. @/impatentpending. Elena, our writing god, our Deity, which all other writers must respect. Every fic of hers is top-tier, from short to long, and she’s unrivaled at plotting and worldbuilding! You’ll get sucked in to every world and story she creates, and she’s an expert on letting the stories linger. I’m still thinking about Powerless and Monster and it’s been almost a year. If you want expertly crafted stories that leave you in emotional pieces, she’s got them.

6. @/ironwoman359. A classic choice here! She’s got it all--incredible one shots, great characterization, and a big enough master list for basically any ship to be found! She also writes some of the best hurt/comfort in the genre, so if you’re a fan of bad things that lead to good endings, there’s always something to read. If you want a large catalog of fantastic stories, she’s your gal!

7. @/caffeinatedcryptid. You may have seen El’s fantastic art on tumblr, but have you read their incredible stories? If not, you’re missing out! They’ve got several spectacular one shots already written, and each one of them broke me in their own special way. Their writing style is incredible and their characterization is fantastic. If you want longer one shots with well-thought-through plots, head over there!

8. @/astronomical-bagel. Astro, our Lord of Roman Angst, always ready to punch me in the gut with feelings! Act One, Scene Three still hurts me to this day. They’re always ready to turn anything into Roman angst (or any angst, check HDABST) but they’ve got some comfort in there as well! A little bit. Somewhat. Yeah. If you want to be emotionally destroyed, you know who to call.

9. @/green-writes-sanderssides. Green’s fics were some of the first I ever read in this fandom, and they’ve stuck with me to this day! They're an expert at the fluff-angst balance and causing all sorts of Emotions. They’re currently working on an incomplete LAMP fic that just completes me. But I digress. Green is spectacular! They’ve got wonderful canon-verse fics that explore the characters and their relationships expertly. If you want amazing fics with fantastic characterization in-canon, stop by!

And that’s all of them! Again, there are tons more I didn’t get to mention, but these are just a few I love! Congrats if you read all the way to the bottom, I know it was a lot--I just get really excited when I can compliment my favorite writers! Anyway, check them out if you want, I highly encourage it!

#sanders sides #fic recs #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fic recs #tw long post #long post #asks and answers #ask game #anon

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

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Complexities Unknowable- Chapter Two

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/55737937

Chapter One Link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/613354402381807616/complexities-unknowable-chapter-one

Masterpost

Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.

Warnings: Remus Says Things, everyone is sympathetic (but there are some misunderstandings and misconceptions about each other at first), food mention, Things will be sad and they will get more sad but then they will get much less sad very quickly as this story progresses (sorry idk how to tag chapter fics??? on tumblr???), cursing, lmk If I missed anything.

Word Count: 1,373

Deceit despised Patton, there was no doubt about that. He didn’t murder-despise him (he wasn’t a monster), but it was still very hard to find anything to like about the things Morality did. And said. And the ways he said it. And especially, especially, the way that sugar-coated empty-headed cotton ball looked at him- like Deceit actually had murdered someone (although Deceit would concede that when those looks were directed at Remus... it was pretty justified).

But on the subject of things he hated! Being in The Conscious! Whenever he appeared it felt like a million little needles pricking him and reminding him that he was unwelcome. Another con: Deceit struggled without the ability to flow through rooms, undetectable, like in his half of the mindscape. He was far too exposed for his liking.

Remus, however, loved being topside, and now that word about him was out he was visiting constantly. Remus also loved doing things that were dangerous and hazardous to himself and others when left unsupervised. And Deceit (regrettably) loved Remus. So.

It was as the snake lifted his head to see a very upset Patton that he began to question if love was worth it, though. This was going to go so well for them.

Deceit had done what he always did when he was thrust into a situation he wanted no part in. He shut his mouth and observed. And instead of yelling at them, or having a fucking heart attack and insisting that Thomas was a terrible person, Patton extended an offer to prolong their time together. Because nothing about Morality was consistent or made even a little sense.

Deceit had steered Remus away and teleported them back home as soon as they were out of sight. Immediately, Remus turned to him with his hands on his hips and his nose scrunched up.

“Since when do you care about making a good impression? You love fucking with them! I know I do.”

“Correction: I don’t fuck with them, I make a formal appearance and explain my point, only to have them act as though I’m fucking with them. I sure love that! My goddamn favorite.”

“Okay, we both know how dramatic you love to get with your ‘formal appearances’. I say split the difference and just drive a screwdriver through his eye; it makes you harder to ignore and it saves you tons of energy! Or show up naked- he’d have a fit!”

“Because I totally wanted to show up in the first place,” Deceit tossed himself onto the couch, (he hardly had to keep up appearances here). Remus flopped down next to him and took up the rest of the sofa without even trying. He wrapped his arms around the other’s middle, right below Deceit’s third set of limbs.

“I was doing fine on my own!” Remus explained, punctuating the point by burying his face in Deceit’s ribs.

“Objectively you weren’t.”

“You know we can’t really hurt each other. I couldn’t have done anything worse than mentally scar Patton!” Remus’ voice was muffled by the fabric of Deceit’s shirt, but he made no move to get up.

“It’s not them I’m worried about, you moron.”

The snake-like trait heard a tiny gasp from below him. Remus dragged himself up to throw his arms around Deceit’s shoulders.

“Awwww, you care about me, that’s so embarrassing,” he cooed, smashing their lips together messily. He was grinning more softly than usually when he pulled away.

Despite Deceit’s best efforts, a cackle escaped him. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, halfheartedly pushing Remus back. He let himself wrap a few arms around the creative side as his laughter subsided. For a moment, they were calm.

“I wasn’t being serious, by the way. I know you’re absolutely impervious to emotion.”

“I’m fine,” Remus’ response was too quick.

“Where do you expect to get by lying to me? You think I don’t know why you were so invested in your most recent project? You think I don’t know why you felt the need to crawl up to The Conscious for caffeine instead of conjuring your own rancid brew like usual? I know you’re distracting yourself, Honey.”

The other trait was silent for an uncomfortable stretch. When he spoke next, it was barely more than a whisper.

“... Sorry, Dee.”

That shook Deceit down to his core. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset at Remus, and he wouldn’t dare think of any of this as his fault. The protective side pulled him up to look him dead in the eyes.

“Hey- look at me. I’m not angry. Don’t ever think that I’m mad at you for missing your br- for missing him.”

Slowly, Remus nodded, and Deceit let go of his face. “We don’t need to talk about it,” the reptilian amended.

If Remus had made him talk all the times that he’d been overflowing with emotion. All the times he’d sworn on his life it wasn’t because he missed Virgil, but of course it was. If Rem had forced him to drag it all out, rather than just holding him close and letting him distract himself- Deceit was sure he would have died by now. So he returned the favor.

He heard the hitching of Remus’ breath as the trait tried desperately to fight down sobs, but he didn’t say anything. It was impossible not to hold some resent for the “light sides”, when this is what they did to them. When this is what they were left with.

He held Remus close and never, ever wanted to let go.

Before long, Deceit had put on a film to occupy their minds. One of their mutual favorites- Pan’s Labyrinth. They’d been completely immersed in the movie before being so rudely interrupted by a certain someone. A certain someone who was somehow an even better cook than Deceit had presumed. Despite such, he would not be swayed.

Remus, however, looked pretty damn swayed.

“That was weird, huh?” He stated, chomping on cookies (he’d seemed in much better spirits over the past half-hour, thankfully). Deceit merely raised his eyebrows, still standing in the middle of the room.

“Not a bit out of the ordinary whatsoever,” he double-spoke, too preoccupied with thought to focus on talking front-ways, “In fact, I don’t think he was put off by your assertion that he’s not usually ‘nice’. He doesn’t seem like the defensive type, does he?”

Remus shrugged, flopping face-first down into the couch and grabbing the remote.

“Whatever, now we have movie-watching snacks! They could use more finger-nail clippings, but other than that they’re almost as good as mine!”

Deceit didn’t respond. He paced the floor, tapping his fingers against his leg. Distantly, he was aware of Remus rambling about something or other- but he couldn’t think about that now. There was a very promising opportunity to consider here, if he could just gather it all together.

“Dee-Dee?” Remus had sat up now, leaning forward to peer curiously at the plotting side.

“Mhm.” Deceit muttered automatically.

“Hey, Budget Scalesona!”

“I agree completely.”

“Dee!”

Deceit’s head snapped up to look at Remus, whose face was split with a wide grin. He was practically hanging off of the arm of the couch.

“You’re scheming, aren’t you? You’ve got your scheming face on,” he said with delight, “What are we gonna do? How gory do you want it to get?”

“Nothing like that, you sadist, I’m just... thinking.” It was only about 35% sadistic, but who didn’t love to indulge in a little schadenfreude every now and then? If Patton wanted to know why they weren’t huge fans of his, well, then they’d just have to show him. It would be all too easy to get under his skin, get a nice outburst from him that would show him just how mean he could be. The best way to get to Thomas would certainly be his heart (nevermind the old saying, as the closest thing they had to a stomach side would be the insatiable pit that was Remus).

“I think we’ll have to finish this film later, Dearest,” Deceit hissed, smirking rather slyly.

Remus sighed dreamily, leaning his chin on his hands.

“You’re so hot when you’re planning revenge.”

Chapter Three Link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/616160448347275265/complexities-unknowable-chapter-3

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authorized-trash · 4 years

Text

The Passage of Identity and Time

2116 Words

Analogince

Virgil escapes to a better family, one that’s much more accepting.

Warnings: Anxiety disorder, depression, homophobia, transphobia, dysphoria, cussing, panic attacks, heavy crying, misgendering, use of deadname

Virgil didn’t start out his life as Virgil.

He started it out as Amber.

Born in small town USA in the year 1998, a baby named Amber was born. Her parents were ecstatic. The gender of the child did not matter to them, only that they had one. They had been trying for a child for months before the news of Amber arrived.

The baby was small and wrinkly, as most are. Her father called her a raisin, earning a swat on the arm from the mother.

Amber grew to a healthy height and weight for a two-year-old. She could talk and walk by now and was quite the rowdy child. Her hair was growing in curly and that odd almost-black brown her mother was known for. Her eyes were a deep brown, with little specks of amber around the iris. Long lashes surrounded the round eyes, making her quite the lovely child.

(“Oh, she’ll grow up to be quite the lovely child.”)

Amber continued to grow, and by the time she turned seven, she had shot up to four foot seven, a good head taller than all of her peers. She had cut her hair by now, a cute bob all the teachers loved. Her young idea of fashion was mud stained shorts and tank-tops.

By the time Amber hit ten, she could tell something was wrong. She didn’t understand why she suddenly couldn’t play football with the boys, and why she couldn’t just go to grandma’s Easter party in pants and a shirt.

(“That’s not a very feminine look Amber, you are a young lady, and you’re old enough now to act like it.”)

For now she could ignore the growing feeling of discomfort in her skin. Amber could pretend nothing was wrong. And when the other girls commented on her odd nature, she dubbed herself a tomboy.

That’s right, a tomboy. The totally normal option, and the only correct one.

The only socially correct one.

… But then puberty hit.

Amber hated how her thirteen-year-old body changed so quickly. She was five foot eight and had been dubbed ‘giraffe’ by the nasty boys in school. Her height didn’t bother her, however. No, it was the hips that thickened, and the chest. She hated it, hated that she hated it. She didn’t think she was bad looking, per say, just… She didn’t look herself. She didn’t see a future in the person she saw in the mirror.

With the self-loathing came the depression, and with the depression came the anxiety. There was so much of it. By the time she turned fourteen, Amber couldn’t do anything more than stare at her wall for hours, too anxious to move, anxious because she wasn’t getting done, anxious for what this could mean for her. Anxious for the grades, but too anxious to get up and do something about them.

Around this time is when she started looking at her family at an outside point of few. Picket fence, white, Christian people. Extremely conservative, and right winged. She started finding flaws in their logic, started resenting every word that came out of their mouth.

Amber was a sheltered child, and only received a device with access to social media at fifteen. There, she found an escape, making friends.

She discovered the term ‘Transgender’ online.

Everything clicked in that moment. The more research the more tears. Amber outright sobbed as she read, this was it. This had to be. She tested it out.

(“He found what he was looking for, and he knew in his heart it was the right choice.”)

She loved the way the pronouns sounded, beaming, she ran downstairs to her- his parents. His, him, he. God, did that sound so nice.

Amber ran downstairs to his parents, but stopped. They were talking again. About the people who pretended to be a different gender. It hit Amber like a ton of bricks.

They were talking about people like him.

He walked right back into his room and cried.

The anxiety worsened to nearly unbearable amounts.

Amber continued to research and found that he wanted to save up for a binder. He began a savings account, saving every penny he got his hands on.

It took ages, but he finally, finally, convinced his mother to cut his hair.

(“You look like a guy now Amber.”)

God did that comment fill him with joy.

(“You look like a butch.”)

Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing, lesbians are lit af.

(“Do you really like it cut that short?”)

No shit.

Amber had never felt more confident, but there was one thing missing.

A proper name.

He scoured every male baby name he could find. Scrolled through every writer’s website. Hell, he even looked at the girls names to find one.

It wasn’t until he was studying old literature when he found it.

Virgil.

He loved the way it sounded. Virgil. Such a nice name, genuinely extremely aesthetic in his opinion.

Amber no longer fit, it didn’t feel right. It never felt right. Virgil.

Virgil.

He was now a junior in highschool, owned a binder, had short hair, wore baggier clothes, and went by Virgil openly at school. By now the hate had long since died down, and he was decently happy. Still ridiculously and ludicrously anxious all the tie, but that was something to look into at a later date.

Right now, however, he had to get away from his home.

He loved his parents, but they were just so… hateful towards any kind of minorities. POC, LGBT, and anyone who wasn’t a white Christian were seen as sinful in their eyes. Virgil was tired of being forced to attend a church about a religion he didn’t know if he believed. He was tired of listening to their bullshit.

So when the time came that he went to college, he moved into a apartment He had gotten scholarships due to grades he had been careful to keep up and didn’t have to rely on his parents money.

His roommate, an agender person by the name of Logan Thomasson, was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Supportive too. Logan and him hit it off. Logan was a bit hesitant at first, but eventually told Virgil that xe used xe/xyr. Virgil smiled and told them he’d accept xyr no matter what.

Virgil’s parents didn’t notice his efforts to distance himself at first. Not until the second semester of his second year, when they had heard nothing from him. By now Virgil had long since started testosterone, and his voice had dropped significantly. It was almost time for summer break, and Virgil was making plans to stay at Logan’s for the break again, when he got the call.

“Amber, honey, are you there?” His mother called into her phone with that sickeningly sweet voice she used when she wanted to sound nice. Virgil gulped audibly, staring across the room at Logan, who was sitting with him to keep his nerves down.

“Yes mother?”

“Are you sick dear? What’s wrong?”

“No mom, I’m not sick.”

“Then why is your voice so deep, Amber? You know I hate it when you lie.”

Virgil bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, feeling the tears fall. He couldn’t delay the inevitable. Sure, maybe it was a shitty thing to say to his mother over the phone and not in person, but he wouldn’t be able to stand her face.

“I’m not.. I’m not Amber, mother.”

“… What? Sweetheart of course you’re Amber, what has gotten into you?” By now Logan had gotten and moved across the room, and xe was sitting on xyr knees in front of Virgil’s hand, putting a hand on his knee.

“No mom, I go by- I go by Virgil now. I’ve been taking testosterone treatment for a year and a half now.”

“Amber.”

“No- Mom it’s not-“ Virgil choked up, “It’s not Amber, I’m sorry, I’m-“

“Amber I’m coming to pick you up. That college isn’t good for you. I knew we shouldn’t have sent you to a damn liberal school,” his mother could be heard shuffling around, presumably covering the phone with her hand, “Adam, your daughter believes she’s a boy, a boy Adam.”

Virgil started sobbing now, sliding off his seat. Logan was quick to scoop him up in xyr arms, holding him tightly. Virgil rested his forehead on xyr shoulder, looking at the phone in his trembling hand.

“Mama please,” he mumbled wetly, watching the screen fill with tears. The world becoming a blur. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t take this, he was going to have an anxiety attack.

“No, Amber, your father and I will be there shortly. Goodbye.”

The phone beeped, and Virgil threw it.

He cumbled in on himself, crying hysterically. He wanted that to go better, damnit. Maybe a little acceptance. Anything. God, it hurt so bad.

Logan shifted him around so that xe could pet his hair, mumbling xyr stupid math equations in his ear the way xe did, in that stupidly endearing way that Virgil loved so much.

His parents, true to their word, arrived that night.

They didn’t bother to knock. Virgil didn’t even know how they knew where he lived.

Logan was the one to see them when they arrived, Virgil had locked himself in his room. Logan had suggested it actually, god Virgil loved xem so much.

“I do not believe you are supposed to be here.”

“Amber lives here, yes? Where is she, we’re leaving. You would not believe how this place has contorted her mind.”

“Ma’am, you need to leave. Both you and your husband.”

“Now who do you think you ar-“

“I’ve already contacted security. The officer is a good friend of mine, they will see you out,” Logan smiled over the couple’s heads, at the officer who was standing in the door.

The couple spun around, spotting the officer. By now Virgil had poked his head around the door. He might as well watch his parents leave, this may very well be the last time he says them this close, or not through a picture.

This was a mistake on his part however, because when his mother flipped around to confront Logan again, she spotted him.

“Amber! Sweetheart! You have to come with us! I’m not letting my baby go to Hell!”

Virgil crept out from behind the door, looking levelly at his mother, “No mum, I’m not leaving. Now I believe Logan asked you to leave. This is his-“

“Our, Virgil, how many times to I have to tell you it’s our apar-“

“This is Logan’s home as much as mine, and xe wants you to leave.”

By now the security officer had already gotten Virgil’s dad out the door, and had walked up behind the mother.

“Ma’am, these two have asked you to leave multi-“

“Xe? XE?! Amber! These are demons! You are possessed, please baby, come with us- please!”

“Ma’am! Either you leave or I arrest you, that is a direct order! Out, now!” The officer shouted, furious. They escorted the woman to the door, Virgil’s mother throwing a fit all the while.

“You’re all evil in the eyes of god! You will repent one day! You will!!”

And with that the door shut.

Virgil gave a small, defeated smile, looking at Logan. Logan breathed heavily out of xyr mouth, before walking up to the dark haired young male. Xe gave him a small kiss at the top of his head, ruffling his hair.

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Xe said softly. Virgil snorted softly.

“You think they’ll still let me go to Thanksgiving?” He joked.

Logan laughed.

A week past and Virgil had done nothing but delete the nonstop flow of messages from his old friends and family. He had no reason to talk to them. Not anymore.

He and Logan had started dating since then, and both were extremely happy. Hell, they had even been debating the pros and cons of inviting the cute security guard, who was named Roman, into their relationship. The guard had been flirting nonstop with the two of them, and honestly, they were smitten by the non-binary officer.

A few months later found them all happily watching movies on the couch with Logan’s ball python Dee.

A year later found them all happily married, with Roman’s brother Remus as best man.

Months after that found them adopting an adorable baby named Patton. The child was a spring loaded ball of red curls and freckles.

Virgil didn’t start out life as Virgil.

But he sure as hell didn’t end it as Amber.

A little fic a did as a sort of vent

I wrote all in an hour and a half, and I honestly don’t think I have it in me to go back through and fix it if there’s mistakes.

#logan #patton #virgil #roman #analogince #analogical #agender logan #nonbinary roman #trans male virgil #misgendering #transphobia #homophobia #anxiety #depression #deadname use #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #deceit mention #remus mention

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tzaphki · 4 years

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Blog Mechanics! :D

Originally titled “Quick Rundown of Blog Mechanics! :D” but if you read the whole thing you’ll see why I changed it.

In this rundown we will discuss prompts, tagging, organization (with a subsection on ship organization), warnings, ratings, and what you won’t see.

Prompts:

Prompts are found by using #prompts. All prompt lists have a second tag, which is the name of the list. When submitting a prompt, use the name and the number of the prompt. If you want to be extra sure the right prompt has been received, you can write the prompt out in the ask. Prompts can also be of your own creation, of course.

As for ships, if you do not know the name, especially for poly ships, it's totally okay and encouraged to just write Character A/Character B/Character C (romantic pairing) or Character A & Character B (platonic pairing).

If there is a specific prompt that you would like to see in a pre-existing universe, be sure to include the name of the verse, typed out or abbreviated.

Here is an exemplar example of a prompt ask:

FLUFF 18 "I wish we could live together already," Virgil/Janus/Remus, NLOL

This translates roughly to: "I wish to request prompt eighteen - "I wish we could live together already" - from the FLUFF prompt list for the Virgil/Janus/Remus ship, specifically in the New Lease On Life 'verse."

Organization:

#prompts: Use this tag to find a prompt you would like to submit!

#not mine: Fan works that I did not write but enjoyed and would like to share.

#tzaph made a thing: All fan works I did write.

#rambles: I’m talking about either something that probably isn’t important but might have context clues for a project in it or problems I have encountered while working on a project.

#tw (trigger): Anything triggering will be tagged so if need be you can block the tag.

#angst: The sad pieces that stay sad (for that post at least).

#hurt/comfort: Pieces that are hurt/comfort.

#fluff: The happiest, most tooth-rotting thing ever (for that post).

#angst with a happy ending: It’s sad but it gets better (but it’s really sad before it gets happy).

#angst fluff: It’s a toss up as to which is more but they’re both there.

#mina made a thing: All fan works Mina wrote.

#belt boi speaks: Mina’s version of #rambles.

#sanders sides fanfiction: Sanders Sides fics.

#bnha fanfiction: BNHA fics.

For the sake of my sanity, works are tagged with a fandom as well as subcategories of the fandom tag.

Fandom Organization:

Oh boy this is gonna be fun.

Within the #sanders sides fanfiction tag, we have the following (this is going to be long, there are so many of them, I am so sorry):

All pairing tags (except for #creativitwins) are typed as they appear below and are prefaced by romantic, platonic, or familial but there are already so many it would be cruel to everyone for me to triple the list. Yes, I tag it twice. I could not find ship names for a large number of the poly ships so if they look like random letters mushed together I swear they made sense at one point.

#emile picani: Any work that has Dr. Emile Picani in it.

#janus sanders: Any work that has Janus “Deceit” Sanders in it.

#logan sanders: Any work that has Logan “Logic” Sanders in it.

#patton sanders: Any work that has Patton “Morality” Sanders in it.

#remus sanders: Any work that has Remus “Creativity” Sanders in it.

#remy sanders: Any work that has Remy “Sleep” Sanders in it.

#roman sanders: Any work that has Roman “Creativity” Sanders in it.

#virgil sanders: Any work that has Virgil “Anxiety” Sanders in it.

Ship time I guess.

#analogical: Virgil/Logan

#anxceit: Virgil/Janus

#creativitwins: Roman & Remus

#dukeceit: Remus/Janus

#dukexiety: Remus/Virgil

#intruality: Remus/Patton

#intrulogical: Remus/Logan

#loceit: Logan/Janus

#logicality: Logan/Patton

#logince: Logan/Roman

#moceit: Patton/Janus

#moxiety: Patton/Virgil

#prinxiety: Roman/Virgil

#remile: Remy/Emile (This one is only a side ship, I don’t write Remile-centric because I am not familiar enough with the characters yet)

#roceit: Roman/Janus

#royality: Roman/Patton

If you can’t tell I like lists in alphabetical order. :/ Also we’ve definitely reached the ones I made up on the fly at 3 AM.

#analoceit: Virgil/Logan/Janus

#analogicality: Virgil/Logan/Patton

#analogimus: Virgil/Logan/Remus

#analogince: Virgil/Logan/Roman

#anamoceit: Virgil/Patton/Janus

#anaroceit: Virgil/Roman/Janus

#anaroyality: Virgil/Roman/Patton

#anxceitmus: Virgil/Janus/Remus

#intrualiceit: Remus/Patton/Janus

#intrulogicality: Remus/Logan/Patton

#intrumoxiety: Remus/Patton/Virgil

#loceitmus: Logan/Janus/Remus

#logicaliceit: Logan/Patton/Janus

#logincality: Logan/Roman/Patton

#logince & intrulogical: Logan/Roman & Logan/Remus

#loginceit: Logan/Roman/Janus

#prinxiety & dukexiety: Roman/Virgil & Remus/Virgil

#roceit & dukeceit: Roman/Janus & Remus/Janus

#royaliceit: Roman/Patton/Janus

#royality & intruality: Roman/Patton & Remus/Patton

Oof these are bad but not as bad as the fives. :/

#analoceitmus: Virgil/Logan/Janus/Remus

#analogicaliceit: Virgil/Logan/Patton/Janus

#analogicalimus: Virgil/Logan/Patton/Remus

#analogimus & analogince: Virgil/Logan/Remus & Virgil/Logan/Roman

#analoginceit: Virgil/Logan/Roman/Janus

#anamoceitmus: Virgil/Patton/Janus/Remus

#anaroceit & anxceitmus: Virgil/Roman/Janus & Virgil/Janus/Remus

#anaroyaliceit: Virgil/Roman/Patton/Janus

#anaroyality & intrumoxiety: Virgil/Roman/Patton & Remus/Patton/Virgil

#intrulogicaliceit: Remus/Logan/Patton/Janus

#lamp: Logan/Virgil/Patton/Roman

#loginaliceit: Logan/Roman/Patton/Janus

#logincality & intrulogicality: Logan/Roman/Patton & Remus/Logan/Patton

#loginceit & loceitmus: Logan/Roman/Janus & Logan/Janus/Remus

#royaliceit & intrualiceit: Roman/Patton/Janus & Remus/Patton/Janus

The strangest things I have ever written (ship names not ships themselves) are in a list below. Warning: the first one may eat your brain cells if you try to pronounce it.

#analogicaliceitmus: Virgil/Logan/Patton/Janus/Remus

#anaroyaliceit & anamoceitmus: Virgil/Roman/Patton/Janus & Virgil/Patton/Janus/Remus

#dlamp: Janus/Logan/Virgil/Patton/Roman

#lamp & analogicalimus: Logan/Virgil/Patton/Roman & Virgil/Logan/Patton/Remus

#loginaliceit & intrulogicaliceit: Logan/Roman/Patton/Janus & Remus/Logan/Patton/Janus

And of course, my very favorite...

#drlamp: All the boys, platonic Creativitwins. (Janus/Logan/Virgil/Patton/Roman & Janus/Remus/Logan/Virgil/Patton)

Disclaimer on the ship list: Once I get more comfortable with Remy and Emile, they will likely be incorporated into this list, greatly increasing the length.

Of course there is our newer #bnha fanfiction tag, which thankfully has a shorter list.

Tagging:

If anyone is interested in being tagged, I will keep a list/spreadsheet of everyone who wants to be tagged and for what content they want to see. All you need to do is message me and I’ll put you on the sheet. :)

Warnings:

I will use the Ao3 warnings in addition to things I know can be triggering. If I miss anything on any piece I ever publish, tell me! I will be so thankful and will fix it ASAP. Anything triggering will be tagged with #tw (trigger).

Ratings:

Here’s my rating scale:

General: I might say crap or maybe even damn, piss, or ass. There won’t be much if any violence or highly triggering content.

Teen and Up: I may go so far as to say f*ck once or twice, but the language is mostly PG-13. Might have higher amounts of violence and/or trigger content.

Mature: Bets are off. No smut. However, language, violence, appropriately tagged triggering content, and that sort of stuff is likely to be there. I will always tag everything I can think of that could be triggering, and as always, tell me if I miss something.

What You Won’t See Here:

You will never, ever, EVER, see anything anti-LGBTQ+, ableist, racist, anti-Semitic, misogynistic, etc from the author or in the comments. If I see it in the comments, the user who said it will be blocked, this is the warning. I hate blocking people, but this is a tolerant space, and I’m not tolerant of intolerance, bigots, supremacists, or people who are purposefully mean to people just trying to live.

It is possible, however, that some of those aforementioned things will be in a story, and it will be appropriately tagged (I’d say scout’s honor but I was never a boy scout).

No arguments in the comments or with me. No one wants to read an argument. If you really want to argue, you can DM me.

I don’t write smut. I just. I can’t. It’s too weird to me to write, I try not to write about things I don’t know about and as a very single, very asexual person it’s not something I’m familiar with.

I don’t deliberately write unsympathetic sides. Sometimes someone might be an asshole (not too often these guys are kinda baby animals in people bodies), but I don’t do unsympathetic. Here’s why.

These guys all have Thomas’ best interests at heart. But sometimes, they get confused or they just don’t know how to help. It’s sort of like doing bad things for a good reason, but you didn’t mean to do anything bad. You did it on accident. Mistakes happen. They’re trying their best. And because they are trying their best, I write them as sympathetic.

Off the topic of this serious stuff, you probably won’t see another super dense, super long post from me again unless it’s a story.

I’m so sorry this was so long, it got away from me. But I got everything I could think of out, so the purpose was accomplished.

#information #long post

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Communication Issues (Alternative Title: Three Touch-Starved, Insecure, Metaphysical Beings Constantly Misinterpreting Each Other and Yet Somehow Falling in Love)- Chapter One

Ao3, MasterPost, Chap.2, Chap.3

Relationships: Eventual Analogince, implied Moceit

I usually have new stuff up on Wednesdays, Sorry this is late. I hope the length and angst will make up for this slight :) Also, because of how long this fucker is, I did not go in and manually add italics, so you can just. Imagine them there when you need them.

Warnings: Panic attack (?), overworking oneself, self-hatred and insecurity, Excessive Amounts of Hurt/comfort, eventual friends-to-lovers, slow burn, arguing, crying, angst w/ a happy ending, swearing, creative blocks, mentions of isolating oneself, excessive hugging.

Word Count: 6,396

What do you do when you find someone crying, and it’s all your fault? What do you say when you hear the muffled sobs and frantic words behind the blood-red door? When you know that, no matter how much you never wanted to hurt him- never wanted to hurt anyone- you still did. Is there anything you can do to fix it, when you’ve spent so long pretending that nothing was broken? When you’ve spent so long pretending that you didn’t care if things were broken or not?

Well, if you're Logan Sanders, a metaphysical representation of the logical thinking of one Thomas Sanders (and you are, for the purposes of this story), then you book it down the hall in a desperate effort to find someone more emotionally competent to solve the problem.

The search is short, lasting just to the bottom of the stairs. As soon as your feet touch down on the living room carpet, your haste brings you slamming into just the side you were looking for. Hands wrap around your middle, narrowly stopping you from stumbling over.

“Geez, L, what’s the-” Virgil doesn’t finish his sentence, his expression wrinkling in concern when he sees your face. He leans down to your level, his gaze flickering over you to search for injuries.

You take a step back and shake your head, struggling to explain.

“Roman- I- He-” you’re supposed to be articulate, intelligent, eloquent- but when it comes to feelings, you never are. You never have been. You try so hard nowadays, but God, do you still need help sometimes. Like these times. These confusing, awful times when you hear dear sweet Creativity sobbing self-deprications loud enough to be heard from well outside of his room, many of which are dramatized repetitions of things that you have said to him.

“Is he okay?!” Virgil, bless him, snaps you out of the oncoming mental panic before it renders you any more useless.

“Physically, yes- as far as I know- but emotionally, well-” you cut off, terrified of choking up. He seems to catch your meaning, though.

Virgil doesn’t ask any follow up questions. He grabs your arm and the room blurs. Static hisses against your ears and pricks at your skin, this form of transportation being mostly foreign to you. You don’t even rise up, merely popping into existence right in front of Roman’s door. Virgil throws it open before you have the chance to react.

Roman doesn’t notice the increased population of his room, which is concerning. His back is to the door as he works fervently at his desk, but evidently not making progress, shaking as he is. He’s muttering under his breath, much quieter than what you’d overheard before, but you can hear distinct utterances like ‘unrealistic… overused… disappointment…’ et cetera, et fucking cetera.

“Roman, what happened?” Virgil’s voice is distorted, loud and quiet all at once. You barely keep yourself from covering your ears.

Roman clamps his mouth shut mid-wail, his hands spasming in surprise against his desk. His quill drops to the paper with a soft clatter, a sound that echoes about the walls. Then, the only noise left is his staggering breathing.

Slowly, Roman peers over his shoulder at you, eyes puffy and red with mascara practically dripping down his chin.

A gasp draws from you, against your will, at the sight.

Roman makes some strangled throat-clearing sounds before trying to speak.

“Oh, hey-”

“Nope, none of that,” Virgil is across the room in two strides, effortlessly taking the lead in this situation. You can’t push yourself any further into the room, but you do shut the door behind you. Probably best not to involve any of the more unpredictable sides in what was sure to be an… emotionally charged discussion.

Roman looks absolutely mortified, jolting up from his chair and backing into the wall like a cornered animal. With distance between himself and Virgil reestablished, he then buries his face in his hands. He trembles like a leaf caught in the wind of fall, and he’d probably crumble just as easily.

Many times in your life, you’ve wished that you couldn’t feel. You even had yourself convinced that you couldn’t, for a while there. Now, all you wish is to know how to feel correctly. You’re meant to know things, Logan, aren’t you?

“Alright, so I’ve been having a bit of a rough time,” Roman’s voice cracks and wavers when he speaks, “It’s just writer’s block. Sure, I got a tad bit frustrated- but I’ll be back on track in no time, I promise! You needn’t concern yourself with my momentary lapse, I’ll have a new story for you by Saturday at the latest!”

He’s looking at you. Virgil is standing right next to him, but he’s looking at you, all the way across the room. He’s trying to… appease you? Reason with you? Give you what he thinks you want?

Say something, Logan.

“You need to take a break, Ro,” Virgil’s voice slips back to normal, “C’mon, you’re overworking yourself,” he tries to be nonchalant, but it’s obvious just how concerned he is. You can hardly blame him. When he reaches his hand out, Roman recoils, showing his face enough to see the guilt written across it.

You need to say something, goddammit.

“I can’t just ‘take a break’,” he spits, “I can’t stop now. I need to get this done first- I’ll stop when I finally do this properly. So, maybe never, right?” He laughs, horrible and twisted, and he looks at you because he’s really, truly asking you. Is he really expecting you to agree? Is that the impression you’ve left him with?

You say something.

“This is all my fault.”

Clearly, neither of them expected that. You press on.

“Your worth as a side-” no, not quite right, “-Your worth as a person is not measured solely by your productivity. I know we’ve talked before about the damages of excessive perfectionism, but I know I may not have been effective in ‘showing not telling’ that your ideas don’t need to be flawless. My harshness. My Coldness. I thought I was doing better, but obviously... I was wrong.” Again.

Virgil looks half-way to anger, but it’s unclear what he’s directing it towards. You aren’t sure of anything right now, really, except for the general upset tugging at your stomach.

“L, no, if this is anybody’s fault- it’s mine,” he turns to Roman, and what. “I didn’t know how hard you were taking all this. Dude, I had no idea. But I owe you an apology, I have for a while, for making fun of you about your insecurity. Like, kind of a lot. Long after you stopped doing it to me. Honestly, I can’t believe that I didn’t realize how much it was actually getting to you.”

“What? Virgil, I truly appreciate what you are trying to do, but I was clearly the one who pushed Roman too far,” you find the courage to step a little closer as you argue Virgil’s point, spurred on by how ridiculous you find this exchange.

“Well, I mocked his sensitivities. This is my responsibility!”

“But you didn’t know you were doing that- I acted like I didn’t care for him, and now he thinks I don’t! I am doubtlessly the one to blame.”

Virgil looks ready to snap back, and you’d be just as ready to retort, but a quiet sniffle alerts both of your attention to the matter still at hand. Roman, standing back against the wall, growing increasingly bewildered. He’s still crying, a surprisingly open display for a prideful trait such as himself, but you get the impression that he simply can’t hold it back anymore. You can see him squirm under Virgil’s and your gazes.

“It- It’s nice, that you both are attempting to take the blame for my failings, but you don’t have to. I can figure this out for myself. Then, I’ll finally prove myself to you, and no one will need to worry about anything. Which is why I need to keep working.”

“You have proven yourself to me,” Virgil darts from the desk to Roman. He grabs the trait’s ink-stained arm, gaze fierce and unyielding.

“Why, then,” Roman mutters, eyes downcast, “doesn’t it feel like I have?”

“I never tried to do right by you. Like you did for me.”

You watch them sway, awkward, and finally, finally push movement into your legs. You step to Roman’s other side, much slower. It probably appears to be deliberate, but in truth you just feel unsure. You place your hand on his shoulder in a way that is hopefully comforting.

“The same, in a different sense, is true for myself. But if you would allow us to make it up to you…?” you aren’t sure where to go from there. Virgil nods, though, granting you a hint of pride. You don’t quite buy it when he says he’s part of the problem, but you’d rather not start any arguments at this particular moment.

Roman won’t look at either of you for longer than a second, like he’s not sure if you’re serious. Just so he knows that you are, you gesture to your necktie, giving him the tiniest smile.

He buckles to the ground immediately, a mess of sobs, the both of you letting yourself be dragged along. He clings to Virgil, and you try to keep an arm around him as well. He needs all the support he can get, really.

“I-I’m so so-rry, I don’t- I-”

Virgil shushes him and shoots you a deeply concerned look: This is really bad. I’m not letting him go. You rub Roman’s back as he shakes and return your friend’s gaze with a nod: I’m not either. We’re going to help him. Don’t worry.

The three of you sit there for what feels like hours as he cries, and cries, and cries. None of you say a word, letting him get it all out. You let him hold onto you- you hold him as well, because you’re nearly as dismayed and unsure as he is.

But eventually, you need to talk. Once he finally settles, his head resting against your collar and his legs splayed across Virgil’s lap, it’s you who gets the proverbial ball rolling.

“You already know that overworking yourself leads to exhaustion, which in turn leads to an overall drop in productivity and quality of work,” Roman’s eyes fill with guilt, but you’re quick to elaborate, “but that isn’t at all my primary concern. I won’t carry on acting like it is for a moment longer, now that I see how it’s hurting you. Hurting you is something I would never intend. You mean so much to me. There are so many arguments I could use to convince you why you need to give yourself a break, but I’ll settle with this: a hypothetical ‘perfect story’ is not worth your suffering, and it never will be.”

Roman looks up at you, once more crying, so that was probably a very unhelpful thing to say. But he leans into you and hugs you close, recontextualizing his emotional display. Relief washes over you.

“Thank you, Logan.”

Virgil clears his throat.

“I know I’m not as, um, articulate as Lo is, but- for what it’s worth- I care about you, too, and all.”

You stretch out the arm that you had around Roman’s back, pulling Virgil into the hug. Roman lets out a shuddering breath from where he’s cradled between the both of you. It’s the deep, relieved breath that means the sobbing is through with, leaving only tired eyes and silence.

It is at this point of alleviated tension that the uncomfortable nature of the floor begins irking you. Like hell you and Virgil would live Creativity alone like this, so after brief deliberation you stand to move as a unit. An amoeba of facets making their way down the hall, in a manner likely comical (though thankfully no one is around to see). Your room is the optimal place to rest, as it eases emotions and calms overthinking minds, even if it is a little chilly.

You let your fellow traits drop down onto the couch, passing Roman the TV remote. Yes, whatever you like to watch, you inform him. Yes, really, anything, you confirm, waving your hand to conjure some blankets for them. The smile he gives you, though small, is enough to boost your hopes considerably.

You really can’t fix everything- at least not immediately. But perhaps, with Virgil to fill in your gaps, you’ll be able to make things right for the Prince.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

So looking after this insecure dumbass is totally your job now. Said dumbass, of course, disagrees strongly; he tells you he’s doing better, and thanks so much for the one afternoon of help, Virgil, but he can totally take it from here. You do not give a single shit about what Roman claims, because he is very obviously lying, because he doesn’t want to be a burden. Yeah, as if.

You’re taking care of that idiot if it kills you.

Thankfully, Logan is on the same page as you (proverbial page, as he would specify). It almost surprised you that he didn’t make himself scarce as soon as he told you about the situation, but it’s certainly a pleasant surprise to have him by your side in this. Roman needs all the help he can get, and you can’t think of anyone better.

The pair of you only begrudgingly leave him alone after a sufficient several hours of Comfort Time, retreating to the hall so he can rest. He looked so fuckin’ tired, face a dull red and eyes puffy, but he was smiling. You count it as a temporary win.

The first thing that you do, naturally, is slam your back against the wall and let yourself slide down to the floor out of sheer emotional exhaustion.

Logan sits next to you, much less aggressively. It’s a nice gesture, considering how he absolutely despises sitting on the ground and this is the second time he’s had to do it in one day. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He keeps trying to say something, before clamping back down on it. You bump your shoulder against his, telling him that whatever it is, you’re listening.

“I feel-” which is already a testament to how serious he’s taking the situation- “horrible.”

“Yeah, same- I mean, big mood- no, that’s worse, fuck-” you take a deep breath, hitting your head back against the wall, “I mean, me too. So, at least there’s that, right?”

Logan shoots you one of his patented Microscopic Smiles.

“I suppose that counts for something, yes.”

You manage a laugh, leaning even more against your friend. You’ve got a whole contradictory bundle of feelings coiled up in your chest, and it sucks, but also it’s a relief, but also it’s the worst thing ever. You exhale slowly, your eyes falling shut.

“I don’t wanna leave him alone, ya know?”

“I know. We’ve done all we can do for now, though.”

“I guess.”

“I’m just glad he let us help at all.”

“Well, assuming we did help. Who knows, we could’ve made him feel a million times worse by confronting him, and now-”

He cuts off your spiraling immediately.

“But we didn’t. He clearly needed intervention by that point. Besides, If we’d been making it worse, it’s unlikely he would’ve let us stay for so long. Nor would he have accepted your plan of ‘helping him deal with all this shit from now on, no matter what he says.’”

“Right,” you take another deep breath, “You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

You elbow Logan in the side, playfully. He smiles again, wider and brighter in a way that most others probably wouldn’t notice. It could, from some angles, in the right lighting, possibly maybe be considered a little bit pretty. Not that you think about things like that, of course, that would just be weird.

You stop leaning so heavily against Logan, only to find how much your back hurts from sitting in the hall. Come to think of it, the hall might not be the best place to calm down from emotionally charged interactions. The only issue is that your room is literally the exact opposite of a good place to chill out right now, and you’re reluctant to move.

“Hey, uh, would it be okay if I- like, my room isn’t the best for times like this, and I-”

Logan’s already standing, taking your arm to help you up.

“Come on. I’ll set up the Planetarium for us.”

“Thanks,” God, you’re thankful for somebody like him. Such a simple word, when you aren’t crazy about spelling out all of the gratitude and nervous tension that lays behind it, and he picks up on the layers perfectly. He gets it- he gets you.

Things will be okay.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

Once upon a time (ha), you felt appreciated. Of course you did, else how would you remember it so vividly? How would you long for it so desperately? Yes, you can safely say that you, Roman Sanders, had once been cared for. But that was countless screw-ups ago, before hundreds of your careless insults, your many vicious words followed by weak apologies and unchanging ways. The distant past of a disgraced royal- one far too imperfect, far too cruel to be forgiven without first proving himself time and time again.

That’s what you’d thought, anyway. When you expressed such beliefs to other sides for the first time, just a few mornings after said sides comforted you in the midst of a breakdown, they told you it was the stupidest thing they’d ever heard. Direct quote from Virgil.

It was stupid, apparently, because you were forgiven so very long ago, and you are actually considered to be better now than you were then. It shakes you up inside to think about. In a good way, for once.

They hover around you almost always, offering you plenty more of those somewhat aggressive reassurances whenever you give the vaguest hint of self-deprecation. You were sure they’d brush it under the rug after those first few days, perhaps even tease you about it, but it seemed that was completely false. It’s been a good week.

They’re with you this very morning, chatting idly while you wait for the kettle to shriek. You let the drone of Logan’s voice wash over you as you finish fixing your tea. You don’t believe all of their reassurances just yet, but God are you trying. You want it to be true- more than you’ve ever wanted anything- when Logan says their care is unconditional, or Virgil says that he likes spending so much time with you.

You turn around, the mug in your hands warm against your chest, and stare at the sides on the couch. The three of you are in your corner of the Mindscape; they had already invited themselves in when you awoke. You quite like that they do that- you still aren’t sure how to express that you want to be with them, without prompting. You would feel clingy. Greedy.

“Thank you,” you settle down Virgil, smiling groggily. He waves his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it, man. What’s on the agenda for today?”

That’s another thing. It’s not all crying and hugging, Lord knows how old that would get- but they just end up hanging out with you. Sometimes it’s just Logan, if Virgil’s having an off day, or sometimes it’s the opposite, when Logan’s particularly busy, but you really like it best when it’s the three of you.

That didn’t used to be unusual; you used to spend all of your time surrounded by all of your family (or most, in light of recent acceptances), laughing and joking and working all together. Then, slowly, you stopped, just as things became more complicated for everyone. Camaraderie was a waste of valuable time, time that could be used coming up with ideas that would finally be good enough. They got the hint easily enough, allowing you to isolate yourself until you were perfect for them.

No, you aren’t thinking about that right now! It isn’t the time to worry about how this will all have to end eventually. You’ll have to think about it soon, but not now, dammit!

You swing back a sip of scalding cinnamon tea, letting it clear both your throat and your mind.

“I have a wonderful idea for today!” You puff your chest out and straighten your back. In actuality, you haven’t had a ‘wonderful’ idea in ages, but you hope the confident stance will give you one.

It doesn’t. Logan notices this.

“I sincerely hope that this is not yet another attempt to ‘cure’ your writer’s block and attempt to get ‘back on task’?” he chides you. You falter, letting the regal pose fall away. Logan tells you that what you need is rest. You do not want to rest. But you don’t want to get lectured, either.

“I do not have any ideas for today. Or in general,” you grind out, the second part tacked on bitterly. You don’t look at them, even as Virgil knocks your elbow with his.

“Good, that means you can come play Scrabble with us.”

The hesitance must show on your face, because Logan sighs and adds:

“I will allow you to use your original- completely nonsense, meaningless, irrational- words, if butchering the English language makes the game more fun for you.”

Now that. That is a tempting offer. You really would be a fool to pass it up.

You might as well indulge yourself this much, for however longer they’re willing to let you. It’ll be a nice memory to draw from when you do get back to work.

Good God, your ribs hurt. You can’t breathe.

“I’m just saying, you can’t prove that the earth is round,” Virgil claims, staring mischievously across the table at Logan. Logan fumes. It is fucking hysterical.

“That’s ridiculous! Putting aside the overwhelming scientific evidence to the contrary for a moment, you can literally see the curve of the earth on the horizon!”

“Uhh, it looks pretty flat to me. I’m not buying your government propaganda, Lo,” Virgil’s very clearly trying not to chuckle, and his resolve is impressive. You’ve already been reduced to unintelligible cackling at their interaction. This exchange has brought the progress on the jigsaw puzzle you’d been solving together to a screeching halt, but you couldn’t care less.

“What do you mean ‘propaganda’?! This is common knowledge!”

Virgil cracks, bursting into raucous laughter. He grabs onto your arm as gravelly chuckles escape him, the both of you scrambling to keep upright. Logan narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Unbelievable. Infuriating. Intolerable, the both of you.”

You compose yourself just enough to stick your tongue out at him teasingly, before hunching right back over into your giggle fit.

Then, you notice it as it happens. The aggravated expression etched across Logan’s face shifts, but he keeps staring at you. It’s inscrutable, and also weird.

“What’re you looking at?” you challenge, voice broken up by subsiding laughter. You turn your head to Virgil, as if to say wow, what a nerd, huh?, only to find him staring at you with much the same expression.

“Guys? Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” Anxiety amends.

“I’m sure we were both just caught off guard, is all,” Logic adds, his attention redirected from you to the carpet hastily.

“In a good way, though. It’s nice to see you smile- ugh, that sounds so weird, I just meant- it’s been a long time since you’ve. Done that.”

You blink, taken aback, only to feel the dull ache in your face. You reach a hand up, pressing a finger to the corner of your upturned lips. It really has been a while since you’ve laughed like this, hasn’t it?

A selfish, malicious creature that stalks around in your chest tells you to stop smiling. If you’re happy it means that their job is done, then you’ll be all alone again. Is that what you want, Roman?

You almost listen to it. Before-

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten what you said just because Roman laughed, V.”

“Nah, you never forget anything, O keeper of memories,” Virgil flicks a puzzle piece at Logan, smirking just enough to show off his sharp teeth.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” he flicks another puzzle piece. Logan’s face twitches in what is either a barely suppressed smile or a grimace, but likely a combination of the two. When Virgil finally aims a piece to hit his face, he snaps, throwing little bits of the jigsaw back at the anxious trait.

“Wow, L, you’re really just throwing away all our progress like that? Tsk, tsk.”

“I will end you,” he lands one smack on Virgil’s nose, earning a hiss. The puzzle continues to be destroyed by their squabble.

You don’t think you could stop yourself from beaming at them, even if you wanted to. Toothy, confident, amused- oh, how you’ve missed this.

How you’ve all missed this.

It hits you with the swiftness of a bullet, right when you least expect it. You’re just sitting in the living room, idly sketching as you half-watch TV with Patton beside you on the couch. You offer a laugh when he pipes up with a pun based on whatever’s on screen, but your mind is far elsewhere.

You’ve got an idea. A really good one.

You’ve filled up a page with mindless doodling while the thought was still forming, for fear of jumping on it too suddenly and losing the inspiration, but you find it solid as you continue to mentally examine it. Perhaps a bit overeager, you flip the page, scrawling excited concept sketches across the thick, rough paper. The details flow and evolve in your mind’s eye, and it becomes something of a struggle to hold back your creative aura from infecting the common area.

That confident smile, one you’ve been wearing more and more often these past few weeks, graces your face once more. The semi-subconscious expression brings a memory from just nights ago: Logan told you that your face was built to wear such a grin (‘Speaking architecturally, of course,’ he cleared his throat awkwardly, ‘The form that you’ve chosen for yourself is suited to it. Objectively.’).

You find your smiling widening, just as it had when he first told you.

So caught up in your art, half-listening to Patton, and also vaguely following along with the show he’s watching- you don’t even glance up when Virgil rises up and seats himself at the arm of the couch. It’s the way he huffs a laugh at something Morality says that first catches your attention, and suddenly he’s got all of it.

“Virgil!”

He grimaces at the volume, tilting his head to look at you.

“Something got you excited, Ro?”

“I’ve got a story! That is to say, I’ve got a premise, but also characters! Look- it’s- come here, let me show you what I’m drawing, it’s easier than explaining,” you chatter happily, shuffling your way to Virgil’s perch. You hold your sketchbook out to him and jump into explanations.

The drawing is messy, and not nearly finished, but it’s you and it’s good and it’s new. It’s a scene- heavily annotated to explain some of the more abstract concepts in the image- depicting an ent-like creature towering over a young woman, who holds a flower crown up to him. You tell Virgil about the story based around the two, some of the major plot points already planting themselves in your brain. You inform him that it just came to you, and you’ve got so many different ideas for what these two will do, what will happen to them, and how they’ll get out of it all. When you look up from your rambling, all the excitement slips off your face. It’s replaced by awe.

Virgil is grinning, showing a good deal more of his fangs than he usually likes to, enthusiasm dancing in his eyes. You’ve never seen him emote that much ever, not for any purpose. You would be lying if you said that those huge chompers weren’t at least a little hot.

“Okay, I totally wanna hear more, but pause for a sec. I gotta get Lo, ’kay?” And with that, he’s gone as quickly as he arrived, pausing only to toss the sketchbook back to you. You twist around, eyes wide with shock, to find Patton smiling softly at you.

“You saw that, too, right? Or have I gone mad?” you ask him, earning a chuckle.

“I think Virge is proud of you,” he shuts the TV off as he talks, moving to stand, “I am, too! It sounds really cute!”

“Thank you,” Patton arches up to stretch, tossing the remote down on the couch. “-Er, where are you off to?”

“I think I’ll let you three have the living room, to talk all about your story.”

“I’d hardly mind if you wanted to hear about it!”

His eyes dart to the side, an awkward smile stretching across his face. His noticeably pink face.

“Oh, I- I was planning on spending some time with Jan today. I was about to take off, anyhow.”

“Aah,” you start sketching again, if only to spare Patton your wolfish grin, “Well, if you’ve already got plans.”

He gives you a tiny wave, sinking out immediately. Thus leaving you alone with your thoughts. Fuck.

It crosses your mind that- now you have an idea to work on, an idea you’re proud of- your slump is over. The creative block has been cured. Logan and Virgil won’t need to coddle you anymore.

Your hand ghosts over the paper, and for a second you consider tearing it up. Pretending you lost the spark, pretending you need more time and help and companionship. Guilt rises in you at even the thought of being so selfish, the doubts and worries overpowering your former giddiness completely.

You can’t imagine anything worse than that brilliant smile Virgil gave you turning to disappointment, if you pretended to lose your inspiration. Or the disdain that would surely flash in Logan’s eyes at having his work interrupted for absolutely nothing. Plus, if you did so, what’s to stop them deeming you a lost cause and abandoning you anyway?

If you’re being honest, you need approval more than anything. And dear God, it is so close. You have to tell them, and hold on to whatever scraps of praise it earns you before the three of you revert back to normal. You’ll fall back into seclusion, as that seems to be one of the few things you’re good at, and they can actually get back to their own existences.

There’s a whoosh behind you. You spin around, forcing the tension out of your shoulders.

“Well hello there!”

“I want to hear about your story,” Logan cuts straight to the point. You couldn’t care less about his bland bluntness because he is watching at you in a way so unbearably fond. They both are. You push your reservations down and present him with your sketches, diving into what you’ve come up with so far (plus a few extra points off the top of your head, which isn’t an uncommon method for how you develop plotlines).

When you’ve finished, not quite as exuberantly as earlier, Logan continues with the theme of surprising the fuck out of you that this day has established.

He settles a hand on your upper arm, but really he might as well have swept you up in a hug. You blanch, the touch fuzzing up your brain, just like it has been doing so often now and God you don’t want to lose this.

“I told you so,” he sounds playful.

“What?” you question, vaguely dazed.

“I think that L’s saying we were right about you just needing a break. Seems like the rest cleared up your burnout pretty well,” Virgil loops around to your other side, patting your shoulder awkwardly.

The euphoria from being touched is broken once you actually manage to process the words.

“Oh! Right, yeah, I'm- I'm so excited to get back to work!”

Logan removes his hand and you burn cold.

“No, you aren't,” you hear his confusion, like he's trying to unravel why that could possibly be and wow you are not as good an actor as you’d hoped. “What's upsetting you?”

You try to say that it's nothing, but your voice pitches up embarrassingly. You clear your throat, but you can't make yourself maintain eye-contact anymore.

“Dude, you can tell us what's up. Are you just overwhelmed?” Anxiety is worried and caring in a way you didn't know he was capable of and it hurts worse because you don't know how to tell him that you're just selfish. But you knew this was coming- and you aren't going to make these two waste their concerns on you any longer. The problem has been solved, Roman, get that through your skull!

“I- I suppose I'm just- I’m lamenting the end of this. It’s unimportant.”

“You are upset about the end of your writer's block?” Logan tips his head to the side and gives you a bemused look. Frustration stabs at your skin.

“No! That's a good thing, obviously it's a good thing- I'm saying that I'm going to miss… I mean, I'd gotten used to spending time with you. The both of you,” Virgil's eyebrows shoot up, Logan squints at you, so you backpedal like there's no damn tomorrow.

“See? It was stupid, I know I can't always have all the attention, any-”

“You're right, that is stupid,” Virgil cuts you off with a grumble. You must deflate visibly, though, because his voice softens, “That you think we aren't gonna hang out with you, I mean.”

You feel something. You think it’s hope. It almost feels foreign- unbelievable, even.

“What?” a murmur, too small and doubting for you to associate with it, though it must be yours. Pathetic.

Logan leans forward, as though he's studying you. Good God, who let him be so tall?

“Were you under the impression that we were going to cease contact with you once you resumed productivity?”

“Wha- I mean- when you say it like that it sounds… bad.”

“It would be bad. It would also be incredibly manipulative; being kind to you only so as to get you back in working order, rather than being kind to you to provide genuine help.”

Virgil nods his agreement.

“Yeah, you aren't getting rid of us that easy, Romano.”

You recall the first Big Conversation you had with the two left-brained sides. They'd insisted to help you, despite your lack of understanding in the beginning why they'd do so. Similarly to that talk, this is filling you with an almost painful fondness, almost too much to bear.

“But, you already helped me, just like you said you would!”

“Why did we help you, Roman?” Logan inquires, in a way that makes you feel like you should know the answer. You do not.

“Because you were worried about me?”

“Why would we be worried?”

“Because you… felt bad for me?”

He groans, tapping Virgil on the shoulder. The anxious facet rolls his eyes.

“You're our friend and we care about you, stupid.”

You clear your throat, attempting to say that you knew that (even if that isn’t entirely true), but Logan interrupts you.

“In case it wasn’t clear why, allow us to explain: one, as I’ve stated before and will likely state again, we don’t value you for your ability to create alone.”

“Two,” Virgil cuts in, “You’re, like, fun to be around. Way less stiff than us, and honestly we probably need that.”

“Three, we were never opposed to being around you even before the- this. You claimed to like being alone. And I’ll admit I’m not the best with subtext.”

Virgil looks ready to add a fourth. You don’t let him, waving your hands wildly. If you verbalized what you meant to convey, you’d definitely start sobbing, and that’s just embarrassing. Thankfully, Anxiety seems to pick up what you’re laying down, giving you a moment to collect yourself. You take a few breaths and try to pretend that you aren’t being watched like a hawk.

Aaaand you’re already crying. That’s probably the point of no return, isn’t it?

“Ha, and I thought that you two weren’t the sentimental ones,” the effect of your teasing is ruined by how much your voice wavers, “You’re just big softies, aren’t you?”

Logan’s expression is caught somewhere between concern and confusion.

“You are quite literally sobbing? How are we-”

“Shut up,” you retort. The effect is once again ruined when he comfortingly pats your back and you absolutely fall against him.

“Wow, again? You’re really set on making a habit out of this,” Virgil hovers uncomfortably apart from the set of you, eventually landing on wrapping an arm around you. And it’s so him, that you can’t help the little chuckle that breaks through your crying. You really have been doing this a lot more than you’d like lately.

“I- I’m okay,” you stammer, “I’m good- this is- just- I’m relieved. Why am I crying? I’m happy!”

“It’s alright, man.”

“Yes, take as long as you need.”

You tear yourself away from them, scrubbing at your eyes, but grinning all the same. Your skin burns, you’re shivering, but you’re sick of clinging to them and crying and the desperation that tugs at you. You feel so many things, but there’s one that’s overpowering, one thing that’s so familiar and has been so distant. It’s a blur, a mash, but it goes something like this:

The people you care about, that you work so hard for- they aren’t going anywhere. No conditions. Logan repeats it plenty, Virgil shows it to you quietly, but only now-

Now you believe them. You feel looked after. Cared for. If you’re being bold, you could even say loved.

You feel secure.

“Thank you,” for being there, staying there, helping you, everything. You can’t thank them enough for everything.

Virgil shrugs.

“You’re worth it.”

#sanders sides #ts #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #analogince #analogical #logince #prinxiety #panic attacks tw #cursing tw #logan #roman #virgil #patton #implied moceit #my writing

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