#sander sides writing

[part-time-zombie]

Headcanon that remus likes to take some idioms very literally, as in he'll physically manifest symptoms of them as a joke.

He's daydreaming and all of a sudden his head is surrounded by clouds. Patton freaks out thinking his head is on fire, until remus tunes back in and they disappear. (Head in the clouds)

Someone gives him a compliment or shows him genuine kindness and he immediately throws up a bunch of butterflies. Logan shrugs it off as him just eating things he's not supposed to again, and remus doesn't try to correct him. (Butterflies in your stomach)

This idea just came to me and ngl I kinda love it

(if you have any other metaphors/idioms please add them to this, I'd love to see how much other stuff he could do)

[loganslowdown4]

Roman: Wha- and just WHAT do you think you’re wearing?

Virgil: Uh, a hoodie and jeans… like always-

Roman: We’re going to a wedding!

Virgil: Yeah, and..?

Roman: It’s our wedding!!

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Hc that even though Virgil is red/green colour blind (specifically like a dog) and even though he can’t see purple, it’s his favourite colour.

He had just recently broken things off with Janus. It was messy, and loud, and he would rather die than have anything to do with Janus ever again in his life.

He went to the only person he could think to help him with it. The romance extraordinaire, creative prince himself, Roman. He went to him for a distraction.

“Uh, what’s your favourite colour?” Roman asked after Virgil’s sobs had died down for a bit.

Virgil looked up from the tear soaked satin pillow he’d been wailing into, Roman just a blurry grey mess in front of him.

“I don’t— fuck. I don’t *know*!” He almost screamed, shoving his face back in the pillow.

Roman’s hand rubbed his shoulder, and he muttered to him softly in his efforts to comfort him. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Do you want to pick one now? Hm… which colours *can* you see again?”

“Uh… blue, grey, and—“ Virgil’s voice came out muffled until he choked on tears again. “Fucking yellow.”

“Ah.”

“What’s the farthest away from *yellow* that I can get?”

Roman didn’t even hesitate before he answered. “Purple. It’s on the other end of the colour wheel.”

“*That*. Purple’s my favourite. Anything that isn’t close to *him*.”

Roman nodded, barely stifling a laugh. “Purple’s a good colour. The colour of royalty!”

Virgil’s tears stopped for a moment. “Are you purple?”

“No— No, I wear red and white.”

Virgil pulled his head back up, a broken grin on his teary and mascara stained face. “You’re a prince and you don’t wear purple?!”

[lefaystrent]

Virgil wanders into the living room looking for something to do. Or someone to terrorize. Eh, he's not really picky at the moment.

He finds Logan sitting on the couch with a paperback book and pencil in hand. So entranced is he that he doesn't stir at Virgil's entrance. He marks something on a page. His foot idly rotates where he's got it crossed at the knee.

"Whatchya up to?" Virgil asks.

Logan's eyes remain focused. "Sodoku."

"Bless you."

Virgil has the satisfaction of seeing Logan's eye twitch. "Virgil, I know that you know what Sodoku is."

"Yeah, but can you prove it?"

"Yes, but as you are being willfully obstinate, I feel no inclination to."

Virgil snorts good-naturedly. He ambles closer and kind of sways back and forth. He's in a good mood and doesn't feel inclined to take Logan's dismissiveness to heart. Besides, if he's being a true bother, Logan would plainly tell him.

"Willfully obstinate is a step up from anxious mess, so hey, I'll take it."

Logan frowns and glances up now, but when he sees Virgil's smirk, he levels an unamused stare that shows he clearly knows what Virgil is up to. He lowers the puzzle book. "Virgil, you seem to have an abundance of free time at the moment."

"I wouldn't say abundant, but yeah, I'm free."

"Fantastic. You should join me in my downtime. Perhaps you will glean the intricacies of Sodoku via observation."

Virgil rolls his eyes. "Yeah, L. I'll help you with your puzzle."

Virgil doesn't sit down so much as falls onto the cushion, letting his body drop against Logan's side. Logan bounces slightly and adjusts, but doesn't move away or discourage the closeness. He holds the book up so Virgil can see from where he leans his head against Logan's shoulder. There are some squares filled in with numbers, but overall there are only two rows completely filled in. Most of the other blank squares have tiny numbers penciled into the corners. Probably Logan's way of systematically ruling out possibilities.

After a moment of scanning, Virgil ticks his tongue. "I see where your problem is."

"What? What do you see?" Logan asks, way too invested at the thought he may have overlooked something or made a mistake.

Hiding a grin, Virgil points at a random square. "This one is supposed to be eleven."

There's a pause in which Virgil definitely does not cackle. His amusement is all inward, but he watches Logan like a hawk for the beautiful moment of realization.

Logan doesn't disappoint. He goes on an entire face journey that starts with, "Oh, maybe Virgil's right," and ends with, "how dare you." The last bit is directed straight at Virgil and Virgil merely gazes back innocently. It's not a look that comes across naturally on him and he knows it, but that's not the point.

Virgil shrugs. "Then again, what do I know about Sodoku?"

Logan bookmarks the page with his pencil, then reaches up to tap Virgil on the nose. "Ob-stin-ate." He punctuates each syllable with a gentle tap.

Virgil giggles afterwards, airy and care-free, but he'll deny it later.

[prodigal-explorer]

how to write children's personalities

(this is part of my series, how to write children in fanfiction! feel free to check it out if you want more info like this!)

this is the main aspect of writing children that i see people mess up so often, especially in the fandoms i'm in (sanders sides and undertale). children are not adorable little noodles with no brains and no concept besides being cute and silly and crying. children are beings that are just as complex as adults, and they deserve personalities to match. this will make them way more interesting to read about! let's get started!

since there are so many aspects to personality to talk about and i don't want to sit here typing for ten years, we're going to do this guide a little differently. i'm going to divide these issues into archetypes, write a short description, and then make a list of do's and don't's for each one!

archetype one: the cute little baby

okay. babies are cute. we all know this, and i'm not saying it's a bad thing to make your babies cute. a lot of people love reading about moments with adorable little babies. but here are some ways to step this kind of thing up, and some things to avoid if you want to improve upon writing this archetype.

do's:

give the child character another archetype besides this one. though "cute" is the foundation for a lot of child characters, it's not a personality. and if a character is vital to your story, then it needs a personality. that's just a rule. you will read more about other archetypes further along in this post!

make the moments symbolic. though it doesn't seem like it from an outsider's perspective, basically everything a baby does is for a reason, and every action a baby makes can say something about their personality. if you want this baby's personality to be energetic and curious, have them crawl around and explore things, and laugh a lot, and babble. if you want this baby to be more sullen and shy, have them cry quietly instead of wailing, or have them squirm when being held by new people.

make the actions of the baby's guardians affect the mannerisms of the baby. babies act differently depending on how the people taking care of them act and react. for instance, if the baby's guardians are very busy people, then maybe have the baby cry very loudly whenever they want something, since they know that it's the only way to get the attention of their guardians. stuff like that can add depth to a character and to a general story.

don't's:

decide that the baby is cute and call it a day. sweet little babies are cool and all, but they get very boring to read about after a while. this can barely even be considered an archetype because of how bland it is when it's by itself.

keep this archetype around for too long. as babies turn into toddlers and then children, they don't act even remotely the same way. it's strange and off-putting to read about a seven year old acting like a two-year old, unless it's a very clear character choice that is a result of explicit actions and events.

make the baby know that it's cute. realistically, children don't understand the concept of cuteness until they're around toddler age. if then, you want to make the kid be like "i get what i want when i'm cute, so i'll act cute!", then sure, that's hilarious. but when they're two months old, they're not batting their eyelashes because that's their personality. they're batting their eyelashes because they got something in their eye. the main thing that makes a baby cute is that they don't know they're cute. they're just figuring out how to do ordinary things.

make everything a cute moment. while babies are awesome, raising them isn't always sunshine and rainbows. make the baby do something wildly chaotic, because babies do wildly chaotic things all the time. not only does this make things more realistic, but it makes things very interesting!

archetype two: the shy kid

as a former shy kid, i know good and well that these types of children exist, and they are very real and valid. however, there are certain ways i've seen them written that are just terrible because once again, this archetype cannot be considered a full personality on its own. let's get into the do's and don't's.

do's:

make their shyness a deliberate choice. kids aren't usually naturally shy. kids are usually more curious than cautious. is there a reason why the kid is shy? there doesn't have to be a reason why the kid is shy, but there could be a reason why the child is NOT outgoing/curious. try and give something like this some deliberate cause, instead of just making them shy so they can seem more precious and infantilized.

make their shyness manifest in diverse ways. not all shy kids cling to their guardian's leg and sit alone during recess. there are different ways to be shy. you can be aggressively shy, or fearfully shy, or shy due to general unwillingness to change.

make their shyness have realistic consequences. someone who's shy is probably not going to have many friends, if any. not all shy kids magically meet an extrovert who adopts them. someone who's shy probably has underdeveloped social skills, which can lead to them being less emotionally intelligent down the line. this makes the shy kid archetype a lot more three-dimensional than just a wet noodle of fear.

don't's:

infantilize shyness or treat it like it makes the kid some sweet, precious angel. not only is this very uncomfortable for shy people to read, but it's generally unrealistic. shyness doesn't affect how good or bad somebody is - it's a neutral trait.

use shyness as a tool to make characters seem younger. shyness does not indicate age. fear manifests in many different ways, and shyness is not the only way.

rely on cliches. not all shy people have the same journey, and the idea that a shy person becoming more outgoing is the "goal" is not only a bit offensive, but it's very cliche. shyness is not always an obstacle to be overcome.

archetype three: the happy-go-lucky kid

oftentimes, the reason why children characters are written into stories in the first place is to give a little bit of lightheartedness and innocence. to add a unique voice among all the cranky, stingy, burdened adults. but you have to be careful when writing this archetype. i personally really dislike this archetype as a whole, but i'm going to put personal feelings towards it aside because honestly, there's no valid reason to dislike it besides opinion.

do's:

give the kid a trademark. maybe this kid makes a lot of little jokes, or maybe they always see the best in a situation. give the kid one thing that makes them happy-go-lucky instead of just giving them everything because nobody is endlessly happy all the time in every way.

go deeper. while happiness is very often genuine, sometimes, it's a mask that hides something else. this can be an interesting way to sort of spice up your happy-go-lucky kid character. maybe the kid is hiding a big secret behind all those jokes.

don't's:

make the character always happy. while children tend to have simpler thoughts, they don't have simpler minds. this child needs to have thoughts, real, genuine thoughts that aren't just happy things.

see happy-go-lucky as a trait that is exclusive to children. comparing happiness to childhood and viewing them as the only places where the other can exist is just wrong, and it's kind of depressing. maybe give happy-go-lucky kid a happy-go-lucky adult to exchange jokes with!

---

those are the archetypes that i see a lot. but now, i'm going to suggest a few child character archetypes that i LOVE that i don't see enough in fics! feel free to use any of these that you like. alter them, combine them! these are, in my opinion, some of the most fun child character personalities!

the spoiled brat: "i want this, and that, and that, and- why aren't you giving it to me?? if you don't give me what i want, i'll tell on you!". spoiled brats are so fun to read and write about, especially when they have absolutely no reason to be spoiled given the current situation (think riches to rags). they've got everything, humor, angst, and best of all, lots of pockets for personality. think about why the child is spoiled. were they enabled by their guardians? did they grow up rich, with access to everything they wanted? think about whether you want the child to stay spoiled. does something change? do they learn how to improve their materialistic and selfish tendencies? there are so many opportunities to play with the personality of this child!

the know-it-all kid: while i do see a lot of know-it-all kids in media, oftentimes, they don't actually have personality besides bossiness and intelligence. i love know-it-all kids who have depth to them. kids who are constantly spouting information because of their sheer love to learn. kids who have one specific thing that they know everything about, so they never stop talking about it. kids who tell people what to do and act like they know best because they don't have a lot of control over anything at home, so they grasp at whatever control they can find elsewhere. i think this archetype could open up a lot of ideas for personality further down the line. it also has a lot of variety with humor and angst, and general depth.

the serious child: this is an archetype that i cannot get enough of. i love a child that doesn't think they're an adult, per se, and still enjoys kid things, but just has such a calm and regal air about them that isn't learned. it's just natural. think of the kid that doesn't really get excited about things conventionally, but you can tell they're happy by their faint smile. the kid that seems to live in slow motion, and doesn't mind this fact at all. the kid that sits alone at recess just because other kids scare the birds away, and they want to see how a bird acts when it doesn't think its being watched. i love kids who have poignant thoughts, because their thoughts are so creative and different from adult thoughts.

the adult-ified child: now this is another archetype i can't get enough of, but it's for a different reason. this child, on the other hand, does think that they're an adult for one reason or another. maybe their guardians forced them to grow up too quickly. maybe they just wanted to grow up quickly by themselves. but this child has thoughts that are too big for their little bodies. they explore things that aren't meant to be explored when their brains are still so small. they do everything too quickly, they stumble through life as if a clock is ticking somewhere. to me, they're just haunting to read about. it feels wrong and dangerous to just watch them do things that hurt them because they don't know any better, but they're on a page. nobody can stop them. it's just so tragic, i'm obsessed.

the prodigal child: this archetype isn't really as deep or detailed as the others, but i do appreciate it. this archetype is for a child who knew who they wanted to be from an early age. a child who wanders into a ballet class and finds out they're better than the ten year olds by the time they're five. this archetype often pairs really well with the know-it-all kid or the adult-ified child because usually, children don't experience what it's like to be the best at something until they're a lot older. this is just a really cool archetype when you aren't quite sure what to do with that main character's little sister.

the chaotic child: this archetype is so much fun to read and write, to be honest. this is a child that just does as they please, whether it's out of curiosity or for pure enjoyment. think of the crazy stories that your guardians have about you or your siblings being absolutely insane. scribbling in a book and then demanding that the library publish their version. trying to ride the dog like a horse. cutting up clothes in an attempt to be a fashion designer. this one is just plain fun!

---

now, there are so many more archetypes out there, but those are just my spotlights and recommendations! i hope after reading this, you feel more equipt to write child characters that have real, engaging, interesting personalities!

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

~

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

[libiemoon]

Virgil gets a job as a night watch at a local cemetery that pays $80/hour. The catch? It’s haunted, but Virgil is determined to make that $80/hour even if it means he gets 5 new ghostly friends.

[logan-the-artist]

does it ever get lonely up there on the wall?

to be looked at but never to hold

mister porcelain doll

[kieraelieson]

Virgil wasn’t usually the first one awake, but this morning his body had just decided it was done with sleep an hour or so before it usually would have to coaxed awake. The sun was just up enough to provide a gentle light, diffused through their window by the autumn leaves of the tree outside.

Virgil’s eyes were caught by his husband, laying there still asleep. Logan’s glasses were off, and his face relaxed, all his usual angles softened into roundness. His hair was a little messy, tousled by sleep and by the soft touches Virgil had given it the night before. He looked younger, vulnerable, soft.

Virgil reached out, tenderly tucking back a strand of hair that was tickling his lover just under the eye. Logan didn’t stir, just continued his smooth breaths. His head was tilted towards Virgil, his cheek slightly squashed by the pillow. It was utterly endearing, how he would lean towards Virgil even in his sleep.

Logan shifted, one arm coming up to provide shade from the growing sunlight, a soft half snore escaping him. Virgil couldn’t help a little fond smile. His Logan. His husband. Only he got to see him soft and true like this, without any of his protections and guards up. He was so gorgeous. Virgil loved him so, so very much.

Virgil leaned in to give him a soft kiss on his temple. Logan made a sleepy sound, a smile just barely tugging at his lips before he drifted back into sleep. Virgil slipped quietly out of the bed. He would go make some coffee to surprise Logan with when he woke.

[starlocked01]

When will Fanders stop acting like Thomas is a fanfic writer of his own series?

He's the writer. How can he possibly write the characters "out of character"? He's got a better perspective and understanding of all of them that no one else can possibly have. Just because he expressed doubt in his ability to write them after Joan moved on from the show doesn't mean he actually never had a grasp on them.

🙄

[exhibit-ayyy-look-at-this-nerd]

a day late but!! this is for @intrulogicalweek day 3! the prompt was coffee. i combined it with the alt prompt lesbians cuz i skipped day 2!

[part-time-zombie]

Ok so hear me out...

Janus shape-shifts and can accurately look like any of the other sides (technically so can the others, but janus does it the most)

Remus can conjure pretty much anything, even replicas of living people (again, roman can do this too, but remus does it more)

Do you think remus ever asked janus to look like roman for a little while so he can pretend he's with his brother?

Has janus ever asked remus to conjure a fake virgil so it feels like their former friend is still with them?

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (7)

warnings: misunderstandings, feeling trapped, unhealthy thoughts about an assumed situation, death and injury mention, discussion of debts, unreliable narrator, virgil horribly misinterpreting yet another normal conversation, literally embarrassing levels of thick-headedness

-

Letting his guard down around the humans was far, far easier than it should have been.

He still eased his defenses down slowly, bit by bit, of course, he wasn’t a complete fool. An understanding between him and Patton didn’t necessarily mean that the others felt the same.

They were humans, not shifters, after all, and while he could see the shape of a pack in their closeness, that didn’t mean he could assume the same principles would apply. They all took on equal responsibilities in maintaining and protecting their home, and none of the three had shown any particular indication that they were a designated envoy, meant to speak for the entire pack.

Frankly, with it only being the three of them, a lack of envoy wouldn’t have been too surprising even if they had been shifters. Some smaller packs forewent assigned roles, rotating them as needed, or were close-knit enough that they essentially acted as one whole, any individual able to speak for the pack.

The humans loved to bicker, though, and it would have been like a slap in the face to trust in Patton’s promise and then have them argue about it right in front of him. Instead, Virgil tested the firmness of the new ground he’d been offered with slow, tentative steps, like a deer crossing over a frozen lake. Better to take his time and test the ice than plunge right through.

Irritatingly, the humans made it far too easy for him to forget how precarious his standing was.

Even the simplest of interactions seemed to please them. When he’d responded to Patton’s friendly greeting for the first time, the morning after their midnight conversation, the human’s expression had lit up like a lightning bug at dusk. When he’d finally answered one of Logan’s questions during a meal, the scholar had blinked a few times in quiet surprise before smiling in a way that made his entire face look softer. When he’d pursed his lips and snapped out a sharp retort to something annoying Roman had said, the hunter hadn’t hesitated to needle him right back with friendly delight, the same as he did with the other two.

They were keeping him trapped here, because they were human and they knew better than to let a monster roam free in the woods around their home, but they didn’t want a starved prisoner or a ticket to easy riches. They wanted to offer him comfort and belonging in the time that he had left.

He’d saved them, and they were repaying it in the only way they could afford to.

It was pathetic, how relieved he felt. How genuinely grateful he was for the simple fact that he wasn’t being forced to relive the unending torment of his first imprisonment. How such basic offerings of food and warmth and companionship made it possible to ignore or even briefly forget about the executioner’s axe hoisted over his head.

He’d been on his own for a long time. Returning to that solitude would be its own kind of death, a slow and painful relearning of what it meant to be alone. He knew this, but tried not to dwell on it. He’d survived it once before, and he would again. Better to endure the loneliness than lose the safety of isolation.

So, he forced himself to keep focusing on methods of escape, on the ways this slowly-growing camaraderie would offer lapses in security, on the new freedoms he could take advantage of, and didn’t think about what he would do afterwards.

With this goal in mind, he immediately decided to test his luck by poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

He’d regained some mobility after another week of healing, though he kept his walking pace to a slow shuffle out of caution, and the humans still tended to hover like agitated honeybees whenever he was on his feet for too long. The cabin was small enough that he had mapped out most of it within a day or two, and now he approached the only room he hadn’t yet entered or peered into.

When he pushed the door of Logan’s workspace open, the human’s head snapped up immediately, wearing the beginnings of a frown. Once he saw that it was Virgil who stood in the doorway, though, the displeased turn of his lips faded away, replaced by eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Hello,” he said, voice polite despite the interruption. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Of the three of them, Logan had been the most respectful in his formality, and so Virgil impulsively tested the bounds of that patience by not answering right away, instead letting his gaze drift over the room and its contents.

There were far more plants scattered about than he’d expected, though perhaps he should have expected as much from the dedication Logan tended his garden with. Pots of different shapes and sizes were settled on every inch of the window ledges, and planters hung from shelves and hooks on the ceiling alike. There was an entire corner of the room dedicated to racks of drying herbs and flowers, both wild and homegrown, which lent the room a pleasant dusty floral smell that almost covered up the sting of ink and chemicals.

There was a table against one wall, the shelves around it packed full with bottles of miscellaneous ingredients, all of them labeled in neat handwriting. The table itself was covered in neatly-organized supplies, with protective sigils carefully carved into the outer edge of the wood, keeping any experimentation contained. It stank less than he’d thought it would, for human magecraft, but then he hadn’t yet seen Logan doing any of the typical dissection and harvesting of supernatural creatures, either.

After the full moon, it would have the bitter tang of magic made through unwilling sacrifice, the distant preserved rot of bottled blood. Virgil would recognize the stench of post-harvest ingredients anywhere. Not that he’d be there to smell it, at that point. He forcibly pulled his attention away.

The last section of the room was less orderly than the rest, primarily due to the heaps of books that were stacked and shoved wherever there was space. Logan’s desk was the only semi-clear spot, and even that had a few precarious book towers sitting atop or alongside it. It was also covered in stacks of parchment, with lines and lines of writing or intricate diagrams sketched on the paper.

Logan sat behind it, still awaiting a response, those keen eyes watching him right back.

There was no sign of the lodestone for the ward around the cabin at first glance. He had known better than to think it would be that easy, though.

He hadn’t known that he would actually get this far, assuming that they wouldn’t want their magic prisoner sticking his nose in the most likely place to find a way out of their wards. Even Roman and Patton didn’t tend to disturb Logan too often when he was working in this space, so he’d assumed he’d only get a few moments to glance around at best.

“You haven’t been to the leyline crossing,” he said, because the silence had begun to grow awkward and he’d panicked and they really hadn’t, even though it was well past the usual time of the month they went.

Logan’s stare sharpened, which was probably a bad sign, but he only stood up to clear the books off of a second chair, and gestured for him to sit.

This had been a bad idea. Virgil slunk forward with extreme reluctance and sat.

“We haven’t,” Logan answered affirmatively as he returned to his seat, adjusting his spectacles. “It didn’t seem wise to venture into the woods, seeing as that is where the bear headed, last we saw it.”

That was… a really good reason, actually. Virgil shuddered at even the idea of them running into that creature again in the dead of night, without him to help.

“I take it that you’ve been familiar with us for a while, then, since you know of our routine offerings?” Logan continued, sounding more curious than angry.

Virgil froze up, regardless. He should have known better than to hope he could make it through a conversation without giving anything away. He hadn’t even managed to make it through the first sentence.

“I am not upset,” Logan offered, glancing down at the open book before him in a gesture that seemed designed to give Virgil a moment to breathe. “On the contrary, I am… rather relieved, to have my suspicions confirmed.”

“Relieved?” Virgil echoed dubiously, his voice a low croak. It tended to go raspy and hoarse if he wasn’t focusing on speaking, probably the result of not using his human vocal cords to speak to anyone in literal years.

“Indeed,” Logan answered. “I will admit, my initial impression of you was made hastily. We had never seen you before, and yet you didn’t hesitate to defend us, and you earned a significant injury in the process. It was worrying to unexpectedly incur such a debt.”

Virgil managed to shove aside his embarrassment in favor of confusion. It was strange to mention a debt, especially one owed to a shifter. Humans didn’t consider shifters worth trading with in any fashion, in his experience, and even other supernatural beings knew that wolves weren’t fond of holding debts or grudges. Really, the way Logan spoke about it sounded more like…

“You see, I was aware that it is rather rare for a shifter to reveal themself to humans for any length of time, as I’m sure you know, and I was also aware that the fair folk are often deft hands at taking on wild shapes of their own, particularly when interacting with humans, so…” Logan trailed off, looking a bit flustered at the admission.

“You thought I was fae,” Virgil completed the thought, feeling a bit taken aback at the idea. He certainly would have done a fair bit more against that bear if he’d had the sort of natural power that faeries so often courted.

Of course, things also would have turned out a lot worse for the humans if he’d been a fae, more likely than not. Humans who had fallen under the attention of one of the fair folk frequently met an unfortunate end because of it. Whether the faery in question was maliciously fixated or lovingly obsessed, the human would be lucky to come out irrevocably changed. They’d be lucky to come out alive at all.

“It was a working hypothesis,” Logan said primly, turning a page in his book despite the fact that he almost definitely hadn’t been reading while they spoke. “It was disproven easily enough, and so my precautions weren’t needed in the first place, but seeing as my haste has gotten me and those around me in trouble before, I thought it best to perform them anyhow.”

Precautions? Patton had said that Virgil saved his life, if not all of theirs. To the fae, a life debt like that could only be paid off one way, whether they’d been tricked into it or not.

Oh. He had wondered why Logan had been so uncharacteristically careless before, carrying an agitated and injured shifter back with its teeth only a handspan from his neck. If Virgil had been fae, if he’d chosen differently and torn out Logan’s throat, that would have been the end of any debt between him and the others. A life paid for a life owed.

“Did you run that plan by the others, first?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

Logan waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to pretend at regret. “They traveled out here on my behalf, in the first place. To let them suffer for my mistakes would be a poor repayment.”

From what he knew of them, Virgil thought Patton and Roman would disagree. Loudly.

“…Right,” said Virgil, in his most dubious tone. “On your behalf?”

“I’m cursed,” Logan explained shortly. “I don’t have the constitution required to perform magework without damaging my health. It was intended to make me choose between my health and my passion, but I was willing to give up neither, and found a third option: proximity to powerful natural magic, which would prevent spellwork from being as taxing.”

“Huh.” It was a clever solution. Logan might have been the one to propose their solution to Virgil, too. Offering a shifter a peaceful last few weeks certainly wasn’t an option he would have expected from any normal humans.

Right. He’d almost forgotten that his plan had been to push against the boundaries of his cage, to force them to acknowledge that he was stuck here, to remind himself that no amount of kind company was worth the pain of how this month would inevitably end.

“Well, you don’t owe me anything,” he said, a little too sharply. “And in that case, there’s no point in me staying.”

Logan sat up straight, posture stiffening as he frowned. “You’re still far from healed. I understand why you don’t wish to shift, but surely, leaving is a bad idea for the same reason?”

There it was. In the end, that was the biggest flaw in the arrangement the humans had come up with. If Virgil attacked them or tried to leave, they’d be forced to kill him immediately. He would lose, but so would they; killing him in his human form would make his corpse far, far less valuable.

“You’re only making things more difficult on yourself,” Virgil told him, crossing his arms as tightly as he could without jarring his wound. “I’m not fae. There’s no worth in being hospitable to me.”

It certainly wasn’t going to convince him to stop trying to escape. He might be pathetic, but he wasn’t that pathetic. Honestly, it’d probably be easier for everyone if they just cut their losses and killed him now.

Logan closed his book, folded his hands over it, and met Virgil’s eyes squarely. “We offered you our hospitality because we wanted to. It is freely given, no matter the ease or difficulty involved.”

Virgil couldn’t help the way his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. That implied that they would keep on offering him this kindness even if he did get caught attempting to escape.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t ever been truly punished for that first desperate sprint to the wards, had he? None of the things he’d believed to be threats or punishments had ever panned out the way he’d assumed. Ultimately, they hadn’t so much as directly scolded him about the escape attempt, as though the act was hardly surprising. He hadn’t been drugged, and he still wasn’t guarded.

He couldn’t be certain unless he got caught again, but… the signs were all there. They were confident enough in their cage to indulge him even when he was caught gnawing at the bars. They were underestimating him.

“Don’t blame me if you regret it later,” he said dismissively, but he couldn’t help the disbelieving half smile creeping onto his lips.

Logan returned his smile with an encouraging one of his own, apparently unfazed by Virgil’s renewed determination. “I very much doubt I will.”

He snorted and left the human to his work, not cowed at all by the arrogance. Logan could doubt all he liked. Virgil had beaten much worse odds before.

[orbch]

people talking about analogical and being like “their identities balance each other out really well” and im like NO KIDDING!!!! 😂🤣

anways heres an essay about their storylines and how they mirror each other

(everything im about to say is very mentally unconstructed and thought up in a 3am haze. and also i feel like all of my thoughts abt sasi are stagnant and surface level so please argue with me if you think im wrong..) (also these ideas have likely already been written a bajillion times. but let me do it anyway LOL)

^ with that being said i feel the need to set a definition on what makes sasi sides “dark sides” and “light sides” because like,, to me the only difference between them is the means in which they get the rest of the sides to listen to them

obviously.. none of the sides are actively trying to be evil. or trying to hurt cthomas on purpose. OBVIOUSLYY. because why the hell would they want to do that? they are all literally That Guy, and all of the sides have their own personal goals for thomas that they want him to follow. this is like. the plot. and very known information..

but remus, janus, and formerly virgil are the “dark sides”… like what? because janus manipulated and pretended to be the other sides because thats the only way he could get the others to really listen to and consider his ideas of self preservation and prioritization? and virgil would actively terrorize the others and thomas to get him to be anxious about the stuff virgil believed it was IMPORTANT for him to be anxious about? and remus. listen remus is a whole lot of “being awful for the sake of being awful” but evidently in DWIT he has a strong attraction to the idea of infamy and legacy. so even he is sort of looking out for thomas in. uhm. his own way i guess…

so obviously we know virgils storyline was;

purposely scare the others to get them to see situations from his point of view -> always get insulted and pushed away for being a “pessimist” (its his entire purpose) -> “duck out” and leave thomas and the others to discover the negative affects of zero anxiety -> only after that, finally become recognized as an important aspect of thomas

tw: mention of suicide [not in detail] (and on that note, i think its a little morbid that the light sides only fully realized virgils worth and objective after he attempted the sanders sides equivalent of suicide (which you can NOT convince me isnt what the concept of “ducking out” is. they are all metaphysical personifications of instinctual human traits. what the hell are they gonna do? become real and walk out of the house? bffr))

and whats logans journey?

be considered the [reasonable problem solver] of the group -> be placed in a MULTITUDE of situations where the range of solutions are emotions v. emotions v. emotions and suddenly be considered “cold hearted” and “uncaring” for your objective view points -> get excluded from discussions and ignored when you try and help in the only way you know how -> ???

i (and most of the fandom) fully believe logan (ESPECIALLY after WTIT) is going to start resorting to some pretty drastic measures to be acknowledged by the rest of the sides + thomas. some actions that are likely incited by a “dark side” (nudge nudge the orange guy nudge nudge). and if the harshness of the measures he takes in order to be listened to is all it takes for the rest of the dark sides to be considered “dark sides” in the first place. then uhh well… well!!!

but anyways yeah. yeah. logan and virgil kinda have mirrored character development and that is so fucking interesting. virgils path from dark to light and logans path from light to dark… sighhh.. good stuff

[lefaystrent]

"So yeah, that's the whole place pretty much, besides the back yard," Patton says. He's finished walking the prospective new tenant around the house and now they're back in the common rooms. "What do you think? Seem like a good fit for ya? I know you said you've always lived alone, but I swear we're good roommates."

Virgil glances around again, gnawing on his bottom lip. He had wanted to see everything, from everyone's rooms to (strangely) all possible entry and exit points. He said it's important in case of break-ins or fires, but he seems far too nervous about it all. Maybe he's just the nervous type. Patton doesn't judge.

"Could we check out the backyard actually?" Virgil asks. "I don't really go outside much, but I've never lived in a place that has a yard."

"Oh yeah, sure! Let me grab my trash real quick; I gotta toss it anyway."

Patton snatches up a full bag of trash and escorts Virgil outside to the little back patio. He lets Virgil get a feel for it while he beelines over to the dumpster.

"Oh cool, you guys have your own dumpster?" he asks, trailing after him.

Patton smiles. "Yeah, it's pretty convenient, even if it is a load of garbage." He preens when the joke musters a laugh out of the other. He throws up the top of the bin.

"Hey, Patton," Remus says from inside the dumpster, a banana peel hanging off his head.

"Hi, Remus!" Patton greets back jovially. He tosses in the trash, careful to avoid Remus, and carries on with the conversation after he closes the lid. "I do a bit of gardening out here with Logan's help, if you'd like to... Virgil?"

Virgil has the demeanor of someone who's just choked on his own spit. His body has turned as if to make a break for the back door.

"Virgil?" Patton tries again. "Was it something I said?"

"What was that?" Virgil gestures wildly at the dumpster. "Who was that?!"

"Oh! That's just Remus."

"Why is he in the dumpster?"

Patton frowns in confusion. He glances between the dumpster and Virgil, afraid that he's missed some context. "Umm, he came with the place? He's always just been there. Why, what's wrong?"

Virgil looks like he can respond with a seven hour speech. Instead, he just wheezes.

[radioactive-dazey]

Switched roles au (sort of)

This is art for my fic called Switched! Roman and Virgil switch roles and have to figure out how to do the other's job.

Roman is absolutely not having a good time with this. He feels awkward and sick almost all the time. But Virgil is enjoying himself quite a bit. He's so pretty :) he made his outfit himself and is quite proud of his cloak.

They're starting to enjoy the other's company ;)

This took me about 6 hour to draw (and at least an hour was dedicated to figuring out how to do the stars). Krita is NOT my preferred program to use but hey, it is free.

Pspspspsps Prinxiety enjoyers come get yall's juice.