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meirmakesstuff · 4 years

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1/2 Hi Meir! I saw your answer on WWC, and since you mentioned you're professionals, I figured I'd ask directly: I'm writing a second world fantasy with a jewish coded people. I want to be clear in the coding but avoid the "if there's no egypt, how can there be passover?" so I called them Canaanites. I thought I was being clever by hinting in the naming that the whole region does exist, but I've since read that it might've been a slur in fact? Do you have any advice on this?

2/2 I did consider calling the group in question Jewish, but aside from how deeply Judaism is connected to the history of the Israelites, I haven't used any present-day real-world names for any other group, (I did use some historic names like Nubia). I feel like calling only one group of people by their currently used name would be othering rather than inclusive? Or am I overthinking this?

Okay so I want to start out with some disclaimers, first that although WWC recently reblogged an addition of mine to one of their posts, I am not affiliated with @writingwithcolor, and second that the nature of trying to answer a question like this is “two Jews, three opinions,” so what I have to say about this is my own opinion(s) only. Last disclaimer: this is a hard question to address, so this answer is going to be long. Buckle up.

First, I would say that you’re right to not label the group in question “Jewish” (I’ll get to the exception eventually), and you’re also right in realizing that you should not call them “Canaanites.” In Jewish scripture, Canaanites are the people we fought against, not ourselves, so that wouldn’t feel like representation but like assigning our identity to someone else, which is a particular kind of historical violence Jews continue to experience today. I’ll get back to the specific question of naming in a moment, but because this is my blog and not WWC, and you asked me to speak to this as an educator, we’re going to take a detour into Jewish history and literary structure before we get back to the question you actually asked.

To my mind there are three main ways to have Jews in second-world fantasy and they are:

People who practice in ways similar to modern real-world Jews, despite having developed in a different universe,

People who practice in ways similar to ancient Hebrews, because the things that changed us to modern Jewish practice didn’t occur, and

People who practice in a way that shows how your world would influence the development of a people who started out practicing like ancient Hebrews and have developed according to the world they’re in.

The first one is what we see in @shiraglassman‘s Mangoverse series: there is no Egypt yet her characters hold a seder; the country coded Persian seems to bear no relation to their observance of Purim, and there is no indication of exile or diaspora in the fact that Jews exist in multiple countries and cultures, and speak multiple languages including Yiddish, a language that developed through a mixture of Hebrew and German. Her characters’ observance lines up approximately with contemporary Reform Jewish expectations, without the indication of there ever having been a different practice to branch off from. She ignores the entire question of how Jews in her universe became what they are, and her books are lyrical and sweet and allow us to imagine the confidence that could belong to a Jewish people who weren’t always afraid.

Shira is able to pull this off, frankly, because her books are not lore-heavy. I say this without disrespect--Shira often refers to them as “fluffy”--but because the deeper you get into the background of your world and its development, the trickier this is going to be to justify, unless you’re just going to just parallel every historical development in Jewish History, including exile and diaspora across the various nations of your world, including occasional near-equal treatment and frequent persecution, infused with a longing for a homeland lost, or a homeland recently re-established in the absolutely most disappointing of ways.

Without that loss of homeland or a Mangoverse-style handwaving, we have the second and third options. In the second option, you could show your Jewish-coded culture having never been exiled from its homeland, living divided into tribes each with their own territory, still practicing animal, grain, and oil sacrifice at a single central Temple at the center of their nation, overseen by a tribe that lacks territory of their own and being supported by the sacrifices offered by the populace.

If you’re going to do that, research it very carefully. A lot of information about this period is drawn from scriptural and post-scriptural sources or from archaeological record, but there’s also a lot of Christian nonsense out there assigning weird meanings and motivations to it, because the Christian Bible takes place during this period and they chose to cast our practices from this time as evil and corrupt in order to magnify the goodness of their main character. In any portrayal of a Jewish-coded people it’s important to avoid making them corrupt, greedy, bigoted, bloodthirsty, or stubbornly unwilling to see some kind of greater or kinder truth about the world, but especially if you go with this version.

The last option, my favorite but possibly the hardest to do, is to imagine how the people in the second option would develop given the influences of the world they’re in. Do you know why Chanukah is referred to as a “minor” holiday? The major holidays are the ones for which the Torah specifies that we “do not work:” Rosh Hashannah, Yom Kippur, and the pilgrimage holidays of Sukkot, Passover, and Shavuot. Chanukah developed as a holiday because the central temple, the one we made those pilgrimages to, was desecrated by the invading Assyrian Greeks and we drove them out and were able to re-establish the temple. That time. Eventually, the Temple was razed and we were scattered across the Roman Empire, developing the distinct Jewish cultures we see today. The Greeks and Romans aren’t a semi-mythologized ancient people, the way the Canaanites have been (though there’s increasing amounts of archaeology shedding light on what they actually might have been like), we have historical records about them, from them. The majority of modern Jewish practice developed from the ruins of our ancient practices later than the first century CE. In the timeline of Jewish identity, that’s modern.

The rabbinic period and the Temple period overlap somewhat, but we’re not getting into a full-scale history lesson here. Suffice it to say that it was following the loss of the sacrificial system at the central Temple that Judaism coalesced an identity around verbal prayer services offered at the times of day when we would previously have offered sacrifices, led each community by its own learned individual who became known as a rabbi. We continued to develop in relationship with the rest of the world, making steps toward gender equality in the 1970s and LGBT equality in the 2000s, shifting the meaning of holidays like Tu Bishvat to address climate change, debating rulings on whether one may drive a car on Shabbat for the sake of being with one’s community, and then pivoting to holding prayer services daily via Zoom.

The history of the Jews is the history of the world. Our iconic Kol Nidrei prayer, the centerpiece of the holiest day of the year, that reduces us to tears every year at its first words, was composed in response to the Spanish Inquisition. The two commentators who inform our understanding of scripture--the ones we couldn’t discuss Torah without referencing even if we tried--wrote in the 11th and 12th centuries in France and Spain/Egypt. Jewish theology and practice schismed into Orthodox and Reform (and later many others) because that’s the kind of discussion people were into in the 19th century. Sephardim light Chanukah candles in an outdoor lamp while Ashkenazim light Chanukah candles in an indoor candelabrum because Sephardim developed their traditions in the Middle East and North Africa and the Ashkenazim developed our traditions in freezing Europe. There are works currently becoming codified into liturgy whose writers died in 2000 and 2011.

So what are the historical events that would change how your Jewish-coded culture practices, if they don’t involve loss of homeland and cultural unity? What major events have affected your world? If there was an exile that precipitated an abandonment of the sacrificial system, was there a return to their land, or are they still scattered? Priority one for us historically has been maintaining our identity and priority two maintaining our practices, so what have they had to shift or create in order to keep being a distinct group? Is there a major worldwide event in your world? If so, how did this people cope?

If you do go this route, be careful not to fall into tropes of modern or historical antisemitism: don’t have your culture adopt a worldview that has their deity split into mlutiple identities (especially not three). Don’t have an oppressive government that doesn’t represent its people rise up to oppress outsiders within its borders (this is not the first time this has occurred in reality, but because the outside world reacts differently to this political phenomenon when it’s us than when it’s anyone else, it’s a portrayal that makes real-life Jews more vulnerable). And don’t portray the people as having developed into a dark and mysterious cult of ugly, law-citing men and beautiful tearstreaked women, but it doesn’t sound as if you were planning to go there.

So with all that said, it’s time to get back to the question of names. All the above information builds to this: how you name this culture depends on how you’ve handled their practice and identity.

Part of why Shira Glassman’s handwaving of the question of how modern Jewish practice ended up in Perach works is that she never gives a name to the religion of her characters. Instead, she names the regions they come from. Perach, in particular, the country where most of the action takes place, translates to “Flower.” In this case, her Jewish-coded characters who come from Perach are Perachis, and characters from other places who are also Jewish are described as “they worship as Perachis do despite their different language” or something along those lines (forgive me, Shira, for half-remembering).

So that’s method one: find an attribute of your country that you’d like to highlight, translate it into actual Hebrew, and use that as your name.

Method two is the opposite: find a name that’s been used to identify our people or places (we’ve had a bunch), find out what it means or might mean in English, and then jiggle that around until it sounds right for your setting. You could end up with the nation of the Godfighters, or Children of Praise, The Wanderers (if they’re not localized in a homeland), The Passed-Over, Those From Across The River, or perhaps the people of the City of Peace.

Last, and possibly easiest, pick a physical attribute of their territory and just call them that in English. Are they from a mountainous region? Now they’re the Mountain People. Does their land have a big magical crater in the middle? Craterfolk. Ethereal floating forests of twinkling lights? It’s your world.

The second option is the only one that uses the name to overtly establish Jewish coding. The first option is something Jews might pick up on, especially if they speak Hebrew, but non-Jews would miss. The third avoids the question and puts the weight of conveying that you’re trying to code them as Jewish on their habits and actions.

There’s one other option that can work in certain types of second-world fantasy, and that’s a world that has developed from real-world individuals who went through some kind of portal. That seems to me the only situation in which using a real-world name like Jews, Hebrews, or Israelites would make sense. Jim Butcher does this with the Romans in the Codex Alera series, and Katharine Kerr does it with Celts in the Deverry cycle. That kind of thing has to be baked into the world-building, though, so it probably doesn’t help with this particular situation.

This is a roundabout route to what I imagine you were hoping would be an easier answer. The tension you identified about how to incorporate Jewishness into a world that doesn’t have the same history is real, and was the topic of a discussion I recently held with a high school age group around issues of Jewish representation in the media they consume and hope to create. Good luck in your work of adding to the discussion.

#Ask #kermab #Meir Makes Stuff #Writing #jewish representation #Fantasy Writing #fantasy fiction #Mangoverse #Meir Makes Long Posts

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sidespromptblog · 3 years

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Between the Mask: Part 2

One, Three, and End

Warning: Plenty of tears from all parties, angst, Janus has a momentary panic episode, and Logan has a mental break down.

Summary: Roman confronts Janus about how exactly Roman should act around him, after being told by the others that being both nice and mean to him is wrong. Only to discover that after everything he’s been through, Janus isn’t the person that he portrays in front of everyone else.

Word Count: 4303

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A strange kind of vigor filled Roman’s chest as he moved towards Logan’s room, a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline danced around his heart the closer that he got. A part of him was nervous about possibly bumping into Patton or Virgil, and having to answer the inevitable questions that would eventually arise when they put two and two together about where exactly he was going and where he was coming from. With Janus’ face still fresh in his mind, Roman felt a sense of protective unease at the thought of Patton and Virgil forcing their way into the safety of his room. Because, the one thing that he certainly did not want to answer was that question and the secrets that it entailed, especially because, despite how Janus may have started to become accepted he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for everyone to know about the real Janus just yet.

Especially not without his consent.

And Roman would damned before he broke the fragile trust he had just now built between him and Janus, especially after everything he had initially done wrong between the two of them.

He would guard Janus’ secret like a lion.

“Logan?” Roman whispered as he stood before the simplistic blue door that lacked any distinguishing characteristics, “Logan, I… I know that you’re there.” He winced at his casual tone, given everything the last thing he should be is casual with Logan.

He couldn’t help but to cringe at the vivid memory of himself so carelessly pressing the ignorance button, when Logan had only wanted to do his best and educate Thomas, Patton, and him.

He’d been rather rude, even if he had only meant it jokingly.

A deep sigh rumbled his chest as he forced himself to take a step back from it all, moaning and whining would get him nowhere. Logan had always responded to clear and decisive wording, not emotional blithering and most certainly not sing-songy language.

He needed to speak Logan’s language rather than trying to get across with his own. “Logan, if you’re even listening to me… I want you to know that I.. I see you.” Roman softly began, so much for no emotional language. “I see how much you’ve had to sacrifice for the sake of my and Thomas’ dreams to be a reality. I see how much you’ve had to change while the rest of us gets to stay the same. And…” Here he took a deep breath, pushing down the pride that had always gotten in the way of these apologies. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, and.. and I’m sorry for how much I’ve made you sacrifice and just how much you’ve suffered because of it. I’m sorry for hurting you, in every way that I ever have.”

Roman hadn’t even noticed it when he had started to spew out his apologies, but the moment they started the sight in front of him clouded over with tears that he refused to let fall. The knowledge that he’d been not only a bad friend, but also a bad protector, hit him like a punch to the chest. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, but in the end it always felt like no matter what he tried to do, he had always done the opposite. It was like that with Virgil, when he had tried to protect Thomas from the bad thoughts. It had happened with Patton, when he had constantly tried to keep him happy. It had happened with Janus, and now… now it was happening with Logan all over again.

“I’m sorry too…” Came a soft but equally hoarse voice from the other side of the door, “I’m not a very good logic… no matter how hard I try to be. If I was good, then maybe-”

“No!”

Roman’s hands slapped desperately against the door before he even had a chance to think about it, letting silence reign after his outburst. Shaking his head roughly to the point that his usually pristinely styled hard flopped onto his forehead in a mess of curls, Roman pressed the palms of his hands even harder against the door. The last thing that he wanted was for Logan to blame himself for any of this, it wasn’t anybody's fault for how things turned out.

It just happened, that’s why it was called an accident.

“Logan,” He sternly whispered, forcing himself to keep his voice down. “You don’t have to change, you don’t. Not for Thomas, not for the others, and most certainly not for me. Do you understand?” He felt like he was getting dangerously close to both crying, and digging his nails into the door in an effort to get through to Logan. “You don’t have to change for us, you never will. You can say that you don’t feel emotions, but I know you Logan. I’ve seen you smile, I’ve seen you address Thomas and the others as a class, and I’ve seen you happy Logan. Happy.” Roman’s head solidly thumped against the door. “You can still be happy… if you come with me.”

A long stretch of silence drifted between the two of them, before finally…

The blue door that Roman had been unleashing all of his feelings out onto, slowly eased open, almost making the creative side lose his footing before he swiftly regained it.

There stood Logan, huddled into himself wearing his unicorn onesie that Roman hadn’t seen since the day Logan had accidentally worn it during a video with Patton. The socks he was wearing clashed visibly with the pale blue of the onesie, with a garish orange that Roman didn’t dare to comment on. His tie was gone, and his glasses were neatly folded and tucked away into the collar of the onesie letting Roman see the logical side without his glasses for the first time.

He looked tired.

Especially with his eyes rimmed with red, evidence that Roman wasn’t the only one who had been close to crying. The alternative though… hurt Roman’s heart to much to even think about. The idea that all this time, while Roman had been wallowing in self angst, Logan had been crying with not a single soul to comfort him or tell him that it would be okay.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Logan’s eyes darted away, the vulnerability of the prolonged eye contact already too much for him. “Why do you want me to come with you?” He finally muttered, his fingers twitching and fiddling where his tie would usually be. “That’s usually the opposite of what you want from me.”

That was true too, in the past Roman had been almost obsessed with making Logan go away so that he could continue with his fanciful daydreams about just what Thomas could accomplish. He had never even considered how it might make Logan feel to be on the receiving end of all of that.

Roman’s arms itched to drag Logan into a hug, a hug that would wipe away every careless action he had ever done in his life. “Someone wants to see you.” He instead said, moving his hand to rest on Logan’s back, small steps after all… small steps. “He knows exactly how you feel… he’s had to change a lot of himself just to be listened to. And I think…. I think that we could all use the company if I’m being honest.”

Logan almost unconsciously leaned into the warmth of Roman’s hand. It had been more than a week since the last video, and at least a week since he had allowed himself to be around the others. Which meant none of the Patton’s hugs, none of Virgil’s awkward leans that happened to brush against him sometimes, and… no touch, in general.

“Why?”

The question left Logan’s mouth well before he was ready, but even so, despite the question he found himself walking with Roman back to wherever he had come from. He wanted to go, deep down he knew that he wanted to go. He wanted.. he wanted to finally be understood, he wanted…

To be cared about, without being laughed at and made fun of.

Roman’s smile was almost too easy and too knowing. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

That was good enough for Logan… for now.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked as he stopped dead in his tracks almost immediately upon entering Janus' room, seeing the dishonest side surrounded by a mound of peach colored yarn. But not before turning to Roman a look of utter befuddlement and uncertainty on his face, emphasizing his question that had still gone unanswered. "What is he doing? What's going on?"

Roman had to fight to keep down the snicker that so badly wanted to burst out of him at the sight of Logan’s confusion, it was such a rare sight for the logical side to be confused by anything. So try as he may, he quickly turned his laugh into a polite cough before looking over to Janus with obviously raised eyebrows. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he looked even more comfy and cozy than when he had first seen him. The reading glasses had been pushed further up his nose, giving him a more dignified look that was utterly swept away by the strings of yarn he had all around his fingers and looped loosely around his neck.

Two needles sat firmly in his hands, waiting to be used.

“I am attempting to learn how to knit,” Janus began with a begrudgingly embarrassed look at the mess around him, “It’s a lot harder to get down than crocheting is, especially with the two needles instead of one. I might need to get a few books, or look up a few videos to learn some more about the different styles.”

The eagerness in Janus’ voice was practically palpable by now, to the point where Logan squirmed where he was standing. The urge to offload several papers worth of information building inside of him like a geyser.

The only thing stopping him was…

This wasn’t Janus.

It couldn’t be Janus.

Janus was a sly worded, silver tongued snake. Who delighted in getting his way, and would go to great lengths just to get it. So this had to some kind of trick, like when he had taken over Patton’s form just to get Thomas to consider lying to Joan. This was just a ploy to get both Roman and him to his side, and against the others just like he had done with Roman during the trial that he had been… neglected from joining. He was just showing them this to get them to trust him, there was nothing else about it. Just…

Just trickery.

The excitement on Janus’ face faltered. “You.. you didn’t tell him?” He uttered softly, his eyes quickly darting from Logan’s face to Roman’s. A look of what could only be considered fear darted over his eyes, although fear over what Logan didn’t know. “You brought him here and you didn’t even tell him what he was going to be walking into?!”

Janus’ heart thudded heavily in his chest, as a feeling being far too exposed washed over him in waves.

Logan had seen him relaxed.

Logan had seen him as he usually was.

Logan had seen him without the walls that he’d meticulously built up for years.

Logan had seen him… Logan had seen him.

What if he told the others? What if he told Thomas? Logan wasn’t exactly known for telling lies, if anything blunt honesty was usually the way that the logical side went about his business. He could tell the others, and it would be no skin off of his nose. He would tell them.

He would tell them if he got the chance to, he definitely would.

His fingers hooked into the blankets surrounding him, gathering them around his shoulders as if they were an invisibility cloak that would shield him from the others’ gaze. Scrunching it around his shoulders and over his head, Janus felt the fire in the fireplace sputtering out as the terror continued to thrum in his veins. They wouldn’t listen to him anymore, they’d laugh at him, and Thomas would go right back to the habits that he’d tried so hard to avoid before.

Everything would be useless.

Janus.. Janus would be useless.

“Janus? Janus?” Janus’ mind snapped back to the present as he felt Roman’s gentle hands rocking him where he sat. “I’m sorry for not telling him beforehand, I figured that it would be easier if I were to bring him here and we could both explain everything to him.” Roman’s heart had frozen at the sight of utter terror that had crossed Janus’ face, well before the dishonest side had tucked himself away like a terrified squirrel under his little burrow. “I’m sorry for not making that clear before, do you.. do you want us to leave?”

Roman hoped not, he desperately and dearly hoped not.

But seeing Janus’ careful ragged breaths moving the blankets, he had no idea of what the final verdict would be this time. He wasn’t the judge, and Janus’ face was hidden so he had no idea of just what he’d say. He didn’t want to have to go, he didn’t want to leave Janus after everything he’d figured out about him. After… after the future that he’d promised to try and make for him and Logan.

“Roman,” Logan’s voice softened to almost a whisper as the logical side laid his hand on the creative side’s arm. “Give him a little space, it is likely that he’s just having a panic episode. Crowding him wouldn’t be the best option for him right now. Why don’t we sit and give him some breathing room?”

Leading Roman away from the other side, Logan guided him to a comfortable looking sofa that had been pushed against the wall. Once he’d had Roman seated, Logan settled in next to him. Casting his gaze from the fireplace that was steadily retaining its light and warmth, to the bookshelves that held endless amounts of knowledge in them. It was a very nice looking place, a sort of mix between what would have been Roman’s and his room had they decided to collaborate and make one for the both of them. It was very quaint and homey, if Logan had to use words those would be the exact ones he’d use to describe it.

Warm was another one.

“You don’t have to leave,” Janus finally uttered from his place hidden under the blankets, “I was just… shocked that Roman hadn’t told you, and.. and scared that…” Movement came from his giant pile, and two mismatched eyes looked back at Logan with a fair amount of uncertainty. “I was scared that you’d tell the others, and once they’d know, they’d never take my act in front of Thomas seriously, and they’d just… laugh anytime I needed him to take care of himself. I didn’t know how you’d react and well… I still want to be taken seriously, even if I happen to like being comfortable and not sneaky or sly.Do you.. do you understand?” Janus finally asked, tugging the edge of the covers down just a little bit more, and letting his hair poke out just a little.

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice, not a single octave or syllable even hinted that he didn’t understand exactly what Janus was feeling.

He knew.

He knew all too well.

A deep sigh tinged with regret fell from Logan’s lips as he finally stood up, making his way over to Janus’ side before plopping down in front of him. “I know exactly what you mean.” He muttered, distaste coloring his voice. “But…” He added just as quickly. “I don’t understand why Roman wanted me here, I understand if he wanted to share a secret. I’ll gladly keep it, Thomas and the others won’t hear a single thing from me. But... that doesn’t appear to be the case. So what exactly is going on?”

A glance was shared between Janus and Roman, one as quick as a fish in a stream, but one that Logan caught onto nonetheless.

Janus’ fingers fiddled with the ends of his knitting needles, while Roman tapped his feet together focusing on the sensation of the carpet fibers between his toes.

“Logan…” Roman began softly, “When was the last time you smiled?”

And just like that, it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Logan’s head. A seven worded question, that was all it had taken to send Logan’s mind to a screeching halt well before it had even started. His nails bit into the palms of his hands, and his lungs burned from the prolonged breath that he had forgotten to take as soon as Roman had prompted the question. Whatever he had been expecting from the both of them, this.. this was not it. The muscles in his legs itched to move, to take him far away from this feelingsy conversation and questions involved in it.

“I’m leaving.” Logan croaked after a minute of pure silence.

As soon as his legs moved to make him stand he almost wobbled, but weak or not his legs could at least carry him to the door.

But apparently not fast enough, as like a snake in the grass, Janus’ hand darted out wrapping around Logan’s wrist and preventing him from taking even a single step away from the other side.

The grip wasn’t strong, and if Logan’s had really and truly tried he could have broken away from it. “Logan, please.” Janus softly intoned, attempting to keep his gaze firmly on Logan, and not on Roman coming up behind the logical side to stop him from making a break for it. “When was the last time you felt happy enough to smile? Please Logan...”

Wordlessly Logan shook his head at the request, as he pathetically attempted to tug his hand out of Janus’ grip. Even with that though, he couldn’t make himself muster the force to break it. He knew what the answer was, but he also knew that he didn’t want to answer it because that would just be one more way that he had failed to keep emotions away from his logical fallacy. It would just be one more way that he had failed at his one and only job, just another tally. But even so…

Logan’s bottom lip trembled for a second, with a truth that burdened his body and mind. “I don’t know.” The whisper came out cracked and broken, just another way to make the side that it had come from.

And with that one little utterance, his knees finally caved sending him back onto the spot he had just risen from.

“I don’t know.” He repeated again, now feeling the frustrated tears prickling at his eyes like pollen in the spring. “Why can’t I remember?!” He angrily and yet wetly huffed, as he tried with all his might to scrape away the tears from his face before they could ever begin. “I must have! I know that I must have recently! But.. but I just can’t remember!” Logan’s entire body shuddered with the force of the sob that rolled through him a hurricane decimating the coast. His hands clasped at his hair, as his arms shielded his face from the only two sides that had ever seen him cry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried either, and try as he may… right now he couldn’t seem to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

Here there were no stupid songs forcing him to sing out whatever emotions he was having.

Here there were no Patton’s to make puns about his feelings.

Here he didn’t have to uphold the needlessly rough standards he had for himself in front of Thomas.

Here he didn’t just have to be logic.

Here… with Roman and Janus on both sides of him… he was safe.

So he cried, he cried until he felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. Until every emotion he’d ever felt came spilling out of him all at once, for what must have been hours upon hours. Until his head was resting on Janus’ knee while the other side gingerly ran his fingers through his hair, soothing the dry sobs right out of him. Until he felt Roman’s blisteringly warm hands resting firmly on his back, promising not to go anywhere. For the first time he felt safe enough to let out these emotions, as scary and unpredictable as they may be.

The hand on his back moved a little. “Logan,” Came Roman’s voice close to his back, “I don’t want any of us to have to hide like this again. Janus has been hiding and masking himself for years, so have you, and… I don’t want to do it. I never want to have to do it to feel like I have to survive. That’s why I brought you here, that why Janus let me show you his room. If.. if we want things to start changing for the better… we have to take the first step.”

Sniffling, Logan raised his head a little, looking back at Roman’s surprisingly serious face. He supposed that in a way that Roman was right, he hadn’t even been sure for how long he was going to keep his unfeeling and emotionless facade up or if it would just eventually become a part of himself if he let it go on for long enough. What would have happened if Roman had never gotten him out of his bedroom? If he’d just let Logan be there, unhappy and locked away from everyone who intentionally and unintentionally hurt him.

Nothing would change.

Just one cycle after another, with all of them suffering in silence unable to read the other.

“We’re not mind readers.” Logan mumbled, more to himself than anything. “We shouldn’t expect the other to be either…”

“What?” Janus asked, unable to hear Logan through the folds of fabric, and judging from the look on Roman’s face he certainly hadn’t heard him any better either.

A light dusting of pink made its way over the tops of Logan’s ears.

Giving a little cough though he repeated himself. “I said…” Logan scratched the back of his neck. “None of us are mind readers, and we shouldn’t expect the others to be if we’re not. Hiding and scurrying away when it comes to our true feelings, and acting passive aggressive helps nothing if it just keeps building and building when nobody notices it.” Fiddling with the fabric Logan went on, feeling as if he was digging his own grave at this point. “If.. if someone brings something up in front of the others… we need to have each others’ back, especially if it's something… precious to us.”

Almost immediately Logan felt a pair of hands come up behind him ruffling up his hair, making it stick straight up in the air as Roman grinned at him. Before he even knew it Roman had hooked his arms from behind Logan, giving him the biggest squeeze of a hug that he’d ever felt. And the pride bursting within Janus’ eyes spoke leagues, even if there was nothing else about Janus’ body language that said so.

“If you tell me something that you want to be seriously taken, I won’t laugh at you. And I’ll make sure that the others won’t either.” Roman promised, but not before crossing a giant X over his heart and pretending to jab out his eye. “Janus, if you ever want to show up as you are, and not who they expect… I will stand behind them one hundred percent, and I will stand against them if they have anything bad to say about it at all.” He promised, warmth flooding his chest as he looked down at his two best friends. “I want the both of you to be comfortable and safe. I want you to be able to smile without worry.”

Logan hadn’t thought it possible for his week to end up like this, since the most recent interaction with Janus he’d felt shoved to the side and forgotten. To the point where he was ready to just decide in his room and not make any kinds of comments unless called on by another. But having Roman come to him, and having Roman make his promises…

It felt a lot like hope.

“I hope you know that I will do the same for you,” Logan uttered softness filling his voice, “If they say anything about your ideas that you’re excited for, or have anything to say about how you treat either of us… I have your back, I’ll stand by you.” And turning his gaze to Janus, the one side that he’d thought he’s have to fight against his falsehoods forever. He saw him for who he really was, and who he wanted to be. “I promise you… I will not ever let them laugh at you, I will take you seriously even if they try not to.” A tiny smile quirked onto Logan’s lips, the first one in a long while. “I’ll yell with my teacher's voice.”

“You two will always have a place here.” Janus uttered with a fair amount of reverence. “Through good and bad, if you need me I will be here for you. Should the others turn their backs on you. I won’t. That is a promise.”

Maybe it was just the warmth of Janus’ room, blazing even brighter, but…

They all felt a little warmer that night, ready to take on whatever demons laid in wait for them the next morning.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts roman sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts janus sanders #logan angst #roman angst #janus angst #ts sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfic

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plume-pigmented-pili · 4 years

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I need more Among Us sanders sides content so i’m making it myself:

The sides suit colors, hats, and how they’d play - Tag yourself if you want lmao

Logan -

Dark Blue suit, doesn’t wear a hat, but if he weren’t worried about being taken seriously he’d wear the cherry hat as it reminds him of crofter’s.

analyzes all evidence before coming to any conclusions

feels like nobody else is taking this seriously

asks for alibis every vote round

gets tasks done as efficiently as possible

will be in security or admin after finished with tasks

evidence based only; doesn’t assign anyone as ‘sus’ without reason

Has ‘sus’ on a flash card probably

wins as imposter every time

surprisingly good at the art of deception

Roman -

White suit, paid 2.99 for the crown hat and doesn’t regret it one bit

fumbles through tasks but is surprisingly efficient

judges everybody’s every moment for suspicious activity

Will blame someone simply for standing still too long

Bad at discussions (I.e. asks too many questions and looks sus)

almost always voted out first

doesn’t like being imposter

rlly bad at lying

always keeping an eye out

Virgil -

Purple suit, doesn’t wear a hat but likes the alien dog pet

Weary of everything and everyone

gets tasks done last usually (for that last reason)

Good at detecting lies and deducing

has biases tho

definitely a smart ass in chat

“How do I vent like Green did”

is very well trusted actually

enjoys being imposter and is surprisingly good at it

refuses to go into electrical until the very end or unless absolutely necessary

Often teams with Roman in making wild accusations (and to try and eliminate Janus)

“idk Janus sus” “why?” “followed me in admin” “everyone went into admin.” “still sus”

gets nervous when he doesn’t see other people for too long

Patton -

Cyan suit, uses crewmate hat and mini crewmate pet (“aww look! I have 2 kiddos!!), gets sad if he dies and leaves his mini crewmate sitting alone tho

trusts everyone way too easily

sees the merit in being imposter but refuses to play as imposter anyway

because of this, nobody ever suspects him or tries to vote him out

If Patton says he saw someone in a vent or over a body, everyone believes him. imposters do their best to stay away from him because of this

Roman tags along with him ‘to keep him safe’ (but it’s also because Romans feels safer around other people, Patton knows this)

volunteers to go into electrical with Virgil

tries to use his free time gathering evidence for Logan, even if he’s not great at it

has a bit of a sus biased toward Remus but pretty much everyone else does too so

usually gets killed pretty quickly but continues his tasks anyways

usually has to break up arguments in chat

“We’re here to have fun!”

Remus -

Lime Green suit, switches between toilet paper, egg, plunger, banana peel, and cheese hats (it’s always random)

is happiest as imposter

bad at lying but really good at just f*cking with peoples heads

kills Logan first as imposter

still acts like imposter even when his a crew member

follows people around to make them nervous

would team with imposter if he could

forgets to do his tasks often but still does them

likes the kill animations

sometimes he hits emergency meeting just to be an ass

Remus was kicked by Logan S.

Janus -

Yellow suit, wears black roundy hat and sometimes the yellow party hat

Favorites being imposter over crewmember but equally good at both

always decides to kill Patton first as imposter, since he’s the easiest target and a liability, but never actually goes through with it

likes doing tasks alone but doesn’t have an issue if Patton follows him

hated anyone else following him unless he knows for a fact they’re innocent, and even then he’s not a fan

like Logan, he gets tasks done asap

unlike Logan, he doesn’t like sitting in security. It makes him vulnerable, as he would say

despises the admin card swipe

after he finishes tasks, he keeps close tabs on everyone and is always moving

Either the first to die or the last to die, no in between

has a knack for steering the conversation in the direction he wants it to go (Virgil can almost always see through it tho)

while he likes to use reason when finding the imposter, he also has the tendency to use pure speculation as grounds for his accusations. He hides this well

avoids Virgil like the plague

481 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Text

i picture it, soft, and i ache

He cannot love Patton.

But god, does he want to.

It doesn't take Janus very long to fall in love with Patton, when it comes down to it. It takes him far longer to accept it, and to allow it to grow.

Content Warning: brief, non-graphic depiction of a panic attack

(ao3 link)

(podfic by @titheinironside)

It’s unbelievable, how fast he falls.

He prides himself on his rationality, his pragmatism. He’s no Logan, of course, but it has been a very long time since he allowed his emotions to get in his way. Over the years, that has cost him so much-- his relationship with Virgil, his ability to trust and be trusted, any moral compass that he may once have possessed, among other things. But he has never regretted it, not once, because his primary directive is to help Thomas, and if he has to play the villain to do so, so be it. Lord knows none of the others see the world for what it is, are willing to do what it takes to ensure Thomas’ success.

But the scene is like this: time passes, Thomas begins to listen to him, and one day, Patton smiles. He doesn’t know at what, doesn’t know why, because he wasn’t paying attention until now, but Patton smiles, wide and bright, and in that moment, Janus would do anything for that smile to be directed at him.

In the next moment comes realization: oh.

In the next few days comes denial: no.

Because above all else, he knows himself, knows what he is built for and what he is not. He is not built for this love, all-encompassing and brilliant, not built for this depth of devotion. His very being is defined by his loyalty to Thomas and Thomas alone, his ability to use and discard the others at will as long as Thomas will benefit. He is a snake and a liar, cunning, selfish, cowardly, and he has spent his entire existence pushing away the possibility of anything else.

He cannot love Patton.

But god, does he want to. Patton burns like the brightest star in the sky, moves like the gentlest breeze on the warmest summer day, laughs like the freest dancer on the greenest field, and Janus is caught in his orbit, hopelessly entranced, hanging off his every word. The first time Patton touches him skin to skin, a graze against his forearm, causally, in passing, he has to excuse himself and stand in the center of his room for hours to catch his breath. His heart races too fast, and his entire arm feels as though it has been set alight, and all he wants is for it to happen again.

He is in too deep, sinking too quickly. He is at the bottom of the ocean, and even as the pressure of the water overhead crushes him, even as the darkness swallows him whole, he cannot bring himself to fight for the surface. If this is drowning, then he will drown and be grateful.

He cannot love Patton. But it is far, far too late for that.

“Wow,” Remus says, impressed against all odds. “You are a gay disaster.”

He groans. “I don’t know why I expected you to help me,” he mutters, and Remus shrugs, entirely unapologetic.

“You know I don’t do the whole romance thing,” he says. “Not my department. Have you tried, uh--” He scrunches his nose, and Janus knows that whatever comes out of his mouth next will be truly ridiculous-- “telling him, maybe? With, um, roses? That’s romantic shit, right? But you gotta take all the thorns off so that he doesn’t prick his thumb and blood doesn’t go spurting everywhere--”

“Please stop,” he groans, and that is the end of that.

Tell Patton. Absurd.

And he cannot tell anyone else. Cannot ask for help. He can tell Remus because he trusts Remus, to the extent that he trusts him to be exactly what he is, no more and no less, and Remus trusts him in the same way. But in general, trust is a foreign concept to him, once known but long lost, like returning to an old favorite book and realizing that the words have faded beyond all recognition.

But that’s alright. He is used to being alone. He has been alone for so long that he barely remembers what honest companionship feels like, and that is part of the problem, isn’t it? He has built so many walls around himself, walls that only he is ever allowed to breach, but here is Patton, waiting outside the gates and asking to be let in. Not demanding, not threatening; he brings no battering ram, no armies. Just himself, and his smile, and flowers in his hair, and that has more effect than twenty armies could.

He wants to open the gates. But the chains are rusted, the keys long lost, and that does not even take into account the danger of it, the danger of allowing himself to love another. Thomas is his priority, but what happens to him when that changes? What does he become? And what does that say about the worth of every action he has taken to lead him to this point?

Can he love? Is he capable of that unique vulnerability? He doesn’t think so. Love and trust go hand in hand, and if he cannot manage one, the other will evade him. He’s dancing a waltz meant for two on an empty stage, stumbling over his own feet because he has no one to catch him.

“You need to stay away from Patton,” Virgil tells him, eyes dark and clouded over with years of betrayal.

“Oh?” he asks. “Why is that?”

Virgil snorts, kicking away from the wall he’s leaning on. He approaches him slowly, deliberately, and the threads that hold Janus in place are invisible, intangible, but there all the same. A spiderweb capable of holding a serpent fast.

“Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at him,” Virgil says, and fear lands heavily in his chest. “I know everyone’s all eager to accept you and have you around these days, but I know what you are. Whatever you’re planning, leave him out of it.”

“Ah, yes,” he replies. “You know what I am, just as I know what you are, Virgil. I wouldn’t throw stones.” He pauses. The words fall from his lips bitter-sharp, and he doesn’t want to be saying them, not like this, but it’s a habit formed from years. There was a time when they were happy, once, but they spoiled each other, and nothing is left of that shared past but a handful of wilted promises and bridges burned beyond repair.

Virgil snorts and shoves past him.

“Out of curiosity,” he says, and Virgil stops, “how do I look at him?”

Virgil turns and stares. “What?” he demands, and Janus knows that it was a mistake.

“Nevermind,” he says, and moves to walk away, but Virgil grabs his arm, hard enough to bruise, and holds him in place. For a minute, he says nothing at all, and Janus is left to search his face, the anger in the tightness of his lips and bewilderment in the tilt of his head.

Then, realization dawns, and Janus wants to be anywhere but here.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Virgil says. “You… I can’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, tightly, coolly.

Virgil laughs, and it’s the sound of a predator pouncing. “Yeah?” he challenges. “I don’t give a damn what you feel, or what you think you feel. You’re a fucking liar, and a fucking liar is all you’ll ever be. You’re not capable of giving him what he deserves.”

They are standing so close to each other, a distance of inches, but he has never felt farther away from him. What they once had is lost, but in the space between breaths, he allows himself to mourn its death, hating himself for the weakness all the while.

“I know,” he says.

Virgil scowls, dire warning in the shadows on his face, and releases him, stomping away. Janus watches him go, and he aches.

A moment later, Patton pokes his head around the corner.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, eyes pinched with concern. “I thought I heard arguing.”

I want to kiss you, he doesn’t say. I want you to hold me and never let go, he doesn’t say. I want to love you, and I want you to love me, please, would you love me? he doesn’t say.

“It was nothing,” he says. “We’ve sorted it.”

Patton doesn’t seem convinced, but he lets it be. Janus watches him go, and he aches.

No one ever told him that love would hurt. He supposes he should have guessed it. Nothing that is worth having ever comes easily, and even though his breath catches every time Patton walks into a room, even though his heart tries to burst from his chest every time Patton deigns to glance his way, he doesn’t think he would trade this for anything. He can barely remember a time before this, before this love crawled into his chest and took up residence.

He takes whatever Patton will give him, laps up the crumbs like a starving dog. He accepts every offer of dinner, every invitation to watch a movie or play a game, even though all the rest of them barely tolerate him at best and openly hate him at worst. He’ll endure Virgil’s scorn, Roman’s enmity, Logan’s dismissal, as long as it means he can stay by Patton’s side. And Patton, at least, seems to like that he’s there, and most of him screams that it can’t be trusted, that there must be an ulterior motive, because that is the way he has thought about other people for nearly three decades and it’s so hard to try to change that. But he also knows that Patton doesn’t work that way. No matter how foolish it may be, he is genuine and true. Everything that Janus is not.

He entices smiles from him, teases laughter, and rejoices in the fact that it is him that draws these responses. It is all he will ever have, all he will ever be brave enough to take, and it is more than enough, more than he ever expected he could receive.

He cannot love Patton. But he does.

Roman corners him one day, and he lets him, because he has no idea why Roman of all people would seek him out. Things are better between them, but not by much, and Roman himself is still fragile in an odd way, as if saying the wrong thing one more time will prompt a total collapse. Janus has wanted many things from Remus’ twin, but never that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Roman says, through gritted teeth. “But, you and Patton.”

He blinks, taken aback. He told Remus, but Remus wouldn’t tell Roman. Virgil figured him out, but even after everything, Virgil still knows him well enough to read him, so that is no shock. Roman, though, barely manages to make eye contact with him on a good day, so he couldn’t, shouldn’t know, unless he is being far more obvious than he thought he was. That thought alone is enough to send an icy tendril of fear down his spine.

“What about me and Patton?” he asks, and hopes that his voice doesn’t shake.

Roman sighs, and his next sentence comes out as if it takes him a great effort to say. “Look, you make him happy, alright?” he states. “I don’t get it, and mostly, I’m scared that you’re just manipulating him, but for some ungodly reason, he actually likes having you around. So what I’m here to say is that if you hurt him, if this all turns out to be for some kind of scheme of yours, I will stab you through the heart and leave you pinned to the ground for the crows to eat. Do you understand me?”

His mouth goes dry. “Perfectly,” he rasps.

Roman looks at him, and then nods. He walks away without a sound, and Janus tries in vain to steady his nerves.

What was that?

You make him happy.

You. Make him. Happy.

Happy happy happy.

His face feels odd. He brings a gloved hand up to feel his cheek, and he realizes he’s smiling, wide and unrestrained like he hasn’t in years.

He makes Patton happy. He makes Patton happy.

He makes Patton happy.

He doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what he does. He can coax out smiles with a bit of smooth talk, bring out laughter with a well-placed pun, but those are both momentary, fleeting things. The idea that he makes Patton happy implies something that goes far beyond moments, implies a lasting fondness and a desire for his company, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why, and that is a problem, because if he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know to keep doing it.

Eventually, he works up the courage to ask, and Patton stops in the middle of rolling out his cookie dough.

“Why do I like to hang out with you?” he repeats. His eyes are very blue behind his glasses, like the vastest sky. “It’s because you’re you, silly.” He grins, bubbly and vivacious, and dabs a bit of flour on Janus’ nose. He sticks out his tongue instinctively, and Patton coos at what he calls a ‘blep’ and what Janus calls ‘something that he will deny ever happening so please stop bringing it up.’

“Besides,” Patton adds, more thoughtfully, “we’ve spent so long not being friends, and that was mostly on me. Now that I know how great you are, I don’t want to waste any more time. You’ve been trying so hard all along, and I couldn’t see that.” He grabs Janus’ hand, and he has to stifle a gasp. He can feel the human side of his face heating up, and hopes against all hope that Patton will not notice what must be an obvious blush. “I want to know you better now.”

“Oh,” is all he can say, all he can squeak out between teeth that are too tightly clenched. Even through his glove, Patton’s hand is so very warm, and his hand is tingling at his touch. “Um, I suppose I want to know you better, too,” he adds, stumbling his way through sincerity, and it must be the right answer, because Patton beams.

It’s like standing in sunlight, squinting up at a cloudless sky, in a instant of warmth and light that will last forever. Night will never fall and rain will never come down, and the sun will burn bright until the end of time, and so will he.

That evening, he has a panic attack in Logan’s room.

It starts in the hallway and comes out of nowhere; one moment he is walking to his room, and the next, he is leaning on the wall for support, doubled over and gasping for breath for no reason that he can see. But he happens to be standing near Logan’s door, and he must be loud enough for him to take notice, to come out and lead him somewhere safer, less exposed. He would be more grateful, if his lungs would cooperate.

Logan counts and measures his own breaths, and eventually, he finds himself able to follow the rhythm. He is shaking and sweating and crying just a bit, but the panic eases little by little, leaving him pressed up against the wall, Logan sitting nearby but not touching. He is familiar with the motions; he walked through them for Virgil, once upon a time. He has never been on the receiving end.

“Would you like to discuss it?” Logan asks, when he no longer feels as though his lungs are being constricted by iron bands.

He contemplates what triggered it. He thinks it was nothing in particular, really, nothing but a sudden sensation of being overwhelmed by everything all at once, his feelings and the endless possibilities open before him, a looming, uncertain future. It is as though he is walking a tightrope over a precipice, and the slightest mistake will send him tumbling into darkness. The thought makes his chest clench up again, and he breathes out slowly and deliberately.

“Not particularly,” he manages, and Logan accepts the answer with a nod.

“Very well,” he says, standing and walking to his desk, where he sits down and opens his laptop. “You are welcome to remain here for as long as you would like.”

He considers the offer. It’s far more generous than he expected. He didn’t think that Logan liked him very much. And it’s a nice room. Calming. There are stars painted on the ceiling, an accurate representation of the night sky bathing the room in a soft white glow.

“Thank you,” he says, and for a long while, the two of them sit in silence, Logan typing at his laptop and Janus just breathing, existing. He appreciates it, this comfortable silence, carrying no demands or expectations.

Could Logan help him, he wonders? Perhaps not; Logan barely ever bothers to recognize his own emotions, much less those of someone else. But then, Logan is calm and rational and most importantly, capable of respecting privacy, and perhaps that is just what he needs.

He needs something, of that, he is certain. Panic attacks are a new development, and not one that he wants to continue.

“Logan,” he says, “may I ask you a question?”

Logan swivels in his chair to face him. “You just did,” he points out, “but yes, go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath.

“What is love? If you had to define it, that is.”

He tries to keep his voice level, to reveal none of the importance that the question holds. It is the most open he has been about the subject, besides ranting to Remus, and he trusts Remus in a way that he has not learned to apply to anyone else. But he needs to know, needs to understand, and Logan is his best option for a definition. He will answer, and he will not push. Emotions are not his department.

Logan frowns at him, eyes oddly piercing. “I may not be the best side to go to if you are experiencing difficulties with this matter,” he says. “However, scientifically speaking, love is the emotion produced when certain neurochemicals, such as oxytocin, are released in the brain. I do not generally concern myself with the intricacies of the topic. Emotions are hardly my area of expertise.”

Janus sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. It is just about the answer he was expecting. He’s not sure that it helps. He doesn’t think he can reduce his feelings to chemicals. Not when he thinks he would do anything to keep Patton happy, save putting Thomas at risk.

“Is… there anything else I can answer for you?” Logan asks, and Janus meets his gaze. He seems oddly hesitant, and Janus is certain that he has overplayed his hand, but he is too exhausted to regret the decision. Something needs to give, something needs to change.

“No, that’s all,” he says. He makes no move to leave, though, content enough to linger in a place that sets order amongst his disordered thoughts, realigns the nonsense into reason.

“I am no expert,” Logan says, “so you are certainly free to disregard this advice, but I have been informed that… discussing one’s emotions with their object tends to be helpful in alleviating stress, if nothing else.” He is floundering, grasping at straws, but the clumsy attempt at help is genuine, and rather than annoyed, Janus finds himself endeared.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And he does. Oh, how he does. Once considered, the possibility won’t leave him alone. He watches Patton, spends time with Patton, and wonders what would change if he let the words slip past his lips.

The trust that Patton has extended him is extraordinary. No one has ever looked at him like Patton does, like he cares about him because he is himself and not because of the function he provides. Patton uses his name so easily, like it means nothing, and he knows that names do not have the same significance to those in the light as they do to those in the dark, but he still feels a thrill every time he hears it, because Patton was the first to use it. Was the first to accept the hand that Janus offered, in desperation and the burning need to be heard for Thomas’ sake.

He threw himself off a cliff with only the impossible hope that someone would catch him. And Patton did. Janus can’t go back to the way things were before. He won’t risk losing all that he has gained. And if that is selfish, well. That much is expected of him.

“Do you wanna help me cook dinner tonight?” Patton asks.

He’s in the common room. It’s still a novelty, the ability to be here. Depending on who sees him, he garners the odd distrustful glance, but no one ever demands he leave. It’s refreshing, and more than a little delightful, not that he would ever admit it.

He shrugs. “Absolutely not,” he says, rising. “I despise cooking. Why would you even ask that?”

Weeks and months ago, that would cause Patton to withdraw, would send hurt flashing across his face.

Weeks and months ago, Patton wouldn’t have asked at all.

But now, Patton giggles. “Great,” he says, and from anyone else, Janus would take that to be sarcasm, but as always, Patton means it. He always means it, when he says these things.

Janus follows him into the kitchen, staring at his back and thinking about how different they are. How Patton is good and he… is not. It’s an oversimplification, of course; he knows that very well, better than anyone else, knows that morality is relative and painted in swatches of grey, but still. It never used to bother him.

Patton is making a stir fry, evidently, a new recipe, and sets Janus to preparing the rice as he chops vegetables. He chatters on about everything and nothing, about a dog that Thomas saw yesterday, about the cute barista that Thomas managed to hold a coherent conversation with, about how he managed to beat Logan in Scrabble the other day to everybody’s shock, how he thinks he’s almost got Roman convinced to take him on a quest in the Imagination. A lot of it, Janus already knows, but he is happy to listen to Patton talk, interjecting with dry comments at appropriate times to draw out a laugh or teasing scolding or an exaggerated gasp and a swat at his arm.

And all the time, Patton smiles. Brightly and genuinely.

He’s so caught up in it that he almost doesn’t catch the slip in time, almost doesn’t see Patton’s knife waver too close to his finger as he relates his adventures with a puppy that Roman conjured for him (“--and it almost peed on Logan but I stopped it before it could. Logan still wasn’t happy, though--”). But he does, and his hand darts out to grip Patton’s wrist, halting the knife’s motion before he can give himself a nasty cut.

“Careful,” he murmurs.

“Oh!” Patton says. “Thanks, Janus.” He laughs. “Guess I wasn’t being sharp enough.”

He smiles at the pun, and for a second, he lingers, feeling Patton’s wrist under his fingers. He’s wearing his gloves, but the warmth shoots up his arm regardless.

Then, he realizes that Patton’s face is red.

Ah. He’s made him uncomfortable.

“Apologies,” he says, and pulls back. He expects the incident to fade into the background, forgotten, expects them both to move on without comment.

He doesn’t expect Patton to drop the knife on the cutting board and take his hand in his.

Janus stares. Patton’s face is still red, red like a tomato, and he refuses to make eye contact. Janus feels like he’s frozen, feels like his heartbeat must be audible to the entire Mindscape and probably Thomas too, feels like he wants to run and feels like he never wants to let go.

What is happening?

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Patton says. He looks at him, finally, and his blue eyes are shining with an emotion that Janus dares not name.

He opens his mouth to reply, but his throat is dry. He clears it, several times, and he wants the ground to swallow him a bit, because surely his infatuation is obvious, is written all across his face. Surely, Patton will see it now, will release his hand and let him down gently, kindly, because that is the type of person that Patton is. Gentle, kind, someone that he loves helplessly and hopelessly and will continue to love until the stars go dark.

“I’ve been thinking,” Patton says softly. “Could I hug you?”

He is wordless, powerless, breathless. He nods. Patton releases his hand, but he only has a moment to mourn the loss of contact before Patton’s arms are wrapped around him, before he is tugged against Patton’s chest, held tight and safe and close, and it is as though every nerve has been lit on fire. He gasps, and his own arms latch onto Patton’s back and do not let go. It is an effort to keep it down to only one pair.

He is so warm. He doesn’t think he has ever been this warm. Even half a dozen heat lamps couldn’t compare to this, this heat and this pressure and this security.

He is trembling, too, and hopes that Patton doesn’t notice.

“I realized that I hadn’t ever done it,” Patton says. “I didn’t know if you would want me to, or if you would like it? But I wanted to see. Are you… you’re shaking, are you okay?”

He moves as if to pull away. Janus doesn’t let him.

“Please don’t let me go,” he rasps. It is too raw, too vulnerable, too honest, and it gives far too much away. And it’s selfish, too, wanting to take so much of his attention, his affections, when he cannot possibly feel the same way that Janus does.

But he doesn’t care.

“Oh,” Patton says, something new in his voice, something like surprise but not quite, and Janus can’t place it but he doesn’t care as long as Patton will keep holding him, because this is all he’s ever wanted, even if it can’t last. “Oh. Oh, honey, I won’t. I won’t, I promise. I won’t let you go.”

Janus buries his face in Patton’s shoulder. Patton rubs soothing circles into his back, and he thinks he could melt.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Patton murmurs.

He was never built for this love, never built to hold it. Against all odds, he has, though, has held it and nurtured it and allowed it to grow. And perhaps that means that he is not what he has spent so long thinking that he is, that perhaps he can be more. He has held this love and now it is spilling over, seeing the light for the first time, and perhaps the light will reveal it to be ugly and twisted and dark, but he will take the risk if it means he can touch the sun.

“I’m not meant for this,” he says softly, and Patton hums.

“Not meant for what?”

“Caring.”

His voice breaks. Patton makes a small, choked sound and steps back. Janus is forced to let him go, and already, his body is yearning for the contact again. There is only a foot or so between them, but it might as well be the Grand Canyon.

Is this where it ends? Has he broken their friendship?

God, he’s become so melodramatic.

But no, Patton reaches out, caresses his face, caresses the left side of his face, his hand cupping his scaled cheek as if it’s no different from human skin, and Janus feels as though the ground has dropped out from under him because no one, no one has ever touched him there, like this.

“You deserve all the care in the world,” Patton tells him fiercely, passionately, and… he meant it the other way around, meant that he’s not built for caring about others, but to see Patton like this, so determined to defend him even from himself…

Janus kisses him. His lips are as soft as he always imagined they would be.

He only gives himself a moment before drawing away. Patton is staring at him, face slack with shock.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His lips are tingling, his body on fire, his emotions bared, and he can’t stand it.

He isn’t built for this, and surely, Patton can see that.

But then, Patton steps closer.

“You don’t need,” Patton says, “to apologize to me.”

And Patton kisses him. Gently, but insistently, asking for an answer but not demanding. And it takes a few seconds, a few long seconds in which he comprehends nothing and too much all at once, can barely wrap his head around the concept of Patton kissing him, but he answers. Answers, and answers, and answers. Answers, and pours everything he has, everything he is into the answering.

They pull back, eventually, and Janus opens his eyes. Patton’s lips are red and swollen, his eyes bright.

“Not unless you didn’t mean it,” Patton says, and it takes him a moment to figure out what he’s talking about.

“I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more in my life,” he replies, and swallows. “It terrifies me.”

The honesty is excruciating. Is this what love does?

He already knows the answer to that.

“Then let’s be scared together,” Patton says. He reaches out and takes Janus’ hands in his, intertwining their fingers. His yellow gloves stand out against Patton’s skin, and for the first time in a long time, he wants to remove them, to take them off and have skin to skin contact, regardless of the vulnerability that will bring. Not tonight, maybe, but soon?

Patton kissed him.

“That is,” Patton says, “if you want to.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is even lower, even softer than before. “I really, really like you, Janus.”

He looks at him. Really looks. Patton is nervous, fidgeting, unsure of his answer despite the fact that Janus kissed him first, despite the fact that Janus has been pining, has been burning so long that he has forgotten how not to. But his words ring clear with honesty, and Janus doesn’t think he has ever been this happy, nor this scared.

He can love Patton. All he has to do is say yes.

“Not at all,” he lies. “Why would I?”

And he tugs Patton back in. The kiss is tender, sweet, and Janus doesn’t know how to do this, doesn’t know how to allow another in, doesn’t know how to open up, to trust, to let himself love unabashedly and without restraint. For Patton, though, he is willing to do anything, anything at all. It’s a waltz meant for two, and perhaps the stage isn’t so empty after all.

Against his lips, Patton is smiling at him. So, he smiles back.

He can love Patton, and Patton can love him, and maybe, just maybe, he can believe that everything is going to be alright.

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schmweed · 10 months

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#Gerri Kellman #Roman Roy #Coming in all brash and joking about her 'tiny name' and asking abt her daughters #when he's really actually worried he wasn't good enough for her #and she was about to realize it and worry she'd tethered herself to him.#He not only felt worried about that but he also went ahead and voiced his fears to her.#He would NEVER be that vulnerable with anyone else #and the trust and faith goes both ways -- I love how later in the episode #she leveled with him that he and his siblings could actually bring Logan down even though it would NOT be in her best interests #Succession #my gifs #I also obviously love the totally necessary tongue thing -- he's just worried and serious and lost in serious thought #nothing to do with gazing at her of COURSE :D #I love them so much. I miss them SO MUCH!#I can't get over the fantastic finale. The amazing door it left amazingly WIDE OPEN for anything and everything to happen down the road.#They will get their happy ending. She will rescue him. He will believe she's doing it because she wants to #and he will let her and he will be rescued #and she will get all the drawn-out groveling and apologizing she more than deserves from him #and I don't think there's ever been a couple better suited to be together. <3 #also can anyone with serious giffing prowess do these gifs properly please PLEASE and thank you?#the gifsets people make using Photoshop are GORGEOUS #uploading videos to a site will never reach that level.

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carouselofrats · 3 years

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Nothing at All and I Resent the Question

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32359684

———————————————————————

Pairing: Platonic Loceit (could be seen as romantic if you wanted to)

Word Count: 1120

Summary:

Deceit stood up, bringing out his hook and pulling Logan off of the screen. The logical side landed a bit roughly in his room, mirroring his usual position in Thomas’ living room.

“My apologies, Logan. I’m afraid my summoning abilities are a bit rusty and… unusual. Lovely room you have, by the way.”

aka my interpretation of what happened between Logan and Janus during POF when he was dragged off screen.

———————————————————————

Deceit waited patiently. The day of reckoning had finally come: April “lucky number” 13th. He snorted. Lucky. That was one of the bigger lies that Thomas had told recently.

When the reception had been less than ideal and yielded none of Patton’s treasured “good feelings'' (sigh), Deceit had expected to feel a rush of self-righteousness, an urge to say “I told you so”. He’d been right about the whole thing all this time, after all.

Instead, he’d been hit with a feeling of… emptiness. Thomas had gotten nowhere. Deceit’s own plans had only led to more damage. The fact that he’d had no other options didn’t seem to soften the blow, no matter how much he wished to remain unaffected.

All of this pontificating had brought him here, sitting on the couch in Logan’s room. He would be damned if he let all of his work be for nothing. So far, the wedding aftermath had been a bit disastrous, given what he could grasp from inside the Mindpalace. So disastrous, in fact, that he felt his mission might already be doomed before it even started. Logan, the poor thing, had been trying to contribute some much-needed reasoning to the conversation and been thoroughly and utterly ignored again. Still, there were a few things that gave Deceit hope. Thomas had at least considered his argument a bit more, going by his “made a decision with a blindfold on” comment.

So, with more determination than he’d ever felt before, Deceit had set up the skip button and waited; hoping that maybe Thomas had at least considered his argument, that the others wouldn’t immediately dismiss his words because he was a dark side, that even if they didn’t dismiss him they wouldn’t hold too much bias, that Thomas would actually just fucking listen to him for once and understand that the world wasn’t black and white. If Patton, Roman, or Thomas had actually gotten to the point of skipping logic, then he would know that things were dire. He was torn between hoping it would happen just to give him the opportunity and being horrified by what the circumstances of said opportunity mea-

It just so happened that at that exact moment his train of thought was broken by none other than the aforementioned “skip button” being pressed. By Patton. Hm, interesting. He’d expected that it would be Roman, if anyone. Deceit stood up, bringing out his hook (he definitely didn’t feel giddy about finally getting to use it) and pulling Logan off of the screen. The logical side landed a bit roughly in his room, mirroring his usual position in Thomas’ living room. Deceit winced a bit as the other stumbled.

“My apologies, Logan. I’m afraid my summoning abilities are a bit rusty and… unusual. Lovely room you have, by the way,” he said, eyeing his hook as he pushed it back up into its spot in his capelet, ready to be summoned again at any time.

Logan, who had been adjusting his tie a bit dejectedly and looking hurt, quickly straightened up at the sound of the other side’s voice. Deceit didn’t comment.

“Deceit,” the logical side spoke, his normal speaking volume a welcome contrast to the yell that typically accompanied the statement, “what are you doing here?” His eyes narrowed, quickly putting everything together. “It was you who placed the skip button, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed. Again, my apologies. I would’ve loved to devise a gentler option but, alas, it appears we’re in pretty dire straits at this point,” he replied.

“It’s no matter.” Lie. “I’m assuming you have a reason for dragging me down here?”

“I need a favor.” He hesitated for a second. “Well, less of a favor and more your permission.”

Logan’s eyebrows had progressively raised higher and higher. “Permission?” Janus nodded. “For what?”

“I wish to impersonate you.” Logan’s eyebrows were at his hairline at this point. It took him a few seconds of silence to gather his response.

“You’ve never asked for permission in the past, I’m confused as to why you feel you need to do so now.”

Deceit looked away, sighing, he hated being emotionally vulnerable. “Well, last time I impersonated you without permission it went--How do I say this?--It was a bit of a disaster. One that, if i’m not mistaken, hurt you in the process.” Logan attempted to speak but Deceit kept going, “Yes, yes, I know you ‘can’t feel’ and whatnot. That’s unfortunately a debate for another day; right now I'm requesting your permission. I’m… unsure if I'll ever get another opportunity like this.” He finished, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Logan stared at him for a second. “Why?”

“Pardon?” He looked back at Logan.

“Why do you believe you’ll not get another opportunity? Why choose to ask me? Why do you need an opportunity in the first place? To do what?”

Well… that wasn’t exactly what Deceit had been expecting but, then again, this was Logan he was dealing with.

“You’re the least biased out of all of them. I have the best chance with you. As for the opportunity… I feel that this little discussion that Thomas is having quite closely pertains to me.”

“How so?”

Janus glanced his eyes away again. “‘Deceit’ is an oversimplification of my purpose, just as ‘Logic’ is an oversimplification of yours. I’m also Thomas’ self-preservation. His selfishness. And well… he could use some selfishness right now.” Silence rang out for a few seconds.

“I see. Then you have my permission.”

“...”

“Wow, you put up such a fight, Logan. I’m exhausted.” Deceit snarked out, surprised by the ease of the other’s agreement.

Logan smirked a bit, adjusting his glasses. “I believe I now have a greater understanding of your presence here, Deceit. If Thomas won’t listen to me on the matter, perhaps he will listen to you.”

Logan stepped out of his spot next to the staircase, coming to stand next to the couch. He looked at Deceit, gesturing to the vacated space.

“Go ahead,” he said. Deceit saw no bitterness in his eyes.

He walked over to the spot and let his disguise wash over him. There were now two versions of Logan in the room. He turned back to Logan.

“Thank you.” He spoke with more genuineness than he’d spoken in years.

Logan simply gave him a small smile and shook his head. “No need. For your sake and Thomas’, I hope you succeed.”

Deceit began to sink down, the two sides each giving each other a mutual nod of respect as he went. If all else failed, Janus at least felt that he might have an ally in one of the light sides.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts deceit #ts sides #logan sanders #ts logan #sanders sides fanfiction #ao3fic #ts janus #janus sanders #loceit

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quietrainfan · 3 years

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Do you have any headcanons about Brotherly Dukeceit? I’ve always imagined them as being closer than any other pair of Sides because they only have each other to rely on, especially after Virgil abandoned them.

(I’m also really excited to have found someone else who sees the Sides as brothers :D)

Oh, honey, I have tons of brotherly Dukeceit headcanons! So glad you asked! Also yes, I'm super glad to hear someone else share the same interpretation as me!

Janus keeps a lid on Remus's chaotic energy.

Really, he's the only one that can.

That doesn't mean Janus restricts his creativity or doesn't let him go wild at all. Far from it.

A big part of their bonding together is blowing things up, cutting things down (or up), and experimenting with dark magic.

Dark magic is their oxygen. They can't live without it.

It's something that is apart of everything they do.

Power comparing? Favorite pass times. Dee always large open fields in the mind palace to go all out on.

Theater? Come on. You think they're not going to utilize their deliciously dark gothic abilities with over the top musical numbers and songs they've made up on the fly?! Child, please!

Do you know how dramatic they are?

The Disney Villains were their favorite characters for a reason.

"They may have invented the performance but we perfected it! Eat shit, Scar!"

"We don't disrespect the King in this house, Remus."

"Sorry, Dee."

"But you're right. We're better."

Remus is high key terrified of Janus.

As loving as the snake man is, he'd be the first to run when he's angry. Especially if it's to the point where Janus uses his powers.

He keeps on his big brother's good side. Definitely.

Remus also has tremendous respect for Janus as well.

He values his input on things and really is the only one he'll ever follow orders from.

It comes from his acknowledgment of how strong and smart Janus is. He loves his ruthless cunning inner nature. Even more so if he gives him orders based on it. It gets his blood pumping. And you know how much of an adrenaline junkie he is.

But it is also because Janus will listen to him. He values his input. He never makes him feel stupid, unreachable or something to be "tweaked".

He accepts his opinions as they are. So long as it doesn't result in getting himself or the others hurt. Janus won't judge. He loves that about him.

Remus always used to rest his chin on Dee's lap when they were little. He still does it whenever he feels sad or lonely or really any sort of vulnerability he can't share with anyone else.

He always shows this attitude of an unhinged, unbothered quirky mad man. No one would really take him seriously if he came forward about these things. Roman wouldn't even look at him.

But he could confide in Janus.

He'd always gently pet through his hair and look down at him with a soft, warm smile. Silently reassuring him everything was going to be okay. Never shaming him for being an adult and still coming to rest on his lap.

Perks of being the little brother: Getting spoiled rotten whenever you're down and always having someone there to help rile up some chaos to help you feel better.

Oh, of course Remus returns the favor whenever the shoe is on the other foot.

Remus hypes Janus up nonstop. Saying he's the best big brother he could ever ask for, he's a king, his levels of ruthless cunning is something he can only dream of, his amount of power is beyond his understanding, he's so smart, so handsome, he's a great leader, he's so gentle and kind but stern at right time, he never would've kept his creative drive without him!-

He just goes on and on. His cool elder brother is not going to think ill of himself. Ever!

Remus attaches to Janus like a koala at random times with zero warning. For hours.

Janus just rolls with it.

Janus will literally just walk around with him there like it's the most normal thing in the world. Like, he just goes to the kitchen with a cup of coffee and looks in the fridge for the something to eat?

"Um...Salutations, Janus....you do know there's a-"

"Yes.", He just takes his snack and leaves.

He may or may not get Remus a snack as well and toss it over his shoulder for Remus to catch it in his mouth at times.

The two could rule the world with the amount of zero fucks they give, honestly.

They definitely have the whole dynamic duo thing going on and they steal every room they're in.

Feel free to add, I have many more and would love to hear from others!

#sympathetic deceit #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #familial sanders sides #fluff #platonic dukeceit #brotherly dukeceit #big brother deceit #slight unsympathetic roman #quiet answers

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daughterofzagreus · 3 years

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Assigning Zodiac Signs to Greek Gods

Zeus - Sagittarius

*sigh*, my sign. During Sag season too, LMAO.

Sag is ruled by Jupiter, which is Zeus's Roman counterpart. And it's fitting. It's the planet of expansion and good luck which relates to Zeus. He was the only one of his siblings who wasn't swallowed by his father, which makes him pretty lucky to me. Zeus is a cheating fuckboy, with a love for chasing tail that is the root cause for about 90% of all the issues and conflicts in ancient Greek mythology...that's a pretty typical Sag male move. It's no secret that Sags can be hoes (I say this with love🤗). According to the myths, Zeus was actually a pretty fun, jovial guy who loved a good party, singing, dancing and some drink (the word "jovial" comes from his Roman name Jove/Jupiter). He's impulsive and has a bad temper when angered, though. All fairly Sag tendencies.

Poseidon - Pisces

Pisces is ruled by Neptune, the Roman counterpart to Poseidon. It makes sense that the god of the Sea would be a water sign. Uncle Sy was an emotional MESS in Greek mythology, he's been described as emotionally unstable, temperamental and moody. I'm sorry Pisces but (as someone with a Pisces mother) I can definitely see it. He was quite a hoe too, so I don't know if it's just a mutable sign thing (In which case, welcome to the Hoe club, Pisces👏🏾). His moods and emotions change like the tides (like Pisces), so he's either in a very good mood or a very bad one. Apparently he was quite the sweetheart when in a good mood, as well. Although, man gets a lot of good PR from the Percy Jackson series😒.

Hades - Scorpio

Obvious Scorpio is obvious💀. Scorpio is ruled by Pluto, which is the planet of death and rebirth. Makes sense, as Hades rules over the underworld. Pluto is also Hades's Roman counterpart. Hades isn't technically an Olympian because he doesn't stay in Olympus, his kingdom is in the underworld. I think that's significant because Scorpios like to keep to themselves. The stereotype of Scorpio is that they're morbid, secretive and mysterious. Into the macabre. Kind of like an intellectual brooding, which all fits for Hades. He's not an unfair guy, though. Likely, more on the misunderstood side. I think the fact that only a few people (like his wife Persephone) understand him shows that he doesn't open up or get vulnerable easily or with just anyone. A very Scorpio trait.

Hestia - Cancer

We don't know much about Hestia's personality. She's demure, simple and rules over the hearth and home. Cancers tend to be family oriented. If not, they do have a significant relationship with their home (be that their actual house, or their hometown. Wherever "home" and the family is). The hearth is the centre of the household. It keeps the home warm and provides a place for the whole family to gather around to commune or just feel safe. So, I think that's fitting.

Hera - Virgo

Oh gosh, I can't help comparing her and Zeus's relationship to Jay-Z and Beyonce 😔. Bless her heart, that Sag man has her looking a fool. A complete fool 🤡. Anywho, Hera is beautiful and a perfectionist. Very regal, and strives to maintain perfection. Besides being the queen, Hera is also the goddess of motherhood, monogamy, family marriage, home and protector of all married, so I imagine that she's quite conservative and that (despite the fact that her family is a hot, hot mess) she likes to present the image of the perfect family, kind of like a first lady. She just brings to mind the type of wealthy lady-of-the-manor Virgo woman who runs a tight ship (i.e.: the house/the estate).

Demeter - Cancer

I was debating on whether or not to make sis a Pisces. But, Cancer is linked to the mother and maternal instincts, which I think is fitting. Cancer is a very maternal sign (at least, there's a lot of significance with Cancer and its relationship to motherhood). The most famous myth involving Demeter is about her daughter Persephone being kidnapped by Hades, and how that affected her emotionally. Demeter is described as being very maternal, protective and kind and embodying a very specific type of love, the "mother's love". One the flip side though, she's also quite OVER-protective. She really does embody some of the more negative traits of Cancer as well such as smothering and being a bit over-bearing with her love. She also strikes me as the type to be emotionally manipulative and play the melodramatic "after all I've done for you, how could you be so cruel to your own mother😭" and "so what are you going to say at my funeral now that you've killed me😔" victim card that overbearing mothers like to use so much. But she doesn't play when it comes to her babies and loved ones.

Ares - Aries

Obvious Aries is obvious😠. Do I even need to say anything? Aries is ruled by Mars, which is Ares's Roman counter part. The planet Mars symbolizes raw masculine energy (you get words like "martial arts" from that), and so does Ares. Both Aries the sign and Ares the god are loud, quite aggressive, and they like conflict (they find it quite funny, and they can move on from it pretty quick, it doesn't really distress them). There's also the passion and explosive temper. Ares is also brave, strong and straight forward. He's also incredibly protective of those he loves. According to Greek mythology, the first murder was committed by Ares when he killed a man who raped (or tried to rape) his daughter, so don't fuck with an Aries's loved ones.

Athena - Capricorn

Capricorn is ruled by Saturn. In astrology, the moon (which rules Cancer - Capricorn's opposite compliment) is The Mother. It's soft, maternal and nurturing. Saturn is The Father. It's the planet of obstacles and boundaries and is a very harsh, stern planet. Success will come, but only after learning some very hard lessons. If the moon is like a emotional parent that coddles and nurtures their child (Cancer), then Saturn is that strict, tough parent that teaches their child (Capricorn) from day dot that the world is going to be cruel and unfair, and so they want to break you to make you stronger and prepare you for the world. That's what I get from Athena. Athena was born fully grown and fully clothed (in battle gear, at that). She literally came into the world with her guard up. She's the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy (among other things), so she's very pragmatic and somewhat cold (not cruel, but just realistic). She's Zeus's favourite child, which links to her ruling planet being The Father. She's kind of like the embodiment of the woman who works in a male dominated field (which, she does) so she has to work harder, adopt more masculine traits and develop a harder exterior in order to survive and thrive. She's not the most emotional or vulnerable person either, and it's noteworthy that she never had a childhood (again, she was born fully grown), so she's never had any of the innocence and naivete.

Artemis - Cancer

With the twins (Artemis and Apollo), Apollo is the sun while Artemis is the moon. Since Cancer is ruled by the moon, it makes sense that Artemis would be a Cancerian. This is the third time I'm bringing up Cancer being maternal, but here we are. Artemis has a close relationship with her mother (she killed this one woman's 7 daughters, because said woman was talking smack about her mother), but Artemis also acts as a foster mother for a lot of different people. She's nurturing, compassionate and protective. Artemis is the protector of young women, and women in childbirth (right after she was born, she helped her mother deliver her twin brother, Apollo). She has a group of huntresses (which any girl is allowed to join, so long as they forgo marriage) and she basically becomes like an adoptive mother towards them (she also, in general, likes to take in strays. She’s goddess of moon and hunting so she spends more time in the wild and at night, whereas Apollo spends more time in civilization in the daytime).

Apollo - Leo

Obvious leo is obvious 🦁. Leo's ruling planet is the sun, and is symbolized by a lion with a ~fabulous~ golden main. Apollo is the sun god (among other things). He drives the sun chariot every day and is always described as having long blond (or ✨golden✨) locks, a golden tan, and is just ridiculously bright and golden overall. Hence his other name being "Phoebos Apollo" (Phoebus meaning “bright”). Leo rules the 5th house, which is basically the house of having fun and being yourself, which matches Apollo. He's one of the more active and fun personalities. He's an over achiever (God of music, poetry, prophecy, archery, young men) and is considered to be the most beautiful male god on Olympus. Like most Leos, humility is not his greatest strength, to say the least. He's dramatic, loves attention and likes to stand out and be the sun (around which everything revolves), like a leo, too.

Hephaestus - Taurus

I really don't know why, and I'm exhausted from writing so much for everyone else. I really don't know which sign to put him in, but Taurus seems to match him. Mainly because he's patient and calm. He's a kind(er) soul who just minds his business and does his work. I know Taurus gets a bad rap for being "lazy", but Taurus actually are quite hard workers. They just like to work on their own terms, and usually the more "slow and steady" type (but still hard work with results). Tauruses also love beautiful things, and Hephaestus is an amazing craftsman who's created the most beautiful jewelry that's ever been made. Taurus is also a very possessive sign that is easily prone to jealousy when it comes to their romantic partner. This is exactly how Hephaestus is when it comes to his wife, Aphrodite (who frequently cheats, since she never wanted to marry him in the first place). The fact that Haphaestus STILL loves her and tries his best to prove himself to her an impress her by making all that jewelery for her (even though it's clear that she just doesn't love him, and the relationship won't ever be what he wants) is something a Taurus would do, as they are solid, committed people. Once they've decided they want to make a relationship work, they're fully committed to it. He does have a temper, but it's generally a long fuse, and he seems to function by the law of "don't start none, won't be none". Very Taurus. They mind their business and they don't start mess...but they will end it. The Taurus fuse is very long, but once it goes off...

Aphrodite - Libra

Obvious Libra is obvious😘. Libra is ruled by Venus, the Roman counterpart of Aphrodite. As the goddess of love and beauty, I don't think it's all that surprising to have Aphrodite be a Libras. Libras could flirt for their nation. They're also a bit vain, like Aphrodite, and they can be people pleasers. But, it's well intentioned. Libras are the scale because they like balance and harmony, and they generally don't care for discord or unpleasantries. Aphrodite is the mother of the goddess Harmonia (goddess of harmony) as well. The vanity also comes from their artistic love of beauty, as libra a generally a very creative sign. If the libra themselves isn't creative, they at least appreciate creativity and art.

Hermes - Gemini

Obvious Gemini is obvious. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, which is the Roman counterpart to Hermes. Gemini are multifaceted which makes sense for Hermes as he does a lot of different things. Kind of like a jack of all trades but master of none kind of deal. Hermes is one of the smartest gods in a witty, inventive and humorous way. He was Zeus's second favourite child and his favourite son, and has a more trickster vibe to him. A bit of a scam artist. Hermes is also the god of travelers and thieves. Man just has a way of charming people into liking him, which is a very Gemini trait. As the messenger for the gods, Hermes is also the god of communication (probably a bit of a gossip)...and lord knows Gemini's can talk your ear off. Hermes has a pair of sandles with wings to help with his messenger duties, so he's very fast and is all over the place, since he was so much to do and is always on the go (Gemini rules the 3rd house which is the house of, among other things, short distance travel).

Dionysus - Aquarius

The laid back stoner of the group. And a cult leader. He not only invented wine, but was also the god of substance use, ecstasy and madness. I find it hard to describe Dionysus just like I find it hard to describe Aquarius. I know that traits, but they're just too complex to be able to describe in a single sentence. Like Aquarius, Dionysus and his cult originally was a place where marginalized people could feel free. Sticking it to the man and whatnot, which goes with the activism and revolution that comes with Aquarius, along with the idea of paradise.

#astro observations #astrology #percy jackson #greek mythology #percy jackson and the olympians #sagittarius #pisces #scorpio #cancer #virgo #aquarius #libra #gemini #greek gods

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handonshipper · 3 years

Text

If I Knew Then What I Know Now: Chapter Three

Hope headed downstairs after putting her father to sleep. The voices in her head caused by the Hollow were getting to her. It was getting harder and harder to manage. The most relief she had gotten since she took in the Hollow's magic again was when she was spending time with the waiter from the Mystic Grill, Landon Kirby, yesterday. Something about being around him was different. A little distracting at least. But she was dangerous to be around right now, and she knew it. Which was why she did not consider going to find him.

The tribrid wondered what exactly the waiter was doing in New Orleans, her home town. Was it merely a coincidence or something more? She felt drawn to trust Landon and felt comfortable around him, but she had also recently been betrayed by Roman, her ex boyfriend, which resulted in her mother's death. At the thought of this, the voices grew, and she struggled to ignore them. She breathed out slowly and entered Rousseau's bar. "Declan, hey, I need a favor from the bar." Suddenly her body froze as she spotted a familiar face, her anger flaring up again. Elijah Mikaelson. Her uncle. "What are you doing here? Killing my mom wasn't enough? Now you've come for Declan?"

"That's not what I'm here for." Elijah disagreed, but Hope didn't care. She just wanted to be angry at him. To not let her own guilt sink in. It was painful enough the brief moment it had while she was with Landon. It was easier for her to be angry with Elijah instead of facing all of it. And the voices in her head certainly weren't helping.

"He killed her" Declan said, stunned.

"That's not what happened." Elijah defended

"No, but if you weren't there, she'd still be alive." Hope said, and her rage fueled the voices, causing then only to get louder and louder. She clutched her head. "Stop! God, stop!"

"What's going on with you?" Declan asked, confused and concerned at what was happening to her. He moved to go towards her but stopped as Elijah grabbed his arm.

"Stop! Shut up! Shut up!" Hope shouted. Their voices certainly weren't helping the situation.

"What did you do?" Declan interrogated Elijah. Elijah grabbed him by the neck and pinned him up against the bar.

"Hey, don't hurt him!" Hope said, moving closer, momentarily distracted from the voices by the scene before her.

"I won't. We can't do this in front of him."

"Okay, fine." She waved her hand and put Declan to sleep. The human then fell to the floor. "Now it's just the two of us."

"My memory was gone. I didn't know who she was."

Considering everything the tribrid was feeling at the moment, that wasn't a good enough excuse. "Well, now you do. How does it feel?"

"Like the worst pain I've ever experienced."

The whispers got more intense in her head, and she put her hands on her head and looked around a little, trying to force away the voices. She lowered her hands and looked at her uncle. "I hate you."

"I hate me, too." Elijah said, self loathing obvious in his eyes.

Hope knew she shouldn't blame him, but right now she needed to be angry with someone, and it was easy to be angry with him. "You let her die." In a flash of rage, consumed by emotions and the hollow's magic, Hope waved a hand, cutting him magically repeatedly as though she was clawing into him until he collapsed

"Hope" spoke a familiar voice, but the tribrid didn't give herself a chance to process who the voice belonged to. In a flash of rage, she waved her hand back and caused a deep gash across the person that entered. "Hope" the voice repeated, though now it had a groan, and the tribrid suddenly realized who the voice belonged to.

Landon Kirby.

Landon was walking down the street as he thought about everything that happened. He wanted to make sure Hope was alright. He hadn't seen her since the day before. But he also did not want to interact with her, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew that he was no longer the same Landon Kirby he had been before he melted into a pile of goo. Before he had been sent to Malivore and lived what felt like years in complete isolation, Before he had to fight monsters in the prison world to survive.

He knew he was darker, fought with both brawn and brain. He attacked first and didn't let himself worry about the consequences. He just needed to fight and kill. That had been his mindset for the past several weeks since he got out of Malivore. And now he was here, surrounded by people.... It was a lot, and he wasn't sure that he could manage it well enough not to end up being a burden on Hope or anyone else.

Suddenly, he heard Hope's voice from inside Rousseau's as he neared it. "Stop! Shut up! Shut up! Hey, don't hurt him!" There was a little bit of a pause "You let her die!"

A concerned Landon Kirby stepped into Rousseau's and called out her name to get her attention. "Hope" Suddenly, without really paying attention to who it was, Hope waved a hand back. Suddenly, a large gash cut across Landon's chest magically, and he stumbled back a bit, leaning against the wall as blood started soaking his shirt. "Hope" he repeated, groaning a little in pain. This wasn't a wound he could exactly stitch up.

"Landon?" Hope questioned, her eyes widening in horror at what she had done. "Oh god" she said as Landon slowly slid to the ground, putting pressure to his own wound. She grabbed something sharp from nearby and cut her palm. "Here, drink this", she said, putting it near his mouth but not on it.

Landon shook his head, not wanting to risk being sent back to Malivore. He wasnt sure what exactly happened. But he also didn't want to take any chances.

"It can heal you. Drink" Hope said, looking at him, her eyes wide in concern.

Landon shook his head again. "Not you" he said, forcing back a groan of pain

A hurt expression flickered across her face, and she moved her hand away. He could see her wound closing up. Her uncle, Elijah, was healing from his own wounds at the moment.

"Hope. What happened?" Klaus questioned, walking inside the bar.

"I uh. I attacked Elijah, and Landon came in. And I accidentally hurt him too" Hope said. "And he's refusing to drink my blood. I don't know why. I told him it would help"

Klaus walked over and bit his own wrist before feeding it to Landon forcefully. Landon drank some of the hybrid's blood. He coughed some of it up, anxious about how vampire blood would affect him. But the blood already started to heal him. His eyes drifted shut and Landon lost consciousness.

Hope was pacing downstairs in the Mikaelson home, trying to keep herself calm and have as much control over the whispers as she could. It had died down after she hurt Elijah. The pain wasn't as bad as it had been before. But she knew it was only temporary. She looked up as her father came downstairs after putting Landon.

"How is he?" She asked immediately.

"He's alright, just sleeping. He's getting a bit feverish, but it's mild." Klaus said, looking at his daughter. "Who is he?"

"His name is Landon, and he's human. He, uh, he used to serve me milkshakes at the Mystic Grill. He took a trip here. I'm not sure how long he is staying. He says it depends on if he has reasons to stay."

"What was that? You won't take my help, you reject the bracelet, you're throwing Elijah around" Klaus said, looking at his daughter with worry.

"It stopped the voices." the tribrid admitted, trying not to sound as vulnerable as she felt.. She had all of this power and she knew it was killing her. And the voices were so intense, part of her wanted to scream and take out all of New Orleans to feel better.. But she didn't want to hurt people. She never wanted that. It was why she worked hard to control her magic so she never used too much. Never used more than necessary for a given occasion. Though she hadn't exactly been following her own rules lately.

Her father looked at her, stunned "What?"

"Ever since I took the power back, the whispers... I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't even breathe. But right now, it's silent. Is this the rest of my life? A rage that can only be quieted by violence?"

"Hope, if violence is what you need to feel better, then you have the perfect father. We'll handle this. In the meantime, you should probably keep your distance from your friend. Landon"

"I was thinking the same thing." Hope said, looking at him. "Thank you for bringing him here and making sure he was alright."

"You're welcome" Klaus said.

"I saw Landon yesterday" she said, trying to talk to him before the voices grew too loud again. "We talked for a bit, and I showed him around New Orleans"

"You could manage it? The voices?"

"It was... I don't know, easier around him. I can't explain it. It was still there and bothersome but it wasn't as bad. I have no idea why" Hope said as she followed her father upstairs to her room. "I thought I could handle it. I really did."

"You're handling it as best you can, and I'm gonna be here with you every step of the way." Klaus promised as he looked at his daughter.

"Will you stay with me awhile?"

"Of course I will. So do you like this boy?"

Hope was silent for a moment, but she was grateful for the focus on Landon instead of the voices constantly in her head. "Even if I did, it doesn't matter"

"What makes you say that?" Klaus questioned curiously.

"My last love interest betrayed me. I dont think I am exactly the right person to be dating"

"The first person I was truly involved with is currently under a sleeping spell in this very building." Klaus pointed out with a slight smile. "Do you like this boy"

"Yes. But I can't think about a relationship" Hope said. She never would be able to. She could feel herself dying. It wasnt fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to get involved with anyone while she was dying. Though she couldnt exactly say that to her father. "He's human. Our family gets ourselves involved in a lot of dangerous situations. And mom just-" She shook her head

"Your mother would want you to be happy"

"I know she would." the tribrid said simply but she had already made up her mind. She wanted Landon to be safe. Not be killed like Camille, Hayley, Jackson, and many others had been while close to their family. If he was genuinely as nice of a guy as he seemed, then she definitely didn't want to ruin his life, which is probably exactly what she would do if her family got involved with him. Invaded his life. He already got hurt because of her. Hope wasn't sure she could avoid that happening again if he didn't leave.

Hope was confused on why he was pushing her to be in a relationship, especially after how he reacted whenever anyone else got in a relationship. However, after looking at him for a moment, she recognized the reasoning from his expression. He wanted her to have hope. To find something to live for and to look forward to. Something to fight for besides family.

#legacies #cw legacies #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #klaus mikaelson #legacies fanfic #legacies fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #handon #hope x landon #landon x hope #If I Knew Then #if i knew then what i know now #if i knew then chapter three #if i knew then what i know now chapter three

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onelungmcclung · 3 years

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Any Speirgott HC's you'd like to share or discuss? :) I'm dying for content.

f i n a l l y

if only you had found me back in my original stint in this fandom when I was thinking about them daily. it’s a great ship, you’re so right. (we don’t like to use the word hyperfixation around here, but I sometimes wonder if this one’s in my future.) do feel free to dm me, if that suits you.

I’m just gonna go all out on my Thoughts and you can do what you want with whatever, you know?

it’s just such an interesting dynamic. the whole “self recognition through the other” vibe, and a slight undercurrent of outsiderhood (though differently experienced). the tension between the mutual recognition of each other as equals (on a personal level) vs the hierarchies and protocols of rank. there is such synchronicity between them when they are clearing the house and liebgott is translating for speirs, which doesn’t occur in their interactions with other characters, even where there are friendships. the undercurrent of humour between them in speirs’s hey liebgott, you want to sit this one out? is small but quite striking.

speirs is able to compartmentalise his emotions and fears whereas liebgott doesn’t; liebgott brings everything into his fight, love and anger and family and history; he is fighting for his people to a greater extent than anyone else in the company. they share a ruthless attitude towards combat and they both adapt relatively well to the environment of war. liebgott, I think, is likely to have a delayed reaction to the horrors he has seen. (he does break down in the camp, but it’s very brief, both because his priority is the wellbeing of the prisoners and because his grief is too raw and personal to display openly in front of the entire company.)

liebgott knows he’s seen a little as an outsider, as the only jewish man in the company, and he’s proud of that identity but he doesn’t talk to anyone about what it means to him; it’s a very personal part of himself, and we only see that vulnerability in the camp. speirs accepts, even welcomes, being seen as an outsider; there’s a value to being feared by one’s men. he references roman history, and so I think it’s nerdy relevant to mention that the latin word vereor means both respect and fear; that is a philosophy he embraces. liebgott does respect him, more quickly than he respects other superiors, and he does, upon occasion, show a degree of fear – namely in the pistol whipping scene – which is unusual for him. that scene is also interesting in that liebgott is the only one who keeps his eyes on speirs the entire time, unlike the others who draw back slightly. (this is in fact the scene where I first started to ship it. a lot.)

they both keep certain things back: liebgott doesn’t show vulnerability if he can avoid it; speirs represses the emotions he can’t wholly compartmentalise. there’s a desire, I think, an instinct, to trust each other, and a reluctance: a tension between letting their guard down vs keeping their distance. they secondguess themselves rather than each other. liebgott is a pretty shrewd observer of other people; speirs, I think, finds interpersonal dynamics a little harder to gauge precisely.

they’re both deeply protective of the people around them: liebgott with tipper, tab, alley, the jewish prisoners; speirs with grant. neither of them default towards gentleness but they’re both capable of great compassion when others need it.

I don’t know if I have many headcanons as such. I think speirs sends liebgott to interrogate/kill the commandant because he trusts liebgott, in this more than anyone else, and because he believes it’s a mission liebgott would want. (speirs has… idiosyncratic ideas about being nice, lol; just ask blithe.)

I think they probably never interacted directly before speirs took over easy company, or certainly not pre-normandy, though they may have been aware of each other. I don’t think liebgott ever cared about the rumours; he had no qualms about speirs killing the german prisoners and, if he was at all disturbed by the rumour about speirs shooting his sergeant, he wouldn’t have shown it. however, they did probably cross paths on the night of the bayonet, when lieb rushed in to help tab and speirs went to investigate the disturbance, and so speirs identifies liebgott as someone who is good in a crisis.

I think speirs much prefers working with liebgott as translator than with webster, in that liebgott is faster and more colloquial but – just as importantly – they fall fluidly into a rapport when working together. on some level, speirs is glad to pull liebgott off the patrol in haguenau; he doesn’t want to lose anyone in the company, but particularly not liebgott.

(I’m not fluent in german but listening to webster’s gives me secondhand embarrassment)

in general I don’t have sexuality headcanons re. any of the characters; but when I write speirgott, my feeling is that this is the first time liebgott has been consciously attracted to men. I don’t think this causes an identity crisis for him; the circumstances of war are too extreme and speirs is, in many ways, an exception to normal rules. pursuing a relationship beyond what is allowed is fraught with difficulty, because of the high stakes and the obstacles of rank and the background of homophobia; I don’t think internalised homophobia is a particular factor. I don’t think it is the first time speirs has been attracted to men, but that does not make the situation simpler. they are all just trying to stay alive and keep the others alive; acting on their attraction may somehow jeopardise that, but also they may never have another chance. their relationship is on a knife-edge at all times: between personal and impersonal, hierarchical and equals, vulnerability and guardedness, secrecy and discovery, life and death.

speirgott has the best potential for all the most gripping AUs, I will stand by that

… anyway, I know I should write more for them – slightly longer fics, I hope – and it’s my tragedy that I seem to have very little control over whatever I next write, but I am extremely glad to know there’s an audience for this ship. I hope I come through for you.

ps. I am entirely up for bouncing ideas/headcanons/plot bunnies around.

#replies #speirgott #speirs x liebgott #I wondered if speirgott would hit me hard on my return to the fandom #but to my surprise mctoye has been the pressing issue #swings and roundabouts #(when I finish writing a long post I'm always like '... was that coherent?' and 'will I think of more later?' ugh.)#'charactering'

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turtletimewriting · 3 years

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Maybe Royality, pleaseee? 'w')s2

I feel like this one was suuuuuper rambly but I’m on a roll haha!

1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?

Roman but only by one spot. Both of them have adorable laughs but Roman has one spot. A very specific scribble between his toes gets a shrieky high pitched laughter. It’s amazing to Patton. Both of them had no idea his voice could get anywhere near that high. Patton once recorded it to send to his actor friends so they can see the highest Roman can get. When they discovered it, Roman demanded he tickles him again to figure just what on earth is that laugh! His face blooms a bright red and his laugh is more like a series of shrieks rather than a laugh. Patton was genuinely stunned to the point where he stopped tickling the first time they discovered it.

2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?

Roman. It’s not a traditional weird tickle spot but more like a normal tickle spot that ticklish in a weird way! Through Patton’s tickle monster ways, they’ve found out Roman’s absolute worse spot, his armpits, gets bigger the more it’s tickled. If a tickling session is just starting then it’s literally only his pits. But the longer you tickle then it stretches to down by his ribs and back towards his back. If you tickled those spots before getting the pits then they’re only a little ticklish but it’s almost like the incredible ticklishness of his pits spreads. Patton can drive him to tears by tickling his back near his pits just from his alone. They don’t do it often because that is his worst spot but Patton loves seeing the panic when Roman realises what’s happening.

3. Who gets cheer-up tickles?

I mentioned in the moxiety one that Patton gets cheered up from tickling someone else. It’s nice to focus on something and know that it’s spreading joy to that person. But Roman is way too stubborn and proud to ever just sit there and take it! Instead, Roman will see that Patton needs some cheering up and he will sit him down on their bed. He’ll grab Patton’s foot and let Patton grab his foot. Then they tickle each other as gently or harshly as needed. Sometimes Patton just needs to let out his frustration and really goes all out on the tickling and teases. It’s especially hard if he asks Roman for light tickles when he doing that. Roman is in hysterics while trying with all his mighty incredibly strength to focus on giving some gentle tickles. Patton gets distracted by tickling someone but also experiences some joy himself. And if Roman has some fun too then that’s just a bonus.

4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?

Patton cannot explain this at all... but somehow, there’s a particular way that Roman tickles his tummy that makes his knees go weak! Patton likes tickling and gets into lee moods but somehow whatever Roman does, is something he absolutely craves and needs in his life! It’s like soft creeping tickles but it tickles just as much as harder tickles! It can render him speechless and he’s not even that ticklish on his tummy! And so, he tries to get stuck in his clothes as often as he can without raising suspicion. Which means he went 15 days straight of getting stuck in his top and wandering around with his little tummy vulnerable to any and all tickles.

5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?

I feel like it would be an accident during their first ever date. Roman is pulling out all the stops. Roses, full tux, candle lit dinner and of course a kiss to the back of Patton’s hand. Over the dinner table, Roman knows it would come off too strong to just hold his hand (as if he hadn’t come on strong already) so he holds his hand under the guise of reading palms. Like the romantic himbo he is. Patton tries to let himself be wooed by Roman but it just tickles too much! He flat out tells Roman.

Now, that raises a problem. Roman instantly become obsessed with how cute that was! Patton is ticklish?! Oh he must have the cutest laugh! Oh I wonder if he blushes! All kinds of sappy thoughts. But the problem comes from the fact he planned for a dramatic event to happen after they leave the restaurant. He planned for the imagination to create a monster to slay so he could impress Patton. But now all he can think about is tickles. So guess who summoned a tickle monster outside of the restaurant and got both of them tickled to tears.

Patton loved everything about the date even if it didn’t go to plan and now he insists on tickle fights every anniversary.

6. Who can’t take tickle bites?

Roman just can’t do it! The closeness, the soft tickles mixed with hard teethy nibbles, the chance for raspberries, just all of it! There’s a reason why he can’t wonder around the flat shirtless after a workout as Patton was latch on to him like an barnacle. He’ll be pouring himself a drink and next thing he knows he’s falling to the floor because Patton is nibbling up and down his sides.

7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?

I think it’s both! I feel like, while they both don’t really like waking up early, they are both used to waking up early and are quite bright eyed in the morning. Roman has to get up early to practise and go do theatre and Patton likes being able to have a nice breakfast of pancakes and he wants the time to do that. But! It’s now a competition. They both try to set their alarms earlier every single day (only by 5 mins because they do like sleep) so they can be the one to tickle the other awake. But they’re both super obvious about it. Roman will set an alarm with the hugest grin ever while Patton outright giggles and wiggles as he sets his alarm. Both of them want the joy of waking the other and hearing their sleepy husky giggles.

They both know if they looked at each other’s phone then they could figure out to set their alarm earlier and win the game. But that’s cheating! It’s all a game! Maybe Roman wants a lie in and so 8am in early enough, but maybe he had theatre tomorrow so maybe an alarm for 7am is better? They go to bed excited for the next morning and wake up the next morning with laughter.

8. Who gives up in a tickle fight?

Both of them can be incredibly stubborn and determined to win a tickle fight but Patton is waaay less competitive compared to Roman. They’ll both put up a brave fight but if it becomes apparent that Roman wants to win then he’ll happily sit back and enjoy his reckoning. Roman sometimes gets too wrapped up in winning to enjoy the tickles and the playfulness so sometimes he’ll immediately go after a death spot even if Patton goes for a normal spot to make a longer tickle fight.

9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?

Roman is strong. Like super strong. But he’s also aware of this. He knows to keep his flailing limbs to himself and mostly just wiggles around and tries to escape. But Patton. I love the idea of Patton being so much stronger than anyone, including him, realises. He’s done baking for years. He’s got those baking muscles of mixing tough doughs and whipping cream by hand. Patton wiggles around a lot and while he does try to never push the tickler away but there are times he tries to gently push Roman away. Only to end up smacking Roman’s chest and even leaving a red imprint of his hand. He’s always super embarrassed and ashamed he hit Roman but Roman meanwhile is bluescreening because he’s got a strong boyfriend. Secret hidden muscle Pat...

10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?

As seen in question 4, the master of provoking tickles is Patton. But that doesn’t mean Roman doesn’t have his moments of wearing those tank tops with the really low sides, so his sides and pits are vulnerable. But Patton will make a huge deal of their size difference. I imagine Patton as really short and petite while Roman is average height but just really built up. So Patton, like the delicate twink boyfriend he is, will fall into his muscly boyfriend’s lap and swing his arms around Roman’s neck. His pits nice and vulnerable. Then he’ll press their feet together and slightly tickle Roman with his feet to provoke. Oh no, he has no chance against tickles from his bigger strong boyfriend!

(by the way, Patton absolutely plays up their height difference when also wrecking Roman. “Oh no, really? You can’t fight back against me? The tiny eeny weeny Pat is really tickling the big powerful Roman to tears?”. Patton just likes having a big strong boyfriend!)

#roman sanders #patton sanders #Tickling #TurtleTalking #headcanon #Lee Patton #lee roman #ler patton #ler roman

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enemyofrome · 3 years

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dear yuletide author

Hello, Yuletide Author!

Thank you so much for writing for me! I hope you have fun with this, and I’m already super excited to read whatever you come up with! :D

Things I like: enemies-to-lovers, enemies-as-lovers, subtle humour, competence kink, characters who appear imperturbable or flippant but are riddled with painful vulnerabilities, and the reluctant showing of that vulnerability. I’ll read anything from plotty intrigue to plotless fluff. Also 1000000% here for AUs (modern, ancient, coffee shop, soulmate, whatever) and crossovers between any or all of my requested fandoms. Historical accuracy appreciated; historical liberties welcome.

Things I’d rather not read: original characters in a major role, genderbends unless specified, A/B/O, conflicts based on misunderstandings or romantic jealousy.

Things I don’t want to read: “period-typical” misogyny/homophobia, graphic violence or torture, erasure of canonical disabilities, animal death, incest, rape, abusive relationships. Toxic family dynamics are a particular trigger and I’d rather a fic not focus on them too much, even if it’s canon. I read all ratings, but I tend to skim sex scenes unless they do something for plot and characterisation.

Past letters: 2020 | 2019 | 2017

Requests:

1. Punic Wars RPF (Hannibal Barca)

I love that Hannibal was not only good at War Things but extremely well-read and erudite; he spoke multiple languages, wrote treatises in Greek, enjoyed wordplay and snark, etc, and was a grumpy introvert who disliked posturing and had to be wheedled away from his work to go to banquets and such.

Competence kink is what I’m saying. Competence kink.

(I love all of the Barcids, and would happily read anything about any of them, so don’t feel like you have to focus exclusively on the Hannibabe himself!)

Ideas:

I ship Hannibal and Scipio to hell and back but would also enjoy them as best friends/frenemies with benefits/partners-in-crime etc, though I would rather you not pair them with anyone else but each other. (That being said, Scipio is optional. Rome is optional. War is optional. If you wanted to write a fic that focused exclusively on Hannibal and his family, I’d be so down.)

This is a fandom where I’d particularly appreciate light-heartedness, not least because Hannibal was a historically attested Little Shit with a wicked sense of humour. Sibling bonding! Cracky extended family gatherings! Giving Romans aneurysms! Giving his allies aneurysms!

Honest efforts at historical accuracy will be very, very appreciated, but I would also enjoy alternate universes of any sort. Modern AU! Space AU! Carthage Wins AU! Etc. (Just no The Barcids As Romans AUs, please.)

If you're looking for more inspiration, or just eye candy, here's a docudrama starring Alexander Siddig as Hannibal. There's also Extra History for a quick and humorous if not wholly accurate crash course on the First and Second Punic Wars, featuring some adorable stick figures. And here’s my Punic Wars tag on tumblr, where I yell often and copiously.

(Don’t erase Hannibal’s canonical disability, please! See above for more detailed DNWs.)

2. Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones (Howl Pendragon)

Ideas:

A pre-canon fic set in Wales would be amazing. What was Howl like in university? We know from DWJ that he majored in philosophy—why? Did he ever finish writing his dissertation on spells? When did he first know he was a wizard? How, exactly, did he find the door to Ingary? Was he telling the truth when he said he never met Suliman in Wales? (My ship of choice is Howl x Ben Suliman—my take on it here and here—and I would literally liquefy if you wrote this for me, but you don't have to.)

Howl's early years in Ingary are also really interesting to me. Like, it can't have been easy setting up a life in an entirely new world where he had no money and didn't know anyone. How did he get by? Why on earth did he catch Calcifer? Did he have to use Sophie's cayenne pepper trick a lot when he was first "starting out in a small way"? How did he meet Mrs. Pentstemmon? How many aunts brained him with their frying pans for seducing their niblings?

Or something that fills in the gaps in HMC. Sophie is a really unreliable narrator at the best of times, which is one of the most intriguing and frustrating things about the book, because there's so much we just don't know. What was Howl doing behind the scenes to try and save Suliman and Justin? Where did he really go when he was supposedly out courting? What were his first impressions of Sophie (besides DEATH BY CLEANING)? When did he fall in love with her?

(My HMC tag is here!)

3. Lymond Chronicles - Dorothy Dunnett (Francis Crawford of Lymond)

Ideas:

Injury! Sickfic! Huddling for warmth with a person of your choice! In a series that is about 99 parts hurt to one part comfort, I will take all of the hurt/comfort tropes, romantic or platonic. (The scene in Game of Kings where Richard nurses Lymond back to health is one of my most favourites -- it’s quite possibly the point where I was like, oh no, this series is going to be ingrained in my brain forever.)

Any sort of AU where Lymond and Marthe grow up together/are raised as siblings, and get up to all kinds of shenanigans. (Unpopular opinion: Marthe is one of my favourite characters, and while you don’t need to include her at all, I’d love it if you did!)

An exploration of the many, many people who had fleeting (or not-so-fleeting) crushes on Lymond, and perhaps even his perspective on said crushes -- I’m talking Will, Jerott, Mariotta, Mikal, etc.

Something stupidly, unapologetically cracky, that makes it impossible to take Lymond seriously. Because let’s face it, we deserve it. A wild sheep chase? Some ridiculous harebrained plan to accomplish some impossibly obscure objective? Lymond accidentally discovering the one thing on earth he’s not good at? Bonus points if Philippa has to rescue him, and someone ends up under the table laughing.

(Dorothy Dunnett tag here and here!)

#yuletide 2021

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