#so there it can rest

[somewhereinthepines]

lil thing that went nowhere lol.

a/n : this is the very first, tiny draft of my du'lie fic. basically, i was just trying to figure out how i wanted to present the story and such. it didn't fit anywhere in the fic in the end, but it's still fun to think about what might have happened, if it would have been included.

————–

No, no, no no! Please — oh God — oh fuck, please no!  

Charlie is on the verge of a full-blown panic. His mind racing, and his heart goes into overdrive as he fruitlessly darts from one end of the room to another, hands scrambling against the wall, like he can possibly find some secret exit, a handle, a passage, anything, that can be used as a way out. 

But there is nothing. Just wallpaper, just wood, just an obstacle that he cannot psychically overcome or do anything with. There is no way out this time. He cannot escape what will come next. His higher brain understands it with dreadful probability, but his animal one, retches and wrestles, and howls in pure desperation. He has to — he has to get the fuck out! 

“Pl-please…” he stutters under his breath, fingers spalling and searching, as a dying hope still curling under his chest-bone. “Not like t-this…please, not – I don’t —” 

He’s not ready. 

He’s so painfully not ready to die, that whatever else doesn't seem to matter much. He feels, that if he will survive just a bit longer, that he would be able to look past anything. His failing business, his loneliness, the growing amount of unpaid debt. He will be able to withstand anything, if he will be able to make it out alive. 

Nothing changes, though. The wall is just a wall, and he’s stuck in the end of the hallway, with the killer just a couple yards away from him. Waiting and watching him struggle, wrenching around like a cornered rat. It must be so hilariously ungraceful and dumb-looking from Du’Met’s view. 

Eventually, out of breaths and ideas, Charlie stops. Both of his palms are pressed against the wall, as he shivers, barely able to swallow a pitiful whimper of horror. He’s going to die. He’s going to be pinned to a wall, like a damn taxidermy animal, he’s — 

Behind him the wooden floorboard creak, violated by adding weight. Charlie flinches with his whole body, and goes absolutely still, any thoughts cut short. 

Du’Met. He’s here. Right behind him. Charlie can literally feel his presence now. The hair on his neck stands at its ends, and his skin feels clammy, blistering with sweat. Like he’s having an especially nasty nightmare or a high-strung fever. 

The wrongness of this whole situation nearly sways him off his unbending, shaking legs, but he forces himself to remain vertical and slowly peer over his shoulder. And yea, Du’Met is right there, at the end of the hallway, staring him down, hands seemingly empty, but it does very little to make Charlie feel better. 

He can still have a knife inside his pocket. Or he might want to finish Charlie off in some other grizzle fashion. He’s still a threat, even if unarmed. 

The older man doesn’t even dare to blink, holding that heavy, scrutinizing gaze with the best of his ability. He wasn’t sure why Du’Met wasn’t attacking him yet. Why was he just standing there without any clear intention, when he could easily murder Charlie right here. Lack of clear intentions, did nothing, but unnerved him further. 

But he has to do something. This might be his only chance to survive. 

Slowly, like he was afraid to trigger a response, Charlie turned around, giving up on an attempt to somehow pry his way through the wall. It was of no use. There wasn’t any means to escape this way. 

Du’Met wasn’t doing anything at all. He was just looking at him, eyes cold and calm behind the holes of his mask. Charlie, in comparison, was barely holding his remaining sanity together. He was completely dumbstruck with what he had to do here. Should he say something? Should he plead and hope, that it will work again? 

Somehow, he doubted that it would. It felt, like that one time was simple luck. Perhaps, Du’Met just felt like letting him go back then, but it won’t happen again. He was sure of it. 

“I’m —” his jaw locked and opened, but barely any coherence could be formed, when he was this nervous. What could he even tell him, anyway? That if he let him leave, then he’s…? He’s what? 

Either tired of waiting or Charlie’s general uncertainty, Du’Met walked closer, stance laid-back, steps well-measured and unhurried. Charlie pressed his back even further into the wall, hiking his shoulders up, as if in a defensive position. 

“D-don’t.” he grunted out, eyes wide and whole form shaking. “Please…don’t d-do this.” 

Du’Met naturally didn’t say anything back. Not that Charlie expected him to, but his eyes slightly lidded and then, he did something very bizarre. Instead of advancing forward some more, he slowly stretched his arms in front of him, before flipping them up, demonstrating empty hands.

Charlie peered at him. At his face, at his open latex palms, then back to his face. He did it at least four times, before succumbing to proper confusion. If Du’Met wanted him to get something from this, he clearly didn’t succeed. 

“Uh, I don’t…?” he made a helpless half-gesture, attempting to articulate, that the other man might need to be more direct with his intention. Charlie was completely oblivious of what this was supposed to mean. Let alone any way to read it.

What the hell was this? An indication that he came with peace? 

The thought was so absurd, that Charlie let out a hysterical snort, which made Du’Met tilt his chin a bit lower, brows most likely furrowing behind the mask. Did he — 

Oh god….

“N-no. No. I – I wasn’t laughing at you!” he quickly assured, stumbling upon his thoughts, and half-baked ideas of how to use this stalemate to his advantage. “I just don’t — I don’t understand what you are trying to say.” 

Du’Met lowered his arms, letting them rest against his sides. Charlie forgot how to breathe. Did he upset him? Was this his only leeway? Did he screw it up by speaking? 

The killer side-stepped to the left, freeing some more space in between himself and the hallway. Then, he over-politely gestured to the empty passage there, as if offering Charlie to take the opportunity and leave this way. 

He started to understand it then. His stomach sank. 

“Oh.” 

The only way to leave the deadend was to go back to where he came from, but to do so, he would need to pass past Du’Met. To walk right next to him, when there is barely an arm length, that would separate them from one another. A shiver shot up his spine just from this notion alone. Charlie shook his head, as if in denial. 

This can’t be the only way. 

He wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t stupid enough to walk right to the person, who could and would hurt him, if he sees so fit. It was crazy to even consider this, but then again, what other options did he have? He couldn’t break through the wall, and there was no window to attempt and leave this way, so…the hallway. 

It was his only way out. 

A way out, that was currently half-occupied by Du’Met. 

Out of all the horrible things, that happened to him today, this was surely the most horrifying one. Before, there always was a small passage, a chance for him to escape and outsmart the other, but now, there was no choice at hand. There was no side-path, just a dreadful way forward. 

But why? Why design it like this, when he could just mess Charlie up, where he stood? He didn’t even have to be smart or tricky about it. Deep down, Charlie knows why, though. 

He wants me to be terrified. That’s why he does this. 

It often was about control with these kinds of people. Perhaps, he wanted to control, where Charlie went and how he did it. Compared to all other times, when Charlie's ability to survive despite the odds was something, that Du’Met failed to expect. It was clear from the light surprise inside his eyes, when he stumbled upon Charlie in the garden. 

He wasn’t foreseeing this to happen. Du’Met most likely assumed, that Charlie was dead, when in fact, he was still alive and kicking. He wasn’t able to control how exactly the older man handled these situations. He thought, that he had it in his pocket, the second Charlie walked into these traps. They all were designed to kill him, after all. 

But that’s the kicker, they didn’t. After a few hours stuck in here, Charlie was still alive and in one piece. It must have been troubling for the other male to process. Being stripped of his main advantage by some commoner or whatever he depicted him as. But this instance was different. 

This, Du’Met will be able to control. Fully. Without any real unknown challenges. 

And what he's to do now...?

[isjasz]

[Ready for a new game?]

day 11 definitelynottober - heart in your fist & week 1 weeklyhermittober - beginnings

===

IM SO READY LETSGO SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW LIFE SERIES💥💥💥💥💥💥

[laughingcatwrites]

As a reminder that good exists out there, a coworker recently confessed to me that he found out his child is questioning their identity (kid's gender redacted for this post). The kid is keeping it from him, so he can't say anything to them or show that he knows, but he's doing his best to get mentally prepared and educated so that he'll be ready whenever his kid does feel comfortable enough come to him.

For context, this guy is a big, bulky middle aged dude who loves sports and typical outdoor "manly" activities. As his coworker and friend, I know he's a kind and sweet teddy bear of a person, but his kid probably views him as a stern, authoritarian figure, the way most teenagers view their parents. His family lives in a conservative area, so I'm sure between that, their dad's looks and interests, and the fact that their dad is a Figure of Authority, the kid is worried that they won't be accepted.

But you know what? When he found out about his kid, the first thing he did was reach out to his closest queer friend and ask for resources for parents of questioning children. His biggest fears are that his kid will be bullied or discriminated against and won't feel comfortable enough to be themself. His second action was to find himself a mentor in another parent who went the same situation (kid coming out in a conservative town). The other person is preparing him for some of the struggles his kid may face and the fights he may need to take on as a parent to make sure his kid is safe and treated well.

Something I want to emphasize for people focused on language as the primary method of allyship is that when we spoke, he used some outdated terms and thoughts about gender and sexuality. That does not make him bad. These were the terms and thinking used about questioning teenagers when he was growing up and he never needed to learn more current ones. But now that he does have that need, he's throwing himself in head first because that's his kid and he's darn well going to make sure that his kid feels welcomed and has a safe place to be themselves even if they never come out to him.

[hansoeii]

Ghosts! 👻

[its-your-mind]

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[ruporas]

your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Five nights at Chiitan’s is the scariest game ever..

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[galaghiel]

i just had to draw this dialogue. the voices compelled me

[pharriagehill]

walt disney who? (x)

[busymatches]

indestructible wife

[aardvaark]

everyones fave thieves

[lucabyte]

monologue

[hinamie]

yuuji smiling and sukuna making a face like That did u really think i wouldn't do a panel redraw

[marisatomay]

there should be an oscar category called “movie my dad completed without falling asleep on the couch” and it’s more prestigious and contentious than best picture