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andtheniwrotemarvel · 5 years

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Trust

dad!Phil Coulson x Reader Assumed female reader Word Count: 1440 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-O2Lbmwuyyc

I love realizing that I'm not the only one that absolutely loves Baby Coulson so huge thanks to all y'all out there that love her with me. This one goes out to Wattpad user berryninjago who introduced me to the song Agent Coulson by the Doubleclicks and like?? Guys. We all need that song.

Also! I'm going to be at FanX in Salt Lake City on Friday, April 19th. If anyone else will be there that day, please say hi! You can DM me for details if you want. I'd love to meet y'all!

"You're doing that thing again, Coulson," Fury said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"That thing?" you asked. "Do clarify."

"The exact same thing you did after New York."

"And that is?"

"Don't play dumb when it comes to ignoring your mental health," Maria chastized you. "You're not subtle about it."

"Well, I'm sorry that I have resting depression face," you scoffed.

"You didn't have resting depression face before you were depressed," Fury said pointedly.

You stared him down, and he stared right back, his eyebrows raised.

"I may very well regret telling you this, but you, (Y/N) Coulson, are one of the few people that I trust," Fury admitted. "It'd certainly be nice if you'd do the same."

"You know, funny thing—I did trust you, and then you died, too," you snapped.

"Too?" Maria pressed.

"Everyone I care about always ends up leaving. They die, or almost die and come back different and distant and cold. I'm just sick of this, and I can't deal with it anymore," you vented. "I'm done losing people."

"Aren't we all?" she chuckled sadly. "It wasn't like this before, losing friends left and right."

"Either to death or betrayal," you added bitterly. "I don't feel like I can trust anyone anymore, not after all of this 'Real SHIELD' crap Bobbi and Mack are pulling."

"Really can't even trust us?" Fury asked, a solemn and humble air to his voice.

You looked back and forth between him and Maria before taking a breath and giving your answer. "I want to, but I can never tell what else you're hiding from me."

"You used to be okay with that," he said.

"That was when SHIELD's secrets were still affordable," you shot back. "I don't know exactly how separated you two are from SHIELD, but secrets are tearing us apart right now."

"I realize it was idealistic of me to think that SHIELD could recover from this," he sighed.

"I thought it could, too," you admitted. "But this is coming from a twenty-two-year-old girl that's spent her whole life with SHIELD. I don't think I can imagine my world going on without it, and that's my problem."

"Does your father know that you feel like this?" Maria inquired.

You stared down at your boots, hating yourself for the answer you were about to give.

"No."

Neither Fury nor Maria had a reply. Phil and (Y/N) Coulson were the father-daughter duo that they knew for their honesty and near inability to keep anything from the other. For you to keep your depression and borderline identity crisis from him, you couldn't have been in anywhere close to your right mind.

"I feel like I can't tell anyone anything anymore," you said, choking on your words. "Everyone else is going through so much right now, and I shouldn't burden them with my feelings, too."

"Don't lie to yourself. Your feelings are just as important as theirs," Maria stated with conviction. "If they confide in you, then you can confide in them."

"But they don't confide in me! They haven't done that since my boyfriend died. They keep saying that I can talk to them, but I just can't do that. I have this stupid, ridiculous sense of pride that I have to keep up for no reason, and I can't even drop it around my own father anymore!"

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes after you finally admitted what you'd been keeping inside for so long. In an attempt to keep them from spilling over, you laughed.

"Who knew that Nick Fury and Maria Hill would just end up trying to help a kid with her mental health?" you chuckled, a bitter edge to your voice. "I know for a fact that you both have better things to do."

"Not when that kid is one of Earth's strongest defenders. I have nothing better to do," Fury countered. "You're an Avenger, (Y/N) Coulson. You're the only SHIELD agent that can still say that."

"When we get to Sokovia, your voice might the only real voice of hope they've heard during this whole ordeal," Maria added.

"Who, the citizens?"

"The Avengers."

You noticed the Maximoff girl sitting by herself on the trip down to safety. No tears trailed down her cheeks, but you could see the pain she was feeling in both her face and her posture. She sat with her legs drawn up to her chest, her face resting on her knees. The body of her brother rested a few feet away from her, but no one could bring themselves to look at him.

You recognized her posture as your own. She was lost, and she saw no one that could guide her.

"I wish I knew how to help her, too," a sudden voice came from next to you, disturbing your thoughts.

"Everything I can think to say sounds like everything I hated people telling me when I lost my father," you said, not bothering to turn to face the man belonging to the voice, instead favoring your boots. "I'm not exactly the poster-child for grieving, though."

"How would you define a poster-child for grieving?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Probably as someone that doesn't get stuck between anger and depression for years."

You finally turned to look up at Steve Rogers to find his piercing blue gaze meeting yours unwaveringly. Despite the dirt and sweat on his face, his expression was soft and open, ready to listen. His arms rested on his knees, and he really just looked like a concerned mom.

Despite yourself, you smiled and looked back down at your boots. "You don't look like you've had the best day, Cap," you jived.

"Really? Imagine that," he wondered sarcastically. "You'd think I'd look just fine after punching murderbots all day."

"Oh, you still look plenty fine," you teased him with a sly smirk. "Tired and done? Kinda dirty and gross? Undoubtedly. But you're still pretty easy on the eyes."

"I could say the same thing about you. Funny, though—you were only punching murderbots for five minutes and you look about the same as I do."

You raised your eyebrows. "So that's how it is, huh?"

"Oh, that's how it is."

"And I thought you were supposed to be made of chivalry or something like that."

"What do you call catching you when the city started falling?"

"Common sense?" you answered, a little bewildered. "I would have done the same for you, no chivalry necessary."

"Even though my weight would have pulled you down with me?"

"Wouldn't have even run through my mind," you admitted, shrugging. "Next thing I'd have known, I'd have been falling right above you without the slightest clue as to why."

"I'm glad that's not the way it happened, then," he laughed. "Can you even imagine what your father would say about that if that's how we died?"

You let out a real laugh for the first time since you'd lost Trip. "I honestly have no idea. I'll have to ask him," you chuckled. You caught your slip immediately and recovered before Steve noticed. "Add that to the list of things to ask my dad when I die."

"Not if I don't get to ask him first," he challenged you, relaxing in his seat.

"You're not seriously initiating a race to see who dies first, are you?"

"With all of the crazy stuff we get into, it might as well be, right?"

As he smiled at you, you finally felt like the world was stable for a second. You could ignore your problems and enjoy the moment with him. It was just you and Steve.

And Clint Barton.

"Hey, Cap, instead of flirting with the hired help, how about you help me over here?" Clint called to Steve.

"Hired help?" you scoffed. "Flirting?"

"Yeah, don't mind him," Steve said. "He's weird."

"You act like I haven't known him practically my whole life," you responded. "Weird is an understatement."

"And how about nosy?"

"Not usually," you remarked. "Maybe he's jealous that you might be getting action and he's not?"

He guffawed as he stood up. "You know he's married, right?"

"I'm sorry, he's what now?" you inquired, mildly offended. "Barton, how come I've never met the missus?"

"None of your business," he answered tartly.

"I'll give him that," you acknowledged to yourself. That's still kinda lame, though, you thought.

There was another secret someone was keeping from you. You scowled to yourself and told yourself not to think about it that way, but it was hard not to. It seemed that all your life was now was finding out retroactively about secrets that had been kept from you.

There were always more secrets.

More lies.

More betrayals.

Trust no one.

It's not like anyone trusts you anyway.

Tag List: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler @shuriwithparker

#dad phil coulson #Phil Coulson #Phil Coulson x Reader #nick fury #maria hill #steve rogers #clint barton #wanda maximoff #(Y/N) coulson #avengers #avengers oneshot #marvel #marvel oneshot #agents of shield #agents of shield oneshot

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verratensduo · 6 years

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25 days of Christmas Drabbles/day 17 prompt volunteering

This special challenge is by @cherrytrinkets and can be found here.

Tagging my friends @leonhart-ani, @titansealgair (the one I told you I was gonna do), and @starrysparklesandshit, I know you don’t rp Marco anymore but we have talked about these erenxmarco things a lot, though not quite this way.

Tagging @happyslitterbox because Wynter asked :) Also tagging @fieryikkibott, hope you enjoy Felix I can’t forget my friend Ash @totally-not-a-makoto-blog

Fair warning to my followers, this is also a vent type of story I am writing out here, so there will be some shade thrown in a few areas, I will not apologize for this vent styled story.

Drabble Challenge: Yes 25 days of Christmas Day: 17/25 Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: ErenxMarco Setting: Modern

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it was, the soup kitchen. The one Marco had been volunteering with every year since high school. It was such a good place, getting people something warm in their stomachs for the holidays, even if they could not afford it. Such a noble cause, and so easy to work at, all one needed was a food handler’s card issued by the state of New York, then he was set to work here on days he had off, especially during the holiday season. Christmas being only a few weeks away, made it much harder for him to do things without thinking of someone else. Walking towards the kitchen from his car, he could feel the cold December wind as it scratched and clawed at his nose.

Yes the cold was a factor, why he didn’t just walk all the way here despite living just two blocks away. That would have been truly insane to even attempt doing. It would take him forever just to warm up. That would have meant less time to help out around the soup kitchen, and unfortunately there always seemed to be more people out of work and out of a home at this time of year. Maybe they where just more open about it....or maybe he just didn’t notice, which may have just been his bad. He honestly did not know what to think there, but he always tried his hardest to give to those in need. That was one thing about him that really had not changed over the years.

As he walked in he was greeted by the man who ran the soup kitchen’s hardy laugh. He always did that when Marco came inside, it was like a tradition, Marco always noted how the man could make a very convincing Santa.

“Well if it isn’t Dr.Marco Bodt back again despite this being the only day off he has had all week. Damn I will never find another person quite like you.”

Marco chuckled. “Well I love this place, it is such a good place for everyone. And does great things, it’s a good way to spend my day off. Especially this time of year.”

Yes his life as a veterinarian was really busy with long, often times complicated hours he would work in a day, and a week. He was powerless against that, but on a day off he had to do something.

The soup kitchen was a good place to volunteer and do good things for people in his community. Those that were less fortunate than he was definitely needed this place to. Helping them made all of this worth it. Even with how much it really did not help him relax.

Right to the kitchen where he helped make the first few soups before the hungry started to arrive. Of course he recognized some of them, a few had a pretty bad hand, a few people with bad schizophrenia, unable to get a job because the hallucinations were too much, they could at least eat here, some people had sever claustrophobia could not function in enclosed spaces for long, but they at least got food, and he was proud of them for being able to face their fear to get something to eat. A few others who suffered from some sort of long term mental illness but could not get the mental illness treated for many reasons, from rejected family to the inability to get a job so they could get it treated.

The lack of accessible health care in this nation disgusted Marco. These people were all good people, they deserved a chance to get help and live a somewhat normal life here. He wanted so badly to help them someway, but a lot of them just smiled and told him it was okay, he could do it on his own.

Then his eyes practically popped at the person before him in the serving line. Those emerald green eyes, that signature messy brown hair, the band t-shirt...No doubt, Eren Yeager was the man standing before him.

The German immigrant teen he had known in high school was right there before him. As many of their friends called it, Eren had finally gotten his naturalized citizen status, then marched off to be a Marine in senior year.

Marco certainly had not been expecting to ever see Eren in the line at a soup kitchen, and based off Eren’s facial expression, he had not expected to run into an old friend here.

“Marco...I...uhhh....I...” Eren had no clue what to say and Marco could tell as he dished up the brunet’s soup and serve it to him. There was a lot on both of their minds now.

“Just go sit down for now Eren, I really want to talk to you after this, so please don’t leave until we get a chance to talk Eren. I definitely don’t think that is a good idea.” Intentions were clear here, Marco wanted to know what and all had gone on in the eight years since he had last seen Eren, especially since the brunet was now seemingly homeless.

“Okay...” There was no real way to argue with Marco, Eren respected him too much, and admired the hard work Marco did far too much to lie to his face. That would not have worked, nor been something he could really do.

It was about an hour of dinner before Marco could finally get out of the kitchen. It was not hard to find Eren. He was just outside, feeding a rather large dog in the back of a car.

Marco’s heart sunk, Eren was living out of a car with a dog. How undignified. What had happened in the past eight years? He had to find out. After taking a deep breath, Marco approached Eren.

“Eren, thank you for not just taking off like some people would have.” From the looks of things, Eren could at least afford enough to feed the dog and keep gas in the tank.

“Now Eren what happened? The last I heard you met a guy, got engaged, and made the cut for Sergeant. I was so happy for you, what happened? Please tell me.”

The sigh was expected of Eren as he looked over to Marco. “Well that was two years ago Marco, a lot can change in two years. Not long after that I got this big guy, his name is Titan.” He patted the dog’s head. “Unfortunately after we got stationed here again post Sergeant advancement, I got one final deployment, so we wound up delaying any form of wedding. I wound up getting PTSD over there, medical discharge. Worst thing they didn’t tell me, the plan i had with tricare did not cover any mental stuff. On top of all that my ex-fiance decided he couldn’t handle it when I woke up screaming at night and broke off the engagement kicking me and Titan here out.”

Marco blinked. “Wait, why didn’t the government help you? I mean, they are the ones who sent you over there, isn’t it there responsibility to make sure you are cared for when you get home.” He made a fist. “And your ex is lucky I can’t get to him.”

“I know that, Mikasa already offered to fly out and kill him, I said no.” Then his eyes flashed with pain. “Oh they have enough money for guns and bombs for their wars for oil, but not enough money to help when we get home, because we aren’t useful anymore then.” A bitter laugh escaped Eren at this point.

Marco felt awful for Eren. Being mistreated that way, but that still didn’t explain why he was out here on the streets, a guy like Eren could have easily gotten any job as far as Marco knew, anyone would be lucky to have Eren as an employee, determined, hard working, and honestly he was attractive, anyone could have easily employed him.

“Oh you know, Holly Wood. With their constant villianization of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is to thank for that.” Bitter anger laced every word as if it were venom on a snake’s fangs.

“I see....�� That is when an idea hit. “Why don’t you and Titan come with me? My apartment allows dogs, and I can’t imagine letting you live out of this car for any longer than you already have.”

Surprise evident, Eren smiled a bit. “Are you sure? I mean I am game with it, if you really think Titan and i won’t be a bother.” Marco’s hand had gone to the dog, who sniffed it, then licked his hand, getting a chuckle.

“Of course not, just follow my car okay?”

“Of course.” The drive took at least twenty minutes because of New York traffic, but what else was new? After arriving to the apartment, Eren sat on the couch as Marco sat next to him.

“You know Eren...when I heard you got engaged, yes I was happy for you...but I was just a little bit jealous.” Marco could not hold in some of these old feelings anymore.

Eren was quite, for a good thirty minutes while Marco silently cursed at himself, until the brunet finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me before Marco. If you had, I might not have left.”

“That is exactly why, besides, you and Armin had just broken up. You wanted to follow a dream, I wasn’t going to stop you...do you want to try?” Marco would never force Eren into something he did not want.

“I’d like that, but I can’t bring in money to the house, I wish I could but really right now I am not employable.” He sighs a bit rubbing behind his head.

“Just leave that to me for now, and first thing is first, we are getting you help with your PTSD.” Marco says giving Eren a quick kiss.

“I think this just might work out.” Eren mumbled, eyes finally closing.

#25 days of christmas drabble challenge #erenxmarco #eremarco #this took longer than i expected #day 17 #prompt volunteering #day 17 prompt voulenteering #{{here's a story for you}}; drabble #my writing

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themist-underground · 7 years

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Bonkai song meta: Without You I’m Nothing

To listen to the song: Placebo - Without You I’m Nothing [x] For the complete lyrics [x]

So I’ve been listening to this song two days ago and I realized how it could fit Bonkai I wanted to write a song meta, so here it is. Let’s say it’s my belated contribution for May 10th. It’s been some time i’m in hiatus, I apologize if I’m a little rusty. Tagging @l0nd0ninnit l cause I know she love those ;p

Strange infatuation seemed to fit well, first for pre-merge Kai. He’s intrigued; he observes her and Damon for four months before revealing himself. Although his ability to feel develops in time, I’m not sure he felt love at first sight, but definitely a kind of pull, as a sociopath it could be that he developed a fixation on Bonnie. Moreover there is a strange attraction between Bonnie and Kai, a force they pull them toward each other, and it’s been there from the first day they met.

(read more)

Grace the evening tide she’s the first woman (person) she met after all these years, in the again strange context of his life, unable to age or die in an empty prison world…

I’ll take it by your side. Their duo, the things they do because of each other…it comes back more than once, kinda like a promise? (like an i’ll go if you go?)

Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies. The parallels in their lives, Bonnie Bennett, a godsend really, for the fact that she appeared in his world, because that’s all he needed to get out of his prison. It leads the pack of lies, the schemes, and little mind-games that Kai inflicts to Damon and Bonnie to get out of the prison world.

Over saturation curls the skin and tans the hide. It’s the physical attraction and reaction. Bonnie’s emerging disgust for Kai. The force that both pulls them towards and far from each other, what it brings out of them is too much to bear. Bonnie isn’t accustomed to someone paying attention to what she is, the way he unravels her leads to violence and retaliation. Their “an eye for an eye” dynamic.

I’m unclean, a libertine. Kai’s unclean: siphoner, immoral, he has mental issues and is a murderer (and at first he is unapologetic about it). Bonnie is his opposite. As a libertine is someone is “free” with his intimate relationships, maybe it could make a reference to Kai sex appeal and to his inability to develop attachment to people (apart from Jo, is late brother Joey – it’s questionable I know - and then Bonnie).

And every time you vent your spleen, their heartfelt confession, the angst that surrounds them and their stories. Oh and of course although it’s not the meaning here the “spleen” was a nice play of words, lol. I seem to lose the power of speech. It makes me think of the moment where Kai meets Bonnie at the club.

(Him the guy who never stops talking, suddenly is mute, I’ll never get over this.)

You’re slipping slowly from my reach, for Kai people are like puppets you can play with to get what you want, he underestimated Bonnie who is smart enough to understand Kai mind games and ruin his plans, run away from him. You grow me like an evergreen (It’s maybe far stretched here) Bonnie grows Kai like a parasite plant, he gets under her skin,into her dreams… Kai he’s also slowly infected by his love for her. “You grow me”: there is a sense of control for the person he talks to. Since their meeting they also ‘grew’ and changed into other person.

You’ve never seen the lonely me at all, they were lonely in their life and they knew the loneliness of the prison world altough their experience were different. They both have been desperate enough to try suicide. Kai saves Bonnie at her birthday. Kai leaves Bonnie in the 1994 prison world, Bonnie leaves Kai in 1903 prison world.

Take the plan, spin it sideways. Their plans never happen easy or as it was prepared, like when they try to get out of 1994 or when Bonnie’s plan to take her revenge on Kai. Bonnie ruins Kai’s plans and makes his priorities change? Aka when he choses to save her.

Without you I’m nothing, they have a special dynamic, almost co-dependent when you think about how devastated they were and how betrayed they felt when they abandoned each other in the prison worlds. Again they both have some sort of control on eachother.

The special dynamic is also something intimate only both share. Only their dynamic can bring this special thing.

That’s between “When I’m fucked up that’s the real me” of The Weeknd and the “You’re so different around me" of Drake. And it’s violence, it’s passion, it’s toxic and unique. They lose themselves, but were they something before they met? It’s borderline unhealthy.

Without you I’m nothing, it’s also of course Kai falling in love with Bonnie. And he as only about her since the start. You get a little bit desperate with love, you know, that kind of stuff.

The song is kind of sad and Brian Molko’s voice is monotone, and you feel the desperation at some point? I believe the song talks about a couple, and depression. Idk at times it could be Kai talking. The melody also has this back and forth feeling, that make me think of Bonkai’s dynamic. The “tick toc” makes me thing of the importance of time in their story: the timing, the time that’s running out and the pressure, the spell that froze Kai at age 22, the eclipse and the ascendent mecansim that looks like a watch…the prison worlds set in the past etc.

disclaimer: none of the pretty gifs i used are mine :)

#bonkai #bonkai meta #feel free to add more!#sorry if i didn't tag more people i'm not sure who else would be interested #bonkai soundtraxx #i hope my gif addition is ok haha #usually i don't get it right #bonkaiedits

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 4

Chapter: 4/7 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Poor Roman. He made it so easy. Janus leaned in a little, not so much that he was intruding on Roman's personal space, and touched his knuckles to his chin. "Bore me? You're Creativity. What makes you think you could ever be boring?" He cocked his head and looked at Roman with expectation, inviting him to read between the lines. Who told Roman he was boring? Who made him feel like a burden?

The plan went into motion the following evening. Roman kept inconsistent hours and worked in inconsistent locations, and Janus had accordingly predicted long hours spent listening at the basement door for a chance at catching Roman alone. He was already working on a plan to lure Roman down, but it was difficult when his knowledge was barely surface-level. He didn't know in detail what Roman liked. But the wheels of fate turned and Roman bade his friends goodnight and announced that he would be staying up late to work on a project.

"That's lucky," Remus said when Janus informed him of the news.

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

"Beetlejuice is my thing," Remus said as Janus sank out.

He couldn't help the pang of loathing that pierced his heart at the sight of Roman scribbling away in a notebook. Remus had never been afforded the luxury of creative freedom, and it felt so obscene to stand here and watch Roman revel in it.

Willing his face into a more polite expression, Janus sat down by Roman and waited to be acknowledged.

Roman caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, but was too busy writing to spare the processing power it would take to identify his visitor. Whoever it was, they knew better than to interrupt him while he was preoccupied. He finished up his thought, jotted down one final note in the margin, and turned to address his guest. "H--Uh-- Deceit!" He jerked backward in surprise, slamming his notebook shut. "I wasn't expecting you." Despite his best efforts not to stare, his gaze kept falling on Janus' scales, his slit-pupiled snake eye. Roman tried not to shudder.

Janus cursed himself for not anticipating this. He should have sat on Roman's left side. Ah, well. Nothing to do for it now but apply extra charm. "Good evening, Roman," he purred, turning his head a little beyond what was comfortable so Roman could see more of his human side. "Did you know that you bite your lip when you concentrate? It's cute."

"Oh, um." Roman touched his fingertips to his lower lip, equal parts flattered and confused. "Thank you?" The overhead lights caught on Janus' cheekbone, giving him a soft glow. He gazed at Roman with gentle anticipation. Roman looked into the rich brown of his human eye. "I was just working on a story about, um, well… Oh, I won't bore you with the details."

Poor Roman. He made it so easy. Janus leaned in a little, not so much that he was intruding on Roman's personal space, and touched his knuckles to his chin. "Bore me? You're Creativity. What makes you think you could ever be boring?" He cocked his head and looked at Roman with expectation, inviting him to read between the lines. Who told Roman he was boring? Who made him feel like a burden?

"The, uh, the others," Roman stammered, not wanting to talk badly about his friends.

To his surprise, Janus flashed him an almost guilty smile before hiding it behind one gloved hand. "The others don't understand your creative vision, do they? I always wondered how you put up with them trying to shut you down."

"I don't know that they shut me down, exactly," Roman said, making one last effort to be charitable before sliding over the brink. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "But they never seem to want to listen. Logan is always poking holes in my plots and asking boring questions about the worldbuilding, and Patton always spaces out and asks me to repeat myself, like he can't even be bothered to listen to what I'm saying! And he always says the same thing whenever I ask for feedback. It's like, I don't need criticism, but I'd appreciate something a little more in-depth than 'oh, it's fine,' you know?" Janus nodded. Roman took a breath. "And Anxiety. I don't even want to think about what he'd say. He's always trying to shut me down before I even start: 'What if someone has done this before? What if nobody likes it? What if you're not good enough?'"

Janus raised his eyebrows and looked away. Some of that certainly sounded like Virgil, but he had a strong suspicion that most of Roman's insecurities originated from within himself. "I agree, he's not good for you."

"Oh!" Roman ran a hand through his hair and looked away. "I don't- I didn't mean.. "

"You said it yourself," Janus said, preemptive triumph blazing beautiful and cruel in his chest, "he sabotages your function." He pictured Roman alone in his room, hunched over a notebook and scribbling furiously with a pen that would not and could not write. Or better yet, Roman with a functioning pen staring paralyzed at the blank page before him, his own insecurities stilling his hand. "He's bad for you."

"Hold on a second," Roman said, putting up a hand to stop Janus. How did they get here? He'd just been venting, and now suddenly Virgil was to blame for all his problems? He nearly smacked his own forehead when it clicked just who he was talking to. "I didn't mean that!"

"But you said it," Janus said, feigning misunderstanding. "So you lied to me?"

"No, no, that was true."

"Then we're in agreement. Anxiety is bad for you."

Roman shook his head emphatically. "It was true. Anxiety was bad for me. He's changed."

Janus couldn't help himself; he rolled his eyes. "He's Anxiety! It's literally his job to shoot you down."

"I used to think that," Roman said, anger spilling into his cheeks and turning his face red. "But I know better now. Anxiety isn't like you and my brother; he has a place with us and he helps us make Thomas the best possible version of himself. And if you don't understand that, then I don't think I have anything more to say to you. And don't even think about coming anywhere near Anxiety ever again. I won't allow it."

Janus took in a shaky breath, finally letting his hatred, his frustration, his despair show on his face. And he struck, envenomating the weapon Roman had unwittingly handed him: "Very well, Roman. But let me leave you with this: Anxiety has nothing to do with your inability to perform. You're only half a function, and nothing you make will ever stand up as long as you remain afraid of your own potential. You're just as inadequate as you think you are, and it's nobody's fault but your own."

And, still shaking with rage, he sank out.

"Shit!" Janus slammed his open palm into the wall and pressed into it, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

There was no reply but the scratching of pen on paper. Janus whipped his head around and the anger drained from him at the sight of Remus scribbling away in a notebook. At least some good had come out of his little confrontation.

"Well, I'm not sure what you did to my brother," Remus said, not looking up, "but he's definitely distracted."

"I may…" Janus said delicately, rubbing the heel of his hand with his opposing thumb, "have failed to account for certain unexpected variables." He sat down next to Remus, careful not to jostle him, and grit his teeth.

"Mm?" Remus said, turning a page.

"Such as your brother being too thick-headed and stubborn to listen when someone's trying to manipulate him." Janus scoffed.

"Mm," said Remus, still writing.

Janus glanced over at him. Just as Roman had been doing earlier, Remus was chewing at his lower lip while he wrote, his brow creased. Janus tapped his fingertips against his own lips. He shouldn't have called Roman 'half a function,' and not just because it implied that Remus was as well. He knew from experience that lashing out only ever made things harder for himself. Now a whole new barrier towered before him and it was nobody's fault but his own. Janus laughed humorlessly, not missing the irony. He would blame Roman, though. It hurt less that way.

"I suppose it's too much to ask," Janus mused out loud, "that things could just be easy for once."

Remus stopped writing, ignoring the pang of regret, and scooted over so he could put his arm around Janus. It was undeniably painful to throw away an opportunity to make his voice heard, but Janus needed him now. He never admitted when he wanted comfort, so Remus had become adept at picking up on unvoiced desires over the years. "Yeah, probably."

"Please do stop writing; that won't make me feel guilty at all."

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

It was an obvious lie, but Janus let it go. He leaned into Remus' shoulder despite the way it knocked his hat askew and tried not to think about Virgil. "I don't even miss him," he said, the lie ringing hollow even in his own ears. "We just can't let him start working against us."

"We won't," Remus promised. "He'll come back. We can be his favorites again." After all, they had been friends before. Whatever Roman and the others had done to charm Virgil could be undone. He would remember his friends again. "And besides, we have Plan B for Butthole!"

Janus laughed despite himself and let Remus pull him in closer. "Maybe let's wait to implement that one."

Roman couldn't breathe properly; something was wrong with his lungs. Every inhale hitched in his throat and his mouth ached like he was about to cry.

But he dismissed that ridiculous thought with a firm shake of his head. He was the guardian prince, the hero! Heroes never wept for themselves.

He swallowed down the ache and got to his feet so he could find Virgil and let him know what had happened.

If a few wayward tears slipped down Roman's cheeks as he ascended the staircase, he wiped them away without giving them a second thought. The jaunt up the stairs did nothing to help his erratic breathing, and he was almost winded by the time he got to Virgil's door.

He had to knock for a long time before Virgil finally answered. He had been listening to his music as loud as he could tolerate it, and had only noticed Roman's knocking during a transition between songs.

Virgil's sarcastic greeting died on his lips at the sight of Roman panting in the doorway. His lower lip trembled and his eyes were suspiciously shiny, but his voice was steady as ever when he spoke. "Anxiety! I need to speak with you."

"Dude, are you okay?" Virgil asked, letting the walls of his brooding facade fall away in the face of his concern for his friend.

"Never better!" Roman declared. He was determined not to let Virgil see just how deep Janus' words had cut him. "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure, I guess." Virgil stepped aside, trying not to feel too self-conscious about his unmade bed.

Roman didn't comment on it, just followed Virgil's lead and sat down on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed. Despite the persistent ache in his chest, he fought for bravado. "I've just faced off against a fiendish foe!"

Virgil's heart dropped into his stomach. "Oh, yeah?"

"Indeed. I went toe-to-toe with a certain sneaky snake and scared him silly!"

"What did he say to you?" Virgil demanded. Everything slotted into place in an instant, Roman's shaky demeanor and false confidence.

Roman waved a hand, annoyed to notice it was shaking. "Nothing of import. You don't have to worry about me, Anxiety, I can handle myself in these matters."

Virgil supposed he should have seen this coming. "So let me guess. You're worried about me ."

"Of course I'm not worried about you!" Roman said, puffing out his chest. "You have the best protector in the world."

"You?"

"Me!"

"So why did you need to come see me?" Virgil asked. Whatever Janus had said to Roman obviously hadn't altered Roman's opinion of Virgil any.

"Exactly that," Roman said. "That you need not worry. I banished the snake back to the basement where he belongs! And I told him that I would not allow him to see you ever again."

Virgil couldn't stop the look of horror that crossed his face. He pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to calm his own breathing. "What?"

"I stood up to that fork-tongued fiend and told him to leave you alone forever," Roman said, a little less self-assured this time. He knew better than to expect a wondrous display of gratitude from Virgil, but he had been expecting some sort of thanks.

"That's great," Virgil said weakly. He knew he wasn't selling it, but was too overwhelmed to really care. "Thanks."

Roman nodded. "Well, I suppose l'll, ah. I'll just go, then." He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to stay until he was faced with the idea of leaving. But Virgil just nodded, his eyes empty, so Roman saw himself out.

Virgil immediately started to chew on his thumbnail, mind racing. He knew should have asked for more details from Roman but panic had a way of demanding attention, choking out rationality. He was thinking clearly now, though. He had failed. Whatever Janus had said had obviously hurt Roman badly, and Virgil hadn't been a good enough friend to try to fix it, and he hadn't been a good enough protector to prevent it. The only thing he could do now was try to stop it from happening again.

Virgil sighed and let his head fall back against the edge of his bed. He was absolutely certain that Janus would be out for blood now.

#spicywrites #spicywrites a place where i can breathe

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