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#and maybe whatever roman’s listening to on the job which is also pop
neptunevasilias · 3 years
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I think if your average mercury stan saw my playlist for him they’d get angry at me, but if i made it so that it was just music he’d listen to(which is apparently what some people do with their character playlists) i think they’d hunt me for sport bc it’d be entirely lady gaga and similar artists
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Perceptive Blindness
Prompt: hi can i have some hurt/comfort lamp where virgil gets the others together and pines maybe? im feeling down and need to see virgil pining. ps i love all your fics (especially Is It Enough?)
Thanks to the nonny for this prompt! I hope it's what you wanted, I had fin with it. I love writing in Virgil's voice so much because I don't have to try and rein in my natural snark as much. 
Read on Ao3
Pairings: LAMP babeyy
Warnings: our buddy V has a panic attack but it’s not super explicit
Word Count: 4814
It should’ve been easy, right? To see it coming?
 Listen, Virgil’s job is to be observant, to pay attention to shit. Just because he’s notoriously, um, overreactive doesn’t mean he’s bad at paying attention. He sees a whole lot of shit and hey if you saw as much shit as Virgil did you’d be freaking out too, yeah? Okay, great, got that sorted.
 So. Here’s the thing.
When Roman starts sitting a little closer to Patton that he used to on the couch or offering to help him cook and clean when they all know Roman would rather do anything else, Virgil notices. When Roman starts getting up earlier and earlier so he can beat Patton down to the kitchen so they can do it together, Virgil notices. (It’s not like he sleeps, he notices this shit when there’s not supposed to be people up and at ‘em for another half-hour.)
 So yeah, maybe he sinks into Princey’s room one day and smirks when Roman startles terribly coming out of the bathroom.
 “Hey there, Princey.”
 “Don’t—goodness, Stormcloud,” Roman huffs, getting his balance back, “don’t do that. Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
 “You were in the bathroom, you wouldn’t have answered.”
 “How did you know I was—you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Roman shakes his head. “What do you want?”
“What, I can’t just pop my head in and say hi?”
 “I’ve never in my life heard you say ‘pop my head in’ and I never want to hear it again.”
 “That’s where you draw the line?”
 “Everyone has a line, Dark and Stormy.”
 Virgil shrugs, smiling when Roman glares at him for curling up on his bed. Which, alright fair.
 “So.”
 “You’ve yet to explain why you’re in my room,” Roman reminds, sounding less upset than confused.
 “Just thought I’d say hi.”
 “Yes, sure, that’s it.”
 “What, you don’t believe me?” Roman just stares at him. “Okay, okay, I...may have an ulterior motive.”
 “Aha!” Roman points at him victoriously. “I knew it! Now tell me, you fiend.”
 It’s only the slight uptick of Roman’s mouth that lets him know that’s probably supposed to be a term of endearment.
 “Oh, nothing much,” Virgil sighs, “just wondering about your sleeping habits.”
 “Considering you’re the only one in the Mindscape who gets less sleep than me, you’re in no position to—“
 “I’m not here to yell at you, Roman,” Virgil says quickly, relaxing a bit when Roman’s shoulders slump, “I just…you know, I hear you when you get up.”
 “That’s…kind of creepy.”
 “It’s my thing, Roman,” he sighs, “I pay attention to shit and it’s not like I’m asleep.”
 “I know, I know, I didn’t mean it like that.” Roman sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you asking why I’ve been getting up earlier?”
 “Yup.”
 “It’s nothing bad, Virgil.”
 “Never said it was.”
 Roman sighs again, more dramatically this time, flouncing over to his desk, definitely not pouting. “Virgil…”
 “What? If it’s not bad, why don’t you wanna tell me?” Virgil’s eyes widen. “Ooh, is it a secret? Are you keeping secrets, Roman?”
 “Shut up!”
 “No!” Virgil lobs a pillow at him. “Tell me!”
 He ducks quickly when another one flies back at him.
 “Hey!”
 “You threw it first!”
 “Yeah, and!”
 “Gah!” Roman throws himself up out of his chair, trying to hide how red his face is. It’s not working. “What do you want?”
 “I told you, Princey,” Virgil grins, “I want to know why you’re getting up earlier and why you don’t want to tell me.”
 “Because I want to!”
 “And why do you want to?”
 “No,” Roman insists, pointing his finger at Virgil, “I told you, that’s what you wanted.”
 “Giving me the vaguest answer that doesn’t actually answer the question is not an answer.”
 Roman stares at him for a second. “We’ve said the word ‘answer’ too many times. It’s not a word anymore.”
 “Pity.” Virgil shrugs. “Guess you’re gonna have to just tell me.”
 “That’s not—how does—“ Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is not how this words. Works.”
 Virgil snickers.
 “Shut up.”
 “You’re so flustered, Princey. I haven’t seen you like this in ages.”
 “Leave me alone, Virgil.”
 The note of genuine irritation in Roman’s voice is enough to give Virgil pause. He slides off the bed and walks over to Roman, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.
 “You mean that, Roman?”
 Roman looks at him from between his fingers, then looks away. “…no.”
 “Okay.” He bumps Roman with his elbow. “Sit down, Princey.”
 He winces when Roman lets his knees buckle and just collapses onto the floor.
 “I didn’t—okay fine.” Listen, Virgil has no respect for ‘normal’ sitting places at the best of times. He sits next to Roman and watches the prince worry at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Roman, you gotta—you’re gonna fuck them up.”
 “It’s fine,” Roman mutters absentmindedly, “I’ve done this before.”
 “…not exactly reassuring me here, dude.”
 “No, not—not this, I just meant the—my sleeves, they’re…they’re not…it’s fine.”
 Virgil nods, frowning as Roman starts to fidget a little more.
 “…Princey—“
 “It’s Patton,” Roman blurts, his face flushing even brighter, “I—that’s why I’m waking up earlier.”
 Something in Virgil’s chest twists.
 “I figured,” he says instead, bumping Roman’s shoulder again, “you, uh, you had that look about you.”
 “What look?”
 Virgil tilts his head a bit. “You…you do know what you look like when you’re in love, don’t you Princey?”
 If Roman’s eyes could go wider than when Virgil said he knew what was going on, well, they do.
“I—I’m—wait, what?”
 “You’re romance, aren’t you?” The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs upward. “Passion, desire, romance, all of that, right?”
 “I am, but—“
 “You—alright, I gotta figure out a way to say this without being sappy as shit,” Virgil grumbles, looking away for a moment. “Okay, uh—you’re—there’s no way to say this and not sound absolutely ridiculous, but um…your color’s red, right?”
 Roman nods, still staring at him.
 “You…your eyes turn red, Roman,” Virgil mumbles, “like…you know how cartoon people get like…hearts in their eyes?”
 “I get literal heart-eyes?”
 “Kind of?” Virgil waves his hand. “You just—you’re—your irises go red and like…sparkly.”
 “They do?”
 “Have you seriously never noticed?”
 “No!” Roman looks like someone just told him Thomas got another Disney job or something. “I—oh my goodness, this is incredible! How can I see this!”
 “Here’s a tip,” Virgil snickers as Roman’s cheeks start to color again, “next time you’re in the kitchen with Patton or something, look at yourself in the mirror or something reflective right after you look at him.”
 “O-okay,” Roman mumbles, “okay, okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this—“
 “Hey—“ Virgil prods him— “you’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes anyway, just go now.”
 “Right!”
 “And…he’s gone,” Virgil sighs, getting up and sinking back to his own room. He pulls on his headphones and turns up the music.
 Had Roman…really never noticed his eyes did that? The dude’s had eyes for—well, as long as you have eyes for. Has he never looked at himself when he’s working before? Jeez, and here Virgil thought Roman was looking in a mirror every two seconds.
 Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s noticed something that none of the others did. But still, what with how…obvious Roman can be sometimes, had the others really never noticed this either?
 As it turns out, the answer is yes, but also no.
 They’re in the living room a few days later and Roman’s bouncing off the walls, as per usual, as Logan looks up every so often from his book, and Patton giggles. Virgil is decidedly not paying attention because of course he isn’t, curled up on the floor out of the way of Roman’s bouncing.
 “Watch where you’re going,” Logan scolds when Roman almost brains himself on the banister, “you’ll hurt yourself.”
 “Pfft,” Roman blusters, “I haven’t paid attention to a single thing in my entire life and I’ll be damned if I start now.”
 Virgil snorts. Patton makes a vague noise of concern. Logan just sighs.
 “Roman, you are clearly intelligent enough to demonstrate that you do pay attention to things.”
 “I dunno,” Virgil says, “he didn’t notice his heart-eyes when he’s in love until I told him about them.”
 Roman sticks his tongue out. Virgil sticks his out back. Then they notice that Logan and Patton are quiet.
 “Guys?”
 “Roman has what?” Logan closes his book. “I…I was also not aware of this.”
 “Hah!” Roman points at Virgil. “See, it’s not just me!”
 “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
 “Patton? Did you also know this?”
 “Y-yeah,” Patton manages, his voice strangely quiet, “I mean, I knew about Roman’s eyes, but…doesn’t he have that all the time? Not just when he’s in love?”
 Oh.
 Oh, shit.
 Roman freezes, his mouth opening and closing without making sounds. Logan looks quizzically back and forth between the two of them until Virgil clambers to his feet and knocks his elbow.
 “C’mon, L, let’s go somewhere else.”
 “Why?”
 “You’ll see.”
 Sure enough, after a few minutes of them walking away to give Roman and Patton some privacy, Logan makes a small ‘ah’ sound.
 “Yeah,” Virgil sighs, “took them long enough.”
 “I am pleased to say that this I did notice.”
 “Right?”
 “I mean it’s not like it isn’t obvious.”
 “That’s what I said.”
 “Honestly, did they believe we couldn’t see?”
 “I don’t think they knew until like, ten seconds ago.”
 “They truly are a bit oblivious, aren’t they?”
 “Oh, hell yeah.”
 Hey, you know how sickeningly adorable Patton and Roman are normally? You know how much more sickeningly adorable they got after this happened?
 Great.
 Now double that.
 Now you have like, some idea of what Virgil’s going through.
 Dates. Kisses. Flowers. Baking together. Sitting on top of each other. Whispers in the corner. Curled around a phone so tight they can’t tell whose legs are whose.
 All.
 The.
 Time.
 Is Virgil happy for them? Yes. Absolutely. Great for them. Is he also about to down a bottle of soy sauce to even out the amount of pure sugar he’s being forced to consume? Pass that salt factory over here, please, pronto. That’s probably why the feeling that twisted in his chest hasn’t gone away any.
 “Seriously,” Virgil huffs to Logan after the two of them vanish from the kitchen, “Thomas is gonna have so many cavities.”
 “That’s not how it works, Virgil.”
 “But it fucking could be.”
 “I must say I think this has had a…positive impact on Thomas,” Logan says instead, “that his heart and his ego are so…compatible.”
 Virgil snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”
 “I suppose it makes sense.”
 “Yeah, yeah, it makes sense. Right brain boys, we get it. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m drowning in a gallon of vanilla syrup every time I walk into a fucking room.”
 “Alright, enough,” Logan says, giving Virgil a reprimanding look that’s just this side of too smiley to be effective, “I need more coffee.”
 “Ooh, get me some too?”
 “I have a better idea: why don’t you come with me?”
 Virgil groans. “But that requires moving. And effort.”
 “You have legs.”
 “But—“ Virgil wriggles down into the nice little divot in the couch cushions— “comfy.”
 Logan sighs, shaking his head in what might be fond exasperation. “Very well. Hold this.”
 “Okay,” Virgil mutters, taking Logan’s empty coffee mug, “what are you—hey!”
 Logan, because apparently none of them have noticed that he can apparently do this, simply tucks Virgil under his arm like a sack of potatoes, conveniently ignoring the fact that Virgil is, you know, a fucking heavy-ass person, and walks off toward the kitchen like this is absolutely fucking normal.
 “Do I even weigh anything to you?”
 “Your weight is not insubstantial.”
 Well, judging by the way Logan’s just walking, like a normal person, uh, it doesn’t seem like it.
 “How—since when—what?”
 “Articulate as always, Virgil,” Logan remarks, stride never faltering, “I do seek to maintain some level of physical fitness.”
 “Some level of—Logan, you’re carrying me like it’s nothing!”
 Logan glances down and raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
 Nope. Absolutely not. Not from this angle. Holy shit.
 “No,” Virgil squeaks, “no, nope. I’m good. No problems.”
 Logan hums and looks away, easily setting Virgil back on his feet once they get to the kitchen.
 Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine right now. Everything’s so fine. Everything’s so fine and good right now in the way that it’s happening. It’s never not been fine. Virgil’s never been more fine in his fucking life.
 Holy fuck.
 Okay, so Virgil was not observant enough to pick that up the first time around—get it? No? Fuck you, that was funny—but he does start noticing it more often. How Logan can just sigh and pick up the couch to grab his pencil, or how he never balks at having to put away the really heavy dishes that Patton struggles with. It’s—okay. Yep, he can deal with this. Totally.
 Virgil just sees a lot, okay?
 Which means that he can see how Roman and Patton react when they first realize how strong Logan is.
 Patton’s looking for something in the top of the cupboard, straining on his tiptoes. He sighs and starts to try and climb the counter.
 “Patton!” Logan rushes into the kitchen past Virgil who sits back to watch the show. “Don’t do that, you know how dangerous it is.”
 “I know, I know, but I can’t find the brown sugar, I think I pushed it back too far!”
 “Just get the step stool, you know where it is.”
 “But it takes so long to reorganize the closet to get it out,” Patton protests, “and I know where it is, it won’t take long.”
 “We do need to fix that, don’t we?” Logan sighs. “Alright. You say you know where it is?”
 “Yes! I can see it, I just can’t reach it.”
 “Alright. Ready?”
 “Ready for—oof!”
 Patton squeals when Logan just…picks him up and holds him by the cupboard, clutching Logan’s arms like he’s going to fall.
 “L-Logan!”
 “Can you reach it?”
 “Y-yeah, I can probably—oh my goodness, Lo, you’re strong!”
 “I’m not going to drop you, Patton, just grab the sugar.”
 “Okay, okay, I, um…” Patton fidgets, still clutching Logan’s hands. “Gosh!”
 “Patton? The sugar?”
 “R-right!” Patton pulls the bag of sugar out of the cupboard as Logan lowers him gently to the ground. “Wow, thanks, Logan!”
 “Of course. Though we really must get the closet reorganized, the step stool does not good if we can’t easily access it…”
 Virgil snickers as Logan goes off about the closet. He knows damn well Patton is not paying any attention to what he’s saying. He catches Virgil’s eyes and just mouths ‘wow!’
 Virgil responds with a shrug of ‘what can you do?’
 “Virgil?”
 “What’s up, L?” He cranes his neck back to peer up at Logan.
 “Patton has requested that we all come to stay in the kitchen,” Logan says, offering a hand to pull Virgil to his feet. Virgil briefly entertains the idea of making Logan pick him up again when he decides against it.
 “Okay…?”
 “Do you happen to know where Roman is,” Logan asks as he pulls Virgil up, “or no?”
 “I think he’s in the Imagination?”
 Logan rolls his eyes. “Then you may as well come with me. We’ll have a better chance of finding him.”
 Virgil tips Patton a lazy two-fingered salute as they make their way up the stairs. Sure enough, the bright red door to the Imagination is ajar, and as Logan steps through, Virgil spots a castle, a briar garden, and many many cloud fortresses above.
 “Well,” Logan huffs as Virgil closes the door, “he’s not running out of energy any time soon.”
 “Good.”
 “Quite.” Logan glances around. “Well, we’d better start looking.”
 Virgil’s about to agree when he hears something whistling above him. He looks up and squints.
 He takes two steps to the left.
 “Virgil?” Logan turns around. “What’re you doing?”
 In response, Virgil just points up.
 Logan follows his finger, his expression changing from one of confusion to that familiar fond exasperation again. Virgil expects him to glance around for something soft, or squishy, or at the very least move out of the way.
 Instead, Logan simply sighs, takes two steps closer, and holds out his arms…
 …and catches Roman effortlessly in a princess carry.
 “Hello, Roman,” Logan says like he didn’t just fucking do that, “Patton wants everyone downstairs.”
 “I don’t think Roman’s got speech right now, L,” Virgil snickers.
 Indeed, Roman—which, hang on, let’s preface this by saying this is a reasonable reaction, okay? Logan just fucking caught him after falling from god knows how high like he weighs less than a fucking pillow, this is not something that just happens—is staring open-mouthed at Logan, panting heavily, frozen in Logan’s arms. Logan tilts his head.
 “Roman? Are you okay?”
 Virgil snorts when Roman suddenly flails and tries to struggle out of Logan’s arms.
 “Roman,” Logan says sternly and holy fuck, “if you want me to put you down I will, but if you do that you’re going to hurt yourself.”
 “Yep,” Roman squeaks, “you can—you can put me down, I can walk, you can put me down.”
 “There we go.” Logan puts him down only for Roman to quickly brush himself off and dart toward the door. “Where are you going?”
 “Patton! Downstairs! Forgot! Bye!”
 “Well, he seems to be in a hurry,” Logan sighs, adjusting his glasses, only to frown at Virgil when Virgil just bursts out laughing. “What?”
 “No, no, you gotta—holy shit!” Virgil doubles over, still cackling. “Oh my god, his face.”
 “I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Logan says a moment later when Virgil’s wiping tears from his eyes, “did I do something wrong?”
 The concerned question sobers Virgil, at least enough to stop dying. “No, no, L, you’re fine. Roman’s just…having a moment.”
 “Because he forgot about Patton’s request,” Logan nods, “and does not wish to offend him.”
 “…yeah, that’s it.”
 “Well,” Logan says, dusting himself off, “let’s not be late too, hmm?”
 “Sure, L.”
 Logan might not know why Roman and Patton are muttering furiously to each other and spring apart the second they appear around the end of the stairs, but Virgil does. He just chuckles and winks and settles in to watch a dinner of the three of them being absolutely idiots.
 It’s fine.
 It’s so fine.
 It’s probably because he was laughing so hard that his chest still hurts.
 This lasts for like a week, and Virgil’s fucking face hurts from laughing at their fucking faces and trying to hide how hard he’s fucking laughing. And yeah okay Virgil’s in no position to judge, he’s got no idea how ridiculous he looked when he got jump scared by Logan’s freaky strength.
 And it’s just not fucking fair because if it was Roman, they’d all expect it. He’d be sweeping them off their feet every two seconds and they’d be used to it by now. If it were Patton, he’d just pick them up and hug them and be the best dad ever and that would be great. But no, it’s Logan.
 Logan who’s…Logan. Who can calm them all down better than anyone else but also has that sharp-as-hell tongue and quick wit that runs circles around them. Fuck. He’s just—gah.
 Okay, at least Virgil’s not alone here. He’s seen Patton fumble through his words around a surprisingly patient Logan for ages now, and watched Roman stand way too close to Logan too. And yeah, okay, he’s seen the way Logan looks at them too.
 So much so that he bites the bullet one day and sighs, tugging Logan out of the living room and to his room.
 “Virgil? What’s going on?”
 “What’s going on,” Virgil sighs, “is that if I have to look at you pining over them for one more second I am going to scream.”
 Logan, to his credit, doesn’t try and deny it. Instead, he simply adjusts his tie and glasses, studiously avoiding Virgil’s gaze. “I suppose it really is that obvious.”
 “To me, yeah, to those two, not so much.”
 “I will get over this, I’m working on it.”
 “God, no, L, that’s not what I—“ Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just talk to them, okay?”
 “Are you certain? But you’d be…okay with this?”
 Virgil levels a stare at him. “Dude, have you not seen how they look at you?”
 “…no?”
 “What is it like for you guys? It must be so boring.”
 “I can assure you,” Logan says wryly, “I can see perfectly well.”
 “Sure, Specs.”
 “Alright, that’s enough.”
 “Yeah, uh-huh. Sure.”
 “Virgil!”
 “No, no, I’m just saying it’s interesting that—“
 “That’s enough.”
 Virgil gulps. “Mhmm. Okay. Yep. Got it.”
 He wisely does not go into the living room for the rest of the day.
 There’s a lot Virgil sees. He sees the way Logan makes two extra mugs of coffee, sits just so on the couch, touches the small of Roman’s back or the crook of Patton’s shoulder. He sees the way Roman smiles when he looks at Patton the way he doesn’t smile any other time, wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, keeps his door cracked a little more than usual. He sees the way Patton fusses over the cookies, making sure they’ve always got Roman’s chips and Logan’s pretzels stocked, walks in the middle of the two of them with their hands swinging.
 He sees a lot.
 And, uh…he realizes something.
 Remember that, uh, funny feeling in his chest that he totally thought was from somewhere else?
 Listen, just because he sees a lot of stuff doesn’t mean he’s the best at recognizing it.
 So yeah. He’s, uh…
 You know.
 Don’t make him say it.
 As it turns out, that can make you blind to certain things. When he’s hyper-focusing on the things he knows he’s going to see, he doesn’t really have the space to realize there’s a whole host of things he doesn’t see.
 He doesn’t see the way Patton’s smile drops when Virgil declines his invitation to movie night, saying he doesn’t wanna crash or invade. He doesn’t notice the way Roman makes a point to ask permission to hug Virgil too, cradling him with a tenderness he doesn’t notice that he’s only seen for the others. He doesn’t realize how much Logan’s behavior toward him is how Logan treats Roman and Patton now.
 He doesn’t notice much past the ache in his chest.
 Then he has a panic attack on their date night and the pain sharpens to an unbearable whine.
 They’re not coming. They’re not coming. There’s no one here to help him, he’s alone, he’s always going to be alone, in the dark, in the shadows, away from the light. They’re not worrying about him, why would they? They’ve got each other, they don’t need him, they’ve never needed him, not like he needs them, he’s—he’s all alone, he doesn’t have anyone, no one wants him, he’s going to die like this. He’s alone. It’s cold. The cold is painful. His chest burns from how cold it is. He can’t breathe, it’s so cold.
 “Virgil?”
 No one is here, no one is coming.
 “Roman, can you—?”
 Something bangs in the distance.
 “Virgil!”
 Strong arms wrap around him and pull him into something warm. More strong arms cover his hands and gently pry them away from his face. Something soft rubs his face and strokes over his back.
 “I need you to breathe with me, kiddo, come on…”
 “We’re right here, Stormcloud, you just calm down now.”
 “It’s okay, Virgil, everything is okay.”
 They’re…here?
 No, no, no, they’re not supposed to be here, it’s their date night, they—oh, god they’re missing their date night for him and he’s ruining it and they’re going to hate him now and—and—
 “Shh, shh,” comes Logan’s voice from somewhere above him, “hush now, Virgil, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”
 “You’re safe, sweetheart,” Patton coos, “I promise. You just sit with Logan for a minute, okay?”
 “I’m—I’m so—sor—sorr—“
 “None of that, shadowling,” Roman murmurs, brushing—wait, what?—brushing his lips over the back of Virgil’s shaking hand, “it’s not your fault.”
 The ache in Virgil’s chest expands and collapses in on itself again.
 Logan makes a comforting noise, tugging Virgil gently this way and that until he’s square in Logan’s arms, his head pillowed in the crook of Logan’s neck. Roman’s hand cards through his hair. Patton taps the 4-7-8 rhythm gently on his arm.
 “Virgil, honey?” Patton reaches up to dab at his damp cheek when he mumbles a full apology. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
 “Yeah,” Virgil manages, “y-you can go now, ‘m sorry.”
 Roman chuckles. “If you think we’re leaving you, little demon, you’ve got another thing coming.”
 “B-but you—“
 “Shh, shh,” Roman says quickly when Virgil’s breathing starts to pick up again, “take it easy, V, it’s okay, we’re not in a hurry.”
 “It’s your date night,” Virgil blurts, the words clumsy and too loud in his mouth, “you—you shouldn’t have to be here. W-with—“
 “…with,” Patton prompts gently, “with what, kiddo?”
 “…with me.”
 “Oh, kiddo…”
 “If you think,” Roman says quietly, “that we’d rather be anywhere else than right here, with you, at any time, you’re sorely mistaken, V.”
 Wait.
 What?
 “B-but we’re—you’re—I’m not—“
 “Not what, kiddo?”
 “…yours.”
 Saying it out loud punctures his chest again. Tears well up in his eyes as he buries his face shamefully in Logan’s neck.
 “…oh my god,” he hears Roman say faintly, “it happened!”
 “But I thought we—we were being more obvious!”
 “I know! I thought we were too! But this happened! It’s just like the stories, oh my goodness—“
 “Oh, kiddo…”
 Virgil can’t process any of that right now, thank you very much, because he’s currently hiding in Logan’s embrace and would rather never emerge again.
 If he had, well, he may have been a little more prepared for Logan to cup his face with one hand and pull back enough to look him in the eyes.
 “Virgil,” Logan whispers, “we thought you already were.”
 Stop.
 Wait.
 Pause.
 Go back.
 Rewind.
 “What?”
 “Surely you’ve noticed, kiddo, haven’t you?” Patton squeezes his arm. “We love you, Virgil.”
 “B-but—you—“
 “Stormcloud,” Roman whispers, brushing his lips over Virgil’s cheek, “we do, and you’re ours as much as you’d like to be.”
 “I—I—Logan—“
 “Patton’s right,” Logan says, still cupping Virgil’s face as he wipes away stray tears, “to be honest, I….well, I thought you and I were in a relationship long before Patton and Roman.”
 “You what?”
 In response, Logan leans forward and kisses Virgil’s forehead.
 “You don’t think I’d do that for just anyone,” he whispers, too quiet for the others to hear, “do you?”
 Hello, yes, hi, Virgil has precisely zero idea what’s going on right now, so uh, if everyone could just hold the fuck on for two seconds it would be greatly appreciated.
 “Aww, Left Brain boys!”
 “Shh!”
 Virgil isn’t interrupting date night.
 The others care about him.
 The others love him.
 The others want him to be a part of their family.
 Logan thought they were in a relationship already.
 “Shh, shh,” Logan shushes, his thumb stroking Virgil’s shaking cheek, “you don’t have to say anything right now, darling. This is a lot, I’m sure.”
 “Logan’s right.” Roman ruffles Virgil’s hair. “We’ll be here for you, Stormcloud.”
 “And that’s a promise.”
 Yeah, Virgil’s brain is way too fried by all of this to process any of it. But he does know that Roman’s hand in his hair is warm and soft and perfect. He knows that Patton’s murmuring something quietly that’s lulling him right to sleep. He knows that Logan is still holding him tightly, his lips pressed to his forehead, whispering how much they love him.
 “Go to sleep, darling,” Logan whispers, “we’ll be here when you wake up.”
 “…rude?”
 “You’re not being rude, kiddo, promise.”
 “Close your eyes,” Roman calls softly, his fingers scratching around Virgil’s head, “and you’ll see, Stormcloud.”
 As Virgil’s eyes drift closed, maybe…maybe they’re right.
 Maybe it’ll be a little easier to see that way.
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lovelylogans · 3 years
Text
the warmest hello (to the coldest goodbye)
once a spy, always a spy forever, forever the warmest hello to the coldest goodbye remember, remember -spies are forever, the tin can bros
warnings: undercover spy work, mention of weapons, drugging someone into unconsciousness/giving someone a roofie, essentially the start of an enemies to lovers fanfiction
pairings: virgil/logan, offscreen roman/patton
words: 4,465
notes: this is for day 7 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “free day” and i have decided to write a combination soulmates and rival spies au! please enjoy!
Not that Virgil would admit it, but, like literally every other marked person, he's tried to imagine how he might meet his soulmate. He just didn't ever spare any thought on what he'd do if it happened on the job.
His official cover to his friends (which was mostly his cousin Roman and Roman’s husband Patton) was that he was an analyst—he was always vague about what exactly it was he analyzed, but since neither of them were particularly mathematically inclined, and both were maybe a bit too trusting for their own good, they took him at his word.
Even when he was sent off on various unusual "business trips.”
It’s not like Virgil’s mark is very specific about when and where it’ll happen. Virgil knows that variations of "sorry about that” make for a large percentage of common soulmarks. 
There’s protocols in place, of course, but Virgil had never really paid attention to those classes while training to be a spy. The Lewis clause is the kind of thing Virgil didn’t pay as much attention to, because it didn’t seem as useful as understanding the technology or how to make a cover. The Lewis clause is what to do when someone meets a soulmate on the job—there are specifications for if the soulmate is a target, a team member, or an enemy.
Virgil hadn’t really cared at the time. He’d kick himself for that later.
Any number of meetings occurred accidentally—knocking something over, bumping into someone, or, like his cousin Roman's soulmate did, take Roman's coffee thinking it was his own hot chocolate. They got married two winters ago, just so they could serve hot beverages in cold weather.
He thinks the iteration stamped in black along his left inner arm, "I'm very sorry about this," with the addition of "oh no, it's you” tacked on at the end of his makes it likely that whatever he says will, A, likely be first, B, be somewhat unique, or unique enough to be immediately recognizable, and C, be in the aftermath of some kind of accident.
He ends up being partially right. What he says is first and it is somewhat unique. What his soulmate apologizes for is no accident, though.
Virgil does undercover work, sure, but it's very rare for him to enter the James Bond style locale he's at today, and that he’s been working for the past couple months; the marble ballroom he's circling is dripping with gold chandeliers and matching heavy, velvet curtains that accent the floor-to-ceiling windows. There’s a string quartet in the corner, barely audible over the chatter of rich socialites. Virgil, deeply uncomfortable in his white-tie attire, is circling the room in an attempt at looking like he attends charity balls all the time.
He sucks at it.
As if on cue, his earpiece crackles to life.
"How the fuck did you ever qualify to be a spy?" Janus, his tech man and eye in the sky, snickers into his ear. "Your acting skills are horrendous. If you auditioned for The Room right now, they wouldn't let you into the cast.”
"Fuck off,” Virgil fake-coughs into his shoulder.
"Christ, at least try to look like you're mingling, not like you've stalked the target here."
Unable to stop himself, he glances toward the target he's meant to be watching.
The target, who is so staggeringly wealthy it could make Virgil, who is trying to pay off his student debt on a spy's salary (not as high as one might think) burst into tears. Or, much more likely, start ranting about the myriad flaws of capitalism. If so inclined, he could honestly probably steal the amount of money necessary from one of her offshore accounts, and it would be as unnoticeable as someone taking a penny from him.
Mary Lee Truman is standing amidst a flock of suited men, like a dove amidst a flock of dour crows; her dress is slinky silk, a shade of champagne that glimmers rose-gold in the right shade of light. She’s standing leaned to one side, her hip popped out and an arm crossed over her stomach, a crystal-cut champagne flute dangling in her fingers as if she was born to hold one.
Her husband, Lee Truman (fuck if that wasn’t confusing, it was really easier to think of them by their codenames) is off by the bar, seemingly getting himself another drink. 
His eyes stray to Mary Lee again; he can tell a couple of the suits are hired muscle, bodyguards, which makes sense, as the Trumans are allegedly a massive crime family, doing their dirty dealings in plain sight. A couple of the suits he recognizes from dossiers; one is a business partner of Lee’s father, who might not even know what the Truman family really gets up to; one absolutely knows what the Truman family gets up to, as Virgil’s read his rap sheet and knows he’s been in and out of jail due to his assignments from the mob.
There’s one suit there that really doesn’t seem to fit the mold of either category.
For one thing, he’s around Virgil’s age; for another, he isn’t rippling with muscle. Not that he doesn’t look fit; his well-tailored suit shows off his broad shoulders, his biceps, his lean waist. He’s dark-haired, and pale, and blue-eyed, and he’s standing next to Mary Lee with a look that Virgil would think of as dour, but now that he’s looking closely, the blue-eyed man looks almost... calculating.
This man wasn’t in the dossier.
Almost everyone at this ball was in the dossier.
Virgil looks away from Mary Lee and the handsome man, and instead decides to start taking up Janus’ advice; he slowly moves through the room.
Well. He's doing it to get closer to Mary Lee, but sure, he can attempt to mingle.
He traverses through the room, his fancy shoes clicking on the marble floor, mindful to not step on any dress hems—he has it easy, as his directive was simply to wear his white tie with his hidden weapons, his ear piece, and his lapel pin that records everything he's seeing. The women in the room provide the only splashes of color outside of the black suits and white shirts of the men, the gleaming marble, the gold- accented glasses and dishware. Even what little art he's seen follows that color theme -- white marble busts, abstract black and white paintings in their gilded frames, a gold statue outside the front steps, as if to greet the partygoers.
But the women of the party aren't beholden to this strict color scheme. Gowns of pink chiffon, red lace, blue taffeta, deep violet velvet, Virgil passes them all, keeping one eye out for rose gold silk.
He ends up instituting himself in a ring of people listening intently to an art history professor talking about the architectural significance of his building—he introduces himself with his cover name, James Walker, to the man next to him, who Virgil already knows is a Truman cousin. He gives a fake first name too—he says his name is Alex, when Virgil knows it’s really Bruce. Okay. Something to take note of.
He listens to the art history professor talk about art deco with just one ear, the other straining to eavesdrop on Mary Lee and her suits.
“Do you think our beneficiary approaches?” Mary Lee murmurs to the blue-eyed one, the one that wasn’t in the dossier.
“Oh, I know he does,” the blue-eyed man says to her. He has a pleasant British accent, the kind of voice that would be right at home on a nature documentary calmly narrating the eating habits of wolverines, or something like that. “According to all my research, our previous beneficiary is no longer within our purview. A new one will have been instilled in hasty time. As a matter of fact, I believe I would be able to point him out to you right now.”
Mary Lee sighs, a little, and the man continues talking about their charity. Virgil’s mind races. He knows the Truman’s “charity work” almost always acts as a sieve to run dirty money through, so what would it mean, that they got a new beneficiary? A new target, maybe? A new directive?
Either way, this is almost definitely some kind of code they’re talking in. He tunes a bit more into the art history professor’s impromptu lecture—he’s taking a brief tangent into talking about Tamara de Lempicka—as he ruminates on that particular conversation between the blue-eyed Brit and Mary Lee.
Then he ends up in conversation with an elderly woman beside him, who wants to know who he is—James Walker, I run a business a state or two over, I’m interested in diversifying my assets—and if he’s been to any art museums in town. Both he and the man he is meant to be have not, but it turns out she’s a curator and has numerous suggestions for him.
He also knows this woman, Ida Kelly, has been paying into the Truman business for quite some time, and has potentially ordered hits using the Truman’s muscle.
“Madam,” a suited waiter shows up at her side, as if on cue, and hands her a small glass full of what looks like a gin-and-tonic.
“Oh, yes, thank you,” she says, taking her drink immediately.
The waiter turns to him. There is a singular champagne flute on the tray. “Sir.”
“I didn’t order anything,” Virgil says stupidly, before he realizes that almost everyone here is taking champagne flutes off of trays, and he supposes this waiter just wants to clear his before he has to double back and get more. “Oh, all right.”
He takes it. It’s a delicate, crystal-cut glass. He’s almost a little afraid that if he holds it wrong, it’ll break.
“Really, we’re doing an Impressionism exhibit, and it is positively divine,” she says.
Very suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, emanating warmth through his suit and Virgil jumps, a little—he hopes whoever it is didn’t feel one his knives. Or, God forbid, his gun.
He turns to see no one, when a hand touches his opposite arm, and he turns again. It turns out to be the blue-eyed Brit, who is staring only at Ida, brushing past him, allowing his hand to trail down Virgil’s arm, touching his hand as if to say, please stay there, I do not want to bump into you.
At such a close range, Virgil can smell his absolutely incredible cologne, see his defined jawline, the way his blue eyes gleam.
Ida brightens. “Darling!”
“Ida,” the Brit says warmly. “I visited that display myself, it was simply wonderful.”
“Oh, you’re too kind,” she says, clearly drinking up the praise. Virgil looks between them, feeling even more awkward than he has all night.
“Wait a goddamned minute,” Janus murmurs in his ear, after such a long stretch of silence that it makes Virgil jump again. There’s the sound of rapid typing.
“A victory!” The man says, lifting his glass—it looks to be full of whiskey. “A toast, to your latest triumph.”
“Oh, now,” she says, but when the other surrounding suits start lifting their glasses, Virgil lifts his, as well.
“To Ida Kelly,” the Brit says. “One of the finest artistic minds to walk the earth at our time!”
Virgil takes a sip of his champagne at the same time as everyone else; another woman in a deep green gown with a shawl edged in feathers takes Ida’s arm, rhapsodizing about the Impressionism movement and the latest event that her art gallery had put on.
It takes about a minute for Virgil to notice his vision going blurry in the corners.
It takes him about ten seconds of blinking hard and rubbing his eyes, hoping to clear it, to stumble over his own two feet.
It takes five seconds for Janus’ voice to buzz to life in his earpiece, urgent, “Virgil, get out of there, get away from that man, that’s Lo—”
It takes him about two seconds after that to notice that the blue-eyed Brit is looking at him with an expression clearly lacking remorse.
It takes him about half a second to realize the finger tapping one shoulder, his hand at his hand—the same hand that had been holding his champagne flute. He hadn’t been looking at his drink. The Brit had made him turn away from his drink.
The Brit put something in his drink.
Virgil’s been made.
“Good God, man,” another suited man says, when Virgil stumbles over his own two feet, “had enough of the bubbly, have you?”
Virgil ignores him; even as his vision is growing blurrier and blurrier, his eyes are intent on the Brit, staggering towards him, and he doesn’t even really know why. He’s been made, he should be running, but—
"Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?" Virgil slurs, and his sudden lack of physical control resoundingly answers the question before the Brit can; the arms that catch him before he can full flat on his face are muscular and warm. He’s distantly aware of the crystal-cut grass slipping from his hand and shattering on the marble.
The warm, muscular arms are more pressing than that. And, for a dirty rotten criminal who has probably killed people, the man is quite handsome. His bespectacled face swims in Virgil's vision.
"'I'm very sorry about this," he says smoothly, before his eyes widen in alarm. "Oh no.”
As Virgil is on the verge of unconsciousness, he hears, "It's you."
His last three thoughts before he slips under: did he just fucking say what he thought he said, then, good God his eyes are so blue, then, fuck, I should have paid way more attention to the Lewis clause.
Virgil is aware of three things as he wakes up: one, he feels like he has a dreadful hangover. Two, he’s pretty sure he’s in a plane or train or car or something moving, which makes him feel motion sick.
Three, he’s been stripped of his earpiece and his weapons.
He blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting; it’s night time, but even the low light is making Virgil’s eyes hurt.
This is a limousine, he can tell that much off the bat; the partition is closed, the glass tinted as dark as it legally can be, the interior leather light-colored, the bar fully stocked with different sodas and crystal-cut decanters full of various liquors, which makes him wince in memory of the champagne.
He feels like shit, but when he looks over and sees the blue-eyed Brit—his soulmate—his soulmate who had fucking drugged him and was working with the mob—it makes him feel even shittier.
“Ah,” his soulmate says. He’s sitting with one ankle resting on his knee, a squat glass of whiskey in hand. He has glasses on now that he hadn’t had on before. Also, his accent is no longer British; he’s got a nice Italian lilt to his voice, now. “Good. You’re awake.”
Virgil stares at him. He doesn’t say a word.
“I’ll admit this,” he gestures between them, “rather put a cinch in my plan on how to deal with you.”
“Would you have killed me?” Virgil asks. His voice comes out a croak. “If we weren’t...”
He trails off.
The man’s eyebrow arches, before he shrugs, and rolls up his sleeve. His soulmark is in the same place as Virgil’s—stamped across his left inner arm, in the spiky handwriting Virgil only uses in his personal notes, not the more uniform one he writes reports with.
Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?!
Undeniably a matching soulmark to his.
“My parents were quite bemused by it, when it showed up,” the Brit—or American?—the blue-eyed—his soulmate says. “I suppose we have our answers now.”
“Do we?” he says. 
The man takes a sip of whiskey. Then, he says, “Your predecessor was FBI. Are you the same?”
Virgil tenses. The man rolls his eyes again.
“Please,” he murmurs. “For an organization meant to be secretive, your lot are quite obvious when you trade moles in and out. One comes in, goes out, and coincidentally someone new is knocking on the door within the week. It’s absurdly simple to pinpoint who’s reporting back to your government. So. FBI, CIA, military...?”
“Who gives a fuck,” Virgil says.
“One should know what one’s soulmate does for a living, shouldn’t they?” he says. “This is a very unique situation. I’m simply trying to find out—”
“What do you do for a living, then?” Virgil snarls. His head is pounding, his mouth is dry and it tastes dreadful, his soulmate is an asshole working for the other side, and he’s being carted off to God knows where. This day is one of the worst of his life. Why couldn’t he have had a nice little café meet-cute, like Roman had had?
The man smiles at him, not particularly kindly. “I diversify.”
Virgil pulls a face, because he knows that’s poking fun at his cover.
“What,” Virgil says, “poison people on Monday, go to Ida Kelly’s resort on Tuesday, with a fun little Friday jaunt of killing people who cross the Trumans?”
“I’ve never actually been to the museum Ida Kelly curates,” the man admits. “It was an easy way to insert myself near you, to put it in your drink. And for goodness’ sake, it wasn’t poison.”
“Roofie. Drug. Whatever.”
The man’s eyebrows pull together, in a rather petulant expression. “I designed that myself, you know.”
“Well, it’s shit,” Virgil snaps. “I feel like I have the worst hangover of my goddamn life.”
“Yes, that was part of the design,” the man says, and offers him a glass of water.
Virgil stares at him. “Seriously.”
“No trust between soulmates?” He says.
“Yeah, well. Fool me once.”
The man shrugs, putting down the glass of water into a cupholder, before digging out a sealed water bottle. Virgil takes it and places it into a cupholder near him. No fucking way he’s accepting any food or drink from this man.
His lips quirk up into a smile.
“Where are you taking me?” Virgil says, ignoring the way that smile makes his heart pound.
“That rather depends,” he admits. 
“On?”
“Well.” He says. He uncrosses his legs, planting both feet on the floor. “I’m assuming that now the man in your little earpiece—he was rather rude—is aware that you have been, what is it you say? Made?”
Virgil nods.
“Well. Now that he, and therefore your employer, knows that you are made, you won’t be poking your nose into Truman business anymore, will you?”
Virgil grits his teeth. “Not undercover.”
The man ignores that. “And I know that no matter which you work for, the Lewis clause has been adopted across every arm of that government, and as such you’ll be prohibited from any mission that might bring you into contact with me.”
God damn it. How does he know the spy lessons better than Virgil does?
And then it occurs to him: Janus knew that man. He warned Virgil to get away from him, to get away from Lo—
He rolls this information around in his head. The Lewis clause isn’t exactly a widely advertised part of being a spy; there was a whole trilogy of novels that got adapted into secret agent movies, years ago, that concerned opposing agent spies coming to face each other again and again, and the secondary soulmate agents teamed up together. Which the Lewis clause would prevent, but the public who went and read those novels or saw those movies wouldn’t know that. 
So either this man—Lo? Lo what?—either knows a lot about spies, because he’s one of those know your enemy types, or...
Or he sat down and learned about the Lewis clause the same way that Virgil did, except he actually sat down and listened. Maybe he defected, maybe he’s dirty? Or maybe Virgil’s just overthinking it.
Look. Virgil’s got a lot of questions here. Chief among which:
“Where are you taking me?”
“Away,” the man says vaguely, looking at him. “Are you gay?”
Virgil gapes at him.
“I’d be perfectly fine with a platonic soulmate, but for the sake of disclosure, I am gay.”
“For the sake of disclosure,” Virgil repeats disbelievingly, and pinches the bridge of her nose, rubbing it. God, his head hurts terribly. 
“Bisexual, or pansexual, perhaps?” He prompts. “Asexual? Or... you could be straight, I suppose.”
“Ugh,” Virgil says reflexively, then shakes himself. “I’m not—okay. Fine. Yeah, I’m gay too.”
“All right,” the man says, as if noting it. “What’s your name?”
Virgil snorts.
“What?”
“Okay, I don’t—” he gestures to the limousine around them. “Again, you just drugged me. I don’t know where you’re taking me. You probably would have killed me if I hadn’t said those words.”
The man makes a moue of distaste.
“Or had someone kill me, I don’t know,” Virgil amends. “Either way, you’re working with that family, who I’m assuming aren’t pleased at having a spy getting caught trying to work himself into your ranks, so I’d rather you not know all that much about my life, thanks.”
“It’s not like I’m asking for your,” an infinitesimal pause, as if he’s wracking his brain, trying to remember something, “social security number or anything. A name.”
Virgil stares at this man. Lo—. Lo something. Lochlan? Loyd? Or was it a codename?
“Yours first.”
The man pauses.
“You drugged me,” Virgil says.
He smiles at Virgil. “Will you hold this over my head for the rest of our lives?”
The rest of our lives. Yes, that’s meant to be the fairytale ending for soulmates, isn’t it? A nice little meeting, the swell of overdramatic violins in the background, falling into each other’s arms and forming a life together. That’s the popular answer.
More and more recently, though, people have been advocating for choice; that soulmates are not always the best person for you.
Virgil doesn’t know which camp he and this man will fall into, just now.
“Yes,” Virgil says quietly. “Yes, I think I will.” 
The man sets aside his whiskey.
“Logan.” He says at last, and his accent has changed again; it’s vague, almost indecipherable, but if Virgil had to guess he’d say Midwestern American. Virgil wonders if it’s his real one. “My name is Logan.”
Logan.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Since discovering you’re my soulmate? I haven’t lied to you at all. Not a word.”
“Except for the accent.”
Logan laughs.
“Habit, sorry. It’s a long story that perhaps the man screaming in your earpiece will be able to tell you one day.”
Virgil jolts with surprise. “You know—?”
He cuts himself off before he can say Janus’ name.
“Reputationally,” Logan says, and, as strange as it is, Virgil believes him. In this, at least.
His soulmate’s name is Logan.
“Virgil.”
Logan smiles, his blue eyes glittering. “It’s nice to meet you, Virgil.”
There’s the sound of a soft knock on the partition, and it lowers; Virgil can’t see the driver.
“Sir? We’re here.”
“Right,” Logan murmurs, shaking himself. He reaches into his jacket and withdraws an envelope, offering it for Virgil.
Virgil hesitates.
Logan rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve laced it with anything. I’m holding it with my bare hands.”
Virgil huffs, but he takes it, opening it and pulling out a thin piece of paper.
It’s a commercial flight ticket to Washington, D.C.
“Why D.C.?” Virgil says quietly.
“Most of those organizations are based there,” Logan says. “Is it too far a jump to assume that you are, as well?”
It is actually too far a jump; it’s not even remotely close, he lives in an entirely different part of the states. But. To be fully honest, he doesn’t want Logan to know the state he lives in, and therefore the state that Patton and Roman live in, until Virgil knows if he can be trusted or not.
Logan opens the limousine door from inside, revealing they’ve pulled up to the local airport.
“What, no private plane?”
“I assumed you wouldn’t trust that,” Logan says with a shrug. “The Trumans may be powerful, but you know as well as I that manipulating a flight of this nature is well outside their purview.”
Logan’s right, he absolutely wouldn’t have trusted that, but. This limo’s pretty swanky. For the time he wouldn’t have been obsessively running over every crack and seam in a private jet and interrogating the pilot, he probably would have had a pretty swell time.
Virgil swallows, looking up at Logan. “There are programs, you know? If you wanted to be a witness. Be in service to—”
Logan smiles at him in a way that’s almost pitying. “I left that life behind a long time ago.”
Virgil looks to the airport, then back at Logan.
“Will I see you again?”
Logan shrugs again, almost delicately. “Who’s to say?”
Virgil nods, once, and he says firmly, “I’ll see you later.”
Logan grins at him. “Not if I see you first.”
Virgil slips out of the limo, slams the door shut, and, with what feels like Herculean effort, manages to get into the airport without looking back to see if he can see Logan through the tinted glass.
He does exchange the ticket for another that’s an hour and a half later, though. He’s not a total idiot.
He gets through security pretty quick, and sits in one of the incredibly uncomfortable chairs, his brain pounding with his headache, the questions swirling around in his head making it even worse. Virgil puts his head in his hands.
He just met his soulmate.
His soulmate is working for a mob family.
He just met his soulmate.
His soulmate is apparently smart enough to specifically engineer a roofie.
His soulmate, though!
Janus knows his soulmate. Janus recognized his soulmate.
His soulmate knew about the fucking Lewis clause.
Was his soulmate a spy too? Was his soulmate in deep cover? Had he betrayed his organization? Was he a good person, or had the universe seen fit to hitch Virgil to someone awful?
How had Logan gotten entangled with the Trumans in the first place? Why wasn’t he in the dossier? 
Where was Logan even from? Did he like coffee? Hot chocolate? What had he studied in school? What was his favorite food? If they were normal people, would he have asked him on a date and not drugged him and dragged him off in a limo? 
Who was Logan?
Whatever the answers to his questions are, though. Virgil knows himself enough to know that he isn’t about to let this case go. Not the Trumans. Not him.
Lewis clause be damned.
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dukeofonions · 3 years
Text
“Because I was one of them.”
“Oh, okay cool.”
Or alternatively: Why Virgil’s confession has lost it’s impact.
Exploring the Dark Sides (Part One)
Something I realized the other day is that a lot of my current issues with this series wouldn’t exist if there was a consistent uploading schedule. 
You see when there’s a steady stream of new content flowing I’m more inclined to just go with the flow and not spend so much time looking back analyzing things I’ve already floated past because why should I when there’s so much new stuff ahead? 
But say that stream suddenly comes to an abrupt stop and I’m left sitting with nowhere else to go. At that point I start looking back, noticing little things that I hadn’t noticed during my initial trip down this metaphorical river. I now notice all the jagged rocks, how shallow the water actually is, etc. 
And while this doesn’t necessarily ruin my experience over all, I’m left scratching my head wondering whose idea it was to come to this place anyway. Sure it’s not the worst place to go floating, but surely there’s a better place with deeper water and less hazards. Just an easier way to float along where one doesn’t have to worry about the stream suddenly ending. 
I don’t know where this metaphor came from but to sum it up: since there are such long waits (years now) between actual Sanders Sides episodes and there’s a lack of new content to take in, I’m left looking back over what we have now and during my little look backs I’ve begun to notice some things that cause issues with the latest additions to the series. 
Some of the more interesting things I’ve noticed revolve around the three resident “Dark Sides” and how they’re written in the series. While a lot of it is really good and I think they’ve got some of the best moments in the series, there’s also a lot of little things that pop up that, when looking at the series as a whole, don’t make a lot of sense. 
Which is why I’ve begun this little series where I do a little deep dive into some of these things I’ve noticed and break them down to see if I can try and make sense of it, and this post is going to focus on Virgil.
More specifically, Virgil’s confession to being a former “Dark Side” and how it’s kinda lost it’s thunder.
As per usual, this is all my own opinion and you’re free to agree or disagree as you see fit. Of course I get pretty salty but I try to avoid getting too negative because where’s the fun in that? 
Anywho, on with the show! 
I’ll admit, despite my problems with the concept of “Dark Sides” as a whole, I genuinely loved the subplot of Virgil hiding that he used to be one of them from Thomas.
From a story telling standpoint they do a good job with the foreshadowing, leaving plenty of clues for the audience to find and it all pays off at the end. It’s also unclear at first whether Roman, Logan, and Patton know (Spoiler alert they do) and there’s some close calls via Janus and Remus dropping hints in front of Thomas which cause Virgil to freak out and adds some tension to the series. 
It also provides a bit of a mystery around Virgil, Janus, and Remus as while it’s clear that the three have some kind of history together we’re never told or shown explicitly how their relationship was. Of course, we’re given plenty of hints, but we have yet to know what life was like when Virgil was “one of them” and it gives the audience more to look forward to and theorize about. 
And of course, the actual reveal itself is amazing. The acting, the music, the complete silence after Virgil confesses and him looking like he’s about to cry as he sinks out is just *cheff’s kiss* perfect.
So what exactly is the problem here? 
The foreshadowing? There’s just enough to get people theorizing but still plenty of room for people to speculate without spelling everything out. 
The reveal? What can I say, I don’t have any complaints here. It’s definitely one of my favorite scenes from the series and I can’t find a single thing wrong with it from a technical stand point.
But as mentioned before, I started thinking about it more, and after taking everything we know about Virgil and "the dark sides" into account, this question suddenly came to mind:
Why is Thomas so shocked by this?
Think about it, when Virgil first appeared he was a little bitch. He was kind of the first antagonist of the series. Not evil per say, but compared to the other Sides he was a little shit who enjoyed bringing Thomas down. He was very much what one might consider a "dark side."
He wasn't ever trying to act like a "good guy" in order to earn Thomas's trust or anything, he was very open about what his role was and how it’s just who he is. So really, Thomas's reaction should have been something along the lines of, "Oh, okay. Makes sense."
Of course, we do see Virgil change over time and we learn that he isn't as bad as he seems (even though that seems questionable now) but that should have made his "past" even more obvious.
Like, Thomas, the guy had a whole acceptance arc because he was a bitch and no one liked him. You were literally there throughout his entire journey, it shouldn't surprise you that he was once part of a group you consider to be "evil."
Well okay, maybe Virgil just wanted to be honest regardless of whether or not the "dark sides" are actually evil or not. Who knows? Maybe he chose to confess when he did because he saw how horribly Remus had been affecting Thomas and seeing as he felt as though he'd failed to protect Thomas from Remus and Janus, figured he might as well try to protect Thomas from himself as well.
Which, okay, if that were the case then that could explain Thomas's reaction. He'd just met Remus, saw him at what could he his worst (we've only had one actual episode with Remus so who knows how bad he can get?) and while he learned that he's actually pretty easy to deal with and isn't as scary as he thought, who's to say the reverse couldn't happen with Virgil?
He saw that he wasn't as bad as he thought, but when you look at how nasty Virgil's been lately, who's to say that couldn't happen? It's been said that Virgil, as Thomas's anxiety, is manageable and isn't as bad as others. But we've literally seen Thomas say that he's afraid of what Virgil could do and so he just kind of has to let him do his thing in order to avoid all the "bad stuff" he could do.
According to Thomas: "There's a lot that Virgil could do that I don't want him to do. He knows exactly how to push my buttons. But he is who he is. All we can do is try to listen to him as best as we can and adapt to his needs."
(For anyone who wants to watch the clip here's the time stamp Embarrassing Phases 20:31)
Uh, yeah, that sounds super healthy there. But I'll get into my issues with that little message in another post.
Just before this though, Roman had asked Thomas if "He's (Virgil) going back to being scary can I go back to calling him names?"
Thomas responds by telling him as he's leaving that he still has to be nice to him, before Logan expresses that he's glad (or relieved) that Virgil didn't go into Thomas's "girl phase" which just hearing it being mentioned seems to stress Thomas out. Then finally after Logan leaves Patton explains that while he's trying to respect Virgil's wants and still be a good friend, he feels like he just makes things worse which is where Thomas attempts to reassure him.
Except his advice is to just, let Virgil do what he wants so he doesn't hurt them? And while he says they need to work with Virgil it doesn't seem like he's requiring Virgil to work with him as well in order to not make his life miserable?
Hm, is it possible that my answer as to why Thomas reacts so strongly to Virgil being "one of them" lies within my least favorite episode in the series?
Perhaps Thomas was already starting to be afraid of Virgil before the whole confession in DWIT, and has gotten to a point where he's forcing himself (shown by him telling the others to keep "being nice to Virgil" despite how he treats them) to just take whatever Virgil throws at him in order to spare himself from whatever worse things Virgil could do to him?
That, added with everything that happens in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, where Thomas witnesses a Side of himself that appears to be worse than Virgil, could have set him on edge. And if Remus, who he considers a dark side, who he openly admits to hating and is so afraid of him that he loses sleep, then just how bad could Virgil be if he was ever at his worst?
With all that in mind, yeah. It does make sense why Thomas would react the way he did and why he'd be cautious of trusting Virgil in the future.
Except, none of this has actually been confirmed within the series and is purely speculation and since we still don't have the season two finale, we really have no idea what Thomas actually feels towards the situation since he kinda brushes it off at the end of DWIT by doing the outro.
But wait... we actually do know how Thomas feels. In fact, we already know how the issue is resolved!
Looks like it's time for-
How Asides Ruins Everything!
You all remember when Asides was first announced, right? These were meant to be shorter, lighter videos that took place outside of the current series and were meant to give us content in between the long breaks for regular Sanders Sides episodes that also wouldn't get in the way of filming said episodes.
Well we all know how that little idea turned out seeing as it's now been a year since Putting Others First and they decided that we needed to have two Asides episodes before the finale that were apparently essential to the "plot" even though the current plot in Sanders Sides has nothing to do with Thomas getting a boyfriend but I digress.
But you know, I wouldn't be as upset about the Asides causing us having to wait longer for the actual story to pick up again, if the Asides episodes didn't ruin the actual series!
How did it manage this? Well, let's just look at Virgil here and the entire point of this post which is, as the title states, why his confession has lost its impact.
And the answer? Well, at some point the writer's decided that the best way to resolve the new conflict between Thomas and Virgil was to have them indirectly make amends by using some random character that is clearly just a stand in for Virgil and use this character's "confession of a past they weren't proud of" as a way to discuss the situation and Thomas's feelings on the matter just to have Thomas indirectly assure Virgil that they're still "okay" and it doesn't bother him.
So according to Asides, Thomas is just fine with Virgil despite his confession. And as we see in the following Asides episode, they're still cool with each other!
So what was the point of that dramatic confession, which was being built up towards throughout pretty much all of season two, just to have the characters indirectly discuss it and make amends like it was nothing???
Why should the audience care when it all just gets brushed aside (ha) like it's no big deal?
Everything was in place for Virgil's reveal before the Asides came into the picture. You had the build up, you had the pay off, there was the suspense when Virgil was completely absent from POF, and then you would have had him confronting Thomas and the two having to directly come to terms with this new information.
But nope! Let's just have them sit awkwardly by each other on the couch while they watch Frozen in onesies while everyone keeps talking about some random character whom the audience has never heard of before that we're supposed to figure out is meant to represent Virgil and Thomas is all "Nah we're still cool bro."
What's supposed to happen now? Janus is supposedly a "good guy" now so why would he bring up Virgil's past to get under his skin? And if he still does why would it bother Thomas since he's already come to terms with it?
Look, even though I've got my problems with the concept of "dark sides" as a whole, it wouldn't have mattered to me if they'd at least committed to telling a good story here with Virgil's past because I was genuinely interested in that.
I freaked out when he told Thomas, and initially I thought we weren't going to see those two interact again until the finale where Virgil would finally have to face Thomas and we'd get to watch how he comes to terms with it. And if Asides hadn't been a thing and we had gone straight from DWIT to POF it looks like this was the direction they were headed.
But instead we're basically told (not shown) by Thomas that he's fine with Virgil. And the reason as to why Virgil's not in POF despite being on good terms with Thomas?
"There was just no reason for him to be there."
Really? There was no reason for Virgil, who was directly part of the discussion that led to POF in the first place, to be present during the aftermath of the decision they all had helped Thomas make?
There was more reason for him to be there than Logan and he still showed up! They had the perfect explanation set up for them in DWIT: Virgil had just revealed his past to Thomas and due to being afraid of how he'd respond (or just wanting to give Thomas space and not stress him out more) chose to remain absent from the conversation.
That actually makes sense and lines up with the story but nope.
The "Dark Sides" and Virgil's past with them was one of my favorite things about the series. The mystery surrounding it all and Virgil trying to protect Thomas from them while keeping his own history with them a secret was a brilliant concept thats just kinda fallen flat on its face.
The long waits between episodes don't help, and how they're rushing through certain aspects within the series itself along with Asides coming in and muddling things up, I don't really care to be invested anymore.
Why should I when there's a chance anything interesting they come up with will just be glossed over like it's no big deal?
It's hard to make a final judgment here in regards to Virgil's current arc when we still have no conclusion in sight. But from what we've seen from Asides, which is now integral to the plot of Sanders Sides, we kinda already have our answer.
Thomas and Virgil are just fine with each other. We learned that Flirting With Social Anxiety takes place right after POF and that Virgil already knows about Janus getting on Thomas's good side so there's no suspension with him finding out about that either.
All that's really left with him is his troubling relationship with Patton but I don't even care about that anymore. They've hardly addressed it at all and given what we've been seeing I doubt the conclusion to their strained relationship won't be satisfying either.
I don't know what the finale, or the rest of the series, will hold concerning Virgil. While I hope that things will turn around and get better, at this current rate it doesn't seem likely.
Episodes are still taking years to make, and the ones we're getting are just distracting from the main plot or taking things away.
Virgil isn't the only character suffering from this, but at least he's not as worse off as others.
Which is why in the next installment of this series, we'll be taking a look at a little, yellow snake and how one of the characters with the most potential ended up being the most underwhelming parts of the series.
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averykedavra · 4 years
Text
So each of the Dark Sides/Others introduce their names in a different way, right? Janus took a while to reveal his and did it very dramatically in a moment of honesty. Remus revealed his in the same episode as he appeared, partly to gloat over Virgil.
If there’s a third Dark Side? What would that side do?
The obvious answer is--they would reveal their name before their function. They would introduce themself with their true name and hide their job from the others.
Why would a Side do that? Well, I’ve been reading this post and I have a theory.
Let’s start with a few basic ideas. This Dark Side will probably act differently than every other character, because Thomas always creates diversity of characters. It would fill a hole in the Sides’ dynamic. We can safely assume this new character will have a different personality than any others.
Also, the Rule of Three and basic storytelling rules implies that this side will be a ‘final boss’ of sorts. Deceit was sneaky and lying, but kind of funny. Remus is shocking but ultimately harmless. Both of them are hilarious and amiable in the right situations, bad but not truly evil. And, as we’ve already seen, Janus has been almost accepted into the Light Sides and Remus will probably follow.
So. It would make sense, narratively, for the final dark side to be far more intimidating and powerful than the first two. This would also fit with the first idea of gaining a character who’s different than every other one. All the Sides have their intimidating moments, like when Logan gets angry or Virgil uses his tempest tongue, but we don’t have a Side that actually elicits fear from the AUDIENCE.
The third idea? If this next Side is Logan’s Dark Side, it might be a side that’s opposite to Logan in a lot of ways. Logan is calm, rational, collected, and serious. He hardly ever smiles and is in some ways the most mature of the group, although he does have a temper and some self-esteem issues.
The fourth idea is the color theory and some ideas from the Obsession post linked above. The color theory states that this side will have an orange color scheme, in order to fill out the rainbow. @strickenwithclairvoyance writes:
“Generally, however, the color orange is to be associated to be youthful, energetic, excited, and creative. Take fandoms. Widely considered to be an “obsession” of sorts (to which we have all fallen victim, if you’re reading this), it is considered a childish thing to be a part of, yet inspires a lot of excitement and creativity. Any kind of obsession can do this, even and especially in extreme cases.”
@dragonsaphirareads adds:
“Obsession is dangerous because unlike intrusive thoughts, it isn’t immediately alarming. The Duke is dangerous because of the core four’s fear. Deceit is dangerous because he has the power to hide things and keep Thomas in the dark. Obsession is dangerous because it approaches you like a friend, and you don’t realize that you’re caught in its trap until it’s already too late.”
So let’s combine all of these and I’ll give you my theory--Logan’s Dark Side, whether Obsession or not, is intimidating, powerful...and probably acts a lot like Patton.
Hear me out. Logan and Patton are some of the most polar opposites. As early as The Mind vs. The Heart they’ve been arguing, and although they never reached that level of discord again, they still snap at each other from time to time. Logan is frustrated by Patton’s puns, childishness, and general “naivete”.
What if the third Dark Side, Logan’s counterpart, acts much the same way? A sweet, maybe even shy, childish type who loves meeting people and is always cracking jokes?
At least, on the surface.
But there’s ugliness beneath that. That smile is fake and that sugary-sweetness disguises a complete lack of empathy. Dark Sides aren’t the complete opposite of their corresponding Light Sides. Morality and Deceit oppose each other, but they both like an argument and make some wonderful puns. And the two Creativities are like mirror images. So Logan’s Dark Side, despite its demeanor, isn’t completely alien from him.
Logan says he doesn’t have emotions, but he does. He just acts like he doesn’t.
Maybe his Dark Side is the inverse of that. Acts like he has emotions...but doesn’t. He seems to be well-adjusted and sweet, but lures you in and sends things spiraling downhill.
Another thing to consider is the dynamic between the two of them. Roman and Remus hate each other. Patton and Janus go from cordial enemies to cordial semi-friends. We’ve never seen a dynamic where one side is afraid of their counterpart.
Maybe Logan is afraid of this Side. Maybe he’s afraid of his ability to socialize, to make friends, to be likable, even without emotions. And he’s always believed he doesn’t have emotions, being logic. This Side, in a way, is everything he wants to be--emotionless but able to get people listening anyway. Maybe he’s insecure that his Dark Side will replace him, be more liked than him, or is just better. Maybe he fears his Dark Side’s power. Maybe he never brings his Dark Side up in conversation, preferring to pretend he doesn’t exist at all.
And maybe, one day, he pops up with a wave and says hello.
There are so many possibilities for this! Patton and the new side might get along well, Roman might be okay with them, Remus would get a kick out of them, even Thomas might be open to getting to know them. But Janus, Logan and Virgil are wary. Maybe even scared.
Maybe this is the Dark Side that even Janus is afraid of.
And maybe they get called “paranoid.” “judgmental.” Other words. Maybe nobody trusts them and they get shunted to the sidelines. They’re unable to warn Thomas of the danger, and they can’t help but wonder...maybe he has changed? Maybe they are being paranoid? He really doesn’t seem too bad...
The only thing that makes Thomas a little worried? This side only goes by their name. They refuse to share what their job is. They crack jokes, smile widely, and seem childishly excited about everything, but there’s a glint of mischief in their eyes. And maybe it’s Virgil’s influence, but something just seems off about them. The more Thomas talks to them, the more nervous he feels.
Finally, someone says that they really need to go, that it’s been nice talking to this Side, but they have an issue to work out and they need to focus.
And the Side just smiles wider and says, “Oh, you’re not leaving.”
The entire room starts to shake, to glow. To do whatever Thomas has the budget for. The smile slides off Roman’s face, Patton’s, Thomas’s. Deceit and Virgil look terrified. Only Logan looks resigned. He knows exactly what’s happening.
“Who are you?” Thomas asks.
Logan’s Dark Side gives him a big smile. His eyes crinkle, but they’re empty of any sort of real happiness.
“Obsession.”
And that’s the name reveal. Not his true name. Not a display of honesty or forthrightness. Not a mark of how far a Side has come and how much they trust the others. This Side doesn’t need to worry about sharing their real name, because they have nothing to lose.
Their human, personal name isn’t the big reveal.
The reveal is that beneath the personable facade, they aren’t human at all.
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aster-aspera · 3 years
Text
One love, one house
CW: food mention, loads of fluff
Relationships: romantic DLAMP
Chapter title is from sweater weather by the neighbourhood
read on ao3
Masterlist for my superhero AU
Patton loved his roommate, he really did, but he was just a little eccentric. Patton could deal with the sneaking in at hellish hours in the early morning, and the mud he tracked into the appartement and the faint smell of antiseptic and blood that was always present in their bathroom.
He could even deal with his roommate occasionally forgetting his tasks or even disappearing for days on end.
But this was just unacceptable. Patton stood in front of a near empty fridge, only a refrigerated tupperware full of noodles and a jar of pickles left.
“Virgil?” He called.
His roommate looked up at him from under his messy bangs, dark circles that seemed to take up half of his face under his eyes. He really should stop sneaking out at night. Patton had hoped he would have gotten more sleep during the holidays, but it seemed his roommate was determined to work himself into an early grave.
“What have you been eating?” He asked, pointing to the fridge.
Virgil gaped at him for a moment as the question made its way into his sleep deprived brain.
“Uhm, noodles?” He said, sounding unsure of himself.
“Just noodles?”
“And pickles, I guess.”
“During the holiday season?”
“Yes?”
Patton sighed. Virgil just continued staring at him, seemingly unaware of why Patton was so upset.
“You did eat something other than noodles on Christmas, right?” He asked, his voice edging on desperation.
“I dunno, when was Christmas?”
Patton snapped.
“Nope, this is unacceptable. I don’t care if you celebrate or not, but you should at least eat something.”
“I ate.” Virgil grumbled.
“Noodles!” Patton interjected.
“And it’s not like I had a lot of time on my hands to cook an elaborate meal.”
“One, it’s not that hard to throw some vegetables into a wok and two, what are you even doing during the holidays, it’s not like we have classes.”
Virgil looked down.
“Studying.” He mumbled.
“More like studying , with the way you look.”
“I don’t look that bad.”
“You look like a corpse, a cute corpse, but still a corpse.”
Virgil flushed and Patton had to fight not to coo. He was just so cute.
“Whatever, are you free tonight?” He continued.
“Uhh, sure? I have something at 11 though.”
“That’s fine, I’m cooking you dinner tonight and we’re going to have a little holiday celebration.”
“Patton, I don’t really celebrate Christmas.”
“It’s not about Christmas. I just want to have a nice night with my friend and while I’m at it, I want to make sure you’re eating something for once.”
“Ok, fine. We’ll have a holiday celebration.” Virgil groaned, but he didn’t seem totally against the idea.
Patton cheered.
“Okay, I’m going to pop over to the store first. We’ll need ingredients.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to bother yourself too much.”
“Nonsense, I love cooking for others. Also, we’re all out of food except noodles, so I’d have to go shopping anyways.”
Virgil had the decency to look mildly guilty at that.
Virgil accompanied him to the store. Which, unlike Patton had expected, did not speed up the shopping process, but only slowed them down as they fooled around.
“Okay, okay. Let's get this done quickly, thyme is money.” Patton said, waggling his eyebrows at Virgil.
“What the hell am I doughing here.” Virgil groaned.
Patton gasped. “You made a pun!” He exclaimed.
“Yeah well, don’t expect too many of those. I wouldn’t want to oatverdo it.”
Patton gasped in delight.
“The s’more puns you make, the s’more i love you.” He proclaimed and Virgil blushed beet red.
Patton giggled as he looked at Virgil having fun. His roommate was usually a lot more reserved and morose. He had no idea what had happened that had put Virgil in such high spirits, but whatever it was, Patton was grateful. The smile that graced Virgil’s face was the most breathtaking thing he had seen all week.
Patton looked away, aware he had been staring just a little too long.
The meal was delicious, if he said so himself, and Virgil seemed to agree. He lounged back in his chair languidly, sleepy from the good food. He looked better than Patton had seen him all month. The colour had returned to his cheeks again and his eyes sparkled.
Patton silently congratulated himself on a job well done.
“That was great, Pat. Seriously.”
“I’m humbled by your compliments.”
Virgil smiled.
“Where did you even learn how to cook like this?”
“My moms taught me. They made sure to teach me all the basic survival skills like cooking, laundry and how to snare and skin rabbits.”
“Snare rabbits?” Virgil laughed.
“I lived in a forest, I had to be able to take care of myself. They taught me all kinds of other cool survival stuff too.”
“Nice, my mom barely taught me how to turn on a stove.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Virgil waved him away. “My parents just had other priorities in my upbringing. Maybe you could teach me to cook something other than pasta?”
“I’d love to.” Getting to cook and spend more time with Virgil? It sounded like heaven to Patton.
Virgil looked at the clock and suddenly shot up.
“Shit, I have to go. I’m sorry. Thanks for the food, Patton.”
“It’s fine. Anytime.” Patton watched him leave with an empty feeling in his stomach.
He didn’t mind his roommate’s odd habits, but sometimes he wished he didn’t always run off.
~
Patton had to be honest, when Virgil had first told him about his boyfriends, he had been quite shocked.
Not because of the boyfriends, plural. Patton was pretty sure he was polyamorous himself.
No, it was the fact that quiet, shy, reserved Virgil, the guy who Patton had never seen interact with anyone except Patton, had somehow gotten himself not one, but two boyfriends.
And yeah, maybe he did feel a sharp stab of jealousy when Virgil first told him. He wondered how his boyfriends had gotten him to realize they wanted to date him. Patton had been trying to make his feelings clear for months now and was almost convinced Virgil was aromantic.
They must have yelled something along the lines of “We have romantic feelings for you” to get through that thick skull of his.
Patton didn’t resent Virgil for dating them, he was happy for him. Virgil really needed something good in his life.
And now, here he was, cooking up an elaborate meal for Virgil’s boyfriends.
When Virgil had told him about his boyfriends and the fact that they had been going steady for a while, Patton had insisted they come over for dinner sometime.
“I have to make sure they’re not going to break my best friend’s heart.” He had argued.
Virgil had complained at that, but his boyfriends had agreed and a date had been fixed.
Patton had maybe gone a little overboard with the meal. Two curries stewed on the stove and he was just about to throw the homemade falafel into the pan. In the oven, naans he had made from scratch were baking.
He hoped they liked Indian.
Virgil let his boyfriends into the appartement and wow, they were hot.
One of them, the shorter of the two, beamed at him, his smile perfectly blinding, and walked over to him.
“Hello, you must be the charming Patton I’ve heard so much about.” He said with a theatrical bow.
The taller one walked over to them with a more reserved smile.
“I’m Logan and this character here is Roman. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Virgil has told us a lot about you.” He stuck out his hand.
“Really, he has?” Patton felt a warm glow at that knowledge.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you too.” He continued.
“So you’re the one who’s been keeping our Virgil alive?” Roman asked him.
“What?” Patton asked.
“V has a lot of skills, basic self care isn’t one of them.” Roman clarified.
“We’re happy he has such a good friend.” Logan added.
“Well, I’m happy to take care of him. But, yeah, self care isn’t one of his skills.”
“As much as I appreciate you guys bonding, I can take care of myself.” Virgil interjected.
“Debatable.” Logan said.
Roman seemed to have noticed the food bubbling on the stove by now.
“Ooh, indian.” He exclaimed.
“It smells good.” Logan complimented.
“Well, it’s nearly done, so get seated and I’ll bring the food over.”
“You guys are in for a treat. Pat’s the best cook I know.” Virgil informed them.
Patton blushed at the high praise.
“I must say I’m intrigued.” Logan said, while taking a seat at the table.
Patton turned off the stove and added a few leaves of coriander before carrying the dishes over to the table.
“Do you need a hand? It looks like a lot.” Roman offered.
Finally, with Roman’s help, the table was set and they all dug in, dipping their naans into the curries Patton had made.
Roman moaned theatrically.
“God, this is just heavenly.” He praised.
“It’s great Patton.” Virgil offered.
“Yes, it is quite splendid. What spices did you use?” Logan asked him.
“Well, this one has chilli powder...”
“I can taste that.” Virgil grumbled.
“Turmeric, cumin and coriander and the other one has bay leaves, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves and more chilli powder.”
“That’s a lot of spices.” Roman said.
“That’s the secret to Indian cooking, the things they can do with spices is just magical.” Patton replied.
They talked more.
Logan told him he was studying theoretical physics at the university where Virgil also studied.
“Wow, theoretical physics. Isn’t that like black holes and stuff?” Patton asked, intrigued.
“Oh boy, don’t get him started.” Virgil muttered.
Logan paid him no mind.
“That’s one aspect but it’s also so much more. It touches on all aspects of our lives.” With that Logan launched into an impassioned speech about all the things theoretical physics touched on and the different aspects of it.
Patton didn’t understand everything he was going on about, physics hadn’t been his best subject in school, but he enjoyed listening to Logan all the same. He had a way of speaking that drew you in. It was clear he really enjoyed the subject he was studying. Patton felt like he could listen to Logan for hours on end. A glance at the others told him they felt the same way, both of them staring at him with fond expressions.
“I apologise. I was rambling again, I have been told I have a tendency to do that.” Logan cut himself off.
“What? There’s nothing to apologize for, it was really fascinating.”
Logan smiled softly but didn’t go on. An awkward silence fell over the table.
“So!” Patton piped up brightly. “What do you do, Roman?”
“I’m studying to become a nurse actually.”
“Really? cool!”
They chatted about all kinds of things. Roman complained about the amount of things he had to learn. Logan told him it was nothing compared to what he had to study. Virgil lamented about annoying professors. And Patton listened, feeling a little like an intruder but a part of it all the same.
They complemented each other perfectly. Patton had no idea how they had met or what made them such a good team, but it must be something wonderful indeed.
In that moment, Patton wished so fervently he could be a part of it. He barely knew Logan and Roman and yet he could feel himself falling for them even now.
They didn’t seem to mind him being there, roping him into the conversation easily.
Logan smiled at him from across the table and Roman slung an arm over his shoulder, laughing at one of his puns.
Virgil was just getting up to refill the water jug, when an alert on his phone went off. All three of them jumped up.
“We have to leave.” Logan said, looking at his phone.
“Shit, I’m so sorry Patton.” Virgil repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time. It felt like whenever Patton was finally making progress in his relationship, something interrupted.
He didn’t mind the weird habits, he just wished he would let him in on his secrets. Hadn’t he proved his trustworthiness to Virgil?
They left him with the dishes and an empty feeling in his chest.
~
Roman, Virgil and Logan sat at the dinner table while Patton busied himself in the kitchen, finding comfort in the familiar routine of cooking. A tense silence filled the usually cozy apartment.
“How long have you known?” Logan asked finally.
Patton looked at Virgil when he answered.
“Probably since the first month.”
Virgil stammered. “I thought…”
“You thought what Virgil? That I didn’t notice you sneaking in at five in the morning? That I didn’t notice that whenever you ran off during dinner, Storm was suddenly on the news? That I didn't notice all the cuts and bruises you collected? You thought, what? That I was stupid? Blind? Deaf?” He knew he was being unfair, the others looked tired and miserable and guilty. But all his frustration at being left in the dark for years was bubbling over.
He was so tired of being treated as stupid, of being left behind when the others had to attend to hero bussiness. He was tired of lying awake worrying about them.
Patton returned to chopping the leeks with more force than absolutely necessary.
“We wanted to protect you.” Logan said, guilt colouring his voice.
“I don’t need your protection. I think you saw that tonight.”
“Yes, we were wrong. I realize that now. We apologize”
“I don’t.” Virgil said.
Patton stared at him. “What?”
Virgil stood up and faced him. “I’m sorry about lying to you, but I won’t apologize for trying to protect you. It’s bad enough these two are out on the streets, I don’t need another untrained civilian risking their life.” Virgil gestured at Roman and Logan, who didn’t look happy about being called untrained.
Patton laughed bitterly. “I’m not untrained, that much should be clear. And what makes you so trained then?”
Virgil sighed.
“When I said my parents had other priorities in my upbringing, I meant it. Instead of learning maths and chemistry, I learnt how to fight, how to take down a grown man, how to disappear into the shadows.”
“Why?” Patton asked, he was aware Virgil hadn’t had the most traditional upbringing, but this wasn’t what he had expected.
“I was to be an assassin, but the company we worked for disbanded and my mom decided to give me a normal life.” He explained coldy, it was clear there was more there, but Patton decided now was not the best time to ask.
They were all tired from the events of the evening and Patton really just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for another week. All his anger at his friends keeping him in the dark had faded, leaving him with just his exhaustion.
He turned back to the quiche he was making, with store bought dough, his mom would be shocked, and slid it into the oven.
“I’m just happy you guys are alright.” He said, extending an olive branch.
“Well, we were lucky our valiant knight in shining armour came to our rescue.” Roman said, his voice lacking his usual flamboyance.
Patton sat down next to Virgil and laid his head on his shoulder. Virgil wrapped his arm around him.
“You guys are lucky I knew where you were.”
“Yeah, how did you do that? Do you have us micro-chipped or something?” Roman questioned.
Patton just smiled mysteriously.
~
Patton popped his head into their bedroom, where Janus was talking into a phone. Patton listened for a moment as Janus talked to someone in rapid fire French, sounding mildly irritated.
He noticed Patton standing in the doorway and held up a hand signaling he would be done soon. He rolled his eyes and mouthed “Grandmother” at him.
Patton stifled a giggle. Janus’s grandmother was notoriously difficult.
“Oui, oui mémé, je promets.”
He put down the phone with a sigh.
“Why is she like this?” He sighed in exasperation.
Patton wrapped his arms around Janus’s waist and nuzzled into his neck.
“It’s ‘cause she loves you, honeybee.”
“Loves to annoy me, more like. Anyways, did you need something, mon cœur ?”
“Yeah, you said you’d help with dinner?”
“Course, give me a minute, I’m coming.”
“I’ll go peel the potatoes.” Patton bounced down the stairs.
On the couch, Logan and Roman were attempting to watch a period drama, keyword, attempting.
They were currently critiquing the costumes in the show, Roman in particular was raving about corsets on bare skin.
Patton smiled, he loved them both very much, but watching a movie or show with them was nearly impossible. They both had trouble keeping their thoughts to themselves.
“Having fun?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to Roman’s forehead.
“Corsets on bare skin, Patton! What is wrong with them?” Roman flung his hands up, nearly knocking Patton’s glasses off.
“Whoops, sorry.” He apologized.
Patton kissed him again and gave Logan a quick side hug.
“You guys enjoy, I’m going to get started on dinner.”
“I highly doubt I will be able to enjoy it, considering all the mistakes in the writing and costuming.” Logan muttered.
Janus joined him in making dinner and together they worked efficiently. Janus was a great cook and a good help in the kitchen. Together, they managed to make something good without getting in each others’ way too much.
Janus put on an old timey jazz song and as the food sizzled on the stove, they slowed gently in the kitchen.
The door opened and Virgil blew in with a gust of cold air. He groaned as he dropped his bag on the floor.
“Everything all right, mon amour?” Janus questioned.
“Just tired, training was hard today.” Virgil sighed.
“Yeah, I see. Go take a shower.” Janus wrinkled his nose.
Virgil made to kiss Janus but he warded him off.
“Go shower first.” He instructed.
“I want a kiss.” Virgil whined.
“I’ll give you a kiss.” Patton said.
“Don’t enable him.” Janus groaned but he pressed a quick kiss to Virgil’s nose.
Patton drew Virgil in for a soft, gentle one and then pushed him in the direction of the shower.
“Go. Food’s nearly done.”
Right on cue, Roman bounced into the kitchen, Logan trailing behind him.
“Food’s ready?” He asked.
“Not yet. Will you guys set the table?” Patton asked.
As busy clattering filled the kitchen, Patton felt a smile slip onto his lips. Janus noticed and wrapped his arms around him.
“What are you thinking about?” He whispered into his ear.
“Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
“Yeah, we really are.” He sighed.
They smiled as Virgil entered the kitchen and promptly got wrapped up in a hug from Roman.
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Survey #457
“blue are the words i say and what i think  /  blue are the feelings that live inside of me”
Do you buy your lingerie at Victoria’s Secret? No. That shit is so overpriced and not for my size group. Would you ever use an online dating service? I never would again. Are you good at multitasking? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Have you ever eaten Frosted Mini Wheats? Ugh, those are so gross. What does your bikini look like? You think THIS bitch wears a bikini??????????????????????? Does age really matter in a relationship? To an extent, yes. How much does the last person you kissed mean to you? I honestly don't even know if I'd be here without her. Almost like magic, Sara popped back into my life right after I returned home from the hospital following my suicide attempt. She helped make recovery possible as a solid source of support. Do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough. My skin is so dry; I need to. Do you believe in teenage love? I experienced it deeply and thoroughly, so yes. Have you ever sat on the roof of your house? No. Do you like Sublime? I like that one popular one of theirs. "Santaria" or whatever it's called? What’s your favorite movie genre? Paranormal horror, especially the "found footage" type. It's creepy to imagine it being actually real. Is there a celebrity that you’d be willing to have a one night stand with? If he was single? I know in my gut I would lmaooooo Do you want to live in your current town the rest of your life? OH MY GOD PLEASE NO If you found out today your best friend was gay what would you do? She's demisexual, so. She can like anybody. If you could get a pet for free today-what kind/what name? A tegu, because it wouldn't need an enclosure that I don't have. I'd let it free roam. God, I can only imagine Roman's reaction. How many people have you slept with? If you mean what I think you do by "slept," one. Do you ever wish you had a family business to become a part of? Not really. What’s the most gruesome way you could come up with to kill someone? Hunny, have you seen my dark RP????? The world best be glad I'm a pacifist lmfao Do you think anyone deserves to die that way? I don't believe in torture, so no. If you had to fight for survival, what would your weapon of choice be? A gun, I guess? I'd want something with range and that's quick. I wanted to say a bow and arrow, but preparing another arrow after shooting once could really cost you your life. Where did you buy your favorite pair of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore. Do you have a large dog? We don't have a dog, period. If not, are you afraid of them? No, I love big 'ole puppos!!!!! I just don't wanna own a dog myself. Are you good at playing darts? Holy fuck no, I have NO hand-eye coordination. I once stabbed the guy at a balloon popping booth thing with a dart in the arm, if that tells you anything, ooooooooooof. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? YESSSSSSSSS omg Do your parents know that/if you smoke? They know that I don’t. Have you ever been under a blacklight? Omg so in elementary school, we did this thing once where we all washed our hands as best we could and then put them under some sort of light (maybe a blacklight, idk???) to see JUST how resilient germs are. You gotta scrub the fuck out ya hands, people. How many pounds do you want to lose? I'd rather not share a number, but a lot. What’s your favorite natural phenomenon? The Northern Lights. Do you snore? Very surprisingly for someone with sleep apnea like mine, I actually don't. How many people do you know with the same first name as you? Off the very top of my head, one, but it's spelled differently. I KNOW I know of a shitload more Brittanys, though. Is it possible you could be pregnant? Well, I haven't been intimate with a man in years and just finished my period, so like- Could you go a day without texting? I go most days without texting. Do you have a step-parent? My dad is remarried, so yes. If so, do you get along with them? She's EXTREMELY Christian, so her beliefs wildly disagree with mine, but I keep my mouth shut a lot just to keep the peace. She IS a very sweet woman, nevertheless, and am glad she and my dad are so happy together. Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform? My last job (which lasted not even two hours lol) did. When will your driver’s license expire? My permit has been expired for like... two years. Do you live in an apartment? No. If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say? That's too wild a concept to even imagine. I'd probably ask if she was okay lmao. Would you ever get back with one of your exes? Weeeelp, I want to get back together with Girt. Pretty badly. Write a foreign word, and what it means: "Schadenfreude" is a German term that essentially means secondhand embarrassment, but it doesn't have a perfect translation. Is there an ex you think about everyday? Inevitably. That's PTSD, my friends. Who is the last person that you said I love you to, besides family members? Sara. What's the worst thing you have ever said to anyone? Something along the lines of "no one could ever love you like I do." It boils my blood just typing that; I considered even deleting this question. That quote right there is fucking manipulation, even IF I thoroughly believed it. Who was the last person to comment one of your pictures? I don't feel like looking. Do you tend to go for older or younger when looking for someone to date? It's weird, I'm into slightly older-than-me guys, but probably girls who are barely a bit younger than me. Have you ever been used? I don't think so. Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? Like I've said in plenty of surveys: Jason is probably a permanent fixture. But also as of the past two days, Girt's been living up there. I went from "hmmm I just don't know how I feel" to "FUCK I want to talk to him about how stupidly into him I am right this fucking INSTANT" pretty goddamn fast. It kinda scares me just because of how extreme my feelings are. Again. That's only ever gotten me hurt. Buuuut let's not get into that. Have you ever got caught cheating on a test? No, because I've never tried to. Will your next kiss be a mistake? I hope it won't be. But it's not like I know the future. Have you ever worn an oxygen mask? Actually yes, when I was young and thought I was having an asthma attack or something. Mom had one for her own asthma. Then I obviously wore one for surgery. What song do you want to be played at your funeral? "Paradise" by Coldplay is absolutely #1. How many swear words are in the song you’re listening to? I'm not listening to music; I'm back to watching Gab play Sekiro. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same sex, and if so, who? Yeah, just Sara. Who did you last tell to ‘shut up’? Ha, I think my WoW friend Lyndsey, but only playfully, of course. We pick fun at each other all the time. Would you ever get a tattoo of a boyfriend/girlfriend's name? NOOOOOOOOO. Are you one of those girls who already have baby names picked out? I know what I'd name my kids IF I actually wanted any, yeah, but I don't. Do you think guys with long hair are attractive? Yessss, I love long hair on guys. Are any of your siblings taller than you? I think Ashley is a liiiiil bit taller? I know my brother is, for sure. Have you ever scared someone so badly that they cried? Yikes, no. When was the last time you wore high heels? Boy oh boy, no idea. Is there someone that you want to hurt right now? Jeez, no thanks. What was the most interesting or colorful birthday cake you’ve had? I don't remember, but I'm sure something from childhood. What was the last thing someone bought you? Was it expensive? Mom bought me food from McD's, which obviously isn't expensive. Do you have any interesting moles anywhere you don’t want people to know of? No. Have you ever gotten high or drunk in a really formal place? Strong "no" there. Do you ever write poetry and post it on any certain websites? On the very rare occasion I write poetry and actually like it, I'll sometimes post it on dA. What do you miss most about your childhood? Actually, genuinely having fun and not dealing with fucking anhedonia. Would you like to know the precise date of your future death? Hell no. Do you photograph well? I'd like to hope so. Are there any animals you flat out refuse to touch? Maggots and similar bug larvae. What super power would you refuse, if it was offered to you, and why? Mind reading. It just sounds... awful and overwhelming. What’s your favorite discontinued product that you wish would come back? Oh, I KNOW I have answers to this, just none are coming to me immediately and I don't feel like sitting here for five minutes thinking about it. If adults had show and tell, what would you bring into work? My snek! :') If you had a reset button for the last 10 years, would you press it? Tempting, but... I don't think I would. I cannot go through how deep my depression was again. Who is someone you would never swear in front of? My nieces and nephew. Yes, I don't believe in profanity being a "thing" and is just a stupid human fabrication, but nevertheless I acknowledge societal standards and expectations, and they're way too young to get when you shouldn't say something like that and why. Have you ever won a contest or competition? A few. Who is your favorite TV character? I don't think I really have one? Do you coo over other people’s babies? Not really, no. Sometimes I'll think they're super cute and be like "awww," but I don't like... squeal and spaz like some people do. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? Steve Irwin got me deeper than anyone else. Chester Bennington hit real hard, too. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? Most of my closest ones, yes, at least via Facebook. What’s a movie that you want to see? Old movie, but Jacob's Ladder. It was a massive influence on Silent Hill, so naturally, I'll probably love it. It's a classic, anyway. Do you use the same username everywhere online or do you have a lot? I use "Ozzkat" in most places, but I do have some other ones for different sites. Who was the last person you know who became pregnant? My friend Ana recently revealed she's expecting her second child, a boy. What fad were you actually into? I have zero clue. Have you ever tailgated? Would you want to? Fuck no. That's how so many wrecks happen. My sister legit got in a wreck with an 18-wheeler mostly because she was tailgating (which she does BADLY); she was trying to pass, and he moved over at the same time because he couldn't see her coming around. It's a borderline miracle she got out with only some cuts, bruises, and a seatbelt burn. Have patience, people. Get off cars' asses. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? Look, don't get me started on this. There are a shitload of reasons and I have been way too emotional over this the past few days laksdfja;lwke What’s the last thing you had to eat? A bagel w/ cream cheese for breakfast. Do you ever pick up your house phone? We don't have a landline phone. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? Personalities, for sure. I cannot be into you if your personality isn't attractive.
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ms-demeanor · 4 years
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SOMEONE HAS ASKED ME FOR HELP TRANSLATING OLD ENGLISH (OE). WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT LANGUAGES AND I’M EXCITED.
I CAN’T TRANSLATE INTO OLD ENGLISH BUT I’M STILL EXCITED.
Okay, so, this was partially based on my recent, completely hilarious, translation of the first verse of Baby Got Back into Middle English.
I did that because I’m a complete slut for Middle English (ME). I am, in fact, such a slut for ME that I decided to make a free translation of the Canterbury Tales for people who were more advanced readers than most high-school level translations could help but who had trouble reading ME because its grammar is WEIRD and FUCKED. (I only got through the general prologue and six tales and my analytical asides are insufferable but good job baby Alli I’m so proud of you for wanting to make a free translation you little punk fucking shit up you; now fucking finish it you ADHD gremlin)
SO ANYWAY. Chaucer is Middle English. What you’re currently reading if you’re reading this blog post is Modern English (ModE). POP QUIZ!
What language did Shakespeare write in?
*Final Jeopardy countdown tune*
Wrong! (probably, statistically speaking, you were wrong about that. I’m sorry, I set you up)
Shakespeare wrote in Modern English! It’s Early Modern English, sure, but it is nonetheless the same language that you are reading and speaking and writing today.
BASICALLY
What I’m trying to say is that Lizzo (2019) has more linguistic overlap with Shakespeare (1616) than Shakespeare did with Chaucer (1400) in spite of the fact that Shakespeare and Chaucer were only about 200 years apart and Shakespeare and Lizzo are 400 years apart. That’s because Samuel Johnson was an Absolute Lad in 1755.
(THE PRINTED WORD IS FUCKIGN AMAZING; DICTIONARIES ARE THE SHIT)
Anyway when I was first on tumblr I made a VERY embarrassing mistake and insisted I knew something about OE grammar that I extremely did not (I think this had to do with possession confusion when writing about two people of the same gender and I jumped in with a very bad take) because being a slut for ME doesn’t mean you know shit about OE.
Because Old English is OLD. Like. Really Old.
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Like it probably came to England in around 450CE. OLD.
OE is basically Old German. (The development of Modern German is as weird or weirder as the development of Modern English and is no-shit heavily built on work of the Grimm Brothers. The Fairytale dudes.) But also kind of Old Scandinavian? And Frisian. Oh the Frisian. (English speakers: break your brain and listen to this video. Frisian is really closely related to ModE and spoken Frisian sounds infuriatingly close to comprehensible for most English speakers) and basically it’s a messy amalgam of the tribal languages of the various vikings who were continually taking the place over plus all the Brittonic languages plus Latin because of the Romans.
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Anyway part of what I’m getting at is that OE was kind of a giant mess (just like ModE!) and translating into OE is also a mess.
Also because OE wasn’t just one language, it was four major dialects and constant moving goalposts as various groups gained and lost power. England didn’t even have a single monarch until almost 200 years after Beowulf was (maybe, probably) written.
So 1066 a somewhat-French dude fought a war with the King of Norway and a bunch of English dudes and long story short that’s how Norman French (which is French with a heavy salting of Scandinavian languages and a soupcon of Celtic) started beating up Old English and eventually turned into ME. (In the General Prologue of the Canterbury tales Chaucer makes a joke that the Prioress’s French is more of Normandy than Paris which is a joke because she’s claiming to be educated in Fancy French but she’s really educated in the form of French that’s like hootin’ and hollerin’ down by the crick can I get a yeehaw).
The deal is that we’re now approximately 4000 permutations away from whatever resembled a lingua franca in England before the Norman Conquest. Our surviving stock of Old English manuscripts is minuscule. Tolkein probably wrote more words in the languages he constructed than exist in OE.
OE is dead. We’ve reconstructed it as best we can and have an okay idea of how the language worked but our understanding of the vocabulary is. A little weird. There are some extremely specific words that kind of just don’t translate to the modern world (“bag specifically for carrying stolen goods” is a decent example). There are some words for which the context is kind of fucked (so if you wanted to translate a proposal it’s hard to ask someone to be your wife if “wife” and “woman” are the same word and “wif” is added to a lot of words to make them apply to women (we retain this in “housewife,” but generally don’t use things like “fishwife” anymore))
But, say you want to learn and translate anyway, what do you do? You make friends with a bunch of nerds and we’ll share our hoarded dictionaries with you. Even the really old ones.
REALLY old.
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Actually I don’t have my 1820s Old English dictionary handy so have this one from 1916 instead.
Here’s a site that will translate ModE to OE or OE to ModE as you choose.
The University of Texas at Austen Linguistics Research Center has an online course for learning OE.
Here’s a whole-ass OE textbook.
Some nerds made a podcast about learning OE.
And here’s a very, very short look at the language if you’re thinking of looking into it more.
But if you don’t have time to study a whole new language and want to get something translated fast I recommend finding someone on their way to Kalamazoo and offering them twenty bucks because it’s a hard economy out there for Medieval Studies grad students.
Uh.
Anyway.
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Infuriating
Words: 2139 Relationship/s: romantic Intruality, brotherly Creativitwins, platonic Moceit, implied pining Roceit Warnings: Remus, mention of porn, swearing, the word Daddy, innuendos and sex jokes, kissing, implied making out, sympathetic sides, caplocks, weed mention Notes: This fic originated from an idea of my amazing friend @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream, which then prompted a friend of ours to make a drawing of it (I think, not quite sure, tho) and I thought it was so damn cute I had to write it. So, here we are! Only three weeks late! 
It was infuriating.
Remus was incredibly and unequivocally, infuriatingly annoying.
Not annoying in the manner that Roman would whine about after he got hit by a flying ninja star. It wasn’t about Remus’ violent tendencies.
It wasn’t even for his rather innovative ideas and proposals. Those only made Patton squeak in surprise, although he was trying his hardest not to show his surprise too much and hurt Remus’ feelings (it wasn’t his fault that the concept of Thomas becoming a porn star was difficult to shake out of his mind, especially since Remus had said looking straight into Patton’s eyes, without blinking).
Heck! Remus wasn’t even the problem!
At the contrary of what Deceit thought, especially after passing the entire morning cleaning, what was hopefully only blood, from the living room carpet.
Remus was infuriating because he was so oblivious he couldn’t seem take a hint.
It had been a couple of months since Patton had started trying to woo the other, an activity he started doing after a particular situation that had occurred.
It was a normal afternoon, or as normal as an afternoon in the mindscape could be. There was a soft light coming from the windows, illuminating everything with its warm glow.
Patton was sitting on the sofa, he couldn’t exactly remember what he was doing, he just remembered feeling particularly bored. Then, Remus had rose up.
He was dressed surprisingly casually, something both him and his twin despised being seen in. A green t-shirt that revealed his slightly freckled arms (when did Remus start having freckles?) and some booty shorts that had the word Daddy written in cursive.
He looked around, probably searching for something or someone, but, his gaze stopped once he saw Patton.
The smile that etched itself on his face shouldn’t have his cheeks heat up, it was a wild smile, dangerous even. However, Patton couldn’t seem to avert his eyes from the other.
Remus had then sat next to him, quietly. They remained in silence for a couple of seconds, but, it felt like eternity, his heart pounding in his chest, so loud he was afraid Remus could hear it, and a blush that was quickly spreading all over his face.
It took a couple of seconds before Remus finally turned towards him. However, this time his smile had been changed into a softer grin, eyes closed as he recited:
“Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what? My bed has room for two.” 
Patton didn’t know what had taken over him in that precise moment, but, he found himself giggling, a hand to cover his smile and cheeks burning even brighter under Remus’ astounded gaze. 
The look on the other’s face was a mask, he was pretty sure Remus was flabbergasted, however, he wasn’t quite sure since Remus sinked out as fast as he came. Leaving Patton on the couch, face warm and hands slightly trembling.
For a normal interaction that was pretty weird, but, for Remus it seemed pretty tame. Patton, though, couldn’t understand what had gotten a hold of him.
Then, it hit him.
Oh.
OH SH-
____
Patton exhaled in defeat, his gaze falling on a plate of tea biscuits in front of him.
“I just don’t get it. I’ve tried making him understand that I like him and he just wouldn’t understand! I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, so, maybe he’s just… avoiding talking about it?” His voice became more of a murmur the closer he got to the end of his speech, trying to ignore the burning sensation of tears in his eyes. He couldn’t cry, especially not in front of Deceit.
However, Deceit only hummed, taking a sip of his tea.
It was a usual answer from him when Patton started talking about feelings during their tea parties. Even if he felt particularly loquacious, at the mention of his feelings (in particular those towards a red clad Prince) he would clam up, and hurry to get away.
Nevertheless, today Patton wasn’t going to talk about Deceit’s rather adorable crush so the other was safe. Today was the day when he had decided he would stop trying to court (as Roman liked saying) Remus. 
“I think I… should stop trying. It’s pretty obvious that Re... he isn’t interested and if I continue I would just expose this stupid crush to the others.”
Deceit nodded absentmindedly, before setting down his cup and staring straight into Patton’s eyes, without blinking.
(What was with the Dark Sides and not blinking?)
“The crush isn’t stupid, you’re really stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“N-no, I mean, fuck-“
“Language!”
Deceit sighed slumping against his chair, before recollecting his thoughts and himself:
“I meant that you’re being stupid by stop flirting with Remus-“
Patton interrupted once again, getting on the defensive. “How did you know it’s Remus?!”
“-Because it’s written all over your face. Fuck whatever the other Sides think, the pressure from society or the group shouldn’t stop you, make it obvious you’re interested in him. Use his same language. Without offence, but, he’s particularly dense. You must be clear and /then you’ll see that it’s going to pay off.” 
As Deceit talked, getting more and more passionate, Patton quietly observing, a plan already semi forming in his mind.
“So, you’re telling me I need to…?”
“Make sex jokes? Be naked around him? Give him dead flowers? I don’t know and I don’t care how you’re going to flirt with him. I’m just resolving the situation so that Thomas won’t be too much of a mess. Just for Thomas.”
It was Patton’s time to hum, cheekily eyeing Deceit a he sipped his tea.
“Stop staring at me, Morality, the situation is already awkward as it is.”
“Oh sorry, I was just thinking about how good you are at knowing how Creativity has to be flirted with.”
Fair to say the statement was followed by Deceit choking on his beverage and trying to divert the situation to something else. It was pretty funny for Deceit, whose job was to preserve Thomas through lies and deception, to be so bad at lying.
____
The following days were followed by more and more by some awkward tension between Patton and Remus.
Despite what Deceit had told him, Patton did what he could to not let any of the Sides realise he had feeling for Remus. A tougher job than anticipated. 
And, also, much more awkward.
It was night, downstairs a Disney movie was still playing, Virgil, Roman and Logan fast asleep on the couch. Something Patton had managed to escape by groggily forcing himself to his room.
As he was walking down the corridor, though, he saw Remus still awake doing… well, whatever the hell he was doing. Patton wasn’t quite sure, besides it was too dark to tell.
In the haze of sleep Patton opened his mouth, without even realising, and said:
“Will you B mine, get it because b is the first letter of butthole?”
He didn’t stay to see his reaction as he had already ducked in his room and crashed on his soft bed.
Every time he managed to catch him alone, even as they crossed path down a corridor, Patton would try his hardest. It was awkward and made him feel quite uncomfortable at times, but, he wasn’t going to give up. ____
Remus had no fucking idea what was happening.
He felt as if he had taken a dip in the lake of confusion, where skulls and bones would pop up, their flesh corredate from the acid and the was a mist around him that took the shape of flying- he was confused. Which only helped in making him feel more stupid than on average.
Patton was acting different.
At first it had been entertaining, but, slowly he had realised that Patton was serious. Serious as someone could with those terrible… phrases.
It was as if Patton didn’t even know the meaning of innuendo! 
One particular day, he had been going up the stairs, Deceit having forbidden him to sink in and out after he had prodded him with the question of what exactly would happen if their body got stuck in the floor, and as he passed Patton he swore he heard the other say:
“Those booty shorts do fit your booty well!”
Remus froze, turning towards the others, mouth agape.
But, the other kept walking down the stairs as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t acting differently lately.
That had brought him to rush to his shared room, break the door after slamming it open and then turning to his brother and screaming in his face. Screaming had always been the best method to have anyone listen to him, either way.
And, in fact, Roman heard him. His eyes went wide as oranges and he confirmed his sword, pointing it at Remus’ neck.
“What?!”
“I broke Patton.” Was all that Remus said before sitting on his brother’s bed. It was a bit too clean and a bit too soft and a bit too red for his liking.
“What? And get off my bed, your trash will start migrating towards here!”
Remus simply sighed, ignoring as Roman started lightly jabbing his side with his sword and getting more comfortable on the bed.
“I broke sweet, angel Patton and now he’s acting all weird. He won’t stop complimenting my ass, which is a great ass mind you, but, it’s weird coming from him!”
“Yes, great ass. Hm-hm, get off my bed and stop- stop eating that banana peel!”
Remus did not stop eating the banana peel, staring at Roman dead in the eye as he did. 
“What are you doing here on my bed that you should not be sat on by you?”
“Told you,” Remus shrugged, finishing the banana peel, “Broke Patton.”
“Oh? So, now you’re whining that your crush is flirting with you as you were with him? Doesn’t seem to be a good reason as to why YOU’RE STILL ON MY FUCKING BED.”
He ignored Roman’s shouting, mulling the rest of what he had said.
“Wait, you’re telling me that hot top daddy Patton has been flirting with me?”
“No shit Sherlogan.” Roman seemed to stop, before opening his mouth again and asking:
“Do you think Sherlogan is a good nickname? The perfect combination between Sherlock and Logan: Sherlogan.”
Finally, Remus got up from the bed, stretching as he heard his brother’s bullshit.
“Let me be honest with you, it sucks.”
“Thanks, lanzador.”
“Did you just call me balls?”
____
Remus was perfectly and contently calm. 
He was fine, his hands weren’t shaking, his ears weren’t hot and bright red, and he absolutely wasn’t hating himself for not being able to come up with anything better than wilted flowers.
He had tried making something romantic, but, even with Roman’s help the red roses hadn’t stopped from wilting. At least, though, the spiked didn’t dig in your skin and the red of the flowers was as rich as blood.
Taking a final inhale, he looked in front on himself and knocked at the door.
The answer was close to immediate, however, when the door opened time felt as if it had stopped. Or slowed.
He saw Patton go through confusion before complete surprise, hazel eyes blown wide behind the glasses and Remus was positive he was about to fuck everything.
“Merry fuck! Here, have some weed!” 
Exclaimed Remus, trying not to hurt Patton as he threw him the flowers. /Roman was going to be so disappointed in him.
He was expecting Patton to recoil in horror, shout at him or insult him. However, the reaction was far from that:
“Oh! These are… wonderful!” 
Then, Patton had gotten on his tiptoes and had lightly pecked his cheek.
Remus was pretty sure that his heart had flew out of his mouth and into the sky.
“Do they need water or is it okay to press them?” Had then asked Patton, as if nothing had happened. As if Remus wasn’t currently a blushing mess, heart soaring and mind singing.
“I- uh- I- gay- uuuuuuuuuh-“ Was all that managed to come out of Remus’ mouth, together with a strangled sound that made beautiful Patton look at him worriedly.
“Are you oka-?”
Patton hadn’t had the time to finish the sentence as Remus’ mouth was now on his, warm and tasting of cinnamon.
It wasn’t a particularly long kiss, those would come after Patton had invited Remus in and the two would pass the rest of the afternoon on his bed, Remus in Patton’s lap, forgetting about the world.
But, for now, Patton stood in front of Remus, now just a couple inches away, breathing heavily, both of their hearts beating so loud they composed a song of their own.
“I think- would you like to come in?”
Remus grinned down, a knowing glint in his eyes.
“It would be my pleasure.”
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Soulmate Shenanigans Five: The Order Of The Shenanigans
Hey! Guess who has returned? 
Me!
Just the March doing her prompt writing thing, as seen on previous episodes :)
Parts one, two, three, and four here!
Prompt #5
Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience
Warnings for kidnapping mention and gifted kid “potential” mention
Okay. Not going to lie, I kind of tweaked the concept, but I like how it turned out. The idea of the sides having sides in human AUs has been in my brain, and now it’s in yours!
World Building
At first, the symptoms of having a soulmate was seen as symptoms of witchcraft
It was a reasonable assumption to make, as seeing into someone’s head and emotions wasn’t really a thing that humans did. 
However, as the population grew and communication across the globe became a thing, the instances of people finding their soulmates grew as well, and not everyone could be a witch (or, if they were, being a witch was simply being human).
It took a while for the culture around soulmates to shift, but shift it did, and people eventually figured out “Oh, that person is my soulmate, not my eternal enemy that I need to destroy via my demonic powers, which I totally have”
But people’s minds are kind of a lot, and it’s hard to process it all.
So, in modern day, people have learned to separate the pieces of their soulmate’s personality that they get bombarded with into different pieces, or sides
The sides are Logic, Morality/Emotions, Creativity (with there sometimes being a divide between dark and light), Self-Preservation, and Anxiety.
Characters
Roman: Roman is looking forward to meeting his soulmate so much!
Just...later.
When he’s a famous writer and people know about him and he’s evened out his insecurities and he deserves them!
Being perfect for them is going to take work, but most people meet their soulmates over 30, so he’s got at least fifteen years to prepare.
Until then, he was working on his fantasy story and dreaming of the day he’d get published or get the lead in a school play.
The writing club had been his idea, so you could say that everything that happens in the story was his fault. He’d just wanted to be around people who liked the same things he liked!
Roman’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:
Note: Names are hard. Aaaagh.
Magnus, his creativity, romance, passion, etcetera. Magnus is really the one who calls the shots around here. He’s just as goofy of a fifteen year old (if not more) as Roman, but he has the unenviable position of running a mind palace and being the ego of someone who hates himself.
This guy just wants to listen to Hamilton, but noooo, he had to have an evil reflection of himself and self-worth issues.
The Count, his self-preservation and pretty much Roman’s inner Roxie Hart/Velma Kelly. Randomly suggests poisoning their mortal enemies a lot (note: they don’t have mortal enemies). 
The most like canon Janus out of any of the self preservations, except instead of “we live in a society” it’s more “fuck it, we’re going to be *famous*!”
The other sides will pay him to stop saying, “that’s showbiz”
The Medic, his morality and emotions. Sort of has a medieval healer thing going on (which means herbs in a satchel, not plague doctor mask).
A lovely person on his own, but when he and The Guard team up, it’s ✨Guilt time!✨
He has the question of “Am I a terrible person?” on his hands, so...good luck to him. He’s trying to hold the five of them into a cohesive unit, but it’s hard!
The Guard, his fears and anxious thoughts. He has a shield and a spear, and is kind of dressed like a (dark and stormy) knight.
No one particularly likes him, but it’s his job to recognize The Shadow, so they all need him.
He hangs around on the outskirts of the mindscape, ever vigilant.
The Alchemist, his logic. No one listens to the voice of reason in this house. Al isn’t really a fan of this, and being Roman’s logic, he thinks that if he can find a way to prove himself it’ll turn out okay.
The Shadow, everything Magnus discarded. You could call him dark creativity, but he’s a lot more. 
They used to call him Rex, when they were kids.
Patton: Patton isn’t thrilled with having to move to a new school, but he’s keeping a positive attitude
The new town is creepy and making friends is harder than he thought, and he just wants to right a sappy love story about ghosts without feeling sad.
But if he keeps his chin up, he knows it’ll all be fine!
And hey, maybe he’ll find people who like him in this writing club thing!
Patton’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 
Patrick, his morality and emotions. Patrick feels all of the loneliness and desperation that Patton feels daily, but pretends he doesn’t feel it, since he has to be there for them!
Them meaning his family, meaning the rest of Patton’s mind, as well as Patton, since he’s kind of an older brother/role model to the guy.
Covering the full scope of human emotions isn’t great when the other half of your job is enforcing the sense of right and wrong (and the general consensus in Patton’s head is showing negative emotions = burden = wrong).
None of them can cook, but that won’t stop him from trying!
The Canary, his fears and anxious thoughts. Constantly popping up to remind everyone that they’re failing. It’s kind of his job.
Stress plays the piano when things get to be too much.
The Gardener, his creativity, romance, and passion. Conjures flowers a lot. Projects wishes for a soulmate into the sappy ghost love story, which he’s mostly in charge of writing.
Hasn’t split yet, but that’s mostly because nearly all of Patton’s negative impulses that would be considered “dark creativity” already come from The Miser.
Dr. Picani, his logical side. Knows everything about cartoons, and tries to be professional, but a complete sweetheart.
Secretly knows his name is Emile, but is waiting for the best moment to tell everyone.
The Miser, his self-preservation and deceitful side. No one’s a fan of him. Patrick is kind of his mortal nemesis (in the sense that Patrick claimed the title and he just kind of went along with it?)
Everyone else in the Pattonsphere refuses to curse, but he says many a “fuck” with ease
Trying to protect The Gardener from splitting by taking responsibility for most of the things a dark creativity would do.
Virgil: Virgil just didn’t want to join the yearbook committee. 
It was irrational, maybe, to have a deep rooted hatred of the yearbook committee. 
They were just trying to categorize things, design pages-it wasn’t malicious! 
And yet, being in that classroom and seeing Amelia’s dead eyes and smile near rang every alarm bell in his system, so he needed a way out this year.
His parents weren’t going to let him not choose an activity, so he flipped a coin and ended up in some writing club.
He came into the club determined to fake some pretentious poetry about death. Just because they say the club’s about expression or whatever doesn’t mean that they can know anything about his comics.
Virgil’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 
Dante, his fears and anxious thoughts. Dante has too many eyes. Dante is lowkey a cryptid, but he’s sadly a cryptid in charge of life decisions.
There’s no way to dance around it. Dante’s a spider-human hybrid.
Dante would prefer they never be perceived by anyone for anything. He does not want to be seen, he does not want to be heard, he does not want to be perceived. Period. 
But he’s a very conspicuous spider-human hybrid. 
The Competent One, The One Who Can Actually Do Math, Steve, whatever you want to call him, he’s Virgil’s logical side.
His theories are just....
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See that image? That kind of sums up his characterization.
Parker, his creativity, romance, and heroic side. He’s the one who got them obsessed with comic books, and is trying to write his own. If people don’t like the comics, he’ll probably just start screaming and never stop
He gets the purple eyeshadow!
Remy, his self-preservation. He mainly just wants Virgil to just...rest
Nap. Sleep. Take a self-care day. This is Remy’s goal.
Also to continue to have the most style out of anyone in the Virgilsphere
Remy has a talent for never being anywhere at the right time, and then popping up at the worst moments, caffeine in hand.
Tam, his morality and emotions. The most into the emo phase out of any of them, since he feels all angst!
Sometimes just hovers and screams. Everyone’s pretty used to this.
Logan: Logan was trying to ignore the things he’d seen
Logan was a scientific guy. He knew that magic wasn’t real, that the fae were just stories.
So, clearly, the nightmarish things he’d seen that night were just that: nightmares. Just nightmares caused by stress over his academic struggles.
That was the immediate problem at hand: academic struggles. Logan was always the top of his class his whole life, and words like “gifted” were thrown around. Lately, however, things have been harder to keep up with and pay attention to, and it’s a bit of a mess.
Logan joined the writing club because he thought it might help him with English class, and he did like speculative fiction.
But, more importantly, he joined it because he thought it would be a simple task he could easily ace, so he wouldn’t have to keep being told that he wasn’t trying.
Logan’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:
Mimir, his logical side. Mimir is pushing himself to take care of all academic matters and keep Logan afloat.
Mimir is over his head, but doesn’t really have anyone to talk to (or so he thinks), so he’s just putting Warby Parkers over his panic and faking cold distance to make everyone think he’s doing okay.
Alastor, his moral side. Half of his job is repressing Logan’s emotions, which isn’t a great thing to be doing, but he think he’s doing it for a good reason.
Kinda strict and blaming Mimir for everything going wrong. He does care about the others, he’s just bad at showing it.
Cassandros, his fears and anxious thoughts. 
This dude-
He’s basically just [puts feet on coffee table] “Hey, did you know everyone hates us?? I made a PowerPoint that proves it!”
He’ll get character development, though.
The Chessmaster, his overdramatic self-preservation.
Tries to be clever, walks into walls.
The Detective, his creative and fanciful side. He wants to swashbuckle, but instead he’s restrained to geometry. 
But now he has a project in the writing club! He has something to do!
And The Mad Scientist is trying to ruin it!
The Mad Scientist, Logan’s dark creativity.
They never used to care about the creative side one way or another. There was no need to make a dark side when it was already looked down upon.
Now, however, there are things in Logan’s mind that he’s trying not to think about, and so the Mad Scientist has joined the fray.
The Actual Plot
This is going to be an actual fic that I write. So, I’m not going to fill out the entire plot here.
I can, however say a few of the plot lines
Plot One: Everyone’s sides are in a state of constant screaming and must learn to communicate.
They also need to let their main guys figure out they have soulmates, because they’re all repressing that information for their own reasons.
Plot Two: LAMP in a writing club, falling in love and being disturbed by first drafts!
Plot Three: The fae are kidnapping people.
And everyone needs to get them to Stop.
I guess you could call this a trailer??
I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA
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I’d Like to Stand By Him
Ao3,  MasterPost
Relationships: Prinxiety!
Wow low-key a fanfic right-of-passage, I’m finally writing prinxiety! I do love it, it’s popular for a reason! Also I should probably do a masterpost  but, we’ll cross that bridge soon enough,, this is based on the side tracks! I know that this has deffo been done before but I wanted to,,,, so yeah!
Warnings: cursing, mild hurt/comfort, fluffffffff.
Word count: 1,572
No one man could listen to this much indie pop on a daily basis; not without hurling, anyway. Virgil stared up at Roman’s velvet-colored ceiling with narrowed eyes as the final, agonizingly slow song on the playlist faded to silence, a tattered sketchbook laying forgotten on his chest. He took his headphones off and exited Spotify. 
“Well?” 
He sat up abruptly at Roman’s much-too-close voice. Virgil looked over to see his friend beaming, twirling his ornately-cased phone between his hands. 
“Meh,” Anxiety pushed the other trait out of his bubble. Roman scoffed and placed a hand on his chest. 
“Don’t ‘meh’ my favorite songs, you pop-punk party-pooper!” 
“My playlist was more punk rock, but okay.”
“Whatever, those subgenres all sound the same anyway.”
Virgil very carefully placed his sketchbook on the ground and then very not-carefully shoved Roman’s shoulder. Roman gasped dramatically and shoved back. They met eyes with a glare, which they held for about 30 seconds before cracking up together. Their laughs were wildly dissimilar: a low chuckle against what should really be called a shriek. 
Virgil let out a final amused huff and flopped back onto the bed. He nudged Roman with his shoe.
“Seriously, though. That was an excessive amount of sappy love songs.”
“You’re one to talk, Sally’s Song.”
“Oh please, Amy Lee and Tim Burton? Love song or not, it rocks.”
Roman hummed in agreement and fell back beside Virgil. There was a contemplative sort of quietness from the artistic side. Virgil turned his head to stare at him expectantly.
“I’ve never seen you think so hard in your life, Princey.”
Roman  huffed and flipped onto his side. 
“What’s it to you?”
He shrugged, a rather awkward motion in his current position.
“Just seemed like there was something on your mind, man. You can keep being all brooding and quiet if you want, but I should probably remind you that that’s my job.”
“It’s nothing, really, I was just... wondering.”
Virgil shifted to his side to look at Roman properly (and also to relieve the awful cramp developing at the base of his neck). He waited politely for the creative trait to continue, poking him in the shoulder when he didn’t.
“Wondering what, dude?”
“Do you think about anyone in particular when you listen to love songs?”
Dread crawled up Virgil’s spine.
“Do you?”
“Maybe.”
Oh, God. So that was what this was about. Virgil hadn’t deluded himself into thinking that Roman had feelings for him, but that didn’t mean he was ready to hear the side gush about who he did love. It stung, especially considering the times when Anxiety would look over at his friend, the two of them sitting in silence just to spend time together, and Roman would be looking back with cloudy eyes and a smile and he thought maybe- maybe. 
Maybe what? Clearly, it was nothing. It had never been anything.
Much as he didn’t want to hear about it, a grim, curious little part of Virgil still wanted to know who all that mediocre music was dedicated to. 
“Wow, Ro, now you’re shy? I know you; if you’ve got a thing for somebody, then it’s taking every ounce of your self-control not to literally sing a ballad about them right now.”
Roman flushed, breaking eye-contact with a chuckle. Virgil despised the part of him that wanted to kiss that stupid adorable look off his face. Ugh. 
“I’ll tell you,” Creativity murmured after a pause, “if you tell me who your songs are about.”
Virgil rolled his eyes so hard that they should’ve fallen out of his head. 
“First off- I never said that my music was about anyone. Secondly- are you serious?”
“We don’t have to, I just thought it could be fun.”
Wait, no, now he had to know who it was! Backtrack!
“Fine, whatever, I’ll tell you,” hah, as if, he was gonna lie through his teeth (and hopefully Janus would have the sense to mind his business and not check in). He’d get Roman’s sincere answer, and naturally he’d say something completely ridiculous to fuck with him, and then they’d laugh about his crush together. It might be enough to dull the ache that settled beneath his ribs.
Roman grinned- warm, bright, beaming- and sat up, clapping his hands together.
“I knew it! You are a big sap!” 
Virgil pulled himself up to sit across from the fanciful side with an exasperated groan.
“Yeah, right. So, on three?” 
Roman blinked in surprise and reddened a bit more. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter (ha). He looked nervous, of all things. 
“Right. Three,” he took a deep breath and settled his hands in his lap, “Two,” he met Virgil’s forced smirk with a soft smile, “One.”
They shouted in unison, Roman and Virgil respectively: “You!” “Your brother!”
The laugh died in Anxiety’s throat before it had even had the chance to form, his eyes widening. He looked up abruptly- obviously they’d both had the same idea to trick the other into an embarrassing admission. It was a joke, it had to be.
It wasn’t, Virgil’s heart only sinking as he saw the genuine shock and pain in Roman’s expression.
“Oh.”
“Wait- you- really?!” 
Rather than answering, Creativity looked even more mortified and made to stand.
“Forget I said anything. I- I should just go. Good luck with Remus.”
Virgil caught his wrist.
“Okay,” he took a deep breath and tried to quell the absolute screaming that had overtaken his mind, “Okay. First off, this is your room, dude,” that was an easy start; stating the obvious. “Secondly, I don’t have a crush on your brother, it was just- it was a dumb joke. Third...” Alright, the hard part. At least Roman was listening now, looking a little less absolutely devastated. A little.
“Fuck, man, I- I really thought you were gonna say ‘Patton’, or something. I had no idea you, uh,” Virgil growled in frustration, “I thought you’d say somebody else, and when I said that, it would be so ridiculous and we would’ve laughed and I’d mess with you about your crush, but-”
“I’m sorry!” Roman howled, “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have said anything, okay?”
“No, that’s not what I meant! Look, it’s- I really like you, and-”
“Virgil, stop, you don’t have to do that. Just forget it, please.”
Fuck, how was he so bad at this? He couldn’t stand the thought of Roman believing that he didn’t love him back for another second, but he didn’t know what the hell to say to make him listen. Another noise of frustration rumbled low in his throat as he tried to fix this. Then it hit him, just how god-awful Roman was at listening; so he wouldn’t say anything. Not with words, anyway.
Virgil grabbed the sides of Roman’s face and pulled him abruptly forward, knocking their noses together before tilting his head and actually, finally kissing him. The creative side made a muffled exclamation at the clunky gesture of affection. It was barely a second before Virgil let him go and scooted back, both of their faces flaming red.  
Anxiety’s eyes flicked across the room, occasionally hazarding a glance at Roman to gauge his reaction. After determining he’d stunned the other into silence, he managed to speak.
“It was about you.”
“What?” 
“The song.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten about that.”
Virgil snorted. He looked up to find Roman watching him carefully, and smothered his laugh. There was a beat.
“You... Really?” Roman murmured. Anxiety scooched closer and bumped their shoulders together.
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t mean it. You know that.”
Suddenly, Roman’s expression was consumed by a wide smile, and that was just not fair. Virgil couldn’t help smiling back (albeit without showing all of his damn teeth like a cartoon character). 
The romantic trait hadn’t recovered from the initial hurt entirely, his motions stilted as he took Virgil’s hand in both of his, but the touch was no less reverent for it. His eyes shone with relief and affection and a million other things that were honestly a little overwhelming, but Virgil didn’t particularly mind right then. 
“What’cha staring at, Ro?” he hoped the teasing tone made up for the fact that he not-so-subtly slid his unoccupied hand up to rest on Roman’s hip. 
“Nothing, Virge.”
And they met each other in the middle, so much more delicate and sweet and slow than before. Roman released Virgil’s hand to hold his waist and press closer. Virgil hummed against his lips. There was nothing to prove this time; no hurry. Just them, and the mutual affection that had waited far too long to surface.
Wow, Virgil really had gone soft. 
They pulled apart slowly, all quiet laughs and caring looks. It was at that moment Virgil realized that, due to his unwillingness to let himself fantasize about this beforehand, he had absolutely no fuckin’ clue what to do next. He pushed his hair out of his face and made a little distance between them.
“Uh- so- do you wanna, like- is this a thing now?” he cringed internally because holy fuck how was he so bad at this. 
Roman just chuckled, his former distress now completely erased. 
“You tell me, Emo.”
“I- yeah, we can- yeah.” 
He laughed again, and Anxiety groaned in embarrassment.
“Shut up, Princey.”
Roman shoved him. He shoved back. Business as usual- well, almost, anyway. 
@shrimp-crockpot
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hecohansen31 · 4 years
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Sharing Is Caring:
Boxer! Ivar The Boneless+Reader+Boxer! Roman Godfrey.
(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!
Still not in the best headset, but since I don’t like leaving my projects to die, in my Word, here it is a little thing I manage to “finish” for @walkxthexmoon, who introduced me to this OT3, plus those two, plus boxing and my ovaries are on the ground begging for mercy... don’t mind me...
I am rather sorry I wasn’t able to write smut, I swear I honestly tried, but also... I just haven’t felt up to smut till this morning and I think that this fit better without it, so that your imagination can do a better job than my writing (and if you have any request, REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN... I am just very slow at catching up and write fanfic in the middle...).
So that was all and I hope you’ll enjoy this.
WARNINGS: Mention of Sex, Threesome, Jealousy, Poly-Relationship, Jealousy and Envy, Mentions of Substance Abuse and Blood.
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Ivar couldn’t help but have a problem with her.
With “her” being his best friend’s girlfriend.
He couldn’t help but have this kind of awkwardness around her.
At first, he had thought it was because he was used to it being only him and Roman, the golden bachelors of boxing, with them always supporting each other through their ups and down.
It was an understatement that he had been less than thrilled to meet the ‘special lady’ Roman had been lusting after since a month.
But she had been truly angelical, and never ever had tried to break apart them, giving to them their own time and their own thoughts, never interfering with their nights-out and being gentle and calm towards him.
On his part he had been quite grumpy with her, mostly due to that uneasiness that he felt whenever she was around.
Mostly in some kind of undressed state.
Such as the one time he had come to wake up Roman early for practice, just to be welcomed by her on the threshold, wearing Roman’s sweatshirt, a bit too big for her and slightly short…
… enough that as she had raised to kiss Roman’s cheeks as a “goodbye” he had caught the elastic of her lacey panties, a cerulean blue that he had dreamed after his workout, coming onto his hand, in the shower.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he got it bad for his best friend’s girlfriend.
But there was no way that she would be even slightly interested into him, not to talk about the fact that Ivar was Roman’s dearest friend and he shouldn’t have even thought about her like that.
That time after he had gotten himself off, he had just felt dirty and hadn’t been able to look either her or Roman in the face for a week.
He had tried avoiding her, but Roman had asked worried, if maybe… he just didn’t like you:
“I mean… she is perfect man, but if you…”.
“No no, Roman, you look great together” he had tried to stop the question, but sometimes Roman would just irk him badly and he would need a cold shower, since the exhibitionist that Roman had always been didn’t save him any details about his fiery nights with her.
One night, he had dreamed about him doing those things with her.
But it had all stopped when he had realized that, in the dream, his legs were working.
And he had been horrified by it enough that he had spent the first sleepless night of many.
He respected Roman with all his heart.
He had been one of the first to believe in Ivar, even with his legs, getting him not only to start his own try-outs, but also continuously supporting him through the entire journey to fame, no matter the fact that he had himself quite some problems, mostly with substance abuse.
That is another reason why she was perfect for him: Ivar hadn’t seen him shoving anything up his nose, since they had started going out and he appreciated her for that.
“Sometimes I wonder whether I am just another pretty thing on his arm” she had mumbled once, after Roman had won the umpteenth match, they had been watching from the stands, just for a flock of girls in scant-clad costumes running up to him, with thrilling screams and promises.
Ivar had seen her truly scared as if she didn’t understand that Roman was the one lucky being with an angel like her.
He would have cherished her enough that she wouldn’t have ever wondered whether she was the only one or not.
But he had just muttered that Roman would never cheat: yeah, he might have a wandering eye, but he would never disrespect her like that.
“Uhm” she had mumbled, not convinced, before coming close to him, closer than he felt comfortable with, since he could totally smell the pretty perfume she had worn, although it would be soon covered by smelly fried food and sweat, something flowery but discreet, with a deeper accent to it “… sometimes I am jealous of you… you know him so well… and sometimes… I can never guess what is going on in that pretty head”.
Ivar had just blushed and shrugged off, before he had moved to the locker rooms to talk with Roman.
“Shit… I am pretty lucky to have her, am I not?” had asked, there, Roman, meanwhile he unlaced his bandages from his hands, confronting with Ivar his technique, since he was the only one, he truly trusted.
“Yeah, you better not forget it” he had mumbled, almost not even thinking about his words, which had taken Roman quite by surprise, and he had immediately shot him a confused look, with his sharp eyes.
“What do you mean?” he had shot back, stretching his fingers and his legs, quickly before slumping up, meanwhile Ivar settled himself onto his crutches, almost wanting to escape this conversation, although he knew it was impossible.
“She doesn’t feel very cherished… with you fawning over those girls, instead of coming to her, once the match is over” he had replied, knowing that he could have simply said nothing, and he would have seen his friend maybe lost his pretty girl.
Then he might have had a chance.
But he knew better than to try out this, since he knew perfectly that it would have destroyed Roman.
He couldn’t do it to his best friend. Just for a girl.
“You mean I need to do the entire “Adriana” thing” had joked Roman, before strutting off the locker room, waiting for him to catch up “I’ll keep it in mind, my dear friend”.
And he had.
For the entire house party, on Halloween he had followed Ivar’s suggestion, remaining attached to his girlfriend, even for the silliest of things: Rocky and Adriana indeed, with her looking like a true angel, even in that awkward and last minute costume, meanwhile Roman comfortably stayed shirtless, joking about both Rocky and him being great boxers.
It was low key awkward for him to be standing between them, but things soon got even stranger, when she leaned onto him, moving softly closer to him to whisper something stupid in his ear, which he didn’t quite grasp, suddenly concerned with the nearness of her hand to the bulge in his pants, spurred by her action.
“… Ivar are you listening to me?” she asked, when she saw his unfocused gaze, and he simply shook his head.
“Sorry the music is just too loud” he justified, before moving away, with the suggestion that he could get them some drinks, which was welcomed by Roman, with full thumbs up, but he used the occasion to get away from them just to breath properly.
Accidental touches like that weren’t something he was unused, but other people avoided him like he had the plague, thinking that whatever he had on his legs might spread to them.
So, he couldn’t help but be a bit shaken by the way she had moved onto him, giving him a good show of her cleavage, although he was sure it was totally accidental.
He truly didn’t understand how could such a girl would go for him, when she could have had someone like Roman.
His friend was one of the best boxers of the year, training and getting his life back from the tunnel of serious drugs he had started his career with; he had been the one sponsoring Ivar’s training, since nobody in his family wanted to support what they had called “his decision to kill himself”, alongside the fact that coaches wouldn’t even try anything with him.
He was too broken for anyone.
Except Roman.
So, he honestly needed to cool himself down, before he stood up to face them, again.
When he came back, she was alone and he made himself a mental note to tell Roman that he shouldn’t leave such precious girls all alone, mostly with him as a big bad wolf, wanting desperately to taster her.
She seemed totally ok, comfortable with him, meanwhile she explained that Roman was on a smoke break.
“Can I ask you something silly, Ivar?” he was low key busy trying to understand whether it would have been considered rude for him to join Roman, leaving her there, or if he could stand next to her, without popping a boner.
There was no chance he could when she smiled like that and blushed so divinely.
“Go ahead” he tried not to seem too affected by it all, meanwhile he played around with his costume, a simple “this is my Halloween costume” sweatshirt, since he honestly couldn’t be bothered by these commercial things.
(He low key had thought about going to the party, in his Viking costume, but he hadn’t wanted for anybody to ask him who the hell he was, alongside somebody spilling his beer onto it).
“Do you not like me?” her shyness could be heard in the softness of his voice, meanwhile she played around with her hair.
He was honestly taken aback by this, but he could seen where this was coming from, although he was sure that Roman had probably just told her that he was simply grumpy.
She took his silence as a confirmation of her thoughts, but this didn’t stop her from moving closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his.
“… you just never seem happy to be around me, and I thought that at first it was simply missing your best-friend, but nothing seems to work”.
How could he tell her that honestly was attracted by her, but had this grumpy persona to keep himself from ruining his friendship with his best-friend?
“It’s nothing personal…” he started, trying to avoid facing her, but she somehow found a way to face him and make him face her: she was pretty headstrong, and Ivar could see why Roman liked her so much.
And why he, himself, did too.
“Then, please tell me, because I don’t want to put some dent in your relationship”.
‘Then please just go around with a bag of paper on your head’ he would have gladly mumbled, but he just couldn’t and before he could do anything, she was damnably close to him and he felt her perfume all over him: she had changed it, to something darker, much more dense, although it was still extremely feminine.
It had remained tangled in her hair and he could see the power of it shifting as she played with them, to keep her mind off, and waiting for an answer.
But he was too focused on her lips: she had worn some kind of red lipstick, which had been roughly smeared by Roman’s kisses and the few drinks she had taken, letting Roman finish them for her, in a disheveled detail that drove Ivar wild.
And crazy enough that with no knowledge of the entire thing he pushed himself to finally kiss those smeared lips, pushing himself onto her with such a strength that he felt her tighten under his hold, before she gently relaxed, somehow her lips becoming warm as if they were accepting his, as they gently delved to return the kiss.
And in that moment Ivar realized that he had fucked up.
For Odin’s sake he was kissing his best friend’s girlfriend!
He pushed himself away, meanwhile she gently looked at him, surprised as if she hadn’t expected it.
Which was probably the reality of the things, since Ivar had kept up this entire “I don’t like you” persona with her.
“So, this is what happens when I go out for a smoke break?” Roman’s voice caught him by surprise, and he felt her tremble against him, since they were close enough, and he pushed himself even closer as if to shield her from Roman.
He wouldn’t be certainly violent towards her, but he wanted to avoid his drunken state making him do something that he might regret.
And in the end, it was all Ivar’s fault.
But as he turned around, he found that his friend wasn’t in the slightest annoyed but instead was smirking, hiding it barely behind a glass of whiskey, he had probably picked up from his smoke break.
“Honestly I was hoping this might happen, sooner…” he mumbled, as he set himself down on the little sofa in front of them, setting his glass down”… it was kind of annoying to see you dance around each other… so painfully awkward”.
“You knew about my crush?” asked Ivar, suddenly realizing that it was true: Roman had known about it all “You knew about my fucking crush and let me fucking continue on this road, you fucked up son of a bitch”.
In the meanwhile, she raised up, looking at both the guys, before throwing a pillow in Roman’s face, who quickly caught it.
“You lead us onto this” realization shook also her face.
“Oh c’mon, you couldn’t expect me not to do anything, after you confessed me that you thought that Ivar was fucking hot in that match in Chicago”.
Her face turned flushed red and Ivar’s mind went back to that match: he had gone down a few times, eventually coming on top of the entire match, with his nose broken and his lips swollen, and he was barely able to stand enough to be called the winner.
He remembered that since it was summer she had worn a pretty sundress, with sunflowers on it, and it somehow had highlighted the type of innocent beauty she owned, and to think that she had lusted for him almost as much he had lusted for her…
… well it was a strong aphrodisiac.
Meanwhile they were both bashing in embarrassment, Roman finished his glass of whiskey, settling it down with enough force that the noise startled them both.
“Now that you know, don’t you want to act out on those fantasies?” he almost seemed the snake that had tempted Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, his own tongue coming up from between his lips, licking them.
“What would you gain from it?” asked Ivar at the same time she mumbled.
“Are you trying to prostitute me to your best friend?”.
Roman shook his head laughing, before he sent a look at Ivar.
“I know that little Ivar here is a bit shy on these things, alongside the fact that he is quite the loyal dog so he is too scared to even go and try anything with you, but I can see that he fucking wants it, and I know that he won’t control enough for longer…” and then his face grew softer, facing her and holding an hand out for her “… I don’t mind sharing, if you don’t, too”.
The choice was in her hands, and Ivar felt like it was already going to be a “no”.
Yeah, she might have returned the kiss, but he was pretty sure that she would be too ashamed to event try anything with him.
She wouldn’t be the first and she wouldn’t be the last to think that
“… you won’t get pissed at me, will you?” she asked, shyly.
Roman shook his head slowly, although Ivar was thinking that he was simply lying.
Roman was pretty territorial with his things and his people, but…
… no sign of annoyance was found in his pretty eyes.
And she gently turned toward Ivar, offering her hands to help him up, which he automatically took, steadying himself, meanwhile he raised from the sofa, and Roman quickly exited from his pockets his car keys.
He was definitely in for a thrill.
When they all arrived at Roman’s apartment, Ivar couldn’t help but feel extremely nervous mostly because he felt like Roman might realize that this was just a HUUUGEE mistake and she might do the same.
But as soon as they were behind closed door, she returned the soft kiss he had laid onto her lips, at the party, with definitely much more passion than what he had expected, gently pushing him against the door, meanwhile Roman chuckled, throwing the keys of his house aside, as he slipped out of his shoes.
Ivar didn’t know what had gotten over you and before he even knew it, her hand had gone back to his thigh, and this time he was definitely unable to avoid popping a boner.
He was extremely thankful that she didn’t move further, although he felt himself almost moaning at the loss of her body against his, immediately cold and her fragrance mixed with her arousal, definitely less strong than when she was all over him.
She swayed her lips to move towards Roman, who looked like he quite enjoyed the show (almost as much as Ivar, who got to see all of her ass), leaning down to kiss her slowly, showring Ivar the entire anatomy of the kiss, as he pushed his tongue gently in hers, after he had bitten her upper lip, soothing the small hurt with a delicate kiss on it.
It was definitely quite arousing and Ivar couldn’t help but be slightly ashamed of his inexperience, immediately comparing his clumsy kiss to their, but he tried to avoid looking further, meanwhile Roman gently pushed her down in an half dip, getting her to giggle for him.
“Don’t be silly, Roman” she mumbled, before turning to Ivar, a bright smile on her face, almost making him blush even a more reddish color, with purple hues “… not in front of a guest”.
“Sweetheart” he gently took all her attention, bringing his hips onto her forehead, facing him as if he was expecting him to do anything and then turned her around, making her giggle “… don’t be a meanie, in front of the guest, or what will he think of us?”.
“That we are heathens” she muttered and then turned towards Ivar, sending him a deep look, before she pushed her lips out, sending a kiss in the air for him to catch “… but I don’t think that he minds it”.
He didn’t and gently pushed himself closer onto his crutches, grinding lightly against her till her mouth opened in a soft “O”, meanwhile Roman hid a smirk in her neck, before he donned it with pretty marks.
He could share but he still needed to mark his territory.
“… I don’t think that you could ever be an heathen, sweetheart” he whispered in your ear, softly, before biting down on your earlobe, making her yelp and push herself closer to Roman, who hugged her tenderly, but his expression held nothing of the sweetness he showed.
“This is just because you haven’t slept with her…” Roman’s smirk was seriously a Cheshire cat’s smile “… yet”.
“Well than shouldn’t you be doing something about it?” she taunted him, smirking softly, before she ran away from the two men, gaining a head start from them both and sprinting towards the bedroom.
Roman and Ivar just shared a look, before they moved to follow her.
Almost bumping into each other in their rush to reach her.
That would be a fun night.
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thebestestboyo · 4 years
Text
How Remus Started Working For Patton: Part 5
Masterpost
Tw: Remus being Remus/Swearing/Drug Mention/Drinking Coffee
While it took some getting used to, Remus was immensely pleased at his newfound membership to the Anacondas.
Not ONLY did he have another person to annoy the shit out of daily (this position was held by Dee and Virgil exclusively, as well as his brother), but he also was able to pop by and bring Pat on his adventures so he could feel that fuzzy sensation in his chest.
Ree still couldn't determine why he felt that way, but he supposed it was because Pat would listen to him ramble without telling him that it was stupid.
Or maybe it was because he was pretty? He was remarkably attractive, whether in a skirt or in a pair of jeans, and his hair seemed softer than even that dead rabbit Virgil dared him to touch once. Whether that was because the rabbit was dead or because Patton was Patton, it didn't matter. But even then, Remus had met plenty of attractive people! And he didn't usually have this reaction, at least, not one this soft.
Maybe it was the danger? Pat was part of a crime organization. Remus always did like the danger of doing things most people saw as dangerous or scandalous, but it didn't feel particularly high stakes yet. The most risky encounter they had was that damned seagull chasing after them. (Remus was going to kill that bird one of these days...)
He supposed he'd have to ask his brother. Grosssssss. Remus hated asking his brother for advice, it always was some fairytale crap or something similar. But, as Virgil wasn't home, and he was NOT going to ask Patton (that would be embarrassing), Dee (they're brothers) or Logan (he's not too good at emotions), he had no other choice.
So that's why he was standing on the balcony of Roman's apartment, hair full of leaves, sighing for what seemed like the twentieth time as Roman continued to not notice him.
"Oh brother dorkest!~ It is me, your evil twin! Get your gay ass out here!"
That seemed to do the trick, well, to some degree. It at least made Roman jump, turning his head to look through the window at him.
Not too long after, it also caused him to finally open the window! Spectacular.
"Remus you know I have a front door."
"Oh but it's just so much more fun to see your reaction when I use unconventional means! Remember when I used your vent system?"
"Yeah, and you nearly fell through it. To what do I owe the displeasure of a meeting with you?" Despite his words, Roman was clearly biting back a smile.
Hopping through the open frame, Remus began to pace around the apartment, leaving a trail of leaves in his wake. It had been windy outside, he couldn't help it!
"I am facing an emotional dilemma!"
"Dilemma? Who taught you these fancy words? Where is my real brother???" Roman crossed his arms where he stood, leaning up against the wall in amusement.
"Oh shut your butt. Seriously though, I am facing problems and all my other friends are unable to help at this time."
"That's a first."
Remus ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had put a braid in it or something. Normally he'd be fine with it full of leaves, he'd had worse, but right now he was on edge and he'd prefer if there wasn't the crinkly sound every time he moved. "Its with this guy dipshit! This guy that for whatever reason I cannot understand why he enjoys my presence."
With that statement, Roman's demeanor changed drastically. Making his way over to his brother, he sat him down on the couch. "This seems like a problem in which we'll need some coffee. You still like yours the same?"
Ree simply nodded, still stewing over his emotions.
His brother came back holding two mugs, one that was coffee only in name, and the other that was some amalgamation of cream cheese, sriracha sauce, and hot fudge.
He handed the abomination to Remus, sipping his own. "Ok spill."
"So a few weeks back, I met this guy. And I thought it would be like all my other flings ya know? Chill, not much expectations, and ending after about a week. But this guy is just, pure sunshine. He and I flirt a bit, and he's pretty cuddly but as far as I can tell he sees me as a friend. But I don't know how I see him, because whenever I'm around him I get this dizzy feeling and it's like being drunk and taking hallucinogenics at the same time??"
"Ah so you're in love with him!!!"
Remus nearly spit out his drink at how sudden it was. "Excuse me??"
"You're in love!!!"
"That's ridiculous! I don't do that! The most I have is a one night stand! A fling if I'm particularly bored! I don't do 'in love' my dearest bother." Making air quotes with his free hand, he continued sipping his drink, if you could call it that.
Seriously. What was even in it??? It looked disgusting! But for some reason Remus kept drinking it??? What a madman.
"Well, tell me about this guy then."
"What???"
"For curiosity's sake! It's been so long since I've had a relationship so I'm projecting to yours."
"Haven't gotten laid recently?" Remus wiggled his eyebrows, knocking elbows with him to see if he'd spill his drink.
"Ugh!! Vulgar, he'd at least have to buy me dinner first." Ro swiped his mug away before the mountain of whipped cream was disturbed, frowning. "But seriously! What's this guy like?"
"If you want the basic description, he's cute as fuck. If you want the less basic description, he's quite possibly the only guy who I would want to slow dance with since...collage at least."
"Wow, slow dancing??"
"I KNOW right??? He's got these pretty-ass eyes and whenever I look into them I just melt and he's so soft that when he hugs me I'm just a puddle of blood and guts on the floor and I'd let him tear the heart from my chest if he asked."
"Wow. That's...that is a crush. That my dear brother, is a crush!"
"Ugh shut up. So what's up with your life right now? Make any new musicals?"
Roman's face lit up, and then dimmed almost immediately after. He didn't meet Ree's eyes as he spoke, slowly stirring his drink. "Well..."
"Well what?"
"I did, but it was rejected again."
"That's bullshit! Your scripts are amazing! Even if they lack the blood and gore, they're some of the best pieces I've ever read! That cock of a publishing company should be begging for your works!"
"It's really not that big of a deal...they were unpolished anyways."
"I'm going to commit arson soon enough."
"Remus no! I'll just try some of the other publishers. I'll have to work twice as hard, but maybe one of them will like it..."
As Remus looked at his brother, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how his body curled into itself, as if it was barely staying together.
"Dipshit...you haven't been sleeping well huh?"
A shake of his head was all Remus needed to set both of their mugs down on the coffee table, lifting up his brother. "You need a break. I don't trust you not to work yourself to death."
"Remus no, I have to get working on the next-"
"Nope! I'm taking you to my pal's place. He'll watch after you. I'm going to work soon, so I'd do it myself, but he's second best."
"Please tell me you aren't leaving me at a bar."
"Nope! Logan doesn't drink. Says it messes with his brain's 'structural integrity' or something."
Roman, used to his antics, simply wrapped his arms around Remus, leaning into him as he grumbled something he couldn't hear.
"Don't worry, I'll grab your keys so you can get back in. He's nice I swear!"
"If I end up dead in an alley I'm haunting you."
"Virgil would hate that. He already thinks we have ghosts in our apartment, you'd be the final straw before he buys an ouija board."
They talked quietly as Remus grabbed some of Roman's important stuff, then heading out. Thankfully, no one bothered them on the walk over, and Remus didn't have much problem knocking on the stained door of Logan's place, which, in his words, 'serves as my workplace as well as my domicile so Remus kindly stop bothering my cat.'
"Hey Locoooooooooo!"
There was banging from inside as his only answer unfortunately, so Remus assumed that he was in his lab.
Time to let himself in! Roman had fallen asleep on his shoulder by now, so he couldn't set him down to crawl through a window. Crap. Might as well use the keys then.
Maneuvering his grip, he managed to grab them from his pocket, stepping in. Entropy, who was sitting on her cat tower, merely blinked at him before hopping off, most likely to go find Logan.
"Lo-comotive!"
"Remus I swear if your roommate threw you out again because you messed with a skunk-"
Ah! There he was. He must have been working with one of his machines again, when he came out to greet him, he was wearing his metal-working mask. "Hi Logie!~"
"Hello Remus. Why does it appear as if you're carrying a dead body?"
"This is my brother! I told you about him before. He needs someone to watch after him so he actually rests for once in his goddamned life."
Roman, who had awoken by now from all the noise, struggled to get out of Remus's arms. "I'm not a child-"
"I can't watch him right now since I have to go work at Hell Incorporated-" He made a face, disgusted at even the mention of his office job, "-so I thought you could?"
Logan turned up his mask, looking closer at Roman, his face...red? Wait what? It was probably because the machine tended to get hot. Or...
"Remus, you want me to nanny your twin brother?"
"Yep! He's an incorrigible little menace that won't sleep unless you force him to or he passes out from exhaustion."
"This is a grown man we are discussing?"
Piping up from his struggle to get down, Roman turned to look at Logan. "Exactl-"
His intended speech cut off as he locked eyes, exhaling a little bit at the sight. "oh."
Glancing between the two of them, Remus noticed the redness on both of their cheeks, and wanting to see none of whatever stirred up his brother, simply pushed him into Logan's twig arms. "I'll be back soon!"
Both turned to look at him, startled looks on both their faces.
"Remus!"
He was already out the door, snickering.
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flugelwhisper · 4 years
Text
Theory for the Next Sander Sides Vid - Continuation of SvS AND Changes?
So, I was reading @/queen-roman-sanders theory about the next vid (which you totally should read because I think it’s absolutely great). Anyhow, I read that post, went to make lunch, and I was just about to eat when I thought popped into my head - 
In “Growing Up,” we see that Patton does not deal with changes so well, especially with Logan trying to encourage Thomas to pursue a more professional job. Now how does that video combine with the teaser trailer? Well, let’s take a step back.
Let’s look at something Roman says in “Growing Up”: 
“I am always a proponent of following one’s heart, BUT, if it is not helping on the quest to fulfill one’s longing, then what is the gosh-darn-ding-dang point?”
Then, once Thomas changes into his ‘adult’ outfit, Thomas tells Patton that he (Thomas) “I can’t moment-to-moment doing whatever I want, because I’m not getting what I want long-term.” 
(Not to take away from the point, but that could also be related to the point made in SvsS that going to the wedding will serve Thomas and make his outward view of himself look better to everyone else.)
But, anyway, back to the point - Thomas isn’t thinking for the long term, but for the here and now. Anyway, Patton ended up being correct in the long-term, but, ultimately, all the Sides looked inwards at their oversight instead of acknowledging the point made by Patton. (I’m sure this also happens in LNTAO.)
And, at the beginning of the next vid, “Changes,” Logan remarks that, “With sudden change, the heart tends to be… confused.”
(Which, a claim could be also made that this happens in SvS because Patton is confusing/pressuring Thomas to listen to him [Patton] and not the others because Patton believes he knows what is best for Thomas. But, that’s another side tangent.)
Anyway, at the end of that vid, Character!Thomas mentions basically that, if you don’t like the way you’re going in life that you’re free to change that.
Okay, now that that's all outta the way, let me get into the real meat of the theory: Patton doesn’t want Thomas to go to the audition because he’s scared with how much it’ll change Thomas’s life. (Also, a side motive could be that Patton doesn’t feel listened to and this could be a way for him to finally garner attention. But, I digress.)
What if the real reason Patton wanted to go to the wedding was because he was scared of Thomas’s life changing so drastically. (To the point where Thomas would probably leave his currently lifestyle, family, and friends, and move to California.) Patton doesn’t want change, so he ultimately sabotage’s Thomas’s career in order to keep the life that is “safe.” Even though Patton knows that Thomas’s friends are just a text away, Patton’s still scared of losing them and scared of Thomas completely uprooting his life to pursue something else.
This is where my theory splits:
1.) Patton intentionally convinced everyone of the wrong date. This way Thomas didn’t have to go through the pain of being somewhere where he didn’t want to be (the wedding) and seeing something he doesn’t have but so desperately wants (a romantic relationship). Except, Patton doesn’t realize how badly this could boomerang back to him and it ends up severely damaging his relationship with Roman. (Because, of course, Patton sabotaged Roman’s hopes, dreams, and plans.) This could explain Thomas sitting by himself in an empty reception hall and Thomas checking his phone. Thomas ultimately storms out of the reception hall in an angry fit of rage, seeing that the wedding isn’t until the next day or what have you. The shot of him entering the house is where we pick up for the episode.
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2.) The date of the wedding that Thomas received was correct and the animation is of him at an empty table at the reception. (Everyone around him being on the dance floor and Thomas is too upset about missing the callback to even think about getting up and dancing.) At the reception, Thomas realizes what big of a mistake he makes, slips out of the reception before it can finish, and that’s where the storyline picks up. (This is the theory I think might be more plausible imo, since people tend to post their wedding dates EVERYWHERE nowadays.)
And the motives for both are obviously split as well:
1.) Patton was pushing Thomas to go to the wedding because he was afraid that, if he didn’t go to the wedding, it would effect Thomas’s image and, essentially, Roman as well. Patton was trying to protect Thomas’s reputation and, in turn, Roman as well, but it ultimately ended up hurting everyone else in the process because Thomas’s heart wasn’t in the right place.
2.) Patton is still so afraid of change that he would rather sacrifice Thomas’s career in order for them to remain safe and in their own home. However, by sacrificing that audition, Patton also sacrificed his friendship with pretty much all of the Sides because Patton betrayed their trust. Patton tried to do something that would make sure Thomas was “safe,” but he ultimately let go of an opportunity that could have drastically changed my life.
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(Reaction shot is from SvS after Roman’s verdict.)
TL;DR: Basically, one of my theories lies in the fact that Patton is still extremely scared of change to the point where Patton maybe intentionally lied about the wedding in order for Thomas to stay protected. The second theory is that Patton was afraid that skipping the wedding would hurt Thomas’s image (and therefore, Roman), so Patton convinced the gang to stay and go to the wedding. (Honestly? Also, I'm like 99% believe that this video is digging up more past disagreements. There's no way this is JUST about SvS.)
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samanthafm · 4 years
Text
Location: Charming Cemetery
Mentioned: @gravesrafael​
Also briefly mentioned: @marcusortiz​ @romanmaddox​ @strayxdevil​
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“Buenas tardes, tia. Buenas tardes, tio,” Sam said, as she placed the flowers onto their graves. She took off her sunglasses because she knew there wasn’t anybody around who’d judge her for the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot her eyes actually were. Sleep wasn’t coming to her easily now that she was still sleeping on her side of the bed, feeling like it was still half-empty. It had been days since the break up and time wasn’t moving in the same way. For the past few days, all Sam had done was cry into her ice cream as she watched shitty reality television shows, opting to focus on their shitty relationship problems instead of her own, only getting out of the house to call Opie back in. 
Cry. Eat. Get mad at reality show stars. Think about Raf. Repeat.
It was a vicious cycle and it was the first time she broke it when she finally dusted herself off, actually took a long shower and drove to the flower shop to get this bouquet. She figured her conversation -- or confession -- was overdue and Sam had to swallow thickly as she sat down in front of Rafael’s parents’ tombstones. “Lo siento,” Sam said, immediately bowing as she closed her eyes and shook her head. 
“Lo siento. I... I know I promised you both that I... that I’ll take care of him, but I-I don’t... I don’t know if... if I’m the person for the job. I don’t... I don’t think he’d want me to be,” Sam said in a small voice, hating how she could hear the way her voice was wobbling. She really wanted to be strong for this, but even the mere thought of Raf was enough to make her crumple down. This was the most fragile state Sam ever felt herself to be in and she thought she understand what a broken heart was when Raf broke up with her over the prison phone, but this? This was much worse. This was her knowing he was working a couple of streets away. He was here but he wasn’t hers. 
For all she knew, he was probably fucking a different sweetbutt every night. 
The bitter thought came at her so suddenly and Sam had to shake her head because even with what she saw, she couldn’t think of Raf that way because that wasn’t him. It fucking terrified her to know that she didn’t really know him as much as she thought she did. Maybe she was just trying so hard to paint him in the light that was familiar to her that she was blinding herself to the truth. Maybe Raf wasn’t who she thought she was? 
Wiping the tears away from her cheeks, Sam focused on the flowers instead. She had read somewhere that bringing flowers to a grave was the same as having a shrine for the deceased in their home. It reminded her of the table Sam and Raf had in their home where they had pictures of Rafael’s parents and Seth. There were candles on there too and Sam made sure the flowers planted on that table were fresh every morning. 
Some even said that the tradition started during the Greeks, when they placed flowers on the graves of Greek warriors. It was believed that if the flowers took root and blossomed on the graves, the souls of the warriors were sending a message that they had found happiness in the next world. She wished it was still like that, that she could have some way of communicating with the dead to make sure that they were okay. Before coming to Rafael’s parents’ graves, she had placed a bouquet over at Seth’s grave too, even did a ceremonial shot and left one for him, which is something she always did whenever she visited him. 
More than anything, though, Sam just wanted a conversation. Funny how that was the exact same thing she had wanted from their son, which had barreled into something that brought her to tears every time she thought about it. She wished she could still talk to his parents, laugh with them, eat his ma’s cooking and listen to his dad complain. Even though she knew Rafael’s relationship with his father was strained, it was obvious that his dad cared for him so much. He and Raf probably just shared the trait of not really knowing how to express that care for other people well. 
“I wish things were different,” Sam whispered before swallowing thickly. “I love your son. I’ve never loved anybody the way I loved Raf, and I... I wanna make sure he’s okay as much as you do but I--” Sam paused as she heard the crack in her voice, knowing a fresh wave of tears was bound to come. “I don’t think he wants to be around me anymore. I don’t... I don’t even think he wants me anymore,” Sam admitted, feeling as if someone literally ripped her heart out from her chest just because it was hurting so much. 
How? How could anyone find the words to explain how lost she felt without him? How stupid she felt for trusting someone with her entire heart because now, here she was grasping at anything to keep herself afloat. She didn’t know how he was doing but she could only hope that he was faring better than she was, because as angry as she was with him, she had only ever been concerned about him, and if this was her rock bottom then there was no fire in her heart to wish the same upon him. “I can’t really blame him, you know?” Sam said, exhaling shakily as she let the tears fall down her cheeks. “He... he said I made him feel like.... like-- I don’t even know. But he’s angry at me. Apparently, I like to play the victim card a lot,” Sam said, a mirthless chuckle escaping her lips. 
“And... maybe... maybe he’s right, you know? I may have fucked a lot of things up but I... I really thought I was getting this relationship right. I... I tried to be patient and there were fights here and there but I... God, I was trying so hard and maybe... maybe he took that as me belittling his efforts or... or something. Maybe I... I didn’t try hard enough? I don’t... I don’t know,” Sam whispered as she hugged her knees close to her chest, remembering how angry he was at that clubhouse as he yelled at her, remembering the way his hands were on that sweetbutt’s thighs and she had to suppress a yell that was bubbling in her chest. The sight of it still made her want to punch somebody. Mix that in with being sleep-deprived as hell and it just made Sam want to pop another sleeping pill so she can escape all this pain. 
“I’ve got friends in the MC,” Sam said with a little shake of her head, reminding herself why she came here in the first place. “It goes without saying that they already look out for each other because... that’s what they do, you know? But I can... I can talk to Marcus. Roman’s there too. Stray too. They’ll... they’ll take care of him. I know they will. I--” God, just how many times can a person feel choked up talking one person? Dammit. “I’m sorry,” Sam breathed out as she bowed her head in shame. “I made you both a promise and I don’t... I don’t know if I can hold it up but... I’ll... I’ll do whatever it takes, okay? He’ll be safe. You know, tio, I always told you he’s smarter than he seems, so much stronger than you give him credit for. He’ll... he’ll be okay without... without me,” Sam murmured, clearing her throat as she stood up and dusted herself off. “I’m sure he already is,” she said, unable to hide the bitterness from her voice as the thought of that sweetbutt on his lap popped up again, causing her to close her eyes tightly.
“I should... I should head back to work. They’re probably wondering where I am,” Sam said, adjusting her bag strap before taking a deep breath and placing her hand on the tombstone. “I hope you’re enjoying heaven up there. Make all the wood carvings for me, tio. Tia... I hope he’s appreciating your cooking up there as much as...” Sam’s voice faltered. “As much as Raf appreciates your cooking down here. He’s... he’s trying your recipes and he... I think he’s got another talent up his sleeve,” Sam said, an affectionate smile forming on her lips, which didn’t really go well with the tears in her eyes. “Te quiero, tio. Te quiero, tia. I’ll come visit you agian soon.”
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hiddendreamer67 · 4 years
Text
Switching Sides
Summary: Deceit convinces Remus and Virgil to join him as disguising themselves as light sides: Deceit as Patton, Remus as Roman, and Virgil as Logan. It’s a surprise to no one when they’re caught. Afterwards, it’s discussed if Virgil has become a good person- er, side.
October Prompt #8: Switched
Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!
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“Ooh, would you look at that!” Remus purred, twisting his hips this way and that as he held out his wrist to inspect, playing with the golden cuff links. “Who knew my brother’s clothes were so loose?”
“Remus, if you thrust your hips in my direction a third time, I will stab you.” Deceit growled threateningly, in the process still of adjusting the prince costume to fit the more eccentric creativity. Virgil looked on, feeling a bit out of place.
“So… why do I have to be Logan again?” Virgil looked at the tie around his neck, already too tight. He went to loosen it, but a look from Deceit made him stop messing with it.
“Because I’m the only one who can play Patton.” Deceit stood up, dusting off the light blue polo he wore. It was strange, seeing ‘Patton’ act so calm and collected. It was obvious ‘Roman’ was still Remus, what with the way he kept wiggling his eyebrows, but it was still odd to see Remus without his mustache. “I would also be the most convincing Logan, but you have no pep and Remus has no morals.”
“Morals are boooooooring.” Remus groaned. “Let’s set some houses on fire!”
“Remus, if we pull this off, Thomas will listen to all your ideas.” Deceit assured him, wrapping an arm around Remus’ shoulders.
“What? No!” Virgil immediately protested. “That goes against my job, keeping Thomas safe!” 
Deceit frowned, coming closer to Virgil. “I was lying to him.” He explained quietly.
“...oh.”
“Now Virgil.” Deceit looked him dead in the eye, and Virgil shifted uncomfortably at seeing Patton’s face so serious. “You’re losing your touch. You’ve grown soft with them.”
“No, I...I haven’t.” Virgil defended himself lamely.
“Yes you have!” Remus piped up, not attempting to be subtle about your eavesdropping. “You didn’t even try to give a witty comeback there! You used to be all bark and no bite and now you’re not even a bark.”
“I’ll bark you right up a tree.” Virgil groaned, rubbing his forehead. “What? No, I- whatever. Creativity isn’t my thing.”
“I know- it’s mine.” Remus gave a smug little twirl. “Oooooh, I’m so excited to be center stage again! We should really switch things up more often.”
“We can’t, the others are never going to be okay with this.” Virgil warned.
“The others are never going to know.” Deceit gave Virgil a pointed look. “And so long as we pop in so that Thomas doesn’t actually summon them, Thomas is never going to know either.”
“What, you don’t think he’s going to suspect something when ‘Patton’ is telling him to do the opposite of yesterday, ‘Roman’ is unbelievably horny, and ‘Logan’ is a stuttering mess?” Virgil knew himself well enough to know he was no Logan. 
“Stop thinking of worst case scenarios.” Deceit instructed him, which was basically equivalent to telling a human being to stop breathing. “Thomas hardly listens to Logan, simply use some slang incorrectly and he’ll never suspect a thing.”
“And what about you two?” Virgil raised an eyebrow at Remus, who was looking beneath Roman’s clothes. “I doubt Dukey over there will be able to keep it in his pants.”
Deceit grimaced, seeming to be thinking along the same lines. “Yes… that might be our biggest challenge, but I have a few excuses up my sleeve. Mostly framing it as a change brought on by Thomas’ lack of ability to get a boyfriend.”
“So you’re going to guilt trip him.” Virgil’s expression darkened.
“It’s hardly a lie.” Deceit scoffed, which was rich coming from the embodiment of deception. “Why do you think Remus even exists? All those suppressed hormones had to be bottled up somewhere.”
“I think you mean whore-moans.” Remus teased.
“He did not.” Virgil deadpanned.
“But don’t you get it? It’s got whores and moaning! Man I’m really good at this pun thing, maybe I should be Patton.” Remus mused.
“No!” Deceit snapped. “No more switching around. I’m Morality, you’re Creativity, and you’re Logic.” Without another word he disappeared, and up above Virgil could hear the faint beginnings of his act.
Virgil frowned, glancing up and wondering if he should go get the light sides after all. He wasn’t a dark side anymore, they would listen to him… right? But was that what’s best for Thomas? Should Virgil be even worrying about what’s best for Thomas if Thomas was so clearly becoming a bad person? A normal human wouldn’t have nearly so many dark aspects of himself tucked away. But giving the controls over to the subconscious didn’t feel very safe, either.
Virgil’s frown deepened, fiddling with the tie again. Logan would know what to do- the real Logan. He’d know the best logical solution, even if Roman didn’t like it and Patton hated him for it.
“They’re never going to trust you again.”
Virgil’s head snapped up. Remus was grinning at him cheerfully from across the room, making Virgil feel like a cornered mouse. It was clear Remus had noticed the way Virgil was fondling the tie.
“Especially not Thomas.” Remus crowed. “Not after this. You know Logan doesn’t like others playing with his toys.” 
Virgil growled, watching Remus sink out to join Deceit above. He hated that that moron was right- it reminded him of the few times Roman had an admittedly good idea. 
The anxious side shook his head. He really was growing soft- why should he care if Thomas didn’t trust him? He didn’t need to trust him. Virgil did what he needed to do to protect Thomas, for better or worse. And if Thomas would be more willing to see Virgil’s reasoning if he was ‘Logic’... perhaps this really was for the best. Logan was always able to keep Patton and Roman in check, surely Virgil could do the same with Deceit and Remus. It’s for the best.
Despite telling himself this, Virgil felt a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose up to fill the final spot.
“Logan’s here!” Deceit cheered, in a way that Virgil could almost believe it was Patton. Almost.
“Yes, hello Patton.” Virgil greeted awkwardly, shifting to try and adjust his posture. Logan stood up straight, he didn’t slouch. “Thomas, what’s…” Virgil trailed off, his words caught in his throat for a moment as he looked to the human himself. Thomas was looking to him with such pure confusion, in a way that made it clear that he wanted answers and trusted no one else to tell him the truth. 
Even on the best of days, Thomas never looked at Virgil that way. Anxiety had to be kept at a distance and feared.
“Cat got your tongue, Nerdy Numby?” Remus tilted his head curiously, and Virgil caught a dangerous glint in his eye clearly urging Virgil to speak.
“I seem to be… out of the loop.” Virgil cleared his throat, forcing himself to meet Thomas’ expression. Oh good lord, now Thomas was looking at him with concern, too. Thomas was concerned for him! Well not him, but Logan, and- “What seems to be troubling you, Thomas?”
Thomas frowned, looking around at the three of them. “...you’re acting weird.” He decided.
Tug.
“Whaaaaaaat?” Remus laughed awkwardly, in a way that perfectly resembled his light brother’s insecurities. “Thomas, I would never hide anything from you!”
“Roman, you’re freaking me out.” Thomas winced. “You’re kind of sounding like…”
Tug. 
“Roman’s not feeling very well.” Deceit wrung his hands nervously, the picture of an innocent lamb. “It’s all this talk of being good or bad or grey, it’s got him feeling… not so glittery! And I mean, how can a person really be grey, you can’t be a color-”
“Patton, you’re deflecting again.” Thomas pointed accusingly 
TUG. 
Virgil’s eyes widened in sudden recognition of the tugging sensation in his gut, recognizing the pull of a summoning. “Thomas, you’re getting quite anxious.” Virgil said, a bit louder than necessary as he gave the other two a warning glance.
“And that’s just it!” Thomas threw his arms up in exasperation, the tugging getting even stronger to the point where Virgil had to cling to the stair post to stay upright. “Of course I’m feeling anxious, you all are acting like- like kooky cookies and yet despite this unpleasant feeling that something is absolutely wrong Virgil is nowhere to be-”
CRASH!
All heads whipped around to Virgil, who had been all but thrown against the wall in his usual spot. He groaned, slowly standing up. The glasses he wore were skewed and the tie had become ruffled in the chaos of so forcefully changing spots. Well, guess that was one way to tell when Thomas needed him.
“...Logan?” Thomas murmured, looking hurt and confused as Virgil hunched in on himself. 
“Yes?” All dark sides froze, a chill going up their backs as the real Logan popped into place. He gave Virgil a considering look. “...why are you in my garments, Virgil?”
“Wait, Virgil?” Thomas looked around, giving all sides present a wary glance. “What about you, Patton?”
“I’m just as confused as you are, Kiddo.” Deceit shrugged meekly. Thomas gave Logan an inquisitive glance, wanting the truth. 
“Deceit!” Logan exclaimed, revealing the impostor with an exuberant point of his finger.
“Oh dear, nothing gets by you, does it, Logan?” Deceit rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest as his scales reappeared. 
“And you’re Remus!” Thomas accused, pointing to the one in princely garb.
“Yours unruly!” Remus grinned, his mustache reappearing. “My brother’s a bit tied up at the moment.”
“Don’t wink when you say that.” Virgil groaned. 
“Thomas, it appears that the previously subconscious aspects attempted to trick you into believing they were Patton, Roman, and myself.” Logan informed him, stating what was now the obvious.
“Well yeah, thanks Logan, I got that far.” Thomas squinted at each impostor in turn. “I mean, I’d expect that from you two, but…” Thomas’ gaze fell on Virgil, and Virgil felt the immediate urge to sink down into the subconsciousness forever. “Why’d you do it, Virge?”
“I…” Virgil’s tongue felt like sandpaper, and he focused on taking off the glasses instead of answering the question. 
“I’m quite curious about that, as well.” Logan admitted, looking at Virgil intently but not yet with judgement. Virgil closed his eyes, wishing he wasn’t about to destroy all of that trust.
“...you really should keep better track of your sides, Thomas.” Deceit spoke up, drawing all attention to him as he inspected his nails. Or were they still Patton’s nails? “They’re getting too easy to manipulate.”
Virgil raised an eyebrow, on edge and wondering what sort of scheme Deceit was plotting now.
“First it was Patton, then Roman, now Virgil…” Deceit tsked, looking up to Logan. “I think Logic is next to be knocked down a peg, don’t you?”
“Impossible.” Logan informed him with a scoff. “Knowledge and reasoning are not so easily swayed as those who base their crucial functions on the unsteady structure that is emotions and- ugh- feelings.”
“I doubt that there’s not a chink in your armor.” Deceit hummed. “After all, Virgil had Thomas fooled that he was a good side.”
“Virgil is a good side!” Thomas insisted, and Virgil’s heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to swell in size of shatter entirely. 
“Is he?” Deceit looked unconvinced. “How incredibly naive of you. I think Virgil is as good a side as you are a good person.”
“I… I am a good person.” Thomas said slowly.
“You hesitated!” Remus was quick to point out happily. “Come now Thomas, join the dark side, live a little looser.”
“Virgil and Thomas are equally good, considering ‘goodness’ is a social construct and arguably meaningless.” Logan didn’t seem to be filling either with much faith. “Despite Virgil’s strange actions today, his record indicates that he intends to protect Thomas. For this reason, we can conclude that he has a ‘good’ average, so to speak, despite morality not being mathematically quantifiable-”
“Logan, we need English, buddy.” Thomas interrupted.
Logan sighed, but he took a moment to readjust his wording. “Thomas, you trust Virgil to be good, yes?” 
Thomas looked to Virgil, staring at the anxious side for a very long time. “Of course I do.” He said finally.
“Then he is, inevitably, good.” Logan gave a decisive nod. “We are only figments of your consciousness. Our capability to be helpful and sincere is dependent on your perception of us.”
“And what about Tommy-Boy himself?” Remus argued. “If he’s bad, we’re bad.”
“Perhaps, but-”
“No butt’s about it!” Remus joked, giving a cheeky grin.
Logan gave him an unimpressed look, not a fan of being interrupted. “Perhaps, however, we have been figuratively running in circles deciding if Thomas is a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ person. The fact of the matter is we have no control over how others view him morally. It becomes not an issue of who Thomas is, but rather who you trust him to be.” 
Logan turned, his attention now focused to Virgil. “It is logical to have fears about how others will view Thomas, but worrying excessively will drive Thomas to be unproductive and miserable, stuck unable to decide for himself. Sometimes it is necessary to take a step back, reevaluate your purpose and trust others to do their function. Taking control of responsibilities that are not your own will only hinder the system as a whole.”
Virgil coughed, awkwardly rubbing his neck in shame. “That uh… that’s a real long-winded way to tell us to ‘stay in our lane’.” 
“Oh Logan, I’ve been thoroughly scolded.” Deceit bat his own hand sarcastically, looking no less repetitive. “How you’ve thwarted me again. I certainly won’t be back.” With this ominous note, Deceit sunk out.
“Bye Tomma-lomma-ding-dong, see you in your dreams~!” Remus waggled his fingers, sinking out as well.
“Please don’t.” A weary Thomas sighed, wondering what Remus would have in store for him tonight.
Virgil shifted, feeling uncomfortable. “...guess that’s my queue.” He felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but at the same time a small, desperate part of him willed anybody to stop him, to say he hadn’t forever screwed up the meager amount of acceptance he had gained the past few years.
Uninterrupted, Virgil sunk out, and a moment later Logan was beside him in the mind palace as well.
“Please return my articles of clothing to my room once they are cleaned.” Logan instructed. 
Virgil cringed. “Yeah, sure thing.” The clothes felt uncomfortably exposing now, showing far too much skin. Virgil didn’t know how Logan could stand being so vulnerable. “...Sorry.”
“Apology accepted, Virgil.” Logan nodded in thanks. “I will see you tomorrow.” 
“You will?” Virgil did little to hide the surprise in his tone. 
“Yes?” Logan gave him a confused glance. “You and I are critiquing Roman’s suggestions, are we not?”
“I… kinda thought you’d never want to see me again.” Virgil admitted. 
“That very idea is absurd.” Logan adjusted his tie. “We occupy the same mind, it is impossible to avoid contact entirely.”
“No, i mean…” Virgil groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. “I totally was an ass today! I tried to switch back to my old habits, and I almost hurt Thomas.”
“...but you did not.”
“But I could’ve.”
“You did not.” Logan insisted. “It is logical for you to have relapses into less than ideal behaviors, but regardless of your darker habits it is clear that you are no longer the individual you once were. Your old allies made that clear today.”
“I...I guess they did.” Virgil wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The isolation was- good? It meant he was a light side, at least in their eyes. 
“In your case, I would be more worried about the mental images you have now supplied Thomas.” Logan allowed himself a sly smirk. “I’m certain Roman will be quite amused when a lot of strange materials appear in his half of the dream workshop tonight, likely featuring you as a typical ‘nerd’.”
Virgil went ghostly pale, realizing his fatal error. “...oh no.”
Logan chuckled, giving Virgil an only slightly awkward pat on the back. “It is… reassuring to have you on our side, Virgil.”
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