#Sometimes you just wanna see feral logan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizthewriter · 9 months

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love is so embarrassing / ted logan

PAIRING ted logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY you continually give your all to a jock who could care less - ted makes you realize there's mucb better options out there. namely, him.

TAGS ted logan x fem!reader, high school, prom, og!boyfriend is a complete dick, best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, loser!ted, kissing, cursing, canon-typical lingo, most excellent

QUOTE "just watch as i crucify myself, / for some weird second string, / loser who's not worth mentioning, / my god, love's embarrassing as hell," - love is embarrassing by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 1.7K

WRITTEN 12.30.2023

ted -

you stormed into ted's bedroom, slamming the door behind you. ted watched from his bed with an expression of mostly shock, mingled with a slight bit of awe. you flopped onto his bed, buried your face into his pillow, and let out a feral scream. he placed down the magazine he'd been flipping through and held a finger next to your side, weighing the pros and cons of poking you to elicit a reaction. before he had time to do so, you immediately sat up with an angry pout and offered him the most sympathetic look you could while so angry.

"sorry, it's just . . . i hate him. i hate him! he said we would be spending the whole night together, but yet again he's made plans with his 'friends' and he's 'so so sorry.' honestly, i'm getting sick of it!"

oh, you were angry about that boyfriend of yours. ted wasn't a fan at all - the way he treated you was most heinous. he didn't really seem to care about you - if anything, he treated you like a side piece. no, Ted didn't like him one bit.

"don't be sorry," ted said, flashing you one of his trademark grins. somehow, just with a smile, he was always able to make you feel better. "I hate him too! a dickweed like him doesn't deserve a babe- i mean, a girl - like you."

your lips spread into a thin line, which he supposed was an attempt at a smile. "thanks teddy," you responded softly, patting him on the thigh. you tried to think about something else, move the topic of conversation away from your good-for-nothing boyfriend. "so, whatcha doing?"

"me?" ted asked, a little suprised that you were interested. you had spent a lot less time with him and bill ever since you started dating that douchebag. sometimes, he thought you had forgotten about him completely - and that made him feel totally bogus. thus, his eyes sparkled in excitement and he began to talk very fast because when was the last time you two had some time to just chat? "i'm just looking at these totally awesome dudes, to get uh - uh -" he glanced upwards in an attempt to remember the word he wanted to use. "well, i'm writing music for wyld stallyns and stuff."

"oh, cool!" you exclaimed. "can I see?"

"no!" ted responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. he didn't want you to see the many failed attempts at writing a most bodacious love song for you. "they're still, er, works in progress, dudette!"

"oh, well, all right!" you paused, lost in thought, before you asked, "wanna go watch a movie?"

you -

you had felt the guilt creep in rather quickly once you realized how much you'd been procrastinating on hanging out with your best friends, bill and ted. you had been so hyperfixated on your boyfriend that you had completely forgotten about your weekly movie night and failed to meet up with bill to help him paint some posters for a wyld stallyns. you decided to apologize by treating them to a day at the mall, buying ice cream and movie tickets for all of you.

while you and bill chatted vehemently about perhaps the coolest sci-fi film you've ever seen, ted was a bit preoccupied watching your so-called boyfriend get a bit too cozy with cindy. cindy, who most considered to be the prettiest girl in your grade, was head cheerleader (though you had always been the prettiest, in ted's mind). you noticed that ted was being uncharacteristically quiet and followed his line of sight. immediately, your jubilant expression fell to something much more hardened.

"of course he's here. why wouldn't he be." he somehow always found a way to ruin your best days - and who the hell was that he was copying up with?

"hey, wow, look over there!" bill said all of a sudden, pointing to the lower floor of the mall, in the opposite direction. you didn't notice the look that bill gave ted and glanced to where he was pointing. there was nothing there.

"i don't see anything," you said with furrowed brows, completely distracted now and confused as to what exactly bill had spotted. ted had rushed to your side and looked down as well.

"what? i don't-" ted let out what sounded like a small whimper of pain (you didn't see bill step on his foot). "oh yeah! duh! the thing, you didn't see . . . the thing?"

"what thing?" you asked exasperatedly.

"come on!" bill exclaimed, running towards the escalator. ted barked out a laugh before quickly following him in pursuit.

"wait, guys!" you didn't realize until you jad gotten home - they were distracting you from your so-called boyfriend. you couldn't help but smile the rest of the day.

ted -

you and ted walked off the bus together, laughing your asses off as you made the slow walk to your houses. the two of you had lived next to each other for as long as you could remember. the bond between the two of you had remained strong ever since.

ted watched as you through your head back with a bark of laughter and he admired the way your grin split your face, the way your hair tickled the nape of your neck, how the sun twinkled in your beautiful eyes. he was snapped back to reality when you had straightened out your head, your entire back even, and stared in suprise at someone sitting on your front lawn. they held a boombox, romantic music blaring through the speakers. they held a sign, one that made ted sick to the very depths of his stomach. will you go to prom with me?

ted had been planning on asking you that very same question later today. but it was too late - you were running up to that douchebag, your arms thrown around his neck as you shouted "yes!" rather a bit loudly. that sound is punctuated in his ears for the rest of the day.

later, when you were both sitting in his room doing homework (well, you were doing homework - he was sulking while pretending to write about history stuff) he placed down his pencil. this drew your attention.

"what do you see in him?" ted asked.

"what?" you responded with furrowed brows, obviously not yet accustomed to the sudden change in conversation.

"what do you see in him? your boyfriend? he's not - not smart or anything. not that funny. not even that good at football."

you leaned back and closed your math textbook. "what's that supposed to mean?" he felt uncomfortable now, at your offended tone, and wondered whether he should have spoke up at all.

"he just doesn't treat you right," ted grumbled. "you deserve to be treated most excellently - and he certainly does not treat you as such. you saw him with that girl at the mall."

you nodded slowly before gathering all your books together in a rush, fury painted all over your face.

"where are you going?" ted asked innocently.

"away from you," you responded harshly. "you know what i think, ted, I think you're jealous that i have a date for prom and you don't. don't pick on my boyfriend because your miserable."

"what, no, that's -" you held a hand to his face as you left his room, slamming the door behind you. "non-non-heinous, man."

you -

you smiled for the picture your parents took with you, your boyfriend, and bill and ted (the boys were glaring daggers at each other, not to your awareness). as you were ushered out the door, you were met by the sight of a limo out front.

you felt someone snake a finger under the strap of your dress, pulling it back and snapping it against your skin. you let out a yelp, slapping your boyfriend in the arm, half-serious. "ow!"

"well show a little more skin next time, missy, i thought we were having a fun time," he responded with another cruel chuckle. you wrapped your arma ariund your shoulders with discomfort, pulling the straps of your dress further upwards. yoy glanced towards ted, his teeth clenched and fists crumpled. maybe he was right. maybe he really was a douchebag. it was time you didn't let him treat you like shit.

"well if that's all you cared about tonight, getting your dick wet, then i suggest you find another easily-manipulated girl to be your prom bitch," you barked back sharply. as soon as you realized the words that had left your mouth, you slapped a hand over your mouth. bill arched a brow at ted in suprise, who let out a snicker.

"you find that funny, logan?" your (ex-)boyfriend said to ted.

"yeah, i do," ted responded, blowing out his chest, trying to seem tough. only a second later there was a sickening crunch, a blow dealt to his jaw. he fell down to the ground, his face turned away from you. you rushed over to ted, asking if he was okay. you only heard your ex scoff and walk back towards the limo.

"ted, let me see your face," you said gently. he turned his face towards you and you let out a gasp. his jaw was all bruised up. "oh god! i'm so sorry!"

"cool, dude! battle scar!" bill exclaimed excitedly, letting out a chuckle. ted pushed himself to be sitting upright, a grin spreading like an infection across his face.

"i totally pissed him off, didn't i?" ted asked, obviously very smug with himself despite having just been punched square in the face. "I told ya he was bogus."

"i should have listened to you earlier," you responded sheepishly, wincing at the memory of raising your voice at ted. "I wish i could make it up to you."

"well, there is a way . . ." ted trailed off, looking towards bill. he responded to ted with an ostentatious thumbs up, and ted returned to your gaze with another lazy grin. "go to prom with me?"

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x you #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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nthflower · 1 year

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same ones you asked me—2, 12, 14 & 18! :3> (combo :3 and :D)

Okayyyy let's go

2- Something I like about Krakoa era

Aesthetics. I love gates and flowers and other things I think they are sooo nice. Also some mutants having more development and being more focused.

Also arakko everything arakko. And I like that it's different. Sometimes bad different but it's different.

12- Let's retiree ....

..... Definitely Logan. But also not retiring but I wanna see Glob Herman less. He is so overused for me.

14- Fight!

Kwannon and Betsy. For reasons

18- first words of my first name and my surname fighting

Okay I also don't wanna use my real name here so I just use first and last words of my user name n and f.

With human names hmmm Neena Thurman and Fabian Cortez. I have no idea why this two they are just first one to came my mind. Domino is beating him of course. Without even using bullets.

With mutant names Namor and Feral. Again first two ones that I remembered with this letters. Realistically Namor is winning but it's an infinity issue with feral as main character and with some shenanigans she someway beat him. Yaaay 👍🙌🎉

#and done #:P

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squidsandthings · 2 years

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Orange eyed Logan theories go!

The orange side is sleep and logan's got orange eyes cause he hasn't slept since learning new things about himself. This also explains why he's angy since he is tired and also cranky.

#that's a joke #tbh im torn between a few theories #it changes depending on how much i want logan to suffer (affectionate)#I think the orange side is most likely a separate side #since in SvS redux there was a missing player box #but logan being the orange side is very cool and I love some of the fanfics of it #Sometimes you just wanna see feral logan #My favorite theory is orange splits from logan #separate side is most likely tho #this is assuming we ever get another sander sides video #/hj

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Good Omens but Make It Moceit (unfinished)

I said I would do it and I tried very, very hard but it's not looking like I'm going to be able to finish because ✨mental health reasons✨

Here's what I have so far (about 8k words)

EDEN

It is a little-known theological fact that the invention of the hypothetical coincided nearly perfectly with the invention of the thunderstorm, the latter being a rather effable invention of God, all things considered, and the former springing forth from the troubled mind of Phaedaël, the angel of the Eastern gate. The first drops of rain pattered to the ground and he curved one wing upward to protect his head. Addressing his companion, he said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I should be talking to you."

"Oh, and what a shame," cooed the serpent, who hadn't yet chosen a name, "and here I was so hoping you'd wring the details out of me."

"Oh," said the angel, considering this. He shifted uncomfortably, and made a face like he'd just been forced to swallow something bitter. "Well… What did you say to her?"

"Don't patronize me," said the serpent. He paused. "I don't suppose you could enlighten me, angel, on what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil?"

"They broke the rules," said the angel firmly.

"I don't suppose it matters that the rule was arbitrary?" The angel drew in a breath to reply, but the serpent cut him off, looking him up and down suddenly as though seeing him for the first time. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Lose something?"

"No!" said the angel, far too quickly.

"Oh, come on. Lying doesn't become an angel."

"It's not a lie!" the angel insisted.

"Well, then. Please do tell me what happened to that flaming sword of yours."

The rain began to fall in earnest. A thunderclap sounded overhead. The angel said, "What if you had an opportunity to help someone--"

"What if?" repeated the serpent incredulously.

"What if," persisted the angel, "someone could benefit from something you were supposed to have, but weren't really using?"

The serpent began to laugh. "Don't tell me you gave it--" he gestured into the distance-- "to them?" A few more hysterical cackles escaped his chest, but he swallowed the rest down at the anguished look on the angel's face. "Oh, relax. If you did it, it can't have been bad, can it? Angels don't do bad."

"And demons don't do good?" the angel looked at the serpent with uncertainty.

"Oh, yes," purred the serpent, "we're wicked to the core."

The angel went silent, considering this.

The thunder roared, the rain came down harder, the serpent remained, and the angel very gently lifted his other wing to keep his companion dry.

Who, after all, prayed for the Devil?

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

God (God)

Logan (Patton's overseer)

Satan (A Fallen Angel; The Fallen Angel, one might say)

Remus (Janus' overseer)

Janus (An angel who did not so much fall as back away muttering "I'm really going to do it this time; no one try to stop me")

Roman (a lover)

Virgil (an Antichrist)

Dog (hellhound, hellraiser, and sleeping partner)

21 YEARS AGO

In the Valendale Regional Military Cemetery lurked a demon.

Well, he lurked as best as he was able, given that the ambiance was all off for lurking. He had fudged the timing a little, being unaccustomed to the nature of the passage of time on Earth, and had accidentally arrived just in time to witness a beautiful sunrise over Florida's eastern coast. Half the sky was a magnificent golden ocean with waves of orange and pink. The military cemetery had also been a mistake, though this one bothered him less. While he had been hoping for something a little more ancient and decrepit, he soon began to console himself by playing hopscotch on the clean, flat grave markers, delighting in the muddy bootprints he left behind him.

Besides, he liked the way 'military cemetery' rolled off the tongue.

When he inevitably got bored of desecrating graves, he threw himself down in the grass and began to look for worms and bugs with which he might decorate his uniform.

This was Remus, a Duke of Hell.

He found a worm and began to speak to it, watching it writhe around in his palm. "I'm so bored."

He spent a good few seconds coming up with a voice to use to represent the worm, then asked himself in a high-pitched squeak, "Why's that, your

Grace?"

Remus cupped the worm in his hands and rolled over, nearly kicking the basket he'd brought with him. This bothered him less than it rightfully should have, considering what was inside. He only gave a blithe "Oops!" and returned his attention to the worm. "That little subordinate of mine is making me wait!"

The worm said, "You should punish him!"

"Good idea!" Remus exclaimed, stroking the worm with his fingertip. "What do you think, should I spank him? Make him kiss my boots? Or--" He cut himself off, having just caught sight of flashing red and blue lights in the near distance. Sirens had been echoing on and off throughout the night, but they were very near now. "There's my bitch!" he said with undisguised affection. He put the worm in his pocket and stood up.

The Interstate Highway System was ostensibly developed under the command of United States President Dwight D Eisenhower in order to facilitate the movement of personal use vehicles, public transportation vehicles, and self-propelled field artillery across the country. This project, as anyone who has ever attempted to traverse the Interstate Highway System can tell you, was a catastrophic failure. The criss-crossing network of freeways, highways, turnpikes, and byways is frequently backed up with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

What most hapless travelers of the Interstate Highway System do not know is that the cloverleaf interchange, one of the most commonly-used interchanges in city planning, is also the exact same shape as the sigil det in the written language of the Church of the Black Clock. Written correctly, it means "black fire upon my enemies, devour their souls!" (Note: Written incorrectly, it reads "kneel, gay men.") Every day, commuters slow traffic via their own ill-wishes on fellow drivers, granted life by the sigil. (It is a known fact that every driver on the freeway considers every other driver on the freeway an enemy).

It was one of Janus' most diabolical achievements. He was quite proud of himself, not only in the end result but in his methods. While a lesser demon might have had to go to the trouble of hands-on work: hacking computers, making bribes, and, Satan-forbid, possibly even sneaking out at night to move marker pegs by hand, all Janus had had to do was talk. He was quite good at getting people to do his bidding once he got his foot in the door.

Something Janus had inexplicably failed to account for was the fact that he, too, would occasionally need to use the freeway system. Such was the curse of Janus' great evil deeds: more often than not, they slalomed between his legs like a wily terrier and bit him squarely on the ass.

The irony snuck up on him sometimes.

Janus had dark hair and high cheekbones. His eyes and tongue were really only unusual if you looked at them twice, and he had a tendency to hiss when he forgot himself. He looked far too young, far too handsome, and far too svelte for the 1957 Cadillac Deville he was driving, bearing no resemblance at all to the sort of wealthy, elderly man who deals in classic cars.

He checked his watch, which also seemed too old for him, and glanced at the rearview mirror. Normally he enjoyed the minor thrill of having cops on his tail, but his exit was coming up and he did have someplace to be.

What he did next lacked imagination, but it got the job done: With one complicated hand gesture, he turned both officers into pigs and gently glided their cars to the shoulder. Then he turned on his blinker and took his exit.

Remus watched the police lights disappear with impassivity, bouncing on his toes. When Janus finally emerged through the wrought iron gates, having bent reality to get past them, he raised his arms and shouted, "Hail Satan!"

Janus acknowledged this with two lifted fingers. "So sorry I'm late," he said, bringing his hand smoothly upward to tip his hat, "it's just that I don't value your time in comparison to mine." The sarcastic inflection was so light the words could very well be sincere. But of course Janus always meant every word of what he'd said. (Now that's

sarcastic inflection)!

Remus gave a feral grin. Janus was his favorite subordinate. "Wanna see my worm?"

Millennia of acquaintanceship had freed Janus from the notion that he needed to be polite to Remus. The demon was as twisted as they came and nearly immune to flattery. "As much as I'd love to, shouldn't we get this over with?"

"Yeah, yeah." Remus looked around. "Hm, now where did I put the basket?"

The basket was currently sitting atop the headstone for a General T. Pratchett. Janus spied it first and indicated it to Remus with a flicker of his yellow irises, careful not to let a trace of his hesitancy show on his face. He didn't even let himself hesitate when Remus, who had hopscotched over to the basket and then back over to Janus, thrust it out to him.

"So this is really it," Janus murmured, wrapping both gloved hands around the handle of the basket. Then he began to work. "What a high honor."

"So they say," Remus said.

"Remus, be honest with me." Brief pause, just enough for Remus to wonder at the weight in Janus' voice. "Did you pull some strings to ensure I was the one who got this task? Do I owe you a favor?"

"Are you about to thank me?" Remus asked, tilting his head. Addressing the worm in his breast pocket, he said, "Listen up, this should be good."

"So you did?"

"Of course not."

Here it was. After a few seconds of rallying, his ace: "So why me?"

"You've been in the field the longest." Remus' grin widened to an impossible degree and he grabbed Janus by the lapels of his immaculate suit jacket, coming nose to nose. "Some of us think you're getting soft."

Janus smiled back, the unblinking predator's grin of a snake about to strike, and hefted the basket. "We'll see about that." And he extricated his lapels from Remus' grasp and turned to leave.

"You didn't say hi to my worm!" Remus called after him. Janus did not reply. Remus fished the worm out of his pocket. "How rude."

"The nerve of some demons," agreed the worm.

The Cadillac's speedometer hit 110. Janus fumbled for the volume knob with a shaking hand. The radio was permanently set to 98.5 The Jukebox, which only ever seemed to play Queen.

"Shit," Janus muttered as majestic panned harmonies began to emanate from his speakers. "Shit-shit-shit. Why now? Why me?"

BECAUSE, came the harmonic vocals, YOU'VE EARNED IT.

Janus bit down on his tongue to keep from swearing. Communication via electronics had been another one of his ideas, hoping he'd be issued a BlackBerry or a Nokia. But no. Instead, upper management just cut into whatever he was listening to at the time and twisted it. "Thank you very much, my lord," he said, working very very hard to instill his voice with the proper amount of unctuous ooze.

THIS IS IMPORTANT, JANUS.

"Yes, my lord."

THIS IS THE BIG ONE.

"Yes, my lord."

AND YOU UNDERSTAND, JANUS, THAT IF THIS GOES WRONG, EVERYONE INVOLVED WILL BE PUNISHED. EVEN YOU. ESPECIALLY YOU.

"I understand."

GOOD. YOUR INSTRUCTIONS.

And suddenly, he just knew. A new Queen song began to play on 98.5 The Jukebox, and Janus hissed and slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. "What was the point of all that, then?" he demanded of Freddie Mercury.

Freddie Mercury replied, "Don't stop me now! 'Cause I'm havin' a good time!"

Janus rolled his eyes and changed lanes without signaling. He had been instructed to head straight to a hospital on the edge of town. It was technically in an unincorporated community called Misty, but for all intents and purposes, Misty was Valendale. If he kept up this pace (the needle of the speedometer now closer to 130), he could be there in five minutes. Joy.

It had all been going so well, too. He'd really hit his stride in the 21st century, and now here was Hell pulling the rug out from under his shiny Armani brogues. Armageddon. What a nightmare.

In the Publix baking aisle, two angels stood side by side. One of them was Phaedaël, who had lately adopted the name 'Patton,' feeling it suited his corporation.

The other had been christened 'Loirea' once upon a time. As Heaven began to

modernize, Loirea had been the first among the angels to adapt to the changes being made. He had even taken on the name 'Logan' as a show of good faith.

Both of the angels were human-shaped, having discovered early on that it's much easier to get things done when you have limbs as opposed to flaming wheels of eyes and animal heads poking out at odd angles.

Both wore glasses. Patton's glasses were round, wire-rimmed things, of the sort usually found on kindly old librarians and stern but fair headmasters of all-boy's boarding schools. Logan's glasses were made of shiny black plastic and looked like they could draw blood if strategically applied to a sufficiently tender area.

Patton was, at the moment, holding a bag a semolina flour under one arm and awkwardly attempting to explain himself. "It's called 'cooking.' It's actually really clever, you take ingredients and combine them--"

"Why?" Logan interrupted

"Oh, uh, well," Patton hesitated, shamefaced, "it makes food."

"Eating," Logan said in such a forceful tone of dismissal that three boxes of brownie mix turned to ash behind him. "I don't understand why you waste your time."

"It helps me blend in," Patton said with a sheepish smile. Everything from his shoes to his shirt was a shade of white or blue; he'd never been comfortable dealing in gray areas.

"I see." Logan adjusted his tie. "Well, I'll let you get back to it in a moment. I just came to pass on a message: Our intel has given us reason to believe that Armageddon is underway."

"Oh," said Patton vaguely, staring at a bag of something labeled 'pasta flour.' "Oh!"

"We'd like for you to keep an eye on Janus. He's a demon; he's on a similar mission to yours."

"I, uh," Patton swallowed hard, staring right through the pasta flour, "I've heard of him."

"Good." Logan put his hand on Patton's shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "Patton."

"Y-yes?"

"When I say 'keep an eye on' I mean I want you to watch him. It's a figure of speech."

Patton nodded, forcing his mouth to curve into a pale imitation of a smile. Logan nodded back and vanished.

"Well," Patton said to the pasta flour, "fiddlesticks."

Brother Emile Analogical had been raised a Satanist. There is no such thing as an orthodox Satanist, but if there was, that would be the kind of Satanism that Brother Emile's parents had practiced. He had graduated with unspectacular grades, joined the Paralleling Order of Saint Botild, and promptly moved from Nebraska to Florida: more specifically, to the unincorporated community of Misty in the greater Valendale area. The climate had taken some getting used to, not to mention the long, black robes he had to wear, but he had survived the transition and found himself a good fit for the Paralleling Order.

Note: Saint Botild Comminalitus of Malmö was reputed to have been martyred in the middle of the fifth century, for reasons unclear. It is said that the Lord granted him the power to draw parallels and connections between topics; his last words are reported to have been "This reminds me of that one story about Loptr, when he--" Then his assailants lit the pyre.

At the moment, Brother Emile was thinking about the tall, dark figure stalking down the hallways at him holding a basket, likening him to a Scooby-Doo villain, the way the shadows seemed to stick to him.

"Jinkies!" said Brother Emile once the figure was in earshot.

Janus raised an eyebrow at him over the tops of his sunglasses. "Hello."

Unphased by the cold greeting, Brother Emile pointed to the basket. "Is that the fairly odd baby?" he asked in a high-pitched coo that indicated he already suspected the answer.

"No," said Janus, rolling his eyes. "It's a basket of kittens I saved from drowning. Aren't you wondering why I'm all wet?"

"You're," Brother Emile started, and Janus braced himself, fearing the last frayed thread of his patience might snap if the sentence ended with the word 'dry,' "a Mister Grumpy Gills, aren't you?'

Janus thrust the basket at Brother Emile and did not dignify him with any answer more notable than a slight thinning of

his lips.

Brother Emile drew back the blankets and began to babble at the sleeping Antichrist. Janus took the opportunity to flee.

"Look at you," Brother Emile said happily. "Sleeping in a pic-a-nic basket, huh, Boo-boo?"

After a few more moments of cooing, babytalk, and Boomerang references, he remembered himself and found a wheeled bassinet for the baby Antichrist.

There is a game, common among carnies and street magicians in which a ball is hidden under cups and shuffled around. Unbeknownst to himself, the two sets of new parents, and all the friars at St Botild's, Brother Emile Analogical was about to become a mark.

And Hell had had nothing to do with it.

same rate, and good and evil had a knack for balancing themselves out in the grand scheme of things. And this left Janus and Patton free to pursue other passions, which somehow resulted in the two of them spending a great deal of time in each other's company.

silence. "It's not even that I disagree with you," he said apologetically. "It's just, well, you know, I'm not allowed to disobey."

his hazelnut hot chocolate. "What's a shame?"

Janus nodded. "Roman Dowling."

Roman was about to turn 21, and lived his life according to the belief that everyone over the age of 30 was, in some degree, an 'elder').

wanna do that."

"Roman!"

people; every social interaction, no matter how minor, always kept his body as tense as wire.

#sanders sides #moceit #this is a pastiche meaning it's not my usual writing style #basically i deliberately wrote in the style of pratchett/gaiman #just in case you were wondering lmao #anyway you can bug me about finishing it if the urge strikes you; i'm not one of those people who gets mad about stuff like that #it certainly won't hurt #i really do want to finish but at the moment im not really in a place where i feel like i can make art #spicypost #spicywrites #i guess i'll throw in some character tags #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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let-patton-say-fuck · 4 years

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Hello and welcome

This post is going to be long and detailed, but here’s the gist:

I want to create a blog that will serve as a collection of Patton content in which he's portrayed as the extremely interesting character that he is. This includes angst, character studies, theories, discussions of gray morality, etc, etc. Also, I personally heavily identify with Patton, and whenever I see content of him being absolutely feral? Incredibly cathartic. I just think it’s neat. So, this is a blog for Patton content that presents him as more than the “innocent soft little puffball” he tends to be percieved as in the fandom. And, to be honest, more than anything I just want to inspire as many people as possible to join me in my #LetPattonSayFuck agenda. Let him do it. He deserves it.

None (or almost none) of the content on this blog is going to be mine. If you have content you want me to put on here, you can:

Tag me in it

Submit a post

Send me an ask

DM it to me

I will reblog the things people send me and try my best to organise them (more on that after the cut). You can send art, fanfiction, edits, rants, headcanons, memes, just related thoughts that come to your head, basically anything you want.

I will also sometimes reblog things to this blog just because I feel like they fit and I want to. If I reblogged something you created to this blog and you don't want that, please let me know, and I will delete it. Essentially, this is just a place for me to hoard (and navigate) any and all content about my favourite types of Patton characterisation. And you can join, if you want!!

And now onto the details:

About The Different Kinds Of Patton:

Different sides (ha) of Patton might be explored in the posts of this blog, so I think they will require some sort of classification. You can block or search certain tags based on your preferences.

The tags I will be using:

#let patton say fuck - any post where Patton swears (not necessarily “fuck”)

#feral patton - feral Patton. That’s it that’s the tag. Let my boy go feral. Whatever level of feral. From dying your hair at 4am to murder. Give me feral Patton

#angry patton

#patton angst - h u r t h i m (then help him pls. Not a requirement, just a personal request. Unhappy endings accepted but not without tears). This one will probably have a lot of subcategories

#flirty patton - I will be using this tag for any flirtatious actions from Patton, especially those that wouldn’t usually be seen as “typical” for him.

#suggestive patton - taking the previous tag a step further, this one is for any innuendos, sexual jokes/hints from Patton, whether in a flirty context or just for humour reasons.

#smart patton - any kinds of intelligence. Emotional intelligence, academic intelligence, strategic intelligence, musical intelligence, etc. Bring it on. If anyone wants me to make separate tags for different types of intelligence, please let me know exactly how you want me to do that, and I will, as soon as I can.

#BAMF patton - let him fuck shit up a little. As a treat

#mischief patton - Patton doing pranks, teasing someone, making fun of someone light-heartedly, messing with people. Sarcastic Patton. All that adorable devious shit. Gimme

#smug patton - smug bastard man,,,,,, sarcastic bastard man,,,,,,,,,, teasing bastard man,,,,,, (this one and the mischief one will probably overlap yeah)

#patton and morality - gray morality Patton. Being confused abt moral concepts because morality is hard, man. Patton being wrong, but learning. Patton making mistakes,,,,, I love him

#nsfw patton - I accept NSFW content, it will always be tagged. These posts will also be tagged with "#nsfw" and "#nsfs" (Not Safe For Sanders). This tag is for explicitly sexual things only. Sexual humour/innuendos/hints will all be in the "suggestive" tag. You can filter out one or both, if you want.

Once again, if anyone wants me to make a separate tag, I will.

About The Different Kinds Of Content:

As I’ve mentioned before, absolutely any form of content is accepted. Some tags that will help in looking for specific things:

#pat art - Some art,,, of the Pat,,,,,

#pat fanfic - More on ships later

#pat thoughts - any kinds of thoughts/rants. If you wanna share your ideas or just talk about Patton, this is probably how it will be tagged. Lemme know if you want me to change anything

#pat analysis

#pat theories

#pat hcs - any headcanons!! Ship headcanons!! Random headcanons!!! Vent “This is about Patton but I Am Patton” headcanons haha definitely know nothing about those!!! All headcanons are welcome

#pat memes - memes, shitposts, funny thoughts, incorrect quotes. Anything like that

#pat edits - Video, photo, audio, GIF. Once again, if anyone wants separate tags, I will add them.

Any other types of content will be given their own tags in the future, if they will be needed.

The tag for any asks is just "#asks". Anything related to this blog will be tagged "#blog stuff".

About Ships:

All ships will be given their own tags. More ships (poly ships, ships without Patton in them) will be added later as we go. For now here are the tags I will be using for Patton ships (tell me if anything needs to be changed):

#moceit

#logicality

#moxiety

#intruality

#royality

All characters will be tagged as “#ts *character name*”:

#ts logan

#ts janus

#ts roman

#ts virgil

#ts remus

If you don’t want to see certain characters or ships, please just filter the tags.

About Trigger Warnings:

If you ever need me to tag (or change) anything for any reason, please feel free to tell me, and I will do so as fast as I can and as thoroughly as I can.

Trigger warning tags are added to this post as content is being posted. Before posting anything, I will review it for potential triggers and update this post if needed. If anyone wants to add a tag for anything in advance - let me know, and I will do it.

So, let's start:

#pat discourse - any kind of argument against the way Patton is treated by the general fandom. While I think most people here would agree with those opinions, sometimes just the notion of an argument is distressing.

#tw cursing - I mean just in case

#tw murder mention - for references to murder with no details or visuals

#tw murder - discussion of murder with some details and/or visuals

#tw repression

#tw self-hatred

#tw anxiety attack

#tw threats

#tw alcohol

And finally!!!! This is a No Unsympathetic Patton Allowed zone. I guess it depends on how you would define "unsympathetic", but no content of Patton being abusive and/or anything similar to that will be posted, and please, please do not send it in. Please don't send Patton hate either, I won't post it, but it will hurt me quite a lot, please don't do that. If you don't like Patton, just go to another blog.

#tw arguing

#tw self-destructive behaviour

I'm sorry in advance if I ever forget to tag anything, please tell me right away so I can fix it! I don't really know how to run a blog, so I'm sorry if anything is wrong. I'm willing to try my best to keep this as organised as possible, since it's For A Good Cause. Thank you so much for visiting this blog, and I hope you enjoy it!!

#sanders sides #patton sanders #ts patton #let patton say fuck #tw cursing #long post #the length of this post (before the cut) is distressing me so ill look into what i can do abt that

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helpinghanikan · 4 years

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Logan Howlette A-Z

Logan Howlette (the Wolverine) A-Z NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s not an overly sensual or ‘romantic’ person after the deed, or really ever. Instead he just goes about the room like any other time. Going into the bathroom and getting a cloth, wiping down anything left over on either of your bodies.

The conversation that happens after is nothing different then other times. Anything new happening? How are the kids doing? Do you wanna get something to eat? All things that can be talked about over dinner, can also be talked about while naked.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s an ass man, there’s no other way to say it.

It’s like the pen you fiddle with without thinking. His hand just naturally goes to your butt when you get close enough. Sliding into your back pocket or cupping under it without even thinking during the conversation.

Taking your hand when he’s already seated in the room. Pulling you into his lap without taking a second thought, or even pausing in the conversation.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Logan has reached that magical age where nothing that comes out of a human really bothers him anymore. War in trenches and fields have made him numb to vomit and shit. Blood just came with the territory of his life. And cum? There was nothing special about it.

It was just another thing to wipe off with a warm towel. Part of the clean-up that happens during conversation. Like another breed of pillow talk. Wipe-down talk.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s had fantasies, but only fantasies, of doing it on a motorcycle. Like in bad music videos he absolutely didn’t watch over one of the kid’s shoulders.

The only reason he hasn’t told you was because you might actually want to do it. And, no matter how romanticized bikes are shown in movies and everything, balancing is a bitch sometimes. Especially with a woman on his lap or while over top that same woman.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Logan is an old, old bastard. From women to sometimes men he’s experienced almost everything. There is nothing you can do, suggest or be ashamed of that he hasn’t seen the worst version of.

F = Favorite Position

Logan has always given off this vibe of being feral. That’s he’s walked the line between wild and city for so long that he just doesn’t care what kinda vibe he gives off anymore.

This could be why he likes to take you from behind. Sometimes your shirt wouldn’t even be off when the strong, but with gentle pressure, pushing on the back of your neck. Pressing your torso down into the bed, the floor or the grass. The fabric of a bra or shirt protecting your breasts from the rubbing against the surface.

Of course he’s always willing to change it up if the situation calls for it. But there is nothing prettier in this world then watching you like this. When your legs starts to quiver and hands are searching for anything to hang onto, there’s no mercy for you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He only really jokes around in his dry humor sort of way. When you ask if the door is locked, worried between kisses, he’ll go: “if they come in, we’ll see if they wanna join.”

“Wait, really?”

“Hell no.” He’ll say, moving things along to keep you from making an actual joke out of it.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Logan has stopped caring about body grooming before you were born. After finding his preferred style of beard, hair and carpet of chest hair there’s been no point in trying out anything else.

The first few times together your hand would slide through his chest hair. He never asked whether you liked it or not. He wasn’t some teenager who would examine his jaw for any new bits of facial hair. But he watched as you toyed with his hair, trying to decipher whether or not you approved of it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Romance and sex are almost two entirely different areas to Logan. Being dragged through a hike in the woods to a beautiful view, camping and then kissing under the stars are one thing. Sliding into the same sleeping bag because it’s just “super cold” and hands leading to other places was a whole other thing.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Masturbating is the equivalent of a cooking show to Logan. It’s something to entertain you while the stuff you actually wants to do isn’t available.

Sure, he’d rather having you going up and down instead of himself, but his hand is a decent enough replacement. At least until you get back from…whatever.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Logan is one of the few people on earth with next to zero prejudices. After years fighting, living and just existing with all kinds of people there’s too much difference to make any stereotypes. That being said, almost every woman he’s met has been a strong woman. As tough and take no shit as any man he’s met.

Feminine things; pink lipstick and panties with garter belts. Dresses that twirl and high heels. These were things that were for a special occasion. When everything and everyone is safe.

That’s why he was quiet when he entered your shared room. Closing the door behind him while you showed off the amazing prize on sale. Light pink garter belt attached to white stockings.

“It was my size and more than half off, isn’t it the greatest?” You asked, sticking white foot out towards Logan.

He gently held your ankle. Thumb rubbing over the soft fabric. “Yeah, greatest.” He says, trying to remember if he closed the door.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers a more secluded places. Not specifically your room but just away from people. Really it’s any room that happens to have a lock on it will be fine.

All that matters is the sex itself, not the location. So long as there’s no kids around, or anything poking everywhere that’s not supposed to be poked. This entirely based on one experienced in a supply closet chosen in the heat of the moment.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The only time motivation really hits him is in the morning. When he presses against you, either on purpose or not, and the only thing between were the blankets and PJs. By the time he’s fully awake your already all over him, waking to the lovely sight of breasts moving freely under a sleeping shirt.

The rest of the time it’s all up to you, Baby. Give him a few seconds, a few kisses and touches, and he’s ready to go.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pain play, on himself or you, absolutely not.

Memories of scream from horror and pain has made worse scars then any knife could ever make. He has yet to go deep into why he won’t do anything near that area. Instead just giving a sold “No”, in a tone of voice that stops any other mention of it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give rather than to get. No offense to your skills but it takes direction and time to teach his partners what he exactly likes and how to do so. By the time you get a hang of it he’s had finished, not the best ever but it’s still an orgasm.

It’s not that he’s an expert of going down on women. The first time he just went at it without thinking. Only slowing down to listen when you tried to suffocate him with your thighs. Although, that wouldn’t be a terrible way to go.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s starts quickly before slowing down when your together. Most of your clothing has some sort of stretch or small tear in them from his too fast pace. Usually the clothing had to removed just enough to get to the good stuff. Other times he wouldn’t slow until there was nothing between either of you.

He go slowly after that. Putting more power behind the thrusts and touching, making you come from skill rather then constant friction over and over until the end.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

The thing about Logan is that he really doesn’t have a definition for quickie. It’s to make both of you reach the end as quick as possible, right? That’s what you do with regular sex, so what’s the difference?

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s game to get a little kinky, really just boiling down to difference positions and maybe some tying up. But serious danger like intense bondage or choking or anything like that is a no go.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His stamina is like his size, something that he doesn’t really pay attention to. Only really noticing when you had mentioned it. After finishing twice you were weak and sweaty and the only thing making slapping noises was Logan continuing to go on.

When you mentioned it he had to take a second to think. Trying to understand whether or not you were saying this to ask him to take it easier or if it was a compliment. Until you said it again, this time laughing and mentioning that it was better than others before him he was still unsure.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Really the only toy he’s willing to ‘play’ with was something to tie up with. Either you or himself. The only constant was aa spreader bar that you had showed him with a silly grin and a closing door. (That grin on you was quickly gone after Logan realized how much he really liked it).

Everything else was just not something that could get him in a mood or keep it there.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing and toying around just wasn’t Logan. Be it a lack of patience or that it just wasn’t fun for him, he never really teased you. Only accidently keeping you over the edge because, like a lot of times, he wasn’t listening when you were giving him directions.

It’s like the car all over again.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

His noises come from his throat; groans and moans that he tries to suppress with a closed mouth. Only coming out louder when you make that then whole point of the sex. Keeping him down and moving over him, kissing around his jaw and tugging at his chest.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He’s had anal before, with both genders, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But just outright saying “Hey Babe, can I stick it in your ass?” isn’t even mildly a romantic way to ask. And he wasn’t the kind of guy to play the “wrong hole” game with you.

This left him with one choice. To wait for you to bring it up instead of trying himself. But, if you’re just as unsure as he was it just wasn’t going to happen.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s definitely bigger than the average man. Only knowing this because it’s been mentioned by a few of his partners but wasn’t something he really cared about.

The only difference it made was the cute faces it forced on you. Watching you try to laugh the stretch off while settling onto him. Speaking in a different tone after taking it all in and groaning a little when he begins to groan.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It, like everything in his life, is just another feeling that controls his life. The same that when he has to take a piss will take him to a tree, or hunger takes him to the kitchen, horniness takes him to you.

It’s only when he finds you alone that he does anything to let you know. Pressing up against you while you’re bending over or at the sink. Leading you into a kiss and making it deeper when you think it’s just a simple one. Or he just outright asks if you’re up for a quick fuck.

The last one only works if you’re especially stressed or angry at something other than him. Otherwise you always laugh it off or tell him to try and be more romantic.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He only falls asleep when he successfully has you trapped against him. His eyes stay closed almost every time, as if he was already pretending to be asleep and was trying to trick you.

Unless your voice changes into that tone he’ll still be holding tight. No matter if you argued or tried to wiggle free he’ll be on his own time. His breathing will get slower, and heavier, until he’s snoring against you.

It’s only when he starts smacking his lips in his sleep that you have a chance to sneak out from him. Usually he’ll stir a bit but fall back when you settle his arm down. But sometimes he’ll snap awake, an impossible grip on you and look of panic in his eyes. Giving that same look back only results in an awkward apology. But being calm, telling him that it’ll be okay in a soft voice, and he’ll be back to sleep.

#reader insert #logan howlett #logan x reader #ABCs list #a-z headcannons #the wolverine #the wolverine x reader #xmen #marvel imagine

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apologieslogan · 4 years

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my opinons on the sides that nobody asked for:

Canon Logan: AMAZING. a little mean (which I love), and usually right even if the episode says he was wrong for the plot. I have not once disagreed with Logan about anything he has said. He should be listened to more bc in my opinion he is literally the most important side from an objective standpoint. i'm not gonna elaborate on that in this post but if y'all want me to I will

Fanon Logan: Hes great, a little more wild and feral than canon logan which is another thing I love. he has feelings but is allergic to them. can relate. sassy and done with everyone, epitome of "I don't have time for this shit, figure it out yourselves since you don't wanna listen." and I live for it bc I, too, am the logan of my friend group, believe it or not

Canon Patton: I like him. I don't love him, but I think his character plays a very important part in the development of literally every arc that we have seen bc of how much C!Thomas relies and leans on his morality for decision making. I disagree with Patton a lot but he's trying his best so he can live I guess

Fanon Patton: no. no no absolutely not. do not like him at all. specifically, I don't like how fanon patton (usually, not always) is depicted as someone who is always a victim and can never do any wrong. that's one of my least favorite characteristics in any character. it's not happening as much though, so i'm trying to warm up to him.

Canon Virgil: UGH I love him sm. sassy and a lil bit pessimistic. that's my type that's my type. perfect. I have only disagreed with him in the DWIT video and like,,,, pre acceptance. he passed the vibe check

Fanon Virgil: ehhhhhhhhhhh no??? kind of the same thing with patton, how he's always painted as a victim who can't do wrong. not my thing. not that I have a problem with people who do this!!! it's just not something I care for, I wanna be clear about that.

Canon Roman: i am very on the fence about him. do I like him???? I don't think so???? do i not like him???? I don't think so???? I feel like I know nothing about roman. a mystery. probably bc of the persona he puts on all the time. I think I COULD like roman if I knew more about him. so i'm gonna give him a pass.

Fanon Roman: oh yes honey there is flavor here. suave himbo??? we love to see it. he is doing his best and he is also very sweet but somehow stupid at the same time???? perfect. *chefs kiss* lemme go get me another fuckin plate bc it's so fuckin delicious

Canon Janus: BITCH!!!!! you already know I love him. finally some good fucking food. Him, Logan, and Remus are the only ones who be a lil,,,,,, spicy about the morals sometimes and I live for it. Janus is my favorite "fuck society, have a margarita and call in to work" character ever and I loveeeee him for it.

Fanon Janus: YALL DID HIM DIRTY IN THE BEGINNING I HATE IT HERE. y'all know what y'all did. y'all know. B U T, now????? yes I love him I love my lil creepy mysterious side character janus give me more

Canon Remus: YES BITCH YES BITC YES BITCH!!!!!!! he is DISGUSTING and BATSHIT and INSANE and I L O V E it. more remus characters in media, less of everything else. i'm also the remus of my friend group don't ask questions.

Fanon Remus: idk man I haven't seen too much of him. I have seen a fan art where he is drinking soap though so I love it. reminds me of the time I drank tea tree oil just bc I felt like it. we are one. 10/10

okay and here you have it!!!! a list of what I think of all the Sanders Sides characters even tho literally nobody asked!!! also I want to be clear that any critique I did of any character is MY opinion on them. i'm not attacking anyone if they think differently or anything like that, this is just one person and their feelings about them.

TL;DR: logan is great, patton is alright, virgil is good, roman is ????, janus is nice, and remus is stank nasty

#logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #the way that nobody is going to care lmfaooo #its okay because EYE care

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quinintheclouds · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Putting Others First: SvS Redux as they come to me

AN HOUR LONG?!?!?! Y E S THANK YOU

I am LOVING this opening art style. The way it shows all the things Thomas could say and shuts them each down, the silliness tying in perfectly to the video game setting, the way we could SO STRONGLY empathize with Thomas despite him not saying anything. Well done!

“Eff friends, Patton!” Patton and I made the exact same gasp and noise at the same time in reaction to that dsjfhljdhg

Lookit Thomas’ lil vest awww <3

ROMAN WITH THE PUNS I LOVE IT APPRECIATE HIM

rhymes

they’re rhyming is this gonna be

A SONG!!!

(Logan off somewhere watching all of this: “You guys are doing a RAP? Without ME? .....Unacceptable”)

Seriously poor Logan being left out BOTH TIMES despite clearly having excellent points on the matter

But I’m loving this Patton/Roman dynamic being explored in this way. They have a lotta similarities but the differences are really standing OUT so far and I like it! Also it looks like Roman isn’t gonna just shut up and do whatever Patton says out of fear that he’s a bad person/bad for Thomas this time. I’m glad they’re both getting a chance to talk cause they aren’t exactly taken seriously a lot of the time.

RETURN OF THE BLINDFOLD METAPHOR followed by Roman saying “in Patton’s defense...” so they like, KNOW what Deceit meant about the blindfold? Were they playing dumb? Or do they just suddenly get it now that it’s coming from Thomas?

Ok this Feral Cat Story of Roman’s is too specific for me to dismiss and now I’m convinced either Remus brought a shitton of cats home one day and they just flooded their house/rooms, or Patton brought home a bunch of cats out of love and didn’t realize he couldn’t take care of em...either way that’s an adorable anecdote

The car jump line that Patton took literally is just making me miss Logan even more :(

I’m glad they’re giving context to the relationship between Thomas and Mary Lee & Lee! A lot of fander questions and opinions circled back to “well it depends how close they were” so it was smart of them to fill us in.

“those baby-makin’ catholics”

6:45 Patton has clearly thought through a lot of possible outcomes to talking to Lee and Mary Lee before going to the wedding... he never brought them up, even when Roman did and then Deceit did. But he’s bringing up points no one had addressed, and I think that’s a great way to put more intensity to Patton’s apology to Thomas for lying back in SvS pt 1. He hid a lot more than he let on. Man, how much guilt is this poor man feeling right now? :(

“Talking about it could have been harmful” I’m very intrigued by the parallels between Patton wanting to keep things from Thomas’ friends to protect their feelings in this episode and SvS, and Deceit disguised as Patton in CLBG trying to get Thomas to... keep things from his friend to protect their feelings...

WOAH “But was it worth it? I don’t--” “No.” Thomas cutting Roman off with that much certainty DAMN Thomas REGRETS going to the wedding HARD and also is agreeing with Roman finally??

Patton: “sometimes you can make all the good choices, and still not get the good ending.” Thomas: “I’m not even sure there was a good ending to get.” Roman: “Mmmm, I’m pretty sure there was.” There is so much to unpack here oh my gosh.

WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT??? DAMN THOMAS CAME FOR PATTON WHAT ON EARTH??? Patton: “I think we can all agree that you are a good fellow.” Thomas: Can we? ALL? Agree on that?” Patton: *sputtering noises*

Poor Patton... I mean they’re right but gosh I feel for him. He wants so badly for Thomas to be a good person and he realizes now how strict and unyielding he’s been, and wants to not do that but doesn’t know how to be more lenient without sacrificing integrity cause that’s his JOB and he doesn’t know how to do it better aaaa this is such a mood

MUSIC IS THERE ANOTHER SONG COMING?

Return of the bagel. Except this time it’s Roman guessing/wanting the bagel and Patton being like “what? no?”

ok not a song but video game style is back!!

“ugh you’re such a dad” I love it

Patton just made more puns and Roman omg “Like, you’re SUCH a dad that like it’s too much to handle sometimes”

I am loving this whole scene jdfhjadshg Patton ily and I relate

Thomas and Roman teaching Patton how to come up with imaginary scenarios skjfklsjdfh

Sondheim wrecking Leslie Odom Jr is such a hilarious visual

Ok all three of them are peak dumbass and I’m so here for it (like they’re smart and all but they’re peak dumbass)

Daaaamn Patton is letting out so much this episode. Like he’s been holding back but wowie. R: “Just like how you didn’t HAVE to give him a hotdog” P: *sucks air through his teeth* “I feel like you kinda do though?” YES PLEASE let’s discuss the concept of obligation in morality again!!! Where’s Logan when you need him? Or Deceit even? (I feel like D’s gonna show up later but I wanna hear Logan’s thoughts this time too)

Patton: You can disagree! But... it’d kinda be wrong?

LOGAN POPUP! Ok fine if he isn’t in the ep at least he pops up in a lil dialogue box on screen. Also he popped up to support Patton... neat!

“It’s just me, Logan. I’ve taken this form because I didn’t want to be too...invasive.” POOR LOGAN NO YOU’RE NOT INVADING ANYTHING YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE HERE! Also Roman getting scared by the popup while Patton just waves happily like he always does upon seeing Logan aww

Okay I am getting serious DOPAMINE from Logan talking. Like, he’s spittin’ FACTS. Something about the way he talks is so interesting and soothing and makes me so excited to LEARN. Roman mockingly mouthing ‘behoove’ had me snort though XD

LOGAN AND I WERE IN UNISON HELL YEAH! Patton was all like ooh you’re sharing your lil factoids! And Logan and I at the same time corrected, “Facts,” and proceeded to state the definition of factoids (we worded it differently but yeah as usual Logan is on my wavelength)

Logan’s sprite getting so disappointed at Thomas’ interruption joke jgdkjghks he looks so DONE

OML I LOVE LOGAN’S DIALOGUE BOX TALKING TOO FAST FOR THEM TO READ THIS IS SO ACCURATE

Oof Thomas finally feeling like he GETS it and Patton being like yeah but not if you’re doing it bc you want to feel good tho... (also that’s the same argument Deceit made in SvS pt1??? I’m confused by Patton/Deceit’s functions lately and I’m very invested)

Oh ok Thomas just brought up that very point haha

“we all agreed the right thing to do was go to the wedding” um are u sure about that

“I was wrong” PATTON CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?? I know Logan has the reputation of not being able to admit when he’s wrong (which isn’t true -- he doesn’t like to but he has done so countless times...well not literally countless but you understand my meaning), but Patton rarely is in a situation where he has to, so this is jarring in a hopefully good way. Istg if this is Deceit disguised as Patton again I’ll be so disappointed... I feel like the writers wouldn’t do that though

Patton: says smth deceit said. Roman: and you...agree? Patton: Definitely! I mean uh maybe? (WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE PATTON’S HEAD RN SO MUCH TURMOIL)

Roman: “I’m not an expert in the... moral medium” Thomas: “Go ahead Roman, we wanna hear what you have to say.” Patton: *halfhearted gestures and noises for roman to go ahead* jashfjdh he’s trying so hard

AWWWW they’re validating Roman so much I love it

“whomstsoever” ok I take it back roman’s not valid

I adore Logan’s popup fun facts, and him giving definitions for Roman’s vocabulary reminds me how much the two of them love writing and poetry and language aaaa

Patton trying not to be harsh is somehow 10x harsher than he normally is

oh wow that got real.

I know I’ve said this but I love logan’s insertions... but I do wish he got to say them out loud like earlier :/ Pausing to read them is less fun than hearing him talk.

oh wow that got real part 2

I want. So badly. To jump into this video and debate Patton on the nature of morality and what “the right thing is.” Roman you’re not being dumb, you’re bringing up excellent points and you’re valid again.

Oh no Patton... empathy is not morality... please please address that there are people who can’t experience empathy and choose to be moral and good

THE TROLLEY PROBLEM HERE! WE! GO!

Logan’s popups bc he doesn’t want to “be too invasive” and making them optional to read hurts my heart :( He knows Patton, Roman, and Thomas aren’t reading any of it but he doesn’t want to be too much so he stays silent. Why?? Logan it’s okay! Why is this a thing now but not in the last 2 episodes? What happened to Logan :(

OOOOOOH Patton didn’t flip the switch :o Interesting! Daaaamn he’s arguing to let 5 people die rather than flip the switch so only one dies

LOGAN’S TEXTBOX WAS SO BIG AND FAST IT KNOCKED PATTON OVER I CANNOT BREATHE hang on I gotta read it

HE’S TALKING ABOUT DEONTOLOGY YES LOGAN THANK YOU FOR TELLING PATTON WHAT I PHYSICALLY CANNOT please tell me you’ll talk about utilitarianism and moral particularism next

Okay he used consequentialism but it’s close enough to utilitarianism that the outcome is the same. (Do you get it? Do you like my joke about how the outcome is most important? When we’re talking about-- oh you got it already? Good, moving on.)

DID ROMAN JUST FJCKING KILL LOGAN

“I’m okay, figment of your imagination, so.” Okay so CAN the Sides get hurt or can’t they?? Cause Patton clearly got bonked, roman got hit in the eye with paper and said ow, but logan got hit in the head with a throwing star and had his teeth ripped out and he was totally fine?

Thomas is being so HONEST with himself so early in the episode, wow this is refreshing and I’m hype

AW YAY Patton called textbox Logan in to help with philosophy yay :’)

Logan: “Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world’” first, Logan doing a voice impression of Nietzsche is GOLD, and second.... I wish they’d let him finish cause I was waiting for a “but” cause Logan siding with Nietzsche on this one feels... wrong? Like I could see Dee bringing it up or Logan using it in an argument only to continue with a contradicting philosophy but Logan equating empathy to pity... idk I thought he’d grown more than to think that :/ Actually I don’t think he ever saw it that way. It feels out of character but I’m guessing he had more to say to debunk that.

HOLY SHIT PATTON SKIPPED ALL THE REST OF LOGAN’S DIALOGUE AND YEETED HIM OFF THE SCREEN bruh he may have been right and he should’ve gotten to say it >:(

ROMAN ISTG DO NOT TRY AND MAKE THIS YOUR FAULT

I SAID DON’T

GODDAMMIT

sjfkdjgjsh okay aww Thomas good job, Patton too. Thank god they’re being nice to him

Patton is having a breakdown holy heckity about time

damn Patton is freaking HARSH

“I have a difference in opinion on this one, Patton” Thomas: *relieved sigh whisper* “ohhh thank you, Logan” YES APPRECIATE THE BOY YES YES I LOVE HIM why are they looking around like he isn’t making sense?

LOGAN YES! CALL HIM OUT! LET THOMAS VALUE HIMSELF AND PUT HIMSELF FIRST SOMETIMES! “Every point you’ve made in today’s discussion has contradicted that sentiment.” I love you but also you sound a lil like deceit... very lawyer-y and feels calculated like he’s been keeping notes for this purpose... I want deceit and logan to debate already damn it. Maybe it’s just that Logan’s inflections feel reminiscent of Deceit to show...something?

Ok can I just say that Logan gets so much rep for his strictness or high standards but he’s been SO GOOD about that lately and him teaching about the importance of leisure and self-care and freedom in your life and self-esteem and valuing yourself like you do with others... not even just this video -- he’s been like this in the last few as well and these recent episodes remind me of early Logan (esp My Negative Emotions) and that makes my heart so so happy.

Continuation of the above, compare this to how Logan acted in Why Bed? with regards to Roman. Roman advocated for leisure time and following dreams, while Logan had a schedule that optimized productivity and health. Now he’s taking a similar stance to Roman and asserting the importance of these things... WHY is so much of Logan’s character development OFFSCREEN?? I wanna know what made him switch on this! Maybe just cause he’s listening to roman from why bed?

Why is Logan being so abrasive? He sounds like his intent is more to disprove Patton rather than state what he actually thinks... not a fan of that but he’s not wrong

WOAH WOAH TOTAL PATTON BREAKDOWN WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE FCK HE’S A LITERAL MONSTER IN THIS VIDEO GAME?

OH, MY GOD. If Logan didn’t step in and save them here this would have been catastrophic. I can feel my relief. I mean, he screamed, but it was a relief. WAIT IT WAS DECEIT THE WHOLE TIME??? Daaaamn good job on this one Deceit and I definitely like him more now but also WHERE IS LOGAN. Was it the whole time? That makes sense in hindsight and makes me feel better about some things he’s brought up but I feel like it really was Logan at the start, it wasn’t until he started calling out patton that his voice and inflection and stuff changed

Patton trying to attack Deceit and hitting Thomas instead was an EXCELLENT way to showcase the effect SvS 1 and 2 are having

Deceit’s lil “A DUH DUH DUH DOY” looked and sounded just like Logan’s lmao don’t tell me it’s another switcheroo (I doubt it greatly lol)

REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN

So wait what was the point that Deceit switched with Logan? Cause Logan’s saying “one more fact” so he was himself earlier right?

“Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed.” Nooooo they care </3 “I will do you all a favor and spare you my company” okay OUCH

EFFECTIVE ALTRUISM YES aw he’s talking about him and patton working together yes thank you

Damn, Deceit is LOVING everything Logan says haha same

Logan and Deceit teaming up to teach Patton that it’s okay to care about yourself

DECEIT WHAT he’s being so supportive of Roman holy heck this is so genuine OH Roman’s arguing with it this is a lot of stuff I didn’t expect roman to say out loud wow

THOMAS JUST SAID DECEIT THE CHARACTER ISN’T INHERENTLY UNETHICAL WOW this episode really said let’s make Deceit--

WAIT WOAH SORRY HIS NAME REVEAL!!! He’s Janice?? Is that true?

WAIT WOAH PART 2 BUT DECEIT JUST SAID IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE MUSTACHE HE WOULDN’T KNOW WHO THE EVIL TWIN IS BETWEEN ROMAN AND REMUS HOLY SHIT HE ACTUALLY LOOKED VULNERABLE AND THEN HURT AND THEN RIGHT BACK TO SNAKE

ROMAN’S GONE

fuck.... patton...roman....deceit....thomas....logan....I’m gonna go cry about all of them now

LESLIE ODOM JR IS HERE??????? oh there he goes

patton oh my god I love you this ANGST are you trying to kill me?

Patton telling thomas he’s worthy of love I actually teared up

dfjdakjhfa deceit don’t push it

Wowie that was an EPISODE

#ts putting others first #SvS redux #sanders sides svs #janice sanders #quinpost #ts spoilers

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secretsantasides · 5 years

Text

Gift #14: Colorblind

Gift for @forestwulf

Prompt: Intrulogical Soulmate AU.

Logan massaged his temples as the nightclub music pounded in his ears, “I don’t know why you insist on coming here.”

“It’s twinks drink free night,” Patton said, sipping his appletini.

“You stopped being a twink ten years ago,” Logan muttered.

Patton sighed, “I’m going to ignore that because you’re my brother and I love you. Speaking of love-”

“Don’t,” Logan said. “Not this again.”

“Listen to me,” Patton said. “I’m worried about you, Logan. I know you’re a little robot and you don’t need romance in your life or any friends but-”

“I have friends,” Logan said.

“But,” Patton said. “You’re thirty years old and it’s starting to make mom sad on the holidays. When I met Ethan, it wasn’t sitting around at home and moping. I mean how long has it been since you were touched by another human being?”

“Soulmates,” Logan sighed. “Don’t start, Pat. I’ll gouge my eye out with this tiny umbrella.”

Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

“I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

“There is no however.”

”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

“I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

“Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

“Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

“Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

“I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

“Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

“Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

“The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

“Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

“Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

“Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

“Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

“Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

“Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

“Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

“Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

“Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

“Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

Remus hesitated, “I mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

“Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

“You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

“Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

“Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

“Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

“Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

“Hey Logan! What’s up?”

“Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

“Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

“No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

“You? I don’t believe it.”

Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

“Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

“When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

“Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

“Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

“Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

“Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

“Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

“One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

“Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

“Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

“Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.

Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

“Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

“What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

“Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

“Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

“It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

“Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

“Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

“I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

“Hot?”

“Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

“Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

“Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

“Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

“Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

“Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

“No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

“Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

#fanfic #soulmate au #secretsantasides #intrulogical #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #ts remus

208 notes · View notes

98prilla · 5 years

Text

Turned

I don't know what this is. I just had the first few lines stuck in my head and had to make something with it. I have a vague idea of this universe. Fantasy creatures/beings are real and everyone has always known this, most are fine and harmless, but sometimes they’re dangerous, they go “feral” or lose control of their minds and lose themselves. Maybe the boys are hunters that deal with mythical creatures that are feral or dangerous, and in this case they were tracking a pack of vampires, when Patton somehow got ahead of the group and cornered. That's all the backstory I got folks, thanks for coming to my veeery improved TedTalk.

“Patton, please. You need to eat.” The words were soft, concerned, but he simply shrunk back against the wall, shaking his head frantically.

They were right. The hunger snaked through his stomach, clouded his mind, it was a physical ache that echoed through his marrow, pounding in his head with a steady thrum, whispering food, food, feed.

It would be so easy. He was right there, he could lunge and then warmth would coat his throat, he could drink and drink until he was drowsy from being stuffed full, blessedly full.

He shook his head with a sharp breath, pressing himself further back, trembling. He was light headed, bright spots of color dancing across his vision, and he squeezed his fingers tighter against his arms, digging them into his skin. He couldn’t risk hurting them, he couldn’t take that chance, he couldn’t control the hunger gnawing away inside his chest, hollowing him out until he couldn’t think straight.

“You have gone too long without feeding, and I understand that recently after turning is the most delicate and dangerous time for a new vampire. Not eating now could very easily lead to starvation.” A different voice, concern clear in the timbre of his facts.

“Good.” Patton blurted, the first word he’d spoken in more than two days. He could feel the stunned silence from his companions, hoped they’d just go away. He could smell the too sweet scent of their blood, could hear it pounding through their veins, and it took everything in him not to bare his newly grown fangs.

“Virgil wants to see you.” Roman said after a too long pause, and for once Patton’s eyes darted up, focusing on Roman's face. He’s worried about you." Patton swallowed dryly, eyes flicking between the two men.

“How is… how is he?” he asked. He’d been so absorbed in himself, he’d almost forgotten. The struggle, flailing of limbs, a searing pain in his neck, flooding through his veins, fear making his heart beat loud in his ears.

Then a blur of purple, a furious, wordless shout, and Patton was let go, sliding down the wall he’d been pinned against with a gasp. He heard the sounds of a struggle, of flesh against flesh, snarls and growls and hisses of pain. Then soft brown eyes looking into his, blood dripping into one eye from a gash on his forehead, one arm twisted oddly, words he couldn’t comprehend falling from his lips. Roman and Logan exchanged a glance, making Patton's heat speed.

“What? What is it?” he asked, a bit frantic.

“He'll be alright. But it might… take a while. His injuries were far from superficial." Logan replied, and Patton's hands fluttered nervously. If he really was going to starve himself to death, he at least owed a goodbye to Virgil.

“He stayed with you, y’know. While you… changed. He wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let Logan look at him, until he was sure you weren’t going to die from it.” Patton shivered, vaguely remembering the feeling of heat flooding his veins, burning through him as the venom spread, as it burned the human out of him, leaving emptiness behind. But he remembered murmurs, hands running through his hair, a damp cloth on his forehead, the low cadence of Virgil’s voice, arguing with someone. Probably Logan. He bit his lip.

“ok" he whispered softly, slowly getting to his feet, leaning against the wall as his head swam.

“Ok?” Roman asked, surprised. This was more of a reaction than they’d gotten in days from Patton. It was both exciting and worrying. Patton was the most effusive of the four of them. The fact that he was so subdued now was almost terrifying.

“I'll… I wanna see Virg. If that’s ok.”

“Of course it is ok, Patton. He’s in the living room at the moment. Do you require assistance getting there?” Logan asked, his voice low, a smidge too even to be natural. Patton shook his head again, regretting it as dizziness crested over him.

Logan stepped back, out of the doorway, hands carefully clasped behind his back. Roman followed his lead, though he looked pained at being unable to reach out.

God, how Patton wanted a hug, a comforting touch on the shoulder, a playful ruffle of his hair, but he could hear their blood pounding from here, was afraid instinct would take over on contact, was afraid of what he’d do if he could physically feel their pulse.

So he slipped past them, managing to keep his footing as he made his way down the hall that contained their bedrooms, pausing in the doorway that led to the living room, a small noise of distress escaping his throat.

Virgil was sitting on the couch, leg elevated on a foot rest before him, an ice pack on top of a splinted leg. The opposite arm was in a sling, bound with expert care against his chest. He could see bandages poking out from under his sweater around his left hand, a patch of gauze taped above his eye. There was a dark, angry bruise around his left eye, not to mention he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, face even more drawn than usual. His gaze snapped to Patton at his small squeak, eyes widening, a small, relieved half smile playing across his face as hope sparked to life in his eyes.

“Heya.” He did his little two finger salute, and Patton couldn’t help himself anymore. He launched himself across the room, landing nearly on top of Virgil, burying his face against his hoodie, clinging onto it, letting out the sob building in his chest. He didn’t hear Virgil’s pained hiss or the shock of pain that flashed across his face at the impact.

“I’m sorry, you… you're all beat up and it’s my fault for being so stupid, and, and I…” he hiccupped, unable to keep going, to keep talking with how hard he was crying, leaving him more light headed than he’d already been as he gasped in air. He felt Virgil’s one arm wrap around his shoulders, felt him rest his chin against Patton’s shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath as he held Patton as tightly as he could, ignoring the sharp stinging ache from his chest that meant his cracked ribs were pissed, the bruises that covered his torso that Patton was pushing on, squeezing him tight. It didn’t matter.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I’m ok. I should have called for back up as soon as I saw, but I just… I saw you and I couldn’t… I couldn’t let them take you. I wanted to be there, when you woke up, but Logan wouldn’t let me, said I needed to get looked at too. Probably right, but still.” Patton sniffled pulling away, across the couch, too aware of Virgil’s heart beat when practically laying on top of him, not to mention the sharp inhales that gave away Virgil’s pain.

“But… but they did. I’m…turned.” Patton almost whispered, surprised at the vehement shake of Virgil’s head, the ferocity that flared to life in his eyes.

“No. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter that you got turned. You’re still you, Pat, still yourself. Still… still here. Not in some vampire den being brainwashed until all your memories are gone, not lying in some alley…” He paused, running a hand through his hair, sagging back against the couch. “I was so scared. I saw you pinned, saw the fangs and I just… I lost it. I got so wildly furious. Because I thought… I thought they’d killed my best friend.” Virgil's voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain the memory of panicked, rage infused anguish as he pummeled vamp after vamp, barely noticing their extra ordinary strength, how their hits cracked bone, their nails clawed through his clothes. He bared his own teeth in a feral grimace, hissing and spitting and dodging and stabbing at anything within reach with his daggers until he lost them in the melee. That didn’t stop him, pummeling anything in his path with his fists until he heard the other’s shouts, their pounding steps.

“If you think you can take all three of us, be my guest.” He spat, as they all paused at the noise. They looked over him closely, appraisingly, bruised and bloody, arm broken, leg snapped, burning eyes refusing to look down, face twisted in a snarl that even they couldn’t match with all their fangs, still ready to and willing to brawl despite his bruised and swollen knuckles. A moment passed, seemingly endless. Then, as one, they turned and fled. As soon as they were out of sight he fell to his knees beside Patton, nearly collapsing when he saw Patton’s eyes on him, still seeing, still alive, still there, barely aware as Logan and Roman skidded to a halt beside him, half delirious himself as the adrenaline washed away, but refusing to let go of Patton.

“we both know vampires aren’t inherently bad. Not all of them are dangerous, most of them aren’t, actually. It’s only ones that are cruel or power hungry or twisted as humans to begin with, or the ones who didn’t have anyone or anything to hold onto, who’ve gone feral. You’re none of those things, Pat. You’re the farthest from any of those things I’ve ever seen! You’re afraid, and that’s… that’s ok. That’s normal. But you don’t have to be. You’re not a monster, or some dangerous creature, you’re just… a human with weird dietary needs.” That earned a stifled laugh from Patton, a smile flicking across Virgil’s face in response. “it’ll be ok. But I need… I need you to feed, I need you to not give up i… I need you, pat. I can’t… I can’t lose any of my family.” The words were strained, and Patton could see his breathing start to falter, the panic overwhelming him, and without thinking, he reached out, firmly squeezing Virgil’s hand, kneeling on the couch beside him, grounding him as he counted, until Virgil calmed.

Patton’s heart ached at seeing one of his “kiddos”, as he refered to his friends, his team, so afraid, so overwhelmingly scared, and it hurt knowing he was the cause.

“What if I hurt you? What if I lose control and hurt all of you? What if I don’t remember my own strength and we’re sparring and I punch you through a wall?” Virgil snorted at that last one, imagining Roman’s indignant face looking up from a heap of plywood, dust staining his usually immaculate white and red letterman’s jacket.

“Virgil, I’m serious!” Patton protested, lightly swatting at Virgil, and Virgil’s smile faded from his lips, but the warmth in his eyes was overwhelming.

“You didn’t hurt me just then. In the five days you’ve been a vampire, well, three if we’re counting when you were conscious, you spent them hiding away because you were afraid of hurting anyone. You’re starving yourself because you’re afraid of hurting anyone. That doesn’t sound like someone who would lose control. That sounds like someone who is right now excersising the strictest self discipline I’ve ever seen. Even when you were delirious and feverish you never once lashed out. You’re not going to hurt anyone, Pat. Especially not one of us.” Virgil answered, refusing to back down, to let Patton challenge his words. He pulled up his sleeve with his teeth, making a face at the taste of the fabric, then held out his wrist, palm up.

Patton stilled, fear and panic and longing and desperate need sweeping through him. His eyes found Virgil’s, who quirked his brow, that small smile back on his lips.

“I trust you, Pat.” He said, lowly, sincerity written across every line of his face. Patton took a shaky breath then nodded, hesitantly supporting Virgil’s arm, carefully sinking his fangs into the soft skin.

His eyes widened in surprise at the taste. He’d expected it to be coppery and slimy, for disgust to well up in him and for him to be unable to continue. Instead, it was tangy and sweet, almost like a mix of raspberries and citrus. He kept an eye on Virgil the whole time, making sure it wasn’t causing him any harm or pain, making sure he wasn’t taking too much. After a long moment he pulled away, cringing at what he’d just done, hating himself for it, feeling slightly ill and disgusted. Virgil caught the expression, and grabbed hold of his hand before he could retreat again.

“Don’t you dare be ashamed of yourself. We’ve set up a schedule already, of blood drawing from each of us, so there’ll be blood in the fridge for you when you need it. Figured it might be less awkward than this.” Virgil said, gesturing between the two of them. “You won’t need to eat as often as you did before, so that helps. And if you bad talk or bad think yourself I will physically fight you.” Patton let out a giggle at that, an echo of a statement he’d said to Virgil more times than he could count. He sighed, then curled tight against Virgil, surprising him, but after a moment Virgil nestled close, wrapping his arm around Patton’s shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know…” He trailed off, feeling Virgil rub his shoulder soothingly.

“One day at a time, Pat. We can do it one day at a time. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. It’ll be alright. I promise.” Virgil murmured, head resting atop Patton’s. His eyes met Roman’s and Logan’s, who had stayed hovering in the doorway, watching and listening, but giving Patton his space.

Logan’s shoulders were slumped in relief, the disruption of his usually perfect posture enough to reveal how worried sick he’d really been. Roman was beaming, relief written across his face, he was always an open book. Virgil smiled back, letting out a long breath.

“can I… can I sit with you, for a while?” Patton asked, voice small, and Virgil chuckled.

“Of course, Pat. As long as you like.” He murmured, knowing Patton needed the reassurance and rest just as much as he himself did, knowing both of them had been too twisted up inside to get the rest they needed. Now that Patton had eaten, wasn’t going to die, he felt something in his own stomach unknot, tiredness pouring through him.

“Virg? Thank you. F-for everything.”

“Always, dadio.” Virgil smiled as he watched Patton drift off to sleep, raising an eyebrow at Logan and Roman, who quietly made their way across the room.

“Good work, Edge Lord.” Roman quipped. Virgil stuck out his tongue in response, smile genuine.

“All in a day’s work.” He replied. He leaned back against the couch as a spasm of pain rocketed through his chest, breath catching in his throat at the shock of it, like a bucket of cold water waking him up out of a dead sleep. It took a moment to put his composure back together, to assume his usual façade.

“Virgil. Are you alright?” He had to roll his eyes at that question, coming from Logan of all people.

“Yeah, I just nearly got beat to death by a pack of half feral vampires, but I’m fine. Definitly not sore or anything.” He replied sarcastically. It took Logan a moment to register the tone, and once he did he sighed.

“I meant, are you any worse? Any new symptoms or pains I should be aware of?” Virgil softened, head lolling back against the couch cushion, staring up at the ceiling as he categorized his aches and pains. All present and accounted for. Oddly, the broken limbs hurt the least, now that they were set and bound up. Getting them in that position was a bitch, though. He shook his head, focusing on the present,

“Sorry. That was… rude. No, nothing new, nothing any worse, really, just got a little aggravated from the love tackle I got from the koala here.” He replied, tipping his heard towards Patton. Roman gave a small laugh, and he knew Logan was adjusting his glasses. “Just the ribs. Not much you can do about those, anyway.” He finished absent mindedly, tracing the pattern of some stain on the ceiling with his eyes.

“You need rest, too, Virg. A good lot of it, too.” Roman answered, uncharacteristically reserved. Virgil nodded.

“Yeah. Nap sounds good right about now.” He murmured, barely aware of his eyes drifting shut. He heard a low laugh, and felt something warm be tucked around him and Patton, a soft tune being hummed nearby, as he drifted off.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #hurt/comfort #kinda angsty #happy ending #vampire hunter au?#vampire au?#who knows #not me #that's for sure

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lovelylogans · 5 years

Note

I just came up with just like the worst prompt for a sideshire file: adult, sensible, reasonable Virgil finding out MCR is back and flipping out

the black parade

we’ll carry on, we’ll carry onand though you’re dead and gone, believe meyour memory will carry onwe’ll carry on

-welcome to the black parade, my chemical romance

part of the wyliwf verse.

ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: food mentions, remus mentions, grief mentions, cryptid mentions, emotionally dealing with a deceased parent, let me know if i missed anything!

pairings: logince, moxiety

words: 4,824

notes: how dare you call this absolute gem of a prompt “the worst” also did i schedule this to come out on the day of the concert YES!!! the timeline is kinda hand-wavey on this one, so let’s just say it happens shortly after the main storyline and it makes sense for mcr to announce that news on that date and for it to fit in with the narrative i’m telling here, okay? okay! (the song roman is listening to is “bombastic” by bonnie mckee, and honestly sub in any mcr instrumentals for any song virgil is mentioned to be listening to this oneshot.)

patton first hears about it, surprisingly, from his son.

though logan isn’t quite as in tune (well, patton thinks it’s funny!) with the music scene as the sanders’ significant others—roman with pop and musicals, and virgil with his more eclectic taste—he is, of course, the most in tune with the news.

the mcr reunion certainly qualifies as news.

when patton opens the link his son has texted him, he stares at it for a few seconds, and says aloud, “ah.”

so, virgil is probably going absolutely feral.

back when patton had first gotten to know virgil, his interest in music had been surprising—the diner usually played soft music, jazz or old-timey songs or instrumentals, non-offensive songs that usually everyone could tolerate and talk over without noticing it very much, playlists swapping up so that employees on the same shift wouldn’t want to plug their ears if they ever heard buddy holly again.

now he knows that virgil doesn’t that over into his personal life, and that he mostly plays that music because it’s the kind of music his parents played when they ran the diner. when patton first sees virgil’s music collection, he was surprised, and then he thought about it more and it made sense. why else would he always be listening to music on his headphones, even when it was just the two of them?

now, it’s weird to even think that he’d thought virgil’s taste was ever, well. tame, he supposes. mainstream.

patton checks the time. it’s probably early enough that he can pass this off as a coffee break, and not to check that virgil has passed out in the midst of the diner.

patton’s trying to formulate the best way to ask “so, have you heard the news?” question in case patton is somehow the one to break it to him, but when he walks into the diner and listens to the music for a couple seconds, he doesn’t even need to bother asking. it speaks for itself.

to virgil’s credit, he isn’t blaring the entire mcr discography.

he is, however, blaring instrumental covers of what seems like the entire mcr discography.

or at least, the diner is—virgil’s nowhere in sight. patton just kind of assumes that he’s back in the kitchen, so he goes to sit at the counter, waiting for him to emerge with a tray or a rag, maybe not grinning, except for maybe that soft secretive smile he does sometimes, but probably humming along.

he doesn’t come out for a while—that’s pretty normal, this time of day, it is the early dinner rush—but then patton puts in an order for hot cocoa/coffee.

and he actually gets it. and he can smell that it’s not decaf. which means—

patton leans over the counter, and smiles at jean. “where’s v?”

“kitchen,” jean says.

“and he actually gave me something caffeinated at this time of day? are we sure this is virgil?”

jean laughs. “i guess he’s in a good mood, then.”

patton smiles down at his mug, tracing his pinky around its rim. “guess so.”

patton sips his way through about two-thirds of his mug before virgil emerges from the kitchen, towel swept over his shoulder, a carafe of coffee in each hand. which is mostly normal.

except he’s humming, and grinning, and instead of his usual purple flannel or hoodie, he’s wearing all black. there’s the flash of a band tee underneath the black hoodie he’s got on. patton hides his grin behind his mug.

“oh, hey,” virgil says, snapping out of his haze.

“so i guess i’m not about to break the news to you, huh?” patton teases.

“nah, you’re not,” virgil says, smiling still as he replaces the coffee carafes before he leans on the counter. the other servers, used to this, scoot around him in their quest to deliver food back and forth.

“we could time a visit to chris to go, if you want,” patton says. “since he lives in california.”

virgil looks incredibly tempted, before he says, “let’s think on it?”

patton nods and leans over the counter to kiss virgil on the cheek—a new thing he’s been doing lately, now that they’re dating—virgil ducks his head, flushing, like he does every time. patton can’t help the smile that springs onto his face, every time.

“i’m happy you’re happy about it, darling,” patton says.

“you’re ruining my street cred,” virgil mutters, blushing still.

patton fights his own grin. yeah, virgil’s street cred, his reputation rife with hoisting kids into his arms so they could better see the pastry display, and well-known for opening his door to anyone who had a last-minute stitching or alteration emergency, including a number of teary-eyed brides who’d invite him to their wedding on the spot, regularly slipping extra tips to his workers who were struggling, would definitely be harmed by his boyfriend—partner?—kissing him on the cheek.

what he says instead of any of that is, “you’re marathoning punk rock in the diner right now, honey, i don’t think your rep’s gonna get harmed from anything i do.”

virgil tilts his head, acknowledging this point. “you sticking around for dinner?”

“should be,” patton says. “i’ll text logan that i’m here.”

“mkay,” virgil says, and digs around in his pocket, fishing out his notepad and pen with a flourish. “wanna order now or later?”

patton probably shouldn’t use virgil’s good mood for his own benefit. he really, really shouldn’t. but he’s got a real craving, so…

“refill of hot cocoa/coffee, cheeseburger, fries?” patton tries, keeping his voice extra blasé.

a soft hum of acknowledgement as virgil scrawls it all down, and says, “cheddar cheese, right, or do you want colby jack?”

patton smiles. “cheddar cheese, please. oh, and some french silk pie?”

virgil tilts his head at patton with a look, fond and irked, and patton gives him a sheepish grin.

virgil sighs. “and french silk pie,” he grumbles, adding it on, and patton nearly crows with victory. he loses that battle when he can’t contain a soft “ha!” as virgil tops off his mug.

virgil rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile clinging around the edges of his mouth as he disappears back into the kitchen.

patton digs out his phone. get to virgil’s he’s just given me junk food AND caffeine AND a dessert!!!!!!!!!

He added vegetables, surely?

NONE!!!!!!!!!!!

a pause. I’ll be there shortly.

patton grins and tucks his phone back into his pocket. even if logan was better with nutrition than he was, logan was still weak for a good, artery-clogging meal once in a while. virgil handing them out on a silver platter? a rarity that practically demanded to be taken advantage of.

when his phone buzzes, and the bell jangles, patton turns to see logan and roman filing into the diner. patton picks up his mug of hot cocoa/coffee, and heads back to join roman and logan in a booth, sitting across from them.

“hi, roman,” patton says.

“i heard virgil is handing out junk food like it’s candy,” roman says excitedly. “i want to see if i can talk him into giving me endless soda refills, for once.”

“he’s refilled my hot cocoa/coffee,” patton says, gleeful. “my caffeinated hot cocoa/coffee.”

“chances are good!” roman practically cheers. “i wanna get, ooh, um—um, breakfast for dinner! like a platter of breakfast for dinner!”

“it’s worth a shot,” patton says. “logan?”

“me too,” logan decides. “i want pancakes.”

“trade you bites of french toast for bites of pancake?”

“deal.”

roman and logan fall into discussing the latest happenings around the town—stories about the little kids in dance classes, the latest courant goofs, the hottest pieces of old-lady gossip—and by the time virgil re-emerges from the kitchen, patton gets to watch him blink, bemused and a little startled, at the absence of patton at the counter.

biting back a giggle, patton leans out of the booth so virgil can see him more clearly, and virgil nods, maybe saying “ahhh” under his breath, and emerges from behind the counter.

“hey, what can i get—“

a moment, a brief moment, one that patton isn’t sure that roman or logan even notice—when they both turn, roman grinning and logan… looking polite, at least—virgil falters, eyes widening, and he swallows, eyes flashing with… something. and then—

“—you two?”

“hot cocoa/coffee and a stack of pancakes,” logan says, looking at virgil sidelong, and virgil nods, eyes wide and… strangely attentive? not that virgil isn’t usually attentive, it’s just that virgil looks like… well, virgil looks like something’s struck him and he’s realized Something and he’s paying even closer attention. or something.

“how many?”

“um,” logan says, and glances at patton, who mouths go for it so logan says, “five?”

“five pancakes, hot cocoa/coffee, got it,” virgil says, absent, and then he swallows again. “roman?” he says gruffly.

“i want the breakfast combo with bacon, and french toast, and waffles, and hashbrowns, and instead of the regular toast side thing can i do biscuits and gravy?”

“bacon, french toast, waffles, hash browns, biscuits and gravy instead of toast, got it,” virgil says, staring at him still. “drink?”

“cherry coke?”

“yeah, of course,” virgil says, strangely choked, and then he just kind of—does something weird? even by virgil standards. wait, especially by virgil standards.

virgil awkwardly puts a hand on roman’s shoulder, removes it, and then puts it back on his shoulder again, and when roman looks up at him with a bemused kind of smile, virgil leans in, halting and jerking, and then just kind of—hugs him?

it might actually be generous to call it a hug. he sort of wraps roman up in his arms, and his arms just kind of end up circling roman’s head, because he’s standing and roman’s sitting, and roman, bewildered, manages to reach up and pat virgil’s shoulder, and virgil pats roman’s hair in a reciprocal moment of oddness before he lets go of him and says “um, right, okay, i’ll put those orders in and get someone to bring out your drinks” and speedwalks away from any semblance of a lingering awkward moment.

“um,” roman says, and flicks his hand to correct his hair from where virgil mussed it up. “that was… kind of weird? that was weird, right?”

“that was strange,” logan agrees, at the same time patton says, “yep, definitely weird.”

the conversation moves forward slowly, and jean ends up dropping off their drinks (and! giving! patton! a! third!!! refill!) and then jean ends up… bringing out their food, too? with no healthy alterations, which is good. virgil even gives him some ice cream with his pie, so that patton can combine it in a slightly disgusting but very delicious mess.

and by the time the check comes, virgil hasn’t re-emerged from the kitchen. which. okay. it’s dinner rush. sure.

but usually, he at least comes out to say goodbye.

so patton digs out his phone, and sends him a you’re free to drop by the house once you close up! text.

and then he ends up walking home with logan and roman. or, well.

“um,” logan says, when they’re about fifteen feet from the prince’s studio and apartment, “dad?”

“huh?” patton says, distracted, before the look that roman and logan exchange clicks, and the whole “walking someone home” thing clicks, and his own teenage experiences, and he says, “oh! oh, right! right, right, right.”

“dad,” logan groans.

“you wanna get me out of the way so you two can do cute couple-y teenager things, right, i get you,” patton says, grinning still, backing away slowly. “your old man’s still hip, you know.”

“dad.”

“don’t mind me, i’m just gonna,” patton says, grinning still, and waves a hand vaguely. “i’m just gonna stare real closely at the, um, the town decorations over there, and, uh, you can come and tap me on the shoulder when you’re ready to keep walking home, yeah?”

patton turns his back at the same time logan makes a strangled, embarrassed noise, and roman giggles, and he hears logan say “i’m sorry about—that” and roman giggle and say “don’t be. you’re cute when you get all huffy, you know” and then patton’s out of earshot and stares very intently at the wreaths and garlands dotting the town.

his baby has a boyfriend. it’s cute. it’s puppy love. it’s the kind of tooth-achingly sweet first relationship and the subsequent milestones that patton could have ever hoped for his son, even if the concept of “logan” and “dating” were still two very strange concepts to combine. it also provides patton his lifetime quota of “good-natured teasing of my child” that was bestowed upon him the moment he became a dad.

there’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see logan, who’s blushing, just a little bit.

“we really need to coordinate our walks home so this never happens again,” logan grumbles, already walking past him, and patton picks up the pace.

“aw, hon, don’t be embarrassed,” patton says. “it’s perfectly natural to—”

“no,” logan complains, and patton laughs even as he starts to croon, “logan and roman, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s—”

“dad!”

⁂

patton’s humming quietly to himself by the time he hears his front door open, and he smiles.

“hey,” he calls, setting aside the book he’d been reading. well. attempting to read.

stomp, stomp, stomp, virgil clearing his boots of any lingering wetness that might track onto patton’s carpet. the susurrus of virgil taking off his bulky winter coat and tucking it in with the others in the coat closet. a kiss dropped on the top of patton’s head.

“hey,” virgil murmurs, and patton shuffles aside, tugging up his blanket, so that virgil has space to settle in beside patton, as most of the other spaces in the living room are taken up by laundry or books. this way, patton can cuddle him. patton may have plotted a little bit to ensure this development happened.

patton sighs happily as he tosses the blanket over virgil and snuggles into virgil’s side.

“rest of the shift go okay?” he asks, voice soft.

“yeah, it’s fine,” virgil murmurs, adjusting a little so that his arm settles soundly over patton’s shoulders.

“good,” patton murmurs, rests his head on virgil’s shoulder and fights off a yawn. the yawn is afforded a narrow victory. “that’s good.”

“you haven’t been staying up for me, have you?”

“nuh-uh,” patton fibs, and then, “okay, yes, but i got your text and i didn’t wanna be rude by just being asleep when you got here.”

“i wouldn’t have been offended by you being well-rested,” virgil murmurs.

“you’re gonna say that i should—”

“—get ready for bed, yeah,” virgil finishes, sounding amused. “you know, i bet you’re so tired because—”

“don’t say it,” patton complains, even as virgil’s standing and tugging patton to his feet.

“—because of caffeine crash,” virgil finishes triumphantly. “you got way more caffeine than you’re used to this time of day, and—”

patton groans as he stamps up the stairs, even though he’s holding virgil’s hand the whole way, pulling him all the way into his bed.

“stay here,” patton commands. “i’m gonna do what you want.”

“you say that like i’m not just asking you put on your pajamas and brush your teeth,” virgil says, amused, and patton rolls his eyes even as he bends to kiss virgil.

“the next one will be minty-fresh,” patton informs him, before he flounces off to the bathroom. the last thing he sees is virgil sitting on his bed and bending to remove his boots, a smile playing about his lips.

when he comes back, virgil’s tugging on a t-shirt, one he’d left the last time he spent the night, and patton flops happily onto his bed, watching as virgil smooths down the hem. virgil turns, and patton pats the other side of the bed.

“minty-fresh, huh?” virgil asks, as he lifts the covers and slides into place.

patton grins at him. “shameless,” he teases, before he leans in to kiss virgil, and patton can taste that virgil had brushed his teeth, too, probably before he’d even come over, the kiss soft and sleepy, and patton smiles as they pull back.

“love you,” patton says, and presses a kiss to virgil’s shoulder for emphasis.

“i love you too,” virgil says. “lamp off?”

“yeah, sure,” patton says, and virgil leans up. the room’s doused in darkness. patton reaches for virgil and settles his head onto virgil’s chest.

“your shift was really okay, though?” patton asks, shifting in place to get comfy.

“yeah, ‘course,” virgil says, and adjusts slightly himself, settling his hand on patton’s shoulder blade.

“you sure?”

“why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because,” patton says, “and, no pressure whatever you decide, but you got kinda weird with roman, and i’m wondering if it was just a momentary fluke of weirdness or something that you maybe wanted to talk about.”

virgil freezes. patton feels him tense.

“oh,” virgil says quietly. “that.”

“yeah,” patton says softly, and leans a little so that he can try to see virgil’s face with the slivers of light slanting through his blinds from the half-moon tonight.

virgil chews his lip for a few seconds, before he blurts out, “remus liked mcr.”

oh. roman’s dad.

patton had met him once, one time, if you could even call it meeting—he’d accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation between virgil and remus, and that’s how he’d known that remus was going to become a father. patton had asked virgil about him, after, and virgil had said he was an old friend, promised to introduce patton to him, maybe introduce remus’ kid to logan, once he was out of the womb.

and then he’d died. and virgil hadn’t talked about him very much since.

“yeah?” patton prompts, voice gentle and soft.

“yeah,” virgil says, a little rough, and he clears his throat, squirming a little. “uh—he mostly liked stuff that most people… didn’t really like, i guess. stuff outside of the norm. he had the biggest cd collection of anyone i knew. metal, punk rock, screamo, witch house.” a flicker of a smile. “medieval folk rock.”

“medieval folk rock?” patton says, voice edged in a laugh.

“if it was weird, he liked it,” virgil says. “god, the things he’d play on the radio, sometimes… we’d be going to egg someone’s house or something, and he’d be blaring slavic polka or ectofolk or just—” virgil snorts, “—one time, he just kept playing it’s a small world. for a week. i could’ve strangled him.”

“he sounds like he was funny,” patton offers.

“you’d have to have a very specific sense of humor to find him funny,” virgil says.

“did you?” patton says. “find him funny, i mean.”

“mm. sometimes. some things he said, i thought he was funny. others… others kind of scared me,” virgil says. he clears his throat. “remus didn’t particularly have a filter when it came to gross, taboo ideas, and he wasn’t shy about sharing them. doing them, sometimes. he was voted most likely to go to prison when he graduated from sideshire high.”

patton doesn’t really know what to say to that. so he just says, “ah.”

“i’m not sure if you would have liked each other,” virgil says.

“hey,” patton says, frowning.

“oh, you would have tried,” virgil says. “remus would have seen you were trying. he’d say something as a test, something you’d get uncomfortable with. you’d be polite about it and try to change the subject. but remus probably would have seen that you were uncomfortable with the stuff he said, and he would have delighted in grossing you out even more.”

patton considers this, before he says, “like boys on the playground who chase people with a worm on a stick to get everyone to squeal, or something?”

virgil huffs out a laugh. “sure,” he says. “that’s a good enough way to put it. tame, when it’s applied to remus, but… yeah. that’s the gist of it.”

“so,” patton says. “mcr.”

“and seeing roman, sitting there…” virgil says, and exhales a huge, gusting sigh. “face-wise, he looks so much like his dad.”

“face-wise?”

“remus was taller,” virgil says. “i know roman’s not done growing yet, so they might even out, but—but remus had a longer torso, shorter legs. different ears. remus always had dark under-eye circles. there’s something about the hands, too, i think. he was clumsier. had a less muscular build. remus wasn’t much of a dancer—well, he could lift isadora, but that’s about it, and i think that’s mostly because she’s tiny.”

“got it.”

“plus, i mean, remus was white, and since isadora's mexican, roman clearly isn't white, but—but roman’s face… i mean, slap a mustache on there and a white streak in his hair, and put that plotting look on his face that he gets sometimes, and i don’t think i’d be able to tell them apart.”

“like the plotting look like he had at dinner tonight,” patton realizes quietly.

“yeah,” virgil says, then, again, a little choked up. “yeah.”

patton wiggles closer and hugs virgil tighter.

“you could tell him about him,” patton suggests quietly. “roman about remus, i mean. i bet he’d love to know.”

“maybe,” virgil says. “i spent most of shift thinking about it. i just—you know.”

“miss him?”

“yeah.”

patton isn’t very familiar with grief; his grandparents, barring his granny lorelai, all died either before he was born or when he was a baby. the handful of funerals he went to were for people that he didn’t know very well—relatives he’d seen three times before, old “family friends” that his parents had fallen out of touch with, a couple business partners of his father’s—and so the only part he’s familiar with is this part. the comforting part.

“i’m sorry,” patton says quietly. “is there anything i can do?”

virgil let out a shaky exhale, and his grip tightens. “this is good.”

“okay,” patton says, and holds him tighter. “okay.”

⁂

i came to win, win, win, better show me what you goti came to bring the fire ‘cause you know i like it hotgonna win, win, win, ‘cause i’m full of tiger bloodi’m vicious like a viper and i’m ready to turn it on!

roman bops his head absentmindedly, headphones soundly on his ears, focus… maybe not quite so sound, but he’s at least holding a pencil and looking at his homework, so he thinks that counts as an attempt at focus on this stupid homework. like, who even needs proofs in real life?

so when a cup that looks like it’s full of soda is set in front of him, roman’s eager to hit pause and set down his pencil, looking up at his deliverer.

“uh, hey,” virgil says. “you busy?”

“not really,” roman lies brightly, pushing aside his homework. virgil’s eyes narrow when he sees it.

“you’re doing homework.”

“it can wait,” roman says, putting down his pencil. “seriously, it can wait. i want it to wait.”

“yeah, kid, that’s half the problem,” virgil retorts, tilting the textbook a little so that he can read, and his brow furrows. “geometry proofs?”

“like i said,” roman says, shoving his papers into the textbook before he closes it, “it can wait.”

“yeah, i guess,” virgil says, and he slides into the seat across from roman, holding onto his own beverage—a mug, probably with decaf coffee, or something—which he’s tap-tap-tapping his fingernails against. “uh. still not a math person?”

“yeah, archi-melancholy, because most people going into dance and theater and the fine arts are so well-known to be math people,” roman quips, and virgil smiles, just a little.

“archimedes joke?”

“i tried,” roman says. “again. not a math person.”

he takes a sip. cherry coke. the actual good kind with caffeine and full sugar and everything. which means that either virgil’s good mood has lasted two days—doubtful, considering he’s fidgeting with his mug—or he’s about to attempt a vague Emotional Talk, or something. he’s pretty sure he picked up the habit of giving people food they like as a special treat whenever there’s the possibility of upset from patton. or maybe it started with patton. who knows.

“so, uh,” virgil says. “what’re you listening to?”

“pop song,” roman says. “after your time. i think it’s too young for you. and it’s also, like, slightly cheerful and confidence-boosting.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’ve been sneak-playing mcr for the past two days,” roman says accusingly.

“they’re a good band,” virgil protests, and then, with an affected, forceful casualness, “your dad liked them too.”

roman pauses. hearing about his dad is kind of like… well, honestly, it’s kind of like hearing about bigfoot, or mothman, or yetis, or some other kind of cryptid. sure, people might have seen him. roman never had. sure, people had interacted with him. roman hadn’t. sure, people had stories about him. roman didn’t. sure, people might have blurry, strange pictures that roman had touched, stared at, seen his whole life. roman didn’t have one with him, not even his dad holding him as a baby. remus duke is almost a larger-than-life, obscure piece of sideshire mythology. remus duke, the famous horror author, with the tragic death, who’d once been the mysterious partner in crime with local loner virgil, who’d bravely volunteered to co-parent with the fearsome isadora prince. people might have seen him. believed in him.

roman feels like a cryptid hunter, sometimes. like he’s doomed to always be questing out into the mysterious unknown, searching for some evidence, some form of personal connection, some story that’s his. he’s almost always come up empty.

doesn’t stop him from turning back for another quest.

he takes another sip. and, in an affected, forcefully casual tone, he says, “did he?”

virgil clears his throat. “yeah. uh—yeah.”

“that’s… cool,” roman says.

“i kind of—“ virgil coughs. “i mean, i, uh. sorry for the whole awkward… hugging thing. i just—you know. i think he would have been happy. to hear they were back together.”

roman swallows and looks down into his cup. “oh.”

he would have been happy. roman hears that sometimes. apparently, his dad would have been happy that he turned out dancing like his mom. apparently, his dad would have been happy that he had once tackled a mean kid at sideshire for calling logan annoying. apparently, his dad would have been happy that my chemical romance reunited.

it’s not like roman would know.

roman taps his fingernails against the cup and looks back up at virgil, before he says, “were they his favorite?”

“huh?”

“my chemical romance,” roman elaborates. “were they my dad’s favorite band?”

“ah, no,” virgil says. “no. he, uh—he liked a lot of bands. his favorites changed a lot. but he liked, um—he liked the residents, and captain beefheart and the magic band. oh, and rockbitch.”

roman’s lip twitches. “captain beefheart?”

“it was a band from the sixties,” virgil says. “lots of experimental stuff. he liked everything as long as it was weird.”

“yeah, i’ve heard,” roman says.

virgil hesitates, before he says, “once, he just played it’s a small world on loop for a week.”

roman cringes at the very idea. virgil laughs.

“yeah, i think that reaction was half the reason,” he says. “i think i, um. i think i’ve still got his cd collection in some boxes, stored away. he had the biggest music collection of anyone i’d ever met. i think the idea of spotify or music streaming the way we’ve got now would’ve given him heart palpitations.”

“of stress?”

“of excitement,” virgil corrects, and his lips twitch up in a bittersweet kind of smile. “he would have hacked the diner playlist and stuffed it full of rickrolling and a ten-hour gregorian chant remix and cotton eye joe and peanut butter jelly time and some pirate shanties, with, like, jesus take the wheel and that one song about christmas shoes thrown in for color.”

roman laughs, and virgil looks relieved.

“but, i figured,” virgil says, and shrugs. “i think you like music even more than him, maybe. so if you’ve got a stereo somewhere, you could—you could take any cd you want from it. i’m sure your mom would be thrilled to hear the dulcet tones of tuvan throat singing blaring in the apartment again.”

“okay,” roman says, and his voice comes out more eager than he means it to. “i—yeah, okay. i’d like that.”

“yeah?” virgil says.

“yeah,” roman says.

“uh, virgil?” jean calls. “the oven’s doing the smoking thing again!”

virgil curses under his breath, getting to his feet, before he taps his fingers against the table. “just—let me know when, yeah? i can show you the mcr album he doodled all over. practically gave it new cover art.”

“okay,” roman says.

“and do your homework!” virgil shouts over the din of concerned customers, even as he’s heading for the kitchen.

roman sighs, but tugs his textbook closer and opens it again.

the smile reappears on his face when, a couple songs later, a g-note rings throughout the diner.

#the sideshire files #ask #my fic #anonymous #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 years

Text

Sanders Sides DF AU Headcanons

Credit to 💫 Anon for contributing some ideas! I just wanna put them all here as reference!

Werewolf Patton 🐺

▪No matter which form he's in, you'll always see him wearing at least brown cargo shorts.

▪As feral as he is, he still has some decency.

▪The gray hoodie he has was actually Thomas', but he gave it to Patton when he first met him, confusing him for a homeless person.

▪In werewolf form, his vision is extremely sharp, although as a human he needs to wear glasses at all times or else everything's blurry.

▪Fortunately his pair is unbreakable (thanks to Logan).

▪As a werewolf he has sandy-brown fur with a cream colored stomach and a bushy tail. His eyes are brown but have some blue in them.

▪He was bitten when he was younger but has no shame in being a werewolf.

▪Makes lots of dog puns.

▪Despite being allergic to cats, he adores them and was even friends with some werecats at one time.

▪Besides silver, the "who's a good boy? You are!" trick is his weakness...and so are head scritches

Kenku Logan 🔮

▪Logan's a unique example of a half human, half kenku. He's not forced to resort to voice mimicry to speak, although he has decided to copy Thomas' voice after years of trying to settle with one.

▪As the raven breed, he has purplish-black hair, feathers on his arms, black claws, and the legs of a raven instead of human ones.

▪His arms can shift into wings if need be.

▪He's fairly knowledgeable in time and space magic.

▪As such, he has runes painted on his arms, neck, and torso that are akin to constellations. They glow depending on how much magic he's using or his emotional state.

▪He refers to levitating spells as "anti-gravity enchantments". The others keep begging him to just call them "levitating".

▪Exhibits big crow-brain energy.

▪As Kenkus are common thieves, he tends to "steal" things left behind in the forest by human travelers.

▪The Crofters' black bear mascot is actually a Werebear Logan befriended. They introduced him to jelly (made from loganberries and pomegranate) and he's had a new favorite food ever since.

Vampire Virgil 🧛‍♂️

▪His attire is canon!Virgil's vampire costume. Only not as new and pristine.

▪He's an old-fashioned guy who's too stubborn to really adapt to the modern times.

▪Has an affinity with various "creatures of the night", including spiders, raccoons, wolves, etc. They just seem to be drawn towards him for some reason

▪Can take the form of a fruit bat, as either a normal one or a werebat.

▪Writes lots of angsty poetry and sonnets in his spare time. He refuses to let anyone see them even though he wishes for some feedback.

▪Sucking blood isn't really his favorite past time. But he only does so if he needs to survive.

▪He prefers to just drains juices from fruits and such. It gives him the same satisfaction.

▪If he and Patton are in their lycan forms, they'll hunt together and play-wrestle sometimes.

▪Virgil worries about hurting him since vampires and werewolves are life-long enemies, but Patton reassures him he's not afraid of him in the slightest.

White Knight Roman 🛡

▪The suit he possess apppears similar to the White Knight's (from a comic). But for Roman, he dons a red cape, his red sash, some gold accents, and his shield logo on the shoulder plates.

▪His soul's color is golden, and it usually floats in the helmet area. So there's always two glowing golden "eyes" in the faceplate' slits.

▪Despite his tragic death, he still has his passion for fairytales, nobel acts, acting, and singing.

▪After being slain by the Dragon Witch, he lost his sword but not his shield, so he owed to slay her once he found his beloved weapon. Until then he keeps his shield with him at all times.

▪Fortunately the suit he found is bright, shiny, and was well taken care of by its previous owner. And he likes to show off at times.

▪He gets freaked out by any reptilian creature, thinking they're related to the Dragon Witch.

▪Clashes a lot with Remus, his "other half", although they can't really kill each other and share a common goal.

▪He can still eat, as he just pours food/drinks down his helmet and lets his soul absorb it.

Naga Deceit 🐍

▪A fierce naga who frequently visits Thomas, although he's a classy gentleman and does not wish to harm him.

▪He has six arms, a rare genetic mutation of reptilian creatures. But he controls all of them with ease and can conceal some of them with his capelet.

▪He likes scaring humans with his many arms, although hearing things like "monster" or "freak show" do hurt him at times.

▪Deceit claims his venomous fangs contain a "truth serum", but nobody knows for sure if he's being honest about that.

▪He has snake scales on both sides of his face, and the lines on his cheekbones are part of his mouth. Just speaking normally is enough to intimidate anyone.

▪Thinks society is a construct and people and "monsters" should be able to live freely without any prejudice towards each other.

Black Knight Remus 🐙

▪The suit he possess is similar to this, although there's green accents instead of gold, and he wears his sash and has animal teeth decorating his armor.

▪It's fairly old and rusty, and so it squeaks whenever Remus walks. But he refuses to find another one.

▪It makes it difficult to sneak up on people so he opts to charge head-on at someone instead.

▪He keeps his morning star mace because a sword doesn't do as much damage as he hopes.

▪Besides that, Remus is basically the same as his canon-self: having an urge to make lewd jokes and make people uncomfortable and use his dark magic to give them illusions/other things to be scared about.

▪Since he's a part of Roman, he only clashes with him in "surprise attacks", just as a playful test. The loser has their helmet knocked off.

▪He teases him a lot for only having a shield to defend himself.

▪Around Logan he'll purposefully move in ways that makes his armor squeak the loudest just to piss him off.

▪The only ones Remus has no qualms with are Virgil and Deceit, although he'll steal the former's sonnets from time to time.

#clanspeaks #sanders sides #dark fantasy au #sanders sides au #headcanons

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storm337 · 5 years

Text

So I wrote some random drabbles in my Sander’s Sides Discord yesterday that spawned a whole new AU! Because I can’t stop, apparently.

Thank you @owletry @jellyfishdoodler @pistachiolan for enabling me

But yeah....here they are. They’re pretty short and disjointed.

Concept for Context: The Sides are all still in Thomas's mind and since Thomas probably developed Morals and Self Preservation first, Patton and Deceit are the oldest. After them Creativity formed as one person and Patton took care of Creativity until Creativity split into Roman and Remus. He tried to take care of both of them, but when Remus started creating 'bad' things, Patton sent him to Deceit. Or if you wanna get extra angsty with it, Patton dumped him in the unconscious to slowly fade away. Patton told Roman that Remus ran off, not expecting to ever see Remus again but Deceit found him calling for his brother in the unconscious, where he'd begun to lose his mind, and pulled him out. Logic showed up next as Thomas got into more serious education, and so Patton took care of him as the youngest until Fear showed up. Fear, later to be Anxiety, was fine until Thomas started having panic attacks, which Patton thought Anxiety was causing, so he handed him off to Deceit. Or also tried to dump Anxiety into the unconscious, but Deceit was waiting for them and took Anxiety from Patton And so now you get the two families- the Light sides of dad Patton, teen Roman, and kid Logan and the Dark sides of dad Deceit, teen Remus, and kid Virgil. Roman and Remus are probably around 12, Logan is about 8, and I’ll put Virgil at 6.

Also Deceit is a naga sometimes because I said so.

Context: Morality visits the Dark Sides for some reason, and Deceit is not happy about it.

Deceit opened his jaws wide, fangs unfolding from the top of his mouth to bare threateningly at Morality. The hiss that rose from his throat was sharp, promising deep pain and lasting damage should the other side dare take another step forward. It was an odd contrast to the protective yet soft way he curled his tail around Anxiety and Creativity, body looped around the others in a cold scaly barricade. Anxiety gripped harshly onto Creativity's sash, small body quivering with terror. Creativity brandished a gleaming morning star in his hands, looking ready to spring from his safe circle to defend Deceit. Not that it was going to come to that. Morality barely dared to breathe, let alone move as the snake towered over him. This was a mistake. This was an awful idea. He should have listened to Creativity - his Creativity. "I'm sorry," Morality whispered, cowering under Deceit's gleaming eyes and dripping fangs. "Lies," Deceit rasped back, body rippling with barely restrained rage. Morality didn't attempt to dispute Deceot's claim. He merely hung his head in shame, biting his bottom lip to keep it from quivering so violently. "Don't ever come back," Deceit snarled, folding his fangs back up and turning to his charges. He pushed Creativity's weapon down, shaking his head slowly at the pout he received. The morning star vanished in a puff of green smoke, and Deceit couldn't help ruffling the teen's hair gratefully for his rare obedience. Sniffling quickly drew the snakes attention and Deceit's shoulders finally fell. "Oh my dear," he breathed, the kindest Morality had ever heard him, as he reached out for Anxiety. The smallest side was pulled into Deceit's arms, held protectively to his chest while he sobbed quietly into the snake's shoulder. "Sssshh," Deceit hissed, tongue flicking out, rocking Anxiety from side to side. "It's okay now, my dear, it's okay." An extra arm appeared, hand outstretched and Creativity latched onto it without second thought. He shot Morality a nasty glare over his shoulder, then a rude gesture for good measure, before Deceit slithered off. "Is he gone?" Anxiety asked sometime later, laying on Deceit's chest, listening to the snake's heartbeat. He held one of Deceit's hands in his own, chubby fingers running across the rarely revealed scales. He couldn't count very high but attempting to do so help him calm down, and Deceit always helped him when he got stuck on the higher numbers. "Yessss," Deceit responded, palm sliding up and down Anxiety's back, human nails scratching lightly. "And he will not come back." "Good riddance!" Creativity called, right before pouncing the end of Deceit's tail, attempting to wrestle it into submission. He had barely gotten his arms around it before it flipped him and rolled him across the ground, coiling around his leg to drag him in circles. Creativity merely squealed, throwing his arms up as he begged Deceit to go faster. "Yeah," Anxiety muttered, pulling Deceits hand under his cheek so he could take a nap. "Good riddance."

Context: Remus descides to ‘borrow’ Virgil’s headphones.

"Remus Creativity Sanders!" Ah crap. "Get down here thisss insssstance before I have to ssssummon you mysssself!" Remus threw himself out of his room, flying down the stairs and swinging from the banister so fast he made himself dizzy. He tripped over Deceit's tail, falling forward only to be caught by gloved hands. One pair was crossed over Deceits chest while the last sat on his hips. "I'm sorry?" Remus tried, giving Deceit the biggest smile he could. "Lies," Deceit snapped back, suddenly dropping Remus onto his coils. "I just wanted to borrow them," Remus pouted, already knowing his attempt to defend himself was in vain. "You can make yourself your own pair." "Yeah but-" Deceit raised an eyebrow and Remus wisely snapped his mouth shut. "Where are they?" Remus summoned the headphones, holding them out to Deceit. Virgil snatched them instead, holding them to his chest protectively while he gave Remus a withering glare. "What do we say?" "I won't do it again." "Truth," Deceit finally grinned, ruffling Remus's hair before letting him climb out of Deceit's coils. "Whatever," Virgil huffed, checking his headphones over.

Context: Remus loves his snad- snake dad.

The tip of Roman's sword pushed into Deceit's neck, cutting the skin and drawing blood. Blood. Remus saw red. The end of the morning star swung, soaring through the air and right into Roman's stomach. The prince punched out a wheeze before he was thrown by the force, sword flying from his hand and clattering to the ground. He barely had time to lift his head, watching his pristine white outfit turn pink before a shadow loomed over him. Remus, eyes pinpricks of radioactive green light, lifting his dripping morning star with both hands, up and up, over his head. Roman raised his arms, a pitiful defense against the steel ready to smite him down. The morning star was pulled suddenly from Remus's hands, another pair sliding around his waist to haul him back from Roman's shuddering form. The Duke snarled, feral and angry, thrashing in the grip until familiar scales brushed his arms. All of his fight died suddenly, Remus's body going limp in Deceit's hold. Roman slowly lowered his hands, peeking out at his murderous brother. Remus found he relished the way the other half of Creativity trembled under his gaze. On how he wanted to paint the wall red with Roman's blood, cave his head in, rip him limb from limb- "Remus," Deceit hissed into his ear, tongue flicking against the Duke's cheek. "Come back to me." "I'm sorry," Remus replied automatically, but they both knew he didn't mean it. Deceit didn't bother to chastise him for it either. He simply released Remus, allowing him to turn and inspect Deceit's neck. Just a nick, a small trickle of blood. "I'm okay," Deceit said, and it tasted like a lie.

Context: Thomas summons Virgil for the first time. His absence was not missed.

Virgil pops back up in the living room to the sound of his name being called. The voices are frantic, terrified, borderline hysteric, and very very familiar. One of them is getting closer. "You're back!" Remus cries, launching himself at Virgil. Virgil isn't ready for it, and they both go toppling over, the Duke crushing his younger brother in a tight desperate hug. Virgil wheezes and pushes weakly against Remus, but that only gets Remus to tighten his grip like the stinky octopus that he is. "Virgil?" Deceit whispers and Virgil has to twist to see the snake in the doorway. His eyes are red, puffy, cheeks wet. Virgil has never seen Deceit cry before. Remus is forced to let go as Deceit strikes, scooping Virgil into his many arms just as he had done when Virgil was merely a child. The hold is not tight but it is restrictive, protective, backed up by the coils of Deceit's tail winding around them in an extra barrier. "Did they hurt you? Are you alright?" "'m fine," Virgil says thought a tight throat, burying his head in Deceit's shoulder. "'m just fine."

Context: @jellyfishdoodler asked for a day at the park.

Remus tugs fruitlessly on Deceit's hand, bouncing in place while his guardian sets down their things. "Play nice," Deceit warns before letting his little gremlin go. He watches Remus sprint to the swing set, and he is grateful for the extra bandaids he brought. It wouldn't be a trip to the park without Remus getting scrapped up. Virgil sits in Deceit's lap and waits for the snake to begin pulling their lunch from the cooler. He's quick to go for a bag of apples, hunkering down against Deceit's chest while he munches contentedly. It is a warm day, typical Florida weather as Thomas knows it, but Deceit likes warm, and he likes the cool breeze Thomas's mind has added to their day out. Little Thomas is somewhere on the other side of the park, playing with his friends. Only they have distinguishable features here- all of the other children are fuzzy shapes, bright colors with no substantial detail. Just figments for Remus and Virgil to play with. Mainly Remus though. Deceit pops a grape into his mouth and watches Remus with lazy eyes. Creativity is a bossy loud little thing, and he's managed to monopolize the swing set for the time being. Deceit doesn't actually expect Remus to play nice, but - well it's the principle of the thing, right? "What would you like to do today, my dear?" "....sandbox?" Deceit nods and Virgil grins around his apple slice. He holds onto one of Deceit's hands, and they watch Remus launch himself from the swing set. He almost sticks the landing, and Deceit winces as Remus trips forward and tumbles to the ground. He pops up a moment later, brushes himself off, and runs for the playground equipment. Virgil sips on a Caprisun, and Deceit thinks he might be able to nap a little bit before Remus back for a bandaid.

Context: @owletry asked for Logan and Virgil storming Area 51. They don’t quite get that far.

"So if we enter from the west side," Logan says, drawing a path in the sand with his 'pointer'. Virgil nods, not completely understanding, but invested all the same in the building schematics Logan has sloppily etched into the sandbox. "We have a better chance of avoiding the guards." "How we gonna get there?" Logan pauses, and it occurs to Virgil that Logan hadn't actually thought about that part. How would they- or more accurately- Thomas get to Nevada? And from Nevada to Area 51? Did they even know where in Nevada Area 51 was? They'd have to pack a lot of sandwiches.... "Uh," Logan mutters, and Virgil watches him put his hand on his chin in his thinking pose. Should he go get Logan his lightbulb cap from Morality? No- bad idea. If Dee caught him with Logic, that would be bad enough, but talking to Morality? He'd be furious! "What aliens are there?" He decides to ask instead, to distract Logan. This isn't the most active game he's ever played, but it's much better than Remus's games. Logic is pretty cool too, not that Virgil would ever say that. "Who knows! There could be all different kinds! They could have many limbs, or eyes- or no limbs and no eyes!" Logan babbles on, and Virgil uses his finger to roughly sketch the different ideas in the sand. His stick figures are getting better. When he gets home he'll have to draw them for Dee. "Those are very good," Logan says, and Virgil ducks to hide his cheeks in the collar of his hoodie. He shrugs- Dee said if someone said his drawing was good he should say thank you, but it was still pretty hard to accept the compliments without being embarrassed. "We could take a plane," Logan suggests suddenly, and Virgil immediately begins shaking his head. "No. Don't like planes. No flying." "It could take days to drive." "Better get going soon."

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the-sunshine-dims · 5 years

Text

Virgil had always liked Logan, and ever since that pain of a confession I mean who knew that Logan was as dense as a brick! anyway-

ever since Logan and Virgil started dating Virgil was less anxious when ever Logan was around, and became very anxious when Logan was excluded from stuff

or just wasn’t there and every time where they were doing a video and Logan didn’t show up Virgil would immediately deck out to find Logan

and sometimes the anxious side would find a Logan asleep at his desk, fallen asleep while working and when this happens Virgil try’s to carry the logical side bridal style to Logan’s bed and tuck him in with a lot of blankets so that Logan is comfortable

and goes back to the others telling them what happened, and if they want to make the video that day Virgil isn’t ganna be in it either because he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to do the video without the logical side,

most of the time they understand sometimes though Roman gets annoyed because he wants to do the video now but Patton convinces him that it would actually be better tomorrow or the next day because they have more time to double check stuff so nothing bad happens with the equipment.

One time when this happened Logan wasn’t 100% asleep and quietly woke up in Virgil’s arms

“Mmmm What's going on?” Logan asked unable to hide the grogginess from his voice

Virgil almost jumped at the sudden noise but the responsibility of holding the very tired Logan grounded him “o-oh! Your awake! I was ganna move you to your bed that way you can sleep comfortably...”

“Oh”

“Do you still want to sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Logan curled into Virgil's warmth

“If you want I can set up a movie and we can watch together?”

“That sounds good”

Virgil sat down the sleepy logical side on the couch in Logan’s room before shuffling through a couple of movies and finally holding up a disk “is the princess bride ok?”

Logan made a small noise of affirmation before Virgil plopped it In the DVD player and went to the kitchen for popcorn and hot cocoa

“What are you doing kiddo?” A voice coming from the living room said, Patton

“Oh umm... well Logan wasn’t fully asleep when I picked him up and I woke him up so now we’re watching the princess bride”

“Okay kiddo! Need any help with the snacks?”

“Nah, thanks pat, but I’m okay it’s only hot coco and popcorn”

After the stuff was done Virgil quickly went back into Logan’s room

“Hey L, I’m back!” Virgil said

“Mmm”

Virgil sat down next to Logan and sat the snacks and beverages down on the table before turning on the movie

Logan curled up on Virgil’s lap as Virgil softly played with Logan’s hair

the movie ended

“Hey L, you still awake?”

There was no answer

“Do you want me leave?

There was no noise but Logan grabbed Virgil’s arm latching onto it like a life line

Virgil chuckled “I’ll take that as a no”

Soon Virgil and Logan both fell dead asleep

When Virgil woke up he Looked at the time

9:37

He sat up and brushed Logan’s bangs out of his eyes

“Hey I have to go for a bit, that alright?” Virgil asked more to find out if Logan was fully asleep then to actually be answered after a minute or two he gently moved Logan over and stood up

Virgil went to the kitchen seeing if Patton was there before making pancakes

When Virgil got back with the pancakes he planted a soft kiss on Logan’s forehead

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!”

“... what?”

“I don’t know. anyway- pancakes!” Virgil chuckled placing the pancakes on the coffee table

“Your the best, thank you V”

“No u, also No problem-Lo”

“Puns noooo my kryptonite”

“Ok no puns! Now You need to eat!”

“No u”

“Ah frick, I’m rubbing off on you”

“And I, You.” Logan said before beginning to eat

Virgil couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend as he ate

After they ate they decided to watch a couple movies and sat cuddling on the couch while wrapped in a big cozy blanket

“Hey Lo”

“Yes?”

“Sleep is important.”

Logan laughed

“Duly noted”

“Also we ran out of popcorn and we’re too comfy to go get more, is there someway to ask Roman or Patton to get us more popcorn?”

“The only way I can think of currently is yelling or throwing something hard at the wall so they hear it, though the yelling option wouldn’t be as good because it might hurt one of our ears”

Virgil laughed maniacally “so you’re saying I get permission to cause destruction!”

“Yes... I’m ganna regret this aren’t I?”

“Not if you tell me what the heaviest book you hate is,”

Logan chuckled

“Probably the second dictionary I have it’s the same words but described worse.”

Virgil smiled maniacally before summoning the book in question

“THIS BITCH USELESS! YEET!” Virgil said right before yeeting the book hard against the wall

“It is not useless, just stupid,” Logan corrected

Virgil began giggling at that before

BAM

The door slammed open to reveal a very concerned and confused Patton

“I-is everybody o-ok?! I heard something slam against something” said Patton voice cracking a bit

“Everything is fine padre! Sorry we worried you, we just finished all the popcorn and didn’t want to get up so we were trying to get someone in here so we could ask them...” Virgil said

“It was either that or yelling, I decided this was a better choice.” Logan said slightly submerging himself in the blanket

“Oh it’s okay kiddos! Now where’s your popcorn bowl?” Patton said smiling brightly at the two curled up on the couch

“Oh it’s uh- it’s on-“ Virgil just gave up trying to tell him where it was and grabbed it and reached out to give Patton the empty popcorn bowl “thanks padre, I owe you one” Virgil continued

“No problem kiddo I’ll be back soon” said Patton as he exited the room

“Ok while he isn’t here what’s the next movie we should watch?” Logan asked slightly coming unsubmerged to look at Virgil

“Hmmmm heathers?” Virgil said looking down at Logan

“that sounds good,”

Virgil added it to the movie queue

Patton knocked on the door “hiii popcorn has been delivered”

Patton handed the two the bowl

“Thanks padre!” Said Virgil

“Thank you Patton, you helped a lot, it’s cold ” Logan said curling into the blanket

Patton, Virgil and Logan said their goodbyes before Patton left

“Hey I had a question,” Logan said

“Shoot!”

“Well you’ve been calling Patton padre and I was wondering why?”

“Ah well I’m not ganna lie... it was just to make Roman very annoyed, and confused if I actually spoke Spanish at first, but... it’s grown on me. So now Patton is forever padre!”

Logan laughed at that explanation

“Ah of course.”

They started the movie

“You totally want to throw tortillas at the window don’t you?” Said Logan halfway into the movie

“...yes... I wanna fight the moon!”

“Your a strange little feral cryptid aren’t you”

“Is that you allowing me to throw tortillas at the window?”

“Sure, no tomato sauce though”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“You had a whole jar of tomato sauce didn’t you.”

“I had to come prepared! What if the moon fought back!”

“I doubt the moon has tortillas, also Your supplying the tortillas.”

“Okay-“

Virgil summoned some tortillas

and threw a few before his arm got cold and he retired to the fluffy blanket once again

“How did you get cold that quickly?” asked logan wrapping his arms around virgil

“Your room is cold, you’re warm so this was the better choice,”

“Ah, of course,”

After a bit of actually watching the movie (I know impossible!)

“I think the heathers movie is almost over” Said Logan

“Hmm we need a long movie so we don’t have to add another one for a while”

“End game? It’s 3 hours and 2 minutes long.”

“That sounds good,”

After about an hour of watching the movie and geeking out about really good CGI Virgil fell asleep

And after a little bit of Logan cleaning up the tortillas he went back to couch and continued watching alone before eventually drifting off as well,

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