#alright team im off to try to put a link to this in my bio wish me luuuuuuuuuuck

[virmillion]

Masterpost

of all of my sanders sides fics (under a cut because there is. Quite A Few More than i thought)

Chaptered

As Above, So Below - AO3 - 35,700 words

Warnings: cursing, blood, knives, fighting, OCD

Ships: platonic moxiety, platonic logince, platonic LAMP

Summary: Roman is a prince and Logan is his advisor-not-quite-friend. Virgil is a street rat runaway and Patton is his friend-not-quite-advisor. Unfortunately for Virgil, staying out of the castle is going to be his biggest struggle.

Arbitrary (choose your own ending) - AO3 - 4,007

Warnings: none

Ships: platonic LAMP

Summary: It’s Patton’s birthday! Who’s ready for a birthday party surprise? ...Guys?

Some Kind of Magical - AO3 - 45,113

Warnings: fighting, fire and burns, blood, deceit as a character

Ships: platonic LAMP

Summary: Senior year can kind of suck. A lot. Toss in some deadly oversized creatures and a final project that literally determines the rest of your life, and some problems are bound to get tangled up in there somewhere. Just keep your head down, finish your project, and everything should be just fine. Right?

I’ll Bring You the Moon - AO3 - 94,659

Warnings: Major character death, cursing, arguments, unhappy ending

Ships: romantic analogical, platonic LAMP

Summary: Logan has had his life planned out since, well, forever. Get through college, get an internship at NASA, rise through the ranks, get into space, something, something, happy ending and he’s set for life. The first couple steps were easy, out of the way in a snap. Meeting Virgil, however, kind of threw a wrench into those plans. But it’s fine. Logan can navigate a job at NASA, flirt with a cute museum tour guide, and deal with everyone’s inexplicable hatred of Neptune at the same time. It shouldn’t be too hard—after all, it’s not like it’s rocket science. ...Well, okay, so it is kind of like rocket science.

Abandoned Chaptered

Can’t Fake What I’ve Never Felt - AO3 - 3,826

Warnings: panic attack, sensory overload, cursing

Ships: platonic royality, background romantic prinxiety

Summary: “AU where everyone is emotionless until they meet their soulmate and upon meeting them they slowly gain one emotion at a time as the soulmate does something that triggers the emotion into existence” - me, oil on canvas in a discord chat, 2018

Kintsugi - AO3 - 3,021

Warnings: fire (a candle)

Ships: none

Summary: Virgil is just about fed up with this fancy little school, so he takes advantage of a quiet night outside. Difficulties ensue.

The Hypothetical Lower Bounds of the Glass - AO3 - 3,946

Warnings: food mention

Ships: platonic (or at least vaguely civil) analogical

Summary: Logan has multiple ways of working through frustrating emotions, on the rare occasion that they do arise. One such method is taking a long drive to an unplanned destination.

One-Shots

Taxi Cab - AO3 - 8,050

Warnings: none

Ships: platonic moxiety

Summary: Virgil needs a ride somewhere, anywhere, so of course, the nearest person with a car obliges

What Was Missing - AO3 - 3,983

Warnings: blood, major character death (kind of)

Ships: none

Summary: Something is missing in the mindscape. You don’t know what. Just... something.

Waves - AO3 - 4,241

Warnings: smoking cigarettes

Ships: platonic moxiety, royality, and logicality

Summary: People outgrow each other all the time. It’s perfectly normal. So why should Patton be so unhappy about it? He’s not technically a person, after all.

Bleeding Out - AO3 - 5,008

Warnings: blood and injury, intrusive thoughts, cursing, unhappy ending

Ships: platonic prinxiety

Summary: Roman takes Virgil on an adventure through the creative corner of the mindscape.

Purple - AO3 - 1,111

Warnings: really abstract writing

Ships: none

Summary: spiritual successor to Bleeding Out

Monster Under the Bed - AO3 - 1,207

Warnings: none

Ships: platonic Roman & Patton & Logan

Summary: When Roman is afraid of something, he goes to Patton, and Patton always knows just what to do.

Exoskeleton - AO3 - 3,850

Warnings: OCD, derealization, fighting (verbal and physical), food mention

Ships: platonic LAMP (mostly)

Summary: an honors zoology-inspired fic about Logan struggling to be A Person.

Lying From You - AO3 - 4,666

Warnings: blood, manipulation, deceit as a character (kind of)

Ships: none

Summary:  As the core of Thomas’ feelings, it had always been Patton’s responsibility to care for his emotional wellbeing. Whether this was done in the healthiest ways remained to be seen, but he was trying, and that’s what was important. Keep Thomas happy as best he could.

Colorful - AO3 - 2,371

Warnings: blood, swearing, character death, unhappy ending

Ships: platonic Virgil & Roman & Patton, romantic analogical, background romantic royality

Summary: you know the au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate? yeah this is that but less happy

Detention - AO3 - 1,800

Warnings: light bullying

Ships: platonic moxiety

Summary: Virgil meets a kid named Patton in detention and decides to investigate further.

Come Back Home - AO3 - 3,540

Warnings: alcohol abuse (written poorly because I didn’t know how to write drunk people)

Ships: past romantic logince

Summary: Logan and Roman broke up and went their separate ways, coping as they could. So why are they both still thinking about the other?

Palindrome - AO3 - 6,006

Warnings: cheating in relationships, break ups

Ships: romantic prinxiety (for a minute), romantic royality (for two minutes), romantic moxiety (for three minutes), platonic analogical

Summary: Palindrome /ˈpalənˌdrōm/, n. - a word, phrase, or sequence that reads the same backward as forward

Just In Case - AO3 - 3,200

Warnings: (conceptual) major character deaths

Ships: none

Summary: A fail safe, for another term. Something to ensure that if the worst situation presented itself, they wouldn't be at a loss for how to function. Maybe Virgil ducking out the first time is what instigated it, but as problems continued to pop up, they came to realize that the absolute worst imaginable thing was well within the realm of possibility.

Bubble Tea - AO3 - 8,175

Warnings: none

Ships: romantic prinxiety, background romantic logicality, platonic royality, background platonic analogical

Summary: alternative title - i've never read nor written a coffee shop au, but here's some nonsense that's basically the same thing with a slightly different menu

And They Were Roommates - AO3 - 1,551

Warnings: some swears, sarcastic first person author

Ships: platonic logince

Summary: unedited nonsense that started out with having a point but eventually devolved into me lamenting my lack of inspiration and turning to spicy memes for comfort

Gone and Never Coming Back - AO3 - 4,453

Warnings: (Mentioned) major character death (it’s a plot point), nightmare describing a car crash, grief

Ships: platonic moxiety (sort of), platonic LAMP (sort of)

Summary: alternative title: patton learns how to cope with loss by being tossed directly into the deep end with three sets of ankle weights

The Sun Is Running Late - AO3 - 3,400

Warnings: death mention, implied suicide, the entire thing centers on the end of the world, first person POV (its roman)

Ships: (past) platonic LAMP

Summary: (to the tune of R.E.M.'s 1987 WENZ promo song that looped for twenty four hours) it's the end of the world as he knows it!

Creative Burnout - AO3 - 1,142

Warnings: major character not-quite-death, negative self talk

Ships: none

Summary: Roman is creativity, and he’s all out of ideas again.

Know Your Mark - AO3 - 2,514

Warnings: blood mention, stabbing, knife mention, negative self talk

Ships: none

Summary: Virgil has a target, so Virgil sets about to take them down. Should be perfectly simple, right? Right?

Of Royalty and Revelry - AO3 - 6,109

Warnings: blood mention, death mention, food mention, cursing

Ships: Romantic (one-sided?) Prinxiety, platonic Moxiety

Summary: Prince Roman fancies a newcomer, who isn’t too quick to speak up about their own opinion on the matter. Life lessons and begrudging companionships ensue.

Staying Up Late - AO3 - 3,292

Warnings: discussion of insomnia, nightmares, vague car crash (it’s a dream), spiraling thoughts

Ships: platonic analogical, maybe romantic if you squint

Summary: Virgil can’t fall asleep. Logan comes over to try to help. Everyone is tired.

Simulated Human Contact - AO3 - 1,195

Warnings: insomnia, medication mention

Ships: platonic analogical (romantic if you squint)

Summary: fluff and projecting onto analogical because i was incredibly tired

Coffee’s for Closers - AO3 - 22,222

Warnings: cursing, rude customers and coworkers

Ships: romantic analogical, romantic royality, platonic LAMP+Remy(Sleep)

Summary: Virgil is a barista. Logan is a barista. Everyone is gay—it’s just that this gayness only occurs at Logan’s cafe.

Love Is a Four Letter Word - AO3 - 12,758

Warnings: implied major character death, Less Than Happy backstories, some bullying, unhappy ending

Ships: platonic logince (more like acquaintances tbh)

Summary: Everyone has magic, and it’s really nothing special at all. Just another skill, sort of like a sixth sense. Roman is not particularly fond of his brand of magic, and sets off to find Thomas—the one person rumored to not have any magic at all.

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 9 OF 22

You will let my tender hook Catch the folded darkness inside you, let me occupy The dented place at the base of your throat. - "One Life", Carlomar Arcangel Daoana

--

She wakes up late.

Comically late.

No hangover, thank god—but it’s 11am and she’s dressed in lent pajamas in a bed that isn’t her own. She shoots up to sitting position in a second, and standing in a minute, trudging out the room to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

By the time she’s up and out of the room, a little more awake, Dazai and Arthur have already long gone, the only remnants of their presence the bit of glitter that they had wiped onto the sofa they nestled in.

And text messages.

She squints when she reads it, not because she had a hard time reading what it said, but—because she couldn’t believe what it said.

A series of text messages from Dazai:

[ 7:23 | Dazai ] ur still asleep but ur friend kinda hot

[ 7:24 | Dazai ] ofc I woke up first but his eyelashes tho???

[ 8:32 | Dazai ] pls tell me he’s not a douche bc im rly gonna jump him

[ 9:03 | Dazai ] mgonna jump him

[ 10:19 | Dazai ] abt to find out if he’s got the magnum sized dong u promised

Oh, god, what has she done.

With a groan, she heads down the hallway, phone securely in the pocket of the sweatpants, to see Vincent and Theo preparing a meal in the kitchen; Theo preparing some sort of fillet (fish? Chicken?) and Vincent frying some onions and garlic on the stove, filling the kitchen with a nice aroma.

“Good morning,” she says softly, as she shuffles onto one of the dining table chairs.

“Thought you died,” Theo says with a snort; but once he turns around to face her, all derision goes away in his face and is replaced by a quiet surprise.

Vincent beams as he turns to get the fillets from Theo. (It’s chicken.) “Good morning. Did you sleep well? No headache?”

She shakes her head. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night and for the clothes.”

“Of course, no problem at all,” Vincent answers, turning back to the pan. The chicken makes a sizzle as it meets the oil.

Theo is still staring at her with an odd look on his face.

“Earth to Theo?” she calls out, waving her hand in front of her. “Something wrong?”

“Broer. Why did you lend her my clothes.”

Oh.

“You know how most my shirts are, paint-stained in all the weird places.”

She feels the cling of the cotton around her skin so differently, so suddenly. Oh.

“She wouldn’t have minded, she was drunk.”

That’s correct, but—

Vincent smiles at Theo, the kind of smile one makes when they can see through someone; she’s filled with a kind of relief at knowing that Vincent can do that to Theo. Maybe the man isn’t an impenetrable a character after all. “No need to be shy, Theo.”

“I am not,” he insists, finally tearing his gaze away from her and heading to the sink to wash the used chopping board and the knife. “I just don’t want her wearing my stuff.”

She smirks. He is shy. True, she didn’t get the opportunity to think about what she was putting on last night because she was so tired and knocked out by the alcohol, but…if that was the price she had to pay to see this side of Theo she doesn’t have the opportunity to witness often, then it was worth it. Oh, the ever put-together Theo, brought to his knees by only one person in the world, the one he trusts the most: his brother.  “Is it because your personality is contagious?” she teases, “wouldn’t want to catch that.”

He answers her with a glare. “Reverse. It’s your stupidity that’s contagious.”

“Oh, we’re pretty much equally as stupid, Theo. No need to worry.”

“We are not,” he says, and then Vincent elbows him carefully.

“You really should be a little gentler to your friends,” Vincent comments, as he turns the fillet onto its other side.

Theo grumbles something unintelligible and it makes her laugh. Sitting in the kitchen, watching the two brothers side by side with their back to her as they prepare—she checks the clock—lunch for the three of them, she hums, content. She’s lived alone for all her life here in the campus, and it was one she looked forward to after living in a house crammed with people for most of her life. But sitting here, watching them share the chores and maybe have a little banter with each other—makes her reconsider that maybe, maybe settling down in even the worst of places isn’t that horrible when you’re in good company.

Theo opens the plate cupboard and hands her a set of it with some cutlery. “Set the table at least, freeloader?” He says, though his voice lacks all the venom his words otherwise had.

Okay, she’ll have to reconsider if Theo counts as “good company.”

--

Theo barely survives lunch with her and his brother because of how much he gets teased by the two. He might argue that this is worse than being stuck with her and Arthur because since it is Vincent, he does not get the leeway to have a comeback, only able to grumble in displeasure at being see-through. They stuff their bellies not only with Vincent’s famed chicken with herbs but also with a hefty amount of laughter.

She slides back (slightly disgusted) into her costume to walk back home in, confident that many other students will be trudging along the streets suffering the same fate. (“Not everyone wakes up as late as you.” “There’s bound to be at least one, right?”) When she comes out of the bathroom, there’s a book on top of his neatly-folded clothes.

They speak at the same time.

“I could wash these first before giving it back if you—” “You had that with you all this time?”

Silence.

She breaks it with a laugh. “Yeah, it was a Saturday. I didn’t want to break the schedule.”

“You get so thorough about the weirdest things,” he comments, but he takes the bundle in her arms anyway. “It’s alright, I’ll have them. Let me get you a book, too.”

She follows Theo into the studio, where he crouches in front of some bookshelves. Vincent peeps from behind his easel. “You should walk her home,” he offers, as Theo pulls a few books out of the shelf.

“No, it’s alright, I’ll be fine! I’m not drunk or dizzy. The walk will help clear my head.”

“It’s twenty minutes out,” Theo points out, getting up.

“Just promise that if you find me asleep on the street you’ll pick me up?”

Handing Murakami’s Dance, Dance, Dance to her, Theo grins. “I can’t promise that.”

“Oh, Theo, you know you will.”

Even when she is long out of his sight, the smile on his face does not go away. Even as the day shifts into mundanity. Even as he’s carting a bagful of clothes to the launderette. Even as he picks up some groceries on the way home. Even as he prepares dinner for Vincent, who is a few hours deep into painting.

Maybe for a moment, it goes away, but—

He thinks of her and the smile comes back full force.

--

She spends the rest of Sunday recovering and hiding away in her room after the very socially draining party, but by Monday she’s hopped onto her bike and headed for the literature club’s little gazebo. She’s left a message for Dazai, asking for company. Sure, they spent quite a lot of time together in the past week, after having jumped through thrift stores and boutiques for the perfect Night Circus costume (and yes, she made him read the book beforehand too, for good measure) but Saturday was quite a day. She’s brought a couple of cookies for sharing with him, sitting at their usual spot, looking out at the quadrangle next to it.

“Toshiko-san! Sorry we kept you waiting!”

The plural takes her off guard, and she turns to find that Dazai has brought a rather distracted-looking Isaac along, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Isaac is always dressed so well—she supposes it’s part of the uniform or something of being seen as a respectable professor—but she sure does want to see him dress down once. T-shirt, shorts, that kind—Isaac seems to take everything too seriously.

The pleasant feeling of seeing a friend she hasn’t met up with in a long time is quickly replaced by confusion, as the science complex is nowhere near the Arts building. “Nice to see you here, Isaac,” she says, but also with the lilt of a question.

Dazai answers said question. “He’s here because he has nothing better to do, so I asked him to come.”

Isaac makes a face that’s both resignation and panic. “He passed by my office.” –and dragged me out because he wouldn’t take no for an answer, she finishes in her head.

“I see,” she answers, even though that’s not really an explanation in itself.

She knows Isaac through Dazai, and Dazai knows Isaac through a very peculiar class: Occultism 101.

A class team-taught by three major colleges in the university—the College of Arts, the College of Science, and the College of Social Sciences—Occultism 101 is one of the more controversial classes on campus because of its nature. It goes through a long history of the evolution and persistence of supernatural beliefs and practices among nations in the world, in that nice gray area between religion and science. There are only two kinds of students in Occultism 101: those who believe and who are genuinely interested, and those who do not believe and would like to spend an entire semester saying “bah! That’s not true!” to themselves all the time.

Occultism 101 is typically taught by professors from the College of Social Sciences and College of Arts with backgrounds in religious practices and other mystical behavior (whether in history or art), and then occasionally, in the middle of the semester, guest lecturers from the College of Science come in to give lectures on how these “supernatural events” may be explainable through scientific means. Say, how the piping system in a building can cause haunted “cold spots”, or how floating dust particles can come up in a photograph as “orbs”, or the likes.

And she doesn’t want to be very stereotypical about it, but a lot of people in the College of Science are pretty… well, square, and so no one really wants to teach Occultism 101, even if it’s only a few meetings in a semester. This is how this job ends up to unwilling, no-choice Ph.D. students such as Isaac.

It was just his luck that Dazai was in the section he taught.

“So, Osamu, care to tell us about your little date last Sunday?” she asks, as the other two have taken their seats across her. Dazai swoons a little at the mention of Sunday. Isaac looks at him with unsureness.

(Isaac has had the miserable experience of being the victim of Dazai’s flirtation at some point in time. One can see how that has instead simmer into a rather tentative friendship. All is well.)

Dazai rests his elbows on the table and places his chin on the palms of his hands. “He’s so dreamy.”

“No he isn’t,” she swiftly replies, without thought.

But Dazai pretends not to have heard it. “He’s not looking for a serious relationship though,” he adds. “Not that I am, either.”

“You aren’t?”

“No, sweetie,” Dazai explains. “But he’s my type and I’m his type and we couldn’t just leave it at that so I have his number now, and a little… arrangement.”

The word hangs in between them, swaying.

Oh no, that’s not any good. “What arrangement.”

“You don’t need to sound so concerned.”

“This is Arthur we’re talking about,” she insists, and the name makes Isaac flinch a little.

“Doyle, the med student?” Isaac asks, and she turns to him, blinking.

“You know him?” Remembering Arthur during the party, her mouth falls into a small o. “He knows you too, doesn’t he?”

Isaac scoffs. “Who in this university doesn’t?” Arthur’s pretty well-known to be a flirt. Something like having a checklist of bedding at least one person in every department—a rumor that would have been a little more shameful if the rumors also didn’t say how he was so good at it.

She nods. “Well, fair enough.”

“No, no, he’s an absolute sweetheart to me, so it’s definitely a you problem,” Dazai insists. “It’s just a friendship with benefits, yanno?” He emphasizes every of the following syllables with his tone and his hands: “Nice, big, hefty benefits.”

And even Isaac, who usually refrains from commenting no matter how much he has to say, has to quip with “Terrible choice, really.”

And she has to agree. “I respect you, but not your taste, Osamu.”

Dazai grins. “Understandable.” He picks up one of the sandwiches she’s prepared. “You make it sound like I’m the only one making bad decisions though.”

“Excuse me?”

He turns to Isaac. “You should have gone to the Halloween party. She brought her little boy toy.”

She scoffs. “He is not my boy toy.”

“You sure do have him around your finger though, getting in matching costumes and all that,” Dazai says. “Spends Saturdates with him all the time.”

The only strategy that will work in times like these is straight-up ignoring him. “Anyway—” she begins, about to steer the conversation away when Isaac speaks up.

“It’s nice to hear you’re getting close to other people,” he says softly. Isaac has a way of speaking that makes it always seem like he’s spent so much time thinking about what he said before he actually said it; so sometimes it’s hard to gauge if he’s saying it casually or entirely seriously.

So she blinks. “You make it seem like I have no friends, Isaac.”

“I-It’s not that!” he suddenly blurts. Ah, there. There’s the usual Isaac. “You’ve spent so much time focusing on your work lately, it’s nice to know you’re relaxing with other people sometimes.”

And he doesn’t say it, but she sure does hear it: the you haven’t been to the astronomy club in a while and it’s made me worried about you.

She doesn’t go religiously, but she used to attend fairly often to hang out with the other members and just look up at the stars. Isaac tries to organize at least two sessions in a month, one to look at the moon, and another to point at the stars. She hasn’t been able to catch them in a bit.

But then, slowly, as the image of the view outside the astronomy club’s hangout is refreshed in her mind, the way the physics building rooftop is just high enough to provide a good view of the rest of the campus below, the city downtown, just at the right place on campus that at night, the rest of the sprawling town’s streetlights trickle out like golden LED veins through the threes—an idea begins to implant itself into her head.

Taking root immediately.

She likes to go up here to think. She really shouldn’t have had permission to go up there on her own, in her free time, since they have rules about club hours and the likes, but Isaac is a close friend and gave her a spare key, so she can come and go as she pleases. And sure, the Grove is a nice, quiet place for book clubs and maybe doing homework if one doesn’t need an electric socket, but up here in the astronomy club’s “the Rooftop”, she feels like she can float away into the vast ocean of her thoughts and get lost in them for a moment.

She feels small up there. And that’s a good feeling.

She won’t tell it to Isaac’s face but it’s one of the primary reasons why she applied for the astronomy club in the first place. The stars are great no matter how dumb she is at physics, but the view—it’s really something else.

What does the world look like from the point of view of a star? How tiny are human lives in the vast expanse of the universe? How long have these stars been out there, how long will they stay out there, how much longer will they stay in this universe more than we will?

…This is why Theo teases her for being a literature major: all these goddamn metaphors.

And for a split second, she thinks…

Maybe it isn’t that bad to share that same quiet space with him?

…You know, to talk books.

“About that…”

Isaac and Dazai turn to her.

“Mind if I sneak in an outsider to the Roof?” she asks, facing Isaac with genuine hope in her voice.

Isaac only shrugs. “Do as you please,” he says casually, taking a cookie from her little box on the table.

And she grins like he’d just given her the light of the world. “Thank you, Isaac.”

Dazai shakes his head, because he knows she’s got no denying herself out of this one the next time.