#either Patton or Janus gave him cake

[prodigal-explorer]

evening star - sanders sides fanfiction - iii

(let me know if you want to be on the tag list!)

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word count: 2.5k

(cw -> whump, unsympathetic!patton, unsympathetic!virgil, cages, physical abuse, stress position, broken bones, manipulation, pet whump, muzzles, starvation, dehumanization, violence, collars, blood)

summary: roman's punishment is finally over, but it doesn't take long for him to get in trouble again. but the last thing roman expects as he sits trapped in this cycle of pain is for janus to discover him mid-punishment, and to have mercy on the creative side.

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Roman didn’t know how long he had been in the cage. Usually, he was able to keep track of the days because Patton or Virgil would come in with food once a day, but since he had the muzzle on, there wasn’t much point if he wasn’t eating what was in front of him. 

Eventually, footsteps could be heard, and when the door opened, Roman gasped behind the muzzle and sat up, trying once again to look as good and sweet as possible. Virgil opened the door and pulled Roman out of the cage by his collar. 

“Have you learned your lesson, mutt?” Virgil asked. 

Roman nodded rapidly, and Virgil let go of his collar, instead undoing the muzzle. Roman let out a shaky breath of relief. 

“Are you hungry?” Virgil asked. 

Yes. Roman couldn’t find the words to express how hungry he was, so he simply nodded again, even more desperately. 

Virgil hummed softly in thought, and pulled out the food that had been set out for him on the first day. 

“Hmm…three days ago,” he said, “This should still be good. And if it’s not? That’s a you problem.” 

Roman remembered at one point that Logan told him not to leave meat out at room temperature, even if it was cooked. It had to be either cold, or warm for it to be safe to eat, and if it was left out for too long, it would go bad. 

But honestly, Roman was too hungry to care. He leaned down and ate the chicken, wanting to use his hands for ease of access, but that was against the rules. Puppies didn’t eat with their hands. 

When Roman finished with his chicken, he then moved on to his peas. Nothing in the bowl was seasoned, but at least it didn’t taste bad. The last thing in the bowl was the red candy. Patton had always trained him to save dessert for last, even though it was his favorite course. Roman had an undeniable sweet tooth, whether it was candy, cookies, cake, or anything else with sugar. And especially nowadays, it was a very rare treat. 

So Roman ate the candy without a second thought. 

The candy was red in color, so Roman assumed that it was strawberry or cherry flavored, maybe raspberry. But right off the bat, it tasted different. It was warm and spicy. At first, it tasted good. Cinnamon. Roman liked cinnamon. But as he sucked on it, it started to get hotter and hotter. 

Roman could tolerate spicy stuff pretty well. He enjoyed stuff with hot sauce and the like. But this was just too much. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he spit the candy back into the bowl. 

Virgil looked over as he heard that. 

“You ungrateful little thing,” he glowered as he walked towards Roman, “Patton worked hard to make you that. He even gave you a little candy because he knows that’s your favorite. I’m not going to bring this back with a single food uneaten. You’ll eat this, or it’s another five days in the cage without any food at all. Got it?” 

Roman was frozen for a moment, but he looked back down at the candy. He could do this. It was a better prospect than being in the cage for five whole days. He carefully picked up the candy between his teeth, and instead of sucking on it, he crunched on it so it would be gone faster. The searing heat only intensified, as a liquidy center that seemed to be pure spice gushed out of the candy. 

When Roman finally choked it down, he was in tears, and his face felt like it was on fire. He felt the urge to throw up, but he desperately forced himself not to. Last time he threw up, he didn’t get fed for two and a half weeks. That had been the worst he’d ever felt. He couldn’t even move by the end of the second week. 

And that made Patton and Virgil even madder. 

There were many times that Roman just felt helpless. He was in a spiral of trouble and punishments and anger, pain and injury. No matter what he did, it upset somebody, and no matter what decision he made, it ended with him suffering. It was hard to find the motivation to keep going, but what choice did he have? If he just laid down and stopped moving or reacting to anything Patton and Virgil said, he would probably get the biggest punishment of his life. 

Sometimes, when that thought crossed his mind, Roman realized that he didn’t even care. And that was what scared him the most. 

All Roman could do was hope that one day, this horrible game would be over. He could just be Roman again instead of “Puppy”, and he could be Creativity instead of being a pet. But considering how much fun Virgil and Patton seemed to be having with him, Roman didn’t see it happening anytime soon. 

“Come on,” Virgil said gruffly, “Let’s go visit Patton. He has some things he wants you to do.” 

Roman was quick to follow Virgil out of the room, glad to escape the suffocating darkness that Virgil’s room held. He immediately felt more like himself as he crawled down the hallway, but not enough so to be able to break out of the habits that Patton had trained into him. Roman wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to standing on two legs again if this ended. When he had to when delivering the cookies for Janus, he could barely hold himself upright for a few minutes. It felt strange and foreign now. 

“There’s my puppy!” Patton said excitedly, “Come here, Ro-Ro! I missed you so much!” 

Roman bounded towards Patton as quickly as he could, infinitely relieved that Patton didn’t sound mad or upset with him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately as he nuzzled up to Patton’s soft and warm hand. “I’m sorry, I’ll never mess up your room again.” 

“It’s okay, cutie, I promise. As long as you never, ever do it again!” 

Patton tapped Roman’s nose gently before lifting him up onto the couch. Patton wasn’t very tall or strong, but Roman made himself as easy to pick up as possible, and Patton got the hang of it quickly. Roman was very glad to be on the couch, because it meant that Patton was happy with him, and it was also such a welcome change to the cold, hard metal of the cage that dug into his skin at all angles. 

There was a TV show on, and Patton and Virgil were both watching it. A cooking show. Roman found himself quite interested, considering that his stomach was still growling wildly. The small meal in the bowl hadn’t been enough, but it was better than nothing, so Roman refused to complain. 

As the show continued, and the three sides watched a woman make her grandmother’s tomato soup recipe, Patton blinked, as if remembering something. 

“Oh! Roman! I wanted to ask,” Patton said, “Why didn’t you clean up your room?” 

Roman’s breath caught in his throat. 

“I…I forgot,” he admitted. Honesty was the best policy. “I was so busy doing everything else, and since I’ve been sleeping in your room-” 

“I don’t like excuses, puppy,” Patton warned, “Janus came in a few days ago to your room, and got real angry when he saw what a mess it was.” 

“Angry?” Roman whispered, “Why was he angry?” 

Roman wondered if maybe it was because the blood on the floor was concerning. It wasn’t like any of the other sides were beaten, bruised, muzzled, or caged. Only Roman. Maybe Janus didn’t like that Roman was a pet now. Maybe Janus would help Roman get out of this. 

“Oh, why?” Patton repeated, “He was angry because…well, he thought you could do more with a space that’s entirely your own and all. He didn’t realize that Thomas has two faulty Creativities instead of one.” 

Roman’s heart sank. 

“He was frankly horrified when he saw how awful your room looks,” Patton continued, “You have no excuse to have a place so messy. I need you to go in and clean right this second, or else you won’t like what happens next.” 

Roman shuddered and hopped off the couch, crawling to his room with urgency. He had to fix what he had done, he knew this. When Virgil stomped on him repeatedly, when Patton carved shapes into his side with a knife. The bloodstains were all Roman’s fault for being a bad, bad pet. The mess looked practically nauseating when Roman saw it for a second time. How did he let it get this bad? 

He started to scrub the blood with cleaning supplies, despite his fatigue. His ribs ached, and he was still so hungry. But he had no choice but to continue. What else was there to do? 

When the bedroom door opened and Roman wasn’t finished, he knew he was in for it. Virgil’s black Converse circled around Roman as he continued to scrub, desperately trying to get all the blood off the carpet. 

“You think this is your little act of rebellion?” Virgil asked, his tone light and teasing, “That you can sit here and scrub so slowly that it won’t do anything? Nobody cares that little Princey got hurt. You brought that upon yourself, and nobody is going to save you.” 

Roman continued to scrub, faster and faster as tears already wetted his face. He used to be able to go a while without crying, but when Patton and Virgil spoke harshly now, Roman went into a panic immediately, knowing that physical pain was going to follow. 

And today was no different. 

Virgil grabbed Roman’s arm and twisted it, wrenching it as far as it would go. The skin twisted painfully, and Virgil kept going farther and farther until Roman screamed for help. When he did that, Virgil let him go, letting Roman drop to the ground before violently kicking his mouth a few times with his black Converse. 

The metallic taste of blood started to invade Roman’s mouth, and he spit out something solid. A tooth. The sight was dizzying. 

But Virgil wasn’t done. He wasn’t done until Roman was crumpled on the floor, his entire body overtaken by pain and fatigue. It hurt to breathe, as Roman saw flashes of Virgil picking him up and throwing him onto the ground. Over and over. He looked right into Virgil’s eyes as he felt a sickening snap in his arm. He wasn’t going to be able to do much scrubbing now. 

When Virgil was finally finished, he admired his work before strapping the muzzle back onto Roman, and tying his hands behind his back, wrenching his broken arm into an even more uncomfortable position. Roman rested on the floor, crying, as he stared at the bloodstain that had been growing darker by the day. 

When the door slammed, Roman flinched, and he let out a muffled cry as his arm screamed at the way it was tied. Roman knew that it was more than likely dislocated now, but there was nothing he could do now. He couldn’t even stand up on his own. It was even worse knowing that in this state, there was nothing he could do about his bedroom. It was still a complete mess, as Roman had only finished cleaning about half the stain. 

It wasn’t fair. Virgil hadn’t given him enough time. 

But then again, maybe it was fair. Roman didn’t know how much time had passed since he first started cleaning. Maybe it had been hours. He didn’t have a clock in his room. And ever since the punishments started and the time in the cage had started, time felt strange. And Roman had no idea how to tell whether minutes, hours, or days had passed.

It was all a mystery. 

But even so, Roman wondered why Virgil and Patton hadn’t told him when they wanted his room to be cleaned. They could have told him that he had thirty minutes, or an hour, or even two hours. But they didn’t, and Roman was being punished for a rule he didn’t even know about. 

The thought made him dreadfully angry. He knew it was bad to be angry with his owners, but Roman was so tired of being in trouble. He was tired of getting hurt and being muzzled and tied up when he was just trying to be good. 

Fueled by his rage, Roman started to struggle against the rope Virgil had used to tie his hands together, trying to loosen it enough so he could slip out. It was pretty difficult, but Roman refused to give up, and after a long time, and a sickening pop coming from one of his shoulders followed by a nauseating pain, the knot was loose. One of his arms was still rendered unusable, since his arm was broken, and his shoulder was dislocated, but he could still use the other one. 

And use it he did. Roman picked up the scrub brush and continued to clean the floor, determined to get every last drop of blood out of his previously pure white carpet. 

When the door opened again, though, Roman hoped with everything he had that it wasn’t Virgil again. If Virgil saw that he got out of the ropes, he would get even madder. Roman tried not to look behind him, but curiosity took over, and he turned around, bracing himself to be punched or kicked again. 

But what he saw instead made him freeze on the spot as his breathing stopped. 

He was short, though no shorter than Patton. He didn’t wear black Converse like Virgil, or neon New Balances like Patton. He wore classy dress shoes that were polished to perfection. His black cape with golden accents stopped right at his waist, showing off his robust figure, and he looked absolutely horrified. 

And honestly? So did Roman. 

Janus rushed over to Roman and held him upright. Roman expected Janus to be somewhat cold, since he was half-Reptilian, but his skin was warm, and so was his embrace. 

“Roman, darling…” Janus mumbled, “I…I…what’s that on your mouth?” 

Roman shook his head. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one else was supposed to know about this. He couldn’t handle having three owners. He couldn’t handle having someone else against him, someone else ready to punish him for anything. He just sobbed, trying to get away from Janus, but he held onto Roman tightly. 

“Honey, please,” Janus said urgently, “You’re hurt. Your arm…it looks bent. And you’ve- got bruises everywhere. Who…” 

Footsteps. Again. Roman’s panic spiked and he struggled even more, but Janus had another plan. He stood up, holding Roman in his arms, and sunk out of his room, sinking into the dark mindscape. 

“Home sweet home,” Janus mumbled grimly, looking down at Roman, who was losing his mind with fear, “Let’s get you taken care of.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #unsympathetic virgil #unsympathetic patton #ez's writing #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fandom #sanders sides whump #whump writing #whump #cages #physical abuse #violence #muzzles #collars #pet whump #stress position #broken bones #manipulation #starvation #dehumanization #blood #evening star

[logarhythm-bees]

To Unearth and Back Again; ⛅Chapter 4

Chapter Three | Table of Contents | Chapter Five

See ronithesnail's absolutely wonderful art for this story!

Where'd it go? Where'd it go? A perfect case for a private eye I'm searching far and wide So here we go, here we go We're not gonna stop 'til we find what we're missin'

-Where'd it Go, Pipp Petals

A few moments later, they were all sitting at the table, except for Patton, who had shooed everyone out and was trying to fan the smell of burnt packing peanuts out of the kitchen. 

“Do you need help–” Logan started, immediately being cut off by a “Nope!” from the kitchen and some flapping noises. The fan over the stove kicked on with a woosh and a sigh of relief from Patton who emerged a moment later with a couple stacks of pancakes and some various toppings on a serving platter. “Breakfast’s ready!” He cheered. “Here we are, let me just grab some plates.”

Patton handed Logan the platter, which he set carefully on the table as Patton dashed back into the kitchen and out again with the aforementioned dishware, placing a fork, knife and plate in front of each of them. He eyed Remus warily for a moment before giving him the knife, however, but gave him one too, albeit very cautiously and with a careful eye as Patton moved to sit down.

Nobody really talked through the meal. All the noises heard were the clink of silverware and Remus chuckling quietly under his breath.

After breakfast, all the sides but Roman left to go off to their rooms, so Roman took out his sketchbook and started jotting down picnic ideas. He wasn’t planning on a lot of food, but he thought it would be nice to make some tea sandwiches and maybe a couple small cakes for Virgil. Roman wasn’t a practiced chef, but he figured he could manage cutting up some smaller-than-usual sandwiches, and though he’d always liked the idea he certainly wasn’t one for baking; he shuddered at the memory of the time he tried to make a bundt cake and added way too much sugar and chocolate syrup.

“I wanted it to be sweet!” Roman said, looking at the flat mess of unevenly cooked batter.

“I know, Roman,” Logan replied. “But that’s not how baking works. It’s a science. If you mess with the ingredient amounts, it won’t always work out.”

He shoved the memory back into the depths of his brain, shaking it out of his head. Okay, a cake-cake was probably out, but he might be able to handle a mug cake like he’d seen shorts of! They seemed simple enough. And he could put it in Virgil’s favorite mug, too! That sounded like it would be great! 

Roman smiled to himself, opening YouTube on his phone and looking for mug cake recipes. He scrolled through the videos for a while, taking notes on the ones Virgil might like and sketching little pictures of fancy ways he could put ice cream or toppings on them.

He stayed there for a couple hours before a rumble sounded from the stairs, and Roman startled, jumping up from the couch and preparing to fight.

Patton came running frantically into the room, looking down and up and every other which way, and Roman flopped back to his place on the couch. “Janus?” he called. He turned to Roman on the couch, worried. “Have you seen Janus?”

“Nope,” Roman said, popping the P, and looking back to his sketchbook. “He’s probably in his room practicing lying to and manipulating people, or something.”

“I thought he might be in his room, but he wasn’t there,” Patton said, not really processing the jab at Janus as he peeked under the couch cushions. “Janus!” Patton called, even peeking in the glasses on the coffee table. “Where are you?”

“He wasn’t in Thomas’s apartment either,” Logan claimed, rising through the floor with Thomas in tow, and wow, okay, everyone was just interrupting Roman’s quality thinking time today, that was so cool. Absolutely awesome. (Roman was being sarcastic, by the way). 

“I don’t know where he is,” grumbled Roman, “and I was a little bit busy in here, would you mind leaving? Please?”

“Sorry!” Patton said, scurrying out of the room, motioning for Thomas and Logan to follow. “Sorry. I’m just- I’m worried. I haven’t seen him since breakfast, and he usually comes out his room and hangs around with us by now.” 

Roman knew that all too well, having an alarm scheduled on his phone specifically for leaving-the-living-room-before-Janus-came-back time, and he supposed it was a bit odd that Janus hadn’t shown up yet, but also, he didn’t actually really care where Janus was. 

“I don’t know,” Roman groaned again. Check in the cabinet, I don’t know. Can I have my creative time alone now?”

Patton nodded overenthusiastically, pushing Thomas and Logan out of the room. “Of course!” he said, disappearing down the hallway and shouting for Janus again. Roman sighed and put in his headphones, deciding to ignore them for the next few hours.

Seven minutes later, Roman was helping them look, because Virgil had plopped onto the couch next to him and whispered in his ear asking Roman to “Please help me, I know you don’t really want to look for Janus and I don’t really feel like it either, but the nervous energy radiating off of the others is driving me insane. Please, the sooner we find him they can stop and we can all relax.”

So Roman was grumpily making his way around the house, peeking in drawers and under stacks of papers and in baskets of laundry. He dared to peek into the other’s rooms if the doors were open, absolutely not searching around the room, but giving a cursory glance from the doorway and a shout of “Janus?” before closing the door and going back into the hall. He’d checked Logan’s and Remus’s rooms and found nothing, and he hummed, trying to figure out where else to look. He supposed he could check his own bedroom–he doubted Janus would be in there, but he was running out of places to check. And maybe Janus was in there collecting blackmail or dust bunnies or whatever, Roman didn’t know, he didn’t keep an eye on what the mindscape’s local snake was doing.

Armed with a nervous little bit of mostly-unfounded suspicion that Janus was sneaking around his room, Roman flung open his door with a shout. “Janus!” he called, and got no response.

That didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t in there though, Roman though, squinting pensively. 

“Janus!” he called again, looking under the bed. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

“Janus?” he yelled, opening the closet. Nothing out of place in there, either.

“Januuus,” Roman sung, lifting up the pile of blankets on his bed, which did not yield the reveal of a Janus because why would he be in Roman’s bed, that would just be weird. Look, Roman was running out of places to search! He figured he might as well check!

Roman tossed the blankets back on his bed with a sigh, taking a look around the room again. Janus wasn’t in there. Everything was just the same as it was when Roman left it, from what he could see.

Roman took one last look around the room, searching for anything at all that might help him on his seemingly-fruitless quest. He was about to give up and return to aimlessly searching the halls when at last, he spotted it.

It had been easy to miss–a white envelope, positioned neatly on his white pillow, rather reminiscent of a polar bear hiding in the snow. The only reason Roman had even noticed it at all was the neon green wax seal, stark against the spotless winter of his sheets.

Roman walked slowly over to it–there was only one person in the mindscape that would tolerate that shade of green, and he was very good at setting traps. Subtlety was definitely not Remus’s forte, but if he wanted a trap to go undetected until it could strike, he certainly could. It was one of the few things Remus could manage to actually be covert about. 

Tossing a wayward plush into the space between where he stood at the bed, Roman held his breath, absolutely not willing to get caught in another one of his brother’s pranks. It had taken him a week to wash the neon pigment out of his hair last time, and he refused to do that again, especially when he had put so much effort into his hair this morning.

The plush rolled a small distance from where it landed, and seeing that it did not activate any glitter showers or bear traps, Roman crept over to scoop it up and place it gently back on the bed.

“Sorry for using you as a test dummy,” he said to the plushie, a soft red, purple and gold dragon, and gave it a little pat and a kiss on the head. “You know how my brother is.”

“And speaking of my brother, let’s see what he’s done this time,” Roman grimaced, reaching to pick up the envelope. Double checking that it wasn’t set up to start another one of Remus’s crazy Rube-Goldberg contraptions, he took it off the pillow, carefully picking off the “R” wax seal. Whether the R meant to Roman or from Remus, or both, he wasn’t sure, but he supposed that wasn’t the most important thing for him to be concerned with right now. Preparing himself mentally, Roman opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. 

Skimming over the words once, then twice, and then going word-by-word to assure himself that yeah, that was what he was reading, Roman groaned, letting his head fall forwards onto the plushie with a ‘fwomp’ and a crinkle where he’d smushed his face into its wings.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he mumbled into the plush, turning his head. “I’m going to kill him.” 

The plush just crinkled again.

#logicaliciet #lomoceit #qpp prinxiety #prinxiety #to unearth and back again

[shortprince-cos]

Patton's Normal And Totally Not Angsty Birthday

Summary: Patton was fully expecting to spend his birthday with his stuffed animals and pictures instead of actual people, but his famILY had other secret plans.

Warnings: Crying, being alone for an extended period of time, angst, slight innuendo. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Pairings: Platonic DRLAMP (all)

{Masterlist}

~~~~~

Patton was fully expecting to spend his birthday with his stuffed animals and pictures instead of actual people.

It wasn't a far-fetched idea, considering what had happened earlier last year. Everyone was still on their toes from the...fight.

It wasn't a fight though! It was more like a...big disagreement. That kind of maybe split everyone apart and left Patton alone...

But it was fine! Everyone just needed some alone time! Even if it had been awhile - a long while - since the incident. They just needed to think about things, and when they were ready, Patton would apologize and they would hopefully accept!

Hopefully...

Patton turned in his bed again, trying to sleep for the umpteenth time that night.

He sighed and eventually sat up, glancing at the clock. It said it was 4:16 in the morning, now it was technically January fifteenth.

Happy birthday to him.

Patton wiped the tears off his face and put on his glasses and his cat hoodie. Well, if it was his birthday, he might as well have a cupcake and make a wish. He'd probably need it, to be fully honest.

Patton meandered through the hallway, glancing at everyone's different colored doors. Everyone was probably asleep.

He remembers when it used to be just three doors in the hallway. Just Morality, Creativity, and Logic. Was it simpler then? Or were they just living in ignorance?

"No one knows you better than yourself, am I right, Tony?"

"I know big words too! Ssssssaxophone-"

"Who knows what'll happen if you don't adopt them, and they need a good home!"

"Anything he darn well pleases!"

...Maybe he was the only one not taking things seriously. They say ignorance is...better to live in, and Patton was basically swimming in it before his wake up call.

"We need actual contributions from you, now and then."

Is that why this happened? Maybe he's been ignorant of all the actual dilemmas this entire time. That's how everything went wrong! He didn't just suddenly not know what to do, he never knew what to do! He just hid it with jokes and puns and silly commentary to 'lighten the mood', but really he was just a distraction from their actual problems.

Patton hugged himself as he stood in the hallway, surrounded by the doors of his friends. Well, if they still wanted to be his friend.

Patton glanced at the dark purple door in the hall, cringing at the memories that came with it.

"Now Anxiety, if you don't want to participate, you can just sit this one out."

"Awww you poor little anxious baby!"

"And what about Anxiety, he always seems to get you down."

Patton swiped his tears away, hurriedly making his way down the hall to the staircase.

Janus didn't have a door here yet; he said he'd rather stay with the others in the hidden side of the mindscape.

Probably because of how awful they all were to him.

"Deceit, standing in the spot of one of my four best friends."

"Um, you're in my spot."

"Because Thomas gave his word, but you wouldn't know anything about words, would'ja mister?"

"I may be amphibian, but I can't say that I am fibbin'!"

God, they were so terrible to him. No wonder he doesn't like being around any of them.

Patton's hands shook as he gripped the banister at the top of the stairs, holding in his silent sobs.

All of this is his fault. He caused the rift in his famILY.

Suddenly he heard voices from downstairs. Wasn't everyone in bed? It was four in the morning, who would be up right now?

Patton wiped the tears off his face for the umpteenth time and took deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

He stalked down the top stairs slowly, trying to listen in onto what the voice was saying.

"Listen," A voice whispered. "I'm just pointing out all the possibilities."

"More like all the negabilities, seeing how all of them are negative." Another snarked.

"Just- does he even wanna see us? We basically ghosted him for months. We didn't even include him on the Nico situation. Why didn't we do that, he's the heart! He's like, the most important side for that!"

Oh. They were talking about him.

Patton debated leaving, going down there, or keep on listening before another voice spoke up.

"I doubt he would not wish to see us. If anything, I believe he would like to talk about what happened."

"Logan, we're talking about Patton here. If we talk, he'll just say he's fine when he's clearly not fine."

"That's not true." One obviously lied.

So all four of them were downstairs talking about him. Wait, isn't there supposed to be five-

"Hi Potty-cakes!" Remus suddenly shouted from behind him.

Patton shrieked in surprise, before almost tumbling down the stairs before someone caught him.

"Pat! Are you okay?!" Virgil said, slowly helping Patton to his feet.

"Y-Yeah, I'm perfect!" He said, plastering his Patton-ted fake smile.

Virgil squinted at him. "Pat, have you been crying?"

Ah. Guess the smile didn't work.

Patton noticed that everyone was crowded around him, including Janus, which meant that lying was out of the question.

"Uh- kinda?" Another smile.

Someone swore under their breath as Logan spoke up. "Patton, what are you doing awake at this hour? Don't you normally get up at seven?"

Patton stood up straightly instead of leaning on Virgil. "Oh, I just woke up and couldn't fall back asleep! What're you guys...?" Patton started as he finally looked around the room, noticing the balloons, streamers, and a banner that they had used for every birthday Patton had had.

"...doing?" He finished.

"Uh-" Roman started. "Well uh- we were kind of...surprising you with a birthday party?" He shrugged nervously.

Patton stood shocked for a moment. They were throwing him a surprise birthday party? Why? Why would they do that- weren't they mad at him? There's no way they would just suddenly not be mad at him! What was happening?!

"Pat, what's wrong?" Janus suddenly asked, putting a gloved hand on Patton's shoulder.

"I'm fine, why?" He answered on instinct.

"Padre, you're crying." Roman explained.

Patton touched his cheek, and sure enough, he was crying. "O-Oh. I guess I am."

Another hand gripped his wrist. "Pop-star, are you okay?" Virgil asked with concern and sincerity in his voice.

Patton immediately started sobbing. "No, no I'm not."

Some tentacles wrapped around him from behind - probably Remus - as a bunch of arms started surrounding him as well, securely trapping him in a hug.

Patton kept crying into someone's shoulder as multiple people kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Eventually, Patton had stopped crying, just enjoying the feeling of a hug - a hug! - surrounding him.

Then, they started pulling away, leaving Patton with traces of warmth left over.

"Patton, are you alright?" Logan asked with concern in his eyes.

Patton rubbed at his eyes again and sniffled. "Y-Yeah. I'm just overwhelmed, I guess. I kinda expected to spend today alone..."

Everyone made a noise of either surprise or concern.

"Patton I..." Roman started, looking at the ground in guilt. "I didn't mean to make you feel alone, I just-" He sighed. "I talked to De-Janus, and he helped me realize that it wasn't like you were trying to make me the bad guy, you were just trying to tell me that Janus wasn't one either. So, I planned a party to apologize to you, and well, I guess the surprise is ruined."

Patton immediately hugged Roman the minute he stopped talking. Roman chuckled, but Patton could hear the tears in his voice.

"I'm- I'm so sorry I-"

"Shh, don't be." Roman comforted. "We all forgive you."

After another minute of hugging, Logan cleared his throat.

"While this moment is very touching and much needed, it is currently almost five in the morning, so I suggest we all take a nap before we get into the festivities."

Everyone made noises of agreement, when Patton interrupted.

"Um- could we-?" Patton started before cutting himself off.

"What's up, Pat?" Virgil asked.

"Uh- I-I just thought that maybe we could..."

"Cuddle on the couch?" Janus finished with a smirk on his face.

Patton nodded with blush on his face.

"Ooo sexy~"

"Remus, I swear to all things princely-" Roman started before the twins started arguing and Logan had to break them up before they could brawl in the living room.

Eventually, everyone on the was cuddled up on the couch and snuggling in one way or another, and Patton couldn't be more content.

~~~~~

Whoo! I finished on time!!!!!!!! I'm so proud of myself for writing this in one day! Though, I think it's a bit rushed, I forgive myself for that tho because it was written in one day lol

Ty for reading! I really enjoyed writing Patton angst again lol!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dle @tranquil-space-ninja @artsy-enby09 @lugooble @sander-crossing @disney-princess-patton @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #patton angst #platonic drlamp #pattons birthday #ts patton #patton sanders #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus

[agerestorybits]

morality abandoned.

(Themes of verbal abuse and neglect) 

(please informing me if I need to correct the tags, thank you.)

Patton used to be taken care of. Roman and Virgil would take turns watching him but now…

Patton was little hugging his stuffed cat that he got from Roman and knocked on Roman’s door only to be ignored again. “Ro?” He called softly, clearly little. Still Roman refused him enterary.

So he left to go check if Virgil would talk to him again. It was unlikely but still he would hope before going back to bed to cry for the remainder of his time little then pick himself back up, move on and try to fix things.

Even if it never worked.

He was halfway there when he ran into Remus. “What’s a little thing like you running around alone for?” He asked seeing that Patton was regressed.

Patton sniffed and pointed at Virgil’s door.

“Mm Cg.” He muttered.

Remus nodded and let him past to the door. Patton knocked. “Vee? Can see ou now?”

“FUCK OFF!” Virgil growled from inside.

Patton jumped at the yell before his shoulders slumped and tears fell. He sat down on the floor outside Virgil’s door and hid his face in his plushie to cry. Remus stood there staring for a solid minute not moving until he got the urge to crack Virgil’s skull open down.

He went over and picked up Patton who looked at him surprised. “Wat doin?”

“You need someone to take care of you and if THAT ASSFACE is going to ignore you even if you’re little looks like I’ll pick up the slack.” Remus said yelling at Virgil’s door. He got a few steps away before Virgil opened the door.

Patton lit up seeing his caregiver. Virgil glared at him. “Who cares if he needs someone to watch him!” Virgil snapped.

“I hate to be responsible but you don’t blame a little for their big mistakes.” Remus said shifting so Patton was further away from Virgil as Patton peeked up scared of his caregiver.

Virgil snorted before looking at Patton again who burst out crying and hid his face. Hid from him. Virgil’s anger died but before he could step forward or say anything Remus took off with Patton.

---

Remus kicked open the door to Janus’ room and plopped Patton down on the bed. Janus looked up from where he was reading in the corner. “Oh..you brought a guest.”

Patton waved with one hand and dried his tears with his cat plush in the other. “Hi.”

“Guess fucking what?” Remus said pissed. Janus sighed and closed his book.

“Please don’t tell me that you-”

“They are IGNORING LITTLE HIM.” Remus said without letting Janus speak.

Janus stood up. “What?”

“He was knocking on their doors, Roman didn’t even answer and V-douche-”

“Child.” Janus reminded him before Remus could go further. Remus looked at Patton who was confusion and more than a little upset.

“Sorry Patty cake I’m not mad at you.” Remus said softly he and Janus sat down on either side of him on the bed.

“Yous not?” Patton whispered.

Janus offered him a hug, Patton crawled into his lap. “Of course not. We would never be mad at little you.” Janus promised.

Patton looked down the the stuffed cat. “Mm caregives are. They ate me now.”

“They don’t hate you.” Janus lied.

“Jan..” Remus said looking at him. Janus sighed.

“They hate you a little bit. BUT they will get over it.” Janus said.

“Hope so.” Patton hugged the cat so tightly it’s head would have popped off if it had been real.

Remus wanted to go smack the heck out of them for this. Janus put a hand on Remus’ shoulder and gave him a look.

Remus nodded. Later.

For now it was time to take care of Patton.

---

Roman and Virgil were waiting for Patton when Remus was taking him back to his room for bedtime. Patton lit up when he saw them before slumping and half hiding behind Remus.

Roman took a breath. “Patton...It’s been unfair of us to treat little you so harshly while big you was the one to cause the problems.” Patton looked hopeful.

“But we can’t handle being around you right now.” Virgil said. “So until things get resolved….we aren’t your caregivers anymore.”

Patton had tears pooling in his eyes. “Ok.” He whispered sniffling. Remus held onto Patton, and watched as Roman and Virgil left.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Remus said taking Patton into his bedroom.

Patton crawled in bed and curled up still silently crying. Remus laid down next to him and pulled him against his side. “When Virgil left I felt awful. I kept hoping that he would come back and things would be normal again.”

Patton looked at him. Remus sighed, “Sometimes people leave and we can’t change that. I’m sorry.”

Patton patted Remus’ cheek. “It k.” He paused. “Ous leave too?”

Remus hugged him tightly. “No...No I won’t leave too.” Remus promised. “I’ll stick around, can’t get rid of me. And Janus’ be here too.”

“Tank you.” Patton said. “Ous can leave thou. I a bother.”

Remus hugged Patton tighter. “Never a bother. You deserve to be little and have care while being little.” Then Remus groaned. “I’ve spent too much time with Dee.”

Patton giggled. He hugged Remus tightly as he fell asleep. Remus stared at the ceiling for hours afterwards before drifting to sleep as well. As long as he was around, Patton wasn’t going to be abandoned again.

---

Patton was waiting. He was being cared for by Remus and Janus until Ro.an and Virgil wanted him back. He never told them what he was doing but had a feeling everyone knew. Roman and Virgil did let him come back. Only, they were still mad. They didn’t say it out right but would be overly mad at him for being loud or as they said ‘annoying’.

Roman yells at him for being too loud, he runs crying silently to Janus and Remus.

Virgil yells at him for bothering him too much, he stops asking for help, making it harder for Janus and Remus to make him feel better.

They decided to ‘take breaks’ from being his caregiver again. Each break lasts longer and longer until Patton isn’t acting normal ever. Always worried and quiet. He doesn’t make jokes anymore. To check up on people not wanting to be a bother. He doesn’t show up for movie nights anymore, or eat with everyone else in the kitchen.

Remus and Janus are furious.

Janus was rocking Patton to sleep as he was little. He was in the middle of the common room and Hissed as Virgil walked passed without even acknowledging that his little needed help. That he caused him so much stress he was having nightmares. Janus sent a seathing comment, one that Virgil sent him back a glare at but didn't reply.

That morning Patton was regressed and hanging on Roman's arm as Roman walked around barely noticing him. Just speaking to him when he wanted too and Patton beaming excited at being seen. Remus was disgusted by his brother's behavior and that was saying something.

Later he found Patton curled up in his bed staring off silently as he cried. Remus pulled him into his lap and let himself cry himself out before Patton snapped out of his Regression and excused himself with an extremely fake smile. Patton made breakfast the next morning without eating himself. Roman and Virgil didn't say a word about it.

---

Logan was regressing alone. He had wanted to try and get Roman and Virgil watch after him but… Well… after seeing what happened to Patton he couldn't. So he was by himself, timing himself to build lego sets faster when Remus come in looking for Patton.

"You're little?" Remus asked.

"Yeah. Patton is too, he was by earlier. Was crying so I played a little bit too but…" Logan scowled and angrily clicked two pieces together.

"But?" Remus asked.

"Roman yelled at him. Told him to not bug me. We were having fun too!" Logan snapped as he finished the castle set and clicking the timer. He barely beat his time.

Remus hummed. Half a mind to go hunt Roman down, half a need to take care of a lonely little and probably upset one. So he picked up Logan and went in search of patton. He had two littles to cheer up and take care.

He found Patton in his room and Dropped Logan on the bed next to him. Judging from Patton’s gasp and giggle he was still little. Remus tickled him a little before putting his hands on his hips. “Sooo guess I have two little Allll to myself this afternoon!”

“Yeah!” Logan said, almost vibrating with excitement of having two playmates. Patton hugged both of them and broke down crying, startling Remus and causing Remus to gently hug him back.

“It’s ok, We’re here.” Remus soothed and pulled both of them into his lap with a little wiggling. Logan patted Patton’s back, “We can sleep together if you want. This way cuddles!” Logan really wanted cuddles and despite Patton being upset wanted the contact. Besides it would cheer both of them. And that would be for the best he thought Logically, or as logically as anyone in little space could.

“So cookies too?” Logan asked knowing that would excite Patton and cheer him up, Or at least it should.

Patton deflated more and shook his head. “Too gross.”

Remus stared at him. “Cookies aren’t gross.”

“I is. Too fat.” Patton said wiping at his tears. “Vee and Ro says so.”

Logan and Remus froze. Logan hugged Patton tightly before dragging him wordless off the bed and out of the room to go get him so many cookies. (just enough that he didn’t get sick cu that was no fun.) He was climbing up onto the counter before Remus got into the room and rushed over picking him and up ans setting him onto the ground.

“Hey!” Logan protested. Remus ignored him and got the cookies down.

“There you can each have three.” He said opening the lid. They each grabbed three Logan sneaking and Forth for Patton, Remus caught it but Let him do so. Patton needed cheering up and a little crime was good for the brain and spirit, especially cookie crimes.

They nibbled on their cookies in front of the t.v watching Blue’s clues and Dora. Remus kept his comments to the shows to himself. At least the non child friendly ones, yelling out the wrong answers to see the little’s correct him, was too cute to resist.

At bedtime Logan led them through their routine and drug Patton to Bed with him and cuddled him so tightly that he made and small squeak. Remus chuckled at that, and tucked him in. “Stay?” Patton asked, it was the first thing he asked for the whole time. Like Remus was going to turn him down.

“Scoot over.” Was the only warning they got before Remus flopped onto them.

---

Roman went to check on Patton in the morning and found him cuddling with Remus. REMUS! He managed to pull Patton aside and started yelling at him. “He’s the bad guy!” He hissed at him.

“But he helps me.” Patton stood up for Remus feeling sick but not sure why. Maybe it was just because He was being yelled at.

“He’s evil! Do you want Thomas to be evil?” That was a really low blow but Roman’s Pride had been hurt too many times by Patton going to HIS BROTHER instead of him. If Patton could just behave none of this would be a problem.

“I’m not...he’s not evil...I’m not.” Patton said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He hugged himself unsure and dropping onto his little space fast.

Roman crossed his arms and scowled. “You need to stop going to them. Thomas is going to turn out evil if you don’t. I beg you want that.”

“What? No I doesn’t!” Patton teared up. “You’re being mean.”

Roman raised his eyebrows in mock offence. “Are you BLAMING ME? I’m trying to do the right thing! That’s all it is with you isn’t it? Just blame someone else for your mistakes!” Roman pushed Patton’s shoulder none too gently.

Patton burst out crying and ran off, getting half way to Janus before freezing. He..He didn’t want Thomas to be evil. He needed to ask someone about this.

So he went to Virgil.

Virgil was pissed to be woken up and even more so that Roman was pissed off too. Not that he was standing up for Patton just that Roman didn’t seem to stand up for his fellow caregiver. “He’s right you’ve been running off to the wrong people this whole time. Who are your caregivers?”

“You and Ro.” Patton whispered confused and scared that he was getting yelled at.

Virgil nodded and smiled, “That’s right. Good job bud.” Patton smiled happy that Virgil seemed happy.

He would be better, he had to be. He nodded and left to think. He would be better.

---

He started avoid everyone, Scared of Ro and Vee, worried that he was messing up with Re and Jan. Both sides of sides blaming the others for Patton’s behavior turning Patton into a weapon to hurt the others.

Every day seems to be endless arguing between the two sets of caregivers, they argue back and forth. Patton hasn't went back to Janus or Remus at all ever sense his caregivers told him that he could make Thomas evil, and the guilt of avoiding him has been eating him up tremendusly. He wanted to desperatly run off to Remus and Janus, but he knew that his caregivers would yell at him.

Todays fight ended up being the worst one out of the whole week, Janus ending up shouting something that triggered Virgil badly. Roman rebuted loudly shouting stuff like, "This is why you aren't accepted" and "This is why YOU are a bad guy!"

Over the past week, Patton has just been silently breaking down, trying not to get in the way, the last time he tried, Roman shoved him and told him to back off and Virgil snarled at him. Patton didn't know what to do.

Remus was finally over it and finally shouted, "IF YOU ARE SUCH GOOD CAREGIVERS THEN WHY DOESN'T LOGAN EVER COME TO YOU HUH?? YOU MESSED UP WITH PATTON SO HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE THERE EITHER, SUCH GOOOOOOOOD CAREGIVERS"

Patton melts down, he didn't want this, he didn't want everyone to be upset, he ruined everything, now Logi can't even regress around anyone because of him.

Logan noticed the loud noise and went to investigate, finding Patton curled up crying in the corner, hands over his ears as the other four screamed at each other. He was quick to get a shaking Patton out of there and safely to his room dropping as he went. He was in a bit of an older headspace so he was able to get Patton into his bed and rock him until the younger little wasn’t shaking anymore.

“I’m sorry!” They both cried. Patton for feeling like he messed everything up and Logan for not stepping up before in or out of Littlespace. Even if neither of them were to blame the guilt ate at them and apologizing for it make them feel a tiny bit better. Enough that Patton could fall and asleep and Logan remained awake to watch over him.

Meanwhile Remus and Janus noticed that the Little was gone and all four of the Caregivers where in a race to find him before Remus thought to check Logan’s room, Remus and Janus burst in first followed quickly by Roman and Virgil.

Logan held up a finger in his lips glare at him. “He’s asleep.” He whispered fiercely.

Remus and Janus silently went over to the bed while Roman and Virgil left feeling...guilty Thoughts a mess.

Maybe Remus and Janus were right.

What did that make them?

---

Patton woke up to breakfast, one that everyone insisted he eat with them. Logan was still little and much to Patton’s delight was being cared for by Remus and Janus, as well was he was. Remus and Janus took up being His permanent caregiver, Roman and Virgil giving up the role much to Patton’s dismay yet relief.

Things went to a new normal. Patton slowly became more used to being with Remus and Janus. Even with Logan.

He still saw Roman and Virgil around, It was hard but getting easier the more time they were nicer to him. They still had work to do on themselves. Some days they were bitter and ignored him still, those days were hard. But, they would come back later and apologize and that helped some what.

Patton was sitting on Janus’ lap, Logan on Remus’ both with cookies as they watched cartoons.

He felt safe and most importantly, loved.

#gaslighting #abuse #verbal abuse #Agere patton #agere logan #cg virgil #cg roman #cg remus #cg janus

[today-only-happens-once]

retrospection

title: retrospection

summary: Virgil finds Roman in the Mind Palace Theater after the events of Putting Others First: SvSr. 

Word count: 1549

Warnings: spoilers (obviously), self-loathing is extremely heavy here, angst in droves, hurt/comfort, cursing. 

A/N:  I wasn’t planning to write anything in reaction to POF but then this idea caught me in a flying tackle and wrestled me to the ground until I wrote it. So here it is! Posted in the spirit of the “two cakes” theory. Unedited because I just don’t have the mental or emotional energy after writing this. Might be some of my angstiest stuff yet. I’m not sure. It’s up there, for sure. No taglist because it’s short and unedited but since @creativenostalgiastuff specifically asked me to, here ya go!

...

Virgil steps into the Mind Palace Theater as quietly as he can, listening to the echoes of Roman’s final sung note reverberate against the walls of the large room. When Patton had said he was worried because Roman hadn’t returned to his room after whatever conversation had occurred following the wedding reception, Virgil had told the Moral Side he’d try to find him. He’d had a feeling that perhaps Roman would go to one of his usual spots when he was upset. 

The theater is empty, Virgil realizes as he catches the door before it can slam. Usually, when Roman performed, the Creative Side filled the rows of seats with adoring fans. Then again, as far as Virgil knew, Roman hadn’t done much in the way of performing since sentencing Thomas to attend the wedding.

Virgil stays in the back of the theater and watches Roman catch his breath. The Creative Side’s head is bowed, his hair falling unchecked into his eyes, the stage lights casting long shadows across the angular planes of his face. It makes it impossible for Virgil to see Roman’s expression from this far away.

Then Roman’s shoulders jerk with an aborted sob, and Virgil sighs.

Roman sinks, slowly, to the stage floor and Virgil slips his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and starts to walk down the aisle towards the stage. Roman doesn’t seem to notice, pulling a knee up to his chest and burying his face in his arms perched on top of it.

Virgil sniffs as he gets closer in an effort to make his presence known without demanding a response. Roman doesn’t even look up, but the way he freezes for half of a beat is enough to let the Anxious Side know that Roman is aware he’s not alone. It’s something, at least.

Roman is sitting on the edge of the stage thrust, and Virgil jumps up onto it to sit beside him. There’s a long moment when neither of them says anything. Virgil’s hands fidget in his lap as he listens to the way Roman’s sniffles and shaky exhales fill the space around them. He doesn’t look at Roman—not much, anyway—in a perhaps flimsy attempt to let Roman feel that he still had an element of privacy.

But the quiet stretches on, and Virgil starts to feel that perhaps Roman is waiting for him to speak first. So he does.

“No adoring fanbase today?”

Roman sighs. “Best not, after that performance.” He lifts his head, and Virgil counts it as a small and fleeting victory. “How much of it did you hear?”

Roman doesn’t look at him when he asks, but Virgil looks at him when answers. “Not much,” he replies honestly. “The last note.”

Roman’s voice is almost as dull as his eyes, staring blankly at the rows and rows of vacant audience seats the stretch out before them. “I was sharp on the last note. My voice kept—” His voice wavers, then breaks off. Virgil glances over and sees the bob to his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Then he huffs a humorless breath. “Well. That.”

Virgil opens his mouth to reply but Roman cuts him off. “I’ve sung that song probably a million times but I guess now I can just add it to the long list of things I can’t seem to do right.”

Virgil feels something—like dread but sharper—ripple down his spine. His gaze flashes to Roman. “That’s not fair.”

There’s a twitch to Roman’s jaw. “Isn’t it?”

Virgil swallows. “Roman—”

“I was cruel to you. For years, Virgil.” Roman glances at him then, but he averts his gaze a moment later as if too ashamed to meet his eyes. “And then you left, and I eventually realized how badly I’d messed up, and I started doing better. Or, I thought I was. And then Thomas got broken up with, and my efforts to salvage what was left of his heart only led to more pain and I hurt you and I hurt Patton and by extension, I hurt Thomas. I write some song lyrics a few months later and nobody likes them. What’s worse is they’re right to not like them—some of them were like something Remus would have come up with.”

Virgil’s chest clenches at the disgust that drips from Roman’s voice as he speaks. “Roman—”

“I was the reason that Thomas missed the reading of Joan’s play, remember? Because one cute boy gave us the time of day, and I made Thomas choose him first over them. And then I let myself get manipulated into parading around this very same stage in an effort to appease my own sense of guilt over it all. I continued to be mean to Logan, calling him names and calling him stupid which couldn’t be further from the truth.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I was just… angry, and jealous, and I lashed out at an easy target because I’m just incapable of not hurting you all.” Roman’s hands curl around his biceps and grip.

“Roman,” Virgil repeats firmly, but Roman shakes his head and wipes a hand across his mouth and presses on.

“And-and then the callback comes around, and I think finally, y’know? Finally a sign that I could do something right. Finally my ambition is a good thing that helps Thomas rather than hurts him. But even that was wrong, because Thomas—because I—wanted so damn badly to go to that callback, he decided he wasn’t a good person. So I tried to make him do the right thing, because I can make that sacrifice if it means that for once I didn’t screw up.”

Virgil sees a sheen to Roman’s eyes, and the Creative Side quickly brushes at his eyes. He still won’t look at Virgil.

“And then today—“ and Roman’s voice breaks. Virgil watches as Roman’s grip on his own arms tightens even more and the Anxious Side worries that he’s going to leave bruises. Roman stops and takes a breath, his eyes screwing shut. “Today I learn that I couldn’t even get that right. I side with Janus, and I’m the bad guy.”

Virgil startles. He told them his name? He quickly shakes his head, filing away the information to deal with at a later time.

Roman doesn’t even seem to have noticed. “I side with Patton, and I’m still the bad guy. I just… I don’t know what it takes to be the good guy, Virgil. I thought… I thought—”

“Hey,” Virgil says, as softly as he can, reaching a hand out and covering Roman’s on his arm. Hoping to ease the death grip he has. “Roman, you are a good guy. You’re Thomas’s hero, after all.”

There’s a strange, choked noise in the back of Roman’s throat and he wrenches away from Virgil’s grip, scrambling to his feet. He stalks several steps away, his back to the Anxious Side, and Virgil feels suddenly… lost. That used to always be a comfort to Roman. Something he clung to in his darker moments.

But something anguished had flooded into the Prince’s eyes when Virgil had said that, and Virgil…

Virgil doesn’t understand why.

“Not anymore, Virgil,” he chokes out in a strained voice. “Thomas doesn’t—I’m not—”

Virgil blinks a few times, his brow furrowing. Slowly, he pushes himself to his feet. “Roman, what are you saying?”

Roman whirls around, his fists clenching and his eyes red and watering. “Spare me the faux ignorance, Anxiety! Janus as much as confirmed that Thomas was lying to me about that. So I know. I know I failed him one too many times now. I know Thomas doesn’t… he doesn’t…” Roman clenches his jaw and averts his gaze again, his expression crumpling.

Virgil glances away, turning that over. That… didn’t make sense. Because Virgil knew—he knew—that Thomas did, in fact, see Roman as his hero. Virgil doesn’t know what Janus told him, or why (because when he thinks about it, even for a moment, he can’t understand why Janus would lie about something like that to Roman), but he knows that Roman is wrong.

Virgil takes a step towards Roman. “Bullshit,” he snaps. “You are his hero. Thomas loves you, Roman. We all do.”

“Shut up!” Roman snaps back. “Why—why do you all keep saying that?”

Virgil takes another step. “Because it’s the truth, Princey.”

Virgil watches as Roman blinks, and the tears that had been brimming in his eyes track down his cheeks. Roman doesn’t scrub them away, either, instead shaking his head.

“I don’t—I don’t understand,” Roman manages, his eyes searching with a desperation that only further tightens the clench in Virgil’s chest. “I’m not… I keep… I don’t deserve it. I—”

Virgil is close enough now to grab him, so he does. He grabs Roman by the arm and yanks him in. Roman stumbles, but Virgil catches him, holding him close with one arm wrapped around his back and the other threading up through his hair to keep him in place.

“Listen to me, Roman,” Virgil says in the Prince’s ear. “We—all of us—love you. We do. We have, we do, and we will. We will say it and we will show it in as many ways as you need until you can believe it yourself.”

He feels Roman’s grip against his own back fist in his sweatshirt. Something like a sob wracks through Roman’s chest, and it’s like a dam breaking open.

Virgil just holds on as tight as he can.

#sanders sides #ts spoilers #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #angst #roman angst #so much angst #hurt/comfort #cursing #platonic prinxiety

[fandomfollowerart]

Happy Birthday Janus! 💛

I sat in my room, quietly reading a book. Only Patton had wished me a happy birthday. I don’t know what I expected. Logan doesn’t exactly seem the birthday type and Roman and Virgil hate me regardless. I guess I got a day to myself at least… 

“Jan Jan!” 

The door to my room was kicked open. Of course. I had figured Remus has simply forgotten it was my birthday. Guess I didn’t give him enough credit. He did usually spend my birthday with me. 

“Remus, what have I told you about breaking down my door?” 

He grinned. “Where the fun in that? Anyways! I came to wish my little snake happy birthday!” he stated, sitting down next to me. 

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Now was that all?” I asked, pushing my book to the side. 

It was more of a rhetorical question, that was never ‘all’ when it came to Remus. His smile widened. 

“Corse not! C’mon we’re going to the Imagination!” 

He grabbed my hand, bringing both of us to his side of the Imagination. It wasn’t the first time he’d brought me here, far from it. It was always pretty fun. He had brought us somewhere random in the first. 

“Re where are we going?” I asked as he dragged me through, nearly tripping me multiple times. 

“What’s wrong Jan? Don’t you trust me?” 

“That’s a completely reasonable question.” 

He smiled at me, still running. “Then let it be a surprise! Where’s the fun in telling you?” 

We eventually stopped in a small clearing. It was decorated with a few fairy lights hung by the trees and a blanket and pillows set on the ground. 

“Took me a bit to get the proper stuff. I even asked Patton for help!” He grinned, clearly very proud of himself for what he’d done. It was nice seeing him that way. We both sat down. “Sooo, you like it?” he asked. 

He took my hat off, pulling me closer to run his hand through my hair. I took both my gloves off, placing them with my hat, I didn’t really need them when I was with Re. 

“I love it, thank you for setting it up.” 

He kissed my head. “Good! I figured it would be fun to set something up for you!” 

He was always nice to me. After Virgil had left it only brought us closer. It’s funny I ever thought that would change. 

“Oh, I forgot! I have a gift for you!” 

He reached behind one of the pillows, pulling out a small box wrapped in black wrapping paper. I turned to face him, taking the box. I tore off the paper, opening the box. Inside was a necklace it seemed. A black snake charm on a golden chain. I stared in awe, turning it in my hand. 

“It’s beautiful, can you help me put it on?” I asked. 

He took it from my hand tying the claps behind my neck. 

“There! It looks good on you.” he said, kissing my head again. “Now c’mon! Got one more thing we need to do!” 

I grabbed my hat and gloves, putting them back on before he brought us to the common room. 

“Janus!” Patton ran over, practically bouncing with excitement. “Happy birthday! I talked to the others and they helped me make you a birthday cake!” 

I glanced over to Remus. 

“Surprise! Patton told me to distract you long enough so they could finish up here. Figured it would be fun to have a little celebration of our own first.” 

I smiled, “And I so don’t appreciate either of you doing this for me.” 

Pat was getting better at detecting my lies, I’d give him props for that. 

“It was no trouble at all really!” 

They both walked me into the dinning room where the others were already sat. I don’t know how the hell Patton had managed, but both Roman and Virgil seemed to be more tolerant of my existence today. Over all it was a pretty nice little party. Patton had given me a stuffed snake, Logan had given me a book, and the other two gave me a card. It was nice, all of us getting along for once. Even Remus and Roman were nicer to each other (though pretty reluctant) Definitely a step in the right direction.

#Sanders Sides #Janus Sanders #Happy Birthday Janus! #I actually had motivation for once #Dukeceit #Demus

[visceraah]

Day 1- Baking

Watching Janus make a beeline for the fridge, pull it open and, after a moment of contemplation, reach straight past the leftovers carefully placed at eye level for a bottle of wine, Patton couldn’t help blurting- “What do you eat?”

Janus unscrewed the bottle smoothly, tilting a glass and pouring himself a drink without so much as looking up at Patton.

“Mice.”

Patton squeaked in horror before he noticed the other sides’ smirk, quickly remembering who he was talking to, and huffed. “I just meant- you never eat with us. Or take the leftovers I leave out.”

“Those are for me?” Janus’ eyebrows rose at Patton's nod, and he murmured a quiet “huh”, expression unreadable.

“Just- you don’t just drink that, do you?” Patton asked quickly, nodding at the bottle, and Janus barked out a surprised laugh.

“Yes. I preach self care by day then binge-drink all night, every night, without even a morsel of food to soak it up.”

AO3 @moceit-appreciation-week

Patton liked to make an effort to look after his kiddos, from placing post-its with a smiley face and reminder to have a FANtastic day (because he was their biggest fan!), to making sure they all ate at least one meal every day. It might not technically have been needed to ‘sustain’ them, as Logan never hesitated to remind him, but he thought a nice warm batch of cookies sustained the soul, so there.

And he liked the chewing motion.

Janus had never attended their famILY dinners, even after he was accepted, which Patton had to admit stung a little. He’d invited him every day at first, trying all sorts of dishes to entice the reptilian side, but nothing had worked. Patton couldn’t exactly use his normal approach, bring up a spare plate and knock gently on his door to make sure everything was alright. He wasn't really sure where they stood, but Janus definitely wasn’t one of his kiddos, and he was determined to respect his privacy.

Still, he was worried. And watching Janus make a beeline for the fridge, pull it open and, after a moment of contemplation, reach straight past the leftovers carefully placed at eye level for a bottle of wine, he couldn’t help blurting, “What do you eat?”

Janus unscrewed the bottle smoothly, tilting a glass and pouring himself a drink without so much as looking up at Patton.

“Mice.”

Patton squeaked in horror before he noticed the other sides’ smirk, quickly remembering who he was talking to, and huffed. “I just meant- you never eat with us. Or take the leftovers I leave out.”

“Those are for me?” Janus’ eyebrows rose at Patton's nod, and he murmured a quiet “huh”, expression unreadable.

“Just- you don’t just drink that, do you?” Patton asked quickly, nodding at the bottle, and Janus barked out a surprised laugh.

“Yes. I preach self care by day then binge-drink all night, every night, without even a morsel of food to soak it up.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Patton defended quickly, frowning. Gosh, how to words. “I’m just… Worried.”

“Worried?” Janus echoed in disbelief, and Patton felt a pang in his chest he’d ever doubt that, knowing it was his fault.

“Of course I am! You haven’t eaten anything, and I don’t care what Logan says, that’s gotta feel bad!”

Janus blinked, looking taken aback at the outburst. “Who says I haven’t been eating?”

“I just assumed- oh, oops. Guess I made an ass out of you and me… Mostly me.” Patton felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as Janus choked mid-sip, and he looked up in surprise.

“Nothing, nothing. I just was definitely expecting you to swear like that.” He explained, after taking a moment to compose himself.

“Nuh-uh! It means donkey.” Patton chided, crossing his arms playfully. “Honestly.”

Janus rolled his eyes good-naturedly, taking another sip of wine. “How silly of me to assume any other meaning.”

Patton almost frowned at the emphasis before he realised, and started to giggle.

“That was a pun!”

“No it wasn’t.” Janus replied instantly, leaning back against the counter with a much more subtle smile.

“I-” Janus’ confidence faltered for a second and Patton’s laughter faded to silence, watching the other sides’ expression return to a familiar, carefully constructed mask of apathy. “It wasn’t at all rude of me to not offer you a glass, too. Would you like..?”

“Oh! I really shouldn’t.” Patton replied instinctively, and when faced with Janus’ imploring eyebrow raise, tacked on, “I have to make dinner.”

“Surely you aren’t such a lightweight you can’t have one glass?” Janus teased, and Patton pouted defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to drink, and not being used to it isn’t a bad thi… Oh, whatever.” He grabbed a glass.

-

They had more than one glass. Janus had shifted back from leaning on a cabinet to perching on it, looking unfairly elegant even as his words became deliberate and slow, expression rarely unguarded. Patton- who at some point had slid down against the counter much less gracefully, and was sitting on the floor- took the opportunity to study him. He knew they were all meant to have the same face, but there was something about him- other than the scales- that felt… Invigorating. That persuaded him to drink almost half a bottle of wine when he was meant to be making-

“Dinner!” He yelled, standing up so quickly he stumbled forwards, head spinning. Janus was uncoordinated as he reached for him and missed on the first grab, but he managed to put a hand on each of Patton's shoulders to steady him.

“Yesssss,” He drew out the ‘s’ in a snakelike hiss that made Patton giggle, “You can absolutely be trusted with knives and hot pans, right now.”

“... Oh.” Janus had a point. Patton frowned, eyebrows furrowing in thought before his whole face lit up again. “Cakes don’t need knives or pans!”

“Yes they do.” Janus replied in confusion, and it took a second to realise he was still lying before Patton was giggling again, shaking his head.

“So we can make a cake.”

“Oh, great ide- wait, ‘we’?”

“Yep! You look like you’d be good with the weighing scales.” He booped the snake-covered cheek to emphasise his very funny and original pun. To his delight, red blossomed across the human half of the face, and he gave another scale a boop.

“... Are you done?” Janus’ voice came out strangled, and Pattons attention was redirected to his lips as they moved. Even gentler, he brushed a thumb against them and heard Janus’ breath hitch.

Just like that he realised what he was doing- and where he was doing it, a leg on either side of him. Patton pulled back quickly, trying to back up when he felt Janus’ grip on his shoulders tighten and he stilled. He looked up slowly to search the other sides’ expression for shock, betrayal, hurt- but all he could see was that smirk, and the apology died on his lips as Janus leaned in to kiss him. He smelt the wine on his breath before he tasted it, and Patton felt intoxicated in a whole different way. Before he knew it, Janus’ arms had moved from his shoulders to his neck, legs wrapping around his waist to pull them together. Patton, equally enthusiastic, gently threaded a hand in Janus’ hair. The whimper he got in response made him a little lightheaded.

“Ja-anieeee, aren’t you hungry- oh. Ooh!” A delighted cackle behind them had Janus pulling back and sliding to the floor, face bright red.

“Remus.”

“Hungry…” Patton repeated under his breath, confused and a little disappointed before he blinked. “Cake!”

“Looks like you were getting plenty.” Remus taunted, and Patton squinted as he tried to figure it out. Apparently he wasn’t meant to, though, as Janus hissed out “Ssssstop.”

“Oh, fine. Seems like you were more thirsty than hungry, though~”

“Oh god.” Janus covered his face with his hands, and that one Patton got. He felt his face heating up too.

“Taking it you have a meal for you right here, then?” Remus drawled in a tone Patton wished he didn’t understand, although as the actual words set in he glanced between them. “Meal?”

“I mean-”

“Not that.” Patton quickly cut Remus off, face feeling like it was on fire. “You eat together?”

“More like eat out togethe-” A glare from Janus silenced Remus mid-sentence and he whined. “Alright, eat.”

“It’s not like he’s my best friend or we have years of routine, or anything.” Janus supplied, suddenly defensive.

“Oh.” That didn’t seem to be the right answer, and he scrambled as Janus’ glare turned on him. “I mean- that’s okay! Can… Can I join you?”

Janus and Remus exchanged a look. Janus quirked an eyebrow, Remus blinked. Janus raised it further and Remus stuck his tongue out.

Janus sighed. “No rat poison.”

“A little rat poison-”

“No.”

Remus pouted. “Fine.”

Patton's kiddos would be okay with leftovers for one night, but for now- however scared of rat poison he was- there was another family unit he wanted to get to know.

#moceitappreciationweek #moceitweek2021 #moceit #patton morality sanders #janus deceit sanders #alcohol / #drunken kiss #it gets Kinda heated but dw it doesnt go anywhere sajhadshjda #remus sanders #but only at the end #innuendos #...on account of the remus #mads' writing #listen i knOW its only day 2 and im already behind but. i'll have another one done later. ok?? #.........i need to plan things more lmao the 'baking' connection is a stretch

[dramaticsnakes]

Late night baking - Moceit bullet point fic

Ship: Pre-relationship moceit

Summary: Patton goes to the kitchen to bake during the night when he is sad. Janus notices.

I couldn’t get this idea out of my head but I didn’t have the time or energy to write a long fic about it, nor do I think I could pull it off. Have this 1992 word bullet point fic I wrote just now though. It’s probably a bit drawn out and messy, since I only spent a few hours on it, without proof-reading it more than once, but I hope you’ll enjoy anyway!

- The first time Deceit caught Morality baking late at night, it hardly mattered.

- Deceit had been unable to fall asleep, for various unimportant reasons, and had decided to get some water from the kitchen. He figured no one would notice him sneaking down there in the dead of night.

- He hadn’t expected to see Morality, mixing together ingredients, and moving around trays and bowls almost desperately. Deceit was a bit confused at the sight, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.

- It took Patton a few moments to notice Deceit staring at him from the doorway. Deceit had barely realized it either. Patton gasped, and Deceit noticed, that his eyes were faintly red. There was a single leftover tear on Patton’s cheek, which Patton quickly wiped away.

- Patton smiled. Not an overly excited smile, but Deceit never expected that. The two weren’t on the greatest terms. Yet, the smile still seemed to hide something else. Deceit could easily tell when something was being repressed.

- Patton asked Deceit what he wanted, and Deceit decided that whatever Patton was doing wasn’t his problem. He slithered into the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and drank it. Deceit made a half-hearted sarcastic comment about how baking at that hour was definitely healthy and far from concerning. Then he walked back to his bedroom, evaluated the situation, and fell asleep after an hour or two.

- A while passed, and Deceit didn’t notice anything like that. He heard a sound from the kitchen every once in a while, but it could be anything really, and it didn’t matter. Not to him.

- It wasn’t until the night after Deceit became Janus, that he thought anything of it.

- He was already awake, his head filled with all sorts of thoughts about the things that happened during the day. Respectful eyes, a particularly large frog, and Janus was right. Finally, Thomas had uttered those words, admitting that Janus was worth listening to sometimes. It felt like a new beginning, and Janus was excited, though he wouldn’t celebrate anything just yet. One victory, Thomas listened, and one specific side listened.

- That was when Janus heard some strange noises coming from the kitchen.

- He figured he would go get a glass of water, completely unrelated to said noises.

- He was met with the sight of Patton, placing cookie trays on the counter, and mixing batter together.

- Janus asked Patton what he was doing. Patton gasped, shocked, and smiled wide. It was clearly a fake smile, Janus thought. Patton was particularly good at those, though they weren’t difficult to decipher. “Oh, hi Janus! I’m just baking some cookies for everyone.” Patton replied.

- “Are you alright?” Janus asked. Patton nodded, and Janus sent him a knowing look. Patton looked down, almost ashamed.

- Janus figured he wasn’t in a position to pry unless Patton opened up on his own accord, and Janus didn’t have anything better to do (Well, except for sleeping which proved to be a tedious task that night). He also figured, that with all the tension after the day’s events, Thomas’ mind wouldn’t be able to handle too much more distress. At first, he simply suggested that Patton should go back to sleep, but Patton shrugged apologetically. Janus sighed, and asked “Do you need any help with baking?”

- Patton was dumbfounded at the suggestion but agreed anyway.

- The two continued to bake for a couple of hours, which eventually led them to talking a bit about what Patton was feeling.

- Patton was very clearly hiding his tears at first, as he talked about how Roman was refusing to open the door to his room, and how Patton had messed everything up.

- As they waited for the cookies to finish baking in the oven, Patton whispered a quick “I am so sorry for everything, Janus.” Though Janus wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

- They finished the cookies and ate a few together. At the end of the night, Patton asked Janus if he was allowed to hug him. Janus wasn’t used to that but accepted.

- The two walked to their respective rooms, and life continued normally.

- Or, as normally as it could after such a chaotic day.

- In the morning, Virgil and Janus encountered one another. Virgil was angry.

- It was an unpleasant exchange to say the least.

- As Janus was trying to fall asleep the following night, he heard someone walking in the halls.

- It was Patton again, on his way to the kitchen. Janus offered to join him. Patton said that he didn’t have to, but Janus shrugged and followed anyway.

- The exchange was a bit more familiar than the previous night. There was a lot more silent communication, handing each other things at the right time, only needing a few words to understand what the other meant.

- It left more room for casual conversation. At first it was rather mundane, but after a few tense ice breakers, they started talking about why Patton was upset that day. It didn’t take a genius to know that baking at night was a sign of that.

- Patton sighed and talked about a conversation he’d had with Virgil. Virgil was not pleased to see Janus around them at all. Roman was still in his room. Patton cried more visibly, sniffling between each word. Janus offered his best words of comfort, “They’ll come around.”, “I’m sure you can all talk it out later, as you always do.” But most of all he told Patton just how important it was that Patton took care of himself. Torturing himself with guilt and fear while no one was watching wasn’t going to help anyone and would only negatively affect Thomas.

- At first it caused Patton to smile a little, which Janus responded to by stressing that the point of that wasn’t for Patton to hide his emotions, but rather to talk them out and feel them. Just like Patton had discussed with the others before. “But punishing yourself like this won’t do anyone any good.”

- That night, Patton was a lot more emotionally vulnerable, and gave a much clearer apology to Janus. He apologized for everything and stated how much he wanted to make up for it.

- Janus was happy to receive the apology. He hadn’t quite expected it.

- They ended the night with a slightly more comfortable hug than the night before.

- A few days passed. The two started interacting a few times during the day, playing board games, and watching a movie or two together.

- Janus found himself enjoying Patton’s company more and more in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t just curiosity or concern for Thomas anymore, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

- One day, Patton asked Janus if he would like to make some cupcakes with him during the day.

- Janus accepted the invitation. He watched as Patton picked the perfect frosting to decorate individual cupcakes for all the other sides. Janus observed just how much Patton knew about each of them, and their individual cupcake preferences.

- Janus was surprised when Patton asked Janus what kind of cupcake Remus preferred. He didn’t expect Patton to include him.

- “Of course, he is getting one.” Patton said, “He is one of us.”

- Janus felt something disgustingly fluttery in his stomach, as he talked about Remus’ rather unique tastes, watching Patton’s intensive expression.

- Patton was being a lot less judgemental than what Janus had become used to.

- Patton told Janus that he should just deliver Remus’ cupcake alone, since he figured Remus would feel more comfortable around Janus.

- Janus took a deep breath as he thought of the possible outcomes, and how much Patton was distancing himself from others lately. “You should come too.” Janus said.

- Patton hesitantly did so.

- Janus and Patton knocked on Remus’ door, and Patton presented the cupcake on a plate in his hands.

- The moment was almost sickly sweet. It wouldn’t be Remus’ taste at all, if Janus hadn’t insisted, they added “hippo butt extract” to the icing and shaped the cupcake in a more… vulgar way than the others.

- Remus opened the door and was confused at the sight of a nervous Patton presenting a single cupcake, while standing next to a nonchalant Janus.

- Remus also noticed that there was a slight blush and both Patton’s face and the human half of Janus’.

- After Remus asked if those two were ‘fuckbuddies’ now (an assumption Janus and Patton shut down rather quickly at the same time), Remus devoured the cupcake in one bite, swallowing it whole.

- Remus seemed happy with the cupcake, even if his first reaction was to criticize that it wasn’t pickled.

- Patton beamed, as it was the first hint of proper acceptance, he had received from anyone but Janus for several days.

- Janus’ stomach hurt in a pleasant way, as he watched Patton’s genuine smile.

- And oh.

- Oh no.

- It was those feelings, wasn’t it?

- The two delivered the cupcakes to the others. Roman opened the door and accepted the cake directly. He uttered a cold ‘thank you’ and closed the door again.

- Patton delivered the cupcake to Virgil’s room alone since Janus refused to go. It wouldn’t end well.

- Logan said he appreciated the cupcake, and that it was nice that Patton and Janus were working together. Janus wasn’t sure if there was spite hidden in those words or not.

- That night, Janus was thinking about the strange feelings he was feeling around Patton. They didn’t make any sense and they certainly weren’t helpful.

- Though the following days, Janus caught himself getting addicted to Patton’s gentle touches. Anything from a tap on the shoulder, to a hug.

- What really caught Janus off guard, was when their hands touched briefly, as they were watching a movie.

- It didn’t take that long before Patton had another bad day.

- Janus found him in the kitchen, late at night. Patton wasn’t as discreet when he went there anymore, often touching Janus’ door as he passed it before he went downstairs.

- Janus wasn’t sure what was wrong that night. Maybe it was some of the usual things.

- The two started baking, but Patton didn’t say much, even though Janus made countless discreet attempts to make him open up.

- It made Janus’ gut twist strangely to watch Patton being sad. Maybe it was the lies and the repression, though it could also be the… ugh…

- Eventually, Patton asked Janus if he was feeling alright. “I don’t know. You’ve seemed off lately.”

- Janus wasn’t sure what to say. “I’ve been fine.” And it wasn’t really a lie. ‘Fine’ could be defined in many ways, and it wasn’t that anything unpleasant was happening to Janus. Quite the opposite.

- That was when Patton sighed. “I’ve been feeling some things lately that would be really counter productive if I want to make the others forgive me.”

- Janus wasn’t sure what to reply to that. Janus placed a comforting hand on Patton’s, which made Patton blush.

- It dawned upon Janus, that he wasn’t usually the one who initiated physical contact.

- Patton took Janus’ hand, holding it gently. Janus’ heart beat faster. The night had a habit of making people more vulnerable. Letting them feel feelings more intensely, much to Janus’ dismay.

- Patton looked at their joined hands. “I know I am probably not in a position to say this…” he started.

- Janus tried to maintain his calculative persona, underneath his loud heart and the exasperating feelings in his stomach.

- “But I really care about you Janus. A lot.” Patton said.

- Janus knew that that could mean a lot of things. All of which were so much more meaningful than anything he had expected in such a short amount of time. 

- “I uhm… I care about you a great deal too Patton.” Janus said.

- They finished baking, talking about some rather mundane things, but there was a new understanding between them. Neither of them were entirely sure what it was, but God, was it addicting.

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #moceit #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #fic #dramaticwriting

[jungle321jungle]

Favorites

Roman and Remus just want to know the answer to their question. Janus doesn't want to answer.

“Who would you choose?”

“Choose for what?”

“If you had to pick who dies between us.”

Janus paused in confusion before understanding of the question settled on him, “That’s a bit of a morbid question isn't it?”

Remus gave a shrug, “Who would you pick? Virgil said me.”

Janus gave his oldest a slight glare, but his son gave an innocent shrug. “I was doing my homework and they wouldn’t leave me alone. Do you want me to fail math?”

“I wouldn't pick either of you,” Janus told them, holding in a sigh. “Now can you finish setting the table? Dinner is almost done.”

“That’s boring,” Roman complained. “You gotta pick Dad.”

“I disagree. But why are you asking in the first place?”

The twins locked eyes for a moment having one of those private conversations before Roman spoke for the both of them. “What if it was me and Virgil?”

“I’d live,” Virgil answered without hesitation.

“I prefer a scenario where all of my sons are alive,” Janus cut in with a pointed look. “And also where you tell me why you’re asking.”

"We need an answer," Remus complained.

“Can we just agree that both of you suck?” Virgil asked, taking the plates from his younger brothers and setting the table himself.

“Virgil,” Janus warned.

“They do,” he mumbled. “I mean I don't have my own room. What could suck more?”

There were multiple things Janus wanted to say to his sons but as the doorbell rang he pushed them to the wayside. He tried to compose himself best he could and after giving his three children stern looks to behave he went to answer it. Logan stood behind the door, looking as wonderful in a suit as always, but Janus would have to admit some of the beauty did come from the yawning child in his arms. “Janus,” he greeted with a smile. “I’d like you to meet Patton.”

The young boy rubbed at his eye with one hand but gave a wave the other, “Hi Mr. Janus.”

“Nice to finally meet you Patton. Did you just wake up from a nap?”

“Cars are his weakness,” Logan stated, setting his son down and moving to pull Janus into a hug. Janus hugged back and let the quick meeting of their lips drown out any of the worries he had for the evening.

Janus gave a smile silently thinking back to when Virgil had been the same way, "Ready to meet mine?"

"Lead the way."

And then by some miracle dinner had gone well. His boys had actually been on their best behavior, neither Roman nor Remus had done or talked about anything inherently gross and Virgil had done an amazing job of keeping any snide or sarcastic comments in his head. So for a while Janus had truly thought this would go well until the end of the night. But apparently that line of thought had been way too naïve.

“Dad you never chose,” Remus put in randomly during a lull in conversation. “If you had to pick me or Roman to die who would it be?”

Janus tried to hold in any panic as he glanced at his boyfriend’s confused expression before he looked back to his son. “I told you I am not answering dark questions like that.”

“That’s cheating,” Roman complained. “And what about me and Virgil?”

“I’d choose myself,” Janus told them in a tone which signified this was the end of the conversation, but apparently neither of his twins were good at picking up on that tone.

Remus crossed his arms, “That’s still cheating.”

“I’d have to be playing the game to be cheating at it.”

“But-”

“I don't think you father wishes to rank you at all,” Logan put in. “That’s what you really want to know, right? If he has a favorite?”

“Can I be a favorite?” Patton asked.

Logan ruffled his son’s hair causing the boy to laugh. “You’re already my favorite, Patton.”

“Is that what this is about?” Janus asked the twins in surprise. “I don't have a favorite." But when he saw their looks of disbelief he continued. "Because you’re all my favorite at different things. Roman you're my favorite singer. And Remus you're my favorite story teller. And Virgil-”

“Your favorite at babysitting?” Virgil guessed.

“While you are good at that I was going to say you are my favorite artist. I know you don’t share them with me often, but what you make is always amazing . And these are just small examples but I just love each of you for being you, okay?” As he finished there was a pause as he took in their faces before Virgil gave a slight cough.

“That’s cheesy,” Virgil mumbled into a bite of cake, but the slight blush on his face was clear and that seemed to be good enough for the twins to drop the subject as they took to teasing him instead.

Janus couldn't help but let out a slight breath of relief as he turned his attention toward Logan, “Thank you, I had no clue what was happening.”

Logan laced their fingers together before he leaned in to whisper, “Now I won't tell, but who’s your actual favorite?”

Janus only gave a groan in reply.

#Janus Sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #Kid!Virgil #kid!roman #roman sanders #kid!remus #remus sanders #dadciet

[hannahdra-ws]

If I can feed the bakery idea:

Janus and Virgil met at the same psychology courses/classes - which Virgil dropped since it didn’t really fit him - and they still talk, one day Virgil mentions that he now has a roommate who’s a single father and is looking for a job and Janus mentions that he really needs a helping hand in his bakery

Or, alternatively:

After Virgil takes Remus and Patton in he asks Remus to just do simple chores (he can’t really live there for free but, since he’s struggling already, it’s just simple stuff) and once Virgil asked him to buy some groceries and, when going to the store, Remus saw a small bakery with a sign “Looking for an employee” on the window so he hops in to look if he can get the job, Janus tells him that he can come back tomorrow for an “interview” and maybe bring in some papers if has them.

“I hope you don’t mind the... uh... criminal record...” “Oh, as if you’re the only human on earth that committed crimes!” And so Remus gets the job! Janus quickly takes him through the needed processes that need to be done and he can expect Remus to come in tomorrow!

While at his new job, Remus learns more about baking - and more about Janus, - and he’s allowed to take some cakes home (that are about to expire or smt) and Patton is v happy with it (sometimes Virgil is lucky to be home soon enough to get a taste)

Remus got to work there for one more year - through out that time he got to take Janus out on a few dates and the man got to meet Patton - before he moved out of Virgil’s place with Patton to his own apartment! Janus living next door (he was the one who gave Remus the idea in the first place)

After maybe two more years, Patton got a new dad! He’s very nice and makes very tasty breakfasts and lunches for Patton to take to his kindergarten!

About that bakery? It’s now a restaurant, owned by both Janus and Remus! It’s going great!

Until a man named Roman shows up...

Ah... maybe I over fed the idea... again

JWHDJWJFJQJDJ!!!! I LOVE ALL OF THAT SO MUCH OH MY GOD

(btw virge is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns in this)

it's very fun to imagine remus running a bakery because Remus is a street punk in this, and janus is like a trad goth, so by looking at them you don't expect either of them to be able to bake

when Roman shows up he asks about Melissa (remus's ex and Pattons mom) and Remus just. shuts down. and immediately changes the subject and Janus, who overheard everything (he was eavesdropping, sue him) is like "hm... that's suspicious...."

#single dad au #you are a Godsend #you actually gave me motivation and a plot for this au that was just a vague idea #the bakery idea is so fucking CUTE

[theleigeofnerd]

An Accident, Really…

Word Count: 1254

Moceit fic for the soul☺️

Also mama Janus

Also mentions of basically neglect/abandonment? And loneliness. So if you don’t wish to read that, scroll past please.

—————————————————————

Janus was in the Dark Sides living room reading a book, a rare moment of peace away from two little-

“Heya Deceit!”

“Jesus Patton!” Listen, just because the moral side popping in on him wasn’t a necessarily uncommon event as of late doesn’t mean it didn’t scare the shit out of him.

“Oh sorry!”

“It’s fine Patton, what did you need…” That didn’t seem to make the apologetic look Patton gave him go away, but the fun side explained himself regardless.

“Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to have some hot coco with me? Logan’s busy and Roman’s doing who knows what in his room, he’s surprisingly productive for a 10-year-old, (I don’t see either of them often anymore)... You're the only other side I know about so…” If only you knew what little horrors I hide from you… Wait is that why you come down here so often? Unfortunately, Janus has others to take care of...

“My sincere apologies but I have duties that require my constant attention on my side of the mindscape, I don’t think it would be wise to leave-“

CRASH

“-SHIT!” That would be said duties… Janus booked it upstairs he knew it had to be those little shits, he loves them to death but right now they were a pain in the ass. What he did not know though was that Patton had followed him.

Janus kicked the door open to the one room he knew the sound had to of originated. There, fighting in their shared room was a 10-year-old Remus and 7-year-old Virgil. The room was destroyed, almost beyond repair. Beds, dressers, desks, even Virgil’s posters, nothing was spared from what could have been a hurricane if the culprits weren’t right there.

“ENOUGH!” Janus screeched, hiss slipping into his voice, six arms extended from him, ready to tear his boys' fight apart. The younger two sides stared on in terror as they were grabbed by the collars and lifted to face him in the angry snake eye. Only in that moment did they realize they messed up.

“Hi Mom!” Remus said nervously, hoping to distract the angry side away from the carnage, it failed. At least I tried...

“Don’t you ‘Hi Mom’ me, what have you two done to your room?!”

“Would you believe me if I said interior decorating?” Virgil chanced, but only got an angry tired sigh from the mother figure.

“Definitely don’t have this cleaned up by dinner or you’ll both be grounded, understood?” Janus threatened, the two young Dark Sides nodded and scrambled away from Janus and got to work. Janus walked out of his son’s room, only then did he realize Patton had followed him.

“You have kids?! There are others?!”

“Yes Patton, there are others.”

“You’re like their Mom.” Janus could feel the smile radiating from the moral side without having to even look at him. Oh, this is not going to be fun...

“I found them in the subconscious some time ago, on different occasions of course. I found the green one first, then the purple one.” He didn’t want to give up their names, it’s too, risky, let alone personal for a side and he didn’t want to take that away from them before they could so much as comprehend the significance of a name. There was power in a sides name, yet none of them seemed realized it-

“You ok there?” Janus was ripped from his thoughts by a mildly concerned Patton. By now they had almost made it to the kitchen.

“Yes, indeed-“ Janus shook his head “-infact I should probably start dinner before those two get hungry and try to eat my cleaning supplies again…”

“Oh! Um, I can help! Logan and Roman don’t leave their rooms often so it would be a table for one otherwise…” Patton looked down, he’s sad? Does this happen often? Ok, please don’t make me regret this you two...

“Alright, I was thinking spaghetti? Does that sound satisfactory to you?” Patton looked up and it looked like he’d been holding back tears, Is he lonely? This must happen often enough… The deceitful side’s heart ached, he knew loneliness before he had his sons. It had been years of darkness and the recently increasing visits from Patton. Janus would be the first to tell you about how much loneliness sucked. Patton’s expression painfully reminded him of when he first found Remus and Virgil, they both had worn that lost expression.

Janus huffed out a breath of air, once again being dragged from his thoughts, he didn’t mind. He was engulfed in a hug from Patton and his six arms decided to make another appearance to return the bone crushing hug.

“Thank you Deceit…” It was broken, like a glass tea set a toddler got a hold of. Janus judged it had been a few months at least since the last hug the supposedly always cheery side had received. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Patton’s company, he’s like the personification of a cinnamon roll. Neither of the parental sides knew it but the two little Dark Sides had watched from the top of the stairs.

“Oooo I like him! Do you think he’ll stay with us and Ma?!”

“Maybe Remus, maybe… We better finish soon, spaghetti doesn’t take long, and we don’t want a repeat of the last time we were grounded…”

“You’re right, I can still hear ringing in my ear sometimes…”

“I think it will be ok now, I like him too. He’s so… fluffy? Does that make sense?”

“About as much as a crocodile eating a birthday cake full of blood worms, when it’s not even anyone’s birthday.” Virgil rolled his eyes and dragged his brother to their room to avoid being grounded.

————————————————

Janus and Patton stood there like that for what seemed like hours, but could have been minutes. They basked in each other's presence. Feeling way too many emotions at once. It was silent for a long while until-

“Deceit, do you ever feel like you’re not enough, like you’ll always be alone-”

“Janus.”

“What?”

“That is my name…”

“Oh, I like it, it’s nice...”

“Thank you, but to answer your question, yes. But do you want to know what changed?-” Patton looked a little shocked at his answer, but nodded.

“-I found a family, one that cares and makes an effort.”

“Oh…” If only I could have that, I know Roman and Logan care but-

“Patton, you’re crying” Janus’ voice was soft and gentle. Patton hadn’t realized that he was crying. When was the last time he’d let himself cry? Janus took his gloved hand and wiped the streak of tears, but despite his efforts the dry face only lasted a few seconds.

“Oh Pat…’

“I’m fine, it’s fine, I know they care…”

“Pat please-“ Janus stopped for a few moments in thought, looking at Patton and nodded to himself. ”-Patton, do you- would you like to stay here?” Patton blinked away tears for a few seconds, then gained a look of resolve.

“I-I think I would like that very much…”

“Lovely, let’s make that spaghetti, ok?”

“Of course!”

To anyone else, the duo would appear to just be choosing to remain quiet while making the first of many family dinners, but it was a silent conversation. It was theirs, nobody else could have it. They reassured each other that it would be ok now, they had the other Dark Sides, they had each other...

————————————————————

#sander sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #dark sides #janus sanders #moceit #ts fic #familial anxceitmus #momceit

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 17

Valentine’s Day Gays

Chapter 16 | Masterlist | Chapter 18

Warning: Implied/referenced sex

Virgil sighed, flopping onto his bed. It’s now Valentine’s Day and Virgil had no one to hang out with. His schedule with visiting Patton, Logan, and Roman hadn’t changed much. Sure they got a little starry-eyed at times and they asked a surprisingly large amount of questions about his ‘friend’ Virgil, but their interactions were still the same. Anxiety flirted, they’d sometimes flirt back, and Virgil would leave with his head in the clouds and a hole in his chest. Today was different, however. Virgil already knew to steer clear of Janus and Remus, since they were always extremely mushy and/or horny on Valentine’s Day. Virgil was planning on visiting his crushes, but they had texted him yesterday. They had asked Virgil to tell ‘Anxiety’ that they wouldn’t be at work today. Apparently today was their 8-year anniversary of being in a poly relationship. Virgil sighed, a hollow feeling in his chest. What did he normally do on Valentine’s day? His eyes scanned the room, trying to find something to entertain himself. Guitar, movies, Patton’s drawing, books- wait a minute.

Virgil jumped up, grabbing the framed drawing of Pat, Lo, and Princey. Why was it still here? Virgil shipped it to Patton yesterday! Or did I? Virgil shook his head. Either way, the drawing’s here, and it should be with Patton. Virgil bit his lip, contemplating his options.

He could send it through the mail, but then it would take at least a day to reach Patton. It wouldn’t really be an anniversary gift then, would it? He would usually ask Janus to take it over, but he was, em… busy, with Remus today. That only leaves one option, doesn’t it?

Virgil sighed, standing up. He was about to send a text to Patton, but decided against it. Might as well leave it a surprise. He made sure he looked presentable before grabbing the drawing and walking out the door.

The walk to their house wasn’t too long, maybe 20 minutes at most, but it was long enough for doubts to settle in. Sure, he’d been to their house before, he still had pictures of their TPed house from Halloween. But he’d never visited while they were home. What if they got weirded out? God, what if Patton didn’t like the drawing? When he sends it through post it’s okay, since he can’t see their faces when they receive it. But handing it to them? That’s a whole other level of terrifying.

Before he knew it, Virgil was standing on their front porch, hand raised to knock. Technically, he could just leave the drawing on the porch, walk away, and text Patton to let him know it’s there. He wouldn’t have to show his face, or explain why he’s there, or see his rejection-

No. Virgil shook his head. He deserves better than that. They all do. Before he could second-guess himself, he quickly knocked on the door. He heard a noise from inside before the door started to open. Virgil quickly hid the drawing behind his back. The door opened to Roman, wearing loose sweatpants and no shirt-

Flirt Mode: ACTIVATED

Anxiety eyes purposefully raked over Princey’s body, memorizing every detail for… future activities. Roman blushed. “Anxiety, what a p-pleasant surprise.” He stammered out. “What brings you here?” He paused, tilting his head like a puppy. “And how do you know where I live?”

Anxiety smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve got a package to deliver. Apparently Virge forgot to send it yesterday, so I decided to drop it off for him. He’s the one who gave me your address.” He licked his lips. “Now, can I talk to Patton-cake? It’s his package, after all.”

Roman’s eyes were glued to Anxiety’s lips, and it took a few moments for him to respond. “Y-yes, of course.” He stepped aside. “Come in, come in.” Anxiety raised an eyebrow but stepped inside. Wasn’t expecting this, but okay. “Patton!” Roman called out. “You’ve got a package!”

“Coming!” There were a few moments of silence before Patton came rushing down the stairs. He wore light blue pajamas with silver hearts. His glasses were slightly skewed and his hair was ruffled. Logan followed him, wearing dark blue pajama bottoms with silver constellations. Like Roman, he wore no shirt. There were hickeys littering Logan’s chest and neck. Anxiety is now realizing two very important things:

He has never seen these three men in the same room, nor has he interacted with more than one of them at a time as Anxiety

He’s really gay

Anxiety whistled. “If I knew there’d be a show, I wouldn’t have taken so long to get here.” Both men squeaked, Logan burying his head in his lover’s shoulder. Which was quite cute, especially since Patton was shorter than Logan, which made Logan bend over slightly, angling his collarbone just right-

“Roman! You didn’t tell us that we have company!” Patton squeaked out, shaking Anxiety out of his gay trance.

Roman smirked. “Well, I didn’t want to keep Anxiety waiting. Besides, I didn’t lie about the package.”

“Yeah, apparently Virgil forgot to mail it yesterday.” Anxiety held out the frame face-down. “He said it was some sort of Valentine’s Day gift? He didn’t want it to come in late, so I offered to drop it off.”

Patton squealed, running over to grab the frame. He quickly turned it around, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, it’s perfect.”

Logan cleared his throat, a light blush still on his cheeks. “What is it, Patton?”

Patton held up the frame for Logan and Roman to see. It was an exact drawing of the photo Patton had sent. They were on a bench. Patton was giggling, Logan was blushing, and Roman was grinning like a fool. “Do you remember this?” Patton asked, his voice soft.

“That was our first date,” Roman said in awe.

Logan nodded. “February 23rd. Waverly Park.”

Patton turned back to Anxiety, his eyes shiny. “Please tell Virgil that we love this so, so much. It’s going right on the mantle!” He turned to the impressively large mantle, which housed Roman’s katana, Patton’s glass flowers, and now Virgil’s drawing. Logan’s telescope sat next to it on the floor. Patton turned back around to face Anxiety. “Oh, have you eaten yet? We have leftover muffins from this morning!”

Anxiety smiled, turning to follow Patton into the kitchen. “I’m sure I can squeeze in a few muffins. And if they’re anything like the muffins at your work, I know I’m gonna love ‘em.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 5

Chapter: 5/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches. “If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.” “Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair. Note: The cake is a lie metaphor

It's my job to be cleaning up this mess And that's enough reason to go for me It's my job to be better than the rest And that makes a day for me

Janus awoke to the sensation of something poking the underside of his wrist and a deep conviction that it was going to be one of those days. Mild pain in his wrist aside (what was that?), a sticky sense of malaise clung to his skin like saltwater and pressed into him harder than his blankets ever could.

Janus opened his eyes. Remus had evidently tucked him in, because he was under his blankets with his arms crossed over his chest like a corpse. He was still wearing the onesie and his gloves, and his hat rested on the nightstand beside him. Janus examined his right wrist and found that Remus had slipped a folded piece of paper into his glove, the corner of which was poking Janus in the wrist.

Adjusting his pillows as he went, Janus sat up and pulled the paper out of the glove.

There once was a Snake with a fast wit

Who fell for a Side with dad habits

Poor Janus was sprung

And hoped Patton was hung

So they could make love like two rabbits

"I'm going to kill him," Janus said evenly. He kept his wits about him when disposing of this new poem, merely flicking his wrist and sending it up like flash paper. It disappeared in one satisfying flare of white.

Janus nodded once and hauled himself out of bed. He didn't like that he'd fallen asleep in the common room not once, but twice now. It wasn't his style. He was the puppetmaster, the Lord of the Lies, the doorkeeper who dressed like an 1870s oil baron and took his coffee black like his soul. He didn't fall asleep on the couch.

At least it had been Remus to take him to bed. Janus wasn't sure what he'd do if he woke up in Patton's arms.

It didn't matter. Janus could rehabilitate his reputation today while he lounged around until he felt better. First of all, he had to get this accursed parrot onesie off.

As much as it pained him, he changed right back into his usual outfit. The stiff starched cotton was never the most comfortable even on the best of days, but today it chafed irritably against his skin.

He would have preferred a nice set of fleece-lined pajamas, but his fragile pride simply wouldn't let him go out like that. Not when he had already displayed such weakness in front of the others.

He slunk out of his bedroom and down the hallway in stocking feet, walking toe-heel to muffle the sound of his footsteps.

Logan gave him a curt nod from the couch as he passed; Janus tipped his hat in reply.

He passed the dining room table and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He had been aiming for the coffee pot, but stopped short at the sight of Patton seated on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees. It was the same position he had been in the night Janus found him in front of his door, and it made Janus go hot with worry.

Janus stared. Patton's shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, slow and even. He wasn't crying, then. Janus coughed into his fist.

Patton looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Oh, hey, Janus," he said like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to curl up on the kitchen floor on the verge of tears.

"Good morning," Janus said, going for the coffee maker for the sake of having something to do with his hands. "Please try to convince me you aren't upset about anything."

"It's nothing," Patton said.

Janus was more than content to leave it at that, since he didn't care about Patton's feelings. He poured ground coffee into the filter and shoved it into place with a little more force than was strictly necessary. His eyes fell on Patton when he turned to fill the coffee pot at the sink. Patton, with his shining eyes and quivering lip.

Fuck.

Janus poured the water from the coffee pot into the reservoir, slid the coffee pot into place, gently pressed the button. He stared at the coffee maker until the first drops fell into the coffee pot, tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. It would be so easy to just turn around and go back to the living room. He could even drop a hint and send Logan in. So why couldn't Janus move?

Oh, he knew why.

He set his jaw and turned around, staring down at Patton. "I'm great at consoling people," he said in a voice that came out wrong, all accusatory and angry.

"You don't have to," Patton said, not meeting his gaze. "It's not your job."

"No, I-- That's not what--" Excellent. Janus just loved getting tongue-tied like some flustered adolescent would-be Romeo. Good thing he wasn't defined by his silver tongue. "Feel free to jump in here."

"I don't want to tell you," Patton said in a low voice. "I don't want to make it your problem."

"Like I won't get it out of you one way or another." Janus sat down and crossed his legs, the better to look Patton in the eye without looming over him. Behind him, the coffee maker hissed and gurgled.

"I miss Roman and Virgil, that's all. I'm worried about them."

"I'm sorry I asked."

It was meant to be a joke, but Patton only looked more anguished. "I'm sorry! It's not your job to-- I don't want to make you feel like I blame you for what happened…"

Janus braced himself. "But…?"

"But nothing," Patton said. "I'm sorry; I know I'm being silly."

Ugh. Janus remembered the stab of guilt that had struck him when he'd realized that he might have hurt Remus. How panicked he felt at the idea that Remus might be angry with him. The fear in knowing that Remus' anger would be justified. A nauseating wave of empathy hit Janus with the force of a speeding semi-truck striking a pixelated frog. "Patton, you don't blame yourself do you?"

"I don't know." Patton's voice nearly cracked. He swallowed hard and looked, beseeching, at Janus. "I'm the one who… You know." He waved a hand, presumably to indicate 'morphed into a giant frog-man and tried to kill Thomas and his friends.'

Janus stood at a crossroads. Telling Patton it wasn't his fault would be tantamount to admitting his own guilt.

And hadn't he pushed Patton to the breaking point? Hadn't he aligned the pieces on the chess board? Hadn't he-- His head spun and his stomach dropped. Hadn't he puppeted Roman on his makeshift stage and cast him aside when he was no longer needed? Hadn't he?

But then again. Hadn't it been worth it? Janus would take all the turmoil of the past few days a thousand times over if it meant Thomas would listen to him . Janus had done what he'd had to do, and it had been a net gain for him.

Janus stood at a crossroads, and he walked straight between them, kicking up dust and rocks beneath his feet.

"It was an accident," he said to Patton. "Sometimes, things just happen and it's nobody's fault."

"I guess," Patton said, though he didn't look all that convinced. "You're probably right. You're usually right. You're really smart, Janus."

Janus waited for the other shoe to drop: some insult about his character or choices, but nothing came. Patton tilted his head. "Thank you," Janus choked.

He stood and wheeled around to face the coffee maker but nearly lost his balance and had to clutch the countertop for support. He would keep it to one cup of coffee today and spend the rest of the day hydrating and, more importantly, not having hard emotional conversations with people who made him want to re-examine his entire moral compass.

Not that Patton made him-- Oh, who was Janus kidding? Janus would walk one thousand miles through the desert on his knees if Patton asked him to.

So long as he could complain about it the whole time.

"I'm waffle-y sorry for being such a downer," Patton said. "Want me to make you breakfast?"

Janus stared at the drip-drip of the coffee as it fell into the pot. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Cook. It seems like a lot of work when you could just…" Janus snapped his fingers.

Patton either chose not to point out Janus' hypocrisy in brewing coffee or, more likely, didn't think to mention it. "Well, honestly, I like the work," he said. "It feels personal and… Well, it feels like love ."

Janus swallowed hard. "Oh," was all he could think to say. He stared at his warped reflection in the half-filled coffee pot.

"So," Patton said. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Janus lurched forward, putting more of his weight into his hands where they connected with the edge of the counter, and let his head hang. What was wrong with him? Words circled his head in a whirlwind and evaded all his attempts to string them together into complete thoughts.

“Janus?” Patton prompted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine ,” Janus snapped, acting on pure instinct.  He turned around and forced himself to look Patton in the eye. “Sorry.” The word felt foreign and uncomfortable in his dry mouth. “Yes, Patton. I would appreciate it very much if you made me breakfast.”

Patton took this behavioral change in stride, perhaps even with a knowing look in his eye. Janus realized with a creeping sense of unease that Virgil had probably been equally skittish when he’d made the move from Dark to Light. But Patton didn’t comment on Janus' disgusting predictability. He only smiled and said, “Great! Do you like blueberry pancakes?”

Janus didn’t, not really, nor was he particularly hungry. Janus said, “Yes” and forced himself to smile.

“Perfect." Patton half-turned away before turning back to Janus. “Oh, yeah! Logan said he had something he wanted to ask you.”

Janus manifested a coffee mug onto the counter (the same black and yellow ouroboros one that Patton had visualized for him) and reached for the coffee pot. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No!” Patton yelped. “I’d actually really like it if you stayed in here with me. Not that I can’t be alone with my thoughts! Because I can and I’m fine. But you’re still kind of an unknown and that scares me and I’d like to get to know you better-- Oh, gosh, um, not that you scare me! I don’t think you’re scary. Unless you want me to think you’re scary? I know Virgil kind of had a whole complex about that. N-not that I think you and Virgil are necessarily anything alike!”

Someday, Janus was going to let Patton keep going just to see how deep he would dig himself. But today was not that day. Today, Janus wanted to sit down and take care of this exhaustion before it turned into something worse. “Patton, relax.”

“I’m relaxed!” Patton said, his shoulders hiked up nearly to his ears.

“I was just teasing you.”

“I knew that.” Patton flushed and pushed his glasses up. “Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Already forgotten.” Janus smiled, actually smiled to reassure Patton that he wasn’t angry. Because he didn’t want Patton to be scared of him. Pain bored into the back of Janus’ skull like a railroad spike propelled by dynamite. Two aspirin jumped into his hand before he even realized he had summoned then. He swallowed them with a mouthful of piping hot coffee and only just managed not to cough.

“You okay?” Patton asked.

A thousand sarcastic misdirections died on Janus’ lips. “Just a headache.”

Patton nodded.

For a moment, they stared at each other with eyes locked. It was Janus who turned away, covering his face under the pretense of swiping his hair out of his eyes. “I’d better go see what Logan wants.”

He fled the warmth and earnestness of Patton’s presence and the trenchant blade of his own desire. When he reached the living room, he forced himself to calm down and took a seat in one of the recliners that stood perpendicular to the couch so he could face Logan. “You had a question for me?”

Logan vanished the book he was reading before Janus could get a good look at the cover. Damn, that could have provided useful insight into Logan's interests. “More of a request for information, to be perfectly clear," Logan said. "I’m interested in Remus.”

“Well,” Janus said, seizing the opportunity for a bit of fun, “I’m not so sure he feels the same way about you, but I suppose I could make an inquiry.”

Logan kept his face blank but Janus could tell from the way his irises twitched and his cheeks darkened that he had understood the joke and was choosing not to acknowledge it. “I’m sorry; I should have been more clear. What I meant is that I am interested to know more about Remus as an individual. A ‘person,’ if you will.”

“I will.” Logan raised an eyebrow and drew the corners of his mouth down in an expression of tense irritation. “You don’t like being teased,” Janus said out loud.

“I don’t find it conducive to productive conversation, no.”

“Well, far be it from me to want to impede scientific advancement.” Janus touched his fingertips to his chest. “Did you have any specific questions about Remus?”

“Yes.” Logan leaned in, a new spark in his eyes. “I was curious about his behavior last night. He was only interested in staying when he felt that he wasn’t wanted-- When he was considered ‘intrusive.”

“Yes.”

“Is that behavior inherent or learned?”

Janus thought for a moment. Logan didn’t like sarcasm. He didn’t want to be teased. So Janus steeled himself and told the truth. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”

Logan nodded, head bowed in disappointment. “I had feared you might say that. In that case, Janus, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Janus tried not to wince. He was tired. He really wasn’t in the mood to navigate the potential minefield of Remus as a topic of conversation. On the other hand, he could use all the favor he could get for the inevitable moment that Roman and Virgil emerged and protested his newfound position in the Light. Logan could be a strong ally in that conflict. “Oh? Let’s hear it.” He settled back in his chair and stared at Logan over the top of his coffee mug. At least the headache had receded a little, now only flaring up when he turned his head too fast.

“I am more than happy to speak to Remus directly. In fact, I would prefer it. However, last night demonstrated that Remus is unwilling to engage in social situations where his presence is desired. His rapport with you suggested that this may not always be the case. So I drew the tentative conclusion that you may be able to act as liaison between Remus and me until he feels comfortable conversing with me directly, assuming that time does come. If he really doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force the matter.”

Janus took what Logan had said and distilled it to its core: “You want me to arrange a meeting between you and Remus.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Anytime soon?”

“Logically speaking, there’s no hurry,” Logan said, his face neutral. Too neutral.

Janus considered this. “You’re excited,” he said, a smile growing on his face. Ugh, he was excited that Logan was excited. Since when did he care about Logan’s personal growth?

Logan swallowed hard, the line of his jaw sharp and tense. “...Yes,” he said finally. “I am excited. And I don’t wish to impose, but I would prefer you spoke to him sooner rather than later.”

Really, what Janus said next was selfish. “I’ll talk to him today.” It was selfish because it was for his own benefit. Really. If he was responsive to Logan’s desires then Logan would view him in a more favorable light and be more likely to defend him against Roman and Virgil when the time came. That was all. Janus didn’t care about the happiness of pawns and puppets.

Yet still his chest filled with inexplicable warmth and light when Logan smiled (yes, smiled) and said, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches.

“If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.”

“Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair.

Logan stared at him, eyes calculating. “You may do yourself harm if you hold that position for very long. Ergonomically speaking, the best position for optimal back health is reclining.”

“If you’re going to insist…” Janus scooted back up and pulled the handle, holding up his coffee so it didn’t spill as the chair shifted.

Logan tilted his head. “I wasn’t insisting. I gave you information so you could make an informed decision about how you wanted to sit.”

“...Thanks.” Janus took a long drink of coffee, thought for a moment, and manifested a book that he thought might catch Logan’s attention. He made a show of finding his place in it, and sure enough, Logan shifted like he wanted to say something. Janus looked at him over the top of the gilded hardback copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra; the most audacious thing he could think of in the moment. He had to balance it with one hand, as the other was still holding his coffee mug, and the spine dug painfully into his leg. He looked at Logan and raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Logan shook his head to indicate he had nothing to say. He summoned his own book, the one he had been reading earlier and, with a look of faux innocence that ill-suited him, turned the cover toward Janus just long enough for him to observe that it was an old chemistry textbook before laying it open on his lap.

Janus sniffed and turned the page in Thus Spoke Zarathustra , not at all embarrassed at having been caught out.

--

Breakfast meant facing Patton again, which meant dizzy butterflies in Janus' stomach. At least Logan was there, and his presence helped mitigate whatever sinister magic powers Patton had that made Janus go all warm and soft and giddy in his presence.

Janus cut his pancakes into smaller and smaller pieces and drank orange juice like his life depended on it while Patton and Logan revisited an old argument about whether Thomas should adopt a puppy (or several).

They left Janus out of it, which he appreciated for once. Today, he was more than happy to half-listen and dismember his pancakes. It was easier to eat when Patton wasn’t paying attention to him, anyway; the nervous nausea receded like the tide in the absence of the moon of Patton’s focus.

When Janus had downed his fourth glass of orange juice and realized he was bored, he forced himself to tune into Patton and Logan’s argument so he could find a place to strike and excuse himself. There were other, more aggressive ways to command attention, but he wasn’t in the mood to raise his voice or ‘accidentally’ drop his fork, so he waited with his hands folded in his lap.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he abandoned propriety and interrupted. “Do you plan to finish anytime soon or do you intend to hold me hostage here all morning?”

“Oh, sorry, champ.” Patton turned to him, eyes wide and beseeching. “We usually all just talk over each other.”

"Oh, please do call me that again."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. Can't you tell?"

"Sorry, Janus." Patton smiled. "Don't worry, though! I'll find a nickname you like."

"Anything's better than 'reptilian rapscallion,' I guess," Janus muttered. "Anyway. I have business to attend to."

"Okay!" Patton said cheerily. "But one of these days it's gonna be your turn to wash the dishes!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out. They could have that argument another day.

He found Remus in the living room making a Jenga tower out of chicken bones.

"Business or pleasure?" Janus asked, trying not to sway into the coffee table. It was hard to tell with Remus.

"You drunk?" Remus asked, placing another chicken bone on the tower.

"Hammered," Janus said. He perched himself gingerly on the arm of the couch, though what he really wanted was to collapse with his head in Remus' lap. In any case, a little flattery was in order. "I got your limerick."

"And?"

"It was horrifying, thank you. I burned it."

Remus nodded his approval. "So did you miss me or what?"

"I need a favor."

"From me?" Remus puffed out his cheeks. "Who pissed you off? I haven't heard Roman's dulcet declarations from yonder curtain yet."

"I thought we'd moved past Shakespearean sonnets."

"Sorry, Snakespeare." Remus shrugged. "Some habits are hard to break."

"Mmph." Janus rested his elbow on his knee and his forehead in his palm. He just had to finish up here and then he could have the rest of the day off.

"Sooo who do I need to threaten and/or maim?" Remus asked.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut. "Actually, there's no violence involved. It's a real favor, Remus."

"Well, now you have my attention." Remus shifted on the couch, the beads of his shirt rattling. "Are you dying? You have to tell me if you're dying. And let me watch. And dissect your body. And use your skull as a goblet. Ooh, and--"

"I'm tired." Janus lifted his head and came nose-to-nose with Remus, who was peering at him with his eyes opened as wide as they could go. "And I need you to talk to Logan."

"Oh, yeah? Ol' Tight Ass getting on your nerves? Need me to scare him a little?"

Janus pressed his forehead into Remus'. "No."

"Ooh, you're warm."

Janus tugged at his collar. "It's not like I'm wearing layers or anything."

"So why do I have to hang out with All Time Lo?"

Janus usually cloaked his dealings with Remus in a few layers of reverse psychology and the occasional double entendre for good measure. Today, he just said, "Please."

Remus frowned and drew back. "You're sure you're not dying? Pope John Patton III isn't slowly poisoning you, is he?"

"He doesn't have the guts," Janus said. Remus' eyes lit up so he quickly added, "And I don't want to see yours."

"Aww."

"And if you really want to know… Logan wants to talk to you. As a person."

"And what does this have to do with you?"

Janus sighed and finally gave into his desire to flop over onto the couch. He ended up splayed over Remus' lap with his limbs twisted at uncomfortable angles, but couldn't be bothered to right himself. "Logan asked me to ask you because he rightfully guessed that you wouldn't respond to a direct invitation because you have a complex about showing up where you're not wanted unless I'm involved."

"And you said yes because …?"

"You're right, it's not like me at all to want to have something over someone else." No use showing his whole hand unless he absolutely had to.

"Do you like it over there?' Remus asked. "Is it better than…" He waved his hands.

If Janus owed any side honesty, it was Remus. So he sighed and made an effort to speak plainly; no filibusters about the subjective nature of 'better' and 'worse,' no cryptic half-answers. "I want it for you, Remus. It's tense and it's uncomfortable, but this half-acceptance feels more like home than you could ever conceive of from the shadows. It is better. But it won't be enough until you're there, too."

"Jesus, Janus." Remus fake-gagged a few times. "They're turning you into one softboiled snake." But he shifted and gently arranged Janus' head in his lap, placing Janus' hat on his own head. He ran his fingers through Janus' hair and smoothed his bangs out of his face. Like Janus, Remus preferred to disguise his intentions, usually with irony and shock value. They understood each other in that regard. But now, Remus spoke in calmer tones, and lowered his voice. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"If you really do have a thing for Patton--"

"I don't--"

"If you did. I really do hope it works out for you. And I know… There's a change involved with crossing over--"

"I won't--"

Remus placed his hand over Janus' mouth. "I just hope it works out for you, that's all. And I'll talk to Logan. Since you asked."

Janus knew better than to lick Remus' hand. Instead, he kissed it.

"Ew!" Remus yanked his hand back and made a show of wiping it off on his pants. "Save your love and affection for the Guilt Trip Tour Guide." He grabbed Janus by the shoulders and sat him up, placing his hat back on his head. "Now where's Logan?"

"You're doing it now?" Janus coated his disappointment in a veneer of skepticism; he could have easily fallen asleep in Remus' lap if Remus had held still for a few minutes longer.

"Might as well rip the Band-Aid off," Remus said. "And a few layers of skin, too. Did you know that your top layer of skin is called the horny layer?"

"Charming," Janus said.

"I aim to please," Remus said. He stood and did a little shimmy.

"Guaranteed to satisfy," Janus agreed.

Remus sank out, leaving Janus alone on the couch. He forced himself to get up before he fell asleep, and walked over to the curtain to listen for a few seconds. There was no sound of screaming, no sound of Remus cackling in fiendish delight, so Janus had to assume that everything was going smoothly.

He sank out and chose to manifest back in the Light Sides' living room. Now he could relax, because he certainly wasn't worried about how Remus' interaction with Logan would go.

"Hi, Janus!" Patton said, springing up from the floor.

If Janus had been startled by this, he would have jumped and gasped, but since he wasn't, he remained still. His heart rattled against his ribcage until he could feel it in his stomach. He took in a breath so deep it made his lungs ache and sat down on the couch. "Patton."

"What are you up to?"

"...Training for the Olympic canoe slalom."

Patton blinked. "So you have time to talk?"

"I suppose…" Janus said, trying to telegraph his irritation without making Patton think that Janus was mad at him. It was a delicate operation, and Janus must have erred too far on the side of caution, because Patton's smile never faltered for a moment. "Great."

He sat down next to Janus, and the inches between their bodies pierced Janus' heart like a deadly insult. But he knew better than anyone that it took more than desire to breach a gap. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Of course not!" Patton said. "I'm not-- I mean, I don't think I-- Oh. You're teasing."

"Good of you to notice."

"Um, anyway. I wanted to, um… I wanted…"

"Take your time. I've got all day." Though he played it off as such, the yawn that Janus stifled behind his hand wasn't fake.

"I want to talk about philosophy with you!" Patton said all in one breath.

"Oh," Janus said. He studied the back of one gloved hand. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We can start small."

"I take it you had something in mind?"

Patton nodded vigorously. "Ends and means."

Janus swallowed. "Well," he said, feeling for all the world like he had just walked into a trap. "By all means, start us off."

"Um," said Patton. "Well. Um." He cleared his throat. "Ah."

"Fascinating. Go on?"

"I'm trying to think of an example that doesn't involve," Patton dropped his voice to a whisper, "murder."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Okay, I don't know, let's say I had this really awesome recipe for strawberry shortcake. And, uh, Logan was trying to make one from scratch for Ro-- For your birthday."

"Mmhm." Janus raised the corners of his lips in what was supposed to be an encouraging smile while he feverishly tried to figure out where Patton was going with this. Preferably before Patton got there, so he could steer the conversation as needed.

"And say Logan was making a real mess of it, and I knew you would be disappointed to receive a not-so-good cake for your birthday. So I go into the kitchen and try to nicely hint that Logan should use my recipe, but he's not having it. Now, I really want you to have a nice birthday cake, so I finally snap and tell Logan that he's no good at baking and he needs to listen to me. And he gets upset and doesn't come to your birthday party, but I make you an awesome strawberry shortcake and you really enjoy it. And all the guests have a wonderful time, even though a few of them really miss Logan and wish he was there."

"Ah, yes," said Janus. "Rousseau's famous strawberry shortcake thought experiment." He rubbed his thumb across his temple a few times. The sooner he helped Patton get to his point, the sooner he could finally relax. "What's the question?"

"Since everybody at the party was happy, including you, the birthday boy, did the ends justify the means?"

Janus squinted, but Patton's face was the very picture of innocence. "It's Logan's fault," he said slowly, "for letting his emotions cloud the bigger picture. If he had just listened to you in the first place , no one would be upset."

"So the ends justified the means because the result was good?"

"Sure. You knew that your plan was the better one."

"So you could say that I was entitled to behave in a way that hurt Logan? Because I knew better than he did?"

"That's what I said," Janus snapped. He took a deep breath through his nose. Patton was behaving with picture-perfect decorum, so Janus had no need to lash out like a cornered animal. "I'm saying Logan shouldn't be hurt. He should think for 3 seconds and realize that he was standing in the way of the greater good."

"But he is hurt," Patton said. "I hurt him. There's no 'should' about it."

"What do you think, then?"

"Obviously I think I should apologize to Logan!" Patton said. "I had no right to hurt him like that."

"So you don't think there's any end result that would have justified those means."

"That's right," Patton said, nodding so hard that his glasses slid to the tip of his nose. "Being mean is a bad means. And maybe someone smarter than me has already said it in better words, but I don't think anyone has the right to hurt another person, no matter what the end goal is. Um, e-especially over something as small as cake."

Janus' first choice of response to this was a new thought experiment involving murder. But that felt a little mean-spirited, even for him and oh, the ends of winning a debate against Patton wouldn't have justified the means of playing dirty to do so. Janus buried his face in his hands. "What if you didn't care about Logan?" he murmured into his gloved palms. Pain pulsed through his head.

"What?" Patton said.

Janus moved his hands so only his mouth was uncovered. "What if you didn't care about Logan? What if you thought he was a pompous ass whose only relevance to you was as an obstacle between you and making a really awesome cake ?"

"My answer hasn't changed," Patton said. "And it's not going to."

"What if you explained yourself and Logan humiliated you in front of everyone ?" Janus used his fingertips to apply pressure to his browbone, but the pain only increased.

"His wrong wouldn't negate my wrong," Patton said gently. He rested his hand on Janus' knee.

Fireworks exploded behind Janus' eyelids. Why did it have to be Patton ? And why did Patton have to be right? He'd even gone to the trouble of presenting his point in Janus' preferred terms, even if his debate skills left something to be desired. "You can go ahead and give me the lecture if you want," Janus mumbled. Shame burned bright and hot inside him and flames danced along the seams of his clothing, pinpricks of irritation on his skin.

"Janus, look at me." Patton's thumb rubbed small circles on Janus' knee.

Janus dropped his hands. The light flashed into his eyes and made him flinch. "Go ahead."

"I don't want to lecture you," Patton said. "I mean, a part of me does. But I realize now that I can't just do that. The only authority I have over you is the authority you want to give me, and I have a feeling that's not much."

Janus scoffed. "You'd be surprised." He looked at Patton's hand and clenched his own into two fists. "I'll… I'll think about apologizing to Roman. I'm getting good at it, these days."

Patton jerked his head up and something seemed to click for him, an unasked question answered. "You apologized to Logan."

Janus nodded, but no happiness touched his heart at the look of approval in Patton's eyes. He just felt shaky and sick and very, very tired. "I didn't mean to, but…"

"You realized you'd hurt him?"

"It helps that he didn't mock me to my face." A particularly intense wave of pain flashed from the base of Janus' skull to his temples and he winced. On impulse, he dug his fingers into the side of his head just beneath the brim of his hat. It didn't help.

"Does your head still hurt?" Patton asked.

Janus nodded. No sense lying now, not about something as petty as this, and especially not now that Patton had a floodlight on him. If Janus was playing 4D chess, he was doing so on the 20 yard line of Patton's football field and he kept. getting. tackled. "It's getting worse."

"Do you usually get headaches like this?"

"No."

"Well," Patton patted Janus' knee and withdrew his hand. "It's been a stressful few days."

Janus blinked, staring at the spot where Patton's hand had been. His thoughts came slow and syrupy.

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

Janus struggled to keep his eyes open. The gentle honey-toned lights of the living room might as well have been high wattage LEDs beamed straight into his retinas. He blinked away tears. "I'm sorry." Patton gave him a sad smile. Janus continued, brushing away a tear that clung stubbornly to his upper lashes. "I pushed you to your breaking point on purpose. I used you. I-- I tried to push you down for the sake of pulling myself up." Pain flashed through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. "I don't even know if I'm doing this right," he admitted. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but… Hurting you got me what I wanted."

"Hey, kid-- Janus, I think you'd better call it a day," Patton said. There was a nervous edge to his voice that Janus didn't have the mental bandwidth to try to decipher. "Try to sleep off that headache, okay? We can talk about this later."

The pain was so all-consuming, so violent in its demands for Janus' full attention that he wasn't even capable of defending his pride. A vague, hollow shame made its home in his chest. He stood, joints protesting, but Patton stopped him before he could sink out.

"You don't have to go."

Janus nodded and sank back down onto the couch, slowly, so Patton had time to stand up and get out of his way. It made sense. It wasn't like Patton was going to stroke his hair and share his warmth just because Janus wanted it.

Even if he asked.

Patton said something that Janus didn't quite make out before he slipped into unawareness.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: it's my job - jimmy buffett

[kiapet2]

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 9: The Part Where He Kills You

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: It's the part where he kills you.

Chapter Warnings: Attempted Murder (obviously), Not-Really-Unsympathetic Sides

“Well,” Janus says, “This is the part where he kills us.”

“Hello!” Remus says cheerfully, peering down at you from another video screen. “This is the part where I kill you!”

Looking at the spiked plates surrounding you, you realize this is, in fact, the part where he kills you.

(this is that part)

“Y’know, I thought about a lot of ways I could do this,” Remus says. “I could make toxic sludge rain into the room and see how long it took to kill you if you weren’t actually submerged in it. I could flood the room with neurotoxin and watch you choke and twitch as you die. I even thought about grabbing you and tearing you limb from limb! I wonder which would pop off first- maybe your arms? I dunno, what do you think?”

You don’t answer, instead looking around yourself as subtly as you can, looking for a way out. The platform you’re standing on is small, barely five feet from end to end, and below you is a deep pit that extends into nothingness. You could chance a jump, but with no way of knowing what’s at the bottom that’s just as likely to kill you as save you.

Above you, Remus is still talking. “But in the end I figured, why mess with a classic, right? I mean, the crushing power of metal, mixed with the stabbiness of spikes? Sheer poetry!”

Something catches your eye- a speck of white, a flash of movement. Bits of conversion gel are dripping in the distance and collecting on an outcropping. You shoot your blue portal there, and the white liquid begins to drip through the portal.

Great, now the testing chamber you just left is covered in portal surfaces. Not helping you much.

“Anyways, if you’ve got anything to say before I make you into hamburger meat, now’s the time, Tommy-boy!” Remus says.

“Hole in the wall, Eleven o’clock,” Janus mutters, and you feel yourself break into a smile as you see it.

“I do have something to say, actually,” you say loudly.

You shoot the orange portal through the hole, onto the portal surface beyond, and step aside to keep from being coated as a big glob of moon rock liquid flies towards you and then splatters onto your platform.

You look Remus’ image straight in the eye. “Thanks for teaching me about Conversion Gel.”

Then you shoot the blue portal onto the newly white-coated ground and jump in, popping out from the orange portal and landing on a metal catwalk on the other side of the hole, just as the spike plates obliterate where you just were standing.

“Oho!” Remus calls as you turn and begin to run down the catwalk. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for! I’ll just have to get creative, then.”

The catwalk jerks below you, and Janus cries, “Jump!” as it begins to give way.

You launch yourself forwards just as the catwalk falls out from under you, and land hard on your side on another.

“Think fast,” Remus sing-songs, and you frantically roll out of the way as a massive spike-plate slams where you just were, crushing the catwalk beneath it.

You scramble to your feet and use a pair of portals to cross the new gaping hole in front of you.

“Nice one!” Remus says. “But let’s see how fast you really are.”

You let out a rare curse as the walls on either side of you groan and begin to move closer together.

You fall into a sprint, lungs tightening and tired legs screaming at the new exertion. The opposite wall grows closer slowly, too slowly. You’re not going to make it.

Spinning wildly, you look desperately around yourself for some sort of way out. The walkway groans as the walls begin pushing on it, and you can feel it start to warp under your feet.

There! A small square of Portal surface, high above you. You shoot one Portal onto it, then turn and shoot the other onto one of the encroaching walls, now uncomfortably close. You jump through and come out the other, higher portal, landing on top of one of the “walls” which from this perspective looks more like a box. With a jerking motion the box shifts direction, now moving upwards.

“Down,” Janus says urgently, and you look down to see an opening in the floor near you. You jump down just as the huge box you’re on slams into the ceiling, making the whole thing rattle and shake.

The shaking probably saves your life, because when you land in the room below you, the several turrets you are faced with seem momentarily distracted by the jarring motion. You quickly shoot one portal on the wall behind the turrets and another below your feet, popping out behind the turrets’ ranks and quickly knocking them over.

“Left,” Janus says, and you run through a door and onto another catwalk, until you go through another door and finally put your feet on solid ground.

Some amount of time later, Janus finally says, “We should be safe here,” and you immediately flop down onto the ground, taking gasping breaths. You really need to stop getting into these situations with people trying to kill you; you don’t know how much more running and jumping your body can take.

“You could have at least set me down nicely,” Janus says, voice strangely muffled, and you look over and realize that you put down the portal gun so that he’s pressed against the floor. Fighting back the urge to laugh, you reach over and roll the gun so that Janus is facing up and towards you.

“Honestly, you’re that wiped from a few minutes of running? You living creatures are so fragile, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.”

“Says the person who spent the entire time being carried,” you groan, but it’s without heat. You wave an arm in Janus’ general direction. “Give me a sec, I’ll be up in no time.”

“Oh of course you will,” Janus says, sugar-sweet, because he’s a jerk like that.

You lie on the ground for a few minutes, feeling your heart rate slow as your adrenaline high comes down. With it comes the crash, a wave of fatigue that washes over you. When you start struggling to keep your eyes open, you figure it’s probably a sign you need to get up now.

“Alright,” you grunt, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, “Let’s go.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus says.

Your stomach churns with sudden anger and worry. “You’re going back on our deal?”

“No,” Janus says, as cool and collected as ever. “But our deal involves helping you stay alive, and you currently are not up to even basic kinds of physical activity or intense thinking, much less those associated with portals.”

“What?” you say, blinking at him. “I’m good, I’m… I’m fine. I can do it.”

“How long have you been up and moving by now? Days? You’re literally nodding off as we speak.”

You forcibly open your eyes, blinking again. “No I’m not.”

“Honestly, and they call me a liar.”

Janus’ voice grows firm. “I will not do a single thing to help you until you have gotten some sleep. We have enough time to spare right now, and I will wake you if anything about the situation changes.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do I know you’re not trying to distract me, so I won’t be in time to help my friends?”

Janus huffs. “Oh, come now, even you must realize you’ll be no good to your friends if you get yourself killed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but unlike the rest of us, you are not a machine.”

His voice softens. “Take some time to rest, Thomas.”

“I- okay,” you say finally. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, alright?”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Janus says, sounding vaguely amused.

You lay down and close your eyes, shifting as you try to make yourself comfortable on the hard floor. Your brain won’t slow down, too many hours of fighting for your life making it difficult to relax.

You crack one eye open again. “Janus?”

The light flickers back on. “I do need my own rest too, you know. Potato battery, remember? I’m absolutely made of power right now.”

“Can I ask you a question, real quick?”

“Absolutely not,” Janus deadpans. “Remove yourself from my presence at once.”

“Cool.” You flip onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands as you peer down at the potato.

“Why cake?”

There’s a pause as Janus registers the question. Then he says, a shrug in his voice, “You needed a reward to motivate you. Why not cake?”

You mull that over. Why not cake, indeed. “Was there ever actually going to be a cake?”

“Put me back in charge, and you’ll find out,” Janus says dryly. “Now will you please go to sleep?”

Smiling to yourself, you roll over and pillow your head on one arm, and before you know it you’re drifting off.

You wake to a tremor that shakes the floor you’re sprawled across and makes the walls audibly rattle. Your first, sleepy thought is that there’s somehow been an earthquake in Florida. Then you remember where you are and what situation you’re in, and bolt upright.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Janus says. “That rumble probably means the Core is getting unstable. We need to get going now.”

“Alright,” you say, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes and painfully getting to your feet. Your muscles are stiff from sleeping on them after so much exercise; hopefully they’ll loosen up as you get moving.

You look down at the potato. “You said you knew where the others were. So let’s go find them.”

“That may not be the best course of action to take,” Janus says carefully. “This facility is actively deteriorating, and the time we would spend finding them may be time we don’t have.”

“We’re finding them first,” you say firmly. “We’ll stand a better chance at stopping Remus and saving this place as a group, and there’s no way I’m leaving them lost, scared or in danger, not when I can help.”

Janus heaves a dramatic sigh. “If you insist. I took Patton down to the space below the Control Chamber. It’s perfectly safe, mostly a storage space really, but I doubt he’s moved far. Roman is harder to judge, but given that he fell through the floor I’d guess he’s either in the same place, or on one of the floor below.”

“Alright,” you say, thinking that over. “I guess let’s start with where you know Patton is, and then we can look for Roman if he isn’t there as well.”

“A sound enough plan, I suppose,” Janus says. “You’ll want to go down this hallway and then climb up the service ladder; if it’s broken, you’ll have to get creative.”

And just like that, you’re off. At first, the only communication is Janus’ instructions, and the occasional debate at how to traverse a particularly difficult space. It’s when you’re nearing your destination that he finally picks the conversation back up.

“You seem to care about the other Cores a great deal, considering the fact that you’ve known them for a few days at most,” Janus says, sounding almost curious.

Memories flash through your head: Test chambers that should have been sterile and empty, instead filled with encouragement, laughter, good-natured bickering. Sitting in a circle in a rusty old hideaway, singing barely-remembered songs and talking wistfully about the sky. Patton giving you that bright, crinkle-eyed smile as he declares, “Well it’s settled then! We’re a family.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I care about them. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to make sure they’re alright. Because that’s what they’d do for me.”

Janus scoffs. “Sentimental idiots, the lot of you.”

“Oh?” you say, trying and failing to keep the heat out of your voice, “And what would you have me do? Just abandon them?

“They can take care of themselves,” Janus says. “As should you. Through that grate, to your left.”

“So that’s it?” you say, shooting a portal through the grate and using it to get to the other side, “every man for himself?”

“With the exception of mutually beneficial arrangements such as ours,” Janus replies smoothly.

You shake your head. “Sounds like a miserable way to live.”

“For a human, maybe. AIs lack such base needs as so-called ‘friendship.’” If Janus had a nose, you’re pretty sure he’d be sticking it up right now.

“Are you really saying that you’ve never cared for anyone?” you say. “That you’ve never had someone you would risk everything for, just because you couldn’t bear to see them hurt or unhappy?”

There’s a pause. Then Janus says, voice flat, “No. Never.”

You’ve heard Janus say a lot of blatantly false things- heck, you’ve heard him pretend he didn’t just try to kill you after literally dumping you into a furnace- but you don’t think you’ve ever been as sure as you are now that Janus is lying.

“Thomas!” someone shouts. “Thomas, over here!”

Heart leaping in your chest, you turn to see Roman, lying in a pile of rubble in the corner of the room you just entered. You rush forward and dig him out with your hands, grinning ear to ear.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Roman says. “I guess the prince was the one in need of rescuing this time, huh?”

“We can take turns,” you say, picking your portal gun back up and using it to lift him.

“Uh, Thomas? Why do you have a potato on your portal gun?” Roman says.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s Janus.”

“That’s-” Roman chokes, looking at the potato more intently, before said potato yells “boo!” and he flinches backwards with a high-pitched shriek.

“Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist,” Janus says smoothly. “Yes, I am currently in potato form, and am working with Thomas as well. Any questions?” The last sentence has a slight sarcastic twinge to it.

“So many,” Roman says candidly, “But it can wait. Are you going to find Padre?”

“That’s the plan,” you say.

Roman nods. “Set me down here; you’ll be able to carry him if you find him, that way.

“Are you sure?” you ask, worried.

“It is a prince’s job to sacrifice for the common folk!” he says with a dramatic flourish.

“Alright,” you say with a smile, setting him down gently in a secure spot. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“I know you will,” Roman says.

The area below the Control Chamber is less of a floor and more of a crawlspace, interspersed with coiled grabby hands, retracted pistons, and who knows what else, and you very quickly find yourself grateful you didn’t bring Roman. Still, Janus guides you through it, and before long you see the familiar light blue eyelight of your friend.

“Thomas!” Patton squeals when he sees you. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so glad you found me! Wait, why do you have a potato on your portal gun?”

“Oh, that’s just Janus,” you say casually. “Remus uploaded him into a potato battery.”

“Oh, dear,” Patton says, “That sounds like a tatorrible situation to be in!”

You snort at the pun, then say, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I got caught up in something of a mess.”

“That’s alright, kiddo,” Patton says. “I’m sure whatever you were doing, it was good and necessary.”

“I don’t know, Patton,” you say. “It feels like, whenever I’ve actually managed to do something here, it’s always ended up backfiring on me.”

“I still think you’re doing the best you can in a bad situation,” Patton says. I mean, waking up miles underground, with no memory, no food or water, a crazed machine trying to kill you…”

“Oh please do continue, it’s not like I can hear you or anything,” Janus says.

“You haven’t had the time to sit down and make an informed choice,” Patton continues, ignoring him. “You’re doing your best with what you have. And honestly, kiddo, the fact that we’re all still alive tells me that you’ve been doing a pretty good job. I mean, you found me, didn’t you? You didn’t have to go to all the trouble to do that- but you did, because you care. If you ask me, that means a lot.”

You find yourself tearing up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Patton.”

Patton smiles up at you. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

When you head back to pick up Roman, you find one more Core than you were expecting.

“Hey,” Virgil says. “Thought I might find you here. I’m glad you made it through alright.”

“You and me both,” you say ruefully. “What have you been up to since I talked with you last?”

Virgil shrugs. “Looked around a bit. Ended up going to where I knew Logan was. He had me take him to a certain room, something about neurotoxin generators, and then sent me back out to find you. Which, I did, so yay me I guess?” He does an awkward thumbs up, which makes you laugh.

“Alright, then,” you say, hefting Patton while Virgil grabs hold of Roman, “take me to where Logan is.”

The room Virgil leads you into is huge, with a tall ceiling and a catwalk extending over a massive pit. Taking up its center is a tall, thin structure that almost reminds you of a spider, with a long metal body and pipes coming out from it like legs. It’s intimidating, and you instinctively take a step back at the sight.

“Ah, Thomas, excellent timing,” Logan says, “Help me destroy this, would you?”

#aperture sides facility #my writing #ts storytime #I specifically added chapter titles and chapter summaries just to make this joke #worth it

[babysizedfics]

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Bonus chapter: Yellow

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Janus detects a lie.

Chapter word count: 1,800

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warnings: light angst, very mild blood via a bitten lip, and brief, hypothetical mentions of disembowelment and decapitation (Remus, amirite?)

oOo

Janus sipped at his chamomile tea, only faintly registering the bright yellow haze that overcame the left side of his vision. Another lie.

His vision would flare several times a day at least, always informing him of an untruth spoken by one of the sides. He was, of course, accustomed to this alert, having lived with this power for the entirety of his existence.

As the hot herbal drink soothed his aching throat (it was murder on the lungs to reprimand Remus so much), he indulged in his curiosity and closed his eyes. With a practised concentration, he mentally reached out for the false words that had sounded his silent alarm.

It was Patton’s voice. The version of Patton’s voice that Janus had deemed “daddy dialect” in the recent weeks. ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

Janus scoffed.

The lies he was so accustomed to hearing spanned the breadth of significance, from inconsequential white lies (‘I don’t know who finished your Crofter’s jam, Logan.’) to really outrageous fabrications.

Within the past two months, he had heard quite the abundance of silly fibs. Even in the space of a fortnight, some truly ridiculous ones had stuck in his mind:

‘I don’t need dinner!’

‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’

‘It was a purely tactical approach.��

‘Three, two, one, blow! … You did it!’

It seemed almost every lie spoken by the self-proclaimed “Light Sides” nowadays was riddled with either petulance or condescension. (That is, Janus thought with a roll of his mismatched eyes, at least notably more than was usual for them.) The reason behind it was not lost on him. He may not have been the designated logical side, but it would take an absolute dunce to miss the cues on what exactly was happening in the others’ household; Logan and Patton had evidently taken on caregiving roles for Virgil and, unexpectedly - though perhaps it should not have been, given his childishness - Roman.

Janus had had his suspicions of such after walking in on the household spending time together a month previously. Given how fiercely protective Logan had been of the others and the way Patton had hidden the two younger sides behind himself, it would be hard to ignore the shift in their dynamic. Though the confirmation of it through listening in to the others’ unwitting lies had come as quite an unpleasant shock to Janus, nonetheless.

Every day he sensed silly fibs. The one earlier about baby giggles being a legal requirement under baby law had been… not endearing, per se (that yellow pulse again), but perhaps interesting. Though none of the nonsense he had been alerted to in the past few weeks came close to the idiocy of ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

How self-assured. How naïve. How reminiscent of Janus’ own foolish thoughts all those years ago.

He sighed, lowering his mug to the table and running his cold fingertips idly over the burning hot ceramic. It was not that Janus was jealous (he ignored the faint swell of yellow in the corner of his vision) but rather that he felt an uncomfortable bubble of remorse in his chest, growing and stretching and forcing its way against his ribs.

As he had done countless times before, he wondered what things would have been like had he behaved differently when the youngest side was still part of his household. Had he been more understanding of Virgil’s behaviours. More accepting.

Well, as Patton’s lie had brought up such aching memories, Janus decided a tad more bittersweet self-indulgence would be fitting for the night.

He rose from his seat, tucked the chair back under the table, and slinked through the house fluidly. He thanked his serpentine side for allowing him to practically float up the stairs and through the hallway without making a sound. If either of the other two residents heard him and decided to leave their rooms for a chat, Janus would not be held responsible for whatever unsavoury greeting he may bestow upon them.

A vile feeling clawed at his throat as he neared the perpetually closed door of Virgil’s old bedroom.

With a sharp, short sigh that might have been at least partly a hiss, Janus pushed the heavy door open. The neglected hinges creaked.

Beams of cold light from the hall flooded through the gap of the opening doorway, making visible a thin segment of the abandoned room.

It was unmarred by dirt, slime, blood, or any other disgusting substance, thankfully. Janus had to give credit to Remus. As non-existent as that side’s impulse control was, he had managed to spare this single room from his various antics and pranks at Janus’ sincere request.

The room was entirely unchanged from how it had been left years ago. Small, dotted stains on the walls showed where blu-tac used to hold up punk band posters. Splotches of black on the carpet by the old dresser showed where liquid eyeliner was spilt too many times. Black cotton bedsheets (which now appeared grey with their faint layer of dust) were pulled taut over the mattress where they had only ever used to be in constant, rumpled disarray at a certain someone’s stubborn refusal to make the bed.

Janus gripped the doorframe tightly, clenching his jaw against his growing feeling of unease.

Being a “Dark Side” came with an appreciation of all things, well, dark. True crime stories were common conversation material at dinner, movie nights featured more than anyone’s fair share of fake blood (not always on screen, mind you; Remus had to have some fun once in a while, after all), and family bonding time consisted of debates on the darkest secrets of society and an abundance of teasing of each others’ insecurities and fears - all in good fun, of course. (Though, when Virgil had finally left for good that fateful day with tears streaming down his cheeks, Janus had been forced to reconsider what “good fun” really meant to them.)

As it was, Janus was accustomed to seeing and hearing things meant to turn stomachs, race hearts, and scramble minds. He shrugged at the majority of them and scoffed at the rest. But gazing upon this empty room - the physical embodiment of his failure as a parental figure - was the closest he thought he could truly be to feeling horrified.

Janus’ insides twisted and pulled so much every time his eyes wandered over the sealed doorway, that he had seriously considered asking that Remus follow through on his threats to disembowel him and relieve him of his agony.

Bile had not yet risen in his throat, so Janus considered today to be a good one to bring himself to peek at the old bedside table - or rather what lay upon it.

Once cluttered with makeup products, tangled headphones, and herbal anxiety remedies, the surface now lay mostly bare. Save for a single soft toy slumped across it limply.

The blue stuffed rabbit was a ghastly thing. It was missing an eye, one of its limbs was stretched far longer than the others (probably as a result of its owner’s nervous tugging which was otherwise directed onto his hoodie sleeves), and one of its ears was half-chewed to tatters (another nervous habit of its owner, no doubt). Despite its ratty appearance, the thing was harmless. Such an unassuming object, so innocent.

And yet it brought tears to Janus’ eyes.

He had never even learned the name of the damned thing and wasn’t it utterly ridiculous that Janus, the unofficial leader of the “Dark Sides”, was blubbering over a made-up name for an inanimate object?

It had not mattered to him before. It had made no difference to him what Virgil had named it or how much he had cared about it. Janus had metaphorically and mercilessly turned the thing into a weapon that day. With his careless tongue, he had twisted its existence from an item of comfort and attachment into a source of ridicule and hurt. It was no wonder Virgil had left it behind. It had been tainted.

Janus winced at a sudden sting in his lower lip. He had bitten into it again. One would have thought having fangs would convince someone to be more careful of such a habit. 

Delicately dabbing at a drop of cool blood at the corner of his mouth, Janus sighed shakily. That was quite enough emotional torment for one evening.

He released the old bedroom door and let it fall shut. It had barely thudded against the doorframe when that grating, obnoxious sound trilled from the bane of Janus’ existence.

‘What’s up, Jannothy?’

‘Remus,’ Janus greeted with an exaggerated eye roll. It was only partly to rid his eyes of their wetness. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ Yellow tinted his left eye.

The distinctive scent of burnt paper met his nose. With a jolt of dread, Janus turned to see Remus half-caked in soot. He just about managed to contain a scream. It would have only invited one of Remus’ much-loved screeching competitions.

‘I see you’ve been in the library,’ Janus sighed. ‘Tell me, just how many of my books were charred beyond repair this time?’

Remus blew his cheeks out in a massive exhale, looking up to the ceiling in thought. As the warm breath wafted over his face, Janus was careful to breathe through his mouth.

‘Oh, only about half of them,’ Remus sang then cackled joyously for a short while. ‘But you’ll be glad to hear I sculpted the ashes into the shape of a nine-foot-long decapitated aardvark!’

Janus shut his eyes, shaking his head lightly. He hadn’t the energy to pander to Remus’ whims of fancy. ‘Good night, Remus.’

He silently slipped past the other side in the direction of his room.

‘But it’s only seven!’

‘I’m half cat.’ Yellow again.

‘Jan - wait,’ Remus called behind him, and the incongruous hesitance in his voice gave Janus pause.

He twisted his body back, surprised by the incredibly rare sincerity in the furrow of Remus’ brow.

‘All right. You have my undivided attention,’ Janus drawled, making a point to hold up his hand and inspect his nails thoroughly. He smirked at the yellow tint of his vision.

‘You seem bummed out,’ Remus whined, ‘and the role for resident bum is filled out by me already.’

Janus rolled his eyes again. At this rate, he would get vertigo.

‘So, are you, y’know… okay?’ Remus asked quietly. (Really, what an oxymoron that was.)

Something hard and hot clogged Janus’ throat and he swallowed thickly around it. He dropped his hand and swiftly looked up to meet Remus’ eyes.

‘Yes,’ Janus said in an entirely even tone, ‘I am perfectly fine. Now, if you will excuse me.’

He spun away and marched down the narrow hallway, keeping his gait steady. It was quite a feat, considering the fact he was half-blinded by a bright yellow glare.

oOo

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@tearful-babi

#little/big series #little/big series fics #little accidents big developments

[the-pigeon]

wishing well

summary: After the events of Selfishness vs Selflessness Redux, Roman finds himself back at a wishing well he and his brother made when they were younger. He has a few things to wish for

warnings: talk of blood, murder, death etc all from remus, roman and remus are sympathetic but whether everyone else is is up to interpretation i guess, crying, i have two betas and yet this has absolutely no beta

ao3

(this was just meant to be 500 words and now its 3804 how did this happen)

Before everything went wrong, Roman remembered he used to go to the wishing well.

 There were lots of wishing wells in the Imagination. There were lots of towns, lots of people. It made sense. But this wishing well sat far away from any fake people, surrounded by trees and vibrant wildflowers that were constantly in bloom and mushroom circles that Roman swore weren’t there before, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if his brother had come here just to set up some fae circles.

 The wishing well was smaller than he remembered. That or he’d grown taller. It was also much more damaged, in disrepair. Chipped stone, overgrown moss, the remnants of what looked like blood stained some of the grass near the base, confirming his suspicion that Remus had been here before him.

 He stood in front of it. The water at the bottom smelt just plain bad. With a flick of his hand, the well filled up, this time with much more fresh, clear water. For good measure, he fixed the crumbling stones it was made of. When he tried to clean the blood up, it didn’t leave. He decided to ignore it.

 Now with the clear water, he was forced to face his reflection. His hair was sticking up left, right and centre, and even though he wanted to say it was the wind’s fault, he had nothing to blame for it other than his nervous hands, no matter how much he wanted to blame the trek here. His eyes were slightly red. He hadn’t cried yet. That, he was proud of. He wouldn’t cry. He shouldn’t cry.

 Slowly, he dipped the tips of his fingers into the water. It rippled out softly, destroying the perfect image of his reflection. Hah, perfect. As if anything about him was perfect. No, no, he had messed everything up, and it was all his fault. If only he wasn’t so stupid, and impulsive, then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

 It was a low blow, making fun of his name, but he just couldn’t help it because he was stupid and mean, and nothing like what Morality said he was supposed to be.

 Sighing, he fished one of the coins out of his pocket. When he and Remus were kids and made this wishing well, they made certain coins that could be used, and only those coins. Roman only had three left. A part of him told him that the wishing well wasn’t real; it wouldn't actually make any of his wishes come true more than him simply summoning something in the Imagination would make it real, but there was something about the ritual of tossing the coin and watching it sink that was different. Whether it was different in a good way or a bad way was still up for debate in his mind. Did the difference between the two even matter?

 He held the coin above the water. What would he even wish for? Nothing material, that was for sure. He could just summon it. No, he had to wish for something more important. Something he couldn’t easily get.

 He hated that ‘a hug’ was the first thing coming to his mind.

 Maybe he could wish to be a better person. It was pretty open ended, but it was more or less the exact solution to his current problem. He was bad. And he wasn’t meant to be. He was meant to be the good one. So why was he so… bad? He was just bad.

 He let the coin drop into the water. It barely splashed. And then it started to sink.

 “I wish I was good,” Roman said. The words felt almost out of place as they echoed softly around him. A nearby bird squawked at him before taking flight towards his brother’s side of the Imagination. No doubt going to tell him all about Roman’s disgusting display of weakness.

 He should probably head back to his room before he has to face Remus again. But Patton was probably outside his room, trying to get in. Trying to ‘comfort’ him, as Patton would try for everyone, because Patton is amazing and wonderful like that. Or maybe he’d just leave Roman, going to instead comfort Janus. It wasn’t like either of them deserved Patton’s kind words, but at least Janus was more important. Everyone else was more important. Except maybe his brother.

 Wow, there he goes again, being just horrid and impudent. Maybe his brother was better than him. Maybe Janus had a point. Maybe Roman really was the evil twin.

 Something splashed in the water in front of him. He opened his eyes. Ah, his eyes. He was crying.

 He quickly scrubbed the tears away. He refused to cry. He had a standard to live up to. To be perfect. Perfect people don’t cry.

 Perfect people don’t have such horrible thoughts.

 He sighed, wiping away the last of the tears.

 Something croaked behind him. He turned to face a small frog perched on one of the nearby rocks. Of course. Just another way for the Imagination to punish him. He should’ve been nicer to Patton, to avoid everything that happened. He tried to be nice to Patton; it’s what he deserved. After all, Patton was the one that gave him—him—the job of being the good one. He had to live up to that.

 He looked back at the water, staring at his reflection and watching as it started to look less and less like himself.

 “What’d you wish for?”

 Roman startled, nearly jumping forwards into the water. He spun around to face none other than his brother, giving him a surprisingly blank look with his morning star resting by his legs.

 “Pardon?” he said, trying his best to regain his composure.

 “I said what did you wish for?” Remus repeated, gesturing to the well behind him. “I doubt you’re here just to look at old stone or whatever. So you must’ve wished for something. What’d you wish for?”

 “It’s not important,” he snapped, turning back to the water. Of course his brother had come here. It was probably that stupid bird. “Go away.”

 “No, I don’t think I will.” He came up behind him, giving a quick kick to the back of his knees and chuckling when he stumbled forwards a bit.

 “What do you want, Remus?” he said.

 “To bother you. It’s fun. Hey, do you think we could’ve bought a bomb into the wedding? Dee didn’t let me throw the cake, but we could’ve at least blown it up.”

 “That cake was delicious, how dare you.”

 Remus shrugged, dipping his whole hand in the well water and watching as it slowly turned a dark shade of gray around it. “Could’ve still eaten the explosion cake. If you’re not a coward.”

 “I’m not a coward,” he scoffed.

 “Then why’d you run away from Morality, of all people?”

 He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he fished out his second coin, fiddling with it in his hands. Remus stared at it for a few seconds before going back to swirling the water around, now with two hands.

 “Do you want my advice?” he said, flicking some water at Roman.

 “Not really, no.”

 “Too bad. If Patton ever starts to annoy you, just hit him over the head until his brain falls out and splats against the floor. And then for good measure you should remember to remove his heart, because most of his thought processes come from there instead.” He took a moment to laugh at that. “And then you get to stab his dead body all you want.”

 He shook his head. It was his brother’s job to think of… those thoughts. He had no obligation to do that. Patton doesn’t deserve to be thought of like that. Especially not by Roman.

 “I’ve always dreamed of doing that,” Remus continued. “Of just splitting his skull open. Oh, or standing on his spine. Or pulling his eyes out. Or-”

 “Please shut up,” Roman mumbled into his hands, covering his face.

 “Tell me why you’re here of all places and I will,” he shot back. Roman could swear that he sounded almost… angry. “You haven’t been here for years. Why now?”

 “It’s not important,” he said.

 “Oh? Well, anyway, Patton’s boring. What if I set Virgil’s hair on fire? He’d get all jittery. Maybe he’d set the house on fire in the process. And the fire would smoke Logan out, and I could stab him too, and Patton would be there too and I could stab him again. Heh. That’d be fun. I could stab you too. And then I could rip everyone’s hearts-”

 “Do you know his name?” Roman said. A part of him wanted to be comforted, even if by his brother, but mostly he just wanted to shut him up. Those were Patton-deemed Bad Thoughts, and he wasn’t bad. So therefore, he couldn’t think about those Thoughts… Right? Yeah, that made sense.

 “Deceit’s?” Remus asked.

 He nodded.

 “No. Believe it or not, he’s super secretive. Always told me he’d only share his name if he had no other choice, which I think is stupid.”

 Oh. No other choice? Was that really how he felt? Oh, God, what did Roman do this time? No wonder Janus was so mad at him.

 “I mean, it’s a name,” he continued, completely unaware of his brother’s breath speeding up. “It’s not like it’s gonna kill you or anything. Actually, if you yelled it loud enough it could explode your brains. Or some cake. Exploded wedding cake.”

 But Janus wasn’t trustworthy! That was the thing, wasn’t it? That was what he was always told. He was good, everyone else, all of the ones that were forced to hide in the dark, that lurked behind closed doors, they were bad. Janus was bad. He lied. And lying was bad.

 “I wonder if you yelled at the cake loud enough, would it explode? And then it could explode into Deceit’s ears. And if you put a bomb in the cake, then put the cake in his ears, it would explode his ears!”

 But by that logic, then Remus was good. He never lied. If lying was wrong, then that would mean honesty was good. And Remus was honest. So he would be the good one. And where would that leave Roman?

 “He’d definitely go deaf. And he’d probably die too. He doesn’t like it when I kill him, so I probably shouldn’t do it again. But it’s always so much fun licking his blood off the floor! Tasty. And covered in dirt. The best mix.”

 Roman was an actor. He was constantly on a stage, constantly performing, constantly lying. Lying and lying about everything. About how he’s feeling, about how much motivation he has to write, about how much he trusts himself. And if Remus was his metaphorical narrative foil, then wouldn’t he, by default, be bad if Remus was good?

 “Dirt and blood, dirt and blood, dirt and blood. Put it in a mixing bowl and put in some eggs. Beat it together and what do you get? Salmonella. Sally, sally, salmonella-”

 “Deceit told us his name,” Roman said. Truthfully. He had to be the good one, and honesty was good, so he had to be honest. No other choice. “And Thomas hates me. And Patton is trusting Deceit now. More than he trusts me, I think.”

 “Oh,” Remus said. “Sucks to be you.”

 Ugh, why did the truth hurt? Why was it blurring his vision? Why did the well water in front of him suddenly look like the best place to put his head for at least ten minutes?

 “Have you tried hitting them over the head?”

 “Can’t say I have,” he sighed.

 “You should.”

 Roman wanted to say something else, but the truth hurt, and he couldn’t say anymore.

 “Well!” Remus said, pulling his hands out of the well and shaking them off like an excited dog. “I’ll keep my end of the deal and leave you alone now.”

 He turned around, jumping on the wildflowers to kill them as he walked away. Away. Away, and leaving Roman alone again. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

 Be truthful, Roman, he told himself.

 “Please don’t leave me alone,” he whispered.

 God, what was he doing?

 Remus paused mid-air, turning around and staring at Roman. He quickly lowered his eyes. Looking at his brother was unbelievably difficult. 

 He made a noise reminiscent of a laugh. “Fine, okay then,” he said, dropping to his feet and sitting on the other side of the wishing well to stare at the outskirts of the trees around them.

 Roman sat down opposite, leaning on the well and closing his eyes. He decided not to speak. Remus made no such decision.

 He was talking. About something Roman didn’t want to listen to. And yet he listened. He told himself it was because he had nothing else to listen to, but he knew he would be lying again. In a sick, twisted way it was calming to listen to him ramble and rant. Which he hated to think about, but it was either that or admit that he really was that desperate for company. It was either that or actually pay full attention to what he was saying. It was something about rat poison and giving Virgil an ‘I’m sorry’ cake.

 It was disgusting. Remus was disgusting. That was decided years ago, before high school. Remus was disgusting, and Roman wasn’t. Morality decided that—Patton decided that. And today Patton was wrong. If Patton could be wrong about Janus, then what if he was wrong about…

 “Do you think Patton was wrong?” Roman said, cutting Remus off before he could finish his description of how he would make Virgil eat his apology cake.

 He scoffed. “About what?”

 “About saying you were bad and I was good?”

 For the first time in what felt like forever, Remus didn’t speak. A whole minute passed. He had left, hadn’t he? Of course he did. He left, and Roman was alone again, as he so deserved. Even Remus couldn’t stand him.

 Soon enough, he was crying. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be perfect. He tried to stop himself, but he was so tired and now he was alone so what did it matter? Only he could see his failures now, and he already hated himself. What did it matter? What mattered? He was alone.

 “I don’t know what Patton said to make you think that, but I can assure you he’s wrong.”

 Oh God, oh no, Goddammit. Now his brother, of all people, was seeing him cry. Of course he wouldn’t leave now. He was probably ecstatic to see Roman cry. 

 “I mean, you’re amazing!” Remus continued. Roman could feel his presence above him, could feel the shadow cast over him by his brother. It was strangely comforting. “And I’m disgusting. I’m purposefully disgusting, and yet people still put up with me. And it would seem to me that you being so perfect is just an accident, so I’d say you’re the good twin.”

 He wanted to speak, wanted to argue that Remus was wrong, wanted to convince him that he was terrible, that he didn’t deserve to be spoken of like this, but hearing Remus say that? He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

 “Hey, stop crying,” Remus demanded. “Stop crying so you can agree with me.”

 “But you’re wrong,” he choked out through a sob.

 “Then fight me.”

 That managed to get a small, not-happy but not-sad laugh out of him. “I’m not- I’m not going to fight y-you.”

 “Why not? I’m always down to hit you over the head. It’s the one thing I’m good at.”

 Another laugh, this time much sadder.

 “Tell me I’m wrong! Stop crying, stand up, and fight me! Or keep crying, I don’t know.”

 Well, if keep crying was an option.

 Roman pushed the tears out of his eyes, not bothering to stop crying, and forced himself to his feet. Through his blurry vision, he could see Remus standing ominously close, with a Look on his face that Roman couldn’t begin to explain.

 He still had that coin in his hand.

 “Fight me,” Remus said again, putting his hands on his hips.

 He dropped the second coin in the water, watching it sink to the bottom before turning back to face Remus. Waiting. Expectant.

 “I wish some- someone would give me a- a hug,” Roman said, feeling his shame cloying and tugging in his stomach, telling him to stop, telling him to take it back, telling him to run before Remus could do anything. But he was stupid, and God, did he want a hug.

 He wiped more of his tears away, forcing his eyes down. He couldn’t look him in the eyes. He just couldn’t.

 “That’s not fighting,” Remus said. Why did he sound so… whiny?

 “I’m sorry…”

 “Hey, apologising is Patton’s job, shut up.”

 And then Roman suddenly felt a whole lot warmer. A lot more solid. A lot more real.

 Remus was taller than him. He noticed that now, as he placed his head on top of Roman’s. It was a surprise he hadn’t noticed it sooner. It wasn’t that much of a difference, but it felt so much better than the few hugs he’d gotten from Patton.

 His hands were warm. When had Roman taken his overshirt off? Who knows. What he does know, is that the feeling of his brother’s hands against his back was the nicest thing he had ever felt in his entire life. It's grounded. It's warm. It’s… strangely soft. Strangely delicate. As if someone actually cares about Roman.

 He lets out another sob, shaking slightly as he returns the hug, desperately clinging to Remus’s shirt and crying into his shoulder. For a moment, he worried he would be mad for getting his shirt wet, but it only took a few seconds for him to realise that Remus probably wouldn’t care at all. So he lets himself cry. Lets the sobs rack through his body, lets the tears soak into Remus’s shirt, lets it out. It’s cathartic.

 A lot more solid. A lot more real. A lot more loved.

 “I’m gonna kill whoever hurt you,” Remus muttered.

 Roman laughed, burying his head in his green sash. “You shouldn’t.”

 “Telling me I shouldn’t do something just makes me want to do it more, you know that right?”

 "I know."

 They stood wordlessly for a little longer, the only sound between them being Roman's occasional sniffle, almost always accompanied by Remus saying something under his breath that Roman was sure he wouldn't want to hear. Despite that, it really was so much more comforting than absolute silence.

 "Remus, can I… ask you something?" he said, doing his best to keep up his voice steady.

 "Sure."

 "Do you think I should, uh, duck out?"

 "No," he said quickly, almost immediately. "No, absolutely not."

 Despite what his mind was screaming about, Roman pushed Remus away. God, was he always this cold? A part of him wanted to pull his brother back into the hug, but he knew he shouldn't. He just shouldn't.

 "Roman, look me in the eyes, you coward."

 Coward. It was strange that that didn't hurt. It should've hurt more. And yet it didn't. He wished he was smart enough to understand why that was, but like always, he was just stupid.

 "You're not stupid," Remus said.

 He spoke out loud, didn't he? He laughed again, sadly, before finally looking him in the eyes. He knew his face was red, knew his eyes would be puffy and wet, yet he didn't have the motivation to care.

 "I'm not?" he said. "I beg to differ."

 "Then beg, because you're definitely smarter than me."

 "What, like it's difficult?"

 Remus laughed—no, cackled, playfully pushing Roman's shoulder just a little bit too forcibly. He stumbled back a bit.

 Other than Remus’s soft laughing, they fell back into silence.

 Roman sighed. “It’s just… I’m not necessary, am I?”

 That made Remus stop laughing. “Why’d you say that?”

 “Because you exist! Just by you being here means that even if I duck out, Thomas would still have his creativity!”

 “You do realise that that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said?”

 Roman began to speak, but Remus cut him off. “As much as I’d love full creative control, you’re still incredibly important! I mean, I’m gross! It’s probably help if Thomas liked his creativity, lol.”

 “Did you just say ‘lol’ out loud?”

 “I did, yes.”

 “You disgust me.”

 “That’s kind of my job.”

 “At least you’re good at yours.”

 Remus nodded, as if he was thinking, which Roman doubted. Eventually, he shrugged. “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

 Would it be worth it to spend his last coin on another hug?

 “Either way,” Remus continued. “You shouldn’t duck out. Because people like you, and they’d be sad.”

 “Either way? What either way?”

 “Whether you’re good at your job or not. People still like you.”

 “I find that hard to believe,” Roman muttered under his breath.

 “I don’t.”

 It was worthless, wasn’t it? Remus was incredibly stubborn, not as much as Roman, but still very stubborn. He couldn’t change his mind.

 And change his mind to what? To thinking he was terrible? That he was bad? Here was someone saying he was wrong in thinking those things about himself, and he was trying to argue with them? Isn’t this what he wanted?

 “RoRo? You good?”

 But did he deserve it? Did he? Did he deserve anything?

 “Oh no, you’re crying again.”

 This was Remus, his brother, the person who should hate him the most, and he was saying he was wrong. He didn’t lie. He said what he meant and he meant what he said. Did Roman want to be admired by Remus?

 “Come here, you big baby.”

 If he was honest (and he tried to be, he did, but it was difficult), he didn’t want to be admired by Remus. Not when he had spent so long trying to separate himself from his brother, trying to show that they weren’t the same anymore, but he didn’t care about that right now, because right now he was being hugged again, and god, it felt so good.

 “You really need to work on talking about your feelings,” Remus said, running his hand through Roman’s hair. It wasn’t gentle, and it was barely comfortable, but it was definitely comforting.

 Roman said nothing in response.

 Remus lowered them to the ground. “We’ll talk about this later. When you’re not crying. But you can cry right now. I’ll stay right here.”

 True to his words, he did stay there.

 It was the nicest hug Roman had ever received.

#mimi writes #sanders sides #fanfiction #creativitwins #roman sanders #remus sanders #hurt/comfort #ts spoilers #Are we still tagging spoilers? #who knows #anyway this is my first fic im posting on tumblr lets goooo #im going to go eat some fish and chips now and when i come back this better have at least 5 notes #or else i'll riot