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veronicaphoenix · 6 months

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Chapter tags & trigger warnings: Mentions of sex and sexual innuendos, angst, referenced alcohol intake, intoxication. | Word count: 2.4k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

But she was clearly not done giving me bullshit.

The second last night of the tour, she got drunk.

Again.

I could hear her drunk laugh from across the bar of the hotel as Matt, Jolly, and I made our way through the buzzing atmosphere. I had just told Matt that we were not agreeing to the last-minute terms proposed by the venue where we would play our last show. We had paid for the slot time we needed, and we were not shortening it for their convenience. It wasn’t my fucking problem.

It was barely eleven, and the bar was full of people. Hanging out after a show was usually a welcome change from the chaos of touring, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of exhaustion after weeks on the road and at the prospect of having to take care of Lia’s drunken ass.

Jolly sent me a sideways look when we approached the seated are where Steven and Lia were, immersed in a sea of laughter, their inhibitions drowned in alcohol. Lia seemed particularly unrestrained tonight, and that was bad. She was slumped in the seat, reclined on the red cushions, holding a beer in her hand.

Fantastic.

The three of us stood there, watching them and their pathetic behavior. Lia’s cheeks were tinted red, and her hair, which had been kept in a ponytail all day, was now lose, falling over her shoulders and chest. Her makeup was a bit messed up. I glanced at Nick, who was at the bar procuring two bottles of water. Nick had tried, unsuccessfully, to curb Lia’s drinking. His expression conveyed a mixture of apology and helplessness. I didn’t blame him. I knew how persistent Lia could be. I knew very fucking well.

The raucous laughter continued as Lia, in her inebriated state, noticed us with her dazed eyes and began weaving nonsensical tales to the guys and me. She was unable to fix her gaze anywhere, so she couldn’t see how frustrated I was getting, worry also gnawing at me. She mentioned a girl she met during the photocall before the show, told Jolly that she had made some dirty comments about him. Lia’s mood changed quickly from amusement to anger. She tried to stand up to reach for Jolly and wrap him in her arms, but she fell back down on the sofa with a silent thud, causing Steven to laugh even more, his voice deep and rough. He had spilled some beer and his t-shirt was stained. Nick pursed his lips in embarrassment, looking over his shoulder at the people sat in other areas of the bar and looking in Lia’s direction with shame and annoyance. Matt muttered something along the lines “this is bad”, and I just tensed my jaw at the sight of her in that condition.

“Don’t laugh, you moron,” she slapped Steven on the shoulder. “Jolly, please, I need a hug.”

“I think you need to have a cold shower, Gremlin.”

“But you know what happens if Gremlins get wet!”

“And you should know what happens to you when you drink,” he countered, earning a frown from Lia and a pout.

Seriously?

“Somebody give me a hug,” she kept on pleading. “My mother used to say that if I didn’t get any hugs was because I was a bad girl, and I wasn’t! But still, she didn’t give me any. Jolly, please?” she pleaded, extending grabby hands towards him.

Ignoring the stares and whispers from the onlookers at the bar, I was the one that bent over Lia, her gaze, clouded by the effects of alcohol, flickering with a mix of confusion and annoyance as she saw me reaching towards her.

“Okay. That’s enough. Let’s go,” I said.

“But…”

“Hold on to me,” I instructed.

Lia wrapped her arms around my neck without complaint and I pulled her up. She fell on my side, and I held her by the waist. The boys moved back, and Steven called me a whiner.

“Fuck you,” I shot back at him, maintaining my focus on keeping Lia steady.

“Nowaah… I feel sick,” she mumbled as her gaze drifted to the floor, blinking repeatedly.

“No bet,” Nick muttered under his breath.

Leaving the guys behind to deal with Steven, the room fell into a momentary hush as I carried Lia towards the exit, my expression probably conveying a mixture of protective concern and frustration as we crossed other hotel guests on the way to the elevator.

Behind us, soon enough the bar slowly resumed its usual rhythm. On the other hand, the hotel’s corridors held the weight of my silent worry for the woman I kept tucked under my arm.

“I wanted to stay a bit longer…” She mumbled when the elevator doors closed, trapping us inside. Managing to wrap an arm around my back for support, her hand clenched the fabric of my hoodie. “Where are we going now? Disneyland? This is so cool!” She exclaimed as the elevator started moving, her head shooting up and scanning side to side.

“To your room,” I simply said.

“Oh, great,” she replied excitedly. “Everything’s moving, Noah!”

“I know. Do you feel like puking?”

“No, I don’t think so.

“Come on.”

A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened on the third floor and I guided her out. She turned her head to me as we walked, her frown deepening by the minute.

“Why are you so serious?”

Her tone seemed unexpectedly sober, which prompted me to reply.

“I’m tired of this, Lia,” I confessed as I ushered her until we stood in front of her door.

“You don’t like me anymore?”

If you only knew…

“You’re still my favorite person!” She declared, jumping up and down, nearly tripping.

“Careful. Where’s the key?”

A mischievous smirk appeared on her face.

“Back pocket of my jeans. Left side.”

“Can you give it to me?”

She shook her head.

“You want the key? You’ll have to earn it.”

Caught off ward, I hesitated for a moment. I sighed, releasing a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying.

Okay, then. I ignored her games. I slid my arm around her waist and swiftly retrieved the card from the back pocket of her jeans. As I did so, she bit her lip, her brown eyes never leaving mine.

“Am I your favorite person?” She whispered, tilting her head to the side a little.

“You know you are,” I answered, uninterested. She was getting on my nerves, but I was well-aware she wouldn’t remember anything the next morning.

I opened the door and led us inside, flicking the dim lights on. Her hotel room was, as per usual, more organized than mine. Her shoes were kept in a line by the door, her suitcase closed on the luggage rack, the desk busy with her MacBook, books, two small bottles of water, and a pile of properly folded clothes.

“But you’re angry at me,” she continued. She wasn’t wrong.

“That’s right,” I answered, taking her to the bed. I couldn’t deny the sparks of frustration growing inside of me. “You have to stop this, Lia. You’re really pissing me off.”

She swiftly turned around, the back of her thighs colliding with the mattress, a huge smile plastered on her face. She was a mess.

“Are you gonna punish me?”

As I stood only two feet away from her, my gaze narrowed on her, her words doing something to me.

“Punish you? I definitely should. You’ve been testing my patience all night, every single day since the tour started.” I was done keeping things to myself. She wouldn’t remember anything the next morning, so the least I could do to keep myself sane was let her know how bad she was making my blood boil. “But you’re not mine.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she concluded, shaking her head. “You can do whatever you want with me,” she opened her arms and I had to hold her to keep her from falling.

If I had my way, I would. There were so many scenarios I’d imagined with her, so many things I dreamed of doing to her.

“That’s not how it works, and you know it. Let’s get you changed and into bed.”

I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down to sit. I kneeled in front of her, one leg bent as I lifted her left foot and took off her boot, the scenario taking me back to another time, during the last tour, when the same scenario had unfolded.

I took off her other boot, followed by her socks.

“Can you undo your jeans?” I asked her in a low voice.

She did it, and exhausted as she was, her head going in circles, she let herself fall back against the mattress, her body sinking into the softness beneath her.

“Hips up,” I ordered.

She did so, and I bent over her to put my hands on her hips. Restraining myself was a hard task, but I would damn myself if I did something else than pulling down her jeans. Her legs, revealed in the soft glow of the room, were smooth and golden, except for the small purple bruise on her right knee from bumping into one of the boxes when we were unloading the truck a few shows prior. There was an allure there, in her bare skin, pulling me down. In any other circumstance, I would have just leaned down and…

“You know, it didn’t stop you last time.”

My hands froze on the fabric of her jeans as I was about to pull them from her ankles.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” she started saying in a whisper, her eyes locked in the ceiling, her hair spread in a halo around her head. “The way you touched me, the way you kissed me, the way your body felt on top of mine...”

Suddenly, all the sounds coming from outside, the traffic down the street, the voices in the hotel corridor were blocked out from my mind, and I was only able to process her words, my heart stammering in my chest, my blood going cold.

“You don’t remember any of that,” I busted out, but despite my words, the beating of my heart increased, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly felt too hot to handle. “You’re drunk, Lia. Stop talking.”

“You’re wrong,” she replied, rising her voice. Her mood kept swinging from happy to angry, and I was afraid at how that night would end. “I remember how you felt,” one of her hands, that had been splayed on the bed, moved to her thigh, and I watched her like a hawk as her fingertips caressed the skin there, near her hip. I swallowed. “How you made me feel…” She closed her eyes and a sigh fell of her lips. “Nobody had ever taken care of me like that. You kept playing with my nipple for a while. And because you’re a control freak you had to keep my hands restrained over my head so that you could have your way with me, right? It was so good, Noah.”

“Lia… Enough. Please,” I begged. It was getting hard to swallow, my whole body had gone rigid, tense. I took a deep breath, blinking and shaking my head to push the memories away. “Sit up. Let me take off your t-shirt.”

She did so. She lifted her arms up and I stood up, pulling her t-shirt along until she was left clad in her thin bra and panties, sitting in the hotel bed like a penitent child waiting guidance.

I walked to the only armchair in the room to leave her clothes there. I opened her suitcase and took out one of the oversized shirts she used to sleep in. I froze for two seconds when I saw that she had brought my hoodie with her, the one I had asked her to take when she left the house.

“I was worried it wouldn’t fit,” she said.

“What are you talking about now?” I asked, back in front of her. I helped her put on the t-shirt, and she mumbled something about feeling dizzy before taking a deep breath and steadying herself, then, she opened her eyes and looked up at me as if I was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“You’re so tall, and your fingers are so long…” she took my hand in hers and touched my inked fingers, admiring them. “I thought the size of your cock would be proportional. I mean, it was, but I always thought it would be too big to fit.”

You gotta be kidding me.

I was in such shock that I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud until Lia replied:

“I’m not kidding. You should know the size of your own dick, no?”

She was far gone. What the fuck was this? My cock was throbbing, my brain was going nuts, and my heart was aching.

I stood up, my hands into fists, and told her to get into bed. I couldn’t care less if she was going to sleep with her makeup on and her hair all tangled-up. I was done for the night, for a lifetime, actually. I moved the two bottles of water from the desk to the nightstand and found an ibuprofen in Lia’s medication bag. My heart shrunk at the sight of all the pills she had there. The array ranged from seemingly innocuous herbal remedies to heavy medications like Valium and its variants, each serving a purpose in masking her pain.

I ran a hand down my face before turning back to her. She had managed to make her way under the covers and was nearly asleep, her breathing steady.

I told her to make sure she drank something. And then I left the somber room, switching off the main lights and leaving behind the sound of rustling sheets as Lia shifted in her sleep. I lingered for a moment, watching over her from the door, the dim light that came from the lamp on the night table casting shadows on her face, highlining the delicate vulnerability that she tried so hard to conceal during waking hours.

But as I closed the door behind me, I couldn’t nag the feeling that maybe her life was deemed to keep going down a dark path despite my efforts to keep her afloat. If only we could make it work, her and I… I leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

What the fuck had just happened?

Her voice echoed in my mind.

“I always thought it would be too big to fit.”

She always thought?

Fucking. Lia.

She remembered everything.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x ofc #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #the inevitability of love at second sight #KOI NO YOKAN #Koi no yokan chapter 7 #jolly karlsson #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo

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yukidragon · 11 months

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Sunny Day Jack Headcanons - Alice and Ian's Breakup

I wound up going on a bit of a ramble in a thread over on twitter yesterday about the breakup between Ian and Alice. My friend @sai-of-the-7-stars suggested that I put it in a tumblr too, so here we go, with some extra thoughts and commentary. After all, once you get me going on a ramble it's hard to stop me, hahahaha.

Before I begin, I'll quickly link to some previous theories that relate to this discussion, such as why Ian cheated, a few spicy details about Alice and Ian's sex life, reasons why Alice can't bring herself to hurt Ian, her family's reactions to his cheating, and other assorted headcanons relating to the two of them and their breakup here, here, here, and here. I'm probably missing some links to relevant prior discussions, but there are so many headcanons at this point that even a search engine isn't enough to sort through them all, haha.

Disclaimer: these headcanons apply to my personal fan made continuity known as Sunshine in Hell and don't necessarily reflect the game. No doubt the actual relationship between MC and Ian is going to have a different set of nuances to it than I'm exploring in my writing. Not to mention each MC is unique and the branching paths of the game will lead to different outcomes between these two.

Also, content warning: this post will discuss a relationship turned toxic, unhealthy levels of emotional dependency, codependency, emotional manipulation, self-loathing, past traumas, religious guilt, and just unhealthy relationship dynamics in general. This is an Adults Only game and touches on mature topics after all.

With that out of the way, let's discuss how Alice tried to end her relationship with Ian before the start of Sunshine in Hell... which, as we can see in chapter 6, was less than successful.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, Ian really needs therapy. Thanks to a lifetime of abuse at the hands of his toxic mother, not to mention the bullying and isolation he received from his peers while growing up, he has a lot of issues. Really, I'd argue he probably needs therapy more than he needs a relationship right now.

Alice isn't ignorant of that fact. Her coming to the realization that a lot of their relationship revolved around her trying to help fix his issues for him was pretty much the key that led her to choosing to end things for good. As much as she wants to help Ian, as much as she loves him... she can't fix him. No one should be expected to fix anyone else's issues... especially if they've given up on the idea that they can get better.

Ian's self-confidence is... pretty miserable, to be frank. We've seen plenty of examples of it in the demo and in teasers. He depends on his partner to be the strong one. He doesn't see himself being able to handle going on without them... He sees MC as the strong one, and he pretty much is so used to being torn down that he tears himself down preemptively, constantly feeling the need to apologize.

Alice did try to help Ian with his confidence. Since the first day they met, she has been there for him, supported him, cared for him deeply... and eventually loved him more than anyone else. She defended him from bullies, held him whenever he cried, reassured him that he's better than what everyone else has said, listened to him vent, and accepted every apology he's given her regardless if he actually made a mistake or not.

She accepted his apologies even if he didn't actually understand what he did wrong.

There were good moments between them, but Ian kept needing Alice's support. He couldn't handle standing on his own. He depended on her to the point that it was crushing. Things would have been more balanced between them if he shouldered some of the weight of her problems as well, but he couldn't handle them. He was convinced he couldn't. He wasn't strong like her.

Ian was supportive, but it was a far more fragile support, one that crumbled so very easily as the pressure overwhelmed him.

Alice is the oldest child in a large and loving family. She's been the responsible child, helping with all the younger siblings. She coped with being sick with something incurable, and never let the bullies see her cry. She stood up to Ian's mother directly for his sake, something that he could never bring himself to do. She always seemed so much larger than life to him even though they were the same age. She always seemed better than him, at least in his eyes.

Ian couldn't understand why Alice struggled with self-confidence issues. Maybe it was his fault? If it was, he's sorry. He thinks she's beautiful and other people are weird. He doesn't like them like he likes her. If she's feeling bad, then it must be his fault, and he's so sorry...

Essentially, Ian was so ready to take the blame for everything... including his partner's own problems. This left Alice needing to reassure him on top of handle her own issues.

So it was just easier for Alice not to talk about issues with Ian. She just dismissed her problems as something she could handle. She can deal with it. She's oldest in her house. She's mature. She's smart. Heck, she was gifted in school. Gifted kid burnout what's that?

Ian doesn't have support like Alice does. His family doesn't love him. His only family abuses him. He needs her. He needs her understanding. He doesn't mean to hurt her. Heck, he's feeling bad because she's feeling bad. How can that be toxic behavior?

That's why it took Alice so long to accept that what she and Ian had wasn't a healthy relationship. She was supporting the emotional weight for both of them, and Ian thought that supporting her financially would balance that scale... though he didn't think he could make it on his own.

The signs were there even before Ian left for his prestigious school. The long distance relationship made their problems worse, since Ian didn't have Alice to support him in the way he was used to. There were scheduling problems and suddenly he had all these friends that were demanding his time. He had connections he needed to forge, a chance at actually making it in the future... and he got a taste of popularity for the first time. He got to see that other people weren't as weird or off-putting as he convinced himself they were...

Supporting Ian over phone calls and messaging aps was harder for Alice to do than in person. She couldn't hold him while he cried. She struggled for words sometimes, as verbal conversations are her weak point. Texting was easier in that regard, but that was so impersonal to Ian. He needed to hear her voice and see her face.

Whenever Ian had a problem, he brought it to Alice, asking her what he should do. Over time he leaned on her advice more as they grew. He depended on her when they were living together and even after moving he needed her help... though there were things he would keep secret from her for fear that she wouldn't understand. After all, he felt so much shame towards himself and his desires...

The cheating was the breaking point for the two of them, but even then that wasn't the end right away. Despite Alice being hospitalized for alcohol poisoning and accidentally injuring herself after finding out... she wanted to forgive Ian. He was sorry. She knew that was sorry. She knew him better than anyone. She believed his story that it just happened... that he just got swept up by the other person's charms and lost control of himself.

After all, Ian had a history of losing control of himself when it came to sex.

There were couples that did come back from cheating. It wasn't impossible, and Alice didn't want the relationship to be over. She wanted so badly to believe that it was just another mistake made by Ian. Poor, clumsy, apologetic Ian... the only one who could ever love or desire her...

But this wasn't healthy. Their relationship after this while trying to repair things was so much worse. Alice couldn't even handle kissing Ian, and the guilt struck him each time she asked for more time before she could handle physical intimacy with him again. Before, she could power through even being choked or rough sex despite hating it, but now...

It felt wrong. His "I love you" and all those promises that she was the only one for him felt like lies. Ian still spent time with those friends of his who crossed boundaries, not even completely cutting off the person he cheated with. He couldn't due to the connections he was forming to further his career. He was just starting out, and those connections would make or break everything. He had to smile for the camera and socialize. He had to become successful.

It was the only way to make his cheating worth it at that point. It was the only way Ian could see repairing what he had broken.

It was hellish for both of them. Alice eventually was forced to realize that this wasn't what a relationship was supposed to look like - romantic or otherwise. With the help of her friends like Shaun and some of her family, she was able to accept that there really was no coming back from this.

Their relationship had been sick for a long time, and the cheating was the final blow that killed it. Nothing good would come from trying to force its corpse to keep moving even as it continued to rot.

Really, what helped Alice manage the strength to end things was knowing that this was damaging Ian as well. She was so used to just accepting her own pain for his sake that it really was what was needed to make her see that this self-sacrifice wasn't good for either of them.

Alice realized that she wasn't Ian's support like she always thought she was - she was his enabler. She let him use her in order to feel better, more like a bandage over his issues than a person. She had become more like a narcotic he depended on to hobble through the day rather than taking real steps to get better.

So, when Alice decided that it had to end, she wrote down everything she wanted to say. It was the only way she would be able to force him to see the truth like she did. She wanted Ian to get help, go to therapy, explore what he really wanted out of life... without her. Without considering her at all in the future. He had to be independent of her... and she needed to be independent of him.

The relationship was too toxic. The trust was gone. It was best for both of them if they went their separate ways.

Love isn't supposed to hurt this badly.

Ian, of course, couldn't accept this. Alice couldn't even read out the entire speech she wrote down before he was on his knees in tears, begging her not to give up on him, on them... to not throw him away like everyone else. He made mistakes, but he'll do better. He's so sorry! He loves her!

Ian always had a way of knowing how to make Alice want to protect him.

It's hard ending things with someone you love, even if you know it's what's best for the both of you.

Try as she might, Alice couldn't be harsh on Ian. She couldn't yell and scream or smash things... she felt so bad for him. She still loved him so, so much... wanted the world for him... and that love was stifling his growth... and slowly killing her.

The best Alice could do was a compromise. A break. They would be broken up "for now." They needed to give each other space if there was any hope of them reconciling in the future.

It was the biggest lie Alice ever told Ian, and he was desperate enough to believe it.

To Alice there is no chance. It hurts too much. That's why she left their shared apartment, left behind anything she could afford to that had too many memories attached to Ian. Anything she couldn't, she has to try and work through her own issues with in her new place.

She didn't tell him where she moved.

To Ian, this is just a break. That's all it is. This is just like if one of them went off to camp for a week before they got cell phones and couldn't make contact. They'll get back together. He just has to fix things. He has to make what he did worth it. He has to get them the house they always dreamed off in the place they always wanted to raise kids in... plenty of money to take care of them both where Alice never has to worry about anything ever again, not even him cheating...

But Ian knows they're on the brink. Alice doesn't call him or send him messages, and that's terrifying. He did give her some time at first. Maybe a week or two... but she wasn't posting on her social medias. He didn't know what she was up to. Was she eating or taking care of herself? She skipped meals sometimes. She overworked herself so much. She hurt herself badly before without him. What if she was in the hospital again? Who would tell him?

So Ian stalks Alice on her socials. He contacts anyone who knows her and is still willing to try and mediate things between them, like Coraline and a couple mutual friends. He sends her voice mails and messages so she won't forget him, making sure she knows he's sorry and that he'll fix things.

Ian is willing to apologize every day for the rest of his life if it'll fix things.

Alice never answers him, and that only makes him more desperate to hear from her. It's what leads him to leaving so many voice mails. He's not blocked, and he knows she didn't change her number since he still hears her sweet voice asking callers to leave a message... but she never gets back to him.

Ian makes posts about stuff she would like on his socials, hoping to spark conversations, trying to provoke a response, but they don't. Sometimes he tags her with things he knows she likes. He knows he's not blocked so she must see them. He tagged them properly!

They know each other better than anyone, right? Ian knows more about Alice than even her family knows. Even when things ended, he knew she loves him, even if he couldn't understand why she would insist on taking a break despite them loving each other...

They'll get over this. They have to. They've come back from other rough patches. They still love each other. It's just a break. Alice said so herself. Eventually... as long as Ian just tries harder to fix things... things will be okay between them in the end... right?

Every message from Ian is hell to Alice. Every tear he sheds because of her is like acid on her skin. She wants to scream at him to just stop since it hurts so much... but she can't because she knows he's hurting too.

Alice ended things. She had to be strong for both of them. She always had to be the strong one. The only way things would get better is if she stays strong and never says a word to Ian again. Eventually... he'll figure out that he doesn't need her... that he shouldn't need her like he convinced himself does.

The sad thing is that Ian is aware that Alice still cares. If she didn't, she would have blocked him. She wouldn't let his messages get through. He doesn't know if she's listening to his messages, but he still sends them with the hope that she is, that something he says somehow makes things right.

Ian, unfortunately, isn't self-aware of how manipulative he's being. It hasn't really clicked that this is far beyond Alice being hurt by him cheating or upset by him "not measuring up as a partner" as he believes it to be. He's not seeing his toxic traits and wasn't really listening when Alice tried to tell him what the real problems were in that final speech when they broke up.

Ian knows he's a crappy partner. He knows he's all these awful things people said he was that Alice used to reassure him that he wasn't. This just proves it. He just has to make everything worth it in the end, give her things she needs that can make her feel proud of having a successful partner like him, someone actually worthy of being partners with someone so kind and giving...

This is why Ian needs therapy so badly. He's focusing on the wrong issues without really understanding what he's really doing to Alice that's so damaging. He is the pitiful victim, substandard and pathetic, needing someone stronger than him to love him despite his flaws.

Ian was focusing so much on what's wrong with him and what he thinks he needs to improve that he doesn't realize how much he's taking from Alice... and he doesn't really listen to what he needed to give in return in order for them to be equal as partners.

All relationships are about give and take from both sides. Unfortunately, Alice kept giving and Ian kept taking.

Apologies aren't enough when a person keeps making the same mistakes over and over again. Eventually even, "I'm sorry," can be repeated until the words become utterly meaningless.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 10 months

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We'll Save You (2/4)

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Janus cooks with Virgil, it goes... not great, at least not for the bread.

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| <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter -> |

TWs: implied/referenced past abuse, panic attack, self deprication

Word Count: 2523

Notes:

Chapter 2 of this! Day 3 of @anaroceitweek, I'm in a huge rush this is barely edited I might come back and fix it up later aaaaaa-

This ones a little shorter, and I unfortunately I won't be able to write the next two chapters in time for their days of the week, but I will finish this fic!! My parents just planned a really inconveniently timed holiday. I hope you enjoy!

Also! This fic is linked to ao3 now! Just click on the title :)

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Janus woke up peacefully for the first time… ever.

There were warm sunbeams shining across the bed in which he woke and a light, comfortable breeze drifting across his face. The plain sheets were messy now - he must’ve tossed and turned a bit in the night - and the pillow he had gone to sleep holding was now on the floor. But regardless, Janus somehow found himself feeling well rested and… content.

He hadn’t remembered where he was at first, looking around in panic thinking he’d fallen asleep in one of The Lady’s chambers he was supposed to be cleaning, but as his panic subsided everything started coming back to him. He should be safe here,

Somehow knowing that didn’t stop him from flinching when someone knocked on the door.

“You look… better,” Anxiety said, stepping into the room when Janus hesitantly called a ‘come in’. He tensed, just a little. Anxiety’s aura was oppressive, almost heavy, to the point where even Janus - a mortal with no magical powers - could feel it. It seemed to brush just the edges of his mind, as if looking for a way into his thoughts, and it felt so familiar - so much like Hers - that he couldn’t help but pale as they stepped closer.

“I brought you food,” Anxiety said when Janus didn’t speak, “Ro told me everything from yesterday, and for what it’s worth I hate what you’ve been through. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“What do you care?” Janus asked, frowning but not taking his eyes off of Anxiety for a second, “You’re like her.”

“I know our auras are similar,” Anxiety said, a little sadly, “But I assure you that I’m nothing like her.”

The way the words seemed to hiss from Anxiety’s mouth jollted Janus into some kind of sense - she had never hissed like that, her voice was always smooth and sickly sweet, even when she was angry. And Anxiety was fae, he couldn’t have said that if it wasn’t true.

“We’re going to protect you here,” Anxiety said, “Both me and Ro, but for us to do that… you need to trust us.”

“I can’t,” Janus admitted, looking up at Anxiety, his presence was still unsettling and nervewracking, it still felt like her even if he knew they weren’t the same.

“That’s okay,” Anxiety sighed, perhaps a little frustrated, but nothing more, “I will leave this here, you’re welcome to explore the house, if you want to.”

“...okay,” Janus nodded. Anxiety nodded back, placing the tray of food they held down on a small side table before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Janus waited a few minutes before pulling himself up. Carefully testing his legs and finding that - while they still burned from overuse - they didn’t buckle like before. He took a few experimental steps and found that aside from his straining muscles he felt… fine.

It was strange, it had been a long time since he’d woken up without fresh bruises and cuts causing him pain.

Grabbing the tray - which seemed to be made of pure silver, Janus felt almost dirty touching it with his bare hands - he made his way over to a chair and table in the corner of the room and sat down. For a long while he simply stared at the meal in front of him. A simple breakfast of what looked to be typically mortal foods - two fried eggs, a strip of bacon and a piece of toasted bread - along with a glass of what smelled like some kind of fruit juice. While the food may look mortal enough, Janus could still pinpoint the slight sheen that came with faerie food. He remembered then what Prince had said yesterday. He’d need faerie food to be sustained, he couldn’t live on mortal food anymore.

Eventually, after staring for long enough that the food probably started to go cold, Janus relented and picked up the cutlery that also sat on the tray and began to eat. He couldn’t help but make a noise in delight - this was potentially the best food he’d had… ever.

He ate slowly, trying to savour every bite of food he took. Still not quite reassured that he would get more, and it was delicious, much better than anything he had ever had back before, and definitely better than the leftovers and scraps he was rarely fed after that apple back with Her.

When he was finished he left the tray on the table and got up to look around the room he had been left in. Anxiety had told him that he could explore, and maybe he would… later, he wasn’t prepared to leave the safety of this room just yet.

It must have been a few hours later when someone returned, this time it was someone Janus didn’t recognise, who didn’t speak to him as they took the tray he had left from breakfast and left another in it’s place - this one housing what looked to be a sandwich - before hurrying out of the room again.

Three days passed until Janus finally got bored enough that he would rather risk leaving his room than staying. The view from the balcony was lovely, but there was only so much admiring he could possibly do. Even the worry that he might go somewhere he wasn’t supposed to was dampened with his need to find something to do.

From the hallway outside of his door, Janus chose a random direction and began walking. Attempting to keep track of turns he took in his head so that he’d be able to find his way back to his room once he was done.

On his way he passed many rooms, some bedrooms that looked similarly to his, but as he turned into what must have been a new wing of the house he started seeing new places - a cozy looking sitting room, a larger study…

As he got to the centre of the house, he found that the ceiling opened up into a huge open courtyard walled in on each side. Looking down he discovered that he was on the second floor and below him seemed to be an exotic garden. A large tree with drooping leaves and branches in the centre surrounded by all manner of plants and flowers. Okay, Janus nodded to himself, he needed to find a way downstairs.

Fortunately, the stairs didn’t prove too difficult to locate and quickly enough Janus found himself walking through the courtyard, admiring the flowers that came in more colours than Janus knew existed, some of which shimmered in the sunlight, others which seemed to turn towards him as he made his way through. He didn’t touch anything, well aware that it was all likely magical, but that didn’t stop him from admiring the plants until he continued on his exploration.

He found an extravagantly decorated ballroom - even more so than the rest of this already extravagant house - which backed onto what seemed to be extensive gardens from what Janus could see from inside. He found what seemed to be a formal dining room, a second study, another living room and a library big enough to make Janus feel tiny in comparison - he made a mental note. He’d have to go back there later, if he really as allowed to stay.

Eventually he came across a slightly duller part of the house that seemed to be a little more populated with people who Janus hadn’t seen before. They seemed to be working here, with laundry or food or other cleaning - servants. Janus was worried for a moment that these people were stuck here like he used to be, but after overhearing a conversation about weekend plans - the maid was going home for the weekend to see her family - he was reassured that they at the very least weren’t forced to stay here.

Another thing Janus found interesting to note was that they all seemed to ignore him in his entirety.

How odd.

In the end, he found his way to the kitchen, poking his head through the door as he had every other room he passed in the house. Only this time when he looked inside he saw someone he recognised.

What was Anxiety doing in the kitchen? Janus thought. From what he had gathered, they and Prince seemed to be in charge around here, and they had plenty of servants. It was never the master of the house’ job to cook, why, if She had ever been seen in the kitchen she would have thrown a fit!

He must have looked for just a second too long, because despite having his back turned, Anxiety seemed to notice him.

“Hello Deceit,” Anxiety said, without turning around. They seemed to be focused on what they were doing, “Finally ventured out of your room I see?”

Janus stood up straighter, taking a deep breath and attempting to look a lot more confident than he felt. Anxiety still worried him, but seeing him every morning - he’d made a point to be the one bringing Janus breakfast the past few days, Prince always brought dinner - had gotten him a little more used to the aura, “I decided to explore a little.”

“Do you like the house?” Anxiety asked, “Prince built it.”

“Really?” Janus said, tentatively stepping inside and closing the door, “It’s a very nice house.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Anxiety nodded, finally turning around, their hands were covered in what looked like dough, “Would you like to help me?”

Janus’ eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious, “What are you doing?”

Anxiety chuckled at Janus’ expression, “Just making bread rolls, nothing nefarious.”

“Okay,” Janus said, nodding and slowly making his way over. Helping Anxiety cook wasn’t… the worst thing, right? He’d cooked before, never with Her - he wasn’t good enough for that - but… before, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s fine,” Anxiety waved him off, before stepping to the side to give Janus some space to stand, “Here uh- you can just copy what I’m doing? We’re just kneading the dough right now.”

The next few minutes were spent kneading dough in silence. It took Janus a moment to get the hang of, but by the time Anxiety said they were ready to be split into smaller dough balls he had basically gotten the hang of it.

It was interesting, he still hadn’t quite figured out why Anxiety was doing the cooking, but he looked happy doing it. His dark eyes sparkling with his small smile. This was really the first time Janus took a few seconds to properly taking in their appearance, most mornings he was half asleep when Anxiety came in. His skin was a very pale blue - nearly white, like ice. His eyes were almost black with flecks of silver and his hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, but from what Janus could see it looked just like… a black void. There were no shadows, no highlights, though he could see a few strands on the edges, but the mass of hair itself seemed to move and combine to make an empty void that hurt Janus’ head to look at for too long.

And he was tall, taller than Janus by far, even though Janus was fairly tall by mortal standards.

Distracted, Janus didn’t notice his hand slipping on the dough, as he went to pass it over. He yelped when he noticed, and it seemed to fall to the floor in slow motion as Janus reached to grab it, only just missing it by a hair. His eyes widened as he stared at the pile of smushed dough on the floor, eyes widening in panic. What would happen now- surely Anxiety would be mad that he dropped it? And he’d made a mess - there were always punishments for making messes, he stepped back, an apology already forming in his throat though he found it was unable to get much further.

Anxiety’s face seemed to pinch with what looked almost like pain, before stepping over the ruined dough to get closer to Janus, crouching a little so that they were eye-level, “Deceit, hon, I need you to breathe, okay?”

Breathe? He was breathing, breathing was a totally normal thing to be doing! Regardless he tried to pull in a breath, because refusing a direct order would get him in far worse trouble, and found that… oh- he actually hadn’t been breathing.

“That’s it,” Anxiety said, voice almost… soft, “In and out, you can copy me if you need to.”

Janus tried to nod, taking breaths and trying to match with Anxiety’s rythem- which Janus noticed had been slightly exaggerated.

“May I touch you?” Anxiety asked once Janus’ breaths started to even out a little more. The request felt odd, no-one had ever asked before touching him before, “I want to help you, when Prince gets like this he likes being held,”

…Held? Janus thought, he didn’t really know if that would help, but if Anxiety thought it would help - he nodded slowly.

Slowly, Anxiety stepped forward, reaching out and pulling him into a loose embrace. At first Janus panicked, just a little, at the idea of being trapped, before Anxiety gently squeezed his shoulders and he realised suddenly that this was… safe. Anxiety wasn’t trying to trap or hurt him, this was meant to just be… nice.

Standing there limp against Anxiety’s chest felt awkward, just a little, so he turned slightly and tried to mirror the same pose - wrapping his own arms around Anxiety in return.

“Better?” Anxiety asked eventually, letting him go just slightly but still keeping him close enough to pull back in. Janus really felt like something had clicked in his head during that experience, because somehow… he wasn’t scared at all anymore.

“I… think so,” Janus said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Anxiety said with a sigh, stepping back properly, “There will just be half as many rolls, it isn’t the end of the world, would you like to stay and help finish them off?”

Janus took a deep breath and shook his head. He’d quite like to go back to his room, actually, and he didn’t want to mess up any more of Anxiety’s food. He watched Anxiety carefully, as he did so, but he made no move to reprimand Janus for refusing as he had half-expected.

“Okay,” Anxiety said, nodding, “I’ll bring you one when they’re done, oh, and Deceit?”

“Yes?” Janus asked, looking back up, he had almost gone to walk away, not realising the conversation wasn’t over.

“I promise never to intentionally cause you harm of any kid,” Anxiety said, “And I promise you will always be protected in my presence and our house.”

Oh, Janus thought as a similar wave of magic washed over him to when Prince made an almost identical promise, though Anxiety’s magic was a refreshing cold, like the first snowflakes on skin.

“I- appreciate that,” Janus said eventually when he had recovered. Anxiety just nodded with a knowing smile before going back to his baking. Leaving Janus to stare in surprise for a long moment before turning and leaving the kitchen.

---

General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #janus sanders #anaroceit #anaroceitweek2023 #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic

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sashaisready · 4 months

Text

Chapter Eight

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

WARNING: Huge TW for sexual assault/implied rape by secondary character in this chapter. It's not described with details but please skip if you need to

Your eyes flew open and you took a moment to gather your bearings. You were feeling much warmer than you usually were in bed, it was only then that you noticed the firm arm wrapped around you.

Lee.

You rolled over to face him. You must've drifted off as you were still clad in your lingerie. It felt wrong to be wearing it so early in the morning. You could feel your gusset was sticky with the spend from last night's venture. Lee must've put his arm around you at some point in the night which made you feel warm inside.

He was still in a deep sleep, snoring lightly. He looked so innocent while he slept, a far cry from the slightly scary man in his Sheriff uniform. His features were so much softer like this, his eyelashes long, his cheeks chubby. You couldn't resist running a finger under his jaw, desperate to touch him.

Lee stirred, turning to you as he woke. He smiled.

"Well ain't you a sight for sore eyes". His voice was lower than usual and croaky with sleep. You liked it.

"Good morning Lee" you sang, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and nuzzling into your hair. It all so was comfortable, relaxed – you could get used to this.

"Have you gotta be up for work or should I fix you some breakfast?" you asked sleepily, his heated embrace making you drowsy again.

"Ain't gotta be in 'til eleven thirty today so breakfast sounds swell".

You made a noise of recognition and sat up to go get started on some eggs, but a strong hand tugged you back down into the mattress.

"Not so fast. I'm in the mood for a different kinda breakfast first" he teased as you shrieked and surrendered to his touch, melting into him.

🌼

Breakfast was nice. After going another round in the bedroom, you had made eggs and coffee for you both while Lee read the morning paper. You plated up at the table while Lee absent-mindedly ran a finger up your arm without looking up. It all felt very natural, very easy.

You talked for a while as you ate, the longest you had gone without kissing or touching since this whole thing had started. You were surprised to find you actually had things in common, the conversation flowed easily between you both.

Lee was feeling content. A beautiful woman hadn't made him breakfast in a long time, and the truth was he liked being with you. He liked having sex with you. He liked talking to you. He was content to see where it went.

He had even stopped driving out to Tecumseh to visit the working girls. He didn't need to now he had you. And funnily enough, despite their occupation, you were actually dirtier and more adventurous then most of them put together. Probably better for the Sheriff campaigns, too.

It was clear you still had some baggage and hang ups from your husband but that was to be expected. A year wasn't that long, after all. So he understood you might be feeling guilty or unsure. He'd certainly moved on from his ex-wife, but being a widow was a bit different to divorce.

What he couldn't wrap his head around was your husband's reluctance to fuck you, or thinking of you as a whore for wanting it. What kind of man doesn't want to have sex with his pretty wife? His pretty wife who is eager to explore all that sex has to offer, who is so keen to experiment and embrace pleasure that she reads dirty books in bed and touches herself before she goes to sleep?

A foolish man, he thought.

Still, the husband's loss was his gain. He was reaping all the rewards of your forced celibacy, and he was more than happy to help out. The great thing was you were just as attracted to him as he was to you. You didn't merely tolerate him, but enjoyed him – desiring every inch him, love handles and all.

"So, when you gonna let me take you out on a real date then?" Lee asked suddenly.

You choked on a mouthful of coffee, swallowing it down quickly. "W-what?" you asked.

Lee was unfazed. "You heard me. We could go somewhere nice. Get dressed up. And we wouldn't have t'sneak around no more".

You thought for a moment, "I'd like that...but what would they say?"

Lee shrugged. "Who cares what they fuckin' say?"

You chewed your lip as you mulled it over. It would be nice to go out on a real date with Lee, and you couldn't pretend you hadn't thought about dating him and doing more than just sleeping together. Part of you had a niggling fear that something wasn't right about him. But what could dating hurt? You could always break it off if it didn't work out.

"Okay" you smiled at him, "You're on. Where you taking me?"

Lee smiled back, taking a final sip of coffee and getting to his feet. "There's a new restaurant a few towns over we could try. Wednesday night maybe?"

You nod enthusiastically, trying to hide your excitement so you don't seem too keen. "I'm working the afternoon shift at the diner but if you don't mind a late dinner I can be home and ready for eight?"

Lee put his jacket on. "Great. I gotta get goin' so I can clean up and change before my shift. But I'll see you Wednesday night".

"It's a date" you replied.

Lee rounded the table and gave you a kiss as he headed to the front door. "Thanks for breakfast, sweetness. And for last night".

You smiled to yourself as he left, already wondering what you should wear for Wednesday night.

🌼

Wednesday came around quickly and you were even more excited about your date with Lee as your shift had been a nightmare. Demanding customers, burnt food courtesy of the cook you suspected had snuck a joint in his break, small tips and the cash register was inexplicably down $7.50 which of course you were blamed for. You needed a palate cleanse from this terrible day.

You had stayed late to lock up as your co-workers scattered. On Wednesdays the diner always closed early. Something to do with the old owner doing it years ago because of his church group meetings, and the current owner adopting that tradition just because. Classic small town routine and ritual. It was amazing how quiet everything was past 7pm – all the businesses closed up and there was no sign of any life except the bar on the edge of town. It was dark, eerie. But you checked your watch, still plenty of time to get home and get ready in time for Lee.

You got into your car ready to shoot off back to your house but the damn thing wouldn't start. Of course it wouldn't! The cherry on the shit sundae of today. You kept turning your key over and over trying to get it to run but no joy, it sounded like the engine had flooded as it stuttered and spat.

You groaned in frustration. Yours was the only car left in the lot, everyone else had gone home. You got out the car and had a look around to see if there were any cars nearby or locals who could help you out but there was nobody to be seen. It was as if the town had been evacuated suddenly without you noticing.

You realised your only course of action was to unlock the diner, go back inside and call Lee to tell him what had happened. You could kick yourself for your bad luck.

As you wrestled the diner keys back out of your purse and started on the locks, you noticed the sheen of headlights approaching. It was a police cruiser.

You gasped, was this Lee saving the day? What were the odds! Maybe he'd decided to pick you up from the diner instead. You flagged the cruiser down excitedly.

As the car drew a stop outside the diner you realised it wasn't Lee, but a much appreciated face all the same.

"Deputy Davey!" you exclaimed. Thank goodness. You felt the relief wash over you as you relaxed.

Davey rolled down the window and rested his elbow on the car door. "You okay here, ma'am?"

"Deputy, thank goodness" you told him breathlessly as you rushed towards him. "My car ain't starting and I need to get home. Any chance I could trouble you for a lift?"

Davey smiled wobbly at you. You couldn't put your finger on it but something seemed...off about him.

"Sure thing, little lady. Hop on in".

Was he...slurring?

Surely not. Not Davey. He was the most professional cop on the force. He had been there for you when Arthur died. He was married to Julie. Kind Julie who held your hand in the grocery store.

You grinned at him and slipped into the back of the cruiser, relieved that you wouldn't be late for Lee.

"Thanks for this, you've really saved me!" you told Davey as he set off.

Davey smiled crookedly, watching you in the mirror. "You're welc-hic-welcome" he stumbled.

"You got a case of the hiccups huh?" you laughed, slightly nervously. Something wasn't right here. You felt dread settling in.

"Fine. Allfine, don'tchoworry about me...honey".

You were right. He was slurring.

You managed to laugh breezily, trying not to show him that you were nervous.

"Uh...busy night tonight Davey?" you asked casually.

He grinned at you sloppily in the mirror reflection. "Mmmm. Just responded t'call out at the bar. Y'know how it is".

You nodded. "Did you uh...stop to have a drink there too?"

He laughed. "Just a coupla beers, honey. Nothin' t'worry 'bout".

It was clearly more than just a few beers. You could smell the whiskey permeating through the suffocating air of the car. You felt the dread settling in the pit of your stomach. But you were nearly home now. Just a teeny bit longer and you'd be home. And Lee would be there, and all would be alright.

Until he sped past the exit for your street.

"Uh...Davey. That was my turn off..." you exclaimed, the nerves starting to show.

Davey said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Davey?" you asked again.

Still no response.

"Look, if you let me out right here that's fine. I'll walk the rest of the way. Thanks again for the ride".

You rattled the passenger door handle, but of course you can't open police cars from the inside if you're in the backseat.

"Fuck" you muttered. You were now really scared. You could feel the hairs on your arms standing on end.

"I can think o'a few ways you can thank me for the ride" mumbled Davey.

You looked up to the mirror to find his eyes staring back at you. They looked dead, dark. Like the eyes of a shark.

"Just let me out the fucking car Davey and nobody has to know about this" you spat, trying to sound authoritative but coming off more pleading.

"I've seen the way you look at me" he garbled.

"What?" you spat.

"I've seen it. You're always smilin' at me. I know you want me..."

"You're drunk. You don't know what you're talking about. Just pull over, now". Your heart was beating painfully in your chest. Every sense felt heightened.

"Don't play hard to get" he mumbled.

"This is ridiculous, stop! What about Julie?" you shouted. Desperately trying the door again to no avail.

"What she don't know won't hurt her".

He pulled over abruptly onto a dirt road. Before you knew it he was climbing over the seats towards you, his eyes blazing with lust and anger. You began to scream, doing your best to fight him off. You managed to land a few blows but he overpowered you, flipping you over and tearing at your clothes, pummelling you.

You let your mind go blank, switching yourself off and closing your eyes. It was as if you left your body. You were no longer in the cruiser, you were home safe with Lee. Everything was okay.

Lee.

Your heart hurt as you thought about him, he was going to think you'd stood him up. That you didn't want to go on the date with him. But you did want to go. It's all you wanted.

But instead you had willingly stepped into the mouth of a wolf.

Arthur would probably say you had deserved this. How silly of you to act the way you had. Parading around town having sex with men you didn't know.

You're not sure exactly when Davey had finished but you eventually realised the car was moving again. He had returned to the front seat and was driving in silence. You slowly pulled your torn dress back over your head, wincing at the soreness which had enveloped your body.

He drove up to your front door and got out, stepping around to the back passenger side and opening it for you wordlessly. You slumped out into the cold air, refusing to look at him or acknowledge him as you sloped up to your house.

"One more thing, buttercup" Davey called out behind you. You didn't turn to face him, but stopped in your tracks. "Don't forget...nobody would believe you".

And you knew he was right.

#ee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader #Awakened fic

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

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Gender detransitioning: Ritchie Herron and Keira Bell share their stories | Free Speech Nation

Andrew: In both of your cases, I mean Richie's talking about struggling with being a gay man, you yourself were struggling with being a gay woman, and there have been whistleblowers at the Tavistock that have said the same thing, that actually sometimes parents are struggling with the idea of having a gay child. To what extent is there a kind of anti-gay or possibly even homophobic element to this situation?

Keira: I think it's pretty ingrained in the whole situation really, across the globe I mean, society in general is uncomfortable with it, and I think this is unfortunately considered a solution to an extent. Transitioning children is considered a better way to to live, but evidently it's really a really bad way to go.

Andrew: Can I ask you, Keira, how much information did the specialists give you when it comes to - I mean some of this surgery is so invasive and so irreversible, you had a double mastectomy, Richie had surgery on his genitals. This kind of stuff that cannot be undone, and how much information was given you in advance of what you would be going through?

Keira: Nothing besides very basic side effects, such as in my case, facial hair and a deepening voice, for example. I wasn't told about any of the real issues that would come later down the line. They were pretty much content with me saying that I've done a bit of research online and wanted to proceed, and they were pretty much happy with that.

Andrew: Ritchie, this whole situation strikes me as a very odd because in both of your cases, this diagnosis appears to have been rushed through without other avenues necessarily being explored. But activists will say that if doctors do explore those attitudes - consider for instance that you might be struggling with your homosexuality or some other depression or some other anxiety - that is branded “trans conversion therapy.” What do you make of that?

Ritchie: I mean, I really wouldn't know because I wasn't asked about all these things. It was just all assumed that this is part of my trans identity. And when I brought up the regret, or when I brought up any sort of maybe conflicted narrative as to, maybe I'm just a little bit too obsessive, it was all brought back into that transphobic society and the reason isn't you, it's everyone else, basically was the message that we got fed to us.

[..]

Andrew: Why do you think we've reached this point, where if a young child, a young girl has what are traditionally masculine tastes, maybe in football or that kind of thing, or a young boy is traditionally effeminate, that we have to somehow, that that's a problem to be fixed? Why can't we just let kids be kids, what do you think's happened there, Keira?

Keira: It's a good question. I think that's something I'm still trying to figure out. I'm not sure how really we're gonna kind of be able to co-exist in a positive way, just because it's always been frowned upon, in my experience. It's considered a problem once you go past puberty, you're not allowed to be a tomboy anymore, you're not not allowed to be a feminine boy. So, I think that's something that still needs to be figured out really.

Andrew: And Richie, I sort of understand the homophobia aspect, I don't approve of it obviously, but I understand that homophobia has been something that's been there for a long time, people are very uncomfortable with it and that prejudice can be sort of explained in a way. But what I don't understand is the idea that children that don't conform very strictly to 1950s stereotypes of what it means to be male and female should be “fixed,” I suppose, through medical intervention. Where do you think it's come from?

Ritchie: I believe it originated mainly from WPATH Standards of Care 7, where in 2011 we adopted the “affirmation only” approach, and that approach and model itself was funded by interests that would have benefited from it. And they have. And I do think the world does need to look at the organization WPATH, and we need an alternative to WPATH because a lot of this has also come from good intentions. Whenever there's a debate about trans women in sports or anything like that, it all comes from this space of people believe that they're doing the right thing, and I believe a lot of it comes down to this affirmation at all costs approach which originated in 2011.

[..]

Andrew: Us part of the problem that a lot of people, when they listen to the stories that you're describing, they sort of just can't really believe it's happening? The idea that there would be an NHS Clinic that would step in and effectively try and fix gay kids at the Tavistock? There was that dark joke among the staff that "soon there would be no gay people left." When we hear those sorts of things, it's difficult to believe them, but how prevalent is this?

Ritchie: I think the numbers speak for themselves. I think it was what, an 8000 percent increase in referrals over the last several years for young boys and girls to these clinics? But I do believe we are kind of approaching the other side of that, and I believe if we look at the numbers in the next few years, you'll see a drastic decrease, which I believe is happening as the trend is, I believe, coming to its life-cycle end.

Andrew: Can I ask about de-transitioning, though, to what people often say to me: but there aren't many detransitioners, there aren't many people who regret the surgery they went through. What do you make of that?

Ritchie: I obviously think that that is not true. I speak to a lot of detransitioners, I can speak quite well for the male side which is largely underrepresented because there's different dynamics at play, especially ones that want to speak out publicly. And I also believe that a lot of males, especially because of the way males are socialized, generally tend to go off and do their own thing and just go off and live their life. And that is a real healthy detransition, which is to separate yourself from the identity politics and just go back to your life, go back to normality, and go back to the things that are healthy and good for you.

Andrew: Keira, in the early days of the Tavistock, it was mostly boys, there weren't many but there were mostly boys who were coming in, struggling with their gender identity. But now it seems that predominantly this is affecting teenage girls. Why do you think this might be?

Keira: I believe it's been kind of viewed as an easy way out of just the struggles of female puberty, I believe. I believe that's a big one. Girls are becoming more and more aware of being objectified and different issues like that. So transition is kind of seen as a way to evade all of that. It can be very awkward growing up as a girl, and a boy, I'm sure, but I can only speak to my experience. And I know that I definitely jumped to any chance of evading the issues that I was going through as a result of puberty.

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public-trans-it · 1 year

Text

Fleurs de Mort

Content warnings for cults, death, suicide ideation, and mental trauma

A lot of people have a fairly common fear of death. I… kinda don’t. I have a pretty uncommon fear of death, I think.

For those not in the know, I used to be in a cult. Cult in several scare quotes. The creators never intended it to become a cult, and it was only meant to be like a study group for the overlap of occultism and the founders spirituality. Specifically around how their view of the afterlife was shaped by the three of them being Jewish people that got into occultism. I should stress that there were no fees or divisions of labor or any of the manipulation tactics that make cults dangerous, which is why I’m hesitant to actually call it one.

It was, however, in ever sense of the word a death cult, but not the kind you hear about in media. It was focused on growth, and suicide was considered the single worst thing a person could do. It was about exploring occult teachings to explore your own life in new ways, and grow to be more and more, because when you died you became something more. Something greater. And you required lived experiences to grow enough to survive in that new state.

The founders of the cult did a lot of work, filtering out people who had a mental state that might not mesh well with it. The first signs of depression or suicidal ideation and they would pull you aside and do their best to help you because they were well aware of how dangerous the subject matter was and none of them wanted blood on their hands.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really… interact much. I wasn’t that active a member. I just kind of observed passively. So there were no red flags, nothing they could have spotted or done to pull me aside and help me. They had no way of knowing what was happening inside my head, and how it changed me, at a fundamental level.

I ended up leaving, explain my mental health was in a bad state and it wouldn’t be safe for me to be around the subject matter much longer. The heads of the cult understood and wished me the best. We still talked for a while after that, played minecraft together a few times. Watched some movies. Just stayed friends for a bit before slowly drifting apart.

But the seed of that flower had already been planted deep in my mind, and had begun growing into something else. Blossoming isn’t the right word for what it did though. It constrained a part of my mind. All those teachings, all my neuroses, it bound them together tight and sealed them away in the back of my mind, repressed thoughts I forgot even existed until about a year ago. That became my first alter, the first hint of my DID as my mind fractured itself to stop the growth of that seed. It now lies dormant, pruning itself, culling away aspects of my personality that are unsatisfactory to it. The rest of us are slaughtered, rarely surviving more than a few months, torn apart and stitched back together as the pieces of us that fall away are used as the fertilizer for its growth.

The only time it awakens is long enough to stop me from pulling the trigger when things get to bad. It won’t ever help me fix my life, help me do the things I need to make the pain stop. Pain and suffering is inconsequential to it. They are just more lived experiences with which it can foster its own growth. As long as I don’t pull the trigger, as long as I don’t take that step off the edge, it doesn’t care what happens to me.

If I manage to fix my life and get it on the right track? Well that’s useful. Those parts make the best fertilizer for what it needs to grow, and so it cuts those parts away and digs its roots into them, hiding them away from me. It’s frustrating, and it makes life incredibly difficult.

The person I am changes so quickly, rebuilding myself out of the scraps it leaves behind. Making an identity or two out of the remains and hoping against hope that this time it’s functional enough to allow me to live without drawing its attention.

And so I’m left here, thinking about life, and about death. Most people fear death as an end. What if nothing exists after it? How horrifying, they think. My fear of death is far more complex. I’ve felt it so many times, felt my identity crumble and be ripped apart. If the death of my body was just that again, I have nothing to fear.

My fear, is that it’s not the end. My fear is this plant finally blooming, and what will happen after that. Will it take us with it? Will it leave us behind? Are we just a means to and end for it? Something to be discarded after this stage of our existence is over with?

I have lived with this thing in my head for nearly a decade now. And my fear is that only in death will I find out if it was the tether holding me together, or the parasite ripping me apart.

#anyway hey LDW if any of you see this… sorry #not trying to trash talk yall #you all did an incredible job #don’t take any of this personally #empty spaces #in case it wasn’t obvious this is nonfiction #a peak behind the curtain if you will

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hxhhasmysoul · 7 months

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YESSS, I agree with your Palm take 100%. Radioactive poisoning and Illumi's needle too, but I feel Palm was robbed. HxH already has dark content, so her creepy behavior doesn't bother me, but there were a lot of concerning implications about her and Knov relations, and potential for exploring some deep themes, and yet it was just brushed off like nothing

Yeah. I think with dark themes it's all about how they are framed. I'm not saying they have to be moralised and very explicitly condemned, I think writers should expect some level of understanding from their readers. But using themes like these as a joke really irks me because the misogynists will laugh with them while others will recoil from them and not give them any thought. Palm really got mistreated by Togashi and some of the fandom will double down on that.

Togashi really took all the awful misogynist tropes and rolled them into Palm:

hysterical woman driven by emotions and irrationality

+ women need calm and rational men to guide and control them

+ crazy girlfriend/woman in love

+ lol isn't it funny/cool that an adult woman pursues a boy

+ women hide their crazy and ugly under makeup

+ women can totally transform in a matter of seconds

+ women only think of romance

+ women are pathologically jealous

+ a makeover can fix a girl

+ a girl spy must use seduction

+ women are kinda incompetent

+ women will put men first

+ women can't understand their powers without a man

I'm not even sure I listed all of them... you can pack so much shitty cultural baggage into one character. And like packing this much wouldn't have been bad necessarily if the manga acknowledged how pathological Knov's behaviour is. If it showed that Palm projects all her issues onto Gon and it's not funny. Because in the situation Palm is in it makes sense that she would turn her interest to a "man" she finds safe. Adult women who pursue relationships with boys often do it because they consider them safe in their inexperience and easy to control. Also please understand that this is how they justify their behaviour and even if it stems from some deep trauma it's predatory and unacceptable. Even if Palms trauma was treated seriously, her behaviour towards Gon wouldn't have been okay. But maybe if she wasn't to be a sexist joke then also her interest in him would've been given the gravity it deserves.

#answering asks #hxh #hunter x hunter #palm siberia

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access--granted · 8 months

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Apologies for keeping this nonsense going, you must be exhausted, so I'm clarifying before I speak - delete this ask if you don't want to address this topic anymore.

Anyway, to offer a different perspective, I have personal substance issues. Life's been lifeing and I eventually turned to not-so-healthy coping mechanisms over the last few months. Fan fiction about this is my safe way of exploring my feelings about it. This widespread assumption that I need a handheld, sugar coated portrayal to cope is offensive. Shying away from difficult topics is censorship. Period. And it is a big issue because it carries a massive real-world impact on those who use fiction to escape. The same cowards criticising you will bang on and on about "representation in media", but won't note their hypocrisy.

I'm not a baby, I don't need the teletubbies to show up and remind everyone that Leon is flawless and a hug willl fix him. The fact that there's a new age approach that hails this crap as gospel, is more dangerous and harmful than one might think. I know it's stupid, but I am utterly fuming on your behalf.

That fic was the first gently thought out, yet brutally realistic piece I've found in AGES (this isn't pressure to repost!!). The fact you were bullied into believing you did something immoral just... it fucking irritates me to no end. I am so tired of this huge scream for censorship, I'm tired. Just don't engage if it triggers you, it's that easy. The rest of us adults have every right to explore darker aspects through fiction because it is SAFE. It's safe and it helps people. Talented writing is a life skill. It truly is. (Also on an amusing note: if they think me exploring his drinking habits is sinful, I would he sent straight to prison for the smut I read, lmfao!)

I'll end it by saying THANK YOU for the effort that you made. If it's better for your mental health not to post about that specific thing anymore, then please don't, but damn I'm not leaving without saying thank you for that honest portrayal of how addiction and alcohol dependency harms people and how it feels for everyone involved. You've got a talent and your empathy is very noticeable. Fuck these puriteens, lmao.

You have nothing to apologise for, anon. I'm certainly not going to shy away from talking about specific topics on my blog just because other people don't know how to ignore content they dislike. I already made the mistake of letting a bully get to me during a low point, resulting in the deletion of a piece I was both proud of and that had all-around mostly positive feedback anyway. I still appreciate your concern, though.

I completely understand that life has been lifeing, as it has been for me, too. I wrote that piece because I want my fics to be inclusive to a more widespread audience so that more people can relate. There's a lot of happily ever after fic out there, even some that completely ignore the struggles that happen in real life, too. So, I thought I'd write something different. I'm all for fluff, smut, romance, etc. But there is so much content for that already. I wanted to, and will continue to, add mature content to my writing, but not in the sense that it's always about getting Leon naked and doing the devil's tango with him.

I'd like to say also that it's not at all stupid for you to be fuming about this; I certainly am, and even more so for letting asshats get to me.

I'm happy that my representation of the issue was well thought out and realistic in your eyes. The thing I was most nervous about, to begin with, was getting things right. While I've never dealt with it personally, I had a very close friend who went through this, and many people left them behind. I will be reposting the fic at some point. I was proud of that work, and nobody will spoil it for me or anyone else who finds some kind of solace in reading it. (Also, same - like, why is exploring real-life struggles so outrageous, yet reading a crap ton of smut isn't? None of it should be a problem for people to explore.)

This topic is in no way detrimental to my mental health. I was just down in the dumps for personal reasons at the time anyway, lmao. Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm touched you think I have talent as a writer, and as a colossal empath, I'm glad it's clear to see.

#lees mail 📬#askbox: anon

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manonamora-if · 1 year

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coding gawds! i need ya help. im using vanya's template but i can't get the scroller bars to disappear when the screen is like big enough to get the whole text. and even when there's some scrolling some of them are just there but uselessss ;-; i can't deal....

Hi Anon!

Vahnya has released two different templates, so I'm not sure which one you are having troubles with... but I know I can fix this :P

Overflow and Scrolling

When a screen size is too small to accommodate all the content of the file, it is said that the contents overflow the container element. And to be able to see all of it, a scroll bar is essentially needed.

To show/hide a scroll bar on an element, you use the CSS rule overflow. For example:

body { overflow: auto; <- will only show the needed scrollbar overflow: scroll; <- ALL scrollbars show overflow: hidden; <- will hide the overflowing content overflow: visible; <- will show the overflowing content without a scroll bar }

I'm going on a limb there and say the overflow rule is set on 'scroll'. You can change that to 'auto' (or potentially remove it).

Note: the overflow should be contained to the element actually overflowing. In most Interfaces of Twine games (since they are built on the base UI), the body, #ui-bar and #ui-dialog-body should be the only one where this rule is needed.

Why Scroll and not Auto?

Essentially comes down to making it compatible with Internet Explorer. But IE is very rarely used nowadays, since Microsoft moved to Edge (and even before, let's be honest).

Scrollbar Customisation

Say you want to keep the scrollbar after all, but you'd want to tweak it to make it less visible anyway. You can customise it with some more CSS!

NOTE: Firefox and Chromium-based/Safary/Edge browsers have different rules.

FIREFOX

The scrollbar customisation has very few rules, and only two actually useful:

body { scrollbar-width: thin-auto-none; scrollbar-color: color-of-bar color-of-gutter; }

And that's essentially it...

You can add those two rules in whichever element that has overflow set.

CHROMIUM

You don't but those rules inside an element like Firefox, but as a separate entity.

::-webkit-scrollbar {width: 10px; height: 10px} ::-webkit-scrollbar-track {background: COLOUR;} [gutter] ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb {background: COLOUR;} [scrollbar] ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:hover {background: COLOUR;}

These are usually the most used ones out there, but you can find the whole list of selector here.

They will apply to the whole page, unless you add a certain element before the webkit, like this:

#ui-dialog-body ::-webkit-scrollbar {}

Have fun !!

#coding support #scrollbar #css #coding in twine

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tirorah · 10 months

Text

My picks from the June 2023 Next Fest

In June 2023 there was another Steam Next Fest, and I've finally managed to play all of the demos I'd selected.

Keep in mind that these are my highly personal picks; I mostly explored the turn-based RPG category, as I'm currently not feeling up to much direct action, brain-breaking strategy, etc. (And certain genres are so popular that some good demos will be reported on anyway.)

So, without further ado, here are the games that I liked this time around!

The setup for this one is quite straightforward: You play as one of three heroes-in-training and embark on an important quest through the fantasy land of Alteria. Pretty standard stuff, but it stands out in two ways:

Choosing your hero isn't a simple character swap; it's a perspective shift. These are branching storylines and each character has their own challenges to overcome. And because there are choices for you to make, it's interesting to see how you shape your chosen hero compared to the version you see when you're not in control of them.

This is also a very well-rounded experience. Gameplay is smooth and intuitive, presentation is great, etc. I especially liked how efficient the script is; dialogue makes sense and there are no long world-building monologues to be seen. I encountered some bugs, but those were symptoms of an early build and some of them have already been fixed.

Release date: In Early Access by now, 20% off until 12 July

Yes, this is a meme game, and sometimes you can really feel that, especially in the opening minutes. But this game has genuine charm to it. Sure, you die in one hit, but it's also a story about a wimp slowly learning to stand up for herself and work toward her dream. Crazy, but heartfelt at the same time.

As for gameplay: combat is turn-based and takes place on a grid, where each move expels one turn. The tactical challenge is to use positioning and your arsenal to bonk the enemy into submission before they can pulverise you. There's also an element of rhythm to it, as you need to time button presses to bonk your target more.

The beginning can be rough if you're not into the game's brand of insanity, but give it a shot anyway if you can. It was well worth it for me.

Release date: To be announced

A game about a time loop and the effect it has on a person. In a world that's frozen in time, it's up to Siffrin and their merry band of friends to defeat the King and save everyone. Easier said than done, though, and each failed attempt weighs on their spirit...

A really charming game, with clearly-defined characters, good group dynamics, and an arresting art style. The battle system is Active Time turn-based, but what's super fun is the damage types: Rock, Paper and Scissors. Yes, really. You need to analyse an enemy's appearances or their method of attack to figure out their weakness.

It also has a big focus on mental health though, so make sure to check the content warning section on the itch.io page before playing this.

Lastly, I should mention there's a prototype for the game, called Start Again: A Prologue. This is a somewhat short experience, basically a proof of concept that turned into a complete game. You can buy this if you're interested.

Release date: 2023

Do you like tabletop RPGs? Then this one could be for you! You take control of one of six groups of adventurers, each on a pilgrimage for their own reasons. It's up to you to guide them through a dangerous world...with your faithful dice!

I honestly needed more time with the story and characters to really get a feel for if I liked them or not, but the gameplay is, simply put, engrossing. Dice rolls play into every aspect of this game, from exploration to dialogue checks to combat. Playing this game truly feels like a journey full of potential secrets to uncover.

If you decide to try this game, be warned that this is still in development (like all of these demos). I found the UI rather rough to work with. This is being worked on and I'm confident there will be many improvements in this area.

Release date: Q4 2024

I was a few minutes into the demo when I entered my first battle. A big, red WARNING sign pulsed on my screen, and a giant robotic bee appeared out of a sci-fi hell portal. The protagonist hefted her gun, brandished her sword, and sprung into action as the battle theme started pounding in my ears. I grinned.

LunarLux is a prime example of how a strong visual and aural style can immediately capture one's attention. Fortunately, that's not all it has going for it. While the script isn't that tight and the characters seem rather standard for now, the gameplay is just a whole lot of fun.

Although this is a turn-based system, fighting involves timed blocking and grid-based dodging. And there's a factor of resource management as well; you'll need to work out how to go on the offensive without running out of MP and shield charges. This is not only essential to keep yourself alive, but also factors into your battle rating. Want an S-rank on this fight? Then don't get hit.

Oh, and you have a jetpack that you can fly around with. Just to let you know.

Release date: 2023

This one is an interesting recommend from me, as I found myself stymied by a progress-stopping bug 30 minutes into my playthrough. That's a pretty bad oversight, and yet I can't say it soured me on the game. All it did was cut me off, and that's a shame.

This one has no combat system; instead, the primary gameplay loop is about exploration. You can use your tracking skills to find animals in need and befriend them, and you can piece together clues to solve the secrets of the land.

The narrative has a rather standard mystery setup, but what makes it stand out is the setting: ancient India. This lends the game a completely different feel from a lot of other fantasy RPGs. The time period (and great soundtrack) gives everything a mystical feeling, while the location gives us oft-underutilised cultures to work with.

I want to see more of this.

Release date: 2023

Much like Luminera, I need more time with the story to see how it'll pan out; as it stands, the demo is a true vertical slice and just drops you into the middle of things while avoiding spoilers. The characters definitely have some personality to them though; I liked them.

I have no other criticisms; the game looks and sounds great, and because you can climb and swim around, there's more verticality in the environment design compared to most of the other games on this list.

Combat is smooth and fun; it's turn-based, with each of the three characters getting one action per turn, the order of which you can decide yourself. Each action you take also reduces the action counter for each enemy; deplete it to 0, and the enemy will attack. Sometimes they'll have a big attack charged up, and you'll need to hit them with certain damage types to either reduce the attack's power or cancel it entirely. You can also time your button presses for blocking enemy attacks and increasing the power of your own, but this isn't mandatory.

Finally, there are equippable relics that alter the game experience. The demo has two: one makes the game easier, and the other provides clearer feedback for timing button presses correctly. This kind of modular difficulty is great and more games need it. Especially if you consider how many of the games on this list feature timed button presses; great for interactivity, not so great for accessibility.

Release date: 29 August 2023

Last but certainly not least, it's...not a turn-based RPG at all. No, this is a visual novel. But it's a damn gripping one for me!

Your character is a newly-transferred security officer on a small ship: the JFS Gun-Dog. Your mission? Reconnaissance and backup. But of course, nothing is ever that simple; things are afoot. I don't know what things exactly, but I sure want to know! And your character's traumatic past won't make the challenges you face any easier.

There's a somewhat lengthy tour of the ship for character introduction and world-building purposes. Obviously, if you're playing a visual novel, you should expect copious amounts of words. It's just not the most elegant way to handle things. However, I believe the great atmosphere, interesting characters and narrative are worth it, and there were plenty of fun moments during that section.

Note: The Steam page refers to the main character as male, but you can choose your name and pronouns (he/him, she/her or they/them).

Release date: Coming soon

---

That's it for this particular Next Fest! Please give these demos a try if possible.

And remember: If you like what you see, wishlist the game in question! This helps out indie developers a whole bunch.

#gaming #steam next fest #alterium shift #hazuki dies: she has no name #in stars and time #luminera: the radiant journey #lunarlux #mayu: the last of the yaksha #sea of stars #stories from sol: the gun-dog

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