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#‘I shouldn’t tell you unless you read it someday’

thereallovebug · 8 months

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I’m continually amused by the GO fans who think fans who ship Michael & David are some kind of shameful secret they’re afraid the guys might hear about. Guess what: their PR people (and Georgia) troll the interwebs looking for any mention of them, so not only are they fully aware of the shippers and what they post, they also know about thirst tweets, smutty comments, stalkers, and rude remarks about their bodies.

Don’t like RP shipping? Fine. No one is asking you to read the posts or the fic or whatever.

But what gives anyone the right to wag their finger in the faces of other fans and tell them who they can ship, what they can think, and what they can post? “BuT wHAt aBoUt tHeiR wiVeS anD cHiLdRuN?” is the usual objection. Trust me, if the PR people know about the shipping, so do Michael and David (and by extension, their significant others). If you think it bothers the guys that fans ship them or are worried their kids might someday see it don’t you think they’d tone it down instead sailing that ship every chance they get? (BTW the guys also know about the thirst tweets, smutty comments, stalkers, & rude remarks about their bodies, but I don’t see fans worrying about the kids seeing those.)

So the next time you feel the urge to trash RP shippers, ask yourself: why do you care when the guys clearly don’t? Do you also trash the fans who post problematic or smutty content or do you reserve your ire just for RP shippers? And don’t come at me with “it’s doing harm” because unless you’re consistently going after the stalkers and fans posting shit the kids shouldn’t see, you’re a hypocrite and your objections have more than a whiff of homophobia about them.

#good omens #fan wankery #proshipping #real person shipping #smells like homophobia to me #fan hypocrisy

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mafaldaknows · 9 months

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you can’t blame us who joined the fandom late. we weren’t around at the beginning but you all who were told us and so surely that charmie really happened and it’s true up to now. you all had your access to armie’s friends and timmy’s will friend and jps and hint and wink at us. so we’re gonna follow bnf like you.

Hello, Anon:

I’m not sure where you got the idea that anyone is blaming you for anything.

Also, I’ve maintained that I don’t know anything for a fact regarding Charmie and do not presume that it’s true because they themselves have never confirmed it, nor do they owe us confirmation. It’s their story to tell, if they ever want to tell it. Love is love is love and comes in many forms, not just romantic love, and it’s not my place to tell anyone else’s truth. The main focus of this blog is to explore the strong connection between them, however they chose to define it, and to find signs that their close bond still exists.

I’m a seeker of truth and beauty. That’s all. I never claimed to be anything more than that, here in my little corner of the internet, as a fan, just like you, just like all the other fans in the Charmiesphere. I’m grateful that my mutuals allow me the grace and the space to stand with them on the deck of this beautiful ship despite sometimes marching to the beat of my own drum.

The premise of this blog is to look for signs of Charmie. But I never claimed to confirm it. That confirmation can only ever come from them to be valid. We are still merely spectators and speculators, like Mafalda, who always looks for signs.

Many of the signs over the years have pointed towards a specific direction, but reality points us now in another one entirely, and this time, it’s straight from the source.

In light of these recent events, we might be compelled to change course, and that’s ok. Or we might accept the circumstances and adapt. And that’s ok, too, Anon.

As far as reading the signs, generally speaking, I don’t view them as cold, hard facts but as possibilities, moments of kismet or serendipity. It’s what I mean when I say that the Universe winks. We would still need the two people involved to confirm their truth for the signs to have any real meaning. That’s how I see it, anyway.

I started this blog during the pandemic lockdown as a fun way to pass the time and then fell down the CMBYN rabbit hole, which led to an even deeper Charmie rabbit hole, which turned out to be a big, beautiful bottomless pit. It has never been my intention to mislead anyone in this space nor have I ever dictated to anyone what they should or shouldn’t believe about Charmie. These are just my own thoughts and observations about this beautiful ship, one that I recognize as a fantasy, but that also once had the very real possibility of coming true.

Once upon a time. Perhaps someday in the future. Or maybe never. Your guess is as good as mine at this point, Anon.

I write mainly about the possibilities of Charmie, not absolute facts, unless I have evidence to support those facts. When Armie was faced with false allegations, I shifted my focus to his defense. Time and evidence have proven that it was the right thing to do. Truth and Justice always win.

Love does too, when all is said and done.

That much I know is true.

Thanks for your comment. ❤️🧿

#hello anon #facts #possibilities #signs #seeker #truth and beauty #reality #truth #evidence #love always wins #everything’s gonna be alright #mafalda always looks for signs #we are all mafalda #tales from the charmiesphere #mafalda knows

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multifanlol · 1 year

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Yandere Total Drama Heather Headcannons

Tw: Stalking, mentions of suicide, usual Yandere stuff

Heather would be someone you’d never really suspect as one

I mean sure she’s Heather but you’d probably think she’d hate you as she’d never really show her “soft” side to you unless she kidnapped you or nobody was around

I see her as controlling but not like Courtney level like look at her with Lindsay but that was mainly her being fake i just wanna use her as an example like she’d wanna control your friends, what you wear going out, etc just “little” things like that

Definitely easy to get jealous due to her major insecurities especially if we’re going by the canon lore when she gets her head shaved even if your not dating

She would probably stalk like the social life type of one

She’d follow and stalk all your pages and write comments in different accounts, etc if she wanted you to go private and you wouldn’t listen to her she would probably write hurtful comments in different accounts to make you private your account

Sure she feels bad but, she has to get you to listen somehow you know?

She’d love if you were vulnerable with her no matter how annoyed she appears to be she’d love having a s/o that wouldn’t be afraid to tell her things so therefore she doesn’t have to worry about you seeing other people plus it’d be more easy to control you

If she ever did kidnap you it would be more of a last resort thing aka i don’t rlly see her kidnapping you unless necessary

If she held you hostage she’d give you the minimum respect that most Yanderes don’t seem to do like give you an actual bed and give you food that you like, etc (no srsly why do Yanderes in some stories keep you in a basement when it’s just you both in the house)

She’d only keep her basement cleaned as more of a “punishment” room

Speaking of punishments she’d only ever punish you if you ever attempted to escape while she’s in a bad mood

I mean she wouldn’t be a totally delusional yandere so she’d be aware that being held hostage isn’t good and hard to get “used” to but she doesn’t have any other options and besides it’s not like you have it that “bad”

Her punishments would never be THAT severe like maybe locking you in the basement for a couple hours depends on if you behave well she’d leave you food but she just needs to make sure you’ll never do something that ruthless again

If you were the type of person that would attempt to escape over and over again she’d have no choice and probably damage your body in some way breaking your legs is probably the best option would probably gaslight you while tying you up

One of her strongest traits is how manipulative she is so her gaslighting you or gaining your parents trust shouldn’t be that hard

If you ever successfully escaped, or died she would feel a mix of emotions

If you escaped she would feel sad but also angry at you and herself

Angry for you for escaping but angry to herself for letting you escape under her watch

She’d probably stop looking for you after a while but a part of her would still keep a close watch incase she catches you someday

It’s like a mice hiding in the kitchen from a cat the cat just has to wait a bit till the mouse lets loose

If you died whether it be a suicide or not she’d never get over it

Even if it wasn’t her fault she’d still be angry at herself she’d probably bury your body outside her house as it’d be too late to turn you in without being questioned

If she ever “broke” you (you finally gave in to her but your personality faded) she’d be pleased that your easy to deal with but sad that this isn’t the “one she fell in “love with””

She’d probably give you more privileges and try to show interest in any of your hobbies if you had any to try making you happy

She’d get frustrated at you over it but she’d know it’s her fault your like this now

Overall Heather wouldn’t be the worst out there surprisingly although would be intensely manipulative

I hope anyone who read this liked it! I’m just in my total drama phase tbh-

Have a good day/night!

#character x reader #total drama #yandere total drama #Yandere total drama x reader #total drama x reader #Total drama Heather x reader #yandere x reader #Total drama Yandere heather x reader

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holocene-sims · 2 years

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Things said meme number 31 for Grant and Grant's late sister situation 😭😭😭

ooh okay this is a good one 👀 a really good one! sorry it took me so long to post, though!! it's been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute lol

anyway welcome to the angst express train 🌧️

btw this is a pretty fucked up example of grant's childhood so...

tw for death mention & tw for abuse. anyone reading this, scroll right past this post please if this could be triggering for you! the part with the abuse is placed under the cut for safety as well, so you won't see anything unless you click on it!!

31. things you said at my grave

she’d given him a letter last month.

she handed it to him in the middle of the night without much fanfare. she knocked on his bedroom door, slipped the letter through the crack, and walked away with nary a word spoken.

grant picked it up, though, soon after she vanished and found that she’d sealed the envelope with a bright pink hello kitty birthday sticker. he flips it over and reads the perfect cursive inscription on the back.

“happy birthday to my favorite person <3 XOXO, elizabeth”

it wasn’t his birthday, so he put it away in the nightstand, confused, and saved it for later.

she did the same thing the next night, although that time she’d explicitly asked to come into his room, and she came bearing a beautiful wooden lockbox–almost an exact replica of their grandmother’s decades-old handmade jewelry box–and a key to go with it. she placed it neatly on top of his cluttered shelf of hockey trophies, then sat beside him on his bed where he lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

“what are you doing?”

“stuff,” elizabeth replies, her voice shakier and more fragile than ever, “don’t tell kelly.”

“don’t tell kelly what?”

“that i didn’t do this for her.”

“didn’t do what for her?”

elizabeth leans over and cups his face in her cold, skeletal hands. when he looks up, he sees a waterfall of tears pouring down her cheeks, and suddenly, he knows what all of this is about.

“the letter i gave you yesterday...whether i'm here or not, open it on your birthday.” elizabeth lingers for a moment, still cradling his face, then she abruptly sits upright and points to the box. “and all of those...you can look through them whenever you want. look, not open. but it’s just letters. you’ll figure it out. you’ll know when it’s time for each of them.”

grant rises from bed, too, and clamors out from underneath his pile of blankets to rest beside her on the edge.

“lizzie, no–” he pleads, grabbing for her wrist, “don’t die.”

“i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone for the rest of your life. you wouldn’t believe me if i say i think heaven is real and that you shouldn’t worry because i'll be with you forever, just farther away. so i had to do something, okay? keep these as a reminder of me, that i'm always here. grant, i'm–um, i'm so sorry i can’t see you grow up. i'm so sorry i can’t protect you anymore. it’s the only regret i have about this life. but i know you and i know that you’ll be fine, that you’ll live a good life, and that you’ll be happy someday when you get out of here. i can let go because i know you’ll be okay, but i can’t let you feel like you’re alone. okay? i will miss you more than anything and i know it’ll be the same for you, but keep these and, um...someday way off in the future, we’ll see each other again and we’ll have a lot to catch up on.”

and now he kneels here, sobbing, at her fresh grave site in torrential rain under the pitch black blanket of night, clutching the first letter in the safety of the inner pocket of his rain jacket. the grave is no more than a roughshod pile of unearthed dirt surrounded by mountains of flowers and signs with elizabeth’s name and pictures of her before she’d been struck by the hand of fate and the daunting c-word. the photographs are far from old, being handpicked from last year’s high school graduation photoshoot.

grant hesitates to pull out the letter but does so anyway, knowing his time here is as limited as her time on earth was. he’d forgotten to fiddle with the house security alarm before he leapt out his second-story bedroom window and hauled himself down to the ground via the nearest tall tree. the last sound he’d heard as he sprinted out the backyard and over the wrought-iron fence was the shrill whine of the alarm alerting everyone to an “intrusion.”

surely the three mile dash from his home to the catholic church’s cemetery would give his parents plenty of opportunity to discover he'd gone missing and for them to subsequently bother to care about where their least favorite child ran off to.

just as he begins anxiously working away at peeling off the sticker without damaging it, the distinct echo of footsteps in entrenched mud behind him sends his heart rate flying sky-high. he considers making a run for it again to either his uncle’s or his grandparents’ house down the hill–there’s no doubt he can outrun his 50 year old parents and unathletic older sister–but decides against it.

he’d come here on the earliest hour of his twelfth birthday to read the letter with the company of his sister, even though she's six feet underneath him. no way he’s backing out now.

“you are nothing but trouble! get up! get up right now!”

lightning strikes a tree on the opposite side of the cemetery. the ensuing bomb of thunder kills his ears and nearly drowns out his mother’s incessant screaming.

grant stays where he is, praying lightning strikes him before his mother does. finally, though, the sticker releases and he frees the letter from the envelope in record speed.

“grant, come on, just get up…” his sister kelly begs. “it’s late and it’s storming and we have to pick out the headstone tomorrow. we all miss her. now let’s go.”

his mother tries again to rattle him. “there is no need for you to go around making this all about you! i should not have to chase you down in the middle of the night when i have just buried my daughter!”

he ignores them all and reads the letter patiently.

he’s halfway through when kelly’s whining breaks his concentration.

“let’s do this the easy way, grant.”

if his father is there, he’s doing what he always does, and that’s nothing.

“alright, that’s enough!” his mother screams at the top of her lungs. “get up or help me god you’ll be in the ground next to her!”

grant immediately halts what he’s doing and glances over his shoulder, eyeing his family with suspicion. his father and sister are clad in pajamas but his mother–who is marching his way like darth vader on steroids–had apparently wasted energy and time to dress herself up in proper clothing before driving out this way.

of course she had. she can’t be seen abusing her children in anything less than the 400 dollar dress she’d worn to the funeral yesterday, can she?

seeing her coming after him, he panics and starts gearing up to run away, only to fumble with the letter and let it slip from his hands to scurry away in the harsh wind. he desperately reaches for it, only to be stopped dead by his mother’s talons gripping onto his hair and yanking him backwards. he crumbles under the unexpected weight of her strength and his head slams full-force into the solid ground. she slips up for just a moment, letting him go, but nothing stops her. she reaches down and grabs him by the shoulders and continues dragging him by hand through the mud.

“mary, let him go.” at last, his father pipes up. “that’s a bit much.”

“shut up and stay out of my way! i’ll let the child go when he obeys me for the first time in his life. he’ll learn someday!”

grant’s eyes flutter open to the world spinning like a tilt-a-whirl around him. he lifts his head and looks out ahead of him, but the poor grave just before him is a blurry mess of colors, all washed out by the horrible ache splitting his brain in half.

“i just wanted to be with her…” grant whimpers.

“well, me too, grant! but you don’t see me or your father or your sister acting a fool, do you?”

the grave slowly slips farther and farther away as he’s pulled–kicking and fighting and smashing his head into the ground every other second–towards the parking lot. but he grows tired of lashing out against his mother and his fear and hatred of her is replaced by primal, unbridled grief.

“why did you leave me?!” ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch. “take me with you, take me with you, take me with you! don’t leave me! please, please, please…take me with you! or come back! please don’t leave me! elizabeth, please…”

he braces for the impact of his body on concrete just as a bright burst of yellow from a flashlight shines in his and his mother’s faces. she gasps and stumbles away, releasing her iron-grip on his body. grant stumbles forward and up onto his knees, almost careening over, but he’s caught by another set of arms.

he doesn’t even need to look up to know his grandparents overheard the commotion and rushed over to discover the source.

somewhere off in the background, his mother is engaging his uncle and his grandfather in a screaming match, but grant loses track of the words soon enough and melts into his grandmother’s warm embrace, still sobbing.

“please don’t leave me, elizabeth.” he begs once more into the void. “don’t leave me. i don't want to be alone.”

#asks #the household dynamics are so fucked up #dad and kelly are hardcore enablers and elizabeth was the golden child and grant is 100% the black sheep #he and elizabeth had a super strong relationship though #even outside of the fact she could protect him and chose to do so since she had the safety of being the favorite kid #anyway if you wonder why grant is the way that he is...this would be why #congrats to mother mary for making her first appearance on this blog...yikes #but also was it stupid that grant snuck out? yes definitely #he 100% did it because he was scared of the backlash of asking to go there during the day for his own purposes #but still...not a great idea #hlcn: oc info #hlcn: story extras #holocene.docx #hlcn: grant #hlcn: mary #hlcn: juhani #hlcn: kelly #hlcn: elizabeth

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carmen-sandie-go · 3 years

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What are some very important life advices that you know ?

'aight this is gonna be a long one -

As opposed to what motivational gurus might tell you, a lot of people are in fact happy working 9-to-5 jobs. Everyone doesn't want the same things from life. Many people prioritise having a good work-life balance over hustling, and you shouldn't feel like you have to achieve spectacular things to make your life matter.

I don't think "school doesn't matter" is the full story. School might not matter for you if you choose a career path where what you learnt in school or the grades you got don't play any role. But it will matter if the path you need to take to pursue your goals requires you to have good grades. Also, what you learn in school might lead you down some interesting paths. For example, being good with chemistry could allow to be better at running a makeup production business someday.

Keep Your Life Private. Now i don't mean don't have social media and just don't let people know anything. But keep your decisions, your thoughts, your next step. Stay under the radar because once you are on the radar, it can be very difficult to get off it. Keep it private until its permanent. We don't want bad juju. For example- if you are applying to universities and everyone is explaining which ones they have applied to and discussing and judging and commenting. Once you got into the Uni of your choice go ahead post that shit if you want to !

Don't gossip about your relationship with your girlfriends like you can talk about something with your best friend but don't tell everyone about your relationship, your fights, etc. Keep your relationship private but don't hide the fact that you are in one.

If they verbally abuse you, they will physically abuse you. if they physically abuse you, they will k-word you. it's not a matter of if, but when. Read that and read it again. it's true. they're not gonna change. you can't fix them or help them heal. don't believe a single promise they make because more often than not they will break it.

Don't send him nudes. I would give the same advice to anyone, no matter how long/ serious the relationship is and especially if they don't feel comfortable doing it. There is no way for you to predict how your relationship will develop. I'm not saying we should always think the worst about someone, but what if you break up and he will want to take revenge by posting the pictures on social media? Or even if you don't break up, but someone else (his mother, his best friend etc) finds those pictures? Or if his phone/ email is hacked? There is always a risk when photographing yourself unclothed and even bigger one when sending those pictures to someone else. He cannot ensure 100% safety. So unless you don't mind the idea of your body becoming public knowledge, don't do it.

Stay unplugged and disconnected from the society for at least 1 week every 6 months. How? Probably go camping without any technology or gadgets with you. Eat, sleep, make out, make love, read stories, read books (not kindle, actual books!), tell stories, make up stories, talk about the universe, talk about time-travel, talk about aliens, talk about sex, talk about interstellar, talk about anything, cuddle up, make out again, sleep, wake up again, watch the stars, make a wish on a falling star, do something impulsive, explore each other, or just explore your inner-self (if you're alone).

All those people you see around enjoying all their success, have worked really hard at some point in their life. Don't agree?! Just stop reading and think for a moment. Remember all the opportunities that you missed and all the bad performances of yours, how many of them you could have been better at, had you worked a little harder, a little more dedication and focus from your side was all it demanded.

Stop giving a damn about what people think of you. Seriously, just be who you are. Random strangers really don't give a crap about what you do, what you look like or what you say. You are not being watched every time you step outside.

#tw #asks #anon

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fangirlwriting-stories · 3 years

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What You Don’t Know Can’t Hurt You

Summary: Janus doesn't have a problem with Remus or Virgil keeping secrets, unless they're hurt in some way. You can call him a hypocrite all you want, sure. But he's not going to let someone else hurt them, not when he can stand in the way just as easily. It's not fun of course, but it's better than the alternative, and Janus has long ago learned to handle it without any problems.

The actual problem comes when Virgil finds out.

There was nothing wrong with secrets. Janus had made sure Remus and Virgil understood growing up that they had a right to their own privacy, and unless they were hurt or thinking about hurting someone else, Janus didn’t need to know. As sort of an amusing result, Remus decided that meant he could tell Janus anything he wanted. Janus wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but it took him a little bit of time to get used to Remus blurting out every thought he had whenever he felt like it. Virgil, on the other hand, was a little more reserved, which was also fine. Janus meant it when he said he didn’t need to know everything about them. Only if they were hurt, or thinking about hurting someone else. There was, admittedly, a reason for that last rule that went a little beyond common sense, which was that Janus was really bad at sticking to that rule himself.

There were plenty of sides on this side of the mindscape that wanted to hurt the three of them. Virgil being allowed to speak to Thomas made him an obvious target. Janus being the one that allowed him to speak to Thomas made him a bigger target. Remus was mostly a target by association, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be used against the both of them. Or that Remus and Virgil could be used against Janus, really, because the actual problem was either of them being hurt would cause significant damage to Thomas.

Obviously that was why it mattered. Virgil was Thomas’ fight or flight reflex, and he was already on edge most of the time, if he had to worry about getting hurt on top of that he would be a total mess, and make Thomas jump at the slightest noise. If Remus had to deal with being hunted and hurt all of the time, he would only worsen Thomas’ intrusive thoughts, and how would that fare for Thomas accepting all parts of his creativity someday? No, clearly it was much too dangerous for Thomas if Virgil and Remus had to deal with the others. Janus would just have to do it instead.

This being a business transaction, he didn’t fight back, of course. Or, well, no. He supposed that wasn’t entirely accurate. He did fight back when it came to sides like Pride, who wanted to feel like he’d accomplished something. But when it came to sides like Cruelty or Malice, who just wanted to relish in causing pain, it served him better to just let them do whatever they wanted. That was what they got out of the deal. What Janus got out of the deal was that they left Virgil and Remus alone, and also never marked up any part of his face that would reveal to Virgil and Remus that he was hurt. The irony of that being the one thing he demanded to know from them was not lost on him.

He supposed he shouldn’t have expected to be able to keep that secret forever. Despite being Thomas’ Deceit, he couldn’t hide everything perfectly all the time, and Virgil and Remus had gotten very good at reading him over the years, especially when he wasn’t well enough to keep up an act. And right now, he wasn’t exactly feeling 100%.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to patching himself up, but sometimes he had injuries that took longer than others, and he tended to want some time to relax and settle into himself again once he was done. Usually with long bubble baths and glasses of wine. So when he got a very frantic set of knocks when he was in the middle of cleaning a wound on his abdomen, he was understandably a little shaken, and when the side actually started calling out to him, it didn’t really improve much.

“Janus?” Virgil called desperately. “Janus, Remus made a bear trap and I really don’t think he’s going to use it properly! Janus, are you there?”

“Shit,” Janus muttered to himself. He grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped it as tightly as he could around his wound, taped it down, and threw his shirt over it, grabbing his cape on his way out of the bathroom.

“I’m coming!” he called loudly to Virgil, who stopped knocking. He pulled his cape on and opened the door, then gestured behind Virgil to let him know to lead him to Remus, which Virgil did.

Remus did indeed have a bear trap, and he was poking at it, which definitely was not going to end well. Janus moved quickly over and snatched Remus’ hand up and away from it. Remus made a disappointed noise, and Janus grabbed the chain and yanked at it until it went off.

“In what universe would you think that was a good idea?” he asked, glaring at Remus.

“In this one!” Remus called happily, throwing his hands up. “Come on Janny, I’ll learn how to use it first!”

“Fine,” Janus said, summoning another bear trap made out of dulled wood. “Prove it and I’ll give it back.”

“Deal!” Remus called happily, snatching it up as Janus let out a breath of relief and moved to take the actual metal trap back to his room.

Virgil followed him back there and shut the door after them both. “Thanks,” he said, as Janus set the trap on his desk. “I didn’t want to have to fight him for that thing considering it could seriously hurt both of us.”

“I think that was a good instinct,” Janus said, turning to face Virgil again. “Do you know why in the world Remus wanted a bear trap in the first place?”

“Well, he said he wanted to go imaginary monster hunting, and—” Virgil stopped talking, and his eyes widened in alarm.

“Virgil?” Janus asked. Had he realized something else that Remus had done that needed to be taken care of?

“Janus you— your stomach,” Virgil said, and Janus’ blood ran cold. He looked down and saw a large wet circle forming through his shirt. He must not have wrapped his wound as well as he’d meant to.

“Oh my god,” Virgil said. “Oh my god, you— come on, come here.” He moved forward and grabbed Janus by the arm, then pulled them both towards the bathroom.

“Virgil, I’m fine,” Janus said, though he wasn’t sure how he was actually going to convince Virgil of that at this point.

Virgil pulled Janus’ shirt up and got much paler as soon as he saw the wound. “You’re not fine,” he said. “How did you not say that something was wrong? What happened, you— oh my god, let me—” he reached for the first aid kit still sitting out on the counter. He tore the bandages off and finished cleaning Janus’ wound, rewrapping it tightly. Even after he finished, his hands still fluttered over the area as if there was something else he could do.

“Virgil, I’m fine,” Janus said gently, catching his hands. “Thank you for the help.”

“You’re not fine, you look like you were fucking stabbed,” Virgil said, looking desperately up at him. Janus flinched inwardly and started working to come up with a cover story, because Virgil was bound to ask in a second.

“What the hell happened? How did you not notice, weren’t you in pain? That didn’t look like a light wound, you…” Virgil’s gaze shifted over to the first aid kit, and Janus tensed. Dammit.

“You were already treating it,” Virgil said, looking back at him. “Were you going to tell us?”

“Of course I was,” Janus lied. “I just thought it needed a little more immediate care first.”

“You— you stopped in the middle of treating it to help me with Remus, though,” Virgil said. “And what was with trying to convince me you were fine? You— Janus, what happened?”

“I took a particularly nasty fall in the imagination,” Janus said.�� “I was looking for Remus. I tore my stomach open on a spike.”

“I found Remus in the imagination making his bear trap,” Virgil said suspiciously. “You weren’t there. And this isn’t a slash, it’s a piercing wound.”

Deep breath, Janus. “I—”

“Janus,” Virgil looked him in the eyes. “Who stabbed you?”

“I’m fine,” Janus said, running out of deflections.

Virgil didn’t respond but to narrow his eyes, and Janus shut his eyes with a sigh.

“Cruelty,” he said, opening his eyes again.

Virgil stood up instantly. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he snapped, starting for the door.

“No,” Janus snapped, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back towards him. “You will do no such thing.”

“What— Janus, he hurt you,” Virgil said, looking at him like he was crazy.

“Yes,” Janus said, because apparently this was happening now. He had tried so hard to keep it from them.

Virgil looked at him for a second longer. “Why don’t you sound upset?” he asked quietly.

Janus sighed. “Virgil—”

“Why. Don’t you sound. Upset. Janus?”

Janus looked Virgil in the eyes and tried to come up with some way to explain. But before he actually got there, Virgil seemed to figure some part of it out.

“Did you let him?”

“Yes,” Janus said simply, because lying seemed rather pointless at this point.

“Why the hell would you— Janus, what if you’d died?”

“Sides can’t die,” Janus said, before he really thought it through.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Sides can’t— how do you know that?”

Janus looked firmly at the wall and kept his gaze there. “When sides die they just reform a couple of days later,” he said, very determinedly not looking at Virgil’s face.

“What— you— what?”

Janus imagined Virgil was now putting together why he took so many multiple day vacations throughout the year.

“Janus,” Virgil said, and Janus finally managed to look back over at him. “Why would you put yourself through any of that?”

Janus pulled his cape tighter around his shoulders. “They threaten to hurt you and Remus,” he said simply.

Virgil stared at him.

Janus didn’t say anything else. Virgil must have understood now, at least.

“And you don’t think,” Virgil said, a mix of quiet and angry, “that Remus and I can take care of ourselves?”

“I know you can,” Janus replied. “But it would be very dangerous for Thomas if the both of you had to worry about getting hurt all of the time.”

“Dangerous for Thomas? Oh, and I suppose it’s not dangerous for Thomas if his inner sense of self-care thinks it’s perfectly okay to be used as a walking punching bag?”

Janus blinked in surprise. “That’s different.”

“The fuck it is! You don’t think all three of us would be safer if we got to take them on together instead of Remus and I’s safety hinging on whether or not they like torturing you well enough?”

“I don’t want you to be hurt!” Janus snapped, and fought to not visibly recoil from his own statement. That… that wasn’t why he did this. He did this because it was dangerous for Thomas if the two of them got hurt, right?

“It’s… it’s better this way,” he tried to amend, which it looked like Virgil didn’t buy in the slightest. “You can both focus on your roles, on things other than making it through the day.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Now I can focus on you having to focus on making it through the day. Wow, that’s just so much better.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” Janus said quietly.

Virgil was silent for a moment. Then he turned back towards the door. “Okay. I’m going to go get Remus and we’re going to figure out what the hell we’re doing about this.”

Janus grabbed his arm again and yanked him closer. “No,” he hissed. “You are telling Remus nothing.”

“Oh, I’m not? Just try and fucking stop me.”

Janus narrowed his eyes, tightened his grip, and repeated, “You are telling no one any of this,” with an extra push that came from his ability to shut a side’s mouth.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Janus!”

“No. If I can’t keep it from you anymore, fine, but you’re not going to tell Remus too.” He’d already failed enough for one day.

“Bastard,” Virgil snapped. “Let me go!”

“No,” Janus said. He let go of Virgil’s arm, but that wasn’t what he meant.

“Janus,” Virgil said. He grabbed Janus’ arm, unfortunately right over a cut, and both the pain and the sudden movement made Janus wince.

Virgil stopped and pulled back. He looked at Janus for a long moment.

“Janus,” Virgil said softly. “Don’t you know that we love you?”

Janus stared at him, surprised at the sudden admission. “Of course I know that,” he said. “Why do you think I kept it from you?”

Virgil shook his head, back to glaring at him. “You asshole. Let me tell Remus.”

“No.”

“Janus!”

“No, Virgil. I told you you’re not telling anyone, I meant it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish treating these injuries, like I was doing before you interrupted.”

Janus turned and moved to sit on the toilet. He pulled his cape off and set it on the counter, then pulled his shirt sleeve up over his wound and picked up the rag he’d been using to clean. He’d probably have to throw this shirt away in order to prevent Remus from seeing the blood or any of the others from seeing weakness of any kind. If he couldn’t clean it enough in the bathroom—

“Give me that,” Virgil snapped, snatching the rag and taking Janus’ arm in his hand.

Janus blinked up at him in surprise and opened his mouth to protest, but Virgil cut him off.

“If you’re not going to let me tell anyone you’re going to let me help,” he snapped. “Now hold still.”

Well, Janus didn’t see much of a point in arguing with that, so he did. Virgil didn’t have his experience with bandaging wounds, but he was able to get them tighter than Janus was usually able to on his own, and by the end of it all Janus would begrudgingly admit he did an alright job.

It was much later in the evening by that point, so Janus just pulled out some pajamas and shooed Virgil away, who didn’t look very happy to go. He ended up just getting rid of the bloody shirt and making a new one, and then headed back into the bathroom to do his other normal nighttime activities such as brushing his teeth and taking care of his scales.

Today hadn’t gone well. Cruelty hadn’t even given him a bad stab wound this time, he dreaded to think of Virgil’s reaction to a more serious injury. Well, he supposed he could simply continue hiding those from Virgil. It’s not like he planned to start suddenly going to him for help, and hiding worse wounds had never been a difficult thing in the past. He didn’t see why much had to change from this point, and after a while he could forget his massive failure if he simply neglected to ever bring it up.

It would all continue to be fine.

…

Virgil was having nightmares. Janus woke up multiple times a week to find the anxious side perched at the edge of his bed. On worse nights, he sometimes woke to Virgil shaking him to make sure he was still alive. The subject of the nightmares was obvious once he learned that fact, and Virgil never seemed to calm down, no matter how many times Janus told him his body wouldn’t still be there if he was dead. It just made Janus all the more guilty about failing to properly keep this from Virgil. This constant worry was exactly what he was trying to prevent.

Janus wondered sometimes if it was worse than it would have been, if Virgil had to worry about himself instead of Janus. He was a protector by nature, after all. He worried most about things happening to Thomas, Remus, people other than himself. Janus was part of that group, and Virgil seemed to have grown deeply worried about him very quickly, if the nightmares and anxious looks were anything to go by.

That didn’t change his decision, of course. He wasn’t going to let Virgil reveal that he knew. The others might come after him then, and he wasn’t going to do anything that might make Virgil more on edge than he now already was. Though how many times Virgil was suddenly showing up in his room after dinner just to make sure he wasn’t hurt that day was certainly not helpful. Most of the time Janus just lied.

And most of the time Virgil saw right through that lie.

Remus was starting to notice that something was up. Virgil might have been Anxiety, but that didn’t mean he constantly checked on Janus’ safety all the time without a reason. And Janus’ silencing power didn’t extend to actions that didn’t directly reveal the secret being kept. He couldn’t force Virgil to stop. Janus told Remus that Virgil had a particularly bad nightmare that seemed to be affecting him for a while. He wasn’t sure how well Remus bought it. He needed to find another solution.

“How about you let me tell him?” Virgil asked when Janus mentioned it, one night when he’d insisted on helping Janus with the aftermath of a fight with Pride.

“How about you come up with a solution I might actually use?” Janus deadpanned back.

“Remus would want to know.”

“Remus is perfectly happy not knowing. So were you, by the way.”

“I was happy because I didn’t know, you asshole.”

“Yes, that’s the whole point,” Janus agreed. “Why are you so against the idea of making sure Remus isn’t upset?”

“Because it’s based on a lie, Janus.”

“You would think you would have expected that from me,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who always tells us we can keep any secrets we want as long as we’re not hurt,” Virgil snapped.

“Yes. There was a reason for that, you know,” Janus said, pulling a bandage off an older wound and giving it a look for a minute. That one was probably okay to take off at this point.

“Hypocrite.”

“Yes, I know, Virgil, thank you.”

“You don’t think I would be less worried about you if I had someone to share that worry with? Or if I could try and actually protect you instead of just helping you pick up the pieces afterwards?”

“I’m not letting you tell Remus. If you think I’m letting any of the others get wind that you know you’re insane. Do you know what they’d do to you then?”

Virgil lifted Janus’ arm slightly so the most recent bandage was in both of their lines of sight. “Yes.”

“All the more reason you should let me protect you both the best I can,” Janus said calmly, pulling his arm from Virgil’s grasp.

“Remus would want to know that you’re hurting,” Virgil said.

Janus sighed. “What would the point even be? He couldn’t do anything about it. It’s not like we can go anywhere. It would be causing needless distress.”

“We could ask the core sides,” Virgil said. “We could see if they could let us stay over with them.”

Janus snorted. “Oh, yes. They’d definitely be willing to let three of us, none of whom they’d like, stay over there indefinitely. What a brilliant plan. You’re right, let’s do it.”

Janus, for some reason, couldn’t tell what Virgil was thinking in response to that. “I am telling you what Remus would want,” he said. “Do you not believe me?”

“Of course I believe you,” Janus said. “But I’d be a lousy Deceit if I didn’t continue to let sides live in ignorance and denial, now wouldn’t I?”

“You’re an asshole,” Virgil spat.

“You’ve made it clear that that is your perspective,” Janus said. “I think I’d like to take a long bubble bath after cleaning these, would you mind terribly heading out?”

“Dick,” Virgil spat, even as he did just that.

Janus let out a sigh of relief once the bathroom door closed. How many times was he going to have to go through this conversation exactly?

…

Janus couldn’t really say he understood when Virgil started spending more time with the core sides. He’d gone on rants about them, and how stupid their beliefs were, and how their manner of helping Thomas was stupid. He’d said many times that if he wasn’t needed to help protect Thomas, he wouldn’t go over there at all. But now he was starting to spend more time with them all, and seemed to be lightening his stance on them too.

A not insignificant part of Janus wondered if it was because he needed a break from the stress of worrying about him all the time. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case, and as a result tried to increase his efforts of hiding when he was hurt. He did an alright job. Virgil didn’t show up to help quite as often, though he imagined a part of that was spending more time with the core sides.

The real problem was how much it was seeming to hurt Remus.

“Do you think he’s gonna leave?” he asked Janus desperately one night, when Virgil missed their movie night yet again.

Janus looked at Remus next to him on the couch and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “No, Remus,” he said, though he wasn’t really sure himself. “It’ll be fine.”

Remus just made a nervous whine and buried his head in Janus’ side. “Is he gonna leave me too?” he whispered.

Janus held him tighter. “Virgil is not like Roman,” he said firmly. “He wouldn’t leave you, Remus. It will be okay.”

He really hoped he was actually right about that. He couldn’t explain Virgil’s sudden change in behavior, other than finding a way to distract himself from the worry. He didn’t stop being angry, or trying to convince Janus to let him tell Remus what was going on, but he didn’t seem angry at Remus, at least.

He was looking for a time to bring the whole thing up to Virgil, but things were still rather tense between them right now, and he didn’t want to accidentally anger him and make the whole situation worse. Then again, Janus seemed to do that without even trying these days, so maybe throwing in the towel and pissing him off was the only option he had left.

In the end, it didn’t end up mattering though, because Virgil brought it up first.

“Hey, do you have any idea why Remus is being super clingy all of a sudden?” Virgil asked. Janus sat up from his spot reading at his desk and looked over to find Virgil leaning against the doorway and looking back over his shoulder like he expected Remus to be there.

Janus set his book down and gave Virgil a look, which he didn’t notice until he turned back around.

“What?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t noticed? Are you and the core sides getting along that swimmingly nowadays?”

“The core sides? Since when do the core sides and I get along?” Virgil asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“You tell me. You’re the one who’s suddenly spending all of your time with them. Or did the last three movie nights and four game nights just accidentally slip your mind?”

“They didn’t,” Virgil said, looking guilty at least. “I just… I’m hanging around after videos more often now.”

Janus blinked in surprise. “And they’re okay with that?”

“Sometimes,” Virgil said softly. “Patton usually, yes. I think Logan’s a little irritated, and Roman still hates me, but that’s pretty normal.”

Janus stood up slowly, because this was a whole new problem now. Virgil looked upset.

“Virgil,” he said slowly. “You knew going over there that they weren’t going to like you.”

Virgil scowled at him. “I know that,” he said. “I’m not trying to get them to like me. Or, I mean, not that much.”

“But you are trying to get them to like you a little?”

“I’m trying to get them used to seeing me around.”

“What? Why?”

“Well I figured if I did that, and then I asked Patton if you guys could stay, he’d be more likely to say yes,” Virgil said. “If they’re already used to one of us being around.”

“You’re doing what? Virgil, that’s a horrible idea,” Janus said, moving across the room and towards Virgil.

Virgil crossed his arms and started glaring at him. “Well, you’ve refused to let me find any other way of helping you. You’re not giving me much to work with here, Janus.”

Janus’ eyes widened. Virgil was doing this for him?

“Virgil,” Janus said, stepping over and putting his hands on his shoulders. “You shouldn’t do that. Things are fine the way they are, you shouldn’t—”

“Things are not fine the way they are,” Virgil snapped, yanking Janus’ hands down. “Things are about the opposite of fine right now, you’re just refusing to let anyone else know that fact. And I’m not going to let things go on like this, Janus. I have to do something.”

“No, you don’t. I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m actively asking you to not do anything.”

“Yeah, well fuck that noise. You can’t make me stop trying to help you as long as I don’t intentionally do anything to reveal to anyone what’s happening. Which I still think is bullshit, by the way. But if you’re sticking to that, I’ll do this instead. You can tell Remus I’ll be missing game nights and movie nights for a while. And unless you want to tell him the truth, I don’t have a reason to give you.” Virgil stormed back over towards the door, but hesitated before opening it. “You can reassure him I’m not mad at him if he asks,” he said quietly, and then pulled the door open and walked out into the commons, slamming the door shut after him.

Janus stared at the door for a long time after he’d left.

He seemed to have underestimated Virgil’s determination. He probably should have known better than that. But now he had to figure out how to get him to stop. It wasn’t going to be easy. When you made Virgil this determined, not much could stop him. It was part of why Thomas had such an issue with anxiety, and another reason why Janus had kept this from him in the first place.

He sighed, and moved to sit back down at his desk. There was only one real solution here, and he knew it.

Virgil had to leave.

…

So it turns out making Virgil hate him was… disturbingly easy. Granted, he was already angry at him most of the time, it wasn’t hard to push a little further. If Virgil had never found out what was going on, he imagined it would be harder to piss him off this much this easily.

Well, if he hadn’t found out, Janus wouldn’t be trying to piss him off at all, and things could actually be how they were supposed to be.

Couldn’t Virgil see that this was exactly the reason he hadn’t told either of them? “This” being the tiny petulant child that Janus was pretty sure lived inside him and that now spent most of the time screaming that it didn’t want to lose Virgil.

But it was too late for that at this point. If he wasn’t going to keep quiet on his own, Janus had to make him want to. And the fact that it wasn’t hard didn’t sting at all.

It was the little things, really. Make a casual comment that implied he didn’t care when Virgil was sacred. Chuckle in amusement when Virgil was angry with him. Make references to the others that only Virgil would understand, just to rub salt in the wound a little. Ignore the voice in the back of his head that screamed at him to stop whenever Virgil looked furious, or worse, hurt.

Janus had always suspected he’d be a skilled manipulator. He hadn’t planned on testing that theory, not anytime soon and hopefully not ever if he was lucky. And now he was practically using manipulation as a crutch.

Remus didn’t seem to have any idea why any of it was happening, and it was him asking Janus to stop that came the closest to succeeding.

“Why are you acting like this? I don’t understand,” Remus said, following Janus towards his room, despite Janus specifically telling him to stay in the kitchen. “Virgil hasn’t done anything.”

“Remus, I told you to leave me alone,” Janus said.

“Has he done something? Do you want to yell at him or something? Because that would be better. Just, do something other than—”

“Remus,” Janus snapped. “I do not want to yell at him. I want you to leave me alone.”

“But you’re being…” Remus didn’t finish his sentence. “Just tell me why. Tell me why, I’ll beat the problem bloody. I’ll fix it for you.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Remus,” Janus said. “Everything’s fine.” He reached the door of his room and pulled it open just slightly in order to slip through, to make it clear Remus would not be joining him.

“Janus, is something else wrong?” Remus asked quietly.

The bruise that was forming on Janus’ side started to ache.

“Everything is fine, Remus,” he said. “Now go away.”

He slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t really make Remus leave well enough alone, so the questions didn’t stop. Janus definitely wasn’t going to either though, and just pushed back harder against the both of them.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d need to do this, which was a problem because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this. He didn’t like hurting his family. If Virgil didn’t hurry up and either hate him already or at least get out his resolve might break, and that would just create more problems. Maybe if he was just a little worse for this next week, that would do something. But he’d repeated that to himself a couple weeks in a row now. He could only take so much.

And so, it seems, could Virgil.

It was the day he ducked out that Janus realized he’d taken things too far. This hadn’t been what he wanted. He’d just wanted Virgil to leave, not…

He’d paced back and forth in his room all morning, trying to decide what to say to him. Thomas needed Virgil. That was a higher priority than getting him to leave the others. He now needed to convince him to come back, in some way or other. But Virgil wasn’t exactly likely to listen to him anymore. What if anything he tried just made things worse? Either way, he had to do something. Thomas wasn’t going to make it very long without Virgil.

Fortunately for the whole situation, it didn’t seem to take the rest of Thomas long to realize that either. Janus watched almost desperately from the background, and realized in a frightening moment that if they couldn’t convince Virgil to come back on their own, he might be willing to reveal himself to help them try. Thomas was there, Thomas would see him, there was no one to impersonate, but what was he supposed to do instead, just leave Virgil?

They all ended up doing alright on their own, in the end. And in between convincing Virgil to stay and getting the core sides out of Virgil’s room, Thomas accepted Virgil as a part of himself and Virgil told them his name. Janus hadn’t realized how close he really was getting with the core sides until that moment.

Then Roman brought up the others, and Janus was reminded of his actual job and shut him up. Virgil’s response to Thomas’ query on that point alerted Janus to the fact that he was probably about to get yelled at.

He watched until Virgil sank down and then braced himself before sinking out to his room himself.

Virgil was standing over his desk, hands braced against it. He didn’t look too great for someone who had just been accepted by his center.

“Virgil?” Janus asked softly.

Virgil tensed but didn’t turn around. “Get out, Janus.”

“Are you alright?”

Virgil scoffed, and glared over his shoulder. “Since when do you care?”

“Virgil, you… you just…” Janus’ throat closed up before he could get the words out.

Virgil glared back down at his desk. “Whatever.”

“Do you need…” Janus trailed off again. When had he stopped knowing how to talk to Virgil?

“Do I need what, Janus?” Virgil snapped, spinning around. “You can’t just suddenly start caring about me again now that you’ve seen the consequences of not.”

It was a fair statement. Janus didn’t know how to explain that there wasn’t anything sudden about it. Virgil probably wouldn’t even believe him.

“Can I do something?” Janus asked instead. “Can I help you?”

Virgil scoffed again and turned back to face his desk. “I think you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to,” he said.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s not?” He turned to glare at Janus again. “So all the bullshit you’ve been pulling is just, what, tough love?”

“Virgil,” Janus said weakly, stepping forward. “I just— I just couldn’t let you tell anyone else what was going on. It wasn’t—”

“And that translates to ‘time to be a dick to everyone I care about’ how, exactly?” Virgil snapped.

“I was just… I was trying to show you…” Janus said. He still didn’t have a clue what to say.

“Yeah, well newsflash, I wasn’t going to tell anyone because you were quite literally forcing me not to. I can’t tell anyone else because you’re refusing to let me help you! I don’t even know if I want to anymore with everything!”

“Good, because I’ve told you not to multiple times,” Janus snapped, because now at least they were on a topic he knew what to do with. “I’m not going to let you intentionally put yourself in danger for my sake.”

“Well sometimes that’s what you do for people you care about. You just, you’ve turned into a real asshole, you know.”

“Well everything would have been fine if you’d just believed me when I said I can handle a couple bruises on my own!”

“Yeah, well maybe you fucking deserve to!” Virgil screamed.

Janus relaxed slightly in relief. Good. For all of the mistakes he’d made, at least they’d still actually gotten where they needed to. At least Virgil had actually made it to a point of hating him.

But then Virgil stopped, and his face dropped in horror. “Wait,” he said. “No, I didn’t— I didn’t mean that. Fuck, I didn’t— Janus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I swear.”

Janus stared at him for a minute, once again at a loss. “It’s… okay,” he said hesitantly.

Virgil must have taken his shock as hurt, because he stared moving across the room.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have said that Janus, I… you’ll never deserve any of that bullshit, okay? No matter what, you don’t deserve that.”

Janus didn’t know what to say. A part of him wanted to call Virgil’s statement bullshit. He still didn’t think he deserved it? After all of this?

“It’s okay,” he said again anyway. “I’m not mad, Virgil.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and looked down. “What did I do, Janus?”

Janus blinked. “What?”

“What did I do to make you so angry?” Virgil asked, looking up again. “Is it really just because you wanted to keep everything a secret? You’re against accepting my help with this that much?”

Janus stared at him. This wasn’t what he wanted either. Virgil was supposed to get angry and hate him, not… not everything that had happened today.

“I just don’t want you hurt,” Janus said softly.

Virgil stared at him for a minute, and then laughed a little. Janus was pretty sure it was about the worst laugh he’d ever heard.

“Well, good fucking job, Janus,” he said, turning back around to face his desk one last time.

Janus swallowed past a lump in his throat. He moved forward and reached out to gently put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil jerked away. “Get out,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out.”

Janus took a step back, looked at Virgil’s hunched shoulders and tense stance.

He… he was done here, wasn’t he?

Janus sank out to his own room without another word.

Remus was waiting on his bed. He looked up at Janus, with a small look on his face that never belonged on the face of someone like Remus.

After a moment, Remus stood up. He walked over to stand in front of Janus, and seemed to read something on his face, though Janus wasn’t sure what.

Remus shook his head and looked down. “Well? Are you happy now, then?” he asked. He turned and walked out of Janus’ room, closing the door after him. He didn’t even slam it.

Janus walked over to the door and almost opened it to go after him, but his hand was starting to shake and he couldn’t get a good grip on the knob.

He turned and leaned back against the door, sank down against it, and then buried his head in his knees and sobbed.

…

Remus didn’t stay mad at him forever. It wasn’t in his nature after all, and eventually he got lonely. Janus was also around just as much as he was regularly, because, whether Remus was mad or not, Janus still had people to protect him from.

Virgil being gone didn’t change any of the terms of his agreements, of course, though it did mean Janus had less people as a whole to watch out for. Virgil would be safe with the core sides and Thomas. Janus had made sure of that for the weeks following his leaving. He knew what red flags to look for if someone was going to try and hurt him, and the core sides didn’t exhibit any of them. Mostly they were trying to make up to Virgil everything they’d done to him already. But they were genuinely trying, which meant Virgil was safe, and Janus could rest a little easier at the thought.

It took Remus a long time, but after he seemed to understand that Janus understood that he was the one who’d screwed up, things started to slowly but surely return to normal. Then, after a long time, Janus got the sense that Remus had forgiven him.

That last part Janus hadn’t expected. It was his fault that Virgil had left, and with Remus’ history with abandonment, he hadn’t thought Remus would ever move past it. When he hesitantly brought it up one night, Remus just looked at him, shrugged, and said quietly that Janus was the last family he had left.

Janus had to take a couple breaths at that point to make sure he didn’t do something stupid like start crying.

After a while, life settled into a new normal. Some parts were still the same, of course. Janus still woke up bruised or injured more often than not. Remus still left mass destruction in his wake. Thomas still tried much too hard to be a good person instead of just breathing and acknowledging what he’d already done.

But Virgil being gone made things… darker, in a way. Janus could tell he was missed by him and Remus both. He wondered sometimes if Virgil missed them too. He ended up deciding that no, probably not. He’d wanted to have the core side’s good opinions before he left, and now he had them. He might miss Remus, he supposed. But Janus felt he could safely say he’d damaged their relationship too severely for Virgil to actually miss him. And when he revealed himself to Thomas, he was proven right.

It’s not like he meant to. If he’d had his way, Thomas would have agreed to lie and he would have left as Patton with him being none the wiser. Virgil figured it out, though. And from that point, everyone else realized rather quickly, which resulted in Thomas learning of his existence.

That was the part that disturbed Janus the most. If Virgil could reveal him so easily, who’s to say he couldn’t find a way to reveal… other things Janus wanted hidden. But Virgil being so angry at him did calm him down a little on that front. He clearly didn’t care enough anymore to try and tell anyone, which was a relief that came from this, if nothing else.

The accidental reveal moved up his plans quite a bit, but also gave him the ability to just pop in and see Thomas if he wanted to. No one really seemed to like that much, but Janus hadn’t been expecting that anyway.

Then he introduced Remus, and something he had been expecting sort of fell through. Thomas ignored him.

Not in the sense that Remus didn’t have an impact, in the sense that Thomas learned to ignore Remus. And in ignoring him, he let him sort of just… hang around. And Remus being over with the core sides more didn’t really bring good times for Janus.

He got used to always waking up with at least one part of him hurting. When Remus was gone for multiple days at a time he could almost count on being killed at some point during them. On days where Remus would certainly be gone, the commons might as well be a battlefield. It was funny, with how hard Janus tried to protect Remus, that Remus’ general presence ended up doing something of the opposite.

But he couldn’t be mad at Remus for wanting to spend time with the core sides. His center was there. His brother and Virgil were there. It’s not like he wasn’t still making time for Janus. It wasn’t his fault he’d need to be around all the time in order for Janus to be the least bit safe. He hadn’t ever told him that.

Either way, he started to feel dread pool in his stomach every time Remus gave Janus a quick hug and ran towards the other side of the mindscape.

“Tommy-boy’s brainstorming a video,” Remus said happily one morning. “I think I might go bug Roman until he agrees to add some of my ideas.”

“Has he been listening to them lately?” Janus asked curiously, shoving the nerves down.

“Yeah, he has actually,” Remus said, looking a little bit confused at the fact. “I think he might just be trying to ignore me after Logan finally explained that to him, but hey, it’s better than it was.”

“That’s good,” Janus said, squeezing his fork a little bit tighter. “I’m happy for you, Remus.”

“I’m happy for me too!” Remus said with a beaming smile. It faded quickly the next second. “But uh, this doesn’t mean I’m not going to be back here for movie night. You know that, right?”

“Remus, it’s okay,” Janus said, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “I recognize your efforts, okay? I know you’re not going to abandon me.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m super not,” Remus said firmly. “If you don’t go, I don’t go, end of story.”

Janus smiled, the relief probably a little more obvious on his face than he wanted it to be. “Agreed, and same here,” he said, and Remus grinned back at him.

Not long after that Remus vanished for most of the day, and not long after that Janus was approached by Malice. A hand came down lightly on his shoulder, and Janus looked wearily over it to see Malice standing there.

“Good morning, Deceit,” Malice said. It would have sounded calm and casual to anyone who hadn’t spent decades learning to read the coldness behind his voice.

“Malice,” Janus said. “Did you need something?”

“You know why I’m here, Deceit,” Malice said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I don’t like the way you’re suddenly trying to stall all the time. You’ve been in this business for too long to not know exactly what I want from you.”

Janus didn’t know quite how to describe that none of this had felt like “just business” for a very long time. The recent developments of Remus being gone more often had only made worse what he’d already felt. So sometimes, Janus just needed a few seconds of stalling before they started on what they both knew was coming. But it’s not like Malice would care about any of that.

Janus sighed and rose to his feet. “Let me do the dishes first,” he said, picking up Remus’ which he had thankfully left there. “Remus will wonder why they aren’t done.”

Well, actually no, Remus wouldn’t give two shits about the dishes unless Janus gave him permission to break them, but Janus just needed some time to brace himself.

“You should be in my room in five minutes,” Malice said, leaving the ‘or else’ unspoken for both of them, though there were a couple guesses as to what it would mean. Or else I’ll kill you, maybe. Or else I’ll make it worse. Probably both, in all honesty.

Janus took the dishes over to the sink and debated whether or not he wanted that. Well, he had been wanting a vacation. And this was probably the easiest way to get it.

Janus turned on some music to time himself and started moving slowly.

…

Janus could tell the second he opened his eyes that the mindscape was not the way he’d left it. It wasn’t the feeling that usually came with suddenly returning after being dead, either. Something was wrong.

Janus pushed himself quickly up from his bed and ignored the way his entire body ached. What happened, what had gone wrong, what had he done?

Janus moved over towards his door and took a half a second to prepare himself for whatever might happen, then pulled it open.

The commons was an absolute wreck. Tables were overturned, couch cushions ripped in half and stuck to the wall with some kind of sticky substance. He was pretty sure he smelled smoke somewhere. What the hell had happened? He’d been dead for what, three days?

Janus started as quickly as he could for the kitchen, mostly because it was as good a place to start as any. He’d just finished confirming that no clues were there, however, when from behind him came a cry of “DEE!” and a body slammed into him.

Janus immediately tensed up, from both pain and fear. No one usually attacked him with full body slams, what did this mean? Were they trying to find new ways to be creative? Did that mean he was getting boring? Oh god, what were they going to do to Remus if he was boring?

“Where have you been?” the person asked, and most of Janus’ fears evaporated. Remus. Remus was just hugging him.

“What?” Janus croaked, his voice scratchy from disuse.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone, I couldn’t find you,” Remus said, squeezing Janus tightly. Janus had to hold back a hiss of pain.

Luckily, he had an excuse for this kind of thing already. “I was just having some self-care days,” Janus said. “Did I lose track of time?”

“But you missed movie night,” Remus said. “And I went in your room to look for you and you weren’t there. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Janus said, trying to focus the conversation on the mistake he’d made instead of the fact that Remus couldn’t find him. “I should have remembered our movie night Remus, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t disappear like that again,” Remus said. “Please? I couldn’t find you, I was worried.”

“Okay,” Janus said weakly, wincing as Remus squeezed him even tighter. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Janus felt like he was trying to play catch up. What made this so different? He’d died before, and Virgil and Remus had always bought his self care excuse—

Virgil. This was the first time Remus had been here when he was dead since Virgil had left, wasn’t it? He’d been trying to be more careful when Remus wasn’t over bothering the others, but everything had just felt like so much lately, he’d needed a break from it all. He hadn’t even thought of the fact that Remus would probably notice this time.

God, he’d left Remus exposed. What was he thinking?

Janus tried to relax as much as he could so Remus’ hug wouldn’t hurt as much. He was not going to die again. No matter what. He couldn’t abandon Remus like that. He had to be more careful from now on.

“I won’t do that again, Remus,” Janus said, squeezing Remus’ hand with as much strength as he had right now. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Remus whispered, burying his head in Janus’ shoulder.

“Hey,” Janus said weakly. He turned slightly in Remus’ arms so he could look back at his face. “Hey. Let’s have a movie night tonight to make up for it.”

Remus smiled a little. “Yeah?”

Janus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Remus said, pulling Janus into another hug, this one gentler, so Janus could appreciate it.

“I’m sorry I left, Remus,” Janus said. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“I believe you,” Remus said, and Janus sighed in relief. Neither of them moved for a while.

Eventually Remus laughed a little, though it didn’t really sound like he meant it completely. “I think everyone else got really mad about how much I messed up the commons looking for you,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the subject based on his tone. “Sorry about that.”

Janus winced inwardly. “It’s okay,” he said anyway.

The others were definitely going to take that out on him later. Oh well, he’d live.

He’d make sure of it this time.

…

Janus couldn’t think of many worse situations to be in than being on the run while Pride was pissed. At least if Cruelty and Malice were pissed, Janus could have something of an idea of what to expect. Long hours of grueling torture, really. And that wasn’t fun, but they’d want as much pain as they could get until they were satisfied, and that meant they’d usually make sure not to kill him. Pride, on the other hand, had no such failsafe.

Managing not to die had been harder than Janus expected when he’d made the promise to Remus. It meant being on edge, making sure the others were satisfied with what they got without having to resort to killing him. It wasn’t necessarily difficult, he knew these sides well by now and he knew what they’d want. It was just exhausting. Janus hadn’t realized how much a full time job it would be to keep all of them happy. And now he was at serious risk of breaking his promise to Remus if he couldn’t think of a way to get Pride to calm down.

He made it to his room, at least, and slammed the door behind him. But that wouldn’t buy him much time, not really. No one could get into his room if he locked it, but if he didn’t face the music eventually, it would just be worse for him down the line. He’d have to come up with something else, quickly.

An angry fist slammed against his door, and Janus jumped. Wasn’t Remus working on something with his brother tonight? If he could just last until he got back—

Another fist, and Pride screaming his name. Janus squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe. What could he do, where did he have to go, Remus wouldn’t get here fast enough, but he didn’t want to break his promise either. It didn’t matter how much he needed a break, if he had to wake up and find Remus desperately looking for him, he still wouldn’t get much relaxation from time being dead.

He just needed somewhere else to go.

A ludicrous idea popped into his head, and Janus almost dismissed it immediately.

Loud, angry fist. “DECEIT, YOU GET OUT HERE!”

Oh, what the hell. He had nothing to lose.

Janus sank out, praying to whoever was listening that no one would be in the other commons, because unless he was really slipping in his knowledge of everyone, this room wouldn’t be open.

Yep. He appeared just outside of Virgil’s door, meaning he’d locked his room. Thankfully, someone must have been listening to his prayers after all, because when Janus looked around, no one else was there.

He knocked on the door, trying to keep it quiet. Please don’t let Virgil have locked his door because he’d left.

But no, thankfully he heard a call of “I’m coming!” from inside, and a second later Virgil pulled the door open.

He jerked back in surprise when he saw Janus, and started glaring away a second later. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Can I, um,” Janus gasped, and Virgil looked back at him, eyes widening slightly when he noticed Janus’ condition. “Do you have somewhere I could stay tonight?”

Virgil stared at him for a second longer. “What?”

“I just— I can’t find Remus and Pride is— but I promise Remus I wouldn’t— I could stay on the couch instead, if you want.”

“You—” Virgil looked Janus up and down, and seemed to finally realize what a wreck he was, as if the stammering and the asking him for help hadn’t given him a clue.

Virgil looked at him for a moment longer, and Janus tried to not let how desperate he was show. He was pretty sure he failed miserably.

Finally, Virgil sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Just this once.” He stepped aside and Janus walked past him into the room. He made it across the room and to the desk before he had to brace himself on the back of his chair to keep his knees from buckling under him.

Virgil shut the door and moved over and sat on his bed at first, and Janus took a moment to breathe and try and let himself calm down. Virgil’s room probably wouldn’t be helpful for that. He shifted slightly to try and move around to sit in the chair, but his legs wobbled dangerously, so after a moment he stayed put.

“Okay, what the hell did they do?” Virgil asked, looking at Janus with poorly-veiled concern. “You’re not usually this… obvious.”

“It wasn’t just something they did tonight,” Janus murmured. “Remus has just been over here more lately, it’s… been a lot. But I promised him I wouldn’t leave. I’ve been trying not to die lately, and on top of everything else, I—” Janus leaned his elbow on the chair and pressed his forehead onto his hand. “I’m tired, okay? Sue me.”

“Fuck, Remus has been over here more, hasn’t he?” Virgil muttered, more to himself, though Janus still heard it. “Is that why you’re not looking for him? He’s over bugging Roman, you know.”

“No, that… that would be something else,” Janus murmured.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Janus murmured, mostly out of habit. He shifted to lean more heavily on the chair to try and push himself up. His arms were shaking as he did it. There wasn’t much he could do about that.

“I’ll worry about what I damn well please,” Virgil snapped. “And stop pushing yourself for fuck’s sake, you’re gonna— come here.”

Virgil stood up, and a second later hands grasped Janus under the armpits and pulled him up the rest of the way. Before any part of Janus’ body could protest, Virgil shifted him and pulled his arm over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to—” Janus started.

“Shut up.”

Virgil carried them both into his bathroom, which Janus was pretty sure he’d never been in before. Virgil sat Janus down on the toilet and reached under the sink. He pulled out a first aid kit and turned to face Janus, which was probably when he noticed how the front of his shirt was wet and sticking to his stomach.

Virgil sighed harshly, and pulled Janus’ cape off to hang on the doorknob. “Is this why you weren’t looking for Remus?” he asked, helping Janus pull his shirt off.

Janus didn’t reply, which was probably enough of an answer.

Virgil set the first aid kit aside and grabbed a rag to start cleaning the stab wound, as Janus tried to ignore the feeling of deja vu that was coming from all of this.

Janus would never admit it, but it felt nice to be able to relax and let Virgil take care of cleaning and bandaging the wounds again. He wasn’t sure he would have had the strength to do it himself.

“Jan,” Virgil said quietly. “Why did you make trying not to die sound like something that would take effort?”

“Since when do you care?” Janus muttered, wincing when Virgil started rubbing the peroxide soaked rag over the wound.

“Answer the question.”

Janus leaned over onto the counter right next to the toilet. “I just need a break sometimes, alright?”

“What— you need a break so you die?”

“Well I don’t see how else I’m supposed to do it at this point,” Janus muttered. “And I haven’t died in a couple weeks, relax.”

“What— oh, well sure, in that case! Goddammit, Janus.”

“What do you want from me?” Janus murmured.

“Oh, we’ve had this conversation too many times for you to not know exactly what I want from you,” Virgil snapped, and Janus’ blood ran cold.

He jerked backwards and shoved Virgil’s hands away in one movement, and Virgil jumped slightly in surprise.

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Don’t fucking say that!” Janus snapped, with enough sudden energy that it seemed to catch Virgil by surprise. “You don’t get to want anything from me.”

“Uh, excuse you, but I think I’m well within my rights to want a couple things from you,” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes.

“Fuck you,” Janus snapped, pushing himself back against the counter until he was pressed against the back of the toilet.

Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm. “Janus, don’t do that, you’re going to make your wound worse,” he said, leaning forward.

Janus flinched and leapt off the toilet while simultaneously forming his hands into fists. He wasn’t sure which part of himself to block, but fortunately everything he’d done seemed to surprise Virgil enough that he just stopped moving towards him altogether.

“Wait,” he said. “I’m not going to— Janus,” Virgil said. He looked down at Janus’ hands, then back up at his face. “I’m not… what did I say?”

Janus lowered his hands slightly. “What?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Virgil said, taking a step back, and Janus blinked. He hadn’t even really processed that fear until Virgil said it. “What did I say?”

Janus thought back over the conversation, and slowly dropped his hands as what had happened processed.

“‘Exactly what I want from you,’” Janus said hesitantly. “That was my fault, I shouldn’t have asked that question in the first place.”

“You’re not at fault for having triggers,” Virgil said, just as hesitantly. “I’ll… not say that in the future.”

Janus looked at him for a second, and after a moment Virgil looked back.

“Can I…” he gestured to Janus’ stomach. “Do you want me to finish helping you with that?”

Janus looked down again and noticed he really had made his wound worse. Dammit. He sat down again, and Virgil finished cleaning and wrapping it in silence. The sudden adrenaline spike that Janus had gotten faded as he did, and he slumped against the counter.

“What do you want from me?” he asked again, quietly.

Virgil glanced up at him, biting his lip. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “An apology? One you mean? And for you to let me tell everyone what’s going on?”

“I’m not letting you tell anyone anything,” Janus said, which Virgil looked like he expected.

Janus looked down at his bandages. “I am sorry, though,” he said quietly. He didn’t look up to see Virgil’s face, and Virgil didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Janus said. “I just wanted you safe.”

“And you think that wasn’t exactly what I wanted for you?” Virgil asked.

“I knew that,” Janus said. He kept his gaze firmly away from Virgil’s face. “Why do you think I tried to get you to leave?”

There were a couple seconds of dead silence.

“You asshole.”

Janus didn’t say anything.

“You’re still missing the fucking point, aren’t you?” Virgil snapped, and Janus looked up in confusion.

“What?”

“However much I may or may not hate you is fucking irrelevant,” Virgil said. “Because whether or not you deserve to be tortured does not depend on how much I like you. It doesn’t matter what you do. You’re still not going to convince me you deserve that.”

Janus stared at Virgil. “You… really?”

“What do you mean really? Yes really. Why the hell would I—” Virgil stopped. “What… what do you mean really, Janus?”

Janus looked away.

“Janus,” Virgil said, moving forward and grabbing him by the hands. “Janus, what do you mean really?”

Janus didn’t say anything. Virgil squeezed his hands tighter but didn’t say anything else.

After a pause that lasted much too long, Virgil pulled Janus up and led them both back into his room while Janus was still too surprised by the action to actually stop him.

Virgil pulled open a drawer in his dresser and grabbed a shirt that he passed over to Janus. “Put that on,” he said. “I’m going to wash your shirt and cape tomorrow, when no one else is there don’t worry, and then we’re going to tell Roman and Patton and Logan that you’re staying here.”

Janus blinked. “What?”

“You’re staying here, Janus.”

Janus shook his head. “Virgil, I can’t stay here. Remus will—”

“He’s staying too.”

“Virgil,” Janus said in exasperation. “Do you really think they’ll let us?”

“They can try to stop you, but they’ll have to fucking get through me,” Virgil spat. “You’re going to stay here, and Remus is going to stay here, and you’re going to lock the other side of the mindscape up so hard they’ll forget how to open a door.”

Janus sighed. “And then what, Virgil? We’ll all sing campfire songs and watch sitcoms together? Thomas hates us both.”

“You were working on that already,” Virgil said like that solved the entire problem. “And quite frankly, I don’t care what everyone else thinks of you and Remus as long as they don’t torture you.”

“Not a very high bar, huh?” Janus muttered.

“It’s better than the situation you are actually legitimately dealing with right now. This is not up for debate. Lay down and go to bed. We’ll talk to everyone else tomorrow.”

“That is still kind of my decision,” Janus pointed.

“Not anymore. If you try and keep me from talking to them, I swear to fucking god I will work day and night until I find loopholes in your bullshit. And then guess what I’ll be telling them next. So yeah, I guess you’re right. Whichever one of those happens is entirely your decision. Take your pick.”

Janus narrowed his eyes. Virgil narrowed his right back.

Janus didn’t stop glaring, but he did start to consider the idea. Could that even work? Would the others stay locked away if he tried to make them? And then what, he and Remus just move over here and he never tells Remus why? They have to live with the rest of the core sides? He just walks around not having to think about his and Remus’ safety constantly? He gets to actually do things he enjoys like take long bubble baths and read books about philosophy and just spend time with the people he cares about? He gets a chance at fixing things with Virgil?

…Well, fuck.

Janus considered that for a moment longer. Could he actually hope to deserve something like that?

He looked up at Virgil again, not sure when he’d looked down. Virgil looked just as determined as before.

Janus sighed, all of whatever fight was left draining out of him. “Alright,” he said quietly, and to his surprise, Virgil seemed to sag in relief too.

“Okay,” Virgil said, and Janus realized from the tone of his voice that he hadn’t actually expected Janus to agree just like that. “Well, good. Okay.” Virgil let out another sigh of relief. “Okay, lay down,” he said, gesturing towards the bed. “You need sleep to help recover from everything.”

“It’s your bed,” Janus said in surprise.

“You’re the one with the stab wound. I’ll go tell Remus we’re having a sleepover with Roman, he’ll be thrilled.”

Janus smiled, just a little. “Roman won’t be.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Virgil said, starting towards the door. He stopped just before he left. “Be here tomorrow, okay?” he asked, glancing back at Janus. “Please.”

Janus nodded. “I will,” he said quietly.

Virgil nodded back, and then finally headed out.

Janus moved to sit on the bed. He’d probably have a nightmare if he spent the night in Virgil’s room, but he’d probably have a nightmare anyway. And it was better than going back to deal with the others.

A lot of what was about to happen sounded better than going back to deal with the others.

Janus pulled the covers back and climbed under them. Virgil would no doubt keep trying to convince him to tell the others everything that was happening— everything that had happened?

But that could come later. For now, Janus would sleep, and if they all had to wait a little longer to find out? Well.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you, after all.

Chapter Two

#sanders sides #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #tw abuse #tw torture #nothing is graphic #angst #my fic

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bloodpenned · 3 years

Text

today i am rambling about kylar again! i had the idea of them, when they’re still too shy to talk to you face to face, they may try become an online ‘friend’ instead !!

cw: stalking, emotional manipulation

It doesn’t matter if your social media isn’t connected to your real name, they’ll find it one way or another. Maybe they hover near you while you’re definitely not using one of the library computers to procrastinate on the work you’re supposed to be doing, and catch your username that way. Regardless, Kylar isn’t going to just approach you with a simple ‘hey’. They don’t have the courage to, for one, and if the conversation bled dry they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. Cry, probably.

They’ll analyse everything they can. What you’re posting about, who you’re following, what you’re commenting on, which posts you’re liking... Once they start, they can’t stop. Not even as their eyes start burning from the screen, not even as they start nodding off. Finding more and more little pieces of information sates a hunger they weren’t aware of yet, and simultaneously fuels it. Your typing quirks, your interests, your annoyances, your worries- You’ve never had a proper conversation, and it already feels like they’ve known you for months.

Next, they’ll make your interests their own. Oh, you’ve been playing a certain game a lot? They’ll finish it in a time that’d qualify as a speedrun and would grind to hell and back if it’s multiplayer. (If, someday, you’d want to play with them, they’d better be prepared.) Novels are read, shows are watched, and Kylar will dive into every other relevant subject. It doesn’t matter if they wouldn’t like it otherwise. Imagining you getting excited after discovering your similar interests gives them enough of a rush to keep going. They’ll be whoever you need them to be.

Even when they do finally approach you, you won’t be able to tell it’s them. You aren’t showing your face or name either, so it doesn’t matter. It’s nervewracking. As soon as they ‘send’ they regret it, a nauseating wave of nerves slamming into them. They throw away their phone like it burns their flesh. While waiting for your response, they can’t focus on anything else, pacing in their room and jumping at every notification. When you finally do respond, and you’re nice and willing to talk, they reread the message in trembling hands. Once, twice, thrice. They take a screenshot of it too. It takes incredible restraint not to respond within seconds.

They’re overjoyed when you two hit it off! Every second of preparations had been worth it for this. The more you talk however, the more nervous they’ll get when you don’t immediately respond. Did they say something wrong? Are you talking to someone else? Are you in trouble? They’ll start rambling about something random, seperated in multiple texts. Maybe you just missed the first one! If you disappear long enough, like an entire day, and they can’t find you around town either, they’ll start spamming your phone until you respond. The best way to keep them calm would be to tell them whenever you’re gone for a while and how long for.

Using whatever coverstory they can, they’ll try to send you a file. Unless you’ve said you don’t play any, they’ll disguise it as a game you two could play together. You’d like to join? They’ll send it over right now. What, it didn’t work? Oh, that’s weird! Hmm, they’ll try again. The second time, it goes without issue. Why? The first message was just a way for them to install a keylogger onto your laptop, not that they’d tell you. Now they can read everything you search for, every message you send. Every time they check the logs, they hope to find their name mentioned, like you spilling to one of your other friends how much you like them. Just thinking about it makes their face flush.

Another one of their fantasies would be to find you in VC, alone, after having fallen asleep. Kylar would curl up and hug a pillow to their chest while listening to the soft sounds of your breathing and whatever cute noises you make while resting. (And, if they’re being self indulgent enough, imagine you mumbling their name. They’re on your mind even in your dreams, just like you appear in theirs.) If they squeeze their eyes shut, they’d almost be able to imagine you next to them.

It takes some time for Kylar to jealous enough, but if they aren’t obviously your first choice, their urge to force your other (online) friends out of the picture grows. They will get sudden influxes of hate on their accounts. Selfies will be mocked by dozens of recently made accounts, inboxes flooded with disgusting threats and false rumours spread. Like for most people, it’s even easier for Kylar to speak their mind online. None of their thoughts are pretty. They aren’t stupid enough to ever tie this back to you, though. No mention of your name will ever be made, no ‘stop talking to them and i’ll stop’. What if they’ll end up thinking you’re the one doing this for attention? You shouldn’t end up hurt because of this. Or, well, more than a little bit hurt. It’s inevitable you’ll be upset as your friends are taking breaks from or leaving social media, one by one. Aren’t you lucky to have Kylar to comfort you whenever you need them to?

Only talking to you online has never been their end goal, though. It’s just the beginning. They watch you while you’re on your phone at school, and their heart flutters when you laugh or smile at something they sent . If they weren’t certain before, having talked to you so much has solidified you in their mind as absolutely perfect. All the signs are pointing towards you loving them too. You’re having so much fun talking to them, what else could it be? All that’s left to do now, is think of a special way to reveal their identity. It’s going to be a big moment in your relationship and you’ll be so happy, they can’t just simply come out and say it. No matter how much they want to.

#kylar the loner x reader #kylar the loner #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol #dol x reader

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 2

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Read Part One

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, this chapter talks about Reverend Teagardin/his actions towards the young girls in the story (nothing is described in detail- just accusations discussing how he gives off bad vibes and is creepy- if you’ve seen the film you already know)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

It was always so hot in that little one room chapel. There was no fan and everyone would be crushed in together like sardines. The air was always sticky and it turned everyone sluggish. Your mama never brought you and Tommy to church, but you saw how that singled you out in this community. The judgmental looks people would give you for not going always made you feel like they viewed your family as trailer trash. So when they left, you started going regular like everyone else. You wanted to make a good impression and give yourself an opportunity to be more involved in the community. You used to attend with Arvin’s family, but now you sit on the opposite side of the aisle.

You and Arvin were still on friendly terms. On your nights off, sometimes you’d be invited to join them for supper. Ever since you and Arvin broke up, you’ve politely denied his grandmother’s thoughtful invitations. Now that you were living alone with the Sheriff, you wouldn’t anticipate any more neighborly invitations but instead prayers to save your soul, like you weren’t already damned for ‘peddling the Devil’s drink’ as you’ve heard alcohol referred to so many times by Ms. Russell.

You didn’t care much for the new reverend, and you found yourself often zoning out during his sermons. You were more preoccupied with the uncomfortableness of the pews and how your thighs felt like you’d be ripping giant band-aids off the back of them when you stand up after the service ended- even if it was a cooler day. Reverend Teagardin made a terrible first impression in your opinion, and he never did nothing to make you think you were misjudging him. You trusted the Sheriff’s advice to steer clear of him. Though based on the liking he’d taken to talking to the high school aged girls after service ended, you were thinking you were too old for him anyways. You shook your head, chastising yourself for joking about something like that even just to yourself. You made sure to tell Lee whenever he did something to tip you off that he might be trouble. You didn’t trust him one bit.

After the service, you were almost ambushed by a couple of women who were notoriously known for being the town’s busy bodies. The shorter of the two was Ethel Perry, who absolutely wreaked of cigarette smoke and always carried a little beaded purse. The other was Ida Sinclair, whose hair was a silver blue, and always wore a turtleneck and a thick sweater overtop even in the middle of hot summer days. They were sweet ladies, and normally you’d love to gab and let them fill you in on all the town gossip. They were great to talk to. But now that you were on the other side of their gossip, their nice demeanor felt much more predatory now that they were seeking you out for information instead of sharing it.

“Sweetheart,” Ida said sweetly, cornering you outside by the steps. “You poor thing how are you holding up?” You were buttoning up your jacket, when the pair snuck up on you, catching you off guard.

“Oh Mrs. Sinclair, I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me,” you say, giving them a small smile.

“Is it true you’re renting a room to Sheriff Bodecker?” Ms. Perry interjects, not even bothering with the small talk. You almost respected her more direct approach, the small talk Ms. Sinclair was attempting to make made you feel a tinge resentful of their attitude towards you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, not giving her anymore details. If she wanted the gossip, she’d need to own up to being direct in her behavior.

“We heard Janie kicked him out of the house,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her face plastered with worry like she felt sorry for the man. You smiled through your teeth and nodded.

“Makes sense,” Ms. Perry added, “Him needing a room and with your mama leaving you here alone and all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say smiling through your teeth, you hadn’t realized you were grinding down on them that hard.

“Ms. Beaumont was going on and on yesterday about how it wasn’t fitting,” Ms. Perry continued. “You being a young single girl- working at that terrible bar, renting out a room to a man. She was insinuating something awful- but don’t worry dear. We know she’s just being meddlesome and trying to stir the pot where she shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Ms. Perry,” you responded, sarcastically but they didn’t pick up on it. “It was lovely seeing you both,” you say, stepping away, “but I should be heading home now.”

“Too bad the Sheriff doesn’t come to Church,” Mrs. Sinclair, said, “He could be driving you, so you don’t have to be walking.”

The Sheriff worked on Sunday mornings and both of them knew that. You knew it was just an attempt to insinuate something else you didn’t have the patience to try to decode. You just nodded as a goodbye and started walking home. It never took long to walk, and you wouldn’t bother the Sheriff for a ride unless you really needed one- like if it was bad weather or if you were leaving work too late at night. You didn’t mind walking at all- gave you a chance to just clear your head and enjoy the fresh air, especially after getting out of that stuffy chapel.

You knew the Sheriff actually wasn’t working today. He told you this morning he was going to the courthouse to sign his divorce papers and then to pick up his stuff at the house. You’d see him later on that night when he finished that whole mess. It was the quickest divorce you’d ever seen. Neither one of them seemed to care to get lawyers. Based on what Lee told you so far, he really just was fine with her taking anything she asked for- including the house. His indifference to the whole thing really was like no divorce you’d ever heard about. You sympathized, because it was just him not wanting to prolong the painful ordeal of it all. He just wanted to get it all over and done with, and you understood that.

When you got home, you changed out of your Sunday dress and into some work clothes. A pair of overalls, a short sleeved tshirt and a pair of your old saddle shoes. You protected your hair with a bandana and decided to get to work. You got some free cardboard boxes from the grocer yesterday, and you resolved to help Lee out and clear out all of your mom’s old stuff. You told him when he left to leave the door unlocked for you and it would be cleared out as best you could get it so he’d had somewhere to put his stuff when he got back.

You started with the closet and getting rid of all her clothes. You’d call the donation center tomorrow and they’d send someone to come pick it all up. You weren’t sentimental about anything that belonged to her. Much like the Sheriff and his divorce, you just wanted to get this stuff out of the house and get the chore over with. You kept the photographs, and some of the things you knew might be worth something, like any of the jewelry she’d left in her jewelry box. You took anything that was hers and either tossed it or put it in the large donation pile.

You knew the weather tonight would be fine, so you opted to carry all the boxes outside and stack them on the porch. You figured it would be better and easier to deal with if you piled the full boxes outside before they came tomorrow. You didn’t touch Tommy’s room. You figured there was no need, and he was the only one out of the two you had a small amount of hope would someday come back, even if it was just to visit.

You closed the first box, and carried it down the hall and down the stairs slowly because it blocked your vision. At the bottom of the stairs, you propped the box on your hip so you could open the door. You then walked sideways out of the front door to drop it on the porch. As you were walking out you saw the familiar cruiser, driving down the road. You smiled, actually liking the feeling of having someone living with you. It was a little exciting. It was clouded by terrible circumstances on both your parts, but you hadn’t realized how lonely you had been living alone- even if it had only been a couple of days of Lee being here.

When Lee saw you walk out on the porch, he almost hit the garage door. You looked absolutely gorgeous, sweaty from working around the house and moving boxes. His heart felt strained in his chest when you smiled at him. That right there made his whole shitty day worth it. He hated facing Janie, scribbling his signature fast as ever on every document thrown at him. He hated that she was there with Miller, him standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder comforting her, like she wasn’t the adulterer in the room. It was infuriating.

He felt like a stranger in his own goddamn house, rummaging through everything grabbing what was his. Janie watched him like a hawk, following him around and saying nothing, like he wasn’t to be trusted to not take something. What like he’d steal something that was his? He hardly spoke two words to her. Miller sitting in his recliner, watching the news on the television. She made no attempt to even shield him from the look of another man living there. She wasted no time, announcing she’d be marrying the bastard as Lee was leaving. He mumbled a ‘congratulations’ and loaded the few boxes he had into the trunk of the cruiser.

Now seeing you there standing on the porch, all the bullshit he had to put up with today seemed worth it. It was grounding. He sighed, tossing his hat on the seat, and zipping up his leather jacket- ignoring the way it was fitting a little snugger. As he fumbled with the zipper, his mind started to wander- thoughts always clouded with you. He was usually able to keep his feeling pushed away when he was out, but the second he would see you again, all progress was lost. And here you are, like you were waiting for him to come back to you.

“I still have a few more boxes,” you say as he closes the door to the cruiser.

“I can move them,” he tries to protest, but you’ve already disappeared back into the house. He gets his own boxes out of the trunk and brings them into the house, leaving them on the living room floor for now. He hangs up his coat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, and then heads up the narrow staircase to see if he can help you. He gets to his room and he stops in the doorway, dead in his tracks. You’re on the floor, on your knees in front of a box, using a roll of packing tape to secure it shut. His heart stops and he’s frozen. He stutters to make himself known, but you don’t seem to notice the way he reacted to you. He’s relieved that you don’t seem to miss a beat, pushing the box in his direction, your way of telling him he can bring it outside. You stretch over and pull another box in front of you and begin placing folded clothes that were on the floor inside just to fill it to the brim completely before closing it.

That silent assembly line of the two of you makes the work go by quick. You have six large boxes ready to get picked up tomorrow sitting on the front porch, and Lee is able to bring his stuff upstairs. You decide to let him have some time to just settle, and you get started on what to do for dinner when you see it getting pretty late in the afternoon.

There was never any spoken agreement that you’d both eat together. It just kind of happens on its on the past two nights he’s been here. You’d be making dinner for yourself anyways, and making something for two isn’t that much more work. You know he doesn’t expect you to cook for him at all, but since you were taking up the kitchen anyways you don’t mind. You weren’t the best cook, but you’re pretty sure your cooking beats a cold sandwich from the diner.

Upstairs, Lee was letting his emotions get the best of him. His ever-present feelings for you- he actually wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attraction, or maybe he was so used to coldness from Janie that he’s falling apart at a woman being nice to him and treating like a person. He needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing how you looked packing the boxes up. On your knees, the overalls hugging your figure, the little bit of sweat on your brow- it was the best sight he ever got the pleasure of seeing. He looks at the mirror that sat in the corner of the room. He sighs looking over his appearance.

There’s no way a beautiful, young girl like you would look at him the same way, as much as he wished it. His slightly protruding stomach, a sign of all the drinking and his bad diet. He had a little bit of a double chin from angles as well. He sticks is neck out to try to remember what his face looked like when his jaw was more defined. He realizes how ridiculous he was being. He didn’t think you were the kind of person to care that much about the things that very much bothered him. He runs a hand through his hair, and continues to hang up his shirts in the closet. You were turning him soft, and you had no idea.

He hears you coming up the stairs, and he feels his heartbeat quicken like you were going to catch him thinking about you. He was being so stupid, he chastises himself. He couldn’t have you affecting him like this. He turned his head and catches your eye as you are heading into the bathroom in the hallway.

“Just washing up before supper,” you say casually, and heading into the bathroom. He had to pull himself together. He sighed, thinking about your sweetness and hospitality ever since he showed up at your door two nights ago. You welcomed him into your home without a second thought. You trusted him, and that made him feel even more guilty. He couldn’t be thinking that anything between the two of you could happen. He needed to be a good man. But Christ, how even could a good man keep himself in check when he’s in such close quarters with you?

“Made mac and cheese with some grilled chicken if you’re hungry,” you say, not looking back at him but just immediately heading back down the hallway and down the stairs. He watched you walk away, biting his lip at how your ass looked in that denim. He gently hits his head against the mirror, like that’s somehow going to snap him out of it. He makes a fist and then stretches out his hands like that will do anything.

“Ms. Perry and Mrs. Sinclair cornered me outside Church today,” you said with a chuckle, as he came into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” he asks, taking the plate you hand to him. He opens up the drawer and grabs silverware for him and yourself while you put your plate together.

“Yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “I’m the talk of the town apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that, hun,” he says sympathetically, “That’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, walking over to your kitchen table and taking a seat. “I find them kind of funny,” you shrug, “They were talking about me long before this and this is just the newest thing.”

“What did they say?” he asks, as he takes his seat across from you. It was a small table, only was able to seat two comfortably, anymore would be too crowded.

“They think I should be using you as a ride to Church,” you reply, “Also that our situation ain’t fitting according to Ms. Beaumont. But they insisted they don’t think that at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins.

“I thought she was gonna ask me how much I’m charging you for rent next,” you scoff before taking a bit of food.

“Do they bother you?” he asks. He felt bad at how this living situation would affect you. He understood how much keeping up appearances mattered in this town. If someone were to start a nasty rumor, your name would be tarnish all over town. You might as well start wearing a big red A on your jacket.

“Not really,” you shrug. “It bothered me in the moment, cause they cornered me, but I have no reason to be worried. It’s not like anything they say is gonna amount to anything without evidence. They can insinuate all they want.”

The word evidence hung heavy on his mind. His brain running through scenarios if you both actually had something worth hiding. Kissing you in the backseat of the cruiser pulled into some back road by the water somewhere or sneaking touches under the table at the diner. It wouldn’t be wrong, not really, he thought to himself. You’re an adult and if you felt the same way fuck what the town would think.

You actually thought the Sheriff was quite handsome. You hadn’t really been able to look past how intimidating he looked sometimes or his gruff exterior. The man sitting across from you was not like the guy that makes the town cower away from him at times. He was relaxed, his face especially. It was a rare form for him. The man seemed to constantly be stressed, full of pent-up tension, no doubt due to the stress of his job. You noticed that his eyes looked softer, and how blue they were. Suddenly, you realized it was just you and him- alone. Living in your house. You felt your face heat up, and he picked up on your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you say, a little nervously. “Just need some water.”

You get up and head over to the cabinet next to the sink, and you reach up to get yourself a glass. Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, making you jump. He’s just reaching to get himself a glass too, his body pressing very lightly against you. He gives you a concerned look as you look flustered and you let out a small gasp.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, and you could almost swear you saw him smirking. He takes his glass over to the fridge and pours himself some of the iced-tea from the pitcher you keep inside the fridge.

“I think you’re right about Reverend Teagardin,” you say, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

“He’s no good,” Lee agreed. “He’s crooked. Just be careful around him, sweetheart.” Those damn pet names were making your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I think I’m too old to be on his radar,” you admit quietly, in a rushed tone. Your accusation hushed, even if it was just you and Lee.

“You see him do anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really,” you say, “but he talks for an awful long time to the high school aged girls after services. I don’t know it just gives me a gut feeling about him. Those poor girls, like Lenora- they don’t know when their being sweet talked and manipulated. Just makes me nervous. Married man talking to those girls so shamelessly- charming them.”

“I’ll try to swing by and check the place out,” he nods, looking a little lost in thought.

“That’ll make me feel so much better,” you smile. He grins and licks his lips, before taking a swig of his drink.

You both take a seat at the table again, finishing up dinner fairly quickly. You asked him about his day and he told you all about Miller and the papers, and you listened intently. You felt bad he had to go through that. Yeah, Lee was not a picture-perfect husband by any means, you were sure. But the actions he faced today still sounded harsh. Somewhere in your mind, you thought he deserved better. Maybe he didn’t, but the man was clearly in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Since you made dinner, I can clean up,” he offered.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lee,” you smile shyly. This all felt so… domestic. You were acting like a married couple. It’s not like the two of you could help it. You were living under the same roof and existing in the same space. This is how people who live together interact. That’s it. Right?

“I think I’ll call and leave a message at the donation center so they send someone to get those boxes tomorrow,” you decide. You head over to the living room where you kept your phone, pulling out your address book out of a drawer in the table the phone rested on. Lee nodded, taking your dishes and his own over to the sink.

You sit on the couch, criss cross and hold the base of the phone on one knee, resting the receiver up to your ear with your elbow. You dial the number, the phone clicking every time the dial falls back into place.

Lee can’t make out what you are saying, but he chuckles recognizing the tone of voice you use- like a customer service voice he’ll hear you pull out at the bar often. He does the dishes, and just lets himself escape into his fantasies again. His mind was racing about what those women at Church thought was happening between the two of you. He knows its wrong, but god he wishes it was real.

He imagines that after you both have gone to bed you show up at his door in the middle of the night- looking like how you did the night you agreed to let him stay. You confess how much you want him and he just pulls you into a rushed kiss- you just overtaken by the sudden relief of all the pent-up tension. He imagines how it would feel to hear little moans against his lips coming from you when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He can almost feel what it would be like to have you tightly against his body. His hands being allowed to just freely explore you and how you must look under him, begging and needy-

“Okay, that’s all set,” you announce walking back into the kitchen. “Hopefully they’ll send someone over first thing.”

“G-good, yeah,” he stutters out, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I go in at 4,” you reply, not noticing how flustered he is. He’s relieved to see you looking in the fridge and it gives him a chance to adjust before you saw how hard he was.

“Need a ride?” He asks. “I can pick you up on my way home.”

“Perfect,” you smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m gonna see if there is anything good on the television we can watch.”

“Sounds good, doll,” he says, relieved when she finally heads back into the other room, taking her seat on the couch again, clicking through the channels.

He needed a minute before heading in there. Every time you were in the room he felt like his skin was on fire. He knew if he wanted to stay, he needed to get a grip. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He joined you in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an old picture playing on the black and white set.

Neither of you could pay attention to the damn screen no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room- between the both of you was borderline unbearable. Both of you were stealing glances at the other, not realizing the other person was doing the same. When you would look over to him, his eyes would be toward the tv set, seeming to be watching the picture- but he also looked incredibly tense. You wondered if he was hanging out with you because he felt like he needed to. You feel awkward now thinking he’s just sitting though this to not be rude.

Lee was on the whole other side of the world in comparison to what you thought he was thinking about. He was trying desperately to gain some level of composure. He felt like he was acting like a teenager again, fucking jumping out of his skin sitting next to a pretty girl. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. An hour went by, neither of you saying anything- him just lost in his own thoughts. But then he felt your head hit his shoulder ever so lightly.

You had fallen asleep. He wondered how long you had been sleeping before he even realized. Here he was stressed out as ever and you are relaxed enough to fall asleep. He doesn’t even dare move. His whole body goes stiff, not wanting anything to wake you up. He wouldn’t move from this spot for all the money in the world. You were blissfully unaware at how you cuddled up next to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. You were going to be the death of him.

He very carefully wanted to just make himself a little more comfortable. He slowly moved the arm you had pinned and adjusted so it was wrapped around your shoulder. His fingertips just grazing your skin where the sleeve of your t-shirt ended lightly. Your skin was so soft, and he bites his lip, thinking about how soft you must feel everywhere. The man was so goddamn touched starved. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this close with Janie. It had to have been years since he experienced something this intimate. After a very long internal battle, he allowed himself to rest his head on top of yours and close his eyes for a few. He didn’t intend on falling asleep, just bask selfishly in the moment for a few minutes.

You opened your eyes and yawned softly. You looked at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes again, too tired to realize the position you were in at first. Then, a minute later you realized, and your eyes shot open again. Cuddled up to Lee’s side, his arm loosely around you. His head rested on the back of the couch, looking so peaceful.

Fuck. You were so embarrassed. You hoped he had fallen asleep first and would have no knowledge of this interaction in the morning. You carefully untangled yourself from him, moving as slow as possible to not wake him up.

You clicked off the TV and then turned off the lights, getting ready to retire up to your room for the night. You felt so hot, flushed with pure embarrassment. Your mouth was dry and the only thing you think about was cold water. You tip-toe into the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, drinking the whole thing at once. You turn off the kitchen light and leave your glass in the sick before heading upstairs.

You change out of your overalls and shirt and put on your blue nightgown. You head across the hall to the bathroom, navigating in the dark. You brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth before climbing into your bed and swaddling yourself with your many blankets. Your eyes are heavy, and the feeling of being in Lee’s arms is still present on your skin.

His large hands sliding up your thighs is what jolts you awake. His calloused hands moving their way up your body, pushing up your dress as they went. He dips down and presses a tantalizing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your cheek softly and the other rubbing over your wet panties. You kiss him back, opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. You can feel his hand slip under the waistband of your panties and his thumb gently rubs your clit. Without even questioning anything, you moan and he trails his lips down to your neck, and you shiver at the feeling of his stubble. You arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your fingers play with the ends of his short hair. He groans against your skin and the sound just sends a shiver throughout your whole body. You can feel him smile, and he pushes two fingers inside. You gasp and he muffles your sounds with another deep kiss. You feel overwhelmed by how good it feels combined with the terms of endearment that fall from his lips as he praises you.

The ringing of your alarm clock scares the shit out of you, and your eyes fly open at the sound. You’re breathing heavily, and you feel your hair sticking to your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh, and click off the alarm, and then cover your face with your pillow. You felt how wet you were without having to check. You had a sex dream about Lee. A fucking wet dream about Lee Bodecker.

Part Three

Taglist:

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#lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker #the devil all the time #lee bodecker smut #smut #angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan one shot #lee bodecker x y/n #sebastian stan smut #fanfic

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

Can we take a moment to talk about what a tragic character Minerva is? Y’all know that for the longest time I haven’t been the biggest fan of her, and honestly I’m still not? but I think I might’ve had a breakthrough on why that is.

Whenever I’ve asked around to see why people find her so appealing or why they consider her their favorite, I’ll get answers like, “she’s such a complex character and she deserved a redemption arc!” or “she should’ve come back to the school with us! Let Minnie be happy, you cowards! Telltale did her dirty! I could write paragraph after paragraph about her!” all sorts of things along those lines… but like, no one seems to want to actually talk about her. I find that interesting? Since when I do follow up with a “care to explain further?” I get nothing. Radio static. Like…. no, talk to me please, I just wanna understand-

Minerva within the context of TFS is such a tragedy. She grew up in a school for troubled youth where all the adults left them for death at the start of the breakout, they had walkers trying to eat the living all around them, and I’m sure she saw her fair share of traumatic violence and despair… but on the bright side, she always had her twin sister, Sophie, and little brother, Tenn. She had her friend and eventual girlfriend, Violet. She had music, and a dorm full of pretty paintings done by Sophie. She and Louis composed a song together to make everyone feel better. There are worse places to live than the school.

Then one day she got traded away to a bunch of raiders against her will, having no idea what the hell these people were gonna do to her and Sophie. They were made to be soldiers to fight in a war that had nothing to do with them. The delta fucking broke her. If we’re to believe Lilly’s story about the twins, they started their brainwashing process early on when Sophie was still alive, and it seems like Minerva was easier to control as Sophie was still planning a way out and causing trouble. Then, when Sophie convinced her to steal a boat and get the hell out, they got caught and the delta forced her to murder her own twin sister.

Like…. I’m sorry, not only did Minerva kill her own sister, but she was made to believe that was the right thing to do? That line she says about how she had to prove her loyalty to the place she calls home? That shit’s ingrained in her brain, you can tell that isn’t the first time she’s heard or said that very thing. That is what made her family to the delta. Delta is her home now, her family. Sophie was just a thing that needed to be dealt with. You keep your head down, do as you’re told, and you survive. You survive and you get to go home, eat a hot meal, take a shower, and be with your delta family. If not, you end up like Sophie.

What’s also fucked is that Minerva actually cares about these people now. Think about that. After everything they did to her and made her do, she’s been trained to see them as her family and obey. When you save Louis and he kills Dorian, Minerva actually cries out and is visibly hurt by her death. When she’s with the other raiders on land, she's screaming at walkers to get away from them. She cares about the people who made her kill Sophie… and no one ever talks about that??

She fucking hates Clementine. Clementine is just another thing in Minnie’s way. I know the part of the fandom likes to ship these two together and they think it’s hot when they fight and shit, but within the canon text, Minerva wants Clementine gone. Dead. She is the thing stopping her from having her old family merge with her new family. If Clementine hadn’t made them fight, they all would’ve been captured and they’d all be a delta family now. She would’ve had Tenn back.

Clementine is the problem, she made everyone fight back and that’s why people are dead. Minerva hates her for it… it’s not a “I hate you but like the sexual tension, y’know?” that I see people pretend it is, it’s “you are ruining everything and if I have to, I will kill you myself and I won’t give a second thought about it when they toss your body overboard.”

Like….. seriously, think about how fucked up all of this is. Minerva is a husk of who she was before she was taken away. Sure, you do have to keep in mind that when Tenn and Violet are describing her, their sights are a bit clouded, y’know? But I do believe that she was someone who was kind and cared about people, she wanted to make people feel safe and comforted.

Now she’s a brainwashed soldier who won’t help the people she used to call friends when they’re about to get limbs cut off. She won’t hesitate to knock someone unconscious or threaten a child. She’s willing to trick them into being captured with no regard for what’s going to happen to them. … all she knows is this was the mission, and now they all get to be together again back at the delta.

Then when she finds out there’s a bomb on the boat, she ditches Violet to blow up with it in order to make it to land herself. She loses her shit seeing everyone die and gets her face chewed off by a walker… and then she tries to blow Clementine and AJ up with a grenade.

Oh, and who can forget the fact that she tracks the group down with plans of murdering Tenn so that they can go to a better place together? And she’ll take down anyone who gets in her way?

Like….. jesus christ, Minerva’s waaaaay too far gone. It’s awful.

I think that’s what stumps me about why she’s so loved in the way that she is. It’s not that I don’t understand why she’s complex and well-written, I get that perfectly fine. She’s a compelling character study when you comb over all her scenes and take different factors into account.

What I don’t understand is why we tend to just throw everything interesting about her away? For what?

These days, I never see anyone talking about any of this unless they’re insisting she deserved a redemption arc which…. Eh, I’ll touch on this later. What I mostly see here and mostly other platforms is how great it would be if she and Clementine made out, or hey what if she and Violet got back together if she did come back to the school? Or they just….the best term I have for this is “uwu-ify.” As in she’s reduced to a caricature of a tall, pretty, mean, white lesbian who has “good damage.”

People insist that Telltale are cowards or bastards because their predictions of her turning on the delta to save Clem and crew didn’t happen. Instead, Minerva ends up being the final baddie you gotta get away from, and she ends up taking someone down with her. But did you really expect to just do a 180 and suddenly decide being brainwashed for over a year was lame and Clementine and friends are cool? Gonna help them out and be with Tenn again? Sure, there’s some left over trauma but love conquers and fixes everything, right?

Uh…. no? That’s not how people work? Honestly, if we entertain the idea that Minerva wasn’t bit and somehow didn’t murder Clementine when they all got back to the school…. romance is the last thing she is ever gonna think of??

I think that’s what bothers me most when reading these au’s and rants about redemption and the entire idea of clemerva as a whole. It’s the same thing that I see happen with Violet- Minerva only has value to fans if she’s in a wlw relationship. By herself, she doesn’t matter. They don’t care about her canon story, they don’t care about Sophie, they don’t care about discussing what could’ve happened if she and Tenn reunited under better circumstances or had a healing recovery together. But why?

Throwing a girlfriend at her isn’t some band aid that’s gonna cover up all the bad she went through?? Having an enemies to lovers romance with Clementine isn’t going to fix a years worth of brainwashing, trauma or the fact that she murdered her own sister and the delta told her she's proved her worth to them??

Having the support of those around her is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. The idea of the Ericson crew as a whole trying to help her out and do the best they can to accommodate her is bittersweet since there’s only so much they can do. They’re not trained therapists, which is what Minerva would need and plenty of years ahead of her to work through and come to terms with everything that happened as well as taking steps forward. I’m not saying that she shouldn’t have friends or that she couldn’t have a healthy romantic relationship someday... but that isn’t the solution, y’know?

I don’t know how else to explain this, but it makes me feel weird that all of this stuff is flat out overlooked or doesn’t appear to matter to fans of her.

Look, I get it. We all want these characters to be happy. AU’s are a thing, after all. Sometimes we want to forget about the bad things and focus on the good that bring us comfort. You wanna gush about the idea of an AU where the twins never got traded, the raiders didn’t exist, and Clementine got to meet them the way they were before? I feel that, AU’s are super comforting and fun to explore, and my point isn’t to try and shame anyone who has an AU you like this.

Hell, you think I don’t have days where I pretend mute Louis isn’t a thing because the whole concept of Louis having his tongue cut out of his mouth breaks my fucking heart? No, lot’s of days I just want to forget everything about that route, I want to set aside all the bad and just intake as much clouis fluff as I can get…. But that doesn’t mean I always ignore or refuse to acknowledge the bad just because I don’t like it. I fucking hate the fact that Louis loses his tongue when you don’t save him, but guess what? That’s a canon route you can play, just like any other route, and the possibilities that come with a mute Louis are vast and compelling.

This is how it is for me… my favorite characters are my favorite for a reason, and I take all the bad with the good. Louis isn’t perfect, and I don’t want him to be. I was to dive into his backstory about why did that to his parents, I like to talk about what he went through with Marlon’s murder and his feelings about AJ and Clementine at the point, I like to view his love of music as bittersweet. He can stand on his own, and while he is a love interest for Clementine, that isn’t his only purpose.

I know everyone’s different, they express their love for characters in their own ways, but I do have a genuine question: do you guys actually like Minerva?

Believe it or not, I’m not trying to step on toes or make everyone feel defensive which I know is how people will react to this. “You’re just saying all of this to make us feel bad for shipping clemerva! You don’t even like Minnie so you don’t get to say shit!” yeah yeah, I hear you and look, it’s true that she’s not my favorite character. I know I’ve said I hate her in the past but upon reflection and throwing out fandom interpretations.... I don’t hate her. I get it now. She’s a great character study to dissect and analyze and I think she deserves more than what the writers and the fandom have given her.

And yeah, what I do hate is clemerva, and I’ve explained why. It’s not for me, it makes me uncomfortable, but at the end of the day, who cares? Me not liking it doesn’t mean anything to those who create AU’s for them. They have their reasons, they can do as they please as long as they’re not hurting anyone. I’m just here pointing out things I see and things that bother me in hopes of starting a discussion.

There’s my ramble about Minerva. I’m gonna go make some tea now.

#twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg sophie #twdg tenn #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg lilly #twdg aj #twdg

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions once said :"If you can imagine your Batman comforting a shared child, then congratulations, you're righting Batman. If not, you're just writing the Punisher in a funny hat". This got me wondering: could the Shadow comfort a scared child?

Could he? You forget who was there to lift young Bruce to his feet at his first brush with death (sadly far from his last).

But it's an interesting question to pose still, because children were straight up not in the pulps, not in any I've read, and I can't recall any episodes of the radio show that feature them much (there's gotta be at least a few, because they had everything in that show). The most interaction I think The Shadow's ever had with children (from comics that I can discuss here, because Marshall Rogers' "Harold Goes to Washington" is way, way too much for me to go into right now, and the less I talk about some other DC comics, the better) is in the Street & Smith comics.

There's Jerry from the Devil Kyoti arc, a kid who was traumatized by an encounter with the villain who Sayre's looking after and who ends up having some kind of hidden power that allows him to see The Shadow and defeat the villain. There was a blonde Jerry who showed up later in the Monstradamus arc, but he isn't a kid so much as he's diet Jimmy Olsen or a replacement for Harry, but he had weird eyesight-based powers and a familiarity with The Shadow, so I assume it's the same character.

There was also Donald Jordan - Shadow Jr, and okay, I may have to talk more about this weird little failed experiment some other time, but the basic gist of it is that The Shadow had a friend in Tibet named Harry Jordan (and someday I'm also gonna write about the weird prevalence and significance of the name "Harry" in The Shadow's mythos in and out of universe) who was murdered, leaving his son orphaned and with nowhere to go. And, I'll admit that I have a real weakness for The Shadow calling people "son", which he does a lot in this story.

And as you can expect, it then turns out that the kid's also learned how to cloud minds and has basically the same powers The Shadow has in these comics, and they solve the mystery of his dad's murder together, and yeah, you can absolutely tell that they are setting up this kid to be The Shadow's Robin. Although, interestingly, they don't have The Shadow actually recruit the kid, instead it's Jordan who asks The Shadow if he can go with him and join his mission, and Cranston even states he's going to have to "earn" his way

"Must I stay here, sir? It will always remind me of dad - I'd like to devote my life to your fight against evil and evil doers!

Now, "Shadow Jr's" career was incredibly short-lived, it only lasted for about two other issues, and I have no idea what happened in his final appearence called "Snake Eyes" in Shadow Comics #77, I cannot find that issue anywhere and I really want to. But the one other solo story of his I've read was...well, I think it kinda illustrates why the idea of The Shadow having a Robin was doomed from the start.

...Yeah. Even The Shadow at his most sanitized and family friendly is still The Shadow, and there's no room for children in his network, obviously he shouldn't and wouldn't have children be in those positions or make decisions expected from grown-ups who have already had encounters with death and danger, why would anyone do that-

The only instance I can think of The Shadow interacting with a child in the pulps was during The Prince of Evil, when he has to rescue a young boy from Stark's thugs.

Cranston, dazed, tried to stagger to his feet. Before he could do so, the thug had picked up the limp figure of the boy and was darting out into the street. There was a scream of horror from pedestrians.

A heavy truck was racing at top speed along the avenue. Straight into the path of the truck, the thug threw the senseless boy!

The driver of the truck jammed on the brakes. But it was too late to halt the heavy vehicle. The broad-tired wheels rolled toward the limp head of the lad on the pavement.

An instant before it could crush out his life, Lamont Cranston dived headlong into the path of destruction. His shoulder struck the boy, rolling him toward the curb. A quick wriggle, and Cranston swerved aside from the grinding death that loomed over him.

He picked up the boy. One glance and he knew there was no time to lose. The attempted killer had leaped into a waiting sedan and had already made his escape.

The boy was all Cranston could see or think about. Brass knuckles had fractured his skull. He had suffered a concussion of the brain. A glance at his bluish lips and the fixed glaze of his staring eyes told Cranston that unless the boy was operated on immediately, he would die.

A leap, Cranston was in his car. He laid the boy gently on the seat beside him, then headed the car toward the nearest hospital. Traffic lights were ignored.

The boy was taken to an emergency operating room and a skilled surgeon went to work. When it was over, Cranston asked only one question: "Will the child live?"

"Hard to say. We'll do our best."

"Spare no expense. Put him in a private room. Engage day and night nurses."

Cranston's face was pale. He knew that he himself was indirectly responsible for the boy's attack. A supercriminal had made a prompt answer to Cranston's message over Jackson's telephone. That telephone must have been tapped. The attempt to kill the boy was a vicious warning for Lamont Cranston to mind his own business about the Harmon family. It was a follow-up of the attack on Jackson's dog.

Cranston felt a surge of hot anger. He kept it under control while he answered routine police questions. He told all he knew - which was nothing.

He had only one angry thought. He intended to drive straight to the office of David Chester. He'd get the truth out of the sleek Chester, if he had to batter him with vengeful fists!

Cranston was actually halfway to Chester's office before common sense returned to him. He realized he had lost his sense of balance. He was behaving exactly as the crooks wanted. He was playing their game, not his!

He parked, and the hot rage drained slowly from him. He stopped thinking about the limp figure of a young lad on a white operating table.

This is definitely because Tinsley writes the character differently than Gibson, but I actually cannot think of another occasion where we got to read about The Shadow actively wanting to hit someone with his fists. It's very, very rare to read about The Shadow actually getting mad in the first place in such an undignified way. And I think with this passage, you'll start to notice a pattern.

The problem isn't that The Shadow cannot interact with kids or that he can't comfort them, he does it to his agents and adults he wants to help just fine, he knows how to address people in their language, or any language. The problem is, The Shadow is constantly surrounded by danger everywhere he goes, because he is The Shadow. He can be any number of things at any number of occasions, but usually, when The Shadow shows up, it's usually because people are going to die, and people are going to kill, and it's his job to address that and work the scales.

Children should not be anywhere near this, and if The Shadow's interacting with a child, it usually means that some grave danger or tragedy fell upon them, and he's here to either prevent greater tragedy or address the fall-out, and he'd be the first to agree that neither of these options should be happening at all. It doesn't mean he's not gonna do what's right and give life and limb to protect them, but, it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to look after them in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to protect us.

But then again, as I mentioned when I talked about my own reasons for liking The Shadow so much, there are many kids who would like nothing more than to have the Boogeyman by their side to protect them. There's comfort in knowing that the scariest man in the room is unconditionally there to protect you, and that is the comfort that The Shadow gives best. Not as Cranston, not under a friendly face, but as what he is.

Due to a lack of scenes from the pulps or satisfying scenes from elsewhere, I will instead be pulling one from a fan story written by Kimberly-Murphy Smith, editor and writer of The Hot Cornerm where The Shadow rescues a child who was kidnapped for blackmail. I couldn't care less that it's fanfic, and if you do, come back in 20 or so years after The Shadow's been made public domain and it's gonna be just as official as anything licensed (on my “to write about” list: how fickle the separation between “official” and “fanfic” is, and the many times it plainly didn’t exist). There’s aspects of her writing I don’t care for, but I really like this scene and I do think The Shadow’s more gentle interactions with people are necessary to getting the character.

Annabelle.

She stopped crying for a minute. "Who's there?" she said, her voice choked.

A friend. Your mommy and daddy sent me to pick you up.

"Mommy? Mommy's here?"

Sh-h-h. Annabelle felt a gloved hand gently stroking her hair. She's waiting for you at home. So, we need to hurry up and leave.

"'kay." She looked around. "Where are you?"

It's kind of hard to see me. It's dark in here, plus you've been crying so much your eyes probably hurt.

"Yeah."

Don't be afraid. I'm here to help.

"'kay."

The implicit trust of children was simply amazing at times. Adults trembled in fear of The Shadow's wrath, but children somehow seemed to understand that he was there to help them, even if they couldn't see him.

Sit up, Annabelle. I'm going to pick you up. Be very quiet.

One hand took each of her arms and guided them around a neck she could not see. "Why are you wearin' a blanket?" she asked as the fabric of his cloak brushed against her shoulders.

Sometimes I get cold at night.

"Even in the summer?"

Even in the summer. He gently stroked her cheek and wiped away her tears. Now, you need to be very quiet so those bad men in the next room don't hear us. I'll bet you're tired.

She nodded.

He rocked her on his arms, projecting a very gentle hypnotic relaxation into her with his powers as he did. You probably didn't get your nap, either. Poor thing. Lean on my shoulder and go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll be back with Mommy and Daddy.

She yawned, then snuggled against his shoulder and went to sleep.

The Shadow sighed with relief. Now to get past the men out front. He gently pulled the pistol out of its holster under his left arm and slipped it into the belted waist of his overcoat within easy reach, then secured his grip on Annabelle and draped his cloak over her.

She clutched the edge of his cloak in her hand like a security blanket and snuggled against his shoulder again.

(Art by Jill Thompson)

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #fanfic #I think about the -Sometimes I get cold at night- response a lot #and how superhero capes can easily be likened to oversized blankets #and The Shadow is one of the main reasons why capes became so popular among American heroes #seriously you can see how practically overnight so many heroes at the time imitating The Shadow acquired capes #and what is a hero if not a childhood fantasy manifest #they are all just wearing blankets to battle #I think my posts are turning into too much of rollercoasters

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reimahowaido · 2 years

Text

Alternate story roads for Dread, anyone~?

Alrighty, working on my writings again now that I've managed to get to credits on PLA But to dabble right back onto the writing fandom: let's have some speculative Fun 'what if's for Metroid

This is gonna be LONG (over 3k words long for this whole post). You know me~ So, get yourself a drink and get comfy I guess? I'll try to split it into sections of some sort

The main subreddit (oh boy I should make an account there shouldn't I. .... mmm eh, someday) has apparently called off the need to spoiler stuff, but imma still include that warning here, because boy will I spoil stuff for this.

So, SPOILERS for Metroid Dread ahead!

Ok! So. Alternative things are always fun. I'm basing this on some old bit of 'oh lord oh boy' stuff I scribbled up some months ago. But here's some cleaner takes on it

- For a moment, imagine if Quiet Robe didn't have to die where he did. That he lived past that point, and played a bit bigger of a role overall other than being a fantastic man and giving us enlightening lore bits. Or, well, at least think of him as living through the robot encounter - Samus has good enough reflexes, notices the suspicious Robot Chozo and grabs Quiet Robe so he doesn't get shot - this way we still get to fight the robot, but QR is spared

- A little slight bit less pissed of Samus and a living QR is our result of this. QR would have known that speaking about things would put him on the bad side of Raven Beak pretty automatically, so destroying one of his 'precious soldier replacements' doesn't change his position, since it's already on the negatives

- We love our good boy. Of course we'd like to see him live! And wouldn't it be fun if instead of "ADAM" talking to you through the comms, it'd be Quiet Robe instead? He'd certainly have some insight on stuff. Perhaps he'd even be able to inform Samus about Elun. Of course, you'd still need to go retrieve Plasma Beam to progress - unless QR would have some tech that'd help you with that, meaning you don't need to actually go to Elun (which would be the absolute best case scenario, I'll get to that and the Why This Is The Case a bit later)

~~~ 2 ~~~

- So, throughout the rest of your journey you'd be chatting up with QR. Of course, this is kinda where things have other possibilities. Raven Beak will of course still want QR dead, now more than ever since he's actually actively ruining his plans and getting on his way. No longer a passive onlooker, this would prove very troubling indeed. Both QR & RB are smart, and who knows how long they've spent on ZDR with just the two of them. RB would be able to come up with more plans, ways and methods to try and still get Samus' DNA, to guide her according to His plans. But QR has known of this plan for a good while too, he's helped to put it to motion afterall

- So, it's likely that to RB's irritation, QR could further agitate him by being able to predict and read what RB has and is planning and would be able to guide Samus past anything RB tries to set up - or at least warn her about them up front. Certainly it'd lessen the fun of discovering mysteries and all that, so they'd have to go about it in some ways to still keep things fun for the player if this turn of events was the case in gameplay. One of my personal headcanons is that QR hasn't been allowed to explore the planet on his own. He only has certain paths he's allowed to take and specific areas he can work at = he wouldn't know of every corner and location of things. He'd have heard of stuff from other Mawkin when they were still alive and about, but these tales and stories of other areas like Ghavoran and Cataris are pretty much purely based on what he's heard and been told. And of course he'd tell Samus what he can

- QR really has nothing to hide from Samus - other than maybe her relation to RB if he knows of the DNA donation. Who knows how Samus would react to getting to know that afterall. She might and will still be pissed about what happened on SR388, so she'd want to beat RB up. But she's just a slight bit less pissed because QR is alive. Still very uncool from RB to try and assassinate QR, but at least in this alternate take that attempt failed

~~~ 3 ~~~

- To jump back to some gameplay stuff. They sure did put a lot of emphasis on the E.M.M.I. units in preparation for Dread's release. So it'd be a bit of a shame and a cop-out for them to just be out of order from now on. A twist for sure, that they'd only be a small faction of the game and then not even be relevant after the halfway point. But what's the fun in that?

- Which means we'll have to bring them back somehow, right? What I propose, is the funky fun stuff of 'QR is pretty much in charge of the E.M.M.I. anyway, so who's to say he couldn't be able to control them in other ways than just switching them on and off'. Yeah they're set to hunt down Samus, but we don't see wildlife/other creatures in E.M.M.I. zones until you've blown up the E.M.M.I. = There's a good chance the E.M.M.I. will still annihilate any and all beings that make noise and move about. Which leads me to this: RB would be short on ways to interact with Samus since QR is doing his darnest to prevent it. What does RB have though? He has the robots, and we know he sends several of them after Samus throughout Dread. Those of you who hate fighting them, rejoice, because now there's a fudge ton more of them! Yaaaay! Absolutely amazing. Perhaps there's even more variants of them now since they've just gotten a promotion. Ones that look, act and are built closer to the infected Chozo Soldiers you fight after Elun, hmm?

- Ok ok. So. Now there's More Robot Chozo Soldiers. Brilliant. The increase in activity outside of just Samus ought to be noticeable by QR, and he'll have to have a bit of a chat with Samus. Of course the E.M.M.I. are still not friends of her, but within their zones (if not even outside of them?) QR could reactivate them to deal with the Robots. This now means that while you could get ambushed by a Robot outside of the zones (some are likely weaker than the miniboss variants, just there to be an additional enemy that simply doesn't respawn just like the other critters), you'd not be ambushed by them within the E.M.M.I. zones. E.M.M.I. zones are still dangerous because of, well, the E.M.M.I., but this time they're the more 'safe' zones so to speak. Dunno if there'd be jumpscares with the robots, or semi-scripted encounters, just More - but I'm sure people who get scared easily would just, celebrate jumpscares. Enjoy~

- Also who is to say a Robot Chozo Soldier wouldn't rarely be able to get in the E.M.M.I. zone at the exact same time as Samus does. Maybe once or twice. So have fun running away from both or trying to fight a robot while you're also running away from an E.M.M.I.. There's no guarantee that QR can turn off every single E.M.M.I. just as quickly as he does with the Purple one in Ferenia - aka literally next door to where he himself & the control panels for them are located. There could be a delay, so you'd not get help if an E.M.M.I. catches you (or maybe you get more time to counter than previously, but you still need to hit the timing. Pick whichever option you prefer, aid or no aid)

- Another fun thing with the E.M.M.I. that we need to consider is the fact Samus gets abilities from them. QR probably can't just give them to Samus, he wouldn't have the time to work on her suit along with how ever long it might take to gather things for the abilities - I'd assume resources are scarce. So you'd be faced with the choice of destroying the E.M.M.I. for their abilities, or leave them be so you’d have some place where you couldn’t be randomly ambushed (you can hear when an E.M.M.I. is in the same room). You'd have 'less safety' in a way, meaning you'd face the robots more often and perhaps new stronger types of them too - but you'd have new abilities to deal with them + you can take shortcuts now with these new abilities, so progress is faster and there's more options on where to go now. Amount of exploration on a balance board. Either just find hidden ways to progress in or go a more straightforward way while also gaining more new areas to explore. Dunno if destroying all E.M.M.I. would be required in the end, or if you'd be able to make it without doing that. Adds to replayability potentially

~~~ 4 ~~~

- Now then, back to QR. There's probably one pretty glaring thing you might have thought of by now. He survived an assassination, but where is he now? Still the same room? Is he safe? He might be attacked at any moment so probably not that safe. It'd certainly be something to have QR travel with Samus, but I'd imagine the amazingly fast-paced gameplay would suffer from escort missions. I love QR a lot, but it's pretty much a given that he's not going to be as nimble or agile as Samus. I can't. Imagine old man QR. Just. Doing flips after Samus. His bones. The precious boy is going to break his back, and legs, and every other bone. Nope. Samus would have to carry him I'd say, to get from a safe room to another. Restricts your movement, but at least you aren't waiting on him to catch up

- Still, I'd imagine it'd be more realistic for QR to stay in his room rather than getting outside of it. Obviously there's a pretty clear downside to this. It's very likely he doesn't have a way to defend himself there. He could though, maybe there's some stuff he has done and he can lock the place up? But let's be honest, that robot soldier got in there, they're gonna get in there again. Meaning that QR is likely on a timer and not exactly in a good spot. Who knows at what point in the story he'd just end up dying regardless of having survived the first encounter. Samus can't stay there forever, she needs to get out and she said she'd finish this once and for all afterall. It's a bitter thing, but with a high % the most likely outcome

- Besides, I feel QR has already resigned to his fate. He's got survivor's guilt, he has helped RB do all sorts of things that are likely not exactly that great - like the whole 'Make E.M.M.I. hunt Samus' thing - so high possibility on him being ashamed of what he's done. And giving his life to assist Samus could be a way to pay for his deeds in his mind

- Samus isn't going to be happy about this. She does understand sacrifices to a very personal level though. She's witnessed them several times now, and has even suggested sacrificing herself in Fusion. Who knows how she'd take this. She could prevent this, it could come full circle from her trying to prevent a sacrifice (Ian), to letting it happen - although begrudgingly (Adam), to trying to sacrifice herself and being convinced of an alternate way, to now taking AI Adam's place and convincing that a sacrifice in this case could be avoided. Or she could take Adam's place in the flashback with sacrificing another for the sake of the many (though teeeeeechnically she already supposedly did that with letting Adam go with the 'unfreezable Metroids' but hey). Either way, choices, possibilities, development. All the more fun if both are options for replayability - but a nightmare for those making the game and good lord what would even be canon at this point. The lore has turned into spaghetti. What is this, Zelda? (Don't ask me I don't actually know Zelda lore, I only know there's like multiple timelines or something?)

~~~ 5 ~~~

- Back on track! Remember Elun? Remember our fun jelly gummy parasite friends? Of course you do. You absorb your vitamins through your powersuit you absolute chad. - Now, here's the writing bit that started this all.

{{ Freaking... Imagine if QR wasn't dead yet by the time the X were released. Instead of the "... Goddamn it..." kinda reaction Samus has, do ya think she'd have more of an "... Oh FUCK." kinda reaction? And suddenly the 'sad/creepy' cutscene where the red X takes over QR's corpse becomes a whole lot more terrifying and worse. Would they reach him easily? Would it be just the X? Or would it be the wildlife? Would he be torn to shreds or perhaps he'd have a safe room built in case of an outbreak? Would Samus run right back to try and save him? Might they try and make a vaccine? Would that have been an alternate sinister way of getting Samus to give her Metroid DNA to them willingly? QR obviously would not want it. He'd probably rather perish than give RB what he wants - likely so at least, he's not exactly a fan of the stuff they're doing, but more over QR is worried about Samus and doesn't want to harm her in any way. But just imagine the scenario, RB offering Samus a choice: Dead/Infected QR or her Metroid DNA. And even then there's multiple paths the story could have gone in. Gotta love speculating, right? }}

- Ok so that's probably a lot to take in. Lemme break it up for you. So firstly, if QR has managed to live this far, are we just going to end up loosing him, again, but this time instead of a swift death, it's possession instead. He's gonna lose his mind, his free will. Will he be scared? Try to run? Or would he have been prepared and made his peace with it. The X started it all, it might as well end him and he's fine with that. It goes against him not wanting to hurt Samus, but you can't be perfect. Witness her scrambling to try and save him, and be absolutely broken. Will you make it in time? Will you outrun the ridiculously fast spreading X Parasites? What if you're too late? Do you have to kill him now? Just like you killed that scientist in Fusion? Is the game going to make you fight our precious boy? QR boss fight?

- Or will the room be empty? Previously you could return here to have a more direct chat and exchange with QR whenever, but now the place is just dead and empty - perhaps there's a rampaging creature here, but no QR in sight. You're made to wonder what happened. This would kinda allow the end of the game to play as it does in Dread already

- If he does somehow manage to survive and makes it out without getting infected, and Also avoids death by any other manner and makes it to Samus' ship in one piece and all that.. Pretty much impossible, but this would be the 'happy ending' kinda deal. Realistic? Not really. But if you wanna dream I won't stop you. Boy I can't even stop myself. I Want this, but I know we ain't getting it. Besides, who is to say he'd end up living even in this situation? If Metroid Samus shows up, you bet QR is gonna let/make her absorb him to be able to regain control with the extra Thoha genes. And Boom, more emotional damage for Samus. Yeah maybe QR could steer the ship, take off as Samus is still trying to figure stuff out, but we're really twisting things here to try and get the best possible ending

~~~ 6 ~~~

- And now for that other bit, it being yet another plan RB crafted up. Man's got backup plans a plenty that he can come up with on the spot. If QR's life means nothing and he's just a pawn among the rest, and he sees Samus can be emotionally manipulated (assuming that's possible, she's pretty hardened by now), that means this pawn just promoted to play a more important role on his board. If he can't use force, and the 'awaken your inner Metroid' doesn't work quickly enough to RB's liking, he could threaten Samus & QR with Elun. RB is smart, he's been steering Samus with fake Adam so far, so clearly he's got some mindgame experience to him. QR wouldn’t want to let RB have anything, but Samus would have to weigh an ally’s life on this decision. And that’s kinda cruel. They’d either have to talk it out or rush stuff

- Raven Beak though? Yeah he's absolutely disrespecting all his fallen Mawkin brethren by just undoing the seal - QR will handily point this out to him - but it's about pride and desire now, and you should know better than to doubt the iron will of a man ready to sacrifice his own and a whole separate tribe for a cause. He's got all the pieces he needs, and he's gonna use them. Feeling guilty? Don't know her. He's gonna run his plan through, one way or another

- Main threat here is that while Samus is immune to the X, QR is not. RB is ready to take risks and gamble, but currently he's pretty cozy and safe away from the threat of X. In fact, he could just blow up the whole place right now and leave. Yeah if he'd do that he'd have to scrap the whole Metroid plan - which obviously isn't happening. But Samus and everyone else would lose if she'd die here & she said she'd finish this once and for all - and we gotta assume that that doesn't involve her losing

- All of this is obviously hanging on the fact that they'd be able to make another vaccine in the first place - one that would work and not just go crazy like it should have had it not been for Samus' unique DNA zoo. QR is a Thoha so there's probably a chance it'd work even better? Or not be quite enough. Perhaps they'd need a pure Metroid for the vaccine, but really, they make Metroids out of exploded particles cleaned off suit surfaces, they can pretty much go ham

- And yeah it's going to potentially fall apart if RB needs for someone else to go to Elun and can't actually remotely unseal it in the first place. But even there he does have his robots. If it has to be a scannable person then he oop, but these are just ways of looking into it deeper. Surely if this scenario would be the one to go with he'd have a working method (outside of "I'll go myself and then turn into 'fast as frick boi' as I, the mighty Raven Beak, depart the section faster than the X can". Dude can Shine Spark without much set-up and get fancy with it and Flash Shift, and the ego to believe)

So yeah : ) Those are some thoughts I've been rolling in my head. Hopefully you had a time reading 'em all~ It's a lot, but sometimes you wanna read all you can

Anyway, I'll get back to writing stuff following canon lore, with extra spice but mostly still keeping it to what I could see as 'this is how the story went' kinda take on events (If you wanna write your own 'what if' takes and alternate storylines, boy I'd love to read them <3 Hit me up if you do~)

#Metroid #Metroid Dread #Metroid Dread Spoilers #And Plenty of alternate takes #Quiet Robe #Raven Beak #Yeah he's in here too though it's mostly about the goodest boi Quiet Robe #Text #A lot of it #God I wrote this for like 4 hours #But at least I finally wrote it #It's been in my mind for a whiiiiile #I have a lot of thoughts #Whether those thoughts are good? No-one can really judge. We just tolerate #Am vibin' at 3:30am #Is this a 'save the animals' take? Maybe #Should I put this on Ao3 #Should I?

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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kimistorm · 3 years

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My Heart Gone Missing [Chapter 4]

Fandom: Studio Ghibli (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Pairing: Friendship! Howl x GN! Reader

Warnings: None

Masterlist

“Marius I’m going out!” you called out to the water demon in the corner of the room, “do you need anything?” slung easily around your shoulder was a simple backpack, a clear sign that you were going to get something, considering how empty it was.

“Where’s ‘out’?” Marius asked forlornly.

You sighed at Marius’ depressing aura, “I’m going to town to get food. Now is there something you need?”

“I need you to take your soul back and free me from this curse.” Marius replied.

You sighed and adjusted the bag, “anything serious?”

“Why do you-”

“Okay bye Marius!” you didn’t bother to listen to the rest of his sentence before you flung open the door and left your house into town. You walked around the town and looked at the food stalls and thought about what you could make. “Well, I could always get some chinese take out.” You laughed quietly to yourself before you picked up a bright red tomato.

You quickly finished your shopping and began to wander around the town that your portal had led to. As you wandered around the town, you noticed a quaint looking shop nestled in the wall, “huh. ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’.” You read aloud the painted words above the door. “Well, may as well check it out.” You gave a few knocks on the weathered wood door.

“Hello, how can I help you.” The door swung open and you had to look down to notice the small bearded man.

“Oh.” You carefully looked at the hooded man, “you’re not Jenkins, are you?” you said slowly.

“Why? What do you need?” he asked gruffly.

“Uh, nothing.” You slowly backed away from the building and the stunted man, “I can see you’re busy. So, bye.” You waved before you hurried down the street. “Why on earth was a little kid pretending to be an old man?” you talked to yourself. “Unless he really is Jenkins.” You shook your head, “no, that doesn’t make sense, he’s just a kid, who has a strong sense of magic already.” You muttered quietly. “Agh!” you screamed out suddenly, attracting the attention of some innocent passerbys, “why does nothing ever make sense around here!” you then proceeded to storm off to the small house that your portal resided in.

“Oh, you’re home.” Marius said when you closed the door behind you.

“How can a kid have such a strong sense of magic that he can create a disguise out of thin air?” you shoved your face into the water demon’s face as you demanded your question.

“Woah woah woah, I never said I was going to help you! You’re awful! Why would I help you!” Marius replied snarkily as he shrunk back in his bowl.

“Because you’re going to be living with me.” You answered sharply as you turned around and slammed your bag down onto the countertop in the kitchen.

“Oh, is somebody jealous that a child has a stronger sense of magic than you?” Marius teased as he looked excitedly at you.

“He definitely is not stronger than me.” You said vigorously as you placed food into the refrigerator with more force than necessary, “he just doesn’t go to the academy and yet he still can use magic!” you slammed the door shut for the refrigerator.

“Well, maybe he’s got an apprenticeship or something, that’s not too unusual.” Marius shrugged as he leaned back into his bowl. Any source of entertainment that you were providing to him was long gone.

“He probably did!” you yelled out excitedly as you slammed your hands down on the countertop. You then winced and took your hands off of the countertop. “He worked at the shop of ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’! That explains so much!” you said excitedly. “And here I imagined ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’ as an old man who disliked children and like loneliness.”

“Sounds like you.” Marius called out from the corner.

“Shall I give you a rock?” you threatened in return.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Rocks are terrible, horrible creatures who just want to see the world crash and burn!” Marius yelled back in a fury as he waved his fists around.

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes and threw your bag down on an empty chair before turning the dial to point at the second color. “I’m going out.”

“Again?” Marius whined, “shouldn’t you be figuring out how to get your soul content?”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.”

“I’m getting inspiration.” You explained, “not like you would know how to make people happy.”

“Of course I don’t! I’m a water demon! I’m only happy with myself! I don’t care about people!” Marius yelled furiously after you.

“Stop yelling, you’ll lose your voice someday.” You called back to him before you opened your door to exit the house. You shut the door behind you when you heard Marius shout angrily at you. Probably something along the lines of ‘you’re awful’.

Outside the small house the Waste blew around you peacefully. The lake where you had first met Marius was easily less than five minutes away by walking. The air blowing around you was crisp and cool. Not at all like what you would think of when you heard ‘waste’. It was clear like the countryside that was miles away from any sort of civilization. The sun was shining brightly, which cast a comfortable blanket of warmth on everything it touched. “Marius, I’m sure you’d love it out here!” you yelled back to the house to spite Marius.

You laughed happily as you ran through the rolling waves of grass and then fell back into it. “Perhaps this is all I wanted for.” You muttered to yourself as the grass around you gently tickled you. “I don’t think I ever had a chance to truly appreciate the Waste.” You set your gaze upwards and saw the small figure of something flying, and it wasn’t a battleship. “What is that?” you sat up in the grass and watched the black figure. Upon closer inspection you noticed that it was a bird...but with a man’s head. “That’s what I want.” You nodded to yourself as the figure flew above your. “I’ll turn into a bird.”

You stood up before you ran back into your little house. “Marius!” you called out.

“Did you get your inspiration?” Marius asked sullenly.

“Do you know how to turn into a bird?”

“A what?”

Taglist: @pogpixelz

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sineala · 3 years

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The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.

#posts i actually wrote

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 3 years

Note

harrisco 12.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! -QD

* * *

It was nearly two a.m. by the time everyone began to leave the West's house, the Christmas party fully wound down and people exhausted from the frivolity. Harry had never really been much for parties of any sort before getting close to Team Flash. And normally, he'd been able to weedle his way out of them. Claim he was content on his own, or tired, or busy. None of which anyone really believed, but they also knew how stubborn he was.

The problem there was Cisco Ramon could be just as stubborn at times.

This time, he'd practically shoved an ugly Christmas sweater into Harry's face and demanded that he get off his 'tall-dark-and-brooding ass' and get moving. When Harry barely budged, he then informed him he'd hidden Harry's pulse rifle and was not ever giving it back unless he came.

The result was Harry begrudgingly wearing a very colorful and festive sweater with a depiction of Grumpy Cat in a Santa hat, and following... well, grumpily... along.

He never counted on enjoying these things.

It always surprised him when he did.

Watching Caitlin and Barry sing on the pint-sized karaoke machine, the lady Snow half buzzed off of spiked egg nog, had been a small delight. During dinner, Iris ended up inhaling a bit of too-spicy apple cider and flipped a spoonful of pumpkin pie at Joe's face during her coughing fit, which had Harry chuckling before he could stop himself. And at one point, he even let himself enjoy a badly played game of charades with everyone.

Though the highlight of the entire evening, start to finish, was Ramon.

The man was effortless in his joy and happiness tonight. It oozed off him, sinking into everyone around him. And for some reason, he seemed to be doubling down his efforts on getting it to latch on to Harry. Not that Harry would complain in the least. A slightly clingy, pushy, somewhat buzzed and completely glee-ridden Cisco Ramon was a gift in itself.

The easy bickering between them flourished with each passing hour, till they'd been practically in tune with each other's words in a way that only they ever seemed to accomplish. Cisco spent a great deal of time sitting right next to Harry, lined up side by side like he was trying to steal Harry's warmth. Or maybe his soul. It was hard to tell. And Cisco would touch him a little more than usual.

There had always been this thing between them. Nothing Harry could ever put a name to, nothing he could accurately describe. It hung in the air like a promise... like a piece of mistletoe, just waiting for one of them to make a decision.

And after tonight, it was very clear to Harry now what decision he would make. If he trusted himself enough. Truth was, he'd fallen for Cisco Ramon a long time ago. But he would never allow himself to tell the other man. It wasn't the idea of rejection, or even of losing their friendship. It was the idea that he could ever hurt Cisco. And he knew he could. His temper, his past, his... everything. He wasn't an ideal partner, not for anyone. He was better off alone. And Cisco was better being with literally anyone else. Or so Harry tried to convince himself.

Tonight, it was a little bit harder to feed himself his own lie.

They'd been walking for nearly ten minutes, Harry's hand hooked easily into Cisco's arm to keep him from slipping all over the place. It had snowed that morning. Nothing heavy. But the ground was wet and slushy and Cisco was one or two more drinks away from being drunk. He was also tired, Harry could tell. By the heavy way his eyes blinked, and how he would breathe in deeply every now and then just to let the cold air wake him enough to keep walking.

Cisco could have taken a cab, but had insisted on needing the fresh air. Harry hadn't been about to let him walk alone.

"You're glad you came tonight." Cisco said as they got to a crosswalk, looking up at Harry. Ramon's cheeks were slightly flushed, steam billowing out from between his plush lips into the cold air, his hair somehow still perfectly in place, his scarf haphazardly wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He looked... delightful. He looked like a dream.

He was a dream.

"You're assuming." Harry forced himself to say. Cisco chuckled and began walking again.

"Don't think I didn't see you, Harry. You can't deny how much fun you actually had. I was watching you the whole time." Cisco's comment made Harry raise a brow, slow his steps once they got to the other sidewalk. Cisco paused as well, both men stopping. But Ramon was looking at him with curiosity.

"What were you doing watching me?" He asked pointedly. Ramon's brows slowly went up. And the flush in his cheeks got even redder almost instantly.

"I, well... ya know. You..." He stopped talking, something thoughtful passing over his features. Harry couldn't help but stare right now, at the sparkling in Cisco's beautifully dark eyes, at the way he focused on Harry's own hues. It took Harry's breath away, like it almost always did. And he almost always could hide it. But something passed over Ramon's features, a look, a knowing. "What are we doing?" He suddenly asked. The question made Harry's brows furrow lightly.

"We're talking?" Question for a question.

"No duh, Harry." There was a soft dusting of humor in Cisco's eyes. "I mean... all the time. You and me. We're... close. Not just friend or colleague close. Closer than that. And I feel like we're getting closer every day." He stepped right into Harry, reaching up and tugging Harry's coat lapel a little flatter. "But we're always dancing around each other, ya know?" His words made Harry's heart stutter, flare, and ache all at the same time. But Cisco couldn't be saying what Harry thought he was saying. It just... wasn't possible. Right?

"I don't recall there being any dancing tonight. Unless you count Iris attempting to do the macarena during charades." He smirked a little, the slight curve of his lips catching Cisco's gaze. The shorter man chuckled and shook his head.

"Not what I meant, Harry, and you know it." Ramon sighed a little. "If I'm wrong, and I really don't think I am, then tell me I'm wrong. Right here, right now. And I'll never say another word about it." Cisco demanded, but softly.

Harry could read nearly every emotion Cisco had to offer by now. And what Harry saw on his face, in his eyes, was hope. And fear. Hope that Harry wouldn't reject him. Fear that he might. It made Harry swallow hard, his own anxiety flaring. Because, fuck... he didn't want to reject Cisco. Not Cisco. Never Cisco. But could he live with himself if he went into this knowing that someday he might just hurt him? Could he really so selfishly subject Ramon to his anger and grief and self-loathing ways on such a level? Could he-

Harry froze in place.

He didn't get the chance to finish running through his thoughts and reply to Ramon. Because the shorter man had a much different idea.

The feel of Cisco's cold but softer than soft lips on his own erased every thought, every worry, every possible argument Harry might have had. And before he could think logically about it, he was relaxing. He let himself move against Cisco, their lips slipping together in deliriously wonderful presses. Harry brought his hand up to the back of Cisco's head, fingers curling into his hair, his other sliding around to Ramon's back and holding him firm. Cisco's hands had minds of their own, clinging to Harry in near desperation as they began to deepen that kiss into something far more encompassing.

Cisco tasted like eggnog and warmth and... did joy have a taste? Because he tasted like joy. The way his tongue slid along with Harry's was just like dancing. And Harry couldn't get enough of this, would never get enough of Ramon.

The kiss ended naturally, leaving them both heaving hot breath into the winter air, hands still decidedly stuck to each other, foreheads pressed together as though separating themselves would be a truly horrible idea.

"I knew I wasn't wrong." Cisco whispered, then smiled. Bright, beautiful, joyous.

"Are you sure about this, Ramon?" Harry had to ask, had to know. He lifted his head, studied the slight swollen quality to Ramon's mouth, brought a thumb up and slipped it across Cisco's lower lip. Goddammit, he was delicious. He blinked at the urge to take those lips again, and forced himself to look in Cisco's eyes. Because this was important. Very, very important. "I'm not..." He swallowed, cleared his throat a little, let his hand fall, "I shouldn't be anyone's first choice." Cisco's expression grew stern in a heartbeat.

"You think I don't know what kind of asshole you can be?" He scolded. "Cause I do. And I know you think you don't deserve to be happy, either. Which is total crap." He sighed a little at what had to be a stunned expression on Harry's face. Then he brought his mouth back up, a soothing kiss lingering for a few breaths before he pulled away again. "I also know you're the strongest, bravest, most intelligent, caring, loving man I've ever met. Which means I'm good with all the stuff you think I shouldn't be. Because I can handle all that, as long as it means I get to have the rest."

Harry's smile was slow, but full-blown affectionate in a way he would never be able to disguise.

Kissing Cisco again was all the response he had.

Eventually, they made it the last two blocks to Ramon's apartment building, just to stop on the stone stairs and kiss again. And again. Now that they could, it was like they didn't want to stop.

"You can spend the night, if you want..." Ramon offered, when they'd separated just long enough to get a word in. Harry chuckled, pulling back enough to really examine Cisco's face. "And don't you dare ask me if I'm sure, because I am. I'm very..." Cisco inhaled sharply as he looked Harry over, "Very sure."

Harry couldn't say no to that.

He'd learned he couldn't say no to much of anything when it came to Cisco Ramon. Not that he regretted that in the least.

He did stay the night. In fact, he rarely slept in his own bed again after that.

Life went on exactly as it had before. He and Cisco kept their well-earned rhythm, their dynamic changing only as much as how physical they were with each other and how annoying it was to everyone else.

Cisco never once thought it had been a bad decision. Harry found himself steadily agreeing, a little more every day.

And eventually, he began feeling something he didn't know he could feel... joy.

All thanks to the stubborn love of Cisco Ramon.

#eeeeek #okay this turned out cuter than i thought it would #writing prompt #QuietDarkness #cisco ramon #harry wells #harrisco #I hope you enjoy!

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Strong woman

Authors note- This was written for a very sweet anon. I hope you like it. Happy reading💕

Please do not steal or repost my work. Reblogs are more than welcome.

Summary- You have always secretly wanted to be dominated. Steve fulfills your wish.

Warnings- smut, spanking, dom Steve, sub reader, mentions of pornography, sexist workplace.

Word count-2k

Masterlist

It was another mission. Another day where little boys with big egos - who were much younger and inexperienced than you questioned your authority.

Being a female shield agent was tough. If you had a dollar for every time your authority was questioned or someone had called you bitch or cunt, you’d probably be richer than Tony Stark.

Here you were getting yelled at by Director Fury for your teammates mistakes.

Still you took it like a champ. Not being fazed by him one bit.

You had learned years ago, if you have to survive in this field you have to be stone cold. At work you adapted somewhat of a resting bitch-face and a don’t fuck with me attitude. It was the only way to get people to actually listen to you.

Though in the process you had lost yourself. Being someone else for most of the time wasn’t easy, it felt very isolating. You often wondered if it was worth it.

You could never talk about your love for makeup or baking. Or crack a smile just because you felt like it or even wear a pretty pink dress.

You had never been able to hold a stable relationship. No one could understand why you loved and somewhat hated your job at the same time. Being taller than most men didn’t help either.

In other words, men were scared of you. You were well aware of that and had accepted nunhood for the rest of your life.

That was until you met him.

At six foot two he was one of the few men taller than you. You felt so precious and womanly whenever he hugged you or bent down to kiss you. His muscles were so hard and tender at the same time. He also had one of the most beautiful smiles which matched perfectly with his sparking blue eyes.

All your life, you never would’ve guessed a man from the forties, a man out of time, would be able to understand you. To support your career but at the same time call you out whenever you overdid it.

You didn’t have to pretend with him. You could stop in your tracks and gush over how cute a small puppy is or watch chessy romcoms and let your feminine side breathe.

You hadn’t been dating for long before you two became intimate. He was quite nervous, so you had to take the lead.

While you didn’t mind guiding him or telling him what to do, sometimes you just wished he’d tie you to your bed and just do whatever the hell he wants with you.

Own you and dominate you and push you.

There was an easy solution to this problem. You could just ask him to be more dominant but you weren’t willing to risk it. You had finally found ' one'. Besides, who cares if he isn’t into fucking you till you passed out?

After an hour long lecture from Fury you took a long shower in the locker room and called Steve to let him know you were headed to your place. He offered to go there first to cook you some dinner. As much as you didn’t want to be a bother you couldn’t refuse. After all he did make delicious chilli.

You wiggled the keys in your apartment door and closed it behind you. You smelled the delicious food and smiled to yourself. Not coming home to an empty house surely was something else. Maybe someday you could make this a permanent arrangement.

“Steve?”, you called out for him and went inside the living room to see him sitting on your sofa staring at the screen of your laptop. “What are you doing?”

“Oh... I”, he looked at you as you were staggered, “I needed to check my emails. But this was already on”, he tilted the laptop so you could see the screen and you felt as if you could die right there.

You had left your pretty hardcore bdsm porn on.

“Look! That’s probably an ad!” How were you a spy but such a terrible liar at the same time?

“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied and went back to looking at the screen. His jaw clenched and eyes squinted. “You like this stuff?”

You cringed and shut your eyes hard as if doing that would get you out of this situation. “I... yes, it’s mine. But you were gone for like a week! I had to make do with something. I have needs!” you screamed at the end and covered your mouth to stop embarrassing yourself further.

“Believe me I know that,” he smirked “what’s that?” he asked pointing at the screen.

You were surprised at how calm he was. Shouldn’t he be out the door by now?

“That’s a... uh.. flogger”

You noticed his adams apple bob as he swallowed. “Looks interesting. Do you want to try it?” he looked at you expectantly.

You suddenly felt put on spot. Was this a trap, a test? What were you supposed to say? You decided to just go with the truth. You can’t dig yourself out of this hole no matter how hard you tried.

“Well...yeah..”

He stared into your eyes as if he was looking through your soul. “Then we should. Where do you want to start?”

“I... well I’ve always wanted to be spanked. Not by a whip! But you know.. because I’ve been a bad girl”

“You have been a bad girl. Watching such things while I was gone. What should we do with you” he closed the laptop and put it on the coffee table in front of him.

You looked at his buldging cock straining against his jeans. He spread his legs and rubbed his jean clad thighs smirking down at them. He looked up at you willing you to speak. “I asked you a question”

“Whatever you see fit, " you replied, trying to sound sultry. “Sir,” you added for good measure.

“Get over my lap,” he ordered.

You felt your body moving before your mind could register what he had said. You bent over his lap and rested your weight on it as he stroked and groped your clothed ass.

“I think five slaps should be enough," he hummed, "Did you touch yourself?” he stopped stroking waiting for your answer.

“Yes, I did," you bit your lip already feeling aroused and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Well then... how about ten slaps?” he asked giving your ass a squeeze.

You moaned and frantically nodded your head. “Yes, sir”

“Do you think I’m going to spank you over your leggings?” he asked, his tone on the verge of annoyance.

You pulled your leggings and panties down as fast as you could and gripped the arm of the sofa dripping in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he praised you and stroked your ass in circular motions. “You will count for me?” he asked though it was more of an order than a question.

“Yes, sir."

He bent over to kiss the hair behind your ear. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he whispered in your ear. His voice tender and loving, a stark contrast to how he was speaking before. You nodded yes.

He slapped your right cheek hard. The noise echoing through your living room.

You gasped feeling him stroke your burning cheek. “One," you sighed.

He took a few moments to admire your ass, entranced by it. He had always loved it. He loved looking at it when you wore tight pants or bent down to pick something up. He loved grabbing it when you bounced on his cock. He most definitely loved how you would grind against his crotch while dancing.

But this was something else. Looking at his handprint on your asscheck he felt a surge of possesiveness build inside him. No one had done this to you before. You were trusting him and being completely vulnerable in front of him.

He raised his hand, this time aiming for your left cheek. You cried and jumped in his lap.

“Two.”

He felt a wet spot on his jeans right between your legs. He couldn’t resist dipping his fingers in and tracing your lips, staying away from your clit. You had been a bad girl after all. He played with your pussy for a while before returning to the task at hand.

You were a shaking, moaning and crying mess for the next few slaps. His thigh drenched completely by your juices. You had tried to play with your tits in the middle of it but Steve swatted your hands away threatening to not give you your reward. So you were doing your best to take your punishment like a good girl.

“Come on, doll, just two more,” he tried to sooth you as spanked you again.

“Nine!” you screamed holding onto a throw pillow.

He stared at your swollen ass. You would have trouble sitting for the next few days. He looked at your glistening pussy. It looked so tempting.

Fuck it. You had been a good girl so far. Maybe he’d give you a teaser of your reward.

He dipped two fingers in your pussy and heard you sigh. He pumped his fingers a few times before bringing them to his lips and sucking on them. Making sure to be loud so you could hear him. You looked over your shoulder curiously and whimpered.

“Have patience. Just one more left, princess,” he cooed at you and stroked your ass getting it ready for the last blow.

Your mind was foggy but you felt your insides tingle at his nickname. No one had ever called you that unless it was an insult. You never thought you’d melt hearing it from a man’s mouth.

You felt his last hard slap on your ass and cried out loud enough for the whole building to hear.

“Ten," you said and smiled, your mind hazily.

He stroked your ass for some time before pulling you off of him and placing you on the sofa. He grabbed a pillow situating it under your hips to raise your ass. You probably didn’t have enough energy to keep up on your own. But there was no way he could wait now.

“You ready for your reward, princess?, he asked lining his cock upto your pussy.

You hummed and nodded. He lightly slapped your ass and you gasped, not expecting it. It felt absolutely lovely on your raw sensitive ass.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, yes, sir I am,” you replied, your voice faltering.

You felt him slowly push into you and groan as he bottomed out. He stayed in there for a few minutes to let you get use to it. But you will never really get used to how big his cock is or just how amazingly he used it to fuck you.

He started moving in slow torturous strokes. His pelvis rubbing against your ass deliciously.

“Stev... sir, harder please," you begged and stuck your ass up to get him even deeper in you.

“As you wish, doll," he groaned and picked up his pace, slamming into your pussy brutally.

You moaned and groaned and thrashed on the sofa. You didn’t know how long he fucked you, you lost all concept of time. You felt the all too familiar knot tightening in your belly and clenched around him.

“You gonna cum?” he asked, his brooklyn accent even more evident now. “Go ahead cum.”

You yelled and released all over him, falling onto the couch, completely fucked out.

His thrusts became erratic and unsteady he groaned and released in you until there was nothing left. You felt sleep come over you before you could say or do anything.

You jolted awake when you felt a cool liquid on you ass. You looked over and saw Steve massaging something on your ass.

He looked up at you and smiled. “Did I wake you?”

You hummed and laid your head on your pillow still feeling weak. “What is that?”

“It’s aloe vera I found it in your bathroom,” it was something that was part of your seven step beauty routine. “I read it will help with the swelling.”

You hummed again already half asleep.

“I read some other things too”, he said while massaging, “things we could try together”

“Oh?” you exclaimed and looked at him. He smiled and winked at you. You quickly turned around and buried your head in the pillow.

You had created a monster.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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