#thomas sanders fanfic

[urlocal-cryptid7]

Say what you want about the sanders sides fandom but god damn do they know how to write fanfiction

[prodigal-explorer]

sanders sides controversial opinions poll!

hi, guys! i've been in the sanders sides fandom for a few years now, and i've been really curious about where the majority of fans stand in terms of the most hot topics in the fandom right now. i made a nice little google form, and i'd love it if you guys filled it out with your opinions, anonymously, of course! there are no wrong answers, it's just opinions, and i want to know the real information, so don't worry about getting flamed or hated on because that's not going to happen!

also please reblog or send to your fander friends! i want this to reach as many interested people as possible!!

[the-bisexual-bitch]

I need more analogical in the headspace. I don't want AUs, I want my two Little Autistic Guys shoved together in the brainspace because Virgil is having a Bad Time and none of the more 'emotional' sides are available (they were helping Thomas or something), so Logan helps. Or Virgil just SPECIFICALLY wants to be around Logan.

I need more of them being specifically described in the brainspace and looking different from Thomas. I need more of them being mildly upset that they don't look like themselves when they're helping Thomas.

I need more of the darksides and lightsides being basically two weird semi-funtional poly relationships.

I need more of Virgil having been in an unhealthy relationship with one of the Darksides and thinking he got away from them

I need more of Janus actually biting people and having venom.

I need more angst around Virgil feeling like he's a poser who's actually Bad and undeserving of the care given to by the Lightsides

I need more of Virgil not liking the phrases "Darkside" and "Lightside"

I need more of Virgil feeling infantilized by Patton and Patton struggling to get it

I need more long essays written about One Line to read and be convinced by.

(Please recommend fics, artists, tumblr accounts, etc.. I'm begging you.)

[edupunkn00b]

Fanfic Reblog Party 🥳

In all seriousness (and complaints about our Beloved Hellsite’s ™️ busted excuse for search aside), I’m not seeing a lot of stories on my dash. Like none.

Wonderful writers, please reblog your stories and tag me. Old stories, new stories, links to AO3 or big fancy Tumblr posts, reblog and tag me and I’ll reblog. And then more people can reblog those and…

Let’s get this party started!

[manybrokenquills]

someone save me I'm slipping back into the clutch of sander sides

[loganslowdown4]

*Logan reading to Roman from a Sherlock Holmes novella*

Roman: I’m loving this one.

Logan: I’m glad you’re enjoying it, it’s one of my favourites.

Roman: Holmes and Watson have it all in this! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Logan: Romance?

Roman: I have a crush on both of them.

Logan: Ah.

@loginceweek2024

[electr1c4]

rewatching a whole series just to write fanfiction in character

[caitcat04]

Sanders sides fans!! Are you still out there??

I just remembered a fic that I would love help finding pls! It's like a period piece where Thomas is a historian and moves into an old house and meets all the sides as ghosts. Then, he pieces together their life stories as he talks to each ghost and eventually manages to republish the stories of their lives and set their souls free.

I remember some vague details:

It had all 6 sides

Roman was an artist/poet but was very ill

Logan was his doctor

They were in looooveee

Patton and Virgil ended up together which was super cutee

Its them retelling the stories of their deaths so its quite sad.

They all find each other again in ghost form, it's so cute!

Idk who the author was but I think I read it on ao3?? If u could help that'd be so great thank u!!

[fascinationsublime]

Okay but imagine bully!Roman calling Virgil "Gerard gay" and Virge being like ...and what about it? What's wrong with being gay? Are you saying it's a bad thing?

And Roman is fucking stunned that he would just admit to it like that. And immediately starts backtracking because oh shit he actually might have a chance with his crush. Like "No! No it's not bad! I don't always say mean nicknames!" and Virgil just gives him a look like 'are you for real? all you do is insult me. give me one example of a not mean nickname.'

And Roman's like 'oh shit think!' "I called you J.Delightful! That's not an insult."

"J.D. was a murderer...I looked it up."

Queue Roman's internal screaming: 'You looked it up?! He looked it up!? For me!?! Because I called you that?!'

Roman sheepishly: "I mean he's also technically the romantic interest of the movie...not that- I- Right yeah I'm gonna go! Bye!"

And Virgil's just left there to rethink every interaction he's ever had with Roman. Like 'that time he called me scare-amor I thought it was a pun on the band Paramore but the word paramour means secret lover or- or! Amor means love in Spanish. Roman speaks Spanish!' just a thousand miles per minute like 'and he called me 'my chemically imbalanced romance' which like rude and also MCR. But also his- HIS! chemically imbalanced romance?! Does Roman...like me?! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck'

[annaizscribbling]

Frosted Windows

In which Janus has a question to ask.

Wordcount: 2093

Janus tapped his fingers on the wooden end table pressed up against the plush black armchair he was seated in. His mismatched eyes were thoughtful, not kind, but thoughtful. He often looked like he was actively coming up with a challenge. A test. A trick.

The room was lavish. Dark stained oak made up the floors and furniture. A Persian rug covered the floor. High ornate ceilings above. Strange oil paintings adorned the walls, all normal at a first glance yet stranger when examined.

He kept drumming his fingers. The gloves made the sound silent. Still, the movement was captivating. It wasn’t rapid but measured. All five fingers tap in quick succession before a half moment break. Then again. Again. Again.

The ticking of an unseen grandfather clock rocked a rhythm into the room. His legs were crossed. At the ends of his dress pants, black socks peeked through before being hidden below leather dress shoes. It was 9:00AM. He always looked this formal. He smelt like pine.

‘Do you think, in your opinion, that you’re a good person?’ Janus asked coolly, eyes only half open, like the question was so dull he barely had to be awake to ask it.

‘Odd question to ask me of all people.’ I say, because it is. I am the last person worth asking this.

Janus raises his eyebrows in a mocking replica of surprise. Like my assumption is unexpected, or even bold. It isn’t. ‘I never said you were the only person I’ve ever asked,’ Janus said.

I don’t bother challenging that, though I’m positive he hadn’t been rounding us up one by one to ask. ‘Even still. It’s an odd thing to ask me.’

‘I don’t hear an answer,’ Janus says, fingers drumming again. His gaze is drifting away from me. I’m being boring to him. Or maybe he’s pretending to be bored by me. He wouldn’t be the first to do either.

‘I think good and bad are subjective,’ I tell him, nearly clinically.

Janus smiles. His smiles are sharp and pointy like the edge of a blade. ‘You think that answer impresses me,’ he says like it is fact.

‘I don’t care enough to impress you’ I say.

‘You are refusing to entertain the question. Simply by asking specifically for your opinion, I am acknowledging that the question and answer are both subjective. I know that you cannot objectively answer.’ Janus looks back at me. I don’t like his gaze trained so closely on my face.

‘Then what is the point?’ I say, slightly colder now.

‘Come now,’ Janus chuckles. The sound is like a deep rumble from an old actor with a transatlantic accent. ‘Even you aren’t completely practical. Don’t you enjoy a little bit of stimulating company? Indulge me. It’s one question.’

‘There is no simple answer to your singular question,’ I tell him.

‘Then we can start at a simpler point,’ Janus says like I am a child struggling to understand a basic concept. ‘How about this? Is humanity good?’

‘I don’t believe you are as funny as you think you are.’

‘Come on, I’ve been dying to pick your mind,’ Janus says without convincing me of his words. ‘Just answer the question. Is Humanity good in your opinion?’

‘Again, there is no objective answer to that question,’ I sigh curtly, ‘and what’s the point in an answer that subjective? It’s pointless here. I don’t bother with pointless what ifs.’

‘Mmmmm. Not a philosopher Too practical?’ Janus says, smiling at the window. The glass is frosted, so what lies beyond it is too blurry to make out. It’s hard to decide if Janus would be the type of dream up an unused front lawn just to be blurred by a windowpane. There are certainly some of us who would, but would Janus?

‘No. I am not a philosopher. I leave that to you, Janus,’ I tell him tautly.

‘It’s true, I do love hypotheticals,’ Janus preens, running his fingertips along the brim of his hat, ‘but I like them because they so easily apply to reality. I don’t exclusively spend my hours scheming up pointless questions. I think that I’m clever enough to avoid pointless questions. I ask about what I see.’

‘And what do you see, exactly?’

‘More questions,’ Janus shrugs with his usual poised nonchalance. ‘Just like the ones I’m asking you. Is humanity good in your subjective opinion?’

‘Humans are not good or bad,’ I say, knowing I will not sway him.

‘Right, right, but that’s a cop out, my friend. By saying that, what do we imply?’ Janus asked, spreading his arms.

‘I imagine you will tell me.’

‘Saying there is no good or bad implies that humans are animals. There is no good or bad in a deer or a dog. Are we the same? Or do we simply delude ourselves into it? Our higher intelligence only hinders our personal aspirations then. Morality furthers the wellbeing of our species as a whole while shackling the individual. We need not morals or empathy then. Doing ‘bad’ things aren’t actually bad things at all. Only things.’

‘…Sure,’ I say after a pause, if only to appease him. My hesitation makes it sound like I don’t understand. I do. I just don’t like where he might be steering me. I don’t like being steered at all. This is the most basic train of thought; I don’t understand why he’s wasting his time on it.

Janus looks slightly annoyed at my lack of engagement. ‘So what? You agree?’

‘Elaborate.’

‘Humans are animals controlled by invented feelings of guilt and moral superiority to our unrestrained mammals we share the world with,’ he says.

‘I suppose.’

‘So if I hurt you, it means nothing. I can do what I’d like, and you may acknowledge it as harmful to you, either emotionally or physically, but it is not a ‘bad’ thing to do.’

‘Janus,’ I say wearily, ‘this is neither inventive nor stimulating. I was there when Thomas went to high school. I thought you had better material than this.’

‘Come now,’ Janus clicks his tongue, fingers drumming again. ‘I know you know this. I want your opinion on it.’

‘I think you have a guess as to my opinion, and want your guess to be proven correct,’ I say, feeling impatient. I stuff the feeling down. I don’t have anything pressing to do. Feeling impatient otherwise is a childish emotion. I don’t have time to entertain it.

‘Fine,’ Janus sighs, ‘you really know how to suck the fun out of this you know.’

My hands have been folded in my lap until this point. I feel my arms and spine stiffen.

Janus catches the adjustment in my posture. A self-satisfied smirk tugs at his lips.

‘Is that all then?’ I ask.

‘Not yet, no,’ Janus says, recrossing his legs so that the right one is on top. ‘You’re right. I do have a guess, but that’s the fun of it. Haven’t you ever had a hypothesis you’re itching to test?’

‘I have. Though mine don’t usually involve leading my subject in circles until I’m proven correct.’

Janus pretends to be offended, opening his mouth as his eyebrows draw together in a mimicry of hurt. ‘I would never.’

‘Yes, you would, actually.’

‘Okay fine, I totally enjoy doing that,’ Janus immediately concedes with a smug smile, ‘but that’s to prove a point. This is to test a theory of mine. Completely different. I’m honestly shocked you can’t tell the difference.’

'Care to share your theory, then?’ I ask.

‘Fine,’ Janus sighs dramatically, ‘though it’s less fun that way.’ His fingers begin to drum again, aligning with the beat of the clock ticking from somewhere I cannot quite place.

A few seconds pass. Then longer. A minute and a half go by. Janus is thinking, I can see it in the way his lips twitch every so often. I imagine he’s wording and rewording his pitch behind his closed mouth.

‘Well?’

‘I think that deep down, you believe humans are good,’ Janus says all at once. There’s an anticipation behind his eyes but I can’t see through him well enough to understand why.

I feel my face fall flat. I raise an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

'Is this a roundabout way of insulting my intelligence?’ I ask without much amusement. I feel like the trap he’s setting is closing in on me. He is going to prod and poke until he gets to laugh at me for something. I can feel it. I want to leave, but I’m not so weak to give in just yet.

‘Why would it be?’ Janus asks without answering, head tilting in intrigue.

I pause to think of a good way to support my claim. I level him with a sharper stare. ‘Do you believe humans are good?’

Janus barks out a laugh, looking excited. ‘Turning it on me now? How coy, but this was about you. Unlike many things which are and should be focused on me, I want this to be about you, untainted by my little old opinion. But let’s pretend I did answer, what would that prove?’

'I think you don’t believe humans are good, if I had to make an instinctive guess,’ I say before faltering.

‘And?’

'And by implying that I believe the opposite of you …’ I trail off to my own frustration. It’s hard to get out the words. I feel like I’m being led across a tight rope with a blindfold on. Each step is a gamble.

Janus smirks, leaning back in his seat. ‘You believe that I might believe humanity is bad, and if like I stated previously, you think humanity is good, I think you are wrong. And we just can’t have that, can we?’

I grit my teeth. ‘…yes.’

'Cute. So this whole little game is just a dig at you. A joke. A fun little riddle where the answer is that you are secretly an idiot. Irrational. Biased. Blinded. Wrong,’ Janus says, counting on his fingers as he comes up with different words to describe me as a fool.

'Your track record does you no favors,’ I say lowly.

‘I suppose not,’ Janus shrugs, ‘but no. You’re harder to lead that way compared to the others. I have a different point to make today. Can you guess my next step, darling?’

I glare at him, but I do understand where he’s going with this. ‘Your first question.’

Janus smirks, fingers drumming once more. ‘If I had a cookie, I’d give it to you.’

'Save it.’

‘Do you remember the question in question,’ Janus asks, his finger drumming picking up the pace, losing some of its rhythm in is excitement.

'You asked if I thought I was a good person,’ I say, refusing to look at him. My heart rate quickens. I don’t let my agitation show. Janus is clever, but he’s no mind reader. He’s no god.

‘If you think humans in general are good—’

'Which we have not established—’

'Then do you think you’re a good human?’ Janus finished; eyes fixed on my every move.

‘I’m not even human.’ I say.

‘Don’t bullshit me, darling,’ Janus says, his smug smile boring into my chest.

‘Then I don’t know. It doesn’t matter enough for me to have decided. I am not human, and even if I considered myself one, it doesn’t matter. It’s subjective. It’s pointless. Am I good or bad? I don’t have an answer. I’m afraid you’ll have to manage without one.’

‘I think,’ Janus began slowly, ‘that you refuse to answer. Even in your innermost thoughts. Because if you do decide, you’ll have to face something much larger than something as simple as good or bad.’

‘And what would that be?’ I demand.

‘If you were a good person, why would you be treated the way you are? And if you’re a bad person, then you deserve what you’re becoming despite what he says—'

My vision goes black as soon as I register what Janus is talking about.

‘You don’t deserve it. You deserve better. You deserve to fight it. Good people aren’t bad for defending themselves. Let me handle it.’

Stop. Stop. Shut up. I’m not doing this. Stay back.

‘Please.’

Shut up.

‘I think you’re good.’

It doesn’t matter.

‘Good people deserve better.’

Good people aren’t real.

‘Let me out.’

You’re just my own thoughts. There is nothing to release.

‘Please, Logan?’

‘This is pointless,’ I say to Janus, standing and sinking out of the room before he could object.

[a-rat-called-remus]

Logan's Criminal

Ships: Intrulogical (Logan x Remus)

CHAPTER ONE

Logan Frost was a detective in a high end city chasing a criminal no one knew

He had just gotten home to his shared apartment and slammed the door hard as he was frustrated he didn't know if his roommate was home but he didn't care he was just so frustrated that anything could be the thing that makes Logan yell for the seventh time that day.

Not even a second had passed before Remus entered the room concerned but not quite surprised as this had become normal for him, Logan trudging into the apartment slamming the door hard behind him every afternoon after work.

Remus stepped further into the living room and watched as Logan collapsed onto the couch before looking over at him and sighing

"I apologize if I disturbed you" Logan says as his eyes flickered up to Remus'.

Remus nods "It's fine, don't worry about it. Rough day at work?" he walks over to the couch taking a seat in the middle of the couch

Logan nodded "yes this guy or girl I'm chasing is to smart for me like every time I think I get close they get fifty steps ahead" he ranted messing with his tie

Remus nods, staring at Logan hanging onto every word he says, listening intently as he ranted.

Logan let out a frustrated sigh "they stopped using there calling card so now i have no clue if im even chasing the right person" Remus nods along to every word.

"Mm.." Remus responded shortly, his eyes drifted off in another direction a knot twisted in his stomach tightening with each word.

Logan looks at the floor "it's like he knows everything I'm thinking and it's just frustrating"

Remus stared at him. His mind racing.He wanted so badly to tell him. To tell him why. Why they were fifty steps ahead. Why they seem to know everything. "Yeah. Sounds rough.." he mutters instead as his eyes drifting back to Logan's.

Logan took a deep breath "the only person I know it's not is you" he mumbled.

Remus' body stiffened.

He started fiddling with his hands. "Yeah..."

Logan decided to lean his head on Remus "even if it was you I'd have to make a difficult choice to make"

Remus glances back at him. "Oh..." Is all he said, what was he supposed to say to that? He could barely meet his eyes let alone tell him. Tell him that he was the cause of all his stress, all the angry door slams, the exhaustion.

He subconsciously placed an arm around Logan.

Remus nods not quite meeting Logan's eyes. "What would you have to do?" He asks hesitantly. Already knowing the answer. Dreading it.

"Well I'd either have to turn you in or realize that I should just give up" he said with a sad tone

"Well, you shouldn't worry, you need a well needed break, try to relax." He says quickly attempting to subtly change the subject.

Logan nodded a little "I can't take time off from this case to be honest I'd rather lose my job than anything" he mumbled yawning a little.

"Did you know you have pretty eyes?" Logan mumbles as he looks at Remus.

Remus turns to face Logan the question catching him off guard. He stared directly at him as his cheeks flushed a light pink.

Logan chuckled at the expression on his face "Thanks Remus for always being someone to talk to" he said as he reached to fiddle with the others hair

Remus smiles faintly. The guilt was back. Stronger this time. Washing over him in waves. "Hey. It's no problem, Logan. I'm always here to listen." He responds shortly. Not what he wanted to say but it was good enough for now.He inches closer to Logan.

Logan had closed his eyes leaning against Remus "Are you a criminal rem?" He asked randomly

Remus looks at Logan his whole body tensing.

Fuck. He couldn't know.. Could he? He was so careful..

"What?" He asked quietly, his heart sinking.

Next Chapter

[lovelylogans]

calling all tss fanfiction readers!

hello, fellow sanders sides fans!

have you ever been curious about the habits of your fellow fanfic readers? got some opinions on favorite ships, aus, or what makes and breaks a fic? leave your comments here!

it's a 40 question survey asking a variety of questions about your fanfiction preferences. i would appreciate it if you took and reblogged this post to increase the sample size!

results will be posted on my blog in one big post; let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[prodigal-explorer]

my dearest little prince (i)

(roman sanders hurt/comfort, cw for extreme self deprecation and janus dropping truth. features sympathetic janus!)

“My dearest little prince…what’s happened to you?”

Roman’s hollow eyes, darkened from sleep deprivation, were squeezed shut, tears spilling out the sides and down his cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to know. Not even Janus’ tender, lulling voice could pull him out of this panic.

“Baby, come here. Please. Let me help you. Let me hold you.”

Janus’ words were practically hypnotic to the tired, desperate young prince. Roman was so tired of being used, so tired of being an object. All he wanted was to be loved, just like everyone else, but it seemed that no matter what he did, no matter what positions he bent himself into, he could never change himself enough. He was still too Roman. Maybe his actions weren’t the problem, after all. Maybe Roman himself was to blame. Everything about him, after all, was wrong, no matter what he did and how he did it. Roman could feel his mind turn to fuzz, Janus’ words and form growing farther and farther away as he enveloped himself in a meager attempt at self-protection. After all, Roman had long learned that he couldn’t trust anybody else to protect him from anything.

This had to be a trap. It just had to be.

“When was the last time you ate?” Janus whispered, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. The prince flinched back, but Janus persisted, too anxious to be sensitive. “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. You’ve always been so fragile. And lately, it feels like you’ve just been floating away.”

“Yeah?” Roman whispered, his voice seething with hurt. “I wonder why.”

Janus blinked, and tilted his head, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, darling?” he asked gently.

“Maybe I should float away,” Roman mumbled thickly as his tears started to suffocate him. “You all would like it so much better if I was gone. You play tricks on me to make me shut up or look stupid, you use me for your own agendas without even caring about mine, and then you betray me when all I ever wanted to do was help my friends! I wanted to be a prince, I wanted to be honorable and chivalrous, but- but what’s the point if it always ends with me alone? I’m the least favorite side, Janus. The least favorite. The least amount of fans like me, and the most amount of fans hate me.”

“That’s-…that’s not fair, Roman,” Janus whispered, but Roman interjected before Janus could continue.

“Maybe it is fair,” he snapped, “Someone has to be. Maybe it should be me. After all, I am the evil twin. No matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try, people only care about the bad stuff I did, and none of the good stuff I’m doing. What’s the point of trying anymore? What’s the point of anything?”

Roman tried to keep ranting, but a whimper cut him off, and as he realized the weight of everything he was saying, he started to sob. He felt like he was being crushed under the weight of the situation. Never in his entire life had the little prince felt so helpless.

Janus took the opportunity to talk. He tried to hide his anger, not towards Roman, but towards everyone and everything that caused Roman to believe such terrible things were actually true. Himself included.

“My precious little one,” Janus murmured, carefully pulling Roman’s limp and trembling limbs into a hug. “You are not evil. Evil people don’t worry about whether or not they’re evil. Evil people don’t cry as you do now. You are so, so good, my darling. And I’m sorry that nobody has told you that. I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone for so long. You try harder than anybody I know. You are so ready to learn and change that sometimes I worry that you’ll lose yourself one day and never find it again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Roman muttered to Janus’ chest.

“Of course it would!” Janus scolded gently, starting to rhythmically pet Roman’s curly hair and support his delicate form. “Roman, you are so special. You’re so…beautiful. I’ve never met anybody else who sees the world the way you do, with such wonder. With such color. You sing when no audience is around to applaud you. You speak to things that can’t speak back. You care so much about everything. You care more than anybody I’ve ever met.”

There was silence and stillness in the room for a very long time, not a sound except for occasional sniffling from Roman. And then, the creative side fully launched himself into Janus’ arms, letting his sorrow carry him as he melted into Janus’ secure, but gentle hold, sobbing into his shoulder and letting Janus support his weight, trusting him to keep him upright.

“My baby…my sweet baby,” Janus whispered, “You’ve been hurting for a long time, haven’t you?”

Roman couldn’t speak. He couldn’t act, he couldn’t ask for more than this. For so long, he had been trying to act more mature, so he could be taken more seriously. But it felt so good to just cry, and be a child again, even if just for a moment. Janus seemed to innately know that Roman needed this. Maybe Janus cared more than Roman thought.

[virgils-angels]

Reverting back to my sanders sides phase and I vividly remember a fanfic where virgil is a villain and roman is a hero. But virgil doesn't have powers so he builds like machines n stuff I think??? Patton and logan run a bakery in it and I fancy a reread. Does anyone in this dying fandom remember what it is 🙏🙏

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Escapism in Yellow (MERRY CHRISTMAS @remuspenus)

[pencilpat]

You Do Not Have to be Good - moceit

Patton hates alcohol. Not particularly for a moral reason, it just tastes godawful to him. But he came to Janus's room for a distraction, and goshdarnit he'll take it. He cringes through a sip as they sit on the floor, and Janus laughs.

"Oh, Patton, it's cider. Barely any alcohol at all, and you can barely stomach even that." As if to prove a point, Janus swings back his bottle and takes a sip so large he gulps audibly. Patton can't help a small giggle, even as bad as he feels.

"Gosh, Jan, I don't know how you and Logan handle this stuff."

"Simple. We're not man-babies."

Patton laughs and lightly punches Janus's shoulder, coaxing the smallest of smiles from the other man. He settles back against the wall. Janus isn't used to guests, aside from one who isn't a fan of sitting 'properly,' so he has no chairs strewn around his room the way the light sides do.

Janus tilts the liquid around in his bottle with a sigh. "Care to tell me what brought you to me today? My room isn't exactly one of our typical 'spots'."

"Oh! Oh, nothing special or anything, just checking up on you," he says, flashing a winning smile.

"How many times are we going to visit each other before you remember you can't lie to me?" Janus states bluntly, not looking at Patton at all, his eyes fixed on the blank wall across from them.

"Whu- uh- lying? I'm not-"

"How many times will I have to say that sentence? You can not follow 'you can't lie to me' up with a lie, Patton, that's not how this works."

"Look I- I don't really want to talk about it. I came to hang out with you, I don't wanna just-"

"So you're going to talk to one of the others then, yes?" Janus's eyes flit over the fading dark blue in Patton's hair. "How about Logan? I'm sure he'd totally be helpful here, I mean, being so good with his emotions."

Patton frowns at him and Janus sighs, rewording. "All I mean is, you don't talk to anyone else, so it stands to reason that if I don't get you to spit it out, you'll keep 'doing your thing' and only ever talking about how you feel at a surface level while letting the pressure below build and build until you blow up. Am I wrong?"

Patton blinks at him, and then turns away, curling his legs up towards his body and squeezing his free hand's nails into his palm. He's taken to doing that lately, though he doesn't know why. Someone says something that hurts, and he digs his nails deep into his skin or bites his lip so hard it bleeds, then the pain is gone. Dig, dig, gone. "That's not very kind, Janus."

Janus shrugs. The sun is beginning to set, and the room is going golden, the dark walls being cast in the shadows of Janus's blinds. "If someone was never anything but kind, they'd be a liar. I don't want to lie to you forever."

"You don't?"

"Oh wow, yeah, sound shocked about that, sure." Janus rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look angry. "Patton, it's stupid to keep going like you are. Look, if anyone can keep secrets, it's you and me - I'm the best one to talk to here. None of the others seem smart enough to notice how messed up you've been."

Patton cringes, and takes a drink of his cider, which makes him cringe harder. "I'm not... that bad, am I? That obvious?"

"It's pretty bad, dad," Janus sighs. He finally looks at the other man, meeting his eyes. "I promise, okay? And I don't do that lightly. I won't speak a word of whatever is bothering you."

Patton's brow furrows, and he breathes out slowly. He digs his nails into his palm again. Breathes again. Just the offer of talking is threatening to bust down year old dams, but perhaps Janus is right, and this needs to happen. And... he did promise. He's never done that before.

"It's not exactly simple to explain... I guess it's just- it's like- I'm-" Patton sighs, frustrated. "I just don't know anymore if- if I'll ever get it right."

"Right?"

"Being morality. Being... good." Patton's voice strains, and he wipes at his face. "I don't know if I can ever be good, be good enough, be good at my job. I've been messing up nearly everything lately! I can't keep Thomas good, and when I do try to keep him good, I end up being an overbearing jerk. I can't seem to make Roman happy, or Virgil anymore, and," Patton plays with the fringe tips of blue in his hair, almost subconsciously, "I can't make Logan feel good either. We used to be so, so close. Worked through all of our issues, we were really good friends! But he's been so- look, I know he says he doesn't feel anything, but I can tell he's feeling something! And he won't tell any of us about it."

Janus drinks, reserving information as he always does. Patton is upset enough, now's not the time.

"All I've ever wanted was to be good," his voice breaks, and he clears his throat, blinking back hot tears. "Ever since I've existed, I've wanted to be good. What would it mean for Thomas if his morality isn't good?! Maybe you were right, I'm just pointing him towards hell. I'm not doing my job right. How can I be messing up so much? I used to be the one who the others looked at to know everything..." He bites his lip hard, but it doesn't do anything this time. He's crying now, wiping the sleeve of his cat hoodie across his face furiously.

"Who says you have to be good?"

"What?"

Janus sighs, sipping his drink. "'You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.' Mary Oliver. Goodness isn't necessary one hundred and twenty-five percent of the time. You're an animal like any other, and you only need do what makes you happy, just like any other. You're not some divine being above the ability to screw up or be sad."

"You and Thomas's religious sensibilities are very tied together. You're stuck on this idea that as morality, you can only ever have good and pure ideas. You can never make mistakes, and you can never be wrong. Look, sure, we're no humans, but you're a piece of a human, and they're kind of renowned for their mistake making. I've told you before, Patton. If you're making a genuine effort to do better, then your apologies mean enough. You've repented. You didn't even need to, but you do anyway. Because you're good, as much as a side can be. You're so good you make me sick sometimes. I was being a dick when I said you're pointing him towards hell, being a dick is kind of my thing. I don't think you're even capable of knowingly being a bad person."

Patton feels tears pour down his face, staring sightlessly at his bottle as Janus rants. He's drawn blood from his lip. The words are making some deep piece of him ache worse than he has in years. Without thinking, he sets his head on Janus's shoulder. Janus barely blinks, leaning into him as he continues.

"You do make the others happy, Patton. They love you so much it's gross. But they have issues as well. Issues that are getting worse as Thomas's mental health is plummeting. All pieces of Thomas have gripes and qualms right now, I don't understand you all's strange insistence on everything being fine. Want me to lie? Everything is just fine! Why, nothing is eating at any of you, and you're at the peak of your lives!" Janus sighs, eyes closing. "It's okay to experience pain, you know. It doesn't make you bad. Nor does making mistakes. It makes you a living thing, as caught up in your own world and worries as every other living thing. You're doing okay, Patton. You'll never be perfect, but I watch you do everything you can every day. For crying out loud, let that soft animal of 'you' catch a break."

Patton sniffs, letting out a shaking sigh. "Why does hearing all that hurt me?"

"Because you've never heard it before, probably. Has anyone, ever, at all, told you to give yourself a break?"

"I... I guess not, not really. I don't know. I don't feel like I deserve it."

"I say you deserve it. If you won't listen to yourself, listen to me. Listen to a... friend."

Patton nearly physically startles at that word coming from Janus. "Friend?"

"If you make me repeat myself we're never having these visits again, watch it."

"We're friends?" Patton lifts his head, grinning despite his tear streaked face. Janus makes a frustrated noise, his face going red, but he lets Patton hug him nonetheless. Patton laughs, despite it all, holding Janus against his chest. The parts of his heart that were aching feel suddenly wrapped in warmth, like a heating pad on a pained muscle. And as Janus sets aside his drink and properly returns the hug, Patton's heart feels so many things, but mostly, at least for now, it feels at peace.

"Are you going to actually give yourself a rest, or did literally all of that go in one ear and out the other?"

Patton laughs. "Thanks, Janus. Really, thank you. Um. Not going to tell anyone still, right?"

"Of course," Janus places a hand on his heart and holds the other up in a pledge. "We both have trouble verbalizing emotions anyways."

"Can't say I'm surprised! Get it? Can't say?"

"Yes, Patton, I got it," Janus rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You know I just hate puns."

"Liar liar!"