#i missed doing the mindscape effects!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alovelyburn · 2 years

Text

Rambles about The Golden Age Arc - Part 2

As a sidenote, I don’t much care for the 1997 anime. I actually like the OVAs better because to my mind neither is great as an adaptation, but at least the OVAs are fanservicey eyecandy.

The big issue I have with the 97 anime is that it adds some stuff and it takes some stuff out, which is normal for an adaptation, but it does kind of change the tone and flow of the story and the relationships... which again is normal for an adaptation BUT...

Because so many people consider it to be an extremely accurate adaptation sometimes I wonder if the interpretations devised through watching the 97 anime get stuck in people’s brains when reading the manga or at least color their interpretations.

Just my pre “read more” thought of the day. Now, on to...

Rambles about The Golden Age Arc - Part 2

1. The nightmares are another thing I rather miss - I think the big difference between early Berserk and later Berserk for ME isn’t so much the quality as the emphasis. Early berserk spent a lot more time on characters’ inner worlds and struggles whereas later Berserk has a lot more i guess camaraderie and adventure. One of the things that really breaks my heart about Miura’s passing - one of many things - is that I did feel like they were starting to trend back a bit toward dealing with these things (e.g. Casca’s mindscape and then her flashbacks), not to mention that the last chapter he wrote was the one that brought the primary relationship back into focus after what, 15 years? He had given an interview where he stated this as well - that it was time to start bringing the focus back to Guts and Griffith. Well I can’t think about this too much since it’ll just depress me, but anyway I...

Appreciate the dream logic he uses in these sequences - the way Guts’ self image is revealed through the imagery, e.g. here we see that he still sees himself as something of a vulnerable child seeking help and approval -- all of which is pretty important for the things to come.

2. The thing with Casca lying in bed with him is also VERY ODD if you consider that Miura didn’t intend to get them together at this point?? He did mention that a lot of times things just come together as though he meant to do them even though he didn’t. In any case I do think it’s noteworthy that the reason she can touch him is because she’s a woman - obviously this comes up later during their sex scene.

Also Griffith is weird, he could have just piled blankets on Guts, you know? What the hell, Griffith.

3. Anyway, straight up, day one, Griffith is already being weird about Guts. Apparently even just asking to talk to him alone is strange considering everyone seems surprised by it.

4. And this is something that comes up when Guts leaves in a few volumes, but I do think it’s very much worth noting: The Band of the Hawk was an undefeated monster of a merc group before Guts even got there. Obviously Guts is by far the strongest individual asset in the group, but I don’t really think they accomplished anything with him that they absolutely couldn’t have done without him... well maybe Boscogn but I do wonder if he couldn’t have been taken down by say an alliance of Griffith and Casca, for example. In any case, sure it would have taken longer and resulted in more casualties probably, but in the end... what really ended the war was Doldrey, and Doldrey was won by Griffith’s manipulation of Gennon’s obsession with him more than anything else.

This is important to remember because so many people seem to think that Griffith only saw Guts as a tool and was angry because he lost his best soldier, but that’s kind of ridiculous on multiple levels, not all of which I’m going into here, but for now I will say: the Hawks were already the scourge of the battlefield before he arrived, and by the time Guts left most of the fighting was over anyway so why would Griffith need a soldier that badly?

What actually makes the Hawks undefeated is, obviously, Griffith. It’s pointed out that his strategies are absurdly effective, but also here you can discern that from the fact that they have become so successful at, by the Guts’ estimation as a veteran of multiple merc bands, an extremely young age.

5. There aren’t really any characters like Griffith that I can think of - kind of like there aren’t any characters like Guts that I can think of, unless you abstract them to “broody badass with big sword” and “charismatic bishie villain with big plans.” What I mean is they both have a lot more depth and nuance than most characters of their “type.” That said they do have a type, and I notice that a lot of the characters in the Griffith... sphere, I guess, are characterized as people who are made lonely by their own superiority - they stand on the top of a hill no one else can climb and so they are always alone. In some cases this leads to their downfall, e.g. that’s what took down Aizen, when for an instant he wished to be a normal Shinigami so that he wouldn’t be apart any longer.

I’m going on about this because I was thinking about what it is that Griffith likes so much about Guts this early on, and it brings me back to that issue he has of isolation. His attraction to Guts comes from Guts’ competence, sure, but it also comes from his fiery determination, his willingness to face poor odds, and his ability to emerge from those odds intact. For Griffith, a person fighting impossible odds to achieve his goals, who gambles his own life and the lives of everyone under his command on the regular, there is a commonality there. Sure they don’t have the same goals, but they have the same grit, the same tendency to play the odds, and turn them in their own favor regardless of how long they may seem.

Also Griffith’s entire life is gambling his life and fighting to survive, and I don’t just mean in the literal battles - he has that same storm inside himself, as well. And this is something that obviously doesn’t become clear until much later... but I do think the recognition of a peer but also a kindred spirit who is struggling externally and internally was appealing to him.... even though we won’t find out that he IS struggling internally until the cave flashback.

As is pointed out by Casca (not to mention by... the plot?) in the end Guts and Griffith are... I guess I’d put it, they’re on the same wavelength even though they occupy different spaces on the wavelength. And there’s a lot of commonality there, if you look beneath their disparate presentations... staring with their mutual fear and dislike of being truly “seen,” which is the basis of Guts’ hostile reaction to Griffith’s spot on analysis of him.

As I recall, the actual line is “make me your soldier or fuck me in the ass.”

I mean hey, he said it not me.

Anyway going back to Griffith liking Guts because he sort of understands and sees their kindred spirits so to speak, here’s another one:

The extent to which Griffith is willing to do in order to win makes this pretty notable.

Also this is the most homoerotic sword fight in the history of anything.

And putting aside the obvious innuendo coming off of Griffith in this whole scene, this moment is kind of... look, Guts can’t touch men, you know? And it’s not like Miura forgot about that - the advancement of his ability to have physical contact with men is a highlighted in the near future. So this always struck me as quite interesting - he doesn’t have any negative reaction at all, no panic, no rage. Obviously one can say it’s because he’s shocked that he lost or generally dazed by events, but Guts really never has a negative reaction to Griffith’s touch.

That makes their reactions to one another... mutually unusual, which s evident from the beginning of their acquaintance all the way to the present.

6. Corkus is a big issue. I wrote a whole meta about him at one point, but the general point of it was that he resents Guts for being so... well, Griffith-caliber, because (as we find out later) Griffith just ran like a hot knife through Corkus’s own band of thieves years ago and ate his dream whole. As a result, Corkus’s ego is dependent on believing that Griffith is uniquely special, because if he isnt then what is Corkus?

7. What’s really interesting to me, though, is that... despite being drafted by force, Guts does stay. Even when he overheards Corkus’ crew plotting to murder him and Casca tells him to go die in battle, he stays. And it’s not like he feels safe there - he definitely doesn’t, as evidenced by his choice to sleep sitting up with his sword. So why?

I’m going to say it’s uh, Griffith obviously - he’s interested in Griffith as a person but I think most importantly he’s held in place by his desire to be desired... such that even when it isn’t by choice, he can’t help but linger around when he feels wanted.

Also he’s injured.

But I think the thing that really nails it down is his first mission with the Hawks.

It would be remiss not to mention that he’s already taking in how impressive Griffith is - the faith the Hawks have in him, the way his plans take into account every possible thing, etc.

But I think more than that, he’s held in place by the fact that, Griffith gives him a pivotal role right out of the gate - one that shows respect for his capabilities, and trust that he will keep to his word. And that’s what Guts really needs, isn’t it? To feel wanted, respected, valued and trusted. There’s no way he can let that go, even if he doesnt fully understand that’s what he needs. It’s still everything he’s ever looked for. And then Griffith goes and does a crazy thing like come back and save his life and... what’s he supposed to do at that point?

And Guts knows It’s weird behavior for a commander. Look at that giant “........” not to mention he does it again at the fountain but anyway.

8. Anyway next up: some interesting forshadowing on Griffith’s relationship with the aristocracy, which is willing to use him and yet finds his extreme competence dreadful and threatening in a commoner. This obviously comes up a lot. But I think it’s worth remembering that we’re establishing here that just his abilities alone, his brilliance and the devotion he inspires in his people, is already considered terrible and disturbing.

In fact, this whole page is really setting the stage as far as Griffith’s effect on people, their perception of him, etc. To the aristocracy he is a threat, and to his men he is an almost godlike figure - the way they talk about him sometimes... it’s worth remembering because these are things Griffith is sitting there hearing, you know? Understanding the weight of their vision of him, the pressure it creates and his need to live up to that is absolutely essential to understanding Griffith as a person and I do think... their love can be a burden at times. Because it isn’t a love for Griffith the man, it’s a love for Griffith the invulnerable hero, the inviolable symbol - undefeated and undefeatable. And that’s what he needs to be, to them. And it’s a lot.

9. I love the little detail of Guts’ reaction to all that closeness. And its again worth noting that until this point he’s still struggling with touch - in the previous pages he elbowed Pippin in the face for touching him. But...

As the celebration progresses and the Hawks share their trust with him, he visibly relaxes - another signifier that this is what he really needs and wants in his life - trust, belonging, and comrades. Even if he hasn’t admitted that to himself.

Even so, he’s obviously afraid to let it in.

10. I reblogged (retumbled? lolz) a comment yesterday about how you have to let go of your good/evil indoctrination to have a chance of understanding Griffith and I really do believe that. Because he’s a complicated person and boiling him down to a monstrous sociopath is honestly insulting to Miura’s work, but it’s not like he’s a nice person either. At least not wholly. And by saying “I legit have no idea what hes actually like, he is impossible to understand” Judeau comes about as close as anyone inworld does to summing up his character accurately.

It’s just interesting to me that the story really lays out in words that he’s not easily pigeonholed into any specific category and yet people just love shoving him in a box, it’s like a compulsion or something, I don’t know.

11. Judeau says later that he was wrong, but he really wasn’t, was he? It’s more that Guts got his head screwed on backwards after Promrose.

12. So the naked waterfight.

First of all, he really just said “wanna get naked and wet with me?”

Anyway narratively the fight I think serves a few purposes - Griffith’s nudity foreshadows his vulnerability and lack of defenses with Guts.

But it also shows us why Griffith ends up defenseless to him. Guts is exactly what he thought Guts would be - a peer. Someone who treats him like a person instead of a god. Someone who is willing to throw things at him and get cheeky with him and generally just... see him as he is. We even get equivalent splash sequences - in short they are peers in age, similar in ability, and made of similar stuff.

And when faced with Griffith’s sometimes inscrutable personality, Guts is just like, "Yeah hes definitely weird, but tbh probably just a kid.”

Obviously, it also serves as a reminder of who this is and where it’s going with the first appearance of Griffith’s Crimson Behelit.

The doomsday clock hanging over them.

And then the groundwork for Griffith’s irrationality where Guts is concerned.

You know... I personally think Guts was as much into Griffith as Griffith was into Guts (well I have a bunch of thoughts on the specifics of Guts’ feelings about Griffith but that’s another story for another day). And I have always argued that, and always stood by it. The first time I read this series, when I knew nothing at all about the fandom or the popular perspectives on the characters, I was honestly just like... these two are absolutely in love, and this is the saddest freaking near miss in the history of the world. I was kind of shocked when I looked up fan discussions and found that the most popular views were things like “Griffith is a psychopath” and “Guts hates him so much omg.” Checking out Japanese fandom was like a sanity saver for me because they do have a different perspective and I suspect that the chasm in the reactions have to do with cultural tics and dealbreakers, e.g. Japan isn’t as touchy about some subjects in fiction as say America is, and of course we’re talking individualist vs a collectivist cultures as well which .means there’s a whole different set of... expectations and understandings about what kind of behavior is acceptable or not, and what kind of behavior is sympathetic or not.

But anyway, that’s a bit of a ramble getting to this: Although I’ve personally always argued that Guts was as attracted to Griffith as the other way around, I do understand the disagreement on that. Like I can completely see how people see his feelings differently than I do.

But I will never in my whole entire life ever understand how anyone on this planet can read this series and not think Griffith is in love with Guts. I literally can’t think of any other explanation for his behavior, dialogue, thought narration, etc. where Guts is concerned (not to mention CASCA’S actions and comments about/to Guts) and every other potential explanation, including the ones people love to push (eg. guts was his best weapon!!!) is explicitly ruled out by the text in black and white. Even here, where Griffith gives that explanation himself, Guts clearly thinks he’s bullshitting - and he calls him on it later, too.

It is beyond me.

Anyway,

13. Then comes Griffith’s big “Ima be a King my guy” line, and Guts looks like he’s seen the Messiah or something (which, I mean, technically...) but what I really want to note is...

Just like that, Griffith has thrown Guts’ world into a tailspin. It’s not the last time that happens, really - it happens again after Zodd and again when he overhears the stupid Promrose speech. Griffith’s words hit Guts like a hammer to the head over and over again, and in this he gets swept up in what Judeau talked about earlier:

Griffith’s charisma, his conviction, his drive. The thing that pulls the Hawks together from all their different backgrounds and gives them something to believe in and aim for.

But of course, with Guts, it is a little different, too.

But for now I’m going to shut up because the three year timeskip is the perfect time to go do something else.

#berserk meta #not the berserk tag #rambles about berserk

18 notes · View notes

waywardstation · 2 years

Note

My brain can't stop imagining how the Rift Residue is effecting Emmet's Mind Station in the ToT 2/State of Mind AU and I guess that I should share what my brain keeps conjuring up. >.<

So to contrast the dripping, inky black gunk that the Remnant leaves on everything in Ingo's Mind Station, I just imagine that instead, the Rift has formed all of these sharp, jagged outcroppings of blinding white that small flakes of iridescent light float off of in Emmet's mind. They resemble the cracks in the sky that the space-time rift was creating throughout Hisui. That's what makes Emmet's mindscape so treacherous to travel and provides a lot of difficulty with trying to clean and dispose of it all. They're basically having to navigate around and clean up large shards of broken glass strewn all over the place, and the deeper into the Mind Station they go, the larger and more frequent these shards become. I don't know what happens if you get cut by these shards other than it is unpleasant and makes whomever is cut by them 'bleed' some sort of white substance. Regardless, while it is very easy to get cut by these shards if you touch them, everyone in Emmet's Mind Station knows to avoid touching them as much as possible. Most of the Mind Station is still perfectly operable like this, though it doesn't come without a certain level of inconvenience and danger. The heart of the Mind Station (the where the origin of these problems are truly coming from) is abandoned and practically innavigable at this point, the only person who ever goes into that part of the Mind Station anymore being MS Emmet himself. One of the first indications that the party gets that something is REALLY wrong with MS Emmet is when he just walks through a TON of these jagged outcroppings without really paying attention nor caring if he gets cut. MG Ingo admits that MS Emmet has been acting like this for a while now and is just relieved that he hasn't seen MS Emmet too badly injured from this kind of errant and reckless behavior yet.

HUGE Trigger Warning for self-harm after this so please do proceed with caution!

When they eventually make their way into the heart of Emmet's Mind Station, they find MS Emmet there, running the same cars, the memories of Ingo vanishing and all the speculative 'what-ifs' over and over and over again. And then they realize that MS Emmet has been deliberately hurting himself using these rift shards, and that's a big part of why he's let the Mind Station get this bad and how.

I tend to think that Emmet would be the kind of person who would have a lot of difficulty dealing with his own negative emotions. He's not good at expressing himself through words like Ingo is. He needs to express himself through physical actions. But how do you express anger, sorrow, grief, and pain through your actions without scaring, hurting, or making others worry? He doesn't know how and doesn't have the words to express how he feels. He's so afraid of hurting someone with his anger, sorrow, and grief that he's decided that it's better for him to bottle it all up and keep it inside, manifesting into pain, rather than to risk hurting someone else with an outburst. But because of this, Emmet's created a maladaptive relationship with his own sense of pain. There can be comfort and solace in pain. He's found reassurance in how much Ingo being missing hurts him. And he hasn't let himself feel, much less accept his own feelings of anger and grief. Accepting his anger and grief would mean moving on. And he doesn't want to move on. He doesn't want to get better. He just wants to hurt because he feels like this is the only way he can hold onto Ingo and his memory and not let him go. He's just been running these thoughts and memories over and over in his head as a form of self-harm so that he doesn't have to move on and so that he can just keep hurting. And that's why his mind has so thoroughly rejected the idea that Ingo is home. Ingo being home means that he has no reason to hurt anymore. Ingo being home means that he has to finally confront these emotions that he's been bottling up and avoiding. It would mean finally letting himself heal and move on. And that's not what he wants. He doesn't want to get better. He just wants to keep hurting. So to help Emmet and get rid of all of this Rift junk, the party needs to get through to Emmet and to get him to stop being so emotionally constipated and to finally acknowledge his own emotions and feel grief.

Basically, the way to fix all of these problems with Emmet is to get the bitch to cry. u.u

Response below cut because this ask deals with the topic of self-harm (in a mental sense, purposely replaying memories of painful events in one’s head, but does imply physical)

What an interesting concept OP, but man that’s a dark one!

I understand the concept of it, with Emmet wanting to feel the hurt of the memories because to him, it’s a sign that he still cares, and it is a response that some people might have in events similar to this. But I am hesitant to want to go down this road with Emmet because it is dark. And while it is a mental representation of him just replaying harmful memories, the implications of it through MS Emmet is still physical in a sense, as he is engaging in self-harmful behavior, and showing he doesn’t really care what happens to him. And as Emmet’s mental self, that is a projection of what he is feeling.

I do think Emmet would struggle to explain to others what he’s going through, but mostly because this is a unique situation. The status of his brother is in limbo, and he is impossible to find because Ingo could be in a different time period, or plane of existence altogether. He doesn’t know what took Ingo, exactly. There is so much he just doesn’t know, but all he does know is that Ingo is no longer where he should be, and it’s because he pulled Emmet out of the way.

I do very much like the interpretation of how Emmet deals with things in this comic by @/nartothelar. Things are hard for him to deal with, and he is struggling with the weight of it all, but deep down, even if he doesn’t say it, even if it’s more hope than anything, Emmet does feel like Ingo will return and wants to be ready for when he does come back. He could take much better care of himself than he is, but he does the best he can with what he’s got and is trying. I know the mind is a complex thing and as AUs that deal entirely with mentalities, it has the potential to get very dark. But I like to try and keep the AUs we discuss on here from getting too a bit too dark ^^;

Perhaps instead of MS Emmet allowing himself to be hurt by the sharp rift residue, parts of it can be seen latched on him. Mostly on his uniform, more dirty than clean at this point, but it would be a stark contrast of sharp black jutting out of soft white fabric. It has not made skin contact with MS Emmet yet, which is the real danger, but he has made no efforts to get it off of his clothing, and it’s worrying. He’s just letting it grow as he shirks his other duties at the station, rewatching the memories of the rift event over and over and over.

MG Ingo is left to try and manage the station in the meantime, but without MS Emmet helping, he doesn’t know what to do (and this is representative of Emmet doing his best to try and maintain himself for Ingo, even though he could be doing better, despite constantly replaying the event in his head and stressing over it).

And then the party can come along and help clean up the station, and free MS Emmet of such an emotionally-constipated state, and het him properly deal with and process his emotions instead of replaying the event and all of these fake scenarios and what-ifs on repeat.

Great concept though OP!! I love your thoughts regarding the rift residue and how in-depth you got with it!

#train of thought au #tot au 2 #state of mind au #tw self harm #in a way??#it’s not physical it’s about purposely replaying memories of painful events in Emmet’s head #tw self destructive behavior #<- maybe this one’s better #i would like to keep the AU from generally getting too dark so if it helps I indulge in alternatives instead

9 notes · View notes

ask-kimerako-therapycarpool · 1 year

Note

Turbo, I hope you're excited cause now you get to see the violence we Anons are capable of. Also I missed out on doing this earlier. Glad to get a second chance. *summons all the needles and drills and sharp bits right into Mind Shadowys skin, though none to the point of piercing Turbo*

[He's struggling in the OVK Shadowy Venomous clone's grasp, trying to kick him away.]

You better put up a hell of a good fight...!

[He grunts in effort. Since the kicking has no effect, he allows the anon to make their first move of this half of OVK. The clone knows something went into him, but he doesn't feel it. He frowns, and and continues to make an effort to squeeze TKO's head off.]

[The clone's head is forced to face Anon!TKO. He blows him a raspberry before it's snapped back in place.] T̶h̸o̵u̵g̴h̶t̷ ̴I̶'̶d̵ ̶e̵v̵e̴n̵ ̶t̷h̶i̵n̷g̶s̴ ̶o̸u̷t̶,̵ ̴d̸u̴e̴ ̷t̴o̵ ̸t̵h̸e̷ ̵f̸a̷c̴t̵ ̴o̷f̶ ̴t̸w̶o̷ ̶k̷i̵d̴s̷ ̵i̷n̷ ̸m̶y̵ ̵v̸i̴c̷i̷n̵i̸t̶y̷.̵ ̵

[This has zero effect. OVK Shadowy clone sneers,]

A̶n̵d̵ ̶y̶o̴u̸'̷r̴e̸ ̵g̵o̵i̷n̶g̶ ̵b̸a̴c̸k̷ ̵t̶o̸ ̴n̵o̵t̷ ̵i̷n̶t̴e̷r̴f̴e̴r̷i̶n̷g̵.̵

[Before another snarky reply could be made, his legs are chopped off, the parts from it dissipating. He growls with much annoyance, and lifts up the clone about three feet in the air, eyes closed with concentration. Pathetic, he thought to himself.]

–

[KO shouts moments after being batted upwards, and then utters a falling yell as he quickly descends back to the ground. He quiets almost immediately reminding himself that he could stop the hard landing, so he catches himself via levitation, just barely inches from hitting the mindscape grounds.]

Phew...!

I dunno how good that'll work out... Maybe you guys can give it a try...!

–

[Back at the other side of the battle, still fights to free himself, when he spots the anons preparing for their full-on assault against the OVK made SV clone. He smirks and elbows him hard in the gut, then being released as the clone hisses at him. TKO floats himself several feet apart from him, not wanting to get caught.]

Do your worst, scrubs.

[Both versions of OVK growl as they both receive the hits. But they don't even seem to react to the hits.]

[They both let this happen, tanking heavy hit after heavy hit.]

[A barrage of violent attacks after, the two OVKs are surrounded in pinkish smoke. KO and TKO stand there and watch, waiting with silent anticipation. The smoke then clears out, revealing the results. Mind Shadowy's left half of his torso is taken out, the left leg is nothing but a stub, three holes or varying sizes are left on his chest. As for the actual OVK, he physically appears to be in worse condition than his creation: the bottom portion of his body is absent, the abdomen mouth is all cracked and crumbled, pterodactyl wings are severely tattered, five out of six arms are blown away, and his right eye, including the remaining side of that face, is steaming. All damaged parts of him are steamy, so it's safe to say that he looks nearly decimated. He's visibly shuddering in shock and anger, looking around himself and the clone. KO gasps in surprise of his own and covers his mouth while TKO chuckles at the misery on both their faces.]

Y̴-̴y̶-̶y̷-̸y̷o̴u̵.̶ ̵Y̵o̴o̴u̵u̵.̴.̵.̶.̷

[His amused giggles then grow, continuing to laugh.]

I̵t̷'̶s̶.̷.̶.̴ ̷n̷o̸t̶ ��f̸u̶n̴n̷y̶.̵.̶.̶.̵.̸

[But it doesn't stop. His head throws back, laughter quickly escalating into full on cackling, increasing in volume. Why is TKO enjoying this so much?]

D̴o̵ ̷y̸o̸u̷ ̶T̴H̶I̶N̸K̴ ̶t̶h̷i̵s̷ ̷i̴s̴ ̷F̸U̶N̷N̶Y̴?̵!̷?̴!̴

[He genuinely does believe so, as he continues guffawing uproariously. It was so hard to stop.]

T̵h̷a̴t̴'̷s̵.̵.̶.̸ ̸t̸h̶a̶t̸'̷s̷ ̴n̴o̴t̷ ̴f̴u̴n̴n̵y̴.��.̶.̵ ̵a̵t̷ ̴a̷l̷l̶.̷.̴.̶!̴

[His working eye shuts, wincing. Once he lets TKO laugh a minute longer, he slowly blinks it back open, and gives him a look.]

I̵t̷'̶s̵.̵.̶.̴ ̴i̸t̷'̴s̷ ̵r̶e̵a̷l̸l̶y̴.̷.̵.̴ ̸n̵o̷t̷ ̸t̵h̸a̴t̶ ̸f̶u̸n̷n̸y̶.̷.̴.̴ [He smiles, and drops the act, grinning at the two Kincaids.]

Â̵̰ş̴͌ ̵͈̇y̷̛͓o̶͇͊u̶̱̍r̶̯̾ ̶͔̒f̶̺̈ả̶̤c̴̨̓e̶͕͝s̴̙͆.̵̦̕

Huh...?

[TKO's laughing attack starts to ooze with confusion, staring at OVK that should meet the emotion.]

[OVK lets out a single "hah", and follows his retort with every little bit of his virtually destroyed form harshly jutting out back into place, regenerating everything back. And the clone follows suit, also flashing the same look. They flex their formerly eradicated parts, like as if nothing ever happened. TKO's laughing dies completely, and the boys stare in horror.]

0 notes

dragonleesupporter · 3 years

Text

Not So Different Part I

A/N HEYYYY! Did you miss me? Probably not, but here I am with another t-fic.

Warning: This is a tickle fic!

It was no secret that tickling was a common pastime in the mindscape. Each side had their own soft spot for the activity in different scenarios. Logan loved tickling for the inexplicable properties it possessed. Roman loved being held and teased, Virgil loved soft cuddle tickles and Janus was a fan of others exploring the ticklishness of the skin just in between his scales.

However, there were two sides that NEVER got tickled. These two the others would call the tickle monsters of the house. Any attempt to tickle them would backfire and the daring ler would soon become the lee. If one side wanted to be absolutely wrecked, or just want a special type of tickling, the two tickle monsters were the ones to do it.

Logan, and Roman always went to Patton when overcome by monstrous lee moods, while Janus and Virgil would go to Remus.

Despite holding the same title and power over the others in their little games, Remus and Patton couldn’t be more different. If the two were in the same room with each other for a single minute, an argument was bound to happen. Sometimes it was cute with both tickle monsters teasing some of their favorite lees to try bribe the other to prove their dominance. But other times… their arguments got really serious… This constant friction between them caused Remus to stop coming to dinner with the others, as Patton would always find a way to ruin his fun. Patton stopped going to Roman’s room entirely because of the fact that him and Remus shared it together, and Remus always got to Patton with absurd and disturbing ideas. Patton would only enter the Imagination if Roman went with him.

Virgil, while loving the way Remus could make him scream and nearly pass out from the all the wonderful sensations of his tickling, or how surprisingly gentle he could be if Virgil used his safe word… he was starting to get curious what it would be like to ask Patton for tickles… After all, out of all the sides, Virgil was the most neutral when it came to the divide in them- down to even being indifferent whenever Patton and Remus fought, refusing to take a side.

One morning, the emo awoke with what he liked to call an “Oh damn, I’m royally fucked” lee mood, that consisted of him giggling and snorting to himself at the mere thought of being touched in any of his tickle spots. Usually, he’d go to Remus for a lee mood so big, but, reluctantly, it was Patton’s door he decided to knock on.

“Hey there, kiddo! Why you shaking so much? Is something wrong?” The fatherly trait’s normally happy appearance quickly changed to one of concern at the sight before him. Virgil had hidden his face in his hoodie, hugging himself tightly and shivering with the tingles his mind was making up to get him even more riled up.

“L-lee mood…” He barely managed under his breath. He dared a peak at Patton’s face and was surprised to see an uncharacteristically smug expression behind Patton’s glasses. He suddenly grabbed Virgil’s arms and yanked him into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner, Virge?” His honey-sweet voice carried an eerie and almost predatorial undertone as he approached Virgil, grinning madly. Virgil took a few steps back, surprised.

“Oh, don’t look so scared, you asked for this after all…” Patton practically growled as he pounced on him, holding him in his arms.

Virgil couldn’t help but squeak, Patton’s hands were touching his sides already, making the tingles SO much worse. Virgil suddenly felt the urge to hold his breath as Patton started poking along his sides, feeling out all of his possible tickle spots.

“Y’know, this is the first time I get to wreck you Virge… would you want to tell me what your favorite spot is? ~” His sweet voice echoed as he leaned up to whisper in Virgil’s ear.

The emo flinched and leaned his head away, but Patton’s tickly whispers followed him.

“Cmoooon, son… just tell me where…”

Oh. He was serious… Remus always knew where to get him. He never had to tell him where he wanted it! Oh no, this is going to be hard!

“U-Um…” Virgil avoided eye contact. “S-s-s…”

“Sides?” Patton guessed and immediately shoved his hands under Virgil’s shirt.

“I- NO! NO! NOHOHOHOHOHO! PAHAHAHAHAT!” Virgil shook like he was being electrocuted. Patton’s fingers were so soft and stubby, skittering up and down his sides like spiders on the prowl. Virgil’s body kept trying to worm away from the unbearable sensations, but there was a floor to his back, Patton in front of him, and tickly fingers on both his left and his right! His legs started kicking as his laughter got higher in pitch. Patton was inching ever so close to his hips and tummy.

The fatherly figure saw the reaction right away.

“Aw! Is this a tickle-tickle-tickle spot right here?? This squishy thing right here? This adorable little tummy?” Patton’s voice grew louder and squeakier with excitement as he started prodding at the edges of Virgil’s belly, making him squeal with each poke.

“C-cut it out!” Virgil managed between each squeal.

“Cut out what Virge? Tickling you?” Patton’s sugar-dipped tone teased, lightly circling the sides of his tummy with his fingertips.

The emo tried desperately not to laugh.

“Quit t-t-teasing!” He shook madly, struggling to keep his giggles in.

“Aww, is a little Virgie embawassed? Embawassed little kiddo of mine??” Patton’s ever changing tone only got more flustering, the pitch going even higher than the emo’s heartrate. “Maybe my little kiddo needs a boost! A snack perhaps? Why, I’m so hungry, I can eat this adorable tummy right up!” The fatherly figure eyed Virgil’s belly button with overwhelming excitement.

“Wait-!” The purple side cried in a panic, but it was too late. Patton’s head charged toward Virgil’s tummy like a bull and upon contact, Patton blew the biggest raspberry his lungs would allow.

“NOHOHOHOHO! STOHOHOHOP IHIHIHIT!” Virgil thrashed and spun wildly, bucking and kicking like mad, but Patton stayed on his tummy button, forcing more vibrations to echo and bounce off each other.

“NOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHAT! NOHOHOHOHOHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Virgil started crying tears of laughter, as he threw his head back, a huge wave of relief and happiness came over him.

When Virgil’s eyes started to roll up and his laughter became silent, Patton finally stopped.

“How do you feel, kiddo?” He murmured lovingly, rubbing the emo’s belly in slow steady circles.

“Ahhhffffeb… gah…” Virgil’s attempt at English was pathetic, yet adorable.

“How about cuddles… hm?” Patton’s arms wrapped around the hooded emo, purring softly.

“Otay…” Virgil fell asleep in Patton’s arms as he kissed at his son’s face and neck and woke up with Patton still there, spooning him.

It was odd, how different Patton and Remus were, yet they still had that loving look in their eyes as they wrecked their lees… However, while Remus is one for suspense and buildup, Patton’s teases have the same effect before he goes right for the kill… Usually, Virgil would wake up tucked in his bed, warm and safe… but all alone… waking up with Patton protecting him with a big sleepy bear hug… this was beautiful… this was… really embarrassing… but this… also didn’t help his decision of who to stick to… or who was the more dominant ler… he was gonna need more help…

…

“Virgil, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Yeah, uh… Logan… how would you like to partake in an experiment with me?”

To Be Continued…

@poptartsaysurloved @thetickleeraven @fluffymary

@cefsticklestoo @leedrop-angel

#sandersides lee!Virgil Ler!Patton ticklefic

20 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

Text

Snap Part 1

Read on Ao3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Inspired in part by the lovely @random-snippets‘s post here

Warnings: roman angst and everything that goes with it. self-esteem issues, self-hatred, insecurity. sympathetic everyone

Pairings: roceit, platonic DLAMPR

Word Count: 5540

Most things in life are flexible to some degree. You can push and pull and bend them in certain ways and, to some extent, they will comply with you. There are some things that you can bend and bend and bend. Creativity is one of these things. Creativity, imagination, dreams...they can be shaped and changed into whatever you want.

Bend...and bend...and bend...until they snap.

Janus enjoys teasing.

He finds that it often reveals true intentions much better than simply taking someone at their word. Plus, the range of reactions he gets is endlessly amusing.

Patton will stutter and stammer adorably, or he’ll put on his Dad Voice™ and attempt to scold. Logan, depending on what sort of mood he’s in, will sass him back or give him a death glare. Virgil definitely isn’t the type to snipe back, keeping up with Janus blow for blow. Remus is…Remus.

But Roman…Roman is different.

Roman used to be the most fun to tease, puffing himself up in a fit of righteous princely indignation to defend himself, going red in the face only to be set off again moments later. Janus could spend hours just tilting his head this way and that as Roman muttered himself in and out of circles and paradoxes and contradictions. It used to be quite an effective way to shut the prince up, letting him stew in his own thoughts.

It’s still an effective way to silence Roman, but it’s changed.

It started after the wedding.

Roman had shut himself away in his room, much to the chagrin of the others. They expected a temper tantrum, they expected sulking. Logan and Patton were constantly on standby for the minute Thomas would start being affected by it.

They didn’t expect Roman to emerge a few days later and quietly ask to talk to each of them.

He apologized.

A proper apology; for mocking his name, for calling him evil, for dismissing him out of hand. Janus can only guess by the looks of pleasant confusion mirrored on the other Sides’s faces that they received similar apologies.

Janus hadn’t been surprised when Roman extended a nervous offer of having him and Remus come around to their side of the Mindscape more often, saying that they had…valuable insights to offer. He hadn’t been surprised to see Roman extend the olive branch to Remus, only for Remus to promptly snatch it up and hug his brother so tightly Janus winced in sympathy for Roman’s ribs.

Patton, as was to be expected, was overjoyed, throwing his arms around the princely side in what could only be described as euphoria. Logan had been surprised, saying he hadn’t expected Roman’s surprising amount of maturity regarding the issue, including the way Roman had promised to listen to him more often. Virgil had shrugged, saying it was about time Roman started doing that anyway.

He hadn’t thought anything of it, not really. And it had been pleasant, being listened to. Not being treated like a villain.

He should’ve known it wasn’t going to be only a few days for Roman to completely change his black-and-white view of the world.

Roman listened more, that was true, but he didn’t talk as much either. He stood quietly, occasionally asking softly for clarification.

“…L-Logan?”

Logan pauses mid-sentence, glancing over at Roman. Roman sits there, twisting his fingers together.

“Yes?”

“Can you…slow down a little bit?”

Logan blinks. He’d been talking about recent discoveries made in the field of quantum physics, just getting to the part about how SUSY particles could reconcile the different interpretations of the expansions of the universe. Roman had been the only one who volunteered to listen, and he half-expected Roman to dismiss the topic entirely or say he had some important thing to go to. He had not been expecting this.

Roman did not seem to interpret his silence in this way.

“It’s just,” he stammers frantically, “it’s not that I’m not interested, I am, I can assure you, I’m just…I’m having trouble keeping up with you.”

He balls his hands up tightly in his lap, staring at Logan with a frantic sense of urgency.

“It’s okay if you can’t or you don’t want to, y-you’re not boring me, I promise, and I don’t want you to stop, but can you please try and talk a little slower? I don’t…I don’t want to miss anything,” he trails off.

“It’s…it’s quite alright, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I’m happy to slow down.”

Roman’s face breaks into a relieved smile. “Okay, thank you, I don’t know what’s going on with me today.” He taps the side of his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Not all here, it seems. Sorry, Specs.”

“You needn’t apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “I would be more than happy to slow down. Are you quite sure I’m not boring you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Logan smiles. “…good.”

“C-can I say what I’ve gotten so far,” Roman asks hesitantly, “and then you can correct me where I’m wrong and then jump back in when we get there?”

“Of course.”

Roman had Remus share almost as many ideas as he did, but he didn’t share his own as much either.

“Roman? Do you have anything to add?”

Roman shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as he watches Remus bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“I believe we have a solid idea,” he says, gently elbowing Remus, “and there is nothing I can do to improve it.”

“You know, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, shoving Roman back, “you’ve gotten so much less boring.”

Roman chuckles lightly, picking himself up off the wall. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am!” Remus claps his hands. “But are you sure we can’t build in the part about—“

“We are not unearthing a roadkill corpse, Remus.”

Roman didn’t puff up when he was teased anymore, but he didn’t defend himself in any other way as much either.

“Could you be more extra,” Virgil sighs, nudging Roman, “really, Princey?”

Roman pauses, before slowly lowering his hands. “I am, aren’t I?”

Virgil’s eyes widen. “Guys! Guys, I got Roman to admit that he’s extra!”

“You did what?” Remus vaults over the couch. “You did it!”

“That is in fact a marvelous breakthrough,” Logan says, drinking his coffee, “especially for Roman.”

“Good to see you’re finally developing some self-awareness, kiddo,” Patton says with a wink, patting Roman on the shoulder.

Janus smirks, shifting in his chair. “Yes, because Roman’s observational skills have always been at the forefront.”

“Alright, alright,” Roman says finally, waving his hand, “I’m extra, I get it.”

It took far too long for them to realize that just because Roman’s behavior had changed, it didn’t mean he wasn’t still struggling with the ramifications of it. It took them far too long to realize that Roman still clung to the ideas of heroes and villains, the roles had just shifted. It took them far too long to realize that the ego, still hiding its black and blue skin, was still living in fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It took Janus far too long to realize he wasn’t doing his job.

“Oh, come now, I’m only teasing.”

“And that’s supposed to make everything better, is it?”

Janus pauses, the sharpness in Roman’s voice killing the follow-up in his throat. His eyes don’t widen at how Roman looks at him. For the first time in a long time, Roman’s gaze is filled with fire as he stares at Janus. It gives him pause for a moment. Just a moment. Then his smirk is back.

Good. You were starting to get boring.

“You realize that saying you’re teasing doesn’t make it hurt any less, right?”

“Oh, sweetie, there’s really no need to get so worked up—“

“Don’t pretend that your intention has not been to make me uncomfortable.”

“Then why’re you letting it get to you so?”

“…so if Remus tries to knock me out with his morningstar, I shouldn’t get hurt because it’s his intention to hurt me?”

Janus blinks. This is absolutely the direction he thought Roman was going to go. “That’s not quite the same thing.”

“So I shouldn’t prioritize emotional and mental pain the same way as physical pain?”

“…I didn’t say that—“

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it frustrating to have your words taken out of context and applied in ways you obviously didn’t mean? Wow, I wonder what that feels like.”

Janus’s surprise is hidden quickly as Roman takes a deep breath in. He expects Roman to bite back, to push, to hurl acid-laced insults at him. Given how Roman has been taking most of…this lying down as of late, he expects it, even if he would be a little...disappointed. In some way, he doesn’t deserve it.

That’s exactly what happens.

“…I understand that you care and you help in your own way. And I’m grateful for it, really, I am. You…you make people look at themselves—really look and you make me think and it’s great but it’s exhausting.”

Roman buries his face in his hands, pressing his fingertips hard to his eyes. It doesn’t hurt to see him so…tired.

“I can’t—I can’t do this all the time. I can’t do this most of the time. You know that. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if that were the point.”

“…I do have a point.”

“You always have a point. That’s the problem. You are nothing but points, there’s nothing to you but—“

Roman stops, taking a deep breath and pressing his forehead with a fist.

“No, sorry, that’s…that’s not true. The version of you that you choose to present to me and to the others most of the time is nothing but points. There is no softness. No give. Not an ounce. It’s always a fight. I have to…double and triple check every single thing that comes out of your mouth, and I’m not…I…”

Another deep breath. Something softens.

“I respect you. I admire you. I like you. But I don’t know what you want from me.”

Janus isn’t shocked.

Not just at the fact that Roman is expressing all of this out loud, not just at what Roman is saying, but how the bitter taste slowly filling his mouth isn’t coming from any of it.

Roman isn’t lying. Not about this.

What happened in those days when you shut yourself away?

It takes him a moment to realize Roman is waiting for an answer.

“I don’t want you hurt.”

Roman huffs. No malice behind it, just exhaustion. “You enjoy putting me in situations that actively make me uncomfortable and you have enjoyed hurting me in the past. Try again.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Roman sighs.

“Look, I don’t think I’m in the right space for this conversation and the last thing I want to do is mess this up any more than I already have, can we…can we do this later?”

He nods slowly, even though it takes him back to hear Roman ask for something. It doesn’t sting a little to know he isn’t the one that’s made it easier for him to do so.

“Thank you, I—you...you know I care about you, right?”

Not many things can take him by surprise, not many things can make him more surprised than this conversation already has, but this…this earnest confession, this does. He nods.

“Good.”

They don’t speak for days. They don’t even see each other for days. Then Roman has an episode.

The others are away, helping Thomas. Roman is alone. He rides the attack to its end but he’s still trying to recover. This one was bad. He needs to get up, he needs to eat, he needs to drink, he needs to but he knows if he stresses out too much about this, he’s just going to send himself into another attack. He’s trying to breathe but it’s hard. It’s so hard.

Janus wasn’t even looking for him. And yet there he is, sprawled on the floor, hunched over, hands trembling as he struggles to breathe. For a moment he worries at how much he can feel that Roman’s afraid. Afraid of Janus. Janus…he hasn’t exactly shown him his…full capabilities.

And, in his defense, really, Roman is so clever, so sweet, so open that he can’t help but play with him, test him, poke at his comfort zone just enough to see him squirm. And Roman is lovely, truly, he is. And yes, part of him was thrilled when Roman finally snapped at him, but he’s right. Janus is…he has not been good to him.

Time to change that.

He approaches slowly, crouching, and offering a hand. The suspicious look that he gets doesn’t hurt his chest. He does blame him. But Roman trusts, he trusts too easily sometimes and this wouldn’t be the first time Janus has ever taken advantage of it. He tries to convey that he won’t break it when Roman takes his hand. He tries not to think about how much of this is Roman going along with it if only to prevent himself from being hurt.

He leads Roman to one of the common spaces on the Dark Sides’ hallway. It’s almost never used anymore, not since the barrier between Light and Dark started breaking down. He looks at Roman to see such an unsure expression that he can’t help the soft noise when he guides him to sit on the couch.

Janus keeps Roman in the corner of his vision as he carefully shrugs off his cloak. He considers draping it over Roman’s shoulders but decides that might be a bit too much. Too much for right now, even as his mouth starts to taste bitter.

What does he want? Roman can’t stop thinking it. He’s three seconds away from another attack, what’s happening, what’s going on, I don’t know what to do—

A gentle hand cups his chin and he distantly thanks whatever higher power there may be that Janus’s gloves aren’t a bad texture. But then he has to make eye contact and oh it’s the worst. He doesn’t know what’s keeping this fragile peace. He knows Janus will see through any mask he tries to put on right now.

But not wearing a mask…he’s not sure he remembers how to do that.

He tries.

I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, can’t you see? Can’t you see that if you just tell me, I’ll be good? Whatever you want, I can do it, I promise, I’ll be good, I can be good, but I can’t do it if I don’t know what you want and if you tell me I’ll do it, just tell me what you want me to do, I can’t figure it out, I want to be good, but I don’t—I can’t—what do you want?

Janus sees. He sees all of it and it doesn’t break his heart.

He lets Roman go, the ache getting worse when he immediately shuts his eyes. He crouches, waiting.

When Roman opens his eyes again, he tries to offer. What do you want? Let me help, if you want?

Too much, perhaps. So he tries smaller.

Roman’s unsure when he offers his hand again. He…Janus doesn’t like being touched. But would he really be offering if he wasn’t okay with it?

Janus smiles when Roman reaches a trembling hand out. Slowly, carefully, he takes it in two of his, playing with it gently. Running his fingers over the back, tracing the knuckles. Roman’s hand is so much more...worn than the others. There are calluses, scars, so many stories that Janus can’t help exploring, smiling a little when the light touch makes Roman twitch. Even here, Roman’s scared of doing something wrong. His fingers tremble, try and move to match the shapes he makes.

Keeping Roman’s hand in his, Janus stands, tugging in a gentle ask for Roman to come with him. Roman stands up too fast and a second pair of arms shoots out to steady him. He looks so small…smaller still when Janus sits them down on another couch, between his legs.

Stay with me, Roman.

Playing with his hand again gets his attention, the second pair of arms holding Roman close. He waits. Waits to gently tug that hand a little closer. Roman shuffles. His phone tumbles out of his pocket and Janus catches it with his third pair of arms, setting it carefully on the table.

He lays back, all six arms accounted for. Waits.

Is something you want?

Roman looks so apprehensive, reaching out with his other hand. He folds Roman in gently, letting him move at his own pace, easing his weight down on top of Janus like they’re afraid of hurting him. As soon as he’s all the way down, still propping himself up to keep the weight off of Janus, Janus embraces Roman tightly, smiling a little at the way he instantly goes limp, exhaling sharply. Part of him takes a little selfish pleasure at having Roman in his arms; he’s so warm, he’s just the right weight, he fits so perfectly. But he’s still so tense, poor thing…

Just as he did with his hand, he explores gently. He lightly traces up and down Roman’s sides, wiggles his fingers as he runs them along Roman’s spine. Smirks a little when he feels Roman’s muscles tense and shift as he squirms under the gentle attention. Sweet little thing is ticklish too, hmm?

Like Roman, he doesn’t want to risk breaking this moment with too much noise, but he has to really fight the urge to coo and fuss when he starts scratching his hands through Roman’s hair. Roman whines for him, completely involuntarily, and it’s so small and tired and hopeful and adorable that he can’t help seeing if he can make him do it again. He can.

They have no idea how long they lie there but an alarm on Roman’s phone breaks the silence. Janus barely glances at the label—‘stop and get back to work’—as he shuts it off. He laments its intrusive presence as Roman startles horribly, scrambling up. And he can’t help himself, he catches him.

Roman should get back. He should do so many things but Janus is being so kind and he’s not too warm and Roman has no idea how he’ll react and what if they never get this chance again and he’s holding him so gently and the way he’s looking at him…

Is this something you want?

Janus lets out a soft oof when Roman throws himself at him, wrapping his arms around him so tightly he’s sure it hurts. But it’s the thing he wanted and the thing Roman wants and it’s perfect.

He clings to Roman just as tightly until his own arms ache from it. Still, he holds on, until Roman slumps, burying his warm face into his scales without hesitation. Roman’s breathing stutters, he’s still so scared...so Janus softens, gentles his grip, goes back to the soothing touches from before. Tries to lull Roman back into that half-doze they were in before. It takes a long time, much longer than he’d like. Roman keeps jerking himself awake, his fists clenching and unclenching, unsure where to put his head, where to put his arms.

He breaks finally when his fingers hit a sensitive spot on Roman’s back and Roman gasps, Janus instinctively holding Roman closer and smoothing the hair away from his ear.

“Shh…shh…” One pair of his arms come up to hold Roman’s hands. “Shh… shh…”

I want you to calm down, Roman, that’s all I want right now. Shh…

It takes several minutes of careful shushing to get Roman to relax, several more before his breathing evens out and he dozes, right there in his arms.

They still need to talk. Roman’s carrying so much grief with him that, now that he’s looking, he can see the strain. Roman is so tired, he can feel it. And he desperately wants to know what happened to turn Roman into this frightened creature, constantly bracing for a blow, so confused in the face of any affection. But for now…

He’s self-preservation, protection when protection is needed most. Of course he can be caring.

He leaves Roman in Patton’s care, giving them the space they need to make sure he doesn’t push. Not now, perhaps not ever. He receives a gentle thank-you when they happen to pass in the corridor. And it’s…good. There’s a sweet aftertaste in his mouth when he talks for a few days.

A few days later, his mouth tastes horribly bitter again and he knows it’s time. He appears to see Roman sitting ramrod straight, staring at the wall.

“…well, you certainly look as calm as can be.”

“Oh. Hi, Janus.”

“Hello. What seems to be troubling you?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry. I’m alright.”

The lie tastes sour. “May I join you?”

Roman nods.

“Thank you.”

“Did you need something?”

“Are you…in a proper enough headspace to have that conversation?”

“…yes. Yeah, I think so.”

He can’t quite taste another lie. This is probably what Virgil means when he says it’s important to trust people about their own boundaries.

“I have a proposition for you. I would like you to hear me out before commenting.”

“Of course.”

“…you lie quite often.” Roman nods. “You are not of the opinion that lying is inherently wrong.”

Roman shakes his head nervously.

“You use lying as a defense mechanism to protect yourself, don’t you?”

A new wave of bitterness.

“…do not be afraid,” he says quietly, “it’s quite common.”

Roman’s brow furrows a little.

“Your first response to any question that causes a heightened emotional response is usually a lie,” he explains, “because your instinct to protect yourself kicks in and forces you to say what you think the asker wants to hear.”

Roman’s mouth tightens.

“It also coincides with the need to make yourself as small as possible. If you…do not require many things, or if you do not actively contribute to things that require any extra effort, odds are you will not be hurt.” Janus tilts his head. “I believe Virgil calls it ‘being low maintenance.’”

Roman huffs a laugh and looks away.

“Does that sound about right?”

“…mhm.”

Janus fiddles with the cuffs of his jacket almost absentmindedly. Roman has developed a…particular style of dishonesty that intrigues him.

Roman is very open about vulnerable topics; speaking freely and without hesitation about how he feels about his looks, his mannerisms, his sexuality, pretty much every aspect of themselves that the Sides can think to ask about. But that’s not the same as actually being vulnerable. It’s hiding behind too much honesty, taking advantage of the fact that others don’t tend to talk about those types of topics in that much detail to let them mistake it for actual vulnerability. But it’s not. It’s just a different type of hiding.

It’s not a lie. Not even a lie of omission. Which means it’s harder for Janus to detect. Even harder for the others. So it’s easier for them to believe Roman is more honest than they are. Which let him get away with lying, let him get away with sacrificing his own needs, let him get away with hurting himself.

The pitch is the easiest part, Janus decides. Definitely.

“Virgil and I have an arrangement of sorts,” he opens with finally. “Logan helped us figure it out. If…one of us receives an answer they believe is untruthful, a second chance is offered.”

“A…what?”

“If I ask Virgil a question, or if Virgil asks me a question, and we don’t believe the answer we receive to be true, we say: ‘second chance.’ Then we have another chance to answer. There are never any consequences for lying, or choosing to take the second chance.”

“…so…”

“So if I were to ask you what’s troubling you—“

“It’s fine,” Roman says quickly, “really, it is.”

Janus gives him a small, sad smile. No, no it isn’t, but this will serve as a good point.

“Second chance?”

Roman’s mask slips. It’s a good mask. Right up there with Patton, and Logan, if he’s being evaluative. Perhaps even up there with his own. But it’s cracking.

“You know it’s unwise to try and lie to me, dear,” he pushes.

Ah. Too much. Fear swells up behind Roman’s eyes and he stammers.

“…I…”

“If you do not wish to tell me,” he soothes, “I will not force you too.”

“Then I would rather not say,” Roman says carefully, each word laid down for Janus’s inspection.

“And there are no consequences.”

The wave of pure relief that washes over Roman is enough to make Janus smile properly. There’s a horrible moment where he looks like he doesn’t believe it, he’s waiting for the punchline, but then it doesn’t come and Roman just slumps, a massive weight rolling off his shoulders. Janus can’t help but watch the corner of his mouth tick up higher and higher as he realizes it’s okay.

“Well, judging by that expression,” he says, “this certainly will be awful for you.”

Another thing about Roman is that for some reason, probably tied to his connection to the Imagination, is that he has this…field around him. Janus is sure Logan’s not interested in it at all and they haven’t spend hours upon hours talking about it. But he can feel the wave of care and love and relief that hits him, making his heart ache pleasantly in his chest.

It’s gone far too quickly and Janus isn’t saddened by it, his brow furrowing when Roman fidgets with his hands, obviously trying to work up the nerve to ask something.

“…why…when you said this was common,” he says eventually, “what did you mean?”

Ah. This won’t be difficult at all.

“The…sophistication of your coping mechanism indicates that it has been developed over a long period of time,” he starts.

“…okay?”

“Not uncommon in victims of abuse.”

“What…what are you talking about,” Roman stammers, obviously trying to laugh it off, “I—I haven’t been abused.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s…oh, Roman…

“We have ridiculed you for expressing vulnerability,” Janus murmurs, “we have ignored you when you express deep feelings. Sometimes, when you attempt to speak about them, we tell you that your feelings are not worthy of your reaction, or we are indifferent.”

Janus shifts, letting his regret bleed into his voice as he continues.

“We have manipulated you to get what we want. We have used shame to make you feel bad.” Janus clenches his fists in his lap. “We have led you to believe things are your fault when they aren’t. We have pushed you to question your sanity.”

There’s an awful silence.

“We’ve been gaslighting you, Roman,” Janus murmurs, “and worse. Tell me, what does that sound like to you?”

Any semblance of relief from earlier vanishes, replaced by denial, worry, panic, and so much anxiety for a moment Janus worries Virgil’s going to be summoned.

Then his mouth fills with an acrid taste, coating his tongue so much it almost chokes him.

“…I’m sure you know that I’m summoned by continuous lying.” Why I appeared in the first place.

Poor Roman barely hears him enough to nod.

“I know what the lies are when I hear them.”

Another nod.

“Which means,” he murmurs, reaching out and gently touching Roman’s temple with two fingers, “…I can hear these.”

Roman freezes.

“There. That.” Janus’s eyes widen. “Oh, oh no, sweetie, I’m not here to be cruel to you.”

Roman doesn’t hear him.

“Breathe, honey, come on…in for four, hold for seven, out for eight.”

Roman’s not breathing at all. Janus leans forward to try and help when Roman’s mouth opens, his voice sharp and determined.

“When people lie,” he says, “does it hurt you?”

“What?”

“Does it hurt you?”

He knows what Roman’s asking and he adores it, of course he does. He adores that Roman’s so worried about hurting him, not himself, Janus, that he’s willing to punish himself by forcing away a defense mechanism that he’s had for years because it might be hurting Janus. He loves it.

“…no. Not a direct correlation,” he says, “no. More often than not, I can tell or sense what the truth would be and…that is not often pleasant. But no, Roman, you are not physically injuring me when you lie.”

“And what about when you’re telling the truth?”

“…sweetie, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself far more that you’re going to hurt me.”

Roman’s face pinches as he looks away, so determined that it looks completely painless. It doesn’t hurt.

“Would you like a hug?”

“N-no, no, I’m fine.” Roman’s hands don’t shake. He doesn’t hunch around himself protectively.

“Second chance?”

“…please?”

“Come here.”

He’s warm, but not warm enough. His aura is relieved, but not relieved enough. He’s still, but not still enough.

The bitter taste in Janus’ mouth isn’t horrendously painful.

“No, sweetie, you’re not being inconvenient.”

You have hidden this so well, so well we never realized how much this hurts you.

“I’m not angry with you for trying to protect yourself.”

I will be the first to admit that I have…not acquitted myself well from the things I have done to you, please let me try now.

“You’re not hurting me.”

Don’t deny yourself comfort, especially when you need it so badly.

“And no, sweetie, I don’t hate being touched as much you think I do.” Janus does find it easy to cry, he does get overwhelmed easily. And yet the lies he can hear right now threaten to make tears spill over. “…must you be so cruel to yourself?”

“…sorry?”

Ah, yes, apologies. That’s a conversation for another time. Janus sighs, running a hand through Roman’s hair. “At any rate, it’s not like you’re nice and warm and much better suited than the others.”

Finally, the bitterness recedes, just a little. Janus swallows, washing away the last vestiges on his tongue, cuddling Roman closer. He looks down, seeing his mouth open and close. Laying a finger gently against his lips, he shushes Roman as he tries to speak.

“Hush, you don’t have to say anything, sweetie. I understand.”

“Okay,” Roman huffs, “I will say the whole…mind-reading thing is not ideal.”

Fair enough. “I am only paying attention right now because you seem to be having some difficulty speaking,” he murmurs, chucking him gently under his chin, “I will not be all the time.”

“Okay.”

“Or you could simply…not lie to yourself.”

“Unrealistic.”

It makes him laugh a little. “Something to work on, no?”

Roman nods, gently head-butting Janus’ hand. He smiles, cupping Roman’s chin, idly tapping his fingers. The smile grows when Roman closes his eyes, tipping his head back so Janus can scritch lightly.

“Perhaps it will help you with these,” Janus murmurs, lightly stroking his fingers over the shadowy bruises just below Roman’s collar, “hmm?”

“…Thomas, huh?”

Janus raises an eyebrow when Thomas summons him. “Well, this is entirely expected.”

“I need your help.”

“Then this can’t be serious at all.”

“It’s about Roman.”

Janus pinches off the rest of his sarcasm. “Tell me.”

“I, uh, I made a…discovery,” Thomas says, “about…things.”

“How remarkably descriptive.”

“You know the phrase ‘bruised ego?’”

Janus stiffens at Thomas’s words. “…I am familiar.”

“…turns out it’s a lot more literal than I thought.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

It’s Janus’s job to protect the ego.

What…what has he done?

“He doesn’t care for you at all, sweetie.”

Roman opens his eyes, peering up at him with poorly disguised hope.

“Neither, for that matter,” he continues, running a thumb over Roman’s jaw, “do the others. Virgil, for one, despises you for being able to make him feel so wonderfully safe.

“Patton thinks the absolute worst of you—“ he pats Roman’s cheek— “and the care that you give so freely to others.

“Remus, well, he of course doesn’t value you at all,” he drawls as he tucks a loose piece of hair behind Roman’s ear, “let alone your willingness to touch and interact with him as he’s so used to that.

“And Logan would definitely prefer it if you were to never be so clever and considerate ever again,” he finishes, stroking his thumb across his forehead.

“I don’t think,” Roman murmurs, “that I’ve ever been so glad to be pretty fluent in sarcasm.”

“Yes, your sarcasm is absolutely awful.”

“Yes, I know, I love you too.”

He expects a familiar bitterness to wash over his tongue. It doesn’t.

Oh.

“You don’t have to say it,” Roman mumbles, almost about to doze off in his arms, “you don’t have to say anything. It’s just…it’s there if you want it.”

“I definitely won’t take it,” he says as he presses their foreheads together, “and you definitely can’t fall asleep right here.”

There needs to be another conversation. He needs to know what happened after the wedding. He needs to know how, or perhaps more accurately, why Roman changed in the span of only a few days. He needs to know how Roman got so good at pretending.

He tries not to think about how much worse he’s made it.

…he also would like to know exactly what Roman meant when he said he loved him.

#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #roman angst #roman sanders #roman sanders angst #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roceit #rociet

476 notes · View notes

iwantescapism13 · 2 years

Text

Dark Marcy Multi-Part Theory: Explanation

To those who have read the 9 parts of my theory, thank you very much for tuning in. If you haven't read them, I'll be linking back to the posts on the individual parts below.

So... here are my explanations:

Part 1 - Sasha and a Plantar must be caught

It's a fact that Sasha is powerful. It doesn't matter that she'll hesitate to hurt Marcy because they're good friends. The Core will not take the chance of her roaming around.

A Plantar will be caught as well to make Anne choose. In this case it's Sprig because it ties back to his line "Why me?! Why always me?!" in 'Marcy At The Gates' (and also because Sprig in danger was a trigger to Anne activating her powers). All these are part of The Core's taunt. I questioned before: what if The Core knows about Anne's fainting spell and the fact that she can't fully control the powers? What if it knows exactly how long she can use it?

Part 2 - Marcy and The Core having a conversation

3 key things in this part: 1) the super fun detail that I used the Mandarin version of Lumity's confession as part of The Core's intimidation, 2) The Core insulting Andrias, and 3) Marcy deciding to play a game with The Core in order to get her control back. When we see Marcy again in 3B, I foresee that she'll be very helpless in the beginning. She'll be scared and wouldn't know what to do. But after seeing Anne and Sasha storm in the castle, after so long they've finally come and rescue her, she eventually develops the courage to fight back against The Core in her mind. It could also be a nod to her overconfidence and her unchanging nerdy side. It gives a comfort to the viewers that Marcy is still herself and that she's holding on as best as she can.

Part 3 - Marcy and The Core plays a game

This is one effective way I know Marcy can get out of the mindscape: a game with The Core - to force The Core to submit to her and crown her the smartest of them all and give her back the control of her body (whether The Core will give it back, though, is another question entirely but I didn’t include it here). It could be any game, really. But The Core will definitely not choose Flipwart. Although it might think it's disadvantageous to Marcy (since it is confident that its amalgamation of Amphibia's brilliant minds will not lose), I'd think it would have that stupid thought of "what if we can beat her in a game that she's usually good at?".

Part 4 - The Core intimidates Anne again

So Anne has activated her powers. And The Core is trying to prolong this by making her angry, making her use her powers more thus deactivating faster, and she'll faint. The ending scene of 'A Day At The Aquarium' is being used often to make Anne realize how much she had hurt Marcy. Marcy may not feel this way, but The Core can manipulate it so Anne feels guilty and makes her hesitate to do anything.

The Core questioning Anne regarding the long time she'd spent on Earth and how much fun she had while her friends were suffering in Amphibia and Anne's reply that she had tried as best as she could, could be the show's poke fun to people who hated Season 3A's pacing.

The Marcanne thing was too abrupt and sudden, I'm aware, but it was added to get Dark Marcy distracted. In the actual show, if it happens, I predict that it'll be a comedic action from another character or something else entirely.

The ending where Anne was able to get to Marcy's mindscape by the help of her powers... I actually think that this could happen because the gems are much more connected than we all thought.

Part 5 - The Mindscape

I had a thought that Anne will never be able to talk to Marcy through Dark Marcy. She HAVE to be in the mindscape, convince her to keep fighting. At this point, Marcy is still apologetic. The Marcanne moment being the most important thing in this part. Anne telling her that she's finally home, that she's supposed to be happy... but she wasn't... because something felt missing. This scene was inspired by the ending of 'A Froggy Little Christmas'. Supposedly, this part was created to focus only on Marcanne but then... I feel like the show wouldn't do this, so I added Sasha. They are the Calamity Trio, after all. And Sasha's role is quite important for the next part.

Part 6 - Platonic Sasharcy

So Anne has fainted. This, then, opens the chance for Sasha and Marcy to talk alone.

The awkwardness between the two is intentional, because I feel like Sasha and Marcy don't really have much things to talk about. Like, they get along, of course. But if Anne isn't in the picture, their relationship is, as Matt Braly stated before, "a professional one".

The Core electrocuting Marcy in her mind is something that I also predict it will do in order to get her in line. To make sure that she doesn't get her control back (since it seems that her friends being there in the mindscape is giving her so much courage).

I'm not entirely sure on what the "BGR" significance is to the fandom, but that section is only added for Marcy to instruct Sasha how to open the box (and how she can get each one of the gems). This was a nod to 'The First Temple' where Marcy was able to get one of the gems with a push of a few buttons.

Part 7 - Sasha, the hero

Sasha, to me, has always been this misunderstood hero. She have the confidence of one. So I predict that, in the show, there would be a scene of her doing something heroic. In this case, it'll be the important moment of getting Anne to wake up.

In the show, because the frogs are still important, I can foresee that they'd put the Plantars as the ones to do something about the Calamity Box. But in here, it just makes more sense for Sasha to do it because she was in the mindscape and she's just doing whatever Marcy instructed her.

Part 8 - Marcy's real feelings

If you know Amphibia well, the flashback part between King Andrias and Marcy is inspired by a storyboard wherein it mentioned that Marcy wanted Anne and Sasha to find her in Newtopia instead rather than her going around to find them. Also, it was inspired by my own idea of when the "This is what you get for pouring your heart out to me over Flipwart" scene happened: which is before 'A Day At The Aquarium'.

This is also half-inspired by my girlfriend's idea that there are things that Marcy feels but she never, ever show it. It's just one example of Marcy's selfishness (other than transporting them to Amphibia without their consent), though, and I feel like The Core will use it to its advantage.

And for the last part... I have a separate theory about it...

#amphibia #amphibia spoilers #dark marcy theory #theory explanation #marcanne

10 notes · View notes

raining-stormcloud · 3 years

Text

Sanders sides oneshot

Intrulogical

This takes place directly after DWIT! Any other videos have not happened yet, but I'm still using Janus' real name.

TW: some sad remus, yelling

Remus sighed, his long day had gotten the best of him as he flopped onto the couch. He grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and flicked on the TV. Static showed on the screen, and as he flipped through the channels, the noise from the static just got louder and louder. Perks of being a dark side I guess, no TV. The duke looked up to see a familiar face. Janus had sat beside the intrusive trait, watching as Remus carelessly threw the TV remote down.

"How was it?" The deceitful side asked, leaning back against the uncomfortable couch.

"I hit Roman over the head with my morning star," Remus said, rather monotonously, "And it was okay I guess, Thomas know about me now, but..." The duke trailed off.

"But...?"

"I don't know, I guess I expected it to go a little differently," Remus said.

"How so?" Janus asked, now a little confused as to why Remus wasn't bragging about his appearance in Thomas' video.

"Virgil and Patton reacted how I thought they would, but Logan- Logan didn't really seem affected!" Remus exclaimed, sitting up and staring at the blank TV. "I wanted to get under his skin y'know? and I managed to a little bit, but after a while, he started bothering me!"

Janus nodded to encourage him to continue.

"I threw throwing stars at him, I knocked his teeth out, I threatened him, but nothing, he just said that I had no effect on him! It's infuriating, I want to be scary, I want to show up unexpectedly, I want to reek as much havoc as I can into their souls! I just want them to notice me..."

Remus hadn't realised that his eyes had begun to water until he felt a singular tear run down his face. "I... I just want Logan to notice me..." The Duke quickly wiped his face, trying to stop himself from crying as the earth-shattering truth had just been revealed.

The snake-like side beside him gently placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping Remus from panicking too much. "I think you might have given him the wrong first impression..." Janus offered, "Maybe go talk to him..?"

Remus' eyes glanced down at the floor, looking at his feet as he took a deep breath. "What if he casts me out? Or tells me to go away?" He said, his thoughts plaguing with other 'what if's that he didn't deem necessary to share at that moment.

"If I know anything about Logan, considering I've impersonated him, I don't think he will do anything like that, you just need to go talk to him," Janus soothed.

Remus nodded slightly, his thoughts racing as he slowly stood up. "Thanks, Double-Dee."

~Lightside mindscape~

Virgil and Roman were bickering again, Patton trying to calm the two down as Logan watched from the couch.

"You are so insufferable!" Virgil yelled, earning an offended gasp from the prince, who probably didn't even know what it meant.

"At least I'm helpful to Thomas!"

"You spent the last video on the floor!" Virgil exclaimed, "How is that helpful?!"

"That wasn't my fault! It was-"

"Mine..."

Everyone stopped to turn and look at Remus, who had appeared behind the TV, similarly to when he showed up in the video.

"Remus," Roman said through gritted teeth, "what are you doing here Brother?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Roman... I'm actually here to speak to Logan," The Duke spoke, his tone rather calm, although internally he was screaming through the fiery pits of Hell.

"Me?" Logan asked, perplexed.

"Yes... uh... you..." Remus answered, glancing around the room for something to keep his mind distracted.

"Oh, then of course, we can go to my room," Logan suggested.

Remus nodded as Logan began walking up the stairs, leading to a hallway that was lined with Six doors. The logical trait lead Remus to a blue door, with a small white L painted on, and the nerd's Logo beside the door frame. The other doors were similar to this, their colour as the door, their initial, and then their logo beside it, however, the others had taken the time to decorate their doors, to make them seem more unique, and "them". Remus glanced at the doors, his eyes landing on the end two doors. They were both blank, no colour or letters, and only an empty frame beside the door frame. The door on the same side as Logan's room looked newer than the other blank door, as though it had only recently shown up.

Logan opened his bedroom door, walking inside and snapping his fingers to light up the inside, though no windows or lamps could be seen. The duke soon followed, looking around the sparsely decorated room, and glancing at the few science posters Logan had stuck to the walls. "Now, what is it you wished to talk about?" The logical trait asked, taking a seat at his desk, but turning his chair to face Remus.

"Right, yeah, Uhm..."

"Take as much time as you need," Logan said, sensing a bit of nervousness from the Darkside.

That singular sentence made Remus more relaxed; Logan wasn't rushing him, he didn't want the Duke to hurry and leave, he actually wanted to listen to him.

"I was hoping we could maybe start over..." Remus said, looking down and scratching the back of his neck. "When I popped up today, I wanted to scare you, I wanted to get under your skin, but... I think I just want to talk to you..."

"We are talking now, are we not?" Logan asked, a little puzzled.

"Well- yes, but- it's hard to explain." Remus continued to tell Logan about how he wanted Logan to accept him and talk to him, and treat him better than any of the other sides did. He explained to the logical trait that his desire to get to know Logan had somehow formed itself into the desire to unnerve him and break him, but that's not what he wanted at all, and as time went on, Logan slowly started to understand.

"You... wished to be friends?" Logan asked once Remus had finished rambling.

"Friends! Yes! That's the word! I wanna be friends..."

Logan looked up at the Duke, his face holding a soft expression that not many had seen before. "I would love to be your friend Remus," The Logical side said.

"Really..?" Remus asked in disbelief. No one had wanted to be his friend before, he and Janus didn't really have a choice, but this time... this time he had made a friend, a proper friend.

"Of course."

The two sides sat together on Logan's bed watching a murder documentary. Remus spent the time pointing out the most gruesome parts and telling Logan all the ways he could do some sort of murder and get away with it. The logical trait didn't mind Remus' gruesome and uncomfortable comments, that any people would be creeped out by, and instead pointed out the things and facts wrong with the documentary, and would get frustrated when a very simple clue was missed or misjudged.

The two friends found the presence of each other very comforting, and this soon became the norm when Logan wasn't working, or if they were both excluded from a video. Friends, yes, two good friends.

And maybe one day they would become more.

#lgbt pride #intrulogical #sanders sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #fanfic #sanders sides fic #oneshot #wattpad

42 notes · View notes

thebestworstidea · 3 years

Text

Every One is Special

Dukeceit week #1 “Anniversary”

Mainly I used this as an excuse to dress them up.

Cannon-adjacent verse, implied sexual activity, ensemble cast

pairing- Janus/Remus,

----

It was easy to dismiss Remus as wild, uncontrollable and unpredictable. But once you got to know him, you could predict him, to a certain degree. And he was honest. At times dreadfully, horribly honest, and it almost always brought a smile to Janus’s face. While Janus tended to rein in the worst of his actions, Remus was always glad to see the other Side. They suited each other, and didn’t dance around it like some more thematically colored Sides. Remus loved parties, celebrations and other excuses to make noise, which had never endeared him to Virgil.

He kept track of far more ‘anniversaries’ between himself and Janus than Janus thought was practical.

When they became a couple. First kiss. First heavy makeout. First night together. First date. First sex acts. First ‘all the way’. First fight-as-a-couple. First time he’d managed to make food Janus was willing to eat. A whole slew of first times trying various kinks, which were traditionally celebrated by the kinks. (the ones that didn’t work out were allowed to be forgotten) First time one of them used a safeword. Really, any kind of event that stuck in his fascinating, festering pit of a mind.

Janus never lacked for chocolates or flowers or other small trinkets- frankly, he suspected Remus of making some of them up as an excuse to treat him to something. Sometimes it wasn’t something solid- his obsession with how muscles worked led to a superior set of massage skills. And if Remus chose to do that naked and oiled up himself, well… the view was good.

Tonight, however, was a very socially acceptable anniversary of when they had officially gotten together and started ‘dating’. Dating was a bizarre social concept but it was a label for the change in relationship, and they’d agreed on the term. Janus thought ‘fuckbuddy’ lacked nuance, and Remus wanted some word for it. Janus liked words as much as he did so they’d compromised on ‘dating’

Janus was absolutely sure that Remus had something planned- for one thing, Remus had told him so, then disappeared directly after breakfast, presumably to make preparations for it.

After a calm, leisurely morning, Janus made his own preparations. He stretched, moisturized and hydrated. He went to the trouble of separately acquiring lingerie from the Figment Suburb, and amused himself by turning into Patton on the way in and out so no one would see him do it. They could of course summon clothes, and Janus fancied himself quite good at it, but for some reason clothing made by other Sides or created in the Figment Suburb were more substantial and often had details they might have missed in just summoning things directly onto their bodies. Janus suspected the Imagination probably had a similar mechanic, given the trophies Remus would sometimes bring him, and Roman’s constant prattle about having a personal tailor there.

So the snug, silken and snake-skin printed garments were ‘purchased’ and put on separately. Janus didn’t need to lie to himself to say his ass looked fabulous.

Despite his personal inclination, he didn’t take an extra shower. Clean clothes would be enough, and Remus liked the way he smelled. Which was probably true, if odd, because if Janus worked up a sweat, which he preferred not to, he tended to smell more like a herpetarium than anything else. An acquired taste he supposed, and he definitely meant taste.

Standing in front of his mirror, Janus examined himself, trying various looks- the classic, of course, the more formal courtroom look- the suit with the cape pinned over it, which he kind of liked. He undid the tie, and a button, trying to decide between enticing and being a present himself.

A side effect of dating half of creativity is that it was very hard to get him a really good present. Remus treasured everything Janus did give him, even if he didn’t use them- the several different kinds of pajamas for instance, before he’d given up. Remus didn’t seem upset by it, accepting words and touch instead.

Janus decided on ditching the jacket, leaving him in a fitted black vest with gold buttons and a brilliant yellow dress shirt. Discarding the tie as well, he opened the collar a bit more, and rolled the sleeves to his elbows, displaying more scales than he normally did. Janus smiled at himself in the mirror, satisfied that he’d put together a look that would drive the Duke to distraction through whatever it was he had planned, which sounded like more of an activity than a simple dinner.

He was dressed just in time, as a knock came on his door. Settling his hat into place, Janus opened the door.

“Good evening Remus I-” he stopped as he took in how Remus was dressed.

Remus was unusually neatly attired in a velvet tuxedo jacket, vest and shirt, with a slightly blowsy bright green bow tie. There were silver threads in the ruffles of the shirt. The lapels were sparkly, but it was well tailored. He had paired it with a voluminous chiffon and tulle skirt with slightly uneven layers in black and brilliant green, also sprinkled with sparkles. His steel tipped boots were polished enough that if his skirt hadn’t been so big, Janus was sure he’d be able to see what, if any undergarments he’d chosen to wear. A silver octopus climbed over one ear, dangling a small ship from one tentacle, and a golden serpent curled around the other, the emerald in it’s eyes winking as it appeared to whisper in his ear. In addition to his normal makeup he sported fierce eyeliner and matte black lipstick.

“Well.” Janus blinked in surprise. “I’m under-dressed.”

“And not under-dressed enough in other ways.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows. “But that’s for later.”

“Oh ssstop.” Janus said, tone indicating that Remus needn’t follow the instruction, taking off his hat and holding it over Remus’s face for a moment. When he pulled it back and settled it back into place, his outer clothes had morphed.

Taking a cue from Remus’ clothing, he called up a formal coat whose sleeves cut away to form a silk-lined cap, cut tunic length across his thighs. His shirt was shimmery translucent gold chiffon, with a careful slip of wrist between the shirt cuff and the edge of his gloves. Both the coat and well fitted pants were satin. The boots he was wearing now gave him a slight boost of height, letting him look down at him slightly- just enough that Remus had to tip his chin to look him in the eye. He indulged in subtle Egyptian inspired eyeliner and a bit of shimmering gold eyeshadow that matched the shirt.

“Oooh.” Remus warbled, picking up Janus’s hand and turning it over so he could press a kiss to the bare skin there. The lipstick didn’t smudge or transfer, and part of Janus’s brain tipped to wondering how much it could take. “Now that’s a pretty snake.” Remus traced his hand under his lover’s chin. He had somehow achieved a manicure that managed to look sharp even with coffin tips, ombre from black to brilliant green like a strange french tip. The first two fingers of his nondominant hand were a bit longer, and had decals or jewelry on them. Remus always liked a bit of glitz, enjoying the way it contrasted with his trash-rat persona, but he was really pushing the boat out and setting it on fire tonight.

“You’re looking quite together.” Janus commented, giving Remus another long lingering look that went up and down his body. “It’s a magnificent look.”

Remus bounced happily on his toes, and let go of Janus’s hand so he could take a step back and twirl, letting the layers of filmy material of his skirt, and the tails of his jacket flare out. Janus gave a little clap of approval. Remus gave another little bounce of joy, then produced a strange fleshy bulb, and held it out in his palm. Cautiously Janus leaned in, and the bulb squirmed open like something growing on timelapse, spreading out to reveal what looked like a brilliantly yellow dahlia, set off by the slightly squirming fleshy vines that had hid it.

“I got you a boot-in-rear.”

“Boutonniere.” Janus corrected, amused. He let Remus fasten it to his lapel, and the vines stopped writhing quite so much.

Remus grabbed his hand again.

“Come on!” he cried, and pulled Janus forward, so fast he barely had time to shut his door behind himself. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to go snooping.

Remus cheerfully had them running down a hallway, which turned from the suburban home the Mindscape mimicked to a grand if someone disreputable manor house. Candles flickered dramatically in their wake, and in the distance, Janus heard the hiss of rain, and below that, the roar of the ocean. Remus had clearly put a great deal into the window dressing. Finally they came to the stop by a set of ornate doors. Dropping his hand for the moment, Remus smoothed his mustache and fluffed his tie. Then he dropped an impeccable bow- made slightly ridiculous by his rustling skirt- and tucked Janus’s arm through his. The doors opened of their own accord, bright golden light pouring out into the dim hallway.

Inside there was a banquet hall with a large clear dance floor set up in the u of tables. Savory and sweet scents tickled Janus’s nose so much he had to part his lips, letting the air flow over his tongue to pick out individual ones. It certainly seemed that Remus had gone all out. As they stepped out onto the landing of a sweeping staircase, the music stopped, and everyone turned to see them. It was a crowd, but they were all dressed well, even the monsters from Thomas’s nightmares that affected him so much they were burned into his subconscious. Shadowy echoes of friends and traits, roles that stuck with him. What really made his eyebrows go up was the sight of the other Sides. For a moment he thought they might be the figments that echoed them; but no, the Teacher, the Prince and the Dad were there in the ensemble, and Anxiety and Sleep were tucked into the furthest corner from the crowd.

Roman gestured grandly at them.

“To the couple of the evening, everyone;” And there was a cheer- of sorts.

“Remus what the fuck.” Janus muttered quietly, his face stuck in a smile, and his free hand came to rest on Remus’s, digging his claws in even through the gloves.

“We’re going to party like the world is ending!” he responded brightly. “Because as long as you’re with me, every year, I don’t care if it does. Happy Anniversary, J.D. Stay with me.”

Janus’s heart did a little flip, and a half formed plan shot forward ahead of time. An extra hand emerged from the cape, and twisted at the wrist, revealing a small box.

“Remus.” Janus said softly, as they were toasted by the crowd. Remus was being handed champagne flutes- one with a strawberry in it, the other with an eyeball- but focused on Janus as his name was said. Janus’s love of theatre shone through as he dropped to a knee, and presented it. “I absolutely will, if you’ll stay with me.”

“Holy shit!” Remus dropped the glasses and they shattered on the floor. “You mean-”

Janus flipped the box open.

It had been on his mind; but really they were not much more than advanced figments with jobs. They thought like people, they thought they were people, but in the end, what right or reason did they have to get married? The answer was simple. Because it’s what he wanted. And Janus loved going after what made him happy. He’d built up the ring carefully, making it strong and beautiful, sinuous bodies making the band up, woven gold and silver together, and a carved emerald, with a snake and an octopus wrestling.

“Too much?” Janus asked. Remus flung himself at him and they collapsed into a pile of limbs and chiffon gauze.

“When have I ever thought something was too much?” Remus demanded, and kissed him far too passionately for a public place. When they came up for air, Remus admired his new ring and laughed.

“You would, you fucking shill!” yelled Virgil from the crowd and Janus started laughing as well, pulling his fiance back into his arms, heedless of the fact they were rolling on the floor at the head of a staircase.

This was a good anniversary. One that he’d certainly always remember.

#willow is writing #dukeceit #dukeceit week

22 notes · View notes

sunnysviolin · 3 years

Text

Broken Melody

Haha made myself sad......like actually really sad. Anwayyyyy yeah here you go. Why did I call it this? I just...yeah I was listening to Stand by Me, and it made me emotional (It’s the Darby Walker version if any of you actually listen to my music mindscapes lol) I discussed this with my bestie, and I have a ton more that can go into this, but this is just the start. uhhh TW: Death

Hero was born in a flash of fireworks all around the world. He is born as one year turns the next, not even a full five minutes after the clock struck midnight.

He is born exactly on his due date, already punctual, a quiet sweet babe that gives one perfunctory cry and settles against his mother. On the back of his tiny right hand is a cluster of curling wavy music notes, all a soft grey. He was born before his soulmate. He doesn’t have to wait long, exactly three months later the colors fade in- soft purples and blues. Coincidentally their next door neighbor had her baby the same day.

When they take over a gift to meet Mari a month later, both sets of parents know it’s not quite a coincidence. It’s fate.

He doesn’t remember their first meeting, but his mother says he laughed loud and long and Mari squealed in joy merely at the sight of one another. Soulmates were confirmed by first touch, but apparently the two of them hadn’t needed it. They had been inseparable, unable to communicate, but knowing that together they were whole

When their mothers had tried to separate them, both infants wailed and wept. They had apparently had to wait until the two were deep in sleep before his mother could pick him up to bring him home. To Hero, there’s never been a day without Mari’s presence.

In the mornings she is either the first thing he feels, or he gets the joy of sensing her come alive and the lackadaisical burn of her morning stretches. At night she is the last thing he thinks of, a quiet warmth on his hand, holding it as he drifts away, the press of phantom fingers settling him into quiet dreams.

Finding your soulmate this early is almost unheard of. It’s rarer than rare, but to the two of them it’s just their life. It’s all they know. They’re aware they’re lucky, and everything is good. No one around them has ever seen such a strong bond. Most of the time the two of them don’t even need words, just side glances and a shared energetic connection.

Mari loves to say that she knows Hero ‘like the back of her hand’, a joke that inspires more groans than laughs. Hero tolerates it and every time gives her a kiss over his mark on her. Their love burns bright and long, cool colored music notes lighting a soft fire under their skin. When he’s thinking in class, he can’t help but run his fingers across the mark, when she’s studying, she leans her head against it.

There is no secrets between them, nothing hidden. It wouldn’t be possible to hide anything, not with a connection like that. Not with what they have. Until there is a secret between them. Something Hero had somehow missed.

Hero is the first person to know Mari died. Before Sunny’s mind caught up with his body and he rushed down the stairs. Before Basil ran forward to stand beside his best friend. Before Mari was even fully gone. Hero knew.

He and Kel had been laughing at silly ties. Kel was trying to convince him to wear something exceptionally stupid to his beloved’s recital, and Hero can’t help but indulge his little brother’s antics. They’re holding ties up to his chest and giggling when there’s a rush of unfamiliar anger in Hero’s chest. He pulls away from Kel, and he presses two fingers to his mark.

Nothing. No response from Mari. Strange. Wrong. He presses again, the swooping feeling in his stomach growing. He waits. Nothing. Kel looks at him and asks what’s wrong. His parents stop their chat.

Nothing. Just righteous anger.

He’s never felt anything like this from his girl. She’s been angry plenty, she’s been sad, she’s been petulant. With a bond like theirs, he knows all of her different emotions, good and bad. But this is...overwhelming.

Hero sits down on a nearby stool and stares down at his mark, his mind whispering something is Wrong. A momentary shock, a stabbing mirage of pain in his neck that makes his hands fly up to his throat as he chokes on nothing, and then emptiness. He had thought he felt nothing before but he was wrong. This was truly nothing.

Hero flies past panic and straight into shock. His parents are walking forward, and Kel is standing next to him calling his name, but Hero can’t hear. He lets his hands slowly release from where they had been clutching his neck and looks down.

His soulmark is black. Mari’s music notes, which had faded in and out of color in a watercolor ombre that reminded him of her piano playing, are black. Hero thought he knew what a black soulmark meant. It meant your soulmate died. That had always just been a fact. Black meant they were gone. Black was something to be sad about.

Hero wasn’t sad. Hero was confused. Nothing had prepared him for the reality, the ripped jagged edges of half of him being torn brutally away. He couldn’t understand it. Where were her colors? Her pretty purples to match his deep blues? Where was his girl? He couldn’t feel her, not even the anger which had come on so suddenly. He had never not felt her before.

His father is on the phone, talking frantically with someone, and his mother is holding his head against her chest, petting his hair over and over. He supposes she’s trying to comfort him. He can’t feel anything. He’s pretty sure he just died. He tries breathing, and he can, but it doesn’t feel like it works. He tries again, to the same effect. Hero out of the blue wonders if he will ever feel a real breath again. Maybe not.

They get in the car and race out of the store. His father speeds, and his mother is saying something. He and Kel sit silently in the back, Kel staring at him with wide eyes. Hero can only look down at the black notes on the back of his hand. He hasn’t tried touching them, not yet. He doesn’t know if he ever will. Maybe if he doesn’t this won’t be real. They won’t actually be there.

They get home to pandemonium. Police cars and ambulances and the eerie sound of Mari’s mother wailing as her father shouted elaborate curses at the officer’s holding him back. Hero’s father parks haphazardly in front of their house, and they all get out.

Their parents send them into their own house with strict instructions to stay in the living room. Then they go to see if there’s anything they could do to help. Hero could have told them there wasn’t, but it wouldn’t really matter.

Hero sits Kel on the couch and tells him not to move. Then he walks into their backyard. He walks in a daze out the door, past the patio that he and Mari liked to do their homework on in the Spring, towards the fence he and Mari peered at each other over sometimes when they felt like being silly.

He would peer over now, and she would be looking back at him. His marks would go back to the way they were meant to be, and everything would be okay. She would be there in the pretty white dress she had chosen as her outfit for the night, the same dress he was choosing a tie to match to. She would smile and call him silly, and tell him that she knew him like the back of her hand and he knew her just as well. That she would never leave him, not ever. Hero stands on his tip toes and looks.

She’s under their favorite tree. Her toes don’t touch the ground. She’s in her pretty white dress. It is stained red. His girl is under their tree. Her arms hang limply by her sides as she sways in the wind of the October night. Her music notes are black.

Hero already knew he had died right alongside Mari, but now he’s sure.

#There's defintiely more I could do with this #anywayyyy #i made myself sad #they're sad #everything is sad #omori #omori headcanons #omori fic #omori au #soulmate au #omori hero #omori mari #omori kel #heromari #omori kel's parents #tw: death

53 notes · View notes

waywardstation · 2 years

Note

(So sorry to add another ask to the inbox, but I have a feeling you don't mind too much :p)

Something I think would be really neat about MG Emmet in this au is that usually, in psychonauts at least, in the mindscape, a projection of a real person is based on the individual's perceptions of them.

Since Ingo and Emmet were so close, MG Emmet is almost an exact match, or at least a match to the Emmet that ingo knew at his time of departure.

He's surprisingly intact. Maybe there are things he can't say, can't communicate, like his name as that one anon suggested, but he still effectively functions as his own person. What if, even after the group pieces together who he is, there are parts of him that remain "censored" since ingo still doesn't fully remember?

I do think we're currently missing the opportunity to experience some major sibling shenanigans. ("Check this out!" MG presses a button on a control board. Irl Ingo sneezes.) Ingo would know better than anyone else how Emmet can be as a brother, the ways they annoy each other, the way Emmet taunts during a battle, the general displays of the Cain instinct. Maybe those more playful parts of Emmet come back to MG after ingo starts remembering more about him, along with the physical things.

You’re right, I don’t mind at all! No need to apologize! :)

Lots of people bringing up Psychonauts make me realize I should probably look into it more; I did feel like it would be a good idea for MG Emmet to be effected by Ingo’s memories of him (like MG Emmet is a fantastic battler, maybe even exaggerated because Ingo really views him as a strong trainer)

Your version of MG Emmet sounds very interesting, still being restricted by the limitations of Ingo’s memories, but he is still his own person.

AND YOU ARE SO RIGHT THAT HAS A LOT OF POTENTIAL HAHA

MG Emmet being playful and enacting the Cain instinct on Ingo is really funny. Dude’s just trying to tell Rei and Zisu and Melli he’s remembered another memory before consecutively sneezing six times in a row. Cut to MG Emmet spamming a sneeze button.

I’m not sure how exactly that would work but the thought of MG Emmet messing with stuff is really funny. Sure he’s protecting what’s left of his brother’s memories, and he takes his job at the station seriously!!! …but he is still a projection of Ingo’s brother, and the Cain instinct cannot be ignored.

thank you for sending this!

#submas #ingo #pokémon legends arceus #subway boss ingo #warden ingo #pokémon #subway masters #subway bosses #subway master emmet #subway boss emmet #emmet #train of thought au #CAIN INSTINCT

125 notes · View notes

lovecolibri · 3 years

Note

Ok cons and spite bits first

- I'm really getting tired with Maria's bits cause Liz figured out Jones all by herself but Maria went through this whole convoluted way to tell Isobel and Rosa, that was messing with and freaking Rosa out. ALSO FINALLY SOMEONE PUT THE DAMN NECKLACE ON HER CAUSE SHE CAN'T BE TRUSTED TO HAVE ANY SELF PRESERVATION. I low-key thought the handprint was actually a physical manifestation of her brain deteriorating MORE because she's been so vision obsessed.

- I will be honest and say the Jones reveal was really mediocre for me because it felt like/ I knew it was going to happen so it wasn't really much of a surprise. It felt inevitable. Also Jones just really hits different from Max so I already knew from that too 😂 I actually went "Oh dang you're so good and kinda hot in this scene!... Oh wait you're Jones no wonder 😔"

- I was a little sad there wasn't another malex scene BUT I'LL GET TO WHAT I DID LOVED NOW!

Pros and love!

- ALEX. MY DUDE. I MISSED YOU. YOU'RE SO SMART! JUST ALL THE ALEX SCENES WITH EVERYONE!

- The start of the episode was so good and I really missed Liz and Michael scenes 😭 give me my science bros back! (which also includes Kyle of course!)

- SANDERS. MVP. BEST DAD. ALSO SO VERY SMART. OG MALEX SHIPPER. GIVE ME MORE SANDERS AND MICHAEL DAMMIT.

- of course Rosa and her earmuffs!!!! And her teaming up with Isobel

- I just wanna say that me and @winged-fool were right about Ramos being from one of the family lineages at Deep Sky! Though now I really want Kyle to take over Deep Skies with Alex. Kyle my man I'm sorry you keep finding out about more relatives this way 😂

- MICHAEL USING HIS POWERS YES MORE. JONES ALSO USING HIS POWERS AND THAT ALIEN SWORD. THAT WAS HOT.

- Michael finding Deep Sky OMG I CAN'T WAIT FOR THAT. WHAT'S WILL HAPPEN! WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON AT DEEP SKY! WHAT RAMOS WAS ON THE PHONE ABOUT!

- ALEX AND LIZ SCENE LIKE FINALLY FRIENDS!!!! WHY DOES THIS SHOW KEEP FORGETTING THEY WERE ALL CHILDHOOD FRIENDS????

So it was a good episode but nothing has beat that 3x03 high that dragged me back in, here's to hoping we get more!

💛💛💛💛 I hope you enjoy your Tuesday!!!! 💛💛💛💛

Sorry I'm so late getting to this!

So I thought the deteriorating mindscape thing was a really cool effect (also it helped that m*ria wasn't there so we just got to see Isobel interacting with the set) but it doesn't make sense if Jones just put her to sleep that everything would be like that so I'm guessing there's something more going on? But is it going to leave permanent damage because it looks like her mind is crumbling. But at this point I just don't really care what happens to her so, 🤷‍♀️

NGL, I love the Jones stuff just because I had been WAITING for some mistaken identity shenanigans! I think it would have been better if they told the audience first that it was Jones and then it would have been more fun being "in" on the secret while everyone else didn't know. As it is, most fans DID know because Jones is...not very good at imitating Max but because the were giving the audience the *wink, wink. nudge, nudge* by having it pretty clearly be Jones, it just made the other characters look a little slow on the uptake. But overall I thought it was fun.

The fact that the released the entirety of the only scene Malex were in together as a sneak peek is my villain origin story.

BAMF ALEX MANES MY BELOVED! I was so happy to see him back and being smart and sassy, and god the memes to come out of Alex's look at "do you believe in aliens?" have been priceless.

We definitely need more science bros!! We were robbed of getting to see the three of them working together last season and I demand to see it this time around!

Sanders was a surprise, I wasn't sure if we would get him back this season and then we DID and he was PERFECT. Him and Michael have clearly gotten closer and built up a solid relationship and Sanders teasing Michael about Alex was SUCH a dad moment! 😭😭😭 And then him helping Michael to focus and think through things was so great. I love him so much. Also, he's basically a dad figure and pokes fun at Michael about Alex in my Dancing in the Dark fic and I'm feeling so vindicated right now.

Rosa's earmuffs! She looked so adorable! As much as storywise her and Isobel is a bit of an odd choice, her and Lily work SO well together so all of their scenes are enjoyable to watch.

Poor Kyle! His family tree is a bit of a mess. I'm very curious if Eduardo was lying when he said he didn't have a nephew, or if his relation to Kyle is going to be a surprise to BOTH of them. I'm very excited to find out more about Deep sky! But also!! If Heath turns out to be related to Eduardo like I though as his connection to everything that would be HILARIOUS because then Kyle would get a new cousin too, and one who has also slept with Liz! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I am LOVING all the genius Michael we're getting this season and finally seeing him using his powers more casually (and around Alex) and also using that big brain of his! (Now use it to communicate with Alex!) Also Jones is, regrettably, VERY hot. But also, sir? That dog does NOT need to be exposed to your violence. He's just a sweet little boi. Let him stay in the car!

Michael using his brain to stumble on a "super secret" military base that has to do with aliens is just...so on brand for him 🤣 I'm very excited to see what we get next week too!

That Alex and Liz scene was SO good and I hope we get more of that dynamic moving forward! But whoooo boy do they both need Kyle around to be their moral compass! 🤣

My 3x03 experience was not quite as high-flying as yours, but 3x02 was my high point and this episode isn't quite there, but pretty darn close! So excited to see what we get next week!

#my sweet not so anonymous friends #roswell nm #anti maria delcua #season 3 spoilers #such a good episode overall #still a little confused with some part of the plot #but i had a great time watching the episode

10 notes · View notes

98prilla · 4 years

Text

Deathworlder Down

Set in @delimeful 's wonderful WIBAR AU. Virgil gets sick, and the others struggle to help him, not only with his illness, but the clear underlying emotional issues.

AO3

...

It was quiet, on the Mindscape.

Logan was reading, absently twirling his fingers and hands as he studied, recording information, though he was certain most of it would prove false, as it was the little that was reported about humans. Most were comparable to ghost stories or urban legends, but there were a few that seemed more credible, that he hoped would give some more insight into humans in general.

Roman was off working out somewhere, sparring, he insisted it was just to keep sharp, but they all knew it was because he didn’t trust the human on board not to go feral and kill them any second, despite Virgil’s rather shy and withdrawn personality. Still, at least he was getting his aggression out elsewhere, and not by actually fighting or snarking at the true object of his emotions. He was doing better, still, Logan would give him that, but there was a long way to go.

He could hear Patton pitter pattering about in the kitchen, chirping and warbling to himself, making his lips twitch up into a smile. It had been far too quiet, without the little Ampen aboard, too much silence to drown in. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d grown accustomed to, hearing Patton hum and chirp and sing all day. Now it was also a relief, a steady reminder their friend was back home, safe and sound, and he frowned again, thinking of how close they had come to losing him for good. That they would have, had it not been for Virgil.

Speaking of…

“Patton?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen, the Ampen stopping his trilling as he set the kettle on the stove, giving him one of his warm, happy smiles, that seemed to actually light up the room.

“Yeah, Lo? Everything ok?” Patton’s antennae twitched slightly, and he focused back on the present.

“Yes, I believe so, I was simply wondering if you’d seen Virgil today. He is usually awake by now. I was hoping to discuss some… perhaps sensitive topics, that I picked up on during our vidi.”

It was true. He hadn’t seen much, with how fast it had all turned, and spiraled out of hand, and though Virgil and him had been having question and answer sessions, the ones he really wanted to ask seemed more… personal. So, he’d kept them to himself, and simply continued his observations, and studied up on the information available to him.

And what he’d noticed was… concerning, to say the least. He was certain the human wasn’t sleeping enough. Unlike most species, humans could run on limited sleep for an extended period of time, but he was slowly becoming aware that just because humans had the capability to do something, didn’t mean it was natural or good for them to do it. They could survive grievous injuries that would have killed any other species, but it came at great physical and mental cost. They could survive intense radiation, but they would sicken slowly and die. They could imbibe substances that a single sip would be deadly to himself, but even in small amounts, it inhibited a human’s survival instincts and weakened them.

So just because Virgil was running on, at his best guess, four to five hours of sleep a day, didn’t mean that was anywhere near the healthy range of a human’s normal requirements. He’d noticed some of the side effects so commonly, he’d thought they simply were how humans were, until the Vidi gave him glimpses at others, who lacked the bags under their eyes, the deep bruising, that Virgil always had. Virgil was often unsteady on his feet, “light headed” he called it, he often stared out into space for minutes at a time, without registering anything that was said or happening around him, he ran into things, doorframes, corners of furniture, he stumbled and often had to lean against something to regain his balance.

The other issue was his diet. Logan was absolutely certain that Virgil was not eating nor drinking enough. With his permission, he’d taken his heart rate, he’d calculated how many calories his body must burn, at the least, throughout a day. With no physical activity, no exertion, the very base level of sleep, Virgil was missing at least hundreds, if not nearly a thousand, necessary calories, and that was if he were in a relaxed state, which he never was. The human was endlessly jumpy and frightened and twitchy, and he had admitted that his heart rate was much higher than it should be, most of the time, due to his constant state of high alert. But despite this, he ate nearly the least at meals, always pushing food around his place, making excuses to take small portions, at least half the time Logan was certain he hadn’t eaten at all until he was forced to at their daily dinner together, and only then because he didn’t want to upset Patton. Based on his limited understanding, Virgil was immensely underweight and incredibly sleep deprived, both dangerously unhealthy states for humans.

“oh! I peeked in on him a bit ago. He'd just woke up, said he was going to take a shower. I’m kinda surprised he isn’t out here yet.” Patton frowned, his feathers fluffing in distress.

“I see. I'll go check on him, Patton. Save me a cup?” He smiles as Patton’s face lights up again, only half surprised as Patton jumps at him, hugging him. He carefully supports the Ampen, holding him close, allowing his head to rest against Patton's small, fluffy shoulder.

“Thanks, Lo. For looking out for him.” Patton mumbled, as Logan let him go, setting him back down on the counter.

“Of course, Patton. It’s the least I can do. He deserves to not only be safe, but feel safe. I am happy to help make that happen.” Patton's feathers pulsed his trademark light blue, a sign of happiness, that made Logan’s hands flutter, trying to record the warmth in his chest, as he turns away.

…

He woke up with a groan, pushing the cupboard door open, jumping as his door opened, hitting his head against the back of the cupboard at the sudden movement, breath speeding wildly, before he registered Patton’s head poking in, concerned eyes on him.

“Hey, kiddo. Just checking in. Everything ok?” He sighed, but pushed back his exhaustion, summoning a small smile, making it as reassuring and genuine as possible, not difficult, faced with a small ball of fluff.

“I’m alright, Pat. Just catching up on some zee’s. Was gonna go shower.” Patton nodded, hopping into his arms for a quick snuggle, before chirping a happy goodbye and vanishing out the door.

He slumped back against the pylon behind him with another groan, rubbing his hands across his face, then up into his hair, wincing as he felt his hair stick straight up, matted with sweat. He’d stayed in bed far later than usual, but he hadn’t slept more. The night had been plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis, filling him with terror so deep he couldn’t even scream, could merely panic until he passed out once more, tossing and turning restlessly.

He felt shivery, cold, and his head spun just a bit as he stood, his stomach turning at the motion, vertigo rocking him as he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get his bearings.

“fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, taking a few deep breaths in and out, before making his way to the door, listening for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear Roman anywhere nearby, he didn’t think he could handle the Crav’n in his current state.

Which was normal and healthy and perfectly fine. He had to be fine.

He made it to the bathroom with minimal stumbling, his vision barely swimming in and out, as he stripped, and turned on the water, hot enough it would probably burn any other members of their little band, but he just sighed in relief as he stepped in, letting the water run over him, soothe the aches building in his muscles. He let out a sigh, halfheartedly scrubbing at his hair, zoning out as he watched the steam.

As he watched, it seemed to form a shape, to swirl into a nebulous form, and his breathing stuttered, heart stopping, as he stared in fear at the suited figure, one of his captors, a needle stabbing down towards him, and he flinched back, the world blurring and swirling and fading out around him, static roaring through his ears, his heart racing as static filled his vision as well. Distantly, he heard knocks, someone maybe calling his name, then he felt his legs give out, his head hit something hard, and the world went black.

…

“Virgil? Are you alright?” He heard a loud thump, a crash, and his eyes widened, knocking again. “Virgil? If you do not answer me, I am going to enter. Virgil!” Nothing. He threw open the door, breath catching, freezing in place at the sight.

Virgil was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unconscious. His breathing seemed somewhat labored and shallow, and he could hear the slight wheeze to it from the doorway. What caught his eye first were the endless collection of scars, all across his body, covering nearly every inch of his skin, and it turned his stomach, it made him sick, the level of trauma and abuse Virgil must have endured. He’d known it wasn’t good, known he’d been a lab rat, an experiment, a being to harvest then sell off the parts once he was drained dry, but knowing it and seeing the scars, the marks of old burns from the stun batons, was something else entirely. And nothing Virgil had said had indicated the violence against him to be to this extent. He felt another surge of appreciation, for Virgil having protected Patton.

The second thing, that finally forced him into motion, was the small pool of red forming around the human’s head, likely where the back of his skull had impacted with the floor. Quickly, he grabbed a towel from off the rack, and rolled Virgil onto his side, wiping away the blood from his neck and hair, to see where to apply the pressure. He breathed a sigh of relief as he located the wound, surprisingly small, given the amount of blood loss, and he was confident a few moments of pressure would easily stop it.

“ROMAN!” He shouted with all his might, voice shaking and unsteady, hearing the crashing footsteps of the Crav’n immediately, the being sliding into the doorway mere moments later, scales raised to their extremes, teeth bared, ready to fight, no doubt hoping for an excuse to fight the human.

“Logan? What’s-“ Patton darts in around Roman’s legs, eyes widening as he instantly is at Virgil’s side, trembling, eyes wide as saucers.

“I need help. Roman, he’s heavy, I need-“

“Ok. Ok, teach, I got you. Let’s get him dressed, then I’ll move him to the couch. What’s… what happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I knocked and heard a crash, when I entered, he was like this. I suspect it has something to do with his malnutrition and sleep deprivation.” He answered, focusing on carefully pulling Virgil’s hoodie over his head, hands clenching sharply as one brushes his forehead. “he’s burning up.”

“That’s what happens when he’s… when he’s sick. Humans get all hot and shivery and sometimes their stomach hurts and they can’t eat. But that only happened on the… on the ship. When… when it was really bad.” His voice wavered, feathers flattening.

“I would suspect that he has been feeling ill for a couple of days now, if it’s grown severe enough to make him pass out. His normal temperature is around 98.6 to 99, I would estimate his to be closer to one hundred and three. Has he seemed off to you, Patton?”

“He’s spent less time with me. Less time out of his room. I thought he just needed some space, but… but he was trying to hide he was sick, wasn’t he?”

“Why would he do that? Did he think we’d just abandon him like some deathworlder would an injured comrade?” Roman snorted disdainfully, helping pull pants onto the human, though Patton could see the concern hiding behind his outrage.

“Contrarily, he probably didn’t want to be a burden. To use up more of our resources and time. He constantly sees himself as lesser, as the least important of the group, therefore the one who should take up the least space, least time, least amount of food. Surely, you’ve noticed, Roman.”

“I…hadn’t. I’ll take him now, Pat.” He mumbled softly, gently shooing him back as he scooped Virgil into his arms, surprised at how light the human was, his head lolling limply against his chest, his cheeks flushed, while the rest of his face was even paler than usual. He could feel the frantically rapid beat of his heart, his eyes flicking uneasily under their lids, and his scales flattened in concern. As much as he didn’t trust the human, he didn’t want to see him hurting, either. And if what Logan said was true, Virgil had not only been hurting, but hurting himself, out of, what? Loyalty? Worry? He just couldn’t get a handle on him.

Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him, or to give him a chance. But there was something in seeing him so vulnerable, without the usual piercing stare and silent slink, that made him soften a bit, made him remember that despite being one of the most fearsome creatures in the universe, that Virgil was essentially a child, by human standards. He was so thin, too. He could count his bones, under that hoodie. No wonder he was always cold, he had no layer of fat on his bones.

And those scars…

Well. It was enough to almost make him rethink his view on Virgil, at least, as he laid him down on the couch in the common area, Patton immediately taking a seat by his head, brushing his hands soothingly through Virgil’s hair, as the human shook, muttering something in his sleep that was undecipherable, though the tone of fear was impossible to miss, as his hand clenched against the fabric.

“We need to break his fever. Blankets, Roman? I’ll get you a washcloth and water for his forehead, Patton. If he wakes, he is likely to be disoriented or possibly even hallucinate, because of the fever. However, I have no doubt he will calm immensely upon registering your presence. You are… his lifeline, Patton.” Patton nodded, continuing to focus on Virgil, doing the coo chirp pattern used to soothe babies, one of the first things Virgil had mimicked back to him, back on that awful ship.

“He’ll… he’ll be ok, right? He just needs some sleep and he’ll be okay?” His voice trembled, and Logan’s hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting as he looked for the right words to say.

“I don’t know. There’s so little information, Patton, I keep looking and there’s just… not enough, to help him, in any meaningful way. There’s no way of knowing if this is just a ‘flu’ or if it is something more severe. I know his heart rate is high and his breathing rasping, but I don’t know if that’s the result of the illness or simply stress, I would give him medicine, but I don’t know what he can have, what would be helpful, and I don’t know what to do if it’s something we aren’t equipped to handle!” He exploded, pacing the floor somewhat frantically, hands flailing wildly, wincing as one smacked the wall. “I don’t know what to do, but wait.” He said, softer, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his hand, looking up as Roman came to stand before him, gently patting one of his arms.

“It’s ok, Lo. No one expects you to have all the answers. We know you’ll do your best. You always do.” Logan nodded, pulling himself together somewhat, striding off to the kitchen, Roman heading down the hall to raid the extra blankets from the closets.

“you’ll be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Patton murmured, nuzzling against Virgil’s cheek, giggling as Virgil mumbles again, leaning into his touch, hand unclenching, face relaxing minutely. When Logan came back, he huffed fondly, Patton curled up against Virgil’s shoulder, just a ball of puffed up blue feathers, pulsing soothingly.

#wibar #wibar au #sickfic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic roman #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #virgil angst #like loads of it #eventual happy ending #flashbacks #anxiety attacks #past trauma #past abuse #minor blood

242 notes · View notes