#edit: i take it back i love this colouring BAH

[jimines]

this is my villain origin story.

#jimin #bts #btsgoldnet #clubjimin #bangtanarmynet #pjmdaily #purplearmynet #armysource #btsgif #bangtan #park jimin #ptd on stage seoul #fake love #c.gifs #kinda iffy on the colouring but nevertheless the caption holds true #edit: i take it back i love this colouring BAH

[a-vintage-snake]

Don’t Make Me Be The Bad Guy

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Moceit

Warnings: Dystopian future, implied torture

Characters: Janus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Summary: After seven years of fighting, Patton and his superhero team finally capture the super villain known as Deceit. But when Patton discovers evidence that sheds a new light on their nemesis he starts to wonder... Did he do the right thing?

Word Count: 9411

Author’s Note: For @dramaticsnakes, who’s a wonderful reader and writer. And special thanks to @rainbowbutterfrosting who helped me finish this when I almost wanted to give up. (Also, as always I upload and edit the mistakes out after, so bear with me)

Read on AO3

In the end, it had been Patton who had struck the final blow.

It had been mostly a matter of luck, really. One moment where Patton managed to break through the henchmen’s defences. One moment where he saw that their nemesis’ back was turned to him. One moment where he made a split decision.

One moment. And that moment had made all the difference.

He didn’t quite realize he had thrown one of his famous lightning bolts until it hit square between his enemy’s shoulder blades. He stood there, paralyzed, as Janus Lyre (alias Doctor Deceit) crumbled to the floor. The battle around them grounded to a halt as well, as the henchmen saw their leader unconscious at the feet of their enemies. His teammates froze as well, looking up at Patton in gaping disbelief.

When time finally seemed to start again, everything went by in a blur. The henchmen managed to escape, unfortunately with the super weapon Patton and his team had come to destroy. But it didn’t even seem to matter.

“By Odin’s beard, Padre!” Roman lifts him up in a hug. “You did it!!”

“I… I did?” Patton confusedly asks, still feeling a little dizzy.

“You got him! You actually got him!” Roman puts him back on his feet with a giant grin on his face. “We can finally put him away!” “But the weapon-!”

“Forget the weapon! We’ve got the bastard, Heart!” Virgil grins. “After seven years we finally got him! It’s over!”

“Well, not exactly,” Logan pipes in, although he can’t seem to stop grinning too. “There’s still the matter of rounding up the rest of his organization-”

“Technical details, my friend!” Roman dramatically waves Logan’s objections away. “We got their leader! Not a henchman, not some lackey, their actual leader! How long do you think until their little League of Losers falls apart?”

“Even so,” Logan says. “Better not celebrate until Doctor Deceit is safely behind bars. You three search the building. Who knows, maybe some of his henchmen are still hiding somewhere,” Logan throws a scornful look down at the unconscious Janus at their feet. “I will stay here and stand guard.”

“Ah yes, I was just about to suggest that!” Roman says as he flips his hair proudly. “Great intuition, Nerdy and the Brain!”

“Yes, sounds like a good plan!” Patton quickly squeaks as Logan gains a look that says he’s about a minute away from using his telekinesis to throw Roman across the room. “How about you call in our superiors, Logan? We need to put this villain behind bars!”

“Excellent idea, Heart Shock.” Logan says gratefully, while ignoring Roman’s protesting noises. Roman loved making the calls on jobs well done (which to be fair hadn’t occurred often lately).

“Great!” Patton grabs the hand of the still protesting Roman and pulls him along. “Come on Prince!”

Roman pouts and grumbles, but allows Patton to pull him further into the dark lair. He catches a glimpse of Virgil’s grin before he turns a corner.

“Bet you I can find something cool before you do!” Patton smiles up at Roman. His teammate’s grumpy face instantly brightens.

“Oh, you’re on Padre!”  

Dissolving into giggles Patton and Roman run down the halls. Roman could easily outfly him, yet he chooses to run alongside Patton for now. Giddily Patton runs towards a promising looking door at the end of the hallway.

Throwing it open he however sags in disappointment as the room they found only holds a couple cardboard boxes.

“Bah, nothing of importance,” Roman says as he kicks over the boxes and nothing but rusty spare mechanical parts fall out. “I suppose even villains need a trash cupboard. Come Heart!” Roman levitates from the ground. “Let us find something more dastardly!”

Before Patton can say anything Roman flies out of the room. Judging from the clanging sounds he’s already searching in a room further ahead. Patton casts one last glance around the room before he shrugs and turns to follow.

He pauses.

Uncertainly he turns around again. Something about the room doesn’t feel… Right. He knows it, yet he can’t put his finger on it why exactly. His powers crackle in his veins, sensing the off-ness in the air.

Cautiously Patton walks around the room, circling the walls slowly with one hand trailing amongst the bricks. The sense of wrongness only increases until…

In front of a seemingly bare wall he stops. There it is. He feels an unusual amount of electricity clustering behind the stone, yet the wall shows no outer signs of being anything else than… Well, a wall. Curiously Patton puts both his hands on the bricks and closes his eyes.

The world behind his eyelids lights up in bursts of electricity. His power hums in tune with the wires inside the walls, stringing all over the building and mapping out the lair in his mind’s eye in perfect detail. Patton only takes short notice of it before he calls his powers back and focuses it all on the wall before him. Yes, there it was. His powers outline a door in the wall, carefully hidden behind a buzzing security system.

Well, no match for him! Patton only needs to concentrate for a few seconds to have the electricity revert and change directions. Flexing his fingers and furrowing his brow he wills the electricity to move into the opposite direction, to change their route, until finally he hears a click. Patton opens his eyes. He pulls his hands back as the wall shifts and a door opens, so seamlessly hidden in the brick it was invisible to the bare eye. Patton allows himself a proud grin. Oh, he was on a roll today! Patton steps into the room, his footsteps echoing in the darkness. He searches for a light switch, but he can’t find one nearby. No matter! With a soft snap small lightning bolts dance on his fingers, revealing rich red walls which somehow complimented the flickering lightning in his hands.

The room is mostly bare, apart from a table in the centre of the room. It’s covered with various maps, some showing population size while others showing outlines of cities, roads and shops. There were some pencils and pens in the middle of the table, most sharp and pointed while a few were so dull that they couldn't be used anymore.

Patton noticed only one chair at the table. He only looked at it, remembering the times were Logan lectured him about not touching the crime scene unless absolutely necessary. Still, the chair seemed comfortable, the black leather clearly in great condition.

His eyes drift slightly downwards towards the cabinets under the table. They all looked the same to him, a spruce colour with a silver handle that could be pulled out. He crouches as he tries to pull open the drawer without ruining the possibility of getting fingerprints. What kind of horrors would he find in there? Knowing Janus it was probably something awful, like torture devices, or puppets of them with their eyes crossed out, or… Or…

Not able to take it any longer, Patton pulls open the drawer. He draws back, covering his face with his arms and waiting for poisonous darts or something to strike out and hit him. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Patton carefully peeks over his arms.

Inside the drawer... is just files. No cyanide, no razor-sharp knives, just... files. Patton lowers his arms and opens the one next to it, with more haste than the last one, only to find more files. Huh… That’s… Not what he was expecting? He honestly didn't know what he expected to find. It's not like the files were bad to find, it just didn't give him the rush of putting in the last piece to a puzzle. Capturing Janus almost felt like that. He knew he should have been more proud of himself, but this wasn't even close to the end of it. There still were all of Janus' accomplices and the propaganda he spread throughout several cities to take care of after all. Maybe the files had the names of his accomplices in them?

Forgetting Logan’s warning about contaminating the crime scene Patton grabs one of the files from the drawer and absentmindedly flips it open.

A scream echoes across the halls. Patton jerks up, forgetting the papers in his hand as the sound of struggle trail toward him. He jumps up, stuffs the files in his jacket before he runs back to where they left their enemy tied up.

It appears that backup had arrived, and in that same time their enemy had woken up. Several soldiers struggle with restraining a livid Janus, who trashes in their grip as they try to drag him into an awaiting prison van. They had managed to gag him before he woke, a muzzle strapped to his face to protect the soldiers from the venom of both his words and his fangs. He fights wildly, but in the end he is still one man against too many. As they finally wrestle him to the ground to clap him in handcuffs, he and Patton make eye contact.

Despite that he just knocked the man unconscious, despite that Janus is currently lying on the ground restrained by ten men, Patton instinctively takes a step back from the pure fury in those mismatched eyes.

Janus looks at him like he singlehandedly doomed the world.

One soldier pushes a taser onto his neck. Janus’ eyes roll back in his head as he convulses on the ground, muffled cries coming from behind the muzzle. When the taser withdraws Janus slumps to the ground, unconscious once more. Finally the soldiers can drag him into the prison van.

“Haha, yes!!” Roman yells. “You shall taste justice now, villain!”

Roman laughs, but it is only when the doors of the van close and they drive off that Patton feels like he can breathe again.

--

The press conferences were always Patton’s least favourite part. To stand next to their CEO, listening to a briefing of yet another failed mission while the people in the crowd shook their head in disapproval had always been torture. The longer the years went on the worse the pressure to actually defeat their villain became. To come back to the cameras every time Janus escaped became worse and worse as the years went on. The disappointment of not only the AEP, but of the people… That alone felt worse than any punch he had ever gotten in battle.

Now however Patton felt like he could just burst from all the excitement. He could barely stand still enough for his stylists to brush his hair into a tamer shape. He peeked behind the curtains to the gilded ballroom beyond. The AEP had chosen this specific ballroom to announce the big news on purpose. Just two years ago Janus and his horrid crew had crashed a fundraiser being held here and had stolen all the people’s so graciously donated funds for a new hotel. They hadn’t been able to capture him. It had been an awful night!

To be here again was to show that villain they were not afraid. That they could claim back the spaces he so rudely invaded. Seeing all the people in their beautiful evening gowns and best jewellery now made Patton want to burst out from behind the curtain to yell at them that they were safe!! He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, wanted to yell at the entire world!

You are safe! We rescued you! I defeated the villain, I did, I did-!!

“Here are our heroes of the day!”

Distracted Patton looks back to see their CEO has come backstage. Bentley Ceund is a man in his late fifties, with a bleach blond hair dye job that does not quite hide away his grey roots, as always dressed in a stylishly expensive suit. He was the one who had founded the AEP, or An Endless Peace organization, all those years ago. Yet outside of press conferences they did not see him often. And even when they did, it were often meetings filled with harsh words and bitter disappointment.  

“Have I wasted all my money on THIS?!” Their CEO had bellowed at them the last time they had seen him, when Janus had destroyed several important construction sites. “On FAILURES who can’t even capture ONE MEASLY MAN?!” Angry spit had hit Patton in the face as he struggled to hold back tears when Bentley had moved in close and screamed in their faces. “You’re a fucking EMBARRESEMENT to ME and the company who RAISED YOU FROM BIRTH!! UNGRATEFUL, WORTHLESS WASTES OF TIME!!”

Their TV and leisure time privileges had been taken away from them for quite some time back then.

That screaming man from last time was a far cry from the smiling one that approaches them now however. No, he in fact gives the others a joyful hug and praise. Roman and Logan beam, and even Virgil smiles hesitantly. When he turns to him Patton nervously fidgets for a moment, but Bentley gives him the possibly the grandest smile out of all of them.

“Heart Shock!” Bentley laughs as he draws Patton into a hug. He never uses their real names, even though he knew them by those well before their superhero names. “Well done, my boy!”

“T-Thank you sir!” Patton says excitedly, almost melting into the hug despite the overwhelming smell of body spray. He can’t help it. It wasn’t often he was the one who got most of the praise. That was usually either Logan or Roman. “I couldn’t have done it without the others though-!”

“No need to be so modest,” Bentley draws back from the hug, put keeps his hands on Patton’s shoulder. “I’ve read the report. You are the one shot down that son of a bitch!

“Oh, well,” Patton flusters. “Anyone could have done it-!”

But in the end it was you.” Their CEO chuckles, almost fondly. “Be proud of yourself, son. Thanks to you…” Bentley pats him on the shoulder. “The company is safe again.” “And the innocent civilians, sir!” Patton helpfully says.

“Hmm? Oh yes, those too I suppose.”

Patton frowns lightly, but before he can say anything Bentley’s PA interrupts.

“Mister Ceund? The program is about to begin.”

“Ah, yes! It’s time boys!” Bentley grins towards his superheroes. “Let’s tell the world what we have achieved today!” He gives Patton a pat on his cheek before he turns and walks to the curtains, waiting for the moment to make his grand entrance. Patton frowns, but he doesn’t have the time to think for long. Their CEO walks onto the stage where thunderous applause greets him. Eventually Patton just shrugs and stands with his teammates, dismissing the uncomfortable thoughts.

As the applause slowly grows to a halt, Bentley takes centre stage. “Today is a momentous occasion,” He says into the microphone. “After seven years of making our streets unsafe, the villain known as Doctor Deceit has finally been put behind bars!”

The crowd erupts into applause, filling the gilded ballroom with cheers and cameras flashing. Beside him Virgil flinches from the sudden noise. Patton discretely slips his hand into Virgil’s and squeezes. Virgil gives a grateful squeeze back.

“Today, history has been made. Today this organization has finally achieved that which we have promised you, all those years ago…” Their CEO pauses for a second, before proudly continuing. “An Endless Peace.”

The crowd applauds again, laughing politely at the reference of the company name.

“But of course, we did not do it alone!”

Patton and the others took a deep breath. Right. Time for the show!

“Please welcome your heroes! Here is Prince Charming!”

On that cue Roman flies up from behind the curtains and the crowd erupts into cheers. Roman flies his usual round over the crowd, occasionally sharing a high-five with an audience member and flashing his fans a million-dollar smile. Several men and women giggle and blush behind their hands as he flips his hair and blows kisses to the crowd.

“Show-off…” Virgil silently scoffs beside him.

“Come now, Virge,” Patton whispers back. “You know Roman loves the cameras! Let him have his fun.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but still a fond smile curls up his lips.

“Next, give it up for Brain Teaser!”

Logan purses his lips and sighs, but makes his entrance from behind the curtains anyway. Virgil and Patton exchange a knowing look. They’d listened to plenty of Logan’s rants about how ‘utterly illogical’ the serious man thought his superhero name was. Unfortunately the public was by now too familiar with the name to even suggest renaming him.

“Let me hear you for Stormcloud!”

Virgil supresses a shudder yet he still reluctantly dematerializes, only to rematerialize on stage in a cloud of shadows. While the crowd only grows in volume Patton winces in sympathy. The EAP knows how much Virgil can’t stand loud sounds, but for the audience he has to bear it with a smile. It was a weakness their enemies had exploited frequently. Janus would often blast high-pitched noises at such a volume Virgil would crumble where he stood, allowing him to escape over and over.  

Well, Patton thinks with a tinge of pride, he won’t harm his friends ever again now.

“And of course, last but certainly not least… The man of the hour! The hero who struck the deciding blow! Put your hands together for HEART SHOCK!”

The curtains are drawn and Patton is momentarily blinded from the hundreds of cameras flashing and deafened by the crowd cheering. Squinting Patton stands in the spotlight, dizzily smiling at the onslaught of praise that is directed his way. He walks forward- Although it feels like stumbling is a better word- to the front of the stage to where the CEO waits for him with a smile. Journalists crowd the stage as they shout questions.

“Heart Shock!! Heart Shock, over here-!”

“Heart Shock, how do you feel-?”

“What was going through your head?”

“How did you take the villain down? We want all the juicy details-!”

“Everyone, everyone! Please!” Bentley laughs. “One question at a time, please!”

Patton yelps as Bentley puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a side hug like he’s a proud father. The cameras around them go nuts as their CEO smiles and poses with Patton.

“How are you feeling, Heart Shock?” One journalist manages to yell over the cacophony of questions.

“W-Well…” Patton stammers into the microphone. “I-I feel quite proud-!”

“A well deserved pride, my boy!” Bentley says jovially as he squeezes his shoulder.

“Yeah… I suppose it is-!” Patton smiles.

“Heart Shock! How do you think the villain will react to his status as prisoner?” One journalist yells, a question that is met with gaudy giggles.

“I guess…” Patton says with hesitant excitement. “He’ll find it…” He snaps his fingers, lightning dancing over his hands as he finger guns at the audience. “Quite shocking?”

To Patton’s bewildered delight the entire audience erupts into laughs. Even Bentley next to him laughs, while he had always disapprovingly glared before when Patton made a pun. Patton can’t stop the grin that spreads on his face even if he had wanted to.

The rest of the evening goes by in a haze. As the press conference part of the evening ends and the superheroes must mingle with the guests, the praise just keeps on coming. Patton gets patted on the back, hugged and complimented. The sheer amount of attention is dizzying. Patton can’t stop smiling throughout all of it. It might just be the best evening in his life.

It isn’t until he’s in bed, still glowing with pride and from all the praise, that Patton remembers the files in his jacket.

His superhero jacket lays thrown into a corner, cast aside earlier as he quickly got into a clean, more sleek version of his hero outfit for the press conference. Giving it a glance from where he sits on his bed he’s almost tempted to leave it until next morning. His handlers had actually given him hot chocolate and two cookies before bed! Two!! That was a treat he didn’t often get! He just wants to enjoy them in peace.

Still… Perhaps he could hand them over tomorrow, announcing all the wicked plans that are undoubtedly in the files that he had also stopped when he captured Janus. Grinning at that mental image Patton gets up from and retreats back into his comfy bed with the files, munching on a cookie as he lazily starts skimming through the papers.

An hour later his hot chocolate has long run cold and the second cookie lies forgotten on its tray. Patton sits straight up in his bed, the files open on his knees and his gaze firmly locked on the wall in front of him. His first cookie feels like lead in his stomach.

It couldn’t be the truth… It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be!!

Abruptly coming back into motion Patton stuffs the files under his mattress and turns off the light to sleep, determined not to even consider or think about what is in them anymore. Yet it takes him until the first rays of dawn to finally fall asleep, and even when he does sleep his dreams are filled with mismatched eyes that look at him with a gaze that burns, burns, burns…

During the days of the week that follows he’s fine. He can smile and take the praise that he’s still showered with daily, with the files only a distant memory.

During the nights, however… Patton can’t seem to shake the image of those eyes. Furious, loathing mismatched eyes, looking at him like he singlehandedly doomed the world. The files underneath his mattress seem to burn a hole in his soft bedding, demanding his attention.

It is only a week later when he awakens from yet another nightmare plagued by those accusing eyes that Patton realizes this can’t go on. He has to know what it all means, or he might go mad with the questions that swarm his mind.

--

The next night Patton foregoes his bed in favour of slipping out of his room into the quiet halls of the facility, the files tucked away in his jacket. Sweat beads down his forehead, the familiar thrum of electricity inside the walls only a faint comfort. Although he only needs to make the barest effort to make the security cameras divert from him, the action still makes his hands shake. As he sneaks into the elevator at the end of the hall he inspects the buttons. You need a special pass to go to the very lowest level. But Patton only needs to send a pulse of electricity into the elevator to make the security system think he’s been granted access. As the doors close Patton swallows. No going back now.

The elevator ride feels both too long and too short. When finally the doors glide open to reveal a long hall Patton fastens his pace. He passes other closed cells, some of which he hears murmurs from behind their closed doors, but he does not slow down until he reaches the door at the very end of the hall. Door 409… Holding the highest level of security prison cell they have.

He glances backwards for a second, before he takes a deep breath and places his hands on the door. He feels the electricity answering as he redirects the flow. It’s hard. Harder than the vault in the lair, harder than tricking the elevator had been. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead, as he carefully has to divert his powers through layer upon layer of security, careful in case he triggers an alarm somewhere.

He isn’t quite sure how much time passes, but at long last the door finally, finally opens. Patton enters, and quickly slides the door closed again. His heart hammers in his throat as he presses his hands to the door and listens for the sound of the alarm going off.

It doesn’t come. He had done it. Exhaling a shaky breath Patton leans his forehead against the metal door, cooling his flushed skin.

“Well, well, well,” A smooth voice drawls behind him. “Look what the cat dragged in…”

Patton’s shoulders tense. He had hoped to never hear that voice again. A part of him is tempted to leave, but the files pressed against his chest still burn. So he gathers all his courage and slowly turns around.

The cell in the middle of the room is a monstrosity of glass and metal, bare apart from a simple bed. The security system surrounding it buzzes with the sheer amount of electricity it needs, making it dizzying even to Patton. It is only a small distraction however from the person all that electricity is holding prison, standing in the middle of that glass cell with his arms crossed at his back. Like he had been expecting him.

“My sincerest apologies for the mess. I wasn’t expecting such important company,” Janus grins. “Should I feel honoured that the famed Heart Shock is visiting little old me in my cell?”

Patton swallows. He had hoped that the villain would have been less frightening now, pulled away from his usual shadows and dragged into the light for once. He wasn’t. If anything the simple white prison grubs he wore instead of his usual black suits and the bright LED lightning only enhances how alien, how otherworldly he really is. The green scales trailing down his sharp face, the fangs glistening in that all too familiar mocking grin, the tall willowy frame that nonetheless packs a surprising amount of strength… The man in front of him is more monster than human. Patton wonders for a second if he ever was human to begin with.

“Oh, look at you,” Janus chuckles softly as the silence between them stretches on. “Like a frightened little mouse in the snake’s den… Whatever will he do now?”

Patton puffs out his chest indignantly. “I’m not afraid of you!” He says, ignoring how Janus raises an eyebrow with an amused smile. “I’m not! You have no power here! You’re our prisoner!”

“Really?” Janus mockingly drawls. “Well, pardon me for not believing you whilst you look like that.”

Patton belatedly realizes what kind of picture he paints. Pressed up against the door, as far away from the glass as he possibly can. Not exactly the fearless superhero everyone expected him to be.

Closing his eyes for a second, Patton takes a deep breath and steps forward. Cautiously he approaches the cell, his footsteps in sync with Janus’ until they both halt at the glass, right in front of each other. Patton stares up at his nemesis, more confident than he feels. Right into the mismatched eyes who have haunted his nightmares for almost a week now. He swallows, clenching his fist to hide that they’re shaking.

“While I’m definitely thrilled to have you here,” Janus smirks down at him. “I’m afraid I’m a very busy man, and don’t have time to have a staring contest with you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Patton opens his mouth to ask what the heck he would be busy with, he’s a prisoner, but stops himself. That’s a discussion that would lead him nowhere, and he came here with a purpose.

“I’m here to talk with you.” He says instead.

“Congratulations, you just did,” Janus yawns, a forked tongue lazily flicking out from between sharp fangs. “If that was all, darling-”

“No! I mean-” Patton zips open his jacket and pulls out the files. “I’m here to talk about these.”

Janus’ eyes narrow when he spots the files, the only outward reaction he shows. Yet the temperature between them seems to drop to freezing level.

“I’ve never seen those before in my life.” Janus says airily.

“I found them in your lair!” Patton counters. “In a hidden compartment in the wall!”

“Did you now? How interesting.” Janus lazily inspects his fingernails. Patton frowns as he spots Janus’ left arm is completely wrapped up in white bandages. He can’t recall that they gave him an arm injury. He opens his mouth to ask, but shakes his head. He had to focus on this.

“These are your plans!”

“No they’re not.”

“Oh yeah?” Patton flips open the files. “Then how do you explain your name on top of these papers?”

“Can I help it that ‘Janus’ is such a popular name?”

“These are all written in your handwriting!”

“Preposterous. My handwriting is much neater.”

“All your old plans are in this, and some future ones!” Patton shouts exasperatedly.

“Pure coincidence.”

“Stop,” Patton grits out through clenched teeth. “Stop denying! I know these are yours!”

“If you’re so sure, why ask me at all?” Janus disinterestedly brushes away some invisible dust from his shoulder. “Why haven’t you immediately shown them to your superiors, like the good obedient lackey that you are?”

“Who says that I haven’t?” Patton responds heatedly.

With a growl Janus suddenly throws a fist against the glass, his eyes flashing dangerously. Patton jumps backwards, his throat squeezing shut before a startled scream can escape him.

“Don’t. Lie. To me.” Janus spits. “If you had shown them, you wouldn’t be here chatting with me in the middle of the night. Admit it.”

“I… No.” Patton finally shakes his head, gripping the files tightly between his hands. “No, I didn’t…”

“There we go…” Janus draws his hand back and crosses his arms again behind his back, his easy smile back. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Heart Shock. Have your masters never told you it’s bad to lie?”

Patton bites his lip. It was true that he’d be in so much trouble if his superiors ever found out that he lied. But surely they would understand him lying to their enemy, wouldn’t they?

“You’re one to talk!” Patton says instead. “You lie all the time!”

“Says who?” Janus drawls with a mocking smile.

“Says me! You lied every time we fought, you just lied multiple times to my face-!”

“No I didn’t.”

“-And you lie in these files!!” Patton shrieks, waving the files in front of the villain’s nose. Janus’ smile falls and his face darkens.

“Oh? Pray tell, Patton.” Janus sneers, and Patton snaps back in shock at hearing his actual name coming from the villain’s mouth.

“H-How did you-?”

“Why exactly would you think I lied in these files?” Janus tilts his head. “If I wrote them, that is.”

“Because... Because-!” Patton flips angrily through the files. “Because these files say you used the money you stole from the hotel fundraiser two years ago to finance black market medication research!”

The hero looks up triumphantly, expecting Janus to laugh and simper about how gullible he is for believing such an obvious decoy. Janus however doesn’t laugh. He shows not even a hint of his mockery as he silently listens. Patton’s triumph falters, and he flips once more through the files to avoid that calm gaze.

“A-And here!” Patton pulls another paper from the file. “In here you claim that you kidnapped the scientist Emile Picani because the AEP made him design weapons, not new mental health robots!”

Still no response. Patton scowls as he holds up another paper. “This says you destroyed a construction site for a new factory because the output would pollute the town’s only water resource!”

“They were also exploiting the builders,” Janus finally interrupts. “Forced them to work under horridly unsafe conditions for barely a quarter of the salary they needed to support their families.”

“Yes!!” Patton throws the files down with frustrated force, making the papers fly everywhere. “You… You… You keep lying in these files, making us appear like the bad guys! Is this what you tell the people? To brainwash them into joining your stupid little gang?”

“Me? Brainwashing? HA!” Janus shakes his head. “That’s a laugh and a half…”

“I’m onto you, Deceit!” Patton proudly puffs out his chest. “I see right through your tricks!”

“Oh, of course you do,” Janus smiles down at him like he’s a child who just badly solved a puzzle game. “Nothing gets past you. Truly, I’m so impressed.”

Patton’s certainty wanes. Villains who just got their plans exposed should look angry, not like they’re secretly laughing at you.

“Well, if you’re done spouting wild accusations, would you mind closing the door behind you?” Janus stretches his arms above him. “I want to get my eight hours of sleep in before I get thrown into the next torture session tomorrow, thank you very much.”

“Torture-? Oh, haha, very funny!”

“Not joking, unfortunately-”

“Why do you do this??” Patton has to resist to stomp his feet in frustration. “Why do you keep on lying?”

Janus lowers his arms, his smile falling away. “I don’t.” He says. The seriousness of his voice throws Patton off, but even so he scoffs.

“Yes, you do!”

“I really don’t. There’s not a single word in those files that isn’t the honest truth.”

“Yeah, right,” Patton crosses his arms. “Tell that to the people outside! Or to my superiors!”

“Oh, by all means, bring them in,” Janus says seriously. “Bring them all in! Your precious masters, all my supposed victims… I think you’ll find that they’ll all agree with my side of the story.”

Patton opens and closes his mouth a few times, uncertainly. The rigid seriousness of the other makes him more nervous than he hopes he lets on. He was so used to the dangerously charming smooth talking Janus that he had no idea what to do with this calm, somber Janus. Oh, why hadn’t he taken Logan with him? He would have known what to say!

“Oh really?” Patton eventually says, sounding more sure of himself than he actually was. “What exactly is ‘your side of the story’? Go ahead, I could use a laugh!”

“You want to know, little mouse?” Janus says, and just like that the dangerous smile was back. “You really want to know?”

Patton swallows, but tilts his chin up defiantly. “Yes.”

“Well, you asked for it…” Janus hums thoughtfully, gathering his thoughts for a second. “My side of the story is about how years ago a small company gained interest. Funded by the richest of the rich of the world this company created unwilling abominations. Children reared only to use as weapons to hold the world hostage. So that those richest of the rich could create a planet where the lowest of the low were forced to work for them. Leeching of the world’s natural resources like parasites, while the rest of us peasants suffer as a result. Of course, that was the system even before these children became their shiny new atom bombs, but now… Now they had safeguard. A safety net that ensured no one would ever dare to rebel against them. Well…” Janus smiles. “Almost no one…” Janus inspects his fingernails casually again. “Of course, to make sure they wouldn’t be bothered by such things as icky morals, they justify their actions by saying it was for the greater good! By saying this system created…” Janus raises an eyebrow at Patton. “An Endless Peace?”

A silence falls between them. Then Patton lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Really? You think I’m going to believe that? I’m not dumb, you know!”

“Dumb, maybe not,” Janus shrugs. “Naïve, however…”

“I don’t believe you!” Patton says proudly.

“You were born and raised at AEP, weren’t you?” Janus asks. “Told from a young age you were born to be a superhero? To help people? Tell me Patton, have you ever been away from this building for anything else than superhero business? Or talked to anyone who isn’t approved by EAP first? Anyone at all?”

Patton tries to think of an answer, but comes up empty. “The people in this building protect me,” He answers instead. “Protect me from people like you, who would exploit my powers for evil!”

“Trust me honey, you’re not the one who needs protection out there…” Janus mutters.

“I don’t believe you.” Patton repeats, a bit more uncertain this time.

“Fine. Don’t then.” Janus shrugs. “I don’t need you to believe me for it to still be true.”

The absolute confidence in Janus’ voice infuriates Patton, anger bubbling up in his chest.

“EAP is a good company! We actually help people, unlike you!” Patton yells, now actually stomping his foot. “You stand there trying to tell me you’re so noble, when you have NO PROOF for anything you claim!!”

“Proof?” Janus growly lowly. “You want proof? Fine!” Angrily he grabs the edge of his bandages and starts unwrapping his arm. “I’ll give you proof!

Patton inhales a sharp breath as Janus unwraps the last bandages. His arm is completely raw and swollen, oozing with barely healed wounds. His stomach turns at the sight of angry deep black burns strewn over any flesh that got spared.

“They tore the scales off my arm,” His cool façade finally shows cracks as Janus’ voice shakes. “One by one they ripped them off my skin. Even when I finally talked they didn’t stop. They continued on until my arm was bare, and the iron they placed in the fire was white hot. That’s how I got these…” Hovering his fingers over one of the burns he swallows. “Obviously I told them old hiding places, long since abandoned. It will keep them busy for a while, but when they realize I’ve given them old information…” He rubs his jaw absentmindedly. “They said they would take my teeth next. Too bad... I’ve grown quite fond of my fangs.”

“They…” Patton shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from Janus’ tortured arm. “They wouldn’t do this…”

Janus’ eyes turn cold, his collected mask back on. “Obviously, they did. Or do you think I would do this to myself to gain sympathy points with delusional so called ‘good guys’?”

“B-But-!! We are the good guys!! The people, they love us-!”

“Oh, please,” Janus rolls his eyes. “The only reason the ‘common’ folk sing your praises is because they’re too afraid that their ‘beloved rulers’ send you to destroy their homes next.”

“T-That-! That’s NOT true-!!”

“Do you know what they call your little ‘hero’ group outside of the little circle of rich assholes you protect?” Janus says with a nasty smile. “They call you ‘The Executioners’. Because the minute someone refuses to obey, to fall in line… They send you. To make sure the people know who’s in charge. To destroy any ounce of happiness they scraped up and make an example out of the corpses you and your friends leave behind in their wake!”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!” Patton shakes his head, covering his ears in a vain attempt to block out that damned smooth voice.

“Face it, kid. You’re no hero. No… You want to know what you are?” Janus continues on mercilessly. “You’re a tool. A sharpened axe the elite of the world hold over the necks of the common people, so they continue working as proper frightened little drones. Nothing like a good threat to keep their servants from revolting against them.”

“YOU’RE LYING!!” Patton screams as he throws his fists against the glass, the lights above them flickering in sync with his outcry. His powers bursts out of him with a force he hasn’t experienced since he was a kid. Electricity climbs over the glass cell in living lightning, framing the villain like a cursed portrait. But Janus barely blinks as the electricity crackles around him.

“If you are so sure that I’m lying… Why are you still here?” He asks thoughtfully. “Why come here at all if you truly think I lied in these files? Unless…” Janus says slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “Unless you’ve already seen the cracks in their pretty façade. Is that it?”

Just as quick as his power had acted up it retreats. “I… I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Patton stammers as he pulls his hands away from the glass, the bright glow of the electricity dying in his fingers. He steps back but Janus follows, like a shark that smells blood in the water.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” Janus breaths out a disbelieving laugh as he shakes his head. “When did you start to notice the holes in their logic? Started to taste the bitterness in their pretty lies? How long have the doubts been eating at you, Patton?”

“That’s not…” Patton starts weakly, but any other rebuttals wither and die before they can leave his mouth.

“You’ve seen glances of their true faces,” Janus continues. “And you hoped that I would what? Comfort you? Deny everything and let you wallow in your own self-denial? Be the so-called ‘villain’ you think I am so you can continue feeling good about yourself?” Janus chuckles, lowly, the sound wrapping around Patton’s throat like a noose. “Come now darling… Did you really think I was that kind of person?”

It distinctly feels like something inside him breaks. The pretty wall of his superhero persona crumbles and crashes down, leaving Patton with only the ugly truth that wall had kept hidden from him. The pride and praise of the past week now suddenly tastes like bitter ash in his mouth.

He hurt people. He hurt the world. He did he did he did he did he DID-!!

He can’t take any more. Patton’s legs give away beneath him as he crumbles in front of the glass, his chest heaving with sobs. Pulling his hands through his hair he buries his face in his knees, tears dripping down his cheeks. Janus says nothing while Patton’s sobs echo in the room. He only stares down at the shattered hero at his feet with a distant kind of satisfaction.

"What do I do...?" Patton eventually whispers when the tears finally slow. "What can I do to make this right…?"

Janus grins, kneeling down to look the hero straight in the eye.

"You could start," He purrs. "By getting me out of here."

--

Patton walks through the halls he’s walked through a thousand times. His heart hammers a mile a minute in his ears, almost deafening him. Yet it can’t keep him distracted from the person currently running after him, sticking out amongst the grey walls like a sore thumb in his bright white prison grubs. They halt at an intersection, pushing their backs against the wall and holding their breath as soldiers run past in the next hallway.

“I’m going to need your phone.” Janus suddenly whispers, making Patton bite back a yelp.

“I-I don’t have one-!” He stammers. Janus gives him a long-suffering look.

“I’m not surprised, yet somehow still disappointed.” Janus sighs as he impatiently moves past him. Just as Patton wants to ask what he’s planning, Janus darts out of the dark corridor, as quick and ruthless as the snake he is and grabs the last soldier in the platoon that passes them. He gives her no time to alert the others in front of her as Janus covers the soldier’s mouth, drags her back into their corridor and sinks his teeth into her neck.

“What are you doing?!” Patton hisses.

“Making sure we can get out of here!” Janus hisses back as he pulls his teeth from the soldier’s neck. The woman’s eyes are already drooping, despite her effort to raise her voice in alarm. By the time Janus lowers to the ground she has fully lost consciousness.

“You can’t do that!! She’s just doing her job!” Patton furiously whispers as Janus searches her pockets.

“Yeah, well, currently her job would be to shoot me on sight, so excuse me if I would rather not die!” Janus finally victoriously pulls a phone from the soldier’s pocket. Grabbing the soldier’s hand for a second to make her unlock the screen, he then furiously starts texting.

“What are you doing??” Patton repeats, just as frantic.

“Arranging our getaway ride, if all goes well,” Janus says as he finishes the text and hits send. “Now we just need to get out of here and keep hidden until they can come for us!”

“Right… Right!” Patton nods. Oh, why did he do this again?? “I know how we can get out of here! We’ll have to follow-!”

“Patton?”

Patton freezes at that familiar voice. Turning he comes face to face with Virgil, wrapped in his favourite hoodie and sleepily rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. How could he have forgotten his teammate’s insomnia? Or his habit to wander around until he got sleepy??

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Virgil yawns. “Do you want a lecture from Logan about proper sleep schedules? Because trust me, they’re not very-”

Virgil freezes as Janus rises to his feet behind Patton. His eyes dart between him and Janus, gasping as he finally spots the unconscious soldier on the ground.

“You…” Virgil’s voice turns dark, the shadows behind him moving on his unspoken command. “I don’t know how the FUCK you got out, but you will step away from my teammate RIGHT NOW and get back to your cell, or you’ll regret it!”

“No thank you,” Janus smirks. “While I thoroughly enjoyed your hospitality, the room service here is positivelyabominable. Not to mention the horrid excuse you call cuisine. I don’t think I’ll return here soon.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Virgil growls, gathering his famous shadows in his hands.

“Virgil, NO!!” Patton screams and steps between the two before Virgil can throw his attack.

“Patton, get out of the way!”

Patton shakes his head. “No! You have to let us pass, Virge!”

“What do you mean-?” Virgil stops, furious disbelief etching across his face. “…It was you… You helped him escape-!”

“I…” Patton swallows and nods. “Yes, yes I did… But Virgil-! It’s not what you think! We’ve been lied to, Virge!”

“Yes, by HIM!!” Virgil points at Janus, who wiggles his fingers in a mocking wave. “You know, the enemy that we’ve tried to capture for literal years??”

“No, not him! The AEP! They’re the ones who lied to us! They’ve been using us, Virge! They used us to… To attack innocent people! We’ve hurt the world instead of saving it! We have to set this right!!”

“What the hell are you talking about-??”

“Virgil, please,” Grabbing Virgil’s hands in his Patton gives his teammate- No, his best friend- a pleading look. “Come with us! Help me take down the organization! They’re the bad guys, Virge! It was never him!” Patton gestures to Janus.

“Oh that’s fine, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus mutters.

“We can fix this, Virgil. You and I!” Patton says, fragile hope growing in his voice. “Please, trust me on this! Let’s run away together from this place and actually help!”

Virgil stares at him, the tense silence stretching on in the hallway like a wire slowly growing taut. Virgil’s eyes flicker between him and Janus indecisively. Patton hopes for a brief second that maybe, just maybe-

His stomach drops when Virgil’s gaze remains on Janus, and just like that the wire snaps.

“You…” Virgil snarls. “I don’t know what lies you fed him-”

“Virgil, please no-!!” Patton pleads, but Virgil shoves him aside.

“But I will not let you get away with it!” The shadows behind him move again, answering their master’s call as they gather around him. “I will take you down for this!!”

“Must we?” Janus sighs exaggeratedly before he straightens himself and grins his lengthening fangs bare. “I suppose I have time in my busy schedule to teach you some manners, Stormcloud.”

Virgil growls and aims his hands towards Janus, the shadows behind him brewing and moving in dark colours without hesitation. Patton doesn't think. Later on he wishes he had. He doesn’t remember moving, yet he sees his hand grab onto the back of Virgil's neck. He doesn't want to see the sparks fly out of his hand, making the Virgil’s body go rigid before promptly becoming weak in his grasp. But it doesn’t matter what Patton wants, as Virgil's body hits the floor with a thud quieter than it should've been.

Paralyzed Patton makes eye contact with Janus over Virgil’s unmoving form. The other man stares at him dumbfounded, uncertainty and shock fighting for the same place on his eyes. Patton looks down, trembling.

Oh god what had he done.

For the second time that evening Patton felt his knees give way beneath him as he fell next to his friend.

“Virge…” Patton whispers, pained regret shaking in his voice.

“Patton-!” Janus walks up to him, putting his hands on his shoulders but Patton barely feels it.

“I’m s-so sorry-!!” Patton sobs over his friend’s unconscious body.

“Patton.” Janus says, his voice so calm that Patton’s muddled mind readily clings to it. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

“I-I c-can’t j-just leave him h-here-!!”

“You must. The commotion must have alerted someone. This place might be crawling with guards soon. We have to go.”

Patton looks up in Janus’ eyes, their mismatched colours strangely grounding him and he nods. Janus helps him to his feet, and after one last look towards Virgil, Patton turns and they run.

Much later Patton would look back on this night and barely remember their escape. He leads Janus through the facility on automatic pilot, only managing to avoid capture because of Janus’ vigilance and sharp hearing. In the end Janus has to take out only one additional guard, who had been watching the emergency exit that Patton had lead them too. This soldier went down much easier than the first one. Patton supposed he hadn’t expected anyone to come to the quiet, halfway forgotten exit. But how could Patton forget it? He and Virgil had used this door as kids to escape from training once in a while.

Virgil…

Janus hastily runs through the emergency exit with Patton closely following behind. The cold night air finally shakes Patton's mind awake, away from the phantom feeling of Virgil's neck and how his hand tingles slightly. He almost wishes the tingle hurt.

They run loudly on the pavement, aiming for speed over secrecy. Patton’s breath comes in heavy pants and his lungs prickle, yet he dares not to stop or to look back. When they reach the high fence it takes Patton’s every bit of concentration to stop the electricity singing in the fence, guiding it away from Janus as they climb over it.

The sirens start as they safely land on the other side of the fence.

With the alarms blaring behind them Patton follows Janus to where the concrete leads into worn-in dirt, and where that leads to sticks, leaves, and not many traces of society. Patton's breath hurt in his chest, but knows he can't stop for a moment. He doesn't bother looking behind him either.

After what feels like hours but were more likely minutes, Janus skids to a halt, his breath forming clouds in the cold air as he leans heavily against a tree. Patton leans his hands on his knees, catching his breath. In the distance the alarms continue blaring.

“D-Do…” Patton gulps, exhales. “Do you think we’re safe…?”

Janus looks at him. “I don’t know…” He says, and Patton hates the raw honesty he hears in his voice. He suddenly much prefers the smooth lies his former enemy could spin at a drop of a hat. If they’re caught, he'll suffer Janus' previous fate or worse. Patton doesn't want to think about how it could get worse.

Just as he’s about to sit down, resigned to his new fate, a bright spotlight illuminates their spot in the forest. Patton can’t stop the startled scream as spots dance in his vision at the sudden brightness, the rumbling of an aircraft above them finally overpowering the sound of his wildly beating heart. They had found them already??? Or…

“Ahoy down there!” A nasally voice shouts down over the intercom as a rope is lowered from the aircraft. “Did some clown order a clown car??”

Patton puzzlingly frowns, but besides him Janus grins.

“Hold on, Heart Shock!” Janus grabs the rope with one hand and throws his other arm around Patton’s waist to hoist him up close. “Our ride is here!”

Before Patton can form some kind of protest the rope is hoisted up. A high-pitched shriek tears from his throat as the ground falls away beneath them. Patton never liked flying or heights in general. No matter how many times Roman took him for a flight he never got used to it. So he throws his arms and legs around Janus koala style and buries his face into the other man’s scaled neck. He dares not to peek as they dangle above the ground until he feels hands grab him and Janus. Excited voices ring in his ears as the hands drag them both into the aircraft. As they land on the metal floor with a heavy thud a blush creeps in on Patton’s cheeks when he untangles his arms and legs from Janus’ frame.

“Snake Daddy is in the nest!!” The same nasally voice shrieks over the roaring engines. “HIT THE GAS!! GO GO GO!!!”

The door behind them slams closed, and the aircraft flies off with a speed that throws Patton backwards, making an inelegant roll on the hard metal floor. Janus on the other hand sits up his knees, giving the man that runs up to them an exasperated look.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?” Janus sighs. The man gives him a grin that makes his moustache curl up mischievously. Either Patton’s eyes are deceiving him, or the man resembles Roman to an uncanny degree.

“And I told you to get used to your new codename, Double-D!” The man joyfully says. “Deal with it!”

Janus rolls his eyes, but nonetheless grabs the hand stretched out to him. As he’s pulled to his feet Janus throws his arms around the other.

“Remus, you absolute insane wonderful man you,” Janus breathes shakily. “How the fuck did you get here so fast?”

“Are you kidding me??” Remus eagerly returns the embrace. “We’ve been hiding around here for five days now!”

“You what-” Janus reels back, grasping Remus by the shoulders “Why??”

“To rescue you, of course!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake- You promised that if I ever got captured you would continue where I left off! Not risk everything by trying to rescue me!”

“Yeah, well,” Remus shrugs. “You promised me that I would get to watch you use the president’s head as a football some day! And god fucking dammit, you are not getting out of that promise, no matter how hard you try!”

Patton flinches at the gruesome fantasy, but Janus only wetly laughs and draws Remus back into a hug. Over the whole aircraft relieved and excited voices ring, welcoming Janus back.

Amidst the excitement Remus halts as he finally spots Patton, who still sits quietly amongst the excited rebels.

“No fucking way…” Remus breathes. “You actually got us a hostage?”

Patton freezes. As all eyes turn to him, he suddenly remembers again that he’s surrounded by people he previously thought as his enemies. And to them, he still was the enemy.

"Double-D, you should've warned me you would bring a hostage! I would've brought the rougher rope with us!" Remus pulls away from the hug and quickly moves towards a container, which once opened Patton could see was full to the brim with rope of various colours, each appearing thick and rough enough as they were.

Janus dramatically sighed. "He’s not a hostage."

Remus stops rummaging through the container and quirks an eyebrow. "But Heart Attack or whatever is one of those stupid guys! Wait.” Remus squints suspiciously at Janus. “Don't tell me you're breaking up with me and joining his side."

“Not quite,” Janus says as he extends a hand to help Patton to his feet. As he stands Janus lightly places his arm over Patton's shoulders. A shield against the suspicious glares from the rebels around him. "You see, my darlings… He's joining ours."

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #moceit #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #superhero AU #eat the rich if this fic doesn't make that clear enough

[tailsbeth-writes]

A Visit to Berlin (Druck Advent Calendar - Day 14)

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Berlin, Squads were assembling, for the fun to begin.

'Cash queens; Christmas edition!' Ava called in English as the girls posed for yet another festive selfie. Fatou had insisted on wearing elf ears for 'accuracy', while the others had gone for Santa hats and reindeer antlers. As the photoshoot finished, the girls went back to their spots; Nora plaiting Mailin’s hair, Ava lay back as she scrolled through her phone and Fatou continued to apply glitter to her cheeks. Christmas music played out of a laptop. ‘It’s not going to be weird, right?’ Mailin asked quietly. Nora squeezed her shoulders. ‘Not at all. Kiki’s friends are cool, it’ll be chill,’  Mailin nodded with a little smile, reassured. Ava sighed, the familiar sound the girls often heard when she was looking at Instagram posts from her friends back in Alaska. Fatou ran over and hugged Ava from behind. Nora and Mailin soon joined, squishing Ava with kisses on her glittery cheeks.  ‘Ava, stop looking at your phone and be in the moment with us. Berlin is where it’s at!’ Mailin harked.  ‘Berlin! Berlin!’ Nora and Fatou joined in. Ava grinned up at her friends goofing around her. Last Christmas came on and she turned it up. The girls gathered in a circle, bellowing along to every word of Wham. 

She was dressed all in red, from her shoulders to her knee, And her clothes were all polished with as many sequins as could be;

Mia tussled her hair as she looked in the mirror once more. She never wore anything quite so over the top but Hans insisted. She left her room to find fairy lights strung up on every possible wall. Hans’s dulcet tones could be heard from the kitchen where he was making cocktails, Linn sipping away on his latest concoction.  ‘Oh my god, Mia! I told you it would look amazing,’ Hans stopped in his tracks when he saw his favourite blonde. She thanked him bashfully and sat next to Linn, giving her a friendly nudge with her shoulder. Hans placed down an intriguing glass, filled with some pink and orange drink. Mia quickly mixed the grenadine in, much to the disappointment of Hans who wanted to take a picture of his creation. Before he could dwell, the buzzer went off. Mia jumped up and let the visitor in.  ‘We should have brought something, Amira. It feels-’ Mohammed’s bickering quickly stopped when Amira ran the last of the steps and was pulled into a hug from Mia. He smiled at the pair, reuniting in quick squeals of ‘habibi’ and lots of hugs. Amira wore a cream dress, with a gold belt in the middle and a red hijab with a gold glint through it, Mia commented that she knew Amira would suit that scarf.  ‘Well thanks for persuading me to get it, it’s like my Christmas hijab!’  Mohammed finally made it to the top and greeted Mia briefly as they all got inside, away from the cold hall. 

A bundle of bottles he had flung on his back, And she looked at him dearly, holding an ice pack.

Hanna and Jonas held hands, swinging their arms like children as they walked through the streets. The houses had a glow, many windows filled with trees and signs for Santa. Hanna felt ridiculous in her ugly christmas jumper, its glittery snowman glinting in the street lights. Jonas had gone for a full on costume however, a reindeer onesie. He walked along proudly.  ‘I should have worn something else,’ Hanna moaned. Jonas looked at her with wide eyes.  ‘Hanna, are you for real right now?’ He dropped her hand and gestured to himself up and down. She chuckled, Jonas placed a hand on her cheek. He leaned in close and planted a lasting kiss on her lips. She was pulled in, almost dropping the bag of ice Hans had asked for.  ‘Woah, cold cold cold,’ Jonas stepped back, the ice had been sandwiched between them. Hanna laughed, trying to apologise between giggles.  ‘Let’s go before this melts,’ she got out, taking up Jonas’s hand again. 

The stump of a joint he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

‘I’ve missed this so much,’ Abdi announced to the bathroom, Matteo next to him in a cloud of smoke. Carlos joined them in the bath and Matteo passed the joint to him.  ‘Me too, I’ve missed you idiots weirdly,’ Carlos replied with a smirk on his face before inhaling from the joint. Abdi pretended to be crushed. He elbowed Matteo and pointed to his jumper which was flashing away like a christmas tree.  ‘As usual you don’t dress up for the occasion.’ Matteo sighed and rolled his eyes, and unzipped his hoodie. Underneath was a black t-shirt with the phase ‘bah humbug’ written across it. Carlos chuckled, it might have been the t-shirt or it might have been the joint but he didn’t care.  ‘Boys, of course you’re in here!’ Jonas opened the door, the boys burst out laughing as he twirled around in his reindeer onesie proudly. The boys got up and gathered in a rowdy group hug.  ‘I forgot how idiotic you lot were together,’ David appeared in the doorway, shaking his head. Abdi opened up a gap in the circle and quickly pulled in David who resisted at first but admitted defeat when Matteo put his arm around him from the other side, smashing a quick kiss onto his cheek. 

A wink of his eye and a twist of some lime, Soon they knew that this would be a good time.

‘Cheers!’ The girls called as they clinked glasses filled with Hans’s cocktails. Sam downed half of her fruity beverage, her blue lipstick matching its colour.  ‘I’ve missed this, I’m so glad you’re back in Berlin for christmas,’ she gushed, Kiki nuzzled her head into Sam’s shoulder. Kiki gazed over at the other end of the table where Nora and her friends were laughing, she smiled softly.  ‘Everything okay?’ Amira said quietly to Kiki, she nodded.  ‘It’s just nice to see Nora doing well,’ she replied.  ‘Is therapy going well?’  ‘Yeah. It took a while for her to adjust but she’s getting there,’  Amira put an arm around Kiki and gave her a little squeeze. Hanna and Mia were up and twirling around the kitchen, Matteo and David were sitting as one on the sofa, David playing with Matteo’s hair as Matteo smiled peacefully. Hans planted a kiss on Linn’s cheek, dancing around her and trying to get her moving. Nora and Josh were chuckling at some private joke in the doorway which conveniently had mistletoe above it.  Hans turned down the music for a moment, tapping his glass fiercely.

But they heard him exclaim, as he called in delight— “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Merry Christmas & a happy new year to you all, and massive thanks to the lovelies of @druckadventcalendar for organising this! <3

#druck advent calendar #druck #druck fanfic #christmas #druck fanfiction #nora machwitz #fatou jallow #mailin richter #ava pereira #mia winter #hans brecht #linn shira #amira mahmood #mohammed razzouk #mazzouk #hanna jung #jonas augustin #carlos schmidt #abdi ates #david schreibner #matteo florenzi #davenzi #sam m'pele #kiki machwitz #josh zimmermann #spiderwitz #tailsbeth writes

[estrelafics]

Warm Embrace

Fandom: Ducktales (2017) / The three Caballeros

Ship: Josepan (José x Panchito)

Words: 3,154

Summary: José and Panchito are invited to spend the holidays over in Duckburg. However, Panchito worries about José’s homesickness.

Notes:

The part by the fireplace was my favourite part to write from all the xmas fics I wrote. I wanted to give a sense of a peaceful Christmas night, surrounded by people we love. I hope I succeeded ♥

This one was so long, and it was a pain to edit too lol With the lack of time and the xmas rush, I didn’t have the time to polish it as much as I wanted, but I hope it’s still enjoyable to read.

Merry Christmas everyone ♥

Decorating the entire McDuck manor was a big challenge, but it was a challenge Panchito adored.

It was Christmas Eve and Panchito thought that the McDuck manor absolutely needed some more Christmas spirit.

Decorating had always been one of his favourite holiday activities, therefore he didn’t mind doing this while waiting for the dinner.

With his everlasting energy, along with excitement to spend his first Christmas in Duckburg with his two best friends, he decided to decorate every single room of the manor.

Making his way down to the first floor, placing glittering garlands on the staircase railing, he noticed at the corner of his eye his good old friend José.

The parrot gazed outside the large window with a nostalgic expression in his eyes. Panchito immediately thought that José looked sorrowful…which worried him. He knew José very well, and knew that he was one to always be eager for the holidays.

Curiosity tainted Panchito’s worry and he walked over to the parrot, albeit, carefully so that he wouldn’t startle the other.

“Do you want to decorate with me?” Panchito asked, showing him a string of lights that José could help put on the window. “I know, you like to decorate as well.”

José smiled, he took his part of the string and helped.

“You are on your own? I thought os pathinhos were helping you.” José asked.

“Well they did at first���We decorated the foyer and the living room together,” The rooster replied with a chuckle. “But then Louie realised that the more rooms we decorate, the more work it would be for us to take it down after…and now I am on my own.”

José laughed.

“They have a good point, you know.”

Panchito carelessly shrugged.

“This isn’t going to stop me. I will only stop when every room in this manor has been decorated…” He then glanced at the box of decoration that he had been carrying. “Or at least, until there are no more decorations left...” He added sheepishly since the box was almost empty.

He admittedly was surprised that Scrooge had so many decoration, since the old miser apparently really disliked this holiday.

“It will be gorgeous once everything is decorated.”

When he finished setting the last part of the lights, Panchito stepped back, plugged the lights and admired their work.

“Well, you are right. It really is beautiful.” José agreed.

Panchito beamed, a feeling of proud washing over him. Then there was a quiet moment between them; one that made Panchito notice once more that José was gazing outside the window instead of at the decorations.

“So are you excited for the holidays, Zé?” Panchito suddenly asked.

This question prompted a look of surprise from José.

“I am. Why the question?”

Panchito didn’t respond, he slightly raised a brow and gave him a knowing look...It was enough for José to confess.

The parrot sighed, he didn’t know why he thought he could lie to Panchito.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am very excited and happy to be here with everyone…it’s just that it’s the first time in years that I spend Christmas away from Brazil,” He chuckled as if he was saying something silly.

José sat on one of the stairs. “I suppose I am starting to be a little homesick...”

Already…? Panchito though. They only arrived 2 days ago!

Panchito was shocked of course, but did not judge his friend for feeling that way. He knew that José got homesick pretty quickly.

José had always been attached to his home and Brazil, and therefore it was normal for him to feel melancholic whenever he was away. Usually when they were exploring or adventuring, it was easy for the parrot to be busy or distracted. But here, days have been rather quiet so far and uneventful, Panchito realised it must been hard.

“I can sympathise,” Panchito said kindly, sitting next to his friend. He placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “It is also the first time I spend Christmas away from Mexico in a long time too. It is different here. But I am really excited about it.”

José smiled at him. Something about Panchito’s eagerness and warm smile always reassured him.

“I always wanted to spend the holidays with you and Donald,” Panchito continued. “And the fact that so many others are here too is wonderful. It makes for a lively holiday and somehow reminds me of home. It is always nice to meet new people and to make new memories with them.”

José nodded, but didn’t say a word. His eyes were glazed, mostly on the fake poinsettias decorations left in the box.

To get his friend’s attention back, Panchito gently held his hand. The parrot looked at him with curiosity as Panchito offered a smile.

“I promise it will be fun for you too! You won’t regret it José!” Without realising he softly brushed José’s fingers. “And next year, maybe we can even celebrate Christmas in Brazil together!”

“Thank you, but you really don’t need to do anything like this,” José shock his hands rapidly. “I am sure it would be very fun and I appreciate the gesture. But I assure you, my friend. I am happy, no matter where I am.”

Although, José loved the idea of spending Christmas in Brazil, it would be bothersome to everyone, especially to poor Donald who had to bring three kids along. It would add one more weight on Donald’s shoulders, and that was the last thing he wanted.

José stood up to leave before the conversation could digress further. But Panchito was still not convinced and followed him.

“It would have been a bother in the past. But now they have a pilot and can go anywhere!”

“You don’t know that. Many things can change in a year…”

“But—“

“Panchie, please don’t think too much about it!” José interrupted. “My homesickness will go away eventually. There is nothing to worry about.” He shrugged.

And before Panchito could even reply, José quickly reached for the remaining decorations left in the box.

“Now, come on! Let’s at least finish putting on these before the dinner starts! It’s getting late, you know.”

Panchito finally dropped the subject, only now realising the time.

“You can take care of the garlands and the wreath, while I will put on the last lights.” José suggested.

Panchito followed the instructions, but his conversation with José was still stirring on his mind…

He simply hoped the parrot wouldn’t leave without at least letting Donald or him know.

***

The Christmas Eve evening passed pretty quickly.

Panchito was sitting close to the warm fireplace, and so were many of the other McDuck manor residents. He stopped drumming soft Christmas melodies on his guitar, when he noticed that many were sound asleep in the living room.

After the dinner, came the caroling. And after singing together, Panchito had the idea to read some Christmas stories to the children.

It has been a family tradition from his childhood that he still holds dearly in his heart. When he was younger, he remember his tío reading Christmas stories to him, his siblings and many primos.

Tonight, he decided that it was a nice opportunity continue the tradition by reading to the four ducklings. He was even happier when he realised that the book Webby found in the library contained his favourite story from Mexico about Las Posadas.

Afterwards, Launchpad proposed that everyone should try to stay up until midnight to unwrap the gifts. And even if all agreed, almost everyone fell asleep way before then, tired from their day.

Panchito stretched his arms in the air, starting to feel drowsy as well.

Beakley had turned off the lights a few minutes earlier, only leaving the soft light of the fireplace to illuminate the big room. And along with Donald, she covered the kids (and Launchpad) with warm cozy blankets.

When the clock struck midnight, only three people were still awake in the living room.

Panchito glanced over at Scrooge, as the old duck was leaving the room.

“Merry Christmas,” He wished quietly.

“Bah humbug,” Scrooge replied, before leaving the room, though a serene smile was on his face.

Panchito smiled and looked over at Donald who was calmly asleep next to him. When the duck tucked Huey and Webby earlier, the two ducklings decided to use him as a pillow.

Donald’s irritation over that decision disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Not willing to fight, Donald let it be, snuggling them closer and slowly joined them in peaceful slumber.

“Feliz Navidad, Donald.” Panchito whispered, as he made sure to cover his friend with a blanket.

Then Panchito looked over at the last person awake in the room.

José was still reading the Christmas book from earlier by the dim light of the fireplace.

The rooster scooted closer to him to whisper.

“Feliz Natal, José.”

José stopped reading once he heard his voice and offered a warm smile. He had been so absorbed in his reading that he lost track of the time.

“Feliz Navidad to you too.” Panchito admired the gratitude in José’s eyes before the parrot started rubbing them.

“Are you getting tired?” Panchito chuckled.  

“Sim, very tired.” José replied, covering himself with the cozy blanket Donald had gave him earlier. “But I don’t want to leave the living room...the ambiance is really...soothing.”

Panchito agreed. The fireplace was really warm and cozy, and as much as he always preferred colourful environments full of life, he was grateful for this peaceful moment. He felt so comfortable being here as well.

“Well you don’t need to leave. You can stay here, many people stayed here as well and I think will stay too.” He softly put his hand on top of José’s. “I hope you are feeling better and are having a good Christmas.”

José’s eyes remained a few minutes on their hands, but he didn’t comment on it nor moved his away.

“Yes, I am…” He then snuggled closer to Panchito and rested his head on his shoulder. “Muito obrigado, Panchie…”

Panchito was a little shocked, but didn’t say anything, there was nothing to say after all.

Instead, he nuzzled José and rested his head on top of the other’s.

***

Panchito slowly fluttered his eyes open.

The sunlight of the early morning was shining right into his eyes and he regretted not closing the curtains in his guest room last night.

After finally managing to open his eyes, he realised that he wasn’t in the guest room actually, but in the McDuck living room, in front of the now died out fireplace.

Looking around the room, he saw Donald and the kids still asleep. Even Launchpad was still slumbering on the couch…but something was missing…he realised that José wasn’t anywhere in the room!

As soon as the information hit his still tired brain, Panchito completely awoke almost in a panic.

“José?!” He asked.

He immediately turned to Donald, he didn’t want to accidentally wake up the kids or start a state of panic among everyone.

“Donald! Donald! José isn’t here! Do you know where he went? Did he tell you something?” He tried to remain calm, but he couldn't hide the wavering worry in his voice.

“He…forgot…to…”The duck mumbled, before turning around to sleep on his other side. Panchito frowned.

“What?! Donald, he forgot what?!” He was completely confused.

“Your friend left.”

Panchito froze when he heard these words. Words he begged were not true. He slowly turned to face the voice and saw Beakley not so far from the fireplace. She was carrying in wood to light up the fireplace again.

“What?” Panchito asked again, wanting to know more.

“I saw him leave a couple of minutes ago with his coat on.”

This alerted Panchito even more, sadness rapidly appeared in his eyes. It was then that she understood this was not an information he expected or wanted to hear.

“I’m sorry,” She genuinely added.

The rooster quickly got up. In a frantic, he put on his coat and left his scarf loosely around his neck. Before leaving he reached for his bag and immediately rushed outside not wanting to lose another second, while thoughts were rushing through his mind.

José couldn’t leave before saying goodbye to Donald and him, right? That wouldn’t be something he could do! But what if José got really homesick this morning? So homesick that he planned to leave and go back home suddenly?

Panchito didn’t even know if there was a plane in Duckburg leaving for Brazil this morning, but he didn’t want to risk it. He started to dial up a taxi.

Too caught up in his thoughts, once he stepped outside, he didn’t notice the condition of the ground and slipped on the ice, almost landing face on the snow.

“Panchito?!”

Panchito looked up and couldn’t believe his eyes for a second when he saw José…and the parrot had caught him right before he fell on the ice.

“José?!”

The parrot was looking at him with big eyes. Obviously surprised to see the rooster in such a panic state, he was barely wearing a coat and his loose scarf around his neck was almost on the ground.

“Panchie, did something happen?” José asked worried.

There was a sort moment of silence between them, enough for Panchito to think about the reality, what was happening and what he should say.

“¿Dónde estabas, José? ¡Te estaba buscando, y estaba muy preocupado!” He ran a hand over his head, trying to clearly express what was coming through his mind. “I-I thought you go really homesick and that you decided to leave in the end…”

José looked at him, still confusion in his eyes.

“Why would you think I would leave? I couldn’t…not after someone very caring and wonderful wanted me to stay.” He said with a soft smile.

Panchito smiled for a second, as he heard these comforting words his body was finally relaxing. José knew…he was staying...and Panchito was glad…

“Well, more than one person cared about you staying, actually.” He replied modestly, albeit he really appreciated the compliment and couldn’t help but to blush. “But why did you get up early? I thought you hated mornings, Zé.”

The parrot chuckled. “I do. I do. But there are stuff more important than sleeping in the morning.” He shifted on his feet. “I know we said not gifts between us…but you know me.”

“You always give us something Zé…” Panchito shock his head, trying to comprehend what José was getting at.

They always promise not to get stuff for each other, but never succeed in keeping this promise. Donald would always bake something for them, José would always draw an art piece for them and Panchito would make melodies dedicated to them. “I don’t understand why it would be different this year.”

“Yes. I do have the art piece for you and Donald…but I also wanted to get you something else. Just a little thank you for caring so much about me…” He showed him a gift that he had been hiding behind his back until now. “I left it in one of my bags in Scrooge’s airplane and didn’t had much time to wrap it correctly. But I hope you like it.”

“José…” Panchito was touched. Nevertheless, he took the box and looked at it speechless.

José imagined that ever-so-energetic Panchito would rapidly open the present as soon as he would receive it. However, that wasn’t the case. Panchito did not open the gift right away.

Instead, he gestured José to wait, before rummaging in his own bag and getting another box. “Here, I also got you something special…”

José didn’t said anything, but his eyes were showing gratefulness.

And as José imagined, Panchito then looked at his own gift so cheerfully. José didn’t wrap the box, but it still had a cute bow on it. A bow Panchito was certain José spent a delicate amount of time on making it perfectly to compensate for the lack of wrapping paper. He untied the bow and opened the box to find a lovely bouquet of poinsettias. A smile crossed his face as he picked them put to admire them, but then noticed that something else was in the box.

It was a notebook. He picked the notebook and opened it to see that there was so much of José in it.

On the first page was written “Sempre pensando em você” and had beautiful music notes design and scales through the pages, illustrated by José himself. He definitely could recognise his art style anywhere. Every page seemed to have a musical doodle or a special note on it.

Panchito beamed, loving his gift so much.

“It’s for when you need to write your lovely music. It is small enough that you can carry everywhere, but big enough so that you can easily doodle and write. I can assure you.” José said with a smile.

“ZÉ! GRACIAS!” Panchito expressed. He was about to hug him, but then stopped.

“You need to open yours, now, mi amigo.” He mentioned playfully.  

José nodded. He delicately unwrapped his gift, wondering what Panchito could have got for him. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he found a little heart-shaped pendant with a small star symbol on it.

“Panchito…This is beautiful,” He said almost speechless. “You didn’t have to…”

“Did you see how pretty it is?! I definitely had too!” He expressed with so much energy and cheerfulness. “When I saw it, I immediately thought of you! And look! It’s a locked pendant!” He grabbed hold of the object and opened it. “You can put a picture in it! Now you can carry your home in your heart wherever you go!”

José eyes glimmered at the thoughtful meaning of the gift. As much as he loved Brazil, he knew he would put the picture of someone instead.

“I know it’s not the same, but maybe you will feel less homesick?” Panchito added sheepishly. “I was so afraid that you would leave without—“

Panchito wanted to tell him more, but was grasping for words the instant José suddenly embraced him tenderly.

Panchito returned the embrace with as much love and care.

“I am so happy that you didn’t leave,” The rooster ended up saying softly, feeling his heart racing.

“I am happy that I didn’t either.” José chuckled.

And when Panchito thought things couldn’t get better, José gave him a soft kiss.

“It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?” José said, holding Panchito’s cold hands and bringing them closer to his beak for soft kisses. “We should go back inside before you catch a cold, caro.”

Panchito didn’t feel the cold, but he also didn’t object.

“It’s a good idea.” He said as he placed a small kiss on José’s beak.

#ducktales 2017 #The Three Caballeros #josepan #panchito x josé #Christmas drabble #Estrela's fics #one-shot

[keelime-xiv]

♥ LF RP Contacts: Keelah Se’lai ♥

(Screen edit by: @keeperofthelilacs​ ♥)

Keelah Se’lai  - Balmung

♥ The Basics ––– –

Nickname(s): Kee, Mistress, Queen Bitch.

Age: Thirty-two

Birthday: 5th of August

Race: Keeper of the Moon, Miqo’te

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Marital Status: Married, but partakes in an open/polyamorous marriage

(Continued under the cut ♥) 

♥ Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Keelah’s hair is a dark purple, almost black, colour and hangs down past her shoulders in wild and sometimes unmanageable curls. She will usually wear it loose or coil it up into a tight bun for when she needs to work. [Visual Reference]

Eyes: Keelah’s left eye is a soft pastel pink and her right eye is a pale, sickly blue.

Height: 149 cm / 4′8

Build: Keelah is all hips and chest with an hourglass frame and lovely long legs. She works hard every day to keep fighting fit to keep her clients in check.

Distinguishing Marks: Keelah has a vertical scar through her right eye which caused its discolouration. This scar she wears with pride as it has become a favourite story of hers to tell. On her back, however, are scars she’s not so pleased to talk about. Such as the brand she has on the back of her neck that she keeps hidden at all times. Keelah has a small collection of tattoos. She has Azeyma’s ward on her right hip, a pair of lace garter tattoos around her lower thighs, a pair of horns above her pelvic region, and a crescent moon surrounded by pink blossoms on her back. Keelah’s tongue has a piercing along with both nipples and a piercing which I will leave unmentioned in public~♥

Common Accessories: Keelah often wears a collar around her neck to hide her brand mark, but the style of the collar changes often to match her current outfit. She also occasionally sports a pair of dark shades, sometimes for fashion, but mostly to hide her hangover.

♥ Personal ––– –

Profession: Keelah currently works as a freelance informant/saboteur. If you have the money (and care not for what methods she uses) then she’ll have the information you need. Keelah also has a side gig as a high end dominatrix. Popular among the wealthy, her calendar is constantly booked solid.

Likes: Keelah loves alcohol, smoking, sex, burning things, cutting things, fighting things, gardening, reading, and down time with Martin.

Dislikes: Keelah loathes prudes, stuffed shirts, unbearably obnoxious people, boredom, paperwork, and heights.

Languages: Common.

Residence: Keelah lives in an old, one room, stone cottage surrounded by a lush and overgrown garden of wildflowers. The location of this fairy tale esque home is unknown to the general public, but there have been a few who have stumbled upon her home by mistake. (Lavender Beds, Private House) Keelah is also in possession of a ‘ritzy’, penthouse apartment in the city of Ul’dah. It is here she takes most of her clientele and potential business partners. (FC Room)

Birthplace: South Shroud, she thinks. However, she was raised in Eastern Thanalan.

Religion: Keelah is open to the idea of Religion and often prays to Azeyma for guidance.

Patron Deity: Azeyma.

Fears: Keelah fears heights, being left alone/abandoned, and Mandragoras.

♥ Relationships ––– -

Spouse: Ramza Wyvernjack.

Children: None.

Parents: One adoptive mother, Shelley La’tra

Siblings: One adoptive brother, Ramza Wyvernjack (Yes, the same Jack she’s married too)

Best friend and confidant: Martin Freepaw.

Pets: Too many to name~♥

NPC Relations: Nanako Nanko. A stern and elderly Lalafell, she is Keelah’s loyal secretary who keeps the wild dominatrix in check. 

♥ Traits ––– -

(Bold your character’s answer.)

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted Disorganized / In Between / Organized Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded Calm / In Between / Anxious Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable Cautious / In Between / Reckless Patient / In Between /  Impatient Outspoken / In Between / Reserved Leader / In Between / Follower Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic Traditional / In Between / Modern Hard-working / In Between / Lazy Cultured / In Between / Uncultured Loyal / In Between / Disloyal Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful 

♥ Additional information (OOC) ––– –

Keelah may seem intimidating, but I assure you she is an awkward fucker just like me. She’s easy to get along with and I would love to do more with her. Please don’t hesitate to message me if you’d like to try her out, I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised how well she can fit into any scenario ♥

[Additional Character Profile and Related Links]

♥ What I’m looking For ––– –

Friends Lovers Romantic and non-romantic fluff Adventure

♥ What I’m NOT looking For ––– –

Possessive/rude/pushy/impatient partners

♥ RP Hooks ––– –

Keelah’s Client - You find Keelah’s business details on the back of a black business card. You’re not sure what you need from this illusive woman, but you feel as though you’ll know for certain once you meet and talk with her. At first she’s scary and intimidating, your inner voice screams to run from her presence and never look back, but after a long discussion you begin to see Keelah for who she really is. A woman with flaws and needs just like any other. This started out as a strictly professional acquaintance, but perhaps it might bloom into something more? A friendship, a romance, a murder mystery? Let’s play it by ear~!

Keelah’s Mark - You’ve fallen into trouble with the wrong people and unfortunately for you they’ve sent in the best to make sure you disappear. She has been a mere shadow tracking you for days, you’ve been able to keep her at arms length so far, but even you grow tired of holding back. At last you give in and face her head on, but what happens next might not be as you planned. Will they fight? Will you win or will you lose? Will Keelah concede and help you take down the bastards that sent her after you? Or will she simply kill you for the money?

Keelah’s Cottage - You’ve heard rumors about it, ghost stories, nothing consistent. A strange cottage hidden deep within the black shroud and surrounded by the most enchanting garden any one had ever seen. Anyone who had been brave enough to try and find it never returned, their lost screams haunting the night to ward off any would be heroes who would try to save them. Bah! It’s an old wives tale to stop children from wandering out into the forest unsupervised! Or so you tell yourself as you seek out this fabled cottage. What will you find out there in the wilds? Will Kee be receptive of your visit or will she silence you like she has all the others who wandered into her little garden? 

Let’s make our own - These are simply suggestions, I would love to brainstorm with you and come up with something unique~!

♥ Contact Information  ––– –

You can message me here on Tumblr, poke me in game on Balmung or hit me up on Discord at Keelime#7933 ♥ I prefer role playing in game or on Discord, but please approach me OOCly first.

#lfrp #lfrp contacts #ffxiv #ffxiv rp #Miqo'te #character profile #Keelah Se'lai IC

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Onni Durst – The Dragon Lady

▲ Onni Durst with Sun Myung Moon and Hak Ja Han in Manhattan.

Susan Swatland, from her book, Escape from the Moonies Chapter 8: The Dragon Lady

“If you go away, you dangerous, because you know too much.” Onni Soo Lim (Durst), spiritual commander of the Moonies in California

Onni came sweeping into Hearst Street, [in Berkeley] head held high, unsmiling, eyes glinting fire.

‘Quick, pali-pali. Come sit,’ she barked.

Pali-pali is Korean for ‘hurry’ and we hastily obeyed. When Onni was in this mood, tremors ran through the ranks. Our spiritual lives, which to us were everything, depended upon pleasing her.

She stood in front of us and those dark, fierce eyes slowly surveyed us all. ‘Why you not sell more for Father?’ she demanded. ‘Why you shame me?’

Feet shuffled uncomfortably, but no word was spoken. We had been spending eighteen hours a day for the past few weeks, selling pictures, roses and candy on the streets, and returning each night with just enough strength to slide into our sleeping bags. During that time we had been bringing in around 150 dollars per person per day, but nothing seemingly could satisfy this handsome, forbidding Oriental lady. One of the newer sisters Judith was rash enough to point out that at this season of the year the city was quieter than it had been during the summer months. This only served to stoke the fires of Onni’s fury.

‘Bah,’ she cried, ‘you too selfish. That true reason. Stop your flirt with Satan.’ She was interspersing her words with the karate chops that Moon uses in his speeches. She leant forward. ‘You all work harder for Father. You make promise to me this moment.’

And with shame in our hearts we chorused, ‘We promise to work harder for Heavenly Father.’

It would have been impossible to under-rate Onni’s position of power within the Unification Church. She was the female edition of Moon, fierce, fanatical and with their Korean kinship, his favourite disciple. She was the spiritual commander of all the Moonie forces in California and bodyguard to Moon’s wife, Hak-Ja Han, when she appeared in public. On matters of West Coast policy no one crossed swords with Onni ... not even her husband Dr Mose Durst.

She was said to be so spiritually open that she could walk into a room and see the spirits all around her. She just needed to take one look at you and she’d know your spiritual state instantly, know whether you were closer to God or Satan. This terrified me so much that I didn’t dare look into her eyes. We would scrub and sweep rooms for hours before Onni’s arrival and open the windows wide, so that we could chase out the bad spirits. If we missed the slightest speck of dust or the minutest cobweb, she would be sure to spot it and rain down curses upon our heads.

This was one scary lady and made to seem even more sinister by the presence of her constant companion Teresa, an elder sister with mesmeric eyes. When Teresa became angry, which was often, even the strongest and bravest of the brothers stepped quietly around her.

Two prominent Californian Moonies, Jeff Scales and Evey Eden, had once been taken by their parents (under a court order ) to the Freedom of Thought Foundation rehab centre in Tucson which was being run by the Alexanders, Joe and his wife Esther. Immediately Onni, Teresa and a band of their disciples set off in pursuit.

Upon arrival at the centre, Onni stood beside the front door intercom and barked repeatedly, ‘Evey, Yacov (Jeff’s Moonie name), my children, come out, come out.’ Evey and Jeff were so terrified that they raced upstairs and hid under the bed. Evey’s father, a lawyer from Detroit, asked Onni to leave and when she refused, the police were called.

She continued to scream and shout until a police car arrived, then magically her mood changed, ‘Why, sir,’ she asked sweetly, ‘wasn’t I invited?’

Onni, Teresa and their followers were taken away in handcuffs and the Alexanders went in search of Evey and Jeff. They found them literally stuck under the bed and all four legs had to be lifted clear of the ground before they could be freed. Such was the terror that Onni could inspire. Is it any wonder that ex-Moonies refer to her as ‘The Dragon Lady’?

At the subsequent court hearing some of the cultists were asked to confirm that they had no wish to return to the Unification Church. When one of them did so, Onni spat straight into his face.

On another day Mose Durst was halfway through a talk at Hearst Street when Onni jumped to her feet.

‘Stop,’ she cried. ‘Sister fall asleep. Sleepy spirits get to her.’

And this poor girl had to stand up in front of us all. ‘Come sit here,’ commanded Onni. ‘We chase evil spirit out. Smash Satan.’

The girl, looking absolutely terrified, was forced to sit at her feet. Durst continued with his talk as though nothing had happened at all. But every now and then his wife would aim karate chops at the air around the girl’s head as though chasing away demons.

Onni had first joined the Unification Church in Korea and then moved on to Japan as a missionary. In the early seventies, Moon sent her to California to replace a Korean academic named Mr Choi (pronounced Chay) who had failed to make any impact in the state. 

[Mr Choi is Papasan Choi was very successful, but had his doubts about Moon. His foundation was given to Onni Durst in 1974. ref. Michael Mickler. Papasan Choi later gave his reasons for leaving. See link below.]

The Bay Area Moonies have an elaborate mythology wrapped around Onni’s first two years in this new land. We were told that each day she would go to the Oakland Holy Ground and pray for God’s help in building the Church. As she could only speak Korean, she was a stranger in a strange land, existing on four hours sleep a night and a starvation diet. Eventually God rewarded this self-sacrifice by providing her first disciple Kristina; and upon this foundation, the Californian branch of the Moonies was built.

‘How poor Onni suffered for us,’ Teresa was fond of saying. I had heard those selfsame words from Jennifer; only in her case there was a difference. She was using them to describe the sufferings of our Messiah.

For such a dominant, hawklike lady, Onni could show surprising humility in the presence of Moon. When he came to stay at her Avalon house, she would reserve all the finest rooms for Moon and his considerable entourage. Her own room would always be the smallest of all.

Moon called her his ‘daughter-in-spirit’ and once in a jocular mood he said, ‘I am a slave driver for God; but I think compared to Onni, I am a most gentle man.’

Certainly as a slave driver on the city streets, Onni can have had few peers. Her teams of flower sellers brought in the most money; her teams of restorers brought in the most new recruits. They were all motivated by the same potent ingredient. Fear of Onni!

Her advice on the best way to snare the innocents ran like this: ‘Make friends, offer them whatever they are seeking, pray for Heavenly Father to guide them to dinner. Sisters get handsome men, brothers attract pretty girls. It’s good if they come because they like you. Once in God’s house, they learn to love God instead.’

Another bit of practical advice from Onni: ‘When you talk to people, talk only about their needs, their benefits, find out what will get them in. In witnessing, if people get negative toward you, just say that we support all churches.’

She was quite definite too about the targets . . . college types, intelligent, good-looking, respectable, idealistic, healthy, lonely and ideally on holiday. They also had to be white.

‘Black people don’t fit in so well,’ said Onni. ‘Hard for them. Not right time in God’s providence for them. Father says if whites don’t accomplish then use blacks to shame whites in America, but not yet.’

There were no ethics on the streets. Heavenly Deception was encouraged to run riot. One team from the Bay area, not mine, I’m glad to say, used to take out a van filled with wheelchairs. They would park the van in the early morning, climb into their wheelchairs and beg through the long day. Then late at night, they would put the wheelchairs back in the van and return to the centre with a fortune in donations.

Occasionally there would be rewards for the teams. They might be allowed to watch a rented movie such as Lost Horizon, The Sound of Music or The Ten Commandments. Or perhaps there would be a party with ice-cream at which Onni would perform the juggling acts she first learnt on the streets of Korea. Or if she really wished to show her gratitude to a sister she would take her to one of the multitude of massage parlours in San Francisco’s Chinatown. But mostly we would give our eighteen hours of labour in return for a meagre starchy diet, the use of a floor on which to sleep and the knowledge that we were helping to build the Kingdom.

Onni’s own rewards came on a grander scale. She would fly to New York just for a shopping spree. Her collection of jewellery was literally dazzling. And when her faithful disciples presented her with a beautiful blue Mercedes, her only comment was, ‘Why that colour?’

None of the sisters, not even Teresa, could claim to truly understand Onni. Partly because we were in such awe of her. Partly because she was so neurotic, so unstable, so changeable of mood. She was convinced that her phone was tapped and that her life was in constant danger, hence the huge Koreans who guarded her on the special days.

But it was the Moonies who left the cult who created the true traumas for Onni. She didn’t weep for them in the manner of Bethie the mother hen. No, Onni’s motives were more practical.

‘If you go away,’ she said, ‘you dangerous, because you know too much.’

One Family meeting with Onni Durst scarred my soul

The Creative Community Project leaflet

From a talk given by Dr. Mose Durst, President of the Creative Community Project.

Onni Durst’s trips to Las Vegas casinos, New York, and Seoul – and her luxurious lifestyle

Papasan Choi made a public declaration about leaving the Unification Church on January 15, 1987 in Saitama, Japan. LINK

Papasan Choi also held a meeting at a Ramada Inn in Washington DC, giving his reasons for leaving.

“Furthermore, the International Re-Education Foundation [founded by Papasan Choi] had owned some land in Boonville, California, sometimes known as Ideal City Ranch, which it turned over in a simple transfer of title in 1974 to the Unification Church.” 

Earl Raab, “Reverend Moon and the Jews – The San Francisco Experience”, Congress Monthly, December 1976.

#Onni Durst #Papasan Choi #Dr Durst #Creative Community Project #Moonies #Boonville #Unification Church

[kellydiels]

what's missing from mainstream success formulas detailed in books by Ryan Holiday and Peter Thiel

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this is from my most recent Sunday Love Letter. If you’d like to subscribe, you can do that here.

***

Right now I'm on a reading jag. I'm reading books waaaaaaaay outside my worldview. It's really useful; and it's not purely a literary counterintelligence exercise. Every thoughtful human might have insight I can learn from. Even an incomprehensibly rich libertarian tech founder/investor who campaigned for the devil might have things they can teach this inclusive feminist culture maker. In other words, I just finished Zero to One by Peter Thiel.

I also read Conspiracy by Ryan Holiday (about how Peter Thiel conspired, successfully, to bankrupt Gawker Media; it's a rollicking good read) and Trust Me, I'm Lying, also by Ryan Holiday. Add to this mix, Anti-Fragile and Skin in The Game by Nassim Nicholas Taleb, and basically I've been bodysnatched, send help.

Here's what's interesting about these books (which seriously, I did learn really useful things from): what's missing. What's not said.

In Thiel's book, for example, he writes a lot about the big thinking and big projects -- the space program that landed a rocket on the moon! -- that created huge technological leaps in our world. He sincerely values miracles (he thinks 'technology' is a synonym for miracle); he values nonconformists and people who've never fit in or been welcome in the mainstream world; he thinks something is systemically broken in the American culture and cultural imagination; he wants to create a culture where we invent things that make our world better. In this way, and in many others, I see so much common ground between my own culture making aspirations, my lefty feminist community members and colleagues, and Thiel. True story.

But when Thiel waves at and celebrates the last 30-40 years of intense, near-miraculous technological progress and productivity, he's leaving out something crucial -- and it’s what Anand Giridharadas writes back into the conversation in his book Winners Take All (it's really good, read it!):

"All around us in America is the clank-clank-clank of the new...But these novelties have failed to translate into broadly shared progress and the betterment of our overall civilization." (1)

'...three and a half decades worth of wondrous, head-spinning change [have had] zero impact on the average pay of 117 million Americans." (4)

"...the system -- in America and around the world -- has been organized to siphon the gains from innovation upward, such that the fortunes of the world's billionaires now grow at more than double the pace of everyone else's..." (4)

I can see why people who mostly read books about success and business and The Good Life that are authored by the "winners" of our cultural lottery/system could sincerely be seduced by them.

I was -- and I came equipped with a systemic, counter-cultural, feminist analysis!

[side rant: Holiday's reading list on his website is revealing and disheartening. He’s underestimating himself and starving himself of the innovative insights that come from people who literally live outside the box. Someone please get him to pledge to only read people of colour and women for a year, stat. It seems to me that he’s intellectually receptive and a conscience-driven person (the early editions of Trust Me, I’m Lying notwithstanding) and reading excellence far outside his life experience and worldview would take his insights to a brilliant new level --

Holiday also spends some time in Conspiracy scanning the books in Thiel's home to get an understanding of his influences; it's an admission that who we're reading is what we end up thinking --

It’s so bizarre to me that so many of the people who value innovation and who *know* it comes from the weirdos and nonconformists overlook or devalue (often simply by overlooking) the intense brilliance that’s found in counterculturals and people with marginalized identities -- wisdom and insights that come from being on the margins and seeing our culture and social patterns in a way that people in the centre otherwise can’t]

It's really easy to not think about things that aren't being thought about.

One of the tasks of culture-makers, I think, is to constantly assess what brilliance and wisdom is missing -- and needed -- and reinsert who and what's missing back into our cultural narratives.

Because often what's missing is us.

And all the insights and wisdom we have to offer.

Absent from the narrative about how wondrous business is and the amazing things start-up culture has created in our world is a discussion of how sexual abuse and harassment and systematic exclusion are a feature, not a bug, of that same culture -- and how those biases get built right into the algorithms and platforms of the tech (miracles!) we're supposed to worship. (The book Technically Wrong is brilliant on this front.) Thiel, for example, talks about the traits of successful founder's but doesn't connect the dots to how a founder's bias (this is A Thing: Founder's Bias) gets built into the very products that are now structuring our brave new world.

That's because Thiel’s unit of analysis is business and founders. 

He may be concerned with The Common Good, and probably I'm a fawn prancing in a meadow with butterflies because I believe he sincerely is concerned with it, but because his unit of analysis is founders/business, he's looking at the conditions they require to create their version of that good...so that it facilitates more of their particular type of Common Good manufacturing.

It's a tragic, deeply political, narrowing of scope. You can't see what you're not looking for.

Ryan Holiday does this, too, in Trust Me, I'm Lying.

I have such a complicated imaginary relationship with Ryan Holiday. Again, this could be me frolicking in meadows with talking rabbits and charming insects, but I sincerely believe that he's grown and matured and is anguished by the state of our media and our culture -- part of which his book played a role in devolving (his most recent version of TMIL makes his regret pretty explicit). A few years ago, however, I hated this book and, by extension, him. I saw a twenty-something white man who lacked an understanding of social inequity and consequences publishing and profiting from a manual on how to manufacture outrage and manipulate the media. I saw that as a tutorial on how to manipulate people and our society. Which it is.

[Side rant: Using manipulative, disempowering tactics to influence the audience in order to sell shit is everything I oppose in my own work on The Female Lifestyle Empowerment Brand. So I have super strong feelings about this book. And Launch by Jeff Walker. Even though I have no doubt Walker's a lovely person, I think the encouragement to use mental triggers against consumers is profoundly damaging to people and our larger cultural context; I also think it conditions the sellers and entrepreneurs to dehumanize other people in the name of profit. Which cannot be good for us.}

The book carried a warning, sure but it felt like Machiavelli’s disengenous warning about The Prince (Holiday references the same warning in Conspiracy so perhaps I’m correct to connect the dots). Back to my point. Holiday seemed to be warning us that media is corrupt and the system by which journalism functions needs to be fixed...but what that does, helpfully for his profile and the book’s sales, is justify deliberate media manipulation, not correct it.

His logic appeared to me to go like this: no, you don't have to feel bad about manipulating a broken system. It's corrupt. So go ahead and exploit those weakness for profit and pleasure.

The villain in Holiday's book was the corrupt media. By making it a villain, no one has to feel bad about whatever bad things they do to the villain.

Making the media system the focus of the book conveniently erases who gets hurt by wanton media manipulation: us.

Holiday's book basically helps its readers not feel bad about profiting from fuckery and deliberately fucking with their end user.

You know, people. Our society. Our democracy that NEEDS the fourth estate.

By leaving media consumers -- us, the general public, our society and our democracy -- out of the book and out of the equation, and focusing on ‘the media’ as a villain, his blueprint and tactics seem savvy and achievable. Though outrageous, the apparent do-able-ness of his advice (in the earlier editions of his book) is a function of what's left out of the book: the real victims. The damage it inflicts on people and our society.

Women in corporate spaces, for example, are acutely aware of how many women are not at the boardroom table (or on the reading list. Ahem). When my biracial daughters walk into a room, they count how many people of colour are present. How many white people or men do that? Does Ryan Holiday? Or Peter Thiel?

(I didn't scan for textual or physical absences until recently. I'm a person of a mostly dominant identity. I've rarely had to.)

When we don't account for what and who are missing, it's easy to get seduced by rah-rah-cis(!)-boom-bah narratives and formulas for success and want to replicate them.

It's really easy to get dazzled by the superhuman feats of invention -- PayPal! Tesla! Space-X! Facebook! -- and notice and celebrate the way they're tangibly reconfiguring the world and creating huge amounts of value (capital) and totally fail to miss the fact that this is not shifting the material conditions of most humans.

All the money and capital being created in the USA by start-ups-cum-institutions did not increase the salaries of most Americans. It did not improve our democracies or the quality or safety of our public spaces. (Temple and church and school shootings. Police shootings of unarmed black people. Pipe bombs being mailed to political figures in the weeks before an election.) Knowing how to manipulate the media for fun and profit did not improve the quality or strength of our fourth estate. Instead, it contributed to a context in which the president of the United States can declare war on the media -- a pillar of democracy -- and the 'truth' becomes whatever ranks highest on Google's first page.

All of this to say: definitely read outside your experience and world view AND read every context, every room, every group, every book (and book list) for who and what is missing. It changes everything.

It makes our tactics and formulas and reflections for creating cultural change better.

And I think that's what we need to truly make a better world, for all of us.

***

this is from my most recent Sunday Love Letter. If you’d like to subscribe, you can do that here.

***

#WeAreTheCultureMakers #feministmarketing #peterthiel #ryanholiday #technicallywrong #trustmei'mlying #conspiracy #gawker #winnerstakeall #a seat at the table #culture making #feminist books #books #Ryan holiday #Peter thiel #feminist marketing #technically wrong #AnandGiridharadas worldchanging #anand giridharadas

[hspencer-researchreport]

Disney’s The Little Mermaid (1989)

Ursula is an octopus mermaid while all the heroic merfolk are traditional fish-tailed. She is also the largest character in terms of width and lower . She is also darker coloured compared to the others, instead of having a natural skin tone she is blueish purple.

Ursula has a deep voice with a rasp, making her sound fairly masculine.

Ursula is very vain and concerned with her looks, often affiliated with looking into a mirror

Ursula is introduced in shadow with only the whites of her eyes visible.

Ursula is indulgent and over dramatic. She wants revenge on Triton for some unexplained reason, other than that she used to live in the castle and was banished. She is quite petty.

Ursula: Bah! In my day, we had fantastical feasts when I lived in the palace. And now, look at me - wasted away to practically nothing - banished, and exiled, and practically starving.

Ariel also faces antagonism from her father, King Triton. King Triton wants his daughter to stay safe from the surface, but uses orders and demands to keep her in place. It is clear he is doing this out of concern for her safety, and does show remorse.

King Triton: Do you... think I was too hard on her?

Ursula is a manipulator, she uses the protagonist Ariel as a way to get her revenge

Ursula: Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I can't stand it! It's too easy! The child is in love with a human … Her daddy'll love that.

King Triton destroys Ariel's collection as punishment for being disobedient. When Triton arrives at the collection grotto, he is in shadow apart from the whites of his eyes, parallel to Ursula's introduction

This sequence is cut and edited in a dramatic fashion. Triton is enveloped in shadow and the lighting lights the lower portions of his face in red.

This is a turning point in the plot and happens halfway through the duration of the film. Triton's desire to control his daughter pushes her further away from him and into Ursula's hands, putting both of them in danger.

-

Ursula takes a familiar tone with Ariel, gossipy tone. Trying to make her feel welcome. Makes herself seem charitable.

Ursula: Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple. The only way to get what you want is to become a human yourself.

Ariel: Can you do that?

Ursula: My dear, sweet child. That's what I do. It's what I live for, to help unfortunate merfolk, like yourself, poor souls with no one else to turn to.

POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS – Ursula's villain song

The villain song shows all of Ursula's best and worst qualities. She portrays herself as being a force of good while still making asides to her pet eels of her true intentions

“Nowadays, I've amended all my ways” / “I use it on behalf on the miserable, lonely and depressed... pathetic.” / “On the whole I've been a saint”

The song's title and chorus repeat “poor unfortunate souls”, double meaning, that she helps those who are poor and unfortunate, as well as them being poor and unfortunate because she is often the cause of their downfall.

This song also moves the narrative forwards moreso than the others, with Ariel choosing to give into temptation and signs away her voice in exchange for legs. Most of the other songs kept the characters in one place in a narrative sense, discussing motivations or setting, whereas the villain song carries the same power that the villain does and moves the story forwards.

Ariel: But without my voice, how can I...?

Ursula: You'll have your looks. Your pretty face and don't underestimate the importance of "body language." Ha!

During the Poor Unfortunate Souls sequence, she is bathed in green light.

--

Ursula takes Ariel hostage and bargains with Triton to let her go in exchange for himself. Triton complies. His love for his daughter is greater than his duty as king. Trying to make up for pushing his daughter away.

Ursula, much like Jafar, momentarily wins and triumphs against the heroes. She becomes all powerful and grows to a massive size. She is impaled by a boat she brought back up to the surface and electrocuted with Triton’s scepter. Her goal for power and revenge gets the better of her.

In the end, Triton realises that he can’t keep Ariel his forever and lets her become human.

--

Sean Dudley (2016) The Making of The Little Mermaid - Disney Channel (1989). [Online] YouTube. Available at: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuHR5ZOWp-U> [Accessed 28 August 2017]

Originally aired 17 November 1989, as Journey to Under the Sea: The Making of Disney's the Little Mermaid, Disney Channel

13:02 “All my life I’ve played funny characters, I’ve played nice characters, I’ve played touching characters… what I wanted to play was villains.” Pat Carroll, voice of Ursula

13:31 “She’s [Ariel] everything that Ursula hates” Pat Carroll

13:42 “She’s fun to animate because you can do so much with her body, because she’s underwater and she’s this big fat blobby character” - Kathy Zielinski, character animator

14:08 “Often we would use the tentacles to accent moves or grab Areal to pull her closer or to dance with her, so we’d use her tentacles in choreographing a lot of her movements” Kathy Zielinski

14:33 “an especially fun villain, not only because she looks like an octopus… but because she’s very sophisticated” Howard Ashman, lyricist

14:54 “I watched sunset boulevard with the character norma desmond and I studied the way she would move and the way she’d react to william holden and that really helped a lot, it would inspire me when I tried to put some life into the character” Kathy Zielinski

15:15 “in my head she was an old shakespearean actor who had retired to the sea for some reason! But I thought of her with that kind of flair and flamboyance and theatricality, but underneath that, that kind of slit-eyed “oh really?”” Pat Carroll

15:45 “I think villains who have a little of a con-artist in them are more fascinating because they give you a facade” Pat Carroll

#researchreportproject