#i'm trying to psych myself up to write by drawing these two

[trashyreptilian]

I rise from the shadows and arrive with art once again-

More interactions between Mark and Him, cuz' content of them on my blog is severely lacking believe it or not lmao,, So please, have a mini collage and 3 little random drawn out scenarios. :>

[azen13]

Since somebody sent in an ask about favorite yandere males in genshin, who are your favorite yandere hsr males?

CW: Yandere Themes

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Azen posting 2 actual writing-ish posts in one day? Extremely unlikely, but now that I'm on break and finished writing about mermen, possible! All things aside, thank you so much for this ask!

I'd say absolute favorites are Argenti and Jing Yuan, but before I talk about them in-depth, I wanted to do some honorable mentions. Aventurine has a lot of potential as a yandere in my opinion, considering his backstory and how that might have affected his psyche, but I just find myself struggling to tap into his character. I love Boothill, but find it hard to envision him as a yandere considering the fact that he's a Galaxy Ranger. Still, like Aventurine, I definitely can see a motive for why he would be a yandere. In my favorite Genshin yanderes post, I mentioned how Neuvillette and Zhongli are two of my favorites from that game, and I also really like Dan Heng/Dan Feng! Draconic characters are really fun to write for, but I'm not very good at keeping up with HSR lore, so I try to shy away from writing Dan Feng because of how entrenched his character is in a lot of the lore. Dan Heng is a little hard for me to write because I struggle to see how he could act on his possessive tendencies with the Astral Express crew being in such close proximity. Dr. Ratio is a super interesting character, but I really struggle with his characterization and while I have a few drabbles written about him, they will not be posted because I don't like how they turned out. Gallagher is another character I've loved since his release, but like Dan Feng, I'm both confused about his lore, and I'm unsure on how to write for him in general when in-game he...doesn't exist? Still not exactly sure what happened to him haha. I recently posted a Moze drabble and depending on what happens in the future, he may move up to be one of my favorites, because I think he has a lot of potential and I'd love to write a oneshot from his perspective about realizing his feelings, but I just need more time working on getting used to his character before I can definitively decide how I feel on him. And finally, I love Sampo, and I actually have an idea of a fic I want to write in regards to a MSND!AU where Sampo is Puck, but he's another character where I really struggle with his characterization.

Ok, now it's time to talk about Argenti and Jing Yuan.

When I say Argenti is my favorite yandere from this game, I mean it. I think he has so much potential as a yandere, and I have this very specific vision of a reader who is an Emanator of Beauty that he finds one day and kidnaps and brings back to his ship. He's such a gentleman to them, but he refuses to let them leave. You can see stars shooting by the windows of his spaceship, see your home planet slowly shrinking into a tiny pinprick on the horizon, until it just pops out of existence. Your new home is with him, he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss against your wrist. He pampers and dotes on you every chance he gets. He can't let you leave his ship, so he brings back souvenirs and memorabilia from every planet he visits. Sometimes he takes photos if he can figure out how to work his phone's camera. Every hour or so when he's off espousing Idrila's prowess to some planet, you'll get a text or call from him making sure you're safe. He cares so much. He cares too much. He cares too much, but he means so well. He sees something of such supreme beauty, and he can't help but want to shelter it.

It's how sweet yet cruel he would be that gets me. The thing that draws me to write yandere content is the fact that these feelings are born from a distorted sense of love. What they are distorted by changes depending on the character, and in Argenti's case, I think it's due to an extreme sense of devotion to his beloved. That method of distortion is probably one of the most fascinating for me to explore. Beyond that, I also think he'd be a good yandere logistically. I could easily see him having a method of controlling the entrance to his spaceship to prevent his beloved from being able to leave while he's out. All in all, I just really, really love Yandere!Argenti, and I hope that me talking about him might have convinced some people to start looking into him more, because he's such a fun character to write for!

Onto Jing Yuan, I have less to talk about, but I still feel really strongly about him! I'm pretty sure most of the writing that I've posted on my blog has been about Jing Yuan, and that's because I feel like I have a good handle on his character. Jing Yuan strikes me less as someone affected by obsessive love, and more as someone affected by overprotective desires. He's lived centuries and seen countless close friends die, and because of that, I think when he's in love, he'd be extremely anxious about losing his beloved. I'm not sure if I talked about this when I talked about my favorite Genshin yanderes, but something that I also find helpful in terms of writing is the level of power the yandere has. This could range from something like pure strength to how much social capital the yandere has. Jing Yuan, in my opinion, is incredibly powerful in a multitude of ways. Canonically, he's an Emanator of The Hunt, he's General of the Luofu, and he's hundreds of years old. Strength, social capital, wisdom, and more. All this power makes for a really fantastic dynamic in my opinion, and it's really fun to write for.

[meanbossart]

Hello hello!

I have to say that ever since I discovered you here, I can't get away from your art! I just adore uncanny things of all kinds…. AND as a social worker I just love it when people put so much thought into the psychology of their OCs. It makes me feel less weird when I write little psychology papers about my own characters.

Anyways! I had this super stupid idea for a picture~ So-. Here we are! After some Tavs made fun of his scars-… from one Drow Durge Creep to another.

Provided, of course, that DU Drow and Lux don't immediately try to kill each other. x)

Although Lux's not a normal Drow either - I like to play with clichés -. So, as a Drow woman, she is much smaller than most men (146 cm [4'7]) and rather reserved when dealing with others. If I could have put her strength stat below 8, I would have ò_ó She's just a skinny ass necromancer.

Besides, she never really met other Drow before she goes into the Underdark with Astarion in the post-game. Because she was raised in Candlekeep after Bhaal threw her somewhere and before she caused the first bloodbath.

So-… she'd probably rather stand behind someone and stare until she's approached-… than actually ask him out for a drink. lol.

Otherwise… Happy Easter to you!

AAAAAAAAAA LOOK AT THESE TWO MESSED UP FUCKERS!!!! They look adorable together, and Lux seems like a real... Uh... A real charmer. I'm sure an encounter between them would be the most harmonious wall of silence and awkward staring the world's ever seen. She's so short too that this behemoth of a man might confuse her for a deep gnome or something, so perhaps they could have an amicable start pfft.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS, AND FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW MY IDIOT WITH YOURS!!! I guess I could mention here that I'm a psych school dropout to try and explain away all the psycho-analysis that goes on in this blog, but honestly I would probably be doing this regardless, it just turns out I prefer to pick brains that I made myself (and it's free too, unlike college).

Happy Easter to you too, and thank you for the important work you do!

[captain-grammar]

Tagged by the AMAZING and double-y talented @goldheartedsky to participate in this writer's ask:

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 22. Because I'm excellent at thinking up ideas and then scaring myself out of writing them. 2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 89,347. Again, I'm AMAZING at psyching myself out of projects.

3) What fandoms do you write for? The bulk of my paltry number of fics are The Old Guard focussed, but I have an ANCIENT, unfinished Stargate: Atlantis fic on there and a snippet of a LOTR/LOTRO piece that will never be completed.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Codeword Blue, For The First Time, The Slowest Burn, Lost in Translation and Close. Which is kind of amazing because the ship-focus for these is, arguably, not necessarily 'mainstream' in the TOG fan space so I massively appreciate that people rate them!

5) Do you respond to comments? I do! Or I used to, back when I posted something new/regularly. I haven't posted anything for a VERY long time now, and so actively avoid reading any new comments because then I'll feel guilty for not writing, or feel like a fraud.

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't really go for angsty, because I tend to just want happy endings for all. I have an unsatisfying cliff-hanger ending to what was supposed to be a two-parter fic (Homewrecker) so I supposed in a parallel universe where people are dying for me to finish it, the fact that it's resolutely NOT complete might be causing some angst?

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? They all have happy endings in one form or another but I think the one that might have the most "aaawwh" factor is maybe I Won't Let You Sink. Any excuse for my boy Booker to get a hug, really.

8) Do you get hate on fics? I don't think so? At least none that I'm aware of! Nobody's leaving me comments or hitting up my DMs, put it that way.

9) Do you write smut? I do. With varying degrees of success, admittedly, but still...

10) Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written? Many moons ago, perhaps, on a long-forgotten fanfiction.net account but nothing I can remember!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Darling, I don't want my fics half the time. Why the hell would anyone else?!

12) have you ever had a fic translated? I have not!

13) have you ever cowritten a fic before? I think I've made plans to with a few people but not followed through. I'm scared of not living up to the hype and letting them down!

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? Honestly? The Ongoing LOTRO Fic I'll Never Finish, featuring my OC and Lothrandir. That Ranger needs a hug, a break and therapy in that order and my elf will give him that.

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? BITCH, THROW A DART AT ANY OF THE 40-ODD DRAFTS IN MY FOLDER AND YOU'RE A WINNER.

16) What are your writing strengths? I'm almost annoyingly descriptive. I can't draw for shit so I'll use words to try and conjure up an image that I could never in a million years manage with a paintbrush.

17) what are your writing weaknesses? My lack of self-belief...

18) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'm for it! As I'm not fluent in any other language, I'll keep it to short little snippets, italicised, that I'm confident aren't terrible and won't cause an international incident! I think it can be a nice nod to a character's past, who they are and their heritage.

19) First fandom you wrote for? Again, MANY moons ago and long-forgotten, but Stargate: SG-1 when I was maybe 13?

20) Favorite fic you’ve written? Probably Bloom. I just really like the idea that Booker and Joe's relationship is deep and probably has evolved and developed and fluctuated a LOT over the years and had fun exploring that! (And Goldie's art for it was just phenomenal!)

TAGGING: I honestly don't know who else may have been tagged in something like this already so hey, if you write fic and want to participate, by all means fill your boots!

[littlehoovesden]

I feel I am becoming increasingly frustrated with my lack of artistic motivation and productivity. No amount of advice or psyching myself up has helped me push past the barrier that seems to be there 9/10 times that I want to work on something creative.

I want to draw, I feel inspired, I open my art software, I feel tired. I can't. I try to draw. It's not right. It feels like I'm not meant to be doing this now. Later perhaps, not now. (There is never a later that isn't now)

I want to make music, I play with some basic sounds. Okay, it sounds pretty cool! I like this! I want to do more with it.. I feel overwhelmed.. idk what to do with it.. it will probably never see the light of day

I want to write, I have an idea and it's exciting! I try to write. I write a few paragraphs because I am feeling a fleeting passion for this idea! The passion fades, now, every two sentences I feel like I have to stop and do something else. I can't work on it anymore. It will sit unedited for the next two years.

I hear my friends talk about how now that they're on medication they can draw all day and it's so great!

I wonder if I would be the same.. but I feel like I'm just not pushing myself hard enough. What would that even look like? I feel like I'm just lazy and not disciplined enough.

I see artists who draw and write every day. I feel jealous. I want to do that but I don't know how.

I feel like I will never create anything that is really complete. Aside from small, occassional drawings and one-shot fanfics every few years. I feel like I'm in an eternal state of aspiring to the creative things I want to make and never in a true state of creating them.

[anvoo]

21.06.2023 - milestone

First night in a long time that I've been able to sit with myself and write. It's, calming. I feel like it's "me", you know? It's like, I could see myself months and years from now, still sitting down at the end of the day, writing.

I have a not-great habit of shaking my legs whenever I feel anxious or upset, so on the days when I'm not feeling my greatest, I would feel muscle pain in the evening or night from all the leg shaking. I'm trying to keep both my feet on the ground and still as I'm writing :p

I remember somebody saying: "A lot of people who are suicidal don't actually want to die, they just want their current situation to end or change." That seems to be true in my case. To reassure everyone, I don't intend or want to kill myself. It's just the thought of "I want my current situation to change", followed by the idea of suicide as one of the options/solutions. It seems like the easiest solution for me to connect my current actions and decisions with the end goal of "current situation changing".

I really don't want to die right now. Who knows if there's reincarnation or the afterlife, so I want to fully cherish and make the best out of my current life. I want to draw more; to write more; to meet people; to treat them nicely and be treated nicely back; to see more art; to listen to good music; to have experiences; to enjoy things; to have freedom and choose; to live for and by myself...

My future, my path forward right now is concrete and clear to me. No matter what happens, no matter what I want to achieve or do, the path forward is the same. The story of my life is written mainly through decisions and actions, not thoughts, ink, or typing. It's the "doing" part that determines.

To "do" requires energy, willpower, and motivation. One that is hindering me, is my tendency to divert my energy, willpower, and motivation, to "think". To come up with the perfect motivation, to have the answer to all my doubts and questions, to come to a revelation! Once I have done that everything will be easy, but it won't be. Knowing exactly what you want and need to do won't make you suddenly be able to put in 16 hours a day of work, study, or self-care. Coming to a revelation won't change the procrastination and validation-seeking habits that are embedded so deeply in your psyche and behaviors. It helps, of course, but it can't be the only thing. I need to "do". I have done enough "think". I'll continue to, of course, but now I need to strike a better balance between the two in order to achieve my goals.

I'm grateful that I have people who care about me. Their support really means a lot to me and it helps me to get through tough times. I'll take it in and continue to try my best and move forward.

Balance in my life is still something that I'm trying to achieve. Having just video games or a romantic relationship be the only pillar that holds me up isn't great, and it makes me unhappy :C Not having my romantic relationship be the core or the center of my existence doesn't mean that it's suddenly meaningless now. It's me enriching my life and being kinder to myself. It even helps to bring more value and meaning to the relationship itself. I'm more interesting, more stable, happier, and wiser,...; it's also the fact that placing the stake of your entire emotional and mental well-being on your romantic relationship going well is just damaging to it and your well-being xD This reminds me a bit of a line from Samantha in Her(2013):

"The heart is not like a box that gets filled up; it expands in size the more you love. I'm different from you. This doesn't make me love you any less. It actually makes me love even more."

In the context of the film, the quote probably has a slightly different meaning (Samantha loving 641 other people), but in this moment for me, it's about all the things that I said above.

So, what now?

Well, For my academic and career goals, do well with my studies. For my fitness and physical health goals, gym and healthy diet. For my mental health goals, being kind to myself, keep doing my best, and continue to write. For my hobbies and interests, draw more, and engage more in activities. For my socializing, practice more spoken German, and go out more (it's fun, as all the previous times you've gone:>). For me and Cat, just keep doing my best for myself. I know I'll know when I'm ready to reconnect and give us another shot, and I'll talk to her then. We talked and discussed a lot about us, our promise and break, and our future together, so I know it's a decision that wasn't made lightly. I believe in us, in our feelings together, and that we can do it!

Sounds nice. Goodnight!

Goodnight!

[juvederm]

this story been a wip since like 2019 maybe even 2018 and i have one version of it completed that i now just call a draft bc it's so incomplete to me even though it's posted on ao3

let me ramble

like if anyone's wondering why josh is such a focal point in my art it's literally bc of this damn story like 😭 i try to draw things that could potentially be a visual or something to be added in the story (ie drawing scenes that may happen or outfits he might wear) in order to keep myself motivated

since he's like the main character of the story, he's all i draw and talk about for the reason i just stated, like i can't allow myself to get unmotivated about this story bc it's been up my ass forever and has about 8 drafts at this point

it's such a hassle mainly bc of the complexities of how josh got the prank to work, the money spent, the routes he took, etc. i'm trying to find all of it to make the story as accurate as possible bc i can't have it not aligned with canon, while also having showing a diff angle of josh that i feel isn't in most ? fics about him ? and if it is, the fic is usually unfinished and untouched or a standalone

i stray away from that common way people used to write josh (or characterize him) as some suave, inappropriate and sometimes flirty dude (which is sooo inaccurate to his character i can't even emphasize that enough). i think he did make sexual jokes simply for the laughs or shock value. i think he does have charisma but not in the Womanizer kind of way that mike has. like josh has charm, but it's not because he's flirty. it's because he has this weird aura to him that makes him interesting, and makes him charming because of how he handles it

and i've said it before, i think it's all a front for him. he's not really like that. he probably dislikes being so fake, but is afraid of judgment and being isolated from others. so he tries to fit in as much as possible. even if it means drinking and partying enough to be called a "party animal" and being described as someone who "outdoes" everyone during drinking contests

i tried painting it as a slow descent for him in the story i'm writing. after he loses his sisters, everything's starting to fall.

best way i can describe josh: a steel tank rolling down a muddy hill that can be derailed by a twig.

i also tried showing his psyche through the clothes he wears. and his two different rooms (his room at his mom's, and his room at his dad's; i think they're divorced so).

his room at his mom's house has a lot more of his interests everywhere. you can definitely tell he's an art kid, movie obsessed introvert if you would walk into his room. he's eccentric when by himself to a degree where it's genuine and not a front. he kinda has an eccentric style as well, but after losing the twins, he loses that spark

when he moves in with his dad however, his room there is incredibly bleak. there's no posters, the spaces are wide, and there's no range in colors. just black, white and sometimes grey, maybe silver. and his clothes devolve to bland white shirts, black pants, black coats, etc. no poppy colors whatsoever. this kinda goes more into the head canon i have about his step mom, who is kind of on the traditional side.

and also when josh moves in with dad, he becomes invested in solitary activities such as painting, gardening or piano. all of which he does when he's completely alone. and painting and piano playing could be a way to vent out his emotions, even then josh tries to suppress it. he's way too used to doing that. but sometimes his artworks show that.

that's another thing. he's always been artistic and obsessed with painting. he had a lot more abstract pieces but as his mental health declined, the paintings became colorless and desaturated, depressing and claustrophobic (and also involved more of his fears like spiders and isolation)

anyways. maybe i should actually write for the story instead of talking about it

[owo-shenanigans]

So I'd like to make a request if you okay about it. Can i request something like a headcanons with yours fav male characters, from any Danganronpa game you want, and how they Will react to their s/o being a mastermind(or blackened)?

Of course! This was an absolute BLAST to write, though I teared up a few times :’‘) requests are OPEN!

KAZUICHI, GUNDHAM, AND KIIBO WITH A BLACKENED S/O

Word Count: 1.8k

KAZUICHI SOUDA

"No, I have an alibi- I was with Kazuichi!" Your words silenced the others who had begun to gang up on you. The trial was for Sonia's murder. With an unidentified fatal wound on the back of her head, she had been discovered at 7am in the restaurant.

He smiled and nodded, hand in a thumbs up. "Yeah! We were together all night - no way they could have done it!"

At the raised eyebrows from the others, he flushed. "I-I didn't mean-"

At your laugh, he just kept his mouth shut. But your alibi was set in stone.

Half an hour later, you wished you had kept your own mouth shut. Hajime had ripped your alibi to shreds, stating that Kazuichi was a known heavy sleeper- you could have snuck out and back in with him none the wiser.

"But- no, I couldn't have done it-!" You stated desperately, fists clenched. "Where on Earth would I have gotten a baseball bat!? Where could I have-"

Hajime's face at that made you fall silent, a terrible chill falling down your back.

"We never figured out what the murder weapon was, (Y/N)."

You glanced around wildly, but you could see your fate was sealed. Kazuichi's face was the worst one. His eyes were filled with tears, and as he looked at you, you found that you couldn't go on anymore.

"You're right, Hajime. I… I killed Sonia. I sent her a letter asking her to come to the restaurant at 3 in the morning, posing as you. I told her… I told her that I'd found a newspaper article about her country, and that I thought she should read it. When she arrived… She never saw my face. I snuck up behind her and… That's it."

You gripped your podium, hands shaking at the sounds of Gundham’s hamsters squeaking- almost overshadowing the faint cries from their master.

The votes came in- all but one for you.

The moment you were released from your podiums, Kazuichi dashed over to you, hands gripping yours.

"(Y/N), you- you- why? How could you do this to me? To all of us?"

He was choking back sobs, pink hair stuck in the tear tracks down his face. You gently reached out and touched them, and he leaned in to your touch.

"I'm so sorry Kazuichi. But they… What I saw… I knew I had to get off the island. I couldn't live without knowing the motive was fake."

Monokuma giggled in his obnoxiously high pitched voice.

"But now you'll never know, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

Choking back your own sobs, you gave Kazuichi one last hug, one last desperate kiss.

"Get off this island. Get off this island for me."

The collar came and snapped around your neck, tearing you apart from him forever.

GUNDHAM TANAKA

"Mahiru was always hanging around you, Beta Bitch! I bet you killed her because you knew you would never be as kind as her, or as sweet as her, or as… as… WAAAAAAAAH!"

Hiyoko let out an ear splitting wail, as you started to try and defend yourself. But before you let out a word, the man across from you spoke up.

"Silence, Sea Urchin! For I was with thy darkness at the time of the crime. We were supplying sustenance to the caged creatures. They could not have hurt the now deceased."

You couldn't help smiling at his wordy, yet correct response. "We were feeding the animals at the farm," you translated. "And he would have seen me leaving, as there's only one exit. The whole place is surrounded by a fence, after all."

Hajime, who seemed to be leading the trial, nodded at that, and the discussion moved on. Once everyone's eyes were off you, you let out a sigh of relief.

There. Your alibi was safe. You were safe. You could- you could go home, and make sure that the video was lying.

Unnoticed by you, a little girl in blonde pigtails was staring at you. And she had a scowl on her face.

Half an hour later, everyone had gone around in circles three times. Nagito was doing his usual obscuration of the investigation. Not that you were complaining.

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you didn't hear what Hiyoko said through your rushing blood.

"So, I know you idiots let Beta Bitch off the hook because she couldn't have left the farm, but are you all ignoring the giant hole in their stupid argument?"

Everyone zeroed in on Hiyoko, who paled a moment before tossing her head.

"There's a literal hole in their argument."

"I agree with that!" Hajime shouted. "There's a little hole in the fence, right next to the hotel."

You had snapped back in at this point, hands shaking.

"But- there's also a- a fence around the hotel! I couldn't get thro-"

"That's wrong!" He shouted again, and you've never hated him more than in this moment. "Yes, there is a fence, but you didn't have to go through- not with the murder weapon you chose. With a relic sword from the library, all you had to do was stab through the fence."

"I found hay on the sword…. I think." Chiaki interjected. "I guess you hid the sword in the animal food until Gundham wasn't looking…. And then you left through the hole in the fence…."

From there, they tore apart your alibi, destroyed any chance you had of leaving the island.

But the look on Gundham’s face dried up any arguments you had. Every time you opened your mouth, his Deva's chitted at you, quiet and yet louder than Hajime's closing argument.

The votes came in- every single person had voted for you, except a lone two against Hajime. Hajime didn't even have the decency to appear offended by the votes, his expression pained as he stared at you.

"It was the motive video." You confessed, and you shut your eyes to keep out the sight of them all staring. "I had- I had to go home. I had to make sure it was fake. I knew it couldn't be real, because- because-"

Gundham took your hand gently and you broke down into his arms. Clutching at him like a lifeline, you sobbed out the rest of your story.

"I'm so, so sorry, Gundham. I never should have used you. The video isn't an excuse." You let out a watery chuckle. "None of you fell for it, did you?"

Pulling your motive video out, you tucked it into Gundham's jacket. "Check for me, will you? Make sure… make sure it's not true."

"Sweetne-" he started, but Monokuma interrupted with a feral grin.

"Real or fake, now you'll never know, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

Monokuma tore you from Gundham, your watery smile the last he ever saw of you.

KIIBO

"Sorry, Shuichi, but I couldn't have done it." You shrugged at his accusation, internally sweating enough to fill a pool.

"I was with Kiibo at the time; I couldn't have left the kitchen without him seeing me."

"And I didn't see them leave the kitchen, let alone the dining room." Kiibo stated this almost proudly, and you had to fight off a wave of affection for the man. You couldn't doubt yourself- not now. Not when you had already done what you did. There was no going back.

"I couldn't have killed Kokichi."

At your words, everyone glanced at the portrait of the boy. None of them had liked him, sure, and he had screwed with them through the trials… but some of the things he said held the hidden piece necessary to understand the plot.

You shifted in your podium- his photographed eyes almost seemed to be following you. Kiibo caught your hand and squeezed it, offering a smile to you. Giving a tremulous smile in turn, you tried to calm your heart rate.

An hour later, you were shaking all over.

"You said your alibi was Kiibo, but Miu said THIS-" and he held up an electronic device- "was missing from her lab. It went missing this morning, and was found in the back of the kitchen cupboard. And the kitchen clock was a few minutes off. My theory? You set off a pulse to turn Kiibo off, which accidentally turned off the clock as well. You left the dining room, entered the warehouse, and strangled Kokichi."

You gulped loudly, the sound echoing in your head. Glancing around wildly, you were met with people convinced of your guilt. Turning to your right, you saw Kiibo- and you knew in that moment that if he were able to cry, he would be sobbing.

The look on his face made you give up.

"(Y/N).... It's not…. It's not true, is it?"

You looked down at your podium, your lack of an answer an answer nonetheless.

The votes came in, every single vote going your way. Even Kiibo, huh? Not like you didn't deserve it.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you spoke.

"I…. I just had to get out of here. I was going crazy. All the- all the death, the executions- I knew I was going to be next! So I…. I went to the warehouse. I was psyching myself out, by that point. But then…. Then Kokichi-

"He kept taunting me. Saying that- that he knew someone was planning to kill me, and that I was so weak and pathetic that they'd succeed and I-!

"I strangled him. I came back to myself with the rope wrapped around his neck, and he wasn't responding! I came back to the kitchen and…. And I hid the electronic in the back of the drawer. And that's it. That's how I killed Kokichi Oma."

You risked a glance over at Kiibo, and your heart sank. He was merely staring at you, no emotion on his face.

"For what it's worth… I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kiibo. I shouldn't have used you for my alibi."

Drawing in a breath, you choked on it when he pulled you into a hug. Pulling back, he touched his forehead to yours, your hands clutched in his.

"My inner voice is wrong. I…. I'll escape. I'll escape for you, (Y/N). I promise. I swear to you."

You let out a half sob, but you couldn't stop a final smile at how pure hearted he was.

"Don't… don't make the same mistake I did. Defeat whoever trapped us in here. Escape… escape without destroying yourself in the process, my dearest Kiibo."

"Oh, how heartwarming." Monokuma crooned in his high pitched voice. "You'll be warm enough in a whole lot of other places soon, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

The collar snapped around your neck and tore you from his hands. He reached out to you desperately, but it was too late.

[delvalentine]

Hello! Can I have a romantic matchup for tears of themis please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child.

Thank you!

vyn richter

vyn has an ambiguous moral compass that would allow the two of you to be more compatible than with the others who are more goody two-shoes type. he has an extensive understanding of the human psyche and doesn't need you to explain yourself; he just gets you.

he finds your dream log fascinating, and also respects that you don't fear nightmares. often times the two of you might get together for tea and discuss the meanings, having actual conversations instead of just "how are you" "good" and letting it die there.

vyn is an academic and would welcome debate with you. instead of getting hostile or making it seem like fighting, the debates would be properly intellectual. he would quietly try to motivate you as well, perhaps baking your favourite treat, and being cruel enough to withhold them until you get something done. in turn, he needs to you balance out his seriousness, introducing him to new standards of life he dismissed earlier.

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 16

Billy x Katrina

A/N: this is a multi chapter series that will contain smut, angst, fluff, substance abuse BLOOD, BODY HARM, ABUSE

Billy's POV

"Neil?"

Her mouth twitched into a smirk, "very good."

"I swear, if you hurt her," I growled.

Neil tsked at me, "relax. It's corn syrup, like in the movies...well, most of it."

One of her arms lifted, just enough to show a shallow cut on the inside of her bicep that had already scabbed over.

"Had to check my control."

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why her?"

"I could have picked anyone really, she wasn't the only one I followed...but, you really want to know why I picked her?"

My jaw worked but no sound came out, I was frozen.

She spun the knife in her hand, stopping to point it at me, "because of you and your mother. She was fascinated with this girl, loved her like her own, that's why I started following her. And then she found you and you made it too easy. You're both so weak, it's pathetic really."

"Neil," I ground out, "why?" I could feel my eyes stinging with tears and clenched my jaw to stop it from wavering.

"You always were a weak bastard," Neil sneered, "never stopped fucking crying. Blubbering about like a baby. I tried to make you strong and I see I've failed. You're my biggest mistake."

"I was a child!" I yelled, "I didn't need to be strong!"

"You were weak!" She screamed back, stepping up to get in my face.

She followed me as I backed up, pinning me against the wall to grab my chin and hissed, "you are weak! You're too much like your mother."

"Katrina," I pleaded, "please, you're stronger than this, stronger than him. Come back...please."

Neil let out a cruel laugh, fingers tightening to bruise skin, "you really think that'll work? She can't hear you, she's gone," her hand came up to her chest, groping at her breast, "this body does have perks though. I quite like it."

I looked away, clenching my jaw, "don't."

She smirked and stepped back, "calm down. Your precious Katrina has no idea, can't feel a thing," the knife spun to point at herself, the tip pressing against the side of her stomach, "shall I test her? See how much I can do before she notices?"

"No!" I shouted, lurching forward.

But it was too late. The blade had sunk into her skin. She didn't flinch, even when slowly pulling the knife out, releasing a stream of blood.

"See? We feel nothing."

--

Katrina's POV

A handful of golden blonde hair, holding her close as she rocked against me. A hushed whine, muffled by her mouth against my neck. It sent shivers down my spine. Sent my hips stuttering up as I released inside her. We relaxed into each other, leaning back against the seat of my car. Shared lazy kisses as we caught our breath and sweat cooled on our skin.

"I love you," she whispered against my lips, "don't go."

"I'll be back. Before you even realize I'm gone," I caressed her face gently in my hands, "and when I get back, we'll get married and have lots of babies."

She giggled, "lots?"

"Don't you want lots of children?"

She shook her head, "just two, a boy and a girl."

I kissed her, softly murmuring, "anything for you, my love."

--

"Marry me, Olivia."

She smirked, "what? You mean when you get back?"

I shook my head, "no. I want you as my wife before I leave."

"Neil, you leave tomorrow."

"So we go down to city hall and get married today. We can have the party when I get back, what do you say?"

--

I cradled Olivia's cheek in my hand, using my thumb to gently pull her lip from between her teeth. She looked up at me with those ocean eyes, shimmering with salt water.

"Don't cry," I murmured.

"Will you write me?"

I smiled, "as much as I can."

I pulled her into my chest and pressed my lips to the top of her head. Her hands wrapped around my back, twisting in my shirt to keep me close. I could feel her back shake under my hands when she let out a shuddering breath and sighed, holding her tighter.

"Can I stay?" She whispered.

"Of course, my love," I answered, shifting her under my arm so I could walk her inside.

Olivia curled back into my chest when I leaned against the wall. I held her like that for a while, just relishing in this time with her.

"Hey," I whispered, tilting her head up to look at me, "just be here, now, don't worry about later."

A small smile tugged at her lips before she kissed me.

She let me lead her backwards down the hall, giggling when she stumbled a little only to be caught by my arm. I swung her to the side and pressed her against the wall, trapped her there with my lips. My hand trailed down the swell of her hip, to the thigh that had hitched up around my waist. She jumped and I was holding her up, both her legs wrapped around my waist.

We were lying in my bed, a sheet draped loosely over bare waists. My fingers lazily combed through Olivia's golden curls as she hummed quietly against my chest, her fingers drawing idle designs on my skin.

"Liv," I murmured, "I need up."

She whined in protest when I slid out from under her but quieted when I leaned over to kiss her softly, "I'll be right back."

I came back from the bathroom to see Olivia at the end of my bed, the sheet wrapped tight around her chest. She was running her fingers over my army bag, the carefree happy smile on her face replaced with sadness again. I crawled onto the bed behind her and kissed her shoulder.

"Do you have to go?"

"Yeah, I do," I sighed, "I signed on before I met you. But, all I know is now I want to stay here. Just want to stay here as long as I possibly can. You're all that matters anymore. If I could take it back, unsign my name, I would. You know that, right?"

She nodded and tipped her head against mine, "I put something in your bag, to remember me."

"How could I forget you, my love?" I smiled, wrapping an arm around her, "come on, don't think about it. Let's get some sleep."

--

I no longer saw the sunshine in her golden curls, couldn't find the joy in a chubby cheeked child. I had been chewed up and spit out. Thrust back into this life that I didn't know how to be in anymore. My thoughts were consumed with the faces of fallen brothers and my own bloody hands.

Anything for the mission.

I was sent back a hero after being liberated from the enemy camp. My knowledge of the enemy would lead the troops to victory. But my twisted psyche meant I wasn't fit for duty. I missed the victory because I had learned to enjoy my mission. Enjoy the pain I inflicted on others, the feeling of warm blood rushing over my fingers, the sting of another scar decorating my ribs.

No matter where I went, I was reminded of it. Men clapped my shoulder to congratulate the famous Butcher. Women fawned over the rumors they spread. It started making me feel caged and angry. Angry at the world for not leaving me alone. Angry at my wife, for pestering me, pushing me and angry at that little bastard that just never stopped. He was so god damn noisy all the time, crying and babbling. Attached to his mother like a pathetic extra limb.

Currently, he was sitting in a heap on the kitchen floor, tears streaming down his face.

"God, would you shut him up!" I yelled from the table.

Olivia whipped around from the counter, "he is a child, Neil! Your child! You could try spending time with him."

The chair I was in toppled to the ground when I stood up and I was across the kitchen in an instant, holding Olivia's chin tightly in my hand.

"Do not," I growled, "disrespect me like that again. Shut him up. Now."

Her eyes turned down away from me, "I'm sorry...I'll take him outside."

--

I stepped up behind Olivia, wrapping my arms around her waist and setting my chin on her shoulder.

"Let's go out tonight," I murmured, "just us."

I could see the bruise on her chin tremble.

"Neil," she whimpered.

"I didn't mean to, Olivia. I just lost my temper, you know how I get. It won't happen again, just, go to dinner with me."

--

"Neil!"

Olivia lunged forward, putting herself between me and our son. I stood up fast, swinging my arm out.

Two cracks, in quick succession before she thudded to the floor.

One when my hand hit Olivia's jaw, sending her falling down. The other when her head hit the edge of the countertop. Then she was on the ground, blood pooling on the tile.

--

I could feel myself coming back to my body, slowly waking up. I couldn't move myself but I was starting to become aware. I could hear his voice in my head.

"Good morning, pet."

"You're...Billy's dad?"

"Ah, yes, I could feel you rooting around my memories."

"Why are you doing this?"

I started to slip back into darkness as I heard, "We all go a little mad sometimes."

--

I groaned, finally coming back to my body. All I could feel was pain, hot and sharp as it radiated throughout my body. The back of my head, my stomach, everywhere was overwhelming pain. I tried to take a deep breath only for it to catch with a gasp.

"Katrina? Is that you?"

I struggled to open my eyes to see Billy hovering over me and realized my head was in his lap.

"Billy? What...?" I tried to move again but cried out instead when the tensing of muscles caused a spark of white hot pain.

"Billy, keep her still!"

"S-Steve?" I looked down to see him kneeling beside me.

It took me a moment to realize that the triplets were here too, all crowded around with worried looks on their faces. To really see that Steve's hands were covered in blood as they pressed into my stomach.

"How long until the ambulance gets here?"

Riley's hands were shaking as she tried to hold the phone to her ear, "fifteen minutes."

"Fuck, I need towels. As many as you can find. Hurry!"

The three of them scrambled to their feet and ran off, leaving me with the boys.

"Billy," I murmured, "I'm sorry...your...your dad. It's...him."

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, "it's okay, we know."

I could feel things starting to get hazy and looked up at Billy with watery eyes.

"How...bad?"

"It's pretty bad but you're gonna be okay. You hear me? Steve's gonna make sure you're okay."

My breath hitched, starting to come quick and shallow.

I choked on tears, "Billy, I...I don't want to die...I don't want to die here."

His jaw clenched, "you're not going to. You listen to me, I'm not going to let you. Just stay awake, keep talking to me, okay?"

@alias-b @charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama

[bytheangell]

Hey Elle what's up! I've been thinking a lot about Magnus and alcoholism lately and I'm dying for a fic about him working to give that up and Alec helping him through it. Maybe like a post canon AU where Magnus has his magic back and him and Alec are together now? No rush I know you have a lot but I think this is right up your alley and I can't really write it myself right now <3

catalyst to your own happiness(read on AO3)tw: alcohol, alcohol abuse

It’s no surprise when it comes time for a toast at the wedding that the two grooms are front and center with a champagne fluke full of bubbling liquid, clinking their glasses with impossibly large smiles before taking the first drink. Alec finishes his first and gets an immediate refill, while Magnus nurses his a little longer with smaller sips, drawing it out.

What is a surprise is that when his glass is finally empty he denies his mother-in-law’s offer to top off his drink while she goes to grab another for herself.

“Something else?” Maryse asks instead, motioning toward the expansive bar selection readily available.

Magnus only shakes his head, much to Maryse and Alec’s surprise. “No,” he starts, considering his words carefully. He doesn’t want this to be a big deal… but it is. He knows it, and he’s certain they will, too. He turns slightly to address Maryse. “I meant what I said to you back at your shop that night. Magic or not, I think it’s time I take a little more responsibility for my more… excessive indulgences.”

Maryse, if she’s surprised by this, has the good grace to hide it behind a carefully controlled expression that smiles softly and nods. “Well then, I’m even more proud of you now than I was then. Might I suggest,” she adds quietly. “A little magic to keep that full of sparkling cider? Just to deter a night of unwanted temptations?”

Magnus laughs. “The beauty and the brains of the family, I see. Now I know where Alec gets it from.” He does just that, the glass in his hand no longer empty but full of something that looks exactly like the champagne it once held - except Maryse and Alec know differently.

Maryse catches the gaze of someone across the room and gives a little wave before excusing herself from the newlyweds, leaving Alec alone with Magnus once more. Unlike his mother, Alec can’t help the look of confusion and barely masked disbelief from his expressive eyes, glancing at Magnus’ drink before looking guiltily down at what is now his third glass of champagne.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize–” Alec starts, but Magnus immediately waves a hand dismissively at the apology.

“You have nothing to apologize for. We haven’t had a lot of time to just sit and talk since… well, before everything.” There was a lot of ‘everything’ covered by that vague statement, even though only a few days passed since he broke down on the balcony and ruined Alec’s proposal dinner. “Before I got my magic back, I told Maryse that I wasn’t going to drink anymore for a little while. I never want a repeat performance of that night…” Magnus knows he doesn’t need to specify which night for Alec to know which one. “I swore I would never burden you like that again. I know I have my tolerance back with my magic but it was still quite the wake-up call, and I think I want to stick with that promise. Or try to, at least.”

Alec nods, downing the rest of his glass in one go before holding it out to Magnus. “In that case, I’ll have what you’re having.”

Magnus shakes his head with a fond smile. “Alexander, you don’t have to–” ��Of course I don’t, but I want to.” It’s such a simple gesture of solidarity but to Magnus, in this moment, it means the world.

“Alright. Just know that I honestly don’t mind if you want to indulge. This is your big day, after all. You deserve to celebrate.” Magnus draws the words out, buying time for Alec to change his mind and take the easy out. Alec doesn’t.

“It’s our big day,” Alec corrects him. “And all I need to celebrate is you.”

—

Given the short notice of the wedding, they’re both only able to take a few days on such short notice for an impromptu honeymoon. Those days are surprisingly simple because they’re more than a little preoccupied with one another, a wonderful distraction from any initial cravings Maganus might have. Again, they have a glass of wine over dinner, a drink with lunch, but that’s it. No excessive indulgences. It’s almost easy when it’s just the two of them.

The true test comes when they’ve returned to New York, but it’s one Magnus passes with flying colors… at first, in fact, it almost feels too easy to come back from their honeymoon and start their married life together as a new man. Maybe it’s just easier to psych himself out during such a monumental change in his life - his father is gone, he’s married, and he’s building up his client base one warlock at a time now that Lorenzo doesn’t have him on a universal Downworlder blacklist. Why not just slip this change in with the rest, while everything is already shifting and readjusting?

It goes well for a week or two until he gets particularly bad news about a sick warlock child. He first heard of her illness almost as soon as he got back to New York, and despite the fact that he immediately set to work on a particularly complicated elixir he’s currently in the middle of completing (one that took that full week of steeping and brewing and adding ingredients in just so over carefully measured intervals), it isn’t fast enough. He gets word that she died at 10:03 am on a Thursday, manages to hold off the worst of the impulses until 11:29 am, and pours his first glass of whiskey at 12:14 pm. Just one glass, he tells himself… which quickly turns into two, and then three, and then he isn’t bothering with the glass any more as he takes long swallows straight from the bottle.

Magnus hears Alec come home, he hears the greeting Alec calls into the apartment that he doesn’t reply to, and in the back of his head he knows that he shouldn’t be here. He should leave before Alec sees him and realizes that he fucked up… but he can’t be bothered to care just then. He certainly can’t be bothered to move. Alec walks into Magnus’ workroom to find his husband sitting on the floor next to a potion that’s hardening in the pot it was left in, two empty bottles of whiskey,  and one more nearly gone in Magnus’ hands.

The worst part of it all is that instead of numbing the pain he only feels worse.

“What happened?” Alec asks, hesitating by the doorway. He knows better than to crowd Magnus’ space when he’s like this before getting a read on the situation, and Magnus is grateful for it even as he watches Alec’s hands twitch, eager to reach out to him.

“I wasn’t good enough to save her” Magnus says, and Alec winces.

“The warlock girl… the sick one? She didn’t-” Alec starts, but can’t bring himself to finish that sentence, already knowing the answer.

“She died. She’s dead and it’s because I didn’t do enough…  there should’ve been something I could find to speed up the process, or if I was easier to reach they would’ve asked me sooner instead of going through local warlocks first, or-”

“Hey, hey,” Alec says, taking a few steps closer and kneeling down next to him on the floor. “You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault.”

Magnus shakes his head. “It is. And so is this,” he adds, half-heartedly lifting up the bottle in his hand. “Looks like I’m 2 for 2 in ruining everything that actually matters in my life right now. Careful, darling, or you’ll be next.” He knows his words have a slight slur to them but neither of them acknowledge it out loud. Alec doesn’t have to, the concern on his face speaks volumes.

Magnus wants to quit. He wants to take this as a clear sign that the sober life isn’t meant for him; he isn’t the sort of person who can just change himself after 400 years, so he should just admit defeat and move on. He almost does, expecting to look up into Alec’s face and see nothing but disappointment. It’ll be the final straw to make up his mind…

…but when he finally raises his eyes to meet Alec’s he doesn’t see disappointment, or anger, or even sadness. What he sees instead is resolve as his husband says, “I don’t believe that. And I don’t think you do, either.”

Easy for you to say, Magnus thinks, and he almost says those words out loud before he stops and really considers them. Is it easy for Alec? How could it be, to watch the man he loves struggle and fall apart? To know Magnus is doing his damndest to push Alec away?  This isn’t easy for Alec, either, even if he isn’t the one with the problem.

“You’re right. I’m not– of course I’m not thinking clearly right now.” Magnus can’t tell if he truly believes it or if he’s only saying what he knows Alec wants to hear. Either way it has the desired effect.

“How about we take a nice, long bath and go to bed early? We can sort out the rest in the morning.” Alec asks, and Magnus nods. There are no simple answers today. No solutions. He can’t undo what he did but he can pick himself up off of the floor - quite literally - and try to piece things back together. It isn’t the easy option and it’s the last thing he wants to do just then but when Alec reaches out a hand to him Magnus takes it.

He wants to give up, but he doesn’t. Not today.  

—

With Alec gone all day and Magnus with little to do outside of the occasional client, the drink cart situated in the corner of the room is more than a little tempting. He does well while Alec is around to see… but when his husband isn’t around Magnus starts to sneak a drink, or two, or three. It’s more habit than anything else and he hardly realizes he’s doing it until he has to make the effort to not do it around Alec.

It barely makes a difference - his tolerance is back to what it was before, and with his magic he barely feels anything under 4 or 5 drinks. Magnus certainly doesn’t think Alec notices until he comes home from visiting Raphael one night to hear the tail-end of a conversation Alec is having on the phone.

“I know. And I’m sure it isn’t a big deal, I just… I’m worried he’ll take it the wrong way.” Alec pauses, not hearing Magnus step inside and close the door gently behind him. “Of course you’re right, mom. It’s better I bring it up sooner rather than later. I just want to be there for him, after all, and–” Magnus places his bag down on the table, something inside clinking around enough to finally Alert Alec to his presence. Alec’s head whips around, eyes wide at the realization.

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” Alec says before hurriedly hanging up the phone.

“And how is Maryse?” Magnus asks, eyeing Alec curiously.

Alec frowns. “How much of that did you hear?”  

“Enough to know you’re worried about telling me something - which shouldn’t even be an emotion that crosses your mind, dear. This is us we’re talking about, after all.” Magnus smiles, and it only wavers the slightest bit in anticipation which threatens to betray the total confidence his words exude. “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Alec starts slowly, and there’s no denying the anxiousness in his voice, the implication of worry behind the long pause as he seems to debate just how much of what’s wrong he plans on actually sharing now that he’s put on the spot. “You’ve been drinking.”

Magnus frowns and does what he does best - tries to spin the truth, a skill he picked up and finely honed over centuries of dealing with Seelies. “Of course I have. You know I have a glass or two when we-”

“No,” Alec cuts him off, before the cover can go on for too long and they both decide it’s just easier to pretend it’s the truth. Magnus thinks for a brief moment that he isn’t sure he’s ever seen his husband look quite so nervous before, which is a concerning realization considering the sorts of situations he’s seen Alexander face.

Alec walks over to the drink cart, picks up a bottle, and grabs the stele out of his pocket to wave over one of the sides. A line appears that wasn’t visible before… a line that’s over a full inch above where the current level of liquor sits.

Rage flares up in Magnus, eyes narrowing.  

“You marked my bottles?!  You actually - I cannot believe you have such little trust in me you would go behind my back like this.” His words grow louder with every syllable, voice shaking, eyes wide. He’s on the defensive, words biting and sharp, and even though he sees the cringe on Alec’s face and the pain in Alec’s eyes the moment Magnus snaps out that first statement he doesn’t stop. “Have you been following me, too? Paying off waitresses to tell you how many martinis I ordered at lunch with Catarina?”

“Magnus, I just want to help. I can’t help if I don’t know that you’re having a problem-”

“Oh, so now you think I have a problem, too?”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it,” Alec snaps back this time. It should be enough to give Magnus a moment of pause but it isn’t. He feels too much like a wild animal backed into a corner, with nothing but the instinctive need to fight his way free. Before he can push back Alec continues, not backing off this time. “You told me this was something you wanted to do. I only want to help you if you’re having a difficult time with it. The groups I talked with to help Izzy with her addiction, they deal a lot with alcohol addiction, too. They said marking the bottles–”

“I know why you marked the goddamn bottles, Alec. I’ve been around for centuries, you think I don’t know what AA is?” Magnus rolls his eyes. Up until now he’s told himself he doesn’t really have a problem. He’s doing this because he wants to, not because he has to. Certainly not because anyone else believes he should be doing it. He actually had himself convinced that his husband was just going along with it for his own sake after Alec’s initial reaction at the wedding… he never stopped to consider that Alec might actually think he has a problem worth worrying about, too.

“I just want to be here for you,” Alec tries again, echoing the words he spoke to his mother on the phone. “And if you actually thought this was okay you wouldn’t have tried to hide it.”

Magnus turns away, seemingly in anger but mostly because he doesn’t think he can see the hurt and confusion in Alec’s eyes and remain as stubbornly upset over this as he wants to be.

“I can’t do this right now,” Magnus says finally, grabbing his bag back off of the table before heading for the door. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

“Magnus, wait-” Alec starts, but it’s too late. Magnus is out the door without so much as a stutter in his step, and doesn’t stop until he’s cleared the block. He knows it isn’t fair to Alec - he’s only trying to help, and in fact, Alec went above and beyond in that department. But Magnus feels blindsided and backed into a corner by the sudden confrontation, and he’s panicking, and now he’s aimlessly wandering the streets of New York with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

So he walks, pointedly ignoring the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t go to Cat because he knows that she’ll agree with Alec. He fears the same for Maryse and Isabelle (both of whom Alec surely spoke to already), and Raphael is out of town. So instead he wanders without a destination, and he thinks. He could just change his mind and take it back. He tried, he failed, and he’s fine going back to the way things were before.

…isn’t he?

The moment he considers that option he knows it’s a lie. The time he spent sober, not relying on alcohol as a crutch or as something to numb the difficult days, was some of the most fulfilling time he’s had in recent years. Maybe he doesn’t want to quit forever but he can’t give in now, not while his motivations are still suspect.

Alec is right: he wouldn’t be hiding it if he thought what he’s doing is okay. That should’ve been his first sign that he isn’t as alright as he’s pretending to be.

Magnus finally pulls his phone out to call Alec, only to see a number of missed calls and texts from Catarina and Raphael as well.

Cat: Where are you? Alec’s worried sick, he thought you’d be here but I told him you weren’t, and now we’re both worried. Call one of us, please.

Raphael: I don’t know how your husband got my number but if he’s upset enough to call me I feel like I should be concerned. Are you alright? Call me, por favor.

Magnus texts them both back that he’s fine and he’ll talk to them later before calling Alec’s cell. Alec picks up before the first ring even finishes.

“Magnus, thank the Angel. I’m so sorry-”

“Alec, don’t. Please don’t apologize - you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be apologizing,”  Magnus sighs. “I’m coming home.”

Magnus is dreading the conversation he knows he’ll have to have when he gets back, so he walks slowly and gathers his thoughts. When he finally opens up the front door of the apartment he sees Alec on the sofa trying very hard to look like he hasn’t just been sitting there, waiting. There’s a book open next to him as well as  a cup of tea that’s long since gone cold.

“Sorry I worried you,” Magnus starts, figuring it’s as good a place as any.

“It’s alright, as long as you’re alright.” Alec says, eagerly tossing the book to the side. “…you are, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t go drink a bottle of whiskey and pass out in a gutter somewhere, if that’s what you’re asking.” Magnus declares, deflecting.

“That isn’t what I-” Alec starts, and Magnus can already feel this turning into the conversation from earlier all over again, defensive and hostile.

“I know, I know it isn’t. Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about it like that. I just don’t know how to do this? I can’t tell when I only feel like I want it, or when I feel like I need it. And I know with my powers back I could drink for hours and be fine, but that doesn’t mean I should. And I’m just having a difficult time reconciling those things.”

Alec listens. “I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, obviously. I just want to do whatever’s best for you. You said this was something you wanted to do, and I want to be here in whatever capacity I can if it is. But if it isn’t…” Alec trails off. It isn’t like it’s been a huge problem outside of those days without his magic prior to Alec’s attempted proposal.

But one look at him and Magnus can tell that Alec is reluctant to say he’ll support Magnus if he decides to go back on  everything he said before… but Alec also doesn’t want to push him if he doesn’t want this anymore. And since Alec isn’t about to force him, the decision rests in Magnus’ hands now.

The weight of that isn’t lost on the Warlock, who falls silent for a long while after Alec’s words trail off, thinking them over.

“How about we start with full disclosure? Maybe trying to cut it all out at once was a bad idea. But I won’t hide anything any more, and we can take things from there?” Magnus takes a deep breath. “And no more pushing you away.”

Alec smiles, soft with a hint of sadness, and nods. “That sounds like an amazing plan. And I’m sorry for going behind your back with the bottles. I should’ve just said something to you first. I guess we both don’t really know how to do this… but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And that’s all it takes for something so terrifying, something so monumental for the both of them to tackle, to feel entirely doable.

Because they’re doing it together.

————–

It soon becomes obvious that it isn’t how much he’s drinking, or even what he’s drinking - it’s the reason behind it, the emotional state that brings the urges about. Magnus is fine to have a drink or two with friends, or with Alec over meals, without the slightest bit of guilt. It helps to ease him into cutting back before cutting off entirely, since the all-or-nothing attempts weren’t working out.

What he can’t have is the drink cart in the apartment fully stocked with all of his go-to vices for days when the weight of the world feels a little too heavy. And what he can’t do is turn to that before he turns to a friend when things go wrong.

It’s easier said than done, but he does it just the same. He isn’t perfect, but Alec is there every step of the way to bring him back when he starts to slip. There are bumps in the road and nights out that, because he spent so long abstaining in-between, he indulges a little too much… but he’s finding a balance. He’s finding things that work for him because he wants to, and not because he feels pressured to by anyone for any reason other than simply getting better. 

The more Magnus allows himself to go to Alec  - or even Maryse, Catarina, or Raphael - when he’s having a particularly rough go of it, the easier it is to end that day on a positive note. That isn’t to say he doesn’t have some days that are worse than others; days when Alec comes home and Magnus admits he went out for a few too many drinks with an old friend and somewhere along the line started putting gin in the ‘just tonic’s. But it’s better than the start, and he’s making solid progress.

The first few times Isabelle invites him along to a meeting he turns her down. But after one particularly trying day when he finds himself pacing, actively trying to talk himself out of portaling to the nearest bar, he calls her up instead. It seems silly to talk about his life in mundane terms, and to think of it as a disease to be cured and not just a personality trait to be corrected. He doesn’t go often but it’s nice to hear from people who are going through the same thing.

It helps.

He takes up training with Alec to channel his frustrations. That helps, too… as does another less public form of stress relief Alec is more than happy to indulge in when Magnus needs a distraction.

Magnus hardly notices when he starts cutting back from casual social drinking as well, only imbibing once or twice a week until he isn’t even doing that. He reaches a point where he no longer feels as if he needs it- but more than that, he doesn’t even want it any more.

After an entire month without touching a single drop of alcohol Magnus comes home to dinner and a glass of sparkling cider on the table waiting for him.

“I thought this deserved a toast. I hope it’s alright, I know you didn’t say anything about it earlier so I’m not sure if you wanted to celebrate or not, but I know a full month is a pretty big milestone, and-” Alec starts to ramble a bit, and Magnus silences him with a finger brought up to Alec’s lips, followed quickly by a kiss.

“It’s fine. It’s perfect, Alexander. Thank you.” Magnus picks up his glass and waits for Alec to do the same. “To you, and all the unwavering love and support you’ve offered from the start.” Mangus says the words, moving his glass forward to meet Alec’s with a delicate ‘clink’.

“And to you” Alec adds. “For making this difficult decision for yourself and sticking to it. I’m so proud of you, Magnus.”

“Thank you. For everything,” Magnus smiles.

He knows better than to think one month means he’s rid of it for good, but Magnus allows himself this night to bask in the feeling of this current victory, even if it ends up being temporary.

Because this - despite what he’s sure they all believe - isn’t the first time he’s attempted to quit drinking. This is, however, the longest he’s managed to stick with it. There were times in his past - whether out of a loss of a loved one, or the loss of love itself, or sometimes just the weight of the things he’s seen and the horrors he’s lived through - where he’s gone too far even with his warlock tolerance to balance things out. He’s tried on his own to stop drinking in the past, obviously with little to no success given the recent state of things.

He doesn’t tell Alec all of that, however. If this fails - if he fails - he wants it to seem as if this is just a first attempt and not just another in a long line of broken promises to himself to get better.

Except this time he has something he didn’t have during any of those previous attempts. This time he has friends and family to support him; he has people to lean on.

This time he has Alexander.

And with Alec by his side he feels like he can take on the world, one glass of sparkling cider at a time.