#DAMIEN HOWEVER. i tolerated him at first. this is why i could never be a monsterfucker

[homingpigecns]

done with penumbra...... i have squeezed every bit of enjoyment i could out of that series like it was an orange and i was a unitasker. juno you will always be my blorbo. But I Am Not This Strong

[hellpark]

GREGORY: Oh my, seems Craig’s little online army doesn’t have a care at all that I’ve taken command of his weblog.

GREGORY: Estella, there are people who are actually curious about the true side of things, would you believe that?

ESTELLA: Are you really fiddling around with that stupid thing over there?

ESTELLA: Of course you couldn’t hold back from sating your bloated ego, you needed electronic strangers to help inflate it even further, you limp, detached and wounded tail of a diseased lizard.

GREGORY: Goodness, there are questions regarding both you and I, you know.

GREGORY: I haven’t so much as talked about myself at all, mind you.

ESTELLA: Why are there people attempting to talk to me through that device.

ESTELLA: Are you truly so stupid as to inform everybody of our whereabouts?

GREGORY: Heavens, no.

GREGORY: Just having some fun, is all.

GREGORY: You should join me with this one, spare yourself a moment why don’t you.

ESTELLA: Ugh, if it will get you off my back, fine.

GREGORY: Now this one asks what our impression of each of those incessant dullards Craig calls friends is.

ESTELLA: All of them are as stale and boring as a long forgotten water biscuit fallen beneath a dumpster.

GREGORY: Right you are.

ESTELLA: Can I get back to what I was doing, now?

GREGORY: Not quite, I think I’d fancy tearing down the walls of each individual here.

GREGORY: It’s only fair that these curious strangers get their just earful.

ESTELLA: [sigh]

ESTELLA: If you insist.

GREGORY: I suppose we might as well start with the most likely focus of interest, the original owner of this log.

GREGORY: Craig.

GREGORY: You know originally, I didn’t have all too much of an issue with this brain dead husk of a man.

GREGORY: I told him.

GREGORY: If he doesn’t fuck with me, I would have no qualms against him.

ESTELLA: And yet here you are, still plucking splinters from the backside of your head.

GREGORY: I could tell he was going to be a problem from the start, I just figured he’d be too slow and careless to be much of an actual threat.

ESTELLA: I’d almost say it’s adorable how angry you are over such a nuisance of a boy; But you’re far too revolting to ever be adorable, so I will just say it’s amusing.

GREGORY: ...

GREGORY: I don’t like him.

GREGORY: I’ll leave it at that.

ESTELLA: I couldn’t care less for that gelatinous clump of blue ink.

GREGORY: I suppose next would be his subordinate friend-- Clyde, is it?

GREGORY: The one you stupidly chose to take control of.

GREGORY: Over just about any other candidate.

ESTELLA: I do not need to be reminded.

ESTELLA: He was simply the most emotionally compromised at the time.

GREGORY: It’s become clear that’s just how he always is.

ESTELLA: You sure took your oh so pleasant time getting me out of that putrid cauldron of body odor and unpleasantly placed hair.

ESTELLA: He’s quite revolting when he’s all alone, do you know this?

GREGORY: Do you mean... more so than you find other men to be, or...

ESTELLA: Yes, I do mean more so.

ESTELLA: You have no idea the things I had to sit through with that horrid, small manhooded caveman.

GREGORY: I’m sure.

GREGORY: I have no real feelings towards him either way, though he seems a little too keen on Tweek for my liking.

GREGORY: Or, I should say, Tweek seems a little too trusting of him.

GREGORY: So in turn, I am not too fond of him, either.

GREGORY: Now, the one I find the most tolerable of the bunch is certainly Token.

GREGORY: I remember him well from when I was still alive.

GREGORY: Truly, if there were anybody to rival Wendy and I’s intellectual abilities together, it would be him.

ESTELLA: Well, he did throw all of us under the bus by telling Damien exactly what we’ve been up to on the surface, so I do not think I can possibly see him in the same light as you.

GREGORY: Oh, well I suppose there is that.

ESTELLA: Other than that, I find him a rather boring, simple minded individual.

ESTELLA: He could die the most foul and upsetting death imaginable, and I would not think any different of him-- same goes for the rest of those boys.

GREGORY: Mm, well, I still think I find him the most bearable of the bunch.

ESTELLA: If you say so, you blood-drunk man loving tick.

ESTELLA: Let’s talk about the best of the bunch, why don’t we?

GREGORY: Oh? Do you suddenly have a favorite?

ESTELLA: Why yes I do.

ESTELLA: Stan, of course.

GREGORY: Oh. Him.

GREGORY: That thick-headed, good for nothing drain on society...

GREGORY: That’s who your favorite is?

ESTELLA: Yes indeed.

ESTELLA: I just love it when the real you comes out.

ESTELLA: Look at you now. Can’t help your horns from showing, you’re just so upset that anybody could possibly like that van-hit skunk.

ESTELLA: As if I’d actually enjoy him any more than the other bloody idiots.

GREGORY: There are few people more deserving of hell than Stan Marsh.

ESTELLA: I could think of many, but if you take such offense to your own personal death, I won’t stop you from thinking of that.

ESTELLA: My, you’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re angry...

ESTELLA: My opinion of him is rather neutral, but he’s a man so there isn’t much about him that’s favorable anyways.

GREGORY: Let’s talk about his counterpart instead.

ESTELLA: And who would that be?

GREGORY: Kyle.

GREGORY: The bloke with the ugly green ushanka.

ESTELLA: Oh, that collapsed anal cavity of a sewer rat.

ESTELLA: The opinionated one who thinks his insufferably bland words actually matter.

ESTELLA: Rather rich, but that’s all I can give him.

GREGORY: He’s always thought of himself as some sort of martyr of first world problems.

GREGORY: I’m sure if he wasn’t so full of himself he’d be less of a drain to talk to.

ESTELLA: Funny, that’s how I feel about you.

ESTELLA: You’re really just describing yourself, you know.

GREGORY: When I fight for justice, I’m not doing it to make myself feel good.

GREGORY: I do it for those who cannot take action themselves.

ESTELLA: Oh, I’m sure you love to tell yourself that.

GREGORY: Speaking of selfish drains...

GREGORY: It truly shows how utterly stupid all of Stan’s friends are, still hanging around that tub of lard Eric.

ESTELLA: He didn’t really speak much while I was around, so all he is to me is another worthless sausage on a rusted old pan.

GREGORY: All I saw was that he still looks like he’s 10, and certainly still sounds like it.

ESTELLA: Smells like it, too.

GREGORY: I never did like the boy, he completely ruined an entire covert operation, you know?

GREGORY: Directly caused the death of a fellow comrade.

GREGORY: Of course we were all turned back before the war, thus nullifying all of our actions henceforth, but it still stands that the old paranoid fool he killed never quite was the same.

ESTELLA: Oh, let’s not start this conversation again.

ESTELLA: You talked my ear off for days on end the last time I decided to indulge in your simplistic babblings of self-perceived hardship.

GREGORY: Though who I find most interesting throughout all of what we went through was who really saved us all in the end.

GREGORY: I hadn’t seen all too much of him beforehand, yet he sacrificed himself for the entire town over in the end.

GREGORY: That Kenny fellow...

GREGORY: You know, despite spiking me over the head with that lawn ornament earlier, I don’t really have too harsh a thought on him.

GREGORY: I blame Tweek and Thomas for not warning me more than anything, really.

GREGORY: There’s something about him that seemed all too familiar, though, even as a young adult now...

ESTELLA: I am taking advantage of the fact that you look like you’re lost in your tiny, hollowed out peanut shell of a brain to say that I am leaving now.

ESTELLA: There are better things to attend to.

GREGORY: I can’t even remember how he came back from the dead, he just appeared one day, good as new.

GREGORY: I never knew the original ruler of hell personally, only his son of course, but perhaps there was some sort of additional deal made for him to return to the land of the living once more?

GREGORY: Honestly, this perplexes me severely now that I think about it, and I can’t believe I’ve not thought about it more until now.

GREGORY: Needless to say, this one’s an interesting individual, to say the least.

GREGORY: Definitely not one I’d think to trust any time soon, however. He’s far too... suspicious of a person...

GREGORY: Hmm...

GREGORY: Well-- that’s all of them I suppose.

GREGORY: Though, hmm...

GREGORY: I could have sworn Craig’s friends had one more on their team...?

GREGORY: I wonder where they could be in all of this mess.

GREGORY: ...These are quite fun, I think I may indulge myself in a few more...

[confusedbutstillgay]

A Headcanon I Have About the Thing in the House

Before we start; this is my personal head canon that will not be pushed on anyone else, and minor amounts of it will be part of my fanfics, but most of it will not (besides a fanfic I may write revolving around this). If you enjoyed this, or even agree with it (or even elements of it), I'd be glad to know! And if you disagree I'd like to hear your own interpretation of this. I hope you all enjoy this!

Okay, so let's start. I think that the Thing in the House has far more power- and far more importance- in the Markiplier Egos fandom than we originally thought. First off, I believe that the Thing can shape-shift, emotionally and mentally manipulate, and force people to feel emotions that they wouldn't usually feel during that situation. 

I want to talk about Celine first. I believe that she made a pact with the Thing in the House so that both she and Damien could leave the Upside Down, and the Thing took control of her soul (I explain why later). But I don't think it mentioned the specifics on how it would get her and Dames out; probably forcing Celine to agree more quickly than she usually would (like I believe it did Damien when "Celine" was convincing him to help her convince the DA to give up heir body). So then "Celine"- the Thing in the House, more like- did exactly that. 

After taking the DA's body, I think the Thing in the House shaped the body to look like Damien's. Why? Possibly to make him feel more in power, give him a false sense of control. It would be a nice show of how the Thing could emotionally manipulate. 

But inside of Dark's mind, Celine lived on, because the Thing unintentionally brought her in by controlling her soul rather than just eradicating her and taking her form. In my opinion, I think this is because the Thing needs a small bit of a human soul to show emotions like sincerity, concern, sorrow, etc. So the events of DAMIEN come forth, where Celine tries to protect Damien from the Thing in the House, and prevent him for succumbing to the it. 

Which I believe took two forms through this entire thing. I have to note that I believe the Thing in the House is not a solid, singular being; I think it can be in multiple parts, or even multiply. So the Thing took the form of the monsters we see in DAMIEN as well as the Actor (which, again, I'll talk about later). 

So when Damien agrees to "be the villain," and Celine decides to leave him, I think that's also the Thing controlling her and forcing her to be eradicated forever. So when she says goodbye, she really is gone. And the Thing in the House reveled in the success, because it has control over Damien at last. 

But, in my mind, I think that Damien managed to find a way to fight against the Thing, not entirely being in control of what's going on and whatnot but also having a fraction of his soul left. Again, my idea that the Thing needs a part of a human soul to show more human emotions.

But the majority of Dark- at the moment, at least- is the Thing in the House, is why Dark is how they are. Manipulative, possessive, angry, uncaring about others, all traits we never saw in neither Damien nor Celine, at least not in the amounts that Dark held. This is the Thing in the House almost completely and entirely; Damien has no control over anything. 

So what of the Actor, you may ask? Well, I think that, first of all, the Thing never made Celine cheat on Mark. I think that she was just unhappy with her marriage, and was unsatisfied with Mark, because they quite honestly don't seem like a very good couple, in my mind. They compliment each other to some extent; Celine being more in control while Mark is more loose. But they probably just lacked things like communicating. Mark's job probably would have kept him away for a long, long time, and Celine doesn't seem like a woman who would do well in a long-distance relationship. So, yeah; I don't think that the Thing forced Celine to go be with Wil. 

However, I do believe it took advantage of Mark's emotionally unstable state and decided to wreak havoc on Mark's life, and the people in it, just because it could. That does seem to be its only purpose, anyways. So it carefully planned on how to do just that, but its plans went a little askew. 

But that's not my point. I think that the Thing trapped Mark in the Upside-Down as soon as he agreed to the Thing's offer, which would likely be general happiness or peace. And it locked him away for a few years, taking his form and quietly forming a plan, then putting it into place and waiting for it to unfold. But when it didn't, it recalculated and ended up with much more than they originally wanted. 

While in the Upside Down, I think that Mark would have been forced to watch Celine make a deal with the Thing, and watch as "she" and Damien convinced the DA to give up their body for them. He would just be trapped, but I think that, in its absence (having invested all energy on its new "project" and forgotten about Mark) he and the DA would have met. And even became friends. 

I believe that the events of DAMIEN took around 90 years, simply because Dark themself doesn't make an appearance since what I believe is about 90 years after the events of Who Killed Markiplier. So Mark and the DA would have known each other for 90 years, likely forming a very good friendship. 

Then what? Well, I think part of the Thing in the House detached a part of itself from Dark- no longer needing to focus as much attention to them, as it had mainly won Damien over- and focused on their next project. It forced Mark to continue the name Markiplier, but this time as a YouTuber. Because it could not convey human emotions, and didn't want to take form of Mark while having to get another fragment of a human soul (only having so much of Damien's), I think it would have thought it made more sense to force Mark into this. Why? Perhaps just to torture him more. Not knowing that he had formed a friendship with the DA, it thought it had nothing more to take from Mark, and simply decided to play around with him like a puppet. 

But after realizing he had a friendship with the DA, it probably would have also forced the DA to be a part of Mark's channel; maybe just sitting on the sidelines and making occasional commentary.  Though it made a mistake in deciding not to keep in touch with Dark. Because the amount of power suppressing Damien's soul considerably less, I think he would have managed to take more control over everything, though the Thing was still very prominent. This is why he still respects Will and is cold and formal, but tolerant towards the other Egos. 

When it comes to things like Heist, that's still Mark and the DA, but it's on the Thing's call, not theirs. I think that the Thing honestly just enjoyed making Mark do things he enjoyed at its core, but didn't exactly like as much when he was forced to. 

Okay, well, I hope that this all makes sense. I really enjoyed making this headcanon and writing it out so I could explain it to everyone else. This isn't the type of thing I do quite often, but it is something I enjoy when it does happen. So yeah I hope you guys liked this, let me know if you want to have a fanfic revolving around this, and I hope you guys have a great day <3

[curious-menace]

The rogue gallery members general reaction to encountering the batman who laughs and his creepy ass Robin's.

ok id like to preface this by saying that red death batman straight up crucified riddler and decapitated scarecrow and the batman who laughs is MUCH worse than red death batman. 

i want to enjoy the dark knights metal but it is needlessly fuckin complicated with all this multiverse oververse omniverse shit. maybe i just don't have the galaxy brain necessary to get it so i apologize if this is all wrong 

(also i know its canon that the batman who laughs has no rogues gallery left, either because he killed them or joker killed them before he turned but hey ho hypotheticals it is)

also no one talk to me about kiss fan lookin riddler from this verse. im not ready. 

Penguin

i think his first reaction was to laugh. Batman’s finally gone and he took joker with him. I mean he literally calls him "bat gimp". I seriously doubt he anticipated the fallout of batman becoming some sort of hideous joker hybrid. he still chuckled when he started seeing the news. someone calling themselves “the batman who laughs” and “the darkest knight” then he sees the robins, he even recognises damien and it makes him a little sick. he books the next flight out of goodwin before things get too hot. 

shame goodwin was burned to the ground to stop anyone leaving gotham. 

with everyone inside. 

Twoface

i dont think its an exaggeration to say he was absolutly fuckin horrified. it's rare that harvey and two face agree on something, but this bastard has to go. the murder and mayhem he could tolerate, hell even killing the other rogues, some of them needed to be stopped. but having to look at this creature and know it was once bruce? harvey knows better than anyone its a fate worse than death to be trapped in your own mind with someone else running the show. they do their best to stop the darkest knight, bring all the hired guns they can to the fight but it wasnt enough. Harvey dies, but at least he went out trying to do the right thing.

Poison Ivy

She sensed him coming, her flowers screaming at her to save herself. part of me wants to hope she took one look at that abomination and noped the fuck out of there to slaughter swamp or something. but we know ivy, she stands her ground like a tree planted by a river. she looks people like batman and joker right in the eye and down the barrel of a gun and says “no, you move” Shes not a good person, but in this verse she might as well be the hero of the story, maybe the only meta human in gotham who stood a chance against him. The batman who laughs was scared of her and thats why she had to die. if she’d just minded her own business she might still be here but no. She dares the batman who laughs to come for her, she’s going to take him out. for what he did to her plants, to gotham, to HER home and HER friends. unfortunately for her ivy was one of the first on his kill list. She doesn't go down without a fight. ironically it was her human qualities, the human drive to help people that got her killed. she heard one of the robins crying and went to investigate. the batman who laughs doesn't care about those robins, he’s got a basement full of jokerized kids to throw at people. 1 to trick her and a few more to hold her down while he doused the lot of them with weedkiller and gasoline then poof.

i doubt the botanical gardens will ever be the same. 

Scarecrow

part of me wants to say he’s loving this. He’s enjoying all the suffering and sadness and fear as the batman who laughs murders everyone and everything from the dandelions upwards . but he cant, not just because he’s not the one causing it. this is fear without meaning or purpose, this is killing hope so thoroughly that there is nothing left for people to fear, not even death. he’s not so foolish as to think he wont also be on the batman who laughs chopping block. so he makes himself scarce, works on a toxin that might be able to stop him or even slow him down so someone has a shot at it. Jon knows hes going to die, its only a matter of time before that thing calling itself the darkest knight sends one of his minions to his doorstep. He’s been working on something to try and help the rabid robins. he has a small soft spot in his cold obsidian heart for kids and looking at these creatures makes him physically ill. 

he thinks hes made a breakthrough, thinks he’s finally got a formula that will effect batman and the joker and hopefully, whatever abomination they’ve become . he decides theres no time like the present to try it out when word of the other rouges deaths reach him. he’s the last one left and thats....well its scary. His surprise attack works, the robins go down without a fight, screaming and scratching at their faces, their throats and each other. regrettable but if he stops the darkest knight now, maybe jon can help them. Just when he thinks he’s got him, scarecrow goes down. so close, he falls at the finishing line, his toxin having as much effect as a gentle summers breeze. Much like the original scarecrow , the batman who laughs likes using guns. For jon however? he makes an exception. poor scarecrow gets eviscerated by his own scythe, pilfered from arkham asylum by the batman who laughs. gotta love the classics, right?

Riddler

Riddler was second on his kill list. only because the batman who laughs knew how much it would annoy riddler not to be at the top. He’s another rogue who stood a chance of stopping him if he really tried. sadly edward is nowhere near as altruistic as harvey, and could never be as strong as ivy. He likes to think his escape is for everyone's benefit. live to fight another day and all that. He learned from harvey and pamelas mistakes, took one look at this new batman and his creepy kids and said “fuck that noise” and tried to run. except he didn't really try. god if he’d only gotten out of the city, he would have been the only rogue that survived. the batman who laughs looks at him like a pathetic insect, unworthy of notice. he’d have killed riddler eventually, maybe put him in a riddle with no answer or a trap with no escape for extra irony points but he wasn't about to stop the little green cockroach from skittling away.  but of course, riddlers ego got in the way; he just HAD to try and best this new batman, no matter how much he scared the shit out of riddler he just HAD to try. and of course, pride comes before downfall. 

The batman who laughs helpfully provided riddler with some rope to help break his fall. 

Harley Quinn

some part of her was happy to have joker back. he was different, scarier but she was used to the abuse. what she wasn't used to were all the kids. she recognised damian wayne but didn't quite put the pieces together to realise it was bruce under there. she thought maybe he was just a random casualty . she tried hard to look after the kids but they act like animals rather than humans, there was nothing she could do.As time went on she found it harder and harder to sit at the right hand of this clown prince of horrors. harley has always been along for the ride, but how are you supposed make the whole world laugh if everyone in it is dead? i dont know what happens to harley in this world. either she leaves and much like joker, the batman who laughs fails to notice, shes killed by him because he was bored or she does when the world is destroyed by barbatos. either way, no happy endings here. 

Thanks for this incredibly depressing ask Ghostly T-T

im kidding, im kidding it was fun! it makes me wish i knew what the everloving FUCK was going on with this verse so i could enjoy it properly. the only comic store i know of has been closed since like march of last year and i don't know what im looking for on amazon to actually order them. i have 1 issue of nth metal but it was interesting enough that i want the collection.

if anyone knows what the collection is actually called hmu bc i wanna buy it. 

yes i could read it online but i like owning the hard copies. 

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm!💜💙🧡💛💚❤️

[anticatradoraofficial]

Anti-Catra/Catradora

This series has always felt like the Catra Show, and so much so that even Hordak never felt like the main villain. And nothing drove that point home more than season five proving once and for all that this series moral line(or lack there of) is REALLY about a Villain Protagonist when the character that increasingly became a MONSTER for FOUR SEASONS still got everything she wanted in the end.

Catra is the poster child for the moral bankruptcy of this series.

I can’t buy her “redemption,” or her relationship with Adora, because she WENT TO FAR.

Therefore nor can I buy the HYPOCRITICAL mental gymnastics that arise when she is a topic of discussion in the fandom.

For four seasons I watched this character WILLINGLY and GLEEFULLY jump rope with the moral event horizon. Then she finally broke it to the pieces when she genocides the planet, and everyone on it, because of her sick,evil obsession with being better than Adora.

Loved all this time my behind.

Catra was a vile person from her introduction, and just got increasingly more poisonous as the show went on.

The story seems to want us to treat Catra like a bad friend that said a few mean words here and there, and therefore all she has to do is sincerely apologize then friendship can begin again.

Here’s the thing Catra wasn’t just a bad friend, but also an ABUSER and a FASCIST.

She had multiple opportunities to leave the horde, had no reason to stay in the first place, gleefully attacks the resistance, is pretty much the direct reason Angela died, tried straight up multiple times to end Adora’s and her friends lives, and was just an abomination to even the ones on her side etc..

On the flip side we have Adora who doesn’t give a damn about Catra for four seasons. She’s too busy enjoying life with her REAL  friends. Try and recall, was there ever a moment where Adora was…concerned for Catra’s safety? Pining for her in any way romantically? Ever? Even once during the first four? Because I don’t. Honestly Catra wasn’t important to Adora until Catra showed up on screen. And then they both wanted to kill each other. Any moments of Adora thinking about Catra it was in the context of Catra being her ENEMY.

But I’m supposed to believe in their romance based on what?

Catra’s toxicity? Adora’s nonexistent romantic feelings for pretty much the entire series?

In season 5 all Catra had to do was one act of atonement and out of nowhere, like Adora has been possessed by the ghost of Queer Rep, she suddenly can’t get Catra out of her head. Also note Catra didn’t save Glimmer because she realized her past actions were evil, no it was all for Adora’s sake; the person she is toxically obsessed with.

Back to Catra, her redemption is handled with the most condescending of kid gloves.She seems like she was replaced by a clone for season five. She’s just accepted. It’s like seasons 1-4 didn’t happen.

The forgiveness was excessive, and therefore forced, so we could be okay with this ABUSER/WAR CRIMINAL being chummy and romantic with her victims.

For example Glimmer cries over her, kisses her cheek etc… Yet Catra is responsible for her mothers death, the world ending once before, trying to kill her, war crimes against Bright Moon etc.

Then Entrapta also forgives Catra like it’s nothing even though she sent HER TO DIE, and apparently she was in this hell space for a YEAR.

Same with Scorpia who forgives Catra’s toxicity in five seconds.

But everything is suppose to be wonderful because an abuser ends the series romantically involved with her victim?

When Adora said you made your choice now live with it THAT should have been the end of any reconciliation either platonic of romantic.

Even her flashbacks are her being abusive. You see her in one of them( in her so called redemption season at that) SCRATCHING Adora’s FACE to the point it left BLOOD,and JUMPING ON HER STOMACH just because Adora DARED to be friends with other people.

This was pretty much every childhood flashback they showed. She would emotionally and physically abuse Adora, and then Adora would take her back. This would continue even as near adults. It was a PATTERN(red flag) that Adora unfortunately didn’t escape. 

But…..I always loved you,says Catra.

For ADORA’S own mental health/closure she could forgive,but only if she also makes it clear that she doesn’t want her abuser/war criminal ex friend back in her life.

I could have tolerated that ending instead of Adora becoming a COUPLE with her ABUSER.

Basically this villain sue ends the show getting everything she wants even after evil manipulation of several characters, genocide, war crimes against her own people, physical and mental abuse(especially toward Adora), repeated attempts at murder toward again especially Adora( bares repeating loved all this time my behind) as well as anyone else within spitting distance of her toxicity.

She gets to be pretty much a abusive scum bucket for four seasons, on top of ACTUALLY DOING THE SAME THING PRIME WANTED TO DO, yet whiplash forgiveness and Lesbians 4 Evah is her ending.

“So we’re all just okay with this?”, says Mermista incredulously of the war criminal Hordak. Good question,but then I remember you all seem to be okay with war criminal Catra who is pretty much Hordak’s parallel soo ….

Her mirror Hordak, according to the showrunner, is sentenced to beast island for his war crimes. However, my question then becomes where is Catra’s sentence?

Oh, that’s right if you’re Catra you get to be a war criminal in peace.

It’s also convenient that Mermista’s was chipped,and therefore didn’t get to say anything to the girl who helped bring down her kingdom with a smile on her face.

Funny how that worked out.

It’s even more convenient that her victims gave their lighting fast forgiveness.

Can’t have icky things like abuse and war crimes get in the way of that ending smooch you know.

I suppose we also just need to look at Angella as collateral damage while we smile at her daughter hug and kiss her killer I guess.

I also find it odd(since were loving abusers and war criminals) that Shadow Weaver point blank doesn’t get forgiveness from Adora, and she even ends the series dead. However, she defected to the good side in season two(regardless of any impure motivation), and stayed there and helped the protagonists until her season five death. But Catra who not only stayed with the conquering organization the Horde for almost the entire series,and even became their LEADER, was not only forgiven but also given a romance with her victim. Curious.

I’m tired of this abominable trope invading every piece of media.

An antagonist crosses the moral event horizon, and some even break it to pieces, but somehow the story gets selective amnesia and thus they are free to join the protagonists with their numerous sick crimes ignored or a sob story is bsed into a justification onto why we should ignore physical and emotional abuse and/or the numerous bodies piled up.

When you don’t have a moral LINE in your narrative then that means you have already made a mockery out of morality and numerous victims.

The only way I can stomach her season five ‘redemption’, and lighting quick forgiveness, is if I forget the monster of four seasons didn’t exist. Problem is I can’t do that.

Why should I get any catharsis that the protagonists prevailed over Horde Prime when you have two characters in  particular(Hordak,Catra) that are pretty much him with a sob story attached. If THEY get to kumbaya with the hero’s then Prime should to because that’s honestly where the morals are at in this story.

I had to stop watching two shows(Vampire Diaries and Once Upon a Time) because I got tired of this sick trope. There were SEASONS worth of whitewashing and selective amnesia for two sick and evil characters(Damien Savatore and Regina), to the point their VICTIMS became their BIGGEST CHEERLEADERS and LOVE INTERESTS.

There is no justice when this vile trope is in play.

The moral event horizon exists for a reason. It means once a character has jumped over it then there should be no moral way they can come back from it.

Humanizing them is a good narrative choice,but that humanization doesn’t and SHOULDN’T erase their heinous crimes.

Thus the only true ending that moral event horizon characters should get are redemption equals death or thanks for growing a conscious and helping us out, but you’re STILL going to prison for life afterwards kay. They don’t get to kumbaya with their victims while the other one’s, THE DEAD BODIES, stay cold.

But you know if I HAD to I COULD have TOLERATED Catra and Hordak going on an atonement journey so they could help the people still living that they made homeless/ lives they ruined. Also they can do this while they both get the therapy they badly need.

I needed CONSEQUENCES that STUCK.

Instead Catra (ADORA’S ABUSER) gets to make out with Adora(HER VICTIM), and also become her girlfriend as well as best friends of her other victims.

So it seems this show’s message is no matter how much emotional and physical pain a person does to you it’s okay to not only let them back in your life(damn your mental health I guess),but also enter a romantic relationship with them to.

Yes, that’s what children need to see.

I did my research on the show runner, and the creators pet/villain sue bias became clearer when I did so. Catra is HER pretty much, and Adora is her wife.

That explains EVERYTHING, and not in a good way.

What the show’s title should actually be called: She-Ra: The Show Where The Villain Sue Antagonist,War Criminal Abuser, Gets a Happily Ever After With Her Victim; Whom She Emotionally and Physically Abused for Four Seasons. Another alternate: She-Ra: The Story of Lesbian Reylo.

Thank you for sharing this submission with us.

[fantasyraindrps]

Anti Catra/Catradora

This series has always felt like the Catra Show, and so much so that even Hordak never felt like the main villain. And nothing drove that point home more than season five proving once and for all that this series moral line(or lack there of) is REALLY about a Villain Protagonist when the character that increasingly became a MONSTER for FOUR SEASONS still got everything she wanted in the end.    

Catra is the poster child for the moral bankruptcy of this series.  

I can't buy her ''redemption,'' or her relationship with Adora, because she WENT TO FAR.  

Therefore nor can I buy the HYPOCRITICAL mental gymnastics that arise when she is a topic of discussion in the fandom.  

For four seasons I watched this character WILLINGLY and GLEEFULLY jump rope with the moral event horizon. She eventually finally broke it to the pieces when she deliberately GENOCIDES everyone on the PLANET, because of her sick,evil obsession with being better than Adora.  

Loved all this time my behind.

Catra was a vile person from her introduction, and just got increasingly more poisonous as the show went on.  

Season Five wants us to treat Catra like a bad friend that said a few mean words here and there, and therefore all she has to do is sincerely apologize then friendship can begin again.  

Here's the thing Catra wasn't just a bad friend, but also an ABUSER and a FASCIST.  

She had multiple opportunities to leave the horde,and had no reason to stay in the first place, gleefully attacks the resistance, is the reason Angela died, tried straight up multiple times to end Adora’s and her friends lives, and was just an abomination to even the ones on her side....    

On the flip side we have Adora who doesn’t give a damn about Catra for four seasons. She’s too busy enjoying life with her REAL friends. Try and recall, was there ever a moment where Adora was...concerned for Catra’s safety? Pining for her in any way romantically? Ever? Even once during the first four? Because I don’t. Honestly Catra wasn’t important to Adora until Catra showed up on screen. And then they both wanted to kill each other. Any moments of Adora thinking about Catra it was in the context of Catra being her ENEMY.

But I'm supposed to believe in their romance based on what? 

Catra's toxicity? Adora's nonexistent romantic feelings for pretty much the entire series?    

In season 5 all Catra had to do was one act of atonement and out of nowhere, like Adora has been possessed by the ghost of Queer Rep, she suddenly can’t get Catra out of her head. Also note Catra didn't save Glimmer because she realized her past actions were evil; no it was all for Adora's sake i.e. the person she is toxically obsessed with.  

Back to Catra, her redemption is handled with the most condescending of kid gloves. It’s like she was replaced by a clone for season five. She’s just accepted. It's like seasons 1-4 didn't happen. The forgiveness was excessive and forced so we could be okay with this ABUSER / WAR CRIMINAL being chummy and romantic with her victims.

For example Glimmer cries over her, hugs her, kisses her cheek etc... Yet Catra is responsible for her MOTHER’S DEATH, the WORLD ENDING once before, trying to KILL her, war crimes against Bright Moon/HER KINGDOM...  

Then Entrapta also forgives Catra like it’s nothing even though she sent HER TO DIE, and apparently she was in this hell space for a YEAR.  

Same with Scorpia who forgives Catra's toxicity in five seconds.  

But everything is suppose to be wonderful because an ABUSER ends the series ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH HER VICTIM?

When Adora said you made your choice now live with it THAT should have been the end of any reconciliation either platonic of romantic.  

Even her flashbacks are her being abusive. You see her in one of them( in her so called redemption season at that) SCRATCHING Adora's FACE to the point it left BLOOD,and JUMPING ON HER STOMACH just because Adora DARED to be friends with other people.

This was pretty much every childhood flashback they showed.

She would emotionally and physically abuse Adora, and then Adora would take her back. 

This would continue even as near adults. It was a PATTERN(red flag) that Adora unfortunately didn't escape.  

But.....I always loved you,says Catra.  

For ADORA'S own mental health/closure she could forgive,but only if she also makes it clear that she doesn't want her abuser/war criminal ex friend back in her life.    

I could have tolerated that ending instead of Adora becoming a COUPLE with her ABUSER.  

Basically this villain sue ends the show getting everything she wants even after evil manipulation of several characters, genocide, war crimes against her own people, repeated attempts at murder,physical and mental abuse(especially toward Adora), and just being a complete psychopath to anyone within spitting distance of her toxicity.

She gets to be pretty much a abusive scum bucket for four seasons, on top of ACTUALLY DOING THE SAME THING PRIME WANTED TO DO, yet whiplash forgiveness and Lesbians 4 Evah is her ending.    

"So we're all just okay with this?", says Mermista incredulously of the war criminal Hordak. 

Good question,but then I remember you all seem to be okay with war criminal Catra who is pretty much Hordak's parallel soo ....  

Her mirror Hordak, according to the showrunner, is sentenced to beast island for his war crimes. However, my question then becomes where is Catra's sentence? Oh, that's right if you're the creator’s pet you get to be a war criminal in peace.    

It's also convenient that Mermista was chipped,and therefore didn't get to say anything to the girl who helped bring down her kingdom with a smile on her face.

Funny how that worked out.  

It's even more convenient that her victims gave their lighting fast forgiveness.  

Can't have icky things like abuse and war crimes get in the way of that ending smooch you know.  

I suppose we also just need to look at Angella as collateral damage while we smile as her daughter hugs and kisses her killer I guess.    

I also find it odd(since were loving abusers and war criminals) that Shadow Weaver point blank doesn't get forgiveness from Adora, and she even ends the series dead. However, she defected to the hero’s side in season two(regardless of any impure motivation), and stayed there and helped the protagonists until her season five death. But Catra, who not only stayed with the conquering organization the Horde for almost the entire series as well as eventually becoming their LEADER, was not only forgiven but also rewarded a romance with her victim. Curious.  

I'm tired of this abominable trope invading every piece of media. An antagonist crosses the moral event horizon, and some even break it to pieces, but somehow the story gets selective amnesia and thus they are free to join the protagonists with their numerous sick crimes ignored or a sob story is bsed into a justification onto why we should ignore physical and emotional abuse and/or the numerous bodies piled up.    

When you don't have a moral LINE in your narrative then that means you have already made a mockery out of morality and numerous victims.  

The only way I can stomach her season five ‘’redemption’’, and lighting quick forgiveness, is if I forget the monster of four seasons didn't exist. 

Problem is I can't do that.  

Why should I get any catharsis that the protagonists prevailed over Horde Prime when you have two characters in particular(Hordak,Catra) that are pretty much him with a sob story attached. If THEY get to kumbaya with the hero's then Prime should to because that's honestly where the morals are at in this story.    

I had to stop watching two shows(Vampire Diaries and Once Upon a Time) because I got tired of this sick trope. There were SEASONS worth of whitewashing and selective amnesia for two sick and evil characters(Damien Savatore and Regina), to the point their VICTIMS became their BIGGEST CHEERLEADERS and LOVE INTERESTS.  

There is no justice when this vile trope is in play.  

The moral event horizon exists for a reason. It means once a character has jumped over it then there should be no moral way they can come back from it. Humanizing them is a good narrative choice,but that humanization doesn't and SHOULDN'T erase their heinous crimes.  

Thus the only true ending that moral event horizon characters should get are redemption equals death or thanks for growing a conscious and helping us out, but you're STILL going to prison for life afterwards kay. They don't get to kumbaya with their victims while the other one's, THE DEAD BODIES, stay cold.  

But you know if I HAD to I COULD have TOLERATED Catra and Hordak going on an atonement journey so they could help the people still living that they made homeless/ lives they ruined. Also they can do this while they both get the therapy they badly need.  

I needed CONSEQUENCES that STUCK.  

Instead Catra (ADORA'S ABUSER) gets to make out with Adora(HER VICTIM), and also become her girlfriend. She also becomes the best friend of her other victims.  

So it seems this show's message is no matter how much emotional and physical pain a person does to you it's okay to not only let them back in your life(damn your mental health I guess),but it’s also fine to enter a romantic relationship with them as well.   

Yes, that's what children need to see.  

It's also hilarious that some of her fans say she's Zuko.

No.

She's what would happen if Azula and Kylo Ren were made into one character.

I did my research on the show runner, and the creators pet/villain sue bias became clearer. 

Catra is HER, and Adora is her wife.   

That explains EVERYTHING, and not in a good way.   

What the show's title should actually be called: 

She-Ra:The Story of a Villain Sue Antagonist,War Criminal Abuser,That Gets a Happily Ever After With Her Victim; Whom She Emotionally and Physically Abused for Four Seasons.    

Another alternate: 

She-Ra: The Story of Lesbian Reylo.

[spookyold-saintjm]

Pieces of You - Part 3

Mayor Damien x reader

| Part One |  | Part Two |

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of death

Word Count: 1,750

Series Summary: Damien is your world, and you are his light. One night, just shy of the long-awaited evening on which he’s planned to ask for your hand in marriage, he goes out for a poker night reunion with old friends at the Markiplier manor. He doesn’t come back.

a/n: Damien isn’t REALLY in this one because...well, you know. But there’s a cute little bit in there to make up for the pain. A couple more parts left to this one so stay tuned! Comment or message me if you’d like to be added to the tag list. x

—

Damien was missing.

The morning following the party, you woke up to find Damien’s half of the bed still cold. You had expected as much, though, knowing that he would wait to sleep off whatever he’d drank that night before attempting to come home. You didn’t think much of it as you went about your day, running a couple errands before coming home to relax and read for the remainder of your day off.

  When the late afternoon rolled around, you began to wonder where he might be. Perhaps the boys had decided on spending the day together at the manor, as well? You looked up Mark’s number in Damien’s contact book, but there was no answer when you called. None the second or third time, either.

You began to get worried. Night had begun to fall, and still no sign of him. You were temped to try to head out to the manor yourself to check in on them, but you didn’t want to pry. That, and a tug somewhere deep in the back of your mind told you that it was the wrong decision to make. You went to bed alone again that night, after another call, but you didn’t fall asleep.

When the light of the next morning disturbed you from the small phase of rest you had finally fallen into, you were alone again. And now, you were concerned. You showed up to work with your eyelids heavy and shoulders tight, almost frantic in your requests for the situation to be addressed immediately.

It turned out, Mark himself had also gone missing, as well as those staffed at the manor. The DA and the detective, too. Even the Colonel. Everyone who had been at the party that night had disappeared without a trace. Everyone went straight to work in the hunt for them, but there wasn’t much to go on.

You weren’t the biggest fan of Damien’s sister, Celine. Your relationship had always been a bit tense, at best. You knew that most of your disagreements stemmed for her deep love for her twin brother, her desire to protect him; nevertheless, despite your hesitancies toward each other, you tolerated one  another for Damien’s sake.

She was perhaps the last hope in finding out what had happened, if her abilities were to be believed, so you gave her a call. When she didn’t answer, you drove out to confront her, face-to-face.

She wasn’t home. And you had the creeping suspicion that she hadn’t been for some time.

Gone. They were all just…gone.

And you were left to pick up the pieces.

—

Your eyelids were heavy as you sifted through ever-growing piles of paperwork at your desk. With the absence of the DA, positions had changed, work had been redistributed, and you were busier than ever. Not that you minded. The extra work was a distraction, a reason to spend a couple extra hours in your office instead of spending yet another long night at home alone.

Friends had reached out, of course; a couple of your closest had let you know there was always an open bed or couch at their place on the nights that sleeping in your house alone was too much. You had yet to take any of them up on their offer.

Coworkers, too, and those who worked with Damien had all tried their best to band together in light of his, as well as the DA’s, absence. You acknowledged that you weren’t the only one hurting by the disappearances, that you couldn’t simply shut down and give up on the responsibilities now on your shoulders, that you needed to be there for others just as much as you needed them…

But Damien was gone. Damien. The man who had somehow wrestled his way into your heart, who had become your absolute everything. And, so far, there wasn’t a sign of him ever coming back.

A light knock at your door finally registered in your mind, and you slowly lifted your head and peered to see one of the young interns standing outside your door. You waved her in with a heavy hand, and the door opened with a soft click.

  “Afternoon.” She nodded her head slightly in greeting, her hands grasping a cream-colored folder. “How are you?”

It was a question you hated more than anything now, but you knew she meant well. “I’m just fine.” You reached a hand out toward her as she neared your desk, and muttered thanks as you took the folder from her.

“That’s good,” the girl answered, her voice slightly higher with the uncertainty peeking through her voice. She gestured toward the file that you now held in your hands. “I hope this is what you were looking for.” 

You flicked through the papers contained inside the file with an affirming nod. “Yes, this will be helpful.” You looked back up to the girl, an intern who had been with the DA’s office for a little over a year now. She was one of the top of her class and in her final year of university, which meant she only had a few more weeks left in the office. You felt a pang of guilt that you had just remembered the fact; these last couple months, you’d hardly spoken to her at all, and you had realized how quiet she’d grown around you.

You nodded with a forced smile. “Thank you.” 

She reached to straighten her glasses on one side, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks and her eyes shifting down toward your desk as she somewhat stuttered through her next words. “I, um…I know there’s really nothing that I can do to help…but I just, wanted you to know—”

“I know.” You politely stopped her, laying down the file and laying a hand flat across your desk. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

It was always like this. No one quite knew what to say. Your relationship with Damien was no secret; he couldn’t have kept quiet about it if he tried. Your friendships with the DA and the detective were well-known in the office, as well, and to lose them all at once had been more than you’d thought you could handle. 

Somehow, you were still hanging on, taking things a day at a time. Only because you held on to the hope that someday, they would come back. One day Damien would come home. 

He had to.

—

“What do you think of this one?”

Damien stepped out from behind the door of the private fitting room in the back of the shop, revealing the deep blue suit jacket and pants he’d chosen to try on next, his crisp white shirt underneath. He was still straightening the lapels of the jacket as he emerged, eagerly anticipating your thoughts.

You fanned yourself, only half-jokingly. “Why, Mayor. You’re looking exceptionally handsome.” 

Damien couldn’t have hidden the sudden rush of faintest pink to his cheeks even if he’d tried. After all this time, you still made him feel as flushed with overwhelming affection as you had when you’d first, and finally, agreed to date him.

“You said that about the last two,” he replied with a teasing roll of his eyes, an effort to recover himself as he turned toward the mirror that occupied one entire wall in the room. “This dinner is a big deal, you know.” 

You stepped over, throwing your arms around his middle and lightly resting your head on his shoulder as you looked into the mirror with him. “Well, I meant it all three times. But I think this is the one.” 

Damien’s uncertain smile widened to match yours, knowing you were right. “Alright then.” 

He turned to press a light kiss to the top of your head. “But I still won’t come anywhere close to looking as stunning as you, my love.”

You smiled down at the photo you’d used as a bookmark for ages; a Polaroid picture of you and Damien, in the very suit you’d picked out for him, standing at the foot of a spiral staircase at some event you couldn’t even recall the purpose of. But you could remember the Friday night itself as if it were just last week.

And yet another Friday night had come. 

Some others in the office had invited you to come out for some drinks; the week had been long and loaded down with work, and everyone was in need of a much-deserved break. You politely declined, instead insisting you just needed go home and rest your eyes for a while.

Besides, if you were going to drink, you could drink at home just fine.

You were well into a bottle of wine, curled up on your couch in the living room as you blankly stared at the mindless sitcom playing on your tv. It had originally only been background noise for you as you prepared to dive back into a novel you’d been trying to finish for weeks, but it wasn’t lock before your eyes were crossing and the words became hazy, both from the alcohol in your system and the seemingly never-ending weight of exhaustion that pulled you down deeper underneath the bundle of blankets you’d thrown over yourself. 

You had leaned forward to the coffee table in front of you, preparing to pour yourself another glass of the dark liquid you heard the distinct rumble of a car engine just outside the house. You froze as you listened, then quickly sat down the bottle and threw the blankets off of your body when the sound abruptly stopped. Someone was out there.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, didn’t want to assume, but your heart was regardless beating almost faster than your body could keep up with as you scrambled toward the door, barefoot and hair disheveled with the distinct red eyes of someone who had been crying, looking an absolute mess…

But however you must have appeared, the man at your door looked at least twice as rough. 

You could hardly choke out his name.

“Abe?”

You had a hundred, a thousand questions. But you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word further, bile suddenly thick and burning in your throat.

Where’s Damien. Where is he. 

The detective sniffed, his eyes wired and pleading as he took off his hat and slowly wrung it between his hands as you stared numbly back at him. 

“We need to talk.”

-

tag list (open!): @aheistwithyaboi​ @dapper-comedy​ @pandacookieowo​ @jennabonenna​​ @nightfuryobsessed​​ @a-okay-rj​​ @shaydeevee33​​ @bothersome-bitch​

[imlovethomassanders]

Destined - Chapter 1

You can also read on ao3

This work is complete, and new chapters will be added everday until completion:

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: Damien never wanted soulmates. When his fifteenth birthday came, he prayed he wouldn't receive a "hint" - a way soulmates are connected to help find each other. And to Damien's horror, the universe gives him multiple soulmates. He's determined to not let them find out about them. He wants to let them live in ignorant bliss and not force them to deal with him. As Damien grows older, he moves away and goes to college - He even manages to find a boyfriend that he chose himself, and Damien tells himself that he's happy. But on Damien's twentieth birthday, the universe gives him and his soulmates another hint - and this one is not one Damien can avoid.

Pairing: DLAMP

Warnings:Abusive romantic relationship (physically, sexually, and verbally), past physical parental abuse, sex and alcohol mentions,  general angst (but happy ending)

Words: 4136

Tag list:

@touchstarvedvirgil

@lamp-calm-sanders

@ninjago2020

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@secret-novelisthost18

@phander-sides

@sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet

​

Damien woke up and slowly sat up, wincing when he put pressure on his wrist. He looked down and frowned at the dark bruises forming. He looked over at the perpetrator who was lying right next to him.

What was more unsettling than the bruises was the writing underneath them. God, what Damien wouldn't give to be rid of the writing.

Damien smiled at his boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully as Damien brushed a strand of hair from his face. Damien then stretched his arms before standing to show before classes.

The writing was from his soulmates. And no, his boyfriend wasn't one of them. It should have made him feel guilty, dating someone who wasn't his soulmate. But it didn't.

The writing was his first hint to for finding his soulmates. One received their first hint at fifteen, and being able to see what one's soulmate wrote on their skin was the most common hint. It allowed them to communicate with their soulmate, but there were limits. To encourage them meeting more naturally, information like location or full names wouldn't show up for the other person.

As Damien turned on the hot water, he thought back to the night before his fifteenth birthday and how terrified he had been.

He had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours - trying to fall asleep but sleep refusing to come.

He didn't want a soulmate. He wanted nothing to do with whoever the universe decided to pair him up with. He was fine in his solitude and preferred it stayed that way.

Painfully, time slowly crawled on. Damien eventually admitted he wasn't going to sleep. He glanced at the clock and winced when he read it was two minutes till twelve. So for two agonizing minutes, Damien watched the clock.

The clock struck twelve, and Damien held his breath and waited.

Nothing.

But that didn't help calm Damien's nerves. His soulmate could be asleep. Or maybe he was older than his soulmate and he would have to wait months or years until his soulmate could write back.

He couldn't be certain about his soulmate or lack thereof for a long time.

But with nothing he could do now, exhaustion finally washed over him and he fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Damien grimaced as his alarm blared for school. He hit the snooze button and promised himself "only five more minutes" (it was never just five minutes).

But that's when he noticed an unfamiliar tingling sensation on his arm. He held up his right arm and opened his eyes, and he swore his heart stopped.

Damien had been hoping he was part of the small percentage that didn't have a soulmate, but it turns out he was part of the even smaller percentage to have more than one.

He stared in horror as he watched large, bubbly, light blue handwriting converse with a small, precise, navy handwriting on his right arm.

He didn't go to school that day. He faked sick, and the paleness of his face was enough to trick his foster parents into believing him.

As he watched the writing travel farther down his arm, he almost felt that he was intruding. But he couldn't tear his eyes away. The light blue writing, who referred to themself as P, seemed so kind while L, the navy, seemed so grounded and secure.

Damien hated it.

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be forced into a life with these strangers. He didn't want to force anyone else to deal with him. But he was scared he didn't have a choice.

The thought made him so upset he barely made it to the bathroom before actually getting sick. After it passed, he sat against the wall for a moment before breaking down in tears.

This was too much. Why would the universe make him endure something so painful?

Then and there was when he Damien decided he would do his best to make sure his soulmates never knew he existed. Let them live in ignorant bliss. They'd be better off without him. And the fact that he had two soulmates made the decision easier. They had each other, so he wouldn't be forcing someone to live without a soulmate. They could live their lives happily together.

Damien was extra careful to never mark on his skin. He even went so far as to no longer put on makeup or nail polish. That part was painful. Makeup was his passion, and he been wanting to go to school to practice it. So he convinced his foster sister to let him practice on her sometimes, though those times were few and far between. But beggers couldn't be choosers.

Damien snapped back into the present by his boyfriend banging on the bathroom door and yelling at him to hurry up. Damien yelled back that he'd be out soon.

Jackson was a first. It was a miracle Jackson even tolerated him.

Jackson had approached Damien in one of their classes, and Damien was immediately smitten. No one had taken interest in him before.

Jackson took Damien out that night and Damien swore there was an instant connection.

Jackson didn't have a soulmate and he had assumed Damien didn't either when he accepted Jackson's invitation to go out. Damien hesitantly told him he did, but he wanted nothing to do with them. Jackson was angry at first, but eventually calmed down.

It was generally frowned upon to date someone else when you had a soulmate, but Damien liked Jackson. He got to choose Jackson.

As Damien continued to get ready for classes, he tried to push the thoughts of his soulmates aside. But with his twentieth birthday tomorrow, he couldn't stop worrying. As time goes on without one meeting their soulmate, they will sometimes receive another hint on one of their birthdays. The amount of hints one gets and the time between receiving them depends on the people and when they are destined to meet. Hints will get more and more drastic as the universe grows more and more desparate for them to meet. Once they meet, however, all but the first hint they received will disappear.

Damien didn't know his soulmate's birthdays, but he wasn't worried about getting a hint on their birthdays. They had actually been communicating with each other, so they probably weren't the unviverse's concern.

He was.

Since Damien refused to even acknowledge his soulmates, he was at high risk for a new hint.

Damien knew this. Jackson knew this. They both ignored it.

Damien kissed Jackson goodbye before leaving for school. They didn't leave too far from campus, so Damien usually didn't bother spending money on bus fare.

Damien felt the familiar tingle on his wrist and he pulled his sleeve further down his arm. He always wore long sleeves and pants, even when the heat was unbearable. He didn't want to look at the writing. He didn't want anyone else to see.

But before he covered his wrist, Damien got a glimpse of red handwriting.

Around seven months after Damien's fifteenth birthday, he woke up to the familiar tingling on his arm. P had found out when L woke up and was adamant to wake up before them to write a good morning message everyday. Damien rarely ever read what L and P said to each other, but that morning something caught his eye.

There on his wrist was 'Hello! Am I lucky enough to be able to talk to my soulmate?' in large, messy, red cursive.

"No," Damien had thought. "This can't be happening."

He had three???

'Hello!'  P wrote back.

'It's so wonderful to finally be able to talk to you.'  the red ink wrote. 'I've been waiting for this for so long.'

'Oh my gosh this is incredible!! L, we have another soulmate!!!'

'I see that.'  L wrote. 'This is most unexpected.'

'Am I really so lucky to have two soulmates?'  the red ink wrote.

‘It seems so.’ L replied.

'Since we can't say our names, we refer to each other by the first letter. I'm P and the other is L!'

'I'm R, then. I can't express how ecstatic I am to meet you both.'

Damien yanked his pajama sleeve back down. WHile he could still feel the tingling go further down his arm, it was easier to ignore when he couldn't see it.

He fell back onto his bed, stared at the ceiling, pushed his pillow into his face, and screamed.

Since then it had been even harder tohide the markings on his body. P would doodle on the palms of their hand and R would write out long monologues on one arm while L solved math problems on the other.

The worst was when R and L would start debating and writing would cover every inch of skin they could find until P made them find a middle ground.

Damien snapped himself back to the present as he walked into his biology class. He already hated bio, so no need to make it worse by sulking over his soulmates.

The morning went by slowly and regularly. Afternoon came and Damien texted Jackson to see if he wanted to meet for lunch. Jackson texted back saying he was out with friends but he'd see him tonight.

That was fine. Damien was glad Jackson had such good friends. He just wished this didn't happen so often.

As Damien ate his lunch he noticed that P and the purple writing were drawing on their hands again. Damien rolled his eyes and quickly finished eating before fishing his gloves out of his backpack.

Damien had to buy gloves after the purple handwriting showed up as they loved to doodle on their hands, and P would often join in and make Damien's hands a mess of purple and light blue.

A little more than four months after R made their first appearance, Damien was awake taking off layers and layers of makeup. He had stayed up late (again) to practice.

A couple of weeks ago R said they had to put on a lot of theatrical makeup for a play, and was wondering if it showed up on the others. When L and P confirmed that none did, Damien was ecstatic. He immediately pushed himself away from the dinner table and went up to his bedroom (he was lucky this foster family didn't make him share a room with his foster siblings) to experiment with his makeup again.

Damien glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one in the morning. He wasn't too concerned, though, since it was summer and he could sleep in as long as he wanted.

Once the clock hit one he felt tingling on his arm again. The others were rarely awake this late, so curiousity got the better of him and he glanced down to see what on earth they had to say.

'Hello?'

Damien stopped breathing. That wasn't P. Or L. Or R. This was new handwriting. Tiny but tall letters in purple ink.

Two soulmates was a rarity. Three was unheard of. So what the fuck was he doing with four???

Damien's eyes bored into the mirror as he removed the remaining makeup off his face. He quickly brushed his teeth and changed into pajamas before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Damien woke up late the next morning, but he still felt exhausted. He glanced down at his arms and found them both covered in writing. Damien just knew the rest of his body was covered, and to confirm it felt tingling on his left shin.

He showed with his eyes closed, desperate to avoid looking anymore at the cacophony of foreign handwriting on his skin. But when he opened his eyes to get out, he couldn't ignore the text just covering his body. Smothering him. Yelling at him.

Damien ran into the bedroom and threw clothes on while still soaking wet.

He didn't want to see anything from the purple handwriting. He knew too much about the other strangers already. He didn't want to know anything about this new person. He didn't even want a letter to refer to them by.

Though ignoring the text got harder with four people writing, Damien got good at it, just as the others had gotten good at fitting blocks of text together like tetris pieces.

Back in the present, Damien was getting sick of flashbacks.

When Damien's school day had ended and he was back at the apartment, he sent Jackson a selfie to let him know he was home. Jackson was so protective, he didn't like Damien going anywhere without his permission. One of the ways Jackson proved he loved him.

Not that Damien had any real reference, though.

His mother was abusive and neglectful and his father was never around. He was barraged everyday by words telling him how much of a burden he was. How everything would be easier if he wasn't around. After his mother beat him she'd scream how weak and worthless he was.

School was never any better. He was immediately an outcast. Having very visible vitiligo on his face weirded out the younger kids who didn't know better.

As they got older and his classmates understood what vitiligo was, the damage had already been done. Any second changes his classmates would give him quickly disappeared. He was too mean, too vicious. He was quick to start fights and slow to forgive.

Attempts were made to counsel him and try to find the root of his behavioral problems, but his mother promised him that if he dared snitch about his homelife, he wouldn't see tomorrow.

So counseling attempts were made in vain. He was labelled a problem child and that day forward his teachers were given warnings whenever they were stuck with him in their class.

Child protective services finally took him away in middle school when Damien went to school with bruises around his neck after his mom tried to strangle him in a drunken rage. He was passed from foster family to foster family, never lasting long in one house. He wouldn't get along with his foster siblings. He disobeyed his caretakers. His foster parents didn't knw what to do when he'd wake up screaming, begging for his mom to let go of him. He was too mean. Too troubled. Too distrusting.

By high school he had finally mellowed out, but the damage was irreversible. He understood that he was on his own and it was detrimental to trust anyone too easily. But since he calmed down, he was finally left alone from counselors and teachers. And to everyone's surprise, he managed to excel in his classes, even managing to get a scholarship to a school that let him study theatrical makeup. Even better was that it was out of state, meaning he would never have to see any of the people he grew up with again.

Damien hadn't expected to fall in love, but then he met Jackson. Jackson was the first person to love him. And with him, Damien thought he couldn't be happier.

Damien started to feel a bit anxious as he waited for Jackson to get home. He wanted to ask about his birthday, and either Jackson would agree to spend the weekend with him, or he'd go and get boozed up with friends, leaving Damien to deal with the fallout.

But it was his birthday. Surely Jackson wouldn't leave him alone.

Jackson came home later than expected. He was doing that a lot these days.

"Hi, babe," Damien said as he greeted him at the door. He smiled as Jackson pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey yourself," Jackson muttered against Damien's lips.

They separated for a moment but Jackson pulled Damien right back. Damien's mouth twitched in a small smile.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" Damien asked as Jackson led him back to their shared bedroom.

"Yeah," Jackson replied. "Me and a couple guys are going out of town."

Damien's heart cracked in his chest as he tried to figure out what to say.

"Well, my birthday is this Sunday," Damien said slowly. "I was hoping we could spend it together."

Damien knew that Jackson would usually get angry when he tried to contradict his plans, but he took this chance since there was no way Jackson could get angry about Damien's birthday without coming off as a huge jerk.

"Shit, Damien," Jackson sighed. "I completely forgot."

That didn't bother Damien. Not at all.

"I can't cancel on the guys, but I promise I'll make it up to you," Jackson said as he pulled Damien in for a kiss. "I'll make it up to you every night," he muttered as he moved his lips to Damien's neck.

Damien shuttered. Sex with Damien was rough. Jackson took what he wanted without making sure Damien was okay and that he wanted it as well. He focused on pleasuring only himself, sometimes leaving Damien to finish himself off.

While Damien had a slight sense that this wasn't okay, he ignored it. What did he know? He didn't have experience with this. And he liked feeling needed. He liked feeling wanted.

He ignored the small voice that told him he was just being used.

"Okay," Damien said as Jackson let go of him.

When Damien woke up the next morning, Jackson was gone. He briefly entertained the idea of going out himself, but he knew that Jackson would want regular upates from him along with photos of him by the clock.

So Damien tried to have a lazy day. He made breakfast then watched beauty guru drama on YouTube. He ordered takeout for lunch and ordered extra so he wouldn't have to cook dinner. He practiced makeup again and gave himself a manicure. He went through these tasks trying to act like everything was fine, but inside he was panicking. His panic only grew throughout the day as the hours crawled closer to midnight.

Come eleven that night, Damien was a mess. He paced around his bedroom, trying not to pick at his newly manicured nails. He wanted to call Jackson but knew he would just be mad if he interrupted his night out.

His mind raced about what hints he could get. Ideally he wouldn't get one, but the chances of him not getting hints grew smaller as the years went on. If he had to get one, he hoped it was something similar to the one he had now. One that would be easy to avoid, though he doubed the universe would be so merciful.

Over the last five years, Damien had read up on as many hints as he could find. Feeling each other’s pain would be hard, but not completely undoable. Occasionally feeling each other’s emotions is one he couldn’t avoid. Initials on your wrist, or any tattoo hint, would be dead giveaways. Being able to see and talk to each other in dreams would be the worst, but that’s a last resort one. Surely that wouldn’t happen to him (yet).

The hour before midnight went by too slowly and too quickly at the same time. When midnight finally came he froze and waited. He waited until it was ten past twelve. While there was nothing immediate, that didn’t mean he was off the hook. The hint could still be there, they just hadn’t triggered it yet.

Damien sighed as he turned onto his stomach. He was about to go to sleep when suddenly he knew what his new hint was.

Oh, god, no! He shouldn't be getting this drastic of a hint so soon!

Damien had read about this hint, but it was so rare he didn't even consider it a possibility. This hint allows one to see through their soulmate's eyes for a few moments up to a few minutes. But the universe was always careful, only letting people see moments it thought they needed to see, so they didn't have to worry about their soulmate seeing something embarrassing or pointless.

One was always alerted before the hint was triggered, allowing them to sit down and prepare themself. But it also alerted the person they would be observing, meaning whoever Damien was about to see through was going to know they had another soulmate.

Damien grit his teeth as the world went white. Suddenly he wasn't in his room anymore. He was lying in a bed that wasn't his bed. It was dark, and whoever he was looking through had someone asleep on their right with an arm wrapped around their waist.

The person took a shaky breath.

"Hello," the stranger whispered. There was a moment of silence as someone next to them shifted. They looked over and Damien could see that there was not just on person in bed with them, but three.

The stranger made sure the others were still asleep before carefully getting out of bed. They made their way out the door and quietly shut it behind them. They stumbled in the dark towards the living rom and sat down on the end of the couch, flipping on the table lamp to bask the room in a faint yellow glow.

"My name is Patton," the person whispered as they pulled their legs up onto the couch. "I'm one of your soulmates. It must be your birthday. Happy birthday."

Patton looked down at his lap and started tracing the pattern on his pajama pants.

"I never would have thought I'd have a fourth soulmate," Patton whispered. "But I'm happy."

"You've never written to us. We had no idea you existed."

"That was the point," Damien thought.

"But that's okay. I know about you now."

Damien grit his teeth. Patton shouldn't be so nice about this. Patton needed to be angry! Patton needed to hate him! It would make this whole thing easier if he did.

"I don't understand why you've never written back," Patton whispered as his finger moved down his pants leg. "But I want you to know I'm not angry. I'm confused, and admittedly a bit overwhelmed, but I'm not angry. I want you to know you're safe with us. I don't know what situation you're in, or what you're thinking right now, but you're safe here."

Damien gripped the sheets as he tried to fight back the tears welling in his eyes.

"I wish I knew your name. Do you think after this you could try to write it to me? Maybe since we have a second hint it will let me see your name. You don't have to, but it'd be nice."

Damien knew he woudn't.

"I hope you're not in trouble," Patton sniffled. That's when tears fell and Patton went to wipe his eyes. "I wish I knew how to help you."

Patton took another shaky breath before continuing. "This might sound crazy to you, but I already really care about you. I cared about the others as soon as they first wrote to me. And now I care about you, too."

They both were alerted in their minds that their time "together" would soon be over. Patton sighed.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to tell them. I think it's important they know. But don't worry. I'm sure they'll be as excited as I am. I hope you decide to write to us soon, and I'm looking forward to the next time we get to talk."

Then Damien was back in his bedroom.

He immediately started crying. He grabbed Jackson's pillow and pulled it to his face as his crying turned into messy sobs.

They know. After years of carefully making sure they didn't know about him, he was outed not even by his own choice.

He couldn't breath. He pushed Jackson's pillow away from him and forced himself to sit up. He knew he was having a panic attack. He'd had them before. He just didn't know how to stop it.

He gripped the sheets and tried to force himself to breathe normally, but between the tears still falling down his face and his rapid heartbeat he couldn't get himself to do so.

After a few agonizing minutes, he was finally able to take in a fairly deep breath. After that, breathing just got easier and easier. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall freely as he got his breathing back to normal.

Once his crying devolved into silent tears, Damien laid back down. Exhaustion hit him as he settled under the blankets, desperate for sleep.

He felt tingling on the back of his hand and looked to see that Patton had drawn a heart in his familiar light blue ink.

Damien didn't take his eyes off it until he fell asleep.

(That was chapter 1! Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 is scheduled to be posted tomorrow, Jan 8 2020)

[bottleofspilledink]

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter IV

"Listen up, girls!" Sister Lydia said, smacking her ruler on the blackboard to draw everyone's attention.

A few students visibly cringed at the noise, faces scrunching up in distaste. Eve never quite understand why that was. If anything, the sound of the wood against the board would snap her mind back to the lesson instead of letting her mind float off for the rest of the subject.

"Today will mark the beginning of the new system we've put in place" She tapped the ruler against her palm as she paced around the board.

"Your next period will be dedicated to assigning you your partner and your new schedule which will be effective this coming Monday."

A low whisper rang through the class, some excited, others... not quite. Though they were quickly hushed by another hit of the ruler.

"Now, a few ground rules before you find out who you got assigned to. This is system was made to keep you and your partner from sin. You are to build trust, camaraderie, and friendship, yes, however first and foremost, you are there to keep each other out of trouble.

"You are to guard one another and report any wrong doing you see them commit and any rule they break. This may seem like a cruel thing to do, subjecting your friend to scolding and disciplinary measures, but what you need to understand is that it's all for your own good.

"Do you understand this?"

"Yes, Sister Dolores." The girls spoke in a machine-like unison, voices indistinguishable from one another. The habit had been drilled into them after nearly four years of studying here.

How long it would take them to unlearn that was what Eve pondered as they all lined up and left, silent and eagerly nervous to meet their new partner.

Her amber eyes scanned every girl carefully. By now, Mary had told her who had ended up with who, and nothing would surprise her.

Tabitha was paired with Esther, she remembered as the girl wondered aloud who she got. Eve could only imagine how careless the nuns were when picking partners for the girls who weren't suspected of arson.

Esther had put a wad of gum into Tabitha's hairbrush while they were in the locker room, leading to the girl sobbing her eyes out as the hair she'd grown out for three years was reduced to a pixie cut.

It was stated in the handbook that girls were to have their hair meet their shoulders and we're not to have it any shorter. Though the nuns had to make an exception due to the rather delicate situation.

She could only hope that Tabitha would graduate with some hair left.

Susanna was paired with Rachel, which Eve thought explained the upset look on her face as she exited the nun's office with her new schedule.

Susanna had stolen Rachel's boyfriend the year prior. In response, Rachel destroyed her bag, as well as all the books and homework in it, making her flunk four subjects that semester and ultimately making her lose her scholarship.

The relationship didn't even last six months.

"Eve Peccator." A Sister called from the door, her voice wavering and her hands shaking with the weight of the years and the wooden clipboard.

How long has she been here?

How long has it been since she dedicated herself to God?

How long has it been since she lived for her and her alone?

She shook the thoughts from her head and entered the office, prepared to hear news that was no longer news to her.

"Eve, dear, have a seat." Mother Cecelia said, the cup of tea she held in her hands removed from her lips to reveal a saccharine smile. A smile with a tad bit of extra teeth that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Now, I'm sure you know what you're here for," she pulled down her reading glasses from where they rested on her habit and opened a folder on her table, "so let's cut to the chase, yes?"

Eve nodded curtly.

Mother Cecilia, from what Eve knew, was a kind yet strict woman who had no tolerance or capacity for lies and deceit.

"Alright then, dear. You'll be paired with Lilith Damien. We've created a schedule for the both of you to follow, effective on Monday. Is that clear?"

Eve nodded again, the soft curls of her golden hair swaying ever so faintly as she did so.

"Good. Well, you've already been informed of this but I'll repeat it for the sake of clarity, but if Lilith is to admit to or does or even plans to do anything wrong, you are required to report it to us, no matter how small or long ago this wrongdoing seems to be." She closed the folder in her hands and slid it over to the girl.

Eve took it, but remained seated, bug-eyed and expectant of the other to say more, particularly awaiting for the woman to mention that they were using her to catch the perpetrator of the kitchen fire.

"Well? Do you have any questions? If not, then you may leave inform Sister Priscilla to send in the next girl."

But nothing came.

"Of course. Thank you for your time, Mother Cecilia."

She couldn't quite understand at the time what she felt at that moment, being used as a means to an end without her supposed knowledge, but she would later come to recognize that the feeling that tugged at her heart and nagged at her mind was that of her faith in the people who ran the school shattering into infinitesimal fragments she wouldn't be able to piece together if her very soul depend on it.

...

"Well?" Elizabeth asked the moment she sat down for lunch.

"Well, what?"

The brunette let out a huff, clearly exasperated. "Well, do we share any classes?"

Her neatly manicured hand waved her folder in the girl's face to drive the point home.

"Oh yeah." Eve pulled the papers out of her bag, passing them over without so much as a second glance. Her mind had yet to fully comprehend the lie by omission that Mother Cecilia had told her earlier.

Was she not a woman of faith?

Was she not the same woman who had so often chided others for lying?

There had to be something in her vows that prohibited lying, right?

Her thoughts were put to an end by Elizabeth's excited squeal.

"Oh thank God! We share English and chemistry at least." She tossed the papers back to her friend. "Me and Mary don't have a single class together!"

"Are there even enough classes for that to be possible?"

"Right?" Elizabeth slumped onto the table, miserable. As fun as she could be, she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and would often cheat off her cousin, Mary.

Cheating was explicitly stated as grounds for expulsion on the fifth page of the student handbook, but really, who cared about that when they were failing math?

"At least we share lunchtime. You're on your own there."

"Wait, really?" Her mind had been too occupied to even check the schedule after what had happened and she had neglected to check the papers altogether.

"Yeah! Didn't you check mine?" Eve's eyes flicked over to the unopened folder that she only now realized had been placed in front of her.

"Sorry, Liz..." She put her juice down, sighing. "I've just been distracted today."

"Today?" Elizabeth said in disbelief.

"You're distracted all the time!"

"Is that anything new for Eve?" Mary chimed in as she arrived, immaculately shaped brow raised.

"But it's a different distracted now! It wasn't this bad before."

"Is there something you're not telling us, Eve?" Mary teased.

"No way! I tell you guys everything."

"Do you?" The girl pressed on, brow raising even more.

"Oh! I know what you're hiding!" Elizabeth chirped, giggling as she scooted over to whisper to Eve.

"You have a boyfriend!"

The blonde nearly spit out her drink.

"I do not have a boyfriend."

"I don't know..." said Mary. "That violent reaction says otherwise."

The two girls cackled and sang childish rhymes about trees and kissing, and marriage and baby carriages, as their friend groaned, flushing up to the tips of her ears in embarrassment.

"I promise, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Prove it!" Elizabeth leaned on Eve, effectively pressing her body to the table in an attempt to crack the girl.

"Think about it for a sec, Liz." The hardness of the metal was digging into her, the flimsy fabric of her uniform not doing much to cushion her from the dull ache of it as it bit into her skin. "If I had a boyfriend, why would I try to hide it from you?"

"We're friends, so I don't need to worry about you guys ratting me out or stealing him."

Mary put her spoon down, humming. "She has a point."

"Hey!" Elizabeth was off her in an instant. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm just here for the show." She chuckled once more. "Besides, as student council president, I can't take sides. It would be very diplomatic of me."

"Oh, c'mon! Can't you make an exception for your favourite cousin?"

"Who said you were my favourite cousin?"

"I'm your only cousin!"

"Are you?"

As they fought amongst themselves, she couldn't help but let her thoughts go astray.

"Oh God," Eve thought to herself, "if they find out..."

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

There was nothing for them to find out.

There was nothing that made her different from them.

There was nothing for her to worry about.

Not yet.

______________________________________________

Taglist: @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity

(Holy shit, I've got a taglist now!!)

[eoleolhan-a]

I am STILL on my MonProm bullshit bc I’m grinding through Monster Camp so let’s do some more headcanons! This time it’s gonna be Jin’s opinions on the some of the more prominent characters from the two games, and what I think their relationships (platonic or otherwise) could be like. Obviously these are just my opinions, anyone who has any of these muses is free to disagree, ofc. I won’t include player characters (yet, maybe once Reverse comes out I will update) since the PC personality is kind of fluid to interpretation and change based on the player. There are spoilers for both Monster Prom and Monster Camp regarding main and side characters.

This is in alphabetical order just to make it easy to navigate.

Aaravi

He doesn’t trust her, straight up. She’s a monster slayer with a history of targeting demons and even with her therapy and growth in Monster Camp he’s wary. He’s worried she would turn on him and try to slay him too. He steers clear when possible but could learn to trust her if he could see her progress with monsterkind more directly.

Batniss

He really doesn’t know what she’s talking about most of the time. The main character thing is weird to him, but at least she’s interesting. He respects her combat skills and her archery prowess.

Calculester

He thinks Cal is cute, in the way someone thinks a puppy is cute. He’s just so clueless sometimes it’s endearing, like watching a baby giraffe take its first steps. On the other hand, though, something about this sentient computer robot is a bit uncanny. Since Cal is generally so nice, though, he tries not to let the whole “potential robot uprising/singularity” thing bother him.

Dahlia

He has absolutely no interest in being anywhere near Dahlia because of her reputation as a warmonger. He thinks she’s dangerous and doesn’t want to risk being the one who gives her the idea to try and invade the 2nd Circle. He absolutely doesn’t trust her, and is honestly a bit afraid of her. If he were able to give her a chance (ie probably forced to do school or camp things with her, or if they had mutual friends for some reason) he could grow to appreciate her determination and at times enjoy her exuberant personality. She has the capability to grow on him if given the chance.

Damien

Similar to Dahlia, he distrusts Damien. He knows of the LaVeys, and as mentioned in my big ol 2nd Circle/Cubi lore post sees their whole “we made love popular” reputation as a bit unearned (because I’m sorta canon divergent, but see that post for the details of that). He also doesn’t want anyone from the 8th Circle’s royal family to get anywhere near the 2nd Circle lest they try to take that over, too. He would also probably resent having to go to school or camp with a prince from Hell juuuust a bit, especially since Damien is considered one of the coolest/most well known students/campers. He would be envious of Damien’s wealth and status since that’s something he lacks, which colours Jin’s perception of him. He doesn’t know about Damien’s softer side, so he sees him as abrasive, dangerous, and annoying. Like Dahlia, if he were to give him a chance though he’d grow to like him, especially his fondness for hairstyling and makeup since Jin enjoys the latter (and being fashionable in general). He does, however, reluctantly admit that Damien is indeed hot even if he is an annoying LaVey baby.

Dmitri

Jin doesn’t really know Dmitri but he knows of him. He doesn’t really care about whatever the Coven is doing, but hey at least Dmitri is a hot vampire who never seems to wear a shirt. He doesn’t mind seeing him hanging around because he’s easy on the eyes. Jin would probably find his dramatic villain monologuing and cape swishing a bit funny.

Faith

Out of the Coven members he would probably like Faith the most. She seems pretty relaxed and chill, and he would respect her intelligence and skill as a witch. In general he appreciates the Coven’s colour scheme and fashion sense, though.

Hex

He thinks Hex is straight up irritating but if he was high then he’d probably like their company more.

Hope

His feelings towards Hope are similar to Faith. He isn’t all that bothered with their Coven shenanigans but does respect them. He would be confused by all of the Hope reincarnations but he doesn’t have much of a problem with her. She seems nice enough.

Interdimensional Prince

Although he can be kind of weird at times (maybe even a bit creepy) Jin has to admit the idea of being whisked off to another dimension by some handsome anime-alien-looking prince is kind of appealing. He would like the attention and ego-boost it would cause if the Prince ever flirted with him.

Joy

Jin would enjoy her company. They’d probably get along, but he does find her “main character saving the world” thing to be a bit Intense at times. Despite that he think’s she’s smart and cool and likes being around her, especially given how wild some of their classmates/campmates can be.

Kale

They smoke weed together and vibe. That’s all. 10/10.

Leonard

Jin wants to kick him in the face so hard that he flies into the sun. -10/10.

Liam

Usually he likes Liam and likes being around him. He appreciates his creativity and sense of taste, but sometimes Liam can be a bit pretentious and annoying. That’s fairly manageable though, and sometimes he’s quite the breath of fresh air compared to some of the more exuberant characters he encounters. Jin would especially enjoy indulging in fancy, rare artsy gourmet food so Liam could take pictures of it and he could eat it.

Milo

Out of everyone, Jin is fondest of Milo. Their sense of style, taste (wine and cheese platters? yes please), flirtatious streak (and not to mention good looks) would have Jin swooning. He would also find their personality a lot more calm in comparison to some of the other monsters at camp. The only annoyance would be Milo’s constant attachment to their phone and their somewhat self-centred nature. It takes attention away from Jin, after all. Competing egos.

Miranda

Jin likes Miranda most of the time. Sometimes he thinks her royal merfolk ways are a bit confusing, and he is a bit distrustful of foreign royalty in general but less so of Miranda; he doesn’t see any reason why the Merkingdom would attack the Cubi or really have much to do with them at all, but he knows that royal life can be vicious. He does find it interesting to hear about the culture and society of the Merkingdom, though. He also appreciates her manners and poise. Plus, they’re both pink so he’s a bit biased in that regard. Sometimes he does find the more murderous aspects of the Merkingdom a bit unsightly, and it can be a little frustrating at times trying to explain commoner things to her. He doesn’t like that he would sometimes feel a bit condescended or spoken down to by her, but sometimes this has more to do with his perception than anything she would be saying or doing.

Morty

He likes looking at Morty but his personality is a bit too self absorbed and intense even for Jin. Still, he appreciates the confidence and the sex positive energy. Sexual tension always makes rivalries better so Morty is a perfect candidate for Camp Rival Camp in Jin’s opinion and his presence is at least entertaining and engaging. Also he quite likes the heart-hole shorts, a bold fashion statement.

Polly

Polly is fun to be around. She can be boisterous, but at least she knows how to have a good time. Jin also likes that she isn’t bloodthirsty or a war criminal or something, so in theory they could just hang out like normal monsters/people. It doesn’t hurt that she can get good drugs, too. 

Scott

Scott is a himbo, Jin likes himbos. Case closed. In all seriousness, he would find Scott endearing because of his good nature and cheerful personality. Sometimes his airheaded antics can be a bit annoying, but he knows Scott means well. Jin thinks Scott would be a good friend because he seems honest, loyal, and kind. Those are also qualities that would make him a good date, plus he’s a big cute wolfman who Jin wants to pet in more ways than one.

Valerie

He respects the hustle and the on campus hook-up for all sorts of oddities. Plus she’s Vera’s sister, and he has mostly positive feelings about her so by relation he thinks Valerie is pretty alright. Also soft because cat.

Vera

Vera is intimidating but he respects her, in a sense. As someone who isn’t affluent he’s more wary of her scams and often disapproves if he thinks it’s taking advantage of vulnerable people, but so long as she’s scamming rich people he’s down for it. He definitely thinks she’s smart and an interest conversationalist.

Wolfpack

Bad, stinky, 0/10. Only tolerable because of their connection to Scott but otherwise obnoxious.

Zoe

Last but not least, Jin would like Zoe. He’d appreciate her creativity and particularly her ship fics. They would have a good time talking about crushes, who should date who, and the latest books in their respective favourite series (or perhaps shared shows or books). She also tells Leonard to shove it and since he wants to punt the kappa into the sun he likes that a lot.

[kinsbin]

Cooking Lessons [SI/Canon - Platonic/Familial]

Title: Cooking Lessons Pairing: Xena[Batmom]/Damien Wayne [Platonic/Familial Self Insert/Canon] Rating: G Word Count: 1865

Summary: Damien and Xena have a relationship of mutual respect, and that’s usually about as good as it gets. A bonding moment between the two of them, however, leads to some surprising confessions from the youngest of the Bat Family. 

A/N: So anyways Damien Wayne is my son and this is literally just a pice where he calls me mom for the first tIME

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The night at the Wayne Manor was quiet, the only sound a soft echo of a television set having been left on in a room somewhere further in the darkened halls of the ever-expanding home. Xena leaned on the granite counter of the kitchen island and took a long sip of her whiskey, exhaling through her nose as she tapped the edge of the fine crystal tumbler she had placed the beverage in. Bruce Wayne’s grandiose manor never failed to amaze her, no matter how long she had found herself a resident among its halls. 

Bruce was out on business. By business, of course, it was Batman stuff, as it always seemed to be this late into the night. The mission was a small one apparently, nothing he and Jason (with Dick as backup) could’t handle on their own. That left herself, Tim, and Damien to spend time in the manor together. The thought of being left alone with the two boys left Xena uneasy for most the night, causing her to seek solace in a small drink alone as the boys spared down in the batcave, as their normal routine seemed to place them into doing.

The boys had been suspicious of her, as they had a right to be. With their father’s history in women, to be regarded with such sharpness was nothing unexpected that was for certain. It was Dick who accepted her first, followed swiftly by Jason and then, lastly, by Tim. The three elder members of the bat family seemed to find her well suited to Bruce and sweet enough that they let their guard down around her long enough to confess that they appreciated the change she had made in the older man’s life. Xena could only smile with appreciation at the generosity they gave her when it came to the so called ‘power’ she had over Bruce Wayne.

But then, oh, but then... there was Damien. 

Considering what history she could gather from Bruce and the others, it was no surprise he was taking the longest. She didn’t feel like it was right to rush him in his ‘acceptance’ of her either, if she could call it that. It had gone from him detesting her to, at best now, tolerating her existence and behaving neatly around her when Bruce was in the same room. Alone was even more awkward, sure, but he maintained cordiality. 

Though he was young he was smart. Xena never felt the urge to look down at him when they talked, her words flowing natural as they would with any adult conversation. It was in one of those conversations, something about the development of multi-media industries and their basis on socioeconomic culture amongst Gotham elitists, that he had actually referred to her by her name and not simply ‘Miss Imperial’ or ‘woman’. The words were shocking enough to nearly send her fumbling with her statements as she tried ot hide a smile, which in turn brought a blush of annoyance to Damien’s cheeks.

It was small, she supposed, but it was progress. It was what she was grateful for.

Xena wondered now, though, if the situation in the night was going to be too much for them both. There was a mutual understanding now of treading carefully among one another, taking time to plan out situations and discussions as they met. Bruce insisted she didn’t have to be so careful with Damien, but Xena argued that it wasn’t ‘careful’ so much as it was ‘respectful’. She had known the annoyance of being a child and not being taken seriously by adults. She had seen the resulting trauma that could grow from such behaviors and vowed never to treat a child like something so delicate and breakable, or like a pet to be trained. They were human. Damien was human.

A very tiny, sometimes intimidating human.

Footsteps brought her from her thoughts and she could feel her back tense at the sight of the very boy she had been thinking of. 

Damien froze in the kitchen doorway as well, his eyes wide as he watched her back. Neither had been prepared to run into one another in the kitchen, clearly, and the suddenness of their proximity created an air about the both of them that wasn’t necessarily awkward as it was unsure. New and distinct in its presence as they were given time with one another and no on else.

It was... different.

“Hey,” Xena finally piped after another slow sip of her drink, “Did you and Tim wrap up training?”

“Yes,” Came Damien’s curt reply as he walked further into the kitchen, “I was just going to get something to eat before retiring for the evening.”

She smiled despite herself, his proper demeanor never ceasing to fascinate her as she put her beverage down and sighed, stretching a little.

“I can make you something.” She offered.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Miss Xena.”

“It’s no trouble,” She smiled, “I was about to make some food for myself anyways. No reason I can’t make a little extra. Chicken and rice sound okay to you?”

There was a hesitance in his form before slowly, surely, he gave a nod of approval. With a smile back at him, Xena turned to the kitchen to begin preparing the food she had planned on making anyways, taking out fresh jasmine rice alongside some herbs and digging through the kitchen for broccoli and chicken with a hum to her lips. As she gathered and prepared the food that was soon laid before her, Damien found himself sitting comfortably upon the bar stool of the island, leaning his chin in the palm of a hand as he watched the woman work in silence.

“Why are you so happy?” His question was sharp, even though it didn’t mean to be, but Xena was unphased.

“I like cooking. I’ve always have a bit more fun doing it for others.”

“It’s tedious.Having servants to do it for me was far more useful.”

“Which is why you don’t know how to cook anything.”

“I can cook!”

“Cereal and toasting things don’t count.”

Damien blushed and looked away with a frustrated huff and Xena laughed as she chopped up the chicken and set out pots to start boiling water for both the rice and broccoli, dipping the chicken in seasonings as the bite sized chunks formed on the plate before her. 

Xena finished chopping and set a few different food items aside as she looked over at Damien with a tilt of her head and a thoughtful pause. It ended as she finally spoke with a curious hesitance in her tone that made Damien perk upwards to listen to her more:

“Would you like to learn how to cook this? I can show you now.”

There was a long, thoughtful pause and, for a moment, Xena was afraid she had overstepped their boundaries. Her pushing may have been the sharp wedge that removed them both from their once comfortable spot in respecting one another. Perhaps she had put the relationship of her and the youngest wayne family member in jeopardy?  Her heart beat loud in her ears as she tried to swallow casually.

“... Very well, show me.”

When Damien spoke those words she couldn’t help the sight of relief alongside the twitch of a smile against her mouth as she gave a nod.

“Go wash your hands first before you touch any food.”

“My hands are perfectly-”

“Damien.”

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

---

Damien wasn’t as patient with cooking as he was with other things. He grew frustrated when he couldn’t cut the broccoli pieces evenly enough and nearly threw the knife across the room when a splash of boiling water hit his hand as he dumped half of the rice down in one swift movement. Xena could only stifle her laughs at his struggles and talk him through each movement with patience as she showed him the proper way to hold a knife and helped run his hand under cold water until the burning of the previous boil had ceased.

By the end of it, though, they had a meal. A real meal that looked edible and carefully crafted: piles of rice topped with broccoli and chunks of chicken, sprinkled with soy sauce and sesame seeds for added flavor. The dishes steamed with an enticing array of smells to them that had both members of the chef team drooling with anticipation.

“Now for the best part,” Xena grinned at Damien as she handed him a fork, “Eating what you make.”

Damien stared down at his food, wincing curiously at it before slowly bringing a portion to his mouth. He chewed with a careful cadence, judging both the meal and himself in the singular bite he had taken from it. Xena watched as she scooped a bite into her spoon and chewed carefully, her eyes widening and her smile spreading across her lips in delight as she chewed with renewed vigor. 

“It’s edible.” Damien observed in near disbelief in himself.

“Edible? It’s delicious!” Xena beamed with excitement, “You did really well Damien! I’m so proud of you!”

The words fell from her lips with delight and genuine pride. So much so that Damien felt a sense of his own pride welling deep in his chest. It bubbled fitfully under the surface as he bit back a smile through another bite of the food he made with her help. 

His words, though, fell without a filter. They fell without his permission:

“Thank-you, Mother.”

The silence now was thick as Xena stopped mid-bite of her food and stared down at the boy to her side with shock in her eyes. Damien, in return, felt his own eyes widen and a bright red streak of embarrassment coat his face in a vehement shade. He choked on what rice he did manage to keep in his mouth as he leaned forward and coughed.

Xena’s hand touched him hesitantly, rubbing his back to ease the rice out of his mouth. Damien’s shoulders tensed at the feeling and he sat up shortly after he stopped coughing. Grabbing his food, he made any and all effort to run from the kitchen. Xena watched him speed off with surprise.

“Damien, w-wait!” She called, reaching out for him, but by the time she stuttered out his name he was gone. Swiftly returning to his room and hiding away as the words of his mistakes echoed in the halls he ran through. 

He had... called her mother.

It was unintentional but so, so genuine that Xena felt her heart rise with an ecstatic delight that likes of which she had never felt before. Her lips curled into an excited smile as she rolled on the balls of her feet and tried not to giggle in delight as she sat on the bar stool Damien was previously occupying and ate the rest of her meal.

She would talk with him about it later. The poor boy, without a doubt, had a lot to think about in that moment.

All she could think about was how she couldn’t wait to tell Bruce when he got home. 

[lostcybertronian]

Darkstache Week- Day 2

Prompt: Past and present

Warnings for implied PTSD

@projectdarkstache

---

The Fourth of July was a momentous event at the Manor. Mark’s parties were always spectacular, but he really went all out when it came to the Fourth of July.

And this year would prove to be the greatest yet, Damien thought, feeling a shiver of excitement as his car pulled up the Manor’s drive. William was home for the first time in two years, and that was cause for celebration. He had been quiet, though, since his return. It was unlike him; but Damien assumed that the horrors of war could change any man.

Mark, however, insisted that William merely needed a good party. A good party, some good booze, and some good women.

And he must have decided some fireworks were in order as well, because as Damien’s driver let him out of the car a streak of light shot up into the darkening sky, lingering there for a moment before it exploded with a deafening boom.

A second later there was another. And another. And another, until the sky was filled with colors and noise and the grounds outside were flooded with partygoers, whooping and cheering them on.

William didn’t seem to be among them. Damien caught no glimpses of his friend amidst the sea of drunken faces as he made his way toward the door, nor did he hear familiar booming laughter echoing out over the crowds.

    The Manor’s front door was propped wide open, allowing Damien to walk right in, his cane tapping over perfectly polished tile- that Benjamin must have spent hours on- that gleamed under multicolored party lights.

    There were still many people inside, though most had gone out to watch the fireworks. Damien weaved in between women wearing festive flapper dresses and the men who held their arms, all the while keeping an eye out for William.

    He half expected to find him by the bar, already half-seas over and wooing some choice bit of calico, but instead he found Celine, nursing a glass of red wine.

    “Damien!” She chirped, her black-painted lips pulling into a sloppy smile. Clearly, she had had too much to drink. “I thought you’d never arrive. What kept you?”

    “Just some work,” Damien replied casually. Then, “have you seen Will? I thought he was supposed to be here tonight. He is the guest of honor, after all.”

    “I think he went upstairs.” Celine flicked her fingers dismissively. “Party pooper.”

    “Alright. I’ll go check for him there.” Damien started toward the stairs, then paused. “Take it easy, Celine. Don’t overdo it.”

    She giggled. “You worry too much.”

    The Mayor shrugged, then headed upstairs.

---

    He found William in his room, perched in an armchair that had been shoved up against the wall and holding a mug half-filled with whiskey, though he made no move to drink from it. He was pale, but still he gave Damien a grin when he eased open the door.

    “Celine told me I would find you here.” Damien crossed the room. His footsteps creaked over the decades-old wooden floor. As he spoke, there was another boom. More fireworks. “Why did you leave the party?”

    “I was feeling rather tired,” William offered, “I’ve been busy, you know.”

    Damien frowned. “Before you went off to war you loved to party, no matter how ‘busy’ you were.”

    William opened his mouth to answer but there was another boom. He flinched, fingers tightening around the handle of his mug. His eyes darted toward the window, then back to Damien.

    It dawned on him all of a sudden. He’d read about men who came back from the front-lines traumatized, and some of them were completely unable to tolerate loud noises.

    “The fireworks.” Damien murmured, staring down at him. “I can go down there, have Mark stop-”

    “No!” William lurched out of his seat, nearly spilling his drink and startling Damien into taking a step back. A moment later he paused, seeming to force his composure back into place. He set the mug down onto the nightstand beside his bed. “No. No. There’s no need for that. I-”

    The window lit up and there was a noise that shook the Manor to its foundations. William jerked, hands flying toward the pistol he always kept tucked into a holster at his side, face panicked and eyes somewhere far away.

    “Will.” Damien grabbed his hands before he could pull his gun, dropping his cane to the floor with a clatter. “It’s alright! It’s alright.”

    “My apologies,” the Colonel stammered, sounding shaken. He squeezed Damien’s hands tightly, as if his touch were the only thing keeping him there, in the present. Muttered, “they sound like gunshots.”

    “There is no need to be sorry.” Damien pulled him close. Held him there. “It’s okay.”

    “Stay with me?” William’s voice sounded small and afraid. So unlike him. The William Damien knew was large and bold and afraid of nothing.

    Damien nodded, feeling a pang of sadness in his chest. “Of course I will.”

---

    Everyone was setting off fireworks outside. It was a foolish endeavor, for a foolish holiday.

    Why was he so shaken?

    Dark shuddered as another explosion shook the windowpanes, and retreated further back into the shadows of the kitchen. Every flash of light, every deafening noise, set his teeth on edge and grated on his ears and on his nerves. Memories floundered at the fringes of his mind. Memories that weren’t even his.

    Suddenly, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Wilford barged in, clutching a fistful of unlit sparklers and wearing a wide grin.

    “Ya gotta come out and join us, Darkie!” He said, coming over and all but shoving them in Dark’s face. “Quit bein’ cooped up in here all by your lonesome.”

    “I’d rather not, Wil.” Dark cringed away from the sparklers and started toward the living room, a look of distaste crossing his face. “Leave me alone.”

    “Aw,” Wilford whined, following him like a lost puppy. “What’s the matter, Darkie? Don’t like fireworks?”

    Dark scowled, and opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the crashing rumble of yet another firework being set off outside. He couldn’t repress a flinch, couldn’t banish the ringing of gunshots in his ears as he fell back, back, back over the balcony.

    But then Wilford’s hand was in his, dragging him back to the present. Dark glanced over to see him drop the sparklers to the floor.

    “What are you doing, Wilford?” He asked.   

    “Well,” Wilford said, puffing out his chest. “I’m not about t’letcha stay here all by yourself. You’ll get lonely.”

    “I assure you-”

    “Nonsense!” Wilford insisted, raising Dark’s hand to his lips. “I won’t letcha be alone.”

    Dark heaved a sigh, even as, inwardly, he felt a flicker of relief. “As you wish.”

[incubae-fics]

First Impressions [Aomaris] [AU!]

Pairing: AU!Sam [Aomaris] x Female!Reader [3rd Person] [Reader is given a job n stuff for better descriptions]

Warnings: idk angst??

A/N: idk wtf this is but YEET. have some AU angst. I was gonna go with angst into fluff but here we are at 1 am thanks im sorry im lame, find the au on my blog bc tumblr killed links

Sam couldn’t believe she was someone he’d sworn to protect- someone he had to protect, because he was asked by a man who’d granted him about everything he’d wished for.

He wasn’t entirely sure why she was worth protecting. She was normal- completely human. She knew no magic, did nothing special, worked some regular job. She wasn’t.. important. Yet, to that man, she was. So he had no choice- hell, at first, he didn’t even know who she was. He just knew she was moving into the place he had to crash in. That she came with a best friend, and was buzzing with energy right at the moment he needed it. So he took it- and then she proceeded to clock him right in the jaw once her senses came to her.

It was a miracle that she wasn’t thrown into the nearest wall.

In his world, she’d be dead- but also, in his world, he wouldn’t need to take that type of energy from her. He’d have had her angry already, and would take that.

He wasn’t in his world though, and no matter how powerful he could be there, he was glad he wasn’t there. That he was free, and his brothers were too, even if it meant dealing with her.

Her snark was the worst- she pushed simply because she could, at least he thought so. In reality, it was because she had to have him know that she was no pushover. She wasn’t playing his games, and she refused to be verbally and mentally attacked in her own home. She didn’t want him to think he could get away with harassing and belittling her.

Names flew here and there, daggers and venom attached to each set. Hers pierced and seeped into crevices he wasn’t aware he had. However, his made gashes that would leave more permanent scars- scars that would come back to bite him later down the line.

His first impression of her was far from good- and if anyone had told him where he’d end up in regards to her, he’d have laughed in their faces.

Demons don’t love- they don’t know the feeling or the meaning. It’s not in their nature. It’s especially not for him. Not after what he’s been through- not after what he’s been forced to do and live through.

She was harsh and mean and angry. She was just bitter, not bittersweet- yet she broke into him. Somehow, their relationship morphed from violent words and screaming matches to.. comfortable banter. To hanging out and playing video games- to him catching glimpses of the soft side she hid. Damien had told him about it, and he refused to believe it, but then he saw it himself. Some of her walls came down, and he saw the incredibly soft person she was deep down.

It captivated him- made him curious.. made him.. yearn. Yearn for something he did not deserve. Something he wasn’t allowed to have- especially not with all he’s said to her in the beginning.

“Ha, I’m not his type, so a girl like me wouldn’t be a good example.”, she’d said once, after Damien had made some out of the blue suggestion. Sam couldn’t remember what it was, he just knew what she said.

“Do I really look like a boy with this haircut?”, she’d asked Damien, sniffling. She had gotten a bad haircut, and at the time, Sam had found it fit to joke around. Now though, the memory of the way she teared up tore at his very soul. Her eyes were so bright, but not with the happiness he’d grown to see and adore. It was with embarrassment, and reflected in them was his cruel laughing face.

“You’re such a fucking jerk.”, she’d had said in response to his joke, “No wonder everyone wanted to fight you- you’re just some mindless rage monster.”

The last sentence came out in a venomous hiss. It was weird, though, how the venom in them didn’t start to do anything to him until much later. Until he was feeling these things- having dreams that ended up as nightmares. Ones where she screamed how she could never love some monster. Where she told him how disgusting it was that he even liked her in that way. How he deserved to rot in the demon world- alone.

The venom in that sentence seeped into his very core, because he was awful to her. Monstrous and cruel, emotionally and he of all people knows the emotional scars last longer than the physical. Both hurt and scar- but the emotional continuously opens up. It doesn’t matter how much or how well you stitch it all up. It always reopens.

Some were opening now, as he watched her laugh with some guy he’d never met before. Some normal human guy at her job- some guy who hadn’t called her names or told her she looked like a boy. A guy that wasn’t him.

A guy he had no right to ask about- a guy he couldn’t ask her to stop talking to so he could drive her back home.

A guy that could take her from her home- or force him out of it. When Sam first met her, he couldn’t wait for her to get out of his hair- but now? He’d give anything for her to stay with him- forever, willingly. He’d never force her. He’d never make her stay or force him to allow him and his brothers to stay with her forever.

They’d all have to move out someday- and he hated the very thought.

She smiled in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen.

“Who was that?”, he asks casually as he pulls out.

She just shakes her head, “A co-worker, not that you really care. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

Her voice is light and playful, but it stings him painfully. He’d wait an eternity for her-

“Aw, c’mon. I care.”, he says, masking his hurt.

“Sam, you’ve called this place a shithole with shit people.”

He sighs, “That was.. before.”

She gives a small laugh, and he hates how his heart picks up, “Before what?”

“Before..”, he struggles to say what he really wants to say- but some lingering fear stops him,��“Before I learned to tolerate you.”

“Ohh, wow. How kind of you.”, she rolls her eyes, and he swears he sees something in them- some hurt.. but then, of course he would. It’s just about all he’s ever seen, only now, it hurts him too. 

“You know I’m joking.”

“Do I?”, she says, like always, but he’s unaware she really means it. She really wonders if he’s joking- she can’t tell anymore. She isn’t sure if the initial hate is gone- but she doesn’t want to acknowledge why she even cares.

He’s a demon. He can’t feel even a fraction of what she feels, and he made that clear plenty of times without even having to say it. Without her even having to hint at a damn thing.

“I think you do.”, he replies, giving her a small grin.

“I don’t.”, is her response, and this one is bitter and bothered. It makes him glance at her, but she stares out the windshield, forcing her eyes to remain calm and clear. This realization hits a few times a week. It leaves her upset and hurt and confused. Often angry as well.

How could she not be? She’s feeling for someone who can’t give her one nice compliment. Can’t notice when she’s dressed up purposely for him- notice her when she wants him to. She can’t teach him to love- and how awful is it that... he’s the only one she does love, and she can’t change it. The feelings won’t leave- he gives her hope and then.. it’s gone.

She breaks the tense silence with a harsh “Good night.”, and then leaves him alone in his car. When she’s out of sight, he slams his hands on his steering wheel, denting it only slightly.

“DAMMIT!”, he screams to no one, “Why are you like this?!”, he hisses, damning himself for his ways.

“That’s because you’re just infatuated. You don’t love her, and she’ll never love you. Move on.”, James had told him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Damien.

“Don’t listen to-”, Damien began, but James wouldn’t have it.

“You know one half of my sentence is absolutely true-”

“It isn’t-”

“Damien. It won’t happen. You know this, don’t you?”

Damien suddenly goes quiet, something dark flashing in his eyes. It makes Sam oddly nervous, until he speaks, “That was low and just like him.”

James looked visibly shocked and hurt, but he remained silent. The conversation just dropped. Damien left him with, “Do whatever you want. It’s obvious you won’t listen to me.”

Infatuation? Was that what this was?

As her laughter rings from the kitchen, and a sad smile pulls across his lips, he knows it’s not. As he watches her and continues to yearn for her, he knows it’s more. He doesn’t just crave the things all incubi crave when it comes to her. He craves for more.

That more, will absolutely be the death of him.

“She’ll never love you..”

He’s aware, James.. He’s aware..

[iloveshippingkitty]

Russian Roulette - A WKM Missing Scene Fanfic

Summary: The Colonel and the Detective aren’t the only ones who play Russian Roulette when the drinks start flowing. And someone’s calling it a double or nothing. So what are the stakes?

(as implied by the game it is a heavy fic - warnings in the read more for those who require and I can assure you it’s not like warning - immediate subject underneath - partially cos that’s shoddy tension building and/or world building - - The fic starts at the ‘-’)

Warnings: Death, Violent Death, Blood, Guns, Possession - Murder or Suicide? Or Both?, Russian Roulette, Acting against will?

Do Not Read If You Are Easily Disturbed or Triggered by Any Of These. I wouldn’t blame you so from here on out proceed at own caution.

-

The Colonel looked about the room. It was wonderful, just as it had always been. God, did he need a drink. The waiter – the nervous bumblebee that he was – rushed straight up to offer him a drink. He was very thankful and mumbled his thanks as he grabbed two glasses and drank one immediately and set it back down on the silver plate. He really wasn’t sure why he had come, it wasn’t like everything could be fixed with Markiplier. While the Colonel used his alias to be closer, Markiplier did it to distance, although after everything that had happened maybe the Colonel didn’t blame him for that at least. His eyes caught Damien and he remembered exactly why he had come.

Damien had so been looking forward to it. He had begged the Colonel to accept the invite as soon as Celine had let slip that he had received one. It had completely isolated Damien to be without his two truest friends and had come to a truce regarding him a while before. For who was he to step in the way of the wants of his sister. So both agreed to treat Damien the same but avoid the subject of each other. It had done greatness for Damien and he had become The Mayor. While The Colonel and Markiplier fought the one thing that they agreed upon was that was a role he was designed for. He was a peacekeeper – a kind, honest, respected and respectable man. Many towns wouldn’t have needed that, this town however needed nothing more.

The Mayor shot him a smile. How he liked calling him that. His brother-in-law, The Mayor.

He watched Markiplier give the speech and downed his drink during the end. He didn’t really want to listen to Mark’s inane ramblings when he looked and sounded so ‘la-di-dah’. Fame had got to Mark and it was what had drove Celine from him – if he could only see it. He sneaked around to the kitchen and quickly lifted a bottle of bubbly from there. The chef was quick to notice it but had let it slip for ‘Old Times Sake’. He took sips straight from the bottle. Ah, that was a lot better. Mark encouraged them to get wasted.

At one point the attorney looked at Mark’s drink and back at Mark as the Colonel noted.

“I’ve had more than a few myself, young friend. Dutch courage don’t you know. I will be drinking much more presently once you have all caught up.” He replied with an elegance he always put on at parties. The Colonel rolled his eyes and took a large swig from the bottle in his hand. Mark in response only smiled and raised his glass before grabbing an hors d'oeuvre and eating it. The district attorney gave a smile that seemed genuine and for once The Colonel remembered he was here for amends by himself and for whatever reason Mark had invited him. Tonight was an outreaching hand and The Colonel was determined to grab it. He had been in the army long enough to know a foolish decision and ignoring the man he had grown up on an important night of his life was one such foolish decision. Instead with a genuine half smile and nodded at the attorney and Mark both. Both seem pleased by this.

The room seemed to spin and time seemed to zoom past as he got more drunk and in the blink of an eye they were in a betting room with a poker table. They had been keen players all 3 of them in their youth and was the only practice they had brought with them through time, although they all played separately now. Some things just hadn’t been the same without the trio. He drank away the pain that ebbed into that thought and picked up his cards and prepared for everyone to take their turn.

With almost a full bottle down – when did that happen? He swore he had half… With almost a full bottle down he realised it had been a while he drank at this pace, the house was the weird thing it always was and this detective was exceedingly good at cards. Which was ironic because he didn’t consider him an exceedingly good detective. One more thing, that the district attorney definitely did not have as high a tolerance as them. It seemed sober they may be good at cards but still feeling awkward about the whole situation he had resolved to leave with the dawn and head back to his beautiful wife and throw himself at her mercy for being away for so long. She’d probably laugh, he hoped so, he loved that laugh. He had been distracted so had been surprised when Mark went all in. He held in the urge to give him a stern talking to and resolved to fold and go to the toilets. He didn’t remember going or in fact coming back but knew he had been inside the toilets as he got back. In his short change the district attorney, with help from the butler was currently winning. They looked like they were enjoying themselves and he liked that but the smug look made him want to wipe the floor with them. He would do just that.

Between endless drinks and merging games he had begun to win, lose and was nearly on equal turf again. Such began the keg stand, the beer pong, the drunk card games and importantly Russian Roulette. His favourite game. For a long time after the war he would play with anyone that came along. The detective downed his shot and insisted, the room blurred and for once everything made sense whether he questioned it or not which meant he really must be incredibly drunk. Off it span and a shot fired, blank. He knew it was blank before the trigger came fully back, he just knew. Then he aimed at himself and did the same, it was very quick and he practically giggled as he heard the trigger. Damien threw a card at him and pointedly rolled his eyes, “Oi, you. Take it outside if we’re playing extreme sports.”

Time passed on like a spinning roulette wheel and sometime around 1 am the DA had a shot and hit the floor like a tonne of bricks. Though barely standing himself Damien insisted on helping them to bed then joining one more game and heading to his own room, almost tripping down the hall. The chef took his leave at night to go have drinks with old George and bring him his dinner and the butler took the time while their attention was elsewhere to head off himself to bed before they harassed him more. After almost half an hour the detective insisted on going to find the butler but both Markiplier and The Colonel found him asleep on the stairs on the second floor barely 10 steps away from his own designated room. They both grabbed him and - like they did when they were kids with whoever out the trio fell asleep first – flung him onto the bed. It wasn’t until now that The Colonel noted that for the last while he had actually been getting on with Markiplier. It was almost like old times. However, with how absolutely plastered he was he barely took notice. Markiplier however was as well-bred sophisticated as he was earlier in the night. The Colonel almost mentioned it but if he was going to be honest with himself he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“What now, Markiplier?” He slurred.

“I have some brandy old George used to have. The one we used to try and nick as kids. Want some, Colonel?”

“That’s what my friends call me. It’s Mr Barnhum to anyone else.” He mumbled but nodded all the same.

They headed downstairs and Mark had a hold of his elbow as The Colonel swayed. He replied, “This night is to even the score, the playing field if you will. We’re about to crack open the one thing we never got away with as kids, I hope you’ll find it in you to let the bridge begin to build with being called Colonel.”

“Fine, Markiplier.” He chuckled dryly, “Markiplier and Colonel now.. How we’ve grown.”

Markiplier’s laugh seemed genuine but something had been off about him for a while now. He’d been too stubborn at first and now he barely had the sobriety to stand solitary. The house blurred around them and he saw the stone wall of the stairs to the cellar as he got down. It had a funny habit of happening that, The Colonel chuckled at it and Markiplier gave him a questioning look to which The Colonel only laughed harder. They sat on the table and began sipping the strong brandy.

After half an hour or half a day, The Colonel wasn’t sure or didn’t care Mark suggested a game. The bottle was surprisingly full for 2 people drinking it but The Colonel didn’t notice and didn’t question.

“What?””

“A game to put all this behind us. It’d be so cool, come on, Colonel. Go on.”

“Fine, you’re playing to my humour, old boy, so I’ll humour you. What game?”

“Russain Roulette. Just like you and the detective played.” Markiplier seemed positively giddy, not taking the bottle this time.

In response, The Colonel laughed. A great hearty laugh then sipped another bit of brandy, “No. Dear boy, no.”

“Why?”

“For one, how are we to trust that the game isn’t rigged?”

“Rigged?”

“Yeah, Markiplier. How are you to trust me and how am I to trust you, not to make sure that the bullets going straight for that barrel?” He laughed again.

“Get this. For mine, you spin, then I spin. So then the person whose turn it is, can be sure they haven’t been cheated and they can be watched by the other player to assure they aren’t cheating… Foolproof.” He smiled, victoriously.

“Bully! The downside there is I won’t do it.” The Colonel rolled his eyes and took a sip again.

“Come on, we used to be brothers in arms Colonel. We grew together, we owe each other something but there’s a lot of anger. This way we get it out.”

He made a point… maybe. Maybe he had drunk too much…

“What are the rules then? How is this to make amends? What are the playing stakes?”

“Rules are spin each and immediate shot. One each and never again. This is the only of George’s brandy I ever bought so it should be fair the game is played only once too. Consider the odds as double or nothing. Double means one of us will be dead and the other a killer and must make amends with the family for everything they couldn’t for each other. Nothing means that everything, I mean everything, must be forgiven. Everything from our past must be erased if the shot is empty.”

There had been a lot behind them. Both sounded like intense things and truth be told The Colonel often felt guilty for falling for his foster-sibling’s spouse and the other things he had done so while he had his own anger from their years just after they had been brothers-in-arms he didn’t have to feel so crap about himself. This was an escape though. In one shot either him and Markiplier would be on level ground again or it wouldn’t be his problem anymore. Markiplier would do the same and the trio could be together. He didn’t think about Markiplier’s shot. Anyone with a higher understanding of the mansion would have known that he didn’t think of it because the house didn’t want him to think of that. After a few more sips each he agreed. The deep, intense want to be forgiven by the boy he grew up with and to find the will to do the same on the flip of a game was too hard to pass up.

Colonel put down his gun on the table and they sat at either end, in their seats, finally.

The gun and the brandy sat in the middle of the table and Markiplier added a penny to the middle line.

“Flip?”

It was Colonel first. He took a good swig as he watched Markiplier place it in and spin it in and locked it in. They swapped the gun and the brandy and Colonel span it and locked it in and placed it straight to his head. Forgiveness or not his problem anymore his mind repeated any more. For once he couldn’t figure it out. He always had a feeling before he shot but now, gun to his temple… he couldn’t be sure. He clicked the safety off his revolver.

If it was the only barrel with a shot in he wouldn’t have a chance to say it later, “Mark.”

He gave a curt nod and pretended not to notice the importance addressing Mark by his name implied as his finger pressed on the trigger. A quiet click responded. Empty. Nothing. Mark however had the reaction he did when The Colonel first played it; ready for a heart attack. He took the barrel out and gave it a spin once again, locked it in and handed it to Mark who kept the bottle one last time to give a long gulp and a sigh before handing it over. Maybe had the Colonel been sober or Damien been there, maybe someone would have realised that that had been the first real drink, real swallow of liquid that night. Then again maybe not. He brought out the barrel and gave it a look a spin and as The Colonel drank, stopped it and locked it in. The Colonel put the drink down as Mark brought the gun up.

For the first time since suggesting it or in the whole night or even in fact… for the first time in a long time – Mark looked hesitant. He took the safety off.

“William.”

His word was barely a breath and there was something there that showed the Mark he was before. The one they were actually friends with, the one Celine had fallen for. Something had been wrong and different with Mark for longer than anyone had noticed. His voice for the first time that night, was his own.

William knew it as he looked at him and his eyes for a moment coloured red and blue. Just a moment but he saw it.  He was sure. As sure as he was that the moment the eyes coloured the old Mark was gone again and as sure as he was that that round was loaded. The new Mark smirked.

It was effectively sobering.

Many things happened in the 2 seconds that lasted an eternity. A voice in William’s brain shouted that Mark was too far gone, whatever had changed him forever now. At the same time he stood and clambered over the table to push the gun out the way. The bottle broke. The colour of red and blue took over Mark momentarily. William pushed the gun… just not far enough. The shot rang in his ears. The smirk plastered permanently on Mark’s face. Blood was everywhere. The body slumped and William tried to scream. It must have been the shock because the scream stuck in his throat as if to strangle him. He hadn’t done this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. It was either him or reconciliation. Why hadn’t he thought of Mark? Now he had lost his brother-in-arms and the game. One was dead, one a killer. That’s what was said. His hand had been on Mark’s, from the handle to the trigger as he had pushed it back. He killed Mark. What was there to do now?

It felt like a nightmare and The Colonel wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t. What to do now was to clean the body and the gun, put him to bed and hope it was the nightmare it seemed.

As he finished cleaning he heard a voice in his head like Mark’s. Like new Mark’s.

“You nearly made me miss, nitwit.”

The laughter that ruptured from The Colonel was unstable and he turned back to pick him up and take him to bed. He’d barely took a few steps in the dark before he was at Mark’s bed. He placed him down and stood over him a moment before walking. Walking was good. He needed a walk. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Not for a long, long time. William wondered as he walked if you could go an eternity without sleep and just what it would do to you.

[sea-bea]

Celine’s influence on Dark, and why she’s more important than everyone thinks

So a lot of posts about Dark either show how Damien is portrayed in Dark, or how both Celine and Damien are portrayed in Dark, but there aren't a lot of posts how much of Celine is in Dark. Honestly, I don’t think people give her enough credit for her influence on Dark. In fact, Lots of people don’t fully understand how much of her is Dark; after all, he has Damien’s face. But Celine is so much of Dark. In fact, I think that more of Celine is Dark than Damien is. But how can we tell?

Mark said that it was the worst parts of both Damien and Celine’s (and maybe the weird house demon) personally that made up Dark’s personality. Dark is cordial, a leader, is temperamental when things don’t go his way, and is manipulative. Cordial can be explained by Damien, who always maintains a form of regality when working with others, but can also be tied to Celine, who (though not as much as her brother) maintains a certain type of ‘air’ around her that grabs people’s attention and keeps them on her side, which ties into her manipulative nature. 

While Dark’s ‘leadership’ personality can come from Damien, even Damien admits that he didn’t know how to act as a leader. Throughout WKM, Damien takes the sidelines, always running off to be by himself. The only times he takes control are when he’s with his sister, such as when he confronted her about using the Attorney, insisted on staying with her, and when he was in the upside down with her. Most of the time, the ones in charge are the Detective leading the investigation, the Colonel, who’s nature allows him lead himself and follow his own path, and Celine who from the moment she arrives seizes control of the entire investigation, gathers everyone together, manages to pit everyone against you, and only looses control after the detective starts questioning things. Even in the upside down she’s the one who comes up with the plan while Damien, your friend, just has to convince you.

Next is Dark’s temper. It’s not a surprise that both Damien and Celine have a temper, however, it’s only Celine’s temper that Mark connects with Damien. Once you analyze the scenes where Damien and Celine loose their temper, it makes sense. Damien is usually calm, but he bursts into anger whenever someone he cares or trusts is involved. The first time he gets angry is at Will when the latter doesn’t express concern for Mark, someone who Damien cares about. The second couple of times is concern for both Celine, Mark, and our lives, where he expresses how he doesn't want to lose another friend. The third time is against Mark for stealing his body, who he feels betrayed by when he trusted him. On the other hand, Celine snaps every tine someone doesn't listen to her advice. The biggest time where Celine gets furious is when she demands us to go further into the upside down. It’s clear that she doesn’t care for you, her feelings towards Mark and his death are questionable at best, and at this point her biggest concern are the secrets of the house.Unlike her tolerant brother, she doesn’t like not getting her way, much like Dark.

Lastly is Dark’s manipulative nature. The first time Dark was introduced, Mark emphasized on this trait of his so much. It was Dark’s key underlining trait, the thing that made Dark ‘Dark’, the one piece of him that made him the opposite of Mark, the one thing Mark never wanted to become, and Mark uses this to describe Celine of all people. The thing about the word ‘manipulative’ is that its such a strong, negative word that is perfect for Dark, but a bit harsh for Celine, someone who both Mark, Wilford, and Damien loved. Mark could have said she was ‘convincing’ or  ‘trustworthy’ (a word used to describe Damien), but Mark says specifically that Celine is manipulative, many times too, implying that Dark gets this trait from her. And its definitely not from Damien, after all, Damien is the only one from WKM who is genuine in his concern for the others in the house, especially you and Will. He never tries to lie or cheat the others, even if he suspects them, and he’s always looking out for everyone. And Damien’s kind nature is nothing like Dark at all.

Celine in general is a suspicious character. I mean, I want to believe with all my heart that she’s a good person who truly meant well, but everything about her just seems off. She shows up in the middle of the murder of her ex husband, takes it as well as Will does, noticeably teleports an entire standing group of people from one part of the house to sitting on a bunch of chairs around a table, almost manages to convince everyone that we’re a strong suspect, uses us because she cares about us the least, and is the one who first showed signs of being Dark before Dark was even created. Her background isn’t exactly clean either I mean, she cheated on her husband with one of his best friends for who knows how long and left with said friend to leave her brother to deal with her mess of an ex. And that hurts especially considering Mark genuinely cared about her (even though Mark says that she was stolen from him which is 100% not cool dude)

Like I said, I’m not saying Celine is a bad person, I’m just saying compared to Damien, she’s more like Dark than him. People don’t give her enough credit.

[melonoverlord]

Ask meme for Kait

Which parent do they look the most like?

She has her mom’s nose, but otherwise she is the much cuter version of her father. Which made her confused why he never wanted to spend time with her or seemed not to like her. Because she hasn’t seen her parents in ten years, she sometimes wonders if her dad still looks like her or if he looks different now.

Is there a name they were almost given (either by their parents or during character creation)?

Because Sid doesn’t like talking about their family, she doesn’t really know if her parents had other ideas what to name her. All Sid told her was that they were not the type of family to name people after ancestors because at least on their dad’s side, he hated some of his family.

What were they like as a kid (if they’re currently a child, what would they be like as a teen)?

Because Kait had no one to interact with as a child, she had to learn how to have fun on her own so she was a very imaginative child who loved reading, watching movies, and playing pretend in any capacity. She had an imaginary friend for a long time who was her only playmate (even though he was just in her mind) and the two of them were everything from pirates to princes to ninja frogs.

What’s their drinking tolerance and what kind of drunk are they?

Kait has never had a drink and never really wants to drink unless its very fruity, but she’d probably have a low tolerance but not laughably low. Probably at two drinks she’d be the oversharing drunk that tells everyone that she’s scared that if she doesn’t put on a happy mask all the time, people will leave her and then right after that tell them that they have just the most adorable earrings.

Where do they like to be touched?

Kait is small and round and shaped like a friend, so she loves hugging and being hugged, but she also loves being touched around her face everywhere. Having her face held, being kissed many many times around the face, and playing with her hair, she loves it all. She craves the touch.

What’s their favorite position (top/bottom/switch/pillow princess/etc.)

She’s not that much into sex (much more into romance/friendship), but if/when she does have it, she’s a very giggly bottom who’s very eager to please, but also given her need for attention, she can be rather bratty about getting what she wants.

What are their kinks?

Kait’s fairly vanilla when it comes to sex. If anything, she’d probably be into foodplay but just in the sense of feeding each other (because her first love is unsolved mysteries and her second love is cupcakes) and fancy clothes. She loves fancy clothes.

How do they feel about adrenaline (roller coasters, extreme sports, etc.)?

Kait’s not very sporty because she is terrible at athletics, but she does enjoy roller coasters a lot, especially if she has someone to go with. Before Damien was born, she and Sidney would go to Coney Island during the summer and they would ride every ride until they got sick. She hasn’t had much of a chance to go on roller coasters, but she would like to have a fun amusement park day with the team.

What is their fight or flight response?

She’s more of a fighter both as herself and as Eldritch, but her methods are different. As herself, her brand of fighting is just stubborn caring about others and offering redemption to anyone she meets through hugs. And as an Eldritch, she will just eat people.

When it comes to problems about her though, it’s definitely flight. Deflect and distract until no one’s asking about herself.

What’s their pain tolerance?

When Kait was little, she never got into a situation where she could hurt herself because her parents took painstaking measures to make sure that Kait was insulated and couldn’t feel anything that could edge on a negative emotion (which fun fact, just made her anxious and eager to please). So because she couldn’t run around and hurt herself, she has a laughably low pain tolerance. Which is why pain is the quickest way to get her to turn. If she gets a bruise, it’s there for a month.

What character archetype are they the most like (the Innocent, the Hero, etc.)

Definitely The Innocent/The Child. She’s an adult, and she gets a little frustrated when people say that she’s a child, but her heart is as big as a mountain and she believes so wholeheartedly that everyone can be good and if they had the opportunity they could change. Which in a monster world where sometimes the humans are the monsters, that’s a lot of innocence to lose.

What TV-Tropes trope would they be?

Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass. On the surface, she’s an adorable bubbly idiot who could never hurt a fly, and that’s true in a sense. But get her angry enough and she will turn into a terrifying eldritch monster who can eat someone in one swoop.

What John Mulaney quote/bit do they most embody?

It’s a toss up between “I was just shiny and dumb and easy to trick” and “I need everybody to like me so much, it’s exhausting.”

With the exception of love interests and immediate family, who are they closest to?

If we’re not counting Sigma as a love interest, then it definitely would be him. Although she’s always had a lot of friends both in New York and in Hunter’s Creek, all of them were more fair weather friends and she never had super close friends that she could trust with the inner workings of her heart. Until Sigma, and now these two idiots are the first best friend either of them has ever had. And she never wants to let that go.

If we are counting Sigma as a love interest, and we can’t say Sid, then it probably would be Nell just because one on one, she’s spent the most time with her outside Sigma and considers Nell to be somewhat of a mentor, but she’s unsure on how Nell feels about her (but like it’s totally okay because everyone loves Kait and it would be really silly for Nell not to like her, right?). Nell has a very subdued vibe and for Kait who needs enthusiastic validation, she doesn’t know how to take it.

What is their moral alignment? What would have to happen for it to shift?

Probably the best fit is Neutral Good. She wants the best for everyone and doesn’t want to hurt anyone even if it comes at the expense of her own wellbeing, and although she sometimes uses her privilege to doxx people (such as Amazon or racist cops) which would put her to Chaotic Good, she ultimately just wants to make people happy.

Are they a morning person? What are they like before 8am?

She’s not naturally a morning person, but she likes being outside and around people as much as she can, so she’ll get up at around 8 and start her day meeting people and getting interaction. She’s just a little quieter in the morning though and walks around with a blanket cloak.

What are they like when they’re tired?

For all her bad habits, she’s actually pretty good at going to bed when tired. When she can’t go to bed when she’s tired, she becomes a even more distracted immovable object who can’t focus and will make herself a cocoon until she can go to bed. She gets very chilly and shivery when tired.

What are they like in arguments?

Kait doesn’t get into arguments ever, she usually acquiesces and lets the other side win so she doesn’t have to get yelled at or just sit there and take it and then ignore what the other person said. However, if or when it comes to a point where Kait knows she’s right and she’s not being listened to and she’s frustrated, she will blow up and start screaming, which usually comes with angry tears. So let’s hope it never comes to that. I hope it comes to that.

What is their dominant hand?

She’s a leftie who’s trying really hard to be a rightie so she can write twice as much to save time!

Out of 10, how happy are they? How happy do they think they are?

Kait is always very very happy and is living her best life, with a great sister, great friends, and an amazing follower count so 10/10!

But of course, this is not true. She’s been living her life bottling everything up and pretending that everything’s fine, so she goes through life being a worried 7/10. And now that she’s going to Maine, people are telling her she can’t save herself, and she may have messed things up with Sigma and Sid, her eye being fucked up, and the whole turning thing, she’s at a cool 5/10 and hoping no one notices.