#sometimes people like that will lie -including to themselves- to avoid admitting they were ever wrong

[mellon1998]

On the subject of Kipperlilly Copperkettle...

It's okay if you like her, it's okay if you want her to be redeemed. It's okay to wish she had been revived and redeemed and grown as a character. Some of you may relate to her, may know people who were once like her, and it can be daunting to see yourself in a character and see them not get the chance to grow. After all, you got that chance, people you know like her got that chance. We all look back on parts of ourselves we've moved past (maybe even are still working on) and are glad to be past them. We're glad people loved us through those parts of ourselves.

I need you all to understand something though: You chose to change. People like Kipperlilly cannot grow or change until they choose to. Kipperlilly doesn't want to change, she does not recognize the flaws in herself. She may be aware of her anger issues, but she doesn't see her want for power as wrong. She doesn't see her desire for recognition she didn't earn as wrong. She doesn't see the issues of romanticizing trauma and hating people you don't even know and who have done nothing to you. She doesn't see a need to change her ways. Unless and until she does she will not change, no matter what anyone else may do or say.

More than anything, we see this in the fact that she chose Porter. We don't know the series of events that took place, but Brennan made it very clear that she chose him of her own freewill. She chose his side, she chose to force her decision on her party, she chose to kill Lucy and Buddy, she chose to end the world to gain power. She chose to end the world to get revenge on people who, at that point, had never even spoken to her. Up until the final fight, the worst thing they ever did to Kipperlilly was trade quips and call her four dogs.

The truly sad part? She probably never will. I've known many people like Kipperlilly who still, after years and years, refuse to recognize their own flaws. Refuse to seek help. They are given chance after chance, people choosing every single day to love them through their flaws, and they refuse to change.

Kipperlilly is addicted to power, we see this in so many ways. We see this in how she so very clearly tried her utmost to be the leader of the High 5 Heroes seemingly unprompted, as evidenced by 3 (maybe 4) of the other 5 not liking her. People don't tend to be chill about someone forcing their way into the position of leader. Especially in small groups. We see this in how she saw grinding would, at least in the early days, be more efficient for leveling than adventuring. She wanted the power, not the skills and experience. We see this in her bid for class president. She questioned if Kristen actually had any interest in improving the school, if Kristen cared. Did you care about the students or making the school better, Kipperlilly? We saw no evidence of that. The only things she wanted to do was make things better and easier specifically for herself.

It sucks. She is a kid, she isn't pure evil. Even in the world of dnd with devils and demons, nobody is pure evil. She could be more, she could grow as a person. She could use her eye for efficiency but learn to also take the necessity of practical application into account to help her party improve. She could use her abilities to hide and blend in to potentially do really good work to make the world better. She could have been more, but she didn't want to. It's unfortunate, but it's true. She didn't want to change.

Yes, she did go to therapy with Jawbone, but we don't know why. We know it was for anger issues, but we don't know that it was her choice to go. Her parents or the school could have forced her to. Even then, based on the notes, it doesn't sound like she was really interested in using therapy to help her grow as a person. She just used it to vent, which can be a part of therapy but it's not everything.

At the end of the day, she made her choices. None of which were to grow as a person.

[running-with-the-feels]

i’d love to hear some of your subscorp headcanons that haven’t made it into your fics 🫶 (love your work btw)

thank you so much!

The list might include headcanons that are in the fics as well, just bc I can't remember what all I've included

Hanzo is a cuddler, if he is in bed with another person he will end up wrapped around them like an octopus. Kuai Liang on the other hand isn't used to touching people so whenever Hanzo wraps around him he ends up just lying there, buffering.

Sparring is one of their favorite ways to flirt, partly bc they're the only ones who can give each other a real challenge and partly bc they like seeing each other all sweaty and shirtless and whatnot.

Their first date was probably a mission, not bc they'd planned that but bc they got the mission as they were leaving for their date and didn't want to waste the opportunity.

Similarly, Hanzo was probably the one that said it first (as often as I write otherwise) as he is, somehow, the more emotionally mature one between the two and Kuai Liang would not admit to an emotion if his life depended on it.

It probably happened either during or after a near death experience as well, as Hanzo's self loathing would probs make him keep it a secret.

Once they say it tho they go from allies to practically married in zero seconds flat, it's just instant.

I also think that if Kuai Liang ever. managed to track down his home from before he and Bi-Han were taken by the Lin Kuei and get some of the heirlooms and keepsakes (parents' wedding rings, photo albums, etc) he'd give Hanzo one of the rings and wear the other.

He also would not tell Hanzo where he got the ring, so Hanzo would find out from Bi-Han and probs have to go lie down for a minute while he processed that.

They are attached at the hip too, like thank god they have trustworthy ppl as their seconds in command bc they spend every other day at each other's temple. They can't be apart for more than a few hours or they get irritable.

There's a betting pool amongst the Special Forces about when they're going to get together. Takeda has considerable money on the outcome and keeps trying to nudge things into his favor.

Neither Hanzo nor Kuai Liang is aware of the betting pool.

For all that Hanzo is the more hotheaded one, Kuai Liang is actually the one more down with violence. Like someone insults Hanzo and Kuai Liang is Immediately in Attack Mode.

Hanzo is incredibly tactile too, like he needs to be touching Kuai Liang at all times. It took a while to get used to it, but now Kuai Liang jsut melts into the contact every time

NSFW Territory

Kuai Liang has a praise kink, he likes to know that he's done a good job and really enjoys it when he can make Hanzo moan.

Kuai Liang also likes to be the one in control more often then not, which Hanzo is thrilled about bc it means he doesn't have to think for the next couple of hours.

They both like biting and leaving marks but while Hanzo is happy to stop at a pretty big hickey, Kuai Liang wants to draw blood. Kuai Liang is somewhat embarrassed about that but Hanzo is Delighted.

They both have a quite frankly ridiculous amount of stamina and after a close call they'll sometimes just lock themselves in their room for a full day and just not come out.

Both of their powers do occasionally come out during sex, but while Kuai Liang enjoys that and uses it to his advantage, Hanzo is just worried he'll end up burning their house down so he tries to avoid it by keeping things under control.

Kuai Liang likes to see how far he can push that control and whether or not he can break it (spoiler alert, he can)

I think that's everything, but let me know if you want more and I'm sure I can think of some

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I’m sorry, but can I just go on a little rant about the Louis, clouis, and the Clem comic...? 

I didn’t really talk about Louis in my overall review of the comic because I wanted that to be more contained to the content shown on the pages, Clementine’s relationship with AJ, and her as a character.... but the more I think about these comics and Louis, the more frustrated I become thinking about what Clementine abandoning everyone would do to him. 

[... okay it’s not little anymore since I guess I can never just do anything simple when it comes to Louis, sorry my bad]

So, no surprise, we all know the comic’s bullshit by now. Clementine leaving everything and everyone behind because she’s not happy is dumb, AJ just letting her go is dumb, and Clem going to the mountains on crutches and a peg leg to find this so-called happiness is dumb. 

Now that we’ve established it’s dumb, I wanna talk about Louis because I got a lot of built up feelings about how bullshit this storyline is with how Clementine would not only abandon AJ, but also abandon Louis. 

Because let me tell you..... his heart would be broken beyond repair and I need to talk about why.

Sigh.... so.... muh boy. 

Before he met Clementine, Louis was this laidback, irresponsible, but caring and musical person who kept his head down to avoid conflict and never looked at the future. He was the kind of person who took things one day at a time, saw survival as a day-to-day task, and said that the future doesn’t exist, there’s only today. You get the point, he was never too concerned with things because they always seemed to work out, and if they didn’t, then that sucks and that’s why we should appreciate every day while we have it. 

Louis is shown to be charismatic and friendly, he spends his free time playing piano and card games, but no one really takes him seriously. Not even Marlon, his best friend for 8+ years. While he doesn’t seem to be on bad terms with anyone [including Aasim, they just act like people who disagree with the other’s point of view and have had the same argument many times, but that doesn’t mean they hate each other, y’know?] he also doesn’t appear super close with anyone outside of Marlon and possibly Violet, but even then. 

Marlon’s shown to have little faith in him with the way he talks about if Louis will even show up to hunt. He has a controlling grip on Louis that’s prominent during the confrontation scene when he uses intimidation to try to convince Louis to not interfere. Oh, and there’s the fact that Marlon’s been lying to Louis for the past year about the twins and then continued to lie to his face about what really happened to Brody... which isn’t great when you consider how Louis was the only one who had blind faith in him as a leader and, according to Marlon, was the only one who couldn’t see how pathetic he always was. 

Violet, while having a few more nicer moments with him than Marlon, still invalidates him and his feelings several times throughout the first half of the game which makes me wonder how close they ever were, or at least if Violet ever considered him a close friend to begin with. And no, a small monologue in the dorms doesn’t make everything better or confirm they were brotp the whole time... especially when once they’re on the boat, Louis might as well not exist because Violet can’t be bothered to acknowledge what happened to him or inquire about how he’s doing. I guess she just didn’t have time react while standing in her cell for several unbothered minutes-- no wait, it’s she already reacted off screen. Right. Good writing is good.

What I’m getting at here is that even though Louis is surrounded by people who he genuinely cares about, there is an argument to be made that he’s a lonely person. Hell, he’s aware of his loneliness when he says that no one hears past his music and jokes. I mean, how many nights do you think he spent by himself playing the piano because no one wanted to hear it? Are they like Violet and crack jokes about how he doesn’t have actual talent? Probably, given that someone literally carved “you suck at playing” onto the side of the damn piano. 

Oh, and let’s touch on that backstory of his. Louis grew up wealthy with two parents who loved him and each other, and they gave him anything he wanted except singing lessons. Louis says he wanted to be a real musician. But I guess his father didn’t like that idea and told him no, with the [as Louis puts it] dumb dad lesson of, “You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” ...which is interesting given that Louis and his family were stupid rich but also.... were they not happy? well, that doesn’t make sense because little Louis knew that if he broke up their marriage, they would be hurt. 

So yeah, Louis was so upset that his father continually refused to let him take singing lessons that he broke into the man’s credit cards and faked an affair, which led to his parents divorcing... and then he spit his father’s words back in his face. 

Then they dumped him at Ericson. And the walkers came. 

There’s so much to unpack from the story he tells that it could be it’s own analysis, but basically.... Louis is aware of why what he did was fucked up, and he carries it with him every day. 

He regrets what he did, chews himself out for being such a “vindictive fuckhead” [and the amount of force used in that line tells you a lot, like how it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself like this] and he admits that he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about. Yet, he still sees himself as bad, saying that they [I assume the staff] told him and the other kids they’re bad people. I don’t doubt that Louis internalized that which played a huge role in the confidence and self-esteem issues he has during tfs. 

Anyway, I’ll come back to this later, but when you take that amount of guilt and regret, and mix it with the fact that they dropped him off at this school that was supposed to make him better.... then the walkers came and those teachers, staff, and headmaster? Gone. Left a bunch of kids to fend for themselves, with the exception of Ms. Martin [but given how she looks when we find her I doubt she lasted that long] and I cannot imagine how horrifying that was for all of them. The dead are up eating people, and if you die you become one of them... and the people you thought you could rely on just fucking left you to die at this school. 

Every kid in that school has trauma and abandonment issues from before and after the world went to shit, every last one, and Louis isn’t the exception here. Over the years, a lot of kids died and they’ve all seen horrible shit. They all knew they were never going to see their families again, and as far as we know, no one came to get their kids at the beginning. They had to find ways of coping while trying to survive, and all they had left was each other. 

Louis copes with music and games and jokes. He’s built up this persona where it seems like he’s unaffected by the comments the others make, that the death and suffering he’s gone through is in the past, that he is confident and open to those around him.

But then Clementine and AJ show up, and Louis grows close with both of them. They had immediate chemistry upon first meeting, he was the one who looked after AJ since it seems like everyone else saw him as a little terror, and he went out of his way to be kind and make them comfortable. 

When they go hunting with him, Louis and Clementine have a moment after taking care of the walker where they lower their guards a bit-- Louis gives her more in-depth reasons for his views of survival, and going off her expression, it gets to her and makes her think.... but they’ve know each other a day and he’s not quick to infodump his life story or let her in, so he cuts the conversation short.

Then we have the Marlon confrontation scene that I have gone over so many times in the past. I won’t dillydally with it too long but..... Clementine appeals to Louis, who curls in on himself because of the control Marlon has on him. He wants to help, and hell, he knows this is wrong but he’s so used to not getting involved that he gets defensive.... plus, he’s known Clementine for two days, and he’s known Marlon for 8+ years.... he wants to believe Marlon but you can tell he doesn’t want this, either. It takes Clementine talking to him to give him courage to stand between her and Marlon’s gun and it’s a lot.

AJ shoots Marlon and everything goes to shit, and Louis is a goddamn mess. His best friend was murderer right in front of him, so add that to the trauma list, and he’s overwhelmed with all these feelings that again.... they keep getting invalidated by Violet because “Marlon was a liar and murderer, therefore you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Get over yourself, Louis, you can be such a shithead sometimes.” 

Oh yeah Vi, I guess he should care more about two people he’s known for a total of two days rather than for the safety of the people [including you] he’s grown up with and cared about for 8+ years.... makes sense. 

So yeah, little to no support during this time. Alone again. 

And just because I have to make this clear so no one gets a hair up their ass-- both Louis and Violet are wrong here. Kicking them out isn’t the solution, but neither is acting like AJ was right to commit murder just because it was Marlon.

 But plots gotta plot, so they get voted out and you can see that Louis is conflicted about the whole thing. He wants them gone, but at the same time, he knows what kicking them out means. You can see it on his face that he’s not okay with kicking them out. He’s hurting when he’s there in the dorms telling them how the vote went... he literally doesn’t know what else to do. He just knows that everything hurts, Clem and AJ caused it, and he wants the pain to stop. He even tries to justify it to himself by figuring that they’ve done this before so they’ll be fine. Not a great thing to say, Lou. 

Anyway, we know the story, Clem and AJ come back and Louis once again sees the consequences of acting out of pain.... AJ is shot because Louis was hurt and he made a bad decision that he’s gotta live with.... something that he’s done before, and this affirms to him that he’s bad. He wishes he could take it back, and goes as far as to admit that to Clementine during the archery scene. 

By the way, credit to him for his apology to her. It’s rare in these games that Clem gets a genuine apology from someone who hurt her and doesn’t turn around to repeat the hurtful behavior, y’know? Plus, I can think of plenty of characters who owed Clem an apology in the past or if they did apologize, it was half-assed. 

You can feel how conflicted he is with this whole thing-- learning who Marlon really was and what he did, feeling something for Clementine before everything went down and not knowing how to handle those feelings afterward, caring about AJ and understanding why he thought shooting was the best choice but still hurting that his friend is dead.... 

And the thing is.... Louis forgives her for so much, as she does him, and through all of that bullshit, they manage to develop that strong connection that turns romantic. Louis lets himself be fully vulnerable with her and is honest about his feelings, how she listened when no one else did and seeing him for more than just the persona he put on. 

This works on Clementine’s side, too. Clementine has been through her own fair share of bullshit-- trauma, abandonment, loss, injury, you name it. She’s made mistakes, done terrible things, and has been in enough groups to know that romance usually ends in heartbreak.... and yet, she’s willing to open herself up to Louis and admit she feels a lot for him. 

Is it a little rushed? Yep. Could it have been handled better? Of course, most things this season could’ve, but what we got was pretty good. 

So Clementine and Louis are romantically involved now, the raiders attack, and she saves him... and boy does Louis feel guilty about that one, too. He feels bad enough that he questions why she would pick him because he can’t fathom his life being worth saving over another’s. He doesn’t see himself as useful, and even though Clementine is literally his girlfriend at this point, his self-esteem is so all over the place that he can’t understand why she would have him at her side. 

And when Clementine tells him that he’s too important to her, he’s too baffled to even give a response. He looks at her in disbelief like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.  But this shows that at the beginning of their relationship, he still doubts himself, and through her working with him, he begins to build up that strength in himself. 

He becomes brave enough to share what got him sent to the school with her, and he plays Don’t Be Afraid for everyone at the party and like.... for once, everyone is listening to him. Really listening to him. They’re not talking shit about his musical skills, they’re not ignoring him or the feelings he’s putting into the song, they’re sitting there with him and I just..... if you watch him, you can see that his eyes get pretty glossy throughout the song. The moment meant something to everyone. 

There’s also the fact that Clementine asked him to come with her and AJ onto the boat, and to be the one in charge of the bomb... that’s a huge responsibly and he feels the pressure of that. He starts to panic a bit about if he can do it, because what if he fucks up? What if he gets them caught and makes everything worse? What if something happens to Clementine and he can’t do anything about it? 

She’s there to reassure him that she believes in him, and that he can do this. They’re going to get everyone back, and he needs to focus... then he asks her to slap him which why would you? that’s dumb, so Clementine smooches him instead and like.... he physically relaxes into her because he’s comfortable and trusts her in this situation. 

Also, he loves her and cares about this mission enough to cover himself and his fancy jacket in walker guts.... sure, he complains while doing so but how else is he gonna cope with rubbing rotten guts on himself to blend in with a herd of walkers? 

Skipping ahead so that we’re not here all day, I wanna talk about the walk back to the school because it’s one of the most important clouis moments in the game and a huge reason that solidifies why the comic is bullshit.

Louis went off on his own to go out and find them. He didn’t know where they would be, he just knew that he had to go out and find them after making sure everyone was okay back at the school because he couldn’t bare the thought that he had lost them. And the way the AJ gets so excited to see him? and the group hug??

At this point, Louis has grown so much as a character. With Clementine by his side to support him, he’s grown stronger and more reliable. Remember how he never thought about the future? Well, now he is because his relationship with Clementine has given him a reason to long for a future. He talks about building this imaginary house with her, one he knows they can’t physically build... but it’s his way of saying we can build a home together, that he wants a future with her and AJ and everyone else. It’s such a personal conversation that flows so easy between them. Louis is more comfortable talking to her about things from his past, which is something he didn’t want to do back in ep1. 

He confides in her how he’s feeling after he shot and killed Dorian, he tells her that having a home means protecting it and I just.... it’s so good, okay? And from Clementine’s side, you can feel how at ease she is with him, too. Just the way she smiles at him as they’re walking? like he’s the cutest thing and she’s so happy to have him with her? 

But then we gotta deal with Minerva’s crazy ass on the bridge and well, AJ shoots Tenn and Louis is having flashbacks to Marlon and it’s not great. That’s a whole thing, and he ends up separated from them while escaping.

We don’t get to see Louis’ reaction to Clementine getting bit and losing her leg since I guess that puts a damper on the overly happy ending. But, going off of what we know about him and what I’ve explained [which isn’t even all of it, this isn’t a full Louis character analysis. if it was, it would be much longer and in multiple parts... believe it or not, I’m trying to not make this too long and only sorta failing...] we can get an idea of how he would react. 

Um, to say he was upset is an understatement.

Because remember, he had no time to think and climbed over the fence, thinking he could get them to climb over and they could get away, but it didn’t work. He ended up leaving them in order to save himself since walkers were closing in on him.

But you know that he’d blame himself for the bite. A lot of, “if I had just stayed” and “I should’ve climbed back over, I should’ve stayed with you.” I’m sure there were points where it looked like Clem wouldn’t make it and I can’t imagine how much hurt he went through watching her suffer and heal from losing a leg like that. 

Not only that, but knowing that AJ was the one to do it? And him thinking about what Clem’s death would do to AJ after all this? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Louis would take care of AJ if she died. He cares about AJ, and he loves Clementine, so he be there for both of them, even if he’s still hurting from Tenn’s death. 

However, Clementine didn’t die. She survived the bite and amputation, and when we flashforward, she and Louis are still happily together. Louis is right there next to her at dinner, and he’s the one to help her with her crutches. He’s there to go over future plans to meet the traveling caravan, and Clementine wants him to be the one to go. 

Oh, and Louis once again forgives AJ for shooting Tenn, claiming that he understands that AJ saw something that he couldn’t. Like with Marlon, he’s not happy Tenn’s dead but he can see why AJ did it to save his life. 

I just..... happy ending. Clementine and Louis are together and she’s truly happy to have found a home for her and AJ with him at Ericson. 

....But then the comic thought it would be fun to say “nah.” 

The comic isn’t canon, I’m still insulted that it would ever consider itself as such, but even so I can’t help but feel so frustrated about how this would destroy Louis. 

He finally found someone he would consider his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She saw past that funny man persona and he trusted her enough to let her past this wall he built around himself. He let himself become vulnerable around her, he named his song after her. Their initials are carved into his piano with a heart surrounding them. He loved her. 

Clementine left him feeling loved, something he probably hasn’t truly felt since he was a little boy with his parents before their divorce. She loved him even after hearing his past because she knew that wasn’t him anymore, and she helped him build the confidence he needed to step up. Because of Clementine, Louis wants to enjoy every day while also looking at the future. He isn’t lonely anymore, he has her and AJ. He’s truly happy.

So to tell me that Louis would wake up one morning only to have AJ tell him that Clementine’s gone, she’ been planning an escape without telling anyone because she wasn’t happy...? I’m sorry, but if you think that wouldn’t leave Louis absolutely devastated, then you know nothing about him as a character. 

This idea is just.... look, Louis is perceptive. That’s a big part of his character, he’s perceptive of those around him. If Clementine was showing signs of being unhappy or depression, he would see it. He would notice a change. He would be able to tell if something was off, and he would ask her about it. Louis is the type of person to ask you what you need. What can he do to help? What do you need to feel better? And if you don’t know, it’s okay, he’ll help you figure it out in any way possible. 

Plus, the comic suggests that there are times where she went off on her own but came back [probably doing her escape prep ugh] and you expect me to believe that Louis wouldn’t notice that or wonder what she’s doing? Wouldn’t sense that something’s going on? 

After she’s gone, he’s going to blame himself for not being enough. He couldn’t make her happy and he was a fool to think he ever could. AJ lost the only family he’s known since he was born because Louis couldn’t help her, couldn’t do anything to stop her from leaving. 

And for him to realize that she didn’t love him? Clementine, the girl he thought the world of because of how strong and confident and in-charge she was, because she saw him for who he was..... she left him, abandoned him... and she couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.... that says that she didn’t care all that much about him in the end.

You KNOW that he would think he had this coming, too. How could the universe allow him to fall in love and be happy with someone who loved him back after what he did to his parents? He would feel so heartbroken that he would see this as some sort of karma for breaking up his parents happy marriage as a kid years before he ever met Clementine and before the apocalypse.

I fucking can’t.... I don’t have the words to fully explain how much I hate this. Louis wouldn’t be okay afterward, and I doubt he’d ever fully recover. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned before that Louis would stop playing piano. How could he sit there and play when I he can see is their initials and remember the night she confessed to him? When he named his song after her? Clementine left and took the music with her because Louis wouldn’t have it in him... something that he used to cope would be ruined and that’s just.... it’s fucking awful. 

Not only that, but now he has AJ who I assume is hurting just as much [though the comics inaccurately assume he would just let Clem go sooo... yeah] and he would be the only one Louis would really talk to about it, but then again.... what if AJ doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if AJ starts to act out and things just become terrible and Louis is just too overwhelmed? 

I just.... UGH. That’s how I feel. UGH. 

Clementine from the comic? Not her. She would never fucking do this to Louis, AJ, or anyone else at Ericson, and you would know that if you played the tfs. 

Sigh.... sorry, I just needed to get this all out. I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Clem leaving would affect Louis and I’ve gotten some asks/come across some posts about Louis that have left me incredibly annoyed.... well, I was annoyed before because of the comics, so my annoyances with those things were only heightened. So yeah... I wanted to talk about Louis’ character in hopes of explaining why he would be so hurt if this comic was canon. 

Which it’s not. So it’s fine. 

How are we all feelin’ at this point, by the way? I know I’m not the only one still annoyed with the comic, so I hope y’all are doin’ okay. Hope you’re stayin’ chill and thinking about your faves to help cope with this mess hahaha

[obae-me]

Could I please get hcs on how the brothers would react to a mc that doesn't like or feel comfortable receiving compliments? They personally make me uncomfortable since most of the time, people only give me compliments if they want something from me or are just joking and being cruel.

I’m sorry this one came out late, but I really liked writing this one. I hope you like it, thank you, Anon! 💜

Lucifer

He’s the Demon of Pride, and as such, despite his sound and logical mind, he doesn’t realize there are...people...who don’t like compliments. It doesn’t occur to him as a possibility at all. He loves compliments. He thrives under praise. He’ll puff up his wings and strive for perfection just so people will look at him.

So, naturally, he finds compliments to be high on his list of forms of affection. If MC does something right, he’ll compliment them. However, in return all he’ll get is a scoff? A questioning glare? This makes him furious.

What he doesn’t realize is that MC is used to being used. To being praised only to be betrayed. There was always an ulterior motive, so why should demons be any better?

“You would throw back something I willingly gave you?”

“You’re only giving me a compliment to get something out of me, so why don’t you just tell me what you want instead of lying to me?”

That wasn’t a rebuttal he was expecting. Yes he was a demon, and yes sometimes his intentions weren’t the most pure, but to think that someone would believe he’d sink so low as to give compliments in desire to extort them? His brothers maybe, but him?

He took a moment to look at their expression. It was sour and uncomfortable. It’s not what he expected. This was a problem that went deeper than just distrust in demons. He’ll ask them if they’ll talk about it. They don’t go into detail, which he respects, but explains that compliments feel only like lies, and it makes them uncomfortable.

He’ll learn to find other ways to praise them other than compliments. He’ll reward them with a dinner or a little treat. If they’ve done something he’s really proud of, he’ll put it up where people can see. He’ll still give them simple compliments every now and again out of habit, and while MC still doesn’t fully accept it, they’ll smile and nod this time instead of throwing it out the window.

Mammon

He doesn’t give out too many compliments to anybody in general, much less a human. On top of that, it’s especially rare that he’ll give a genuine compliment. This is the demon that MC should be wary of, if he says something nice about them, it’s a very very high chance that he does want something. Not necessarily because he wants to harm the other person, it’s just that he’s grown up with Lucifer as an older brother, and more often than not, puffing up his ego can get him off the hook.

Naturally though, this makes MC very distrustful. On the off chance he does give MC a legit compliment, he might as well have said that he doesn’t like money, because they won’t believe it one bit. He’s totally in the dark about it, he doesn’t get humans at all. He thought he did a good thing, he thought they would’ve loved praise from him, the one and only Mammon. He went out of his way to ask Solomon about it. He was a human too so surely he’d understand.

“Probably because they think you want something, Mammon.”

“But I didn’t that time!”

He was hopeless.

If that’s how they felt, he was going to have to show them how genuine he could be. He was a gentleman, an icon, a pillar of power, so he was going to have to prove it. Everyone found it amusing just how exaggerated he was, treating everything that MC did with respect and reverence. Even Lucifer was in awe over how hard he was working to treat people with honest intentions.

He would make sure MC was there when he returned stolen things back to his brothers. He tells them he’ll cut off gambling and bets immediately. He opens doors for them and escorts them to RAD all without asking for a fee. He wanted MC to trust him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, someone wouldn’t call him scummy for once.

Yes, the brothers had a secret bet with themselves to see how far Mammon could last. Lucifer won, he tends to know his brothers the best. Mammon stopped being completely honest to everyone in about two weeks. He really did try his best to continue to be honest with MC, though. Even if no one else did, they wanted MC to trust him.

Levi

He has a hard time taking compliments too, so if there’s anyone that understands MC, it’s him. Compliments always riddle him with anxiety. He can’t be anything but a dirty, nasty, ugly otaku. His brothers tend to just roll their eyes at it. He’s a powerful demon, he can’t really think that way, he’s just being whiny.

So if MC doesn’t accept any of his compliments, he thinks it’s himself that’s to blame. Of course they’d look extremely uncomfortable to be complimented by him, they probably thought he was a pervert now. He shut himself in his room for days. The brothers had seen this happen before, so they weren’t concerned, but MC couldn’t help but be worried.

They came up to his room, knocked on the door, but was left with silence. Not surprising. They felt like they had to apologize anyway, so they spoke to the door, hoping that maybe Levi would hear some of it. They apologized for making him feel bad. They apologized for being stupid, for being rude.

Levi opened the door, shaking his head furiously. He hadn’t thought that of them at all. They both end up putting their feelings on the table. MC will share with him some of the stories of why they can’t trust honey-coated words anymore. Levi will talk about his failures as the third-born.

“We’re both a mess, aren’t we?”

In the end they’ll both spend much more time together than they had before. Even just the peace of being in the same room, even if they were doing different activities, set them a bit more at ease.

They both worked on trying to be better at accepting compliments, with no pressure put on them, of course. And if any demon ever tired to butter MC up to abuse them, they’d be destroyed by Levi before anyone could say Game Over.

Satan

One time tried to give MC an compliment that was so eloquently written, it could’ve been written by a poet. They did not take it well, to no fault of Satan’s or his work. It was so disgustingly sweet, MC went pale, nauseous off his words.

Satan felt so angry and embarrassed, he refused to be around MC for a week. Which made things worse. Both Satan and MC were spending far far too much time in their rooms and spending copious amounts of effort just on avoiding each other. The other brothers had had enough. They all got together and summoned both of them downstairs to talk. Lucifer called them out.

“Whatever happened certainly doesn’t warrant this new behavior, so you two are going to talk it out. Now.”

“Satan doesn’t like me, doesn’t surprise me, I knew everything was a lie anyway. With a compliment like that, it was too good to be true.”

Satan was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. The brother’s plan seemed to be working, so they left the two alone to talk it out. The two went back and forth for a while, clearing up all the misunderstandings. Satan had never felt dumber. He knew more than most, even among immortal beings, and yet he still let his emotions overtake his logic.

Now that he knew how MC felt about compliments in general, he knew how to handle them. If anyone thought that words alone were among his area of expertise, they were mistaken. He would do countless research on other ways to show praise and affection that wouldn’t come off as hollow. He’d fight anyone that made them uncomfortable again.

Asmo

He’ll have the hardest time with this. He’s a compliment churning machine. He’s a hype man. He’s a man of love., and so he wants to let the people he loves just how much he loves them.

It’s like never ending torture for MC, and they can’t help but feel like he’s doing it on purpose. How could he tell them they look amazing? How could he cuddle as close as he wants and describe them down to the detail? Every day made MC feel sick.

It got worse when MC was around him the first time he got drunk. He’d throw himself at them, every word he said laced heavy with alcohol.

“MC, you’re so cute, I want you by me all the time. MCCCC, you’re so wonderful, and beautiful, and cute-ah but I already said you were cu-“

MC shoved him off of them in a panic. “Stop, Asmo. Just stop!” They fled to their room leaving a confused drunk demon on the floor.

The next morning, while he fought a demon-sized hangover, he draped dramatically over his bed, running over last night’s kerfuffle in his head. Although the minor details were fuzzy, the important parts remained, including MC’s words. What’s this he was feeling...guilt? No no, he couldn’t have that, he needed to fix this right away.

He brought over his fluffiest robe and a tray with little cookies and fruity tea. MC almost didn’t let him in, but Asmo looked...different. Asmo sat them down and made sure they indulged themselves a little before apologizing. He had gone too far, and making other people feel uncomfortable was not an attractive quality.

MC felt like they needed to admit to him as well that any compliment they receive makes them feel that way. It was just too much for them all the time. He’s stunned, but how is he supposed to tell you how much he loves appreciates you?

MC decides to limit him to one compliment per day, maybe two if they feel like they can handle it. So now every day Asmo stays silent till he can think of the most perfect, most beautiful thing to tell them, hoping that maybe one day they’ll fully believe him and take it to heart.

Beel

He’s very much an actions over words person, so it’s rare that he’ll compliment MC with words alone. He likes to bring MC food, make sure they’re well fed and hydrated. He’ll keep them protected, that’s how he best shows his affection. He’ll follow MC everywhere he can, watching over them.

Sometimes he does tell them that they’re so sweet, and MC just shrinks further into their seat. He’ll frown. He doesn’t know why, but he does notice this anytime he says anything nice about them. So he’ll double down on getting them all the food they want. For him food equals love.

MC found it nice, since he was working so hard on making them feel good without trying to compliment them, but one night they came to their bedroom to find enough food to feed a small demon army. They appreciated it, but maybe Beel was taking this further than he needed to.

They brought him back to their room, and he looked extremely pleased with himself. He wanted MC to eat it all, he wouldn’t have one bite...other than the few bites he snuck already. However, MC begged him to help them eat it, it would be impossible to eat it all themselves. While Beel was eating, MC sighed and crossed their legs.

“Beel, I appreciate this so much, but you don’t have to go this far for me, you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

They explained how they just didn’t like compliments in general. No matter who they came from, no matter who said it. Demons, angels, humans, even God himself could say something kind about them and they’d still take it with a grain of salt.

It didn’t take long for Beel to understand, thank goodness. Of his many brothers, Beel is one them who supports them immediately despite how strange it seems. He’ll back down a bit, but still make sure MC knows every day how much he is proud of them by the things he does.

Belphie

Get a compliment from Belphie? Probably if there was something majorly wrong. He’s not good with words in general, and he doesn’t compliment anyone. Not his brothers, not humans, not even Diavolo. So this isn’t too much of an issue for MC.

However, he keeps a close eye on MC, closer than most people realize. Because of this, he notices one day when a grimy, good-for-nothing demon he doesn’t know, tries to win MC over with their words in order for them to do something.

“Aw come on, MC, you’re so smart, brilliant even! So won’t you do my part of the project for me? It’s nothing you can’t handle, you can handle anything!”

He can’t help but notice MC lean heavy on the wall behind them, using the books in their hands to cover the lower part of their fading face. He comes over and puts a ‘friendly’ hand on this demon’s shoulder. Upon laying eyes upon one of the powerful Student Council, they hesitantly tell MC they’ve got somewhere to be and then scatter. Belphie looks at MC and shakes his head a bit.

After what he’s done, after everything he’s said, he has no business helping MC out like this. He knows how much of a hypocrite he seems. He shoves his hands deep in his pocket and turns away. No wonder they can’t take compliments very well when every demon here that does sounds like, well...sound like him.

“Thank you, Belphie.” He stops, looking back over his shoulder at MC. This human...they were so dumb and confusing, but...he didn’t want to leave them alone. They were exhausting yet because of them he’d slept more peacefully and had more good dreams than nightmares.

He won’t ever tell them how much they appreciate them, which is fine, sometimes MC prefers it that way. He’ll mostly stay silent, but stay close to them. MC can know how much they mean to him without him having to say a word. Especially if Belphie feels comfortable enough to fall asleep on them, sometimes in their lap, sometimes on their shoulder. It says volumes.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A might have been part 2

Okay listen. If you really believed for even a moment that I was going to make an alternative past for @kingcreativityau where King got to be friends with baby instinct/fear and write all the way up to the split and then not include everything that happened after... Do you guys know me at all? My brain will not be sattisfied with this narative until i have written at least up until the return. And if there ever comes a time where the og comic comes to a conclusion, you better believe I’ll write how all of those events transpired in this alternate version of the timeline. So like it or not, at least two more parts are coming. So there. Enjoy!

part 1 here

A friendship for the ages

Creativity blinked in confusion. What… What was he doing? He looked up and saw… Himself? “Wow, you are just like me!” they chorused. They looked at each other stunned for a moment before they burst out laughing. They got up and shook hands. “Creativity,” they introduced themselves, laughing once more. “Wow, no kidding,” they snorted. “King?” a broken voice wondered. Both looked up. Curious about who spoke. Someone about their height took a step closer, pushing away from a smaller boy. Wait they knew this guy right? The name was at the tip of their tongue. “Not me. Is he talking to you?” they both wondered, looking at each other. “Guess not,” they shrugged. But King did sound familiar, though it didn’t quite feel like them. “I call Prince!” the one in the red cape declared. “Why?” The green caped one pouted. “Because I was first to call prince!” the prince reasoned. “Oh… That makes sense. Then I’m duke!” duke grinned. They turned to the boy, both grinning widely. Seemingly unaware of the atmosphere surrounding their appearance. Prince stepped forward proudly. “I am Prince!” he announced with a bow. “Nice to officially make your acquaintance.” Because they did know him didn’t they? Why was it such a mess in their heads? “Duke!” the other cackled. “Duke, dukey!” he giggled then. “I’m dukey,” he exclaimed with glee. “This… Is quite the unexpected turn,” a taller boy with glasses said. “Unexpected? You killed king! And all you can say about it is that it was unexpected?” The familiar boy cried, making the tall boy flinch. “Fear, kiddo…” the shorter boy soothed. Fear! “Oh! Fear! You are Fear!” Duke shouted, jumping up and down as he pointed at Fear. “You are our friend right?” Prince added. Fear looked up at them, tears still in their eyes. “Why are you sad? Whom must I slay?” Prince asked. “Yeah! We’ll make them poop their pants!” Duke added. Fear took a step back and shook his head. “You stay away,” he sobbed and took of. “Fear!” the little boy with glasses pleaded. The twins looked at each other. “What did we say?” “Fear simply needs time to ‘mourn’ your previous form. He’s highly emotional, it was to be expected that he would not respond well to such a big change with no time to mentally prepare. Let him have his tantrum. He’ll be back soon,” the tall boy stated firmly, adjusting his glasses. The boys wanted to believe him but both he and the little guy who introduced himself as Morality and the other as Logic cast worried glances in the direction Fear had ran of to. Sometimes they’d disappear in that direction and come back looking sad. Prince and Duke got to know the mindscape and, more importantly, the imagination fairly quickly and both agreed that Thomas was the most amazing person in the world and deserved everything he wanted. Sure Duke could be a bit gross sometimes and Prince could get a bit egocentric and too caught up with his own thoughts. But they were doing well. Logic was frustrated though that neither had interest in homework. And Morality seemed upset that they didn’t care much for playing with the other kids. Not even Thomas’ brothers. Well that was their problem really. The twins had each other. There was one side they were interested in though. Fear. The ‘tantrum' as Logic called it had still not blown over and everyone seemed worried. So, deciding to investigate to satisfy their curiosity they went looking for him. They knew what direction to go in. The others had gone to talk to Fear a bunch of times since he left. All they had to do was walk in the direction they went until they found him right? The walk was long, but eventually they saw a big willow. No Fear though. Was he in the shadowy part of the mind? “Stop!” The twins froze and looked at the willow. Had the tree just shouted at them? “Hello?” Prince called. “Leave me alone!” They knew that voice! The twins ran up to the tree and pushed the branches out of their way and froze. Fear was sitting up in the higher branches, hood pulled over his face and four spider legs springing from underneath his clothes. He looked down and six purple eyes lit up in the dark. “I said go!” he growled. A yellow snake slithered up from a hole in the tree wrapping itself protectively/comfortingly around his figure. “That is so cool!” Duke grinned getting himself a jab into the ribs from his brother. “Fear. We… We just wanted to know why you don’t want to be our friend. Did we do something?” Prince asked gently. “No! I’m keeping everyone safe. People who are nice to me get hurt.” “That isn’t true fear…” the snake hissed gently, surprising the twins. Fear glared at the snake. “Isn’t it Deceit?” he growled, making the snake recoil. “Thought so. Just… Go with them. I’ll be fine,” he muttered as he curled in on himself and wrapped his legs around himself like a cage. “That’s a lie. You aren’t fine,” Deceit objected. “Is he… Is this because we aren’t king?” Prince wondered nervously. For all his grandness he was terrified of falling short. He didn’t want to be less wonderful than this King person. If he wasn’t as good or better than the original, what was the point of him existing? “This has nothing you do with that! Just leave me alone!” Fear growled hiding in his hoodie. The snake sighed and came down, turning into a teen boy. Duke whistled impressed, while Prince looked away. Something about the scaled half of the boy's face made something in his gut twist. It felt like guilt. But he’d never met this side. What could he have done to feel this way? “Maybe you two have more luck,” Deceit muttered as he left the shelter of the Willow. “Finally,” Fear huffed. “Now if you two would kindly go back to the central consciousness and get back to work. Thomas needs you two too much for you to waste time on me.” Prince rolled his eyes. “As if. Logic is making homework and if we try to have fun now we’ll get yelled at.” That caught Fear’s attention. “You aren’t helping?” he asked confused. “Why would we? Homework is boring,” Prince scoffed as he put a hand on his hip and made a gesture with his other as if to indicate how obvious his statement was. “Yeah, we only ‘get in the way’,” Duke chipped in. Sounding like he was quoting Logic. Fear rolled his eyes. Honestly. “Have you not been listening to anything Morality’s been teaching you?” he asked. “I am a prince! I know good from bad!” Prince objected, sounding rather insulted. “Not about being moral… Has Logic been showing you around then?” Fear wondered. He had assumed Morality would take up the role of care taker. But maybe Logic had taken up the task of instructing the new sides in the ways of the mindscape? “Showing us around?” Duke wondered as he and his brother exchanged glances. “Wait… so they just… Expected you two to know what to do?” Fear asked shocked. “What is there to know? We are creativity. We found the imagination and that is that,” Prince huffed. Though he was intrigued by the idea of more, he wasn't going to admit to being I’ll informed. Fear jumped out of the tree and took them both in. “You’re not lying to get me to come back are you?” The confusion on the twin’s faces must’ve been enough. “Fine,” Fear surrendered grumpily as he started walking to the central conscience. “I’ll show you the basics, but then I’m kicking Logic’s behind in gear and heading back home.” The twins protested, but were secretly excited. They’d needed someone to actually break their ties when they disagreed. To actually listen to their stories and give input other than almost blind praise or cold analysis. Not to mention the fact that they had known him as a friend when they woke up while the others had been mostly strangers in their eyes. That had to mean something. Surely he was a fun playmate. When they saw the stress bunnies for the first time they were absolutely delighted to have something to hunt. And surely enough, Fear was enjoying himself too. Fear showed them how to make learning fun for Thomas and he even showed them that playing was more fun with others. And though he insisted he’d leave again soon, and avoided the others for a good while, he stuck around. Prince and Duke soon discovered just how far Fear was willing to go to keep them safe. During the first nightmare Fear encountered with them he defended them fiercely. Actually almost injuring himself. The twins were shocked by this and took better care to make sure Fear didn’t endanger himself for their sake again. “You aren’t really going back to the willow are you?” Prince asked one day, almost timidly, though he tried his best to sound casual. Fear shifted. The twins knew how to work with the others, they understood what to do with stress and worries and fears, they knew who to turn to when trouble arose… But he could find a million reasons not to leave them and he knew why. He had grown attached to them. He’d tried not to. It felt like a betrayal to King and he still worried he’d loose them right when he got comfortable with the new situation. But he couldn’t leave their side now. “Nah. I don’t trust you two not to burn down the mindscape without me keeping an eye on you,” he teased. Prince scoffed and gave him a push. Duke just shrugged, because honestly? He would definitely cause chaos and destruction if Fear didn’t redirect him every once in a while. Fear knew that if he was staying he should talk with Logic and Morality. “Padre! Teach! We got someone here who wants to talk to you,” Prince announced. The two sides turned and the twins made way to show Fear was with them greeting both sides with an awkward wave. Morality gasped and clasped his hands in front of his face. “Kiddo! Are… Are you back to stay?” he asked carefully. “I mean… I’ll stay out of the way if you want. I just… Yeah, I’m back. Those two need babysitting and neither of you are up to that it seems so…” He felt two fists push at his shoulders and chuckled. “You know I’m right,” he grinned. Then he looked up at the two sides he’d been rather rude to. “Listen, I’m still not happy about you guys not including everyone in the decision. But Princey and Duke don’t seem to be upset with you two. Not really, so I can’t be either. You tried to do what was best for Thomas. I can’t be mad about that. I just… I was afraid to let you guys back in I guess.” Fear couldn't meet their eyes. He was sure they hated him by now. He'd been pushing them away and…

Suddenly he was tackled in a hug by Morality.

“Oh kiddo. Of course you're welcome back!”

“Indeed. Though you might not have been talking to us, we have noticed your efforts. Or was I to believe that the twins suddenly got interested in assisting with schoolwork on their own?”

Fear shrugged as best as he could while still being embraced by the heart.

“From what I heard, yeah? I mean you guys seem to expect them to just know how things work.”

Logic nodded. “I see. Well we did attempt to explain at first, but we failed to communicate with the twins properly.” It had been puzzling to him why the twins couldn’t just follow his instructions. He would have to ask Fear what he’d done to get them suddenly interested in helping out. But almost overnight Logic had gone from overseeing the homework by himself to having two eager assistants making Thomas excited to learn again.

Morality finally let go and grinned up at him. “Guess a dad can sometimes learn a thing or two from his son,” he teased. Recalling how Prince had suddenly started to include his family and classmates in the stories he and Thomas made again. How Duke’s unfiltered curiosity started branching out to other people as well. How had Fear done that? Fear rolled his eyes. “Whatever short…” the teasing remark was cut off as Fear looked Morality up and down a few times. “Did you get taller?” he asked perplexed.

He was sure Morality used to be a head shorter than him. But now the difference was less than an inch.

“Um yeah. I guess…” Morality mused waving his hand above their heads in fascination. “I didn't really notice. Gosh. Maybe I’ll end up taller than you. Wouldn't that be something?” he chuckled.

Fear just shrugged dismissively.

“Nuh uh! We'll be the tallest!” Prince declared. “Just you wait!”

“Fear is going to be a midget forever though!” Duke chuckled.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Fear frowned.

In answer the twins flanked him and he could see they were both taller than him. Not by much, but enough that he couldn't deny it once he paid attention to it. Of course. Even when he was no longer the youngest he was destined to be the baby of the group. Well better remind the twins why he's called Fear then.

“You have five seconds,” he smirked.

“Huh?” Duke wondered.

“Four seconds, “ Fear grinned as his eyes lit up with a violet shine.

“Duke run!” Prince urged and the two took of. Fear chuckled for a few seconds before he let his spider voice echo through the mindscape. “One, Here I come.” And then he took off after the twins.

“He’s a little different isn't he?” Morality mused worriedly as he listened for the sounds in the mindscape, relieved to hear nothing but laughter fill the metaphysical air. Fear was just playing.

“As was to be expected. Fear held a strong attachment to king. More so than either of us. I don't think that I would've been able to convince him to help me stage a coup so to speak if it had come to that.

That loyalty and attachment has now transferred to the twins in some measure, but that does not replace what he had with King. The roles seem to have switched though. He is the caretaker now, though the twins seemed ready to fight on his behalf when they first formed…” Logic summarized looking into his notes. He’d been cataloguing the changes in the Thomasphere after the split and how they correlated to changes in Thomas’ over all wellbeing for future reference.

“They are more equal now,” Morality noted. “Fear wouldn't have dreamed to initiate such a game with King, or to say anything suggesting he needed help. I think… “ Morality frowned. There was no way to say this without sounding terrible. “They might both be happier like this. King… he would want this for Fear,” he decided. King cared for Fear almost as much as he cared for Thomas. It was out of concern for them that he’d asked them to do this. He might not have expected this outcome, but he would understand right?

“So long as the progress of the past week keeps up, Thomas will greatly benefit of the situation.” Logic supplied.

Morality let out a sigh. Thomas would be fine and Fear would fully forgive them with time. And then they could build on this new foundation. He would make sure his family stayed happy. That was his job. He was the dad after all.

It was only a matter of time before the twins would run into Deceit. Especially since the Dukes ideas were unpleasant to Thomas more often than not. Fear usually managed to get Duke to use his ‘inside voice’. Sometimes Prince would notice Fear was getting uncomfortable and reign his brother in. But that couldn’t last forever.

“What is going on here?” Deceit wondered as he walked in on the trio. Duke paused in his rambling and Prince looked up from where he and Fear were sitting on the ground, his arm around the nervous side’s shoulder while Fear had been curled up in a ball trying to block out the images Duke was planting in his head. Once he saw who it was though Prince looked down, he still didn’t like looking at that scaled face.

Fear looked up and went from comforted to comforting. He didn't know what happened, but he did know that for some reason king had changed Deceit and Prince had inherited some sort of phantom guilt.

“Snake-face hi!” Duke on the other hand found it amazing.

“You’re clearly the charmer of the two,” Deceit drawled. Fear was pretty sure that some of his change in attitude had to do with him spending so much time with Dee right after what everyone just called ‘the split’.

He had simply rubbed off on him. “Hi Dee,” Fear smiled tensely. “Fear, good to see you out and about,” Deceit smiled warmly. It was odd. When King first discovered Instinct, he’d been sure he wouldn’t like the new side. He didn’t like how excited King already was for a new friend. And by all accounts he should’ve stayed away from him, but he just couldn’t help but feel a bond with him. They both had a job that wasn’t particularly fun to do, both had parts of them the others disliked. And they both took King’s split hard. Not that he had told Fear of the latter. What was the point? And King hadn’t wanted Fear to know anyway.

“Yeah, I guess you were right. I couldn’t hide away forever,” Fear smiled tensely. “What seems to be the problem here?” Deceit wondered. Something had called him here after all. He knew he couldn’t avoid talking to the twins forever, but he had pretended he could. And now he had to make a stellar first impression. Great. “Oh… Did I do the thing again?” Duke wondered. He didn’t get why the others got upset over is suggestions so much, but they did and he tried to not be too much. But now he really was just having some fun. He wasn't saying Thomas should do anything. He was just making pictures.

Still, Fear was clearly upset. “It’s… It’s fine. You can’t always help it,” Fear assured him. Duke looked around and noticed an abundance of stress bunnies and kittens and puppies, most of them slightly more grotesque than Fear’s usual were. He liked it. But why hadn’t Fear gotten rid of them yet? It wasn’t like him to let them roam free for long.

“Want some help with those?” Deceit wondered as he gestured around. Fear looked at the dozens of creatures and let out a tired sigh. “I’ll get it. Just… I need a moment,” he muttered. “Very well. Duke was it?” Deceit asked. Duke nodded. “I need some help maintaining the Willow. Would you be so kind?” Fear frowned. What? Duke just jumped up with a big smile. “Of course double D!” he grinned. “Wonderful. Fear, Prince, you don’t mind if I borrow him for a couple of hours right?” he asked. Fear looked at Prince who just shrugged. “If he’s okay with it. But he will come back after right?” The prince asked tensely. “Of course. I’ll send him straight to the imagination even,” Deceit bowed before leaving, the Duke following right by his side, ranting about one thing or another. Fear looked at Prince. “You sure you are okay with this? You two haven’t been apart since… Well. Ever.” Prince shrugged again. “I… I think so. We don’t have to be together all the time right?” Fear shrugged. “I guess not,” he allowed. They weren’t one person anymore after all. Fear tried to remember that, but it was still strange sometimes. “I’m going to round up those guys,” he announced as he got up. Prince followed his example. “Want some help with that?” Fear hesitated, he didn’t usually ask anyone for help. The point was that he’d deal with them alone right? He'd just told Dee he could handle it… “Morality says that friends should be able to count on us to help them. So… I want to help,” Prince insisted. Fear smiled at that. “Yeah, sounds fun,” he allowed. As Deceit promised, Duke returned to the imagination after a few hours. All the shadow creatures had been dealt with and Duke was back to a level of crazy Fear could handle. Thomas had not been negatively affected by Dukes mood after he went to the back of the mind it seemed. The twins started going off on their own more often after that. Duke tended to venture to the willow to chat with Deceit for a while, while Prince remained on the front of the mind at all times. Fear wandered between the two. He couldn’t really handle not seeing either for too long. Still things started to get to a new sort of normal and Morality and Logic became more and more convinced every day that they’d done the right thing. Everyone was happier now. That’s what Morality thought, until he found Fear, sitting in a corner of the mind by himself. Which was unusual. “Heya kiddo. Where are the twins?” he wondered gently as he knelt down. He was a good inch taller than Fear by now. Which made Fear officially the shortest of the group, a fact the twins loved to tease him about. “Duke is at the willow and Prince is fighting a dragon or a witch, I don’t know,” Fear shrugged, his eyes shimmering. Had he been crying? “Ok… And why are you here all by yourself?” If Prince was fighting something, Fear would usually stick close by just in case. And sometimes that was indeed needed, though Morality and Logic both wondered if Prince occasionally just liked having Fear save him and fuss over him afterwards.

“I… It just hurt too much today,” he whispered, a sob breaking free. Morality felt a sharp pain in his chest. He knew what Fear meant and he couldn’t believe he never picked up on this. Of course spending time with the twins was hard on Fear. “Oh Kiddo… Do you want a hug?” Fear didn’t always allow physical affection. This time however he seemed to be really in need of some, because he almost immediately latched onto the fatherly side and started sobbing. “I care about them, I really do! But I miss him so much!” he tried to explain. “Of course. Loving them doesn’t take away how you felt about him. I think those feelings actually make each other stronger. Remember what he said? That it didn’t matter what name you used, you’d always be his friend? This is sort of like that,” Morality assured him. “I… I know… Most of the time. But sometimes I feel so bad for liking them, and then I feel bad about feeling bad…  What if that never stops? I don’t want to hurt them!” he pleaded “It’ll get better. There will be bad days, but it’ll get better. I miss him too. I know it wasn’t the same as it was for you. But he was important to me too.” “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean-” “No kiddo, that’s not what I meant. I was just trying to say that I understand. And I’m here to listen. Okay? Just come to your dear old dad whenever you need to okay? I’ve got you.” Fear let himself relax into the embrace and cry the tears he’d been holding back for months. He didn’t notice someone was watching them. Morality did though, and he tried not to let the accusatory glare get to him. Deceit could think of this what he wanted. Morality was just trying to look out for his kids. Things got a little better after that. Fear was more relaxed when hanging out in the back of the mind, the vague memories of being an incorporeal instinct not as haunting as they once had been. He got even bolder in his banter with the twins. He was also a bit more comfortable with letting them be without him from time to time. And he got a bit braver when it came to confronting the uglier parts of the past. “I’m just saying. If you ask them they’ll probably change you back,” he insisted as he laid down in the patch of grass underneath the willow. The twins were doing a school project with Logic and he had chosen to catch up with Deceit who still didn’t come up to the central consciousness except to retrieve Duke when needed.

“I don’t want them to change me back Fear, drop it.” “Then why are you hiding away all of the time?” Fear countered. “I know Princey is kinda awkward around you, but that won't get better if he never gets to know you. And the others will warm up to you. I'll have your back remember? No matter what happened between you and him, the twins deserve a chance don't they?” Fear pointed out. Deceit sighed. “I suppose you have a point… And Duke isn’t horrible company,” he allowed. Fear smiled and they both started debating over something Thomas' teacher did that week. The subject laid at rest. Deceit never did ask the twins to return his face to normal. He felt it was fitting honestly. A permanent warning to everyone of what he was. Princey slowly relaxed around Deceit as the later visited the central consciousness more often. And once again things in the mindscape improved.

[consumeconstantly]

Small Buff Girl Sightings ch. 3

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3 

Marinette wonders when she got used to the crushing weight of expectations that had been imposed upon her by the Powers That Be. She also wonders when she got used to being lonely. These are two separate events, she’s fairly sure, but it isn’t like she keeps a diary anymore. She has long since fallen out of that habit, because she doesn’t want another Sabrina incident. With the class the way it is now, she can’t even fathom how much damage her diary could bring to her classmates, and likely, the whole of Paris. Because for some reason, Hawkmoth has some sort of a vendetta against her class.

Which is the whole reason why she didn’t transfer out of Mademoiselle Bustier’s class in the first place. Sure, she tried for the first few months to expose Lila and get things back to the status quo, but Marinette can only try and fail so many times before getting tired of her classmate’s willful ignorance. Then, she stayed in class for Adrien. Such a sweet, misguided boy. Marinette wonders how he would have turned out if his father was less of an asshole, or if his mother were still around. No use crying over spilled milk; she still feels bad for him, but she’s no longer staying in class for him. Her crush on Adrien is a thing of the past. 

As it is currently, Mlle. Bustier’s class simply provides the most excellent cover for all of her escapades and an excellent vantage point to see what the next akuma might be. 

After all, their class encompasses both the people who are most often akumatized-- minus Monsieur Ramier and Augustine-- and the people who are most likely to cause somebody’s akumatization. These are the usual suspects:

Chloe, who has admittedly improved her attitude after reconciling with her mother, but still doesn’t know how to deal with people like an ordinary person would. 

Lila, whose lies and half truths have ended more than one person’s dreams (as well as her own penchant to get akumatized willingly, but that hasn’t happened often after the first year, and Marinette doesn’t really want to go into that).

Adrien, who never intends to get anybody akumatized, but ends up doing so when the media catches him doing anything. Because everything he does gets covered by the media heavily. So when he goes out with friends and is mistaken for having a lover, there are a lot of angry fangirls who get akumatized.

Oh, and then there’s Marinette herself. She’s honestly not sure how or why so many people around her end up getting akumatized-- maybe she takes other people’s luck in exchange for having an abundance of her own-- but there’s certainly quite a number.

And if she’s talking about family relations, this class takes the cake too. Adrien’s father lashes out at his employees so often that Marinette is surprised that all his workers haven’t quit yet. Gabriel’s attitude has also convinced Marinette that she never wants to work at the man’s self-named brand. Mayor Bourgois and Audrey Bourgeois are both… frightening in their own ways. Both can end careers easily, but Audrey definitely goes about ending careers in a more harmful way. Juleka’s mom pisses off anybody who tries to come down the Seine; numerous akumas have appeared in response to her loud music blasting at all times of the day. And Ivan’s parents? Sweethearts, but both are so sensitive that their family is a prime target for Hawkmoth. 

She wonders when the new boy, Damian, will get akumatized. She doesn’t think-- hopes-- that he won’t, but with the track rate of their classmates, it was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t. So far, Marinette and Adrien have been the only ones in the class who haven’t been, including the series of brief transfers to their classes last year. Maybe he’ll be another to add to their number. And Marinette and Adrien both moonlight as superheroes. There’s probably some Miraculous magic involved, but Marinette’s not entirely sure. Master Fu doesn’t have answers for many of the questions that Marinette asks.

Damian seems like a decent person with a good head on his shoulders. Marinette hopes that he transfers away from this class soon, because she would feel awful if he does end up getting caught up with her classmate’s delusional version of reality. Because even though Lila has calmed down a lot and no longer tells such outlandish tales as she did in her first year at Francois Dupont, everyone else still follows her so mindlessly that it isn’t a healthy relationship for anyone involved. Marinette is almost certain that there are multiple people in the class that must know Lila was lying but now perpetuate this twisted version of reality because they’re afraid. Ninth and tenth year were important; if Lila really did lie about all of her connections, that means they messed their own futures up and need to work on themselves to fix it--something that is difficult to admit and commit to matter what age a person is. To admit that they did something wrong and take steps to fix it-- Marinette doesn’t think any of her classmates have that kind of mindset. After all, if anyone else had guts, there’s no way that Chloe would have been class president for as long as she was.

 Lunch comes around quickly, and Damian manages to catch her on her way out, grabbing and holding her forearm. Marinette is cautious, making sure that none of Lila’s lackeys are around. Despite her agreement with Lila, her classmates tend to make everything a much bigger deal than it should be, and they always tell Lila whenever Marinette steps so much as a foot out of line. Lila doesn’t always act on her classmates' words, but when there are too many voices that say that Marinette is doing something wrong, Lila has to act; if she doesn’t, she’s at risk of losing her position of power. Once Marinette is sure there is no one from Mlle. Bustier’s class watching, she pulls Damian with her to an alleyway a short ways away from her family’s bakery.

“I’m telling you again. You really don’t want to be seen with me.” 

“If you think I care about Lila, you’re mistaken. I will be seen with who I want to be seen with.” 

Marinette’s hand is warm and calloused. Her fingertips are extra soft, like she takes care to moisturize them more than the rest of her hand. 

The alleyway is surprisingly nice. Much nicer than any alleyway that Damian would find in Gotham, that’s for certain. It doesn’t have any blood stains and there are no crazy psychos hiding in the shadows. Instead, sunlight is let through the shorter of the two buildings, only five stories. Sure, the place smells slightly of urine and trash and there’s broken bottles everywhere, but that is par for the course for any major city.

Marinette’s not sure why Damian seems to be going out of his way to talk to her. She’s seen him interact with the other students, and he was positively stoic with them. His words are still clipped when he’s talking to her, but at least he speaks full sentences.

“It’ll be bad for your social health if you keep trying to talk to me.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t believe I ever asked for you to look after my social health, and I certainly don’t want  to talk to the idiots in that class.”

“I don’t think you understand, Damian. You might not mind being alone, but being lonely is different. It feels bad, and Hawkmoth will take advantage of you.” Marinette knows what being lonely is like, because despite her loving parents and all of her friends that she’s made outside of school in the past two years, before that, her world was limited. Sometimes, she wishes that some magical being came with Miraculous. Someone that she can actually talk to about all of her problems, both hero-related and those in her everyday life. As it is, Marinette never talks about what she does as Ladybug, unless she’s referring to herself in the third person and is forced to. Marinette doesn’t need people trying to figure out she is Ladybug, and despite Master Fu’s assurances that people without a Miraculous will never, ever catch on, she prefers to err on the side of caution. And as Ladybug, she only ever talks to Chat Noir, never deigning to talk about her personal life because it will be way too easy for Adrien to make the jump between her everyday problems and Marinette, because Adrien is a Miraculous user, and the Identity Concealment magic supposedly is less effective between Miraculous users. 

“I don’t believe we’ve interacted enough for you to judge my mental fortitude. Besides, you might have told me to avoid you, but I never agreed.” 

The former part of Damian’s statement isn’t true, but Damian doesn’t know that. As a superhero, Marinette needs to know how to judge people quickly and effectively. She’s read plenty of books on psychology and body language, clocked endless hours of videos on the subject. There’s also the matter of her bountiful personal experience, what with figuring out the issues of the ever increasing number of akumas that pop up around the city. Still, it isn’t like Marinette can actively refute his statement. 

For a while, the two of them stand in contemplative silence. 

“Fine, then, I’ll tell you why you need to avoid me. We might as well get out of this alleyway, though.” Marinette eyes the dumpster that stands a few meters away from them.

“And here I thought you were fond of alleyways,” Damian says, in reference to the first time they met.

She laughs, and it feels good. Marinette hasn't laughed in quite some time. Lately, her parents are always busy. They want to expand their patissiere by opening a second branch. That means they don’t have much family time, and when they do, it’s typically spent talking shop. Manon has continued in her bratty toddler stage, and the rest of the kids that she babysits are in a similar state. Uncle Jagged and Aunt Penny are still touring, bringing Luka around for the ride, Kagami’s currently in intensive training for the World Cup, and she simply hasn’t had enough time to see any of her other friends.

“I’d like to think that I'm more fond of my parents' macarons, than I am of alleyways.” Marinette leads him through the other end of the alleyway and through a few streets to get to the back entrance that leads directly to their house instead of the bakery. At least since Maman and Papa are so busy with business, she never needs to talk about her friends in school, or lack thereof.

#

“Let me get this straight,” Damian says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You had four transfers last year and each of them ended up as akumas multiple times because of her lies, students who don’t believe her get expelled, suspended, or bullied, and the teacher and school refuse to do anything about it?”

“Well, Principal Damocles refuses to do anything; Mlle. Bustier believes her.” Marinette sips the cup of hot cocoa she prepared and lounges on her chaise. She doesn’t bother saying that all the transfers occurred in a six month period, after which Lila let up on her tyranny and turned into an average albeit still incredibly charismatic teen. Neither does she bother mentioning that Lila doesn’t lie anymore-- at least, not any big ones-- and has stopped getting herself willingly akumatized. She’s trying to get Damian to transfer out, after all. 

“That’s even worse. They’re useless.”

“It depends on your point of view. They’re very useful if you’re Lila or the rest of the class.”

Damian swivels the chair so he’s facing Marinette in her entirety. “How have you managed three years with that orange demon? Better question, why have you not transferred?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” It’s not like Marinette can tell him the real reason why she’s staying in the class. That’s why she hasn’t told her parents about all of this. If they knew, they would definitely make her transfer classes, if not schools.

“That is no good reason for me to continue to stay with her group. I hate lying manipulators.” Damian’s mother is a good example.

“You might hate them, but if you can’t beat them and you can’t leave, you have to join them, or at least make a truce. And there’s no way Lila is going to give you up.”

“I really should just transfer.”

“I agree whole-heartedly. Please do.”

“But I can’t. My father won’t arrange a transfer for me. He wants me in that class.” More accurately-- Damian knows how many akumas came out of that class, and there is no way that he’s going to transfer away from it. It’s easier to figure out a game plan if he’s able to watch the action.

“I could arrange a transfer for you, if you want.”

“No, that’s too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, and if it helps one person by preventing them from getting akumatized, that’s great.”

“Why can’t you just expose her?” Damian counters.

“Tried that two years ago. Failed. Miserably. I almost got expelled.” She tactfully leaves out the fact that Lila also got her back in school. After years of making up excuses for where she’s been when an akuma attack calls her away, she’s gotten very skillful at lies by omission. Besides, if they’re to help someone, that’s okay, right? 

“If you can’t expose her then how are you going to get me transferred out?”

“Those are two separate issues. I might not be able to persuade a classroom that’s very interdependent on their relations with each other, but I was class president for two years, so I know people.” 

Damian decides to revise his tactics. “I don’t back down from a challenge. Besides, I want to see her empire crumble.”

The last part isn’t true. He cares little for the Italian girl, even less for their other classmates. People like Lila are alarmingly common when you run in the circles of the rich and powerful, and there are certainly people whose charisma is infinitely more dangerous. Lex Luthor, for instance. He shakes off thoughts of the dangerous business man. Damian needs to stay in this class because it’s the best lead that he’s got right now. He’s trying to be as covert as possible, under League request. Apparently, the Justice League of America isn’t supposed to interfere with what’s going on in Europe unless they call in for help. Damian thinks that’s a stupid rule-- in the end, they’re all just trying to protect the world-- but he agreed to secrecy and keeping his head down when accepting the mission. That means he’s not suddenly going to start asking his classmates about akumas unless they’re brought up in conversation. Unnecessary suspicion is a bad thing in this instance.

He takes another bite of the pastry that Marinette brought up for him. It’s much better than a lot of the other vegan options he’s found in Paris-- not that there are many to begin with. Everything in this damn city is made with butter or cheese. There is a lull in the conversation, and then, “She has no reason to hold on to me. I’ll just stay with you, in the back of the class.”

Marinette laughs at this.

“Lila isn’t going to let you go.”

“What do you mean by that? She let you go.” Damian almost feels like he should be affronted at some of the statements that Marinette has made. He feels like she doesn’t appreciate or know how capable he is. It feels weird to have somebody not hold him to the impossibly high pedestal of a genius billionaire’s son. Now that he’s with Marinette, he’s glad that the Justice League sent him under a different last name. He can only imagine the chaos that it would have caused when he arrived.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “She didn’t willingly let me go. She only did because I was constantly undermining her, though unsuccessfully. And besides, there’s a very big difference between the two of us.”

“I’m very capable at undermining people.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Marinette snorts. Damian Grayson is quite the character. They’ve met in the oddest of situations each time. At first, she thought he might be a stalker, but after getting to know Damian a little better, Marinette believes that it’s coincidence-- there’s no way that someone with as much pride as Damian would go out of his way to follow a mere girl. If he wanted to go out with someone, he’d simply demand it. “But the key difference is our gender. Lila Rossi may be bisexual, but her desired gender of arm candy is male. I’m sure you’ve seen her with Adrien. The blonde one?”

At Damian's nod, Marinette continues. “Don’t get your ego even more inflated, but you are good looking. You’re Lila’s type. Tall, muscular, green eyed. You’re the perfect balance to Adrien’s sunshine demeanor. Besides, she can’t have a girl with self-confidence within her circle,  so there was no way that we could have peacefully coexisted in the same group to begin with.”

Marinette’s comment about his appearance makes him feel an unexpected shock of pleasure. He knows he’s good looking. All of the Wayne kids are. He’s gotten enough compliments on his appearance to last him ten lifetimes. But knowing that Marinette finds him attractive feels different. She doesn't seem to be the type to exaggerate, and has a good objective eye for beauty.

“Yes, she already has Adrien. She doesn’t need me as well.”

“Greed never stops.” Marinette finishes her cup of hot cocoa and now stares at her ceiling, then at the wall opposite her, covered in fabric and design sketches. It seems like it was only yesterday when the walls of her bedroom were filled with the countless modelling endeavors of one Adrien Agreste. Now, there are very few pictures of him at all. She wishes that she got to hang out with him more, civilian to civilian. 

When she figured out that Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir were the same, it was a day for the record books. She had so much emotional whiplash that day that it still gives her nausea just thinking about it. Marinette figures that it is a good thing she found out when she did, otherwise she might have continued with her crush on him and would have ended up pointlessly heartbroken. She still loves him, just not the way lovers do. Marinette also suspects that Adrien himself is not looking for a relationship of any sort besides friendship. He’s been more tense in recent months, and Chat Noir confessed that people touching him made him uncomfortable.

Marinette wants nothing more but to rip Adrien from Asshole Gabriel’s hands. But she can’t, because Marinette doesn’t have the trust of Adrien Agreste. Not in the capacity that she needs him to. Not in the capacity that will allow her to unseat Gabriel as she so desperately wishes to. If Ladybug entrusted Marinette to help Adrien out, there is no doubt that Adrien would figure out her alter ego, and that is dangerous knowledge. Especially since he is so tense with everything else going on in his life. It’s a recipe for a powerful akuma and the horrifying possibility of Hawkmoth learning her civilian identity. Ever since retiring the other heroes, Marinette knows that she can’t afford to have Chat Noir or Adrien akumatized. She’s certain that she can beat him in either form, but on the off chance that Hawkmoth decides on a mass akumatization, she can’t beat them all. She’s just not strong enough, no matter how many hours she trains and no matter how many times she takes down baddies in her civilian form.

“So what, I should just let her put her hands all over me?”

That… admittedly sounds unpleasant. Marinette isn’t sure what Adrien and Lila have going on, but Marinette knows that they’re not actually in a relationship. She’s fairly sure that Adrien and Lila have stuck some sort of deal on their own, but she’s not close enough to ask Adrien, and she’s definitely not going to ask Lila. Still, when Marinette addressed her concerns with Lila’s touchy tendencies, Adrien gave her a weak smile and said that that was just part of Lila’s nature. He implied that he dealt with worse, which made Marinette worried to hell and back, but ultimately Adrien convinced Marinette that touching him was not done with ill intent by Lila and that her touch warded off other people’s interest. He promised that he was fine, and that he would tell Marinette if he was really uncomfortable. So Marinette let sleeping dogs lie, because despite her initial animosity towards Lila, she was good at manipulating attention away from Adrien whenever he was having a particularly bad day.

“I told you, I can get you transferred out.” 

“And I told you that I never back down from a challenge.”

“Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“I suppose we are.” 

Marinette’s phone alarm goes off, and she jumps from her chaise. “We’ve got to get back to school. Class starts in five. You go first, I’ll clean up.”

“I am not a rude houseguest.”

“Well, I don’t want to be seen with you in school, so leave.” Marinette’s sudden burst of rudeness is unlike her, but she chalks it down to her deep-rooted desire for Damian not to end up like the four transfers last year. She keeps in contact with some of them still, and not all of them are doing all too well. Marinette really doesn’t want Damian to end up like that.

Damian’s mouth sets itself into a thin line. “Fine then, have it your way. Give me your phone number.”

A shrug. “If that’s what it’ll take for you to leave me alone during school.”

And then, Damian is off.

#

4:50PM | Unknown number: I’m testifying next Thursday.

4:55PM | Marinette: Damian?

Damian: Yes.

Marinette: oh

Marinette: me too

Marinette: i’m going to visit renee tomorrow

4:58PM | Damian: I’ll come with you. I’ll meet you at your parent’s bakery after school.

6:42PM | Marinette: uh

Marinette: how about that alleyway instead

Damian: If I must.

#

Marinette doesn’t really know what to make of Damian. The first time she meets him, she almost thinks he is another stalker. Almost, but not quite; he looks far too reluctant to be following her and looks too unfamiliar with the streets that they were going down to have done this before. Still, she doesn’t want to take any chances, so she makes quick work of her first stalker and immediately gets on the phone with the police, leaving her stalker in the alley despite her normal protocol to stay with the criminal until the police get there. She makes an exception for this, because even from a distance, the second person following her looks much more dangerous than the first, and she doesn’t want to fight with someone who’s bigger than her in a place that’s hard to run away in. 

When he appears near the alleyway he seems annoyed, then relieved and surprised when he sees the body in the alleyway. Like it was something he didn’t want to deal with.

When she brushes past him, there isn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes. Nothing except for surprise, and maybe a little bit of admiration. A raised eyebrow, saying, really? This short little girl just beat a man twice her size up? 

She ends up in violent altercations as a civilian on an almost regular basis. According to one of her stalkers, she was just so friendly. Clearly she wanted to go out with him. It’s her fault for coming onto him. When she isn’t fending off creepy men whose profiles were nearly all the same-- five to ten years older than her, with some sort of fetish for asian women (she shudders at the thought of being called exotic)-- she does her duty as a plain-clothes hero. Because her conscience will never let her get away with walking away from an instance that might end up harming someone else. Marinette feels an overwhelming sense of responsibility. She won’t forgive herself for not protecting the weak. 

#

The next time she meets him, she’s surprised that he actually approaches her and asks if she needs help. He clearly doesn’t actually want her to take him up on the offer, so she immediately turns him down. Marinette isn’t sure why he feels so compelled to offer his help when he clearly didn’t want to but-- oh merde. The class is going to leave her behind again if she doesn’t run and try to catch the bus now. She can take the metro, but she is short on the amount she needs to get all the way home. Marinette is also unwilling to turn into Ladybug, because Ladybug only ever shows up on night patrols and when there’s an akuma, and she doesn’t want to send Parisians into a mass panic.

Despite his obvious unwillingness, she reneges on her words and asks him to watch over the thief. He seems more at ease with it than she expected. Maybe he really had meant his offer. Weird. She is usually pretty good at reading people. Why can’t she get a good read on this guy?

His posture, too, is more at ease than she would expect of any civilian. Usually, if she ever asks somebody to watch over somebody she’s detained, they’re nervous and a little jumpy. Their hands are glued to their phone, ready to make a call if the slightest thing goes wrong. But this guy is relaxed and confident. Just the way he’s standing screams of years of training, in fighting and possibly in etiquette. Maybe he comes from some high class family.

She doesn’t have time to contemplate why and where and how. She just leaves him.

#

Then he comes in like a ghost, when she’s helping poor Nicolette. Somehow, Marinette knows this voice, this step pattern. She only needs a single glance up to confirm her beliefs. It’s the guy she keeps seeing around town. 

Despite her initial impression that he wasn’t dangerous, she still takes the proper measures to protect herself, just in case. She can never be too sure in situations like these, and although he has been nothing but helpful, she doesn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of one of his punches. He looks like an athlete. Long, lean muscle. Dangerous too, if his eyes are anything to go by.

They’re dark green and calculating. He’s gone through Things. Marinette can almost guarantee that the guy has encountered at least a few life-threatening situations. 

She wonders how it is that he only ever seems to appear once she’s done with whatever issue she’s dealing with. Is he stalking her to see the extent of her abilities? Is he trying to make her let her guard down? Something about him makes Marinette anxious. He looks like he wants to tear her apart to see her inner workings. To figure her out. He makes Marinette feel like he’s always on the verge of finding out her biggest secret, and she hates it. 

Still, he makes for a pretty reliable cleanup partner. She doesn’t think that she would trust a regular civilian to keep watch over any person she thought was dangerous. Fraser is just a little too dangerous for Marinette to consider leaving alone in the street. She certainly would not have passed his care to any regular stranger. 

But Nicolette is clearly in need of comfort, and Damian looks like he can take care of himself and any trouble that comes his way. Which makes Marinette even more wary of him. Would she be able to beat him in her civilian form? She is certain that she could if he is just some common street thug-- she’s taken down people bigger than him-- but she gets the foreboding feelings that he is more than that.

#

It’s almost comforting to see Damian’s reaction to Ladybug and the akuma. He looks equal parts confused and awe struck. There is a touch of cynicism in there, for sure, a little bit of disbelief, but somehow, it lets Marinette breathe a temporary sigh of relief. 

He doesn’t know what is going on in Paris. He doesn’t know her-- either side of her. And it is going to stay that way. 

#

Of course it doesn’t stay that way. Marinette uses up all of her luck during her time as Ladybug, so the person who is currently at the top of her Avoid list shows up to her school as the American transfer. Of course he decides to sit next to her. She bemoans the loss of her blessedly empty desk. Damian is taller and larger than most boys their age, but he sits far enough away from her. 

That’s a good sign. He’s not going out of his way to touch her or make contact with her. Maybe this whole thing is just a coincidence. Please, let this whole thing be just a coincidence

Then he starts talking to her, and of course he notices the whole thing with Lila, how can he not? She didn’t make a wrong judgement on his level of perceptiveness. Great. That is one thing she would have gladly lost a bet on. Now, she has to deal with possible ramifications of Damian, six foot Adonis, not wanting to get along with Lila. Lila will not like this. Marinette knows exactly what she wants in her little circle: attractive boys and girls that are less pretty or less confident than her. People who are easily controlled by promises and tall tales. And although Damian only fits one of those categories, he will undoubtedly be on her shopping list. 

After their awful first year together, Lila proposed a truce of sorts. They could either try being friends or they could stay out of each other’s ways. Lila wouldn’t actively bully Marinette, and Marinette wouldn’t actively try to expose her. 

She can feel Lila’s eyes on her. Green. It seems like everybody and anybody who brought her trouble nowadays had green eyes. Tonight, she’ll throw out all the green items that she owns. Marinette doesn’t need any more bad luck around her.

#

 They return from lunch, and Marinette prays to every God whose name she knows that he is no longer sitting in the back seat. That Lila successfully swept him up. 

Of course she hasn’t. Damian’s too smart for his own damn good. Which means that she needs to start preparing for the consequences of the inevitable fallout. She really doesn’t want Damian to turn into an akuma. She’s pretty good at telling which people will be more powerful (devastating? devastating.) in their akumatized forms than others, and she’s pretty sure that Damian would round out her top five, alongside Adrien, her Maman, her cousin, Bridgette, and herself. People who have more control over themselves are that much scarier when they fall apart. 

#

This time, Damian shows up before things are completely settled, and she’s thankful for it. 

If she wants to build a case against this woman, she does not need accusations of her own violence levelled against her. Thus, Marinette had been almost entirely ready and willing to feel the woman’s slap, maybe even her nails cutting through her skin. None of that matters, though. Not in comparison to Renee’s future.

In Renee, Marinette can see a lot of Adrien. He is blonde, is soft spoken from what little she’s seen of him, and lives firmly under a rich and manipulative parent’s thumb. Even though he’s scared of getting hit by his mom, Marinette can feel, instinctively, that if she hits the woman back, not only will she be in trouble with the case, she will also have scared Renee. 

Damian steps in at exactly the right time, and leaves her free to call the police. 

Though he’s quiet throughout the ride to the station, she does see him look at the little boy in concern. Other than that, he seems curious. A little child-like, even. His eyes are darting around the inside of the cruiser. It’s almost comical. Maybe he’s scared of being in the back of the police car, but she can’t find it in her to bring out a laugh. Not when Renee is on her lap. Not when she can feel his tears through her shirt and his soft little hiccups. Marinette hates that woman. Hates her so much. Hates Gabriel, too.

Marinette is focusing more on Renee and the woman more than Damian, but when she does spare him a glance, he seems unsure. Discomfited. Maybe he wants to reassure Renee that it will be alright. 

She has been preparing for a situation in which she can take Gabriel to court for almost an entire year now. Despite this, Marinette still pulls out her phone and checks a few websites to make sure that all of the information she has is correct.  Damian pulls out his phone too, though he’s just fiddling with it so his hands have something to do. 

By the time Marinette breaks past the woman’s painfully bad facade of being a good parent, Marinette feels her blood boiling. She knows that she is not immune to being akumatized, and is very glad that it’s highly unlikely Hawkmoth sends out another akuma today. 

It hurt a little when she first discovered that she could be akumatized. She was thirteen, Ladybug, and invincible. Then, she was thirteen, Marinette, and scared. Despite the situation at the time, Marinette could never bring herself to fully hate Lila. In part, because she believed--and still believes-- that Adrien is at least partially right. She sees it, periodically. How lonely Lila is behind her lies and friendships. Marinette doesn’t know what the girl is missing, and she doesn’t particularly care to know, but Lila is young and immature and has time to shift her course. And after their truce, Lila backed down a lot. Her lies are soft, now. Quiet. Most times nonexistent. She doesn’t need to do much to manipulate the class into loving her because she laid down all the groundwork during that first, horrible year.

But Marinette feels entitled to be angry at these parents who treat their children like they are nothing more than tools. Like they are subhuman. Maybe some parents can’t love their children-- she understands that to some extent-- and maybe they can’t be with them all the time. However, if love isn’t possible, they should still treat their child with the basic courtesy of human decency. And there is a point where neglect turns into abuse. Marinette knows that-- sees that with Adrien and Gabriel-- all too well. 

Marinette is glad that all of her previous encounters with criminals taught her to record from the moment she interferes. She is glad that she sprung for a phone with extra amounts of storage. Her palms are hot and trembly, but her head is cold. She feels a twisted sense of accomplishment wrenched from her gut as she watches Renee’s mother flee from the room. 

It is in this cold daze that she finds herself outside with Damian. Alone together, again. And he asks her about Lila, and she doesn’t want to deal with whatever dangers Damian brings with him. She’s had to fight off an akuma, deal with an absolute horror of a woman, and when she goes home, she will have to finish a commission and study for a test tomorrow. Damian is an unnecessary complication. 

Somehow, her life has become a never ending cycle. At least she will sleep better at night knowing that Renee is in better hands.

[itsapapisongo]

“WEBBED SURVEILLANCE”

Pairing: None, though I won’t blame you for any spotting Ho-Yay banter/interactions.

Genre: Superhero | Comedy | One-Shot

Word Count: 2.0K

Warnings: Language

Summary: An exasperated Spider-Man (Mark Lee) trails the elusive Black Cat (Lee Taeyong) across town, hoping to knock some sense into the master thief.

Notes: This was supposed to be the first of a series of one-shots focused on original characters face-claimed by several members—from NCT to Stray Kids to SEVENTEEN—but I decided to drop the whole face-claim thing and simply go full what if x member was a superhero route instead. A choice that is partly inspired by @vernosaur​ and her awesome fic Playing Hero.

Edited: 20.09.25 (last update ) | 20.12.06 (recent update)

HE had planned to land on the floor, but it was already occupied.

“Oi!” Spider-Man exclaimed, his voice a nervous, high-pitch. “Nope!”

In the nick of time, without missing a beat and with superhuman ease, he performed an in-air flip and clung to the ceiling, arms extended to either side of his body as though to maintain balance. He didn’t need to be so theatrical but he had been caught off guard. Ignoring a reaction as visceral as this one had become harder and harder to contain; more often than not, sheer instinct kicked in and he just went with it.

Spider-Man stared in disbelief at four of the ugliest Komodo dragons he had ever laid eyes on and they glared back at him, thin tongues slithering in and out of their snouts. He could hear them hissing—or snarling, he couldn’t tell—and gulped, shocked at how late he had come to notice them. A tingling sensation notified him of potential danger but he hadn’t imagined it would be a quartet of monitor lizards casually dragging themselves on such a small apartment.

He’d set up his phone and laptop to monitor emergency channels, in hopes that it would direct him to where he could make a difference. Robberies, fires, break-ins, super villains being up to no good was what he had in mind but apparently the universe had other plans for him. And so, in a matter of minutes, a routine night of surveillance turned into a bizarre chase across the city. He had been swinging non-stop for the past hour and half, chasing the elusive Black Cat across town, mumbling to himself that he probably shouldn’t have made such a dynamic entrance in Inner Demons territory.

You gotta time your quips, man, he scolded himself when everyone hauled ass in different directions and he lost sight, albeit briefly, of the Cat. The master thief had connections with just about everyone in the crooked lane that was Enn City. Following the guy meant getting in a heap of trouble but that was already part of the job so what the hell, right? He just hadn’t considered Komodo dragons to be part of the equation.

The chase led him to the shady part of town, where the properties looked ancient and in need of a new coat of paint, and into the lost (apartment-sized) world of Komodo Land. The Black Cat had been quick to find and subsequently hide in this narrow, five-story monstrosity that oozed with not-so-chill vibes and shamelessly overpriced and claustrophobically small apartments. It reeked of neglect, nicotine, and chemicals, as though it had been repurposed for some clandestine drug operation.

Spider-Man wondered if it had been a deliberate ploy to distract him. After all he had checked the lobby and the first floor and found no sign of the master thief. What he’d found instead, much to his disgust, was the stench of the dragons’ dinner, excrement, and urine.

Just my luck, he thought, crawling across the ceiling and scanning the rest of the apartment: the door had been left ajar and there was nothing but a bucket and a mop by a corner. The pungent smell stung his nostrils even through his mask and he resisted the urge to gag by clearing his throat. One of the Komodo dragons stared, as though it could see right through him. Big bioluminescent green eyes stared back and narrowed until becoming thin slits of contempt and disgust. Behind the mask, Spider-Man cringed.

Who knew something could smell so bad?

“Good Lord,” he whispered, gently shaking his head. “You guys should think about cleaning after yourselves.”

As he shifted his weight and positioned himself to face the door, crawling slowly toward it, he saw it. A shadowy figure in the hallway outside the apartment. The figure moved itself with grace and purpose and just enough that Spider-Man caught a glimpse of his face in the dim-light of the hallway. Aware of the now incessant hissing—or snarling, Spidey still couldn’t tell—of the lizards, the figure turned toward the half-opened door then dashed into the hall.

Pushing himself off the ceiling and clinging to the door, not trusting his new Komodo besties to not take a chunk out of him, he peered into the narrow hallway and saw the Black Cat running toward the elevator. Spider-Man gracefully leapt off the door and slammed it shut behind him because there was no way in hell he was going to leave those beasts out of there.

Who waits for an elevator while they’re being chased?

Spider-Man groaned and shook his head.

The chase was on—again.

ALRIGHT, folks, let’s do this one last time.

His real name is Mark Lee.

He was bitten by a radioactive spider—or at least, he thinks it was radioactive—and for the last year and half he’s been Spider-Man. By chance, fate, or design, he’d been bitten. Just like his idol: Peter Parker, the original Spider-Man. Mark would love to call himself the One and Only Spider-Man but knows it would be a lie and disrespectful to Parker. So, in a town as big and as shady as Enn City, Mark did what he could and took up the mantle, making it his mission to live up to his idol’s example and use his powers for the greater good.

The encounter made him superhuman, granting him spider-like abilities. He can leap great distances, cling to almost any surface, and sense when something is about to threaten him, allowing him to avoid and react to danger with ease in the blink of an eye. The bite not only made him quicker on his feet but it granted him superhuman strength, stamina, reflexes, as well as enhancing other skills, such as his balance and dexterity, that he’d honed over the years as an athlete. Physical education was certainly less of a hassle after that.

The suit—black and green—represents his passion and ambition and paid homage to the original Web-Slinger by keeping the same spider symbol upon his chest and back; the web-shooters, designed by Joshua Hong and Moon Taeil, make it easier for him to move across the city and enable him to snare criminals; and the mask offers anonymity, protection, and comfort, a way to fight crime and keep his life as boring as it always has been.

Being a hero was no easy feat. Mark is aware of this. He does his very best to kick ass and take names. Life has meaning, even if it includes being pounded into the ground and fighting guys in colorful suits that possess, whether innate or manufactured, unique abilities that rival his own. New threats crawl out of the woodwork but he’s ready for all of them. Because he’s Spider-Man and it’s his duty to kick ass and keep people safe.

But sometimes, no matter how cool it might feel, being Spider-Man can be exhausting.

THE Black Cat was fast.

Not Quicksilver fast, but definitely-athlete-fast. Like, come to think of it, track-star fast. He moved with such complete control of his body that for a second Mark felt jealous of his flexibility. He dashed and shouldered a door open at the end of the corridor, promptly disappearing through it. Just then, as if on cue, the elevator binged itself open. It was empty. Obviously. The Cat had no plans on waiting for it and had been a last second attempt to lose his pursuer.

Mark sprinted after him and launched himself forward with a leap that had him cling to the ceiling then bounced on a wall and thrust himself toward the exit the Cat had improvised for himself. He noticed that the master thief’s choice of exit was the emergency staircase. Instead of descending, the Cat ascended not by foot but via grappling gun. Seconds before he was propelled upward, they came face-to-face.

The Web-Slinger, albeit reluctantly, admitted the elusive and perpetually frustrating thief was quite the looker—even if a good part of his face was still concealed by the domino mask-like goggles he was wearing. The lenses were pristine and made his eyes visible: one was dark, the other bright blue. His complexion was pale, his hair a mess of red and white. When he smirked he came across as both charming and devious, a strange mix that only added to his allure.

You seriously gotta focus, the Web-Slinger scolded himself. There’s no time for man-crushes.

In the blink of an eye, the Black Cat was whisked away and the sound of the line echoed in the empty staircase.

Seriously?

“Son of a—hey—that’s cheating!” Mark exclaimed as he leapt on the stair’s railing then aimed his web-shooter at the Cat’s feet. “Gotcha!”

Only he didn’t. The webs flew past the Cat’s head and attached themselves to the railing three stories up. Spider-Man groaned, shook his head, and released the weblines. He cracked his neck and knuckles, inhaled through his nose then exhaled through his mouth. With all the strength he could muster and crouching as low as he could, while still balancing himself on the railing, he sprung upward like a bullet. He flew, matching the Cat’s altitude, and caught him mid-air before he could disengage the line on his belt. The impact was harder and a bit more painful than expected; it was bound to be either way. Mark shrugged it off with a faint grunt. The Black Cat? Not so much.

Shooting his webs to a railing, the Web-Slinger managed to hold them suspended before completely falling. The Black Cat groaned from the whiplash but was still conscious and strong enough to smack Mark across the face, using him and the web to ascend as though he were back at climbing the rope in PE. Mark groaned despondently, his upper-lip stinging, then saw the master thief run through a door that led to the roof.

You gotta be shitting me.

He spun another web, triggering the web-shooters to pull him up, and dashed through the door as soon as he touched ground. The Black Cat, who had a decent head start, was running toward the edge of the building’s roof. He leapt on the edge and looked down, as though to prepare himself to jump. Yet, before he could he even think about doing that, two strong web-lines dragged him back. The master thief landed squarely and pathetically on his back. When he blinked and groaned, pain shooting through all of his back and some of his buttocks, he saw a pair of green eyes squinting right at him.

“Hey,” said the Black Cat, trying to conceal a smirk. “How’s it going, Webs?”

Mark tilted his head, arms crossed. “It seems like we’re in a rush, aren’t we, Puss in Boots?”

The Cat scoffed and cackled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Though he could make another run for it, he remained on the ground. “I thought you’d be taller,” Black Cat exclaimed, sounding disappointed. “Like way taller.”

“And I thought you’d be—uh—less of—dammit.”

Mark groaned and rubbed the back of his neck when his quarry stared at him with a smug half-smile. The master thief shrugged, chuckled, then his hands moved to either side of his head faster than Mark could register it. With acrobatic ease and proficiency, the Cat performed a perfect kip up and was instantly on his feet. If he was winded and exhausted from the chase, he didn’t show it.

“Cat caught your tongue?”

“Funny,” mumbled Spider-Man. “Real funny.”

“Not as funny as this.” The Cat titled his head to the side. He was still smirking as he sang, “Oh Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream—make it the harshest pummeling I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you—?”

And there it was. A second too late but still there. His entire body buzzed, goosebumps spreading everywhere, and his head felt heavy as a wave of nausea hit him like a punch on his gut. Everything momentarily slowed down but before he could react to the danger, before he could even register it, he was swept aside with such force that felt like a van had smacked him squarely across the side. The pressure and velocity of it overwhelmed him. He flew, high and far away from the building’s roof . . . until he wasn’t. 

He didn’t know where or how he landed. He just knew, as everything turned dark, that everything hurt and there was definitely a good amount of sand in his pants.

[thefanficmonster]

And My Heart Burned In That Lodge

Michael (Mike) Munroe x Reader (female)

Warnings: Death, Grief, Dealing with loss, Heartbreak, Swearing

Genre: ANGST

Summary: None of them will ever be the same, who knows if they’ll even heal. However, the case is different for Mike. He’s left to be dealing with the guilt, grief and the haunting memory of his friend’s death. He’s angry with himself for all the wrong things he did and all the right things he was too much of a coward to do. Now, his only closure is talking to a gravestone, hoping the wind in the graveyard will pass the message onto the person who the words are meant for.  

Requested by Anon. Wish I could tag them, they have such amazing ideas ❤

PS - Sorry this is hella long, I got carried away LOL

I stand aside, watching as my friends place their flowers on her grave. I can hear their cries. For some odd reason I can’t find it in me to feel sympathy or the need to go over there and be with them. I can’t see how that would do anything but make me feel more miserable. Standing here, seeing this scene unfold in front of me, I can’t help but be reminded of how it all started.

Fuck Mondays, man. Fuck them from the bottom of my heart. Even worse, this is the first week of school after winter break so no one wants to be here. Even even worse, this is the first time I’ll be seeing Emily after out breakup. We broke up over text and while I’m aware that’s the worst way to break up with someone, I must admit it was the only way for a lot of arguing and awkwardness to be avoided. 

It’s the first time I’m coming to school alone in a while. Without Emily, the car was pleasantly quiet aside from the songs on the radio. Not gonna lie, it felt a bit lonely. Being single for the first time in what feels like forever is both liberating and oddly melancholic. I try to push the self-loathing and the depressing thoughts away as my eyes scan the hallway, looking for the group of familiar faces. My gang. We used to be ten people but we lost two girls during our winter getaway at the Washington lodge. Josh’s sisters, Hannah and Beth, went missing and are presumably dead, all cause of a stupid prank Jess, Emily and I concocted, convincing Matt and Ash to go along with it. In retrospect, I don’t know what we were thinking.

‘Seriously, Mike? From one depressing thought to another? Is your brain lacking serotonin today more than usual or what?‘ I mentally scold myself just as I spot two familiar faces - Sam and Ashley. 

It doesn’t take long for me to notice the rest of the gang - Matt, Jess and Chris - all standing near by, surrounding a girl I have never seen before. She sticks out immediately with her long H/C hair and shiny E/C eyes. Jess has her arm linked with the girl, a gesture really out of place for Jess. I mean, her and Emily are pretty close and I’ve never even seen them hug.

“Hey, man. How are you?“ Matt notices me first, lifting his head and smiling at me. His greeting leads the others to look in my direction as well, including the girl. I catch Jess lean down in and whisper something to her. I can’t hear what she’s saying but it clearly aggravates her. I have never received a dirtier look from a girl in my entire life. I usually have the opposite effect on women but I guess there’s a first time for everything. 

“Mike...” Jess steps away from the girl and towards me, “this is my best friend, Y/N. She just got transferred here.” She turns her attention back to the girl, “Y/N, this is Mike.” 

Y/N looks unamused as she outstretches her arm in my direction. “Nice to meet you” is what she says, but her expression clearly tells me she would like to see as little of me as possible. At least she’s polite, right? 

“Likewise.” The handshake is brief and, despite her obvious distaste for me, she still gives me a firm handshake. 

“Wait, you were transferred? I thought Jess said you came here cause you moved.” Sam furrows her brows in confusion. 

“Well, it’s really a chicken and the egg type of situation.” Y/N laughs, rubbing the back of her neck almost nervously, “We moved because I had to transfer.”  Yikes.“ Ashley comments, “Not to pry or anything, but why did you have to be transferred?“

Y/N looks me dead in the eyes, as if she’s sending me a message that I better not overlook, or so help me God I’ll be dead. ”Noses randomly broke when I was around.”

It hurts so much to look back on those times and not pick up on what I was feeling. I foolishly decided that if I can’t give the feelings a name or find them a purpose I should turn a blind eye. I wasn’t that ignorant, I could tell she was the cause, but I could never admit it.

And then there’s the situation with Jess...

“You hurt her, and I’ll kill you.“

I found Y/N by the bleachers and let me tell you, she’s quite the paradox. She’s a straight A, no nonsense, intelligent beyond her years girl. With all these characteristics, you’d think she’d know better than to smoke cigarettes. Wrong! She’s a smoker. Jess can never not complain about the smell of cigarette smoke, it’s a miracle these two get along.

To my ‘hi’ she responded with what looked to be an eyeroll and an annoyed release of smoke through her nostrils. Even though I know I’m not welcome to be in her proximity, I still decide to sit down a little ways away from her, for personal space and all that. Definitely not cause I’m slightly afraid of her. No way.

We just sit in silence until she hits me with the aforementioned threat. I am caught off guard. All I can do is stare straight ahead of me like a deer in headlights. After maybe thirty seconds of absolute confusion I manage to turn my head to look at her. “What are you talking about?” The question is supposed to sound harsh but compared to the way she spit out that death threat it sounded more like a whimper.

“You are such an ignorant asshole.“ She shakes her head, throwing her cigarette on the bench below her. She stomps on it and walks away. I can’t help but stare at her until she’s out of sight. I feel like I’m watching something non-human. A phenomenon you can experience once in a lifetime - if you’re lucky. 

She’s the complete opposite of Jess: grounded, smart, rational. The only time I’ve seen her be so unpleasant is around me. I catch her interactions with the rest of the gang. From afar, she seems like the nicest, friendliest girl. And then she catches a glimpse of me and her mood changes. I don’t know what’s her problem with me but I know it most certainly isn’t something I’ve done to her. She’s been like that since the first moment we were introduced, so either Jess has talked a lot of shit about me or she just hates people named Michael. I may never know.

I had no idea what she meant at the time and only found out three weeks ago. Speaking of three weeks ago, the group once again headed for the Blackwood Pines, trying to hide their uneasiness with make excitement. I was pretty hyped when I heard we were going because that also meant our friend Josh was finally starting to get better. He hadn’t been in a good mindset since his sisters went missing and we were all really worried for him but weren’t allowed to show it because he always insisted he was fine.

He wasn’t. He was as messed up as ever and served as only the prologue to the nightmare of a night we had to live through.

But before all that could happen, the night started off well. Better than expected. The eeriness of the mountain combined with the bad memories we had of the place we still there, we could all feel the tension, but we did a good job masking it with jokes and whatnot. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to go and not only because of what happened the year prior.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N’s coming too?“ I ask, looking at Josh with wide eyes.

The guy is clearly confused by my overdramatic reaction to him counting down the names of the ones who had already RSVPd ‘Yes’. “Is that a problem or something?”

I sigh, hiding my face in my hands. It’s embarrassing to admit, really. “She doesn’t like me, and that puts it mildly. She hates me.”

He looks even more baffled than before, “Why? What’d you do to her?”

“Nothing, for fuck’s sake. Not a single thing. I haven’t even had a proper interaction with her.“ Talking about this matter exhausts me, mostly cause I can’t even express half the things I’m feeling.

There’s been a time or two I’ve caught her looking at me but her eyes weren’t filled with that distrust I’m used to. She looks away quickly when we make eye contact, as if she can’t put the mean mask on in time and she has to look away to do a system reset. I sometimes catch myself looking at her without realizing. I try to tell myself I do it for the purpose of solving her. 

‘Who are you kidding, Munroe?‘

                                                                  * * *

And here I am, climbing up the mountain to the Washington lodge. I’ve made it a goal to use this getaway to mend things with Y/N. It’s the only way for me to get back to normal. To get my mind back since she’s recently been living in my head rent-free. I’m bullshitting, not just recently. She’s taken over my brain since day one. I can’t place what’s going on with me, I can’t find a term to label it with and I most definitely can’t find a way to stop it. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I can’t stop it on my own, she’ll have to do it for me.

Another thing - I’ve never felt nervous or self-conscious around a girl all my life. Never. My friends joke that I’m a ladies’ man and I’d say that’s pretty true. So I have a tough time understanding how I turn into an awkward turtle that’s missing confidence when she’s around.

Once we all get settled in and there’s a fire going, giving the lodge a cozy atmosphere, it’s every man for themselves. Everyone picks a activity they want to occupy themselves with and the living room of the lodge empties out, leaving me there alone.

I scroll stare at the screen of my now useless phone. The thing has no reception and no way of keeping me busy, leaving my attention to wander to the voices that are getting more and more distant as my friends walk out of the room.

I can’t help but overhear Jess say to Y/N, “You haven’t even set your bag down yet and you’re going for a smoke? Jeez, Y/N.”

“You say as though you don’t know me.“ Y/N laughs, the sound of a door opening following after her voice.

It’s such a nice sound, her laugh. I’ve never heard it before. I’ve seen her smile and seen her chuckle at someone’s joke, but it was never actually a laugh. Seems she keeps those for special occasions. 

If she’s in the type of mood to laugh, she’s in the type of mood to be civil with me. Before I can talk myself out of the on-spot decision, I mentally slap myself and get off the couch, walking to the door to the side deck.

“You’ve got this, she’s just a person” 

“Who’s just a person?“ her voice cuts through the silence of the outdoors.

‘SHIT I SAID THAT OUT LOUD‘

I decide to carry this all the way, no shortcuts. No backing out. Somehow, now that she’s standing in front of me - a cigarette between her fingers, her shoulders tense from of the cold - I find it easier to get the words out. She’s just as human as everyone else. The cold causes her to shrivel up. She’s addicted to tobacco. She’s not some riddle I need to solve, just a person I need to talk to in order to understand.

“You.“ I reply, “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?“

She shakes her head, her shoulders trembling a bit, “It builds the immune system.”

“No, it makes you suffer.“ I shrug my jacket off, cautiously approaching her and wrapping it around her.

Surprisingly, she accepts it with a nod and a murmured ‘thanks’, holding onto it with the hand that’s not holding her cigarette. “Why were you reminding yourself that I’m just a person? Do I not look like one?” She scoffs, facing away from me to look at the snowy hills ahead.

“No, no, not that. You just make me nervous that’s all.“ 

She whirls around, giving me this look as though she has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Really? Why’s that?“ she puts out her cigarette on the wooden railing, focusing all her attention on me.

My hand instinctively goes up to the back of my neck, feeling my face start to heat up. “Well, you’re not really fond of me. And I don’t know why, and....” I trail off, sighing in self-disappointment, “And I wanna know why.”

Her expression turns the complete opposite, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s not about something you have done. It’s about what you might’ve done.”

Despite feeling slightly relieved, I am no less confused than I was a minute ago. “And what is that?”

“Break my best friend’s heart.“ She looks a lot more serious now, “You really had no idea she was head over heels for you just a month ago. You were so oblivious and she was so whipped...“ frustration radiates off of her, “I just didn’t want her to get hurt.“ She closes her eyes, stabilizing herself before finishing her statement, “I didn’t want to hurt her.“

“Wait, what?“

The hurt that paints itself on her face is contagious. I feel it too and I don’t even know what’s causing it. “She always told me about you. Mike this and Mike that. She made you sound like the best guy in the world. And...I really wanted to be let down when I met you, but you were nothing but nice to me and to the other people in the group. But you were also such a jerk from time to time. You are just too...Fucking forget it.” 

In a blink of an eye she puts my jacket over the railing and runs inside the lodge.

“Y/N, wait!“

Needless to say, running after her was the best decision I’ve made. I didn’t get her to admit to anything, but at least we lied down the armor and agreed to give each other some time to get to know one another. Drop aside the assumptions and give a this acquaintanceship the chance to become a friendship. 

Sadly, all good things come to an end way sooner than we want. The rest of that dreadful night I witnessed her transform. When everyone was freaking out, she held them and comforted them. I saw the fear in her eyes but she never let it shine through in her actions. She was the one still holding it together even after she saw that disgusting creature. Her and I were the ones to turn that sanatorium upside down. We were with Josh in the mines. We were the ones to see the Wendigo first. We were by each other’s side the entire time. We had each other’s backs. 

I’ve never felt such a connection with someone. I was experiencing the most intimate understanding with a person in the worst moment of my life. It was bittersweet. The poison mixed with the cure.

Even when she knew her death was approaching, her only reaction was a single tear. A single crystal drop running down her cheek.

We can make a break. We can run right out of this hell hole and turn it to ash, all we need is for this fucking to focus its attention elsewhere. Thankfully Chris, Ash and Emily have made it out already and they’re safe. However, Sam, Y/N and I are trapped. The silent looks we exchange are laced with fear and panic. We have to calculate our next moves down to a millisecond and we don’t even know what those next moves should be.

Suddenly, a sharp pain starts spreading from my hand shoulder. My adrenaline is no longer doing a good job blocking out the pain of the fingers I had to sever. I slip up, letting out a hiss. The pain is just that unbearable.

That thing turn at the speed of light, letting out a screech and heading in my direction. My whole body is tense I couldn’t move if I wanted to but my arm is in such a horribly painful position, I think I’ll faint if I don’t readjust it.

“HEY!“ The voice comes from opposite me and my heart drops.

Sam’s next to me. It’s not her. It’s Y/N. 

The Wendigo loses interest in me as soon as it hears her yell turning and heading straight for her. It all starts sinking in. Now that it’s facing away, Sam and I can make it out. But she can’t. It’s over for her. There’s no way she’s leaving this lodge.

I catch her eyes from across the room. Her posture says a fighter, but her eyes scream ‘petrified’. She knows it too. She knows it’s game over. A single tear rolls down her cheek, shattering my heart.

That’s the last vulnerable moment, however. She turns her head, deciding to go out without showing a glint of fear to that piece of shit. I don’t have to look at Sam or tell her what to do. We’re both aware that we’re about to make it out, losing Y/N in the process.

It happens in a split second. Y/N spits at the Wendigo and then next thing I see is her laying on the ground in a pool of blood. 

The dash out of the lodge is a blur. The last thing I remember is sitting outside of the burning building, staring at the flames. The lodge wasn’t the only thing burning. Years of memories; history; wendigos; and my heart burnt in that lodge.

I see the group leave the graveyard. I struggle to move forward, my limbs heavy. I feel gravity is a lot stronger all of a sudden. 

I didn’t go to the final goodbye. I knew it wasn’t her. There was nothing left of her to bury. Sam told me they buried things that reminded people of her and objects she cherished. 

Well it’s time I give my goodbye.

I shrug my jacket off - the same jacket from that night - and put it around the gravestone like I put it over her shoulders. There’s a box of the cigarettes she smoked in the inner pocket.

“I hope you felt what I felt, Y/N. I hope I didn’t have to say it for you to notice it. I wish I knew...cause now it’ll haunt me for the rest of my life.” I can’t stop the tears, I’m too weak and I’ve been holding them back for far too long. “I’ve never believed in an afterlife. But I really hope there is one, just so we can meet again.” I scoff, shaking my head, “Who am I kidding, I’m probably going to hell.”

I believe that’s where I deserve to go, anyway. I’m the reason she died. And I will never let myself live that down. I will never forgive myself. A flame like no other burnt out so mine could keep burning.   I will make sure it haunts me till the day I leave this world behind.

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

It was now the third week in March of 1864. Harper had given her Katerina’s letter the day before but she wasn’t able to do more than read it. She had done as Katerina had asked of her, talking to Pearl about the items listed in the letter while also doing some investigation herself. Doing this had taken the youngest Salvatore a little over two days, Lee had given word to Harper to tell Katerina (Katherine) her reply would be delayed, not to worry and all would be explained soon enough. 

She now sat safely tucked into the back of Pearl’s shop, the vampire working out front while Annabelle sat on the couch with one of Lee’s old sketchbooks in hand.

My Dear Katerina, I forgave you before you even asked. I know you say it isn’t selfish but it felt it as I wrote those words. I am glad you are able to see and understand why I would feel that way. The fact you are willing to take that into account for next time, lightens my heart. It is the same reason I asked Harper to return to you before my letter was ready. So you knew I was simply busy, doing as you asked along with my own plans, and that I would reply by the end of the week.

Never once have you lied to me, it is why I trust you as I do. I don’t believe that you ever would, there is no need for lies between us. Our love does not need that complication nor that deception. I will never lie to you, I would rather always be honest--no matter the consequence. I respect you too much. I know you love me. I will keep saying that until it’s no longer needed. As I now know for certain you will not distance yourself from me. It is one thing to believe something and another to fully know.

You say Emily will provide you with knowledge always. Always while not as long as eternally is a very long time. I can feel you have plans--something you are never short on. I swear sometimes I think you have a plan for every possible outcome, maybe as many as there are letters in the alphabet. It wouldn’t surprise me. Once we are together, if you would be agreeable, I would love to hear this new one. I can feel there are things you aren’t telling me, but I also know there is a just reason for it. I will be patient.

If you believe Emily and I will get along then we more than likely will. Someone new to meet that you trust is something I always look forward to. I just hope you have warned her I am a curious person, questions will no doubt follow our friendship. The more you bring here to help with your plans where I cannot, that you trust to do as they are asked, possibly the better. 

I know you say we must look after ourselves and each other. Something I do understand, I have done so by myself until I met you. I know it displeases you that I have seen the crueler side of this world, but as you said the sooner one realizes it the better. You have restored some of the good in the world for me; with your words, your actions, with the people we call friends. It pains me to think we would ever be in a situation where you or I would have to decide between us and our small family, our friends. I agree no matter how close I become to Pearl, Annabell, or even Emily...my loyalty will always be with you. You are the one I will trust, you are the one I know I can count on. As you have said I am your home...you are mine. Wherever you are is where I belong and it is where my heart will be. Which means my home is what I will always choose.

I am not naive enough to not know at some point in our lives it will happen. I will also choose us. Always you. It would hurt, but it will always be you, us, our home. To survive that is how it has to be. 

The growth my love has caused you is not something I looked to do. I never wanted to change you in any way. I hope you do know that. But to know I am now included in what you protect, put first, and joined into your survival...I cannot lie, it pleases me. The fact you will be careful for me, for us… it is all I can ask. I know danger is there, I know there are enemies. That is not something we can avoid. Some closer to home than I would like. But your promise to come back to me, to be careful and only do what is needed. It shows that growth, my love. 

I mentioned enemies being closer to home than I would like. I did as you asked about the vampire causing the ‘animal attacks’. While Pearl and myself both believe it is possibly two vampires, there is one we found to be guilty. He’s one of yours, Katerina. Rebellious, disrespectful, vile man. He has no regard for human life, only seeing us as his food source and a form of entertainment. I hope you can hear the distaste for him in my words. His name is Frederick, I sadly had the displeasure of meeting him. The only thing that kept him from trying to kill me was Pearl’s reminder of who exactly I am to you. Though that seemed to irritate him more, he has a lover here and yet he seems to have misguided feelings toward you. Is there something I should know about you and him?

We do not know who the second vampire causing the attacks is. They are more careful than Frederick, yet just as vicious. She used a term I have yet to hear, she called the unknown vampire a ripper. We will continue to try and figure out who it is for you though. I won’t let them destroy what you have worked so hard for.

John Gilbert might be a neusions but his nonsense plans...they may be possible. How I am not sure of yet. But I feel that he knows about more than just vampires. Most of the men, or founding fathers as they are starting to call themselves, are ruthless. Dead set in their ways of thinking and anyone outside of that is just wrong. I am careful though my heart. He nor anyone else knows what I am up to. A perk of being invisible to this small town unless I do something to warrant their attention. I should only fear him or the others if they were to ever realize I know more than I should; meaning of your existence and my love for you or how I am friends with three other vampires. And from what I suspect...a witch. Not Emily though.

But I do promise as you have that I am careful while finding answers to things we need or in my everyday life. I haven’t touched a gun since you asked me to wait. Just as no matter how tempting it is to jump from the falls as it gets warmer, I don’t. Every risk that could take me from you I have eliminated in my life. At least for now. I know you would never stop me from learning or discourage me from doing so. I know you only want me to wait, not stop. Your want to protect me is something I love about you. My love is what makes me want to protect you Katerina. The fact no one else has ever done that? Angers me. You deserve the same amount of love and protection as I do. 

My innocence will stay within the way I want to learn, the way I sketch, and my love for those things. I already know you will keep that alive because of your promises and words. Your words to show me how to use different weapons and let me continue to work with guns. Your words of loving my passion for what I learn and listening to me speak of it. Your promises of showing me the world. I cannot wait to see the world by your side. I want to go to Bulgaria, I want to see where you were born and where you lived. I want to see the falls there that you write of.  I want the world with you Katerina. 

You think your innocence is completely gone...but you admitted it yourself, I give you butterflies and make you think of the girl you once were. Are those feelings and memories not signs of that innocence still within you even if it is just a small amount? Is not the way I make you laugh and smile not also signs of it? You are not completely lost to the cruelty of this world or the actions you have had to take to survive. Your humanity is on because of how you choose to live, my heart. It is just as showing as many other things. 

I call you Katerina not because it is simply your birth name but also because I see that woman in you. From the way to speak to me, look at me, protect me, to the way you truly do love me. Katerina is still within Katherine Pierce. If she wasn't, my love and presence wouldn’t help to sooth your anxieties. 

If she wasn’t you wouldn’t see me for me, make plans to see the world with me, to make me the only one you truly trust or put as a priority with your own survival. Even in the sillier things such as the want to jump the falls with me or find other places in the world to jump with me. There is innocence still there love, you just have to look for it. You say I truly see you, then believe my words my heart. We are both lucky to have found each other, but it was your courage to start that conversation that started our tale.

A tale that will one day mean I have to die---but only long enough for your blood to bring me back. It will not be at my own hand when you are not here. I did not mean to hurt you by being honest of where my thoughts went for that week and a half. Never is it my intention to hurt you as I said in my last letter. It hurts for me to tell you I could not live without you, but what would happen if you were forced to live without me? You said yourself it is not something you wish to think of...why? Because it would be a horrible existence now that you know what we could have had, yes? You save me, Katerina. I do not think you realize that. I realized it but not completely until your words were a slap to my face. You are enough. You are more than enough. You are my world Katerina. Your love, our plans, everything to do with this is enough to keep me from stepping over a ledge you cannot pull me back from. Ending my own life, leaving you...it is not something I could follow through with. 

You love me in ways you have never loved another, in the 400 years you have been alive. How could I leave you? How could I let my demons win and take me away from you? I cannot allow that to happen. I will not allow it to happen. I will use all the strength I have to hold on to that and you. I am sorry I hurt you my heart. I am so so sorry to cause you indescribable pain. Never again. I promise you that.

When I die it will be when you see fit. Not because of my foolishness, not because I was trying to protect you. But because it will be the start of our eternity in full. I do not fear death if I have you by my side, holding me and leading me through it. Maybe I should but I cannot seem to. I know you wish I wouldn’t ever have to, but if I don’t I will not be able to spend eternity with you as we have promised each other. It would only be a forever in the terms of my humanity. Which to me is not acceptable.

You say you love how I can be greedy, though in a different context, me wanting eternity with you is greedy. And if I cannot be greedy with you only drinking from me, then why not grant me another greedy want? I understand why you cannot only drink from me. Raising suspicion toward you is not something I wish to cause. Nor risk the chance of turning early. Yes I want to turn with you but only when you see it fit. I trust your judgement, which you know. I dislike the fact you can’t solely use me, but I do understand.

You may be angry with me for what I am about to tell you, but know I did this in hopes of making sure it was safe for you to drink from me. Know that all I wanted was to give you more knowledge of what would happen if Vervain was in my system. Pearl was not happy but she did understand. I only hope you do too, my heart. Your questions made me wonder as well, what would happen if you had only a drop of my blood was tainted with the horrid plant. How badly it would hurt you…

Annabelle and I took a vial of liquid Vervain that Pearl had in the shop. I did not drink it, only mixed a very small amount with my own blood in a glass. Annabelle took a sip, from the glass Katerina. The pain was mild, as if she had burned her tongue and throat with a soup too hot to have. Testing one drop of my blood would not harm you as much as cause discomfort for you. If it is the only way to make sure my blood is still pure for you, then we will do that. 

Once you are here, it will be easier for me to make sure there is no vervain in my food or drink. I can only do so much as a human to make sure I do not have it. I want you to be able to drink from me. I want you to have what you crave that is mine, always. Harper should have a very small gift for you. It was all I could send but hopefully it stops some of your torture of not being able to drink for me until I see you again. 

I expect you to hold me to my words, my heart. You will drink to your heart's content once we are together. The activities I envision for our first night back together include that. We do have a difficult time keeping our hands to ourselves, so I won’t deny either of us that pleasure. And we have discovered that it is most pleasurable for us both for you to drink in a moment of raw passion, why deny that pleasure? Why not combine once more what we love to have with each other? My body aches for you in so many ways. I just wish there was a way to keep you to myself for a few days as we did last summer; hours spent in bed, feeding our more primal desires. But the moments we have will have to be enough for now.

Another thing I have done in the last week that may anger you...I listened to your words, not to trust Madeline. To trust your instincts and that of Annabelle--though after the stunt with the blood and now this you may tell me to avoid listening to Annabelle. Please know she is just my friend, she cares for me and wants to make sure I am safe for you. 

You reminded me that not everyone who seems innocent is, that looks can be greatly deceiving. That different species have different smells, not just to werewolves but vampires. I asked Annabelle what Madeline smelled like--aside from one of rot, which you have told me means dark ruinous magic---she told me of Skullcap, Cats Claw, Rosemary, and elderberry. Of course, Annabelle didn’t know all their names but the way she described them well, after two summers with you I would know them anywhere. Madeline is a witch, she almost didn’t want to admit it either for fear of me screaming witch through town or for some deeper reason. But she did. Her eyes held something else though. Aside from reluctance and her surprise that I knew of such things. There was something she was hiding from me. I don’t know what and I did not question it. Pearl knows and now so do you.

She continues to want to be near me, but I am never alone with her. Not after you warned me. Annabelle is always with me or we are at Pearl’s shop. As I stated above in this letter, your judgement is all I need to trust, you are the only one I will trust my heart. Though I think I need to keep an eye on her. Why suddenly is there a witch in town? Yes, she arrived last summer with two friends--one that chased Stefan and made him fall in love. Was she a witch too? Why did Madeline remain and the others go? So many unanswered questions.

There is no need to be jealous, Katerina. Not with Annabelle or Madeline. My attention on Annabelle is just a distraction from missing you and gaining a true friend. Madeline is someone I now know I need to watch for your sake and what she might be planning on her own. All my true attention and affection is saved for only you. Always for you. Something you will be reminded of the moment I see you, the moment you are here in town and here to stay until we can rid ourselves of this place once and for all. My eyes will never stray from you, my heart always will long to be near yours, my hands only will move to caress you or keep you close. Never will another take that from you. Remember that my love.

Besides, I know what would happen if I ever returned another's attention or desire for affection--I am yours. They would die for daring to think of taking me from you. I may not be able to tell Stefan of that fact, but I can warn Madeline off that I am taken if her attentions and intentions change from friendship toward something else. But the fact of Stefan is, I do believe he is jealous. The woman he met last summer, she stood him up at their planned randevu point. He is a handsome man but he does not chase women, nor generally pursue them. Stefan will show interest but wants to be chased. I think the woman truly broke his heart as I said last time. It’s taught him to be cautious which in the end has stopped women in town from trying to build anything with him. 

Or it could be the Salvatore reputations who have stopped any woman from looking his way. Damon has smeared our name so many times with his womanizing ways and drinking. The town is what calls him the Scumlike Salvatore, along with many other names. Stefan is the saint of the family in our fathers eyes--though if he knew of Stefan’s activities last summer that might change. The words I used to describe myself, I was not using them as my own words. They are the towns my love You will see when you get here. I am the Sick Salvatore to them. Or I used to be. Now it is the rare whisper that I hear.

You asked me if it was Damon’s charm and cockiness that was appealing--it pains me to admit this, but yes, it is. Just as you find me charming and my cockiness pleasing, so do women for Damon. It really pains me to be this honest, but in that respect we are similar. We get it from our mother, or so I am told. I was eight when my mother died so I do not remember her as well as my brothers and the things I do remember, well I know they would make you feel as my father does. But Stefan claims we are like her. That our attitudes match hers when it comes to our wit and sarcasm or cockiness. So there is a chance you will find him appealing, oh how the bile is rising in my throat at that thought.

Maybe how we are similar to mother, with our own flaws, is why Father despises us so much. I would not put it past him. And yes, my heart...he whipped me, hidden within the cellar. I do not know how long we were down there, only that Pearl wanted to kill him when she saw the result of it. As I told you last time, it was enough to scar my back for the rest of my human life. I told her it was only your right to kill him, that I had told you before that I would let you--that I wanted it to be you. To watch you do so, torture him and make him beg? I will cherish that more than you ever know. If it makes us ill so be it. I do not care anymore. Not when it comes to thoughts of him.

He was drunk when he found us coming back from the falls. It was foolish of me to have gone in the first place truly. He’d been drinking all day. I do not have good experiences with people who drink. But with you, as with parties, I know I can come to accept and learn to be comfortable with those types of situations. A more playful form of you? Now that would be interesting to see. With you I would be comfortable. We have all eternity to find out. I wonder what alcohol would truly do to me? If it is something that helps keep the thirst away, I will have to drink. 

My thirst when I change is something I will quickly have to learn to control with my emotions. While I know you will help me, along with those we consider family, I need to find ways to do so on my own as well. If drinking is one of them so be it. I will not be so unhinged after changing that I risk altering Niklaus. I refuse. But we have time to work on that. To find ways. 

On the subject of a locket, when it comes I will put it on once there is vervain in it. I’ll wear it for you. It can be a way to show I belong to you as well. Though I do enjoy the idea of the lock and key for us both. One day, maybe a ring--either my daylight ring or one I find for you. We have that eternity though so why think of that now? To be marked by you and have you return that wish to be by me is enough for now. 

Loopholes are such a funny thing aren’t they? Always there no matter what it is, always a way around something. I have no doubt if someone tried to compel me you would figure it out or I would find a way to tell you. You may be lethal now, unstoppable in so many ways...but with me beside you? I will not be your weakness...I promise to only make you stronger, to help push you to legendary.

Enjoy the gift Harper has for you my heart. I will send each letter.

With all my love, Lee

[takaraphoenix]

This may or may not be a touchy question (I guess it depends?), but how do you deal with hate with people who don't particularly like your work or the pairings you like? Because I've seen a fair amount of people stop creating content they want to make because of the backlash or hate they get simply for shipping something, so I do wonder... How do you do it? After all these years, how are you still standing, head held up high? – Much love! <3

I suppose a huge part in that is... personality? I mean, what type of person one is. Some people are very sensitive and negativity gets to them heavily.

Which, is ironic, because I am normally that type of person. I always overthink what other people may think of me and in real life I am easily deterred.

But something about the internet changes the dynamic for me.

If it’s in person? If someone looks me in the eye and criticizes the things I like? That has me fuming. But ain’t nothing more unpersonal than getting an anon and having this round fella with the sunglasses stare at you, or having a “guest” on AO3 comment something nasty.

Because they’re cowards. And the cowardice of the other party tells me that, so a certain degree, they themselves know they’re full of shit. Because if they were confident in what they’re saying, if they knew they were right with whatever they’re claiming, there’s no need to go anon. They could tell me “to my face” - as much as the internet allows that; by being logged in and starting a dialogue.

But someone who hides behind the grey round fella with the sunglasses to tell me I’m morally wrong? Makes me  genuinely laugh. Because if I were, you had no reason to hide.

(At this point, I’d like to add, since you’re on anon too, that there’s different reasons for going on anon. Sometimes, it’s shyness. But if you think yourself morally superior to someone and want to ring the bell of shame behind them, you can’t hide behind anonymity. That’s different.)

I just really can’t take people seriously who hide in the shadows of anonymity to scream at me about how wrong I am. You’d do that with confidence if you knew you were right. But they’re wrong and full of shit. Because they are.

There is no “right” or “wrong” about taste. A ship ain’t only valid for being morally upstanding, pure, canon, whatever. And a person ain’t inherently vile for shipping something that’s unleathy, or toxic, or whatever buzzword they throw around.

Which is another part. I just... absolutely can not take anyone seriously who throws buzzwords around wildly and with no foundation, because they lack any common sense.

Yeah, they’re brothers and it’s incest, what do I care, they’re also fictional characters, I ain’t telling two real life brothers to bang and get married, what’s wrong with the people who can’t tell fiction apart from reality. That’s just pitiful.

I’ve also seen the other side of that. I’ve seen antis ship the exact thing that they’re judging, insulting and harrassing other shippers for. From incest to abuse apologism to just plain toxic canon dynamics. All the things they find a justification to harrass others about, but they ship things of that kind themselves. But their ships are ““different”“ from the ones they hate.

It all boils down to taste and it boils down to a bunch of morons who can’t grasp the concept of “taste” and the fact that... you can like something without it being pure and you can dislike something without it being every shade of morally corrupt.

They bend over backward to find justifications for why the ships they dislike are inherently bad, while they also bend over backward to justify why the exact same things they judge other ships for are actually wholesome and pure in the ships they like.

And at that point, I just genuinely feel bad for those people and am terrified for them. Because I am fully aware of what I ship. I know every deprived nook and cranny of my ships. I know the exact level of toxicity of the canon dynamics. I’m just also aware that they’re fictional characters. But the moment you start reaching to justify why abuse isn’t technically abuse, that’s when it becomes worrisome. And that’s what they do, to justify their own ships.

Now, I’m not gonna lie, this isn’t an attitude I always had and it’s not something I just woke up with one day.

I’ve been in fandom for 15 years now. I’ve seen a lot and I’ve dealt with a lot. I’ve seen when shipwars were primarily reserved to the canon straight love triangles. I’ve seen it devolve into “your ship isn’t valid the gays are getting in the way of the CANON STRAIGHTS”. I’ve seen the number of canon gays grow in media and how it affected these ship wars, invalidating ships where a canon gay ship was split up. And now this shit-show of antis.

My attitude grew out of seeing and experiencing a lot. I was lucky to be “raised” in a safe fandom environment, where the fandom olds took us youngsters under their wings and guided us, taught us how to improve our writing, helped us establish connections in a community.

And that last part, that’s important. Important in dealing with hate. Maybe the most important part, really. You have to find your community. Don’t let yourself be sucked into a circle of hate. Find the people who love the same things as you - the same show, the same characters, the same ships. Form friendships, find that community of positivity.

Fandom is what you make it. Even when other people try to make it something else, try to turn it into a hateful, gross place filled with harrassment and fear and moral policing. Regardless of how hard they try; your fandom is up to you.

Find the people who bring the positivity, who will come into your fics and leave reviews of love and positivity. And weed out the bad. Block them. Block the antis in your fandom, avoid them. Sometimes, preemtively going into an anti tag and just going on a block-spree can be really helpful already. You can block anons on tumblr too! Granted, only their ID, but at one point they’re gonna run out of devices to post anon hate from.

That much to my personal attitude toward it. Now to the act of actually dealing with it.

Many adivse, rightfully so, to ignore it. AO3 allows you to delete comments. On tumlr, you can just delete an anon and not answer it. Especially when you’re the type who is affected by it, not engaging is the best solution.

Personally, I like arguing with people. Everyone who ever talked to me might have noticed that. I live for a good argument. And I’m really bad at letting something just stand. So I usually argue back. I do that, because I am very bad at keeping my mouth shut, but also because it brings me a certain amount of glee to mock their nonsense.

I do it here. I have my “Dear Anonymous Shithead” tag where I address anon bullshit and anon hate from FFNet and AO3 - because FFNet doesn’t let you answer to anons. And then I delete the original comments on my fics, because I don’t like shitstains on my fics.

I call that approach meeting them on your own terms. Because they think they are doing something grand somehow by publicly leaving their vile comments on your fics. Delete them, take their voice away. Put it somewhere else to argue their nonsense on your own terms, mock them if you want, it’s fun. Fight your battle, the way you want to fight it - and that does include just deleting them and not engaging at all; that’s not running away, that’s self-care.

Like I said, my attitude’s not always been like that. It got me before too. Way, way back - and I really do mean way back, it’s been surely over five years ago - there was a tumblr account on here that spent an unreasonable amount of time openly hating on me. It’s the reason I avoided getting a tumblr, because back then I was not in a mental state to openly engage with such a hateful place.

And it’s still a hateful place; all those anti communities here. People proudly proclaiming they’re antis in their biography. People taking screenshots of other tumblrs or artists to mock them and make fun of them. The thing that changed isn’t tumblr, it’s me. I waited to engage with this place until I was ready to engage with it. I got my tumblr account when I already had the attitude of scoffing at anon hate.

I do think that only getting actively involved in a website when you are ready for it is another important part. The thing you mention in your ask, the people who stopped creating because of anon hate. It breaks my heart, it absolutely does, and I hate losing creators to it, but I do think that if those creators made that judgment call for themselves and their own mental health because they knew they couldn’t handle the harrassment, then they did the right thing. Even if they themselves may hate it, because they want to create. But sometimes, taking a step back is the right thing to do. I do hope that they will find it in themselves to overcome this and come back stronger, but constant harrassment and bullying can have severe consequences on a person and removing yourself from that kind of environment can sometimes be a last resort that needs to be taken.

I’ll also admit that I’ve been calculating what fandom to interact with to what degree ever since I got a tumblr account and started to see just how deep the hatred goes. Some things I might have created for, but I saw just how nasty the antis in the fandom were and... it wasn’t worth the fight for me.

Percy Jackson and Shadowhunters are my loves. My ride-or-die fandoms. I can, and will, fight for them. No one will chase me out of these fandoms, regardless of what kinds of insults and bullshit they throw at me. I’ve been here years longer than most of these newbie antis and I will be here long after they moved on to other things.

New things that I don’t have attachment to, I will weight if my level of interest in the thing will be worth engaging with the fandom nonsense with. Sometimes, it’s not, sometimes I make the judgment call for myself to step a way from a thing.

I admit, that happend with Teen Wolf too. Back when I did my last rewatch and enthusiastically engaged with it on here on tumblr, live posting about my rewatch and it... showed me startling, ugly sides of this fandom that I hadn’t known before, back when all my engagement had been to read fics and to write that one fic I had. That rewatch could have dragged me back into the deep end - but the brand of hate I encountered here... genuinely got to me. It really messed with my head, a lot, I’ve never been threatened before, I’ve never been insulted and constantly harrassed to such a degree. It was the first time I ever turned off anon on here, it put me into a sense of dread for just coming online for a while. I didn’t expect that, neither that it’d happen nor the extend of it or that it’d get to me like this. I still love Sterek to bits and pieces, it’ll be one of those ships I will always be attached to, but that experience with the bad side of the fandom made me recoil from getting involved with Teen Wolf again.

But in the Percy Jackson fandom? I’ve stood here for ten years now. I’ve gotten shit thrown at me about pretty much anything. I’ve also created over five hundred works for this fandom. I have received love and excitement in comments. I have received fanarts. I have received fanfiction to my fics. I’ve gotten fics dedicated to me by people who liked my work and wanted to write something nice for me. I’ve met one of my best friends and I’ve met my girlfriend in this fandom. Sure, I’ve been called names and been mocked, but I also know what I have.

I know I’m a damn good writer. I may not have much self-esteem, but what little self-esteem I have is located here, in the very thing they think they can attack. The thing is, I have no insecurities in this. This is the one area where you can’t attack me. And on top of that, I have that community of amazing people who love the same things as I do. I have the support, the friends, the shared hype. What do I care about some pitiful little fool hiding behind anonymity to whine about how wrong and gross I am? Their opinion weights nothing compared to that of the people who leave me anon love, who leave me squealy and excited comments.

To sum it all up:

Someone who has to hide behind anonymity is aware they don’t have the moral high ground.

Their definition of the “moral high ground” is so pitiful that it makes me feel bad for them.

I know the difference between fiction and reality and I pity the fools who don’t.

Find a positive fandom space for yourself and claim it.

Either delete anon hate, or meet it on your own terms.

Sometimes, I don’t. Sometimes, I lose and the hate does get to me.

You need to make the judgment call for yourself, if you can mentally handle a situation or not, and do what is best for you.

[eremiss]

Core

Mid 4.0 / Pre-Nadaam

The Nadaam was approaching somehow quickly and slowly at the same time. Each hour seemed to take a week, yet in the blink of an eye it was evening with only two days remaining until the motley crew of Scions, the Warrior of Light, the Doman Prince and his friend led the Mol tribe into battle against the other Steppe clans.

Somehow that wasn’t the most outlandish thing Gwen had ever done. Top 10, perhaps, but far from first.

For their part, the Mol seemed… anxiously optimistic about the whole thing, with extra emphasis on the ‘anxious’ part. For what it was worth, Cirina and Temulun seemed perfectly assured that the outsiders would lead them to victory.

Gwen and Alisaie took lunch slightly apart from the tribe, taking a moment to relax and breathe. Hien and Lyse were still off with Gosetsu, helping to train the Mol and make what improvements they could to their armor and weapons. They were all awaiting the Nadaam, but also word from Alphinaud, Tataru or the Resistance. Being so far out in the Steppe left them fairly cut off from most everything, and while that came with some advantages, the lack of ready communication was proving to be more than a minor annoyance. 

Gwen and Alisaie conversed only lightly, and the latter did most of the talking. She talked about X’hrun and her training, about the Mol and what she thought they might be able to improve in what little time they had left, about Urianger, and about Alphinaud and his paranoia, which was exemplified in his insistence to use only scant, vague details in his letters in case they were intercepted. Gwen was content to listen, crunching quietly on an apple while her eyes wandered around Alisaie’s general vicinity.

It was difficult to find a balance between being aware of the goings on in Eorzea and not getting caught up worrying about them; between wondering what they’d find when they returned and fearing the worst. 

Between being confident in Thancred’s abilities and worrying for his safety, wondering when --or worse, if-- she would hear from him, and the ever-looming temptation to take the absence of letters as a sign of tragedy or misfortune she was yet unaware of.

Is he even getting her letters? Rather, are they actually being delivered to him, wherever he’s gotten off to, or are the moogles dropping them all off at the Stones instead? She’d been assuming the former but, thinking about it, the latter would be easier and far more convenient for dozens of reasons. Safer, too, perhaps.

Do Imperials use post moogles? She never even thought about it.

“Well someone is lost in their head,” Alisaie's voice had the lilt of a joke. "You’ve started eating the core."

How far into Imperial territory would postmoogles go, anyway? They’re magical creatures, so perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult to flit about unseen, or use aetheric travel to cover distance quickly. But, seeing how Thancred’s usual assignments hinged on his ability to sneak around and go unnoticed, a visit from a potentially-conspicuous post moogle likely wouldn’t be appreciated.

Could that blow his cover? The thought made her stomach clench.

She quickly told herself it was a ridiculous idea, because it absolutely, certainly, definitely was, but it stuck around anyway, catching in the wrinkles and loose threads of worry and restlessness she hadn’t been able to tie up.

But what if...

Alright, now you’re just being a worrywart. Gwen scolded herself. Thancred can take care of himself, for one. And he’s got a million more important, more urgent things to do than reply to letters. Just like I do. She cast her gaze back towards the thick of the Mol camp, something like impatience stirring in her head. 

Why was it that the more important and pressing an issue or task, the more it hinged on needing to ‘hurry up and wait’?

“…Gwen?”

It was a curious thing to be confident in someone’s abilities, to trust them and their capabilities, yet worry for their safety. Having both thoughts at once, confidence but doubt, sure yet still uncertain, didn’t feel quite so contradictory or backwards and upside-down as she’d expected it to. The two thoughts wouldn’t blend together or settle on some sort of middle point or compromise, but at the same time they weren’t wholly dissonant with one another. Odd. She should write about…

Did Alisaie say something about a core? 

Gwen blinked, vision returning as she pulled her focus from her thoughts. She found Alisaie looking at her with an amused smile.

“Hm?” She mumbled eloquently through a mouthful of apple.

Alisaie replied with a teasing grin, “You were so lost in thought you started eating the core,” and gestured at the bare, half-eaten stump of apple core in Gwen’s hand. “I know you’re prone to getting lost in your head, but I didn’t realize how lost.”

Gwen’s mind blanked for a moment and she covered her pause with an awkward laugh, “I, ah… H-hey, I don’t get that lost in my head,” and she shot Alisaie with a sidelong look and matching pout.

Alisaie merely grinned wider, eyeing the half-eaten core meaningfully. “No?”

“No. I,” the seemingly innocuous phrase stuck to her tongue for a moment, weighed down by experiences she hadn’t thought of in years, “I’ve always eaten the core.”

Alisaie’s expression said she thought that was an excuse--and a poor one, at that.

Gwen made an effort to be utterly insouciant as she took another bite of the core. A difficult thing to manage under the pressure of an attentive, questioning gaze that made her momentarily forget how to not be incriminating or awkward.

Trying to chew in some sort of natural, unconcerned manner was equally difficult.  

Seeing her so determinedly sticking to her story, Alisaie cocked her head to one side and called her bluff, tone just shy of skeptical, “Always.”

Gwen shrugged, not caring to try and remember. “Since I was a child.”

The younger mage frowns slightly, looking puzzled. “Why?”

Gwen didn’t say that was a strange thing to ask, nor did she admit, because sometimes it was all I had. 

Beggars can’t be choosers, and it was food. Sure, the core was tough, but it was perfectly edible; and tasted fine, too, unless she managed to crunch down on a seed just right. 

Not wasting precious and vital things like food, particularly over such minor gripes as texture, blemishes and taste, was one of the first lessons she’d learned when she’d been struggling to provide for her brother and father. It had become all the more vital after they’d died and she’d been left alone. 

But, while simple, the truth was a dark, heavy thing that was fragile in some places and jagged in others. She’d gotten in the habit of keeping her past separate, somewhere else in her mind, but the walls that held it back were delicate. Things were already starting to leak out; she didn’t need to go inviting more.

“Just habit,” Gwen hedged, dodging around less-than-pleasant memories from her younger years that were suddenly drifting through her head like leaves on a breeze. 

Alisaie made a thoughtful sound under her breath, puzzled frown growing a little deeper. The skepticism and all hints of teasing were gone, replaced with genuine curiosity. “How’d you pick that up?”

“Ah, you know,” Gwen shrugged, “trying not to be wasteful.” Not a lie, she knew better than to try, but not quite the truth either.

Alisaie opened her mouth and then paused, her expression morphing with something that looked like realization. She abandoned whatever she was going to say in favor of casting her gaze around herself in search of something. 

Suddenly she reached out, her own discarded apple core clutched in her hand when it returned. 

She stared at it contemplatively, brows drawing together and furrowing. “You were,” she said slowly, sounding a bit like she was thinking out loud, “on your own growing up, right?”

The look on her face reminded Gwen of someone who was trying to solve one of those brain-teaser puzzles, the ones made of metal or a few pieces of wood that were so easy to take apart but so very difficult to properly reassemble. She looked like she had all of the pieces and mostly understood what the final result should look like, but she was struggling to figure out how to properly fit them together. 

Gwen nodded, wondering what she might be thinking.

“You learned botany,” Alisaie said in that same tone. “It must have made life a bit easier.”

Gwen didn’t recall saying it had been hard, though that was the truth. She should have figured that half truths would be enough for the younger red mage to start grasping the whole picture.

This was always the part where she would… leave off and withdraw. She didn’t need to say anything more, she could simply be silent and leave Alisaie with whatever conclusion she’d drawn. She was under no obligation to try and clarify or explain anything, or share more about herself than she already had. 

It’s not the first time her friends have been curious --far from it, even-- and it wouldn’t be the first time she tiptoed around details and skirted the truth. She rarely volunteered much information about herself, and even when asked she tended to answer in halves and vagaries before nudging the conversation elsewhere. Everyone had things about themselves that they kept secret, including the Scions, and they all had their own ways of avoiding discussing them.

She wasn’t... doing it because she was embarrassed, really--though there was certainly a smidgen of that. Or maybe more than a smidgen. Even knowing other Scions, including Thancred, had their own less-than-auspicious beginnings didn’t fully erase her self-consciousness and unease about her own. 

But more than that, she...liked the way her friends viewed her now, and she couldn’t help wondering how becoming aware of her past might affect that. Maybe it would impact their view of her, or how they acted. Maybe it would just be a fact to file away, and nothing else. 

Gwen was sure nothing would change for the worst, at least, and that was a comfort. Her friends weren’t the sort of people that judged others based on upbringing or means, and it wasn’t like she was some sort of sordid criminal confessing to their past misdeeds or anything like that. 

Still,  it was like divulging a secret, which was always something of a nerve-wracking prospect. Telling them would --could, rather; might-- change something. Somehow. 

But was that really such a bad thing? No. Everyone and everything changed all the time. Her friends wouldn’t think less of her for her past, nor whatever means she’d had to resort to or adopt in order to take care of herself. They would merely... know. That was all. Knowing wasn’t a bad thing.

They didn’t need to know, maybe, but it wasn’t about need. It was about trusting her friends, and being open and honest with them. And herself, in a way.

Gwen had recently been coming to the realization that she was not very much of either. Out loud, anyway. And she wanted to change that.

But right now?

She considered it, feeling the smooth peel and rough, stumpy stem of her apple core.

Now.

“Usually. Not always,” Gwen said mildly.

Alisaie’s look came apart a little, her expected solution coming undone when the pieces didn’t fit. Her brows furrowed as she began thinking again.

“The Twelveswood has seasons, just like everywhere else, and... Not much grows in winter,” Gwen went on with a shrug. “But even then, everything doesn’t always work out for the best. Things were just,” she hesitated, trying to find a word, “rough sometimes. And sometimes there was nothing that could be done about it except... dealing with it. I learned to made the best of what I had.”  

She ate the last of her core. “A lot of it became habit.”

That all felt very ‘half’ still, even though she’d made an effort to actually try and at least give her the general picture. Not specific, maybe, but less vague. And it was also true, which was like being honest. It was enough to give clarity, at least, and let Alisaie see that she still had a few things misaligned.

Sure enough, a look of comprehension came over Alisaie’s face that was more gray and melancholic than Gwen had expected. Part is consideration, maybe trying to imagine going through such things herself, and part of it is the sort of look that said she might be feeling as though she should have been able to notice or figure all that out on her own, without having to have it laid out for her.

Gwen’s mouth twisted and she almost winced. This was part of the reason she didn’t enjoy talking about growing up. It always hit others harder than it hit her, as she had lived her whole life with it and they were only just finding out, and always brought down the mood much too far for much too long. She should say something to--

Alisaie exhaled sharply through her nose, her look of realization suddenly hardened into one of resolve.

She turned a determined glower on her apple core, staring hard and thinking harder. Then she gripped the core tight and bit the top off with one sharp motion. 

Gwen blinked dumbly at her, watching her face scrunch with displeasure as she chewed.

“Wh...?” Gwen mumbled uselessly, bewildered.

Alisaie turned that sharp look on her, daring her to question the action and whatever resolve or realization it signified.

But she hadn’t been intending to eat it before, not until Gwen had explained...

Oh... Comprehension came together slowly, congealing into something warm and heavy that settled snugly in Gwen’s chest, faint amusement rippling after it. She softened and slouched, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

Eventually, when Alisaie appeared to almost be done chewing, Gwen motioned a bit listlessly at the core, “You’re, ah, supposed to eat it from the bottom up.”

Alisaie froze, eyes widening. She looked like Gwen had just told her she’d eaten something poisonous, one cheek bulging like a nutkin. It was almost comical. 

But Gwen enjoyed living, so she kept her amusement to herself. She couldn’t keep a smile off her face, but she made it warm and friendly rather than amused. “It tastes better that way.”

Alisaie resumed chewing and scowling. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

----------------------------

Thanks to the bestest beta reader ever: @rhymingteelookatme :D *throws confetti*

I got the idea and ran with it and then it got kind of anime-y lol

Need moar Alisaie

[northamptoncouplestherapy]

For most couples, the path to marriage is the same. You meet, you spend time getting to know each other, and you fall in love. You discover life could not exist without your partner, so you get married. After marriage, masks are removed. You discover the true nature of the person you walked down the aisle with: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Perhaps you were aware of some of their faults during the courtship. Yet, you accepted them as they were. Maybe you even thought that they would change, or that you could change them.

Every couple enters marriage with the illusion of bliss. From the time a couple first says “I do” and checks into their honeymoon suite, the plans for their future are formed. Then, dreams are unfolded, and life happily-ever-after begins. But no couple ever considers that they could fall victim to a codependent marriage.

What is Codependency?

Every marriage will have struggles. From mortgages to who left the milk out, married life is not without conflict. Your marriage will be no different. What matters is how you handle that conflict.

Dr. John Gottman of the Gottman Institute states, “Conflict is inevitable.” He goes on to encourage couples saying, “It can be a way that couples get closer to each other if they can understand each other more fully. It is a mechanism for learning how to love each other better.” This is determined by how you handle conflict.

Dr. Gottman asks, Do you:

Turn toward? – Sit down and discuss it rationally?

Turn away? – Ignore it, bottle it up, or sweep it under the rug?

Turn against? – Explode and call out the fault displayed?

“Turn away” conflict can create a lopsided marriage. When one person commits an offense, the other smiles and takes it. They can internalize it and even feel guilty. When these individuals continue this cycle, they end up in a codependent marriage.

Within a codependent marriage, one partner has extreme emotional or physical needs, and the other partner is willing to do whatever it takes to meet those needs. The codependent is so in love, and they want that love reciprocated. Out of fear of rejection, they do what they feel is necessary to keep the love and attention of their partner. This can become disastrous when the other partner is involved in self-destructive behavior, including substance abuse.

How Does Codependency Affect a Marriage?

In many cases, codependency doesn’t suddenly begin with courtship or marriage. This trait is often learned through the growing up process. Since a child's adult behavior will be the byproduct of life experiences, he or she must grow up with positive influences. When a child is privy to relational negativity, they will continue these bad habits because they think it’s normal life. The same applies to codependency.

If a child sees one parent bowing to every need of the other, then that child will be more likely to view those behaviors as necessary to keep a romantic relationship alive. This pattern can be manifested in a few distinct ways: low self-esteem, the loss of boundaries between right and wrong, and an unhealthy obsession with the relationship.

Low Self-Esteem – When someone feels they are unworthy, any affection they receive is like water on dry soil; it immediately soaks in. Doing whatever they need to keep the water flowing, even if the process hurts.  Living off the other’s opinions, allowing them to define their self-worth. But soothing words only last so long. The soil will dry up, and negative feelings will resurface until the next affirmation comes along.

Loss of Boundaries – The desire to please others removes boundaries regarding what is acceptable behavior. The codependent often defends their partner’s behavior, allowing them to say and do things that not only harms themselves but harms the relationships around them. They avoid saying ‘no’ to their spouse at all cost, fearing it would make them unhappy.

Honesty is another factor that affects the codependent. When they are afraid of offending their partner, they tend to lie and deny that there is a problem, just to keep the peace.

Obsessiveness – The need to always keep their partner happy can become obsessive. In fact, they will get upset with anyone who throws that balance off. Their obsession is the other person. They want their acceptance, need their approval, and are terrified of losing it. So, they will often do what it takes to keep their spouse engaged in the relationship. Even if it means giving in to their destructive habits.

How Substance Abuse Affects the Behaviors of a Codependent Partner

When one partner has a substance abuse problem, this only increases the codependency. The codependent spouse can act out of fear, habit, or even worse, pity. They might want to help their spouse, but sometimes the thing they do is the very thing their spouse doesn’t need. Caretaking is enabling. Silence is acceptance. But to the codependent, the consequences of saying something is too much of a price to pay. So, they often continue permitting the habit, acting in ways that are centered around keeping the peace.

Codependent fear exists on different levels:

Fear of rejection by the partner.

Fear of failing the partner.

Fear of what could happen if you don’t live up to the expectations.

Through these fears, the codependent’s submission continues. They live in a constant state of negativity and amplified fear, as if they are walking on eggshells, always trying to help but never sure if it is what their spouse wants.

Dr. Gottman says of a negative outlook, “They can distort reality and even see positive things as potential put-downs.” He also says that with that negative perspective you will “fail to see 50 percent of the positive things the other partner is doing.” Even when a codependent spouse is trying to do good, their partner may not notice. Or worse, they may misinterpret it as something negative.

Finally, there is the fear of losing the relationship if the situation is resolved. The codependent might feel their spouse or partner will not need them anymore and leave.

Actions out of Habit – Just like driving on the right side of the road, we do things repeatedly because they have become habits. It would seem abnormal to do things any other way. This is also something that is learned young. If you have a habit of keeping your mouth shut at a parental scolding, you will most likely keep your mouth shut with the scolding from a spouse.

Additionally, just as we saw our parents argue, or how they made, up, we will behave the same way with our spouses. The cycle continues in what we think we should do, and without any correction from an outside source, we perpetuate the behaviors we have learned.

Clinician and couples therapy thought leader Dr. Stan Tatkin reminds us that, “We all come [to the relationship] with our fair share of unresolved painful experiences from relationships.” These issues become ingrained in who we are. And will determine how we react to conflict with our current partner. These habits can evolve into codependent habits.

Whether we know it or not, we tend to view the people we engage with through the lens of the past. Tatkin calls the areas of our brain that have assimilated such behavior “primitives.” They act out of habit, based on personal experiences. Codependency can very well reflect those primitives in action.

Actions out of Pity – The excuses the codependent uses to justify their partner’s actions can sound pretty defensive:

What can I do? They don’t know any better. Their dad drank or their mom was an addict. They need me to help them. If I’m not there, things would be worse. I am able to make excuses to their boss, their friends, their family for why they are acting that way. If I don’t, they would be jobless, friendless, and family would keep their distance.

But it is important to remember the chasm between pity and love. Love is about respect. You cannot respect someone you pity. Just a sorrowful ache that a codependent tries to make up for through attempts to hide their spouse’s shortcomings. Covering up becomes a habit, then helping becomes an addiction in itself. The codependent partner can become so dependent on their spouse that defending them has become their identity.

Ways to Deal with Substance Abuse in a Codependent Marriage

When a marriage falls into codependence, the codependent partner becomes an enabler to the abusive habits. While they may genuinely want to help, their codependence becomes an addiction of its own. This traps both in a cycle that can only be broken by getting help. Not just for the substance abuse, but for the codependency.

First, admit There is a Problem

To begin the road to recovery, you must admit there is a problem. Just as the partner with the substance abuse issue is reluctant to admit they have a problem; the Codependent partner shares the same reluctance to accept they have a problem. Unfortunately, the Codependent may be standing in the way of the abusing partner overcoming their issues. Their enabling habits never give the abusing partner the opportunity to get out of their destructive patterns.

Then, Stop Enabling

Once both spouses realize that they are in too deep and need help, they can begin the road to recovery. The next step is to stop the process from continuing. This is probably the toughest step. It begins with setting firm boundaries. The codependent needs to stop enabling their spouse. And on the opposite end, the spouse with the addiction needs to quit their abusive behavior that feeds the addiction of the enabler.

Next, Seek Professional Help

Seeking help is never easy. It means airing your laundry outside the confines of your home. Seeking substance abuse help is just the beginning. A codependent habit can be just as challenging to overcome. They should also undergo some form of treatment for their codependency.

Follow-up

You can admit there is a problem, set boundaries, and seek professional help, but you must always continue to move forward. It is never one and done. It is never a completed task. It is a minute-by-minute, day-by-day process.

Final Thoughts

Even when you gain a grasp of the situation, continue the new healthy habits you and your spouse have learned. Eventually, it becomes easier. It is a long process, but one worth fighting for. The ability to repair the broken relationship will strengthen your marriage. As Dr. Gottman says in his Making Relationships Work seminar, “Every relationship experiences conflict and periods of alienation. The difference between the Masters and the Disasters is they’re able to repair.”

While codependency gives the appearance of a happy marriage, it is based on pretenses. It is always a fragile relationship. Yes, there may be peace, but the tiniest spark can set the whole thing ablaze. All it takes is for someone to go too far, then happiness quickly dissolves, and animosity takes its place.

Admit there is a problem, get help, and keep at it. Don’t give up on your spouse.

Understand that there will be setbacks; substance abuse is not easy to overcome. Neither is a codependency issue. But together you can work on repairing your relationship and living the life that you envisioned from day one.

If you are having trouble coping with codependency or a host of other possible marriage challenges, reaching out to a licensed couples therapist might be the way to go.

From the Gottman Method to Emotionally Focused Therapy to the PACT model, we apply science-based methodologies to every couples retreat or couples therapy weekend we offer. We also offer weekly sessions for those who can't find time to break away during the week.

Like what you’ve read? Sign up to receive my musings filled with heart, concrete tools, and cutting edge resources via my blog: Loving Well.

[flve-hargreeves]

( chris wood, 28, he/him ) class is in session for ANSEM WARBECK. their resume says they’re a WITCH and they’ve been teaching MENTAL MAGIC at the academy for THREE YEARS. the psychological report says they are LETHARGIC and CONTEMPTUOUS, but they’re also IRONWILLED and COMPASSIONATE. we wish them good luck in the new school year.  

— * | ansem warbeck is the oldest child of ragnor and celena warbeck. he has a twin brother named arson and while they are identical, they couldn’t be more different. both ragnor and celena are influential members of the magical community and always prided themselves on having a stellar reputation. stellar isn’t quite so stellar though; they are morally gray.  they  never get into dark magic themselves, but their family has profited heavily from it over the years.  ( think … war profiteers, i guess.  they never get their hands dirty but they have plenty of blood money ).  arson is the dutiful son, the good son, and ansem’s always been the disappointment who couldn’t live up to their expectations.  ( the michael bluth )

 ansem was never good at doing what he was told and rebelled against the behaviours his parents tried to ingrain in him. he never listened, always liked to do his own thing, and never bought into the whole ‘pureblood supremacy’ thing that they tried to drill into his head.  so what if they came from an old witch family? la creme de la crop? magic was magic. he figured if you could do it, you were just as good as anyone else.  ( his family disagreed. )  he  started  at  arcanas  when  he  was  eleven,  like  his  descendants  before  him,  and  was  a  member  of  house  aquis.  

       personality wise, ansem is sharp, sarcastic, and doesn’t have a high tolerance for people. the list of people he dislikes is longer than those he likes. he likes to have a good laugh ( sometimes at the expense of others ) and isn’t one to take on responsibility. ironic, given he’s now teaching at the school he used to go to. for someone as intelligent as he is, he does the least amount of work possible and does well but never really exceeds his own expectations. he’s incredibly lazy and can usually be found snacking or napping around the school.

 shortly after graduation he worked as a for hire curse breaker.  if there was a hex you couldn’t undo, or a curse on your family name, he was the guy you called to fix it.  he was good too.  it was only after a curse backfired and nearly killed him that he got scared and backed out of it. the fear was greater than the love he had.  arcanas was safe, a reminder of good days (and far far away from his family) so he was happy to ya yeet out of the real world.  less than a year after graduation, he was enrolled at a magical college and eventually became a mental magic teacher.

 another  point  of  irony,  given  how  much  he  claims  to  hate  people,  is  the  story  of  how  a  twenty/twenty one  year  old  mess  accidentally  adopted  an  eleven  year  old.   it  was  an  assignment  from  one  of  the  teachers  or  housemasters,  a  mentorship  program  between  tenth  and  first  years.  he  was  assigned  jade  brantley  and  at  first  ?  oh  boy  did  he  hate  her.   or  rather,  the  responsibility  he  felt  towards  her.   it  became  pretty  evident  the  more  he  got  to  know  her  that  they  were  put  together  for  a  reason.   her  family  had  sent  her  to  arcanas  without  so  much  as  a  second  look  and  couldn’t  have  cared  less  if  they  ever  saw  her  again.   she  stayed  behind  at  the  school  for  christmas,  as  did  he  to  avoid  tense  family  dinners  with  the  warbecks,  and  that  was  when  their  mentorship  started  to  become  more  like  family.   

by  the  end  of  the  year,  he  looked  at  her  like  —  his  kid,  if  he  was  being  honest.   it  was  kind  of  terrifying,  wanting  to  protect  another  person  from  the  realities  of  their  life,  but  he  knew  it  was  the  right  decision  to  make.  it  helped  that  his  partner  agreed;   they’d  come  to  care  about  jade  in  those  months  too,  and  they  both  knew  it  was  the  right  call.   he  contacted  her  parents,  assumed  temporary  guardianship,  and  she  moved  in  with  them  that  summer  after  they  graduated.   (  the individual that set all of this up,  the  cheeky  bastard,  sent  them  a  potted  plant  as  a  housewarming  gift.   a  plant  that  would  have  needed  to  have  been  potted  SIX  MONTHS  EARLIER.   he’d  be  mad  about  getting  played  if  he  wasn’t  so  happy.  )

they  formally  adopted  jade  a  few  years  later.  they  were  already  family  in  everything  but  blood  and  name  —  it  was  simply  a  formality.   the  three  of  them  —  four,  if  you  counted  jessica  the  cat  (  famously  known  for  stepping  on  faces  )  —  had  been  more  of  a  family  than  any  of  his  blood  relatives  had  ever  been.     he’s  never  regretted  his  choices.

that  being  said,  things  weren’t  always  happy.  he  and  his  partner  fought  a  lot,  sometimes  over  nothing  and  couldn’t  remember  why  they  ever  loved  each  other  in  the  first  place.  but  this  isn't  a  story  about  vindictive  exes,  it's  about  two  people  that  do  love  each  other,  probably  always  will,  but  just  didn't  love  being  together  anymore.  they're  excellent  co-parents  to  their  adopted  daughter  and  they're  working  their  way  back  to  being  best  friends  even  though  it's  a  little  awkward.  they  split  up  roughly  three  years  ago,  shortly  after  ansem  started  teaching  at  arcanas.

he  was  a  bit  of  a  mess  that  first  year,  i  won’t  lie.  he  probably  drank  too  much,  smoked  like  a  chimney,  and  was  trying  to  remember  how  to  be  a  person  instead  of  1/2  of  a  couple.  he’d  been  with  his  partner  almost  his  entire  life,  it  was  a  process  —  discovering  himself  again.  he  eventually  started  seeing  jude  montague  (  who,  ironically,  he’d  always  had  a  schoolboy  crush  on  when  he  was  a  student  )  who  also  taught  at  the  school.  one  thing  led  to  another  and  they’ve  recently  taken  things  to  the  next  level:  they  got  married.   ansem’s  still  a  little  terrified  this  one  is  going  to  go  belly  up  too,  that  he’s  going  to  mess  things  up,  but  they’re  still  in  the  newlywed  phase  so  he’s  not  quite  as  pessimistic  on  their  outlook.   it  also  helps  that  his  family  hates  jude:   1.  he’s  much  older,  even  without  the  whole  phoenix  thing,  2.  he’s  not  a  pureblood  witch  who  comes  from  a  good  family  name,  and  3.  he’s  a  man.   yeah,  celena  warbeck  was  not  happy  and  threatened  to  cut  him  off.   she  didn’t,  of  course,  but  his  father  hasn’t  spoken  a  single  word  to  him  ever  since  they  got  married.  it’s  a  game  now,  trying  to  see  if  he  can  say  or  do  something  to  make  him  break.  so  far,  he  hasn’t  won.  

 when  he’s  not  staying  at  arcanas,  watching  over  his  water  demons,  he’s  at  his  house  nearby.   now  that  he’s  married  jude,  however,  the  clan  (  bc  ansem  doesn’t  go  anywhere  without  jade,  jessica,  and  by  extension  kit  )  will  be  moving  into  his  definitely-haunted  house  nearby.  it’s  an  old  victorian,  fits  jude’s  goth  boy  aesthetic  perfectly,  and  tbh  as  long  as  it  has  decent  wifi  and  an  espresso  machine?  he’ll  be  fine.  

     he’s been teaching mental magic at arcanas academy for three years, so connections can be assumed with other staff members and students !!   he’s also been the housemaster for aquis, who he refers to as his water demons, so that’s opportunities for connections too! ( there’s also a 99% chance he calls all of his students by pokemon names. sorry not sorry. )   he’s  your  typical  panic  first,  think  logically  later,  type  person,  so  if  he  heard  about  the  orb  being  stolen  he’d  fear  for  their  inevitable  demise.   y’know,  chaotic  and  assuming  the  worst  case  scenario  from  the  get  go.

so that’s basically him in essence.  see some quick stats below for more tidbits.

*

— * | BASICS !

NAME: — ansem ragnorius warbeck.

NICKNAME(S): — ansem.

PRONOUNS: —he/him.

AGE/DOB: — twenty seven / july 25th.  (  he’s  almost  28,  so  don’t  @  me  )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: — pansexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: — panromantic.

ETHNICITY: — caucasian.

NATIONALITY: — british.

HOMETOWN: — manchester, uk.

EDUCATION: — he previously attended  arcanas, aquis house.  four  years  @  a  magical  college  near  aurora  /  arcanas  school. 

— * | PERSONALITY !

STAR SIGN: — leo.

PERSONALITY TYPE: — ESTP.

ALIGNMENT: — chaotic neutral.

PHOBIA(S): — enclosed spaces, clowns, snakes.

VICE(S): — cynicism, impatience, vindictiveness, spitefulness.

VIRTUE(S): — accountability, candor, realism, honesty, loyalty.

— * | RELATIONS !

PARENT(S): — ragnor and celena warbeck.

SIBLING(S): — arson warbeck ( twin brother. )

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): —  married.

— * | PHYSICAL !

FACECLAIM: — chris wood.

HEIGHT: — 6'0.

WEIGHT: — 71kg.

EYE COLOR: — brown.

HAIR COLOR: — brown.

GLASSES/CONTACTS: — n/a.

TATTOOS: — n/a.

PIERCINGS: — n/a.

SCARS: — jagged scar across his collarbone.

— * | MEDICAL !

ALLERGIES: — shellfish.

SMOKING/ALCOHOL/DRUGS: — former smoker. he hasn’t had a cigarette in approx. 112 days.  he drinks more than he should.  no drug use.

DIAGNOSES: — n/a.

BLOOD TYPE: — universal donor.

***

AESTHETICS:

NEATLY  TRIMMED  BEARD,  LAZY  SMIRKS,  SARCASTIC  QUIPS.  THE  MICHAEL  BLUTH.  REAL  LIFE  NATHAN  DRAKE.  BLEEDS  COFFEE  NOT  BLOOD.  UNHEALTHY  OBSESSION  WITH  TEEN MAGAZINE  QUIZZES.

CONNECTIONS  

students  with  an  aptitude  for  mental  magic  that  he  provides  additional  /  advanced  work  for  to  challenge  them.  (2/2)  dominic masters & rome hawks.

students  who  need  extra  help  in  one  or  more  of  the  aspects  of  his  curriculum.  this  would  include  after  hours  help,  extra  assignments,  or  one  on  one  attention  if  they  were  struggling  with  concepts  (1/4):  ella  bloom.

students  that  give  him  a  hard  time  in  class  for  one  reason  or  another.  could  be  people  who  sleep  in  class,  talk  back,  distract  others,  etc.  (1/??):  morgan  stife.

the  unholy  trinity:  fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  be  chaotic,  shittalk  their  students,  and  forget  they’re  not  seventeen  anymore  bc  they’re  fucking  idiots  who  like  to  troll  (2/2):  maximus & reserved

fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  drink  wine  after  stressful  days,  or  just  when  they  feel  like  it  tbh.  (1/????)  maxwell gray.

a  rival/enemy  from  when  he  was  @  arcanas  who  now  also  works  at  arcanas.  he  can’t  remember  why  they  don’t  like  each  other  but  he’s  dedicated  to  the  feud.  it’s  petty,  he  knows, but  he  sucks  at  admitting  he’s  wrong.  (0/1)

ex-wife.  see  wanted  connections.  (0/1)

childhood  friend.  fellow  witches  who  would  have  hung  around  people  who  were  haughty  and  thought  they  were  better  than  everyone  else.  ansem’s  parents  thought  they  were  hot  shit  so  maybe  their  parents  felt  the  same.  they  both  rebelled  against  what  their  parents  wanted  for  them  and  it  bonded  them.  (0/1)

partner  in  crime.  (28  years  old)  this  person  was  very  different  from  ansem.  different  species,  a  little  more  serious,  the  kind  of  person  you  wouldn’t  expect  to  be  friends  with  him.  they’re  probably  the  only  reason  ansem  even  passed  his  exams,  forced  to  study,  and  he  forced  this  friend  to  actually  have  fun  and  live  a  little.  they’re  still  close  but  maybe  fell  out  of  touch  over  the  years.  this  person  would  be  new  to  arcanas  as  a  staff  member,  or  teacher,  but  would  be  an  alumnus  preferably  from  house  aquis  but  could  be  any.  

others  to  be  added  when  it  isn’t  2am  and  my  brains  fried.

[bee-kathony]

Lift Me Up | Sam and Caitriona AU 

Sam and Caitriona get stuck in an elevator at work... what happens next?

It was just like any other day. If that day included getting stuck in a lift with your co-star that you were trying not to have feelings for. And by trying, you weren’t really trying at all.

Sam and Caitriona had to be on set in twenty minutes. Season five had just started and it was a nice feeling to be back on set with all the cast and crew they loved. It was like a big family, where everyone got along. For the most part.

It had been a weird back and forth thing between Sam and Caitriona over the break. They’d spent weeks together in Hawaii and days together in New York. They had lunch in Los Angeles and spent their nights together. But it couldn’t work… it shouldn’t work. Truth be told, they were both lying to themselves about how they felt. They knew they loved one another, that much was obvious.

What they needed was a divine intervention to say what they needed to without any interruptions.

Today, they were filming in Cumbernauld, doing some interior shots. Caitriona checked her phone and saw she still had time for a quick snack from craft services, which happened to be on the second floor. Walking over to the lift, she saw that Sam was already standing there waiting.

“Happy about your new wig?” She smiled, pointing to it on his head.

“Oh, God yes. It’s still a wig so it itches, but those bangs were a menace,” he smirked. “Yours looks better too.”

“Thank you,” she tugged on the end of hers, loose and curly. “I always preferred Claire’s hair down anyways.”

“Me too,” Sam smiled and then the lift dinged and the doors opened. He held out his hand, signaling for her to go first. She mumbled a thank you and walked past him. It was always a bit strange on set with each other. People knew about them, but didn’t say anything because of the NDA’s everyone signed.

Which meant on set they were more free, but they also felt guilty for not telling the truth. That they belonged together and that it shouldn’t be kept a secret.

Caitriona pressed the number 2 button to go up to craft services and the doors closed.

“Twenty minutes right?” She confirmed.

“Aye, I think so, at least that’s what my call sheet says,” Sam smiled down at her.

All of a sudden, the lights flickered and the lift shook, halting to a stop. The emergency lights came on inside, creating a dark glow. The lift had stopped.

“Fucking hell!” Sam said and pressed the doors open button, but nothing happened.

“Press the call button,” Cait suggested, coming over to look. Sam pressed it, but nothing happened. “Are we trapped?!”

“Maybe the power went out?” Sam pulled out his phone… no signal. “Shit, do you have signal?”

Caitriona checked her phone and to her surprise, no signal. “What are we going to do? Does anyone even know we’re in here?”

“Maybe if we bang on the doors?” Sam shrugged, laughing a bit.

“Worth a shot,” Caitriona smiled in light of the situation and they both banged their hands on the lift doors, shouting for help. “There’s only three floors, surely someone is walking by.”

Sam banged harder, his hand banging against the metal. “If the power is out then when it comes back on, the lift will start up again.”

“So we just have to wait?”

“What?” Sam looked at her, “I’m not about to push ye up the lift like some movie, Cait.”

Caitriona looked up at the top of the lift, but there was no such paneling like in the movies where one could escape. “Shit, we’re stuck. Are you sure you don’t have signal?”

“No,” he checked again. “I don’t.” Sam sighed and sat down on the ground, defeated, knowing nothing they did would help them. They would simply have to wait it out. “Come sit down, Balfe. You standing up isn’t going to make the doors open.”

“Shut it,” she smirked and then joined him on the ground. “I’m fucking hungry,” she sighed, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

“Oh, I have some nuts in the sporran,” Sam reached into his sporran and pulled out a packet of nuts, handing them to her.

“Of course you do,” she smiled, shaking her head in laughter as he took them. This felt like some kind of cliche, being stuck in a lift. Did these things really happen?

“At least we have to be on set soon and when we don’t show up, they’ll come looking for us,” Cait shrugged as she started eating the nuts.

“Or they’ll think we’re off fucking,” Sam said before he could think.

Caitriona said nothing to this, knowing it wasn’t a lie. They’d been late to set a few times because of that very reason, but she didn’t need to bring that up again just now.

“Are you happy to be back?” She asked instead.

“Yeah,” Sam scratched at his head, wishing he could take off the wig. “I mean it’s long days and hard work sometimes, but I love it here. I love being on set with everyone. You?”

“Yeah I am,” Cait smiled and crossed her legs out in front of her. “I hate getting up in the mornings and getting home late sometimes, but set life is pretty fun. Besides, there are worse jobs we could be doing.”

“What, like being a model?” Sam nudged her in the ribs.

“You wish you were a model,” Cait laughed, nudging him back. “You have a pretty good runway walk, I must admit.”

“Learned from the best,” Sam looked at her. It was dark in the lift, just the glow of the emergency lights. “And…” he added, “I like our Scottish bubble.”

Caitriona smiled and looked down at her hands to avoid his eyes. “I like it too.”

They were both quiet for a few minutes, both wondering idly how much longer they would be stuck — it was getting hot.

Sam stood up and removed his jacket, laying it in the corner, careful not to get it messed up. “You wanna take off your knit shawl thing as well?”

“Sure,” Cait shrugged and stood up too, removing first her shawl and then the next layer of her costume. If the power didn’t come back on soon, they’d both need to keep stripping off layers.

“Cait,” Sam said at the same time that she said, “Sam.”

“You first,” Sam said, laughing.

“Do you ever feel guilty? For what we’re doing? I mean, we spent the better part of the break together and we practically live together, but then…” she held up her left hand where the engagement ring usually was. Instead she was wearing Claire’s wedding bands, but he knew what she meant.

“I do, but then I remember why we’re doing this. You know how I feel about you, about us…” Sam took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “We both know that the engagement is just a farce. A way to protect our privacy. You said it yourself.”

“I know I did,” Cait ran her free hand over her head, then remembered she was wearing the wig. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m lying to everyone, to my friends and family. Our co-workers.”

“Trust me, Cait. People aren’t as dumb as we’d like to think they are,” he laughed. “People know. If they have eyes, they know. It’s just us… that needs to figure it out, once and for all.”

“Are you saying… you want to tell the truth?” Cait looked up at him, shocked. “I thought this was the plan. So that we wouldn’t have so many people asking about us.”

“You said it yourself, we spent the break together, we basically live together, and most people have already figured it out by now, but are too kind to say anything,” he shrugged and then cupped her cheek. “Aren’t you tired of hiding?”

Cait didn’t know what to say. Yes, of course she was, but she’d built up a wall so high around herself she wasn’t sure where to begin tearing it down. They’d lied… about their relationship, about her engagement. It wasn’t real, it never had been. Tony was her assistant and friend, nothing more. But, she still held back from Sam because she was afraid of getting hurt and having the world know.

“Yes,” she finally said and squeezed his hand back. “I am tired of it. I just don’t know if I’m ready to share you.”

“Technically, ye already have been sharin’ me,” he smiled and moved his thumb over her lip. “But its our life and no one can get in the way of that. Everyone will just have to accept it… whenever you’re ready of course.”

“And besides,” Sam slid his hands to her waist. “We can still keep our relationship private, but we don’t need to hide it anymore.”

“I don’t want to hide it,” Caitriona gave in and stood up on her toes to kiss him. It was relief she was feeling as she melted into him. They’d been avoiding this conversation for some time now. Years actually. “I just want you,” she said softly against his lips.

“I’m yours, Balfe,” Sam kissed her. “I always have been and I always will be.”

As small as it was, the lift was a good a place as any and with the power not coming back on any time soon, they started to rid each other of the rest of their costumes.

“Now I really hope that the power doesn’t come back on,” Sam laughed as he untied the laces of his trousers. Caitriona was wearing thick skirts and she was only sliding out of the first layer, still in her shift. “Damn it,” he couldn’t wait.

Sam pressed her against the wall making it shake, his hands roamed her waist and squeezed. She kissed him, her belly aching and burning as he touched her. He lifted one leg and brought it around his waist, pushing her shift up around her hips.

“No panties?” He asked as his fingers pressed lightly against her.

She moaned and bit her lip, her own hand pressing firmly against Sam’s cock through his boxers. “Not today, no. Don’t you usually go commando, Heughan?”

“Unfortunately not today,” he laughed and then grunted as she pressed her hand harder against him. Slowly, Cait hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down over his arse. His cock jutted out, erect and throbbing for her.

“I didn’t expect this when I came into the lift,” she looked down, sliding her finger along the shaft.

“Fuck,” he muttered between his teeth and looked down at her hand touching him. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“Really?” Cait smirked and stroked him and pressed her hips against him. Ever so slightly, the tip of him grazed her entrance and they both let out a simultaneous moan. Sam couldn’t take it anymore — he grabbed her hands and lifted them up above her head. Her leg was still around his hip and so all he had to do was push forward and was home.

“You’re so wet, fuck,” Sam held onto her hips and when she tried to let her hand fall on top of his shoulder he shook his head. “Up.”

Cait whined a bit, a sound that went straight to his cock and he pressed his lips against hers. Even with no hands, she was still able to twist her hips in a slow motion. He began to thrust, relentless and without abandon. He wanted her and he wanted her to know she was his and much as he was hers.

“I need you,” he muttered and then Cait was pushing off the wall and using her hands to push him to the ground. She settled on top of him, and he had to move his legs up because he was too tall for the lift. His hands squeezed her hips as she started to move up and down the length of him, taking him in.

He was hot and slick and filled her so completely. She remembered the first time she’d been with him, how sore she’d been for days after. Sam was big, but her body accommodated him well. Caitriona moved her hips, rolling them in time with his thrusts.

His hands traveled along her stomach and then rested over her breasts, squeezing over the thin material of the shift. She was becoming more restless, needing some kind of relief. Sam sat up as best he could, capturing her mouth with his and then licked along her jaw and neck.

Cait grabbed onto his shoulders and soon it was her now on the ground, with Sam looming above her. He held onto her legs, lifting them in the air and pressed harder into her. It was overwhelming, to feel him like this.

“I want you, Cait…” he moaned and looked down at where he was sliding in and out of her. “I want you anyway that I can.” She reached up for him, pulling him down and he landed on her breasts instead. He began to suck on her nipple over the material, leaving a wet spot. The sensation was enough to drive her crazy and she felt her climax coming quickly.

“Sam, please…” he heard it in her voice — how close she was. He angled his hips and kept up his pace all while he nibbled and sucked on her breasts. Cait began to call out his name and that was all he needed to finish, his body trembling as she flexed her thighs around him.

He pressed himself over her, rolling onto their sides as best they could in the small space. Caitriona pressed her hand over his cheek, rubbing at his scruff. They both breathed hard, still feeling that rush of adrenaline.

“I guess I’m glad the lift is broken,” she laughed.

“I am too,” Sam kissed her nose. “But I think someone will notice when they see the state of our wigs.”

“Oh shit,” Cait burst into a laugh, her hand skimming over the top of Sam’s head.

“We can say that we both got scared and when the lift shook, we grabbed onto each other’s head,” he shrugged.

“That’s the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard, Sam,” Cait chuckled. “We just won’t say anything.”

“No,” he smiled and sighed. “But I’m sure someone knows we’re in here with all that sound you were making.”

Caitriona hit him lightly on the shoulder and he laughed, but pulled her close, still inside of her. His cock twitched and she rolled her hips against him. “Again?” He asked.

“You’re the one who hasn’t pulled out!” Cait laughed and then moaned as he pushed forward.

The power wouldn’t come back on for another hour, giving them plenty of time to finish what they’d started. It took being stuck in a lift for them to finally admit what they wanted and what they need to do. And no one did ask any questions when they finally came out of the lift, half dressed in their costumes and wigs on sideways. Because everyone knew… all it took was a pair of eyes to see the love that was between them.

[pianoperson]

Cradlesona

I have worked on this for two days but I am finally done with my Cradlesona!!

@lovingsiriusoswald Thank you for starting this trend!

Now, introducing my Cradlesona: Angel Burnham! (or is it really her name...)

This is my first digital drawing so it looks wack shhhhhhh

A brief warning, though: Personality might confuse you because of the way I wrote it. I’ll make a much better version of this, however.

Basic Info:

Name: Angel Burnham (It is not her real name, however.)

Nickname: Angel

Birthday: December 12

Age: 22

Height: 150cm

Blood Type: O+

Physical:

Eyes: Her right eye is a natural brown color. Her left eye, however, is akin to a galaxy. It became like so when her magical abilities decided to show themselves while playing the piano one day. Nobody knows how the galaxy pattern was made permanent on her eye (nor do they know why her eyes become the colors of space when she uses magic instead of the typical red).

Hair: Dark brown hair, which can look black in some angles, while in other angles, it looks more brown (the image shows it brown however).

Accessories: She has two rosary bracelets on her left wrist and a St. Benedict ring on her left middle finger.

Features: Other than her left eye, there isn’t anything about her that stands out.

Illnesses: Aside from allergies to most seafood except fish, none

Social:

Affiliation: Neutral at first, Red Army later on

Occupations: Originally worked as a waitress in a cafe, but sometime after the day she found out about her magic, she was recruited by the Red Army to help them in the war.

Relationships:

Blanc: He and Angel are friends. Blanc let her stay in his house, gave her a place to stay when she wanted to move out, and was the one who helped her find a job in Cradle. He does this as an apology for accidentally bringing her to Cradle. Blanc, alongside Oliver, are the only ones who really know where Angel is from.

Oliver: At first, Angel was intimidated by him due to his less than friendly first impression. But within the time she spent living with him and Blanc, they were able to get to know each other and become friends through ranting.

Fenrir: When he stops by to pick up something from Oliver, he would occasionally chat with Angel. He gave her a tour around Cradle as well.

Edgar: Edgar may be kind to her, but something about his smile was sketchy to her. She doesn’t pry, however, mostly because she doesn’t have much concrete reason as to why he felt sketchy to her. Edgar would occasionally tease Angel about her crush, however, much to her annoyance.

Kyle: Angel loves his chill self and admires his dedication as a doctor. They’re friends and sometimes, if she feels like going out, Angel would accompany Kyle to the bar. She never drinks, however, so she’s stuck with bringing Kyle home.

Lancelot: She was intimidated by him, but after learning what Lancelot means to the army through Kyle and Jonah, she realized that the King of Hearts is actually nicer than he lets on. 

Zero: They don’t talk much but Angel thinks he’s great company.

Jonah: Angel has a crush on him. She found him attractive when she first saw him, but after Blanc’s brief descriptions of the Queen of Hearts and seeing him looking happy while eating a strawberry mille-feuille one day, she found herself crushing on him.  

Personality:

Race/Ethnicity: Half Filipino-Cradle blood

Type of clothes/How they wear it: When she first fell into Cradle, Angel wore a long-sleeved dark blue-and-white striped shirt, with dark blue jeans and black sandals. Due to 19th century customs for women, she had to wear a couple of dresses. She has three favorite dresses that she wears nearly every day: the premium dresses from Jonah, Sirius, and Lancelot. 

Mannerisms: She mostly doesn’t care and likes to act as how she wants to act. She can behave and be formal if necessary, but otherwise, she definitely does not have the manners of Lancelot, Jonah, and Edgar. When it comes to taking care of herself, she tries but it’s not enough. She brushes her hair and takes a bath every day, but her hair can still look like it hasn’t been brushed. 

Favorite subject: Math because there is something about the numbers that captivates her and she feels pride over the fact that she can do math while her other classmates struggle.

How do they want to be seen by others: Angel hopes that people see her as a decent human being and not someone who seems to be bad-mannered or mean to others.

How people see them: Angel isn’t really sure on that aspect, but she did get a few comments from people who say that they were initially intimidated by her due to her serious expression. It’s most likely that she’s too serious for people to feel like they can easily approach her.

Introverted or extroverted: Angel is an introvert. She likes to hang around with friends, but that would mean staying in her place or being alone the next day to recharge. She isn’t the type to initiate conversation, but she would gladly engage in one if she feels like it.

What makes them laugh out loud: A lot of things actually. Snarky comments, roast comments, someone’s rather enthusiastic way of telling a story, dissing other friends, and the list goes on.

Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider: Angel doesn’t judge people, especially if they’re strangers because she is aware that they both come from different places. However, she will judge if someone makes a stupid move, including herself.

How do they react to praise: Angel’s reactions can vary. If she is proud of what she did, she’ll say thank you, but if she does not find a reason to deserve the compliment, she gets bashful. Either way, her day will feel better, knowing she did something right.

“” criticism: Angel accepts it with grace. She does not want to make a fuss, nor does she want to reveal any negative feelings towards said criticism. 

How do they treat anyone: If Angel is with a close person, she’s much louder and more carefree. She looks more cheerful. If Angel is with a person who dislikes her or she dislikes, she still acts polite, even if she is tempted to show her irritation.

What is their view on lying: Angel absolutely hates lying. It’s not to say she’s above it, but in the moments she doesn’t say the exact truth, she feels guilty. This extends to her friendships; she strives to not lie to her friends about anything and will always try to keep her word. This honesty, however, can sometimes cause her to say an off-handed comment, which she’ll regret saying later on.

Favorite animal: Her dog from the Land of Reason. When he pops into her head, she hopes that he is still alive.

Music, art, or reading: This is a hard choice for Angel, since she likes all three, but she’ll choose music. All three keep her entertained, especially when she can barely do anything without WiFi for her phone.

Favorite color: Darker hues of blue and gold

Favorite day of the week: Wednesday, because that day tends to be her most relaxing day

Most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen: Angel tends to find so many things beautiful. She can find beauty in even the way the stones on a cobblestone pathway are arranged. Deep down, however, she will say Jonah Clemence (lmao).

Political views: In the context of the conflict within Cradle, Angel is neutral. As someone who lives in the Philippines, she can’t help but note the disadvantages of the dictatorship that the Red Army advocates for. On the other hand, democracy can be somehow difficult to manage. Therefore, she prefers to not think about it.

How do they deal with conflict: She doesn’t. Angel tries to avoid arguments most of the time. However, she will speak up if she feels there is something wrong. When she does argue with someone, she tries to keep her inner peace without blowing up. However, when faced with conflicts regarding personal problems, she can get stressed easily and lose it.

Are they more likely to fight with their fists or their tongue: Angel prefers to speak. She is doubtful that she can fight, even with magic and the resistance to it in her arsenal.

How do they deal with stress: Angel will rant to herself when she’s completely alone. Sometimes, she’ll also rant to Oliver. If what is stressing her is sadness, however, she will keep it in and not tell anyone. 

What is their biggest regret: Angel is the type to regret a lot of things and when she least expects it, the things she regrets will enter her head and she will clench her fist and shut her eyes tight to make it go away. Her biggest regret, however, is when she played Sonata Pathetique mvm. 3 in a restaurant, the day she found out her magical abilities.

What is their greatest fear: Angel is secretly scared of one thing: being unwanted and consequently alone. She’s scared that she won’t get a man who would love her unconditionally because she’s not good enough or she’s scared that her friends gossip behind her back or love each other more than her because she’s not good enough. This fear worsens after she found out about her magic.

When was the last time they cried: Angel hates crying, more so in front of others. She doesn’t know why she even does; it was a thing she knew ever since she was a child. Because of this, she doesn’t normally cry, even if she bottles up depressing thoughts. She does cry, however, when the guilt from the day she found out her magic and the fear of not being loved by anyone ate her up.

What is their philosophy of life: Angel likes to go with the flow but she has to establish a few things she wants in life to make it easier.

What will they stand up for: Angel doesn’t have much she particularly feels passionate about, as she’s the type who would rather chill and not be caught in conflict. But if there’s one thing that would irk her, it’s people being mean. She doesn’t get why people would betray their friends nor would she understand why people are jerks. Therefore, she tries to be nice to everyone she meets.

Is it easy to admit their mistake: Yes. Angel will know if it was her mistake or not. 

Is it easy to forgive others: Definitely. Angel can’t hold a grudge.

Weak traits: Angel can be lazy and won’t complete a project she started on. Angel also has some level of arrogance, born out of the fear that she isn’t good enough and that no one would want her.

Strong traits: Angel will always try to be a trustworthy person and someone who tries her best. 

Family and History:

Angel is actually from the 21st century who recently graduated from college with a degree in music. While walking back to a condo her family owns, Blanc bumps into her and drops his pocket watch, which she picked up. She chased him and called him but he was too fast. Eventually, he disappears, confusing Angel, and standing on the spot where he was, she ended up falling to 19th century Cradle.

Angel’s family is actually a mix of two worlds. Her mother was a Cradle citizen, born into a family of magic users, while her father was from the Land of Reason. Her mother, for some reason, entered the Garden on the full moon and accidentally ended up being transported to 21st century Earth, where she met Angel’s father and fell in love. They hid this from Angel and her other siblings and she only found out during a chance encounter with her mother’s parents. Because of the magic and resistance to it being passed down, she inherited both abilities, which are most powerful in music.

Skills and Special Abilities:

Magic: Angel can cast magic like typical magic users. When she uses magic normally, it’s far from the power of magic users such as Lancelot and Harr. However, when she plays piano or flute, her magic becomes much stronger, possibly stronger than the aforementioned two. Using it, however, can cause fatigue, fever, and even fainting.

Magic Resistance: Due to her roots in the Land of Reason, she also has the ability to nullify magic, making her one of the most powerful people in Cradle– and a target. Strangely, when she makes TwoSetViolin references, her magic nullification ability is more powerful. (It was how she even found out about her magic resistance. She remarked “iNtErEsTiNg” once and the nearby lights went off. The crystals in the light bulbs were newly installed.)

Pianist: She has a decade and a half worth of experience.

Flutist: While not as experienced with the flute (only having played it for around 5 years), she can still play it.

Paired with: Currently no one, but she has a crush on Jonah

Life in Cradle:

Angel just recently graduated from college when she first encountered Blanc, who bumped into her. Blanc seemed very antsy and, after apologizing to her, ran off. He dropped his pocket watch, however. The same thing that happened to Alice the Second occurred, except Blanc actually was nearby when Angel was falling to 19th century Cradle.

The portal closed immediately after Blanc caught Angel, so she was trapped in the unknown world.

On the first days staying in Cradle, Angel was nervous, even with Blanc and Oliver helping her. Often, she was reminded of how tense she was.

During one of the days Blanc showed her around, Angel saw a troop of Red Army soldiers, being led by Jonah. Angel found him attractive and kept glancing at him. 

Eventually, Angel asked Blanc if she can get a job and her own living space, since she didn’t want to burden him. Blanc helped her find a job as a waitress in a cafe and got her an apartment to stay in.

She found out about her magic nullification abilities when she moved in to her apartment.

For two months, she carried a rather mundane life as a worker in a cafe. There was a day when, during break, she ate in another cafe at the same time as Jonah (and found him cute as he ate his mille-fueille).

A few days after the news of the former King of Hearts being assassinated was announced, Angel was eating out with some friends from work. The restaurant had a piano, so she decided to play Sonata Pathetique mvm. 3. Midway through the piece, she heard screams and shouts of pain. That was when she found out that she was unleashing magical attacks through her playing and started to panic when she realized her hands were moving on their own. That was when an explosion occurred.

She was brought to Kyle thanks to Oliver. She was the only one who survived the fiasco, which was dubbed Perish Song Night. She also found out her left eye changed color.

Because of the fiasco, she was fired from her job. 

A week later, Red Army declared war on the Black Army. The next day, they faced off. Angel was nearby when it happened and was praying in her head for nothing bad to happen. That was when she accidentally repelled Lancelot’s magic, confusing everyone. It was enough for Blanc and Oliver to arrive and stop the conflict.

Two days after the face-off, Edgar finds Angel in her apartment, taking her to the Red Army HQ. There, Angel is made to serve the Red Army by using her magical abilities against the Black Army.

[lavrapalmers]

various storms and saints / chapter 3

summary: allie pressman knows it’s a betrayal to have a crush on harry bingham, but she can’t help it

word count: 3.9k

read on ao3 HERE

the chaos came quicker than any of them thought it would, so quick and so sudden and so rough, it was as if the people in the streets weren’t themselves. as if the rain falling had poisoned them, made them creatures of the night, only able to cause trouble.

allie knew this wasn’t the truth, but she wishes it was, wishes there was some excuse for the way they acted. it was better than just accepting that these people she had known her entire life were not what they seemed, that they were darker, more cruel then she could ever have hoped for. it was animalistic, like their innate desire to wreak havoc could no longer be contained and it threatened to topple and take them all done.

it was good of cassandra to call this meeting for the girls, smart of her, yet a selfish part of allie wondered if there was another side to it all. a hidden meaning, directed just for her, a personal warning to stay away from harry. she hadn’t told cassandra anything but she saw them come to the flame together, the way they huddled under the hoodie and stayed close even after. she knew her sister was suspecting, but she knew she wouldn’t ask anything about it either. not until she knew for sure, not until there was something really there to ask about. 

and sometimes allie’s mind still lurks on that night, when there isn’t anything to keep her occupied (though there always is). helping cassandra with the meeting, helping her come up with jobs, get everyone together in the church to announce the new rules and the way things are gonna go. 

she feels a sense of shame at his hesitation in agreeing to it, her eyes planted on him as she waits for his hand to go up, her stomach turning when he’s the last one to do it. she knows she isn’t responsible for his mistakes, she knows what they had was for a night and nothing more, and yet it hurts to see it. it hurts because it makes her question herself, her judgement, and that the image in her head is so different from the way he is in this room that she questions which one is real. the boy from that night or the boy here, the one that contradicted cassandra and was so painfully selfish?

she couldn’t admit to herself that he might be both.

he raises his hand begrudgingly, and only then does she look away from him, and tries to forget it all.

- 

she thought that once she got him out of her system her crush would leave with it, like reality would hit her and say you got your moment, you lived it, time to move on. that’d she’d realize it wasn’t that great, it wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be and she’d move on.

but she can’t move on, as much as she’d like to, the same way she can’t move on from the pain of cassandra not including her on the committee. it bites and hurts in a way she could never imagine, because it feels like where her loyalties lie do not lie back with her, and even her own sister sees her as nothing but her double.

and she’s screaming and crying at her sister and she doesn’t even seem to care, and allie hates this world so much because for as much as it gives it takes away even more because she’s never hated her sister but lately she’s starting to think she might. just a tiny bit, just for this day.

allie wants to run off and find harry, kiss him in the street and let everyone know just for it to go back to her sister, so she can feel that betrayal and find out from someone else like she did. know what it’s like to feel left out, hurt and manipulated, and like you don’t mean as much to the other as they do to you.

she’s smart though, she wouldn’t do that, because she may be mad now and she may be crying and hating cassandra but she knows things will be fixed soon. she can’t ruin their relationship, not here in this twisted place, not now when she needs her most.

and she never thought she’d be more excited to go to work than she is now, because it beats being home while they fight and being left to her own devices. leaving her mind blank and allowed to flow with the worst, because even if she’s in a god awful hairnet and glaring at will’s back for making it on the committee when she doesn’t, she’d rather be counting plates and covering bread in garlic than thinking of all the shit that has managed to happen in such a short amount of time.

she wakes up early for her shift and rushes there before cassandra or any of her friends can stop her, and when she goes home she immediately takes a nap. she wants to avoid the world and the way it hurts, and the fact that the only one who seems to truly see her is herself.

and then there’s him, walking out like a god send to throw off her tireless week that’s starting to feel like groundhog day. he comes like the devil and angel on her shoulder, representing too much for someone who should mean so little. but that night he claimed to see her, to know she isn’t cassandra, and right now she needs someone like that.

“hey.” he calls out to her, greeting her with a smile and a laugh, almost like he’s actually glad to see her. he saunters over to her quickly, and she can’t believe how naturally the smile on her face appears but this time she doesn’t fight it. “looking good.”

“i dressed up just for you.” she exclaims, hand on her chest as a fake testament to her love for him, and he stops close enough to mean something but not close enough for anyone who walks by to notice. it’s all very strategic, very sly. 

“i’ll look like you soon enough.” he pushes her shoulder gently and his eyes are warm and kind, so different from that morning in the church with cassandra, and she doesn’t understand how he can be that way. so cruel to her sister, cold eyes almost dead, and so warm with her, so kind and alive. 

she strips herself of the hairnet, flipping her blonde curls from under it and handing it over to him. they’ve shared a bed, a hair net is nothing in comparison to that. “oh, well, then you should take this.”

he puts it on with a bow, a tuft of those black curls sticking out, and somehow even with that he’s so handsome. harry bingham looks like the type that can do no wrong but also is all wrong, an angel and devil in one, the forbidden fruit she has already taken a bite out of. 

“i’ve never wanted you more.” and while her voice reflects that it’s a joke only she knows it’s not, because more than ever she wants him to take her home and wrap her in his arms, kiss her until she forgets who she is and the troubles she has, make her not regret liking him the way she does. “are you going to prom?”

he shrugs in response, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes but he keeps his smile to her, and she’s glad she’s at least worth pretending. “not sure yet. don’t really have a date anymore.”

“you don’t need a date to go to prom.” she argues, it is the twenty first century after all.

“do you have one?” he asks with the tilt of his head, and she wonders what game he is playing while he flirts with her but still longs for kelly.

she shakes her head and scrunches her nose as she replies, “no, no one i’m really interested. plus this guy i slept with didn’t even think about asking me.”

his smile quirks up more, grows wider, even for a second as he laughs. the way he bounces into the rhythm of her joke so quickly proves her point that she could fall in love with him, the way he just gets her immediately, the way he plays along. “did you want him to?”

it’s her turn to shrug, look around the area as if she’s thinking, and part of her is. she truly is conflicted in her answer, because no matter what she knows the answer she’ll give him won’t be the truth but she doesn’t even know the truth herself. in some ideal world she’d love for him to take her, to slow dance in the middle of the dance floor and kiss at the climax of the song, but in the real world she knows dancing with harry bingham would shift too much in her life. too much has changed all ready, she can’t handle anything more despite how bad she wants it.

“not really.” it comes out in a teasing tone, hinting at him that a part of her wouldn’t be opposed, but it’d be best not to. 

“well maybe he’ll save her a dance.” his hands are in his pockets and he leans forward to almost whisper it to her, and she looks up at him with his hairnet on as he says it and gives him a look that says too much about how she sees it, how she feels.

and she exposes too much unintentionally, three words shifting it all. “i’d like that.” no longer following their joke, their hidden meanings, and the scariest part is that she thinks he’d go running but he doesn’t. his face says something too and it’s like a book she’s too afraid to read.

and for a second she thinks maybe her feelings aren’t one sided, not completely at least, because the way he looks at her runs a chill up her spine and the way he smiles makes her almost choke on her feelings and how strong they are. how badly they overwhelm her, and she sees his lips moving to say something she’s too afraid to hear so she runs. 

“i should go, um...” and she can’t even continue her sentence because she has no real excuse and she wants to take it back the minute she sees his face and the way it falls, the disappointment of her leaving. his begging eyes yearning her to stay, his fiddling hands reflecting that nervous boy she saw when he tried to kiss her, and for a second she worries it might be her who ends up breaking his heart and not the other way around.

she gives him her bullshit excuse of needing a nap and walks away as she says it, not being able to handle it, knowing if she sees him look at her like that she’ll give up and stay there for too long and reveal too much.

and she doesn’t miss the way he huffs away and rips the hairnet off, how his posture tilts into a defeated state as he walks away and she knows something is wrong. this new world is affecting all of them in such different ways, and she doesn’t know what weight is being held on harry’s shoulders but it looks like a heavy one.

but that’s no excuse, there’s a weight on everyone’s back, and they all just have to learn how to live with it now.

-

she really tries to have fun at prom, and she does for awhile, but things just seem to refuse to go her way. her friends trickle out or find dates, and she’s still reeling from her fight with cassandra that has had no resolution in sight, and she hates feeling so alone in a room with almost everyone she knows. 

all she needs is a drink, and she rushes to the table before she even sees who is there, too blinded by her own pain to even see him. but she had seen him all night, the longing look towards kelly as she danced with will, the pained expression and dejected features. that’s the girl he wants, she never expected to erase three years worth of a relationship for him, and yet it still hurts watching him watch her.

“you came.” is all she can say as she pours herself a drink, her mood almost as bitter and harsh as the whiskey sliding down her throat.

“so did you.” he seems to be in the same mood as her, for entirely different reasons, and she has a feeling that is no coincidence. 

harry chuckles as he watches her down her drink with a scrunched expression of disgust, and offers her his own. she takes it and knows she should walk away and leave it as is, but she holds her place next to him because she’d rather wallow with someone else than alone.

“so...” he starts off, bringing her attention back to him and his monotone voice. “wanna dance?”

“it’s probably simpler in the long run if we don’t.” and that might be the best decision she’s made in awhile concerning harry, because he would lead her nothing but trouble. she let herself be his rebound girl for one night but she can’t do that to herself again, not when the pain he feels seems so much more deep, not when her and cassandra are already fighting. “and i’m not really in the mood.”

“yeah. me neither.” everything about him seems so off, his tone of voice and aura, and she’s too busy with her own load to try and carry part of his.

she leaves him in the dust because she doesn’t know what else to do, she’s trying to find an adequate distraction but nothing is working. she drowns herself in her drink and in the crafts, and even dances with will but it doesn’t matter because one dance is done and she’s left alone again watching all the couples kiss.

she doesn’t care about that, she doesn’t want a relationship, not in this chaotic world they now are being forced to call home. she just hates feeling so alone, feeling so unseen and invisible. she’s gotten too good at that, and she isn’t sure what she wants because she wants to be seen but she doesn’t want the limelight. she wants to keep her place but she also wants more, and she doesn’t want to be here a second longer. 

allie knows she has to let things go, forgive cassandra and move on with her life. it’ll be easier then without all that rage, because she knows her sister is good to her and she knows she means no harm, and she swears that tomorrow morning they’ll talk and work it all out. allie will tell her she wants to be seen and cassandra will listen and maybe something will change but even if they don’t she really won’t mind, because she’s lived seventeen years like this and she can live some more, because right now isn’t a time to be selfish and she needs her sister now more than ever.

but she’s going to be selfish for one last night, she’s going to be mad and she’s going to make bad decisions because she deserves at least that, the freedom to do so. tomorrow is a new day but tonight is still today, and today she can be as mad as she wants and she plans to be until it burns out.

harry is sitting alone at his table with that solemn look on his face that she’s so tired of seeing and she doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to him as fast as she can. “get up, we’re going.”

he looks up at her, eyes distant and look so confused, something she can’t really blame him for. he has no idea what is going on in her head the same way she has no idea what’s going on in his, but she has an idea. she doesn’t care though because tonight she’s thinking of herself, and she knows he wouldn’t mind some company much either. 

“what are you talking about?”

her face doesn’t change, doesn’t shift with a smile or a smirk as she responds. “i want you to take me back to your place before any of your new roommates get back to see you take me there.”

he knows what that means and she sees him think it over in his mind, but it doesn’t take long for him to get up and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her out the doors into the darkness where the two reside in the hollow of their mind, but at least tonight they will reside there together.

“we never had our dance.” he whispers in her ear as they walk out.

“we can have this instead.” she turns her head and whispers back, getting in his car as he speeds back home, and for once she doesn’t mind how reckless it all is. she finally takes a good look at him as he drives, his hair slicked back all the way, trying to tame his loose curls to fit in one place the same way cassandra is trying to change him to fit in with their rules. a part of her feels bad for him, that he has to shift everything he’s ever known, but a bigger part of her knows he has to get over it because it’s what’s right.

an even bigger part of thinks more of how she wants to make a mess of his hair with her hands carded through it while he has his way with her.

when they get inside neither of them turns on a light, and the house is empty and quiet and all theirs, and it’s nothing like their first time together. their kisses are frantic and sloppy as they walk up the stairs, bumping into the wall as they try to strip him of his jacket and unzip her dress. this time both are using each other in a more desperate way, hoping the others kiss will erase all their problems and pain but with the knowledge that it won’t.

they’re holding each other in a tight embrace as they fall on his bed together, fighting to fully crawl on while still pressing breathy kisses to any part of the others skin. she can’t believe she’s doing this again, and even with her clothes stripped and his lips pressing kisses against her chest her mind is racing wondering if he thinks it’s kelly, wishes it’s kelly, and she pulls him up to kiss her on the lips before her mind can continue its brutal attack and make her cry.

and it’s different than their first time again for a reason she can’t understand, because he’s on top and inside of her and caressing her face and looking at her with a stare she can’t read and her mouth is agape with muffled gasps because this is the one thing she didn’t expect. she doesn’t expect him to hold her so close and to press gentle kisses against her skin and look her right in the eye and take care of her properly. it’s like something has changed in these few days and she doesn’t know what, but she puts her hand on his face and holds him close too because she wants to treat him as good as he’s treating her.

when they’re done she gets up and slips into her dress, but he slips his hand into hers and gives it a gentle pull. “stay.”

she doesn’t expect that either, and she turns around to see him looking like a god with his hair back to it’s natural curls and his body calling her to cradle in his warmth. and his eyes seem so young, younger than she’s ever seen before, and she wonders if she’s ever seen him so vulnerable before.

she’s no idiot though, and she won’t let things get too far. “you don’t have to pretend, harry.”

his thumb is rubbing the inside of her palm and he’s laying his head on his pillow, looking up at her with the eyes of a confused babe. “what do you mean?”

“that this is something more than it is. that we are. that you aren’t wishing kelly had been with you tonight.” it’s too late to play games, and they’re too old for it now. 

his hand in hers goes limp, and she can’t look to see his reaction because she knows a part of her hurt him, and she doesn’t want to feel that guilt.

she looks forward at the blank wall, their hands limp but still together, barely touching but still searching for each others warmth. “it’s more complicated than that...you don’t get it. i like your company.”

it’s like he twisted the knife in her heart and pushed it forward, and she doesn’t know why but she starts to tear up. he doesn’t mean to hurt her, and she doesn’t know what she should expect, and she hates not being able to understand her own feelings. “i’ve got to go.” she chokes out, trying to keep her voice steady, trying not to let him hear it crack.

“stay...please.” his voice is a silent beg, but all she can do is grasp his hand and give it one last squeeze before sitting up and letting it go again.

“i’ll see you around.” she wants to say they can talk then, but what is there to talk about? she’s overthinking it, looking too far into something that isn’t there. two nights mean nothing, not to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. she doesn’t know what he’s saying, and that’s the scariest part.

she grabs her shoes and leaves before he can say anything else, trying to sneak out of the full house undetected and into the dark street where she can not be seen. and she’s scared because she’s had a realization about herself, and she thinks it ruins everything she once thought.

because she’s tried so hard to get into his head, rationalize him, see and feel what he’s thinking to the point where she knew what he was thinking. or at least she thought she did, but she was so wrong, and she doesn’t mind being wrong but she hates the not knowing. she hates not knowing what is in his head and what he’s thinking when he holds her in his arms and she hates that everything she once thought might be wrong because it means she has to continue on blind and she doesn’t know how to do that.

stray tears drop down her face and her body shakes in the cold of the night when she reaches her house, not a light left on, and she tip toes to her room so as not to wake anyone and worry them with the red on her eyes and the blush on her cheeks.

she changes into her pajamas and curls in an almost fetal position on her bed, wanting to go back to simpler times and sleep everything up, wake up and these past few weeks were nothing but a dream. 

she pulls the blanket up and wipes her tears away, and thinks she’ll tell cassandra about harry tomorrow. she can’t continue on with secrets, and she can’t continue on with the not knowing.

and most of all, she can’t continue on without her sister, but she might have to learn how to.