#I kept it vague purposefully because I wanted the reveal to happen when they share their names

[stressed-depressed-andobsessed]

Snippet I had to evict from my brain

"You are not to protect me for the rest of the day. You will leave me and find an activity that will occupy your time that does not involve chivalry." The King turned to leave, pausing for a second to throw in one last thing over his shoulder, " It will do you some good to be away from my side."

He grabbed his wheels, rolling himself down the hall, but stopped by the sound of fast stomping coming towards him from behind. He stiffened under the feeling of cold metal digging into his arm.

He looked up and caught the mirrored expression of surprise accompanied by a slight bit of horror in his Knight's face. Their eyes met before both dipping down to look at the metallically gloved hand that gripped his arm.

Suddenly regaining his composure, the Knight removed his hand. So quickly, you would have thought the mere contact had set his hand ablaze.

They stared at nothing in particular as the air around them became tense. The Knight was the one to finally break the silence. "I apologize for touching you without your expressed permission, my Liege. That was out of turn."

"It is alright, I suppose. No harm done." The King would rather have been beheaded in front of a vast audience than admit that the touch wasn't entirely unpleasant. "Did you have something you would've liked to say?"

The Knight clasped his hands behind his back, whether to hide his nervous fidgeting or to make sure there were no more incidental touching was unknown to them both.

"What am I to do if you get hurt while I am away? I am your right hand man, it is my duty to ensure your safety!"

The King stifled a chuckle at the subtle pout from his typically serious Knight, "Please do not fret, Sir, I can assure you that I will be ok until the next sunrise. I greatly appreciate your long-standing loyalty to me and that's why I insist that you take a break. Go on and find something that pleases you."

The King put on a small smile, hoping that would help to sway his Knight to see his point. His charm did always assist in calming even the most benevolent rogue men. This, for whatever reason, did not work to placate the Knight, on the contrary, it seemed to embolden him further. His hands came back into view, the King watched with confusion as the Knight clumsily fumbled with the metallic glove. It fell to the ground as he also unfastened the other.

The metallic gloves clanged against the floor as they dropped, but the King didn't pay any mind to it. He kept his focus on the Knight, he watched one of the unprotected hands hover above his shoulder. A couple beats went by before he gathered the courage to make contact.

The warmth was a stark difference from the cold metal.

The Knight kneeled down, because of the wheelchair - along with the fact that the Knight held a couple inches over the King whenever they were both standing - they were now basically eye level with each other.

His other hand crossed over his heart, that typically serious look once again painted his face. The King was a bit taken aback. This position, it signified a true vow, a solemn swear, that the word of the Knight was not only fact, but a commitment made deep from the soul. Usually these vows were made betwixt his fellow swordsmen, a promise between men.

The fact that he was making this swear to a person outside of his chivalric order, someone who held a significant amount of power over him, meant something.

The King didn't want to think about what that something meant.

Nor about why his heart decided to react the way it did.

"Being by your side, protecting you with every ounce of my being, is what pleases me most, my King. To know that I am the knight that bestows the honor of keeping you safe brings me the utmost satisfaction."

Wow.

Was this a Knight that stood before him or a poet?

The King regained his composer the best he could, being starstruck would not be a good look for a royal. Surely, he didn't mean all that in an informal sort of way. Any sort of relationship outside of Superior/Inferior between the royal family and their soldiers was strictly frowned upon and could be described as a major power imbalance.

Understandably so, a royal could use their power over a soldier to force them into committing vile deeds. To make them do actions that would normally be outside their moral zone, all out of a fabricated version of love and care.

Of course, that kind of manipulation could occur outside of an intimate relationship. Any sort of slight intimidation from a royal could have a townsperson kneeling beneath them.

Which brought the King's thinking back to the Knight kneeling in front of him.

He rested his hand upon the Knight's, "I would like that you take some semblance of a break while you only wish to stay at your post. That is a tad bit contradictory, ain't it?"

The King let himself slip into his 'improper' way of speech. Just so his Knight might feel comfortable with the idea he was about to propose.

"Maybe we can strike a deal? One that'll make us both happy?" He paused to allow time for the Knight to absorb his words. A tilt of the head and a slight furrow of the eyebrows signaled him to elaborate. "How about we spend the day together? Not as King and Knight, but as companions."

Platonic relationships were just as frowned upon as romantic partnerships, but he could easily play off their friendly date as patrolling the town for strange activities.

He knew of a quaint little tavern that had some treats that needed investigating.

"What do you say to that, Sir Hagakure?" He didn't notice it at this exact moment, but at some point during his thought process, he moved the Knight's hand into his lap and clasped it betwinxed his own. He also conveniently didn't notice the slight darkening of the Knight's cheeks, "Or shall I refer to you as Sir Yasuhiro?"

The Knight blinked, processing all the different sensory input and words being thrown his way. The intimacy of his first name being said, especially in his King's husky voice, made a nervous smile spread across his face. His other hand went to rub his neck as he attempted to stutter out some kind of coherent reply.

"I-I accept! That sounds truly splendid! To spend the day with you would be a privilege, My Liege!" He tucked one of the loose dreads behind his ear and broke their eye contact, "And... You may refer to me as Hiro."

"Very well, I'll call you Hiro and you will call me Daiya."

[stubbornness-and-spite]

A Time for Secrets and a Place for Truth

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: There were a million ways it could have gone and a million reasons why. Is this the one that happened or just another sweeter lie? But of the two who they knew would speak, only one had a liar’s sweet tooth. So let’s pretend for just a moment, that this is the place for truth.

AKA: Anxiety and Deceit(or is it Virgil and Janus?) have a much needed talk

Pairings: platonic anxceit, I guess you could read it as past-romantic

Characters: Virgil, Janus, all others mentioned

Genre: conflict resolution, offscreen hurt/onscreen comfort

Warnings: vague spoilers for POF

Notes: implied to have happened after POF but I’m purposefully not clear, self-repost because I found out that it won’t show up in the tags if the original has a link. Check my masterpost for AO3 links(pinned on my blog)

There were a million different ways it could have happened and a million different things that could have triggered it, but everyone knew it was coming.

Everyone knew that eventually the tension between Virgil and Janus(they knew him as Deceit when they first thought it, but eventually, even in their own minds, they started calling him Janus. Some took to it with grace, some with nonchalance, and some with scorn, but they did and it happened and that much none of them would argue with) would come to a head.

They all knew it.

If some of them had been a little bit worse, they would have bet on when and where. If some of them had been a little bit better, they wouldn’t have.

They could have considered their knowing to be speculation, but it was more than that. It was inevitable.

And since they all knew, it hardly even needed to be said.

But it was. And it went something like this:

~

“You told me I could never be anything other than a villain,” Virgil spat, advancing on Deceit with each accusation. “You told me I could never be anything but hated. You told me that no matter how hard I tried, the only way they would ever love me was if I was someone else. Remember that? Do you really expect me to forgive you?”

Deceit pointedly didn’t flinch. He looked at Virgil with that patronizing expression that Virgil had always hated, that had tainted the best parts of his relationship with Patton because, at their core, Morality and Deceit were far too much alike. “Because of course, I, Deceit, am a beacon of truth and honesty,” he sneered, nodding. “You should trust every word I say.” He didn’t hesitate. Hesitation was for cowards. “I don’t care about you. Why would I make up what I thought I needed to say to get you to stay?”

Virgil gaped at him, “You, better than anyone, knew how miserable I was.” It wasn’t a confession. There was very little left that Virgil could say to Deceit that would be considered a confession. After all, it wasn’t a confession if the other already knew. “Why would you want to guilt me into staying? Did you really think I would ever forgive you for that either?”

“Of course I did.” Deceit was very still. Virgil knew his physical tells, after all. “I knew you would forgive me for anything I said. I just wanted to hurt you.” He couldn’t keep his voice from softening anymore than Virgil could keep from understanding his true motivation.

“You were afraid.”

Deceit smiled, giving in to the inevitability of Virgil learning the truth. “Me? Never.”

Anxiety scoffed, “I’m Fear as much as you are Denial,” he whispered. “I know when someone’s afraid.” He let his voice grow stronger and gave away one of his last confessions. “I couldn’t tell before because I was so afraid all the time.” He thought he knew all there was and how much he should fear it. He thought he knew the truth, but Deceit always had been good at his job. “What did you have to be afraid of?”

Deceit let his voice shake and his breath catch. There was a time for secrets and a place for truth. This was not the time but it was the place. “I was absolutely not afraid of being alone,” he lied. The truth scared him, far more than he would admit and even as he gave away his secrets, Deceit clung to the security of lies. They always did taste sweeter and sound better. “I wanted you to leave and I wanted to do my job without you there to get in the way. You really did me a favor, so thanks, Anxiety.”

“Falling back into old habits?” Anxiety taunted.

Deceit scoffed. “Like you’re not.”

Virgil took a breath and burst out, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Dee, but I won’t apologize for picking myself for once and leaving.”

Deceit laughed, long, loud, and uncensored. “Selfishness is awful and unhealthy, remember, Anxiety? I really can’t forgive you for it.” He frowned. “I never could stand you and I still hate you. I don’t trust you,” he choked out. Deceit stopped and shook his head. It was the place for truth. It was time to stop relying on what kept him safe before. It was time to stop being afraid. “I should have trusted you more. Virgil, I should have trusted you. I shouldn’t have taken your name and never offered mine.”

“Deceit. Stop.” Virgil lunged forward and grabbed his wrists, pinning him but making sure that his grip stayed on top of Deceit’s gloves and didn’t brush his skin. “You trusted me in the ways that mattered as far as you could.” They had never had a healthy relationship. They had never been able to trust each other unconditionally. It would do them no good now to pretend that they had ever acted in anything other than their own self-interest. “Keep your name. I always wanted to give you mine anyway but once there was nothing you could do with it, we weren’t talking anymore.” There was no point in pretending they had been something they weren’t, but there was no point in pretending that was all they could ever be either. “Tell me when you’re ready and if you want to tell anyone or everyone else first, then do it.”

“Thank you,” Deceit breathed out. “I wish I was ready to trust you more.”

Virgil smiled a bit. “Truth,” he accused.

“I really did love you, Anxiety. Not in the way you needed or the way that Patton and the others can or even unconditionally, but I did love you.”

Virgil ducked his head, biting back a laugh. “Yeah, Dee,” he said, letting go of his final confession, “Me too.”

~

None of them knew exactly why it happened because the only two who were there didn’t care to share, but they all knew that it happened and (to varying degrees of accuracy) how it happened.

Patton would insist it was after that first breakfast, when Roman was still hurting and Janus was still hesitant.

Logan would think that it happened before that, that the conversation between the two former friends had been what spurred Janus to reveal his name to them in the first place.

Roman would declare that he didn’t care when or why it happened, but privately, he and Remus agreed that it probably happened after Roman and Janus mended fences because Virgil was far more loyal to Roman than he ever was to Janus. Neither of them thought that was a bad thing or a good thing, but they agreed on it.

Janus claimed it never happened at all.

Virgil would admit it happened, but nothing more, only shooting Janus a look if pressed and biting back a smile

[sariahsue]

Unexpected Reveal

@bowser14456 Many eons ago, you requested “unexpected reveal” with Ladynoir. You may have forgotten, but I did not!  So here you go!

Cat Noir had three things: one paw print on his ring, a second paw print, and nowhere to hide.

No, make that four things: two prints, nowhere to hide, and a giant problem.

Throngs of people filled the streets in every direction, going back to their normal activities. Work and school and stores would soon be opening again. School! Cat Noir panicked as he raced back, hoping he could find an empty classroom before his timer ran out and someone noticed he was missing.

It was early winter. No one should have windows open, but there was one anyway, on the second floor, and the light behind it was off. An empty room. Perfect. One of his paw prints disappeared as he dove through the opening, did a perfect roll, and came up nose to nose with Ladybug.

Who gave the highest squeak he'd ever heard her make.

"Oh," he said. They were so close that the only bit of her he could see was her face, and he took a step backward, though he couldn't get very far in the cramped space. "So, uh, how have you been?" Ugh, stupid! You saw her less than a minute ago! "I mean, what are you doing here?" Another horrible question. She was hiding here in a janitor's closet for the same reason he was.

"Just... relaxing." The lie sounded awkward in her mouth. Her eyes rested on his hair instead of his face. "In my favorite spot, you know."

"Oh." He pretended to admire the shelves that lined both walls and adjusted a spray bottle of cleaner that was too close to the edge. He should be leaving. He shouldn't be wondering why Ladybug decided to transform in his school. He shouldn't be intruding on her privacy like this.

Instead he said, "It's a good spot. I like it," and then winced. Going along with what they both knew was an obvious lie was making it worse.

"It is, thanks," she said, staring at a spot above his head and digging them in deeper.

The window was still open behind him. He could just roll right out again and land face-first on the pavement and forget this horrible moment ever happened.

From the way her eyes flicked to the door, she was having similar thoughts. Should he take his chances and run into the hallway? There was an infinitesimally small chance that no one would be out there to see him transform, versus the 100% chance that Ladybug would see him.

He cleared his throat. "Well-"

"OKAY, OKAY!" she wailed. "I came here to transform! I come here all the time!" No sooner had she spoken than her earrings gave their final desperate beep, and pink light flashed, casting shadows across the mops and cleaning bottles.

"Nononono!" she said. "DON'T LOOK!" They weren't very far apart, so by the time the light slid up her legs to her waist, she'd already pushed her hands over his entire face and backed him sideways into the shelves. Something fell over as he tried to keep himself upright under her onslaught. He felt the exact second when the magic washed over her hands, whisking away her suit with a tingle, and leaving her bare fingers on his face.

The urge to kiss her palms was strong. They were right there, pushing against his lips, asking for it.

But he resisted.

"No, no, no," she pleaded softly. "Please, don't look at me, please."

Before he could give his answer that of course he wouldn't look if that's what his Lady wished, his own transformation dropped. The only real difference now was that they were both in danger, and, more importantly, Adrien could feel her fingertips pressing against his bare skin instead of his mask, and it was making his thinking go funny places.

"Please look," Plagg begged. "For my sanity, please."

"Don't listen to him," Tikki said. "It's very important."

Ladybug kept her hands on his face but dropped her head on his shoulder, lining up their bodies as she leaned into him. Adrien kept his hands at his very resolutely at his sides as he tried to balance her weight and keep them both upright.

"I promise to keep my eyes closed," he said.

Her hands didn't move.

Didn't she trust him? Or maybe she was just panicking and he shouldn't take it personally. Or maybe she wanted to be close to him for comfort and he shouldn't complain because it felt really nice.

When she spoke, her voice was muffled by his shirt, and he decided he liked how that sounded. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to walk to the door and open it," she said.

"Okay. With you so far."

"Then I'm going left, and you're going right. And we don't look at each other, and we never speak of this again."

He tried to push himself away from the shelves, so he could walk to the door like she had suggested, but she had no interest in letting him up. Sensing that it would be pointless to argue, he slid his way across the metal shelf, knocking several things off and pulling Ladybug along with him.

Brooms and mops had been propped against the shelves, and he wished he'd remembered that before he tripped over one. It caught him, yanking him down, and he twisted as he fell face first. Ladybug screeched as she tumbled backward, her hands moving from his face to grab onto his shoulders to try to keep them both upright.

His eyes flew open as the ground rushed toward his face. One hand reached out to catch himself, the other went behind Ladybug, to cradle her head as he fell on her. The knuckles of that hand scraped against the cold tile, but he barely noticed. Glass bottles smashed around them, while metal buckets crashed and scattered.

Ladybug's open eyes stared back up at him, unprotected by her mask. He was close enough to feel every anxious breath she took, fast and erratic. Freckles dusted her the parts of her face he'd never seen before, and somehow her eyes were even bluer than they were with the mask. They searched his face, taking in every inch of him as they lay there.

"Adrien?"

"Marinette?" he asked, finally recognizing her.

With a gasp, she pushed at his shoulders, desperate to get away from him. Frantically, he tried to move, but his feet slipped in the puddles of soap that surround them and sent his face crashing into her neck. Marinette twisted underneath him, squirming to pull herself toward the door, toward her escape, when it opened toward them all on its own.

Harsh light filled the small space.

"I KNEW IT," said Alya's familiar voice. "You two have been sneaking off together! I knew there had to be a reason you both missed every akuma."

Adrien crouched over Marinette, who was already half sitting up, her legs still trapped underneath him. Their eyes met, and he saw the same panic he was feeling.

They couldn't tell the truth. They needed to talk about this, come up with some kind of cover story. Maybe he should roll with it and ask Alya to give them some privacy. But the flush in Marinette's cheeks told him she wouldn't appreciate the insinuation.

"This isn't what it looks..." he started. Alya's skeptical look killed his dumb excuse.

"Actually," Marinette started, and his heart soared. Did she want to play along?

"No, this was an accident," she continued.

His heart crashed back down.

"But now that we're here..." Marinette stretched away from him, reaching for the door and snapping it closed on Alya's smug expression.

This time when he slipped, her lips were there to catch him.

***

(Vaguely inspired by a million other fanfics with nearly identical ideas of them accidentally/purposefully getting locked in small spaces together, and also that one time Perry White walked in on Clark Kent hiding in a supply closet, about to transform into Superman, and they shared some awkward chitchat until Perry slowly backed out of the room.)

Want to check out the other requests I’ve fulfilled?  Go right here!

[solynacea]

333: Pride, Gluttony, & Scars

Warning: This a very long post that contains character analysis and an as-of-yet unsubstantiated theory. I don’t blame you if you want to skim read, and there’s a TL;DR at the bottom.

I’ve seen a lot of posts about the events of the newest chapter of Nanatsu no Taizai; as someone who does manga edits, I spend quite a bit of time staring at panels and dialogue to figure out how to organize, what can be taken out, what should be left in, etc. And I’ve done the same with this chapter, pouring over the scenes of Escanor’s final moments again, and again, and I’ve seen a theory about Merlin posted by @derieri​, so I’d like to share my thoughts on the final words exchanged between Escanor and Merlin.

But first, let’s talk about blame. I’ve seen so much of it going around: Elizabeth should have healed him, Mael should have kept Sunshine, Meliodas should have kept him from fighting, and while those are valid complaints, they also subtract from and undermine Escanor’s character and the development of his arc. We learned from his gaiden that he thought he was a monster, unfit to live, a beast to be put down without remorse. It wasn’t until Meliodas bested him in combat and forced him to realize that his life was not his to do away with so carelessly that he began to live. And Escanor did what so many people with chronic depression/suicidal tendencies do: he latched onto his comrades as a reason to continue living.

Note: I am someone who suffers from the above conditions, so I am basing my analysis on that.

To Escanor, his very reason for being alive in his world was to protect the people he cared for, even if that meant losing his life in the process. And while he does care for the people of Liones — seen by him battling Estarossa to keep them safe and purposefully moving their fight to a lake to avoid hurting the knights nearby — the largest part of his world was the group of misfits who had become his friends. The Seven Deadly Sins were his family, the people he loved, the ones he would do absolutely anything for. Escanor did not see value in himself outside of as a tool to protect others; even without Sunshine, facing down an Indura spawn, he was willing to let it rip him to shreds to protect Gilthunder and the others. He was willing to die then. If Mael hadn’t intervened, he would have.

The long and short of what I’m saying is that, even without Sunshine, he would have found some way to put himself in that battle. We knew he was dying. It was shown in the blood he continued to cough up no matter how many times he was healed, in his disregard for his safety while fighting the Sinner at Camelot. His one regret when he thought he was going to die then was that he wouldn’t be able to continue protecting his comrades. Escanor, in his final moments, made two choices that those around him, who loved him, respected: he retook Sunshine to fight for his friends, and he burned up his life to keep them safe. (For those of you saying that Mael could have taken his place: yes. Or he could have joined in. But the Sins weren’t able to resist the Demon King without Merlin’s limit break magic, so whether or not him doing anything would have changed the outcome is debatable.)

Now that the bulk of my understanding of Escanor’s character is done, let’s move on to what originally prompted this post: his confession, and Merlin’s reaction to it.

While saying his farewell to the Sins and others, Escanor makes sure to acknowledge each of them in some way, whether by thanking them, apologizing, or asking for a favor. Or, in Ban’s case, getting in one final roast. What doesn’t he do? Downplay their grief. He fully acknowledges that his death is going to impact them all in some way, particularly not being able to attend King and Diane’s wedding. And when he gets to Merlin, he makes the confession of feelings she already knew he held. 

After which Merlin does what Merlin is best at: she deflects. This is a canonical character trait for her; whether making a vague mention of something (her love for Meliodas), or waiting until the last second to reveal pertinent information (her Infinity magic), Merlin is known to be powerful and mysterious. She’s cool, she’s unruffled. And that doesn’t change here.

What does change is how Escanor speaks to her. Up to this point, he has always been respectful, almost to the point of absurdity. He does not press her on anything, does not question her. Yet here we see him blatantly refuse to allow her to hide behind a half-truth. Did Merlin view him as a test subject? Yes. Merlin views everyone that way to some degree. But Escanor isn’t a fool, and he immediately shakes his head and tells her that his feelings for her exist regardless of her view of him. Which leads to this:

Her veneer cracks. Merlin has only appeared vulnerable to this degree at one other point, and that was the death of Arthur. Her cool demeanor falls apart whenever some she cares for is dying, and that’s what happens here. If you want to read her body language, she’s averting her gaze (hiding from him), crossing her arms (to get distance/hold her emotions in check), and digging her fingers into her coat (to retain control). The moment Escanor tells her that he doesn’t care how she sees him because it won’t change how he feels, she begins to fall apart. And what does she say? “You’re too late.” We’ll come back to that.

She continues by seemingly veering off topic. “Too late for anything, for everything . . . some things just can’t be taken back.” Now, quite obviously we have yet to get a full gaiden for Merlin. Some of her backstory has been hinted at, like the destruction of Belialuin, which seem to be what she’s referencing here. But there’s something odd about it, and as @derieri​ pointed out, the way she’s wording her sentences and the confusion of Meliodas and Elizabeth make it highly likely that she’s referring to something other than Belialuin’s fall while saying that it’s too late. She continues by saying, “Escanor, I wish you would have found me sooner . . . If possible, 3,000 years sooner . . .”

That’s a very specific time frame, given that the first Holy War ended exactly 3,000 years before this event with the sealing of the Demon and Goddess Clans and the curse put on Meliodas and Elizabeth. 

Here, Escanor directly acknowledges that there is something other than the sin that earned her the title of Gluttony. Merlin’s reaction?

Utter surprise and, by the sweat on her brow, horror. Whatever this sin is, it’s something that she’s tried desperately to keep hidden for centuries. Not even Meliodas, who she once loved, or Elizabeth, who she views as an older sister, know what it could be. When Escanor says that he doesn’t know the specifics, only that there was something else because she always looked so sad, we get a close up of her eye. Traditonally, this is a technique used whenever one character breaks through to another. It’s meant to bring us close to the character, to show those boundaries breaking down.

In this context, it means the boundaries between Merlin and Escanor are breaking down.

She goes silent after this while he says his final farewells, and doesn’t move until she goes to him and kisses him. There are three things that happen in those few panels that contradict Merlin’s established character: 1.) she moves towards someone, instead of having someone move to her; 2.) she acts on an impulse; and 3.) she puts herself directly in harm’s way. Merlin has been in battles before, yes, and she has suffered damage, but it is very rare for her to put herself so blatantly in danger when she doesn’t need to be. She could have told him she’d always remember him fondly. She didn’t need to burn her face as horribly, yet she did. 

Directly after the kiss, she says:

There’s an interesting word choice here that might not be obvious to non-native English speakers. Merlin does not say, “I do not reciprocate your feelings for me.” She says, “I was never able to reciprocate your feelings for me.” In other words, she doesn’t say she does not love Escanor. She says she’s unable to love him. And there’s a world of difference between those two. It’s the difference between saying you do not eat something because you don’t like it, and you aren’t able to eat something because there’s a reason, like an allergy. Something is prohibiting Merlin from returning his feelings, at least in a deep way.

This is the panel that first caught my attention. “As proof of your life, as proof that you existed, I’ll take these burns upon my body . . .” That is a lot of commitment for someone she claims to see only as a research subject. There’s another person we’ve seen sear their flesh to touch the person they care for, and that was 3,000 years ago, when Meliodas reached into a goddess barrier to cradle and comfort Elizabeth. Merlin is scarring herself so that no one, herself included, will ever forget Escanor. And furthermore, she’s doing it as a symbol of his love for her. 

Remember that point I said we’d come back to later? In the theory, it’s stated that Merlin sold Meliodas and Elizabeth out to the Demon King and Supreme Deity. Which, frankly, I think would be another level to the tragically beautiful story that is Nanatsu no Taizai, but from that come two possibilities: Merlin was punished for her hubris in daring to speak to the gods she betrayed by having her ability to love removed, or she removed it herself after the destruction of her home/the curse being placed. 

Tl;dr: Merlin did, in some way, love Escanor, but whether through her own means or outside interference was unable to reciprocate it fully.

[hyba]

Hi! So! I have a question: Recently in my writing, I've been trying to make it a bit more unique, making it a more interesting read. I've noticed in your works, you are incredible at adding in unexpected details or twists, etc. Do you have any tips on how to keep your writing different and interesting without just reams and reams of description and that sort of thing?

Hi!! ^^ It’s always awesome to hear from you so thank you so much for dropping by my inbox - and thank you even more for this super cool question!!! And for thinking of me - I’m absolutely flattered! I took some time to respond because I really wanted to make this as good and thorough as possible, and I do hope my advice helps!! ^^

I’m probably best at writing that sort of thing when I’m working with suspenseful pieces or with really short pieces - like those snippets that I love to share every now and then! My piece with the mortician and the little girl immediately comes to mind, as well as the "Brittle Teeth" short story. I have to admit that writing suspense or horror or disturbing stuff (like I tend to write) will give you an advantage right off the bat, because most of the time readers are already intrigued by the subject matter itself. 

Here are some ways that I try to make twists happen and add intriguing bits of information that really pique the reader's interest.

Number One: Peel Back the Layers

I think my go-to technique when it comes to making those little surprising twists is sharing information in waves. So, if we take the snippet with the mortician and the girl, which you can find here, I give pieces of information about the characters and what is happening in degrees:

The woman is brushing the little girl's hair, braiding it. She compares it to her own daughter.

"Something" is revealed to have happened, but we don't know what.

The girl is described, and the description becomes more morbid and revealing as the paragraph progresses - ending with a detail that makes it evident the girl is dead.

Wrapping up this little snippet - making it clear the girl is dead and establishing the woman's connection to her - and then connecting it back to the start, to the woman's own daughter as she leaves work.

As you can see in this example, there's a definite progression in terms of the information that I choose to give the reader. I don't tell them right off the bat that the girl is dead; nor do I tell them what the woman's relation to the girl is, or what has happened. This helps create a sense of mystery - a little something that tugs at the reader's mind, that makes them want to keep reading and find out what's going on. 

I find that the information hits harder when it's drawn out and not given in one go - when you increment what you let the readers know or figure out. Another example that I think employs this is my Hangman snippet. 

Number Two: What's Your Secret?

This one I use along with the first technique often. But whereas the first technique is all about revealing information in layers, this one is all about keeping information to yourself and hinting at it throughout your writing. I guess these two techniques could be considered one and the same, except that they're sort of opposites for me in terms of process, because I tend to uncover layers with the first technique as I write (so I'm writing from a point of discovery), while I have a piece of information that I am deliberately trying to keep under wraps and hint at with this second technique (so I'm writing from a point of knowledge, and purposefully doling out only bits and pieces of relevant information). So this is basically the reverse of the first trick, and in this situation the information is never revealed or kept until the very end - or revealed in a very vague way that still leaves room for mystery. 

So, for example, in the Hangman snippet, there's a part where I mention Hangman has an "albatross" around his neck, and that when he nods it's an "odd, jerky movement". The reader can probably surmise that he's been hanged - if not from the name alone then at least with that additional information. Why was he hanged? That's a question I don't answer. And the little girl is even more of a mystery. She has blood on her dress. She's hanging out with a hanged man. She calls him her friend. People pass by and don't notice them. What happened to her? Why is she there? What is their relationship, really? More questions I don't answer (unless you read my little notes - and even then!! ^^).

I find that writing this over a longer piece than just a simple snippet gives you more of a chance to really build that up and that mystery is what drives a lot of stories - the need to find out what the truth is. It also gives the reader a sense of satisfaction when they finally get to find the answers to their questions. But personally I find that I always want more when there are still questions that are unanswered - sort of like all those unsolved mysteries you can read about online! There's a reason people never get tired of them, I think, so when done well, this technique and deciding to withhold certain information and only hint at it can be very effective in capturing the reader's interest. 

Number Three: Like It's No Big Deal

Another technique I use in my writing is to introduce new and somewhat shocking or disturbing information in a very nonchalant way, like it's no big deal. This actually ties in really well with the idea of description because that's where you want to tuck in your little tidbits - right between all that mundane description where it can really stand out. 

For example, I'm going to describe a scene:

"The bed had been made with special attention to detail - not a single wrinkle was present on the pristine cotton sheets. The desk, while cluttered with various objects of interest - no doubt to do with the professor's unholy research - was organized in such a fashion that the mess would look almost orderly, were it not for the thick liquid coating everything. Books lined the shelves above the desk, countless leather-bound volumes and hardcover texts threatening at any moment to burst out of the tight confines of their thin wooden encasement. The glass covering was a fortunate detail - it had protected them from most of the blood. Intermixed within these priceless books were various notebooks, filled with the professor's observations and discoveries."

I've started off with a really simple, ordinary, mundane description - the bed, the desk, the bookshelves - but tucked in within that description are key words and features that probably stand out right away for the reader because they're not normal. First we have the "objects of interest" and the "unholy research" they seem to be related to. In this paragraph I think that's the best example of this idea of tucking information in there nonchalantly, and moving on before you can linger on it for too long and spill all of the secrets that go along with that piece of information. 

Then there is the "thick liquid" that's covering everything on the desk. And finally, there's the spray of blood that has been splattered onto the bookshelves. Those are at the end, and they're the most explicitly stated, so they probably stand out even more than the other details. And, if you notice, the information is given in such a way that it gives you more and more to go on as you read the passage - using a bit of that first/second technique that I shared previously.

All of the above details are something that will point you in the direction of one very important fact: someone was either killed or gravely wounded in this room, probably over the desk. Because it's the professor's room, it was probably him. We might be looking at this from the police or detective's perspective. And we know that the professor was up to some shady research, and that there are strange items in his room related to that. An astute reader might want to know what kinds of objects they are, what they have to do with the professor's research, and if there's a missing item -- and if so, if that was the reason for the crime against the professor.

So there's a lot that can be conveyed and elicited with just one paragraph. To make my writing interesting, I try to think about the reader and what kinds of questions I want them to have at this point in the story. Here are some of those questions:

Where do I want the reader’s attention to be? 

How do I get them there?

What's the most interesting thing about this setting / character / situation? Let's focus on that!

What are some questions and mysteries that I purposely want to leave until the end?

How can I draw out this scene so that the reader can really bask in this revelation/piece of information? 

Addendum: On Description

I personally have trouble adding description, so what little of it I do apply is really minimal and to-the-point (because I have found that otherwise, I tend to ramble, and that's not much fun!). I've read lots of advice posts about writing horror and mystery, and I think one of the common tips that they give is to not describe things too much, because it takes away that layer of intrigue that you're trying to cultivate. It turns out this is how I write anyway, so I can say for certain that this is a technique that works for me. 

So, if I'm trying to describe a monster, I'll probably focus on key features. I won't dump out information about its fur and its teeth and its eyes and its claws and its paws and whatever else is important. I'll give that information out in bits and pieces, like so (excerpt from the draft of Part Two of "House of Borzalom"):

"A flash of white, hidden amongst tufts of glossy black, wrapped in waves of rot that clung to the air. It clamped down on her arm. 

Teeth, she realized, but it was too late and she wasn't really there at all. 

Then there was red - red on her, on the teeth, on the soil. And the smell - God, that foul odor. In the dark she saw nothing except for these three colors, and as her conscious mind drowned in the deep waters of her spirit, she recalled his voice.

Beast."  

So, as you can see, the description is really minimal. I've pretty much only got three colours and a bad smell, but it does the trick, even if this is just an early draft version! This is especially useful in fast-paced parts of your story, where you don't really want to be bogged down by all that extra description. I think one thing that we tend to forget is to use all the senses - so whatever works and helps you paint a poignant image in the reader's mind, use it! 

You'll find lots of examples of minimal description in my writing, so for some more examples, check out the snippets that I've already shared here.

I try to be really creative with description, too. Describing things the same way most other writers do will make your scene sound old and kind of boring, especially if it's a concept that's already been explored hundreds of times before. Also, we like to use emotion, but using too much emotion in a common way can harm your writing flow - or at least in my experience it does. That's why I tend to do my best to describe emotions in ways that one wouldn't conventionally describe them. Try to get poetic with your descriptions, and never underestimate your readers' intelligence! They'll most likely understand what you're trying to say, and you'll get the added benefit of crafting a piece of writing that is beautifully written and aesthetically pleasing to read. ^^

I hope these tips help! Please do let me know what you think of them, and if it’s something you’ve already tried. ^^ 

My inbox is always open for questions, so please don’t be shy to drop in and say hello or leave an ask! 

[cbk1000]

Jenn Recommends: Historical Fiction II

Welcome to another blog post in which I tell you what to read, and you just sit and passively do it because I have excellent taste in literature and also I’m kind of a bully. Check this tag for more recommendations.

Today we revisit historical fiction, because it’s one of my favourite genres and I have lots of suggestions, all of which you should definitely take to heart. My first list of historical fiction recs (which can be found here if you’re curious) was all gay, all the time; this list is slightly more heterosexual, although not much, because here be lesbians.

If You Like: Dickensian lesbians (and really, who doesn’t?)

Read: Fingersmith by Sarah Waters

I’m going to lift the summary from Goodreads, because it’s faster, and I’m lazy:  Sue Trinder is an orphan, left as an infant in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, a "baby farmer," who raised her with unusual tenderness, as if Sue were her own. Mrs. Sucksby’s household, with its fussy babies calmed with doses of gin, also hosts a transient family of petty thieves—fingersmiths—for whom this house in the heart of a mean London slum is home. One day, the most beloved thief of all arrives—Gentleman, an elegant con man, who carries with him an enticing proposition for Sue: If she wins a position as the maid to Maud Lilly, a naïve gentlewoman, and aids Gentleman in her seduction, then they will all share in Maud’s vast inheritance. Once the inheritance is secured, Maud will be disposed of—passed off as mad, and made to live out the rest of her days in a lunatic asylum. With dreams of paying back the kindness of her adopted family, Sue agrees to the plan. Once in, however, Sue begins to pity her helpless mark and care for Maud Lilly in unexpected ways...But no one and nothing is as it seems in this Dickensian novel of thrills and reversals.

This novel really hearkens back to ye old days of sensation fiction when literary thrillers were a bit slower, a little more cumbersome; they wanted more patience from the reader, who watches all the little threads get teased out bit by excruciating bit. There’s a sinister undercurrent you feel pulling at you till about the halfway point of the novel, when everything is suddenly upended and you sit up in bed screaming, “BRUH!!” because your stupid ass did NOT SEE THAT COMING EVEN A LITTLE BIT.

Waters is really good at this; her evocation of Victorian England is excellent, and transports you in a way that only the best historical fiction can manage. The narrative unfolds slowly in the first half, building upon itself with a sense of heightening doom that a faster pace could never achieve. As the reader, you’re in on the con (or are you?), and you know what’s going to happen, how it’s all going to end, where the burgeoning relationship between the two girls is painfully trundling along to--except you don’t. Waters pulls the rug out from under your feet, and she doesn’t just do it once, which is why I’m reluctant to say too much about the plot. AND--she does it all in really lovely prose that’s reminiscent of the time period she’s working in; I never really felt a modern hand guiding me. I could have been reading any piece of 19th century literature; the seams between the 21st century and the 19th are never visible, never jarring. If you, like me, are a slut for ornate Gothic literature, and/or you want your historical lesbians and you want them now, give this a try.

If You Like: Watching an oblivious pre-WWI Edwardian society hurtling to its inevitable doom through the eyes of a fucked-up family whose matriarch loses herself in the magic of her own fairytales instead of actually paying attention to the flesh and blood children they are based upon

Read: The Children’s Book by A.S. Byatt  

From Goodreads:  When Olive Wellwood’s oldest son discovers a runaway named Philip sketching in the basement of the new Victoria and Albert Museum—a talented working-class boy who could be a character out of one of Olive’s magical tales—she takes him into the storybook world of her family and friends. But the joyful bacchanals Olive hosts at her rambling country house—and the separate, private books she writes for each of her seven children—conceal more treachery and darkness than Philip has ever imagined. As these lives—of adults and children alike—unfold, lies are revealed, hearts are broken, and the damaging truth about the Wellwoods slowly emerges. But their personal struggles, their hidden desires, will soon be eclipsed by far greater forces, as the tides turn across Europe and a golden era comes to an end.

It actually took me about a month or so to read this book--not because I kept putting it down and then begrudgingly picking it back up again, but rather because I purposefully wanted to draw it out. The language, the atmosphere--it was all just something I needed to savour. This is a slow, thoughtful book that focuses rather minutely on the dramas of one family and the people who become entangled with it; it will not be for everyone (which is a caveat attached to every book, but I feel this one in particular requires the warning). This is a book about the creative process and the myriad escape hatches it offers us from the real world, sometimes to our own detriment. It is a book about WWI even though the actual war inhabits only the last quarter of the book. It is a book about the options of women in a time when society was still debating whether or not they should be considered full-fledged people. 

This is one of those books that sort of just crawled inside me and stayed; I didn’t want to leave it. I think part of my reluctance came in not wanting to reach the end, knowing WWI was bearing down on these characters, knowing many of them wouldn’t make it, because that’s what the war did to an entire generation: it erased it. I knew it was going to erase whole swathes of the story I had spent hours devoting myself to. I knew for so many of the characters there wasn’t going to be a tidy ending, and there wasn’t; they just stopped, abruptly. You follow generations of the family and in the end feel cheated, not through any failing of the author, but through the cruel and arbitrary machinations of history and the things it has perpetuated against the human race through our own blind stupidity (I’m still upset about WWI, ok??? please don’t touch me).

There was magic in this book, in Olive’s fairytales, in the puppet shows of a family friend: but it’s magic that the matriarch in particular is using to encapsulate herself. It’s not a childlike reverence for things we forget about as we age; it’s a hiding. It’s a sort of disappearance into ourselves and our storytelling because we can’t bring ourselves to look at the material world in all its varying shades of shit and wonder.

Anyway, I had feelings, ok?

If You Like: Italian people, anatomically impressive statues, and erotic descriptions of marble (seriously, I think my dude Michelangelo might have put his penis in a block or two of it)

Read: The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone 

This is a biographical novel of Michelangelo which begins when he is thirteen and still in the very beginning throes of his artistic talents. Stone apparently read through Michelangelo’s entire personal correspondence (and patiently waited years for it all to be translated) and also moved to Italy to write this, so that’s dedication, and the least you can do to repay it is sit through the sometimes vaguely uncomfortable descriptions of Michelangelo’s artwork and his sexual tension with it.

While this doesn’t have the literary merits of the previous recommendations, it’s meticulous historical fiction; Stone painstakingly recreated Michelangelo and his work. It’s an interesting peek into a niche section of art history and also covers part of the turbulent Renaissance period and the powerful politics at play which snare the hapless Michelangelo when all he wants to do is sculpt (and probably wank to) realistic marble people, goddammit. It’s entirely believable as a biography (though it is, in fact, fiction).

Bonus: Michelangelo’s poetry, which was not a thing I even knew about prior to reading this book.

[anderstarblaine]

The One With Solace || Seblaine

Date: April 12th, 2017

Location: Seblaine’s Apartment.

Who: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe

Notes: Blaine notices Sebastian is being broody and decides to sit down and talk about what’s wrong and Sebastian opens up to him. 

Trigger Warning:  Talk of sexual abuse. 

sol·aceˈ / ˈsäləs / noun

1.comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness. "she sought solace in her religion" synonyms: comfort, consolation, cheer, support, relief "they found solace in each other"

verb

solace; 3rd person present: solaces; past tense: solaced; past participle: solaced; gerund or present participle: solacing 1. give solace to. synonyms: comfort, console, cheer, support, soothe, calm "she was solaced with tea and sympathy"

Sebastian Smythe:

Sebastian lounged on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the pages of an old magazine as the television droned on at a low volume. Over the last few days, Sebastian had been a little more than quiet and maybe even brooding a bit. It wasn’t that Sebastian was icing Blaine out or purposefully ignoring him; he just had a lot of thoughts that he was keeping to himself.

While Sebastian had truly enjoyed all the lengths Blaine had gone through to make their first official date as enjoyable as it had been, there was a thought he had niggling in the back of his mind. Though it hadn’t really been such a big deal, Blaine had witnessed the fact that Sebastian wasn’t willing to bottom. He hadn’t told his boyfriend anything yet, but very specific memories that he’d kept buried for as long as he could were beginning to resurface. Sebastian knew as he and Blaine grew closer, the sooner the truth would be revealed. He had a good inkling of a feeling that the moment they would sit and discuss Sebastian’s dark past was waiting right around the corner.

When Blaine had first moved in and even when they defined the relationship, Sebastian didn’t give his past a second thought. It didn’t occur to him that one day he might have to tell his boyfriend anything. He’d always kept his secrets well-hidden but he knew he shouldn’t keep secrets from Blaine; he knew he could tell Blaine anything. This was just something he had a little trouble opening up about. Sebastian looked back at everything that ever happened between he and Hunter and the more he remembered, the angrier and more mortified he became. Shoving the magazine away from him, it skidded shut onto the floor. Sebastian huffed out an impatient breath and rolled over onto the couch, unaware of Blaine entering in from the other room.

Blaine Anderson:

After the day of their first date had gone so perfectly, Blaine felt like he was on cloud nine for most of the day afterwards. He and Sebastian were finally completely free to love their life and they had started it with a bang.

No pun intended.

The fluttering feeling in his stomach was soon replaced with one of worry when he began to notice a sudden shift in the air and Sebastian's mood. He was quieter than normal and he didn't seem as happy as the day of their date. Blaine wondered what could possibly be wrong after such a perfect day together, and about a day into Sebastian's brooding it clicked in his mind and he remembered the quick but tense moment when they were on the couch together and Sebastian so harshly denied bottoming when they had sex.

Blaine had taken note of Sebastian's reaction that day and decided not to press further, and with all of the excitement of the sex itself and him revealing his big news he had forgotten about it-- as much as he hated to admit. But once he remembered, he knew that was exactly what was wrong with Sebastian. Blaine really didn't want to upset his boyfriend by pressing and being nosy-- knowing that if Sebastian were ready to tell him whatever it was that bothered him so much about bottoming, he would. But after a few days of Sebastian brooding around the apartment and huffing and tossing magazines, he wasn't going to ignore it anymore. It was clearly bothering him badly and he was going to offer the secure shoulder to cry on. They were partners after all.

He could hear the rustling of the magazine from the kitchen as he quietly sipped on a cup of coffee, and when he heard it hit the floor he decided it was time. He watched Sebastian huff and roll on the couch as he made his way to the living room. Deciding to try a light approach, he walked over to the couch and sat directly on Sebastian. “Okay, spill it.” He shook his head. “I know something's wrong, you've been Captain Huffs-A-Lot for days now. I'm your partner, best friend, lover-- you can talk to me.”

Sebastian Smythe:

Sebastian grunted from his place on the couch to acknowledge his boyfriend’s presence when sat upon, but he wasn’t in a very talkative mood. With another grunt of discontent, Sebastian shrugged one shoulder unenthusiastically. He already knew he’d been visibly off after the day of their date even when he tried playing it off. He hadn’t felt like himself since then and it had even reached a point where running around as the Flash didn’t help, either. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in his most nonchalant voice possible but he was no fool and knew that Blaine could see right through him. Even without looking at Blaine, he knew the man wasn’t buying it.

He made a move to get up from his place on the couch, needing his boyfriend to come off of him before he sat upright and invited Blaine to sit next to him. “I guess I’ve just been thinking…” Sebastian started, avoiding eye contact, “about stuff.” Keeping it vague always played well in Sebastian’s life and maybe it would for some reason pay off well here? At this point the man wasn’t thinking clearly and was just pulling out all the stops to avoid talking about what was plaguing him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Blaine with this information; it just didn’t come so easily to talk or think about-- even with himself.

“It’s stupid,” he shrugged his shoulders again and shrunk in on himself, looking away. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a light sigh, trying to find the right words to say it out loud. “I kind of almost freaked out the other day, when you mentioned us switching. I didn’t used to have problem with it before, but,” Sebastian cut himself off, unsure of how to continue. “I, I, I don’t know. I-It’s stupid,” he stuttered and mumbled, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

Blaine Anderson:

Blaine rolled his eyes a little as Sebastian suggested that he had no idea what Blaine was referring to. He was glad that he didn't have to press too much further for the taller to offer a little more information. Moving to get off his boyfriend, he sat next to him once Sebastian sat up.

Blaine listened as the other attempted to let him in on what was bothering him, his forehead wrinkling at Sebastian's vague reasoning, trying his best to crack the code. Wit a soft sigh, Blaine put his hand on Sebastian's knee, rubbing it back and forth in attempt to comfort him. "Hey, it isn't stupid." Blaine assured Sebastian as he visibly attempted to curl in on himself-- clearly something happened in Sebastian's past and it wasn't good. A bundle of worry twisted Blaine's stomach up in a tight knot as a thousand horrible scenarios flashed through his mind.

"Babe," His voice was soft as he reached for Sebastian's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Sweetheart, please, you can share anything with me. It isn't stupid." Blaine's thumb caressed the back of Sebastian's hand soothingly as he tried to make it as easy as possible for Sebastian to open up. "Hey," He whispered, using his free hand to gently touch his boyfriend's cheek, turning it carefully so Sebastian was encouraged to look at Blaine. "Look at me. I love you with all of my heart-- nothing you could say could ever change how I feel about you. And whatever it is, we can handle it together-- you don't have to handle heavy things alone anymore."

Blaine spoke gently and sweetly, making sure that he got the point across that no matter what it was, he was there for Sebastian.

Sebastian Smythe:

Sebastian did his best to listen to his boyfriend, really taking his words to heart. He really believed all the words spoken to him and knew in his heart and in his mind that there was no reason to hide. He knew Blaine wouldn’t think any less of him and yet he was still afraid-- embarrassed, even. Looking Blaine in the eye and reading his genuine expression, Sebastian breathed in a heavy breath and leaned into the other’s touch. He closed his eyes to steel himself and every word coming out of his mouth felt like he had to pry them from his closely-guarded heart.

“The last time I bottomed, I was--” he cut himself off as something seemingly got stuck in his throat and he started over, “The last time I bottomed, it wasn’t good. It was, it was bad. Really bad.” Sebastian knew it wasn’t the whole truth but it was a step in the intended direction. He hadn’t even mentioned Hunter yet and his eyes screwed shut as he tried to push back the awful feelings that came with the resurfaced memories. With explanations still vague, Sebastian knew he would have to elaborate just from observing Blaine’s bemused expression. He could feel his hands becoming clammy and his mouth going dry. His anxiety was on the rise. It was as if talking about it put Sebastian on the brink of reliving those painful memories all over again.

Sebastian swallowed a lump in his throat and he felt like closing in on himself again but couldn’t because Blaine was holding onto him. He felt like running away and hiding because he was afraid of what his boyfriend would think or say. Still, as much as his whole being was telling him to run, he stayed put and looked to his boyfriend for reassurance and comfort. He needed Blaine. Now, more than ever.

Blaine Anderson:

Blaine held Sebastian’s hand tightly as he watched his boyfriend carefully, it worried him to see the other struggling so badly with the words to say-- he knew that whatever happened it was bad. When Sebastian confirmed that it was bad, Blaine could feel his insides turn cold, a thousand things rushing through his mind at once. What? Who? When? Where? How? A hundred questions-- but he knew that he had to be gentle with this. Sebastian was sharing a deep, dark secret that he’d never told anyone before and Blaine had to respect that and treat it with care. He did his best to internalize the things he was feeling and be there for Sebastian.

Letting go of one of Sebastian's hands in favor of rubbing his forearm comfortingly, Blaine took a soft breath. He wasn’t sure what to say next, his next words needed to be carefully chosen as to not upset Sebastian further. “Okay, it was bad.” He nodded once, looking as Sebastian, holding his gaze to let him know he was right there with him. “Do you want to tell me what exactly happened?” Blaine asked gently, unsure if he should just outright ask Sebastian the big question on his mind.

Nibbling on his lip a little, Blaine gave Sebastian’s hand a squeeze. “Take a deep breath, honey. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.” He assured him as he could feel how anxious his boyfriend was becoming. He’d never seen Sebastian quite like this before and it worried him a bit. “We’re in no rush, here, take your time. You can tell me what happened, okay?” He nodded gently, shifting his body to sit facing the other, his legs crossed underneath him, taking his hand again to hold it tight. “Sebastian, were you…?” The word got caught in his throat, unable to pass through his lips.

Sebastian Smythe:

The dangling question weighed heavily in the air and it didn't need to be said for either of them to know exactly what they were talking about here. It was a word Sebastian avoided even thinking about for the sake of saving himself embarrassment but also because he didn't want to villainize Hunter anymore than he already had been. Truth be told, if it had been anyone else, Sebastian might've been quick to call “rape” and be done with it. But he and Hunter had an odd kind of relationship and it was difficult for Sebastian to just ignore that and blame Hunter for everything.

“Y-yes, I mean, No-- I mean, I guess technically but it was also sort of my fault--" Sebastian tried to justify Hunter's actions, “Every time something happened, I went to him or he came to me… I must've given Hunter the idea that it was okay and--" As if the first words were like opening the floodgates, Sebastian began word-vomiting and told Blaine everything. He made it a point to never actually use the word “rape" but even then he knew that's exactly what he was describing. The pain-- both physical and emotional-- that came with his and Hunter’s intimacy were clear-cut signs of sexual abuse and rape. Hunter was very clearly in the wrong.

Sebastian could count how many times he had been with Hunter on a single hand; he could say confidently that there had never been a time where it was enjoyable. He and Hunter were one big mistake that the former had tried very much to erase from his past. Previously, it was easier to push things aside and pretend they didn't happen but he was with Blaine now; it was time to be honest and open.

At the end of Sebastian’s explanation for what exactly had happened and his traumatic experiences, the man found himself almost shaking and he clenched his hands into fists in an attempt to still himself. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner,” he apologized. He knew if Blaine had known earlier, there would've been no way in hell they would’ve gone to that bar with him. That whole night could’ve been avoided. “I'm… I'm sorry.”

Blaine Anderson:

As Sebastian completely poured himself out there right in front of him, Blaine held his breath, tightening his grip on his boyfriend's hand. He listened to every single word that came out of Sebastian's mouth, letting the reality of what he was learning sink in.

A fire ignited in his stomach as it twisted with rage. He knew from the moment he met Hunter Clarington that he was a good-for-nothing low-life, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had never felt so much disdain for one person in his entire life as he felt for Hunter in that moment. Blaine could feel his cheeks warming with every word that Sebastian shared of his past with the other man and all he wanted to do was leave right then and there and find him. He wanted to find Hunter and he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him regret ever even thinking about Sebastian.

Blaine did his best to keep his composure and not let Sebastian in on how absolutely furious he was, not wanting to upset him further. He focused himself on the man in front of him and he could see how visibly shaken he’d become from explaining his past-- focusing on how to calm him down. “Hey, hey,” Blaine shook his head as Sebastian apologized, moving to attempt to get closer. “Honey, no.” He whispered, taking the other’s hands in his own again, bringing them to his chest. “Look at me.” Blaine could feel his own hands trembling as he attempted to calm himself and Sebastian, coaxing the taller to look him in the eye. “Don’t you ever, ever, apologize to me or anyone for this.”

Blaine’s voice was calm and serious as he spoke, wanting his boyfriend to really hear him. “This is a really tough thing to talk about, I know. And I’m so proud and grateful that you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about this. You are so strong, Sebastian.” Letting go of one of Sebastian’s hands, he cupped his cheek gently to brush his thumb over the taller’s cheek. “I promise you, you never have to see him or speak to him ever again. He will never, ever, come near you again. I promise.”

Sebastian Smythe:

Sebastian was ashamed and mortified. He had never told anyone his secret; not his friends, not his family, and especially none of his hook-ups. Now that everything was all out in the open, Sebastian felt both relief and a crumbling fear for what would happen next. Eyes downcast and body still slightly trembling, the taller man found it difficult to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. When his hands were pulled closer to Blaine’s chest, Sebastian made eye contact. The first thing he noticed was that Blaine’s face was flushed red and despite the man’s best attempt to remain calm, it was evident he was angry. Sebastian understood; he knew the revealed information was upsetting to say the least and he knew that anger was probably bubbling just beneath the surface.

He let Blaine’s words really sink in, each one weighing more than the last. He didn’t feel strong and he wasn’t sure why Blaine would ever be proud of him. Regardless, the words made him feel loved and his worries were coaxed away slowly. Hearing the promise that Hunter would never be part of their lives was a relief but at the same time it gave Sebastian mixed feelings. Sebastian was also friends with Hunter despite the unwanted sexual encounters. Their relationship was complicated and years of being manipulated had left him puzzled about how he felt about Hunter, even without sex. Still, Sebastian knew better than to voice those thoughts for he knew Blaine was more than furious at the man.

“I just… I don’t want this to be a problem for us. I don’t want him to have ruined anything that could happen for us.” Sebastian expressed. He already knew Blaine was versatile and he wanted to be able to accommodate that. He wanted to connect with Blaine in that way as well; it was just a matter if he would mentally and emotionally capable of doing so. “I want to--” he cut himself off again. Truth be told, he simply wasn’t sure he would ever be able to bottom again.

Blaine Anderson:

Blaine shook his head as Sebastian spoke, bringing the taller’s hands up to his lips to kiss them gently. He was heartbroken seeing his boyfriend like this. All he wanted to do was kiss it and make it all better-- he wanted to take this pain away from Sebastian. “Baby, no.” His voice was soft as he continued to hold Sebastian’s hands to his chest. In his mind it was crazy to think that anything could or would ever come between them and mess up what they had-- he knew it was impossible. But he also knew that Sebastian’s fears were valid and very real, he would have to do everything in his power to make sure the taller knew nothing would ever break them apart.

“You and I,” He started, his golden eyes staring deep into Sebastian’s, practically gazing into his soul. “We’re solid-- we are always going to be okay.” Blaine kissed his boyfriend’s hands again, his voice very serious, yet soft, as he spoke his words of reassurance. “Nothing is ruined-- you and I are so good, honey. So good.” He hated Hunter. He hated him for making Sebastian feel this way-- for forcing them to have this conversation. “I want you to listen to me and listen good, okay? There’s nothing in this world that could ever ruin us. We’re finally together and that’s how it’s going to stay, I promise.”

Blaine made sure that Sebastian held his gaze before saying his next words, wanting them to ring loud and clear in his boyfriend’s mind. “You don’t ever, ever have to bottom if you aren’t comfortable with it. If someday you feel like you want to try it-- we will go slow and if at any moment you need to stop, we will. Don’t ever be afraid to talk to me about this, okay?” Blaine finally let go of Sebastian’s hands to slip his arms around him the best he could to pull him closer. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the taller’s temple. “I love you, and you’re okay. We’re okay-- don’t ever doubt that.”  

Sebastian Smythe:

As he stared into Blaine’s eyes, Sebastian felt like something inside of him was melting away. He watched as his boyfriend gently kissed his hands and with each word spoken and each act of affection, Sebastian could feel the love that Blaine felt for him. He shut his eyes when Blaine kissed his forehead, and his chest rose with a shaky breath. He felt like he could relax in Blaine’s gentle but firm embrace. The taller man wrapped his arms around Blaine as best as he could and he screwed his eyes shut tight as he did his best to listen to Blaine’s words and only Blaine’s words. Everything else didn’t matter. Hunter didn’t matter. All he needed was Blaine.

They were okay. They were together and they were okay.

He clung onto every word like a lifeline and he nodded slowly. His insecurities slowly subsided. “I love you too,” he rasped, something catching in his throat. He could feel tears welling up behind his eyelids; his face felt flushed and there was heat building behind his eyes. But he wasn’t about to let himself cry. He promised himself he wouldn’t. So he just hugged Blaine, tightly holding onto him. He repeated Blaine’s words back to himself in his head, telling himself that everything was going to be okay.

When he had calmed down a little and felt like he could talk again without the sensation of a lump stuck in his throat, Sebastian promised to always be upfront and honest about his feelings and if anything were to ever bother him again in the future. It hurt him to see Blaine so upset over what had happened and having to talk about it but Sebastian knew it was better that it was finally out in the open and known. He knew they were stronger because of it.

[stubbornness-and-spite]

A Time for Secrets and a Place for Truth

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: There were a million ways it could have gone and a million reasons why. Is this the one that happened or just another sweeter lie? But of the two who they knew would speak, only one had a liar's sweet tooth. So let's pretend for just a moment, that this is the place for truth.

AKA: Anxiety and Deceit(or is it Virgil and Janus?) have a much needed talk

Pairings: platonic anxceit, I guess you could read it as past-romantic

Characters: Virgil, Janus, all others mentioned

Genre: conflict resolution, offscreen hurt/onscreen comfort

Warnings: vague spoilers for POF

Notes: implied to have happened after POF, but I’m purposefully not clear

Read on AO3

There were a million different ways it could have happened and a million different things that could have triggered it, but everyone knew it was coming.

Everyone knew that eventually the tension between Virgil and Janus(they knew him as Deceit when they first thought it, but eventually, even in their own minds, they started calling him Janus. Some took to it with grace, some with nonchalance, and some with scorn, but they did and it happened and that much none of them would argue with) would come to a head.

They all knew it.

If some of them had been a little bit worse, they would have bet on when and where. If some of them had been a little bit better, they wouldn’t have.

They could have considered their knowing to be speculation, but it was more than that. It was inevitable.

And since they all knew, it hardly even needed to be said.

But it was. And it went something like this:

~

“You told me I could never be anything other than a villain,” Virgil spat, advancing on Deceit with each accusation. “You told me I could never be anything but hated. You told me that no matter how hard I tried, the only way they would ever love me was if I was someone else. Remember that? Do you really expect me to forgive you?”

Deceit pointedly didn’t flinch. He looked at Virgil with that patronizing expression that Virgil had always hated, that had tainted the best parts of his relationship with Patton because, at their core, Morality and Deceit were far too much alike. “Because of course, I, Deceit, am a beacon of truth and honesty,” he sneered, nodding. “You should trust every word I say.” He didn’t hesitate. Hesitation was for cowards. “I don’t care about you. Why would I make up what I thought I needed to say to get you to stay?”

Virgil gaped at him, “You, better than anyone, knew how miserable I was.” It wasn’t a confession. There was very little left that Virgil could say to Deceit that would be considered a confession. After all, it wasn’t a confession if the other already knew. “Why would you want to guilt me into staying? Did you really think I would ever forgive you for that either?”

“Of course I did.” Deceit was very still. Virgil knew his physical tells, after all. “I knew you would forgive me for anything I said. I just wanted to hurt you.” He couldn’t keep his voice from softening anymore than Virgil could keep from understanding his true motivation. “You were afraid.”

Deceit smiled, giving in to the inevitability of Virgil learning the truth. “Me? Never.”

Anxiety scoffed, “I’m Fear as much as you are Deception,” he whispered. “I know when someone’s afraid.” He let his voice grow stronger and gave away one of his last confessions. “I couldn’t tell before because I was so afraid all the time.” He thought he knew all there was and how much he should fear it. He thought he knew the truth, but Deceit always had been good at his job. “What did you have to be afraid of?”

Deceit let his voice shake and his breath catch. There was a time for secrets and a place for truth. This was not the time but it was the place. “I was absolutely not afraid of being alone,” he lied. The truth scared him, far more than he would admit and even as he gave away his secrets, Deceit clung to the security of lies. They always did taste sweeter and sound better. “I wanted you to leave and I wanted to do my job without you there to get in the way. You really did me a favor, so thanks, Anxiety.”

“Falling back into old habits?” Anxiety taunted.

Deceit scoffed. “Like you’re not.”

Virgil took a breath and burst out, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Dee, but I won’t apologize for picking myself for once and leaving.”

Deceit laughed, long, loud, and uncensored. “Selfishness is awful and unhealthy, remember, Anxiety? I really can’t forgive you for it.” He frowned. “I never could stand you and I still hate you. I don’t trust you,” he choked out. Deceit stopped and shook his head. It was the place for truth. It was time to stop relying on what kept him safe before. It was time to stop being afraid. “I should have trusted you more. Virgil, I should have trusted you. I shouldn’t have taken your name and never offered mine.”

“Deceit. Stop.” Virgil lunged forward and grabbed his wrists, pinning him but making sure that his grip stayed on top of Deceit’s gloves and didn’t brush his skin. “You trusted me in the ways that mattered as far as you could.” They had never had a healthy relationship. They had never been able to trust each other unconditionally. It would do them no good now to pretend that they had ever acted in anything other than their own self-interest. “Keep your name. I always wanted to give you mine anyway but once there was nothing you could do with it, we weren’t talking anymore.” There was no point in pretending they had been something they weren’t, but there was no point in pretending that was all they could ever be either. “Tell me when you’re ready and if you want to tell anyone or everyone else first, then do it.”

“Thank you,” Deceit breathed out. “I wish I was ready to trust you more.”

Virgil smiled a bit. “Truth,” he accused.

“I really did love you, Anxiety. Not in the way you needed or the way that Patton and the others can or even unconditionally, but I did love you.”

Virgil ducked his head, biting back a laugh. “Yeah, Dee,” he said, letting go of his final confession, “Me too.”

~

None of them knew exactly why it happened because the only two who were there didn’t care to share, but they all knew that it happened and (to varying degrees of accuracy) how it happened.

Patton would insist it was after that first breakfast, when Roman was still hurting and Janus was still hesitant.

Logan would think that it happened before that, that the conversation between the two former friends had been what spurred Janus to reveal his name to them in the first place.

Roman would declare that he didn’t care when or why it happened, but privately, he and Remus agreed that it probably happened after Roman and Janus mended fences because Virgil was far more loyal to Roman than he ever was to Janus. Neither of them thought that was a bad thing or a good thing, but they agreed on it.

Janus claimed it never happened at all.

Virgil would admit it happened, but nothing more, only shooting Janus a look if pressed and biting back a smile.