#which is why we also have a hard rule about simply ignoring or blocking when we're the ones in a position of privilege

[disabledunitypunk]

I wanna talk about a real problem in marginalized communities, but especially the disabled community.

The conflation of "privilege" with "oppression".

Here's two examples that I'm directly pulling from experience.

I am not intellectually disabled. I have fluctuating cognitive disabilities, but I have privilege over people with intellectual disabilities.

I also have significantly disabling chronic illness to the point where at times I have not been able to engage with hobbies due to being too sick. Disabled people who are less sick and more able to pursue activities they enjoy have privilege over me.

It's something that's not neat and simple, either. An intellectually disabled person who is able to engage with hobbies vs me? We would essentially both have privilege over each other on different axes. You can't then determine that one of us is ultimately generally more privileged than the other, because that's not how it works. Like if you have privilege x and they have privilege y, it isn't x-y=positive or negative privilege. You can't "solve" that equation because x and y aren't variables that can be substituted for number values.

So, first taking the example of hobbies - a recent controversial post we made that invited harassment. People were quick to tell us what our own experience was and that we weren't experiencing ableism - because they had had the privilege of never experiencing it. That was lateral ableism, and not okay.

Note: There may be people who DIDN'T have that privilege who were also saying the same - though everyone I saw talking about this specifically mentioned their ability to do hobbies, and that was who the main part of my response was directed at. However, I even specifically responded briefly to any people who were doing that - much more gently - to basically say that if they were being assimilationist out of fear that they didn't have to be, and to remind them that they aren't bad if they can't have hobbies.

On the other hand, way back when I first started this blog, I talked about reclaiming the r slur as someone who had significant trauma from being called it as a kid. I talked about how the reason I was called it was specifically because of my social issues due to my developmental disorders while being a gifted kid.

To make it clear - I was called the r slur for not understanding social cues and rules as a "smart" kid, because that's one of the things it meant to them. They weren't insulting my intellectual intelligence, but rather my social ability - at most, you could argue they were insulting my social intelligence - which having a low amount of WAS actually a feature of my disabilities.

I also spoke about how I wasn't reclaiming it to continue treating it as a bad thing, to insult even just myself, but rather to say "so what if I am? that's not bad". Y'know, the whole point of reclaiming.

I was told what my own experience was and that I was experiencing misdirected ableism because they were actually insulting traits I didn't have and therefore they were actually hurting intellectually disabled people but not me. Not because they had the privilege not to experience what I did - but because me having privilege was treated as the right to tell me I had never experienced the ableism they had.

They were treated not just as the experts on ableism against intellectual disabilities - which they are, of course - but also the experts on ableism against people who specifically DON'T have intellectual disabilities when it takes the same or similar forms as ableism against intellectual disabilities.

We all know that bigots don't wait to find out your correct identity before attacking you. We all know that there are identities commonly mistaken for others, that can set you up for repeated abuse over an identity you don't have. But what we refuse to acknowledge is that there are types of bigotry that can manifest identically in some ways for two different identities - and that anyone who experiences that bigotry is an expert on it and deserves to have a place in the conversation about it.

Someone with intellectual disabilities fundamentally cannot know that people without intellectual disabilities DON'T face the same kind of ableism on the basis of other disabilities that person DOES have because they have not ever lived that experience, just as, say, I couldn't say that an intellectually disabled person never faces specific kinds of ableism I face due to being a wheelchair user, because I am not intellectually disabled.

What I can say: "I face these types of ableism because of these disabilities and this is how they manifest."

What I can't say, because it is erasure and lateral ableism no matter my relative privilege: "You don't face this type of ableism for [disability I don't have] because it's exclusive to [disability I have] and any ableism that manifests that way is actually an attack on me."

Fundamentally, you cannot say that someone with a different disability DOESN'T face a specific type of ableism because you are not an authority on the experience of that disability. You are an expert on the experience of your disability. You cannot claim exclusive experiences because to do so, you would have to experience the disabilities you don't have while also not experiencing the ones you do. You would have to verify experiences that you simply don't have - in multiple places and contexts and presentations and as multiple people.

Oh wait, there's a simpler way to do that.

Listen to people about their experiences of their own disabilities and the ableism they face for it.

(Plaintext: Listen to people about their experiences of their own disabilities and the ableism they face for it.)

It's not ableist to say "no, you aren't the only disability that faces this ableism" or "no, it isn't targeted at you when it's aimed at me" or "actually, bigots also use [slur] to mean [definition specifically attacking my disability]". It is however ableist to tell people that because they have an axis of privilege over you, they can't talk about their own oppression on an entirely different axis because you've decided that experiencing similar oppression means you're the only person who experiences said oppression.

Or to put it more simply: Experiencing a type of ableism does NOT give you the right to speak over others when they say they experience it too for different reasons. Having something bad happen to you as a group does not give you proof that you're the ONLY group it happens to.

"X is caused by y, therefore x is ONLY caused by y" is quite literally a logical fallacy. It's called fallacy of the single cause (at least it's a nice obvious name, honestly).

This is the same discourse as cripplepunk. In fact, it's the primary motivator behind most slur discourse, and the reason why I'd honestly rather have blanket permission issued within oppressed groups I'm in* for everyone to reclaim in good faith** any slur that affects that group.

**What does "reclaim in good faith" mean? It means reclaiming only for self-usage, and only for self-usage specifically in a positive way - so no "ugh, I'm such a useless cripple", for example. True reclamation does require use of it against you/your disability in the first place, however, part of not being a cop about it is assuming that anyone who uses it in a positive sense for self-labeling has in fact experienced that. In short, it involves believing people about the oppression they explicitly say or imply through their reclamation that they've experienced.

*Note: I am specifically NOT a person of color or a member of an oppressed ethnoreligion/ethnicity, and recognize that dynamics of racial and ethnic oppression may be unique in some ways. However in disabled, queer, plural, alterhuman, and other marginalized spaces I do occupy, these are my feelings.

It is lateral ableism to tell another disabled person that they haven't experienced a type of ableism or didn't experience it due to their ACTUAL disability and therefore have no right to reclaim what was used to hurt them.

It is ableism to say "the bullet meant to shoot you, that hit you, was designed in part to hurt me, and therefore any time someone is shot with it, it was actually an attack on me. Hand over the bullet and never keep it or use it as you please again or you're basically shooting me with a different bullet." (For those that struggle with metaphors, the bullets are ableism.)

It's ducks saying that deer have no right to reclaim shotgun shells. Yes, slugs are more common than buckshot, but there's literally a type of the same exact kind of ammo designed for use on the deer too. In just the same way, some slurs and other forms of ableism are more typically used against one group but even have a (sometimes identical) variant specifically designed for use against other groups. "Mental cripple" and "retard" for sociodevelopmental disabilities are prime examples of this.

This is a wider problem in marginalized communities. "If you have any privilege at all, ever, you need to sit down and shut up about your own experiences. Only our least privileged members are the experts on any of our experiences. They make the rules about which of your own experiences you're allowed to talk about and what you're allowed to say about them." What's important to note, is that this is coming as much from the members with said privilege as the ones without.

And yes, this is an EXTREMELY insular community issue, but it's not mutually exclusive to the fact that large portions of the community DON'T listen to the less privileged ones about their own experiences! Just like the hobbies example (which, I know people may dismiss or cry 'false equivalence', but I want to again note that it primarily affects bedbound people who are too sick to do things they enjoy, and therefore less privileged by any metric).

I specifically referenced that example because it's exactly more privileged members speaking over less privileged members about the less privileged members' OWN experiences.

In fact, I'd say it's in fact a RESPONSE to that kind of being spoken over. It's an extreme pendulum swing in the other direction - "you need to shut up and LISTEN to us about our experiences". Which, if it stopped there, would be perfect! It's the part that follows it - "therefore, if we experience something, we're the ONLY people who are allowed to talk about it and the only people who even experience it".

I've seen time and time again, too, that even if you conclusively prove you experience something, the goalposts just get moved.

"Well, you experience it but not systemically."

"Okay, but you experienced it less."

"It didn't hurt you as much because it was meant to hurt me instead."

"Well, you're probably reclaiming it as an insult." (despite no proof of such, or even proof to the contrary)

"Well, if you experienced it systemically and it did hurt you and you experienced it just as much, it's actually because of [other identity that we begrudgingly acknowledge is affected] and not [identity that you say actually caused you to experience it] and it therefore isn't even [same type of bigotry] but [completely different type] instead."

"Well, even if you experienced it systemically as much as I did, it still hurts me more because it's about my identity and not yours, even though you were the one literally being attacked with it."

And if all that fails it's "no, that's not why you experienced it" or "no, you didn't experience that".

All examples I touched on earlier in this post, but still important to talk about specifically.

The person being hurt by a type of ableism, including slurs, is the person who they are being used against, period. It doesn't matter if they have "the right" disability. It doesn't matter what group the slurs or ableism is primarily used against. The bigots are TRYING to hurt the person they are specifically using the bigotry against, and that person is the one who ends up hurt by it. Full stop, no argument.

And if someone is hurt by a word, especially repeatedly, they have a right to reclaim it. Period.

At the end of the day, does this matter all that much? It's just community microaggressions, right?

Here's my feelings on it: I'm never going to let petty infighting get in the way of fighting for total disabled liberation. Just because some individuals are guilty of lateral ableism doesn't mean I won't fight for a world in which they face no ableism. It would be ableist of me to leave them behind over something like this. Not to mention, there's no need for anyone to be considered an authority on ableism in a world where there is none.

That being said, it is still a minor hurdle on the way to disabled liberation. If we police our own community and shut down discussions of ableism, how can we effectively fight for our right to not be policed or shut down by abled people? We're demonstrating that it's acceptable behavior.

You can argue all you want that abled people should recognize that it's different and they don't have a voice in the conversation - but what about those who are explicitly telling abled people that it's okay to shut down THESE disabled people talking about THEIR experiences because they're privileged invaders in the conversation and abled people should use their privilege over us to act as an even higher authority and stop us?

What about the conflicting messages of "abled people use your power over these disabled people to force them not to talk about the ableism they experience, but not these OTHER disabled people doing the same thing".

It's one thing to make a blanket statement to say "hey, if someone is actually attacking the validity of a disabled (or any marginalized) identity or talking over them about their own experiences, then shut that down". Saying a given marginalized identity doesn't exist or is inherently harmful is always bad. Talking over someone on their OWN experiences, when they are simply talking about things they've directly experienced, is always bad. I don't think it's the end of the world to say "use your privilege to shut down ableism" to abled people.

The problem is telling abled people that someone TALKING about their own legitimate experiences is bad and it's okay to shut it down. Abled people should not ever be given permission to do so - whether using their own judgment or just doing so on the word of disabled people.

Even besides that, though, it's still ableism, and lateral ableism is also a barrier in the way of total disabled liberation. It is an active threat to unity, to our ability to organize and demand change. We can fight to remove it from our communities while still focusing our energy primarily outward on fighting for liberation within the larger abled world.

Finally, it's an issue because it creates more hierarchies to solve existing ones. It says "instead of addressing the actual ableism, we're just going to flip it so you're the one experiencing it instead". It's like the so-called "feminists" that just want a matriarchy. It's not about creating a safer environment, it's about being the one to perpetrate the harm currently being done to you.

So, in cases where neither group has any real systemic power over each other, it doesn't even do that - it simply creates an environment where the original harm continues to be perpetuated while another new harm occurs. It devolves into a petty slap fight, distracting from actual liberation while also causing both parties to be hurt. That's not acceptable praxis. It's not praxis at all.

Even with the harm being small in scale, it's still not okay. Two injustices don't make a justice, just as two wrongs don't make a right.

This is very much something we need to address - in disabled spaces being my focus here - but also in queer, plural, alterhuman, and other marginalized spaces. And all of stems from the idea that "privilege" is the same as having the power to oppress someone. It's the idea that if you have an axis of privilege over another person with the same overall marginalized identity as you, that you are equivalent to being nonmarginalized compared to them and therefore disagreeing with them in any way about your OWN marginalized experiences is bigotry.

Functionally, it's that you're a bigoted privileged invader of marginalized spaces if you dare to have an opinion on a shared type of oppression. And speaking as a transfemmasc person, mayyyyyybe we should actually kill that rhetoric forever.

[hells-ringleader]

💀RULES OF HELL 💀

✨️this blog is 18+ only cuz this fandom here is for adults only

🍎 NO godmodding! Respect each other's characters!

🌟I don't like mpreg, pedo shit, or anything proship so like gross illegal crap. Those would be my no nos

😇 respect my hcs as well NO MATTER WHAT

🎩don't be rude! Haters in my inbox are not welcome. If you are here to cause trouble. Leave now.

🐍do not dm mun UNLESS WE ARE GOOD GOOD MUTUALS I will not respond to random dms

🎉can't believe I must say this but, COMMUNICATION IS KEY. TELL ME IF A RP ISNT WORKING OUT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP IT. TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME AND I WONT FOLLOW OR INTERACT W YOU. SAME GOES FOR IF YOU DONT PLAN ON REPLYING TO ANYTHING I SEND YOU. TELL ME. I WILL STOP. I WILL GET IT AND NOT GET MY HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. DONT BE A JERK. TALK.

🎻please do me a favor and if you drop a rp let me know ahead of time. It hurts to just see people abandon rps I'm in with them. It makes me feel as if they hate me. It hurts. Please tell me in dms why you are doing it and do not just drop them without warning. I like to know what I did wrong so I can fix it for future threads. Always wanting to improve my skills as a rper.

🦆respect lgbtq here cuz mun is bi and ace and genderfluid any people against it leave now.

🎪I rp from these blogs out of enjoyment and as a extra hobby, I do have times when I'm not online cuz I do got a life so. I'm sorry if it's takes long to reply sometimes! I do my best! All I ask is you be patient with me! I do this for fun . Not as a career. I do not get paid.

👑also its sometimes hard to tell who's willing to reply back if I send something and who will just ignore me. Which. It happens a lot and. Upsets me. A lot . Makes me feel like shit. Don't make me feel that way maybe interact more w me and I'll be like oh this person likes my muse ill interact more..I'm just cautious..yknow?

🔥also.. I try to read rules cuz I get unsure if people are even ok w my subject matter at times it gets dark and gory. It's why I prefer 18+ peeps.

🎶and no you may not follow me if you just reblog my rp memes and fanart I post. You need to interact if you follow me okay. No one likes people like that. Don't I know it.

😈if you have a issue with me simply block me I will not take any more drama in my bubble

👼 I'm ace so I may feel uncomfortable with too adult of romance rps (must I say it) so romance is ok but boundaries are important. Edit: I'm better w romance and sexual ones even. But I just may not be good at it.

⭐️I will tag triggers but you must tell me which ones

❤️I don't like pe*os, proshi*pers (the ones who are pushy about it), or people who hurt animals . Please leave if you are any of the sort .

🐑just to make it clear I dont do rps in dms . I rp in threads, asks or posts. Ask around if you do not know what that means.

🦄I follow back from my main. You do not have to follow my main back but I would like it if you followed this blog at least back

🦚please read about my character on wiki if you wish to know them. I will not be going into detail about every one but I will post headcanons sometimes

🌹 Rp meme tag: rp memes: hellish memes (look this tag up to see my list of rp memes and use one! You can even use anon! Send one in go for it! Also these rp memes NEVER expire just make sure to specify what meme you were using)

🍷events will be tagged accordingly as well

❤️oh and I'm a multishipper so I will ship lilith and ocs even canon characters. Its possible. I'm doing it.

🎡most rps won't be canon to the blog. Those that are will be tagged accordingly. Events that are canon are usually interactions w other blogs, magic anons, and any comments I make to other canon characters. Non story tag will be #non story: another story written.

-mun Steph 🎠

Events: coming soon

Like for a starter:

[solomon-the-wizard]

🥽Rules of the Devildom: 💥

✨️don't be rude! Haters in my inbox are not welcome. If you are here to cause trouble. Leave now.

🪄I don't like mpreg, pedo shit, or anything proship so like gross illegal crap. Those would be my no nos

🔮this blog is 16+ only. 18+ if we get spicy which will be rare (mun is ace)

☀️please do me a favor and if you drop a rp let me know ahead of time. It hurts to just see people abandon rps I'm in with them. It makes me feel as if they hate me. It hurts. Please tell me in dms why you are doing it and do not just drop them without warning. I like to know what I did wrong so I can fix it for future threads. Always wanting to improve my skills as a rper

🌙I rp from these blogs out of enjoyment and as a extra hobby, I do have times when I'm not online cuz I do got a life so. I'm sorry if it's takes long to reply sometimes! I do my best! All I ask is you be patient with me! I do this for fun . Not as a career. I do not get paid.

⭐️can't believe I must say this but, COMMUNICATION IS KEY. TELL ME IF A RP ISNT WORKING OUT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP IT. TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME AND I WONT FOLLOW OR INTERACT W YOU. SAME GOES FOR IF YOU DONT PLAN ON REPLYING TO ANYTHING I SEND YOU. TELL ME. I WILL STOP. I WILL GET IT AND NOT GET MY HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. DONT BE A JERK. TALK.

🧙‍♂️I follow back from my main. You do not have to follow my main back but I would like it if you followed this blog at least back

🤴just to make it clear I dont do rps in dms . I rp in threads, asks or posts. Ask around if you do not know what that means.

🦋respect lgbtq here cuz mun is bi and ace and genderfluid any people against it leave now.

🐺also.. I try to read rules cuz I get unsure if people are even ok w my subject matter at times it gets dark and gory. It's why I prefer 18+ peeps. But I'm lenient

🌌if you have a issue with me simply block me I will not take any more drama in my bubble

⏳️and no you may not follow me if you just reblog my rp memes and fanart I post. You need to interact if you follow me okay. No one likes people like that. Don't I know it.

🧿also its sometimes hard to tell who's willing to reply back if I send something and who will just ignore me. Which. It happens a lot and. Upsets me. A lot . Makes me feel like shit. Don't make me feel that way maybe interact more w me and I'll be like oh this person likes my muse ill interact more..I'm just cautious..yknow?

⚗️I will tag triggers but you must tell me which ones

🧪events will be tagged accordingly as well

📚NO godmodding! Respect each other's characters!

👓oh and I'm a multishipper so I'm not picky w ships. Just no illegal ones pls

👑please read about my character on wiki if you wish to know them. I will not be going into detail about every one but I will post headcanons sometimes

[heavenly--knight]

🕊🗡 RULES OF HEAVEN 🛡 🕊

🕊my Michael is completely canon divergent til we get him in the show

🪶I'll post headcanons as they come to me

🐑he can be shipped w multiple people he's not canon lol

🔆this blog is 18+ only cuz this fandom here is for adults only

🦢NO godmodding! Respect each other's characters!

🐚I don't like mpreg, pedo shit, or anything proship so like gross illegal crap. Those would be my no nos

⚖️also.. I try to read rules cuz I get unsure if people are even ok w my subject matter at times it gets dark and gory. It's why I prefer 18+ peeps.

🗡also its sometimes hard to tell who's willing to reply back if I send something and who will just ignore me. Which. It happens a lot and. Upsets me. A lot . Makes me feel like shit. Don't make me feel that way maybe interact more w me and I'll be like oh this person likes my muse ill interact more..I'm just cautious..yknow?

💫please do me a favor and if you drop a rp let me know ahead of time. It hurts to just see people abandon rps I'm in with them. It makes me feel as if they hate me. It hurts. Please tell me in dms why you are doing it and do not just drop them without warning. I like to know what I did wrong so I can fix it for future threads. Always wanting to improve my skills as a rper.

😇can't believe I must say this but, COMMUNICATION IS KEY. TELL ME IF A RP ISNT WORKING OUT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP IT. TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME AND I WONT FOLLOW OR INTERACT W YOU. SAME GOES FOR IF YOU DONT PLAN ON REPLYING TO ANYTHING I SEND YOU. TELL ME. I WILL STOP. I WILL GET IT AND NOT GET MY HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. DONT BE A JERK. TALK.

⌛️respect lgbtq here cuz mun is bi and ace and genderfluid any people against it leave now.

⭐️ I rp from these blogs out of enjoyment and as a extra hobby, I do have times when I'm not online cuz I do got a life so. I'm sorry if it's takes long to reply sometimes! I do my best! All I ask is you be patient with me! I do this for fun . Not as a career. I do not get paid.

🛡 I'm ace so I may feel uncomfortable with too adult of romance rps (must I say it) so romance is ok but boundaries are important. Edit: I'm better w romance and sexual ones even. But I just may not be good at it.

👼 if you have a issue with me simply block me I will not take any more drama in my bubble

✝️respect my hcs as well NO MATTER WHAT

✨️I don't like pe*os, proshi*pers (the ones who are pushy about it), or people who hurt animals . Please leave if you are any of the sort .

☁ and no you may not follow me if you just reblog my rp memes and fanart I post. You need to interact if you follow me okay. No one likes people like that. Don't I know it.

⚡️just to make it clear I dont do rps in dms . I rp in threads, asks or posts. Ask around if you do not know what that means.

☀️I will tag triggers but you must tell me which ones

🎼I follow back from my main. You do not have to follow my main back but I would like it if you followed this blog at least back

⚜️-Steph

🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆

Blogs I need tagged:

Ladiesofhell

Hellcab

E-mp-error

Lets-break-hearts

Infernal-lightning

Kttybot

And all blogs affiliated w them

[myimaginarywonderland]

Emotional, personal rant incoming dealing with sensitive topics like crashes so if you can't read about that please don't read any further!

But it is just getting hard for me to enjoy motorsport without some sort of weird anxiety feeling most weekends. Well, when I am talking about motorsport I mean FIA ones.

And sadly it's not just F1 but it's FE too.

The lack luster safety procedures have just been accepted.

We just don't talk about how cars drove under a crane which less than 10 years ago was basically the reason why we lost Jules. We simply don't admit how fucking dangerous it was that fans where just able to walk under a lifted F1 car that stood in the middle of the public.

We simply moved past the fact that there not only was a bomb attack next to an F1 track but also that there in fact was one just after the FE race.

We simply shrugged off the horrible delayed reaction to bring out yellow or red flags,hekk even deploy the safety car.

We have just come to terms with the fact that the FIA broke a rule last year that not only decided a championship but also was completely dangerous as it put engines and drivers in a stressful situation where no one knew what was going on.

We never really talked about the fact that during the race the helicopter once flew so low that a driver had to complain on the radio because he thought his race pace was affected by the winds.

We just mention the horrible attacks on fans that have been coming out this year.

We justify throwing flares on a track while the drivers are going at 250+ km/h.

We embrace the decision to not red flag a race when in fact the drivers are asking for it to be red flagged because they didn't think the conditions where save for them to go out.

We accept that team personal are being pushed to their absolute limit.

We understand somehow that it's okay to punish one driver but not the other for the same thing once again creating horrible inconstiances in how penalties are applied.

We just acknowledge that some drivers get away race after race with blocking or impending others.

We brush off the fact that it took minutes to get another car off the car it was crushing while the driver could have potentially been inside there with a concussion.

We just deal with drivers putting themself through excruciating pain because nothing is being done to the point where doctors say that if this continues in a few years it could have serious affect on their physical health.

We have to watch as again and again, drivers, fans and team personals health and safety is brushed aside, ignored and straight up endangered.

Every race weekend I can turn on an FIA lead motorsport serie and I know that after the race there will be at least 2 instances which are complete safety hazards.

It's terrifying and frankly I think we don't talk about it enough.

The FIA has become so reckless in their regards for human life because their sole goal is to make F1 an entertainment sport like WWE. F1 isn't an entertainment or scripted sport.

They just deal with things like there aren't actual human lives on the line.

Every race, especially in F1 and espeically with next years calendar looming in the back of my mind, I watch I just wait for the worst to happen. Every race I expect to hold my breath, to type on angry post, knowing that it will only stop once we have had another accident that potentially has to be even worse than Romain because they won't learn otherwise.

It sounds maybe silly and I can admit that at least for now I feel safe but with all the exhaustion next year, I know that I will not watch a race feeling completely relaxed.

I know that next year I will be turning in and just hoping to god that we don't lose another drive in an avoidable accident like Jules or in something horrific like we last Anthoine.

It's a thought that just sinks in sometimes that we lost so many young talents but it know manifests itself in the form of "They know they were taking a risk. But are we really taking a risk now or is the FIA just tempting faith to do it's inevitable job?"

How many races, how many crashed will it take, how many people might get injured, before we finally have change?

Which driver might we potentially have to lose, which mechanics might be eaten up by guilt, until there's a stop?

[leviathan-of-devildom]

🐠Rules of the Devildom: 🐍

🐡this blog is 16+ only. 18+ if we get spicy which will be rare (mun is ace)

🦈NO godmodding! Respect each other's characters!

🐙oh and I'm a multishipper so I'm not picky w ships. Just no illegal ones pls

🦀please read about my character on wiki if you wish to know them. I will not be going into detail about every one but I will post headcanons sometimes

🐟I will tag triggers but you must tell me which ones

🦞events will be tagged accordingly as well

🦐and no you may not follow me if you just reblog my rp memes and fanart I post. You need to interact if you follow me okay. No one likes people like that. Don't I know it.

🐳also.. I try to read rules cuz I get unsure if people are even ok w my subject matter at times it gets dark and gory. It's why I prefer 18+ peeps. But I'm lenient

🦭if you have a issue with me simply block me I will not take any more drama in my bubble

🐠also its sometimes hard to tell who's willing to reply back if I send something and who will just ignore me. Which. It happens a lot and. Upsets me. A lot . Makes me feel like shit. Don't make me feel that way maybe interact more w me and I'll be like oh this person likes my muse ill interact more..I'm just cautious..yknow?

🐚respect lgbtq here cuz mun is bi and ace and genderfluid any people against it leave now.

🐬I follow back from my main. You do not have to follow my main back but I would like it if you followed this blog at least back

🐋just to make it clear I dont do rps in dms . I rp in threads, asks or posts. Ask around if you do not know what that means.

🦑I rp from these blogs out of enjoyment and as a extra hobby, I do have times when I'm not online cuz I do got a life so. I'm sorry if it's takes long to reply sometimes! I do my best! All I ask is you be patient with me! I do this for fun . Not as a career. I do not get paid.

🐍can't believe I must say this but, COMMUNICATION IS KEY. TELL ME IF A RP ISNT WORKING OUT BEFORE YOU JUST DROP IT. TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME AND I WONT FOLLOW OR INTERACT W YOU. SAME GOES FOR IF YOU DONT PLAN ON REPLYING TO ANYTHING I SEND YOU. TELL ME. I WILL STOP. I WILL GET IT AND NOT GET MY HOPES UP FOR NOTHING. DONT BE A JERK. TALK.

🌊please do me a favor and if you drop a rp let me know ahead of time. It hurts to just see people abandon rps I'm in with them. It makes me feel as if they hate me. It hurts. Please tell me in dms why you are doing it and do not just drop them without warning. I like to know what I did wrong so I can fix it for future threads. Always wanting to improve my skills as a rper

💧don't be rude! Haters in my inbox are not welcome. If you are here to cause trouble. Leave now.

🐉I don't like mpreg, pedo shit, or anything proship so like gross illegal crap. Those would be my no nos

😈Rp meme tag: coming soon (look this tag up to see my list of rp memes and use one! You can even use anon! Send one in go for it! Also these rp memes NEVER expire just make sure to specify what meme you were using)😈

[artzee-bee]

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it. 

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

[plus-size-reader]

Perfect World

Gendry Waters x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2094 words

Warnings: Literally just fluff. I love this man so much, he’s like a teddy bear.

Summary: Having to keep your relationship with Gendry a secret because you're highborn and he isn't. 

—————————————————————————————————

Your mother would lose her mind if she could see you right now.

This was hardly the place for a lady.

The air was thick with smoke from the large fire of the forge and you knew that you would surely stink of it when you got home. Still, there was nothing in the world that could have kept you away.

The allure of this place, of him, was simply too strong.

You had met Gendry by chance one day, walking through the square but since that moment, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The entire situation was far too comical to slip your mind so easily.

He worked for a blacksmith, and by all accounts, shouldn’t have interested you in any way. Though, it was sort of hard to remain blind to his existence when he rescued you in the way he had.

You were walking the streets of Kings Landing as you had a million times, practically dancing about as you took in all the sights this place had to offer, all in ways that your mother would also find deplorable.

It wasn’t a place for a Lady.

...And while you would have usually assured her differently, telling her it was plenty ladylike, she seemed to have a point on that particular day.

You had gotten so caught up in the excitement of sneaking out and all the things the streets had to offer you that you hadn’t even noticed a block placed outside, directly in your path.

Right outside of Master Tobho Mott’s blacksmithing shop.

Your foot caught the block, and by all accounts, that should have been more than enough to send you tumbling to the ground.

Though, just as you should have hit the dirt, you found yourself stopped, held tightly by a man you’d never seen before. He had a rather tight grip on your arm, something he noticed as soon as you stood back up.

There was a black soot handprint left on your skin, further proof of what he’d done.

They could have taken his head for that alone, laying his grimy hands on a highborn lady like you, but you hardly seemed scandalised at his action. In fact, when you stood up, you had a smile on your face.

Like you were having the grandest time in the world.

It made quite the impression on both of you.

You sat there, somehow more intrigued by this place and this man than you had been by anything outside, for hours. You talked and laughed, and when he finally relaxed about the whole thing, Gendry found himself having fun too.

It was hard not to be with you around.

All his life, he’d had this idea about what high borns were supposed to be like, based on how they treated him. As a poor bastard, no one had a better idea of how people really were than he did, but you were different.  

For a high born, you weren’t as stuffy and vile as he assumed you’d be.

You had a clever wit, and didn’t seem to care much at all for the expected formalities that were expected of you. That was because you didn’t, of course, but you couldn’t rightfully admit that to him.

After all, just because you were having all the fun in the world out in the open, you weren’t dull.

If anyone else found out about what you were doing outside the castle walls, under the watchful eye of your mother and father, there would be hell to pay. Not to mention how they would react if they found out who you’d taken to spending time with.

Though, that was what gave what you were doing now such appeal.

In the weeks that followed that initial chance encounter you’d have with the bastard, Gendry Waters, you’d been sneaking out just to see him again.

It was hardly something you had any business doing, but that was part of the fun. All your life, everyone made it their personal responsibility to tell you who to be and what to do, down to who you could talk to or how you could act.

Gendry didn’t.

He wouldn’t have known where to start if he wanted to command you. Besides, getting to spend time in the dark, dingy backroom of the smithy had given you the perfect place to hide from your family.

No one would ever assume a classy young woman like yourself with royal blood would ever take to spending time in such a place.

“Are you out of your mind? The Master has only just left” Gendry tutted, his head snapping in the direction of the storefront, where Master Mott had just taken his leave not even a moment prior.

It was by far the closest you two had ever been to being found out here, but you didn't care about that.

All you cared about was seeing Gendry again today.

“The old man didn’t see me, relax” you hummed, a small smile on your face as you took in the way his brow furrowed as he looked at you. He was always so serious about things, something you didn’t understand.

Though, you never had.

In your life, you never had to worry about things falling on your shoulders, or having to take care of yourself. You didn’t understand life in the way he did, and frankly, you had no reason to want to.

Life was much more fun your way.

“Though, perhaps I should go say hello to him before he gets too far away-” you teased, making your way past him slowly, as if you were actually going to go blow the biggest secret you two had.

It wasn’t funny.

Gendry didn’t think it was funny at all.

Not that you would have known based on the way he grabbed hold of you as you neared him, his hands coming to rest on your waist in a desperate attempt to keep you still. You wouldn’t have done it, you both knew that, but the point was still there.

You didn’t understand how serious this was.

“That’s not funny” he mumbled, ignoring the fact that his hands, covered in ash and dust, were surely dirtying your dress. How you managed to keep this all a secret from your family, he wasn’t sure.

There was more than enough evidence of what you did when you snuck out left behind.

“It would be if you laughed” you countered, tilting your chin up enough to close the bit of space between your faces.

The shop was small as it was, full to the brim with dense air, heated by the forge, which had you close together to begin with but that wasn’t the real reason for the close contact. You both knew it, but didn’t bother to amend it.

It was going to get you into trouble if someone saw you, but there was no one around.

No one even knew you were here.

Which was what you’d been ensuring Gendry of every chance you got since you two had started growing closer, romantically.

Not that he was all together convinced, even now.

Unlike you, Gendry lived in the real world. He understood the consequences of what you were doing and that no matter how fond he was of you, there was no future in which the two of you could be together.

He was of no title, and had no castle for you to rule by his side. There was no way around the unfortunate truth, that a lady had no place in the arms of a blacksmithing bastard.

After all, you saw what he did to your dresses each time you came here. He wasn't designed to be around pristine, perfect things, of which you were.

It was for the best you stayed apart, but you just kept coming back.

It was almost as if every time he told you that you needed to go home and stay there, or that you had to stay away from this place because it was dangerous, because you would get hurt, you came around that much more.

You just didn’t like to be told what to do.

How you’d managed to live in that stuffy castle all these years, he wasn’t sure.

“You understand that you can’t keep coming here? Someone is going to find out, and who knows what they’ll think we’ve been up to” he muttered, repeating himself once more, his hand falling gingerly on your cheek. You knew perfectly well how he felt about you coming here, but it wasn’t like he was showing you the door.

He just wanted you to know that he knew what a risk this was.

“What have we been up to, blacksmith?” you grinned, separating the two of you just enough to show off the blacken imprint on your clothes and now, your skin.

The people were bound to draw their own conclusions when they saw you, in the state you were in, but that was why you were so cautious about this entire thing. You hadn’t gotten caught yet, and you weren’t planning on ever letting that happen.

The threat to him was too great, but that didn’t mean it was worth you never seeing him again.

Your moving away from him instantly made Gendry panic, because as much as he didn’t want your reputation tarnished, he was more concerned about your physical safety.

This place wasn’t designed for this, after all.

“Would you stay away from that? You’re going to get yourself hurt” he sighed, understanding exactly what you were doing after he reached for you again. Each step you took, each move you made, was designed to antagonize him.

You were playing a game.

Of course you were.

You knew perfectly well that Gendry wasn’t going to let you get hurt, and seeing as this entire place was quite dangerous for a lady like yourself, he had to keep you close to him to make sure that didn’t happen.

It was all part of your devious little place.

“You sneaky thing” he tutted, a small smile creeping onto his own lips as he found you once again pressed against his frame, both hands holding your forearms just tightly enough to keep you from stepping back.

This was bound to cause you both trouble in the long run, could even get him killed if it went too far along, but right now, you were here. You were right in front of him, as beautiful as ever in the fires glow, and he couldn’t rightfully shoo you out.

He was a man after all.

He would have had to have been mad to do something like that.

You started to say something, likely snide or teasing as you always did, but before you could even get a word out, Gendry put an end to it. You would have to go before too long, before anyone noticed you weren’t locked away in your study.

Gendry smelled of sulfur and metal, his breathing hard against you as you tried to focus on anything with his lips against your own.

The kiss you shared even took you by surprise, even if you had been practically begging him to do it since you arrived, and you jumped a bit. Thankfully, you couldn’t go anywhere due to his still keeping a hold on you.

It was nice, as far as first kisses went, not that you had anything to compare it to.

You weren’t exactly in a position to go about kissing and galavanting with every man in King's Landing, but in that moment, you were sure that didn't matter. It was surely a kiss to end all others, and you knew that was because of him.

Technically, he was little more than a bastard but in the weeks you’d been showing up here, content to just bother him as you had, that couldn't have been further from your mind.

“Now get out of here before you get burned or something” he ordered, though that would have been pretty difficult to manage, considering he still hadn’t let go of you, his hands now held to your waist.

In a perfect world, he never would have let go.

He never would have caught you in the street, or let his lips touch yours in what only could be described as the most beautiful torture.

He never would have done any of it, but Gendry knew better than anyone that this world you lived in was anything but perfect.

[stellocchia]

Okay, now that I have a bit of time it’s time to analize that disaster of a custody battle stream, also known as Tommy and Wilbur visiting Las Nevadas!

As always this is gonna be quite long so I’ll put everything under the cut and remember that I’ll only be talking about the characters. Also for the dialogues the colors are: Quackity, Tommy and Wilbur

One thing that I would like to point out before we get into it is that c!Tommy is pretty much spiraling throughout this stream (he dissociates and shows his suicidal tendencies more clearly) so it’s good to keep this in mind when analizing his actions and words. 

First of all here’s Wilbur’s pov of it: Wilbur's POV

And here’s Tommy’s: Tommy's POV

I’ll be using both for this.

One thing that is immediately interesting to notice is that, despite supposedly living with Phil we mostly see Wilbur around L’Manhole.

“Have you been sewing? Knitting? That can be a dangerous sport if done too quickly” (just wanted to point out the tailor!Tommy bit)

So first of all is the confirmation that the stone never had a use beyond keeping Tommy occupied back when Wilbur asked for it. The task of gathering the stone could also have been a test on Wilbur’s part to test Tommy’s obedience considering that it was a tedious and apparently sensless task that most people would not have taken on.

Afterwards we have an interesting little bit where Wilbur demonstrates that he is still extremely knowledgable when it comes to tnt, knowing which blocks are more resistent to it and even being able to deduce that the ufo was blown up from the inside (something he’ll lie about later). 

“Someone’s a little copycat. Hey tommy someone’s a little copycat~” (in reference to what happened to Purpled’s ufo. This could be interpreted as derogatory we’ll have to see if Wilbur appreciates someone imitating his work)

Quackity’s book is then introduced, though at first Wilbur is very vague about it’s contents before straight up lying about them (saying that it said: “My dearest friend Wilbur, I’ve really missed seeing you, come to project Nevadas your best friend Quackity”), here’s the actual contents of it:

It is possible that he didn’t mention the actual content to Tommy because he was afraid Tommy would have kept him from meeting Quackity if he knew that he seemingly agreed with Wilbur’s ideology, though this is just a theory. 

Another interesting thing is that Wilbur keeps referring to Ghostbur’s resurrection site as his “tombstone” despite Tommy having already told him last time that he didn’t get one. Perhaps this is a show of Wilbur’s own fear of being forgotten or of having been inconsequential to the bigger narrative (his continued search for the confirmation that he did have a big impact would seem to point to this).

“Will, I’m accustomed to people lying to me. Just tell me: will the book, whatever is in there, bring us more primes?” (this is an interesting way for Tommy to let Wilbur know that he knows he’s lying while still trying to keep the conversation more light herted)

On their way to Las Nevadas there is an interesting instance of Wilbur standing still near a creeper instead of trying to protect himself so that Tommy has to intervene (similar instances happen multiple times throughout the stream) which could be a portrayal of his self-destructive tendencies and kinda mirrors Tommy's behaviour in exile. 

“Every person we’ve spoken to aside from say, I don’t know, Jack Manifold. Every person aside from Jack Manifold has taken a bit of a disliking to me. Oh and Phil, Phil was lovely too, and you actually! Come to think of it the 3 people I care about most, Jack Manifold, you and Phil, have been the nicest to me”

There are a few things I wanna say here: first of all there is one manipulation tactic that consists of making yourself out to be the victim in a certain situation in order to gain pity, sympathy or evoke compassion in the other and that’s what Wilbur has been doing both in this stream and in the past when mentioning that people hate him despite every single person he met (aside from Tommy himself) actually being rather kind and accomodating. This does probably come from Wilbur’s own self-hatred and his view of himself as a villain but, once again, I would like to remind you that manipulation is still manipulation even if you believe in what you’re saying. 

The second point I wanted to talk about briefly was the line about only caring about the 3 people he mentioned. Aside from how truthful he is about all 3 of them (I’m sorry but I have a hard time believing that he cares deeply for Jack Manifold when he didn’t even used to remember who he was) he also later mentions that there are other people he would like to see, basically it’s like the L’Manburg situation: just because Wilbur says he doesn’t care about something it doesn’t mean that it’s true.

“They told me it was like a small little town where Big Q sells funny potions and liquids from his van” (so from Tommy’s understanding Las Nevadas was a mix between the drug van and og L’Manburg. I wonder if we’ll find out who gave him this idea)

Little note about Wilbur throwing Linda (Tommy’s prized shovel) away twice during this stream almost casually.

“Tommy stand back. Tommy stand back” (Wilbur interposing himself between Tommy and a situation that might be dangerous, I’ll talk about this a bit later but keep it in mind)

“I’ll tell you what: it’s nice to see you out of that stupid vice president shirt. You know I never thought you were fit for that vice president thing anyway, I think that this is- this is- what- what are you like the concierge of this area? Like the cleaner?” “This is so nice!” “I don’t know what to call it Wilbur all I know is that this is my place. This is mine. I own this place”

It is interesting to note that Wilbur apparently did not think too highly of Quackity, immediately assuming he must be and employee rather then having a leading position, he even expresses that he didn’t think Quackity was fit to even be vice president. It’s also interesting to point out that Tommy gets immediately uncomfortable with where the conversation is going and splits off from the two to explore while also being extra obnoxious in an attempt to split up the fight he knew to be coming (he is always rather perceptive), to which Quackity responds only with amusement (actually humouring Tommy), while Wilbur simply ignores it for the time being. 

“If I’d known there was a place I could align myself to as quickly as this I would have done it sooner” (could be both a search for community as well as him generally prefering being aligned to a country as he comments later on that he’s not a fan of anarchy by mentioning that him and Phil don’t see eye to eye on this)

This is when Wilbur brings up Quackity’s book for the second time mentioning that he assumed it was an invite to joing Quackity in Las Nevadas, which turns out it wasn’t. 

“So that’s the invitation to work alongside you I assume, I- I accept. I accept. I’d love to come in” “Big Q I also wanted... can I move into the big- the big penis?” “*laugh* No Tommy. Wilbur, Wilbur” “Yeah?” “No? No?” “That was... that was not an invitation I’m sorry Wilbur” *Wilbur checks the book again* “That’s not an invitation. Wilbur, Wilbur, my nation will not be subject to your... unpredictability, alright? Thank you so much for coming, thank you so much for visiting Wilbur but, uhm... I don’t need any- I don’t need any extra members right now” 

So taking this conversation a bit at a time: Quackity is the first person since Wilbur has come back (aside from Tommy, but Tommy’s opinion really doesn’t matter to Wilbur) who hasn’t tried to accomodate him. He set his own rules and stuck by them not willing to budge on it at all. Also it is interesting to note that Quackity so far doesn’t seem to be interested in letting Tommy join either, only changing his demeanour later after Tommy calls Wilbur out on his lying. This change of mind could both be tied to a crack he noticed in Tommy’s loyalty to Wilbur as well as done to spite Wilbur himself. Or both really. 

“[Las Nevadas] It’s like one of those visions you have after being in the mines for several hours” (Tommy mentioning having hallucinations once again)

“No... no, you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got it all wrong man. Okay okay, maybe, maybe I was unprdictable in the past” “But it’s really nice...” “But I’ve turned over a new leaf Quackity! I don’t lie anymore, I don’t- I don’t, you know, I don’t deceive, I know nothing about tnt anymore. I’ve forgotten everything I knew about tnt, it’s ridiculous I-” “*snicker* Ok- mmm, well... Will, well” “Is he lying Tommy?”

Also here we have a clearer example of Wilbur lying and deceiving right after asserting that he doesn’t do it anymore (he deceived Tommy on the book and lied about his knowledge on tnt) together with Tommy calling him out on it.

“This is the best place on the server! This is like heaven! Paradise!” “Quackity we can stay, right?” “You seem to like it a lot Tommy” 

Immediately afterwards there’s where Quackity seems to change his mind about letting Tommy stay while also ignoring Wilbur in the process. Again we really don’t have any definitive indication for the reason why he changes his mind, it could be because he saw how much Tommy liked it here as much as it could be to spite Wilbur. Any conclusion for either is pure speculation.

“Quackity look at me, look at me in the eyes. I. Am. Your. Servant. I am at your service. I have run countries, I’ve won elections, I’ve done everything that you will need in a leadership role, Quackity. Even not in leadership! I can- I can be, you know, assistent to president”

Another less known form of manipulation. Wilbur wants power within this new country so he offers to cover a more “subservient” position to have Quackity let his guard down so that he can achieve his role. 

“Will this is so cool!” “Tommy SHUT UP!” “Hey! What a fu- hey what a fuck?!” (a bit of Wilbur’s “affable” persona slipping away paired up with Tommy immediately noticing that that was not okay and calling Wilbur out on it)

“Wilbur listen to me: I saw what you did to L’Manburg and I’m not letting Las Nevadas have the same fate as L’Manburg. I appreciate Tommy here, I appreciate you checking this place out Wilbur but, I don’t need your services, I don’t need your presence, you’re very unpredictable” (Quackity once more standing his ground and repeating that he does not trust Wilbur in the slightest and also reaffirming that he does want Tommy there instead)

It’s interesting to notice that all throughout this exchange, while Tommy was off exploring Quackity was the one often paying attention to him while Wilbur ignored him the whole time before snapping.

“So we’re not allowed?” “Tommy, I need to talk to you Tommy” “Am I allowed? Or is it just Will?” “Well, I’d love to discuss it with you” (Quackity is the first person that actually directly addressed Tommy while ignoring Wilbur since Wilbur’s resurrection and that’s quite interesting. It could be that perhaps he noticed that Wilbur seems to consider Tommy almost like an extension of himself and that he tried to drive a wedge into that)

The next few minutes are spent with Wilbur trying to find out exactly where the confines of Las Nevadas are.

“Tommy come with me. Tommy at my side please” (addressing him like a soldier again)

There is a back and forth between Wilbur and Quackity where Quackity tries to deflect Wilbur’s question about his ownership of the adiacent forest multiple times, but Wilbur does end up finding out that it’s not Quackity’s land. (Wilbur also has a throwaway comment about that forest being Paradise in response to Tommy calling Las Nevadas that which Tommy disagrees on).

“What’s the point in capitalism without healthy competition?” (Wilbur announcing he wants to create a country next to Quackity’s)

“Wait, where are you going?” “Just over here Tommy. Stay by my side, by my side” (once again an emphasis on wanting Tommy nearby, which isn’t new)

“You know what Wilbur? You’re right: capitalism strives on competition and I’m ready for all the competition you can bring me” (Wilbur is positively giddy at this declaration, which makes me think that he does truly see this competition mostly as a game)

“Will I don’t want to start a country, I very much like that country there” *Tommy points at Las Nevadas* “With the stone-” “Tommy we- we’ll discuss this in a minute” “No...” “No no no, Tommy seems to have some concerns about building a country from the ground up” (Tommy under) “Listen, listen, guys, guys, I was over there” (Quackity over) “So how about you take Tommy’s opinion into consideration? For once, for once in your life since you’ve never done so before” (Tommy under) “Can we please listen to me? You [Quackity] are not lis- you’re not lis- you’re actually speaking over me”

This is the first one of many conversations this stream where the fight has moved from the power pissing context Wilbur and Quackity had going on to Tommy. It’s also where they starting weaponizing him more and more (his traumas as well as the other’s treatment of him) while each trying to prove that they’re better for him then the other. Of course this isn’t actually about Tommy, it’s about power once again. Quackity has undeniably noticed by now how Wilbur treats Tommy (aka as an extension of himself) together with being pissed that Wilbur challenged him on his own territory (challenging Las Nevadas which is Quackity’s most prized possession) so he decided to repay him in kind. 

From here on out Tommy seems to spiral more, standing up for himself less, looking more and more uncomfortable (especially when the other two start bringing up his traumatic experiences) and slipping back into dissociation and self-loathing behaviour.

“You showed great interest for my country Tommy and I would like to speak to you about that” “Yes” “Wilbur I don’t think you’ll hold Tommy down and make him join your country” “I have utter fate that Tommy will make the right decision” (both of them starting to put pressure on him, subtly influencing him with their wording) 

Tommy and Quackity have a chat together alone (though Wilbur is listening in). 

First thing that happens is Quackity bringing up the hotel which Wilbur implies later was done maliciously, though we don’t know if Quackity knew that the ownership of it didn’t go back to Tommy once he came back to life.

Afterwards Tommy asks Quackity about his scar. 

“If I’m gonna speak to you I want you to be honest with me, ‘cause I’ve spent quite a lot of time with people who just bullshit me, they lie to me and I’m not doing that anymore” (this is one of Tommy’s 2 priorities in life right now. What he wants can be boiled down to honesty and safety)

Quackity does explain honestly what happened, though the information that they spent their time hunting down Techno while Tommy was in exile instead of trying to help him does understandably upset Tommy quite a bit. (Also Wilbur finally makes himself a sword).

“But if this [butcher army] was while I was in exile you’re meaning to tell me that you put in all of the effort to kill Techno instead of helping me?” (...) “You know I needed help and no one came to see me” (this set back his mentality regarding exile quite a bit I’d guess. The anger is more then understandable)

Quackity doesn’t deny the accusations but he does deflect a bit saying that they can talk about it another time and that he is not Tommy’s enemy to which Tommy agrees.

“How would you like to run the official food business of Las Nevadas” (this is Quackity’s big offer for Tommy)

(Wilbur putting pressure on Tommy in the meantime)

After this Wilbur intervenes directly inquiring on wether or not they were done. Quackity tries to get in a last minute sale pitch to Tommy who is getting quite overwhelmed and asks for some time to think (which he is now given by Quackity, but not later by Wilbur)

Wilbur also expresses worry for Tommy’s safety while they’re coming back, though how sincere it is it’s unknown (I think it's at least partially sincere worry, but I doubt that's all there is to it). That said I want to say that multiple times in this stream Wilbur has seemingly shown to be protective of Tommy when it comes to Quackity, often almost treating him as if he was incapable of defending himself (as if he couldn’t 1v2 the two of them easily). For example here, even though Tommy said that he can take care of himself Wilbur immediately responds out loud with an: “okay I’m coming” and bringing out his sword.

“Listen Tommy I heard what he was saying to you man and you don’t seriously believe that do you?” (keeping the question very open so that Tommy can interject his own doubts. Also Quackity technically didn’t lie once to Tommy and, while there was a bit of deflection on his part so far he hasn’t been all that manipulative if I’m being honest)

Wilbur proceeds to tell Tommy that if he stays with Quackity he’ll be nothing more then a caterer (strongly implying that that’s not something he wants) and Tommy chimes in saying that that’s not for him.

“Listen Tommy I’m not gonna stop you but, I’ll be honest with you man, you’re all I’ve got” (set up for the guilt tripping later as well as once again putting himself in the position of the victim so that Tommy won’t leave him. Also he denies that Jack and Phil count as well because the first is too busy and he doesn’t agree with the political views of the latter)

“I wanna make a place where we can be safe for once. Tommy it’s been so long since we felt safe and man you deserve it. You’ve been through so much, you’ve done so much, Tommy you’ve changed the world! And all you’ve got to show for it is some scars and some trauma. Tommy you deserve this safety and this sanctuary and that’s why I wanna make it with you and you won’t get it over there”

Now this should sound familiar to quite a few people, mostly because it’s pretty similar to the tactic that Quackity himself uses. First identify the victim’s vulnerabilities and their desires (Tommy only wants 2 things and only one is connected to physical places so safety it is). Second relate to the victims experiences repeating that they do deserve to get what they so desperately want (check back Quackity’s conversation with Fundy if you want to see that done really well). And lastly emphasise that you’re the only one who can give them what they want.

“You know what has substance Tommy? Family. Blood” (what sparked back the canon sbi discourse)

“I haven’t- I don’t wanna make my mind now ‘cause it’s- it feels like-” “Tommy you need to make your mind now” (putting a ton of pressure onto Tommy, enough that Tommy is reminded of his time in prison)

“Tommy I love a challenge” (considering the context and the fact that this is in response to Tommy hesitating on who to join this is most definitely about him. Wilbur definitely still considers this, at least partially, part of his and Quackity’s game)

“If you pick Las Nevadas what am I gonna do? Man, what am I gonna do? I’d never hurt you. I’d never want anything bad for you Tommy” (mixing in a bit of guilt tripping with a bit of lies. Now, it’s probably not a lie that he wouldn’t want something bad for Tommy, but the thing about never hurting him? I mean, this stream is a proof of the cotrary)

“You can go with whatever you want, but just know what you’d do to me” (once again painting himself as the victim while guilt tripping Tommy)

“I put a lot of things to the side that I shouldn’t of. I prioritized the wrong things, I put revenge over humanity. I guess all I’m seeking right now is someone who’ll be honest with me and a place where I can feel safe”

Here it is, we got Tommy’s desire spelled out by him. This is what makes him so vulnerable to Wilbur’s manipulation, the fact that Wilbur knows how to pretend that he can offer this. Also the first part of this is another recognition of how unhealthy his mindset was while he was with Technoblade, which makes him saying that he betrayed Techno and feels guilty about that afterwards even more sad because he recognizes that being with Techno was not good for him but still bashes himself over leaving him even if he really didn’t have any other choice if he wanted to stay true to himself. It’s quite tragic and it’s once more a show of his self-loathing. 

“This can be a safe place for them [Techno and Tubbo]” (Wilbur is using the informations Tommy provided him in a moment of open vulnerability to manipulate him further)

Tommy then agrees to stay with Wilbur though he seems far from enthusiastic about it. He seems to believe Wilbur when he says he's gonna make a safe space for him and the people he cares about, but also seems hesitant to fully trust him.

“Big Q is gonna wish he never fucked with me” (still in regard to challenging Wilbur’s perceived ownership of Tommy)

The stream is far from over though. After that conversation between Wilbur and Tommy they start to build a stone penis over the lake and Wilbur and Quackity get in a very heated argument that leaves Tommy incredibly uncomfortable. The whole conversation consists in Wilbur and Quackity shouting at each other about things the other has done to Tommy (all traumatic for him) while Tommy makes himself smaller and shuts down. First Qauckity accuses Wilbur of emotionally manipulating Tommy (which is true), then Wilbur accuses Quackity of using the hotel against Tommy (which wasn’t actually true) and they keep going like that. 

“The one thing [the hotel] Tommy’s tried to do was a failure” (way to undermine achievements like putting Dream behind bars there... however to be exact this is a manipulation tactic known as “shaming” which consists in undermining the victim’s worth to foster feelings of inadequacy which makes them more vulnerable. It’s a tactic Wilbur has used quite often since Pogtopia)

“Great job Wilbur of doing to Tomminnit what you’ve done your entire fucking life” (Quackity does sound actually upset) 

“Don’t try to compare me to you Wilbur, me and you are not the same” (this does align to Quackity’s desire to not live in other people shadows any longer)

“Hey hey hey hey, don’t come near Tommy, don’t come near Tommy” “Will, Will, hey hey, let me speak! This is about me so let me speak! I don’t know I-” “I just don’t want him to hurt you. I just don’t want him to hurt you” “I can fend for myself. You weren’t here for a long time. I thought, I thought you [Wilbur] were gonna make me feel a little bit safer, let me tell you now either of you-” “Fellas fellas” “No shut the fuck up! I didn’t feel- that didn’t make me feel- that was weird, I didn’t- don’t do that either of you” 

Now this is both Wilbur once again babying Tommy and treating him as if he’s not capable of taking care of himself (it could be done out of sincere care, but that doesn’t make it any less patronizing) and Tommy actually standing up for himself. Tommy made himself as little as possible during their confrontation and didn’t utter a word and now he finally got a bit of confidence back to say that he didn’t like that and both of them still tried to interrupt him. And Wilbur immediately went to say that he won’t do it again, but Quackity will as if he didn’t listen to a word Tommy just said. That said after that Quackity does apologize to Tommy specifically (though how sincere that was is debatable and Wilbur also accepts the apology as well even if it wasn’t directed at him) and invites the both of them to have a tour of Las Nevadas. Tommy wanted to refuse the tour because he was already visibly overwhelmed, but Wilbur ignores him and proceeds to accept anyway. 

“Quackity I wanna say from here on, as much as we may have our disagreements here man I- we gotta leave Tommy out of this” (they don’t)

“Tommy I’ll take it back, I’m fine with you working here and still being, you know, as long as you still hang out with me and don’t leave me on my own I have no problems with you working here man” (except they both already put an incredible amount of pressure on him and Will in partucular already made him feel guilty for even considering sort of leaving him)

“At the end of the day it’s okay Tommy, you make your own decisions, but let me keep showing you around the TommyInnit res- uh, I mean the restourant” (very sneaky there Quackity. Naming things creates attachment btw) 

Btw, Quackity and Wilbur are still very tense, but they both put their differences aside in a split second to get Tommy away from the strip club, which honestly is just funny. Also once again Wilbur goes before Tommy inside the casino in case it’s dangerous.

They then gamble for a bit and Tommy bets Linda away and looses it. They then go up in the white tower. 

“This would be such a good point to just jump off and just end it. Woah” “no no no Tommy get down!” “Tommy get down from the rail” (casual reminder that Tommy is still extremely suicidal, though at least this time there was someone there to get him down)

Quackity and Wilbur have a small conversation while Tommy is still checking out the view which mostly consist in Quackity trying to find out more about the Revival Book (while feigning complete ignorance about it). 

Meanwhile while dissociating Tommy puts down some water to the side of the tower and then jumps in it while taking it away (therefore technically jumipng off, but not dying because his fall was slowed down). Quackity notices and immediately panics, while Wilbur places some water down for him so he can get back up. 

“Tommy come here, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you” (both helping and emphasizing his wish for Tommy to depend on him as much as he does on Tommy)

After that they talk for a while and Quackity brings up the conversation that he had with Wilbur which is the moment Wilbur realizes that the “You were right” in the book was referring to the pre-Pogtopia him. Also Wilbur talks about the things he’s lost (years of his life and people are the two things he mentioned). 

“There’s lots of people I wish I could see. Like I wish I could just tell them ‘I’m alive’ and apologize and also thank them” (I do think he’s sincere, but it does make me a bit sad that Tommy was not in the list of people who deserved an apology in Wilbur’s mind)

After that Quackity seems to take an interest in Wilbur’s plans specifically, but, before he can investigate further, Tommy gives him his own answer and declines his offer of manning the restaurant saying that that life is not for him, it’s too relaxed (Wilbur's reaction to it is also worth notice). 

“I don’t wanna run a food stand. Wilbur gets things done” (sorry to Tommy here, but, genuinely, when’s the last time Wilbur got something done without Dream’s or Tommy’s help?)

After this they get back on the topic of the Revive Book and Wilbur reveals that Dream is the one who brought him back. He also admits that he wants to thank Dream for saving him and describes him as his “hero” again. Quackity himself reveals that he has been visiting Dream.

“Oh who cares about Ghostbur?” “Don’t fucking say- don’t- he killed Ghostbur” (once again Tommy should not be here for this conversation considering how triggering the subject is for him)

“I can’t believe- you’re like a misinformed parent, you’re just wrong” (Tommy both pointing out that Wilbur is wrong and admitting that that’s due to a lack of information)

“The prison is not just this thing, this dandelion. No no no, the prison-” “How are you back then Tommy? If you died” “Dream killed me to prove a point. That he- (continues under) he’s omnipotent, he’s got this God complex” “Quackity I need to get in there”

Once again not letting Tommy speak even if Wilbur himself asked the question, though this time it may be because if he listened to Tommy’s story and his experience with Dream he would realize that there are some incongruences between the version of Dream he created in his mind and the real Dream. Between his hero and Tommy’s abuser who beat him to death to prove a point. This split in his mind in how he views Dream was already evident in the last stream with him fip flopping between wanting him dead or not. 

“Tommy, Tommy, I’m not gonna talk shit about them [Sam] without their presence here alright?” (Quackity being protective of his own business patners)

Also Tommy manages to deduce on his own what Quackity has been doing to Dream, though he gets to the conclusion with the wrong clues. Either way after finding out how to visit the prison Wilbur leaves in a hurry telling Tommy to go with him as well.

“I’m a big boy Tommy, I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine” “Wilbur I’m a big man, but I was not fine” (Tommy tries to explain Dream’s danger to Wilbur by making himself vulnerable again, but it doesn’t work as Wilbur doesn’t listen)

Afterwards Wilbur tells Tommy that he is going to the prison and ignores any of Tommy’s concerns on the matter.

“Tommy listen, I didn’t wanna spring things on you because I’m really trying not to be a shit person to you Tommy, right? I’m really really trying. And it’s easy, it’s easy not to be a shit person to you, right? Because we got people like Quackity over there who are just- you know he said it best I’m not gonna talk shit about him behind his back"

If he’s not trying to be a sh*t person to Tommy he is failing miserably. Truly this whole stream he either ignored him, talked over him, talked about incredibly triggering stuff in front of him or tried manipulating him. This was all their interactions summarized. Pettiness aside though, he still badmouths Quackity by handing Tommy the book and telling him that Quackity agreed with the “old Wilbur” (not specifying that he is referring to pre-Pogtopia Wilbur and that he himself still agrees with the “old him”) to villainize him. He also acts like Tommy is being unreasonable for not wanting him to go, despite having died there and having seen Ghostbur die there. Wilbur does say that he won’t go if Tommy really doesn’t want him to, but he leaves telling him they’ll talk about it again right after Tommy tells him this: 

“I don’t think you should do that, he’s more powerful then you think you are”

Left on his own Tommy reminisces of when he went to the prison looking for closure as well. He then borrows an ender chest from Quackity for his and Wilbur’s little stone shack and then goes to the middle of the lake to listen to cat. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Melted Mask

awitchbravestheverge prompt: I don't know if you're still taking prompts but you are a master of hurt/comfort and would sell you my soul for some of that for Janus. Maybe where he's feeling insecure or like he's worn out his welcome post acceptance, or maybe a little touch starved, or both. Preferably with Virgil or Patton as the comforter, but if not thats ok. I just have a never-ending need for fic where people are soft and gentle with the snake boy, and I love everything you write with my whole heart

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: DLAMPR, focus on anxceit and moceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide I don’t mind

Warnings: uhhh sympathetic deceit and remus

Word Count: 4804

 “How many masks of your own face are you currently wearing?”

 “At least four.”

Between the gloves, the cape, and the hat, there’s not an awful lot of Janus that is seen most of the time. Not that he particularly minds. There is a certain benefit that layers upon layers of clothing provides. One, they’re perfect for concealing his cane—the others always look so surprised when he summons it from nowhere. Two, he is Dark Side, thanks to Roman’s fantastic naming system. There is an aesthetic standard that must be met. What was he going to do, show up in some ratted old hoodie?

 Three, well—there is an awful lot to look at. If the others are focused on the clasps at his throat, the shock of the yellow gloves, the logo hidden under the black fabric, they’re not looking at him.

 If they were, they’d see his scales.

 He is the only side with a visible animal trait, after all. The scales cover the left side of his face, down beneath his collar. He doesn’t mind the stares—come on, it’s so easy to catch them off guard, how could he?—but sometimes he does wonder if they’ll ever get used to it.

  To him.

 The scales are a reminder. That he’s different. That he’s not like them. He’s not like the others, he doesn’t look like Thomas, at least not to the extent that they do. Thomas doesn’t have golden scales along the side of his face. Thomas doesn’t have a mouth that curves up along his cheek. Thomas doesn’t have a slit-eye pupil. No, no, Thomas is normal.

 How dreadful.

 Then, of course, there are the lies.

 ‘Deceit.’ Such a funny word. And so…polarizing.

 ‘Deceitful,’ ‘dishonest,’ ‘dastardly’—lot of ‘d’s, here, hmm?—all of the words that just mean he’s a liar. And lying must be bad, right? So it follows logically then, because we simply adore logic in this house, that he must be bad.

 He’s not to be trusted, he’s a liar. He’s not honest, he’s a liar. They have to double and triple-check everything he says because he’s a liar.

 They always conveniently seem to forget that you can always trust a dishonest person to be dishonest. It’s the truthful ones you have to watch out for.

 Janus knows he’s a liar. Frankly, he’s quite proud of it. He’s gotten very good at it too; twisting the words together just right in order to tug slightly at a heartstring there, block off just a little rationality there, get the job done. The others always get caught up in his words, too busy focusing on the minutia of it, the details, leaving him free to step around them and speak to Thomas.

 They see the gloves, they see the scales, they see the lies.

 They see the masks.

 Oh, sometimes he’ll put on a little bit more of a show if he needs to make a point, if the normal masks aren’t quite enough to get Thomas to listen. He’ll tie a hoodie around his shoulders, push a pair of glasses up his nose, knot a tie around his neck. Problem is…those ones are a little easier to see through. No matter how hard he tries, all of his disguises end up being a self-portrait.

 Which is how he ended up here.

 “You know the rules,” Patton says, his hands on his hips, “no impersonating others outside of filming!”

 Janus rolls his eyes and idly flicks a speck of dirt off one of his gloves. “Oh, please. You don’t want me to do it during filming either.”

 “No, I don’t, but we made a compromise, kiddo, now we both have to stick to it.”

 Janus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure the others will be relieved to hear so.”

 “What have we said about impersonations?”

 He sighs. “The others may be idiots—“

 “Oi!”

 “—but idiots are also deserving of respect,” Janus finishes, glancing at Virgil draped over the back of the couch. “And I would never dream of being anything less than perfectly respectful.”

 Virgil snorts. “What do you even get out of it anyway?” He sits up a little straighter. “Wait, you haven’t been tricking Roman into telling you how to impersonate us better, have you?”

 “Now why would I do that?”

 “Janus!”

 “What? Like you don’t make a habit of going to the others for advice.”

 “There’s a difference between openly asking for it and tricking them into giving it to you.”

 Janus levels a stare at him. “I suppose there is, isn’t there?”

 “Hey!” Patton steps between them. “That’s enough.”

 “Oh, well—“ Janus makes a show of resettling his cape—“if you say so.”

 Patton sighs. “Janus, we are trying, okay? You heard Thomas, you’re…well, you’re more welcome now.”

 “And you’re doing a marvelous job of that.”

 Patton doesn’t quite deflate, but it’s close. “Well, maybe we could all try a little harder.” He gives Janus a pointed look.

 “Yes, I’m sure my efforts will be richly rewarded.”

 “Well, you could start by showing up as yourself more often.”

 “Myself?” Janus gasps theatrically, putting a gloved hand to his scales. “Who’s that?”

 “Dude,” Virgil sniggers—Virgil did always appreciate his sense of humor—“how many masks of your own face are you currently wearing”

 “At least four.”

 Patton lets him go with another verbal slap on the wrist and Virgil flips him off. Janus sinks out, striding down the hallway near his room. It’s quieter here. The walls hum a little less. He can think.

 He hadn’t gone to Roman to gets tips on his acting. He’d gone because Roman doesn’t want to talk to Janus.

 Janus, the liar. Janus, the manipulator. Janus, the Dark Side.

 Janus shuts the door of his room and instinctively slumps, the cape hanging off his shoulders. He knows Patton means well, and Virgil’s…Virgil, but sometimes it stings a little more than it should. Not that the others will ever see it.

 He’ll never forget the look on Thomas’s face when Logan said he was the side that acts with the one priority of self-preservation. Of how it instantly demonized the idea of protecting yourself. Of Thomas keeping himself safe.

 He looks at his hands, sees the gloves. They still don’t fit quite right, even after all these years. He can’t get the seams to run down the sides of the fingers, not curve around to the front or the back. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. Especially considering how much use he’s gotten out of them.

 Lying kept Thomas alive. It kept him safe. He helped keep Thomas safe. When Virgil couldn’t breathe, when Logan faltered, when Patton froze, Janus would quietly make his way over to Roman and whisper a suggestion. Just a suggestion. To lie. To keep Thomas safe. To get them out of here. And it saved them. So many times.

 Janus walks over to the mirror. It’s a fairly modest thing; about the size of a small sink, oval, large enough so he can see himself completely if he takes a few steps back. He ignores his own face and reaches for the golden latch on the side. He turns it.

 The cabinet swings open to reveal a dark velvet interior with several small podiums. Each has a thin mask laid atop it. They gleam in the low light of the room. Janus reaches out and carefully makes sure each is perfectly centered. As he does so, his gloves linger on the fine print beneath the podiums.

 Everyone has masks. Versions of themselves to present to the world when they need to. A mask that keeps you safe, a mask that keeps you alive, a mask that has the courage to speak when you don’t. The mask they wear around their homophobic relatives, the mask they wear when they need to make a phone call, the mask they wear when they need to pretend they’re something they’re not.

 Janus is very, very good at making masks.

 He never wears these. These are for Thomas. When Thomas needs help, Janus slips one of these out of the cabinet and sets it on the desk in front of the mirror. He looks at it, then at the mirror, and works. These masks are what helps Thomas.

 He shuts the cabinet with a decisive click, suddenly confronted with his own face.

Janus is so good at making masks that he doesn’t even need a mask to wear one.

 A mask because you’re the bad guy. A mask because you can never be trusted. A mask because when you try to be vulnerable they won’t listen. A mask because they don’t want you, they want the character that you embody to survive.

 He pities the others sometimes. They don’t have these masks and they hurt. They can’t distance themselves, pull away just a little more, embody a role so that when it’s over, when they’re safe again, they can take it off and breathe. But they don’t. So they just get hurt. Over and over and over.

 Janus’s lips involuntarily curl up into a snarl. The hand on the mirror closes into a fist.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. That’s not how this is supposed to work.

 He’s not supposed to hurt them.

 Part of him argues that he has to. If he keeps working the way he’s been working he can get right to Thomas, who is who needs the most protection. If he tries to do it their way they risk Thomas getting hurt and Janus won’t have that.

 Part of him whispers that this is good for them. If he can make them a little tougher, help them get thicker skin, they’ll be safer. And then it won’t matter if they hate him. They’ll be safe. That’s all he cares about.

 The rest of him—

 …well, the rest of him is currently the reason he’s having trouble looking in the mirror right now.

 The problem with wearing so many masks is that it becomes harder and harder to figure what’s the mask and what’s not. And he’s gotten so good at making them that now…now he doesn’t have to think about it.

 A mask for when Logan asks to debate about philosophy. A mask for when Remus wants him to help him and Roman make something new. A mask for when Patton wants to bake. A mask for when Virgil comes to him for help.

 A mask for all of them. A mask for none of them.

 Janus doesn’t want to wear the masks all the time. He wants them to be warm, to care, to smile when he comes into the room, or even ask where he is. He wants to laugh as Patton smears batter all over his nose accidentally. He wants to listen to Logan ramble about some new advancement in quantum gravity. He wants Virgil to come plop down next to him while everyone else is in the living room. He wants Remus to stay with him while they watch the others get into ridiculous fights over board games. He wants Roman to not be afraid to come talk to him.

 He wants.

 Janus is selfish.

 But he isn’t stupid.

 He knows they don’t want him. He knows they don’t want him, even without the masks. Deep down, he knows they don’t need him either.

 But Thomas does.

 So here Janus will stay, in the dark, in the cold, wearing too many masks of his own face to keep count.

—————————————————————

The Mindscape is cold. It never quite feels solid. Drafts blow in and out of the walls, through the little gaps in the floor, from places that Janus can’t find, no matter how many times he looks for them. He bundles himself up in his cloak and his hat and does his best to hold still, sink in as much warmth as he can. He sneaks up behind the others, pressing himself up near them, purring in their ears, just to snatch their body heat. They always shove him away with flustered protests and blushy little faces. They’re so adorable.

 Plus, he knows that’s all he’s ever really going to get from them.

 But he’s cold, goddamnit. Why do they keep the air conditioning so high in this house? Snakes are cold-blooded. They get slow. Lethargic. Hypothermic, if it gets very bad.

 Janus can’t afford to be slow.

 So he wears his gloves, his cape, his hat. He stands opposite the window so he can get the most sunlight. He finds the patches of warmth where none of the others will find him and he can curl up for the warmth he needs...

 …and fine, maybe it’s a little more than just being cold.

 The others are…touchy. Patton throws his arm around just about everyone. Bumps his hip against theirs. Pats their shoulders, squeezes their hands, kisses their cheeks. Roman sweeps people into his arms, pulls them in for hugs, keeps an arm around their waists for as long as he’s allowed. Remus can and will just tackle whoever he wants. Logan holds himself a little further away, but even he’ll lay a comforting hand on someone’s arm. Janus will admit he was shocked when Virgil started exhibiting spider characteristics. That Side is a cat and you will not convince him otherwise. And everyone knows if a cat falls asleep on you, you’re not allowed to move until it wakes up.

 Not that Virgil has fallen asleep on him recently.

 Janus is not too proud to admit that at first, he didn’t want their touches. He had a job to do, he didn’t need to be distracted. But now…now he does.

 He sees the way they move around each other and it stings. The accidental brushes he gets from standing too close or when they aren’t thinking about it sear through layers and layers of clothing to burn into his skin. When he stays close to them—close, but not too close—his whole side begins to tingle, reaching for them, their warmth, for them. But now it’s too late. His mask is already firmly in place and they know Deceit hates being touched.

 That’s another reason for the layers. For the gloves.

 Janus knows that if they ever touch him directly, skin to skin, his mask will shatter. And that is too dangerous to risk. With his gloves, his cape, his hat, his masks, the only way that would happen is if one of them tried to touch his face.

 And that is certainly very likely indeed.

 The clothes give him a barrier. A last line of defense. No touch is better than unexpected touch.

 But that doesn’t stop him from being cold.

 He can tell it’s going to happen when he can’t quite close his fingers around the end of his staff in the middle of their conversation. His gloves don’t catch on the wood quite right and he has to fumble to grab it properly. He glances up. No one’s looking at him.

  Are they ever?

 He tucks his hands smoothly out of sight, frantically burrowing them into his cloak to see if they’ll warm up. He locks his knees. No good. His fingers start to hurt as he flexes them. They’re still not moving faster. It’s cold.

 He glances at the clock. Two minutes. He can last two minutes. Or so he thinks, until his jaw starts to clench. He clenches it harder, ignoring the protest from his neck, his shoulders, trying to make it stop. He takes a deep slow breath and tries to relax, to stop his muscles from tensing. It works, barely.

 One minute.

 His hands aren’t responding properly. He can barely move his fingers. He just needs to get out of here. If he gets out of here he can get warm. He has his electric blanket, he has everything he needs. He just needs to leave.

 Thirty seconds.

 The conversation draws to a close and Janus nods deeply, tossing one last barb over his shoulder as he sinks out, only to collapse in the hallway as soon as he does. A draft flows out right next to his shoulder, freezing fingers dancing up his arm, along the back of his neck, diving into his collar to snatch more of his warmth. He curses, heaves himself to his feet, and makes it to his room. It’s so cold.

 Something tugs in his chest. No, no—!

 “I suppose there must be a good reason for summoning me back,” Janus drawls, snapping his gloves right back into place as he appears in the living room.

 Patton and Virgil stare back at him. Patton fidgets with his hands. “W-well, we, uh, I had a question for you.”

 Damn. “Well.” Janus spreads his arms, trying to play off how slow he’s moving for dramatic effect. “I’m here. Ask away.”

 “I, uh, a few days ago you mentioned that you didn’t feel as welcome here.” Patton looks at him with such an expression of sincerity that it makes Janus’s tongue itch. “And I wanted to know what I could do to help.”

 “Aren’t you sweet?”

 Patton won’t be deterred, it seems. He stares at Janus, resolute as ever. It’s so cold in here he’s going to start slurring in a moment.

 “Janus?”

 “That is my name, yes.”

 “Are you…are you feeling alright?”

 Janus gestures to himself, movements growing slower by the second. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

 Slow. Too slow.

 Patton frowns. He gives him a look. “You don’t seem like you normally are, are you sure?”

 “I am entirely in one piece.”

 “That doesn’t answer my question.”

 “Honey, if you’re looking for a straight answer, I’m afraid you’re looking in the wrong place.”

 Virgil moves. Right, Virgil was here too. Janus is slow. Too slow. He can’t move. He can’t get away. His mask forms a bored expression on his face, quirking an eyebrow. Virgil approaches him and holds out a hand. A cold part of Janus’s chest leaps.

 The lips of the mask part. “And what exactly do you intend to do with that?”

 “This,” Virgil mutters, and cups the side of Janus’s face.

 Everything stops.

 Distantly, he feels Virgil’s hand leave his face. Hears something about being too cold. Sees a blur of blue rush away. But all he can focus on is—

  Warm. Virgil touched you. Warm. Warm. So warm. Keep the mask on. Don’t let the mask slip. Warm. If the mask slips everything will be ruined. Warm. Don’t you remember how to take the mask off? Virgil. Patton. Warm.

 “Janus? Janus!”

 Janus blinks. Virgil is still standing in front of him. There’s a little wrinkle between his brows. The mask is frozen in place, iced into a neutral expression.

 “Hey,” Virgil says quietly, “you’re freezing, bud. You gotta get warm.”

 Janus can’t speak. The mask is so cold.

 “You remember what happens when you get too cold,” Virgil continues, taking a step closer. Janus can’t move. Virgil’s frown deepens and he tilts his head. “What’s going on, Janus, you don’t normally let it get this bad.”

  Yes, Virgil, we’re aware.

 “You could’ve asked, dude,” Virgil says, taking another step closer, a little exasperation mingling with the concern, “any of us.”

 The mask smirks. Barely. “Yes, because I’m sure everyone would be so willing to cuddle me so I could steal their body heat.”

 “You don’t know that.” The mask doesn’t move. Virgil glances over his shoulder. When he speaks next, his voice is lowered to a whisper.

 “You don’t have to keep that on right now, Jan,” he says quietly, “it’s okay. It’s just me. I know you. You can…you know. Emote and stuff.”

 Janus huffs a laugh. It’s weak. 

 “You ever wear a mask so long you forget how to take it off?”

 Vigil pauses. “Huh?”

 “Ever pretended to be something for so long you forget which is real and which isn’t?” Janus’s smile turns sad. “Made yourself believe it too?”

 Virgil’s eyes close for a second. When he opens them, the concern in his gaze takes the last of the warm breath from Janus’s lungs. “Does this have anything to do with…?” He waves in Janus’s direction.

 Janus nods, slowly, so slowly. “I can’t. Because I’ve been…I’ve been trained out of it. I built my masks to hide behind. And now I can’t take them off.”

 “And we haven’t been good about helping you do that, huh.” He sounds so tired. He’s been through so much…

 “I’m…”

 The mask won’t let him apologize.

  Like they would ever accept it.

 “No, no,” Virgil says, “don’t apologize. You aren’t to blame for what you’ve been put through.”

  Oh, Virgil…

 Virgil glances over his shoulder. Then he shakes his head. “Just…look, go.”

 “What?”

 “I know this isn’t the time to talk about stuff. You’re not in any sort of shape to do that and Patton will understand. Go get warm.” He gives Janus a pointed look. “You take care of yourself first, okay?”

 He tries. He goes back to his room and buries himself in blankets, in pillows, in more layers than he can stand. The pressure is good but it’s still so cold. The weight of the electric blanket is nothing compared to the warmth of Virgil’s hand. Everything in here smells sterile, clinical, detached. It’s all so cold.

  You take care of yourself.

 The last sentence rings through his head late at night. He wants. But everyone’s probably asleep by now, and god knows they need to sleep. Surely it’ll be alright if he just goes to the living room? That’s not too far, right?

 There’s a fire going in the fireplace—since when did they have a fireplace? And there’s someone sitting on the couch. Hmm. Maybe if…if he’s quiet, if he doesn’t make too much noise, he can slip in and soak up some of the warmth. 

 Virgil turns around.

 “Hey, Janus,” he murmurs, standing, and comes over to him. “Can’t sleep?”

 Janus shakes his head. It’s warm in here, but he’s still cold. Virgil can see that, apparently.

 “Here,” he says, handing him a cup of tea that appeared out of thin air, “drink. It’ll warm you up.”

 Janus takes it cautiously. Isn’t it Virgil’s? There’s no way Virgil would’ve know Janus was coming…right?

 “This is my third one, figure I should let you catch up first.”

 He gestures to the couch, an encouraging smile on his lips.

 “Sit. C’mon”

 Janus does, sinking into the plush couch and cradling the warm mug in his hands. The couch groans as Virgil sits next to him. He can feel Virgil just out of reach, just there…

 “I like watching the fire,” comes a low voice from next to him as he sips the tea. “Helps me think. Or stop thinking.”

 He keeps talking in that low voice and the warm tea flows through Janus, sapping the cold slowly away from his body.

 Distantly, he feels someone steering him down onto the couch, and heavy arms around him.

 “Or maybe you just need a cuddle. Go to sleep, Janus.”

—————————————————————

 “ — stop twitching, Remus! You’ll make a mistake!”

 “Stop tugging his arm all over the place and then you won’t.”

 “Will you two pipe the fuck down? You’re gonna wake him up.”

 “Says the loudmouth!”

 “Roman, stop it.”

 “Stop moving his arm!”

 What is…? He’s lying on something. It’s warm, really warm. It smells like…coffee, makeup, and…cinnamon? He shifts slightly, and oh he slept on his neck wrong. A low groan escapes his throat.

 His pillow stiffens. “Shit. He’s awake.”

 “Good going, Remus.”

 “You were the one yelling!”

 “Shut the fuck up, both of you.” The chest underneath him vibrates. “Shh, snake-face, go back to sleep. You’re alright. Go back to sleep.”

 Janus shifts again, trying to look around, but he’s held down by another strong arm. A hand cards itself through his hair—where’s his hat? “Shh, be still, buddy, you’re okay. Can’t we get you back to sleep?”

 “What…’s going on?” His tongue feels heavy, swelling up in his mouth.

 “I believe the chances of getting him back to sleep will increase if you tell him what you’re doing.”

 It’s…Logan? He appears, fuzzy but definitely there, over the back of the couch. Janus tries to turn to make it easier to see him but his right arm is pinned and he can’t move—

 “Easy, J, easy, shh, shh, you’re okay, you’re safe, just keep your arm nice and still, okay?” Virgil, it’s Virgil he’s lying on, runs his hand through his hair again. “I’m pretty sure Roman would pitch a fit.”

 “Hah.” Roman snorts from somewhere close to the ground. “If this got ruined, yours would be too.”

 “If you hadn’t insisted on going last,” Remus says, “this wouldn’t’ve been an issue.”

 And then he feels it. Something is drawn sharply across his right wrist.

 “Shh, shh, Janus, breathe, breathe, you’re okay, damnit, Princey, stop! You’re making him freak out!”

 It’s gone, the contact is gone. His arm is still hanging over the edge of the couch but it’s held there by Virgil’s arm and another hand.

 “Hey there, Snakey.” Remus appears over Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re okay. We’re just making sure you’re okay.”

 Roman snorts. “There’s something wrong with how you phrased that.”

 Then suddenly Patton appears out of nowhere and doesn’t surprise him at all. Luckily, or unluckily, Janus is far too exhausted and disoriented to react more than rucking up the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie a little. Patton looks at the couch.

 “There isn’t room, Pop-star,” Virgil says, lazily stretching so his bulk takes up all of it, moving slow enough so Janus isn’t jostled too much. Then Virgil yelps and their lower bodies are lifted and he can feel the couch sag under another body.

 “What the hell, Pat.”

 “Now there’s room.” Patton reaches up and ruffles Virgil’s hair.

 There are so many people and it’s warm but why are they all here? Did he miss something? Does he need to leave?

 “Looks good,” Patton says, interrupting his train of thought, “it’s coming along well.”

 Logan clears his throat. “Would someone like to inform Janus about what exactly ‘this’ is?”

 “Oh, right, sorry, Snakey,” Remus says, crouching back down, “let’s show you.”

 Virgil turns over slowly, lifting his arm and using the leverage to shift Janus onto his chest. “Jeez, Janus, you’re light. Patton, have we been feeding him enough?”

 “I suspect there’s been a lack of communication, kiddo.”

 “Now is not the time to yell at him, Patton,” Logan says quietly.

 “I’m not yelling! But yes, now is not the time.”

 Virgil coaxes his head to one side, and Roman lifts his arm by the back of his hand.

 Janus’s mouth drops open.

 There are little animals drawn on his right arm, from his wrist to his elbow. There’s a navy cat, simple and clean, near the vein. A light blue frog with little glasses. A purple and black spider. A green octopus with large black tentacles. And an unfinished red dragon right near his wrist.

 “If I could finish,” Roman asks softly.

 “Alright, calm down, here.” Remus lowers his arm and holds it steady. Roman puts the brush back to his arm and starts painting again. Virgil and Remus start arguing about something, probably, but he can’t focus on anything besides the soft bristles of the brush on his arm, the rumble of Virgil’s chest, and the warmth of the weight on his legs.

 Logan stands behind his head. “You don’t need to wear a mask here, Janus,” he says softly, “not unless you want to.”

 No one else hears him except for Patton. He gives Janus’s leg a squeeze.

 It’s warm. It’s so warm.

 He wants to watch as Roman paints the dragon but he’s tired but he doesn’t want to sleep yet…not just yet.

 Patton reaches towards his face. His finger lands on his forehead and drags gently down the bridge of his nose.

 What…?

 Oh.

 As he follows his touch, Janus’s eyes drift closed.

 It’s so warm.

 And a warm hand on his cheek wipes the last of the mask away.

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[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 108

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 108: False Answers

Generously sharing hints inside the door wasn't much of a good thing at all, at least for the owners of the hints.

Because once you’d shared your hint, you’d exposed your own strength. The more difficult the door, the more true this was.

The more toward the end you were, the more difficult it was to get hints at all. So going public with a hint might make you a target, someone everybody was on their guard against. You might even be subject to sabotage.

Plus, without peculiar circumstances, nobody would want to share their hard-won hints anyways.

But the door before them obviously had to be an exception, because if they didn't tell the others the rules of the game, then those who died and became Hakobito would increase the difficulty of their escape.

"Are we going to tell them?" Lin Qiushi asked. "What happens if we just announce it like this?"

"We have to tell them no matter what." Though he'd heard the scream, Ruan Nanzhu wasn't distressed at all. "But there's no rush. They're all shrewd old things, even if I tell them everything they might not believe me."

As the three spoke, they returned to the foyer they were in before, and saw that someone had opened a chest in the corner. Inside the chest was something like a stethoscope. Someone had taken it out, and was examining it closely. That was an item available for use inside the Hako Onna game, Lin Qiushi recalled. He didn't think someone would be lucky enough to open up an item immediately.

"Who screamed just now?" Liang Miye eyed the stethoscope, then looked elsewhere.

"It was me…" a girl said meekly. "I was just getting ready to go check out the kitchen with them, but then I saw something in the crack of the door. I think it was a- a little girl wearing a dress. I couldn't stop myself, and screamed."

This girl was obviously a newbie, nervous-looking and by all appearances inexperienced.

After hearing her explanation, a few of the veterans had on peculiar expressions. They wanted nothing more than to stay as far away as possible from those things—only newbies got so foolishly close and offered up their heads like that.

Lin Qiushi took the opportunity to look around, quickly counting up the proportion of newbies to veterans.

Of the twenty-three, at least four in that group of seven were newbies; dazed bewilderment was still visible on their faces.

Minus these seven, there were likely also some newbies in the remaining sixteen. Which was to say, more than one group had brought newbies into this door. So the newbie count was between eleven and twelve, about half-and-half with the vets.

Actually, upon closer thought, it was easy to understand how people could risk other people's lives like this.

There was a limited number of death conditions. To test and identify one meant being able to avoid it. Testing these conditions with other people's lives was the easiest method.

"Can you not just open random chests?" Among the old hands, there were already some who couldn't watch these newbies mess around anymore. "Look—these chests are everywhere, so they must have some sort of special function. If you keep randomly opening them, shit's definitely going to go wrong!"

"What can go wrong!" The one who'd obtained the stethoscope was a young man, bravely swaggering about with a poor attitude. "I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?"

"You might be fine now, but who knows about later." The one with all the suspicions seemed to be called Sun Yuanzhou. The twist of his head was cold as he spoke to the leader of this newbie pack: "You brought them in. Get a grip on them, will you?"

The one who'd brought the bunch of newbies in this time was a middle-aged man named Wei Xiude. His face was unremarkable, and by appearance alone, seemed friendly and congenial. But evidently, to have brought in so many newbies, he wasn't at all a good person.

"Alright, alright." Wei Xiude at least knew to speak well. "I'll take care of them. Xiao Ji, don't open anymore chests. It won't be good if something happens. It's dangerous inside the door after all."

"Like anything will happen," the young man called Xiao Ji spoke impatiently. "You're too wimpy. No risk no rewards…"

As he spoke, he lifted his hand to open another chest.

"Wait—" Lin Qiushi spoke up to stop him.

But Xiao Ji naturally wouldn't listen to Lin Qiushi. In a single breath, he opened up two more chests. Fortunately, his luck was good: one chest had a slip of paper in it, and the other was empty.

"What's this?" Xiao Ji picked up the paper, and read it out loud. "False Answers…" There seemed to be only those two words on the paper, and no other information. He muttered, "the hell is this?"

He tossed the paper aside onto a table.

"Don't open any more." Seeing that Xiao Ji wasn't planning to quit opening chests, Ruan Nanzhu finally spoke up. "If I'm not wrong, this should be a tabletop game I've played before, called Hako Onna. If you keep opening up chests like this, something nasty really will pop out."

At this, Xiao Ji's hands finally stopped. He said, "What? Why didn't you say so earlier!"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged. "You moved too quickly. As if I had time to."

Because of Ruan Nanzhu's words, all eyes in the house were now on him. Some looked energized, some doubting, some suspicious.

"You mean we're playing a game right now? Have you played it before?" Sun Yuanzhou got the point quickly.

"A few times." Ruan Nanzhu sat down on the sofa and leaned back. "I couldn't be sure when I first came in, so I went upstairs to find some key items. I'm sure now that it's that game."

Everybody gathered around, waiting for his next words.

Ruan Nanzhu very simply explained the rules. In the heavy chests was a ghoul, and opening them up at random could very well release it. Humans caught by the ghoul became Hakobito—box people—who continue on to sabotage the survivors.

Regarding the rules, Ruan Nanzhu hid nothing. He gave detailed descriptions from beginning to end, and answered many people's questions. But it was as he predicted—though he kept up an earnest attitude, the veterans didn't simply believe everything he told them.

"According to what you said, we can just not open chests??" someone spoke up in the group, questioning Ruan Nanzhu. "That's what you mean? That if we don't open any chests, nothing will happen? You said the safe has a four-digit passcode. Though there are ten thousand combinations, as long as we spend some time testing it we'll get it right eventually!"

Ruan Nanzhu turned a palm to the sky. "I'm only telling you the rules from the game I've played, not what the rules are here. There must have been changes, but I don't know what those changes are either."

"Let's count up how many chests are in this house total," a young woman said. Though she didn't look very old, she was seasoned. "I'm Yin Xinyi, pleasure working with you." She extended a hand to Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu shook it. "I'm Zhu Meng."

"On the first day, the Hako Onna will cry once," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Where her cry comes from is where she's located. After that, she'll only cry when she wants to obtain a power…"

"Power?" Yin Xinyi asked.

"Yes. He's opened one up already." Ruan Nanzhu pointed at Xiao Ji. "False Answers."

Muttering broke out among the crowd, many asking what exactly this meant.

"In the tabletop, it's one of Hako Onna's powers," Ruan Nanzhu said. "It means the player who plays Hako Onna can lie."

Yin Xinyi, "lie? She can answer our questions?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "in reality, yes. As for here, I don't know what sort of derivative effect the power will have."

"We'll rest for today." Sun Yuanzhou's personality leaned toward dominant, taking up leadership among the group. "It's already after ten, and things are more likely to happen at night. Let's discuss this in more detail tomorrow."

"Okay," most agreed with Sun Yuanzhou's suggestion.

Then everybody began splitting into rooms.

There were three floors in the mansion. Floor one held the functional rooms, like the kitchen. Floors two and three were mostly bedrooms, with studies and bathrooms among them. There was also a large balcony, though it was sealed up by cement.

There were no rules about how many people could stay together, but most went for two to three per room—Lin Qiushi's group as well.

As the night got deeper, the mansion went hazy in the darkness.

Steel boards hammered over the windows blocked out most of the sun. Then, thick drapes like curtains at a show's finale sectioned away the remaining light. The lights in the hallway were a dim red, making the whole area seem like a darkroom or something. It was quite discomfiting.

The room Lin Qiushi and company were staying in was also filled with chests.

They had done a rough count. In the entire mansion, there were at least two hundred wooden chests, each about half a meter tall, neatly placed in every single corner of the house; they had a collective presence that was difficult to ignore.

It was in a chest like this that a girl, with her body all twisted up, could be hidden. At the thought, nobody wanted to take a second glance.

After washing up, the three got in bed. Ruan Nanzhu took the bed by the wall and could see the mass of chests with a mere turn of his head.

Before they slept, the three discussed some things.

"What happens if I don't open any chests?" Liang Miye said. "If nobody opens them, then nobody dies?"

"As if," Ruan Nanzhu said. "There'll definitely be a catch for us in here." They just didn't know what that catch was at the moment.

The doors would never allow them to unconditionally waste time inside, unless…there was only one person left inside this door.

"What kind of catch?" Liang Miye said. "But forcing our moves is good actually, or we're all left hoping others will gamble on their own lives."

Every time you opened a chest was a wager; who knew what would come out?

Ruan Nanzhu made a sound of agreement.

Lin Qiushi's attention was also on the chests, though he was thinking about that stethoscope the guy took during the day. The stethoscope was a game item, but could only be used once a day. It could determine whether or not the Hako Onna was in a chest, because if she was, the stethoscope would pick up soft sounds.

It was a very important item, but it was now in somebody else's hands.

Ah, this really was a game of luck, Lin Qiushi thought. As someone who'd never even won a simple five-yuan lottery, his luck truly wasn't all that impressive.

Plus, with their lives as the gambling chips, they could hardly afford it.

Late in the evening, Lin Qiushi still couldn't sleep well. Around three in the morning, a horrible scream came from downstairs, waking everybody from their dreams.

Lin Qiushi came awake in an instant, opening his eyes and meeting Ruan Nanzhu's gaze.

"Something happened?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Let's go see. Downstairs."

Liang Miye had woken up as well, and said, "that was the second floor, right? Don't tell me somebody got bored enough of living and decided to open a chest?" Ruan Nanzhu had explained it thoroughly enough during the day. If, after all that, someone still wanted to risk their life to open a chest, then Liang Miye really had nothing more to say.

But the annoying thing about newbies was their unpredictability. Under the oppressive weight of terror, no one knew what stupid move they would make next.

The crying and wailing didn't stop. When they got to the second floor, they could still hear the sounds coming through the door.

"Aaaah, it hurts, help me, help me!! Aaah—" The screams were chilling. Several people were currently stood outside that doorway. A sweeping look told Lin Qiushi that these were all veterans, including Sun Yuanzhou. He pushed at the door, then said, "it's locked. I'll go grab something."

"No need, I got it." Ruan Nanzhu slowly approached the door, bent down, and got to unlocking it.

Everybody's eyes were fixed on him. Moments later, the lock clicked open, and the room inside was revealed to them.

The room was already empty. The cries were coming from inside a wooden chest. Not only were there cries emanating from the chest, but also a dull banging, as if the person inside wanted to beat their way out.

"Save me, please save me, I don't want to die…" The closer they got, the more nerve-wracking the sound became.

"Who was staying in this room?" Ruan Nanzhu asked. As he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the chest beside this one. "They opened a chest."

"Fucker." Sun Yuanzhou seemed pissed off, angrily spinning around and going to the room next door. He banged on it until he'd woken up the people inside. "Wei Xiude, get your ass out here now! Were the people in this room with you?!"

Moments later, the room door opened and Wei Xiude walked out. He said, "what are you talking about, 'with me'?"

"In that room!" Sun Yuanzhou jabbed a finger at the room where the incident occurred.

Looking at that room, Wei Xiude's brow lightly puckered. "Yes, there are two of them in there." He seemed to comprehend something. "Something happened to them?"

Sun Yuanzhou spat a curse.

Wei Xiude saw everybody's eyes on him, none very friendly, and he laughed somewhat awkwardly.

"My apologies, I'll give them all a stern reminder for sure. But they haven't been in many doors and some of them don't know the rules…"

Sun Yuanzhou, icily, "mind your own people, or don't blame me for coming after you."

Then he walked off, seeming thoroughly disgusted with Wei Xiude.

Which was fair. A normal tenth door was difficult enough, but the newbies Wei Xiude brought in managed to ruck up the gameplay level to difficult-as-hell.

Nobody was in a good mood at this moment. The looks they shot Wei Xiude were also filled with distaste. Behavior like Wei Xiude's had always been contemptible. Inside the door however, every one could really only sweep the snow from their own front porches; they had no wherewithal to mind anybody else. But if Wei Xiude'd actions proved detrimental to everybody's interests, then that was another matter altogether.

The chest was still wailing at a head-splitting volume.

Lin Qiushi found some items that were left behind around the chest. Judging by the quantity, it hadn't just been one person dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

People dying meant an increase in the number of Hakobito; the risk of opening a chest had once again increased.

Lin Qiushi let out a breath, thinking things really were getting tricky.

It was the dead of night at this point. Most likely, nobody got any sleep since that chest wailed on for the entire evening. It was only by morning of the next day that the noise gradually weakened, then finally disappeared.

Lin Qiushi still couldn't understand—Ruan Nanzhu had clearly told them not to open chests for no reason. Why would people still break the taboo? Did they really just believe they would be lucky enough?

After a sleepless night, nobody looked very well. The experienced veterans were mostly fine—it was those who'd been hoodwinked in who looked on the verge of collapse. One girl just curled up in a corner sobbing.

Breakfast appeared by itself in the dining room. It wasn't too bad. Though Lin Qiushi didn't have much of an appetite, he still forced himself to eat some.

It was Ruan Nanzhu whose attention kept wandering. He seemed to be thinking something over. Halfway through eating, he said he wanted to go to the bathroom, and Lin Qiushi said, "I'll go with you."

"Sure," Ruan Nanzhu chuckled. "I'm actually a bit nervous."

Bathrooms in the mansion were all stalls with no distinction for gender. Lin Qiushi stood outside to wait, but after a while, he heard a strange noise coming from inside the bathroom.

Lin Qiushi leaned in closer, and upon realizing what the noise was, his expression changed. The noise…was coming from Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed to be quietly keening, and in that keen were weak cries for help.

Lin Qiushi rushed inside the bathroom, calling out, "Zhu Meng, Zhu Meng, are you alright?!"

He wanted to open the stall door, but found that it was locked. He fished out his tools in a hurry, and popped the lock on the stall in a couple of swift motions.

Once the door was open, he could see inside. There was nobody there. Beside the toilet, there was a black wooden chest. There was no lock on it—it could be opened with a simple lift.

But Ruan Nanzhu's voice was coming from inside the chest.

Lin Qiushi's face darkened. Many thoughts turned over in his mind as he hurried over to the chest.

"Zhu Meng! Zhu Meng! Is that you in there?"

He knew that Ruan Nanzhu wasn't someone who would just open a chest, but the world of the doors was full of peculiar circumstances. He feared that Ruan Nanzhu had encountered some sudden situation and was dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

"Zhu Meng!" Lin Qiushi began hitting the chest calling, "are you inside? Say something—"

"Help me…Please help me…" Ruan Nanzhu's voice was getting weaker and weaker, as if it was going to fade away at any moment. "Please help me…"

It had only been a few minutes, but there was already a sheen of cold sweat on Lin Qiushi's forehead. He stared at the lid of that chest and swallowed, hard, before asking in a raspy voice, "what's my name? Tell me, what's my name outside the door—"

"Linlin, save me…" was how Ruan Nanzhu responded to Lin Qiushi's question.

Upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's answer, Lin Qiushi released a violent breath. He pressed his hear to that chest and listened as that thing inside keep calling his name in Ruan Nanzhu's voice.

"Linlin, Linlin, save me…Linlin, it hurts…Linlin…"

After staring at that chest for a while, Lin Qiushi turned and left the stall. Then he began going stall to stall, knocking down the row.

Very soon, one of the stall doors opened at his knock. Inside was Ruan Nanzhu with his skirt lifted up, and his expression as he looked at Lin Qiushi was strange.

"Linlin, what are you doing?"

Lin Qiushi looked at his face, and without saying anything, walked in and wrapped him up tightly in a hug.

After a moment's shock, Ruan Nanzhu returned the hug.

"What happened?"

Lin Qiushi, "I've learned what the change is."

Ruan Nanzhu, "hm?"

Lin Qiushi said, "the Hako Onna's power…False Answers." He glanced at a certain stall. "The Hako Onna can imitate people's voices and call for help from inside the chest."

Affection disturbed the mind; the moment something happened to someone you cared for, you were no longer in the state of mind to contemplate the logic of the situation. And once you'd actually opened the chest, there was no longer time for regret.

"What did you hear?" Ruan Nanzhu instantly got an answer from Lin Qiushi's words and expression. "You heard me calling for help inside the chest?"

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "Fortunately, you don't like to call me Linlin on the outside."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "I didn't hear anything. It seems the two people from last night were tricked like this."

"Mh," Lin Qiushi said. "They must have a good relationship outside the doors."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "you said just now that the Hako Onna cried inside this room, right?"

Lin Qiushi nodded.

"Then we can confirm her location." Ruan Nanzhu was thinking out loud. "There must be conditions restricting her movement, or we wouldn't be able to open the chests at all.”

If there were no restrictions, then that meant the moment you chose a chest to open, the Hako Onna could move to the chest before you.

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "So we can confirm the Hako Onna's in this room…But two people died last night."

That meant there were two additional Hakobito inside the house, and they were in unknown chests.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "let's get them to confirm it with the stethoscope."

Lin Qiushi, "the stethoscope's with the newbie that Wei Xiude brought in."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded. "Mh, I know. Let's go talk to them first, so this item doesn't go to waste."

The stethoscope must have changed as well. As for how, they didn't yet know.

Author's Note:

The strongest players pretty much won't ever bump up against each other, because they typically have their own hints for their own doors. The rest of the spots are divvied up among people without hints, so those people are weaker in comparison. Emmmm personally I think getting your hint out first thing would be catching the Idiot Ball? Everybody's basically your competition, and there's only one super important hint to the next door. Ruan Nanzhu would never go in a door and immediately announce he has a hint and attract everybody's attention like that.

Translator’s Note:

Many thanks to this YouTuber for giving me this split-second screengrab of the English name for “False Answers” ‘cause I couldn’t find it in the rulebook PDF...

Names in this chapter

Sūn Yuánzhōu / Sun(1) Yuan(2) Zhou(1) / 孫元洲

Wèi Xīudé / Wei(4) Xiu(1) De(2) / 魏修德

this bastard's name translates literally to "one who practices ethics" lmao

Xiǎo Jì / Xiao(3) Ji(4) / 小薊

[Ch. 107] | [Ch. 109]

[petri808]

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2

—

The moment Lucy left the room, Natsu simply turned and gave a silent look to his lieutenant Gray who nodded back in acknowledgment and left with one of the men. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled below his chin in thought. Could it really be one of his own men? Some of the lower level guys didn’t always follow the rules, but it was rare for them to utterly disregard them! Oh! That really pissed him off, because they knew better then to test Natsu’s patience. There’s a damn good reason he was able to create such a lucrative gang in the heart of Tokyo when so many others would kill for it. By the age of 21, his father retired and left the position of Oyabun leader to Natsu. But, Natsu wasn’t satisfied with the old way of doing things. This was the 21st century and times must change.

It was well known that the Yakuza traversed a dangerous underworld full of illegalities. Drugs, prostitution, gambling, shake downs and extortion, theft, or in other words the seedier side of society. So that is where Natsu focused his attention. Some of the very first of the changes were to reign in unauthorized violence or any crimes that utilized it. Such a move sent a utter shockwave through the order and those that refused to let go of the old ways were swiftly eliminated to instill an image of power and fear that Natsu Dragneel was not to be messed with. His logic behind the move was simple. Do not do anything that brings attention to the gang and attacking someone on the street for a few yen is a quick way for the authorities to show up. So, in a way, Natsu was lucky it happened to be one of Lucy’s employees and not a random person, because they would have immediately called the police. Though it also brought up another question. Were there other crimes he just hadn’t heard of yet?

“Well, she’s still as feisty as ever, gihi.” Gajeel broke the silence of the room when he returned. “Could’ve cut the sexual tension with a sword.”

Natsu crossed his arms in feigned annoyance. If it were any other underling, they would have received a harsher response, but Gajeel was one of his oldest and trusted friends. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s a rival, that’s it. You know that.”

“Mmhmm.” Gajeel snickered. “So, now what?”

“Gray started working on finding who it was. I want you to call your contacts at police and see if they’ve had any reports of recent robberies in the area, and if there were, any details we can use to figure out who it might be.”

“Can do boss. Anything else?”

“You think it could one of our own?”

Gajeel looked up for a couple of minutes as if he were running their personnel through his mind. Finally, he rubbed his chin. “There’s a couple of newbies, a bit young and dumb that might be stupid enough to break the rules. I’ll call my contacts first before helping Gray press the men for info. Someone’s gotta know something.”

“Good. You do that and let me know as soon as you get a lead. I want this dealt with as quickly as possible.”

“Gotcha.”

Between Natsu’s two lieutenants and their best men, they interviewed all of the most likely suspects. Gajeel’s police informant let him know that there were a couple other robberies that sounded similar a few blocks away from where Lucy’s employee and client had been accosted. He also learned those two victims gave a similar description of the robber. With the new information, along with other snitches, they narrowed it down within a few days to a low-level street guy in the organization. But unlike Gajeel’s initial hunch, it wasn’t one of the newbies. Instead, the male had been with them for a couple of years now and never caused any problems. In fact, the guy fashioned himself as a smooth talking ladies’ man who supposedly disliked violence. So, it was a bit surprising it was one of the ones they’d least expected.

Gajeel and his men found the man named Bora Prominence laying low at his girlfriend’s apartment after he’d heard the gang was looking for him. Not the smartest move. The woman gave him up without a fight, fearing the Yakuza more than her boyfriend. So, once she’d let them inside, they quickly found Bora hiding in the bathroom and dragged him out.

“It wasn’t me!” Bora screamed as the men beat him to the floor. “You got no proof I did shit!”

Gajeel planted his foot into the small of the man’s back and held him down. “Two of the witnesses saw the tattoo on your face. That’s enough evidence for us.” He growled. “You knew the code and what would happen if you broke it, so stop being a bitch.”

But Bora continued to resist the four men, pushing off the floor with his arms unsuccessfully against Gajeel’s massive weight or fending off kicks from the others. They pummeled him with fists and kicks over and over until one clear blow finally knocked him unconscious long enough to be tied up. Despite a heavy beating bad enough to leave him bruised and bloodied, he continued to scream about his innocence. Back at headquarters, they dragged him into Natsu’s office with hands bound behind his back and forced him onto his knees.

The room held Natsu sitting at his desk, along with both lieutenants, four of their men keeping Bora restrained, and lastly Lucy with the victim to Natsu’s right side. He had contacted her as soon as he knew the suspect was being brought in. And thought they were pretty certain of guilt, the woman’s immediate reaction when they’d brought Bora in of cringing back and moving closer to her boss spoke volumes.

“Is that him?” Natsu questioned to gain a verbal confirmation.

“Y-Yeah,” the woman squeaked out. “He’s the one who pushed me down and robbed us.”

Natsu’s eyes stayed narrowed and glaring at Bora as he addressed the women. “Thank you, that’ll be all. Heartfilia you both can leave now I’ll handle things from here.”

“You’re a doll,” Lucy giggled and gave Natsu a quick teasing peck on the cheek before ushering her employee away. They’d done what they needed to do, now it was his job to finish it.

“Tch, so that’s what this is all about.” Bora sneered, spitting out a clot of blood. “Cause that bitch got you all worked up over a measly few bucks?”

“Watch it!” Natsu roared. “It ain’t a good idea to piss me off anymore then I already am!” There was a fire burning behind Natsu’s stare because when he looked at this man Bora, he doesn’t see the crimes themselves, but the disobedient threat he posed to their organization. How dare this selfish ignorant punk threaten everything they’ve worked hard to build! And to accuse him of weakness in doing Lucy’s bidding just sealed the man’s fate.

Bora snapped back defiantly, though the crack in his tone gave away the fear brewing beneath. “What does it matter, I know what awaits me.”

“You’re right.” Natsu relaxed back into his chair once he sensed the man’s inevitable compliance. “You knew the consequences for crossing me. What does it matter if my rival is also benefiting in this way? Because I know there are other victims. Dumbass, how do you think we linked you to all this? Those other victims reported it to the police! Which is exactly why I have the rules I have in place! You put all of us in jeopardy by pulling this kind of stupid low level bullshit!”

“Pfft, you act like we’re saints. If the cops really wanted to, they’d look into the other illegal shit we do regardless.”

“No, it’s you who fails to recognize there is a hierarchy to the kinds of crimes that bring heat on us. Drugs? Prostitution? The cops don’t care as much, but assault? Robbing people, murders, now those are things they will pay attention to, and I will not tolerate it!” Natsu sat forward with a malevolent grin. “Welcome to the modern Yakuza.”

Drugs and prostitution were a part of the gangs dealings, but the bigger scheme was in shaking down the local business owners for protection money. Thing is, Natsu’s gang actually did the protection part causing crimes in that area for customers or businesses to drop down to nearly zero. So, while the business owners weren’t thrilled to cut a portion of their profits, they also appreciated not having to worry about security. That and because of the gangs connections, they had pipelines of cheaper priced products which helped to keep their costs down. This more symbiotic relationship is why they didn’t go to the authorities and why the gang could hold such a control over the area. Making sure the areas streets were protected from violent crime is a testament to the gangs power and would insure that these businesses stayed compliant.

“Tch.” Bora retorted. “You’re just young and dumb. Eventually you’ll realize there’s a reason why things were done a certain way in the old days.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but your days of worrying about it are over.” Natsu motioned to Gajeel. “I’m done. Get him out of my face.”

Gajeel then motioned to his men to haul Bora to his feet and drag him away to an unknown destination never to be seen from again. Cliche as it may sound, even in killing off a problem like Bora, Natsu’s gang didn’t follow tradition. Bora would be held as a prisoner until his wounds healed then his death made to look like just another suicide statistic. In the seven years that Natsu has reigned, not one murder had been laid at their doorstep and he intended to keep it that way.

Now that the Bora business was over, Natsu closed his eyes and fully relaxed into his chair with a sigh. He didn’t exactly enjoy playing the tough guy bit and only did it out of necessity. This was a life his father groomed him for since birth, but he’d love nothing more than to just settle down with a wife and start a family of his own. Not that he couldn’t already do so, but that required finding the right woman to settle down with and no one other than his old flame has ever evoked I’m him more than a passing glance.

He didn’t know how long he’d been relaxing when there was a knock on his office door. “Yeah? Come in.”

“Sorry to disturb you,” the man spoke as he quietly entered the room. Invel Yura was Natsu’s Saiko-kamon, the top advisor and managed the administrative side of the organization. “I wanted to go over your schedule for tomorrow in case I need to make any changes.”

“It’s fine.” Natsu gestured to the chair fronting the desk. Invel had been the advisor to his father for the last few years of his tenure and he fully trusted the man’s diligence.

Invel sat down and opened up a calendar. “Tomorrow morning, we have a new shipment of prescription drugs coming in as well as some ecstasy, so you’ll need to appoint someone to oversee inventory processing.”

“Hmm, who should I have work on this?” Natsu asked for Invel’s opinion.

“Might I suggest Rajeel Ramal? He’s gruff but meticulous and has done a good job so far.”

“Is that so? Then that’s fine, let him continue. What’s next?”

“Okay,” Invel scribbled the orders in his book. “Next, the only other thing you have is a party to attend with one of our high end clients.”

“Which one?”

“The son of Yuuji Katsunuma of Katsunuma industries.”

“Ah yes, the one we supply with cocaine. Such a spoiled brat, but he spends a lot with us.”

Invel chuckled. “That’s the one. It starts at 8pm.”

“Okay. Thank you, Invel. Is that all for now?”

“Yes. If anything, else comes up I will let you know.”

“I’m sure you will. Oh. Have an appropriate suit pressed and ready for me for the occasion.”

“Very well, sir. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. You may go.”

Invel nodded and returned to his own office. He made a few typical phone calls such as to Natsu’s house staff regarding an evening outfit and the transporters bringing the morning inventory to make sure everything was on schedule. Aside from the Bora issue, the going’s-on of business continued as normal. The final call he placed before he’d leave for lunch was to Rajeel of a simple a five word instruction. Nothing more needed to be said, knowing that his associate would understand. Invel sat back in his chair with a smile. “It’s almost too easy…”

[feelingofcontent]

I briefly posted my thoughts on the design of the YWGTTN and a couple high-level thoughts on the book itself, but I thought I’d share a few more specific thoughts, first on the mental health content of the book. 

I was pretty unfamiliar with the majority of the concepts discussed prior to reading YWGTTN. So for me, this was a great introduction. I could see how it might be pretty surface-level for someone who was already familiar with the concepts though.

I also loved the practical exercises and easy ways to apply things to your own life. I honestly can’t stand reading really theoretical self-help (or anything too theory-heavy). So I loved the focus on the practical! There are a few things discussed that I do really struggle with, so it has been nice to try to apply the practical advice to those parts of my life and see if it works for me.

Also more personally, I have someone close to me that has been struggling significantly with their mental health recently and started attending therapy. YWGTTN helped give me a better foundation for supporting them and a “shared language” to use when talking with them about mental health.

These are some of the concepts and exercises that stood out to me the most. This is probably more for me than anyone, but I’d love to hear if anyone else resonated with some of these same things, or what your thoughts were on YWGTTN in general! (Spoilers below the break.)

“It is possible to cruise through life suffering, if we don’t understand that it isn’t necessary to feel that way.” (p. 31) – Oof. This early quote hit me hard, as a reminder that you don’t always know what people are suffering with because they seem to be moving through life just fine. And as a reminder that their are some things in my own life that I just ‘put up with’ even though they make me feel bad...and that shouldn’t be the case.

Blame evolution (p. 40) – I really appreciated the discussion of how a lot of the responses we have and our brains’ evolution was to keep us safe, but now we’re not under the same threats. I liked the framing of ‘you don’t control your thoughts’ with the scientific backing.

“The best thing is to simply accept that our weird minds are just like this...” (p. 48) – I don’t know why reframing the idea of intrusive thoughts like this worked for me, but it really really did. It’s like an excuse, but true?

Key thoughts to lock in your mind during a crisis (p. 57) – I’m printing this page out and sticking it on my desk.

Exercise: Abdominal Breathing (p. 65) – I’ve been using this literally every night when I’m laying in bed and trying to fall asleep. It’s been helping a lot with that.

The anxiety equation (p. 81) – I had never seen this before and I actually love math so this one spoke to me. It’s been a good way for me to more realistically think about how bad (or not) something actually is.

“Procrastination is about fear. Fear that the task ahead of you will be difficult, that it will be overwhelming, that you might fail.” (p. 100) – It’s me. I’m definitely somewhat of a procrastinating perfectionist like Dan is. This whole section about how to address that with the simple “five minute rule” for getting started on something is pretty much how this post got written, lol.

“when we feel low we remember and emphasise the other times we feel low, and when we fell good we tend to connect positive memories...” (p. 113) – Why is this not a thing I’ve realized before? It’s a helpful perspective to have when considering how I’m feeling in a moment.

Clock-blocking (p. 146) – I felt called out again; I look at the clock way too much when I can’t sleep. I’ve been trying not to do that and doing the breathing exercise instead.

“...but you can notice the emotional benefits of just a bit of movement straight away.” (p. 172) – Hello, me trying to stand up more while working and take a walk every day (and to stop thinking about losing those 10 pounds).

“It’s not that we view other people simply as tools to give us what we want, but actually it kind of is exactly like that” (p. 181) – This is certainly an interesting way of framing social relationships. I like what he discusses about how different relationships can serve different purposes in your life and that not everyone has to be everything.

“I constantly feel like I’m inconveniencing people, even if I’m not asking something of them.” (p. 185) – I’m so bad at keeping in touch with people and I think this is why. I never want to make a decision that affects someone else or “bother” them. Gotta take that first step though.

“If you’ve withdrawn from friends and lost touch with people, it doesn’t mean you can’t reach out and reconnect with them.” (p. 188) – Yep, needed that due to the above.

“If you really want to help others the most, you need to be the best, most functional and productive version of you...” (p. 215) – I’m guilty of sometimes not taking good enough care of myself in order to help the people around me, for sure. Need this as a reminder to make time for me or I’ll end up being useless anyway.

“It should be all of our missions, in more ways than just mental health...to surpass our default programming, learn, grow, and become and honest and happy version of us, for ourselves and others.” (p. 234) – For me, this is a “you are not your upbringing” reminder, and a reminder that you can always learn and be better. Or to use an old YouTube reference from Vlogbrothers - DFTBA.

“A power we should all try to cultivate is the ability to sit with negative emotions. Not to run away from them, or suppress them, but to accept they are there and try to work with them, by looking for the thoughts behind the feelings.” (p. 273) – This is a long one, but stood out to me because I’m sometimes too good at just ignoring (or trying to ignore) bad feelings. It always comes back to bite me later, so the point about looking at the thoughts, which can actually be addressed in some way, was helpful for me.

“Protect your boundaries and don’t take on more than you can handle. Don’t agree to too much work, emotional responsibility, or cave in to demands you know you might not have energy for.” (p. 290) – I need this reminder almost daily. And even more than that, to remember to keep asserting myself even if people push back against the boundaries I’ve set.

“Life isn’t about judging ourselves for what we value and trying to fit in, it’s about learning what we truly want to do and be, and striving for it in order to feel fulfilled.” (p. 305) – This is what really resonated with me towards the end of the book, and kind of what everything else can build into. Though I’m still trying to figure out what really matters to me and then how to work towards that.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

((Note: If you’re a confused little muffin who saw our ship in the top 100 list and you want to know what in the ever loving fuck we are, feel free to dm me or mention me in a post or even to send an ask. do be warned tho that if u send me hate i will block and report u (and not just to tumblr, to everyone I know who is part of this fandom). our little sub fandom is not a toxic space and no one is allowed to make it one or there will be a fucking war))

And we’re back to our anxiety induced in denial Damian. I love this kid. Tho I do wanna make him slightly more… how do I say this… like cold? I dunno maybe I can bring that in with other people and his interactions. I just wanna write him with his proper grammar and what not and like lbh this boi is already a simp for Mari. But I don’t wanna let things happen too quickly, y’know?

Anyway, maybe I should make the theme of this chapter the fact that he has absolutely no chill. Lmao, I think that’s hilarious ngl. Also I’m just gonna pretend certain things existed back then for the sake of my sanity I can’t keep coming up with words that make sense for explaining what a thing is without saying the actual word because it didn’t exist yet. The hologram in that one chapter was hard enough bruh

Ok here we go, thanks for reading! I hope u enjoy it

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 7 – Chill

Previous

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Damian rolled the ring between his fingers as the morning light filtered through his windows. She’d put the choice in his hands, it was a kind thing to do, smart too. It made sense, if this role was as important as she made it sound it needed someone who could commit to it.

The miraculous was the kind of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It had a bright green paw print on it. He hadn’t put it on yet but from what he could gather it’s kwami would appear as soon as he put it on.

He'd be one of the leaders of an entire Order. He had no idea how big it was. His mother had raised him to lead but that was an entirely different organization. How would Marinette react to that? Could he handle the responsibility?

These thoughts had been plaguing him from the moment he picked up the ring.

But that wasn’t what got to him the most. She was just so… good. She had even agreed to move her entire court to Gotham for his sake. To uproot her entire life and move everyone involved just so that he could stay with his family.

There had to be a catch.

There always is.

He sighed, overthinking everything wasn’t going to help him make this decision.

There was only one thing he could do.

He put on the ring and a bright light caught him off guard. A small floating cat like being appeared in front of him.

“Kid?” he kept his eyes closed as though he didn’t want to see who was in front of him, his voice breaking slightly.

Slowly, the kwami – Plagg if he remembered correctly - opened his eyes. Damian stared at him as disappointment flitted across the creature’s face.

He lifted his brow and asked, “Hope to see someone else, Plagg?”

He chuckled slightly, sadness lacing the sound, “My previous holder, thought maybe I'd get the chance to say goodbye this time,”

Damian frowned, “What do you mean?”

Plagg frowned, “You don’t know about my previous holder? Who gave you my miraculous?”

“Marinette did,” he said, simply, “She actually just gave me the chance to consider the offer of the position, I have the rest of the day to get to know you and make my decision,”

Plagg seemed to consider what he said, he then sat down on the bed in front of Damian. He explained the basics of the miraculous to him, the phrases he needed to use as well as what those phrases would do. The things he’d need as well as what behaviors he might pick up.

“Purring?” Damian said in a disbelieving voice, “You’re telling me I might start purring in my civilian form?”

Plagg cackled, “Yeah, don’t worry it’s not that bad,”

“Tt, what exactly is the purpose of it? In fact what exactly is my purpose? It seems like she has the leadership thing under control,”

Plagg seemed to sober up at the question, he flew up right in front of Damian’s face and looked him in the eyes, “Her job is to lead and look after her court,” his look sharpened and he narrowed his eyes, “Your job is to look after her, your job is to protect her, your job is to see her. Your purpose is to make hers as easy as possible. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have other official responsibilities and you will rule alongside her, but your real job? Your purpose? You have to help her remember that she’s only human and that that’s okay,”

Damian stared at Plagg, the kwami stared back. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? There had to be something. Some kind of catch.

Before he could grill the kwami, Dick burst into his room.

Damian could see his brother’s clear panic and immediately stood. Dick’s eyes found his, “She’s gone,”

Damian felt himself spiral, memories flew through his mind. All the times he or any of his siblings had been taken. Cass didn’t speak for a month after the last incident. Jason’s “secret" panic attacks had increased tremendously. Tim stayed up for nights on end, only sleeping when he passed out. Damian sparred for hours and hours, hating the feeling of being useless. 

His father and Dick weren’t in Gotham at the time and Selina was helping Harley with one of her ‘projects’.

When they got Steph back after a week, she was so shook up that she kept waking up screaming from nightmares for months.

They all blamed themselves.

“Her kwami showed us a letter she left but someone could’ve faked it to buy time, they’re searching the village,” Jason said, coming into his room, holding a piece of parchment.

Damian barely registered the way Plagg seemed to study his reactions. They needed to find her, it was already afternoon, who knows how far gone she could be?

They spent hours scouring the castle. Before he knew it the moon was rising and they were all gathered in the living room, going over possibilities.

“I’m going to go get Alfred and Bruce, this has been going on long enough, it’s time to call in back up. It’s already passed nightfall and she’s not back yet,” Dick walked out of the room, barely two seconds passed before he shouted something to them, “Guys I found her!”

They were out quicker than a lightning bolt. He ignored his siblings as they all flocked around her. He took her in.

She was wearing a cloak, which Jason quickly took and gave to a passing maid. She wore one of her black dresses. Her hair was in a braid.

But the cloak was dirty, the dress had tears and the braid was messy.

But it was her eyes that got him. The blue irises looked like someone had taken every drop of sadness in the world and left it in them. They were red rimmed and puffy and there were black bags under them.

She’d been crying and she hadn’t slept. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Somewhere along the line, they moved back into the living room. Cass was sitting next to Marinette on the couch and the others were arguing.

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was here. She was safe. She wasn’t taken.

Cass tapped his arm, he turned to look at her and she started signing. (a/n ok yeah I know that sign language might not have existed but do I really care?)

Get her out of here, she’s tired, Cass signed.

Damian nodded and after asking her permission and scolding his siblings, he escorted her to her room.

Plagg whispered something to her that he couldn’t hear. 

Then she apologized for scaring him and he explained his thought process. She explained that he would’ve been able to know via their miraculous whether she was in trouble or not. He made a mental note to ask Plagg more about that.

When they got to her room he opened her door. She was about to go in but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked at him expectantly. He searched her gaze, he had so much he wanted to ask her, why she’d been crying was at the top of that list.

But she looked so tired, and Damian just couldn’t get himself to form the words. Instead he bid her goodnight and went back to the living room where his siblings were waiting.

All eyes turned to him when he entered. He didn’t know what to say. Instead of thinking his words through he blurted out the first thing he thought.

“She didn’t flinch when our eyes met,” he said. They all stared at him for a few seconds. Usually they would’ve laughed at his bluntness, Damian is certain, but there was something about the haunted look on her face that sapped all humor out of the situation.

Jason was crouched in front of the fire. Stephanie sat on one of the chairs while Dick leaned against its armrest. Damian was next to Cassandra on the couch and the five of them sat in silence.

Millions of questions danced through the air, the answers all just out of reach.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones with questions.

Outside, three pairs of eyes were watching the oblivious siblings closely.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine and turned towards the window. He walked over and stared out into the forest, he didn’t see anyone but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave him.

He closed the curtains.

The smallest of the three chuckled slightly, “She got herself a paranoid one, huh?”

“We need to head back,” the only guy out of the three said to the others.

They nodded and followed him deeper into the forest.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt @fusser90

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Sweethearted Security

(Nines x Reader)

A/N: here's sum good ol fluff for the hardass we all love. I was gunna say sorry if its ooc but then i remembered he doesn't have a canon personality lmao

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You were the adopted child of a very wealthy and highly powerful family. Normally any other family of your status would keep that little secret hidden at all costs. However your parents were quite public and open about the idea. It made the public think they were generous people. Again, unlike other families like your own, they actually were good people.

However kind they were, they still managed to acquire enemies of their own. Most of them being jealous of your families success. So naturally, you and your family were in constant danger with threats of assassinations. Your life moreso than your parents, considering you were the heir to the family wealth and also the perfect bargaining chip.

After the attempt on your life that nearly succeeded, your parents set out on a mission to find you the best body guard money could buy. And the best they got indeed. With enough promises of donating extreme amounts of money to the DPD, the captain finally gave in. Now, your family was the proud owner of your very own RK900 android.

He wasn't exactly the gift you thought you'd recieve on your 18th birthday. Quite honestly you were scared of him, despite the fact his sole purpose was to protect you. But that fear of him only lasted a couple of months before you got used to him. He wasn't given a name so you decided to call him Conan, and if you didn't know any better you'd think liked that choice.

Now you were well in your 20's and yet your parents insisted on keeping him around for your sake. Not that you were arguing to get rid of him per say. You were actually quite fond of his presence. When he was around you knew you were basically untouchable. You even swore that he seemed to form a sort of personality too, something he'd deny if you asked.

Even though he was programmed to do whatever you asked him to do, you still did most things for yourself. You didn't want to use him, no matter how many times he tells you that he's just a machine. That wasn't the case in your mind. He was more of a person than most the people you've met at all the social gatherings your family forced you to. So you made it a rule to yourself to never treat him like a maid, and if you do, pay him for it. Not that he'd ever accept the money. At least you could say you tried.

However there was one exception to that rule, and that was when you were sick. Which happened to be in the predicament you were in now. You woke up in the morning with the classic sore throat and stuffy nose that  felt dry and yet was runny at the same time. In other words, you felt like absolute garbage.

The moment you left your room you greeted by Conan, as always. He took one look at you, seemingly scanning you, before narrowing his icy blue eyes.

"You're sick," he deadpanned.

"Yeah, no shit," you shot back, sarcasm evident in your nasally voice.

"Then you should be going back to bed to rest," he said, taking a step infront of you to block you from going anywhere else.

"Yeah well I need the bathroom so," you trailed off as you easily stepped around him.

You didn't have to look at him to know his eyes rolled at you. One of his signature actions you've noticed.

After tending to yourself in the bathroom you left said room and tried to head downstairs. Emphasis on tried.

"And where do you think you're going?" you heard from behind you, already all too familiar with the voice of your bodyguard.

"Going to make some coffee," you replied although it sounded more like a question.

"No you're not. You're going back to your bed to rest. I'll get you whatever you need," Conan said, more like demanded.

"Conan, we talked about this. I don't want you running around doing shit for me when I'm perfectly capable," you said with a long sigh.

"I'm aware. However you aren't 'perfectly capable' at the moment. Therefore I suggest going back to bed, otherwise I'll take you there myself," as he spoke his lip quirked up into a slight smirk, knowing he'd won.

"Conan..." you whined.

"(Y/n)," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm serious, I'm fine. I'll just get some coffee quick and then I'll-"

"As you wish," he suddenly cut you off before leaning down and carrying you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

"Conan!" you squeaked, causing a small cough to escape you.

"I did warn you, you decided not to listen," you could practically hear the smug smirk he wore as he carried you into your room and plopped you down on your bed.

"You know I hate it when you do that," you huffed, your mouth forming a pout.

"And you're aware that I don't really care," he sassed.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest childishly. When you met his eyes again you swear you saw a flicker of amusement in his usually hard steely hues.

"Now, if you're done being difficult. I'll go and make you a cup of herbal tea."

"But I want coffee," you whined, dragging out the 'e' sound for far too long.

"Herbal tea is healthier than coffee. It'll also help sooth your throat. Besides, you should really avoid ingesting excessive caffeine. Like you have been doing for the past several weeks," he spoke with the matter-of-fact tone he knew you hated.

Once again beating you in one of your many squabbles.

Sighing, you finally gave in,"Fine, whatever."

With that, Conan left the room to go fetch you your tea. He'd also make sure to bring back the bottle of cough syrup as well. He also had the thought of adding honey to your tea, for some added sweetness.

No one would ever be able to figure it out on their own, but Conan actually quite enjoyed taking care of you when you're ill. Or taking care of you in general. Being your protector. Of course, if you ever confronted him about it himself, he'd simply feign ignorance or straight out deny it. The good old 'just a machine' excuse. But that's all it was at this point, an excuse, because of you. Truth was over the years he had been at your side he had grown attached to you. He loved you, not that he actually realized it yet.

It took him much longer than his predecessor, Connor, to figure it out but he was capable of feeling. Of course, he still hasn't quite accepted the fact yet. Or show any signs of him being a deviant around anyone who isn't you. But hey, you just excited you saw even the slightest of signs really.

To everyone else he was still the same stone faced, emotionless, empty monster wearing humans skin. A machine ready to strike at a moments notice with no intentions of mercy upon anyone who dares face him. In many ways he still was that.

Conan liked to think he was able to keep that facade even infront of you, but you saw when that mask slipped. Hell, you knew he was capable of it even before he did. But to see it was something you'd never forget, and something you were excited to see more of. You of course never said anything about it though, wanting him to come to you when he's ready.

When he returned back to your room he was pleasantly surprised to see you laying in bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You actually listened to him. It wasn't a particularly rare thing for you to do and yet it made his biocomonants feel all fuzzy. It was a feeling he had grown to cherish only because it was caused by you.

Once you noticed the android enter your room you sat up and scooted back so your back was against the backboard. Conan held out the mug of tea and you gingerly took it. The mug was emanating a warmth that was just hot enough to not burn your hand. And you had to admit, the tea smelt pretty nice.

"There, I trust I won't have to force you to drink it?" he asked almost playfully.

"Yeah yeah I bet you'd love that wouldn't you," you smirked before blowing on the tea a couple of times.

You were just about to take a sip before Conan stops you as he pours a spoonful of the opposite of sugar, "Before you drink your tea you should take this."

Before you had the opportunity to take the spoon for yourself, Conan was already holding the spoon in front of your mouth. You felt your cheeks starting to flare up and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He only stared at you expectantly. Before he spoke up with some some snarky remark you quickly leaned closer to take the spoon in your mouth and swallow the syrup. When you leaned back you averted you eyes from him awkwardly.

"Now you can enjoy your tea," he chimed with satisfaction.

You quickly brought up the mug up to your face and gingerly took a sip. You'd hope that Conan would think the heat in your face was caused by the hot beverage and not because of him. Conan might have been new to the whole understanding human emotions thing, but he was by no means clueless. (Unlike his predecessor) He knew exactly what he was doing.

After taking your first taste you hummed at the pleasant sweetness. He must have added honey, your favorite. Your lips curled up into a small smile.

"Thanks Conan," you said sincerely, smiling up to him.

"Of course, (Y/n)," he replied with a slight bow of his head.

Your smile widened and paused just before taking another sip of your tea, "you're uh excused by the way."

With another nod Conan left your room. It wasn't long before he returned with an old paper book in hand, must have gotten it from your Dad's library. He then took a seat in a chair by your side on your right, opening to the page you assumed he left off. You never got why he liked to read books when he could probably download the whole thing in a matter of seconds. But you never spoiled his hobby. It was nice to watch as his striking blue-grey eyes glided across the paper. He almost looked at peace. Almost.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours and you immediately looked down into your mug. Your cheeks were darkening in embarrassment. It wasn't the first time he had caught you staring, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

"I recommend you try and sleep after you've finished. The more rest you get the faster you will recover," Conan said, cutting the growing awkward silence.

"Yeah, yeah," you waved him off, no longer having the energy to argue with him.

Conan's attention went back on his book, the tiniest of blink and you'll miss it smiles gracing his features. Meanwhile you tried to keep your attention on your phone as you slowly finished your tea. Emphasis on tried. But you just couldn't stop your eyes from glancing up at your favorite android. It wasn't your fault Cyberlife made him so perfect.

Eventually, you finished your tea and oddly enough you felt very tired. You placed the mug on the end table beside your bed before a yawn escaped you.

"You should rest," Conan said, not looking away from his book.

"You drugged me didn't you," you squinted at him, your lips pursing.

Conan looked over at you with a blank expression, "No, but if that's what it will require for you to rest then I will."

You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face and you rolled your eyes playfully. You knew he was only kidding and it wasn't an actual threat. Then again, maybe it wasn't. Either way, your soft chuckle at his maybe not joke made him feel nice.

"Sorry to spoil the fun but I think I'll pass," you said as you laid in bed and got yourself comfortable.

Conan only rolled his eyes at you before returning his attention back to his book.

Luckily the cough syrup was enough to allow you to easily fall asleep without any interruptions of coughing. You were out like a light for a good few hours. But as the medicine slowly wore off, your coughing became more frequent. You were also sniffling more often as well. It was when Conan heard soft whimpers fall past your lips when he set down his book and went to get you more cough syrup. He could have just waited until you officially woke up, but he didn't see the point in needlessly making you suffer longer than required.

Once he returned to your side, he gently shook your shoulder and softly called out your name. It didn't take more than a few moments before your (e/c) eyes fluttered open to meet his ice cold ones.

"Conan?" you mumbled sleepily.

"My apologies for waking you (Y/n), but I think it would be for the best if you took more cough medicine," he informed you slowly so your waking mind could understand.

You nodded in agreement and replied with a little, "okay."

You sat up slightly as he opened the bottle of the thick deep red liquid. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you tried not to think too much about the strong, very unpleasant, taste. At least it worked well. Just like before, Conan guided the spoon to your mouth but this time you didn't hesitate to take it.

"Good, now you can go back to sleep," Conan said, an almost tenderness to his voice you thought you imagined.

At his okay you plopped back down. Conan took this as his cue that he was excused but just as he turned to leave your side he stopped when he felt a tug on his jacket. Looking back, he raised a brow in question.

"Is there something you need, (Y/n)?" he inquired.

"Can you lay with me?" you asked, half asleep.

Conan didn't respond right away, he just stared down at you. At the lack of an answer a small frown tugged at your lips and you let him go, assuming his answer was no. So you layed back down, mumbling a short apology.

When you closed your eyes you heard a soft sigh, that you knew was unnecessary, before the mattress next to you dipped under new weight. Your eyes fluttered back open and you were delighted to see Conan laying next to you. He was watching you from the corner of his eye as you scooted closer to his form.

All you did was lay next to him for a short while, testing the waters. You honestly never thought he'd let you get this close to him. Let alone lay with you. It was nice. But you were becoming more sleepy and wanted maximum comfort. So, in a fleeting moment of bravery you shifted to rest your head and an arm on his chest.

Immediately you felt him tense underneath you, and you half expected him to push you off. But to your surprise, he placed a hand on your back and slowly traced up and down your spine. It was a comforting action that made you subconsciously snuggle up closer to him.

Conan never ceased his fingers that traced your spine, telling himself it was for you. Even when he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head, he told himself it was just to make you feel better. But when he ended up brining up his free hand to pet and play with your hair gently. It was hard to convince himself the action absolutely for his own enjoyment. After all, you had been asleep for at least five minutes at that point.

"Sleep well, my heart."

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A/N: short (at least by my standards) n sweet. Love to see it. But i feel like my writing is garbage. Like I feel like i keep using the same words and phrases n shit. If anyone could lemme know if im just overthinking it or not please leave a comment or dm me or something! Hope y'all enjoyed 💙