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xokohaneazusawa · 3 months

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hello pookie i’m the anon who got injured while playing football during PE!! (update on the injury: it doenst hurt as much anymore, but it’s fucking black?? around the corners?? AM I DYING 💀)

ok but anygays i saw someone else comment on the post who also wanted another part so i can now overcome the guilt of potentially asking for too much and ask for that infirmary part 2 anyways 😍😍 (nvm it’s not working. i still feel bad.)

and ofc i was thinking of the bllk boys during PE we were literally playing football and i was thinking about how funny it would be if i pulled a chigiri and broke my leg right then and there because of how bad i was at it (i’m so sorry.)

fr tho i cannot play for shit 😭 these mfs make it look so damn easy but football is too damn difficult 💀(i don’t exercise. if i have the option to stay at home every day of my life with everything in it and unlimited supply of food and other essentials, i would. i also failed my school’s fitness test and struggle to open bottle caps sometimes.) i’m just a girl 🎀

i don’t mean to be greedy or demanding but an infirmary scene would really heal my soul (and hopefully my nose. i still dk why it’s turning a bit black. 💀 maybe it’s bruising idk 💀)

p.s. i think my nose is fine but idk. it doesn’t feel pain or anything, and the wound is quite inconspicuous. like i have to squint to see it and the weird black parts (haha 400 eye degree 😍)

You never have to feel bad about asking for anything from me, I'm happy to really do whatever lol! I'm actually so excited to write this, I mean it's such a cute idea!!

Chigiri Hyoma

-> Bro fought with the nurses to stay with you, so that man is not leaving your side the whole time you are there. I mean he's sitting next to your bed, or next to you if you're in a chair, and not leaving for anything.. well unless you asked for something, but that's not the point here

✮ - He sighed and watched as they started to take some tissues making sure that the bleeding was stopping, and applying an ice pack on your nose. He laughed slightly when he saw you flinch due to the cold, but made sure to squeeze your hand slightly to show that it would be fine. Once the ice was applied they made you sit and wait for a little, just to help with the healing, and came by every couple minutes at first to make sure that everything was okay and that you weren't getting freezer burn by any chance. The nurses were all really sweet, and Chigiri was making sure you were following what they said, no matter how cold that ice pack was, your ass, was not taking it off around him. Man already has a good track record of listening to what the doctors say, he trusts them, so in due turn you're following everything that they say as well. He sighs when you finally can take off the ice pack and he can already see the bruise forming under the red from the cold.

"Next time make sure you're not in dream land, because I'm gonna be way worse then these people when taking care of your stupid ass."

Rin Itoshi -> He might have left because the nurses told him to go back, but he also might have accidently put somebody else in the infirmary because he wasn't paying attention and went a little too hard on one of the newbies, so he ended up being back after only a couple minutes. Though the second he got back he was sitting next to you and making sure that you were okay, more with his actions then his words

✮ - This man hurried back over to the infirmary, he was almost asked by a couple teachers to slow down on the way there but when they saw he also looked pissed off (It's really just his rbf) they decided to just leave him alone. Assumed he was gonna like murder then if they had said something. The second he got back he rushed over to where you were, immediately asking if you were okay. Though it might not have sounded like he cared, the way that he almost plowed through like 3 teachers on the way here made up for it. The nurses were hella confused but once they saw him sitting right next to you and slightly holding onto your hand making sure they you didn't remove the ice pack, no matter how cold it was, they kinda just aww-ed and continued their work, checking up on you making sure that you didn't accidently get freezer burn and checking for bruising and things like that. He stayed holding your hand the whole time, letting you squeeze his hand whenever they tried to mess with your nose, pushing it around. He sighed when they finally walked away, looking up at you.

"I hope you know that I almost sent another lukewarm player from your team to the infirmary.. never do that shit again."

Nagi Seishiro

-> He will stay with you the whole time, mostly because he was too lazy to go back to class, and the fact that he was really only trying to impress you and since you're not there anymore it didn't matter to him. Though he will make sure to ask every couple minutes if you're okay, even if he looks like he's falling asleep against your shoulder

✮ - Was actually half falling asleep against your shoulder before you had to move him slightly when the nurse gave you an ice pack, which woke him up and that’s when he realized what was actually happening, to which he did end up staying awake to make sure that you were okay. Checking on you every couple minutes with a quick “You good?” or “You’re not dying. Right?”. He’s trying his best, but normally Reo takes care of him, he’s never been on the other side of this. The nurses will always slightly laugh at him, because he looks kinda worried but actually has no idea on what to do to help you. Is the only one who will actually take the ice pack off of you, not because he was trying to prevent healing, but you said your nose was cold and bro just fixed the problem, well that was until you laughed at him and he was hella confused. (please explain to this man about the great thing to athletes and injuries that is an Ice pack). Though he was super sweet other than that and did try to learn a bit and pay attention when the nurse finally let you leave with just some instructions on how to take care of it.

“Next time, just pay attention.. So we don’t have to go through all of this again. How I wished first aid kids that just auto healed worked in real life..”

Bachira Meguru

-> Stayed with you, but he laughed. The whole time. Man has almost been in tears twice sitting next to you, thinking about the way the ball came right in the center of your face and now it's all bruised. The nurses at this point also wanna give him a bruised nose so he can finally shut up

✮ - He was trying to contain his laugh the whole time he walked you there, plus in the office when the nurses were trying to help you, by getting tissues, an ice pack, and possibly some sort of pain medication. You probably have already given this man so many dirty looks and glares, but he just doesn’t seem to care whatsoever. Now, not to get this confused. He is concerned for your safety, but the fact that you got smack dabbed hit in the center of your face with a football is just so freaking funny to him and he’s just watching it over and over in his head. Had it been a whole different injury, one that didn’t look so funny, he would probably be more serious about it, but come on, it was pretty funny. Though, he’s probably also gotten hit a couple times with a ball so he does at least know the basics of making sure that you’re okay. So another one that makes sure that you keep that ice pack on the whole goddamn time, unless obviously, freezer burn. (I’ve had it, it sucks.) Though again, everytime he sees your nose, all red and starting to get bruised he will indeed laugh. But at the end of the day he’ll also be pretty helpful in making sure that it gets better, since his past experiences, if you can deal with the constant teasing.

“Oh come onnnn, It’s pretty funny! I mean how far out were you to get hit in the middle of the god damn face- Oh wait, here I have some bandaids so you can compress it”

Isagi Yoichi

-> Always making sure that you're okay. You move? He's asking. You made a funny face of pain? He's asking. You even looked at him? he's asking. He's really just worried and wants to make sure that you're okay and that it won't be all that bad or anything

✮ - This man has not left your side the whole time you’ve been sitting there. He’s constantly asking and making sure you’re okay and don’t need anything. Not to mention, he’s also been holding your hand the whole time, just in case. The only time he ever lets go is when the nurses come to make sure you’re okay. He’s just being cautious, hey, maybe you’ll need two hands to hold something or whatever. The only time he will keep his hold on you is when they come to move it around to make sure it’s not like broken or anything, then he’ll keep it there so you can squeeze it to deal with the pain, hey, hurt noses are nothing to sneeze at (please somebody laugh at that). Whenever your hand gets tired (or just cold) of holding your ice pack, he’ll take over. He’s just so freaking helpful and all the nurses love him for that. Though being an athlete himself does help a lot, he’s pretty good at knowing how all this stuff works. Checking to make sure that you’re following what the nurses said and making sure that it’s not getting too bad. Though once he sees that it’s all red and stuff he will chuckle a little, as worried as he is.

“Maybe next time you keep your attention on the field and not in whatever world you were in, okay?”

Reo Mikage

-> He was still laughing a little bit, and chuckled when he was reminded of the event, but for the most part was pretty worried about you and made sure that you didn't touch it too much so you didn't accidently hurt it anymore. Like Isagi, he also made sure to ask if you were okay every couple minutes, he just really wants to make sure that it won't cause anything long term.

✮ - He was sitting in the nurse's office with you, making sure that you were okay, asking if you needed anything. Water? To take off the ice pack for a second? Another tissue? He’s got it all covered. I mean he’s been taking care of Nagi for how long, this isn’t all that different. Well besides the fact he also gets a laugh or two out of it. (he won’t actually let out a laugh until you’re leaving the nurse’s office, and when he’s sure that it’s starting to get better). He just thinks it’s a little funny, watching the scene replay in his head of you getting hit in the face with the football. He knows that he shouldn’t laugh at your demise, but you can’t blame him. Though he’ll make sure that you always have everything you need for the next couple weeks, or at least until it’s healed. After the initial injury he might be a little more easy to make laugh, and by that I mean every time he sees your slightly bruised nose he’s letting out a chuckle. Was he worried at first? Yeah. But now he just sees it as a memory of you spacing out at the worst time.

“I know that I look good on the field, but next time pay attention to the flying ball and not at your amazing boyfriend~”

Sae Itoshi

-> Staying with you. No matter what. The nurses most likely hate him at this point, he's silent and he really isn't doing anything besides being next to you. Though, what they don't know is that fact every time he sees you twist with discomfort or make a face he's reaching over to ask if you're okay or you need anything

✮ - The nurses have come over a couple times at this point, once to give you an ice pack, once just to double check that you were okay, and once to give you some pain medication and water. Though on the right side of you, Sae has just been looking over at some of the other patients, and nurses walking around the office. After everytime one of the nurses walks up to you or does anything he will turn his attention back over to you and ask you a quick “you okay.” slightly looking at either your face or body language. If he ever can see that you’re lying to him, good luck to you. He’s an athlete, man has most likely gotten hurt in his career, and he knows lying and saying you’re fine isn’t doing anything, it’s actually most likely making it worse. So in turn he will glare at you until you finally say that you’re not okay. He just wants you to be honest, especially if it hurts and it’s something that can be fixed. Though also with his background he knows how to take care of things like that, and might possibly be the best one to have in this scenario, well if you can deal with him constantly not (facial) showing that he cares.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that. And now you’re being even more stupid, don’t touch it.”

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #meguru bachira x reader #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #xokohaneazusawa’s writings!

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xshimaeraxx · 6 days

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okay but like. can we just think, for a second, ab how fucking overwhelming/terrifying it wldve been for cc!cupbros to start working at a place where literally all the employees have killed them at least once?

like yes, likely part of the whole reason cups n mugs even applied for the job in the first place is bc theyre freaks (adrenaline junkies) and like the thrill of it, but you cant tell me there wasnt a period immediately post-hiring where they were both like “oh fuck oh fuck why did we do this oh dear god we’re gonna get killed”, a period immediately post-hiring where they seriously contemplated just quitting, bc even if the thrill of it was nice, the rush damn-near heavenly after years of the same day-in-day-out routine, they still have (some semblance of) self-preservation instincts, n im betting ALL of them would’ve been screaming get out get out you’re not safe oh god we’re gonna die stOP BEING AN IDIOT AND GET OUT OF HERE YOU MORON for the first two or so weeks of working there

like. they died there. like, maybe 40, maybe 50 times, but they DIED THERE and came back (and considering Mugsy’s rant/vent ab what revival’s like for them, that prolly wld’ve been an added facter to the whole “OH GOD YOU’RE IN DANGER GET OUT” cocktail) and a regular human has a hard time going to places they’ve nearly died, let alone actually have died at (speaking from experience here; i once fell into a pool at a theme park n nearly drowned smth like 2-3 yrs ago, n to this day the thought of getting into a pool/any deep body of water still makes me nervous)

like. god, i wonder if, post-game, they had trouble going anywhere w gambling elements, purely bc it reminds them of The Casino.

anygays tl;dr: CAN WE PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE THESE BOIS ARE TRAUMATISED, I NEED MORE CC!CUPBROS ANGST IN MY LIFE EGSJDGEJEGJAHSJE

#screaming incoherently into the void of tumblr #cuphead #casino cups #cuphead: don't deal with the devil #cuphead: ddwtd #cddwtd #cuphead and mugman

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heaven-sent-hell-bent · 9 months

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I have not slept in so long I have only allowed this vassal of a body to sleep for not 2 hours at this time. All thought has left me as I walk this mortal plain. It is the witching hour currently as I rise from my bed.

Anygays I published the weed brownie fic LMAO (the skin is a huge issue GRRR gonna have to edit it over this week cause I've been working on this cursed fic for too long

thank to @ireallyliketalldarksultrymen for the title lmao

(It's shit but it was fun to write)

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callsigncrash · 1 year

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Mmmay I have some Yamori, Naki, the people from The Boys and whoever else you feel like writing with a s/o that has some tics, obsessive compulsions and rituals?

For example if u want something more specific time work with, maybe s/o shakes their head a bit randomly, whistle for no reason, sometimes squeak when they're anxious and literally can't hold back from doing it (<that's for tics),

When goin a certain path to a ceirtan place they Have to step on a very specific crack on the floor/manhole/floor tile on the way there or they get anxious for the whole day thinking that something bad will happen or feeling physically bad bcz they didn't step on it, having to count a exact same number while stirring the sugar in their coffee in the morning or any time they drink it (<for obsessive conpulsions),

Or maybe needing to have ceirtan stuff in the room arranged in a very specific way before going to sleep and Always counting the things they need to get arranged before turning the lights off or putting things in place in a very specific way when getting back home from work and getting anxious if they're stopped or can't make it right?

Idk, just some stuff I do and can't get myself to stop doing, got curious on how the Cc's would react to that stuff

Anygays, sorry for the big big text, have a great cycle of 72 hours! ^^

S/O with OCD HCs

I have horrible and literally debilitating ocd so this ask makes me feel so seen.

________________________________________________

Yamori

Notices before you tell him about.

He doesn’t think too much of it. He has his own compulsive tendencies so he won’t say anything about yours.

He does get a little concerned for you. He knows his aren’t great, especially the reasons for them, so he wonders if yours are from the same type of thing.

Starts counting what you do for things like coffee so that he can make sure everything you need is exactly how you like and need it.

If you pick at yourself, he’ll keep it in mind and carry bandaids for you.

If you’re starting to feel anxious, he’ll help as much as he can.

His arms wrapped around you are a good distraction.

He knows it’s a condition and it can make your life hard but he likes the squeaks and whistles you make. It’s distinctly you and he likes it.

He knows that there’s a degree of comfort that comes with fulfilling a habit so he’ll let you do your thing.

If you want to try and change your habits, he will help you as much as he can.

Naki

He has some habits and whatnot himself so he doesn’t really think much of it.

When you tell him that it’s OCD and that it can give you some anxiety, he gets worried.

He calms down after you reassure him that you’re ok if you can chill out and do your thing.

He watches you a lot. Putting exactly 3 cubes of sugar in your coffee because 2 is ok but 3 feels less anxiety inducing, especially because 4 is unlucky but while makes it even, it divides it in a way makes you uncomfortable? Write that down, write that down!

He might start mimicking your compulsions just because he wants to do what you do.

If he notices you getting anxious, he’ll try and get you to think of something else like “Remember that time we talked about how 15 was a comfy number?”

Is acutely aware of your vocal tics. He can’t always distinguish them from distress and just a normal sound.

Wants you to tell him more about your condition so that he understands you better.

His adoption of things like counting has started to help him when he gets overwhelmed and emotional.

He likes your nightly routines. Locking doors, checking windows, and turning on and off lights? He feels safe and now you do too.

Black Noir

He understands.

He has routines for himself so that he can keep his cool so he has no qualms with anything you do.

He won’t even call attention to your tics or any habits you may have. You’re just being you so there’s nothing to say.

He likes having a routine with you and he’ll help you stick with one that calms you down.

Subconsciously listens for/to your noises and breaths.

Immediately notices the excessive movement and tics when you’re nervous. He doesn’t talk but he’ll grab your hand and get you to focus and count or he’ll give you something to focus on.

He likes being neat and tidy so he doesn’t mind the need to have stuff set a certain way.

He really appreciates it if you help him with his compulsions or when he gets really anxious.

He tries his best to make you feel better on those days when you get anxious or restless.

He’s probably one of the best people to be around if you’ve got OCD.

Homelander

As much as I love John, I know that he’d probably be annoyed at first.

Why do you keep doing that? It’s annoying him.

When you tell him why he’s just kind of like “Ok?”.

As much as it confuses him at first, gods forbid someone else brings it up.

Sassy Homie time.

He gets seriously defensive if someone even hints at not liking what you’re doing.

Like Black Noir, he starts to subconsciously listen for you.

Each squeak or timed breath calms him down.

If you ever get anxious or feel like you’re having a breakdown, he’s right there for you. He has his moments so he’ll be there for yours.

He learns your routines pretty quickly so he’ll go through them with you.

Feeling bad? Don’t worry! He’s here so no misstep on the sidewalk will harm you! What do you mean that doesn’t make you feel better?

Might accidentally adopt your habits.

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eunchancorner · 1 year

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yessss please, I would like to know more

Have I ever told yall it feels really good when y'all are hyped for something I wanna talk about?

Anygay

November 13th, 2:34 P.M.

Jack and John looked Bob over thoughtfully as they sat on the other side of the interrogation table. He seemed so… different like this. And no, it wasn’t the thin orange jumpsuit, nor the massive cuffs needed for his wrists. It wasn’t the change of scenery, the drab grays and loneliness sharply contrasting the bright, public environments he usually staged his massacres in.

It was his calm, downcast, almost sad expression. The complete opposite of his sinister smile and gaze that stares into your soul. The way he slouched in his chair. His former sadistic air had just about dissipated and he looked like little more than a pathetic old man. He was almost a different man.

“So…” John started with a sigh, sitting forward in his chair. “You’re a cannibal?”

Bob’s gaze flicked up for a moment, before settling back on the table in front of him, humming out a quiet agreement.

“And how many of your victims have you actually… eaten?” he pressed, keeping an eye on the biggest’s every movement, studying his body language.

Bob seemed to think for a moment, counting on his hand before looking up at them again.

“I believe a bit of each… so, technically, all of them…” he finally said, his gaze lowering once again as he spoke.

“And how did this whole cannibalism thing begin, Mr. Velseb?” Jack asked.

The oldest heaved a deep sigh, emotion beginning to show deep in his eyes.

“That’s an… old tale, officers. One that I’m sure would be too borin for ya…” he said carefully, his expression just barely displaying distress.

“I’m sure a tale that ends with you as a man-eating serial killer is far from boring,” John reasoned.

“Hm… I suppose you have a point, but it’s a tale I’m not too… fond of, let’s say.”

“And why is that?” Jack questioned.

“Have you… ever been betrayed, officers? Either of ya?”

“Not yet, no,” the other ravenette answered, his partner grunting in agreement.

“Hm. ‘Yet.’ Bein realistic, I see… how else can I put this, then?” he seemed deep in thought for a few minutes before he continued.

“Have you ever done somethin you regret, but knew, in that moment, that you had to?”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Jack answered again.

“As officers, we usually have to make that decision on the field,” John affirmed, silently hoping that being a bit more open with Bob would encourage the same.

“Well… my story starts with a decision like that… or, well, the crimes did…”

He took a deep breath, finally locking eyes with the two.

“My story begins with me… and a friend. My closest friend, and maybe most loyal customer, a man named Corey, twelve long years ago. He and he were inseparable. Game nights, huntin, watchin football, every cliche thing two men could do, we were doin. And we loved it.

“He’d come by Boys ‘N Grills damn near every day at lunch, and we’d chat about whatever came to mind. Somethin new that caught our eyes, different grillin techniques, an idea about what to do after work, everythin.

“In fact, one day, Corey suggested we’d go hikin. He insisted it’d be a fun little adventure, and dammit, he looked so excited, how could I say no? Heh, it was endearin, almost cute as one of y’all might put it.

“We packed our things, and, around October 15th-ish, I believe, we set out in the woods. I remember it was right smack-dab in the middle of Spooky Month, and he was so excited for our ‘Spooky hike’, as he put it. And, I’ll admit, I was excited, too. It was nice gettin to go out and do somethin new with him.

“But, despite everythin we packed, our first mistake was leavin behind our compass. When me and him realized this, Corey assured me that we didn’t need it, that if we kept track of how many turns we made, we’d be alright. But that was our second mistake, trustin either of us to remember anythin while occupied with all the sights. After a while, all the trees started to look the same, and when I finally got scared of losin our way, it was too late. Corey kept insistin that we weren’t lost and could get back home easy, but I wasn’t sure… he should’ve listened to me…”

Bob trailed off, clutching his bandaged right hand. The searing pain from the bullet wound, when his hand had been shot to disarm him, felt like a little bug bite in comparison to the pain growing in what used to be a hollow chest. He wanted to focus more on the wounds outside than inside. He didn’t want to tell this story. But he had to, he knew he did.

“Hours turned to days… days turned to weeks… weeks turned to half a damn month we were out there. We were growin desperate after runnin out of food within the first few damned days… We couldn’t tell poisonous berries apart from safe and didn’t dare run the risk. We hadn’t brought any guns or fishin rods, and no matter how hard we tried, spearfishin always ended with us empty handed. We were lucky we didn’t see any bears or wolves out there, or I don’t think I’d’ve survived, either…”

“Are you saying that Corey died in the woods?” Jack interjected.

“If you’d let me finish, you’d’ve found that out… but yes… one day, Halloween, I think it was, somethin… happened to him. He couldn’t take it anymore. And, with the only weapon we had, a single damn pocket knife, he attacked me… caught me off-guard and cut me up real bad. The whole time I tried to fight him off, tryin to get him to snap out of it, tellin him we’d be ok, that someone would find us. Tryin to have the positivity that he’d had at the beginnin, but he wasn’t havin none of it. He kept talkin about how out there, there was no friendship. There was no partnership. There was no ‘us’…” his gaze turned to the mirror at the side of the room, “Just me, him, and hunger, and that one of us had to go, so the other could go on. I just wanted to get him off of me… I just wanted to stay alive, I…” he began to choke on his words, feeling tears trying to push past his defenses. He couldn’t cry, not here, not now. Not with two officers staring him down, probably more behind the walls. But at the same time, telling his story was hard, and it made breaking down so easy, the very last things that he wanted to do, he had to do in this confession. He took a deep breath to try to compose himself and force the tears back, trying not to hear the whispers in his mind, what the police could possibly be saying about him, and press on with his story.

“When we were fightin, I… I threw him against a tree. I didn’t think it was that hard, but… I was wrong… he wasn’t movin… he wasn’t respondin… he wasn’t even breathin… I wanted him to be paralyzed, I really did, because even that was better than the truth… but… I knew what I’d done to him… I’d broken his back, and I’d killed him… I don’t remember how long I cried, just that we’d fought around noon, and when my eyes finally cleared, it was dark. I’d killed my best friend, officers… And… I was so hungry… I know I should have just tried to look for something else, but at that moment… I… I don’t think I cared anymore…”

“Don’t say it…” Jack mumbled quietly.

“I ate him… I ate Corey… I felt like some kind of savage animal… it was the most bitter thing I’ve ever eaten… it tasted like pennies and raw pork and was every bit as bitter as straight, black coffee… And that’s not even the worst part…” he trailed off, losing his battle against his own tears despite how hard he tried to stay composed.

Seeing him in distress like this, even if he was a wanted criminal, it almost made the two officers feel bad for him.

“What was the worst part, then?” John prompted him to keep telling his story.

“The worst part… was that they found us the next day… or, I guess… they found me the next day… Corey was nothin more than a broken, dismembered corpse… and I’d buried him, so, they never found the body… My best friend, he deserved better than that… If I’d just held off one more day, if we’d held off just one more day I wouldn’t even be here right now!”

“That’s only one killing, what about the other several over the years?” Jack interjected, standing up.

“Officers… by now you must have noticed the pattern…”

“Yes, of course we have. One to three killings, every Halloween for the past eleven years, this year being the only exception besides the years you were in prison. We’d assumed it was to disguise it as a show.”

“That’s… not quite the truth. If you remember, I told you that me and Corey fought on Halloween… I ate him on Halloween night… well… somethin must have happened that night… or maybe there was somethin in his body but… Every Halloween, I get hungry… so, so uncontrollably hungry. I spend the day fightin it off, and the night… well, you can guess…”

“Hm… well, what changed this year? Like Jack said, this is the only year, besides your prison time, when you didn’t successfully kill someone. And we got to you pretty damn late, so what was keeping you from killing someone?” John asked, leaning forward in his chair as his partner sat back down. “Did it have something to do with this?”

The brunette produced a golden amulet tucked securely in an evidence bag. The amulet had a large, circular charm with a similarly round, baby-blue gem in the center, and two flowing, feather shaped decorations on the bottom. He set it down on the table and allowed the fugitive to examine it, although a single glance showed Bob knew exactly what it was.

“Where did you get that…?”

“One of our coworkers found it while we were going through your things, checking for evidence in case someone tried to plead a case for you. Interestingly enough, it looks just like the amulet worn by the assumed cultists running around, like this one,” Jack informed Bob, placing an image of a cultist on the table for proof.

“We’ll give you a moment to collect yourself, maybe some time to let it out,” John offered, noticing how the man was still having trouble from his near-breakdown earlier, “And then, maybe you can tell us what’s going on with you and the cult.”

A whisper near the door caught the attention of the two, whipping around to see the face of one of the aforementioned coworkers, none other than Shotty themself.

“Psst, guys, we got it,” they whispered, motioning to the two.

Jack nodded as he and John stood.

“Stay put and let it out, we’ll be right back. And don’t try anything,” he warned before the two headed out, meeting up with their colleagues.

“How much you get outta that guy?” Cap questioned, peering into the one-way window at Bob, who was finally crying, now that he was under the impression that he was alone.

“A lot, but it was all how he came to be a cannibal, and his urges. Did you two get what we asked?” John asked the two.

“Yep! And can I just add, this is a great thing you two are doing, especially you, Jack. I’ve never seen you give someone a second chance before,” Shotty said as they handed the stack of papers off.

“What are you talking about? I’ve given plenty of people a second chance!” Jack argued, a little offended.

“Name one.”

“Every cop in this town?”

“There’s four cops in this town, excluding you,” Cap pointed out, “And you never needed to give John a second chance because he’s basically our boss! Oh, also, not to divert or anything, but we figured the big guy would appreciate this stuff,” he handed the two a pack of tissues and a glass of water.

“Good, thanks. You two are being… really considerate towards a criminal. Something going on?” Jack asked, a bit suspicious of their behavior.

Shotty rolled their eyes a bit. “C’mon Jack, not everyone is as mean as you. I mean, yes, he has killed, like, a lot of people, but he still deserves tissues and water. Not to mention, from what we understand, he can’t actually help it, sooooo…”

“Fair. Now, we got one more job for you,” John finally spoke up again. “We need you to go talk to the mayor about our plan. He’ll listen to you more than he listens to us, for some god-forsaken reason, so if you talk to him about it, chances are he’ll listen.”

“You got it, boss,” Cap assured him.

“We’re on it! To Evermore’s houseeee!” Shotty cheered as they and Cap left.

“Hey, wait, don't go to his-! And they’re gone… oh those two are going to get fired one day…” the brunette grumbled.

Jack chuckled quietly, shifting the papers in his arms and looking into the one-way window at a now calming Bob.

“Looks like he’s stopping, should we head back in?”

“Mhm. Time to figure out what’s going on with that cult.”

The two stepped back into the interrogation room, Jack clutching the papers to his chest and holding the door as John carried over the tissues and water for Bob, sliding them over the table to the oldest. Wiping away his tears as the door slammed shut, the killer sighed heavily, having just let out twelve years of pent-up emotions in the span of a few minutes. He took a long sip of water as John continued from earlier.

“So, now that we’ve given you some time, what can you tell us about the cult?” the brunette got straight to the point.

“Nothin… I can’t tell ya nothin,” Velseb grumbled.

“And why is that?”

“I made a promise… and I always keep my promises. A good man always does, after all…”

“Barely a good man…” Jack grumbled, setting the paperwork in his lap.

“Well, I’m a man of my word, that’s for damn sure. And my word says I’ll keep quiet about that cult. All I can tell ya is they’re far more harmless than they seem.”

“Somehow, I have trouble believing that,” John argued. “But, is there anything we could do that could possibly convince you?”

“For that, officers, you’d have to do the impossible.”

“Which is?”

“Find out how to cure whatever the hell is wrong with me…”

The partners looked at each other before nodding, a knowing look in their eyes.

“Actually, Mr. Velseb, there might be a way,” Jack informed him, placing the stack of papers on the table, sliding them over to his fellow ravenette, who gave them a skeptical look.

“What’s this?”

“Paperwork. Paperwork to get you transferred from prison to a rehabilitation facility. This could be the key to your new life, Bob. With enough effort, we could help you completely get rid of your cannibalism… curse, in a sense. You’d never have to eat another person to satiate yourself again. In a few years time, you could be living a normal life, maybe even have a family,” John explained, gently pushing the papers more towards the unwilling cannibal.

“As nice as that’d be, officers… I’m afraid my reputation has been set in stone. No matter how many years of rehab I go through, I’ll always be Bob Velseb, feared and hated serial killer… no one will trust me to be in a store, no one will trust me to be alone. I’ll be monitored by everyone, no matter how many years go by. I’ll never have a normal life, nor a family. It’s too late to change that fact. However…” he began to think further about it, “your offer is temptin. Even if I can’t have a ‘normal life’, it would be nice to not have to deal with… whatever the hell happened to me. Do ya really think it’ll work…?”

“As long as you cooperate, then I think anything is possible, including helping you,” Jack reasoned, “but we need the information only you can give us.”

“You’re askin some pretty sensitive information… these people you’re investigatin, they’re not doin anythin wrong. I know they seem odd, maybe even creepy, but in all honesty, it’s more like a lil family thing. But that’s about all I can tell ya…”

“I know you can tell us a lot more, Mr. Velseb, and we can’t give you the papers until we have everything we need. It might seem a little unfair to you, but we can’t give you any sort of reward until we get what we asked for.”

Bob sighed a bit. He hated it, but understood. He’d either have to break his promise, or live out the rest of his life with an unbearable ‘curse’ in prison, most likely solitary confinement. Frankly, one option was far preferable to the other.

“Hm. Fine, I’ll tell ya what it seems like ya need to hear.”

The two cops glanced at each other before leaning forward a bit, signifying that they were listening.

“The cult isn’t quite what ya might be thinkin it is. The cult isn’t some high-and-mighty ‘our god is the only real god’, sacrificin, blood-thirsty, cliche cult from every doomsday movie. But, one thing’s for sure… that thing, whatever the hell it is… is real. I’ve looked into the depths of the hole it’s in, and I could almost feel it lookin back at me. They wanted me to meet it, but… they were kind when I refused. They seemed to understand, they let me in anyway. The leader, he told me that they didn’t like makin people uncomfortable. That they promoted comfort and happiness in the cult. As a matter of fact, they wanted me as a scout so they could help me overcome what I went through. I help them, they help me.

“They’re like a big family, the leader actin as a dad, in a way. Said somethin bout how he has a kid at home so it’s nothin new to him, I dunno. They meet every now and again, in that house on that hill. There’s a hole in the floor there that leads right to it. I’ve never seen it personally, but some of the members described it to me. Said it looks like a giant, pinkish, broccoli lookin thing, who’s head fades into darkness above, millions of baby-blue eyes formin the stars. A huge mouth that doesn’t even look like it’s connected with huge teeth that are on the outside, and long, kinda fluffy tentacles. They’ve told me what it’s like to look into it’s eyes, or, ‘the stars’, as they call it. They’ve said it makes ya almost numb, then their memories start blurrin together. I never get a straight answer of what happens after that, except that they ‘wake up’ feelin happy and calm, and that they’re already out of the hole when they come to. In fact, it can completely change someone’s attitude and everythin. I’m actually pretty close with someone who used to be bitter and spiteful, accordin to him, but after seein that thing, he was one of the calmest, kindest people I’d ever seen.

“Maybe that’s why I agreed to their deal… maybe I thought that thing could fix me. It seems like it changes people for the better. Bout everyone there either acted like that man, or was cheerful and sweet. I thought, if nothin else, it could make me happier. But, I got scared. I wussed out. I didn’t wanna see that thing, it sounded terrifyin. But, I guess in doin so, I kinda distanced myself from them, and the odd things that they liked…”

“What kind of things?” John asked, intrigued by his descriptions.

“Well, for the most part, affection. Especially ticklin. I don’t know why, but that seems like the thing everythin is centered around in that cult. I’ll run into people who can’t so much as say the word without lightin up in the face like a Christmas tree, or people who can say it so casually that they have full-blown conversations about it. I’ll walk past two or three tickle fights each meetin, ones that, half the time, end up bein very one-sided. Sometimes I’ll even let loose and join in. Though when that usually happens, I practically get dog piled and tickled until I can’t stop laughin for damn near an hour…” he chuckled a bit to himself, “It’s fun, though… I have to admit, they’ve got a damn good idea.”

“Tickling?” Jack asked in astonishment. Something so innocent from people who he’d thought just a few minutes ago were dangerous.

“Idea?” John echoed Bob’s words, more focused on the goal of this cult.

“Mhm. Spreadin happiness through a love of ticklin. It’s said that if you don’t already like it, seein the monster makes ya love it. I, personally, don’t mind it. But it’s not a strange, super-obsessive kinda love, it’s more like a sorta… what’s the word that he used…? Hyper… hyper… hyper-something-or-other… ah, hyperfixation, yeah. Basically, it’s almost always in the back of their minds, even when they don’t know it. Accordin to them, havin this shared love, bein able to confide in each other and be genuinely vulnerable with each other is actually really nice. And they wanna share this with the town. Simple as that.”

“That’s… really it? No hostile takeover bid? No ominous prophecy? No blood sacrifices?” Jack questioned, still in disbelief.

“Didn’t I tell ya at the start? No, none of that cliche doomsday shit. They just want to turn this small town into a happy family,” Bob reiterated, slightly annoyed.

#eun writes #sm #spooky month #sm au #spooky month au #tkcau #tickle cult au #bob velseb #john #jack #shotty #cap #THIS GOT LONG

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writinggremlin · 7 months

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1, 2, 3, 5, and 7 for Kage? 👀

-- @whumperofworlds

Oh, words can not describe how happy I am that not only did you send me an ask, but you chose my favorite lil guy to whump. Kage has become my main character over the years, and I really don't know how he did that lmfao. There's just something about angsty, broody, grungy guys I guess lmfao.

Anygay, thank you so much for sending in an ask! Onto the questions! (OUGH these are good ones!)

Cw: Kidnapping, Recapture, Drowning, General Torture, quick blood mention.

1: How do you kidnap/capture your OC?

That depends, because Kage already has history with someone. Lily to be exact-- or August, as he knows her. In the event of her kidnapping him (again), it would go over surprisingly smoothly, with an uncharacteristic lack of struggle and resistance from him.

What would likely happen is that one day, while he's alone, Lily would show up at the penthouse he lives in, and knowing that he doesn't remember what she's done to him, she would ask if he wants to take a walk while they catch up. While they take the elevator down, Lily will make her move, restraining Kage's arms behind his back, and using the jacket he usually wears to cover up her work. She'd threaten tell him not to act out, to which he'd comply, as he starts getting a weird uncanny feeling about all of this. Once he's in the car, he'd get blindfolded, and off they'll go! (And then some of his memories will resurface and trigger a panic attack! :D!)

2: Are they defiant? Scared? Stoic?

It depends on who's doing the torturing, for the most part. But, assuming it's Lily, Kage would be mostly confused and scared. He'd try to hide this by acting stoic and maybe even a little defiant on occasion, but it wouldn't take much to put him back in his place if need be. Thankfully, to his benefit, Lily doesn't mind a little bit of pushback. In fact, she quite enjoys it.

If it were somebody else, he'd be more bold in his defiance. Verbally berating his captor(s), spitting on them, attempting to land a blow on them, constant attempts to escape, all the way down to things as simple as a smug look after a session. Of course, this is all still done to mask his fear. How long that mask will last, and how effective it is, is another question for another day.

3: What kind of torture methods would you use against them?

Pin him to the wall in an empty room, and start filling it with water. Grab a handful of his hair, and dunk him into a tub of water. Shove him down, and don't let him back up until he's limp.

I've also had a scenario where he's trapped in a room that gradually gets colder and colder over time. He thinks it's just normal isolation at first, until he notices that it's "a little chilly in here". And it doesn't stop; it just keeps getting colder and colder until there is frost lining the walls, and he is nothing but a pathetic, shivering little ball on the ground.

Sickness is also a super fun one with him. Just letting him get worse and worse. Toying with his life; letting him go to the brink of death, only to bring him back just enough to regain awareness, and then let him get worse all over again. (Lily fucked him up so badly with this one that he now avidly denies being sick whenever he's experiencing even the slightest symptoms of anything. He "doesn't get sick". Haha, whoosies!)

5: What do they do if you torture a loved one in front of them?

So I'm going to assume that this is a scenario where he's restrained and can't get to the person who's hurting his loved ones, while the torture is happening right in front of him. If that's the case, he's going guard dog feral. Especially if the loved one in question is Echo or his fiance. I'm talking shouting and screaming incoherent obscenities until he's spitting out blood, thrashing against restraints with reckless abandon and likely hurting himself in the process, growing, hissing, biting, pure, unbridled rage.

Once they are both out, their tormentor will have a target on their back. Kage will make it his sole mission to hunt them down and enact revenge. An eye for an eye. It's only fair.

7: Do they have a team? If so, supposed they were caught too. Do they protect their team from any torture or no?

Kage does have a support network of close friends who he is pretty loyal to, and cares about a lot. If any of them were to get captured alongside him, whether it be somebody close like Damien or Echo, or a friend like Sebastien or Mist, or even somebody who he doesn't seem to care for (or has very valid reasons not to care for them) like Onyx or even Ember, he would agree to take the blow for them if it meant their safety.

#whumpee #kage #lily #oc #oc whump #oc ask #whump ask #whump #kidnapping whump #whumpblr #whump community #angst #tw kidnapping #tw recapture #tw drowning #tw torture #The Gremlins OCs

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avocad1sh0w0 · 2 years

Text

Merry Christmas dears

As i promised

-Trees, cats, feathers and white snow-

A Scarian Christmas oneshot

3rd POV

Grian and Scar were just finishing the final details of the Christmas decorations, the white snow falling seemingly endless outside, a few hermits were playing in the snow, the colorful fairy lights were only visible because of it's glow, decorating the bases, the big Christmas tree in the middle of Boatem, right above the Boatem hole, Jellie was sleeping in the couch, peacefully, oh how Grian wanted to be in her place right now, he was decorating the Christmas tree, it was quite har for someone his height (not as if someone like him existed, well, we've got gnomes, but anygay-) making him have to fly low not to hit his head on the ceiling, and that's what was tiring, his wings were hurting from the amount of effort to keep him just above the floor, but not too high as he used to.

Scar left to get some wood for the fireplace, leaving Grian to prepare the food as Mumbo had invited all of the hermits for a Christmas dinner, everyone together, like a family.

It was almost night when he finished everything, Jellie had waken up a few minutes ago, currently eating, the blond male was sitting on the floor with a wet cloth he was using to clean in his hand, sweat dripping from his forehead, wings puffed up and in a urgent need of preening, he was really tired, he heard a curious meow coming from the gray and white cat, who was sitting in front of the tree, tail swinging from side to side agitated (cat owners will know what's about to happen) "Hey girl! What ware you doing?" Grain asked Jellie, as if she was going to answer, receiving a malicious meow from her "Oh no, please don't do this, I've been tidying this whole place up since morning" he pleaded the cat, that was going into a jump position, with a meow she jumped in the middle of the tree, making a few of the decorations fall of either cracking or breaking by whole, glass shards scattered around the floor "JELLIE, NO!" He yelled before the cat jumped out back to the floor, bringing the whole tree along, breaking everything, well, almost everything, the only thing that was intact were 2 plastic decorations one with a picture of the whole server together inside and the other with a picture of him and Scar during the mission of bringing a charged creeper into one of the shops of the diagonal alley, he held them close to his chest, as tears he didn't know he had been holding, ran down his face as he curled up in a ball, seeing all the hours of work gone in a matter of seconds, he wanted to cry, he wanted someone to tell him it was going to be okay, he wanted Scar.

Maybe his prayers were heard, cuz a few minutes later scar entered the house, his hair and clothes white because of the snow, he put the logs into the support near the fireplace (I'm Brazilian, Christmas is hot af here so I have no idea what this is called) "Honey, I'm home!" He said jokingly, his deep, joyful voice ringing in his ears, when Scar opened his eyes he saw the whole mess, and a sad, crying, pesky bird in the corner, leaving the mess behind he rushed to Grian, not even bothering to take off his boots, as it was safer since the decorations were mostly glass "Oh Grian, what happened, are you okay, are you hurt, you're a mess!" The brunet asked turning Grian's head trying to mind any cuts, pulling him I to his arms after finding none "I-i'm fine, it's just....... I tried to make everything perfect, but then..... Then Jellie jumped on the tree and destroyed everything, I could only save these two" the avian answered between soft sobs, showings his boyfriend the decorations, a smile appeared on Scar's face "I don't care about the decorations, I care about you, Christmas is not about gifts or decorating, it's about being with loved ones, and just by having you here with me, safe, in my arms, it's already a perfect Christmas, don't worry about the tree, we can buy a new one next year, how about we go to Mumbo's now, we can deal with this later, let's just clean it up" Scar said caressing the blond's face with his thumb, placing kisses on the others face, making Grain giggle, almost forgetting about the sadness "Yeah... I guess you're right, then we better start soon, this will not clean itself up!" He said trying to get up, but Scar didn't let him, not yet "Nah-ah-ah~ not before preening your beautiful wings, they're in an urgent need!" Scar demanded in a jokingly serious tone "Fine, I guess, tho, they are in a pretty need of help" giggles filled the once sad place, Scar carried Grian to their room, preening the brown wings of his boyfriend, being extra careful "I love you Scar....... I don't know what I'd do without you" The blond avian muttered "I love you too my little songbird" the brunet replied, placing a soft kiss on top of Grian's head........

-THE END-

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, THE ENERGY WENT OUT AND I DIDN'T HAVE INTERNET, ANDWHENITCAMEBACKIFORGOTALLMYIDEASANDIWASJUSTABLETOFINISHITNOWI'MSORRY?!!!!

#grian #hermitcraft #desert duo #gtws #hc grian #last life smp #trafficshipping #3rd life #hermitcraft s8 #writeblr #scarian fanfic #scarian

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richierambles · 8 months

Text

my opinion on IT ships

what??? richie tozier himself is giving hys opinion on getting shipped with his friends??? more likely than you think ;3 basically i was bored and currently procrastinating switching out so our academic can study (hate my life get me back to derry yall</3) BUT ANYGAY XD here we go ✨✨✨

Reddie: 7/10 I have a complicated opinion on this one. The fandom loves it, and as a concept? Sure it's fucking awesome. BUT. I've had a Bad experience dating an Eddie fictive, I won't say much besides that our old host (hate his ass) basically forced me into that relationship just bc he shipped reddie and that caused a shit ton of trouble 😃 But anygay I still ship it as long as I myself am not part of the relationship XD (I'm. actually writing a reddie fic rn. XD)

Stenbrough: 7.5/10 Another fandom favorite! The way I see it, they'd be sweet af. Like, healthiest relationship ever been. What's wrong with it then? The same thing as reddie, Belle (our Bill fictive, mtf, she/her, misgender and/or deadname her and imma be after your ass<3 and not in the MrsK way) got forced into a relationship with a Stan fictive, but it went So Much Worse than mine for some reason TwT And welp I still ship it but kinda eh-ish (the 0.5 it has more than reddie is bc im not in the ship XD)

Benverly: 6/10 I need y'all to know, I'm talking about IT 2017, not about the adult Losers. Adult benverly get a 9/10 at least, but teen benverly? I don't see it. I don't think bev is ok enough to have a healthy relationship, and I'm pretty sure they'd end the same way as most highschool sweethearts - breaking up. Though, I'm pretty sure they'd be sweeter than stenbrough for the time they lasted

Billverly: 3/10 1. POOR BEN????😭 2. In my exomemories they actually tried it and broke up (in good terms) like 2 months later so- nah they don't work XD

Steddie: 9/10 Stan x Eddie not the ST one 💀 our system's steddie are dating, another system's steddie are ALSO dating, and I can tell you they're a super healthy and sweet relationship. Basically the best one, but the fandom doesn't almost make content of them which sucks ass 🥲

Stan x Richie (idk the ship name 😭): 8/10 YES. I remember having crushed on Stan for So Much Time. Like. Not as much time as crushing on Eds (nor that big of a crush) but almost there. Stan is just so pretty ok XD

Bike: 2/10 2 points just because of the ship name, Mikey is aroace and I'll die on that hill<3

Bill x Eddie: 5/10 If we're talking about the book? Fuck yeah. If we're talking about the movies? Fuck no.

Bichie: 10/10 This is just because of my half-requited crush on Belle. Literally just because of that. I don't even make/read content of it. I've just been crushing on her for like 9 months that's the entire reason for this ship 😭

Connor x Richie: 0/10 No. Nothing else to say. Connor, at least in my exomemories, was a fucking ass and doesn't deserve me<3

Poly Losers Club: 1/10 We're Friends, poly feels weird 😭 how would even a polycule of Seven people work??😭 (no offense to people who are in polycules just. too many people with too many different sexualities. i can't see it XD) I'll still admit, I've consumed content of it just because I couldn't find what I was looking for in the other ships' tags TwT

Platonic Beverly x Richie: 100/10 PLATONIC, romantic would be weird af but PLATONICALLY dating Bev is awesome she's the best<3 (If anyone's curious, yes I'm platonically married to our system's Bev XD)

If y'all wanna see my opinions on any other ship, just ask! Or on anything else tbh, I love rambling about my source XD

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pikawarrior · 1 year

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Welcome back to reaper talks bitches, i just finished my first playthrough of Shadows Over Loathing and have already started on my second and

Oh.

My.

Gods.

I fucking love this game. I mean its made by the people who made of my favorite games ever, West of Loathing so yeah im gonna enjoy it.

But this, this is new, this limits me in sooo many different ways but also opens up the game in ways i couldnt have imagined

[Alot of spoiler filled ramblings of a mad man slightly broken by a weird time/dimension loop that are only vaguely understandable under the cut]

Okay first off, not picking you class right at the very very start is great weirdly enough, atleast for me.

It gave me time to see the world through the basic unfiltered lens of someone who has an idea whats to come cuz of me playing the previous game but also no clue as the game hasnt given me any story yet.

Literally, it starts off with you having a copy of LOOK magazine on your face. You also get to really choose your look or well hair situation mainly, you're a stick person hair and accessories are all you got and its early game soooo

But anygays, it doesnt give you story till thr bus ride and even then you dont know your class or if there will even be classes!

I choose pigskinner or whatever my head is running at a million miles per hour rn cuz this hyperfixation is really new and free so double the speed of thoughts

And yeah i could have tried something new especially since 2 out of my 3 wol saves were that game's pigskinner class (cow puncher(?)) But come on, i like my familiar class also i suck as magic/effect heavy builds outside of my spamming of stuff like bleed or on fire

But anygays, the uncursing stuff is super fun tho pretty confusing. Thankfully you cant mess them up to my knowledge, they really test you puzzle skilss and you remembering that most things in this game are interactable (very very important)

Also omg i love any chance to piss a narrator and there are some great ones, the main ones that i can remember rn is the one about you working at all these different places and even being employee of the month despite you either being super young or not born at that time. And the one about you digging wet globs of hair out of sinks, mainly at frat houses. Gross i know, but i fucking dug through every single spittoon in wol, nothing can stop me anymore

The narrator def regrets following this dumbass (me) around but they cant leave so HA

But back to the uncursing, the sickle curse was actually super scary. Like that scarecrow was after ME, not the person i was currently in the body of, no he was after ME, my character also nick come on buddy you dont take loans/favors from The Shadows, thats like rule #265, your ass deserved a lawnmowing.

Also wtf i got sent the lawnmower i made with a note that said "see you in 66 years" or something like that. Like HELLO???? WHICH BITCH GOT MY ADDRESS AND WHO WANTS A PIECE OF ME AND MY LAWNMOWER

Seriously the sickle curse was hands down the scariest part of a game ive played in years and ive somewhat play resident evil 7

Also gods i love the to do list, don't get me wrong i loved asking my companions for reminders but this is super convenient and go for when my companion cant you know, accompany me somewhere

Plus being able see everything together and whats a main quest vs a side quest helps. And making my own notes in game helps since i still havent gotta a notebook for my gaming notes yet

Also the whole thing with the mob was great, 10/10 i love being chaotic and getting paid the big bucks for it. Seriously its worth it and theres even some more pacifist options in those quest lines to. Im very much a nice person to my core despite my nature darkness and chaos, so being able to handle things nicely or well with limited blood shed is nice. Also helps with you, like me, tend to avoid battles you dont gotta fight. Its also a nice puzzle sometimes cuz i cant just shove like 9 different thing down my throat and kick ass. Its one potion and one food at a time.

The combat is definitely different but more in a "its harder to be able to wipe everyone out in seconds" then a "heres a whole new system to learn good luck"

In wol its stupidly easy atleast for me to become a lesser god and wipe out half the map basically even during early game. Tho thats mainly cuz of my past experience and cuz i was raised really good and weirdly so my skills work with this-

But in sol the fights are actually pretty tough, i found myself really rationing my items out even in late game but also heavily relying on them and effects

Which btw go fucking on items and stuff that cause effects like bleed and on fire, trust me its actually kinda necessary

Also the last(?) fight (and the optional golem fight) are like stupidly hard even with all tbr help (finale(?)) While the golem is apparently a push over yet also god number two idk im working on it, apparently they didnt play test it and honestly it kinda shows (neutral)

ALSP WTF IS THAT BITCH AT THE FUNAL LIKE HOKY HELL DO NOT BE AFIARD MY ASS THAT A BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL WITHOUT WINGS RIGHT THERE AND ITS ABOUT TO SEND ME TO HELL PERSONALLY

Also i fucking lost, i can go back but i decided to learn from my mistakes by starting fresh instead of fixing them after they've already been made

AND im gonna help more people, im gonna save those two kids from that monster that haunts their family, im gonna help rufus find my past/other self from the first game, IM GONNA HELP EVERYONE I CAN ESPECIALLY THE ONES I FAILED BEFORE

Reaps now signing off to work on MEP parts see yall in like another 6 months

#reaperspeaks #shadows over loathing #i need to buy all my friends a copy of wol and sol now like 100% now not just a maybe some day if i convince them #no thats the main gift option this year

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fairyhaos · 1 year

Note

yena !! i hope u still remember me ʕ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ it's the wind chime anon !! 🎐

how have u been omg (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) i had my exams last month n i have da notifs on for way too many blogs on here so i just uninstalled tumblr instead,,, but im back now (i was about to send this ask sooner (2 days ago ?) but i was a bit scared lmao,,, but i just saw ur post about shua so i had to come and say hi >:3) but wahh congrats on all ur milestones ! before i left i think u were about to start ur 500 followers event ! ! n i think u crossed 1234 already !! and probably even more ! that's supa cool n 'm so so proud of you ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა also i love love love ur new theme *ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩

ooo n about finding jeonghan's colour,,, u looked at his pictures to figure out what colour he is ?? that's super intriguing actually. bcs the thing is idk if i have this type of synesthesia,,, im afraid what im doing is just strongly associating colours with people ? like the aspects of their personality play a major role in determining their colour but similar to the process of getting to know someone, it's v hard for me to decide on their colour. for example, jihoon. it's like, , the more i see him the more i feel like i don't even know him yk? for hansol, even tho i don't know what his colour is, i can at least tell that his colour would most prolly be a cooler shade. but for jihoon n sometimes even mingyu i can't rly figure them out? it's like i have options but i don't know for sure. n i don't rly know if this is synesthesia ?? lmdoajdjska i think i should just take the test by synesthesia battery but im just scared lmao </3

anygays i read the rest of your synesthesia posts and wahh, , yena ur just so talented. ur so cool ! ! i rly don't know what else to say. you have a way w words and it's as if i can feel the colors permeating through the descriptions. honestly it's such a gift to be able to share your vivid perception with others and i just wanna thank u for that (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) i have sm to say about each member's colour and esp shua's but this got rly long so i'll do that in another ask ?? heh >:3

-🎐

WIND CHIME ANON OMGGGG YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU :<

i hope you've been doing okay!! how did your exams go????? literally i'd be sitting here and just thinking :(( i hope wind chime anon is doing okay in this world :(( haha ive missed you sm

it's okayy there's no need to be scared im super nice!! (i think?) thank u sm for loving my new theme too haha i love it a lot as well

and abt jeonghan: yeah! honestly synaesthesia is a really really different experience for anyone so i like to think of it as one of those sexuality labels. if you feel like it fits, then you're allowed to use it! those tests online are sketchy af anyways unless you wanna pay for a Real and Scientific Test

i think assigning colours to vibes and personalities is very interesting though!! i don't think i could do that haha, personalities have always just been so complex and different for me that a colour just doesn't come to mind at all (i don't think my synaesthesia works in that way lmao) so that's really really fascinating! honestly tho,,, im also struggling w jihoon too and maybe that's bc i haven't spent several minutes just Staring at his face yet but i just have a gut feeling that he's gonna be one tough cookie

aww thank u so much please that's so lovely to hear ^^ that really makes me the happiest oml, being told that people are able to feel my writing and my descriptions <3

aww yess please do lmk what you think of the others !! it's so nice to see you in my inbox again 💗

#fairyhaos.answers #ask #anon ask #🎐.anon <3 #lovely anon <3

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absolutebl · 5 months

Text

GMMTV'S BL Line Up - Part 2

Presented in order of trailers I find most appealing:

youtube

The Heart Killers

FirstKhao & JoongDunk

Jojo directing an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao, and that we have a at take on Taming of the Shrew for that pair. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only really seen tackled in m/m romance (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited my only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so...

I genuinely dithered over whether this one should be first. Still it was the only trailer I grinned the whole way through, and had to watch 2x, so it takes top spot for me, but closely followed by a surprise silver medal...

youtube

Thame-Po (Heart that Skips a Beat)

EstWilliam

A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV but I've been getting a fatigued by celebrity BL of late. However, after watching the trailer I'm 100% in on this show. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea, Japan, and Thailand have systemically disappointed me over the past 2 years). Bring it, boys.

youtube

Revamp the Undead Story

BounPrem

GMMTV have taken on this IP about a vampire prince and the human who awakens him that was with WabiSabi. Interesting that GMMTV are bring out two vampire BLs as a result. This one involves a coven (hello, who called it way back in 2019? Me. I DID.) Anygay, coven includes Santa (no lies spotter with that one).

(Previously: Vampire Project from Wabi Sabi - trailer now removed, also previously My Broccoli)

Wonder if they will tank that JossGawin one? There'd likely be rioting in the streets if they did. But they might just let it fade away.

youtube

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist

MarkOhm

Finally Mark is leading out a BL! This one based on a Jittirain novel about a weird sunshine student dentist and his sugar-addicted patient, described as a romcom meets romantic therapy. Also, Jimmy is there, primarily to give me second lead syndrome. It looks silly but kinda earnest, I'm intrigued.

youtube

Perfect 10 Liners

ForceBook, PerthChimon, JuniorMark

New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. Massive cast. ForceBook playing the same old characters. Enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing. PerthChimon are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope. JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).

Not sure if these will be interwoven (My Engineer style) or shorter stand alones (Y-Destiny style).

youtube

The Ex-Morning

SingtoKrist

This is an original script written just for the OG, direct by Lit (SOTUS) about a news reporter plagued by scandal must work with his ex-boyfriend to rebuild his reputation. A reunion romance that's hitting pretty close to the IRL pair branded mark.

I've never claimed these two had any kind of chemistry and that would appear to still be the case. I think this one will bore me silly. I'm contemplating a trash watch but feel that's best reserved for...

youtube

Ossan‘s Love Thailand

EarthMix

WHY MUST THIS BE?!! I really don't like this IP but I still HAVE OPINIONS (of course I do) Look, I doubt even legendary EarthMix can save Ossan for me.

Shall I explain? Too much, let me sum up:

It's a terrible script based entirely on an unsympathetic love triangle, the viability of the whole show actually hinges on the boss character so he MUST be likable, because the lead is an unsympathetic looser (and user of people), and the roommate/love interest has no personality. Looks like this version is doing the same. ALSO Earth is grossly miss-cast. (On the other hand, maybe I'll like it more because of that, I would rather my H were toned down a bit.) Finally... where tf are my ladies? The female characters were the best thing about the original.

Of course I'll still watch it. I'm trash.

My order based on descriptions (and biases) before watching trailers was:

The Heart Killers

Revamp

Sweet Tooth

Perfect 10 Liners

ThamePo

The Ex-Morning

Ossan’s Love Thailand

Now that we have finally gotten part 2 I have only one burning question left for GMMTV.

Why didn't my man Thor get to lead something, damn it?

I will also take this as an opertunity to remind you all that my predictions about my own taste are notorious terrible.

(source)

#GMMTV line up #new bl #upcoming BL #forthcoming BL #2024 bl #GMMTV #Thai BL #The Heart Killers #ThamePo #Sweet Tooth #Revamp #Perfect 10 Liners #The Ex-Morning #Ossan’s Love Thailand #FirstKhao #JoongDunk #BounPrem #vampire bl #Youtube

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novastellavox · 8 months

Text

Hi, this is a rant. Viewer discretion is advised.

I've not had any work for not just weeks or months.... but a full year. And my parents say "You have vacation while we're working" and I get that... But I'm tired of it.

And no! I can't just 'get a job' or whatever. Working a 9-5 would end up with mad sexual tension between the tip of a knife and my ribcage. So that's a big fucking no for me.

I got adhd and autism... If I try to do a mini-job, I'll make it my entire personality until I inevitably get fired or fire a bullet into my skull because it's sucking my soul out of my body like it's a boba baha blast. I can't work social jobs like 'working behind the register' or 'customer support' or 'door saleswoman'.

My local job agency actually told me that I am not allowed to work jobs with necessary social interaction, intense stress, deadlines / time limits, inflexible work hours, long commute, or any sort of office job. Why? For fear of my safety and job longevity.

I don't have a driver's license yet for unrelated reasons... which basically means I can only really get a job in my town of roughly 14-20k people. You'd think there'd be a job fitting my needs.. and there are a few...

But

One of em rejected my applications two times... can't go back there... and the other doesn't train people.

Anygays... This is why I've been unemployed for one year. So why am I saying all of this?

I'm losing the ability to work for any amount of time.. I had driving lessons today ... 2 hours

When I'm tired, I easily get 'seconds of unawareness' even with medication.

And at the end of those driving lessons, I almost drove of the road TWICE. I am losing any amount of stress tolerance I have.

I am fucking tired. It's now the evening.. and I have no empathy or energy left.

0 notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Lie to Me

Prompts: Post Pof: Janus is not doing ok, everday he can taste Roman's lies, he can feel Roman's pain. He can feel the ego crumbling. Guilt plagues him as hes done the opposite of protecting the ego. Hey uh... could you write a fic when you have the time? - meltheromanstan

Roman is having issues trying to keep up his facade (and maybe struggling with his work cause ADHD makes everything difficult on top of everything because I love the idea of the twins having ADHD) and he is one bump in the road away from a full on meltdown. And Janus realizes a lie in a conversation that’s concerning and at some point in Roman begrudgingly gives a self deprecating reason and Janus is like heck no and Roman’s like why not and Janus is like because i care? And then Roman breaks down because no one has told him anything like that in a long time. Sorry that’s so long. You can write this whenever, or never if you don’t wanna. Anygay, bye and thank you! - anon

Thank you for the requests! oh this poor man. roman i'm so sorry you didn't do anything to deserve this and here I am hurting you. I'm so sorry bb you need to be wrapped up with a hot chocolate and sat far away from everything.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-hatred, self-doubt, poor roman’s got so much internalized hatred this poor man, some things that can be interpreted as self-harm but nothing explicit

Pairings: main focus on roceit but it can be platonic or romantic you decide, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 10,554

Janus hears every single lie in the Mindscape. It doesn't matter whether or not the liar believes it to be true or knows it's a falsehood; if it isn't true, he hears it.

Roman lies. A lot.

Or: 5 times Janus had to hide that he was taking care of Roman, and 1 time he didn't.

They never gave Roman enough credit for how good of an actor he can be.

The wedding is an absolute dumpster fire. The aftermath is a nuclear explosion. Roman sinks out in silence, long before the video is over. Virgil never shows up, neither does Remus. Logan is cut off before he can realize it.

Well, that’s not true.

Janus cuts Logan off before he can realize it.

Because he didn’t care about them, no. Patton has the most influence over Thomas. Patton is the one who influences the other Sides more than they realize most of the time. And Patton is the one who needed to listen.

So it didn’t matter that the others weren’t there when Janus had to talk to Patton and Thomas, because it worked. Thomas listened, Patton finally understood, and things could start getting better.

…or so he thought.

In fairness, the others came around…fairly quickly. He approached Logan with a book on philosophy and an apology on his lips, only to be swept up into a conversation that had drawn both Patton and Virgil into the living room by the end of the day. It felt…well, right isn’t the correct word, but…warm, perhaps. Yes, let’s go with warm.

Of course, Remus belly-flopping onto the couch—and the rest of them—near the end was certainly an additional factor.

But Roman…

Janus didn’t expect Roman to forgive him. Certainly not quickly. He certainly expected Roman to forgive the others for whatever little parts they played in harming the prince’s precious ego. And he absolutely expected the prince to admit that he was wrong, that it was indeed his fault that everything had gone so spectacularly wrong.

The first time Roman walks into the kitchen after the wedding, Janus flinches.

Virgil notices and all but jumps in front of him, snarling a ‘what do you want?’ in Roman’s direction. Patton had turned around and his smile had frozen, staring at Roman.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan says cooly, “may we help you?”

“Yeesh, aren’t you lot jumpy this morning?” Roman shakes his head and sighs dramatically. “I am not here to grace you all with my glorious presence, simply to grab a little food and depart on a quest!”

“Thank god,” Virgil mutters, too low for Roman to hear.

He pushes Janus behind him as Roman waltzes into the kitchen to take something out of the cupboard.

“…when will you be back,” Patton asks warily, “and where are you going?”

“Into the Imagination, my dear Padre!” Roman spreads his arms wide. “To see where the spirit of adventure takes me!”

“That answers only one of the questions.” Logan closes his notebook sharply.

“Time is a social construct,” Roman says airily, “but I suppose I shall try to return for dinner?”

“Don’t force yourself,” Virgil snarks, crossing his arms, “looks hard enough already.”

Roman just laughs and leaves.

“Goodness,” Patton mumbles, leaning on the counter, “I didn’t expect him to be so—so—“

“Roman?” Virgil rolls his eyes. “Princey’s got a head bigger than a fucking balloon—“

“Language.”

“—and he’s not gonna come down to earth for anything.”

“Roman is—or can be—remarkably immature when it comes to admitting his mistakes,” Logan adds, “it’s not to be completely unexpected that he is still in denial.”

Patton sighs. “I know, I just…expected better.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Virgil huffs, “what about you, Janus? Are you hurt?”

“I also noticed you flinch,” Logan says, standing, “are you alright? Did Roman…”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he, kiddo?”

No. No, Janus is absolutely fine right now.

The instant Roman had appeared in the doorway, the lies slammed into Janus.

They hate you, they never want to see you again.

Everything is your fault.

Virgil is right to try and shield Janus from you, you were so fucking cruel to him.

They don’t deserve to be burdened with you.

Leave. Leave so they never have to put up with you. You know they don’t want you.

They’ve never wanted you.

And yet, as clearly as he heard those lies, he heard Roman, the blustery, pompous Prince, loud as ever, spoiled as ever. He saw Roman, the swaggering adventurer, the cocky Creativity who was always right, always the center of attention.

The actor.

Janus had definitely given him enough credit for that.

“Janus?”

Right, they’re still waiting for an answer.

“I’m fine,” he says, a beat too late, “just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Virgil eyes him suspiciously. “You’re lying.”

“Well of course I am,” Janus sighs, rolling his eyes, “it’s not like Deceit is one of my primary functions, after all.”

“Kiddo,” Patton says, “you know you can tell us if Roman—if someone hurts you, right?”

Something pinches just under his chin. “I know.”

“…so?”

He shakes his head. “Roman hasn’t hurt me, nor has he threatened to.”

Virgil bumps his shoulder. “Just…keep us in the loop, okay?”

“Because it’s very likely that Roman will hurt me.”

The others chuckle or brush it off. Of course, they did. When they aren’t paying attention, Janus lets his gaze trail up the stairs, following the line where the prince vanished. The others have never paid much attention to when Roman returns from his ‘quests.’

Janus does.

Even if Janus weren’t consciously coming to the prince’s aid, he’s certain he’d be summoned regardless.

He waits, quiet in the shadows, for the telltale squeak of the lower hinge on the red wardrobe door in Roman’s room. He’s learned to keep still, keep quiet, not yet fully materialized, watching as Roman stumbles back through the door, one of his arms sagging in relief as the other holds him up. The door creaks shut and a shuddering breath leaves the prince’s chest.

His head bows.

Before the charade completely falls away, Roman pushes himself up and starts getting ready to sleep. His sash, normally laid so carefully over the back of his chair, is given barely a second thought as he throws his costume onto the floor. Janus winces at the slam of the bathroom door and again at the way Roman all but collapses into the bed with a miserable expression on his face. He doesn’t need to pry away the pillow to know that Roman is desperate.

Stupid, stupid, worthless prince.

Not even a fucking prince, not even the fucking squire.

Useless, can’t even do your fucking job.

Can’t even stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself even though you know damn well you don’t deserve it.

You don’t deserve anything.

Janus grits his teeth and waits. Waits for Roman’s lies to grow less vitriolic, more sluggish, waits for Roman’s breathing to even out, sagging against the pillow, before he moves.

His footsteps are silent as he crosses the room, keeping a wary eye on the door, lest someone else knock and wake up the now sleeping prince. He swallows, leaning down, his lips barely brushing the curve of Roman’s ear.

He doesn’t touch, doesn’t want to risk waking him now.

“You’re not stupid, Roman,” he whispers, barely loud enough to be heard, even by himself. “You’re not worthless, you’ve never been worthless.”

Roman shifts in his sleep. Janus freezes. He stills and he breathes out. Bends just a little closer.

“And you deserve to know that.”

Even if he can only even whisper it when Roman is too deep in sleep to hear him.

The lies don’t stop. They just get worse.

Fortunately, Janus’s powers aren’t limited by the physical space, not when the lies are particularly pervasive. For example, every time Logan insists that he doesn’t have feelings, or Virgil insists he doesn’t care about the others, or Patton says—particularly passionately—that everything’s fine, Janus hears it. These ones typically merit a scoff and a roll of the eyes, or a quip if he’s actually in the same room. These ones he’s used to.

Here’s the thing about the lies that Janus can hear; it doesn’t matter whether or not they’re lies that someone knows is a lie or whether it’s something they believe. If it isn’t true, Janus will hear it.

Case in point: Roman’s lies, and the lies that took Janus far too long to figure out were lies.

When he decides to tune into Roman’s mind, he’s normally greeted with statements lauding about how amazing the prince is, how he’s the best Side, how much he loves himself. Even when he’s not paying particular attention to Roman, he can hear those sentiments loud and clear.

The issue with that? He can hear them loud and clear.

Now, is it likely that these are things that Roman believes that aren’t true? The possibility exists.

Is it more likely, given recent…developments, that these are things that Roman has known aren’t true, and is intentionally thinking them in order to keep playing a role?

No, of course not, why would you ever think that?

They won’t go away. He can barely look at Roman now, can’t stop seeing, hearing all the lies he tells himself every day. The others are starting to worry, growing colder towards Roman, concerned about how much Janus tries to put distance between them. Virgil keeps shoving himself in between the two of them, Logan keeps pulling Janus into long conversations that Roman wouldn’t dare insert himself into, Patton makes sure the two of them are never alone.

Well, almost never alone.

The lies are the worst at night. When Roman is in his room, curled up under the covers, his head buried in his hands, they roam freely, coloring the red curtains with shadows, smearing themselves over his paintings, his drawings, his writing, his keyboard.

They’re right to be scared of you, right to hate you.

You don’t deserve their forgiveness, especially when you haven’t even apologized for the amount of things you’ve done wrong.

And you’re selfish enough to want a fucking apology from them?

Janus, waiting in the corner for Roman to fall asleep, winces, the strength and magnitude of the lie filling his mouth with bitterness.

Does he deserve an apology from Roman? Yes, perhaps, that would be nice. Laughing at his name in a moment of vulnerability was…perhaps not ideal.

But the idea that Roman doesn’t deserve an apology? From any of them?

Roman, the only one who consistently defers and gives and tries and hopes for them, the one who works nonstop to make sure they have something, anything to do, for Thomas, for each other, the only one who’s called out to apologize to them, who apologizes to them when he realizes he’s done something wrong?

Roman deserves an apology. If only to make up for the amount of times he’s been blamed for something that someone else started.

A noise.

Janus blinks, coming back to the present as Roman stirs. For a moment, he worries that the prince has woken up, that he’s discovered someone else in his room, only for a trail of sluggish lies to funnel into his mind.

Janus hates you more than anyone else and he’s right to.

You hurt Janus on purpose.

You never stop hurting Janus.

You will always be someone he can use, a puppet, until you are nothing more than an obstacle.

Before he can stop himself, he’s striding across the room to murmur in Roman’s ear again, chest aching with the weight of the lies.

“The others,” he murmurs, flooding the words with as much sincerity as he can, “they don’t know what I can hear, what they have never noticed, and that is what hurts me, my prince, that you are so quiet and so brave that you can convince the world that you’re not suffering.”

Roman clutches his pillow a little tighter.

“I don’t hate you, my prince, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me like that, and I know—“ he takes a deep breath— “I know that the hurt you caused me is nothing compared to what I have done to you.”

He closes his eyes and feels the guilt well up in his chest. He knows he can’t say the full apology that Roman needs—that he deserves right now. He can’t even begin to imagine all the little things he hasn’t even realized he’s done to Roman, how many things he’s done that he’s forgotten that were just another Tuesday to him, but rewrote entire chapters of Roman’s life.

He can’t begin to imagine how much of this could’ve been stopped if only he’d realized just how hurt Roman has always been.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry that I never realized how far I let this get.”

Roman is touch-starved, he realized, horrified one day when he walks into the living room to see Logan and Patton sitting on the couch, Virgil sprawled across their laps, and Roman in the corner, far away from everyone else, hiding such a look of heartbreak that Janus almost stops in the doorway as Remus brushes past him.

“Hey!” Virgil splutters when Remus lies down on top of him.

“Remus!” Patton pushes lightly at him. “You’re going to squish Virgil!”

“He’s durable, he’s used to it.”

Logan raises his eyebrows, looking to Janus for confirmation. Janus sighs.

“I can remember every single time I’ve walked into our living room to see the two of them on the couch,” he says dryly, “and I’m certain that all of them have started with Remus asking Virgil’s permission to lie on top of him for hours.”

“See?” Remus wraps his arms around Virgil. “He’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, Pat and L’s knees won’t be though.”

“Ooh! Did you know that some people have a third bone in their knee?”

“I would be more than happy to follow this train of conversation,” Logan mutters, “if you were to get off my lap.”

“Fine.”

Janus shakes his head again as Remus clambers off, landing cross-legged next to Logan on the couch and immediately info-dumping. Virgil sighs and scoots, laying his head in Patton’s lap and going back to his phone. Patton runs his hand through Virgil’s hair and wiggles his free hand at Janus.

“Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

Remus snorts, interrupting his tirade long enough to say: “Jan-Jan’s not a cuddler,” before going back to talking about…something to do with knees. Patton frowns.

“What?”

“’S true.” Virgil peers up at him. “He’ll hug you if you ask for it but he’s not big on cuddling.”

“O-oh.”

“He should still come sit with us, though,” Virgil says quickly, shooting Janus a very subtle look, “so get over here, J.”

Janus sits, pulling out his book and opening it. After a few seconds, Patton looks away, and Virgil tunes out again.

Good.

The lies were getting a little too hard to stand.

Here, behind his book, he can shift his attention to Roman, scribbling in his notebook and looking every bit the creative genius at work, dead to the world, couldn’t give less interest as to what’s going on around him.

As he said, Roman is a fantastic actor.

This time, it’s not even that the words are the thing hurting him now. No, these lies are the type he’s more used to, someone frantically muttering the same thing to themselves over and over and over, trying to convince themselves it’s true. The problem is what’s being carried with the lies, and how deep this need must run in order for it to make it to Janus.

I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it.

Roman’s hand is trembling a little on his pen as his brow furrows, eyes skating back and forth over the page. The ache starts just under his chin, right where it meets his throat, and surges, rushing through his arms to the very tips of his fingers. All of them, even the hidden ones. His gloves twitch on the pages of the book.

He’s so cold.

I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t need it.

The words start to blur together. It hurts. His arms ache. He risks looking more openly at Roman only for him to notice, looking back and quirking an eyebrow.

“Something wrong, Deceit?”

“He has a name,” Virgil growls.

“Janus,” Roman amends, shooting Virgil a glance, “is there something wrong?”

“Why’re you over there?”

He meant to ask why Roman wasn’t sitting with the other Sides. He meant to ask whether Roman chose to sit by himself and starve himself of physical contact or if the others had cut him off. He meant to ask if Roman wanted to come to sit with the rest of them.

Instead, Roman smiles.

“You’re right. It’s getting quite late. I must be off!”

Before Janus can say anything, Roman assumes his dramatic pose and sinks out, cheerily declaring his farewells.

Next to him, Patton lets out a shaky breath.

“Goodness.”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “Quite.”

“Thanks, Janus,” Virgil mutters, making himself more comfortable, “I thought he’d never leave.”

No.

No, no, no, this is all wrong.

“Why did you want him to leave?”

Virgil shrugs. “It’s harder when he’s here.”

“Harder how?”

“We do not know how to act around Roman,” Logan admits, fixing his tie, “he’s not—well, he seems content to behave as if nothing is wrong, and…”

“It’s not,” Patton says softly. He fiddles with his hands. “We can’t go back to the way it was before, and Roman…Roman doesn’t seem to know how to move on.”

Virgil snorts. “Not that he seems to care enough to try.”

Well, if the lies still plaguing Roman’s thoughts are any indication…

Why would they want to touch you? You ruin everything you touch, haven’t you ruined enough already? Haven’t you ruined them enough already?

They’re done trying with you. They hate you. It’s a wonder they only realize it now.

Broken, useless, toxic prince. Finally left out in the cold where you deserve to be.

Roman curls up under his thin sheet, the heavy blankets put away for the colder seasons too far away and too close to Patton’s room for him to get them safely. Janus watches as he twitches miserably, curling up tighter, turning over, hugging his pillow to his chest, trying, trying to feel warm. Every now and then there’s a quiet noise, quickly stifled. His arms start to ache again, not just from the cold, but from how much Roman seems to believe that no one wants to touch him.

He makes up his mind.

He sinks out to his room, quickly grabbing one of his weighted blankets from his own storage. Returning to Roman’s room, he waits with bated breath until Roman’s chest rises and falls at a steady rate before carefully creeping forward and spreading the blanket over the prince.

“Don’t make yourself cold,” he murmurs, tucking it into place, “stay warm for me, my prince, stay warm, it’s alright.”

Roman shifts, turning his head so it accidentally brushes Janus’s hand.

Janus freezes.

Roman hums slightly and falls back asleep. Shaking, Janus moves his fingers, letting them card through Roman’s hair. The prince mumbles and doesn’t wake.

He does it again, firmer this time. Roman all but melts under this, just this, just a proper blanket over him and someone running their fingers through his hair.

“Oh, Roman,” Janus murmurs, unable to resist cupping Roman’s face in his hand, “you’re don’t ruin everything you touch, far from it.”

He cups the back of Roman’s head, guiding it to a more comfortable angle.

“On the contrary,” he whispers, “you make us better.”

And maybe…maybe he can try and provide a little of what Roman needs. Even if they have to be stolen moments, felt only on the very edges of sleep, when Roman is conscious enough to remember them but not lucid enough to lie and say he doesn’t deserve it.

The time when Roman barely managed to stumble through the door in his room before passing out is the only time Janus seriously considers calling the others to help.

But no, he reminds himself as he rushes to the prince’s side, they would want to wake him up, to scold him, to figure out exactly what he thought he was doing, whether or not he’s considered whether this is hurting Thomas.

Janus bites back a growl as he starts examining the prince.

Perhaps if they were so concerned about whether or not hurting Roman hurts Thomas, they’d be more considerate about what they say to him.

He pushes that away for now, more focused on getting Roman’s tight collar away from his neck and checking the state of his bruises. From what he can see from the dirt on the costume, he’s fallen, from quite a significant height, and who knows what else might be hiding under here?

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he looks around for something to help, “but I may have to peel you out of these.”

Sure enough, he can get most of the costume top off fairly easily—and gains a newfound respect for how difficult it must be to put the thing on by himself, there are so many buttons—but the undershirt proves more difficult, especially as it seems to be stuck in places that it should not be stuck in.

…oh.

Oh, no.

Janus bites back a curse and moves quickly. One arm reaches for the first aid kit he knows is in the bathroom, one arm grabs a pillow and stuffs it under Roman’s head, two gently move his arms up and over his head, and two carefully, carefully take the edge of the undershirt and beginning to take it off.

He presses a gauze pad to the wound over Roman’s hip.

He holds an ice pack to the swollen lump on his rib cage.

He checks over the wound on his chest.

He tilts Roman’s head from side to side to see how far up the bruises go.

The pants have to come next and Janus grits his teeth, running his hand over Roman’s forehead as an apology before he shucks the article of clothing.

More bruises. So many bruises. Thankfully no more bleeding wounds.

He lets out a breath and sits back on his haunches, staring down at the injured prince.

The best thing about it, he decides, is that there’s no way for Roman to know that he would’ve been safe passing out and not taking care of any of these.

The wound on his hip has all but stopped bleeding as Janus tends to it carefully, wiping away the blood and soothing the angry skin with a balm, covering the whole thing with a bandage. The mark on his chest isn’t as bad as it looks, bits of dead skin that Janus clears away and brushes off Roman’s torso. The antiseptic makes him hiss a little and he rubs soothing circles into his tummy until he resettles, murmuring that he’s doing so well, he’s almost done, they’ll get him into bed and he can rest.

None of the bruises on his legs are bad enough to merit bruise cream, let alone keeping the poor thing from his bed for a moment longer. Instead, Janus quickly covers the one on his ribs and lifts the prince into his arms.

Roman jolts.

“Shh, shh,” Janus murmurs, stroking a free hand through his hair, “shh, shh, shh…”

Roman shushes, just in time for Janus to lie him down and tuck him in, one hand still in his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed. A furrow grows between his brows.

Should’ve gotten hurt worse.

Janus freezes.

Should’ve let them hit you more.

Got off too easy.

It should hurt more. You deserve it. Maybe if you pay enough it’ll get better.

“No, sweetie,” Janus whispers, reaching out before he can stop himself and cradling Roman’s sleeping head in his hands, “no, no, no, don’t ever believe that we want to see you hurt.”

Shouldn’t have come back.

Shouldn’t be a burden.

At least none of the others know about it, they would only complain and ignore you. Useless, worthless prince.

“You’re not worthless, sweetie,” Janus promises, still cradling the poor thing’s head, running his fingers through his hair to keep him lulled and asleep, “shh, now, everything’s alright, hush now…”

As the lies drift off into nothingness, Roman along with them, Janus’s face falls.

Roman is the protector. The prince that will always put himself between them and whatever dared to try and hurt them. He’s not meant to fight a war on two fronts.

Who protects the protector?

“I will, sweetie,” Janus whispers, so, so quietly as he tidies up Roman’s room and gives the sleeping prince one last pat, “I’ll look after you.”

Roman, perhaps more than any of the others, is essential to Thomas’s mental help.

Roman is Thomas’s hopes and dreams, the things he wants above all else, the things he strives for, the things he desires. He reaches and reaches and reaches for Thomas, holds every single one of his wants close to his chest, and keeps them safe until they can bubble up into reality.

Roman is romance, the reason Patton gets all fluttery and bubbly inside. He’s the suave, fabulous, gay disaster that encourages Thomas to be happy, to reach for who he wants, for who he desires.

Roman is creativity, the livelihood that Thomas has chosen. He works nonstop, tirelessly producing idea after idea for Thomas to film, to write, to create, so Thomas can live and be proud of what he’s doing.

Roman is the Ego.

What is the Ego, you may ask? Well, although Freud is largely considered bullshit by modern psychologists—or at the very least, upsetting due to the fact that his research was largely corrupted by the rich men funding it—there are certain aspects of his work that remain in the public mind.

Simply put, the Ego is the conscious mind. It is the sum of your thoughts, beliefs, and habits as they interact with your physical body. The tether that stretches into your awareness and consciousness and into your physical form. It is a combination of body-thoughts-feelings and the consciousness taken to activate it.

The Ego gives you a sense of self-worth. It is a mask, one you put on and play as a role.

Everyone and anyone, it seems, has been warned about the dangers of an out-of-control Ego. Overconfident, hubristic, arrogant, with no regard for others. A vapid complainer, sustained by the power of approval hoarded selfishly. You are encouraged, if not instructed outright, to learn how to live without paying any attention to your Ego.

Here’s what they don’t tell you.

The Ego is what you think of yourself. It gives you self-worth because that’s its job. To make you feel secure in who you are. It is sustained by approval because it lives in fear. It itself puts on a mask of strength, of imperviousness, that it is indestructible, because it is soft, malleable, and so very afraid.

It is true that the Ego is nourished by positive comments, because it isn’t a crime to feel good, or to feel proud, or to want to be validated. It is true that the Ego sometimes reaches too high, only to fall, because that is its nature, to want, and to hope.

They don’t tell you that when you turn your hatred inwards, your Ego doesn’t just bruise, it crumbles.

So when Logan constantly tells Roman that they can’t do something, or it isn’t a worthy use of their time, despite his best intentions, he’s not doing much other than snatching Roman’s dreams away. Roman learns not to ignore Logan, yes, but at the expense of constantly being told that it is his fault when Thomas feels crushed, never mind that Roman is crushed, too.

So when Virgil insults and belittles his worth, tells him he’s stupid and unimportant, despite the fact that Roman will snipe back at him, all he does is reinforce the idea that Roman is the only one at fault, that Virgil is allowed to sit and insult him to his heart’s content while Roman has to apologize for standing up for himself. Roman learns to stand quietly while Virgil tells Thomas he’s a disappointment until the time comes where he believes it’s true.

So when Patton decides that Roman is bad, after how much Roman has sacrificed for Patton, to do what would make Patton happy, Thomas happy, when all he needs is just someone on his side, something, anything, Roman has to stand there, alone, hurt, angry, upset, and be told that he’s wrong. Roman learns that he’s only here to give, not to receive, that no one will hold him when he falls apart.

So when Remus starts to show up, more and more, less and less restrained, no one puts it together that Roman literally does not have the strength to hold him back. Roman learns that the others don’t realize how little confidence he already has, only that their approval of him is directly proportional to how much they hate his brother.

So when Janus decides that Thomas needs to take better care of himself and that the only one he needs to focus on is Patton, Roman is the perfect tool, the perfect puppet, to be used and tossed aside when he no longer needs him, because it’s so easy to twist and turn the little prince so he dances in just the right way, never mind how much it hurts. Roman learns that no one ever cared about him, not really, and perhaps they never will.

As you might be able to imagine, destroying the thing that gives one self-worth is absolutely the best way to go about things.

Can any of you guess where the blame gets pushed when Thomas’s mental health suddenly plummets?

It’s definitely where it should be.

The thing that scares Janus the most about how that meeting goes is how resigned Roman is.

His hands are folded neatly behind his back. His face is politely blank. His mind is quiet.

When there’s a break in the conversation—if you could even call it that—he opens his mouth.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Have you not been listening?” Logan adjusts his glasses. “To…anything we have said?”

“Of fucking course he hasn’t,” Virgil grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Kiddo,” Patton admonishes, crossing his arms, “Thomas hasn’t had any ideas or dreams lately and it’s stressing him out.”

“Which means you need to get out of the pity party and back to reality with the rest of us,” Virgil adds.

“Which means,” Logan sighs, crossing his arms too, “you are going to have to start talking to us again.”

Roman looks between them. “Are we not…talking now?”

“He means actually interacting with us, Princey.”

“Have I…not been doing that?”

“It means accepting that things have changed,” Logan snaps, “and working through it.”

Roman tilts his head. “How would you like me to do that?”

“Well—“ Logan adjusts his glasses— “let’s start with an apology.”

Something flickers across Roman’s face. Janus looks back and forth between Thomas and Remus. Thomas just looks a little confused as to what’s going on—which, when doesn’t he?—and Remus is staring right at Roman. There’s a strange expression on his face.

“What would you like me to apologize for?”

Janus winces when Virgil scoffs, turning away, and Logan’s mouth hardens into a thin line.

“Why don’t you try starting,” Patton says, “and we’ll see.”

“No, you know what? No.” Virgil points a finger at Roman. “I’m done holding your hand through all of this. Waiting for you to realize that you fucked up.”

“Virgil—“

“No, Pat!” Virgil gestures between the three of them. “You know how hard it’s been on us, waiting for something to change, and now he wants us to just…what, walk him through what he did wrong?”

Patton spares a glance at Roman before looking away.

Roman’s face twitches. He looks down.

“Perhaps Virgil is right,” Logan says, “when Roman can try taking the first step, then maybe this conversation will be more productive. Until then, I see no reason to waste time.”

“Great. Bye, Thomas.”

“Wait, you guys are just leaving?”

“I see no reason to simply stand here and be unproductive,” Logan shrugs, “perhaps if something changes, you can summon us back.”

“Doubt it,” Virgil mutters, grabbing Logan’s shoulder and sinking them out. Patton spares one last look at Roman before he leaves too.

Thomas shuffles a little. Remus keeps staring at Roman.

After a moment, Roman moves.

“…you want me to apologize?”

Janus definitely imagines the chill that goes through the room.

Roman raises his head. He does not look at where Patton stood, he does not look at where Virgil stood, he does not look at where Logan stood.

He looks directly at Thomas.

“I’m sorry, Thomas.”

Thomas splutters. “Roman—“

“I’m sorry that I sent you to the wedding,” Roman says softly, Thomas’s words dying in his throat, “I’m sorry that I made a decision that I thought you wanted. I’m sorry that I tried to put your friends above your own wants, because I thought that was right. I’m sorry that I thought I was doing what was right.”

Thomas’s eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry that you never had faith that you would win the callback,” Roman continues, never once looking away from Thomas, “I’m sorry that your dreams are always too far away, that you must always feel the need to crush them in favor of what is more practical. I’m sorry that you constantly feel like you’re set up to be one big disappointment.”

Janus’s arms drop in shock.

“I’m sorry that I can’t do what you want,” and by this point, Thomas looks on the verge of tears, “even though that’s supposed to be my job. I’m sorry that nothing I do is ever good enough on its own, that you feel so afraid, so scared of doing the things you want. I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel even the tiniest bit of my fear.”

Thomas stifles a noise.

“I’m sorry that I don’t know things.” Roman chuckles sadly. “I’m sorry that it takes me so much time to figure out what to do. I’m sorry that it always feels like everyone’s one step ahead of me, that you have to wait for me to catch up, even though I never, ever do. I’m sorry for not sticking to the plan.”

Something heavy presses against Janus’s throat.

“And I’m sorry that I’m hurt. I’m sorry that it’s been a little too much for me to handle. I’m sorry that my pain is an inconvenience to you.”

“R-Roman—“

Roman just smiles sadly when Thomas can’t finish the sentence. He spreads his arms, giving a little gesture to himself.

“I’m sorry that this is your Ego.”

Janus sees the moment the horrified realization dawns on Thomas’s face.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Remus snarls and it’s only years of practice that makes Janus’s reflexes fast enough to catch hold of him before he sinks out. “Let me go!”

“You can’t hurt them,” Janus grunts, “you know you can’t.”

“Fucking watch me!”

“No, no, Remus,” Thomas splutters, “don’t—don’t do that.”

“Why the fuck not?” Remus snarls, spittle flying from his lips as he struggles against Janus’s hold. “You heard what Roman just said, they—they—“

“We did it too, Remus,” Janus says softly, glancing at Roman, “we’re not blameless either.”

Remus keeps struggling. “Let—me—“

“Remus.”

Roman’s soft voice still the duke entirely, his head whipping around. Roman just stares at him, resignation and acceptance written plainly on his features.

“It’s not fair, Ro,” he mumbles.

“Life isn’t fair.”

“I—I can summon them back, we can get them back, they can listen to you—“

“But they won’t,” Roman cuts off in the same soft fury, “they won’t listen to me.”

“Roman, they love you!”

Janus winces. Roman just turns to look at him. He can’t meet his eyes.

“Maybe,” Roman says eventually, “maybe not. Either way…”

He spreads his hands.

“Here we are.”

“Let me go, Jan.”

“If I do, will you stay?”

“Fine.”

Janus lets him go, only for Remus to lunge and wrap his brother in a tight hug. Roman stands there, immobile, until Remus lets out a howl. Roman just murmurs another soft ‘I’m sorry,' and sinks out.

Remus collapses to the floor, his Morningstar cupped in his hands.

“What—what just happened?”

“The twins share things,” Janus murmurs quietly, his eyes still on Remus, “including emotions when they are particularly strong.”

“So—“ Thomas shakes his head— “so Remus is feeling what Roman’s feeling?”

“No,” Remus snarls, still gripping the weapon tightly, “I’m feeling what Roman isn’t feeling.”

He stands up, eyes blazing.

“I am what Roman isn’t. To you. What Roman isn’t, I am. Which means—“ his knuckles turn white— “the fact that I’m feeling so strongly right now means that Roman isn’t.”

Thomas goes pale. “What?”

“Roman is numb,” Janus says quietly, “he’s closed himself off from…everything. To protect himself.”

“It means my brother, the good Creativity, passion, desire, romance, hopes and dreams, whatever you want to call him,” Remus growls, “is now numb, touch-starved, and too afraid of rejection to reach out for anything.”

“What do I do,” Thomas asks frantically, “how do we fix this?”

“You can let me kill the others.”

“No, Remus.”

“Talk to them,” Janus suggests instead, “I’m not sure they realize what Roman being the Ego means.”

Thomas nods. “Okay, we can do that. Should we do that…now?”

Janus opens his mouth to respond only for something very familiar to trickle into his mind, along with an all-too-familiar tug.

Stupid, useless, worthless, toxic, dumb, unimportant, bad, can’t do anything right, selfish, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong—

“Not now,” he manages, “get some rest. You need it.”

Thomas nods tiredly. Remus just gives him a look that says ‘you’d better not fuck this up’ and leaves, probably to go work out some of his aggression on creatures in the Imagination.

Janus sinks straight into Roman’s room and his heart breaks.

Roman is on the floor, pieces of his prince costume thrown haphazardly around him, sobbing hysterically. It’s so loud that for a moment, Janus worries that someone else will come, trying to figure out what’s wrong, before he’s hit with another wave of lies.

Broken broken broken broken broken broken broken broken wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong hopeless hopeless hopeless hopeless hopeless hopeless—

He aches.

Because he knows he can’t do anything while Roman’s awake. He’d never let him close, never let him see this. A sick feeling crawls into Janus’s stomach at the thought of invading Roman’s privacy like this but it wars with the knowledge that he’d be summoned anyway, and that Roman is falling apart.

So he has to wait.

Watching as Roman falls apart, believing himself unloved, unwanted, and unseen.

Slowly, far too slowly, the harsh sobs morph into softer cries, then sniffles, then Roman stills, slumping on the carpet as his breathing evens out. Tears of his own threaten the corners of Janus’s eyes.

The poor thing cried himself to sleep.

But as he moves closer, reaching out a hand to stroke back his hair, he lets out a coo before he can stop himself when he sees more tears.

The poor thing cried himself to sleep and kept crying.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus whispers, moving to cradle him as gently as he can without waking him, “sweetie you come here, shh, shh, honey, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”

He lifts the poor prince into his arms, moving swiftly to the bed and laying him down, tucking him in protectively and running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re safe now, it’s okay, you’re safe…” He settles Roman’s head on the pillow. “Shh, shh, shh, that’s it, shh…”

Sleep-clumsy fingers curl around his arms. Oh. Oh, dear. Well…

“Oh, sweetie, are you—do you want me to stay?” Janus tries to pull away a bit only for Roman to grumble and hang on. “Oh—okay, sweetie, I’ll stay, just—just a moment.”

He snaps the fingers on a free hand and changes into something softer, something he can sleep in, something Roman can hold and cuddle. He slides into bed next to him, only to be immediately cuddled by a sleeping, still crying Roman.

“Shh, sweetie,” he whispers, nuzzling Roman’s head, “I’m right here, I’m not leaving, I won’t leave you.”

Roman mumbles something and snuggles into Janus’s chest. He makes another comforting noise at the evidence of more tears.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetie, I promise, I’ll look after you, I’ll take care of you.”

And when Roman lets out a little cry, still asleep, he breaks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Roman melts.

“Oh, sweetie…”

Janus spoils him with kisses, across his forehead, down his tear-stained cheeks, running his hands through his hair, down his arms, over his back, soothing a particularly painful hitch with a hand on his tummy, rubbing gently until he lapses back into a peaceful sleep. He buries his face in Roman’s hair and holds him tight.

He swallows heavily, guilt and concern warring in his throat.

“I don’t want you to think,” he begins carefully, “that I’m only apologizing because I feel guilty over seeing you hurt and that it’s my fault.”

He tightens his grip on the sleeping prince.

“I am sorry, Roman,” he whispers with his lips against Roman’s forehead as if to speak the truth into the prince’s dreams, “for all the hurt I have caused you. For using and manipulating you, for dismissing you and letting you think you were useless, and for letting the others make you believe you were so unlovable.”

He shudders, his breath coming out shaky.

“But mostly…” he swallows, “mostly I’m sorry that I won’t be brave enough to say that to you when you’re awake.”

+1.

Janus blinks. There’s sunlight coming in through the curtains.

His room definitely has curtains.

Oh. Right. He’s in Roman’s room.

Shit, he’s still in Roman’s room.

He’s fallen asleep, he realizes, in Roman’s bed, with Roman cuddled protectively to his chest, after the poor thing had sobbed himself to sleep in the aftermath of that awful, awful meeting.

Unconsciously, he goes to tighten his grip on the sleeping prince before realizing that he should be doing the opposite.

He should leave. Now. Before Roman wakes up and sees him.

He definitely wants to be around for that conversation.

So, despite the ache in his stomach at the thought of leaving Roman alone right now, he grits his teeth and starts trying to disentangle himself from Roman, despite Roman’s best efforts to cling onto him. If he weren’t so afraid of the consequences of getting caught, he’d find it adorable.

Okay, maybe he still finds it adorable.

But Roman’s so soft when he sleeps, so lovely, so unabashed at chasing what he wants. He clings to Janus’s shirt with clumsy fingers, burbles soft noises of protest when Janus’s warmth leaves his side.

“Come on, sweetie,” Janus coaxes, gently prying Roman’s fingers off, “let me go, you don’t want me to be here when you wake up.”

“Mmno.”

“You say that now…” He still won’t let go. “Come on, sweetie, let me go…”

He leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, hoping Roman will melt and he can escape.

“That’s it, just go back to sleep, sweetie,” he murmurs, his voice low and hypnotic, carding his fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead, “sleep, sleep, sleep…”

“Stay,” comes the sleepy little mumble, its voice still lost in the dream, “take care ‘f me.”

The earnest plea brings a sad little smile to Janus’s face.

“If you knew who I was,” he whispers, “you wouldn’t ask that.”

Roman opens his eyes and stares right at him.

Janus freezes, his hands still caught in Roman’s hair, Roman’s hands still gripping his shirt.

“Stay,” Roman repeats, his tongue thick with sleep but awake, “don’t run away this time.”

This time?

Oh.

Oh, no.

Janus swallows. “How long—“

“You said you didn’t hate me,” Roman mumbles, still tugging on Janus’s shirt to get him back, “and that it hurt more that the others didn’t realize.”

“You were supposed to be asleep.”

“You were supposed to hate me.” Roman tugs harder. “Come back.”

Janus gets slowly back into position, letting Roman cling to him like a child with a teddy bear. Without permission, his own arms wrap around the sleepy prince, and Roman all but purrs.

“We c’n talk later,” the prince mumbles, already drifting back to sleep, “but stay. Want you to stay.”

And…well, if it’s the first time Roman’s asked for something he wants in god knows how long, what else is Janus supposed to do but obey?

“Alright, sweetie, I’m right here,” he murmurs, curling his arms tightly around the poor prince, “do you want to try and go back to sleep?”

“Mm.”

But his eyes don’t drift closed. Instead, they stay glassily alert, one hand fisted loosely in the slack of Janus’s shirt.

“Sweetie,” Janus calls after a little, “do you want to change into something easier to sleep in?”

He lifts one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug.

“Can I help?”

Another shrug. Janus tucks a loose piece of hair behind Roman’s ear, snapping his fingers to put the costume on the mannequin in the closet and replace it with a soft red shirt and boxers. He presses another kiss to Roman’s forehead and ruffles his hair.

“Why don’t you hate me?”

Janus frowns, pulling Roman closer. “How could I hate you?”

He holds a finger gently up to the prince’s lips before the lies can fill Roman’s head again.

“Let me rephrase: I don’t hate you, Roman, I promise.”

Roman’s disbelief is palpable. “But why?”

...maybe he is going to have to do this.

“I can hear lies,” he murmurs, “whenever someone says them or thinks them. If they’re not true, I’ll hear it. No, no—stay here, sweetie, shh, I’m not angry, I’m not disappointed. I can hear them when you tell yourself that you’re worthless, or toxic, or that we all hate you.”

He lifts Roman’s chin gently.

“They’re lies, sweetie, that’s why I can hear them. You’re not worthless, you’re not toxic.”

Roman whimpers.

“You’re not broken,” he continues softly, holding him still, “you’re not hard to love, we don’t hate you.”

He cups Roman’s face and pulls him in to rest their foreheads together.

“And I care about you, sweetie, so, so much.”

Roman’s breath shudders warmly on his cheeks.

“Shh, shh, oh, come here, sweetie—there you go, you can cry, honey, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh...”

The weight of the prince’s tears drying on his collar makes it hard to swallow. He tugs the blankets closer around them and lets Roman cling onto him as he cries.

“I know you don’t believe me,” he whispers as familiar lies start to drift across, “but it’s true, sweetie. It’s true, it’s true, I promise. I’m here to take care of you.”

“I’m—I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor—sorry—“

“Shh-shh-shh, don’t apologize to me, sweetie, you don’t have to apologize, I’m right here, I’m not angry, nothing’s so bad.”

“I’m sorry.”

Janus hushes him gently with a kiss to his cheek. “I know you are...even though you don’t have to be, not like this.”

His chest aches when Roman won’t stop burbling apologies.

“Roman.” He takes the prince’s face firmly in his hands. “Roman, look at me.”

Roman’s glassy eyes fixate on Janus’s face.

“I forgive you, my prince,” he says, “I forgive you.”

Roman’s mouth stills.

“If that is what you need to hear,” he continues, softening his grip, “I forgive you, my prince.”

“You...you do?”

“I don’t want you to think that you need my forgiveness for me to love you,” Janus murmurs, “but yes, sweetie. I forgive you.”

Roman collapses.

Janus catches him. Of course, he catches him. He curls around his prince and murmurs sweet nothings, reassurances, anything he needs right now.

It’s messy, it’s frantic, it’s desperate, it’s human.

He can care for Roman while Roman lets himself be human. So he holds the poor thing while he cries himself out.

He doesn’t cry himself to sleep again, thankfully, just enough to slump against Janus’s chest and huff.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, that was long overdue.” He runs his knuckles up Roman’s back. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Roman stiffens. “Does that mean going downstairs?”

“No, sweetie. Come on...”

He gets Roman seated on the edge of the bed with a glass of water in his hands. Roman drinks, blinking as Janus passes him a warm cloth, then a cool cloth, to clean his face.

“What do they want me to do,” he asks after he’s finished the glass and the cloths are hanging over the laundry basket, “now?”

Janus winces. Is he surprised? No.

“Shh, sweetie, I’m not angry,” he soothes when Roman tenses, “I’m concerned. You’re still—you still need to take care of yourself first before you worry about everyone else.”

But everyone else is worthy of the worrying, not me.

Janus hisses gently. Roman just sighs.

“It’s what you’ve told me,” he mumbles, “I don’t—I can’t just stop it.”

“I’m not expecting you to be able to just stop it, sweetie, it’s going to take time, but part of it is going to be recognizing what’s not true.”

“I know.”

Janus opens his mouth to say something else when Roman gasps, his hand flying to his chest.

“Sweetie? Sweetie, what is it?”

“I’m—I’m being summoned.” Roman clutches his shirt, staring up at Janus. “Thomas—Thomas—“

“I’ll go.” Janus gives Roman’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just wait here for me, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

He can still feel the warmth of Roman’s shoulder tingling under his palm as he appears in the living room.

“I’m sure you have a wonderful reason for trying to summon Roman,” he drawls, raising an eyebrow at a Thomas.

Thomas looks up from his computer. “We were still filming.”

Janus stiffens. “You’re not thinking of trying to continue—“

“What? No, no, I’m saying that while Roman was talking the camera was still rolling.” Thomas points to the screen. “Which means we have it. All of it.”

Ah, now he sees where Thomas is going.

“You want them to watch.”

“They should, shouldn’t they?”

Yes, a bitter part of Janus growls, they should see how badly they’ve made Thomas’s Ego crumble.

“What do you think?”

Thomas rolls his shoulders back. “I think up until Roman said...all of that, I didn’t think the others were wrong either.”

He glances up at Janus.

“Did you?”

Janus huffs. “I don’t think we ever give Roman enough credit for how good of an actor he is.”

With that, the whole sorry tale spills out of him. He doesn’t reveal the exact nature of the lies, just the broad swaths of them and how many there are. To Thomas’s credit, he deals with it better than Janus expected. That is, he doesn’t burst into tears.

Thomas takes a deep breath.

“...yeah, we’re watching this now.”

“Right now?”

“Answer me this,” Thomas says, looking up at him again, “where is Roman? Right now?”

“...on his bed.” At Thomas’s pointed stare, he relents. “He’s not alright, Thomas, he hasn’t been for a very long time.”

“Then yeah. Right now.”

“Then I’m going to ask Roman if he wants to be here.”

Thomas nods. “Can you—can you tell him I’m sorry?”

“You can do that yourself when he’s ready to hear it.”

Understandably, Roman does not want to be there. Janus wraps him tightly in the softest blankets he has, tucked up with a pillow and a glass of water nearby if he wants it, along with the reassurance that if Roman wants him back here, at any point, to call. He’ll listen.

“Thank you.”

Janus leaves him with one last squeeze, appearing in the living room with the others. Thomas is back to setting up the computer so they can all see the screen.

“Thomas?” Logan adjusts his tie. “I was unaware we had something scheduled for today.”

“We didn’t. Spur of the moment.”

Remus shoots Janus a look. Janus nods. Remus shifts a little closer to him and his hand grips his Morningstar.

“Is this about the video from yesterday?” Virgil looks around warily. “Or is it something else?”

“It is about yesterday.”

“Shouldn’t we...wait for Roman?” Patton rubs the back of his neck. “He kinda—well, if we’re talking about yesterday—“

“Roman’s not coming.” Thomas keeps fiddling with the computer.

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Are we deciding how to film the video without Roman?”

“No.” Thomas glances at Janus. Janus nods. Thomas looks back at the others. “Roman’s not coming because he doesn’t want to.”

“What the fuck?”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton mumbles halfheartedly.

“Wait, so—“ Virgil doesn’t look so much as chided— “you’re just gonna let Princey throw his temper tantrum and not come work?”

“How much attention were you guys paying to what happened after you sunk out yesterday?”

“…not much, why?”

In response, Thomas just pushes ‘play.’

Their voices fill the room, telling Roman what he’s done wrong, why he’s holding all of them back, why he’s the source of all their problems. Lies, lies, and more lies. They get to the part where the other three sink out and Remus tightens his grip on the handle.

“…you want me to apologize?”

Virgil opens his mouth, presumably to make some quip, only to cut himself off with a strangled noise once Roman’s apologies begin.

Janus watches with a sick sense of satisfaction as Patton’s hands fly to his mouth, eyes wide at the hopeless tone coming out of the computer. Next to him, Virgil goes rigid, borderline catatonic. He looks as if one little push would send him toppling over.

He can’t see Logan’s face until Thomas stops the playback. It’s only when Logan takes his glasses off to clean them that he can see the tears on his cheeks.

Thomas looks up at Janus.

“Can you still hear them?”

“The lies?” Thomas nods. “Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Roman is the Ego,” Logan whispers, mostly to himself, “Roman is the Ego. Of course…of course, I understand—I understand now.”

“What does that mean?”

Logan takes a deep breath and looks up at Patton. “It means that Roman is Thomas’s sense of self-worth, more or less, and that he—he takes the brunt of Thomas’s reactions to…any sort of feedback, more than any of us. Good or bad.”

Virgil stifles a curse. “And we’ve taught him to hate himself.”

“Quite.”

“We—“ Patton takes a breath— “we need to apologize.”

“We all do.” Thomas closes the computer and sets it aside. “I don’t…I don’t know how we do that, though.”

“Breaking patterns of thinking is hard,” Logan says, “and…especially hard when you have been taught not to ask for help.”

“But there has to be something!”

“Touch-starved,” Virgil breaks in, staring at a spot on the carpet, “Roman’s touch-starved.”

Janus raises an eyebrow.

“…when I was still having trouble,” Virgil says after a moment of them all looking at him, “Roman—Roman would just come and ask me if I wanted to—to—“

He hunches his shoulders.

“Sometimes it’d be a hug. Sometimes he’d sit next to me and—and lean on me. Sometimes he’d just—you know, with the forehead thing—“

“Bonk.”

They all turn to Logan, who has…a surprising flush to his cheeks.

“Roman said that he—he wanted to be able to express affection for me and not disturb my work,” he manages, “so we…came up with a solution.”

Patton blinks. “Is that why Roman will just walk up to you and bonk his forehead against yours?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

“That’s adorable,” Thomas says quietly, “that’s—wait, hang on, that’s really adorable.”

“It was Roman’s idea.” Logan swallows. “Most of his ideas are good.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, “maybe we should try telling him that next time.”

Janus looks around. The others look to be in various states of remorse and determination. With the exception of Remus, who still looks like he wants to bash a few of their skulls in.

“…can we go hug Roman now?”

“I wanna do that.”

“If he’s—“ Logan glances between Thomas and Janus— “do you know if he would be amenable to that? If he—would like that?”

“We can ask,” Janus says quietly, “but I don’t know.”

“And if he says no,” Remus growls, “you get out.”

“We understand, Remus,” Logan promises. He looks at Thomas. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Thomas shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. Not yet. We all have stuff to fix.”

Janus adjusts his cape. “Then let’s get started, shall we?”

They don’t sink right to Roman’s room. Instead, Janus knocks quietly on the door and waits for the soft ‘yes?’ from the other side to open it.

“Roman,” he calls softly, “hey, sweetie, why’re you over there?”

Because Roman, the poor thing, is at his desk, trying to work.

“I—um—“

“I’m not angry, sweetie,” he murmurs, arms going around the prince to pull him up out of the desk chair, “just concerned.”

“I figured that if I got to work they’d be less mad that I wasn’t there,” Roman mumbles, even as he lets Janus pull him back to the bed, “so I…”

“Oh, sweetie, no one’s angry at you.”

Roman looks up at him with such a heartbreaking look of disbelief that he lets out a soft noise, cupping his face.

“Would you believe me if I said they want to apologize and make it up to you?”

“No.”

He squints. “Have you believed anything I’ve told you since you woke up?”

“No.”

The lack of hesitation makes his eyes widen. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against Roman’s as he pulls off his gloves, reaching up to cup the prince’s head.

“I meant every word,” he murmurs, doing his best to wipe away the bits of salt in the corners of his eyes, “every single word.”

He pauses, then leans closer.

“They’re sorry, Roman,” he whispers, “they’re so sorry and they want to know how to make it better.”

They don’t want you. They hate you. They’ve never cared about you. They don’t even want to touch you.

Janus hisses softly as he pulls Roman in for a hug. The poor thing still reacts like it’s the first time someone’s touched him in years.

“They want to see you, sweetie,” he whispers, “and I believe their exact words were ‘can we go hug Roman now?’”

“W-what?”

In response, Janus pulls away a little and nods to the door. Roman’s eyes widen.

“Can we let them in, sweetie?”

“They’re here?”

“Right outside.”

“They want—they want to—“

Roman’s desperate gaze flies to the door. He raises a shaking hand and lets it open.

Patton’s through the door before it’s even all the way open. Roman lets out a wounded noise as Patton barrels into them, his arms wrapped around Roman before Janus can blink.

“Pat—Patton—Pa—wha—?”

“I’m sorry, Roman, I’m so sorry, kiddo—“

Virgil follows not too long after, pulling Roman’s legs into his lap and reaching out to take Roman’s outstretched hand.

“Hey, Princey,” he says, the growl from not five minutes ago softened to a low rumble, “missed you.”

“Mis—miss—missed me?”

“Yeah, Roman, missed you. Didn’t feel the same without you there.”

Then Logan. As Patton and Virgil move to get Roman into a more comfortable position, Logan sits behind him so that when Roman leans back, his head rests against Logan’s shoulder. Logan reaches up to tangle his fingers in Roman’s hair, smiling softly at the low noise from Roman’s throat.

“Bonk?”

Roman nods, still blinking in confusion but lets Logan press his forehead gently to his.

“Thank you, little star,” he murmurs, smiling at the way Roman’s mouth falls open, “I didn’t forget, Roman, even if I haven’t been the best at showing it.”

“We don’t hate you, Princey,” Virgil says, squeezing his hand, “and we—well, we owe you one hell of an apology.”

“But we don’t have to talk about that now.” Patton adjusts his grip around Roman’s waist. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Remus picks this moment to not walk through the door and climb onto the bed but to sink down through the ceiling and land on top of them.

“Re!”

“Hey, Ro-Bro.”

“Re, get off, you—it’s too much.”

Remus rolls to the side, right into Janus’s lap, effectively making sure that none of them are leaving, not that they particularly wanted to.

Janus watches as Roman slowly asks if they can stay like this for a while, smiling when the answer is a resounding ‘yes,’ the cuddle pile closing in around their prince. Roman’s head rests against the crook of Logan’s neck, one of his hands wrapped in Janus’s, the other in Virgil’s. His legs lie in Virgil’s lap, Patton cuddling him protectively as Logan strokes his head. Remus and Janus keep watch, sentries over the resting prince.

For the first time, in a long time, as Roman drifts off to sleep, the only lie in his head is this won’t last forever.

They’ve got time to prove him wrong.

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