Hi there! This story isn’t something I would usually post on this account, but honestly this fandom is destroying my life and I just need to let out my feelings.
For those of you who don’t know, there’s a YouTuber named Thomas Sanders who has a series of videos called the Sanders Sides. These characters are basically physical aspects of his personality - and even then, they are still their own people. So this short piece will be written about that - if you’re not in the fandom, you may be really confused as you read this.
And to those who are Fanders - I wrote this before the video was uploaded on Monday (if you’re from the distant future, I’m referring to “Excepting Anxiety”). Also, this was based on a theory that was built upon by multiple people about Anxiety’s name being Ann, because he seems himself as JUST Anxiety.
Anyway, with that whole ramble out of the way, I hope you enjoy my first Sanders Sides story!
Trigger Warning: Panic attack, minor swearing, mentions of static and buzzing noises, passing out
Please feel free to let me know if there’s anything else to tag!
“My name is Ann. Just Ann.” His cheeks began to color as he lowered his head, surveying the faces of those surrounding him. Silence lingered among the traits until they burst into laughter instead.
“Oh, I knew you had a soft side!”
“Yes, as Thomas would say this is quite-” There was a pause as Logic pushed up his glasses and thumbed through a few index cards. “Pure.” He stated after a few moments. He looked up with a small smile before Morality brought them into a group hug.
Roman sulked in the corner of the room, unsure of what to do. He wanted to celebrate along with the other sides, but he just couldn’t bring himself to smile. Not when he knew the truth.
“Excuse me?” Anxiety - no, Ann rose an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing in the direction of Roman. What was his problem? Wasn’t he supposed to be sugar, spice and everything nice?
“That’s not your name.” Roman clarified as the other two traits gaped at him. Anxiety’s smile curled into a grimace, a growl rising from his throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He huffed, finding that it was easier to look at the floor than Roman’s eyes.
“Don’t be a smartass,” The valiant trait paced forward, closer and closer. “That’s Logan’s role, not yours.” There he was, only a few shaky heartbeats away. No, stay away, stay away, stay away. “In fact, I don’t think you even have a role.”
Anxiety felt his breath shorten with each step, his heart clenching and convulsing irregularly. It made it harder to decipher the difference between a second and a minute, an hour and a day. Maybe it was night time already, because the world was growing dark. The ceiling was becoming littered with spots but they weren’t stars, which confused him. Stars didn’t come in shades of pink or green or blue, right?
“…Useless…There’s no point…He just makes us feel bad…Roman, stop…”
Yes, stop, damn it make it stop! A crude buzzing noise resonated in Anxiety’s head, causing the room to shift. It felt as if it were piercing his temple, the sound becoming shrill and drowning out their voices. Their voices, oh god, their voices, they were all the same. They were all the same.
“All his fault…Waste of space…Just another villain…”
Their voices crackled and the sound reminded him of popcorn. Suddenly he felt tired and the world seemed fuzzy. He felt fuzzy, too. Especially his head. Had Patton left the TV on? Was tonight supposed to be a movie marathon? Anxiety’s head began to throb along with his heart, his thoughts cluttered. The sound of static persisted, yet no one seemed to notice.
“At least we have personalities…He doesn’t…He’s just Anxiety…”
Roman’s angry yells overpowered the static in his brain, his words forcing their way into his brain. He was reminded of his place, of this place and why he didn’t belong in it.
As quickly as everything had fallen in place, it all fell apart. The walls were collapsing in on him, all four of them, the three of them snickering as they began to close in on him. Anxiety felt himself falling, failing, when would it end? Anxiety felt himself float between this world and another, one that seemed brighter yet was darker in color. At times his senses piqued and others they flattened completely. But there was one thing that was certain; he just kept sinking.
Sinking in consciousness, sinking to the floor. Pressure against his upper back, muffled whispers, scattered notecards, the static persisting even through all of the turmoil.
2087
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