#Im normal about this (lies and deceit) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carouselofrats · 3 years

Text

All for the Best (No It Isn’t)

“Oh, how I pity you, Roman.” He chuckled, turning his back to the Side and feeling his own eyes begin to water as he lost control. The Lord of the Lies was only so good. It felt physically painful to walk out the door as he heard Roman break out into sobs behind him.

You’ll never get to hold him in your arms.

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Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32061952

Pairing: Roceit

Word Count: 2017

CW: Janus has a panic attack but he gets comforted don’t worry :)

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Janus wasn’t sure exactly when he’d fallen in love with Roman. All he knew was that at some point, over all of the theatre scenarios and courtroom flirting, he’d fallen head over heels in love with the wonderfully dramatic prince. It was terrifying, to suddenly care so much for another. Because of this, it was both a comforting and depressing fact that he could never act on his feelings. For one, Virgil would kill him. He was already suspicious and hateful enough of the snake, he didn’t even want to consider the backlash that would come if he tried to romance Virgil’s best friend. I used to be his best friend .

There were times, of course, where he did wish for more. When the light of the imagination’s stage caught Roman’s face at the perfect angle while they traded lines; When they accidentally brushed hands or shoulders while talking over one of Roman’s scripts and he had to force himself not to linger; When Roman had had a nightmare and chosen to come to his room for comfort.

He finally reached the other facet’s door and knocked politely, as he’d become delightfully accustomed to doing over the past few months. There was a shuffling on the other side before a visibly nervous Roman opened the door.

“Hey Jan! Come on in, sit wherever you’d like!” Okay, now he was nervous. Something was off, very off.

Janus sat down on the corner of Roman’s bed, glancing around the familiar brightness of his love’s friend’s room. Roman gently sat next to him, causing the deceitful Side’s gaze to snap to him. Roman sighed.

“I asked you here today to tell you something important.” Janus’ heart clenched. Please don’t be what I hope think it is.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while. We’ve had a rocky friendship, what with all of the stuff Thomas’s gone through, but I'm so happy that we got to the point we’re at now. You’ve become so incredibly important to me, Jan. It’s incredible how passionate you are about your role--and that’s coming from the literal embodiment of passion--and how much you care, even though you don’t like everybody to know it.” Roman chuckled a bit, Janus giving an exhale of amusement as well as the fear in his heart grew.

“I guess what im trying to say…” Please, god, yes no. “...is that I’m in love with you, Janus.” No. No, no, no.

Roman’s nervous yet earnest gaze travelled up from his lap, where it had drifted earlier, to Janus, searching for his reaction. Janus had short-circuited, his entire body frozen.

No no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. How could he possibly love you? You can’t say you feel the same, no matter how much you want to, you know that. You’ve already hurt him before, if you tell him it’ll happen again and then you’ll really lose him and he’ll never look at you with his beautiful eyes or smile at you with his beautiful smile ever again. He can’t really love you. Just let him lose his infatuation. It can’t be real love. It might hurt him now but it will be way better than what you would inevitably end up doing to him.

No one could ever love you.

Janus forced his face into a smirk and his voice into something stable. He allowed the mask of the villain to slip over his face. You’ve always been the villain.

“Oh, Roman. You really have fallen, haven’t you?” he crooned. Hurt confusion slowly seeped into Romans face. He desperately pushed down the flash of guilt he felt.

“What are you talking about, Jan?” Roman spoke, his voice quiet and hurt.

“Did you really think that I could ever love you?” Janus hurt laughed. Roman’s eyes began to water, tears slowly falling down his cheeks. Janus stood up, forcing his hand not to shake as he patted Roman’s shoulder for the last time.

As soon as Roman’s door was safely shut behind him, Janus sank out to his room, collapsing on the bed as sobs overtook him. It’s better this way, he tried to tell himself, he can get over it quicker and you’ll save him the heartbreak. It’s fine. Everything is fine. His heart, which felt like it was physically burning, said otherwise. Janus could barely bring himself to move, weakly shoving his shoes off and wrapping himself in his blankets as he sat there, sobbing. At some point his hat had fallen off. He didn’t care. He lost track of time, trying to tell himself that it was all for the best, you’ll get over it, though he knew he wouldn’t.

Suddenly, Janus heard his door burst open. He was filled with the urge to make himself presentable or even look up but he only succeeded in reducing his sobbing into a gasping panic.

“Why the fuck would you do that to Roman you- Dec- Janus? What the-” the intruder spoke. Janus’ panic only increased and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe help

Of course, it had to be Virgil. Now he knows and he’s seen you vulnerable. You fuck everything up, don’t you? Can’t go one day without hurting somebody else you stupid, ugly snake.

“Oh shit.” He felt the bed dip.

“Can I touch you?” Janus breathed rapidly, flinching when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, just calm down, Jay. Breathe in for four.” Janus tried, gasping, only succeeding after multiple attempts.

“You’re doing great. Now hold your breath for seven.” He did the same again.

“Okay, now out for eight.”

The process repeated until Janus could breathe somewhat normally again. He finally lifted his head up from his knees, feeling pitiful, to look at Virgil. After a few seconds of silence, the anxious trait spoke.

“What- What happened?” Silence.

“Did… did you reject Roman even though you like him back, Janus?”

His sniffling quickly turned to sobbing again as he threw himself into Virgil’s arms, the Side swiftly hugging him back once he got over the shock. Janus’ other arms came out too, gripping the other like a lifeline.

“I had to- he doesn’t- he doesn’t want me. I’ll h-hurt him. Just like in the courtroom. O-or when I c-called him the evil twin. Like- like I did with you,” his voice shrank to a whisper.

“It- it just hurts so bad. Make it go away, make it go away.” He gripped Virgil’s hoodie tightly, sobbing harshly once again. He felt Virgil’s chest rumbling but he heard no words. Suddenly, Virgil started to get up, detaching Janus’ hands from his hoodie. He curled back in on himself.

He’s probably gone to tell the others how pathetic you are.

A few minutes passed, Janus only calming himself slightly. He heard a few sets of footsteps enter his doorway. They’ve come to laugh at you. The bed abruptly dipped beside him and a new set of arms wrapped around him. He opened his eyes and saw a white and gold sleeve. He froze.

“Roman?” He spoke in a small voice.

“Shh, it’s okay, darling. You’re ok.” Roman spoke, rubbing circles into Janus’ back. His voice was thick with emotion, he’d obviously been crying and Janus’ heart crushed with guilt at the notion, more tears and gasps leaving him. He began rambling apologies, all six of his arms wrapping around Roman like they had Virgil.

“I’m so sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Roman shushed the snake as he spoke, holding him tighter. “I never thought you’d feel the same way so I just b-bottled it up and then when you t-told me I didn’t know what to- to do and I’m so sorry”

Roman suddenly stilled. “So you really do? Love me back?”

Janus had run out of tears, left occasionally gasping for air. He leaned back and sat up, looking Roman in the eye and nodding before sheepishly looking away. Roman put his hands on Janus’ shoulders, causing the Side to stare back at him.

“Why did you lie about it, my love?” he spoke, his eyes full of earnest concern and love.

“I- you don’t want me. I-I’ll hurt you again. I always hurt them. And then they leave. I c-can’t-” but Virgil, who had been awkwardly watching the emotional exchange from the doorway, spoke up.

“We both hurt each other, Jay. It wasn’t all your fault.”

“Oh.” Janus leaned back against Roman as his thoughts swirled rapidly in his head. “Does this mean… that I can love you? I promise I’ll never try to hurt you and-”

Roman cut off Janus’ rambling with a kiss. Oh. Oh. Maybe Roman really did love him after all.

“Okay! Um, everything seems under control here so I’m gonna go,” Virgil hastily exited, closing the door behind him.

They pulled away from each other, both smiling. Janus wiped some of the leftover tears from his eyes, frowning at the wet marks on his gloves.

“I guess I’ve really ruined my reputation in front of you, huh?” Janus gave a light chuckle.

“Your big, tough reputation was ruined for me the moment you showed me your Scooby-Doo collection, you big nerd.” Roman teased affectionately.

“Like your Disney movie collection is any better!” Janus quipped back, Roman batting at his arm in retaliation.

“At least I have a variety to pick from!”

“At least my room isn’t a shrine to a billion dollar corporation.”

“My room only has 101 Disney posters! That’s not that many!”

“Maybe in your opinion.”

“Well, at least I don’t walk around in Hufflepuff-colored garb everyday!”

“I’m severely wounded, you take that back right now Roman Romano Sanders.”

“I refuse!”

“I can feel the dishonor of your insult burning me. I’m dying.”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“I can see the light now.”

“Okay, fine! I'll take it back!”

“Nope, too late. I’m already in the afterlife. No, wait, I’m in Hell. It burns! It burns so much! But…”

“But what?”

“Nothing can ever burn me more than your insult! The shame! The shame…”

“Will you stop it if I finally agree to let you show me Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated?”

“Suddenly I’m alive! They sent me back.”

“Mhm.”

“They said that all of you were just so lost without me. Especially you, my dear Braveheart.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?”

Roman pulled Janus in for another kiss, both of them sighing contentedly. In that moment, everything was perfect. Neither could wait for the many more perfect moments sure to come.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sides #ts janus #janus sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #roceit #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

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aliferous-ly · 5 years

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I've never really asked for a drabble before... If it's okay with you, could you do 7 "I almost lost you" and 32 "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified" with Logan and Deceit? I just kinda thought that it had the potential to make some angst with a happy ending. Oh and I only found you recently, but I love the writing that I've seen so far. I always love finding amazing writers. (I'm sorry, I'm a total suck up)

im gonna start this with if you’re on mobile, i am So Sorry

i started this and was like “ha im getting a little carried away” and then went “oh no”

and thank u dear!! that’s v sweet of u awe

summary: Declan is a loud and proud aromantic. Then he realizes why he feels weird, and off, and awkward around his best friend, Logan, and his world starts to crumble.

warnings: f word twice, lying, parent being imprisoned, angst, questioning identity, if there’s anything else lmk!!

It starts, Declan thinks, when Logan smiles.

The situation starts out innocuous -- they’re sitting in Logan’s room, Declan tossing a tennis ball up and catching it unsuccessfully, making a right disaster of Logan’s room with all the objects he keeps knocking to the floor. Logan, naturally, continues doing his homework.

And they’re just -- talking.

Declan likes to think his world should shift on a more momentous occasion, maybe with fireworks, fingers brushing against one another dramatically, Jason Mraz playing in the background.

But it’s the smallest thing. Declan throws the tennis ball up in the middle of his sentence -- “You can’t tell me you hate white pines, they have the softest needles” -- and he misses it on the way down.

So he takes a tennis ball to the face and sits up, sputtering, rubbing at his nose, arm reaching out to snatch it before it rolls too far.

Logan chokes out a laugh, eyes squinty and wrinkled at the edges. His laugh fills the room for a few thrilling moments and Declan thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world and he can’t stop staring at Logan’s engaging face, in the upturn of his lips and dimples carved in his cheeks.

He’s radiant.

Declan’s heart squeezes, lungs filling with something heavier than air, a foreign feeling washing through his veins. Like rose petals or sunlight. Woodsmoke or freshly fallen snow.

The gears in his chest shift and settle and he feels… right. More right than he’s ever been.

Which is, of course, why fear swiftly follows this gorgeous wash of emotions, because this is unusual and anything unusual is often bad.

Declan forces down the incoming wave of anxiety, schooling his expression into one of smooth disdain.

Just in time, too, because Logan opens his mouth and says, “It was only a matter of time until you paid for your crimes.”

“I’m too pretty to die,” Declan replies, thanking the heavens that while his brain may be steadily turning into mush (have Logan’s eyes always been that striking? Or his shoulders that broad?) his tongue still works.

“Implying Death themself has a type, intriguing,” Logan says. He flashes a look over his computer, the after effects of joy still written on his features. “Bold of you to declare what Death likes.”

Declan tries for a smirk but can feel the way his mouth turns to genuine grin, the traitor. “Aw, Logie, are you saying I’m not everyone’s type?”

“That would be rather ironic, wouldn’t it?” Logan says wryly. He types away at his computer, dutiously finishing an English assignment that Declan is currently ignoring for bigger and better things. “The aromantic everyone pines over.”

That strikes an odd chord in Declan’s chest, like he’s a half-tone off; not quite wrong, but not quite right, either. His expression must change, because Logan pauses in his typing. He blinks at Declan. “Something wrong?”

Of course, that’s when Declan’s brain decides that those words are simply too much, too much, his shoulders tightening, back tensing. It’s like his rib cage is squeezing his vital organs, which seems rather counterintuitive. He hates this unknown, this awkward buzz against his skin, the prickling feeling through his bones.

The resounding crash of everything happening all at once is overwhelming and Declan can’t seem to decide whether to sit as still as humanly possible or bolt.

Or, of course, do what he does best.

Lie.

“I forgot to do something for my mom,” Declan says, barely registering the words before they fall from his lips. He hasn’t lied to Logan in a very, very long time (he knows it’s because they have been best friends for ages, but his mind twists it into something of a foreshadow, even though it’s not, it’s not) and the resurgence of his bad habits leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, but. Desperate times. Desperate measures.

“Oh,” Logan says, disappointed, and Declan longs to explain -- what?

He angrily shoves the emotions deep into his chest. If he can’t explain them, he’s not going to give them the right of control over his actions.

(He ignores the prevalent fact that he has just lied to his best friend in order to escape his presence, but denial, evidently, is not just a river in Egypt).

“Sorry,” Declan spits out, meaning so much more than it seems. He stands, grabs his backpack, shoving papers and folders into it haphazardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Logan calls out hollowly. Declan takes that as his leave and he slips out Logan’s bedroom door, backpack in tow, keys clicking in his pocket.

Something deep inside him aches. But he doesn’t know why.

Frustrated, Declan gets into his car and slams the door shut, fingers white-knuckled against the steering wheel. He takes a breath. He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s probably just sick, or something.

Or something.

Not for the first time, Declan longs for a working aux connection.

Because flicking through radio stations does not help.

Lewis Capaldi croons Someone you loved on one, Sam Smith singing Dancing with a Stranger. He woefully flips through two channels on commercial break, groaning when the last one has Adele, which, really?

He remembers Virgil’s favorite station, and turns up the volume to forty, My Chemical Romance’s Mama screaming from his speakers. He pulls into his driveway with Hallelujah by Panic! at the Disco blowing his ears out when he remembers that Logan once spent hours rambling about Brenden Urie and a conspiracy about curses and he slams his palms on his steering wheel, furious.

Can he not escape Logan for a moment?

As Declan slams the car door shut, throwing his backpack over his shoulders, and freezes at the sight of the stupid Beware, dog sign that Logan had vandelized to read Beware, snake, he realizes that no, he really can’t. Because Logan is his best friend, his favorite person, and his life is irreversibly intertwined with Logan unless he up and leaves with absolutely nothing, starting from scratch. Which would be worse than death.

He trudges up the stairs like a funeral dirge and when his door shuts with a click he leans against it, steadily sliding down until his knees almost touch his chin.

“Fuck,” Declan says out loud, unable to keep the emotion termoil inside like it should be.

His phone buzzes where it fell from his hands, angry against the carpet. Declan sighs. Rubs a hand down his face. And picks up the phone.

There’s one text from Logan that reads, “are you okay? I’m not irritated but you left rather…”

Well. The beginning reads as such. Declan assumes there’s more, but he’s unwilling to open it for the time being.

Then he has three from Virgil, two of which reference an obscure meme video and the third which reads “r u home i wanna play dark souls on ur ps4”.

And there’s a text from Patton asking if he wants normal chocolate chips or mint ones, and a followup that proclaims “never mind i got both! :3c”.

He sends a quick “no” back to Virgil and merely opens the texts from Patton, leaving only Logan’s unopened. I’m not irritated but you left rather… suddenly?

A strange emotion flutters about Declan’s chest and he groans. He doesn’t feel this way about his other friends, not even Virgil, who he’s known for ages and has gone through four too many devastating arguments to not be close with. Nor does he feel like this with Patton, his brother. Those bonds are, he’s certain, platonic--

Declan lurches forwards with a gasp, the realization bowling him over and leaving him breathless. He curls his fingers into the carpet, focusing on the texture instead of the immediate swirl of panic.

He -- does he have a crush on Logan? Him, Declan, the aromantic king, who once boasted the world could never produce a human Declan could fall in love with?

And it doesn’t track with him falling for Logan either because Declan would have loved him months earlier, suddenly falling in love with someone he’s loved platonically… it just doesn’t make sense. Declan can’t wrap his mind around it.

Maybe he’s just reading the emotions wrong. How can he -- what can he do that -- which --

What would Logan do?

An experiment, Declan’s mind supplies helpfully, so, well. Declan pressed his back against the wood of his door and thinks.

Hypothesis: he’s in love with Logan.

In love? A very rational part of his brain yells. You were talking about a crush before!

So Declan thinks, and revises. Hypothesis: he’s feeling romantic attraction to Logan.

Then he takes a few minutes trying to remember the following step in the scientific method and ends up looking it up on his phone, and it’s really long so he’s just going to cut some corners.

Procedure:

Well, Declan can’t think of any way to do this physically without making an entire fool of himself, so he changes the experiment into a thought experiment.

Procedure: Consider emotions of other relationships and compare to feelings for Logan.

Okay. Declan settles. He considers. He tries to imagine holding hands with Virgil and giving him flowers, but he can’t really picture giving Logan flowers either, so if it’s weird for both -- but he wants to hold Logan’s hand, not Virgil’s, and sometimes Patton’s, and Patton is his brother, he knows for sure his emotions are strictly platonic. So if Patton is the control group, the certainty of platonic emotions, Virgil is the one with normal emotions, and Logan has some weird emotions, so if Virgil and Logan’s are merely two different shades of friendship then Declan will know.

Declan closes his eyes and imagines kissing Logan, because that’s what romantic partners do, right? He imagines stepping closer to him until there’s inches of space between them.. Declan thinks about leaning in, brushing lips before pressing in, heat curling in his chest and oh god, oh god Declan’s face is on fire.

His eyes shoot open and he can only imagine how panicked he must look right now. He presses his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths. Then, reluctantly, he thinks about kissing Virgil -- nope, nope, eugh he physically shakes his head, gut rolling uncomfortably.

So that is a big contender for Declan has romantic feelings for Logan.

He sighs and clunks his head against the door. This sucks. Declan hates feelings.

The door downstairs sounds, opening and closing, followed by a resounding, “HEY, CICI, LOVE YOU!”

Dee sighs, a smile flickering across his face. He pushes to his feet and exits his room, wandering downstairs, aloof.

“Hey Pat,” he says, leaning against a wall.

“Ci, I’m making lots of cookies!” Patton declares, beaming at him, and Declan’s heart drops.

His expression must, too, because Patton’s features are suddenly painted in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that,” Declan says, and he feels bad, unexpectedly, for not replying to Patton’s text earlier. “Lots of cookies? With mint and chocolate chips? Enough to feed an army?”

Patton’s arms wilt and Declan reads the tremor in his shoulders, the glisten of his eyes. Patton tries for a smile and misses by a mile.

Declan crosses to where Patton stands in five steps, wrapping his arms around his smaller brother, pressing his cheek against Patton’s head. “What’s wrong?”

Patton takes a shuddering breath, returning the hug. “Nothing, really. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ah,” Declan says. He tightens his grip on Patton. “Do you want help?”

“No.” Patton presses his face into Declan’s chest. He’s shaking, ever so slightly. “Can you talk with me at the counter, though?”

“Of course,” Declan agrees, mentally side-tabling his emotional turmoil.

“Okay,” Patton says. He’s quiet for a few more moments, then says, “And Steven Universe later?”

“Anything,” Declan says. He makes a face. The word had slipped out unbidden, but Patton doesn’t tease him for it.

“Alright.” Patton pulls away, takes a breath. “I’m about to make the best damn cookies the world has ever seen.”

“Damn straight,” Declan says, grinning. Patton pauses for just one moment more before moving to the kitchen, dropping various ingredients onto the counter and moving smoothly to gather more.

Declan wonders at his influence on Patton’s vulgar mouth, then shrugs. Patton’s a teenager. He can do what he wants.

“Weren’t you hanging out with Logan?” Patton asks conversationally. He’s pulling down bowls and sugar, obviously expecting easy small talk. And normally Logan is easy for Declan to talk about. He talks about him all the time.

So when Declan winces, Patton turns and addresses him with full attention, brows furrowed. “What? What happened?”

“I…” Declan considers for a moment to just lie about it but dismisses the thought. This is Patton. “I think I have a romantic attraction for him.”

Saying it out loud only cements the certainty in Declan’s chest. No, he hasn’t quite completed the experiment, but he just… knows.

The knowledge is both relieves and spikes his anxiety about the whole situation.

“Oh,” Patton says, eyes wide. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Declan says honestly.

“Alright,” Patton says. He turns back around and a wave of affection flows through Declan. “How did Roman do on his audition?”

Declan hums, eternally grateful for Patton’s ability to turn the conversation away. They talk about Roman’s skill as an actor for a few minutes, jumping to Patton’s involvement in VEX robotics (focusing on the robotics instead of the people) and they kill about forty minutes with Patton talking about his baby bot, Pat Jr.

When the clock strikes seven, Declan throws together two grilled cheese sandwiches and they eat in front of Steven Universe and the gems, Declan stretched out along the couch and Patton creating a throne of blankets for himself.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Patton murmurs, eyes never straying from the bursts of pastel on the screen, “but if you do have a romantic attraction to Logan it’s okay. You weren’t wrong in saying you’re aromantic. Because that fits you, you like it. There’s just more strings attached than you originally thought.”

Declan blinks, the smallest smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Pat.”

Patton hugs a pillow, eyes bright. “Love you, Ci.”

Declan pushes his foot against Patton’s blanket pile in response.

“Do you think we have to move?” Patton says, three hours into their movie night.

Declan breathes, slowly inhaling as if it gives him an excuse to not reply. “I didn’t. I don’t want to. But probably.”

“That’s why you haven’t told anyone,” Patton says. He shifts, turning to look at Declan. Declan maintains eye contact with the screen, despite having seen this movie countless times. “And why you told me to keep it under wraps.”

“Yes,” Declan says, because really, he lies to the world, but he doesn’t lie to Patton.

He tries not to lie to Patton.

“But something changed yesterday.” Patton’s not asking questions. Somehow, he just knows, despite being left out of the loop. “And you were going to tell Logan today.”

“Yes,” Declan says. Static thrums through his veins. Aladdin ignores a buzzing genie on screen, swatting him away to benefit his own desires.

“What happened?”

“Mom’s not getting out,” Declan says simply, because that’s it, really. Their mother is not getting out of jail. And with no father, their final hope is their uncle, three states over. Their father’s brother.

Two months away from eighteen, and Declan is forced to concede.

“When?” Patton asks. He’s trembling, but he’s not crying. Declan knows that will come later.

“Because of the legal mixups and leaning on Sasha, two weeks, probably,” Declan says. Sasha is, of course, their next door neighbor, the crazy cat lady of the street who “watches” the boys “all the time”.

“Two weeks,” Patton whispers. There’s a sheen in his eyes. Declan tries not to look but his gaze is like a magnet and Patton stares, stares, stares. “That’s not enough time. That’s not…”

Declan closes his eyes.

He really thought he would win.

He thought he could win.

They only had to last two more months. His deadbeat mom had to last two months and they couldn’t even keep the legal proceedings--

He takes a breath. “Uncle Thomas is nice, at least.”

“I don’t want uncle Thomas,” Patton snaps.

“Well we don’t have a choice, Pat,” Declan bites out, stomach rolling at the words, eyes snapping open.

Patton recoils, hurt flickering behind his eyes, but Declan knows it’s not enough to overpower the fire roaring in Patton’s lungs. “We did, we could have put more savings into mom’s defense, we could have found a place to live before it was our last resort but now we have to tell all our friends that we’re moving hundreds of miles away in two weeks!”

“Mom doesn’t deserve to get out,” Declan spits.

“I don’t CARE.” Patton’s fingers are clenched in fists. He stands. “I don’t care if mom deserves it or not. We deserve to stay.”

“The world doesn’t work like that,” Declan says.

Patton opens his mouth and snaps it shut, obviously restraining himself. A thousand emotions swim behind his eyes. Declan hates every single moment but he doesn’t say a word.

He leaves.

He leaves Declan sitting alone on the couch, watching Patton’s favorite movie. A door slams shut and Declan exhales heavily. They don’t get into fights, it’s just not -- Patton’s normally too upbeat to bother, Patton hates being angry, Declan normally doesn’t -- there’s nothing to get angry about, not in the grand scheme of things. They share easily, they have chaotic conversations, they…

They’re fighting.

Declan buries his head in his hands. He was too hopeful, too caught up on the possibility of the future to notice the sinkhole of reality.

He really thought -- things would work out, Patton has his lucky charm of a personality and Declan works, he works hard, so things should -- Declan’s a senior in high school, halfway through the first semester, he should be worried about grades and school dances and friends and crushes and --

Logan.

Declan curls, releasing something like a sob or maybe a dry heave. Whether or not he’s in love with Logan (most signs point to yes but there’s no way Declan’s addressing that) he still loves Logan, he loves being with him and talking to him and ordering his ice cream before Logan gets there to see the surprised and fond expression cross his face.

Two weeks?

To say goodbye to his best friend?

Before moving, before picking up his entire life and his family (just -- Patton. Just Patton) and going somewhere Else?

Declan doesn’t feel like an adult.

He doesn’t want to be an adult, either.

Even if the world is asking him to be one.

“You’re acting strange,” Logan observes.

Declan shrugs. “I’m always strange.” He takes advantage of shoving fries in his face to avoid expounding.

Logan sighs and puts down his burger. “Declan. Something’s going on.”

Several somethings are going on, actually, but thanks. Declan shrugs again. “Haven’t been getting much sleep.” Which is a true statement. He’s written about ten different ways to tell Logan he’s leaving, nine of which are ripped up in the trash, one of which Declan just burned because he doesn’t want even scraps of that disaster to exist.

Five days to go and Declan still hasn’t told him. Five days. They don’t have many classes together, otherwise Logan would have pieced together the weird treatment from the teachers. Declan wonders if just disappearing into the void is an alright way to go, but a little Patton in his head chastises him for even considering it.

Then again, at this rate…

“Hm,” Logan says. He has a thoughtful look on his face that’s absolutely devastating to Declan’s heart and general health and coherence of thought, let alone considering what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Is there a reason?”

Declan considers, eyes narrowing as he stares at nothing. “I neglect to answer that question.”

“So yes,” Logan says. The words fall from his lips with crushing sorrow. He takes a breath. “Why aren’t you telling me?”

“Telling you what?” Declan says, internally wincing at the hurt flickering through Logan’s eyes.

“Okay,” Logan says instead. He turns back to his food.

They eat the rest of the meal in silence.

Declan watches absentmindedly as Logan attempts to make a tower out of pens and pencils. With the addition of Roman’s copious amounts of colored pens, the tower is quite impressive.

Two days.

(Two Days).

Declan’s all packed. Sorta. Not really. He’s going to skip some classes in the future and pack all at once, throwing everything into the boxes (the empty boxes lining his room), not caring if anything breaks.

He…

He hasn’t told Logan yet.

Or anyone, really, but Logan’s the one that -- the one that matters the most.

Logan did, however, ask him if he was okay three times before leaving him be, because Logan knows that Declan becomes testy if asked the same question consistently.

So basically, as far as Declan can figure, Declan’s a tool. Logan is trying, and Declan is giving him jack shit to work with.

Patton has told all his friends, which means it’s only a matter of time before Logan finds out, right? Patton’s a sophomore, they’re seniors, and the school is large, but it’s also not as big as it seems.

Roman, sitting next to him, hums under his breath as he types. He’s editing his college essay, which Declan would be doing if he had a college essay to edit and also cared enough. The atmosphere is strikingly calm, which leads to an anxious buzzing under Declan’s skin.

Tell him. Just tell him. Just open your mouth and tell him. You’re in a library, he can’t get loud and yell.

Declan wonders if yelling would be better, actually, than wide eyed stares and wounded expressions.

He’s contemplating the merits of writing a letter (absolutely not, he doesn’t know why he’s even considering it) when he spots Patton out of the corner of his eye.

Patton in and of himself does not scare Declan.

The fact that he’s bee-lining for Declan and his friends does make him a bit nervous, though.

“Cici,” Patton hisses. The cutesy play on Declan’s middle name sounds odd in such a harsh tone of voice. He glances at Logan before staring at Declan.

Declan’s starkly aware of Roman and Logan’s attention when he says, “yeah?”

“You told them?” Patton says, and Declan--

Well.

A combination of fear and fury and regret zip through his veins at warp speed.

But Declan’s well trained in the art of deception.

He schools his expression into one of cool indifference. “That I’m taking you for ice cream? Nah. I didn’t think they’d care. You wanna go right now?”

Roman huffs a laugh, turning his attention back to his computer. Logan doesn’t look away, though, hand resting on a bright yellow flair pen.

Patton’s brow furrows. “I mean the--”

“Man, if you were that impatient you could’ve texted me,” Declan interrupts with a long, drawn-out sigh. He stands, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Get me some ice cream next time,” Roman says, grinning. His gaze doesn’t leave his screen. “Bye, loser.”

“Bye,” Logan echoes.

Something registers in Declan’s brain-dead skull that Logan sounds lifeless because his best friend has been distant (Declan. Declan is Logan’s best friend).

Declan pauses, sighs. Patton looks outraged and about two seconds from outing Declan.

“I’m sorry,” Declan says. Logan looks up at him. “It’s not your fault. Just… I’m going through some things. You deserve to know. I shouldn’t shadow you without any info.”

Patton looks even angrier, if possible, but then Logan’s talking and Patton hates interrupting people.

“Okay,” Logan says, soft as ever. “I’ll wait for you.”

And if that doesn’t make Declan feel like the nastiest motherfucker.

“Let’s go,” Declan says, pulling Patton along before Patton lets loose.

He opens his mouth, but Declan beats him to it, whispering, “Shh, we’re in a library.”

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Patton hisses instead.

“Language.”

“You haven’t told them?” Patton exclaims. He yanks his wrist from Declan’s grip but continues following him, arms gesturing wildly. “You’re the worst.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Declan mutters.

“You better get me ice cream now,” Patton says, crossing his arms. “After making me watch that.”

“That’s fair,” Declan concedes, and then realizes he’s going to have to spent the next thirty minutes listening to Patton chastise him and --

Honestly, he deserves it, but he doesn’t want it, but before he can say anything, Patton says, “don’t even think about escaping this.”

So he’s stuck listening to Patton chastise him for the next thirty minutes until their next class starts.

But he gets a turtle sundae out of it, so it’s like, at least 20% a win.

“CICI,” Patton screams from the living room.

Declan shoots to his feet, tripping and slamming his knee into the doorframe, scrambling to reach Patton as swiftly as possible. He appears at the edge of the living room, hand pressed against the wall, chest heaving, eyes blown wide. “What? What is it?”

He assesses Patton for damage, but Patton’s standing with his phone clutched between his fingers, shaking ever so slightly but appearing physically fine. He’s staring at Declan, lip trembling.

“Patton?” Declan says.

Patton opens his mouth, tears dripping down his cheeks. He sniffs, making an angry noise in the back of his throat as he wipes at his face. “I shouldn’t tell you! I should let you suffer because you’re mean.”

“Patton,” Declan says, approaching his brother like one might a wild animal.

Patton shakes his head and Declan stops.

“I’m upset!” Patton says. Then he lets out a laugh, choked. “But I’m so relieved.”

Declan doesn’t say anything.

Patton sniffles a few more times, then peeks at Declan through his fingers. Declan tries for a smile, sheepish. Patton smiles back, watery and soft. His shoulders shake as he laughs softly, his phone pressed against his cheek. “I was so scared.”

“Me too,” Declan says.

“I’m sorry,” Patton says, the anger draining from his face and leaving a wide-eyed pile of nerves. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not mean. You’re just scared.”

“It’s okay,” Declan says. His arms hand limply by his sides. He wants to do something with them, to cross his arms or put them in his hoodie pockets or something, but he also wants to leave them available for when Patton wants a hug, so he stands awkwardly instead. “I forgive you.”

“I’ve been calling Uncle Thomas,” Patton says.

Declan’s heart does something funny in his chest.

Patton pulls his hands away from his face, rubbing his cheeks clean, staring at his phone for a few moments before his hand drops, dangling at his side. “He’s -- he said he’s coming here. His job can be done online and the stuff he can’t do online he’ll fly back for which won’t be often, he said it’s important to him that we -- have a support system throughout highschool, and he wants us to finish here before doing anything else.”

The information barely filters through Declan’s mind because when Patton exhales another sob Declan steps forward and envelops him in his arms on instinct. Patton’s legs go weak. Declan sinks to the ground, Patton pressing his face into Declan’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Patton mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is good. This is good.”

“Sometimes emotions have a funny way of showing,” Declan says. He runs his fingers through Patton’s hair, untangling the curls. “You’ve been stressed. It’s okay.”

“Why aren’t you crying?” Patton says. He taps his palm against Declan’s chest, reminiscent of a smack without any of the power. “It’s not fair.”

Declan laughs, sort of. “I might later. I don’t know. Emotions are weird.”

“You never told your friends you were moving,” Patton says. “Will they ever find out?”

“Probably,” Declan says. He squeezes Patton. “I know you told your friends. It’s better your way. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Mm.”

Declan can feel the rise and fall of Patton’s chest. It slows as Patton calms down. “We don’t have to move,” Patton murmurs.

“We don’t have to move,” Declan agrees, and Patton presses even closer.

Declan doesn’t know how he finds his way to the beach but at one point he’s baking Patton cookies and the next he’s sitting on a slab of concrete overlooking the pitch dark waves. He knows Patton is sleeping, or is at least pretending to sleep. He vaguely remembers writing a note in case Patton looks for him.

It’s been three days since Patton discovered Uncle Thomas’s moving plans. Discovered? Convinced? Declan isn’t sure.

And he doesn’t really know how to react. He’s been moving on autopilot, making dinner, doing homework, putting in minimal effort into his friendships so they don’t abandon him on the side of the road --

No. Declan shakes his head. Putting minimal effort into his friendships because his friends don’t deserve to be cut off without a word.

Nothing feels right.

(Something is off).

He hears footsteps and before he can whip around, before fear has the chance to truly take over his body, he hears, “this seat taken?”

“No,” Declan says, and Logan sits next to him on the concrete. They’re quiet for a few moments, watching the reflection of the moon, tasting salt on their tongues.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Logan says finally.

Declan closes his eyes, breathes. His emotions are all tangled up in his chest and he doesn’t want to tap into it for fear that if he lets out a little he’ll let out everything.

But Logan deserves to know.

(He deserves someone better.)

“My mom lost,” Declan says, which sounds nicer than it did in his head. “She’s unfit to care for us, anyway, but now she’s officially calling prison her new home.”

Logan’s quiet. Declan listens to his breathing. He spies Logan’s hand against the concrete and longs to close the distance and entangle their fingers, just for a modicum of physical comfort. The slightest hint of warmth permeates the air around Logan and Declan wants to lean closer, to press their arms together.

“My Uncle, on my dad’s side, is taking care of us. He… wasn’t originally going to move here, but Patton talked to him and he decided moving here is the best course of action.” Declan shifts. He doesn’t know how to say it. He doesn’t know how to explain.

Logan stops breathing.

“I almost lost you,” he says, and it’s barely a whisper.

Declan glances at him and can barely comprehend the amount of horror shining in Logan’s eyes. Logan’s staring at him, expression open and terrified. “I almost…” He exhales, shaking. Declan watches him so closely he can see the sticking of his chest as he breathes, the tremor of his shoulders.

Declan’s heart stutters and he wants to tear his gaze away but he owes, he owes Logan this. Even though the only thing he wants to do is run away, to preserve himself. “I -- I never told you,” Declan says, more scared than he has been in a long time. He opens his mouth and stops, shrinking away. He looks over Logan’s shoulder, unable to maintain eye contact. “We were supposed to leave two days ago. I was going to tell you and then…”

Then I found out that I’m in love with you, and it freaked me out so much I closed myself off.

Logan’s truly shaking, and Declan doesn’t know what to do. You caused this. This is your fault.

“Ugh! I’m sorry,” Declan exclaims. He can’t stand this, these tentative moments, fragile as glass. He wants to take a hammer to the whole affair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much but I was scared, and it’s not a valid excuse, but I was terrified, Logan, I couldn’t leave you! You mean too much to me!”

“You mean a lot to me too,” Logan says, but Declan’s on a roll, now, there’s no stopping the hurricane in his heart.

He moves his gaze to the waves, finding solace and energy in the constancy. “I was going to tell you when we were hanging out a few weeks ago in your room, and then I freaked out because -- and then I left, and haven’t been able to figure out how to word it since, and Patton’s better than I am, he told his friends almost immediately, imagine, having worse emotional competency than a fifteen year old--”

“Roman found out,” Logan says, grinding Declan’s tangent to a halt. “He mentioned something to me but I needed to hear it from you.”

Declan stares at him.

“I asked Patton if you were at home,” Logan explains. Declan can barely tell in the shadows, but Logan’s face seems to darken. “When he said no, I knew there was one other place you would go. Probably.”

Declan worries his lip. He’s that predictable?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Logan asks, quiet.

“Because…” Liquid anxiety slogs through his veins. His voice drops, quiet, quieter than the sound of waves. “Because I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

For a second all he can hear is the crash of the sea and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He doesn’t know why the moon isn’t falling from the sky, why the stars haven’t combusted, because his world feels like it’s falling apart at the seams.

“I discovered that,” Declan continues, the words slipping between his lips before his mind has any say in the matter, “and didn’t know what to do, and then I needed to tell you I was leaving, and I love you, and I couldn’t. Because I’m a coward.”

Another beat. Declan takes a long breath. “I still love you. And I’m no longer leaving.”

“I suppose… now would be a bad time to bring up demiromanticism?” Logan tries.

“It would be a terrible time, but thank you,” Declan says, and he can’t help the small puff of laughter that escapes.

“I love you too,” Logan says, then, and Declan can’t breathe.

He turns to Logan without thinking, searching his sapphire blue eyes for deception even though Logan has never, ever lied to him. He can’t hope, he can’t dare to hope, the world would never give him two miracles. “Don’t trick me.”

“I’m in love with you,” Logan clarifies, nervous. His hands are wringing together and he’s biting his lip.

Declan reaches out, fingers trembling, to brush against Logan’s cheek. “You…”

“I’ve been in love with you,” Logan says. He’s looking down, away from Declan’s gaze, but he leans into his touch. “For awhile. I never wanted to bring it up because… you were so adamant about being separate from romance…”

“I thought I was,” Declan says honestly. “Which is why this is a real fucking trip, let me tell you.”

Logan laughs, and some of the tension in the air dissolves. “I can imagine.”

“God, I love you,” Declan says. He brushes his thumb underneath Logan’s eye.

“I love you too,” Logan says, eyes wide and sparkling, then he moves forward and cradles Declan’s head in his hands and Declan short circuits because he’s right there he’s RIGHT THERE and he’s touching him he loves him he loves him--

“You’re gorgeous,” Logan says, and Declan just stares at him dumbly because his mouth stops working. His heart is barely going, the only reason he’s not dead is because his body has some sort of instinctive survival instinct, or something.

Emotion clog his throat and Declan doesn’t know how he’s not sobbing already so he’s unsurprised when the smallest tear slips out of his eye.

“Oh,” Logan says, wiping the tear away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s -- it’s not -- it’s not you,” Declan chokes out. “God. This is so embarrassing.”

“I don’t care,” Logan says. He leans closer, pressing their foreheads together and staring into Declan’s eyes. “It’s okay to cry.”

Declan smiles thinly, blinking away tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

Logan stares at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Declan says. His trembling hands hold Logan’s jaw. “And you’re so smart and passionate, and you have the most wicked sense of humor, and you’re my best friend.”

“No,” Logan shakes his head. “I mean, I am your best friend, but there’s no deserve in a relationship. We’re just people. People make mistakes. I make mistakes. Please don’t sell yourself short.”

Declan wants to say that only proves how good Logan truly is, but he settles for a simple, “Okay.”

Logan brushes hair out of Declan’s eyes, then sighs, dropping his head to Declan’s shoulder. Declan’s hands slide down to Logan’s upper back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Declan says.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Logan replies, muffled. He pulls away for a split second, eyes blurry and a crease already showing from his glasses pressing into his skin. “But if you withhold life-altering information like that from me again there will be issues.”

“I won’t,” Declan says. He swallows. He hates promises. He hates them, because he never feels like he can maintain them. “I’ll… I’ll try my hardest.”

Logan searches his gaze, nods, and then presses fully into Declan.

“Woah, okay.” Declan shifts as Logan clings to him like a koala bear. Logan’s basically in his lap and Declan, well. Declan has no complaints.

“I can do this as much as I want because we’re in love with each other,” Logan mutters, and wow, if that doesn’t send a thousand vibrations across his skin. In love with each other.

Declan grins. He likes the sound of that.

“You know,” Logan says conversationally. His fingers trail up to press against Declan’s face, outlining his lips. “I love it when you smile.”

Declan hums, his smile broadening. Me too, Logan.

Me too.

#im also posting this on ao3 bc this is a MONSTER #loceit #logan sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #brotherly moceit #god the dynamics..... so good #roman sanders #virgil sanders #well virgils mentioned hes not actually in it OOPS sorry virge love u #does the ending make sense?? i hope so #deceit: i also love it when i smile thank u logan #<-- incorrect interpretation yet i love it #did someone order some uhhhhh fluff #willowaudreykeyes

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krabmeat · 3 years

Text

𝚓𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Wilbur Soot

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: he/him

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: mentions of death, implied s_!c!de, aggressive and angered yelling, glass shattering

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this is gonna be a 7 part series im doing where I write all of the songs from the album "Your City Gave Me Asthma" by Wilbur Soot as short stories! this is the first one of the 7, jubilee line- hope you enjoy!! this short story does deal with extremely heavy topics, so please reach out to a professional or a trusted person in your life if you deal with similar emotions or similar situations. your emotions are valid and deserve to be dealt with, no one expects you to handle your sh-t alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wasting your time.

“Wilbur, what are you talking about?” She’s trying to help again. It’s tiring. She’s my therapist, but also my friend and roommate so I see her often. She can see how much I’ve been struggling with my job, and she’s been trying to help. I don’t think I want it. My eye bags are more defined since I’ve tilted my head down to lace my fingers through my slightly greasy hair. I’m thinking. My eyes are closed when she speaks up again. “Wil!” I snap my eyes open and look up at her.

You're wasting mine.

I don’t know where my body is taking me. Pent up impulse has taken control of my body, and I stomp my way over to the door while briskly grabbing my beanie and trench coat from the coat rack. “Wil, where are you going?” “Away.” She desperately grabs onto my upper arm. She’s concerned, but am I? In any other situation, I would be. But it doesn’t feel like me talking.

I hate to see you leaving,

Her voice was shaky when she spoke. There are tears in her eyes. It’s strange, really. She always managed to let her tears roam as they pleased, it’s always been something I’ve found fascinating about her. But my curiosity doesn’t seem to be where it usually is on my mental shelf. I think I may have misplaced it. I take one last glance around the place before calmly removing her hand from my arm.

Fate worse than dying.

I don’t know how late it is until I hear 11 distinct chimes roll out across the city like a blanket. Even then, I don’t know how long I’ve been walking but I think I’m getting close to my destination. But why am I feeling dizzy? Oh right,

Your city gave me asthma

Probably one of the only things I brung with me, I found an inhaler in my coat pocket. It’s got enough to last me to where I’m going. With the last puff in it, I chuck the empty inhaler into a nearby alley. Climate change hits hard everywhere, but it gets bipolar in London. It doesn’t matter to me right now. I’d turn it all to ash from the fleeting joy I get from adding more smoke to the sky.

So that’s why I’m f*cking leaving.

The inhaler helped me breathe, but the dizziness is still there. The inhaler doesn’t even matter, the air is still dense and damp from the drenched night before. The world around me is melting, but when I blink it’s like everything was inflated back to normal with an air pump. Before I know it though, my lack of eyesight sends me tumbling to the ground. My arms and legs are damp, I tripped on a puddle.

And your water gave me cancer.

I’m never usually this mad. Bottling up comes easy to me, yet I find myself angrily stomping on the puddle, causing me to fall again, leaving more scrapes scattered across my pale, cold skin. The concrete meets my knuckles, aggressively landing blows to its invisible face.

And the pavement hurt my feelings.

I get up from the ground. The blood from my knuckles is unrecognizable, washed away by the sudden downpour. The buildings have become a haze. Familiar, but I don’t know what it is. Not the familiarness associated with a home, or a warm and comforting hug. As if I’ve seen it before, constantly looming over me, watching me like a renewed episode of their favorite show. They already know what’s happening, they know what’s coming. I can’t take it. There’s a rasp in my voice and I’m surrounded by re renovated apartments and business buildings, factories puffing their black cigarette smoke out for the ignorant tourists to see.

Shout at the walls,

My tears are confused with the rain, but both are dripping viciously from my face as gravely shouts and yells stream out of my mouth. Nearby bottles and littered beer cans are pleading for mercy, crushed and shattered by my aggressive hands thrown against the walls.

Cause the walls don’t f*cking love you.

My senses are getting overwhelmed, my arms and legs shaking from either the cold or the jolt of sensation I get when the glass shatters into a million pieces before I could stop it.

Shout at the walls,

“SHUT THE F*CK UP, WILL YA!?” My head tilts upwards to see a man at his windowsill with a dirty glare coming my way. A few seconds later, a little girl appears behind the man, seeming to have just woken up. A soft and whispery “Dad…?” Can be heard from the little girl. The softness I feel from the small wholesome moment soon turns into mind-numbing guilt. I run away, the numbness going to my legs as they once again travel on their own.

Cause the walls don’t f*cking love you.

My legs burn and sting with every stride and step they take along the path. I’m almost there. The strange looks and stares I’m getting are blocked out by the splashing and slapping of my damp shoes against the thin puddles on the ground.

Clap, clap

It’s almost as if this place is a second home for me. It’s my home, crowded with chatter and people making their ways through the Jubilee line. I’m so familiar with this place, you’d think I actually live here. I make my way to the glass barriers that block me from reaching the train, my damp feet still slapping against the ground.

Clap, clap

The barrier frustrates me. The visitors see it as a safety precaution, London’s trying to keep us safe! But we know, I know. It represents ignorance, laziness, failure. London’s desperacy to please those foreign to this place while ostracizing those who have been fed to the brim with government immaturity. I’ve broken barriers like these, it was easy for me to shatter the flimsy glass. The crowds and crowds of people stop, scream, panic, run and express their disgust all at once. I stood on top of the railing, the only other thing in my way. The tracks are calling to me, but so does a voice.

There’s a reason that London puts barriers on the tube line!

This voice isn’t familiar to me, which is why it bothers me so much. Foreigner. They don’t know. They COULD know, it’s not as if our hierarchy here has made a completely opaque wall between their intentions and actions. I’m still on top of the rail, but my back is faced towards the tracks. My eyes land on a short, blond white woman. Her voice sounded like she was talking with sticks in her mouth, nothing like the smoothness of a British accent. I fail to turn around in time before another voice is heard from another part of the station.

There’s a reason London puts barriers on the rails!

A tall man with ginger hair and lanky arms speaks up. He’s just like the woman, uneducated. Poor foreigners. The brotures and online ads and magazine cut-outs only give webs of lies and deceit when advertising to come to London. It speaks of the grand sights but not the horrid trauma that children here have to bear their sight to because of our crippling economy. The photos show places with warm rays and never the vicious rain and storms or scolding heat. The videos show clear, blue skies and never the gray turning grayer from the remains of society's mass-production. I’m done listening to these people. But one in particular stops me.

There’s a reason that London puts barriers on the tube line,

A tone I recognize, but a face that’s a haze. The man is from here, his voice says it all. His gray outfit and security guard patch on his vest. He knows what I’m thinking. He understands. Understanding would have been useful about an hour ago, yet I still find a soft smile slowly etching on my lips. I spread my arms out, like a bird with its wings spread out from its body. I wish I had wings, I would fly out of this wretched town. Fly out to freedom like Icarus. He flew too high, however. Where I’m going, the only upwards I’ll be is 6 feet under. But I’m ready for that. My face expresses a feeling of relief, tranquility, satisfaction. I haven’t smiled like this in years, it’s nice to close things off with a smile. The buzz of a train can be distantly heard, and I look out to the crowd. With the breeze of the air pushing against my falling back, I manage to breathe out a final arrangement for the crowd to hear.

There’s a reason they fail.

#wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfic #ycgma #mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #dsmp fic #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #song fic #song fanfic #song fanfiction

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mother-snake · 4 years

Note

I FOUND FREE TIME!! Sorry if this one is a bit rushed Jessie!!

Italics are memories

-----

The first thing a yellow side notices is that his head feels like its being split open. The second thing is that he's laying on a very soft couch. And the third? The third is that he doesn't remember anything.

He makes a slight noise of discontent before opening his eyes, only to have five people swarm him. Talking to him very fast and keep trying to touch him. He tries to curl up only to be unable to move.

One by one the colourful people back away only a dark blue person stayed by him. His lips keep moving but it all sounds like its underwater. Only to clear.

"-us, Janus! Can you hear us?"

His voice is raspy but he manages to respond, "Who's Janus?"

The people seemed to not like that answer, he didn't know why but making someone upset makes him feel like he's in danger, the indigo side didn't react that much.

"You are Janus, that is your name. Do you remember us?"

Janus shook his head.

"Well, I am Logan, Thomas's logic. The red side is Roman, one half of creativity. Green is Remus, the second half of creativity. The purple one is Virgil, he represents anxiety. And the light blue side is Patton. Thomas's morality.

Janus seemed to be taking the information in. Thinking about that one name he said... What was it? Timothy? Tobias? Travis?

"Do you remember Thomas?"

Janus had to stop and think. Thomas... Thomas was their centre. I'm one of his sides. Janus nodded

Logan handed Janus a glass of water, helping him take careful sips. The water felt like heaven, it was cool and soothing. But the heaven was gone soon enough.

"Do you remember your function?"

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember. "Deception?.....Or was it self preservation? I- I can't remember."

Logan had a small smile on his lips. "You are correct, your title is Deceit and your function is Self Preservation."

"Deceit... Isn't lying bad? Am I bad? Why does my head hurt?" Janus didn't notice the looks of pain on the others faces because they put those thoughts there.

Logan's smile disappeared. "No, you are not a bad side. You work for the good of Thomas. Why would you think that?"

"Because they told me so."

"Who?"

"..... I don't remember... They wore a lot of black."

"Do you mean the Dark Sides?"

A sharp gasp came from the yellow side. Blood, there is so much blood. Its my blood. Screaming. No, not screaming. Yelling. I'm running, the hallway is dark, the rug keeps triping me, my door lock is broken, I'm hiding... I can feel my breath.... The door to my room is open. Orange. I scream.

Janus is still screaming, he's trying to run but something is holding him down, he can feel someones breath. "Let me go! Please I'll do what you want!" he feels a slight sting in his arm before his eyes get blurry. The voices in the background get farther away as he feels himself involuntarily relax and fall back asleep.

Logan pulls the needle away as Roman, Remus and Virgil all let go of the sleeping side. Worry is blinding them as all of them walk into the kitchen to talk.

"The NopeRope doesn't remember anything. What do we do here?" Roman kept messing with his sash.

"His memory seems to come back with certain prompts or questions. However it seems to have a bad reaction-"

"A bad reaction? A BAD REACTION?? Logan, he was screaming for help while repeating the word no! That is more then JUST a bad reaction!!

Logan sighed, "Virgil, I know that you're worried about him but he does need to get his memory back."

"Does he?"

Everyone was now staring at Patton.

"I mean well, if he doesn't remember what the others put him through and what we put him through maybe he would be happier? He just looks to peaceful while he's asleep that I've never seen him have before."

"He will most likely remember anyway when he sees the scars, we can not hide this from him forever."

The kitchen was now an awkward silence. Until Remus broke it.

"How long till he wakes up, nerd?"

"Should be around 3 hou-"

"He'll be awake in five"

"What? Why five?"

"He's smaller then normal, plus he's not a full grown side yet, so-"

"What?" Patton didin't seem happy knowing that info.

Remus shugged, "he popped up in the gray when Thomas was ten, followed virgil around like a lost puppy next to a railroad. He just grew fangs a few months ago! I don't think they have venom though, bit of a shame. Everything is better with venom.-"

"Remus, getting off track here. Janus is the youngest?"

Remus nodded enthusiastically. "Yep" poping the P, "he was a cute little baby snake! Loved strawberries! The other three didn't like him very much though."

Patton was pressing his palms to his eye sockets. "they burned, beat and tried to kill a child?"

Remus nodded and looked to the ground.

The sides split up to go a few things before Janus woke up again.

When Janus opened his eyes all he could smell was strawberries. A song played in the background. He felt stronger and managed to sit up. He looked on the TV to see a frog singing the loveliest lies of them all.

"Vee! Vee!" Boucing up and down. "Can we watch Over The Garden Wall?" Virgil looked over at the shorter side. "You just watched it yesterday, short stack" even though the yellow side was 15 he still bounced and gave Virgil the puppy dog eyes. Virgil sighed, "Fine. Bring up the episode." trying and failing to sound annoyed. The smaller side smiled even wider.

"Vee?" Janus mumbled under his breathe the name. The side in the memory looked similar to...What was his name? VIRGIL! That was it! Was Vee Virgil? The snake zoned out in his thoughts and the song from the frog. Only to be brought out of it when a light blue side stood in front if him.

"Patton? That was your name right?"

"Yep! You got it in one mr scales!" Patton seemed nice, wait. Scales?

Get out of here you slimy boi! reptilian rapscallion! Snake! Evil! Villian! You are no good for Thomas! Just leave! Leave! LEAVE! LEAVE!

Janus lifted his hand and touched the left side of his face. Smooth scales greeted his hand and old burnt skin next to his eye. Tears started to leak for a reason he couldn't pin point. Continuously touching the scales, stoking over the sharp bottom of scales. Sooner then he thought someone was sitting next to him.

Patton sat next to him and was counting numbers.

1 2 3 4. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Janus didn't know what the numbers where but he followed along anyway.

Soon he could smell the strawberries again. He likes strawberries right? Janus thinks he likes strawberries. When he looks up, Patton gives him a hug. Wincing when his arms touch something on his back.

More and more time passes. With each memory things get clearer. Janus still doesn't know why he can't remember anything. Until another memory happens.

"WILL YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT UP?" " No! Roman I want to apologize! I'm sorry I compared you to your brother! I'm sorry I manipulated you at the courtroom! I'm sorry I sent Remus to deal with my problems! You don't have to forgive me but ay least listen to me!" Roman growls "FUCK OFF!!" And suddenly, he is back at the dark household.

He needs to get out before the others find him. Who knows what they would do to h- "Ohhh Deceit! So lovely for you to stop by~" Too late.

He runs to his room, tripping on the carpet. The lock is broken. He hides in the closet. Wrath finds him. He's dragged to the dark side commons and chained to a wall for days to become the personal punching bad. Apathy set him on fire, Wrath beat him up and Depression.... Depression did something to his head. He was thrown into the gray after depression had his fun. Then he blacked out

Janus doesn't want to leave his room. He's being punished for wanting to apologize. That seems like bullshit to him.

Weeks pass. People keep knocking on his door, they say that they're worried. What a bunch of liars.

After a month, the sides make Thomas take them inside if the bedroom. After a bit of convincing, Janus tells them everything.

And much to his surprise. They are livid.

------

Beep boop. Thingy done! I hope this thing made sense! Brain is broken atm. This one was inspired by Once Upon a December from Anastasia.

This turned out a lot more fluffy then I originally thought.... Hope ya like it! I need to go write a poem now ❤💛❤

protcetive sides alert! yeah! may i say that this is some quality content? im running out of things to say wihout repeating myself but they are all just so amazing and normaly leave me with energy to write stuff. (sorry im responding to these now, i was asleep when i got them last night and consumed by school fr the past few hours...)

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itsfrenchfornothankyou · 4 years

Text

When Darkness Turns to Light - chapter 6

Description: Patton just wants to have one (1) nice dinner, is that too much to ask?

Relationships: platonic moceit mostly, platonic DLAMP, but like, half of them are still arguing ya know.

Characters: Patton, Janus, Roman, Virgil, Logan.

Warnings: negative self talk, arguing, lots of angst

let me know if anything needs tagging- or a better way of warning for stuff im still learning!

all characters in this fic are sympathetic, but they are not always paragons of good people! they are complicated and have complicated histories that are reflected in the way they treat each other

first chapter

previous chapter // next chapter

A band aid on a broken heart

It’s been over a month since the wedding, and gradually things are returning to normal. Or… something like normal anyway.

They’ve fallen into new routines at meal times, and Patton finds comfort in them, even if it isn’t quite the same as it was before. He supposes though, that the same as before maybe shouldn’t be what he’s aiming for.

Virgil and Roman never come to breakfast anymore, and so it’s become a time for Patton, Logan and Janus to plan schedules. Not that Patton has much to contribute, but he enjoys the excuse to hang out with the two of them. he loves they way they light up while they debate, a fire igniting in their eyes that Patton has never really taken to time to appreciate before.

At lunch time Patton puts out a spread of sandwiches, and the other sides filter in and out of the kitchens, rarely stopping to talk. It’s the most familiar part of the day if he’s being honest. One time Logan walked in with his nose stuck in a book, didn’t look up, and Patton pushed a sandwich into his hand as Logan had grasped around the plate looking for one. He walked out again without saying anything, only a nod to even acknowledge that he had even noticed the other side’s presence. Patton’s heart had swelled. It was the most normal scene he had been in in a long time. after all of the awkward stumbling around each other and the stunted polite conversation, it was nice to just be comfortable existing in each other’s space.

Dinnertime has been… hit and miss. Two weeks ago he had gotten the courage to go around and knock on everyone’s doors and tell them he was making dinner and, well it could have gone worse. Roman came down, although he hadn’t spoken to them. Logan had sat with a Hanji book for the entire dinner, and Virgil had almost immediately fled the scene, barely even touching his food. As for the other two, well… Janus had assured Patton that Remus would not eat regular food, and he shouldn’t invite him, but he had still felt bad for not calling him to dinner. As for Janus himself, well he had said it was a “bad idea”. Patton hadn’t liked that answer, but Janus assured him he should be focusing on smaller goals first, rather than trying to repair Janus’ relationships with the other sides.

Since then, Patton had had varying levels of success. Some nights only Logan would show up, very rarely he would manage to get all of them into the kitchen, though it never lasted long.

One time Remus showed up and well… they had silently, and mutually, agreed not to talk about that night. The first time he had managed to coax Janus downstairs with promises of pasta and wine it had devolved into a hissing match between him and Virgil. So, better than Patton had expected.

Patton stirs the pot of pasta, wondering absentmindedly how many people will be coming for dinner. He always makes enough for seven, although he knows they’ll never have a full table. he opens the lid of the second pot, and gives the sauce a quick stir before turning it down to a simmer. Behind him someone makes a noise of deep contentment. Patton smiles. “Wow Jan, I would have never guessed you had such n-oodles of love for pasta. Tell me, is it the ravi-only way to your heart?” he sneaks a glance back at Janus to see he reaction, but the other side catches his eye with a smirk. Patton looks back at the pot too quickly to see the soft smile that crosses Janus’ face as he shrugs.

“I lived exclusively on microwave meals and chicken nuggets for the past thirty years. Can you blame me?” Janus sidles up to Patton, batting his eyes innocently as he sneaks some food out of the pot. Patton fixes him with an aghast look.

“Have you ever tried cooking with Remus?” Patton shudders at the thought. “As I said,” Janus continues. “the less chance for things to go wrong, the better.” Patton isn’t sure if he should smile or grimace at Janus, but before he can decide the door to the kitchen opens.

“Roman!” Patton cries excitedly. It’s been a couple of days since Roman last made it down to dinner. Patton wants to check in on him, see how he’s doing, talk about what he’s working on, but Roman hasn’t exactly been wanting to talk lately. “Food’s almost ready,” He says instead. “I’m making your favourite, tagliatelle!” He fixes Roman with his brightest and best dad smile, but Roman’s returning one is tight and artificial. Patton tries not to let it get to him, keeping up the happy attitude. He can feel Janus frowning at him.

Moments later, Logan comes into the room; latest read tucked under one arm. He tidies the table, but doesn’t set it. Seeing all of the empty setting had started getting to Patton, so now people just get their plates as they turn up.

Patton stars piling bowls, Roman first, then Logan, then Janus. As he’s about to fill his own he hears quiet movement, and a hush falls over the room. He forces himself not to freeze in place, instead smiling brightly at Virgil, careful not to be too loud.

“Virgil!” He beckons the side over. “Good to see you, pasta?”

Virgil hesitates, taking in the room. Janus smirks a him, and Patton spots the beginnings of what will rapidly become another petty and pointless argument. He shoots a look at the other side. Janus rolls his eyes, but takes his seat without another word.

Shoving his hands into his hoody pockets, Virgil quietly makes his way to Patton. “Sure. Sounds great.” Patton tried to keep his excitement on the inside; it’s the most that Virgil has said aloud in days.

Taking his bowl with a nod of thanks, Virgil takes a seat at the table as far away from Janus as possible, finding Logan levels of literalism in the phrase “on the edge of his seat”. Patton attempts to start a casual conversation around the table, asking Logan about the book he’s reading. As Logan lights up and begins mapping out the plot of the book, the mood lightens up a little. At one point Patton could swear he even sees Virgil smile. This all comes crashing down about halfway through dinner, when Logan asks Roman what he’s working on.

Patton sees Roman’s smile falter and slip off of his face, and it feels like a punch to the gut. Virgil tenses up across the table, but Roman just tries to dismiss the question with a wave of a hand.

“Oh you know, this and that,” he murmurs. “You’ll see it when it’s finished.” Logan frowns, but doesn’t push the matter further. Janus seems to have other ideas.

“If you’re having creative block, ignoring it is definitely going to help.” Patton winces, but Janus is making steady eye contact with Roman now, and it’s evident that he sees this as a battle worth fighting.

“What, me? Creative block?” Roman is louder now, pulling in some swagger that Patton has barely seen in weeks. “Foul fiend I- I am the embodiment of Creativity!” He sputters as he speaks. “Or course no such thing could happen to me!”

“Do you forget who I am?” Janus asks quietly. His voice barely a whisper in the wind, as though it were simply an exasperated afterthought. Before Roman can reply, he continues pushing. “Great, you definitely haven’t already had the talk about what a good idea it is to wait for an idea to be perfect before presenting it.”

“Hah! What would you know about creativity, Lie Mis?” Roman stands, waving his arms and shouting, before turning away from Janus, His voice cracks as he speaks, and Patton’s heart flutters nervously, unsure how to defuse the situation.

“Hey Kiddos,” he says. “How about we all just take a breather and stop for a moment-”

“No!” Roman shouts. “I can see that you clearly don’t need me here.” His voice hitches, and Patton feels frantic. “Since apparently he knows everything I’ll just, just-”

“Roman! That’s not true!” Patton stands at the table, and moves to reach for Roman, but the other side flinches away.

“Because everyone here is such an expert in what’s true,” he mutters.

“Roman,” Patton realises with some surprise that it’s Janus speaking, his voice softened as he lets out a gentle sigh. “I’m not-” they don’t get to hear the rest of the sentence, as Roman cuts him off with a harsh laugh.

“I don’t need any more of your lies, Deceit.” Then he sinks out. A silence echoes around the room, palpable enough to be deafening. Patton looks over at Janus, but whatever vulnerability he hard in his voice moments ago is gone, replaced with a cold hard nothing. His expression an unreadable marble.

“Well, I think that went well,” he says airily, continuing to eat. Across the room Virgil hisses at him, teeth bared. Janus simply raises an eyebrow at him. Patton isn’t sure if it’s a question or a challenge.

“Can you for once in your fucking miserable existence just fucking-” Virgil waves a hand in the air, unsure how to finish his sentence, or perhaps hoping to pull the words from the air. “Not be you!” he stands in place, shaking with anger.

“Oh?” Deceit says, smiling lazily. “And who would you like me to be?” He holds up a hand as though to snap his fingers.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Virgil grinds out, his teeth gritted. Absently, Patton wonders if Virgil has fangs. He’s never notices them before. “You can’t just… lie, all the time, and expect people to trust you!”

Janus huffs out a breath, almost a laugh, almost… something else. “Because the truth has always gone so well for me in the past.” It’s quiet, quiet enough that Patton can hardly be sure Janus meant to say it at all.

In response Virgil simply bares his teeth again. “Like you’ve ever even tried it,” he hisses. Then he’s gone.

Patton stands, his eyes wide. He fights back tears, instead straightening up, trying to pull himself together.

“I’m, I’m going to go- go check on Virgil,” he says, fighting a wobble in his voice.

“You won’t be able to find him,” Janus replies. “Not if he doesn’t want to be found,”

“Well,” Patton clenches his fist, then relaxes. “I have to try anyway. If he does want me, I’ll be there,” just barely perceptible, he could swear he sees Janus flinch.

---

In the end Janus is right. Virgil is nowhere to be found. At one point he thinks he sees his door at the end of a hallway, but by the time he reaches it it’s gone. He lets out a cry of frustration. Normally he loves the mind palace, with it’s sprawling corridors and nonsensical patterns. If you aren’t paying attention you can walk for hours without running into anyone else.

Normally, this doesn’t work against him. when he’s looking for someone, he finds that his feet naturally take him where he needs to go. But Virgil seems to have mastered the shifting halls, and folded himself away in a corner that Patton isn’t sure how to access.

When he returns to the kitchen, he’s surprised to find Janus and Logan still there, in the middle of cleaning up after dinner.

“Oh, I was just about to get to-” but Janus interrupts him with a wave of his hand.

“It’s no trouble.”

“He thought you might need the break,” Logan adds. Janus glares at him, and Patton suppresses a smile.

“I did not say-”

“You implied, did you not?” Logan asks inquisitively. “I have been studying your dialogue, and you said-”

“There’s no need!” Janus shouts, with panic evident. The laugh that Patton has been squashing down bursts out, and Janus turns away; furiously scrubbing at the dishes in the sink.

“Fascinating,” Logan breathes. “Is only half of your face capable of blushing?” he asks, ducking his own head to get a better look at Janus’ face. “What exactly is your biology like? Are you in fact part snake, or is it appearance only? Thomas did imply…” Logan continues muttering to himself about biology, but Patton doesn’t understand any of it. He’s just happy to see that the other two sides are getting along.

Janus moves away hurriedly as he places the last dish on the drying rack, pulling off his gloves. Patton frowns.

“Janus,” he begins carefully. “Were you wearing those gloves… over your other gloves?”

“No.” Janus moves into the front room, sitting on the sofa with a thump to sulk. Patton suppresses another giggle.

Logan and Patton share a rare smile, before Logan clears his throat and announces his exit, already absorbed in his book once more before he’s even left the room.

Patton takes a seat next to Janus, and the two of them sit together in silence for a while. Janus has produces a crossword from somewhere in his cape, and is dutifully filling it in while Patton hums a tune to himself as he looks through his box of movies. It’s nice, and the quiet is only broken but Patton’s occasional suggestion of film, always swiftly followed by a sharp rejection.

The two sides have yet to actually watch a film together, though this has become something of a regular occurrence between the two of them. regular enough for Patton to know that Janus never actually solves the puzzles he brings. He does however find rather interesting solutions that definitely are not the intended answer. He always says that he simply has “his own interpretation of the rules”.

Patton finds himself knowing all sorts of little details about the other side, he realises. He knows that his favourite food is breakfast, whenever it isn’t supposed to be eaten. Pancakes at 2am, eggs and toast for lunch… and so on. He knows the other side is remarkably well read, and has a fondness for face masks, though he himself doesn’t use them. Patton’s skin has never felt clearer though. Janus is excellent at nail varnish, but terrible at applying makeup. However-

“27 dresses?” Patton tries.

“Ah yes, the love interest in that film isn’t creepy at all.” Janus rolls his eyes.

-He still hasn’t figured out what kind of TV the other side watches. Patton sighs in defeat, pushing the box away from himself for the evening. So far the chick flick category has turned out to be a total bust, and he’s ready to give up on it. he’s beginning to have strong suspicions that maybe Janus likes the types of movies that Patton doesn’t like at all, but he won’t be deterred.

“Hey, Janus,” he starts softly, but he can already see the other side tensing up. “About earlier-”

“I’m not apologising to Roman,” he replies shortly. Yeah, Patton pretty much saw that one coming.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” Janus looks over at him now, eyes narrow. “I just…” despite all of the time Patton has spent looking for the right way to go about the conversation, he still finds himself at a loss for words “Wondered if… maybe you could talk? If you could get to know each other-”

“He doesn’t want to get to know me,” Janus sighs. “I’m not going to just keep on-” he cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath. Patton wants to know, but he resolves not to push him.

“Maybe if-”

“If what?” Janus looks up, exasperated. “No matter what I do, Roman has already resolved to hate me. Same with Virgil. There is nothing I could possibly do to change their minds.” There’s a bitter sort of anger in his voice, that Patton hasn’t heard before. Not the biting sharpness of when he explodes at roman, not the playful tone he took in the courtroom. There’s a melancholy to it, but resigned. Patton isn’t really sure who it’s directed at.

“I mean, the arguing can’t help though.” Patton pushes.

“It’s better than the alternative.” Janus voice softens, almost sad. Hurt? Patton reaches out a hand to lay on Janus’ shoulder, but he shakes it off. Patton finds he’s thoroughly lost his footing in the conversation, unsure of what Janus is trying to say anymore, but not yet ready to make the final push to ask.

Janus doesn’t leave, but it’s clear that he’s done with the conversation. He picks up his book, turning a new page and beginning again. There are so many questions bouncing around in Patton’s head. He doesn’t even know where to begin to unravel the mess he’s in. He wonders what happened between Virgil and Janus, he wants to know their history, as it becomes more and more evident that they have one. How did they get here? Whenever Janus talks about Virgil, it’s almost as though he’s talking about someone entirely different. Patton doesn’t know how to reconcile the two thoughts in his head.

He doesn’t ask though. instead, the two of them stay that way for the rest of the evening; silent in each other’s company. They’re both all too familiar with being alone to willingly submit to it again. not that either one of them would ever say it. maybe some things don’t need to be said, Patton thinks. Maybe that isn’t the point. Some days it can be enough just to exist near each other

---

sorrry, i meant to have this up yesterday, but then i slept in till like 4pm and then did baking sooooo

not really quite happy with this chapter yet? but this is as good as it gets for now, so hope you like it let me know what you thought!

tags: @booklover223 @god0fspoons @cemmy @selenechris @sweet-hibiscus-tea-art

let me know if you want to be tagged!

#sanders sides #themaagoo #janus sanders angst #roman sanders angst #janus sanders #roman sanders #moceit #sanders sides fic #themaagoowrites #my writing #my fic #whendarknessturnstolight #patton sanders #angst #platonic moceit

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mallahanmoxie · 4 years

Text

i know this behaviour is a relic of my hilariously ironically unfinished higher education but i cannot move forward with the kids' sorting until i have finished at the very least the whole novel, if not all the side stories as well. i just need to have the most amount of facts available to be able to rule on this or i fear i'm going to end up awfully misjudging everything (i'm only on volume 9 of 15!!!!!) and inso's law is both too fucking wild and its character arcs too goddamn important to ignore.

so have my preliminary and very very very shallow sortings with brief explanations under the cut instead, i guess

ham dani

primary: ravenclaw

secondary: hufflepuff (most likely)

i think the primary is pretty straightforward. ham dani has a system that she measures all new information against: her knowledge of webnovels and belief she is inside one direct practically all her actions and have a chokehold on most of her thoughts. the nuances of this belief change throughout the story but she is always seen reasoning against this external system and deferring to it in spite of her immediate feelings. as far as secondary, i lean towards hufflepuff because dani's like an interesting people magnet, somewhat unconsciously forming communities wherever she goes, and she works so hard when she wants something. she went to cram school every day after what happened in february still, she studies so hard despite her grades, she toils at her relationships with the others.

eun jiho

primary: gryffindor or ravenclaw

secondary: slytherin

i do think he's an idealist for a primary, i'm just not sure which. i hesitate to say if his expectations/upbringing are the system by which he measures the world (and dani is. always wrecking havoc on this) or if he feels what is right and as he grows this diverges from what he's been taught and thus why his feelings for dani represent such a point of contention. i still don't know. i lean towards gryffindor, though. he's most definitely a sytherin secondary, though. the cold persona was probably taught as well, and likely comfortable, but he doesn't seem uncomfortable by it (unlike jooin, in a way) and his quick switch with dani from sweet to normal when talking in his father's presence when he could have waited is quite slytherin to me. he's mostly in his neutral state with dani tho.

ban yeoryung & yoo chunyoung

primary: slytherin

secondary: gryffindor

lumping them together because they turned out to have the same. originally pinged yeoryung as a true gryffindor, but i think her undying loyalty to dani and dani alone is pretty telling. her morality might rely a lot on her gryffindor secondary, but it doesn't matter what's right as long as dani is okay. i had no idea with chunyoung until i thought of how threatened he is by ruda trying to pull dani from their inner circle and thought it made sense. chunyoung is constantly surrounded and affirmed by his close circle of loved ones so that outlier is both unprecedented and distressing. ban yeoryung is as gryffindor secondary as can be--bold and brash and even violent. chunyoung is a quieter but equally self assured flavour of gryffindor, blunt and unapologetic in his true self, unaccostumed and distrustful of lies and deceit.

woo jooin

primary: burnt gryffindor

secondary: ravenclaw

jooin's past definitely did incredibe damage to his self-image. i figured he'd be more than not a burnt primary and started looking at those. i was torn between hufflepuff (it seemed like he wanted to be more than what he was, but i wasn't sure if that was directed to people in general or just as a way to make up for what he'd done. also suspected he'd left himself out of his concept of 'people' and had restricted his circle to his friends and family only) but his internal struggle ended up feeling more like a gryffindor's guilt over his breached felt moral code and lack of faith in being able to redeem himself or follow a straight path again. i also thought hufflepuff (even slytherin) for the secondary on account of his intermingling but ended up thinking of the people he befriends and his "facade" as skills in his toolkit, legacy of that lady's influence on him. his personal relationships are tools as is every other bit of information he keeps on them, including who knows who and what are they experts in and how he can use them. likewise, his frantic trying to call ham dani and the wall of post its he puts up after she disappears sounded rather in line with that.

kwon eunhyung

primary: hufflepuff? slytherin? he's schroddinger's primary but he is likely burnt.

secondary: hufflepuff

listen, i have no idea what the fuck is going on in eunhyung's head, like, ever. he's the least explored so far to me so everything he does is a surprise in some shape or form. i think he tends towards one of the more steady ones—somehow i can't help jut read his shrewdness as something put upon but im not willing to bet on that. he just seems to hate the mind games of the yoos so much. like with jooin, i think his childhood trauma has burnt his primary to the ground and his secondary has taken the wheel. he's very hufflepuff at a first glance—reliable class president, always taking care of chunyoung and everyone, making sure to keep good relations with the other classrooms etc etc etc. it feels like the hufflepuff that is toiling at relationships knowing their eventual payoff. i know he's the rank 0 fighter (and i'm very curious about that) but i have no idea what that says about him beyond his incessant need not to draw unduly attention towards himself. dunno. i still love him.

#oh how i hate the ravenclawness of that first paragraph but what can you do #the lion reads #i guess #inso post

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frankencanon · 4 years

Text

im working on an au... :)

---

BNHA - Re:Zero "Return by Death AU"

Bakugou Katsuki has a second quirk he doesn't tell people about; Officially, it is known as "Precognition" (unofficially, it is known by his family members as "Return by Death").

---

Right before Bakugou's grandmother died, she finally told his father the truth about their quirk, "Precognition"—and how it's real name was "Return by Death."

She told him everything. And she told him what to do if he ever found himself caught in a Loop with no way out.

She gave him a list of all the people she could find currently alive with Quirks that could cancel out other Quirks.

A few hours later, in the presence of someone with a Quirk that negated the Quirks of all those within a three meter radius, she died.

She didn't Return.

Coroner's report ruled it as poisoning.

---

One day in class there was a Speaker. That Speaker was there to demonstrate his Quirk and the other ways non-offensive Quirks could be used to combat crime.

He asked if anyone in the room had received more than one quirk from their parents, and without waiting for an answer proclaimed that, "ah, there are two of you, wonderful!"

And then he asked them to stand up.

Todoroki, of course, was the first to stand, if a bit reluctantly.

There was a bit of an awkward pause as they waited for someone else to stand. The Speaker got confused. The class asked if maybe they didn't know they got both Quirks? But no, the Speaker clarified, his Quirk doesn't work that way; he only knows what they know.

So, he wondered as he stared straight at Bakugou, why aren't you standing up.

The class watched as Bakugou looked in shock, frozen, before he grit his teeth and stubbornly stood.

Alright...the Speaker looked to Todoroki, if you could tell us a bit about your Quirks?

Todoroki (reluctantly) explained that he got his flames from his father and his ice from his mother, before sitting down again.

The Speaker then turned to Bakugou, who glared.

He stubbornly (while glaring) explained his Explosion Quirk and which parts he got from each parent resulting in his combined Quirk.

But then the Speaker asked about his other Quirk, and. If looks could kill.

Bakugou bit out Precognition, and that he got it from his father (?) who had inherited an extremely weakened version of it from his grandmother.

---

speaker remembers his father who only used it once (only in Dire Circumstances) that he prevented a major bombing (his Death) and how his grandmother was actually famous for her Precognition but how she would never explain in detail how it worked, and how another Quirk user who could detect truths and lies discovered that it likely had another name when he heard her confirm her Quirk as Precognition and yet he could feel the deceit

but he doesn't push Bakugou beyond mentioning it and he leaves without incident

Bakugou brushes off any attempts to speak about it point-blank until people eventually just stop bothering

then some time later, the morning of the trip to usj everything is going as normal until Bakugou suddenly drops his pen, adopts a look of horror, and throws himself out of his desk to vomit on the floor

the rest of the class and Aizawa are understandably shocked.

he then chokes out, his throat sounding raw, to cancel the trip to usj.

and while all the other students are like "whaaa? usj?????" Aizawa knows and so. he's, hm.

this isn't normal behavior for Bakugou, and he hasn't forgotten about the kid's other Quirk…

but Bakugou just keeps repeating the same thing, and when Aizawa presses he finally goes into detail about how villains attacked the usj and they were looking for all might but he wasn't there he was late and they had a villain with a warp quirk and to go for his neck it's solid and they separated them as soon as possible and and there were so many villains and communication was cut off and they sent iida to get help but he doesn't know if he ever made it and Aizawa's skull was crushed and and and

everyone is. hm.

Aizawa grabs Bakugou's arm and drags him out of the classroom to go inform Nedzu about this and and and

later the class sees the news that all of the villains were arrested (the heroes set up an ambush) and.

people with the police or whatever (all might's friend and the cat, maybe?) (Aizawa and all might were already there along with his entire class) had come to talk to Bakugou about the validity of his prediction wanting to know how much detail there was in the prediction and Bakugou was frustrated (and traumatized, but he was pretending he wasn't) and so he just told them he remembered it as well as if it had happened and. well that was a little too close to the truth and he would come to regret that…

they ask him to clarify how it was from his point of view and so he clarified. he clarified that it was like he woke up and went to school and he went on the trip and there were villains and they got seperated and Aizawa got—and then he died and the second that everything cut out, that everything went black, he blinked and he was back in his seat in the classroom several hours earlier and Aizawa was talking about something he doesn't remember and

deku is smart. he's really smart and sometimes Bakugou wishes he wasn't.

so it's almost like time-travel from kacchan's point of view, he mumbles.

and Bakugou freezes before he screeches SHUT UP. and he's panicked, now, everyone can see it, he's frantic, and. Aizawa catches on.

Bakugou Katsuki, he says. what exactly is your Quirk called.

Bakugou flinches, but Aizawa doesn't let up. all might fidgets.

"Return by Death," he grits out.

---

blah blah blah i thought this all up in the shower and there was more but im tired of this for now and the mirror's clear.

ja ne~

---

p.s. did you know subaru's surname is natsuki?? natsuki katsuki natsuki katsuki natsuki katsuki.......katsuki subaru and bakugō natsuki.......jgnfnfk

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lonley-artist-who-likes-mc · 5 years

Text

Intruloceit Oneshot

Pairing: Intruloceit (Remus-Logna-Deceit)

Warnings: Dark side bois, A lil bit unsympathetic light sides?

Genre:Angst then some fluff

Word Count: 1498

Description: Logan snaps after a small confrontation with the light sides, Dee and Remus come and take to comfort Logan

It was a normal day in the mindscape, Patton and Roman were in the common room watching some Disney, Virgil was in his room listening to music and on Tumblr, and Logan was in his room, doing work and repressing his emotions. The dark sides, we’ll get to them later. For now let's focus on Logan. Who consequently felt a familiar tug, Thomas was summoning him.

“Yes Thomas?” Logan states as he rose up in the living room of the real world. Thomas smiles”I have a slight problem, but we need everyone.” Logan felt disappointed that Thomas didn't summon just him, but ignored the feelings. Soon the other three popped up with their own assortments of hello’s. Thomas smiles as the others showed up, ‘did he smile when I showed up?’ Logan wondered, but pushed the thought away.

“So whatcha need us for Thomas?” Patton spoke up, his voice as bubbly as usual.”Well, The new video coming up, i need some ideas” Logan looks over at Thomas, he actually did have an idea. But as he was about to say it Roman and Patton started talking at the same time about ideas. Annoying but ok, he’d wait his turn. He glanced over at Virgil who was watching the two talk with amusement, at least he found this funny. Logan, he found it very irritating and irrational.

“Guys!” Thomas buts in”One at a time please!” So Roman and Patton calmed down, Logan was very appreciative of it. Patton went first”I think we should do a video revolved around animals!” Thomas nods and hums”Ok i can get behind that” Logan looked confused for a second but shook it off, You can't physically stand in front or behind an idea but alright. Roman went next”Why don't we go into the imagination! You’ve never been there and neither have the fans!” Thomas’ eyes sparkle at the idea”Great idea Roman!” Roman smirks”I know, but thank you” Logan fought not to rolls his eyes

Virgil spoke up,”Why don't we do one about how to deal with different types of heightened emotions” Thomas nods, holding his chin”Very thoughtful, and could teach the fans a lot!” Logan was about to talk but Roman cut in”Well i say my idea is still the best” Thomas looked at Logan and back at Roman. “Roman, Logan still hasn't said his idea yet, that was rude.” Roman looked at him taken back.”Well what could Mr.Microsoft Nerd over there possibly have as an idea that doesn't involve a lot of math and boring things?”

Logan could feel his anger rising up in him and had to keep it at bay, clenching his teeth for now.”Well you don't know that now do you?” Thomas shot back sassily. Patton spoke up”Well, Logan, what is your idea?” Patton smiles, Logan could see it was forced. Patton didn't like going out of his comfort zone, and Logan, who did not care for emotions as much as he did, was clearly out of his comfort zone.

Logan fixed his glasses”Well. Now that I patiently waited for my turn to speak, My idea was to have a video based on different career paths Thomas could of chosen-``''But why? He has a perfectly good one right now!” Roman buts in.”Ya, I mean, Logan, Thomas has a nice job that pays well and he's doing what he loves!” Patton adds. Virgil nods ”There’s not really a point to it Lo” Vigil comments.

Thomas looked like he was about to say something, but Logan couldn't hold down his emotions any longer, he wasn't able to let them out in a healthy way recently, oops on his part.

“You know what? Fine! If you cant even hear me out you do this by your damn self. Leave me out of it, cause im not coming back for this next video, we’ll see how useless I am now” Before anyone could retaliate Logan sunk down to his room and tears started flooding down his face, and his knees felt weak. Logan sat down on his desk chair and began to softly weep. Until he heard someone rise up into his room.

“What do you want now? I'm not changing my damn mind about coming back ``''Oh, and we don't want you two either!” Logan sat up straight and swirled around to look at the dark sides before him. Deceit and Remus were both there”Wha-How-Why-?” Logan couldn't get out any complete sentences, making the other two chuckle. The walk up to him. Deceit leans in close, making Logan’s back press against the chair, trapping him there. Logan was vaguely aware Remus behind him, holding onto the chair.

“We saw and heard everything just now, Logan. How they all got to share their ideas and opinions and how they just shut down yours without a blink of an eye, all three of them. Deceit spoke, for once not in lies. Logan looks at him suspiciously”Why aren't you speaking in lies?”.Both dark sides chuckle”Well Logan, there's certain ways we only act like around Thomas or when we feel like it. For me, that's lying. Remus, he's pretty much the same” Remus pokes his head out s Logan can see him”Im just toned down a bit around the cameras! Logan looked at both”So, why are you two here then?” Logan didn't like the smirks that went across their faces at that moment. Logan gasps when Deceit grabbed his hands and pulled him out of his chair” Well you See Logan, this isn't just for our benefit, its for yours to!” Deceit started to circle him, as did Remus. Remus laughs some”Haven't you just wanted to get away from these light sides, even for just a day? Cause i know how upsetting my brother is!” Logan looked like he was actually considering it.

Suddenly Both of them stood behind Logan, then both of them hug him. Remus hugging his shoulders, Dee hugging his waist”Cmon Logan” Dee coo’s.”Just come with us to the dark side, just for one day! Who knows, you might like it~” Remus tempts. Logan looks at each of them and bit his lip.”Come with us, we have a room waiting for you and everything. We’ll make you feel wanted” The two said in unison.

Logan looked at the two then around the room, he felt the familiar tugging of Thomas trying to summon him, making Logan frown. Wiping away the last few tears, Logan ignores the summoning, closing his eyes”Lets go” He saw the two beam and and sunk down with him in their arms.

~~~~~

When Logan opened his eyes the three of them were in a living room like area, looking similar yet different than the lightsides. Looking around curiously he seemed to forget why he was there, till a voice pulled him back.”Would you like to see the room we made for you Logan?” Dee coo’s. He looked at the eager Remus”I made it! Dont worry theres no excitingly dangerous things in there!” Logan fought back a smile and nods. The two leg go of him, making him slightly sad, but followed them.

To say the room shocked him was an understatement. The ceiling was a bunch of stars with lots of noticeable signs in them, and it was compiled with a bunch of things Logan loved to do. It was like they took their time making it, making sure it was perfect to Logan’s liking. Logan covered his mouth and felt tears fall, happy tears. Logan felt the two of them hug him again”I think he likes it Remus” Dee spoke. Remus laughs softly”I think he does!”Logan turned in there arms and hugged both of them, shocking the dark sides, and making their touch starved self's crave more.

“T-thank you..S-so..so much”Logan sobbed softly. On instinct the two dark sides hugged Logan closer to them and looked at eachother, secretly vowing to each other to always protect this side with their lives. Remus, in a move of bravery spoke up,”Why don't we all go lay down and cuddle. Im sure we’re all touch starved here!”Deceit looked at Remus nervously then To Logan, who slowly pulled away and looked at the two.

After a long moment of silence Logan smiles a tiny bit and nods a bit”Ya, that sounds wonderful” The two light sides all but tackled Logan in a hug, making him laugh. The sound made the two Boy’s hearts flutter. Slowly but surely they took off all their accessories and shoes and were lying in Logan's bed, cuddling. Dee somehow ending up in the middle. Probably due to him being the smallest an the one needing the most warmth.

But for the rest of the night, the three stayed just like that, happily cuddling and softly talking. This was something they all needed.

#intruloceit #sandersides #thomas sanders #dark sides

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bobasheebaby · 5 years

Text

Walk Through the Fire-Be Careful What You Wish For chapter 5

Pairing: Drake x MC; (past) Liam x MC

Word count: 1,293

Warnings: delusions, manipulation, Evil Liam

Summary: Drake is found, but is he well?

Song inspiration: Walk Through the Fire- Zayde Wolf featuring Ruelle

A/N: A huge thank you to @sirbeepsalot for all of her help and advice and being an ever patient sounding board. (MoE thanks DoE as well.)

Series warnings: Evil Liam, dark!fic, deceit, manipulation, dub con, possible NSFW content, mental illness, delusions, possible character death. This is taking the Liam from TRH to the extreme, he is not the Liam we know and love. By clicking read more you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Where is he? Why hasn’t he come home? Rebecca was frantic as she paced the floor, her mind coming up with every horrible thing that could have happened to him not giving her a moment's rest all night. Please please let him be okay!

“He’s not at the hospital.” Liam’s words giving her a temporary reprieve from her crazed thoughts.

“Are you sure?”

“I promise he’s not at the hospital. I had them check every patient. He’s not there.”

“Okay. What if he’s on the side of the road somewhere, dead or dying?”

“Rebecca, I promise we will find him.”

She looked at him, her sapphire eyes shining with fresh tears. “You don’t know that Liam. I want to believe you but I’m just so damn scared. You didn’t see him he wasn’t himself. He’s just getting more and more paranoid and I don’t know what to do. Olivia said…” She trailed off, unwilling to say the words.

“I know. I know.” He pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head. “We will get him help, he’ll be fine.” He’s far too gone. All that’s left to do now is wait, and then my love we can be together again like we were always supposed to be.

She nodded into his chest, feeling safe and secure, if only for a moment. “I just don’t know what I would do if anything happened to him.”

“Of course, he’s your husband, it’s normal to worry. He’s my best friend, I’m worried too.” It will hurt at first but soon you’ll see this is for the best and that you were always mine. You were never his.

“I fucking knew it!”

Rebecca jumped, pulling back from Liam’s arms. “Drake thank god! Where the hell were you.” She ran to him, stopping when he pushed her back. “Drake?” Her face washed with a mixture of worry and confusion.

“Don’t act like you actually worried about me! I saw you in his arms!” Drake growled.

“Drake. She was upset, she was up all night I was just trying to provide some comfort.” Why won’t you just go away?

“Oh I’m sure you comforted her, just like you always do. Did you fuck your whore in my bed?”

Rebecca let out a choked sob covering her face with her hands. Why does he keep saying this? Why does he insist I’m cheating?

“Drake. That’s enough. She’s been sick with worry we both have been. I called Bastien and Savannah. Bastien is on his way home, Savannah was beside herself with fear.”

“Why the hell did you bother them? All I did was go for a damn drive!”

“You were drunk Drake! I was terrified something happened to you! You weren’t answering the phone. I didn’t know what to do so I called Liam and he came to help me calm down and try to find you.”

“You didn't think to tell her where I was?” Drake gave a forced laugh, hands running through his hair. “Oh of course not! You wanted to play knight in shining armor!”

“I don’t have a clue what you are talking about Drake I was as worried as Rebecca.”

“How could you possibly be worried when you saw me at the damn palace?! I came and talked to you, you saw me!”

“Drake, I assure you if you were at the palace I did not know. When Rebecca called I had the guard search the palace, including the secret tunnel you showed her and they found no sign of you.”

“No! I saw you Li! I know I did!”

“Just like you smelled my cologne on Rebecca when I was out of the country?” Just keep insisting Drake, that’s it.

Drake shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense! I know I saw you! I spoke to you! I know I did!” He raked his hand down his face, frowning as Liam shook his head. “Allow me to refresh your memory.”

‘I blinked as I stared up at the palace, I hadn’t realized where I was going until I arrived. I grabbed my nearly empty bottle. How is this already nearly empty. And left the car. I wasn’t sure why I was there or where I was headed, I just let my feet lead me.

I was more surprised than I should of been when I found myself outside your study door. I took breath as I knocked on the door.

‘Come in.’

You looked up as I walked in. You looked confused. Maybe you were trying to remember if we had something planned. I didn’t give you a chance to speak. ‘It’s fucked Li, all fucked. You never should have named my kid your heir.’

You stood, walking towards me as you motioned for me to have a seat on the couch. ‘What are you talking about Drake?’

I sighed dropping my head into my hands. Why the hell did I come here? ‘We saw the doctor today. There is a reason Rebecca isn’t getting pregnant.’ I looked up running my hands roughly through my hair. ‘Turns out there was a mix up at the lab and I’m sterile.’ Was it really a mix up? ‘It’s not going to happen Li. I’m sorry. You’re going to have to find another way.’

You put your hand on my shoulder. ‘Drake Im sorry, for you and Rebecca. Don’t worry about the heir, how is Rebecca holding up?’ I looked at you and you chuckled. ‘I can clearly see you aren’t taking the news well.’ You pointed at my nearly empty bottle of whiskey. ‘I was wondering if she’s taking it as bad, I can’t imagine it being easy for either of you.’

‘She’s completely optimistic, talking about how we can still have a family.’ I shook my head. ‘I know blood doesn’t have anything to do with it, but I just don’t want to think about using a donor, not now. She doesn’t get it.’

‘It’s normal for you to mourn what you lost Drake. Take your time, I’m sure she understands more than you know. Why don’t you stay in your old room tonight?’ I cocked my eyebrow in question. ‘I don’t want you to get back behind the wheel while you’re upset and have been drinking. Call Rebecca and let her know where you are so she doesn’t worry.’

I nodded, as I stood. ‘Thanks Li.’ When I got to my room I realized I left my phone in the car but I was too exhausted and collapsed on the bed. I woke up this morning and went to talk to you but you were gone.’

“Still want to tell me you don’t remember?” Try to deny it now.

“Drake, I know you believe it happened, but I assure you it didn’t.” You’re making this way too easy for me Drake.

“Stop lying! Stop trying to make me look crazy. I’m not crazy! I know I spoke to you!” Drake shouted, his hands threaded through his hair.

“Drake.” Rebecca felt like her entire life was unraveling before her. She didn’t recognize the man with wild hair and eyes insisting on things that couldn’t possibly be true.

“It’s okay Drake, we’ll get you help.” Liam placed a hand on his shoulder.

Drake pulled away, his arm burned where Liam had touched him. “I don’t need help! I’m fine! I’m not crazy! I just need you to tell the damn truth!” He stormed off kicking a chair as he walked past. I’m not paranoid! Am I?

“Liam.” Rebecca turned to him, a pleading in her sapphire eyes.

“I know Rebecca. We’ll get him help, I promise. We will get him help even if I have to have him committed myself.”

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

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era-of-new-beginnings · 4 years

Text

The Tragic Suicide of Virgil Black Ch. 2

TW: Bullying, Panic Attack, Violence (just a punch), Minor Negligence, Self-Deprecation, Swearing, Unsympathetic Deceit and Remus.

Damien is Deceit* (This was made before the new video so I will start to use Deceit’s real name in the next chapter, but for now I don't want to have spoilers for the new video in case people haven't watched it.)

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

Okay so, Dear Journal, today had started out as a pretty normal day. Until it turned into an utter shit show! One bad thing after another and now I’m just sitting on my bedroom floor writing in this stupid thing….I guess if I’m going to do this whole tell my story thing, I should start at the beginning of the day.

Like I said, it was normal, and right on time Damien and his buds came up to me while I was walking to school.

Virgil was walking down the same path he does everyday, as he had learned a while ago changing paths never stopped Damien. It was almost normal when he and his goonies walked right next to him. He barely had time to react as he was shoved harshly into a fence, the metal digging into his shoulder and his head knocking on it a little. His face scrunched up in a wince before he could stop it, and he wasn’t surprised to find that they had taken his bag.

All of them reaching in and grabbing whatever they could, before throwing it to the ground. He just sighed internally as the (cliche) bullies continued. Eventually, they finally got bored, and with one final shove to him they were on their way. He crouched down gingerly and started to pick up whatever they had thrown out, which was basically everything.

Once that was done he got up and finished walking to our meet up spot with everyone else. They were all there already, Logan and Roman bickering about something and Patton trying to make sure it stayed peaceful. He sighed softly with a bit of a smile before covering it up and walking over to them.

He can see when Patton notices my presence, not only because he perks up like a dog but also because he basically slaps the other two on their chests. Virgil smirks and raises an eyebrow at Roman’s offended noises. Finally both him and Logan gives him their attention, which makes him blush and hope that his foundation covers it. “..Hey guys” He mumbled quietly, which wasn’t out of the ordinary really. His anxiety made it hard for him to talk at school at all but these three always knew how to get close to people.

After getting a chorus of responses back, the bell rings and they all go their separate ways. Except for Virgil and Patton, since they shared first period together. Something was off today though, something was wrong with Patton. Patton liked to keep up his dad like personality, and anytime they walked anywhere together Patton would make a pun or two (or few). Not only that but he had been fidgeting with the sleeves of the cardigan wrapped around his shoulders, which he only did….when he was hiding something.

Not realizing Virgil’s internal turmoil about it, Patton began to get uncomfortable with the silence and started to ramble about the first thing that popped in his mind. Which of course, had to be Winnie the Pooh. Practically regressing into a younger state of mind as if that will make him stop thinking about whatever was bothering him. Virgil had known him long enough to remember his ticks and fidgets. How to tell when he was lying, or nervous, or pretending to be happy.

The thing was, Patton hadn’t lied to them since they’d shared a night crying in each other's arms about their lives. He can feel the pressure in his chest at the thought. Why now? Why would Patton lie to him now, what was so bad he felt like he couldn't tell Virgil. He was sitting now, in a desk in his class. His class….what class was he in? He had to get out, he had to go. He stood up on shaky legs and slipped out the classroom door unnoticed.

Barely making it to the bathroom before collapsing, digging his nails into his arms, his hands moving back and forth between that and tugging (practically ripping) his hair. His chest felt constricting and everything felt wrong. There was an unknown pressure just pressing against every inch of his body. He stayed there for the rest of the period and some of the next one. He wanted to go home, but he knew his mother was at work and would yell at him for just randomly calling in.

So instead, he did the next best thing. He went to the detention teacher's class, knocking lightly on the doorframe as Mr. Sanders looked up at him. They shared a brief bit of eye contact before Mr. Sanders nodded to him and let him into the room. He took up his usual seat in the corner while Mr. Sanders called his teachers to get his assignments.

He stayed there, working silently until lunch. Part of him just wanted to stay where he was, in seclusion, away from any and all people. Especially his three crushes, they would know instantly something was wrong with him and wouldn't let up till they knew. Still, he must've scared Patton earlier by just disappearing.

So instead he just buckled up and grabbed his bag and headed out the door and through the hallway. Trying to calm himself and seem normal by the time he got to the table. Par for the course, Roman was adamantly talking about theatre like usual. Only recently had he roped Patton and Logan into it too. Virgil however had refused aadamatly, saying that he just didn't want to when the reality was he couldn't do after school things much cause he had to help out his mother and Remy.

He sat down at the table, head tilted so his hoodie would hide most of his face. He draws lightly in his sketchbook while barely listening to the conversation until he hears Roman say his name for the third time. Attention gotten, Virgil looks up at Roman’s face in confusion. He realizes that Roman had been talking to him, so he closes his sketchbook to silently say he's listening now.

Roman huffs and gestures wildly to Virgil “see? This is exactly what im talking about! He doesn't even care!” He sneers at Virgil and Virgil can feel the sharp feeling in his chest at the words. “W-what?” he asks, stuttering slightly in surprise. Roman throws his hands up, frustrated “You are stubborn as ever, ignoring me? Seriously? I get that you don't want to be in the theatre but you didn't even hear me out!”

Theatre, of course it was about the stupid fucking theatre. Virgil just sighs and shakes his head “Roman I’m not trying to ignore you, i've just had a bad day. I spaced out, I’m sorry.” And Roman just…. just barks a sharp laugh and glares “we all have bad days Virgil, that doesn't give you a right to be rude to everyone around you. You know what i think? I think that your a self-obsessed asshole! You don't think about anybody but yourself! I mean really, I knew you haven't liked me since the beginning but if you hate me so much, why didn't you just say so!”

Virgil could feel his hands shaking, whether with panic or rage was unknown for now. His shoulders were curled and risen defensively and he had gathered himself enough to glare harshly instead of bawling. He slammed his hands down on the table “of course you think that! I haven't even done anything wrong and yet your spouting nonsense! You didn't even ask why because you were so focused on insulting me and making me the bad guy. Like you always fucking do! I can't believe I ever thought that you'd changed! You are such an arrogant pompous bastard!”

He quickly stood, haphazardly shoving stuff in his backpack while the others gathered from their shock. Patton was the first to recover slightly, scrambling for words “o-okay now kiddos, both of you are spitting out some real harsh things. And over what? So why don't we just- just sit back down and talk through this minor dispute!”. Roman slammed his own hands down on the table, ignoring Patton ``Speak for yourself! You have no right to be mad at me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Virgil just growls, throws on his backpack and goes to walk away. But of course, Roman wasn't one for being ignored. So instead he grabbed Virgil's wrist before he could go any further. Virgil himself felt a spike of fear at the touch and was set instantly on edge “Let go!” he yelled viciously. But Roman only sneered back, ranting on and on, his grip tightening on Virgil's wrist anytime he struggled. Virgil snapped and yelled at him a few times but Roman just rolled his eyes and continued. Virgil was at the peak of his panic and wasn’t standing for it anymore as he teared back and punched Roman in the jaw, effectively making him let go as Virgil turns and books it out of the school and doesn't stop until he’s home.

His breaths are panicked and short and his vision was already starting to blur with sweat and tears. He manages to get to the bathroom before all but collapsing on the floor. Tearing at his hair and scratching his arms. Breathing was nonexistent and he could hear his thoughts spiral violently. Who knew if Roman would forgive him after this or if the others would take his side if he didn’t. He’d lose not only his only friends, but his three crushes. He stays there for hours and hours until he can hear the front door click, signaling that his mother is home.

Shoving himself off the floor and checking himself in the mirror (He looked dead) before fixing himself up to be presentable and going downstairs. He mumbled a quick hello to his mother before helping her with the groceries. He could see her strained smile as she thanked him. He just gives an awkward shrug before finishing putting things away, except for what they were going to use for dinner. He gets the required pans out to start cooking, him and his mom tending to switch cooking nights.

Remy isn’t home yet, but that's not unusual. He’s not even sure if his mom realizes his absence anymore. His hands tighten on the wooden spoon he's using to stir the noodles with. He reminds himself to breathe and not think like that. His mother provides for him, and that's more than enough. He's not ungrateful really, just worries sometimes that she doesn't love them.

After finishing up dinner, he sets the table and serves up the food. Pulling out his phone real quick to text Remy, although he knows that he’ll have to save him food in the fridge. If he even eats that to be honest, though if he doesn't either him or his mom can have that for lunch. They finish up their dinner in silence until his mom retires for bed after a long day and he gets a start on dishes. After those are done he trails up to his room and flops onto his bed. Sighing heavily he shifts to get comfortable and catches a glimpse of the journal on his desk. Thinking back to the reason he has it, he sighs once again and grabs the journal and a pen and starts to write.

Dear Journal, what the fuck is wrong with me!? This entire day was like a train wreck in slow motion and I don't even know why! I don't know what Patton's hiding from me or why. And I don't even know what made Roman blow a short fuse. Here I was starting to think he might actually like me, platonic or not, but i guess i was wrong. What do I do? Apologize to Roman or ask Patton about what he’s hiding?

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So! What do you guys think!? Also your first real option to change the story! Apologize to Roman or ask Patton about what he’s hiding? Lemme know in the comments, the one that gets the most comments will determine the answer. Also send me asks on tumblr! @era-of-new-beginnings

#sander sides #ts deceit #ts logan #ts patton #ts remus #ts remy #ts roman #ts virgil #my writing #trigger warnings #T.T.S.V.B.#LAMP

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