Sanders Sides Whumpshots

"I've always wanted to cut someones tounge out!" (LAMP)

Tw: u!light sides, putting yourself down
Thank you to Allygator98 for the prompt! It isn't really what you requested, but I might try rewrite it.

Being a light side fucking sucked.

That was the thing about them. They were held up by lies. Their kind and accepting façade never seemed to fail them.

Even when Virgil joined them. Things held up relatively well.

That was, until, it was Virgils turn to see how they really were.

It was never anything bad at first, just a scold from Patton every now and then, or a rude remaek from Roman. It was nothing h wouldn't handle, he was anxiety after all.

He could handle it up until Patton had hit him.

Hard.

But when Virgil looked up at him with teary eyes, Patton just shrugged and told him he shouldn't have talked back.

That was only the very begginging.

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"Virgil!"

Oh great. Someone just had to talk to him during the good part of his song.

Letting out and annoyed huff, he got off his bed and went downstairs to see Patton baking.

"Oh hey Vee! I was just wondering if you'd want to help me make some cookies!" He beamed, phrasing it more of a statement than a question.

"Oh, I was actually planning on-" Virgil started, before being cut off.

"Planning on what? What could be better than bonding with your old man? Here, stir this." He said, shoving the bowl into his hands.

Guess he had to help now.

~

Baking with Patton was the opposite of fun.

Virgil was tense the whole time. He was afraid if he did something wrong, Patton would snap.

He didn't want Patton to hit him again.

So he stayed and helped, despite his gut screaming at him to go back to his room and ignore the world.

"Whatcha thinking bout kiddo?" Pattons voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Oh, nothing." He said, rolling the cookie dough into balls and placing them in the tray.

"Really? Cause it seemed more important than us baking. I thought you wanted to help me cook." He said, looking down a little.

Virgil panicked, he didn't like seeing Patton sad, it made him sad.

"No! Trust me, I just got lost in thought, I do wanna be down here!" Virgil said, borderline pleading to the other side.

"Well, of you say so kiddo! Now C'mon, these cookies won't rool themselves!" He said, ignoring Virgil cringe.

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"You know, you really are a pain!" Roman exclaimed, stomping down the stairs, startling Virgil.

"Me? How am I a pain?" He said somewhat sassy.

"Oh, don't okay dumb Panic! at the everywhere! Giving you're input during one of our discussions? You're still a dark side, you need to learn your place." He said, standing near the couch now.

"Oh yeah? Virgil said, standing up to face Roman, "last time I checked my input made you're shitty ideas seem a little less shitty! Virgil spat, making Roman huff.

"They aren't stupid ideas! You don't know the difference between good and bad, look at you!" He hissed back.

"Oh please, your only insult is going for the fact that I was a dark side!" Virgil said, making Roman scrunch up his nose. "For creativity, you have some pretty shit ide-" Virgil couldn't finsh his sentence due to a fist colliding with his face, making him fall onto the couch.

Virgil help a hand up to his nose, seeing blood trickle down his hands.

"And now anger magically solves everything?" He said, glaring at Roman beofre sinking down to his room.

Fucking anxiety!

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Virgil missed the days when he had confidence.

When he would smirk after calling Roman out, watching him crumble underneath the crippling weight of his big ego and insecurities.

Or when he wouldn't be frightened by Patton walking into a room, and would continue listening to music instead of taking one headphone off, just incase he wanted to pester Virgil about something that didn't matter.

It was different now.

He was reduced to an obedient, non-angsty, broken mess.

Anytime he would say a snarky comeback, he'd be slapped.

Or, if he ever so slightly hurt princeys feelings, he'd have a bar of soap forced down his throat.

Pattons words still rung through his head anytime he thought about it.

"Now kiddo, you shouldn't put down Roman and his good work. I'd drop the tone of I were you, if not, well, I've always wanted to cut someone's tounge out!"

It made him shiver, subconsciously moving his tounge around his mouth, not imagining it being cut off.

He hated how he was now. Hated how he acted, hated what he wore, hated how he looked, hated everything about himself.

He couldn't even look in the mirror without being reminded of what he used to be.

It hurt.

But of course, he was a light side now! There's no time to dwell over how you look, or how you dress. It was time to think about Thomas, and behave. To be good and avoid messing up.

If it was that simple, why did he always fuck up?

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This sucks complete fucking ass. This is nothing like what you asked for, I see what you meant, but it turned into something else, and I just rolled with it.

I think I only have one more prompt, and then I'm all caught up :)