#all of the negativity is slight and just Roman lashing out

[thecatprince]

A Heart Can Be Broken But It Still Beats On

Read it on AO3

Summary: Roman breaks after spending so long trying to do what’s right and failing. The others try and help him, but he lashes out at all of them.

Warnings: Depressed Roman, Suicidal Roman, He lashes out at all the others specifically Janus, Virgil, Logan and Patton, so a bit of character negativity. Really just a lot of angst.

Authors Notes: Another Roman Post-POF Angst Fic? By me? More likely than you might think. I had a lot of fun writing this. Credit for a bit of Roman’s speech goes to @unring-this-bell‘s comic (which you should go check out)

Inspiration credit goes to @transformationloveb. I took some of your prompts and sort of mashed them together, and I think you might like this. 

Words: 2659   

Reblogs > Likes

---------------------- 

Roman stumbled through the rooms of the mindscape. He felt so empty, so deflated and so broken, so desperately, painfully broken. He felt like crying, but no tears would come. He felt so useless, so helpless, so hurt. No one needed him, no one wanted him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if no one even liked him. He felt so fucked up, so goddamn useless, so pathetic. Roman turned the corner to head down the hall to his room trying to keep it together until then. Unfortunately, his room was at the very end.

He heard Remus’ chaotic cackle and it took all of his strength not to break down then and there. As if there wasn’t enough in the world to remind Roman of how pathetic he was, how horrible he was, how disgusting and unwanted he was. He could vaguely hear a voice scream ‘REMUS’ and his thoughts just got louder. If they hated Remus then he couldn’t imagine how much they hated him. Janus words echoed in his head, “If it wasn’t for the moustache, I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.”

He heard voices coming from Virgil’s room, and he looked in as he passed. He saw Virgil and Remus sitting on the floor, bottles of nail polish spread in between them. Virgil was evidently trying to stop Remus from drinking all the nail polish, and they were both laughing. Roman felt a wave of rage flood his body, replaced quickly by the overwhelming feeling of hurt and betrayal. Painting their nails had been a small thing that only Roman and Virgil had done for the longest time now. Whenever one of them was overwhelmed they would go into one of their rooms and get out the large assortment of nail polish Virgil had stored in his room. Of course you would choose him over me, Roman thought bitterly, staring at the two sides. “Hey Ro-Ro,” Remus said cheerily, catching sight of his brother. “Wanna join us?”

Virgil turned around to face Roman, his face immediately turning into one of guilt, then concern as he took in the other sides face. “Of course you replace me with him. Why am I even surprised?” Roman fought back the tears that threatened to spill forth. “Even you prefer him to me.”

“Roman-“ Virgil began, a mixture of guilt and worry on his face.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Roman said. He turned and ran down the hall way. He was vaguely aware of Virgil calling after him, but he didn’t care. He was all out of caring. He needed to get away, to go anywhere but here. He would do anything to make the pain, the loneliness, the brokenness go away. He barely payed any attention to his surroundings as he ran forward and opened the door to the Imagination. He stopped when he saw the state of it.

The green fields and peaceful woods were gone, replaced by brown valleys and dead trees. His kingdom had disappeared, and the sky, usually a bright, brilliant blue, was now a stormy grey. Roman recovered from the shock of how different it looked, and continued to run. He wasn’t sure where he was running to, he only knew that anywhere was better than here, where he was constantly reminded of how unwanted he was and how much everyone disliked him. He kept running until he was out of breath, until his lungs ached and his head was pounding. Even though it hurt, the pain felt so good and refreshing.

He fell to his knees and began tearing at his prince outfit, trying to ruin as much as he could. He didn’t deserve any of this, not his signature sash that now made him sick to look at, not his once pristine white top with the gold embroidery that he had spent such time on. He felt some sort of sick satisfaction at tearing apart the outfit he had spent hours on years ago. He was so naïve back then. He had believed he was worthy of their love, that he was loved, that what he did was good enough. Roman continued to ruin his costume until he was just wearing rags, and he was just left feeling empty. He wanted to cry, to let it all out, to do anything to get rid of all the horrible things he felt, but the tears wouldn’t come. He just sat there, all alone, surrounded by fields of nothing. He shook as silent sobs racked his body, but still he didn’t cry. He was too broken, too empty to cry.

After what felt like hours, Roman calmed down. His face was dry, his body ached and his ragged costume was in a heap on the ground in front of him. If he just stayed here, would anyone miss him? Would they even care enough to look, or would they just continue on with their day as if nothing had happened? As if Roman had never even existed? He could just imagine them sitting around the dinner table, Remus in the chair Roman usually occupied, all laughing or rolling their eyes at some bad pun Patton had made, or listening to Logan recite facts on astrology. They were probably having a grand old time without him. Probably happy too. What he would give to feel happy again, to feel anything other than this aching sadness.

Roman stayed there for a few more minutes until he heard voices in the distance. He must be hallucinating surely. They were meant to be together having fun. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did have to come back and remind him of how shit he was, how much of a burden he was to all of them. Roman wanted to run away, to make sure they never saw him again. But his body ached and he was so tired that he could barely stand. He felt them come towards him and stand behind him. He didn’t know exactly who was there, but he knew that he didn’t want to see them, any of them. He heard them shuffle around, and he could imagine the looks of disgust being passed between them. He could imagine what they must be thinking looking at him crouching down on the ground, wearing rags, so dirty and so pathetic. They would leave soon. They would regret coming. They would realise that they had made a mistake and that he wasn’t worth it. They would leave and forget about him. Forget about how stupid and naïve he was. He waited for the footsteps to recede, but the more he waited the more he realised that they weren’t leaving. He heard someone clearing their throat. He winced, waiting to hear what they would say. Probably how much they hated him and how he was letting down Thomas.

“Roman,” a voice said and Roman felt a renewed wave of rage as he realised that Janus had the audacity to come and see Roman. He had expected sugar coated reasons why Roman had failed from Patton, rude comments from Virgil, hard cold facts from Logan and even something from his twin, but he had not expected Janus to try and sweet talk him the reasons why he had failed this time. He couldn’t take any more from him any longer.

“WHAT?!” Roman yelled, standing up in a fit of anger and whirling around to face Janus. He paused when he realised that everyone was there, but quickly regained himself. “What do you want from me now?”

“Roman-“ Patton began hesitantly, but Roman was so sick of having to bend over backwards to try and do the right thing. He was so sick of being built up only to crumble again. He was so sick of feeling this way, of being treated as another pawn in Janus’ grand scheme, of being manipulated and deceived and straight up overlooked. He had sacrificed everything to do what everyone wanted him to do, he had done everything they wanted and he had been thrown in the dirt like a toy they were sick of.

“I tried being nice, I tried to be better, I have done everything you wanted, what more could you possibly want from me?”

“I-“ Janus began, but Roman cut him off.

“I have sacrificed everything to be the person you wanted me to be, but I am never good enough.”

“Roman-“

“SHUT UP!!!... I mean, don’t call me that. I’m not Roman. He is the person you wanted me to be and I have killed myself trying to make you happy, all of you,” Roman’s voice was cracking and he barely paid attention to the shocked faces before him. “And I am so DONE with being treated like dirt, for doing everything you wanted, for trying to learn and to do what everyone wants me to do and then have it thrown back in my face. Do you know how much it hurts me, every time I do what I think is right, do what I think is good, only to be told that it’s not, that I am wrong? Every fucking time I try and learn from an experience I am told something different. I was mean to Virgil so I try to make it up by being nice to Deceit. And do you know how that goes? I end up being manipulated and in the wrong. So I learn. And now I am once again wrong. So wrong. And I don’t know where I went wrong. I tried being everything you wanted, but I always end up being wrong.

“And no one sees the tears, no one notices the sadness, no one knows the pain, but you all see my mistakes. So I am done. I am done with being the nice guy, done with feeling so pathetic and sad and empty. I am done with trying to be everything you want me to be, tired of having all my ideas criticised and looked over, tired of having to sacrifice everything to be half of what you want of me. Nothing I ever do is good enough, I am not good enough for you. So you will no longer have to deal with ‘Roman’. No more mess, no more drama, no more noise. Sounds nice doesn’t it? Nothing unnecessary getting in your way now.” Roman stood there, taking in the variety of shocked and worried faces. Patton stood out to him the most, tears running down his face.

“Roman, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and you know I love you,” Patton said gently, wiping the tears away.

“Do I though?” Roman asked, sounding more broken than ever. “Patton, you are amazing. I look up to you so much, and for years I have followed in your footsteps, believing you knew the way. And I still believe you do. But you had a choice. And you chose him.” Roman gestured towards Janus. “And do you know how much I suffer to make you happy? I sacrificed the callback to go to the wedding, to make you happy, because when you are happy, Thomas is happy and that is my top priority. But I all I get in return are lies and betrayal. You’ve made your choice, Patton. I have defended you and done everything you wanted, and I was so happy to do that because I was so convinced I was right in doing so. But you didn’t even defend me today. You could’ve done something, you could’ve been on my side, but you chose him over me. He is a liar and cheat and he will build you up just so you can fall down harder, and you chose him over me. What did I do wrong, Patton?”

“Roman-“ Virgil tried to cut in, to try and explain things, but Roman wasn’t finished.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on you.” Roman turned to face Virgil full on, his voice breaking with anger and hurt. ��You constantly put me down. I do everything I can to be nice. I try to stop calling you nicknames, I try to stop insulting, I apologise over and over again, and yet you never do the same. I have tried time and time again to be a better person, and yet you put me down over and over again. You insult me, you shoot down all of my ideas, and every time it feels like a slap in the face. And I am doing everything I can think of to make it up to you for all those mean comments I made before you were accepted, but I am trying my best and I never get a kind word back. Nothing I ever do is ever good enough. And I get that not everything is fine and dandy being Anxiety, but I try my best and it never gets me anywhere. And as for you,” Roman began, turning to Logan, whose face was almost impossible to read, “none of my work is ever good enough for you. I am too extra, too passionate for you. My ideas are always terrible and I can never seem to measure up to your impossible standard of creativity. And you think that you are getting ignored. It would be nice to know that you were at least listened to recently. Do you remember where I was when you were giving your neat little explanation when my dear little brother showed up? I was knocked out on the ground. You think you’re being ignored. You have no idea how much you are being heard.”

“And I am just so sick of being told I am wrong, that I am not enough, that I am just no more than just an unnecessary, extra piece of Thomas that no one really wants anyway. You all wanted me to be good? Well look what you have done. Are you happy now? Now that Roman had finally broken, now that I have sacrificed everything for you? Am I finally good enough? You have all run me to the ground. Is this what you wanted of me? Am I finally right? Or am I wrong again? Like I was with the callback, like I was with Janus, like I am with everything I do? All I ever wanted was to be right, to be a hero, to try and be everything you wanted of me. Is this enough? Am I now enough for all of you? Have I sacrificed enough to be right, to be worthy of being myself, or do I need to go further? Because how far do I have to go to prove myself to all of you? All I ever wanted was to be wanted, to be loved…” And with that Roman collapsed onto the ground.

His body felt limp and broken, but he was conscious. He was so tired and he ached and ached and he felt so empty. He heard his name being cried out as he fell, he saw the sides crowd around him, felt them check if he was okay. He felt strong arms wrap around him, felt his body being picked up gently and being carried against someone’s solid chest. He wanted to fight, to leave, to die, to do anything than stay alive and face another day of this emptiness. But he was too tired to fight, too exhausted to jump out of the arms that felt so comforting to him. He didn’t deserve any of the kindness that they showed him. Because he had to admit, no matter how much they hurt him, they were kind to him. He closed his eyes and just let his body relax into the chest of the side carrying him. He didn’t cry. He was too hurt to cry. A heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating just the same.

[lavender-rebellion]

TRoE Chapter 2 Cover Me

AO3

Masterpost

When Virgil awoke his brain stuttered and halted, a persistent feeling at the back of his mind that he had forgotten something very important. It wasn’t a new feeling, his own anxiety gave him that feeling often, but it was never so heavy and pressing before. There was a heat across his back and around his middle, and sunbeams hit his face with warmth and unwelcome light. This wasn’t his room, that much was clear.

He blinked open his eyes and stared at the unfamiliar wallpaper, and the tan curtains, brow furrowing with confusion. It wasn’t until he spotted a sock-clad foot on the ground that he understood. Yesterday came back with such a force it gave him a headache, the panic that had choked him last night threatening to swallow him once more. He went through his breathing exercises absentmindedly and searched for a clock, finding a digital one on the nightstand next to his face. The green numbers read 7:08 am, the early hour surprising him. He rarely got up before 9, when Patton insisted he woke for family breakfast.

Said man was the cause of the heat he felt, his limbs splayed over Virgil, spooning him like an aggressive sea-creature. A huff of laughter escaped him, fondness momentarily overtaking anxiety and allowing him to get the strength to de-tangle himself from both the blankets and his best friend. He sat up, blowing his purple bangs from his face and taking a minute to stretch. He felt well-rested, apparently, he was drained enough last night that it beat out his insomnia. He stood, his hoodie falling over the plaid boxers he was borrowing, and padded barefoot across the floor. He stepped over Roman, laying starfished on his makeshift bed, drool wetting the pillow cushioning his head, and around Logan, who slept neatly on his back. He spared a moment to snicker at the way Logan’s borrowed pajamas fell above his knee before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.

He crept quietly down the stairs, pausing in his spot for a second and squeezing his eyes shut at the tightness in his throat, and into the kitchen. Virgil tugged his sleeves up from where they covered his hands, opened up a couple of cupboards before finding the coffee grounds, and set to making himself a pot. The bubbling of the machine was soothing in the stillness of the house, and he reached up and rubbed at the center of his chest. He felt hollowed out, the space that usually housed the warm connections tying him to Thomas and the others now empty. A deep sadness wells up inside him, but he’s too worn out to panic or cry. He had done enough of that yesterday. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee and hopped up onto the counter, pulling his legs up and crossing them criss-cross, bare feet tucked under him. He smelled the coffee and let it steady him, and for the next long while allowed himself to think of absolutely nothing while he drank.

By the time Thomas stumbled in, bleary-eyed and rumpled, his cup was halfway empty. He wanted to make fun of the mess of bedhead Thomas was sporting, but knew his own dyed waves were likely a fright. So he just took another sip and watched quietly as Thomas poured himself a cup as well. Thomas, who had startled minutely at the sight of him walking in, looked tired and drained and unsure what to do with himself. Virgil recognized the look well, and it’s what made him speak up.

“Why don’t you come sit with me?” He offered, inching to the left a bit to make room. Thomas looked up at him, baffled.

“On the counter?”

“I think, out of all days, this is one to not worry about what is and isn’t a chair.” Thomas’ lips quirked at the memory, and he set his cup down to climb up as well (much less smoothly, but Virgil didn’t laugh, consider it his nice act of the day).

There was a second where neither say anything, just waking up and adjusting to the weirdness of doing so around each other, but eventually, Virgil couldn’t help himself from asking the question on the tip of his tongue.

“What did you do last night? After you left us?”

Thomas shot him a confused look. “Nothing really, why?”

He bit back the frustrated noise he wanted to make, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes. “No, I mean…” He trailed off to collect his thoughts. Thomas didn’t rush him.

“Up until less than 24 hours ago, I knew everything you did. I was with you every waking moment, and what I did miss I could find in your memories. Not knowing what you did, not having the means to find out, it’s uncomfortable and foreign. For 30 years we were one, and it’s going to take time for me to adjust to being separated.” He met Thomas’ eyes, gripping his mug tighter. “So please, humor me.”

Thomas nodded, something akin to understanding in his eyes but they both know he didn’t really get it. The sides had been separated people, in his mind, whereas for them it was hard to discern where they ended and Thomas began. They were him and themselves, overlapping and interwoven and mirrored.

But he began to talk, and that’s what mattered in the end. “I went downstairs and spoke to Joan, thanking them for coming over because we couldn’t have calmed down and figured anything out without them. Then I asked them to spend the night and we went to bed. When I woke up half an hour ago they were still asleep.” A pause. “I had a moment of panic, waking up and seeing them, knowing it wasn’t a dream. But I knew that if I allowed myself to wallow in the negative I wouldn’t be able to figure anything out today.” He admitted, and there was more quiet. Virgil hopped down and poured himself another cup, letting the warmth soak into his hands.

“Why do you look like that?” Thomas blurted out, before backtracking. “I don’t mean anything bad by it, and I know it’s probably rude to ask, it’s just that you’re small and slim, and it seems like an odd choice for you..was it a choice? Do you get to choose how you look? I know you can shapeshift but-”

“It’s kinda a choice, but it’s also kinda not.” Virgil interrupted his rambling. “It’s not like I’m a midget or anything, I’m 5’6 thank-you-very-much, but a lot of being small is convenient. Like being able to fit in small spaces to hide, or being able to maneuver a crowd fairly easily. Part of it is also because, as a person, you prefer flight to fight. Being compact means I’m more aerodynamic, and I’m pretty fast.” He shrugged, adding, “Plus, I just like being shorter. It can be difficult at times, and I have to put more effort into being intimidating, but I’ve always preferred being my height to being yours.”

Thomas nodded along to the explanation, another look of understanding on his face. Virgil wasn’t upset at the question, though it was funny to watch Thomas trip over himself in asking it. (It was also nice of him to worry about phrasing it right, but Virgil ignored the sappy thought.) It was clear Thomas had more to ask, so Virgil drank and waited for him to ask.

“But beyond your height, you don’t look like me. In fact, you actually look a little like Talyn.”

Virgil chuckled, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. He raised a hand and brushed his fingers over his rounder jaw and pointier chin, his more delicate features, and under his rounder, larger eyes. His lashes tickled the pads of his finger. He opened his mouth to explain. “That’s because when you met them, I saw a lot of myself in them. We’re both short, and edgy, and awkward. But Talyn was also independent, and confident, and intimidating. I thought that was cool as hell , and I looked up to them. Over time my features gradually shifted to reflect that, and reflect them. Just like Roman always has looked up to Disney princes and his features shifted, and Patton looked up to dads. You’re dad, specifically, but some TV ones too.”

“But Logan still looks the same, mostly.”

Virgil grinned, amused, and darted his eyes around to make sure they were alone. He leaned into Thomas. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Logan actually looks up to you . Yeah, he thinks you’re a little ridiculous and childish, but you’re also loose, and fun, and you take risks to achieve your own happiness. Logan respects that, admires it.”

Thomas looked surprised and awed, his eyes soft and his smile softer. Virgil mirrored it. Conversation over, they lapsed back into silence again until Thomas grinned mischievously. Virgil, stiffened, wary.

“So, I’m assuming Patton has freckles because of Dad, right?”

“Yes..?”

Thomas looked at him from the corner of his eye, a shit-eating grin on his face. “So you have freckles because….”

“Hey remember that time in third grade when that new kid moved to your school, and you called out to him to ask him to sit by you during lunch and it turned out it was his twin and everyone looked at you like you were stupid?” Virgil interrupted, fakely cheerful. He ignored the pink rising in his faintly-freckled cheers, and avoided Thomas’s eyes. Thomas groaned and buried his face in his hands. Retribution, bitch.

“Now now, it’s a little early to be bringing up those kinds of memories, kiddo.” Patton bounded in, bright-eyed and chipper. His flannel pants reminded Virgil of the set Patton wore at home, and something panged in his chest. He drank more coffee and ignored it. He quietly mumbled that Thomas had started it, but Patton was already buried in the cupboards.

“Oh, I hope you have stuff for pancakes, Thomas, because after that pizza last night I am really looking forward to finding out how good they taste!”

“You couldn’t taste things before?”

Virgil took a long sip from his cooling cup, content to sit this one out. Hey, he did the last explanation. Patton’s face scrunched up in thought, pausing in his ingredient preparation. Thomas, apparently, did not have stuff for pancakes, judging by the eggs and bacon slices on the counter.

“Well, we could taste. But everything was dulled, all of our senses were. It’s like..” Bacon hit the pan and started sizzling like crazy, “Everything we experienced was based on things you had. They were memories. So when we ate, we tasted the memory of food you had eaten before.”

“Eat a memory?”

“Yeah! If you think right now, you can remember how bacon tastes right?” Patton waved the spatula at the pan for emphasis. “But when you remember it you only get the impression. Or if you think about how something felt and your fingers tingle with the ghost of the touch. It isn’t solid. The only thing we really got fully was sound, and even then it lacked the richness of real life, background noises or how things echoed didn’t register in your memory so we didn’t get them.”

“Real life is very overwhelming.” Virgil agreed, thinking of all the noises he could hear right now like the house settling, his blood moving, even the sound of quiet. But tasting the tartness of coffee he could admit it had its perks.

“But it’s full and vibrant as well!” Patton said cheerfully.

Thomas snapped his fingers suddenly, startling Virgil. Not that he’d ever admit that in a thousand years. “Like Spiderman! When he gets his spidey-senses and everything is dialed up to 11!”

“Exactly!” Patton enthused, before looking over their shoulders and beaming. “Good morning, Logan!”

Virgil turned to watch a tired Logan slip in and make a beeline for the coffee pot, feeling his heart lurch at the sight of his slightly messy bedhead. Maybe he should get that checked out.

“Morning, stretch,” Virgil whispered as Logan passed by him. Logan rolled his eyes and he hid his grin in his coffee.

“So, Logan,” Thomas began, and Logan gave a tired hum as he poured himself a cup. “I noticed that you’re a couple inches taller than me. Why is that?”

Roman appeared behind them, looking like he’d already brushed his hair, and came up behind Patton. He reached around the taller man and snatched a piece of bacon from the plate they were cooling on, grinning around his stollen treat while Patton scolded him. Logan moved and sat at the table, adjusting his glasses.

“You see, as your knowledge grew, so did I. And as the rate of new information slowed, so did my height, until it stagnated around the time of college. Thankfully, as I do not desire to be any taller than I already am.”

“Logan was always the tallest growing up since I had the same growth spurts as you and Virgil has always been a bit fun-sized.” Alright Patton, thanks for bringing up his height again. He really didn’t need to deal with Roman’s wise-cracks this early.

“I haven’t grown since high school!” Roman complained, tossing himself down in the chair across from Logan. “It makes no sense! You’ve certainly grown creatively since then!”

Patton set the plate full of eggs and bacon down in the center of the table, ruffling Roman’s hair playfully. “Maybe it’s your ‘allergy’ to greens. I always warned you..”

Roman swatted at his hand, scowling, but Patton’s laughter caused his lip to twitch upwards. Gross, Virgil thought, raising an eyebrow. Patton called his name and he turned to look.

“Set the table, would you, bud?” Virgil nodded, setting down his cup of cooling coffee, hopping off the counter, and setting to his task. He maneuvered around Joan, who had finally slunk into the kitchen mid-yawn.

“Morning.” He said quietly. Joan just blinked at him, apparently not awake yet. They all sit down at the kitchen table, serving themselves quietly. Patton noticed Joan not taking any food, and looked concerned.

“Do you not like eggs or bacon?”

Joan looked awkward, “I’m actually a vegan.” Patton’s eyes widened, and he gently smacked himself in the forehead.

“Of course, how silly of me! I’m sorry, kiddo, let me find you something. I think I saw some fruit…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to do that, I can get it myself.” They protested, but Patton shook them off.

“What are dad’s for?”

Joan looked a little bewildered as Patton bustled around. Virgil didn’t blame him, Joan rarely talked to the sides, even during shooting, and Patton’s brand of.. everything, took some getting used to. This must be just as strange for them as it was for the sides. A bowl of scrounged up fruit was placed in the center of the table, a little sad since Thomas lacked groceries. The guy never did take to cooking, beyond those Hello Fresh meals.

Virgil dug into his breakfast, listening to the sounds of forks against plates as there was quiet once more. His heart panged, this was usually the time that Patton chattered about everyone’s plans for the day, and Logan would fill them in on Thomas’s scheduled from his little planner. But instead, there was silence, because the future was unknown and terrifying. Without conversation, they all finished fairly quickly, and Patton immediately threw himself in gathering plates and starting the dishes. Roman hopped up to help, as none of them liked to let Patton do the chores by himself. He already did so much. Right now though, Virgil was willing to bet it was a comfort to Patton. Even with the newness of their senses, dishes were a constant.

“I guess its time to talk, then.” Thomas started, reluctant. Virgil was too, picking at the sleeves of his hoodie anxiously. “Going off of the idea that this is all permanent, there are several issues that are going to become a problem. Funds, for example, space, the fact that you don’t have papers, explanations, videos…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath. He looked rough around the edges.“If this does prove permanent you’ll eventually have to get jobs.”

Logan interrupted. “That wouldn’t be wise, not for a couple of weeks. In case this is temporary.”

Okay, sure, but they are ignoring a very important fact. “We can’t get jobs, we don’t have any legal papers. And we don’t have any, because until yesterday night we were manifestations, the voices in Thomas’s head.” He stresses, gripping his sleeve tight and leaning forward.

“I know a guy.” Joan piped up, and everyone looked at them. “I mean, I know of a guy. Who can make nearly perfect records.”

Patton went white as he sat back down, cheerfulness dying into a sober seriousness. “That’s incredibly illegal.” And well, morality has a point. Roman doesn’t seem to think so, however.

“What other choice do we have? As of right now, we are very illegal.” He argued.

“We still don’t have the money that’s going to require,” Virgil mentioned.

“It is going to take quite the amount of papers to fake 28 years of four people.” Logan pondered, staring at the table. Virgil tensed, because oh my god that was a good point.

“I’ll find a way to get the money, okay? Don’t worry about it.” Thomas interrupted sharply, tense and frustrated. He turned to Joan, “Can you please get in contact with the guy for me, and if this situation hasn’t changed by next week I’ll place the order.”

Joan agreed, quiet, sensing that Thomas was stressed to his limit. Everyone else stayed silent, and they moved on.

“You guys are going to have to share the spare room, because I really can’t afford to move on top of everything, and it’s too dangerous to have you stay anywhere else.” He ran a hand through his hair. “As for other necessities, food is probably going to get tight for a while but we’ll have to make do. And clothes..”

“I can look through my stuff for anything I don’t need, it probably would only fit Roman and maybe Virgil, though. I’ll ask Talyn to do the same.” Joan offered, and Thomas sent them a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Joan. The clothes we had on will likely be fine for a while, but eventually, they will wear out, and we obviously can’t afford to do laundry every day.” Logan uncrossed his arms and took a drink from his mug, the coffee likely cold by now. Joan blinked and a look of realization passed over their face.

“Wait, what else did you have on you?” They asked, and all four of the sides straighten.

“I had my sword. It crossed over as well, it’s laying on the floor upstairs.”

“I know I had my phone and my headphones. As well as a dumb sketch of Princey falling off a cliff, but that’s hardly important.” Virgil added, grinning at the offended noise Roman made. “It was from that fight we had two weeks ago, I just never took it out of my hoodie.” He added, shrugging unapologetically.

“I also have my phone!” Patton added, and Logan squinted at him.

“You have a phone?”

“Yeah, for cat videos!” Patton said cheerfully, before saying as an afterthought, “And a ton of pictures of us, since what kind of dad doesn’t have pictures of their family?”

“Yes, well,” Logan said slowly, before his brain seemed to reboot. “I have my planner and pen, likely the most useful since it holds Thomas’ schedule in it.”

“Do the phones work?” Thomas asked, while Joan stood and ducked into the living room. Virgil shrugged, he hadn’t even thought to turn his on after the calamity last night.

Patton didn’t know either. “Let me go get them and we’ll check.”

Joan came back just as Patton left, holding the stupid necklace that got them into the whole mess. Virgil reeled back, flinching, and he wasn’t alone. Both Roman and Logan did as well, wary. Joan gave them an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to throw it out. It could be important to what’s happening.”

“I suggest we smash it! Perhaps that will break the curse that has trapped us here!” Roman declared, but Logan shook his head.

“Or it could trap us here permanently. Joan is correct, the wisest course of action is to keep it safe until we understand more.”

Thomas nodded, taking the necklace gently as if it was going to bite him, and leaving for his room. Patton popped back in then, tossing Virgil his phone. Virgil swore, fumbling for it and letting out a huff of relief when he managed to catch it. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if it broke. Patton winced, sorry, and they both turned their phones on. The start-up screen booted up, a logo colorfully splashed in bright lights before dimming down into his familiar lock screen. A weight slipped off his shoulders and he slumped back into his chair. From the look of relief on Patton’s face, his worked as well.

Virgil tapped around in his apps, checking to see if everything still worked. They did, however, he found to his dismay that his Tumblr account no longer existed. Damn it. He was in the process of creating a new one when a call lit up his screen, his eyebrow raising when he saw it was Patton. He didn’t know how his number got into his phone, he doesn’t remember putting it in. Virgil answered the call and they found that sound correctly traveled through, so it was likely that the phones were fully functioning. As they hung up Thomas reappeared, pleased to see the phones still worked.

“You should put Joan and I’s phone number in, for emergencies. As for you two,” He pointed at Roman and Logan, “I won’t be able to get either of you a phone for a while, but you’re free to use my laptop if you need it.”

There was no warning about going through it, which was fair. It wasn’t like Thomas had any secrets they didn’t know about. Or anything at all, up until last night.

“I hate to interrupt, but I have work soon so I think we should talk about cover stories. People are going to have questions, and we’ll need them for the documents anyway.”

The good mood deflated, and they all sat back down around the table. A few ideas were thrown around but they were just as quickly shot down, and Virgil opted to stay quiet. Eventually, Thomas seemed to think of something.

“It would be easiest to pass Logan off as my brother.” He shook his head though, seconds later, looking disheartened. “But my real family would have questions.”

“Don’t your parents know about your ability?” Joan asked.

“They do, but while they would go along with it my extended family would still want answers. Not to mention everyone who knew me growing up would know that I was an only child.”

“Would it be possible to say I went to live with other family, or perhaps been put up for adoption?” Logan inquired, and Thomas looked deep in thought.

“My parents would never put a kid up, and everyone knows it.” He paused, “But I did go stay with my Uncle Roy when I was a teenager, right around when I was just figuring out my abilities! He’s aware of vaguely what I can do.”

“He’s doesn’t speak to your extended family, either. Just your parents.” Virgil tossed in, sitting up a little.

“Exactly! It totally could have been possible that he raised a kid with no one's knowledge!”

“There was that K-12 science school near his place, perhaps I expressed an interest at a young age and I went to stay with him to avoid the family moving,” Logan added, and Thomas beamed. There were still some holes in the story, but nothing incredibly suspicious. It seemed like it would work.

“I’ll call up my parents and Uncle Roy later, see if they’ll go along with it.”

“They might not, Thomas. This is still incredibly illegal.” Virgil reminded him, but Joan spoke up.

“Then we’ll think of something else.”

“Perhaps I could have been Logan’s best friend? That way I’ll have a link to you. Now, I can’t claim to go to the nerd school but maybe I was a neighbor?” Roman asked excitedly.

Joan looked skeptical, shooting a look between them. “Would that be believable?”

Roman waved him off, rolling his eyes. “Calculator watch and I are friends, even if our friendship seems a bit odd on the outside.”

It was agreed upon, and then there was more quiet. Virgil worried his lip when it became clear they couldn’t come up with the last two stories. There were a couple of attempts, to no avail. It would be way too suspicious if they all had stories connected to Logan.

Eventually, Joan had to leave, and Thomas got up to make those phone calls. Virgil could hear snippets of awkward explanations and decided he’d rather not listen to that. Instead, he stood up, addressing the others.

“I’m going to get ready for the day, my legs are cold.” It was silently decided that the others felt the same, and all four trudged up the stairs, taking turns in getting dressed and tidying up in the bathroom. Virgil managed to get paired up with Logan for teeth brushing, and he steadfastly ignored the rising blush on his cheeks every time their shoulders bumped into each other. He booked it out of the cramped bathroom as soon as he was done, opting to brush his hair later.

Then, they all huddled up on the couch together, Roman flipping on the tv and selecting a random channel with cartoons. Thomas was still talking to his mom in the hallway.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell them. Thank you so much, I love you. Buh-bye.”

Oh good, it sounded like they were going to help. At least something was going their way. A loud series of bangs on the door made him reconsider. Shit, it was probably the government. A neighbor saw or heard, or maybe Virgil’s suspicion that the phones were bugged was right and they heard all about them and now they were going to be experimented on in Area 51 and-

Thomas opened the door and Talyn barged in, looking angry. It was a scary sight, but it cut through Virgil’s panic like a knife and he became aware of a hand in his own, being squeezed tightly. He flushed, glancing at Logan out of the corner of his eye and gently taking his hand back. Logan gave him an understanding smile and that did not help his breathing thankyouverymuch.

“I can’t believe something this major happened and I don’t even get a text! How could you keep me out of the loop on this, Sanders?” Talyn complained, glaring at Thomas, who put his hands up in surrender, before storming over and standing in front of them, arms crossed. And just staring.

Patton beamed up at them, looking delighted, while Roman gave a small wave and Logan fidgeted with his glasses. Virgil just lazily blinked when they looked him in the eye, knowing not to show fear.

“You look like me.” They accused, and he smirked.

“Maybe you look like me.” They just cocked an eyebrow.

“One of us can shapeshift and it isn’t me, so it’s definitely the first one.” They argued, he just shrugged, conceding easily but not offering up anything further.

“Hiya, there! It’s good to see you again!” Patton cut in, offering his hand. Talyn shook it, looking a little dazed at the touch, but came back to their senses quickly and turned back to Thomas.

“Is it permanent?” They asked. Thomas shrugged.

“We don’t know, but we’re assuming it is.”

“What are the cover stories?”

“I am Thomas’ brother, who went to live with our Uncle at a very young age to attend a special science academy,” Logan explained, and Roman tossed an arm over his shoulders, much to his displeasure.

“And I am his childhood best friend.” He declared proudly. Talyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, and Logan shoved Roman off of him.

“Anything for Dad or Grumpy?”

“No. We can’t think of anything.” Thomas admitted, and they seemed to think for a moment, before nodding.

“We can say Virgil is related to me,” Talyn said firmly, surprising them all.

“Will your parents and family really go along with that?” Roman asked.

“It’s just me and my mom, and my mom is a big advocate for human rights. We’ll just say you escaped something bad, like….human trafficking. She’ll agree, no questions asked.”

“That’s great!” Thomas enthused, but Talyn held up a hand, stopping him.

“But she’s going to want to meet you immediately.” They insisted, and they all tensed up.

“Right this second?” Patton asked, startled. Talyn nodded, and they all shared glances between them. Virgil wasn’t really comfortable leaving the house or the others, and it seemed like they all shared that sentiment. But what could they do? He needed this cover story. So he gave a jerky nod and stood up, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

“Lead the way.” He faked nonchalance and hovered in the background as Talyn scolded Thomas once more before heading to the door. He gave a half-hearted wave to the others before closing the door behind him.

Outdoors was...a lot. The sun was really bright, to begin with, and it was hot. Despite the lack of people on the street, it was loud, and he could hear distant laughter and car horns. He paused right outside of the door and breathed it all in, noticing with surprise that he could smell the air. He didn’t know how to describe it, however, so his brain moved on, noticing the vibrancy of the colors.

“Odd?” Talyn asked, paused a few steps ahead with their car keys in hand. Virgil snorted.

“Let's just say I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto.” He said dryly, following them as they started moving toward the car again. Virgil had never been in a car before, not as him instead of Thomas.

“Have you never been outside before, Dorthy?” Talyn joked but was startled when Virgil shook his head.

“No. The Mind Space took the shape of wherever Thomas lived, but if you opened the door you just ended up in the Subconscious.” He explained, opening the door and sliding in. It was surprisingly comfortable. Talyn started up the car, looking fascinated.

“The Subconscious? What was that like?”

“White. It was endless nothingness, filled with things that we weren’t able to be, well, conscious of. But the longer we’re in there, the more things we can see, you’d really have to watch your thoughts then because the Subconscious took things literally. And the more we could see, the less you could see us. If you stayed there too long, you’d cease to exist as a person, trapped in the subconscious as an automatic trait, stripped down to your base functions.”

“Wow.” They said, looking a little queasy. Virgil felt a little panicked just thinking about it.

“Yeah. We didn’t go in there.”

The car was strange, he could feel the movement in his body as they rumbled down the street. It felt unnatural, for someone who had always walked or appeared. But he supposed sinking down would feel unnatural to Thomas, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. Anyway, the rhythm was almost soothing.

“So, how are you coping?” Talyn eventually asked, catching Virgil’s attention from where he was watching the scenery blur by. He blinked at the ridiculous question.

“I’m so stressed I’ve passed freaking out and now I can’t feel much of anything.” He answered honestly, and they winced. “I just wish everything was back to normal. My old life sucked, but I don’t have the slightest clue on what to do now.”

“Your best,” Talyn said firmly, before giving him a smile. He felt off-kilter, at his honesty and their response. “You can only do your best.”

They leaned forward and turned up their music, spending the rest of the ride in silence. They pull up outside of their house and Virgil dragged his feet as he followed them up the sidewalk and inside. Almost immediately a woman popped up, wiping her hands on her apron and scolding Talyn about not texting her to let her know they’d be late. She was a sweet-looking lady, a walking-talking mother stereotype with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, an apron slung over her blue dress. She was also fairly tall, her heels putting her inches half a head above both Talyn and  Virgil. Her stern blue eyes, lined in crows feet, turned to squint at Virgil in confusion. He gave her an awkward smile, shaky around the edges.

“Who’s this?” She asked, and Talyn placed a hand on his shoulder, shooting for comforting but just making him tense more.

“Let's go to the living room, this is a serious conversation.”

The living room kinda looked like it was from the 50’s suburbs, but traces of warmth and love and Talyn were scattered around. It was somewhat cool, but that didn’t mean the couch was any more comfortable. Tayln’s mom sat across from them on a loveseat, looking concerned.

“Mom, this is Virgil.” Virgil nodded his head at the woman, tucking his hands further in his hoodie.

“Nice to meet you.” He said quietly. Talyn began to spin a story about him being caught in human trafficking at a young age, their hands moving wildly around as they explain how he may have escaped but-

“There are still people out there looking for him. Big, bad people, Mom. He’s staying with Thomas right now, along with another escapee, but in order to work, he needs papers. And in order to get papers, he needs an identity.” Talyn explained, worked up. Virgil was a little touched, but mostly uncomfortable at the lie they were spinning. A cover story was one thing, but a cover story to get a cover story? That just felt dishonest. Especially the serious tragedy. But he kept his mouth closed, knowing it was a necessary evil.

“Why doesn’t he go to the police or the government?” Their mom asked, but it didn’t sound judgmental.

“You know our government, why do you think?” Talyn replied, tone scathing. Some kind of understanding dawned in the woman’s eyes, and she sat up straighter, nodding. She gave Virgil a long, searching look, examining him. He fidgeted in his seat, biting his lip nervously before she once again nodded, satisfied, and sighed.

“I’ll help. But we can’t pass you off as my kid, so we’ll have to claim you were my sister’s.”

Talyn blinked, surprised. “But Aunt Natalie died when I was a kid.”

A wobbly smile, something longing and lonely hidden behind false firmness. “Well, she’s the only relative I have, and as callous as it sounds it’s hardly like she can deny the story.” Then quieter, looking down at her hands briefly, “Natalie always wanted a child, anyway.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence, and Virgil is almost too nervous to speak. This is private, not meant for his eyes or his ears.

“Alright, but Virgil would have been 10 when she passed,” Talyn said. Their mother straightened, face once again determined and brave.

“You’ll have to claim you went into the foster care system, then, Virgil. Since so many kids get lost in the system, it shouldn’t be suspicious they don’t have records of you.”

“Thank you so much for your troubles, that should work perfectly, ma’am.” Virgil murmured, relief coloring his voice. She smiled and reached over, taking one of his cheeks between her fingers and pinching it.

“Call me Diane.” She insisted, before standing and brushing off her apron. “Besides, I could hardly leave you in danger. Now I’m almost done with lunch, be a dear and help your cousin set the table?” She winked, making her way to the kitchen. He and Talyn stood, looking a bit dazed at how easy that had been, and trailed after her.

“You don’t have to, I can always eat at home.” He stuttered out. She glanced over her shoulder and looked at him like he was crazy.

“Nonsense, I want to get to know my new nephew!” She insisted, “Now plates are in that cupboard right there, sweetie.”

He shot off a text to Thomas with his new cover story before setting to work, answering the lighthearted questions shot his way by Diane as she cooked. The conversation was smooth and simple, to his relief, and all in all he felt he did a good job considering this was the first non-Thomas person he’d met other than Talyn and Joan.

As he sat down to eat he received a text from Thomas, and he hurriedly opened it only to gape.

Thomas: That’s great! We’ve talked it over and decided that you were adopted by Patton’s family after your ‘mother’s’ passing

Thomas: Patton is very excited XD

“Oh jeez.” He said quietly with feeling. He didn’t know whether to be amused or horrified. Did Thomas really ‘XD’ him?

(A/N: All family members are going to be OC’s for plot convenience and because I know nothing about their real ones. Hope all of this makes sense, and that you only need a grain of salt with the cover story instead of a whole bucket.)

TAGLIST:

@strickenwithclairvoyance @insert--self--hatred

[pllandcompany]

Logan Displaying Known Symptoms of Depression

Disclaimer: I am not an expert or licensed psychologist/psychiatrist by any stretch of imagination. This observation is based solely on my perspective as someone who struggles with depression and my own research. It is my subjective opinion and interpretation not an attempt at a diagnosis. Also, this post goes into detailed discussion of depression and its symptoms. If that is upsetting or triggering to you, please do not read this.

All right! Without further ado, I present my argument on why I believe Logan may be depressed/an allegorical story for an individual dealing with depression.

In no particular order. 

1) Sadness.

This moment always struck me as odd. Joan!Roman is obviously doing the absolute most with the angst over vase. His "manly tears" are way over-the-top and dramatic; most people would witness that and think he's joking or playing it up. But Logan? He's so moved. He's affected to a point that he looks almost like he would cry himself. This could be a sign of his empathy shining through, sure, but it also could be an indicator of his own pain. In my personal experience, when I'm having a depressive episode, there times where I feel raw, on the edge, and the slightest thing can tip me over. This especially happens to me after a long period of shoving down/ignoring my emotions. They eventually and inevitably demand to be felt (thank you, John Green) and the trigger can be seemingly innocuous but end up releasing a great deal of pain. Maybe this is what Logan is experiencing here.

2) Guilt and/or shame.

While there are certainly times in life in which we should feel guilty for our actions, the difference with depression is the level of guilt that a person feels for a perceived wrong they've committed. The perception of their actions in relationship to their deserved punishment/reaction is warped. Example: A person makes a small, correctable mistake at their job. They then turn around and punish themselves with a self-destructuve behavior like self-harm or denial of basic needs. The guilt they feel and the subsequent punishment they dole out is excessive in relation to the actual consequences of their actions. That guilt can develop for a variety of reasons. Long term guilt can also turn into shame, where a person begins to define part of their identity as the "bad" things they've done. Guilt is "I did something bad." Shame is "I am bad." Logan's overreaction to Patton catching him simply having fun with puns happens because he is ashamed of the fact that he was having fun in the first place. His definition of his role and identity as Logic is so rigid that it doesn't allow him any room for showing any emotions or being silly. He already harshly judges himself for times he lets go and cracks a joke; being caught by someone else in that moment is literally terrifying for him, as we can see.

3) Lack of concentration.

Tbh, Logan seemed really scattered throughout the whole first part of Moving On. Virgil even said himself at one point that he had to be the "taskmaster," something Logan typically does in their discussions. When he gets into Patton's room, he is so confused about how nostalgia works that he doesn't even realize the others have already started. Yet...he suggested it and provided benefits for the act of nostalgia which makes me think he had to have researched it. Someone as thorough as he is suggesting something without gaining a full understanding of how it works? I'm not buying it. And to top it all off, he forgets about the effects of nostalgia on anxiety and doesn't catch it until Virgil is already affected. Logan could be experiencing what some refer to as "brain fog," where a person can't seem organize their thoughts or express themselves clearly due to their internal conflict. I describe it like this: Imagine your brain is a snow globe. There a little town encased in the glass and all of their houses are nice and neat in a row. The liquid inside is still and clear and the snow is undisturbed. Then imagine someone picking up that snow globe and shaking it vigorously. The snow is scattered; the glass is now cloudy and the homes are indiscernible. That is how brain fog feels to me. You could also argue this is an example of excessive guilt or shame. Look at how hard he's being on himself for suggesting something that ended up hurting his friend. It was a mistake, sure, but it wasn't an intentional slight against Virgil and he even tried to fix it once he recognized what was happening. He's not being fair to himself.

4) Agitation or irritability.

This symptom is so often misunderstood as a person just being a jerk when really they're just in pain. Right before this, Roman calls his penchant for going above and beyond with clarity "stupid." But Logan being Logic, that comment had to hurt. Logic is all about being precise and clear. Clarity is essential to Logic; it's what ensures that he is understood. Roman essentially rejects him and invalidates his identity by insulting him in this manner. But Logan can't break down so his knee jerk defense mechanism is to lash out in anger. The fact that he escalates to physical violence implies that a) the verbal wound cut pretty deep and/or b) he has been internalizing all these (sometimes merely perceived) slights against him for too long and he is reaching a breaking point.

5) Repeatedly going over thoughts.

Obsessive or persistent thoughts can be an indicator of depression, especially if those thoughts trend negatively, such as dwelling on past mistakes or failures. We all know Logan hates being wrong. How do we know that? Because any time he is wrong, he either refuses to admit it or expresses in some way that he is uncomfortable with failure/admitting he is wrong. Any. Time.

(Above is Logan after Roman told him he was wrong about nostalgia being good for Thomas.)

6) Loss of interest in activities previously enjoyed.

One thing i think most people that deal with depression will agree on is this: it is exhausting. You're wiped from constantly fighting your mind and your will and that exhaustion can lead to a lack of a desire to do anything, much less something you enjoyed. But another reason one could lose interest in a once enjoyed activity is because the activity itself has a negative association with it. This is what I believe may be happening with Logan. Sorry, but we have literal proof of him having dorky interests and being totally okay with "playing dress-up." Now all of a sudden we're supposed to believe he's past all of that? It's too "childish" for him? I'm not convinced. Look at these earlier moments. He's not uncomfortable at all.

And then we have Fitting In. Sure, he goes along with the sorting for Virgil's sake. But then Virgil doesn't pick a house at all. And we get this moment.

I find it interesting that this happens right after a discussion that revolved around finding your place and defining one's identity. A discussion in which Logan practically loses it anytime someone mentions the possibility of him being defined as something other than "the smart one." Makes me wonder what he's really running from: being seen as childish or the fact that the childish activity may cause him to confront some complicated issues within himself.

If you've stuck around this long, you must really love Logan Sanders as much I do and i appreciate your support in his protection squad! But seriously, I hesitate to view him as a true antagonist in this series. I think that belittles his struggle with his identity and emotions. Am I saying he's canonically intended to have a mental illness? No, not necessarily but it's certainly possible. At the very least, his journey could be an allegory for someone who does struggle with these issues in real life and I would hope that treatment of such subject manner would be done sensitively and with respect to those whose behaviors may be misunderstood.

Tldr; Logan is not a jerk or just unnecessarily mean; he's genuinely and possibly unknowingly hurting and deserves the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. And special shout out to @apologieslogan for spurring me on to do this. It's been banging around my head for a while. I hope I explained everything clearly enough!

[thechildoflightning]

Ch7- Quadrennial (February)

Title: Calendrical Consequences [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: eventual LAMP, background Logicality

~~~

Chapter Title: Quadrennial (February)- Chapter Seven

Summary: Virgil talks to his friends and sorts a few things out, including a possible crush.

Warnings: Discussion of PTSD and trauma, unhealthy family relationships, shutdown (mentioned)

[ao3 link]

~~~

Quadrennial (February)- Chapter Seven

February 5, 2019

Virgil spent the next two weeks avoiding Roman. An avoidance that both the other roommates had caught onto. (Or well, Patton had caught onto it and had become noticeably worried. He then pointed it out to Logan, who seemed less noticeably worried and instead like he was constantly on the edge of saying something about it whenever Virgil was in the same room as him).

The tension between Roman and Virgil continued to build as the days passed, with the other two roommates awkwardly caught in the middle.

“Virgil,” Patton finally said at their weekly lunch, “What’s going on with you and Roman?”

“What do you mean,” Virgil hedged as if he didn’t know exactly what Patton was talking about.

“I mean the fact you’re avoiding him.”

Virgil took a bite of his food so he wouldn't have to respond. Patton gave him a look. Virgil suspected Patton knew that he was diverting. 

“I'm not avoiding him,” Virgil eventually said. He crossed his arms in defense and leaned back. Trixie saw the action and whined. He relaxed his arms. Patton just stared at him. 

“Okay,” Virgil said, “So I am avoiding him, but it's okay. It's not like he cares.”

Patton frowned and leaned forward slightly. 

“What do you mean Roman doesn't care?” Patton asked. 

Virgil shrugged, “We had a fight,” he explained, “It's okay though. He made it clear what he thinks.”

“And what does he think?” Patton questioned.

“That I'm too difficult a person to be friends with. And that's fine and whatever. I get it.” Virgil aimed for a nonchalant aloofness, but he couldn’t help but find himself scraping at the polish on his nails. Patton just picked at his food, luckily unaware to Virgil’s visible anxiety.

“Virgil,” Patton said slowly, “I don't think that's what he met. You probably misunderstood. I know Roman cares about you.”

Virgil pushed away from the table, sliding his chair slightly back with an annoying screech. 

“Well, he’s been kinda shit at showing it, telling me that I'm too much to handle or whatever,” Virgil huffed.

“Did he say that?”

“Not exactly, but-”

“So he doesn't think that your oof much to handle. Look, Virgil I think you might be misinterpreting what he's saying-”

“Oh of course the guy with PTSD can't figure out what's reality and what's not,” Virgil snarled. He placed his hands on the table and leant forward in a desperate attempt for some sort of control in this entire situation.

“Virgil,” Patton spoke, “that's not what it meant. You know that.”

Tears sprung to Virgil's eyes. Everything was going the exact opposite way that he wanted it to. It was all spiraling out of control and he didn’t know what to do. So Virgil got angrier. (That was at least one thing he could still control).

“I don't know, to me it seems like you’re just gunna side with Roman and not care about the things he said to me,” Virgil lashed out.

“Virgil that's not what I said- let's just- look you’re taking this the wrong way- I-”

“Right. I'm taking this the wrong way,” Virgil muttered. He stood up quickly, his chair sliding back sharply with the movement. 

“I'm gonna head to class,” Virgil told Patton stiffly. 

“You don't have class for another-” Patton seemed to forget when exactly Virgil’s next class was, “A good while,” he estimated instead. As Patton spoke his eyes were wide and his body was relaxed.

“I need to be there early.” Virgil didn’t even believe the lie himself. He doubted Patton would either.

“Look, Virgil, just sit down, we can talk about this-”

“Bye,” Virgil muttered before stalking off. 

And if he only returned to the apartment to sleep that night, well whatever, right?

-

February 6, 2019

Logan found him at the East Field. Of course it was Logan who found him; it was Logan who had shown him the secluded field in the first place. Trixie was bounding around, playing in the field as Virgil allowed her a break. She'd been working a lot lately. 

It was Trixie who alerted Virgil to the other’s presence. She came racing over to Virgil only to run right past him, panting loudly. Virgil turned to look at her and found her wagging her tail frantically as she begged for pets from Logan. Logan was complying, petting the excited pup and showering her with compliments. Virgil waited. 

Eventually, Logan stood up completely and walked towards Virgil. He took a seat next to the other boy.

“Did Patton tell you?” Virgil asked with a sigh.

“Did Patton tell me what?” Logan said with a frown. He didn’t meet Virgil’s eyes, but did turn to face him. His soft hair blew in the wind.

“Did Patton tell you that I yelled at him?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t. You did?”

“Yeah. I feel kind of bad.”

Logan picked a blade of grass and played with it for a moment. After a moment of his fiddling Virgil spoke up again. 

“Are you mad at me?” Virgil asked. 

“I don't think so,” Logan replied, his face scrunching up, not unlike an adorable rabbit, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I yelled at your boyfriend. And I caused you to have a shutdown.”

“You didn't cause me to have a shutdown. Those happen,” Logan reminded him.

“Yeah, but it was triggered by me,” Virgil pointed out.

“Did you do intentionally?”

“No, but-” Virgil started to argue.

“Would you intentionally do it in the future?” Logan continued.

“No-”

“Then don't worry about it,” he finished with an easy grin.

Virgil growled. 

“It isn't that easy,” Virgil tried to explain.

“What isn’t?”

“It's- I worry about everything. You can't ask me not to worry,” Virgil insisted. His hand reached down to firmly press against the ground.

“Okay. Then what can I ask you to do?” Logan asked instead.

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, looking to his friend with a slight frown.

“You’re my friend. I don't want you to blame yourself and worry about things you don't need to. How can I help with that?” Logan turned to face him.

Virgil shrugged, “I don't think you can.”

Logan frowned and went back to playing with grass. 

“I hate my parents,” Logan admitted, “And I also love them. It's very complex yet very simple. The other night, what did you want to know?”

“Logan, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” Virgil said with a sigh.

“I do want to talk about it. Especially if you think it might help you,” he replied, “I just had to figure out how. Ask.”

Virgil hesitated for a moment before nodding with a sigh. 

“They did horrible things to you, yet you still love them. How?”

“They did what they thought was best.”

“Yes, but it wasn't what was best,” Virgil said, pointing out the most obvious answer. Logan began to rock ever so slightly at Virgil’s side.

“Which is why I both resent them and love them. Trust me, it's not something I'm completely comfortable with either. I feel both love and resentment, but honestly I'm not sure how I can feel both. I just do.” Logan answer was open and honest, his vulnerability encouraging Virgil in a way that he hadn’t yet noticed.

Virgil nodded and watched as Logan stopped rocking and continued to mess with his grass stalk. Virgil thought for a moment before settling on a new question.

“What's one thing you would want to change in the relationship with your parents?” he asked.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. Instead he just rolled the  piece of grass between his fingers, a slight frown on his face.

“I want to forgive them and not resent them anymore,” Logan admitted, “but I'm not ready to do that until they accept that autism isn't a flaw or something to overcome. I need them to accept that being autistic is a part of who I am and doesn’t have to be a negative trait. It can just be.”

Virgil opened his both and closed it and gave a nod, thinking. 

“Logan, would you be willing to do me a favor?”

-

February 9, 2019

“We need to talk,” Roman said, swinging into their shared room.

Virgil shrank into the wall. Maybe if he made himself small enough he wouldn’t be seen and Roman would go away. Then they could continue to avoid each other and ignore the elephant in the room. Sure, that meant that things would never get fixed, but it also meant they didn’t have to go through the awkward process of actually fixing things. Smart, right?

“Virgil,” the younger boy insisted.

Virgil sighed but nodded. They needed to have the conversation. Virgil knew they did. 

“Right,” Roman started, “You’re avoiding me.” Virgil’s face immediately heated up.

“I am not-”

Roman gave him a pointed glare. Virgil grumbled but didn’t say anything else.

“Yeah, so you’ve been avoiding me. Specifically since the night when you came back from your talk with Logan. Look, I know what I said. And I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“But you did mean it,” Virgil forced out.

Roman sighed and moved back and forth on his bed. Virgil could only guess that he was figuring out what to say next.

“Yes and no,” Roman hedged, “Okay so, Virgil, I know you’ve been through some shit. And I know that you're working on all that. But, it’s like, at some point it can be too much. Like, I don’t know how to help you. I won’t always be here to help you. I worry that you won’t be able to deal with that yourself. I’m here to support you, but I’m afraid you will come to rely on us and stop getting better.”

Virgil just blinked at his roommate, more than slightly taken aback.

“Well?” Roman asked.

“I am both so fucking pissed and also extremely touched,” Virgil admitted. His brain was firing like crazy trying to make sense of the complete mess of Roman’s words and figuring out a way to explain.

“What?” Roman asked, tilting his head adorably. God, the stupid lovable idiot.

“Look, yes, I’m working on dealing with my trauma better. But Roman, what you need to understand is that coping with it better doesn’t mean I get better. It’s still as bad as it ever was, I’m just able to handle and deal with that bad. Mental illness isn’t just fixed. There are some things I will always freak out about. I’ll probably always need more reassurance than most that I’m cared about and not at fault. That’s one of the many outcomes of being abused and having PTSD and an anxiety disorder. 

“On the other hand, you’re right. I can’t rely on you, I need to be able to handle my problems myself to an extent, and have my friends support me, but not deal with my issues themselves. Me not looking to you for support at all and me relying on you completely are both unhealthy. You’re right about that. 

“But that’s a process, and that’s why I’m going back to therapy. And you pointing out how I’m relying on you too much is good. But, it can also be extremely triggering for me. Even if you don’t mean to be giving me feedback in a critical way, my mind automatically takes it there as a result of bad self-worth and years of abuse. I need you to be more careful when telling me these things so that I can work on them instead of self-destructing.”

Roman was leaning forward and nodding along. His eyebrows were knitted together and his hands were clasped in his lap.

“Okay,” Roman said, “that makes sense. But how do I do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do I tell you that I think you might be doing something that’s not healthy, like blaming yourself for things you shouldn't, or relying on us too much.”

Virgil sat still for a moment. To be honest, he hadn’t even thought about it. This was a new step for him too.

“Uh, okay, um. First, I need you to tell me you care about me. Then tell me what you think I might be doing and why it’s hurting me and how I could help me instead.”

Roman frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, when you were mad about me blaming myself for example. You did really good at first because you reminded me that you cared about me. I need that, because I tend to forget that you do care, or I convince myself that you don’t, because for years of my life I was repeatedly told that no one could care about me. 

“Then after that maybe you could explain that you think I’m blaming myself too much and say that doing that hurts me because I’m not giving value to myself. From there you can then say stuff like, ‘hey maybe you should talk to Picani about that’ or ‘hey Virgil, is there something reasonable that I can do to help you’ or ‘hey, Virge, I think you’re overdramatizing the situation, maybe try taking a step back and see another point of view.’”

Roman continued to slowly nod along while Virgil talked. When he finished, Roman opened his mouth to speak.

“I can do that,” Roman agreed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two smiled at one another. God Roman was cute. Wait what?

“How about pizza for dinner?” Roman asked, “I don’t think Logan will care about not having to cook. It’s been a long two weeks for everyone.”

Virgil swallowed.

“Sounds good,” he replied weakly.

-

February 11, 2019

Now that each of the three had approached him, it was Virgil’s turn. Admittedly, he was putting it off, trying to wait for the right time. But when both Virgil and Patton were awake in the middle of the night, Virgil knew there could be no more putting it off. 

Patton came stumbling into the room, glasses askew. He took a step back when he saw Virgil, but sighed and continued into the room. 

“Tea?” Virgil asked. 

Patton nodded and took a seat at the table. 

Virgil grabbed another cup and filled both of them with warm water. He grabbed the box of tea bags and brought all of them to the table to join Patton. 

“Nightmares?” Patton asked him. His tone was still kind, but much more curt than usual. Virgil winced a bit as he continued to come to terms with the consequences of his actions.

“Yeah,” Virgil admitted, answering Patton’s questions.

“Normal?”

“...no, different. Pain?”

“Nah. Dysphoria. Got my period for the first time in a year.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence sipping on their tea. 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil offered. Might as well start with that. 

“It's not your fault that my body and brain hate he each other kiddo,” Patton said, reaching for Virgil’s hand. The younger of the two allowed the contact. 

“No,” Virgil clarified, “I mean for the other day. I was really rude when you were just trying to help.”

He had been, hadn’t he? Now that he had time to think, Virgil could recognize he made a response out of fear and in a desperate attempt to gain back control of an impossible situation. The problem was that in that attempt he ended up lashing out and hurting people he cared about.

“Aww, V, sweetie, it's okay,” Patton reassured, going to instantly forgiving. (Patton did that a lot- forgave people too easily).

Virgil shook his head, “It's not okay. That's the thing. You were right. I needed to talk to Roman and I was blaming myself a lot. I talked to Roman and I'm going to talk to Picani. But in that conversation with you, I went to a bad place. I blamed myself for being a horrible person and hard to deal with. Because of that, I lashed out at you. That wasn't fair to you.”

Patton smiled widely and squeezed Virgil’s hand. 

“Thank you,” he told the younger boy. 

Virgil just squeezed back. 

“Video games?” they both asked simultaneously. They burst into laughter. 

Yeah, things were going to be okay. 

-

February 17, 2019

“Hey Mom, it's Virgil. Sorry I missed you. Uh I'd like to talk to you again. And you said you were in Florida? I mean, depending on where you are, maybe we could talk in person? Uh let me know. Bye.”

~~~

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: Remember that Roman angst I hinted at? Well, here it is. Apparently, Marin (aka ssides) inspired me to write a thing a while back, and I’m finally posting it. This is kind of a companion piece to “Perfectionism Killed the Prince...But Love Brought Him Back” but not as angsty. 

Summary: In which Roman is having a bad week, so he goes through and looks for Prince hate stuff. The Sides try to help, but eventually come together for the best case solution.

Word Count: 3,853

Characters/Pairings: Roman, Patton, Virgil, Logan (platonic/familial LAMP/CALM)

Genres: Angst(ish), turns into Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: self-deprecation, cyberbullying, crying, arguing, yelling, implications of perfectionism (let me know if I missed any!)

Tags:  @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @ssides @pantasticpanini @anxious-but-whatever @celiawhatsherlastname @misc-merde @anxiousoddish @didsomeonesayprince @fandomsofrandom @leesacrakon  (let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from my general tags list)

 Sometimes, when you’re having a bad day, you want to escape from the world, enshroud yourself in a cocoon of social ignorance, and wait out the storm. Often times, Roman is this kind of person; usually, he blasts Disney music or distracts himself with creation to keep the negativity at bay.

Today, however, isn’t one of those days. Roman doesn’t want to ignore the hate, the trolls, the spam comments.

He does deserve it, after all, does he not?

He’s only produced garbage ideas all week long, so it’s only natural that people should lash out against him. He’s only ever caused conflict in a Sides video, so why shouldn’t people complain? He’s only ever antagonized the other Sides, so why shouldn’t loyal fans call him out?

They should. They should. They should.

“Hey, Virge?” Patton asked, glancing over his shoulder at the Side slouched at the kitchen table.

“Yeah?” The Anxious Side didn’t even look up from his phone.

“Can you go get Roman, please? This is almost ready.”

“Do I have to? His room is just so…extra.” His lip curled in disgust.

“I think it’s fun!” Patton smiled, and he shot the slouching Side one of his signature puppy-dog looks. “Pleeeeeaaase, Virge? I don’t want to leave this alone.”

“But Patton, we’re in the MindScape, nothing’s-oh whatever.” Virgil sighed and stood, knowing full well that arguing with Patton was useless. “Be back in a minute.”

“Okay, thanks, kiddo!” Patton started to hum as he stirred up whatever was boiling in the pot in front of him.

With a small shake of his head (and an even smaller grin), Virgil sunk out of the kitchen and into the hallway in front of Roman’s room.

“Roman?” Virgil knocked on the Prince’s door, surprised to find the knob locked. “Hey, Roman? Patton wants you to come downstairs. He made….something…”

“I am not ready at present, but I will come down when I am, thank you, Virgil.”

Virgil’s chest began to pound. Princey sounded….angry? Sad? Some weird, uncomfortable combination of the two? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it, and it instantly set his instincts on edge.

“Hey, Roman, are you…okay?” He heard Roman try to quietly clear his throat.

“Yes, of course, Virgil, I’m fine.”

Virgil bit his lip, knowing something was up, but also knowing how stubborn Roman could be. “Uh, okay, then, I’m going back down, but you need to come, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

Virgil sighed for the second time in 10 minutes and decided to take the long way back to the kitchen.

As he padded down the stairs, he saw Logan still settled in on the couch, his nose buried in Carl Sagan’s “Pale Blue Dot.”

“Hey, Logan, food time.” Virgil approached the Logical Side and tapped him on his knee to pull him out of his reverie. “Also, haven’t you read that already?”

“Yes, but there is definite benefit to reading a work on multiple occasions, particularly if said work is by Carl Sagan. Also,” Logan sighed, marking his place. “I don’t see why Patton goes through the trouble of cooking for us. We do not actually require physical sustenance, and even if we did, Roman could simply conjure food for us.”

“I think he likes it.” Virgil’s gaze strayed toward the Side happily humming in front of their kitchen stove. “Gives him…purpose, or something, you know?”

“Perhaps…”

“Good evening, Space Bland!” Virgil flinched at the Creative Side’s sudden, loud entrance; he turned sharply, throwing Roman a peeved glare to which the Prince returned an apologetic grin. “I see you’ve found a new novel to nerd over.”

“It is not a novel, Roman-“

“I know, I know, it’s an informational, expository text; I was going for the alliteration there, Logan. Work with me for once, man.” Roman’s tone had a hint of a bite to it, but he quickly covered the action with a dramatic, what one could call, stage sniff. “Oh, Patton, precious Padre, that smells heavenly! Your culinary craft really has improved!” Roman strode grandly into the kitchen and grabbed Patton from behind, wrapping the father figure in a warm bear hug that lifted the smaller trait off the ground.

“Well, thanks, kiddo!” Patton choked out with what breath wasn’t forced out by Roman’s tight embrace. “I know you like spaghetti, so I really tried to do it like Joan showed Thomas this time.”

“You’ve done well, Padre, and you effort is acknowledged!” The Prince set Patton back on the floor and sat in his place at the kitchen table, idly scrolling through his phone while he waited for the food to be done.

Virgil quietly left Logan to finish the chapter of his book and silently slipped into his chair across from Roman. The Anxious one studied the Creative Side’s features carefully, noting the slight downturn of his lips and eyes and the hint of a crinkle on his forehead. He watched, his eyes widening a bit, when Roman roughly hit the home button on his IPhone, sighing to himself and seeming to click onto a different app.

“Everything okay over there, Princey?”

“What?” Roman didn’t even look up from his phone; Virgil could see the light blue of the Twitter loading screen reflecting off Roman’s face and eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Fine.”

Roman’s eyes suddenly scrunched together; the prince bit his lip and slammed the phone down on the table.

“Whoa, kiddo, everything okay?” Patton jumped a bit and turned to face Roman. He plastered on his best care-free smile, but his eyes radiated concern.

“Y-yeah, fine, of course. I’m just going to….wash up.” Roman explained lamely, rising quickly and taking the stairs two at time.

“Well…that was-“

“Weird. Odd. Unsettling. Foreboding.” Virgil grumbled, reaching for Roman’s phone before Patton’s indignant tone brought him to a screeching halt.

“Virgil Sanders! What are you doing? That’s Roman’s phone!”

“Pat, there’s something wrong with Roman. When I want to get him earlier, he was acting really weird, and now this? I want to see what’s up.” Virgil flipped over the phone and managed to tap on the screen right before it went dark. His eyes scrutinized the screen for just a second before a frown re-shaped his entire countenance.

“You may think my precious Logan’s an egghead, but at least he’s not an Egomaniacal Prince!”

“Virge, what’s wrong?” Patton came behind Virgil’s chair and looked over his shoulder.

“The Prince character is so obsessed with himself that if he saw himself in the mirror, he’d fall in love and never leave that spot. #Narcissist.”

The fatherly trait’s eyes instantly filled with tears when he read the text on the screen. “Roman’s….reading hateful things about himself?”

“Roman is so bossy! He’s bringing them all down by trying to be in control all the time!”

“What the heck?!” Virgil’s voice was laced with concern. “Princey….why would he do this?!”

“Why would I do what?” Roman asked as he breezed back into the room, his familiar smile on his lips before he registered the presence of his phone in Virgil’s grasp. “Virgil.” Roman began evenly. “Why do you have my phone?”

“Because you’ve been acting like a-“

“You’ve been…off…and we were concerned.” Patton cut in, shooting Virgil a look.

“You could have simply asked me instead of commandeering my phone.” Roman’s tone was ice.

“I tried to ask you, remember? Upstairs? And you ignored me!” Virgil bit back, turning the phone so that the screen faced Roman. “And WHAT is this? Why are you reading this garbage?!”

“Just for….constructive criticism….”

“These aren’t constructive!” Virgil cried, flipping the screen back around. “’Roman is such a bully.’ ‘That prince character annoys me; he needs to tone it down.’ ‘I hate-‘”

“Enough!” Roman erupts, roughly snatching the phone from Virgil’s hand and quickly turning from the other two Sides. Before he can stalk out, though, Logan is in front of him and blocking the doorway.

“What is happening in here? Why the sudden commotion?”

“Roman’s reading hate comments about himself.” Virgil deadpanned, and Roman threw him a bitter glare.

“Roman? Is this true? Why would you engage in such illogical behavior?”

“It’s not illogical, Admiral Apathy.” Roman bit off. “It’s gathering input from our fans on how I can improve.”

“Come on, Princey,” Virgil rose and came up beside Roman. “You don’t believe any of that crap, do you?” Virgil sighed and swiped at Roman’s phone, barely missing the device as Roman jerked his hand away.

“I…..maybe.”

“Stop it.” Virgil looked him square in the eye. “I know what you’re doing. You’re feeling bad about yourself, so you’re throwing a pity party and looking up hate on the internet as the main event.”

“I-“

“I’ve done it, too, and I can tell you it doesn’t make anything better. You still feel crummy afterward, but now you have a whole new set of insults to throw at yourself.” Virgil suddenly looked exhausted. “Look, Princey-Roman. It doesn’t so you any good to sit there and feel bad about yourself. Trust me. You have to get up and prove to yourself that you’re better than that.”

“But…” Three pairs of eyes widened as Roman’s lips trembled, his voice quiet and quivering. “But what if…I’m not?” The Prince swallowed a sob and sunk out of the kitchen before any of the other three could react.

“Ah, geez.” Virgil mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he gazed at the spot Roman had only just occupied and wondered how they were going to fix this one.

“Hey…Princey?” Virgil knocked lightly on Roman’s door, cursing himself for giving into Patton’s idea of playing rock-paper-scissors to see who would go after Roman first. After a few beats of silence, he continued. “I….uh….I’m sorry I stole your phone and looked at it. That was….a crummy thing to do, and I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy. Forgive me?”

Silence.

“Logan, you’ll have to talk some sense into him.” Virgil rubbed his eyes, groaning as he fell back onto their couch. “He won’t listen to me.”

“I shall do my utmost.” Logan assured him, straightening his glasses and shoulders as he sank out of the Common Room.

Logan approached Roman’s room, pulling out a small lock picking set from his back pocket. He’ll probably wish he’d never conjured this for me after this…

“Hey, what the-”

“Roman,” Logan threw the Creative trait’s door open. “I apologize for not knocking first, but, considering your current state, I doubt that you would have answered my calls anyway.”

“You’re not wrong there, Four-Eyes.” Roman mumbled, still scrolling through his phone. He’d wiped all traces of his sorrow from his face.

“Roman, this sort of behavior is highly illogical and not useful. You’re really only stroking your own ego this way, but in a sick, childish form of-“

“You wouldn’t understand, Logan!” Roman suddenly screamed, jumping up from the bed and throwing his phone down. “You don’t get emotions, right? You’re Mister Logical, Mister Processing, Mister Emotion-LESS.” Roman was shaking now, his hands in fists at his sides. “You don’t get what it’s like to feel disappointed, like an absolute loser and a failure because you’re Mister Perfection. Well guess what?! The rest of us don’t get that luxury, so just LEAVE. ME. ALONE.”

Logan gasped when he suddenly found himself back in the Common Room. He’d landed firmly on his tailbone when Roman, in the force of his fury, had literally thrown him out of his room. “Well, I have never-” Logan’s face was beet red, and Virgil could only lay stalk still on the couch as he rose from the floor. “-dealt with such a childish, petulant, selfish, self-absorbed-“

“You two okay in here?” Patton asked, confused at seeing Logan back so soon.

“Yes, Patton. Virgil is quite safe from my wrath, but that Prince, that royal bas-”

“Logan, language!!” Patton reminded him loudly.

Logan took a deep, steadying breath through his nose. “No emotions indeed, Prince. You see this?!” Logan yelled to no one in particular. “This is anger, Roman! This is rage, frustration, and…..and hurt!” He cried at the ceiling, his voice cracking before the final two words. Looking both Virgil and Patton in the eye, Logan nodded curtly and sunk out of the room, into his own realm to calm himself down.

“Well, looks like it’s my turn to take a swing at it.” Patton plastered a wide smile across his cheeks as he materialized out of the Common Room and into the Prince’s domain.

“Hey, kiddo.” Patton whispered as he appeared in Roman’s all too quiet room.

“Not now, Patton.” Roman replied. The Prince was now laid across his bed, resting on his side and facing away from Patton. The Moral Side could hear the steady click of Roman’s finger nail hitting his phone screen as he scrolled.

“Come on, kiddo, you gotta stop doing this to yourself.” Patton scooted closer to Roman on the bed. Quick as lightening, Patton quietly and precisely plucked the cell phone from between Roman’s fingers.

Patton’s curiosity turned to full concern when the Prince merely slouched into his bed in response, not even trying to get the phone back.

“What’s really going on here, Roman? You and I both know that hate comments are only critical and not at all constructive.”

“They’re not hate comments,” Roman grumbled. “They’re feedback from fans.”

Patton sighed.

“Roman…I can’t even be too mad at you, really…because I’ve done the same thing.” Patton smiled sadly to himself, staring forlornly at the blank screen in his hands. Roman rolled onto his back, laying an arm across his eyes as a sort of shield against the truth.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He mumbled, barely opening his lips.

“Yeah you do, kiddo, and like I said, I’ve done it, too. You’ve had a bad week. You’ve already been beating yourself up anyway, or been beaten up, and you’re at the point where it’s not bad enough to really hurt. But you want it to, and you want to indulge in that hurt because it makes you feel more worthy and purposeful, like a victim of a cruel world instead of someone who just needs to learn and grow.”

Patton could see Roman’s jaw clench, but the Prince immediately released it as he removed his arm from his face and sat up on the mattress.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are referring to,” Roman threw back. “You do not know my motives, so do not pretend that you do. I have told you, it’s construct-”

“Oh, but I do, kiddo.” Patton whispered, a tremor creeping into his voice. “Because I-”

“I GET it, Patton!” Roman suddenly exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’ve indulged in negative emotions. Congratulations. We all have at some point or another, but I am not throwing myself a pity party. I am not indulging to feed my ego. I am giving myself what I deserve to hear after being such a miserable failure in my role and my duties!” He sucked in a breath, and his voice quieted. “I am no prince. I am the pauper. Now, if you will kindly leave me be to wallow in my squalor, Patton, I would appreciate it.”

“Yeah, kiddo. I’m sorry.” Patton got up quickly, turning from Roman so the Prince would miss the determined gleam in his eye.

“I need your help.” Patton declared to Virgil and Logan as they stared up at him from the Common Room couch.

“So, I take it your intervention went as well as ours did?”

“Yup…” Patton smiled sadly. “Though I think I got a little more intel. I have a plan, and I need your help.”

When Roman finally left his room hours later, he found the other three sitting at the top of the staircase, looking expectantly at his door. “What is this, a floor party?” He muttered humorlessly, moving to sink out before Patton jumped up.

“Wait! Come with us!” Roman hesitated at the desperation in Patton’s tone, considered his request, and came back up.

“Where? Why?”

“Downstairs!” Patton grabbed Roman’s wrists and dragged him to the stairs, tugging at him arms to get the royal to follow him.

“Patton, I’m not in the mood for a movie marathon or-“

Roman froze when he was low enough to see part of the living room. Most of the room was still obscured, but what he could see was covered in tape and paper with text. “What on earth-“ As he got closer, he recognized the Twitter logo. He approached the paper closest to the stairs, and read:

“Roman is my favorite Side. He’s so lively and fun; I have such a crush on him!”

He stared for a moment before allowing Virgil to nudge him to the next one.

“Roman is SUCH A good singer, wow! Just like a real Disney Prince! #Romanfornextprince”

Logan gestured toward the next sheet.

“I think Roman is my new favorite Side. He’s such a complex character. I can already see so much potential for future arcs and episodes for him, and I’m excited to see what happens next with him!”

He slowly progressed around the room, soaking in each comment that was taped to an object or piece of furniture in the Common Room. Some made him laugh, and some made that beautiful smile break out across his lips.

Then he reached the final three sheets.

“Roman is an incredibly talented and vivacious being.” Logan’s voice echoed from behind him. “He throws himself into everything that he does, and his passion is rivaled by none that I have ever seen. He is a pleasure to work with, and he is an inspiration that drives me to do my best. I am grateful for his presence in our group.”

Tears well up dangerously in Roman’s eyes.

“Roman is just the bee’s knees!” Patton’s cheery voice rang out from beside him. “He’s so good at singing, and he’s so much fun to have around! He’s great at making me happy when I feel kinda sad, and I’m always amazed at the things he creates! He’s the best Disney movie marathon buddy a guy could ask for, and I’m so glad to have him in my life!”

Roman attempted a laugh, but a sob slipped out instead. He bit his lip.

“Roman reminds me that even though life can be a drag, there’s always a reason to get up in the morning with a smile.” Virgil’s quiet, even tone sounded from Roman’s other side and sent a chill up his spine. “He works so hard to do his best for all of us and Thomas, and I appreciate that more than I ever tell him. He puts up with so much from us, and I’m always amazed at what he is able to accomplish. I’m glad he’s our prince.”

Tears snaked down Roman’s cheeks, but he didn’t even try to stop them. He read the three pieces of text over and over, running the words and their meanings through his mind. His head bowed when Patton carefully wrapped an arm around his waist and gently rocked them both side to side, humming a wordless tune. He slid his own arm around Patton’s back, and his eyes slid closed as he continued to cry but absorbed the love practically radiating off of Patton.

Virgil tenderly placed his arm across the Prince’s shoulders, and Roman sobbed harder as the Anxious Side tenderly rubbed his shoulder. Virgil got closer to the royal, and Roman slid an arm around his back and pulled him in close.

Roman suddenly felt someone at his back, and he relaxed just a hair when he felt a pair of arms weave around his stomach. A forehead pressed into his back, and he felt a slight tremble come from the being behind him.

“Th-thank you. All of you.” Roman breathed out. “And L-Logan…I apologize for asserting that you lack emotion…because clearly that is not the case.” A jarring combination of a laugh and sob escaped Roman’s throat as Logan squeezed his midsection.

“It’s q-quite alright, Roman. I apologize for not being more…tactful in my approach.”

“You are forgiven.” Roman sighed and wiped his eyes, and he took in a deep breath. “I feel….much improved. Far better. I…am good, guys. Thank you, again.”

Patton squeezed Roman tight in a side-hug, and Virgil brought his arm from around Roman’s shoulders, stretching the appendage as a grin crept onto his lips.

“Hey, Lo, you need to apologize for something else.”

“What is that, Virgil?” Logan asked, brow quirked.

“For calling Roman a ‘royal bast-‘”

“VIRIGIL, NO CUSSING!” Patton cried, hands over his mouth.

“He called me a WHAT?” Roman spun around. “You offer your apologies, but neglect to mention defiling my good name, you…you-!”

“Well, I only managed to say part of the word, so I figured an apology was not necessary. I only called l you a  ‘royal bas-, not a ‘royal bast-‘“

“Logan!” Patton turned on his dad voice. “That’s enough of all of this! We were having a nice moment!” He whined, turning to Virgil as the other two continued to bicker.

“It’s okay, Dad.” Virgil reassured him, throwing an arm over his slumped shoulders. “This is our normal, and I think if anything, it shows they’re gonna be alright.”

“I guess you’re right, kiddo.” Patton sighed, watching on with a strange fondness in his eyes. “He’s gonna be alright.”

All of my Sanders Sides fanfics

[polysandershell]

I don't know if you take prompts. But if you do, can you make a fic where Princey says something rude to Anxiety that Anx shut himself and Patton goes into Dad Mode and after helping Anx he scold Prince or something. Thanks. And sorry.

Hey, no need to apologize! I really liked this prompt! I don’t think this is exactly what you had in mind for this, and it didn’t quite turn out as I wanted it to, but alas here it is anyway. I didn’t write the scene of Morality calming down Anxiety, but I could probably be convinced to write it.

Warnings: Slight Angst (I mean, Anx gets upset soo), Being nonverbal, if anything needs to be tagged let me know, please.

Bad Days

Everyone in the mindscape was bound to have bad days, it was only natural, after all. And everybody’s bad days looked different. Logan’s left him feeling all the emotions he didn’t want to deal with ever; they left him angry and bitter and lashing out for periods of time before he calmed down and apologized. Patton’s made him unable to smile. All the negative emotions he had been holding back, came out full force. Anxiety’s were by far the ones that happened most often. They were also the ones that gave the largest variety of effects. His ranged anywhere from anger, to panic attacks, to being non-verbal among other things. Roman is where things were a bit different. Roman was already, quite the drama queen on a normal day, but on a bad day? On a bad, he was about 10x worse. Quicker to upset and the smallest things could set him off.

This is one of the reason when more than one of them was having a bad day, it was a recipe for disaster. Emotions ran wild and usually at least one of them would end feeling even worse than when the day began.

Today, it was a bad day for both Anxiety and Roman. Anxiety was having a nonverbal day and was barely able to drag himself to the kitchen to get something to drink through his emotional exhaustion. He had just managed to pour himself a glass of grape gatorade and was leaving to go back to his room when he ran directly into Roman. Spilling the gatorade all over the others nice white suit.

There was silence for a moment as they looked at each other, not quite registering what had happened. Then Prince’s expression turned to one of rage.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?!” Roman shouted ignoring the look of panic that had formed on Anx’s face. Another beat of silence passed before “Are you not even going to apologize? You’ve ruined my suit and you won’t even acknowledge it? You must be more of a villain than I thought.”

Anxiety flinched, mouth moving trying to explain, but no words would come out. When it appeared that Prince was about to begin yelling again Anxiety bolted back to the safety of his room.

Neither party had noticed that the entire event had been witnessed by none other than the dad of the group. At least, not until he cleared his throat and got the still raging side’s attention. “You know it was an accident kiddo. You shouldn’t have yelled at him. Go to your room, I’ll talk to you later.”

The fanciful side opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by Patton, “No arguing. Just go, I’ll come talk to you after I talk with Anxiety.” Reluctantly, Roman listened to what the parent said.

~*~*~

Roman had been in his room for what was verging on 2 hours when there was finally a knock on the door. He didn’t have time to answer it however because it opened directly after with a very angry looking Patton on the other side.

Patton rarely ever got mad. He much preferred to be the happy and always smiling type of dad, but when he saw one of his children being attacked he didn’t even give it a second thought. Prince had calmed down some over the past 2 hours he spent alone and while he knew he was in the wrong and knew he deserved to see this side of Patton’s Dad Mode, he was far too stubborn to admit that quite yet.

“I can’t believe you would say that to him, Prince!” Patton said as he began to scold the younger side. “He way not show it a lot, but he really does trust us to an extent. You calling him the villain, the thing you know he fears being most, may have just ruined that trust he had in you. I know you had a bad day, but he was nonverbal. You yelled at him for not apologizing when he couldn’t even talk. He had no way to defend himself, Roman.”

Roman felt his heart drop. Oh god, that made him feel even worse. “I’m sorry.”

A stern look came across Patton’s face. “Don’t apologize to me. I’m not the one that you hurt. I just got Anxiety to calm down and rest so you can’t see him now, but you better go apologize to him tomorrow. And don’t think you’re getting off the hook for this either. You’re grounded, Roman. For a week.”

The other facet sighed before saying, “Yeah, that sounds fair. I’ll apologize tomorrow. I just- I guess I wasn’t really thinking.”

“I know you weren’t, buddy, but you really hurt Anxiety this time. Now, give your Pops a hug before he leaves?” Morality asked, relaxing out his dad mode slightly.

Roman gave the other a hug before he was left alone, feeling an immense amount of guilt. He would have to make this up to Anxiety somehow. So, he threw himself into making a plan for how to apologize and hopefully make it up to him. It was going to be a long night.

[worlduniversityrp-blog]

Posting my own form as an example for everyone joining! — Prof. Kota

OOC

Name: Dakota/Kota. Pronouns: she/her Contact URL: romanope

Character Wanted: South Italy / Romano Activity Level: 6-8 Timezone: PCT (Las Vegas) Password: accepted

Extra: My only big thing is I am uncomfortable rping the Italy Bros and will likely not be interacting with any N. Italy’s, I’m sorry!

IC

Full Name: Lorenzo Riccio

Age / Year: 20, 2nd year/sophomore. Gender / Pronouns: Male, he/him.

Appearance: Lorenzo is of short stature and small/medium framed body, his overall appearance being more gender-neutral than it is overly feminine or masculine. He has brown-olive skin littered with moles and sunspots, cappuccino brown curls that reach about ear-jaw length, and dark hazel green-brown, almond-shaped eyes that have a judging glare to them.

He stands at only 5’5 and weighs around average, with no defined muscles and slight pudge around his stomach area. His facial structure isn’t too sharp or defined, but not very soft or round either; he has an oval shaped face with a Roman nose, slightly plump lips, and high cheekbones. The most notable thing about his appearance is the unruly, curled strand of hair that sticks out.to the left, his right.

Personality: Lorenzo is, without a doubt, not the most approachable person out there; he tends to be anti-social, though when he wants to be can be rather charismatic and friendly. It’s not his strongest suit, however. He’s a bit abrasive and frequently rude and foul-mouthed with most people, especially those he does not like. Though it’s mostly a defense mechanism, and if you’re close enough to him, he’ll feel comfortable enough around you to be his passionate, loving, and even often silly side of himself. Though to no one does he show the side of him where he’s crying, or feels helpless.

He has a great deal of insecurities that have guarded his personality so intensely, that it causes him to lash out when angered, and push people away very often. He has an awful inferiority complex, and little to no sense of self-worth. He’s very pessimistic, and his depression makes it harder for him to show positive, happy emotions, as to how easy it makes it for him to spit out insults and being stubborn, rude, and overall grumpy and unimpressed with everything.

The person who makes him happiest is Antonio; he actually manages to give him a spot of optimism, make him smile and laugh and just be himself.

Skills: Painting & drawing, cooking, napping??? Complaining? Nothing else

Painting/drawing: A given, Lorenzo is very skilled with artistic media, namely painting and drawing being his best too. He is a specifically traditional artist, but has been considering learning digital media.

Cooking: Growing up in an Italian family, it’s hard to not know how to cook. He learned when he was younger since he’d always help his mother cook. It’s relaxing to him.

Napping: Worldwide champion napper. Any chance he can nap, he takes.

Complaining: Honestly.

Flaws: Pessimism, low self-worth, abrasiveness.

Pessimism: Naturally, given he has depression, Lorenzo tends to see things in the worst way, to expect the worst, and accept it. He doesn’t have a lot of hope for himself, and usually relies on others to give him some sort of sense of optimism. This also goes for his bad mood, he has trouble showing positive emotions as opposed to how easy it is for him to be negative.

Low self-worth: He thinks incredibly lowly of himself due to a multitude of things in his past, and even in his present. And yet he still manages to be a narcissist. He is the definition of “hates himself, but believes he’s better than everybody”.

Abrasiveness: A lot of bottled up emotions tend to manifest themselves in him in forms of aggression, making it easy for him to lash out, or they way he insults people and acts so rude to someone he doesn’t like so nonchalantly. Also, he’s ultimately petty, so.

Backstory: ( TW: Abuse / Depression / Self harm + Suicidal thoughts )

Lorenzo was born to his family as a first gen Italian-American, his parents having moved from Italy for better opportunities. He was always closer to his mother growing up, as his father wasn’t exactly an incredible one to begin with. As he got older, he got more and more abusive towards him, mostly verbal but even sometimes physical with him the older he was; and the older he got, the more his parents fought. He used to blame it on himself, since his dad seemed to make it look that way.

When he was 13, his mother and father divorced, and his father walked out on them. School was already awful for him as he wasn’t rather popular, only had a few ‘friends’ (they weren’t that close, since he usually shut everyone out), and had been bullied since he was young. It got worse with this, his grades fell back, and it was practically a miracle that he wasn’t held back.

Any friends he had in middle school, he lost once he was in high school. High school felt infinitely worse, he was much more stressed, ridiculed far more, and he didn’t know how to cope with it. His mother was often busy and never home, trying to provide for them both without their father there anymore. So he turned to harming himself; cutting, sometimes, just to let something out. When he was 16, he started to get ahold of cigarettes and starting smoking, to de-stress himself. He didn’t care if it harmed him, he had little to no sense of self-worth, and figured he wouldn’t live long at that point anyways.

The more he bottled up, the more he lashed out, the more he shut himself off thereafter; peers viewed more and more horribly, hated him more, made fun of him more. He’d contemplated much worse than self-harm at times. He got a job at a local fast food place to help his mother, and also to have more of an excuse to avoid people he knew, ever. Smoking became a bad habit. It didn’t help him one bit that, despite having a loving and supportive mother, a lot of himself went hidden thanks to family values and religion.

Graduating high school felt like a weight had been yanked right off his shoulders. Going off to college in NYC, away from the upstate town he was born in, was a fucking blessing. Every from high school was gone and he felt a little less outcast at World U. But he still bottles stuff up, and could really use a therapist, honestly.

Headcanons: 

Despite being 20, Lorenzo still hasn’t gotten his driver’s license, and if he can’t catch a ride from someone else, he takes public transport or walks most places. He’s not sure when he plans on getting it; he lives in NYC, after all.

While Lorenzo majors in Art, he’s often thought about opening his own restaurant in his future, and even works in the campus’s cafe (which isn’t that delightful, not that he thought it would be.)

While he has the ability to paint with a more modern style, he’s deeply inspired by barocco era paintings, and loves to paint to in such a style.

He still smokes sometimes, but he’s trying hard to quit. He’s been clean of any type of self-harming for a couple years now, but the urges still resurface.

Major(s): Visual / Studio Arts Major. Minors: Culinary Arts. Courses: Life Drawing II, Advanced Painting, Drawing II.

Ships:

OTP(s): Spamano ( I have others I like, but this is the one I’m gonna focus on ).

NOTP(s): Most of any other ships that spamano, but g/ermano + itace/st make me the most uncomfy.

Writing sample:

Every bone in his body ached, his limbs felt heavy, and his eyes were barely open; probably not the best conditions for him to be working on a stupid fucking charcoal piece on, but he had no choice. His movements were rushed, trying to piece together the painting as it came along. A man with his back to the viewer, messy, disheveled hair envisioned with dark and heavy strokes of charcoal on the canvas, an arm raised to the level of his head, and a hand cupping the back of his neck.

It wasn’t a mystery who it was meant to be a caricature of, but he’d do everything he could to deny it was anything other than just a random mystery man he’d come up with. No, he just wanted to finish it ― he needed to finish it, since it was due tomorrow, and he’d put off most chances to work on it over the past few days. A tired groan slipped from his lips, and he fumbled for his phone to turn on the screen. 1:16 am. Another groan; looks like this would be one of those days where he needed a smoke. Wishing he had weed right now, he smacked a cigarette out of the box and grabbed his lighter, too tired and frankly too lazy for something more than one of these right now, and dragged his ass outside. A brief break wouldn’t hurt.

Once he was outside, he let the cigarette hang from his lips and cupped his hand around it, shielding the flame in the lighter as he brought it to the tip. It felt comforting to take a long drag, breathing in the awful but somehow relaxing smoke, before letting it tumble from his lips and fill the air in front of him. He swatted his hand, clearing it away, but the stench would still linger. He frowned, looking around at the dark campus in the middle of the night, huffing.

After some time passed and he felt calmer, he made his way back inside and to his dorm, setting back on working on his piece, putting a little too much effort into the curve of his back, his backside, and the soft shading that emphasized his muscles. God, he was really gay. Eventually he figured – fuck it, that was good enough, he needed sleep, and dragged himself to his bed to do just that.