#but since Janus going over the the dark side

[let-roman-bite-someone]

it's been a while since i made an analysis here but as anyone else in this fandom, i've been speculating on orange. i know that by now, most people are convinced that orange is anger or something related to that.

however, we need to look at the previous patterns in order to figure out who orange might be. “the dark sides” were all facets of c!thomas that he was unwilling to accept or acknowledge. his anxiety, his ability and capacity for deception and probably the most jarring for him, the violent and/or disgusting thoughts that pop into his head without warning.

despite virgil's arc, anxiety was probably the easiest for thomas to accept. virgil didn't even have to introduce himself; thomas already knew he existed and while he was not happy about that, thomas had already accepted by that point that anxiety was a part of him. janus's existence was a harder pill to swallow and remus's was even harder.

so with all this, orange turning out to be anger (or wrath, rage, whatever you want to call it) would be a little underwhelming. while anger is not an emotion that is always encouraged, it's certainly not that hard to accept. especially compared to having repetitive intrusive thoughts about murdering people.

besides, thomas has already acknowledged his own capacity for anger before.

here, he refers to logan and roman having short tempers. they've shown this multiple times in the series too. if logan and roman are prone to anger, then it follows that thomas is also prone to anger and that he is aware of it. and regarding the nonchalant way he addressed it, i doubt he's troubled about his temper at all.

since there were only two short episodes before the introduction of virgil, we don't have enough context as to whether thomas was aware of his anxiety or how accepting he was of it. for janus and remus however, we have several instances of thomas either being in denial or being completely unaware of their existence.

regarding the concept of lying, thomas chose not to lie to people to the best of his ability. regarding intrusive thoughts, while there's no instances of thomas straight-up refusing to feed into them, he was a lot more "clean" before remus came along. he didn't swear as much and when he did, usually censored the swears (probably a conscious decision from thomas & co. but i think it had a canon reason too) and using more technical terms for sexual activities.

anyway, all of this is just a complicated way to get to the point, so i won't bore you any longer. my point is that orange would have to be something bigger, something more terrifying and that thomas would likely be in denial about.

one thing thomas has constantly been shown to fear is losing his friends and loved ones. this has surprisingly been a consistent theme from the early stages of the series.

a lot of the episodes like Making Some Changes, Can Lying Be Good and the SvS duology were centered around thomas's fear of losing his friends. friendship is very important to thomas and different situations in his life often feeds into the fear of being left behind.

now what is a common theme in all the scenes that orange has been hinted at?

the feeling of being ignored or belittled. logan gets mad at roman because roman mocks his attempts at trying to communicate honestly. SvS Redux has thomas feeling irritated and upset that lee and mary lee barely paid attention to him during the wedding. the intrusive thoughts asides video, of course, has both thomas and logan getting angry over being ignored.

so, with all this, i conclude that orange is desperation (n; a state of despair, typically one which results in rash or extreme behaviour). a need for validation, a need for attention and affection. thomas, at this point, is especially disturbed by a lot of things going on in his life. but a recurring theme throughout the show, especially after the introduction of janus and remus, is thomas's fear of driving away his friends. he is overly judgmental of each of his actions, worried that they may lead to him being lonely and left behind.

and again, in WTIT, thomas is also desperate to be noticed by nico. he fears dying alone but at the same time, he struggles to reach out to people. still, he makes the first move by texting nico but the fact that nico doesn't reply makes thomas more and more fearful of ending up alone. he is desperate for love and support, he is desperate for validation; but he needs to focus on himself and fix his own issues, if he wants to maintain a healthy relationship with other people.

like all the other sides, i think that orange is also only trying to help thomas. he's trying to get thomas to come to terms with the fact that nothing is stagnant. most things in life are temporary and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to let go of any worries weighing you down. thomas just needs to face that fact and focus on living in the moment, instead of worrying about what could be. he also needs to have a little trust in himself and know that he's trying his best to be a good person.

and logan is the right person to target for this. because first off, logan himself is suffering from the desperate need for validation, he is visibly struggling to get to thomas. secondly, a sign of deteriorating mental health is when logic becomes clouded due to emotions and this affects a person's basic functioning, such as decision making, problem solving and if gone too far, even everyday activities. the one time logan temporarily left the group, we saw how much of a chaos the others were. i believe orange thinks that this is the only way to make thomas understand how dire the situation is.

so yeah, that's just my take on this whole orange deal. i could be completely wrong but it's still fun analyzing these things.

[i-read-by-lamp]

I’d just like to once again pose the concept that Anger fucks with Logan specifically because anger blinds logic which is why his eyes glow when he gets mad at Remus after being ignored by Thomas all day. Idk if I believe that Logan Is Anger^tm but I could see a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation since generally when you’re angry logic goes Out The Window.

Tbh though I really hope they’re separate entities because we haven’t seen a different side have such total control over Logan the way Janus and Remus could control the others. Logan isn’t really affected by Janus outside of the hand over the mouth, and he isn’t afraid of Remus. Do you know how fun it would be to have a completely new side just be able to nerf Logan and make him lose his common sense? And it’s not a “oh his dark persona that shares his body” situation?

Like imagine a side that shows up and just completely knee caps Logan. Logan can’t see it but there’s a side behind him feeding into his frustrations, a whisper in his ear when the others try to confront him about it. Because the second logic loses its grip in conflict it opens the door for anger to take the wheel. Anger possesses you and overwhelms you. Maybe Logan is just particularly vulnerable to the manipulation right now because of his repressed emotions.

I just can’t see this going any other way except it all blows up and logic is no longer in the building all we have is A Very Angry Side being boosted in his anger by a side he can’t even *see*.

Even better is if everyone else can see Anger but Logan is just Mad^tm and can’t see anything.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Gross

Fic Idea (no pressure obviously) Thomas struggling with his self image and ego, and in response Roman ends shapeshifting all the time, fluctuating between the masculine beauty standard (lean, muscular, hairless) and what society considers “ugly” (pudgy, hairy). And based on how he looks, Roman will interact with the others or hide away – anon

hihi!! had this random idea for a sanders sides fic- something along the lines of- a while after Remus and Roman split, Remus comes back (when the dark sides start to get more involved) and confesses that he hoped Roman was doing better after he joined the light sides? that all he wanted was for his brother to be happy, away from the darkness for once? angst sadness ykyk :)) – can-you-hear-me-axhilles

hi, so I just read your wings series and I was wondering if we could have something with Remus and his tentacles? Like maybe him thinking they are ugly or something, I’m not really sure. Maybe Roman has animal characteristics too and they’re “prettier” or “better” so he gets insecure? Mainly focused on these two but I don’t mind if it’s all of them together. No pressure to write this tho! – anon

I’ve been reading your Sanders Sides stuff for the longest time and I was wondering if I could get some Roman angst with a side of creativitwins? – meandmacats

Read on Ao3

Warnings: non-consensual body modification, self-esteem issues, self-hatred

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5481

Or, five times Remus helped Roman out when Thomas's self-esteem issues change his nature, and one time Roman helps Remus.

 

”Remus?”

Remus looks up from his knitting to see Patton standing over him. “What’s good, Pat-Pat?”

“I’m, what’re you doing?”

“Oh, I’m knitting this patchwork sweater out of hair.”

“Oh…how cool.” Patton gives himself a shake. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’ve seen Roman? He was supposed to come down for lunch but he never showed.”

“Like, at all, at all?”

“Yeah. Neither hair nor hide! Or—well, I guess he did do the hide since he’s hiding from us, and you’re the hair!”

“Ah, Pat-Pat, never stop with the dad jokes. You’ll make all of us go into pun-withdrawal.” Remus carefully sets aside the needles and bounces to his feet. “I’ll go look for him, see if he needs to be pried out of the dragon’s gullet again.”

“Oh, thanks so much, Remus, I really—wait, ‘again?’”

“Gotta blast!”

Honestly, it’s not like Roro is known for missing deadlines, that’s Remus’s thing. Especially when it comes to things like meals and remembering to eat—well, Ro’s not exactly the pinnacle of healthy practices when he get absorbed in his work, but he’s better at it than some people give him credit for. Which means he’s either deep in the middle of something he’s keeping to himself, he’s asleep because the time zones in the Imagination are all kinds of wackadoo, or he really does need to be rescued.

Which isn’t Remus’s thing, come on, Ro, you’re ruining his reputation.

By the time he gets to the Imagination, he’s already pulling out his acid-proof gloves and sharpening his Morningstar. He stops dead, however, when he sees the doors are still locked from last night. That’s weird. Maybe Ro just used his personal gate instead of the main one? But that just takes him right to his little workshop area, that’s not anywhere near where the dragons are…

He’s about to go for his gateway when he hears a quiet noise coming from Roman’s door. Frowning, he turns. Roman’s door is only a few feet away. He glances up and down the hall to make sure none of the resident sneaks are nearby—Janus and Virgil—and knocks on the door.

“Uh, busy!”

“Ro, it’s me.”

“Oh. Did you, um, did you need something?”

“You weren’t at lunch. Pat-Pat’s getting worried.”

He hears a muffled curse and the door glimmers slightly. That’s Roman’s cue that he can sink in. He stows the acid gloves and the Morningstar and sinks in, expecting Roman at his desk or on the floor puzzling over some bit of a story he can’t quite get right, but instead he sees an empty room.

“Where are you?”

“Bathroom.”

Remus pops his head through the door and blinks. “Whoa.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Roman mumbles, already reaching for the bandages curled up on the counter, “you don’t have to say it.”

”That looks—“

“I said you don’t have to say it.”

Remus slams his mouth shut, but he can’t stop staring at the acne. Throbbing red pimples that look like they’re causing Roman pain every time he so much as breathes, bigger whiteheads that have already started to ooze, blackheads that litter every inch of skin that isn’t already covered, some of which look like they’re almost on top of each other…

Roman turns his back on him and hunches his shoulders. “What do you want, Re?”

“I, uh…well, now I want to help.”

Roman laughs. It’s not funny. “There isn’t any helping this. Not until Thomas feels better.”

“Whoa. Back up. What?”

“This.” He waves a hand at his face. “This is a thing, remember?”

“Oh. Oh, right, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Can I help make it less painful while it’s going on?”

There’s a pause. Then Roman’s head turns slightly. “Would you?”

“Shit, yeah,. Roro. You’ve helped me with stuff more times than I can count on my fingers and toes, let me help you.” He gets a small huff that might be an actual that-was-kind-of-funny-I’m-feeling-better laugh. “Yeah?”

“…yeah, okay.”

“Wonder-bats! Okay, I think I still have that stuff from when we had those sores from the poison experiments…where did I put that?”

“Did you leave it in your room or my room?”

”We cleaned up here, so it should be…aha!” He takes a big plastic case from under the sink. “Go sit your perky butt on the edge of the tub, I’ll be right there.”

“…thanks, Remus.”

“What’re brothers for?”

2.

The very first time it had happened, it had been well before Thomas had learned what it was to be attractive.

Remus had found Roman crying in his room, curled up under all the blankets he could find with tissues covering the floor.

“Ro-bro? What happened? Do I need to fight someone for you?”

“It won’t come off!”

“What won’t come off?”

Roman had peered out from under the blanket cocoon and Remus’s mouth had dropped open when he saw the words FREAK and LOSER written all across Roman’s face in permanent marker.

“Who did that? Was it Virgil? I’ll fight him!”

“No,” Roman had sniffled, “it wasn’t—wasn’t Virgil. It wasn’t any of them.”

“Did you do it? That’s more my kinda thing, isn’t it?”

“No!” Roman had wailed. “I didn’t do it! Someone—someone hurt Thomas!”

“Someone hurt Thomas? But nothing happened! We didn’t get into any fights!”

“Not like that! They were just mean. They were really mean and they said he looked ugly and they called him a f-freak and a loser and—and—“

Remus had scurried forward and wrapped his brother in a hug as he broke down in tears. “You’re not a freak or a loser, Roro. Neither is Thomas. They were wrong, you know that, right?”

”Then why won’t it come off?”

Sure enough, up close, Remus had seen the red and raw skin where Roman had scrubbed it with whatever he could find to make the words go away. Bits were even coming off on the blanket as Roman rubbed his cheek against it.

”Hey, hey, stop that. You’re hurting yourself.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care! I don’t like seeing my brother hurt!” Remus had given him a shake. “You don’t have to hurt yourself more on top of this, okay? Come on, come into the bathroom, I’ll help you.”

“Y-you will?”

“Yeah, Roro, come on.”

The twins had gone to the bathroom where towels and washcloths were still strewn around from Roman’s previous attempts. Remus had made Roman sit on the stool and reached for the soap, getting one of the washcloth more suds than cloth and trying to wipe off the words.

“That tastes so bad.”

“So keep your mouth shut.”

“But you keep wiping it over my mouth!”

“No, I’m wiping it over your cheek, which is next to your mouth. And you talking isn’t making it any better, so shush.”

Roman had grumbled silently until Remus accidentally went too roughly over one of the sore spots and Roman yelped.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,. I didn’t mean to.”

“Wash it off! Wash it off!”

“Okay, okay! Come here!”

They had stumbled over to the sink and Remus practically shoved Roman’s head under the tap. He had spluttered and flailed out, splashing Remus.

”Hey! Don’t splash me!”

“I’ll splash you all I want!”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yeah, I will!”

It had…devolved from there.

The bathroom had been sopping wet by the end of it, not a towel nor tile had been spared from the twin’s water war. Their clothes were just as soaked, their hair dripping like they’d just walked through a hurricane. The sink and the bathtub still ran as if nothing were wrong and the detachable shower head in Remus’s hand sprayed as merrily as ever.

”Whoa, hey!”

“What?”

“It’s gone!”

Roman had run to the mirror, touching his face. Sure enough, the words had vanished.

”It is gone!”

”You’re welcome,” and he had taken a big bow with the shower head still spraying everywhere, “I think that means I win.”

“Whoa, wait, no, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.”

”No!”

“Yes!”

It took a while longer for the war to end and even longer for the bathroom to dry.

3.

Someone says Thomas eats too much junk food and Roman can’t stop dripping oil.

Remus finds him sitting on his bathroom floor, the drain in the shower covered with a towel. He’s sitting on towels too, towels soaked and heavy with oil as Roman’s tears fight to get out from his eyes and through the slick covering his skin.

“The others are worried,” he says quietly, lingering in the doorway, “they want to know what’s wrong.”

Roman doesn’t say anything. Remus peers a little closer and sees the telltale sheen over his mouth too. Even just thinking about how it must feel to have that much oil on his lips makes Remus shudder. He summons a washcloth from his own stash and a bottle of soap.

“Just like old times,” he says as he crouches down in front of him, “I’m gonna wash off the oil on your face, okay?”

Roman manages a small nod and Remus gets to work. Normally when he’s washing oil off stuff, he scrubs at it like he’s trying to grind it with sandpaper and the soap foams up around his wrist. But this is Roman, not some metal piece of equipment, so he goes as gently as he can without suffocating him with soap or making no progress at all. He has to stop a few times when Roman lets out a pained noise or winces at the rasp of the cloth, just holding a blotting sheet there to soak up the oil as best he can while he waits for him to settle. He makes a note to work on the heavy duty blotters in case something like this ever happens again.

At last, when Roman looks like he’s about to cry for a very different reason, the space around his lips and nose is clear enough for him to gasp out a few words.

“Sorry, thank you, sorry—“

”Shh-shh, Roro, you don’t need to apologize. Just tell me what you need.”

”’S so gross.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

Roman lets out a frustrated whine and Remus quickly pulls out his phone.

“If you tell me what Thomas needs to stop thinking about I can get Lolo on it.”

“No, then he’ll—“

“I’m not gonna tell him what’s wrong with you, okay? I’m just gonna prod them into getting Thomathy’s brain on the right track away from whatever-the-fuck-this-is-station.”

More oil starts to build up and he shoves his phone in his pocket, working on washing it away again. His presence seems to have calmed Roman down a bit; the oil comes in smaller waves this time, concentrated more around the naturally oily parts of his face rather than every inch of his skin. When he’s cleaned off the areas around his nose and mouth, he goes and starts moving to the rest of his head.

“Junk food,” Roman mumbles, as if saying it too loud would make the oil return with a vengeance, “saying bad stuff ‘bout Thomas…unhealthy…gross…”

Remus whips out his phone and sends a text to Logan about food not having a moral weight and how eating something was always better than eating nothing. He gets a text back a few seconds later that just says on it.

“Lolo cavalry is assembled, he’s going.” He tucks the phone away and keeps washing Roman off. “And I’m gonna stay right here until we get all this oil off you, okay? We can even do your thirteen-step skin care routine once it’s gone.”

“It’s not thirteen steps.”

“Whatever you wanna tell me, Roro, at least you’re not as bad as Snakey.”

It’s the first time Roman manages to laugh that day, and Remus makes sure it isn’t the last.

4.

When Patton and Logan have near simultaneous nervous breakdowns after someone calls Thomas lazy, Remus makes sure Virgil’s wrapped around the Mindscape’s padre and Janus has Logan in his little snake den before he goes off in search of Roman.

The Imagination door is covered in cobwebs that retreat as he approaches, a few spiders waving hello as they disappear. He runs his hand over the keyhole, checking to see if it’s just an affectation, or if Roman really hasn’t been using it. He knows he has, is the thing; Roman’s had more projects on the go this month than he’s ever had before and if it weren’t for Janus and Logan dragging him out of it to make sure he didn’t completely lose touch with the Mindscape, he bets his left barnacle that Roman would’ve been living there too just so he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to keep working. And sure enough, the keyhole glows red as soon as his fingers brush it and he carefully pushes the door open.

He walks into the most statistically average middle class sitcom home he’s ever seen. Needless to say, he hates it.

”Ro? Are you here?”

There’s a faint noise coming from what he guesses is the direction of the living room and listen, as little time as he has to spend in this painfully mediocre place, the better. Seriously, he can feel the whispers of white picket fences and PTA meetings lingering ominously over his shoulder with every second he walks through these beige walls. Snatches of TV dialogue becomes audible as he makes his way through the house.

He comes to a stop.

He tilts his head.

There’s certainly a person in the living room, but it doesn’t really look like Roman. They look like every Sunday cartoon about a husband and wife where it’s terribly misogynistic and heteronormative, recliner out, bag of chips in lap, staring vacantly at the TV. It’s only the fact that they’re crying at the paid advertising programs and that Remus would recognize his brother anywhere that he knows it’s Roman.

He sits down on the plastic covered couch and tries not to look at the soulless photos of smiling families perched on the dusty mantle. Roman doesn’t look away from the screen but the hand nearest Remus twitches slightly.

“Hey,” he calls, and Roman’s head turns a little, “hey, Roro. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

The TV blares something about a crockpot that cooks fancier meals than a normal crock pot.

“I know how shitty it is when people accuse you of being lazy. Especially when they’re just complaining that they haven’t seen anything from you.” He shuffles and the couch squeaks. “And we all know how hard you’re working. How hard Thomas is working.”

Roman’s eyes flick to his. Remus smiles and takes his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“Giving yourself a break isn’t being lazy. Having a hard time doing things isn’t lazy. Not being able to work on something because it’s just covered in the fucking ooze isn’t being lazy. You aren’t being lazy, okay? You wouldn’t even be lazy if you decided you didn’t want to work on any projects for the next year.”

The TV glitches out. Static fills the room and it actually feels like Remus can breathe. He squeezes Roman’s hand again and shifts closer. Roman stares at him with wide eyes.

”I mean it, Roro. You’re not—I know we’ve gone over this and I’ll keep giving you crowbars for as long as you need them—“

The smallest smile appears on Roman’s face.

“—but you’re not—your worth isn’t in what products or content you can make. You know i love you because you’re my brother, because you’re funny and clever and ridiculous and there’s no one I’d rather make stuff with. You could decide that you don’t want anything to do with Thomas’s career anymore—“

Roman makes a devastated noise.

“Calm down, calm down, I know that’s not true, I’m just spouting a wild hypothetical, okay? If you decided to do that and I made sure it was really you and you hadn’t lost some sort of bet, then yeah, I’d still want you to be my brother. We’d still do stuff. I don’t give a shit what everyone else thinks.”

”…promise?”

Remus could sob with relief at actually hearing Roman’s voice come out, and he grins so wide his cheeks start to hurt. “I promise, Roro, I promise. You’re not lazy, you’re resting, and even if you were, I wouldn’t care.”

‘’M not trying to be lazy. It’s—I’m just—“

“Shh, shh, Roro, it’s okay,” The bag of chips falls to the ground and catches fire as Remus tugs his brother into his arms. “I’m right here. You’re doing so good, okay? Thomas is too.”

Remus doesn’t burn the house down because he’s had too many lectures from Janus about that, but he does get a big cartoon wrecking ball to smash the whole thing into smithereens.

He does burn the recliner though. And the plastic-covered couch. They deserved it.

5.

The latex gloves snap on as Roman sits on the edge of the tub with a grunt. He picks up the rest of the kit and sets it on the stool.

”Do you know what it’s about this time?”

“Someone said something about how immature Thomas is being about criticism and how he can’t take care of things, something like that.”

“Why did it manifest as acne, then?”

”I don’t know, maybe something about how teenagers who are hormonal and don’t really know how to take care of their skin get acne?”

Remus snorts. “Do people still not understand that acne happens and can happen to anyone regardless of age?”

‘Apparently not.”

“Well, they can go lick the Kraken’s crack.”

“Ew, Remus.”

“Just trying to keep the mood light.” He picks up one of the cotton swabs and a paper towel and leans down. “I’m gonna try and clean up some of the wet stuff first, okay? Then we can actually get onto some relief.”

“You’re not gonna pop any of them, are you?”

“I don’t think so. At least not right now.”

”Because I really don’t want this to scar.”

Remus hums, carefully running the swab over a particularly inflamed part of his cheek. “Can you give me a pain rating?”

”Like a 6? It’s not that bad but it’s not a pain I’m used to it’s…freaking me out.”

“Understandable, have a nice day. If it ever gets too much, let me know and we’ll switch to a cool pack, okay?”

Roman hums as Remus goes to work. A pile of discarded swabs and other trash accumulates at Remus’s elbow as he works patiently around the various, uh, ‘zones.’ They have to stop a few times when it gets to a point where Roman’s whole face just aches, waiting for it to subside enough that Remus can keep going.

“There are a couple down here that look like they’re ready to go, do you want me to just get ‘em out?”

”Be careful.”

“Sure, yeah. If it starts to hurt lemme know and I’ll back off right away.”

He gets a few of them, a few more putting up too much of a fight so he leaves them be. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman heroically stop two or three whimpers before he lightly jabs him in the stomach and tells him to knock that posturing shit off, he doesn’t need it here.

“…thanks, Re.”

“I told you, it hurts too much, I stop.”

“I know.” He shifts on the tub. “I think it’s just…hard to remember.”

Remus frowns, glancing up at him. Roman fiddles with the hem of his prince costume.

“You know…with the others?”

”No. I don’t know, Ro.”

“They don’t—they’re—they want Princey, Prince Roman. Not…the rest of this.” He waves his hand to indicate the cotton carnage. “So it’s hard to…”

He trails off when he sees the expression on Remus’s face.

“What?”

”You mean they don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That this—“ he waves at Roman— “happens to you. Any of it.”

“I mean, they know I’m the Ego and it makes sense that I get hurt when Thomas feels bad, but—“

”But not how much.” Roman won’t meet his gaze. “Fuck, Ro.”

“…it’s complicated.”

“Shit, no, I’m not—look at me, Ro. I’m not mad at you. I’m just—this wasn’t what I’d hoped.”

Roman frowns. “What do you mean, what you hoped?”

Remus sighs. This is turning into way more of a conversation than he’d ever anticipated. Glancing around, he picks up the cold pack and hands to to Roman before taking a seat on the counter. His legs swing and kick at the cabinets with a quiet thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk.

“When the Split happened, and we went to the Dark Sides, I…dunno, I guess I thought it would be…better.”

“Because we were separated?”

“What? No, no, because I had the stuff like Deceit and Anxiety with me, so they couldn’t make any of this stuff worse—not that they would,” he says when Roman opens his mouth to protest, and wow, have they come a long way, “but just ‘cause…well, yeah. You had Logic and Morality, who were—doesn’t that make sense? That they would be able to help?”

Roman sighs. He picks at the edge of the ice pack. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Logan’s thing is object impermanence, you know that.” Remus winces in sympathy. “But having someone tell you something isn’t real when you can feel it and it is real, to you, that’s not…that’s not helpful. It’s better if he just goes right to Thomas than coming to me.”

“And Patton?”

Roman lets out a humorless huff. “Thomas is feeling bad and Patton is Thomas’s feelings. How do you think that normally goes?”

…yeah, probably not great.

“It’s not all bad,” he continues, softer now, “they’re at least good when I tell them I don’t want to be disturbed. They don’t ask questions if I tell them I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That feels suspiciously like the bare minimum.” Roman shrugs. “I know I literally just said the opposite, but do Janus and Virgil…?”

“They’re both better at comforting the others. It’s okay, Re, I have you. I really only want you when it’s…bad like this.”

“Me? Why?”

“You get it.”

Remus chuckles, getting back up and picking up the next tool. “That simple, huh?”

“Sometimes it’s just that simple.”

”Aw, I love you too, Roro. You’re the specialist baby brother any Side could ever ask for.”

“You—what the hell do you mean, ‘baby brother?’”

“You’re the baby brother.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Now hush so I don’t accidentally poke your eye out.”

“I’m gonna get you back for this.”

“Oh, I’m so scared about that. Now hold still, Roro, let’s get this out of the way so you can feel better.”

“…love you.”

“I love you too.”

+1.

The Imagination is upset. Roman feels it the second he steps foot through the door and forgoes his normal prince costume for a rougher tunic and boots, strapping his sword to his hip and an emergency pack to his back. The wind blows frigid and punishing over the grass as he starts down the trail, squinting through the dust clouds whipping up around him. The clouds frown around the edges of the tree line, darkening to a stormy black near the edge of the coast. As he nears the black cliffs, rocks crumble beneath him and tumble into a churning sea.

He edges carefully around the craggy rock face, keeping his movements light and careful. Spray whips him in the face as thunder rolls in the distance. The chill near rips his fingers from their precarious handholds. He grits his teeth and keeps going, even as the wind howl so loudly his ears near split from the pain.

There, a little ways down the cliff, is a small cove. He inches his way around the edge of the bluff and drops onto a larger path leading him along the coast. There isn’t any sand here, only rough and unyielding stone. Froth and foam given them gleaming white teeth as the waves churn furiously around the mouth of the sea. He follows the path down, down towards he massive cracks in the sheer rock face, one eye on the black water below him. Despite being so close to the shore, there’s no sign of a bottom and he doesn’t want to risk how deep it is. There’s no telling what current might rip him into the open ocean if he falls in.

The cove is shaped like a spear’s point, the crack in the cliff at its very point as though some massive weapon had shattered the rocks themselves. As Roman nears it, the shadow at the base of the path slowly grows more and more defined, until he realizes that it’s a path through the cliff. The cove is an inlet leading into a hidden sea cave with a vast black lake in its center. Roman peers up at the glistening wet walls, hand on the wall as the wind whistles angrily by.

The water moves. He looks down. Something massive slips just underneath the surface, sending ripples to the shore. He crouches down and sees a huge shape getting closer and closer to the surface. An eye the size of a dining table glares up at him through the water and long arms with rows and rows of hooks reach up toward him.

“Ollie, it’s me. It’s Roman.”

The Kraken pause. The hooked arms retreat and he pokes his head up, letting out a mournful burble. Roman reaches over and taps the water. One of his other arms comes up and Roman pets soothingly along the skin.

“What’s the matter, buddy? What’s going on?”

Ollie burbles again and Roman suddenly realizes why the hooked arms were the ones to reach for him. Beneath the surface, the Kraken’s arms form a cradle of sorts, holding something close to the Kraken’s massive body. As the water shifts and ripples, the thing comes closer and closer to surface, slowly moving to reveal its precious cargo.

And there, nestled in the Kraken’s grip, covered in his own writhing tentacles, is Remus.

“Oh, Re,” Roman murmurs as his brother twitches and whimpers, “what happened? Who did this?”

Ollie burbles again, holding him out, and Roman balances on the edge of the shoreline and stretches to hold on. The Kraken lifts him up and into the cradle too, letting him touch Remus’s frigid skin and shake him awake.

“Re? Re, wake up, it’s okay, I’m here to help.”

The tentacles writhe as Remus stirs, blinking through a pained haze up at Roman. “…Ro?”

“Hey, Re, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. What happened?”

“Thoughts got too loud.” A tentacle leaves a thick trail of slime across his arm and he shudders. “Sorry.”

“What could you have to be sorry for?”

“‘S gross.”

“You stop that,” Roman chides gently, running his fingers through Remus’s wet hair, “I don’t care if something’s gross, I care if it’s hurting you.”

Remus whimpers, clutching at one of Ollie’s arms. The Kraken squeaks back, trying in vain to warm him up, but there’s only so much he can do in this freezing cave. Roman glances around and bites his lip.

“Does it feel better in the water? Is that why you came down here?”

“Yeah. Ollie came and f-found me.”

Roman pats the worried Kraken. “What do we need to do? Is it like caring for Ollie’s arms?”

“N-no. Like helping the jelly—jellyfish with the twisted—twisted ones.”

He’ll bet just about anything that this frigid water isn’t helping Remus do that, and it’s not like Ollie has opposable thumbs. He goes to slide into the water himself but Ollie chirps in alarm, hoisting them higher.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying to help.“

Remus shakes his head, more slime trailing across his shivering body. “Too cold for you.”

“Well, then it’s definitely too cold for you. Can we get you somewhere warmer?” Remus curls up a little more. “What about that pool near the glowstone trees?”

“That’s all the way on your side.”

“Ollie can take you. I’ll meet you over there.” Remus stays quiet. Roman leans down and brushes the wet hair from his eyes. “What else is bothering you, Re?”

Two of the tentacles glob onto Roman and start leaving trails of slime across his tunic. Remus whimpers and reaches out a hand to yank them away. It’s no use; the roiling mass just keeps smearing slime onto Roman as they try to pull him closer, no matter how hard Remus shoves them away.

Oh.

Oh.

“Re, you’re not too gross. You’re not going to ruin anything. I want you to come with me so I can help you. I care about you. Let me help, please?”

It takes a painfully long moment for Remus to peek up at him and nod. Roman can’t stop the way his shoulders sag in relief and he sits up, patting Ollie’s arm as the Kraken burbles happily.

“You…you really wanna help?”

“Of course I wanna help you, Re, you’re my brother.”

“Okay.”

“Have Ollie take you over to the pool, okay? I’ll meet you there.”

“How are you gonna get there?”

“I have my ways.”

Remus grumbles and he sounds just enough like his normal self that Roman has to reach down and ruffle his hair, no matter how much Remus squawks about it. He climbs back off to the shore and watches Ollie sinks below the surface before he makes his way out to the ocean proper. Taking the charm from beneath his tunic, he closes his eyes and concentrates.

A screaming cry and the massive thudding of wings splits the wind.

Roman’s dragon lands just on the other side of the bluffs and he climbs on, taking off and soaring over the stormy sea. The dragon calls out over the waves and far beneath, he can see the shape of Ollie swimming through the depths. The clouds begin to part as they near the opposite coast, sun rays splitting the worst of the storm as the glowing trees appear on the horizon.

Roman’s dragon sets him down just on the edge of the shimmering pool. He pats its snout and it huffs, lying down on the sun-warmed grass and closing its eyes. As he walks toward the pool and begins to take off his boots, he spots Ollie’s shade moving through the inlet into the warmer water. He chuckles at the way the water vibrates with the Kraken’s pleased rumble.

Clad in just his boxers, he slips into the water and through the tangle of arms to draw Remus into the warmth. Remus immediately tuns and clings to him like a limpet, shivering from the temperature change.

“I know, I know,” Roman murmurs as he starts to work his hands patiently through the mass of tentacles, “just hold onto me. I can still kind of stand here, I’ve got you.”

”You gonna take care of me?”

“Yeah, Re, I’m gonna take care of you.”

He’s rewarded with a sleepy hum and Remus snuggles into him. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best. The best baby brother anyone could ever ask for.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Remus might mutter an am not back, but it’s muffled by his tired slump into Roman’s arms. Roman just chuckles. He’s sure it’ll come up again at some point.

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

[monkeythefander]

Dukeceit Headcannons 💚💛

I wanted to participate in Dukeceit Week 2024 somehow, so since I don’t have time to draw anything I thought I’d write some headcannons based off of the 7 prompts for the ship week.

@dukeceit-week-2024 @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper

The prompts were the following:

April 6th- Sunflowers/Ocean

April 7th- Road trip/Roadkill

April 8th- Cats/Rats

April 9th- Teeth/Hair

April 10th- Cowboys/bootleggers

April 11th- Bodyswap/Sharing clothes

April 12th- Coffee shop/Dive bar

April 13th- Antiquing/Free day

Content warnings: mention of roadkill (dead animals), mention of having funerals for said roadkill, mention of hair clips that look like teeth, brief mention of battles, mention of a dive bar and drinking alcohol. Let me know if I missed anything else.

Click below the cut the read the headcannons.

——————————————————————

- For their first date, Remus and Janus decided to go out for dinner by the beach in the imagination. Remus wanted to give Janus some flowers, so he picked a bouquet a sunflowers. Of course, Remus ended up picking sunflowers were dead because they were from his side of the imagination. The creative side was a bit worried that his date wouldn’t like the flowers since they were dead, but Janus smiled when Remus gave him the flowers and said the bouquet was lovely. The couple then had their dinner, and afterwards walked on the beach. Remus convinced Janus to take off his shoes and stand in the shallow part of the ocean with him. Remus playfully kicked some water at Janus and the two end up chasing each other around and splashing each other. Overall, it was a good first date.

- Remus and Janus like to take road trips through Roman’s side of the imagination once a month. The two drive around in a car and occasionally stop to cause chaos. On their trips they’ll sometimes stumble across some roadkill. In these situations, Remus will have Janus pause their journey for a moment in order to have funerals for the roadkill.

- For Halloween, Janus and Remus always wear matching/couple’s costumes. Their first Halloween together, they dressed as a rat and a cat. Remus was the rat because like rats, he likes to dig through garbage. Janus was the cat because like a cat, he sometimes makes a purring noise when Remus cuddles him, because Remus feels very warm and the cold-blooded deceitful side finds the body heat very calming. Janus was embarrassed when he purred for the first time, but Remus just smiled and said he found the sound adorable.

- Remus’s hair would often get in his face since it’s somewhat long. He found having hair blocking his eyes to be annoying, but couldn’t find any clips or hair styles he liked to fix it. Janus noticed Remus’s hair style struggles, so he asked Roman to help him design hair clips for Remus. Once the design was planned out and made, the deceitful side gave Remus hair clips that looked like teeth. Remus loved the clips and would wear them often.

- For the second Halloween Janus and Remus celebrated together, they dressed up as Woody and Bo Peep from Toy Story. Remus wanted to reuse the cowboy costume and Janus already has a shepard’s crook, so the costume choice was easy.

- Remus likes to borrow Janus’ hat and capelet. The dark creativity says it makes him feel more powerful and like a fairytale villain when he battles with Roman.

- Remus made a dive bar in his side of the imagination for him and Janus to go to. The two frequently go there to drink and slowdance. Janus uses these outings as an excuse to wear the fancy dresses he owns.

- There is an antique shop in the Light Side of the imagination. Janus likes to go over there occasionally to look for decorations for his room. He’s found a few nice paintings of snakes when shopping there. After they started dating and it got closer to Remus’ birthday, Janus wanted to find an antique item to give as a birthday present. The deceitful side did a lot of searching and eventually found an old, wind-up rat toy. It would be the perfect gift for Remus. So, Janus got the wind-up rat and gave it to Remus on the creative side’s birthday. Remus loved it and proceeded to send the rat toy running around the light side of the mindscape. The creative side hoped the rat toy would scare the light sides. Janus just watched his boyfriend’s antics with a smile on his face.

——————————————————————

End notes: Thanks for reading! As always, if you like any of these headcannons and want to make a fanfic or fanart based on them you can. You just need to ask me first, and then tag and credit me in the post so I can see it.

-Monkey💜

AO3 Link to these headcannons: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55072036

[indo-kindo1]

Parenting is hard.

Virgil is the oldest of all the sides nobody knows this not even patton who is considered the oldest of the whole group

Everyone has emotions that develop over time a baby usually starts off with fear or happiness they can come out crying or laughing

Thomas was always told he was a happy baby by his parents so he never questioned who the oldest was “well it has to be Patton he has a lot of my happier emotions then Logan because after the split it would make Roman and Remus younger then Janus would be a bit older then the twins right?”

Virgil always thought it was fine because he was younger bodily than everyone else he was created from the very beginning of Thomases journey in the Void of his mind aimlessly walking around sides can’t be baby’s so he was around the age of 7 it was just him and Thomas for about three minutes then…

“Wow he is so cute!” A blond boy with freckles and dirty blond hair showed off his soft baby blue eyes full of hope. “Hi my name is Emotion but you can call me Happy!” He stuck his hand out to the fear filled boy.

Fear looked at the hand and shook it the world became a lot more busy after that Brain and Creativity joined in just a few months after Thomas learned his first word.

A house appeared once Thomas became the age of 4 looking exactly like his childhood home Fear and the others grew a lot slower than regular since they need to be a bit more mature than that of the host and since Fear is the oldest he was in charge of very emotional kids.

Fear worked the house, taught Happy cooking and cleaning skills, helped Smarts with homework and even got him a book of astrology noticing how he would go back on Thomas’s memories of the night sky. Lier looked up to Fear as a father figure and loved playing with Creativity Fear had to warn them when there games would get to morbid though!

Above all Things were going good in the house.

“FEAR! Help!”

Fear leaped out of his normal looking room into the living room and seeing Lier on the ground near Creativity who is pale and passed out.

“What happened?” He rushed to his kid and kneeled.

“I Know what happened, we were just p-playing a game! And he gave Thomas an idea but he got yelled at by his mom? And then this happened!” Lier is a bit better than his future counterpart because he can control a bit when he talks.

Thomas is at the age of good and evil; the result ends up with Fear witnessing his kiddo splitting into two different people.

“Fear what just happened?” Happy came in at the wrong time.

Fear looked up and said in a soft shaking voice “nothing go back to sleep ok kiddo?” Happy did as told, tearing up for the first time ever and Fear looked back at Lier who was trembling his yellow scales shimmering from the tv screen.

“Man that fucking hurt!” Dark Creativity woke up then Light Creativity woke up to “don’t say that!”

Fear now had a lot on his hands working with five children. Happy was well… different. He took on cooking more than usual as Fear worked on helping Dark Creativity with his mental health Smarts and Happy got glasses after coming to Fear one day when Thomas was 10 saying there eyes hurt and Light Creativity has always wanted to be a prince.

Lier grew to be more of a problem he started to lie a lot in sentences and make it a issue for people to trust him Fear and Dark Creativity quickly picked up on the issue and learned the way he spoke quickly so misunderstandings can be quelled before they started.

More and more rooms opened around the mindscape and the twins claimed it was the appropriate name of the place they live!

Thomas walked down the corridors of school and there he was his first crush. That's when his mind changed and everyone upgraded.

Lier became Deceit Happy became Morality Dark to Intrusive Light to Creativity Smarts to Logic and finally Fear to Anxiety all in one month.

Things changed Deceit couldn’t change the way he talked making Creativity to lash out one day and cut Deceits scaled cheek making Intrusive mad and lash out Logic said they should be separated and Morality didn’t want that they just needed to talk it out!

This caused a issue as Anxiety tried to help them where he could but Intrusive made a side comment one day during movie night that impacted Logic “didn’t you know Logic works best not showing emotions they get in the way! Like a cock block!” Making the Logical side to become stoic and unfeeling. Making Morality more emotional. Affecting everyone else.

In the end it was Thomas that changed the mindscape forcing the place to split apart at the age of 14 so much fighting occurred it caused Anxiety to go into his first panic attack and he would never forgive himself for separating his family at the cost of Thomas.

At that moment the ground shook and everyone stopped talking seeing the oldest break shadows around the whole mindscape with his power “STOP FIGHTING!” In a flash there was a dark version of the house they live in and Deceit and Intrusive was put in there by Thomas’s mind.

Anxiety was wiped from everyone’s mind the medicine that his doctor was giving him worked and he was able to get rid of the bad panic attacks causing Anxiety to wake up in the dark side mind palace seeing this broke his heart because his only family sees him as a weak useless side.

He found it interesting that the sides all remembers things that he taught them Janus was good and calming people down and thinking things threw he was always level headed while he wondered where he went wrong with Remus he spoke his mind and most of the time made Virgil uncomfortable he loved Remus’s Dream scape a world under the stairs it made Virgil sad and happy knowing they still have a piece of each other with them.

The house in the dark side was very bad broken unsound and unclean barely any food and he was stuck with the two he never taught to cook and if he started to act like he did they might get suspicious so he stuck with whatever could pass as mildly cooked or over and avoid the kitchen when Remus tried to cook.

The only thing that made him more sad was when there was movie nights it started back up in the dark side when he woke up they sat together on the broken couch and watched some show that Thomas seen.

“Do you guys ever miss the light sides?” Virgil asked softly. Remus sitting upside down on the armrest eating a deodorant with hair in it looked up “why would we miss them? There was as wet as a dog going down an alleyway just for some gang to come up and take his legs off and leave it there for mice and rats-“ deceit interrupted “Absolutely not why would I ever?”

When Virgil met Thomas for the first time he was surprised and confused he reacted quickly making himself as intimidating as possible bringing in his dad anger also as he snapped at Thomas while also hating himself but knowing it was for the best

[a-rat-called-remus]

Glasses

Fandom//Sander Sides

Warning: Swearing

Story Written by:

@a-rat-called-remus and @viva-gardens

Summary: Remus isn't the type to care about looks but when he realizes he's slowly going blind and has to wear glasses . . . That's a whole other story. He despises them.

Remus stares ahead of him frowning and squinting at the mirror. He looked fucking ridiculous. He took them off and then back on.

Repeating the process over and over again. He hated the fucking things and he hated how they looked on him.

He was going to be pummeled by insults.

Obviously he didn't care. He has never cared much about his appearance or what the others said about him or the cruel nicknames they assigned him, something they thought he didn't know about. Just because he doesn't bring it up doesn't mean he's oblivious to it.

Despite what the others thought he was much more observant and smarter than he appeared.

So why should this be any different. Why should these make him feel so unsure.

He squints down at the glasses in his hands. The ones Logan had conjured up for him.

It was a nice gesture but that didn't make him hate them any less.

he truly didn't deserve his kindness. Never has.

He'd have to leave the dark side eventually. He couldn't lock himself in his room forever.

Though Remus is sure most of them would be more than happy if he did that.

He squints down at them once more putting them back on. Adjusting them to his liking before looking back into the mirror. Staring at his reflection.

------------------------------------------------------

A familiar tugging sensation tilled his body.

Ah, fuck. He goes to take them off again and then-- Poof! Remus was in his assigned spot.

The space between Roman and Virgil.

Roman was going to have a field day with this.

He tilts his head slightly to face his brother.

He hadn't noticed his presence. And by the looks of it no one else had either.

He stood there silently.

Something almost abnormal when it came to Remus, he was always blabbering about something or another. Spouting out every single thought that crowded his mind.

Remus' eyes dart around the room again.

He looks to his other side to see Virgil glancing over at him. Not quite staring at him but now aware of Remus' presence.

Feeling the anxiety radiating off of him. His anxiety only heightened when he saw Virgil looking. It was odd. He was fidgeting with his sash adjusting it and readjusting it. What could have the duke so frazzled? His eyes flickering up to Remus face.

His eyes immediately landing on the green glasses. The glasses. He wanted to reassure Remus, comfort him, not only for Remus' sake but for his own. The anxiety radiating off of Remus was a lot. It felt like scorpions were crawling all over him. He had to stop it. But if he confronted Remus it would only draw attention and things would only get worse. Virgil understood that feeling more than anyone.

Roman hadn't noticed his brother standing next to him. He looked at each of the sides. Patton, Janus, Logan, and Virgil.

He somehow still didn't see his brother.

He looked at Thomas.

Nobody had said anything since they were called here. Not one word. Logan would usually say something, and if he didn't, either Patton or Virgil would. Janus hadn't been here long enough for Roman to know what he would do, and he didn't see his brother.

He looked at each of the sides once more once again somehow overlooking his brother and went to speak.

Roman throws his arms up. "Why has nobody said anything? We have been standing here for quite a bit, Thomas! And we still have yet to talk! Nobody has talked! Not Specs, not Padre, not even Virge. I'm just saying! I'm just bored!"

he throws his arms around while talking, making him look like an uncontrollable puppet.

Remus flinched slightly at the sound of his brother's voice, catching him off guard.

He looked over at Roman, who was staring at him. Or rather staring through him as if Remus hadn't even been there.

He watches as Romans eyes scan over each of the sides, and Thomas once again.

Still not noticing Remus. Good.

His mind immediately wandered off as his brother continued to shout at the others.

[lolia21]

Well I feel down a Sanders Sides rabbit hole and now I have one fan fic idea that keeps playing in my head:

Remus and Roman are twins but they don't attend the same school because Remus was... himself and his parents were kindly asked to transfer him to a school that "fits his personality better". So he goes to a school a whole district over. He gets along with Roman and he loves him but they are very different people so they don't hang out a lot. Remus also can't stand the blatant favoritism they're parent give Roman. He thinks it's sweet that Roman tries to tap it down but it doesn't change anything.

Sp Remus spends most of his free time at his friend Janus house with his other friend Virgil. Janus also shouldn't be attending their school cause he's loaded but he hated the prep school he was sent to and transferred behind his parents back. Money can get you literally anything. Expect real friends which is why Janus loves Remus and Virg so much. Virgil is actually living at a near by boys home. As a kid his home situation wasn't great and he doesn't talk about it a lot. He ended up at Sanders House four years ago though and it's not too bad.

So anyway Roman has never meet Remus' friends and Remus has never met Roman's friend Patton and Logan. Whenever they come over is always at Janus' house. He knows they exist just like Roman knows Virgil and Janus do but they've not met in person over the last two years.

So it all starts pm a long weekend because Halloween is Friday. ( fun fact my school in gerogia gave us Halloween and Valentines off and used it as teacher workshop days.)

So of course the dark side trio is hype, roaming the mall, scaring people, judging costumes, and trying to find accessories to improve their own.

The light side trio is also their because Patton waited too late to get a "decent" (Roman's words) costume, and Logan was hoping to avoid getting one at all.

The crowds get so bad that everyone is separated. Luckily both sides actually have designated met spots, tho for very different reasons. The darks sides met spot is the horror section at Barnes and Nobles. It's large enough that Virgil won't feel claustrophobic and he can read some Poe while he waits and not have people constantly asking if he needs assistance. It was a place chosen, so he doesn't have a panic attack while he waits for his friends since he's the only one without a phone.

On the other had the light side trio chose the lgbtq+ teen romance section as their meet spot. Mainly Because it'll distract Roman enough that he won't get bored of waiting and wonder out to find his friends before they get there. Defeating the purpose of the spot all together.

You can see where this is going.

Patton has been trying to get on the elevator for the last five minuets but everyone time he tries to get on the same time as someone else he let's them all go first and theres no room for him. This goes on until a nice but kinda rude stranger just days "oh my gawd" and pulls him in as he in goes in. The stranger honestly looks way to well dressed to be here and doesn't even introduce himself. He just starts playing on his phone and Patton doesn't know whether saying thank you would be annoying or not. Janus on the other hand is texting Remus about how just met someone who reminds him a little of freshman Virgil and how he hopes he's not freaking out.

Logan has decided to take the stairwell because he knows that people arr less likely to use it over the escalators or elevators. He looks a floor above him and someone who kinda sorta looks like Roman sliding down the railing on his ass and laughing the whole time. He barely has time to dodge as someone yells " dodge nerd" and flies past him. Honestly Logans so surprised by whatever the hell that was that it take him two whole ass minutes to start walking again. Remus is just having a blast. He didn't think this would work and he saw a pretty cute nerd on the way down.

Roman is having a complicated time. He lgbtq teen romance section is usually in the front if the store but it's been switched with the horror section for the month. So here is is not being able to decide whether he should just stay here because the ia the physical spot he normals what's at or go the the actual section with all the books about the boys kissing that he likes to read. Virgil on the other hand is on the virge (ha) of kinda freaking out. He's happy that the sectionnis getting more love, even if it's only for money. But he liked that it was in the back and away from the crowds of people coming in and out. Not to mention theirs someone dude dresses like a prince yelling on the phone to someone named Patton about whether he should "go to the section of love and acceptance or stay in emo hell". Virgil is insulted enough by this to tell him Roman to please stop yelling and go to whatever section isn't here. Roman rolls his eyes calls him knock off Gerard way and ignores him. Virgil completely forgets how nervous he was becuase now his piss3d and they get into an arguments.

It ends when Patton walks in and calls for Roman at the same time that Janus calls in and calls for Virgil. They look to their friend seemingly coming in together and are about to complain to their respective friends when Janus, Virgil and Roman here a familiar voice go

"Brobro what are you doing here. Hey Jan, hey virge," and Remus walks in completely unaware of the fighting that was just happening. Virgil tries to actually get a good like at this guy's face and realizes that without the make up and general zanny disposition he does look a lot like Remus. Before anyone can respond tk that, an another person asks

"OH God Roman what did you do? Who are they?" And of course it's Logan.

So now are dark sides are standing on one side and all the lights on the other. As the two siblings and their two different friend groups collide. Teen hurt, comfort and angst ensues.

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

What are your personal headcanons for the sides?

Ooooh! Hmmm...

Janus: - Blonde - Amber coloured eyes - Shortest - Not a morning person. - He may drink wine, but if it's not wine it's tea - Has 2 pet snakes

Logan: - Black hair - Dark blue eyes - One of the taller sides - Will fall asleep at 10pm on the spot. He got his sleep schedule so much a part of his person that it can not be worked past. - Wine and Coffee addiction. Coffee for normal days, Wine to deal with the other's bullshit.

Remus: - Dark brown hair - His eyes are green but he has a reddish brown ring around his pupil. Central heterochromia i think it's called? - He can sleep anywhere. In the bookshelf crammed between knickknacks and books? Yep. upside down on the stairs? Yep. Somehow got up onto the ceiling? yep he's asleep there too. - Ice eater. He's bad at drinking water but Janus will just conjure a tray of ice and Remus will happily chomp away. - His height is not static... it depends on what's the most funny at the moment.

Roman: - Dark brown hair with a reddish tint - Like with Remus but reddish brown eyes with green around the pupil. - Shorter than Logan by a Pringles chip. - Has an intricate morning and bedtime routine to keep his skin fresh and hair beautiful. - Juice maniac. - Got the green thumb, can make any plant survive and flourish. Has no idea how he does it tho.

Patton: - Light brown hair. - Baby blue eyes - If they all stood in a line he would be in the middle height wise - Got that dad bod, perfect for hugs and snuggles, and strongk arms and legs - Can not cook food for the life of him, but is an amazing baker. Tho he will start baking muffins at 3am because he craved them... - Would get aaaall the cute plush animals he sees if he had the money and was allowed.

Virgil: - Purple dyed hair, bangs are lighter purple than the rest. - Greyish purple eyes - Chronic "can't stand up straight" disease, he's about as tall as Logan and Roman, but since he always hunches over like a shrimp he's shorter. - has 3 pet spiders. - Will. not. let. go. of. the. hoodie! EVEN IF SUMMER IS KILLING HIM! - Iced tea and Gatorade drama queen

[heyyallitssatan]

So I saw a headcanons about Janus being colour blind, and when he lies he can see colour for a minute, but no one else knows about it

So here’s my headcanons for how the dark boyfriends sides found out below the cut

Remus and Virgil were watching Disney conspiracy theories on YouTube when Janus came down to see what all the ruckus was about.

As it turned out they had since moved on from Disney conspiracy theories and were currently watching “Ultimate Trump Fail Compilation”. They were dying of laughter when they noticed Janus standing there staring at them.

They pulled him onto the couch and rewinded to the last clip, and watched Janus as he watched.

He fought back a smirk as he said in his usual deadpan tone, “Well that wasn’t the highlight of my day.”

They died, right then and there, all over again, Janus brand of deadpan sarcasm had always managed to get them going, especially when they were already giggly.

And with that one little lie, Janus saw something he had never seen before; Virgil’s eyeshadow had turned purple.

With every lie that Janus told, he got to experience colour vision for a moment, something he lacked the rest of the time, and given that, along with how little Virgil relaxed enough to make a colour change, this was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Virgil, your eyeshadow, it’s… purple.”

He had scrunched his face up in a look of confusion, something that Virgil’s over analysing brain took to mean he didn’t like it, as such, the eyeshadow started to lose its newfound colour, which Janus didn’t notice, thinking it was just his vision fading.

Remus popped up right in time to almost save it, “Of course it is J-anus”

And in a small, vulnerable voice, Janus asked, “Has it always been purple?” As he looked away from Virgil.

“Of course not Janny, only when he’s happy, and the storm cloud over there doesn’t do that often,” Remus responded, indicating to Virgil, who was still confused and staring silently.

The smallest ‘oh’ escaped his lips, as he stared down at the ground.”

“How could you not know that, it might be rare but he’s done it around us plenty enough for you to notice, I mean, even I did.”

While was faltering for words to write this off, some suave lie that would get him out of this and show him if there were any other colours he had missed Virgil seemed to at least somewhat piece together part of the puzzle.

“…You’ve never seen it change, have you?”

“No.”

“How have you never looked at me long enough to see it?”

“What? No, it’s not that, it’s not that at all, the truth is…”

“Come on Jan, tell us.”

“…I’m not colour blind.”

“Oh Jan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” came from Virgil at the same time as Remus’, “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

“I…don’t know. I just…”

Virgil sighed, “It’s okay Jan, we can talk about it later, for now, let’s just watch the video.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we should do.”

“Ok then, you want to explain?”

“…Yes.”

“C’mon work with us here, we gotta pick something.”

“Yea J-anus, explain, we’re just dying to know,” Remus responded as he mimicked some strange death scene, maybe Romeo?

“Fine…I’m not colour blind, and when I lie I can’t see colour.”

“Oh Jan…”

“Don’t, don’t pity me.”

“It’s not pity J-anus, he’s beating himself up for never realising, something he should stop doing before I turn in a brain eating amoeba a feat all the bad thoughts.”

“You are the bad thoughts?”

“Oh…I’ll eat myself then, starting now!”

“Yes of course Remus, you absolutely should,” Janus drawled out while he pulled Remus’ hand out of his mouth.

The night continued similarly, important conversations being had in between bouts of goofing off, mostly from Remus. He did it whenever one of them started thinking too much, they’d always had a bad habit of that, but it seemed to work, so he kept doing it.

Eventually all of the necessary explanations and talking had happened, and now they had to decide what to do. So naturally they chose for Janus to tell blatant lies over and over, so that he could see different colours they were showing him. It became a game of them describing the colours to him, then showing him, which seemed to make him laugh quite a bit. They also discover that when one of them lied Janus could see their colours, like their hair and clothes.

But of all the talking they had done that night, they had never really brought up Virgil’s eyeshadow again, but it stayed purple the rest of the night, and they realised that the white strike in Remus’ hair could glow radioactive green when he got excited.

At the end of the night, which was actually the beginning of the morning, they had shown Janus all of the colours they could imagine, so they asked him which was his favourite. He responded, in a quiet tired voice while he stared up at them from whatever strange pile they had found themselves in, where limbs went numb and melded together and no one really knew where they ended and someone else began, “Not purple, or green,” in an effort to see them one last time before his eyes finally slipped shut.

Virgil and Remus fell asleep just the same, but not before quietly admitting they they quite like yellow too.

[tss-storytime-summaries]

20

Expected Rating: General/Teen

Warnings: Not-very graphic violence, presumed major character death, injury to main character, probably a small amount of blood, graphic description of monsters. Elements of unreality.

Characters: Janus, Virgil, Remus, Logan, Roman, Patton. (Listed according to plot relevance)

Romantic relationships: Logince

Summary: The pages of the notebook were filled with marks— all manner of directions, diagrams, maps, and at certain pages, jagged sketches of hallways and corridors that would cease to exist the moment Janus turned back 'round again. Cursive on chicken scratch, hasty scribble crossing out blocky capital letters. The margins looked cramped with sentences that were rewritten or reminders that were circled and underlined over and over and over again. In dark yellow for Janus, vivid green for Remus. The ink glowed bioluminescent in the dark of the subconscious, stark bright against paper that never ran out.

"Blast. It shifted?" Janus pointed out a hallway he just added not three days before, "I thought that one turned left,"

"Not anymore. Ever since the trip to the circus, this place gotten weird,"

“I swear that is the last time I’d let you convince Thomas to go through a corn maze,” Janus scowled, drawing a star right by where the hallway was on the map.

Remus grinned, “Don’t be a party pooper Jan. Just making memories Vee would wanna hear about when he comes back,”

--- Or: Janus and Remus never stopped trying to find Caution from the depths of the subconscious, even after all these years. But continuing to hide their jaunts from the other sides might not be so easy anymore.

[intrulogical]

the semantics of logan as the orange side (essay)

so, i don’t think this is going to be anything TOO conclusive (hence the lowercase) but something i wanted to share from the discussions i’ve had with orb (@/orbmanson7) would be the possible technicalities of how logan works as the orange side. logan as orange has been a popular fan theory for years now but i don’t think anyone has attempted trying to explain how logan becomes orange. how does wrath and/or other suppressed emotions integrate with his role as logic? how long has he been the orange side? how has he been able to hide his side as orange for so long?

well, i’m not gonna say this is as concrete as my other analyses, but i’m just gonna throw in my guesses/predictions on this matter.

(this essay, by the way, is written under the assumption that orange’s role is wrath/suppressed emotions/taboo emotions.)

(essay under the cut!)

first thing to establish: logan being the orange side implies that logan has other roles outside of logic. let’s get this clear, this does NOT mean there are two people inhabiting logan’s body, or that logan has “two personalities”— let’s try avoiding negative DID stereotypes as much as possible. what i mean is, logan embodies different functions just as how the other sides do. 

from what we’ve seen in the series, some of the sides encompass more than just a singular role. sometimes, they can have two distinct roles that seem unrelated to each other. we can see this especially with the dark sides, with janus representing both self-preservation and deceit, and remus representing dark creativity and intrusive thoughts. in essence, the dark sides seem to embody more of the former traits that i’ve mentioned. janus is mostly concerned with thomas’ self-interest, and remus being the beholder of more taboo, non-family friendly shenanigans.

what makes them interesting, though, is that it seems like thomas’ suppression or general dismissal of these functions caused them to develop a secondary function, or more specifically, be reduced to the most negative aspects of their roles. when prioritizing self-interest, for example, you would obviously lie to preserve your reputation. because self-care is already taboo in unhealthy catholic upbringings, thomas would immediately associate self-preservation with the worst parts about itself. thus, janus is both self-preservation and deceit. remus, on the other hand, as the beholder of forbidden knowledge, is immediately labelled immoral by default. as long as thomas has an established set of morals, he will continue suppressing what he considers taboo. hence, repetitive participation, or participation in general, by remus would be tagged as intrusive thoughts.

so, seeing the worst in a side or a way of thinking sort of alters a side’s functions. they’re the same, but they can slightly deviate depending on thomas’ upbringing and internalized beliefs.

now, long rant about sides and their functions over, as ironic as it sounds, i’d imagine that logan can embody suppressed emotions — or emotions considered as taboo — as a secondary function. think of an authoritative parent, or a teacher, for example. to raise or discipline someone, they could, initially, act as calm and logic-driven as possible. but when the recipient is uncooperative, then the authority in question can resort to anger to create order. perhaps, they can be snarky or insulting to get people to behave or become quiet. to guarantee someone listens, you can instill fear. but usually, these only come when worst comes to worst.

that’s how i imagine why logan would even have a function like that in the first place. the question is, since when did he have this function, and why wouldn’t we know about it until now?

this is where the real guessing game begins, so buckle up.

like i mentioned a while ago, the dark sides are mostly the ones who encompass dual functions. even virgil could fit into that, but you can do the math on how it applies to him. so, if that’s the case, then there’s a possibility that logan can qualify as thomas’ definition of a dark side. but, well, he’s considered as a light side, those thomas compartmentalize as the “good” sides. how does it work, then? when has logan had this function? well, one possibility is that it’s a recent development, hence why we wouldn’t know anything about it.

but a funnier/more interesting thought would be that, logan has been orange most of his life. this would only make sense if his role has logic has been suppressed as much as janus and remus’ functions were. and, well, thomas’ catholic upbringing is a perfect catalyst as to why logic would be suppressed/be considered a “dark” side in the first place. to quote orb, indulging in religion develops a suspension of disbelief. you don’t care how illogical something sounds because that’s religion.

and thus, logan develops those secondary functions.

now, another question would be, how the hell was he still considered a “light” side all his life? to not overcomplicate things, i think we all acknowledge that developing a sense of logic, despite being religious, is quite normal. i feel like it’s a copout to just say “common sense”, but it really is, especially considering we grow up in academic environments.

the funny thing to imagine is how logan was able to hide his dual functions from both the light and dark sides. like, i still think about virgil referring to the dark sides as “[janus] and the others” plural, so he seems to be aware of another side besides remus. if i’m allowed to guess wildly, my thought is that, since the dark and light sides don’t mingle often, he was able to just… hide that he was both. live a double-life. a “you haven’t seen bruce wayne and batman in the same room” vibe. 

the reason logan would hide it for a long time is because thomas, as mentions before, has heavy black-and-white thinking. that’s why the dark sides lose influence— growing up, thomas and the light sides thought of them as amoral. if the light sides knew logan had a “dark side function”, then he’d be ostracized as well. if the finale won’t disclose the whole black-and-white thinking debacle, then thomas may become afraid of logan as he was with the other dark sides.

this would also explain why logan chooses to suppress his emotions. i always thought there was much more depth to it than just productivity. it would make sense, then, that logan suppressed his emotions because he was afraid to be found out. 

but, obviously, with the trajectory sanders sides is going, it wouldn’t be surprising if logan gets found out sooner or later.

there’s a lot cc!thomas can play with with this plotline. i was thinking, a possibility as to why logan is hiding his orange function is because he did something horrendous years back that the sides blamed the orange side for. could you imagine the betrayal they would feel if they realized it was logan this entire time? or, with the inevitable discussion about moral greyness, they might have to disclose who all the dark sides are. could you imagine the sweat on logan’s face if they ever get to the topic of orange?

i also have an inkling that janus and remus might possibly know of logan’s secret function. orb disclosed to me the possibility that remus’ main intention in WTIT is to make logan more assertive in influencing thomas. remus recognizes the futility in his current passive and independent work ethic and thus, he pushed logan’s buttons for him to finally snap. if remus knew of logan’s orange function, it would make sense then as to why he didn’t seem surprised by logan’s eyes. and by extent of remus working under janus’ hand, it would make sense if janus also knew.

how virgil doesn’t know is a mystery, or how logan was able to hide it from the light sides for a long time. but again, this is all some wild guessing. i think logan as a hybrid light-dark side could really challenge thomas’ perception of black-and-white thinking AND may cause a dramatic divide amongst the sides during the finale.

anyway, lots of potential and possibilities here, so i would love to hear any other possibilities of how logan could function as the orange side!

( + special shoutout to orb for the brainrot, couldn’t have thought of this without you. go follow them if you haven’t already, since they also create really good sasi meta!)

[part-time-zombie]

So after obsessing over that last episode nonstop, I believe I have been able to identify some of the sides love languages! (not all mind you, but enough, even though they're all my headcanons mostly). buckle up, this is a long one (don't say I didn't warn you)

Logan appears to be quality time. He clearly enjoyed and appreciated the various activities patton had planned for him, but he was only upset when he had less time to do it. In fact, most of when he's more sad/angry is when he is blown off, as if his time with them isn't valued. When thomas brushed off the chores to go out with nico in wtit, logan was upset and probably less about neglecting his chores (although that did play a part) but more about how thomas promised to spend the day working with him, and then ignored him again. He even asked roman "how is treating their (the viewers) time as valuable belittling them?" in another episode, though I forgot which one I'm sorry. He was clearly miffed that he was blown off in svs, not only because he knew his input was useful but also because he wanted to spend time with them and be involved: "There's always room for me". It seems pretty clear to me that logan is most happy when he gets to spend time doing what he loves (or with people he loves, wink wink).

Patton is probably gift giving, from what I've seen. He saw logans perfect day as a gift, and as such he was too excited to slow down about it because he wanted to keep giving him the gifts (activities). When virgil was fully accepted and revealed his name in aa, patton gave him the card as his own way of saying "you're family, you're loved". The pasta he gave roman had the secret ingredient of love in it too, and he seemed to really appreciate the card virgil gave him, as he hung it up on his bedroom wall. We could even go further and say that since he eats cookies when he's feeling down, that's because he sees the cookies as a "gift" to himself, like his own form of self love maybe.

Roman is maybe words of affirmation, though I admit this one was tough at first. It may not make sense when you look back on all the "jokes" he made about the Sides, but rewatching athd clears it up a bit. After logan questions his repeated mockery of frozen, he replies "look, this is how I show my love", so if he frequently makes similar banter with the others, it could be seen as his form of loving them. He is so easily charmed by janus (at first) because he is given constant compliments from him, and he is too flattered to realize that these compliments could have an ulterior motive. In fact, after he realized that janus may not have meant all of the nice things he said to him, he is outright hateful towards him, because he feels betrayed by someone who weaponized his love language against him. In this most recent episode, he seems less enthusiastic about how virgil gives him a good day, but mostly holds his tongue until the fairy tale virgil reads can be mistaken as prince slander, at which point he defends the prince in the story as much as himself. He only calms down and falls asleep after virgil reframes and adjusts the ending into a more optimistic and loving story about the prince saving the mermaid. He even compliments himself before going to bed, his own self love.

Idk I'm rambling but this has not left my head. If I can figure out the dark sides I'll make another post

[delimeful]

show your fangs (2/2)

warnings: illness, past trauma, threats, arguing, injury/blood mention, dehumanizing language from an antagonist, enemies to friends speedrun edition

-

Janus found the encampment at the southern end of his woods, not far from where Virgil and Elli had parted.

It seemed to be a group of mercenaries, going by the metal-and-leather armor and assortment of scars each of them bore. He didn’t obviously didn’t tolerate human bounty hunters in his forest, but they were far enough away from the woods that if he hadn’t been searching, he likely would have dismissed them as another gaggle of normal passerby.

They didn’t seem to have any intention to get closer, either, only ever glancing in that direction with the familiar wariness or disgust that most humans wore while regarding his sanctuary.

Instead, they were moving along at a moderate, steady pace, with all the assuredness of a wolf running down an exhausted deer. Janus recalled the dark shadows underneath Virgil’s eyes, and felt that the comparison was far too apt.

The forest wasn’t what they’d come for.

Janus’s displeasure made the trees’ branches rattle all the same.

He didn’t waste another moment watching them, twisting the space around him and emerging on the far east side of his woods.

Virgil’s pace had been dogged for the past few days, digging his fingers into nooks and crannies as he climbed and hauling himself over steep ledges, never pausing to sit and rest the way Janus had seen many a traveler do.

(At the time, he’d thought it strange, a waste of energy and disregard for self-maintenance. Now, he wished the path had been smoother, the human’s efforts more fruitful; the distance between him and his pursuers seemed far too small.)

Currently, however, his progress seemed to have ground to a halt. He’d moved since the previous evening, but not far. He was only a handful of yards away from the stretch of ground where he’d previously knelt.

The reason was obvious. Even as he sat with his back pressed against a boulder outcrop, eyes closed and head tilted back, his leg was carefully angled so that there wasn’t any pressure put on the back of his calf.

It had been bandaged, at least, though Janus didn’t hold any hope that the makeshift fabric was particularly clean. After all, his shirt had been sacrificed to make them, going by the missing right sleeve. Days of travel tended to leave behind layers of dirt and sweat, and his current clothes had certainly seen better days.

Janus watched him for a few long moments, and then sent a loose, cold breeze that way, rustling his hair and tugging at his clothes in a silent encouragement to keep moving.

Virgil breathed in deeply, and then dragged himself to his feet, his face twisted into a silent grimace all the way up. He glanced over at the woods, gaze once again landing eerily close to where Janus stood, and then began the arduous process of walking along treacherous terrain with an entire limb out of commission.

In light of the situation, it really wasn’t that surprising that he stopped to lean against a heavy rock only a paltry twenty minutes later. It was, unfortunately, still very frustrating to watch. Janus sent another breeze.

They played this game of stop and go for another few hours, Janus peripherally aware of the mercenary party continuing to grow closer, and only when they stopped to camp for the evening did Janus finally relent and stop battering at the human with winds chilled enough to keep him awake and on the move.

He left Virgil to curl up and sleep in peace, following his steps back to do what little he could to make the terrain harsher, less forgiving. Still, even with all his effort, it wasn’t enough to halt the party for anything close to a significant amount of time. They were traveling outside the reign of his forest, his control, and he’d sworn noninterference with human matters.

(The oath had been easy to make, a bitter satisfaction in it. He’d expected it to be just as easy to uphold. He hadn’t imagined anything like this.)

–

When he returned the next morning, unsatisfied with the night’s work, he perhaps made his gale break upon Virgil’s sleeping form a bit too harshly. He repressed a wince at the misplaced anger.

It didn’t end up mattering. The human didn’t stir, not even an inch.

A jolt of electric panic ran down Janus’s spine. He couldn’t see the human’s chest, not all curled up against the stone as he was. Was he breathing?

He stepped up to the edge of his territory, a new sort of alarm spreading through him, but even now he couldn’t shake his suspicion. If he went out there and this was a trap, a long con intended to get his guard down, he could be killed. Along with his own life lost, he’d be leaving the forest undefended, with a group of mercenaries as witness. Spreading the word of a forest full of vulnerable myths would be the least of what they could do.

He should leave the human to his fate. It might even be a sort of mercy, granting him a less painful death. That was something his pursuers surely wouldn’t give him.

Virgil continued to lay there, more motionless than he’d been since first appearing at the forest’s border.

Janus scowled, and stepped carefully past the barrier, his invisibility fading away as he moved past the pines.

If Elli– who had indeed been trekking through the forest with bullheaded determination, asking anyone they saw where they could find the guardian– found their friend like this, the results wouldn’t be pretty. That was the only reason he was checking. It was on behalf of one of his residents.

Besides, there wasn’t much that one human could do to harm him when he was in this form.

(Janus pointedly wasn’t thinking about the few things that one could do.)

He crouched next to the human, his shadow completely enveloping the little figure, and reached out with a cautious hand to prod Virgil onto his back.

At the first touch, his heart jumped. He’d half-expected to meet cold, stiff flesh, but instead found he was practically burning up. He could also feel the chest under his fingertips rising with strained breaths. Still alive.

Alive, and likely suffering from an infected wound.

Janus carefully worked his fingers underneath the human’s back, scooping him into his grip fully with all the gentleness that handling someone so small required. He was well-practiced after decades of handling human-sized myths, but they were also usually a bit more durable.

Virgil was decidedly not, this fact only emphasized by the inflamed skin and weeping pus revealed when Janus pulled back the bandages.

To make matters worse, the wound’s scabbing had dried against the bandages, meaning that pulling it free had caused another fresh wave of bleeding from the long gashes in his calf. The human twitched, the pain finally enough to wake him where being battered by winds and picked up by a giant hadn’t.

Janus forced his face to remain neutral and cold as Virgil’s eyes fluttered open, knowing exactly what the human would see. Even with most of his more monstrous traits tucked away, he still had the pointed ears, slit pupils, and curved fangs long enough to poke past his lips. Those features, combined with the giant form that each guardian was blessed with, were sure to send any human screaming.

How irritating. With a sigh, he curled his hand into more of a cup, intending to pre-emptively prevent any falls from thrashing.

Virgil took a long moment to blink, visibly trying to focus his gaze on his surroundings. Eventually, he seemed to find Janus’s face, more or less.

“H‘lo?” he asked, squinting. “Who…?”

Janus raised an eyebrow; this was possibly the most sedate that he’d seen the human ever. Not the reaction he’d expected. The fever had certainly taken its toll, in a different way than he’d expected. “I am the forest’s guardian.”

Virgil’s face did something, probably an attempt to smooth out into a mask of his own, but only succeeded in going lax enough that every little twitch of emotion was exceedingly easy to read.

Right now, the primary emotion was hurt.

“Not inside,” Virgil replied, and it took Janus a moment to realize it was a promise, rather than a request. “Leaving.”

That was right, the last time he’d been confronted with a myth outside these woods, they’d been trying to kill him. Janus moved his assessment of Virgil’s sedate reaction from ‘weird’ to ‘concerning’.

The human in question tensed, like he was going to try and get up and show Janus that he was, in fact, doing his best to continue away from the woods.

Janus had enough foresight to see how badly that would go, and set two fingers against Virgil’s torso and upper legs, keeping him in place. Jostling that injury by trying to stand would have the human in a world of pain. “I know. You’re not in trouble.”

Virgil’s face pinched slightly in doubt, but he didn’t fight against the hold. He didn’t seem to have the energy to try.

Another moment of hesitation. Janus knew he couldn’t treat the wound like this. Healing was delicate work. He’d have to bring himself to Virgil’s level. Could he?

Virgil didn’t seem concerned with his silence. He curled slightly against Janus’s palm, wrapping an arm around one of the fingers pinning him in place. He was just seeking heat, shivering with the false cold that fevers brought. It didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.

But he was staring up at Janus’s face, still, and there was nothing in that look but idle, hazy curiosity.

Janus hissed lowly to himself, and Virgil’s face went pinched up again as he hissed back, the human version of the sound made even more pathetic by how little force was put into it. Virgil looked confused afterwards, like even he wasn’t sure what point he’d been trying to prove with that.

It wasn’t funny. Janus wasn’t charmed, not by the ridiculous responses or the utter lack of fear.

He wasn’t even fooling himself, at this point. It was his choice that decided whether the human lived or died here, and despite everything, this was one human he didn’t want to watch die.

–

Janus left Virgil briefly to retrieve what he would need to treat him, leaving one glove to insulate the human from the cold stone ground upon seeing how miserably he attempted to cling to Janus’s fingers.

All that was left was to take the form that he hadn’t worn in years. The one that bore the traces of far more memories than his normal guardian one. The one that he needed if he was going to keep Virgil from dying any time soon.

It’s just one human, he told himself, and folded himself down into the shape that had once been his only one, in his life before this sanctuary.

It was like a layer of confidence, of false bravado had been stripped alongside his size. His gait was stiff, his jaw clenched tight, but he forced himself onwards, past the safety of his woods. The only one around to tell on him (to hurt him) was nearly delirious with fever.

He approached with audible steps, which stuttered just the slightest bit as the human turned to face him. He looked undersized in the heap of yellow fabric that Janus had been wearing on a single hand earlier in the day, but from this angle, Janus suspected that the human would actually be taller than him.

Thankfully, for both Janus’s nerves and his own health, the human didn’t attempt to stand up, only staring up at him for a long moment, frozen like a deer in place.

“I’m here to help you,” Janus attempted to reassure, the usual sly silkiness gone from his voice. He’d known this would happen. There was no hiding the scales along his skin or the scars carved into his face. Not in this form.

The moment his voice split the air, though, the tension left Virgil as though it had never been there in the first place. “Y’re back,” he managed, the words coming out sort of lopsided but still legible. He sounded pleasantly surprised, of all things.

(If not his identity, his appearance, what exactly had frightened Virgil about this form? What had made him go still and alarmed when even his giant self hadn’t elicited that sort of reaction?)

Janus blinked, and then shook his head, forcing himself to breach the few meters of distance between them and crouch beside his patient.

Virgil didn’t protest as Janus slowly maneuvered his leg out and into the best position to be treated. He did make a low pained whine as Janus continued the process of peeling the stuck bandages away, but he didn’t lash out or pull away, and the process was eased once Janus had dampened them.

Cleaning the wound was significantly more painful, and this time Virgil did lunge forward, but it was only to grab onto one of Janus’s hands, squeezing it with force as he rode through the pain of the disinfectant.

(Janus continued to wipe away dirt and grime from the wound, pretending that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat in sheer learned terror for a moment there.)

It was a hassle to go through each task one-handed. His grip was borderline-painful. Still, Janus didn’t pull away.

Once the wound had been rewrapped (with clean bandages, this time), all that was left to do was wait for the fever to break. The human could do that on his own. Janus was no longer needed there.

He stared down at the hand gripping his, clinging on firmly even as the human slipped back into sleep after the exhausting ordeal, and sighed a long, dramatic sigh.

There was no harm in sitting here for a while longer.

(He had plenty of memories of gentle touch, of friendly contact. It shouldn’t matter that all of them were from after he’d become a guardian. It shouldn’t matter that in this form, the sensation of a warm hand in his was new and unfamiliar.

It mattered anyways.)

–

When the human woke the next day, his fever had broken. Mercifully, he’d woken before too much of the day had been lost.

He also woke alone.

Janus watched as Virgil climbed blearily to his feet, slow but not nearly as hindered as he’d been before. Watched as he put weight on his injured leg and found that, properly bound and with the application of a little healing water, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad. Watched as he took a moment to stare down at his hand, flexing it open and closed for a moment as though feeling some phantom sensation.

When Virgil set off again, Janus turned away to return to his duties.

The human was healed, and with a blessing set on him that would obscure his trail and make it near-impossible for human trackers to follow, the mercenaries were sure to get frustrated with the tangled, hostile path Janus had so kindly created for them, and they would give up. Virgil would make it past the whole of the forest without trouble.

The problem had been resolved. There wasn’t any need for him to interfere further.

At his side, he kept his own fist clenched.

–

For the next couple of days, Janus forced himself to focus on other tasks, namely requests made of the guardian, of which there was an unending supply.

The only attention he allowed himself to dedicate to the human was a slight awareness in the corner of his mind, tracking his progress as he continued along the perimeter of the woods.

Well. That, and avoiding the repeated requests for a meeting with Elli that other denizens kept passing along to him, often with an unimpressed stare when he completely dodged around the subject.

Ultimately, Elli brought the meeting to him, instead.

Janus was pinged by several of the sanctuary’s residents at once, and he paused only long enough to set aside his current task before slipping between two trees on one side of his forest and emerging from a completely separate set on the other side.

He couldn’t really call it a fight, since one participant was warily backing up, and the other was being forcibly restrained from lunging at them. Still, the intent was clearly there, and against his rules.

“What did you do to him?!” Elli was shouting, voice cracking as they forced it several levels louder than they normally spoke. They’d been lifted clear off the ground by one of the other bystanders, arms pinned to their sides, but this didn’t seem to cool their ire even slightly.

“What’s it to you?” Heidi growled defensively, her hand hovering over the knife strapped to her side.

Virgil’s knife. Ah. Yes, that would do it.

“Tell me!” Elli kicked out futilely, their face twisted up in desolate anger and tears budding at the edge of their eyes. Janus stepped forward before they could reply, his presence immediately drawing the attention of everyone there.

“Curator,” Heidi greeted, already looking frustrated. “This one was not my fault.”

Perhaps normally he would have doubted the claim– she’d started more than her fair share of disputes– but not this time. “I’m aware. You can work out your differences with our new arrival and the company they keep at a later date. Right now, I believe they’re owed a long-overdue conversation with me.”

He held a hand out and Elli didn’t argue as they were lowered back onto their feet upon it. In fact, they hardly even waited for Janus to move them to a more private setting before starting their petition.

They cleared their throat, eyes still red-rimmed. “Curator, th-there’s someone who needs sanctuary from you–,”

“I’m aware of what you want from me,” Janus cut in smoothly, “and I cannot grant your wish.”

“Why not?” Their voice was softer now, but there was still that underlying thread of steel.

“Humans are not granted access to these woods.” That was the simplest way to put it.

“Why not?” Elli repeated, brow now twisted with confusion.

Janus tapped one finger lightly against their leg, the one that had been injured when they’d arrived here at Virgil’s side. “Don’t you already know?”

Elli frowned. “Virgil didn’t do that. He helped me.”

“Do you think you’re the only one here who’s been hurt by humans?” Janus proposed the question without the cutting edge he might have normally given it, and waited for it to sink in before continuing. “Your friend is alive. He’s traversing the edge of the woods, and he’ll be free to continue on as he pleases once he reaches the northern trade path. You can head there and accompany him, or stay here in the sanctuary, but he isn’t welcome.”

The naiad had sagged with relief upon hearing that Virgil was still breathing after all, but Janus’s ultimatum made them shoot him a stung look, so full of betrayal that he had to work to keep his firm expression from slipping.

Elli stepped back, shaking their head in silent condemnation. “Let me down.”

Janus lowered his hand to the ground, and they scurried off as if the touch burned. They turned to face him again before speaking, their head tilted back to maintain eye contact.

“This isn’t the sanctuary we believed in,” they told him, chin lifted up in a stubborn jut. “Not if you’re willing to let good people get hurt because you’re afraid.”

Janus refused to react, still as stone, and Elli left him behind to walk northwards.

‘The sanctuary we believed in.’

What kind of human was Virgil, to hear tales of a forest full of monsters and think of safety?

—

In the end, it was pure luck that he hadn’t been too late.

A flare of magic near the barrier had caught his attention, and he’d followed it curiously, expecting a wary myth testing his magic or signaling for aid.

(He was pointedly ignoring the little voice that told him he could check on Virgil’s process while he was on that side of the woods.)

There hadn’t been a single sign before this moment, no warnings that he could have noted.

Even so, there was no disputing the band of mercenaries that stood before him, visible from the barrier’s edge.

They stood in a loose semicircle, their backs to the woods, surrounding the last person he’d wanted to see there and the only possible person he could have expected. Virgil.

There had clearly already been a fight, and Virgil had just as clearly lost. He was on hands and knees, posture curled in to brace for a blow, and one leg was held up gingerly, as though the wounds on it had been freshly reopened.

Of course they were. He’d been up against five fully armed men, and he didn’t even have a knife.

“… just tell us what we need to know,” the apparent leader was saying in a faux-coaxing tone. He held a glowing wooden trinket in hand, the source of the magic flare up, and Janus cursed his own stupidity. He hadn’t thought bounty hunters would stoop so low as to use enchanted tracking tools, hadn’t accounted for it in his blessing.

The leader stepped closer, impatient with Virgil’s lack of response. “Come now. Everyone can see how quickly your little ‘friend’ abandoned you, and you’re still defending it?”

Virgil muttered something, and when the leader leaned in closer to hear, he lifted his head and spat directly in the man’s face.

The whole group rippled with violent intent, and the leader let out an unamused bark of laughter before backhanding him hard enough that the sound of it echoed. Virgil rocked with the force of the blow and then wavered in place, looking close to passing out.

Janus couldn’t look away. He felt a sharp, icy anger sweep through him, the trees creaking ominously as his temper swelled. Some of the mercenaries glanced over their shoulders at the forest, visibly nervous.

The leader didn’t seem to notice. “We’ll do it the hard way, then. We’ve waited this long, we can stand to keep our patience a little longer, see if a little fresh meat won’t bait out a monster worth our time.” Virgil twitched at that, his breathing going shallow, and the mercenary laughed. He pulled a wicked-looking knife, the edge ridged like a saw blade, designed to hurt. “We might even make a dime off the leftovers if we’re careful. Turns out traitors like you don’t look so different from the monsters on the inside. I’m sure your guts will be convincing enough to scam a few amateurs, at least.”

The wind kicked up sharply, clouds blotting out the sun, his fury creating an unnerving harmony of rustling leaves and hollow whistling, but it was all cosmetic, surface-level. If Janus stayed hidden, it was also all he could do.

But if he went out there, he’d be vulnerable to those mercenaries, to humans that had already proven they had magical tools and were willing to use them.

At the feeling of the breeze through his hair, Virgil lifted his head and locked eyes with Janus, past the barrier, past the veil of invisibility draped over him. His lip was split, one eye swollen and crusting with blood. The other had the unnatural sheen of true sight, the sort of gift Janus had watched humans use to hunt down myths in hiding for ages.

There was no fever haze to obscure the truth this time. Virgil could see right through Janus, all the way down to the paltry, scarred little being he’d been before this forest.

Yet there was no disgust there. No greed. No hatred.

Janus stepped forward despite himself, despite everything.

And Virgil— Virgil’s good eye widened, just slightly, and gave the tiniest shake of the head. The near-unnoticeable motion was belied by the vehemence in his gaze. ‘Don’t come.’

He recognized Janus as the guardian. He believed in the forest’s sanctuary. He wanted to protect it.

The least Janus could do was return the favor.

He let himself fold down into his original form, and dropped his invisibility, looking every bit as vulnerable as he’d been years ago. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The distraction worked, the men who had been watching the trees warily shouting out in alarm, and for a moment every eye turned to him.

Virgil went tense, seeing the misdirection for what it was, but when he angled his body to run, he did it in the wrong direction.

Really, was it too much to ask that Janus’s abrupt change of heart simply be an understood thing? Must he really communicate it himself?

Without breaking eye contact, Janus lifted his arm and held his hand out, fingers splayed. A beacon. A lifeline. An extension of trust.

Virgil reached back.

He darted past the broken ranks of the mercenaries, his pains ignored in favor of one final fight-or-flight rush, and streaked directly towards the barrier, bolstered by the wind at his back.

Janus could see the fear in him, had witnessed it lingering in this human the entire time, but it was abruptly overshadowed by sheer, dumb courage.

It was in the way he didn’t slow down, already intimately aware of how the barrier’s refusal had felt and forcing himself forward anyhow. The way he believed in that outstretched hand enough to take the chance that this was a trick. To leave the crevice. To give up the knife. To be small, vulnerable.

For the first time, the barrier parted for a human hand. For the second, a hand grabbed on to his.

At some point in the middle there, they both realized that approaching at a dead sprint wasn’t conducive to a graceful collision.

Janus stiffened up for impact, a tactic that worked significantly less well when he wasn’t a giant invulnerable magic forest guardian, and Virgil twisted so that his momentum was sent to the side rather than hitting Janus head-on.

They went spinning, a dizzying series of rotations, and despite Virgil’s best efforts to keep them on their feet, they shortly ended up hitting the ground in a tumble of limbs.

“Ow,” the first human to ever set foot in his forest said plainly.

Janus let out a hysterical giggle, one that he would henceforth deny to the end of his days.

They made eye contact, and Janus realized that their hands were still clasped. Virgil offered him a tentative half-grin, but a moment later his gaze shifted to something behind them, and then he was shuffling to cover as much of Janus as possible with his longer frame.

Janus followed his gaze, finding that half the mercenaries had advanced while the others waited warily behind. One had a crossbow loaded and aimed at them, and another had tested their luck against the barrier and was now clutching a burnt hand to his chest.

The leader stood there, a scowl on his face, knife still in hand. “You think you’re safe there? It won’t be safe for long. No magic is impenetrable.”

“Why bother with all that work?” Janus asked, his lips curling into something self-satisfied. “I can let you in right now, should you truly wish to enter.”

He disentangled himself from Virgil, who protested and attempted to follow him to his feet with no success. He was clearly feeling the effect of moving so much while injured. That was fine. Janus could stand and face their opponents for the both of them.

“Oh, but…,” he tapped a finger against his lips thoughtfully. “I should greet you properly, first.”

Between one moment and the next, he was once again towering over everyone there, as vast and implacable as the mountain and its grove. He crouched over Virgil, placing his hands on either side of where the human sat and leaning on them, a show of faux-casualness.

“As the guardian of the forest, it would only be fair to return any intentions you have towards its inhabitants. What was it they said?” He directed the question down to Virgil. “That they wanted to provide fresh meat for those who live in my woods?”

There was a pause, and for a moment Janus worried he’d miscalculated, that this was too much, and then–

“I’m pretty sure they were saying that human organs are pretty valuable if you hand them over to the right people,” Virgil mused, lips tugged up into a smirk. He leaned back against Janus’s wrist, happy to play into the act. “I wonder how many they have between the group of them?”

“We could certainly find out,” Janus practically purred, and what little color remained in the mercenaries' faces drained away. “Please, do come in.”

He moved, the slightest shifting of weight forward, and two of the mercenaries turned and bolted, bravado visibly snapping. The rest, abandoned by their greater numbers and outclassed in every other way, were soon to follow.

Once they were out of sight, Virgil burst out laughing, a hoarse chuckle that immediately cut off with a wince as he jostled his wounds.

“For goodness’s sake,” Janus frowned at the fool, shifting back to give him space but keeping his wrist still to support his weight. “Haven’t you re-opened enough wounds?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, staying right where he was. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea to get the crap beat out of me by a bunch of assholes. Give the credit where it’s due.”

“If they ever show their faces here again, I certainly plan to,” Janus replied, voice saccharine. He then paused for a moment before slowly curling a hand around where Virgil sat. “We should get you treated.”

The human blinked up at him as well as he could with one black eye. “What, I’m… I’m staying? This wasn’t just a one-time, scheme-based entry?”

His tone was forcibly kept light, but Janus could see the badly-hidden hope in his posture.

“You’re staying,” he replied, as trustworthy as he could manage. “If you want. I’ll warn you now, the others may take a while to… adjust.”

Virgil cracked a grin, shrugging slightly as Janus’s fingers moved to support his back. “Hey, between you and the lady who stole my knife, I’ve convinced two out of two people not to murder me so far. My streak could continue.”

“Nobody will be murdering you on my watch,” Janus told him, and then tried to distract from the utter soppiness of that statement by lifting Virgil up. “Besides, you haven’t even accounted for your greatest proponent.”

Virgil shuffled, getting comfortable in Janus’s grip, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Janus said, turning to set off to where he could feel a stubborn presence hiking up the mountain. “I''m certain Elli will be more than willing to counter anyone that wants to trouble you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil brighten at the mere mention of his friend, and knew that he’d made the right decision after all.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Burned Out

hiya! guess who’s craving more angst?? me!! So, since bruised ego, creative block, and shackled creativity has already been done plenty times, what if Roman had literal burnout. like maybe he’s got a high fever or he feels like he’s literally being burnt and he doesn’t realize it. Maybe another side smells the smoke and follow it to Roman who is just working away and he looks exhausted and sick and stuff. And then the sides take care of him and give him comfort. - lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

 Read on Ao3

Warnings: burn out, emotional and physical

Pairings: DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 3382

The first time Roman noticed it, he thought it was a new power.

 The first time Roman noticed it, he thought it was a new power.

In his defense, he was still young! Creativity still reigned supreme in the Imagination, how was he supposed to know what it meant? The Imagination was wild and free and he was the only one who could tame it! He and his brother would craft wondrous things the other Sides couldn't hope to imagine, and they did it every day, all day, until Thomas had to go to sleep and they could slip into his dreams and play all night long.

So when he saw a spark curling up from the tips of his fingers, he thought he'd created something new.

It was so cool to have fires burning in his fingers, wasn't it? Fire at this point was still dangerous and scary and all the adults told you never to go near it because it was so scary. So if Roman could have fires burning in his fingers that made smoke and sparks, that was cool.

"Maybe you're gonna be like a dragon," Remus had suggested, his tentacles flopping around. It was at this point that the—well, the Sides that would become the Dark Sides had started to show their more animalistic features. Janus's scales had begun to show, his extra arms making him a menace when it came to movie nights. Virgil's voice was doing this weird thing now that made his ghost stories extra scary. And Remus, well, Remus smacks Roman's arm. "That's cool! I'm a Kraken, you're a dragon!"

"I thought Logan said you were an octopus."

"A Kraken is just a really big octopus."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

Roman reaches out to push Remus over but another set of sparks comes from his fingers and Remus shrieks. "Ow!"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't—I forgot—are you okay?"

"Yeah, 'm fine." Remus gives himself a good shake and grins maniacally. "See?"

Roman lets out a breath of relief and looks at his fingers again. The sparks are still curling from them, drifting down on the grass. Everywhere they land, the grass fizzles and snaps and turns black.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here right now. I don't wanna burn everything."

"But you don't wanna burn the Mindscape either."

Roman sighs. That is true. "Maybe—maybe we can just—sit? So I don't burn anything?"

"Fine by me. You can tell me what ending you came up with for the story if you want."

He goes to do that but instead yelps at the sudden pain in his fingers. "Uh, maybe not."

"Do you wanna go…tell someone about this?"

"What? No, no, it's fine. Besides," he declares, puffing his chest up, "I'm gonna be a proper dragon when they all see me!"

"Bet I'll finish transforming first."

"Bet you won't!"

"Bet I will!"

 2.

The first time Roman figures out what it is, he almost destroys every single project he's been working on for the last month.

It hadn't been the…easiest of months, that's for sure, but it wasn't like it was the worst one he'd ever had. Sure, he had a lot of projects to do for Thomas but that was his job, he couldn't complain about being able to do his job. It was hard enough convincing everyone that it was worth taking the time to do these projects, he couldn't exactly start complaining about them now. And sure, it wasn't like it was gonna be a one-and-done thing, he had to submit them for everyone to talk about before he could officially pronounce them done, but still.

He's fine.

This is fine.

He's just come from a meeting where Logan was…not too enthusiastic about the amount of time he'd been spending holed up in his room working on things. Well, 'working' on things as Logan put it, was a core element of his, ahem, 'evaluation' of Roman wherein he described exactly how unproductive Roman's time-spent-to-product-shown ratio is.

Two weeks for just one chapter, Roman? In the past, you have managed to complete multiple chapters in the same day. Why have you decided to decrease productivity?

"It's not like I can just push a button and this stuff comes out," Roman grumbles as he goes back to sorting through his desk, "I'm not a machine. Do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go? No, all you care about is whether you can tick the little box that says 'Roman's Dumb Project' off your to-do list."

The other part of it, one that Roman argued for during the meeting, is that he's better now. When he was younger—when Thomas was younger, it was just a matter of getting things down on a page. He wasn't worried about language or narrative or characters, didn't have to hold himself to higher standards because he hadn't made those yet. He's worked to get better at what he does and so now it takes more time.

The problem is that Logan's type of work is the kind that becomes easier when you're better at it, so Logan argued that because he was better, it should be taking less time.

"We're not the same," Roman mutters to himself as he had said downstairs, "you can't hold me to the same degree you hold yourself."

I can, Logan had said as everyone else looked away in silent agreement, and I should. If you don't increase productivity, perhaps we need to reevaluate how we approach projects like this in the future.

"I'll reevaluate your face, how about that?"

He goes to pick up the sheaf of paper that represents all the work he's put into the past month with Logan's comments on it and his fingers twitch.

A single spark touches the paper.

"What? No, no, no!"

It races along the edge, curling into a blackened, ruined husk in a matter of moments. Roman rushes to put it out, get that piece of paper away from the rest, but more sparks keep catching and soon the flames begin to lick at the entire stack. In a blind panic, he flails for his water bottle and empties the contents over the burning pages. The fire dies with a wet sizzle.

Panting, he looks down at his hands. His fingertips are smudged with ash.

And the entire project with Logan's careful annotations sits in a wet, soggy mush.

"Thank god," he mutters to himself, "I took notes."

He waits a few more minutes to ensure he's not about to set fire to anything else and carefully disposes of the now-ruined stack of paper. It slides into the trash with a desolate squishing sound. He decides it's probably a good idea to wait before touching his notebook too.

 3.

The first time he sets fire to a canvas, he knows this isn't a superpower.

Granted, he hasn't really thought that since the Split. The only Sides that had animal-like features and such were the Dark Sides and Roman was Not a Dark Side. He was a Light Side and that meant that he shouldn't tell anyone else about it. But still, privately, just for himself (and maybe a few times in a corner of the Imagination no one but Remus knows about) he pretends that he can summon flame as a superpower.

Not in a 'back now, ye villain!' way or a 'let's see you defeat me when I can do this!' way, but in a quieter way. Maybe that's why he doesn't tell anyone about it, because it doesn't fit with his big arrogant Princely persona.

He pretends he's an old man in a quiet little cave, far away from his kingdom. His cave is filled with soft moss and warm rocks and in the center is a little firepit. When weary travelers come from far and wide, looking for a place to spend the nights, he takes them in and lights his fire, offering simple meals that taste more filling than anything you could ever dream of, and stories to help you fall asleep.

It's a selfish dream, but it's his favorite.

It's been a long week. He's had projects piling up on top of each other and everything seems to need an emergency last draft because apparently people don't understand that when he says I'm finished, that's not an invitation for them to come in and say oh, can you fix this, this, and this? 'Finished' means 'no more edits.' It means 'you've missed your window to tell me there are things you want changed.' It means 'you're the asshole who set this fucking deadline so you don't get to give me more work and then complain that I'm missing deadlines.'

He's a bit upset over it.

The point is he's been working overtime recently trying to get his work in and done and out of the way so he can focus on other things. Namely, all of the other goddamn projects they keep giving him. And finally, finally, he's at the end of the week and everything is done and now, now it's the weekend. Which means it's time for him to do the things he wants to do.

Remus has claimed the Imagination for the day—they each have to go through every month or so and do a spring cleaning of sorts—and so he's in his room, toying with all the things he could work on. He could keep working on that short story he's been putzing around for a while, he could do that crafting thing he's been meaning to do forever…

He looks down at his fingers. They've gone black again. They've started to do that more often now. He absentmindedly rubs them together and they smear across his hand with a slight sting of tender flesh. It reminds him of the ashes in his little firepit and he smiles.

That's what he can do. He can paint his little safe haven.

He summons a large blank canvas and paints, carefully mixing up the colors he wants to use and reaching for a brush. The moment his fingers touch it, he yelps in pain.

The metal rim around the base of the bristles cracks and warps from the heat of the fire. He frowns, trying again, only for the wood to start to smolder and he quickly drops it.

"Alright," he mutters, "maybe different brushes?"

The plastic ones just start to melt and smell horrible. The better wood ones just get way too hot to hold and he has to let them go with stinging palms. Even the littlest ones that he can pinch between two fingers aren't working.

He tries switching mediums. The colored pencils just snap. The markers start to smell so toxic he has to stop for a good ten minutes to fan the fumes away. The oil pastels melt all over his hands and it would be cool if it weren't so frustrating.

In a last-ditch attempt to just do something, he drags his fingers through the paint and grins victoriously when it stays on there. He reaches out to smear it across the canvas and—

He watches in horror as the flames eat through the canvas in a matter of seconds.

The empty wooden frame clatters hollowly to the floor.

 4.

The first time he gets a fever, he knows this is how he experiences burnout.

He's put it together by then. It's oddly poetic—at least it would be if it weren't so infuriating.

But when he wakes up one day with his head pounding and his entire body sweating and feverish, it goes from infuriating to downright torturous.

The fever is relentless, burning him alive one moment—not literally, thank all the gods that have ever been invented and a few that haven't yet—and freezing him the next. He sweats through all of his clothes in what feels like two seconds and half his blankets to boot, and then he's forced to curl back in up in the gross sticky sheets because he feels like he's going to freeze to death. His head has sledgehammers beating against it from all sides and he must start crying from it at one point because he's got tears on his cheeks and a stuffy nose on top of everything else.

He wants someone here. He wants someone to take care of him. He wants someone to kiss his forehead and tell him it's all gonna be okay so bad.

Immediately, his mind goes to the Imagination. Of all the selfish things he indulges in there, the people he's conjured just to take care of them are right near the top of the list.

He thinks of the castle steward, the slightly too-flirty young man with curly hair and a wicked smirk who softens at the first sign of genuine discomfort. He wants him to come and find him like this with some off-hand pickup line about getting even hotter before he calls for a bath to help get his fever down.

He whines as the fever suddenly flares hot again and he shoves the blankets down around his knees.

He thinks of the sweet no-nonsense woman who makes chainmail in the town square and how he just wants her to come say oh, it's alright, love, you'll be alright. He wants her to come make sure he's got enough fluids in him and sit with him, stroking his brow and keeping him focused on resting, not how awful he feels.

The pounding in his head gets worse.

He thinks of the kindly old knight who is one of the few people that actually remembers and how he looks at Roman like he's so proud of him. He wants him to come and just be here, maybe if he's feeling particularly pathetic, he'll cup his face with one gloved hand, kiss his sweaty temple and murmur this too shall pass, my dear boy.

He doesn't realize the ash has spread to his arms until he tries to wipe his face and sees the burning sparks.

It's cruel, he decides in one of his last lucid moments before he succumbs to the fever, that the very things that bring him comfort in his worst moments are the same ones he is to be punished for by the flames.

 5.

The first time the ashes spread to his face, he thinks he might die.

It's not been good. He feels chained to his desk, fingers bound to the keys of the keyboard churning out word after word after word. He's not even sure of their quality anymore, only sure that the number in the corner keeps getting higher and they won't be happy unless it reaches four digits. The work isn't even fun anymore. It's just a chore. The ideas that once ran around his brain with boundless energy have vanished.

Burned to a crisp.

He's stopped wearing his prince costume. The ash just gets on the white immediately and it's so hard to clean. He wears ratty old T-shirts now because no one will notice if they're a little more threadbare than they were when he started. The ash trails all over his pants, his desk, his computer, up his arms and across his torso.

He thinks hysterically that he can see his fingers getting shorter with the amount of ash he keeps losing.

The fever never really goes away. He keeps a hot water bottle and a bowl full of ice next to him as he works, either to put on his lap when his fingers tremble from the cold or to stick in his mouth when he can't breathe from the heat. His typing will grow clumsy and he has to force himself to go back and fix his typos, lest he forget and accidentally submit them to the others.

It hurts. There's nothing poetic or glamorous about it. It just really fucking hurts.

When he drags himself to the bathroom too many times for how few words he's written, he stops.

There, in the mirror. His face…

He's run out of words to describe it. He just looks at his face covered in ashes and cries.

That hurts too.

 +1.

The first time the others come to take care of him, he thinks he's dreaming.

He thinks he's dreaming when he hears Patton quietly go oh, sweetheart, and gentle hands reach for him and adjust the covers around his head. They tuck back the blankets just enough so he can breathe easier and the softest kiss presses to the tip of his nose. It's okay, sweetheart, we're here now.

He thinks he's dreaming when he feels Virgil's arms hook under his and lift him up so he can carry him to the bathroom. Easy, Princey, it's okay. We're gonna get you in the bath, okay? You're a mess right now. The strong chest next to his cheek feels soft and he can't help trying to nuzzle into it. Shh, it's okay, bud, I gotcha.

He thinks he's dreaming when he hears Logan's voice instructing quietly how to make him better. The water will feel cold to you but it isn't. You've got to let it do its work and help break that fever, alright? Strong and sure hands wipe the tears from his cheeks and he just keeps crying. Hush now, little one, it's alright. We're right here.

He thinks he's dreaming when he feels a soft washcloth brushing against his face, his neck, down his arms and legs. The smell of Janus's favorite body wash fills his nose as an almost hypnotic whisper fills his ears. Shh, shh, my prince, don't you fret. We'll take care of you.

He thinks he's dreaming when it apparently comes time to get him out of the bath and Remus is there, tentacles and all, drying him off with a soft fluffy towel and getting him into a clean shirt and boxers. You're such a mess, Roro. I love you so much.

He thinks he's dreaming, but then he remembers that it hurts to dream right now.

He thinks—he thinks—

"…Re?"

"Roro? Ro-bro, can you hear me?"

"'S that you?"

"Yeah, Roro, it's me. I'm right here. Oh, fuck, I'm right here, you're doing so good, okay? It's gonna be okay, we're right here."

"Easy, Remus, you're gonna freak him out more. Calm down, bud."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down, Roman's—"

"Still not out of the woods, so shush."

He blinks, trying to figure out what's going on. Someone with glasses leans over him.

"Roman? Can you hear me, little one?"

"L'gan?"

"Yes, that's me." He can't be imagining the relief in Logan's voice. "Your fever's broken but we need to get you to drink something. Have you been able to keep things down?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Janus—"

"Right here." A cool hand supports his head and another guides something to his lips. "Your favorite flavor, sweetie, we need to get your electrolytes back up."

He drinks. A hand strokes his throat to help him swallow. By the time it's pulled away from him, he feels a little bit more human.

"Good," Janus whispers, his hands still cradling Roman's body, "good job, sweetie."

"Kiddo? Can you look at me?"

It takes a moment, but Roman manages to open his eyes, turning his head to try and find Patton. Patton smiles when he does it, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"You're gonna be okay," he says in that firm voice that brokers no argument, "you will. I know it might not seem like it right now, but you're gonna be okay."

"…yeah?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he promises, "you're gonna be okay."

For the first time, in perhaps a very, very long time, a different spark flares to life inside Roman's chest.

Hope.

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[forgottenfeesh]

I really really want Logan to be the orange side cause I think that would be way cooler than he’s just being influenced to be angry and actually make the moment he snaps and fully embraces it meaningful.

So here’s my complied proof I’m desperately hoping isn’t just jumbled nonsense my brain put together! Also no I’m not using any of the more obvious evidence cause my brain don’t work that way.

why does Logan have good reflexes then immediately lies about it.

Since Thomas has seen all the other sides beforehand and it’s surprising to him that we can assume that none of the other sides have demonstrated this so it isn’t just an added benefit into being Thomas’s phyce.

And this doesn’t seem like the face of someone who wants to show off, it just seems like it’s natural reaction for him. So this might be actually due to his reflexes.

So why does Thomas’s s Logic need quick reactions? I can’t really see Logan getting Thomas into fights or fighting those same fights for Thomas and he certainly isn’t impulsive. And if you think about reflexs in the baseline they don’t exactly side with Logic but instead impulse.

It doesn’t help either when Logan purposely lies about it in the next scene.

Because as the audience we know that he didn’t have any coffee he instead he replaced it all with wine (I really love the gag of Logan canonically being an alcoholic btw) which if anything would lessen Logan’s reflexes. So he obviously realises he’s not supposed to do that.

Also thinking back. Logan always seems to try to make a big deal that he can’t catch stuff so maybe that’s just an elaborate ruse anyhoo onto the other one.

Why Logan automatically retorts but then later lies about not being good at said retorts (You wrote a spiteful rap song about someone Logan, embrace it)

Here we have him seemingly automatically retorting to Romans insults which again shows his impulsive nature which is a really odd nature of a purely logical side to be.

Add then immediately lies about it and try’s to thinly ignore and hide said impulsivity.

Meaning he knows logic shouldn’t be offended by it and should take the figurative high road but he can’t. He name calls and gets on Romans level.

Excess proof

1) Anger does in real life take the form of logic at first, it starts off as seemingly reasonable assumptions.

Example- Margret must of took my lunch as she was the only one in the office at that time and since I made it and have been looking fordward too it all day while she had quite a bit today, I shall like to have a word.

But after a while all sense of logic degrades into doing illogical activities on the base of logic

Example- MARGRET YOU WITCH I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT LUNCH ALL YEAR AND SPENT HOURS TIRELESSLY COOKING IT! (Notice how the straight facts haven’t been removed only exaggerated)

2) Like a certain someone’s current arch and it would make sense as in my opinion see Virgil as Logan’s opposite as he’s the end of logic that’s all about worrying about the facts and endlessly listing them while anger is on Logan’s side of actually doing something with those same facts and since Logic’s dark side is now light what happens to the other side in logic?

3) The point to debunk this argument is usually pattons eyes going orange when he was a frog but what if that was a side effect of Logan blowing up off screen.

As in moving on and now dealing with intrusive thoughts we see Thomas gets, possessed influenced by Logan, (Which is what anger does blinding its victims in anger and influencing them to do things they wouldn’t normally) which begs the question what does to the sides, could it perhaps idk make one a tad more spiteful, maybe even making them finally lose their patience (exact thing that happens with lillypatton/ Patton in selfishness v selflessness part 2) espically since Logan was especially angry with the others before this scend and after Janus seems more defensive over him maybe he lost it off screen and Pattons orange eyes reflect that it’s due to him being affected by logins anger. Didn’t happen last 2 times as were either off screen or in place completely flooded with pattons emotions.

4) We like to think we all have a middle, perfect, guiding voice in our heads but most of us don’t it’s part of being human, which is why he has 2 colours because Thomas choice to only view him as only Logic, despite him being something completely different in the long term. I’m fact you could even say.

[beauty-and-passion]

I've said before how much I love the concept of the Faint Ones. Just so so cool and unique. But I'm curious about something; is there any situation where the other sides/thomas could potentially learn about them? If they gained enough strength to ascend from the bottom like was mentioned in the possble tyrant path Patton could have gone down. Would that lead to a higher awareness of their existence from the other sides? Things in the mindscape would certainly shift after that, but I'm doubting it would lead to a reveal like that.

From your fics it seemed to be hinted that the Others' awareness, minus Janus because he knows, he HAS to, might be more than the Core sides. Logan has his own "I know something is going on there but Janus is a being evasive" awareness. I don't think Roman would know anything about the Faint Ones, or that they exist. Perhaps Patton has an inkling, but doesn't pursue it. I can't imagine a scenario where Janus would let ANY of that information loose. I mean, he just wouldn't. No way.

BUT, since you are the one who came up with this fascinating concept, I'm curious as to your thoughts and hypothetically, if the other sides DID find out, how would that go?

Feel free to answer what you'd like, or not at all, I understand if you don't want to give certain details away since this is one of the somethings you seem to be buildling upon in your world of Sanders Sides fics and headcannons and what not. Or whatever other reason there may be! I hope you're day is going well! :)

Hi, dear! Oh, do not worry, I am always super happy to reply to all questions you have! They're always so interesting! And I am more than happy to talk about the Faint Ones, I would've never imagined you enjoyed this idea so much :D

And speaking of them... well, let's say that when I started writing this reply, I put down everything and stuff I had in might for a long time too and I was like: "ah yes, I really wanted to write a fanfic about this, but never got a thread... but hey, maybe if I put together this and this and that... hey, maybe I have a thread!"

And so, I found a thread. And that means I can write the sequel of A Canticle In Steps. And that means I wrote it. Yes, I wrote it the past week. Yes, it's done. Yes, it will be translated and posted soon.

So... well, thank you for giving me the inspiration to write a sequel that is not endlessly long, for allowing me to put on paper things I had in my mind only and for letting me enjoy the dark sides being a family. I am very weak for them as always, Your Honor.

All of this to say that there are some informations I can't divulge yet, so have fun with what I can say now :P

__________________________

Do the Core Sides know about the Faint Ones?

The Core Sides don't know about them. All they know is that there are some dangers in the Unconscious (which is not false) and they know some things are more dangerous than others.

But that's all. They have no idea that there is something more dangerous than all those "minor" dangers.

When he was a child, Logan had the closest encounter a Core Side ever had with the Faint Ones. From his point of view, he heard some voices, which took control over him and pushed him to go down and reach them. However, thanks to Janus' intervention, he never came close enough to actually see the Faint Ones.

Still, the event left him a terrible impression: not in the form of a logical thought, but as a visceral feeling, the feeling of escaping from certain death.

Since it's not something he can logically explain, Logan doesn't talk to anyone about it. Still, every time he tries to reach the Unconscious, he subconsciously tries to always keep a safe distance.

He doesn't know what that "thing" was (and Janus never told him), so over the years, he came to the conclusion it was a big danger among all the dangers of the Unconscious. Maybe a particularly big one, but he doesn't know it's THE biggest one.

Or, at least, he doesn't know on a conscious level. But the mere fact his own body reacts by wanting to keep him at a safe distance, means that he realized (at least subconsciously) that what he met was a danger greater than any other.

__________________________

Do the Others know about the Faint Ones?

The Others live in the Unconscious, so they are aware the place is full of dangers - and they regularly fight them to subdue/keep them down.

Virgil doesn't know about the Faint Ones. He has always been more attracted by the Conscious and Janus prefers to keep his attention away from the depths of the mind.

According to my headcanon, Orange aka Anger doesn't know either. He knows Janus is very powerful and he suspects there should be a reason for having such a powerful Side in the mind. He also suspects the Unconscious hides bigger dangers and Janus keeps them away from said dangers. But nope, he never saw them. He just suspects.

While Remus is a different story, so you'll have to wait ;)

__________________________

Is there a way for the Sides to reach the Faint Ones?

Well, theoretically they are in one place, so if a Side wants to see them, all he has to do is to reach that place. And that means the Side has to go down into the Unconscious, past Orange's, Virgil's and Remus' room, deeper into the mind, until he reaches the Faint Ones.

But of course it's not easy to reach that place, because:

The mind itself is so big and layered to make it very, VERY hard to reach the Faint Ones down in the abyss

The Unconscious is full of dangers and obstacles that are not on the same levels as Faint Ones, but are strong enough to stop a Side

There is a guardian for a reason and the guardian knows everything that happens everywhere. And no, going past the guardian or defeating him is impossible: the mind made Janus stronger than all other Sides for a reason

__________________________

Is there a way for the Sides to know about the Faint Ones?

The only one who knows is Janus and Janus has no intention to talk about them with any other Side.

__________________________

What about Thomas?

Thomas is not aware on a conscious level. But subconsciously, he is. The mind is his own, after all.

However, this is one part of the mind it's much better he never becomes consciously aware of.

Why? Because if this happens, that means Thomas killed someone, had a mental breakdown or, in general, faced such a huge trauma, to break his mind.

__________________________

What if a Side knows about them?

Sadly, that wouldn't lead to any awareness of their existence, but rather to death.

Which kind of death? Well, I will give a hint in the fanfiction so, again, you have to wait. I'll just say that it's an extremely valid reason for the mind to have a powerful guardian :P