#just wanna stress again though: discomfort is not harm

[something-about-sunflowers]

hi!! i'm the anon who sent the message abt ur post + victim-blaming. i just wanted to reiterate, i have no stake in that discourse and add that if anything, i agree with the broad points of your post at most (again, i only go here in a secondhand way. what the fuck is going on with someone's boss cutting off their subordinate's toe, making their subordinate eat it, and then being called the victim of that situation. help what the fuck).

to clarify, i sent that ask in good faith, and it was sent mainly because of the fact that the framing of "[character] is too competent to be abused by [other character]/you must think negatively about [character]'s competence to assume he could not get rid of a hypothetical attempted abuser" makes me very uncomfortable and i wanted to point out i thought ur wording may be harmful. i do not think that you are intending to make a point about irl victims of abuse and am not accusing you of anything — sorry if my original ask didn't make that clear enough! i don't think you are attempting to hurt anyone and i very much am not trying to get you to take down ur post (or anything similar?), i just believe it can be incredibly harmful to frame the subject of escaping or avoiding abuse as being about competency in any form, and at most i would ask you to reconsider that wording.

Right, so. I think the main issue here is: You're lacking the context. You say you're coming at this in good faith and, again, I'd like to believe that so I'll respond in kind.

I'm just gonna kind of rapid-fire some of the context and we'll go from there, we don't have to actually get into it and to be honest I'm probably not going to respond if you message me again because I really don't see this conversation going anywhere productive, since, we've established that I'm not talking about real people.

The boss who did the maiming (cutting off the toe) and forced autocannibalism is the one certain people say is being abused by the subordinate that he did it to. Said boss - Ed - is literally, essentially, the boss of everyone around him at any given point, he's well liked as well. The subordinate - Izzy - is supposed to be his second in command but has no way to enforce his own authority because Ed isn't enforcing it, he's significantly less well liked than Ed. He's literally nearly murdered by the people he's supposed to be in charge of and all it takes for it to stop is an absent request by Ed for Izzy to bring him tea. As an example of how well liked and respected Ed is in comparison to how disliked and disrespected Izzy is.

Izzy says some mean shit to Ed - which, arguably, doesn't really seem to faze him much? - and apologizes later for it. He makes some deals behind Ed's back - for what he thinks is Ed's own good (I'm inclined to say he's not entirely in the wrong, for what it's worth, not all good but not all bad either) - accepts what he considers to be fair punishment for it (a punch in the face, for the setting I'm inclined to agree it's fair). Imperatively, after he says the mean shit and apologizes, he's trying to leave. Ed is the one who insists that he stay.

Another important thing to note: Ed has experienced abuse. His father was abusive towards his mother and while it's never shown or directly implied on screen, it can be inferred fairly easily that he was abusive towards Ed as well. Ed murdered his father. And while he has some trauma centering on directly murdering people as a result he has no qualms about having other people do the murdering for him. He orders a man skinned with an escargot fork, tied to something 'very heavy', and thrown overboard for being racist at him (fair). He's, arguably, committed several other murders directly and simply rationalized away his own involvement in the resulting deaths 'technically, the fire killed those guys'. This is what I mean when I say he could easily get rid of someone in Izzy's position (social and professional standing) who was trying to abuse him.

I could go on.

Regardless. I'll admit that maybe my wording in my response wasn't the best, though I maintain that my original post has nothing wrong with it. A misunderstanding on your part due to lack of context and by way of it not being a conversation with you does not fall on me.

My issue with the idea of the characters' competence in relation to the possibility of an abusive relationship is, actually, that I don't believe there is that disparity in their respective competency levels - at least not as wide as all that. I don't believe they're in an abusive relationship but it's not because I think one is too competent to be a victim. My mentioning their competency at all is because the same people who insist that it is abusive also insist on the disparate competence levels. It's infantilizing Ed to say that, even though he's so much better than Izzy in every way, Izzy still has this power over him. And again, I have to stress, Ed is the one in a position of power over Izzy in multiple contexts. It does reflect poorly on their interpretation of Ed to imply that Izzy is abusing him.

All that aside? I am not responsible for your discomfort and discomfort is not harm. I do try to be considerate in my wording but, as I said: I cannot, will not, and should not have to preempt every potential read of the things that I say. We understand that I'm not talking about real people, but fictional ones, that should be the end of this. After that, if you are still made uncomfortable on my views or my wording, the onus is on you to remove yourself. You came to my ask box. Anonymously. I do not know who you are to block you - and I'm honestly not quite sure how reliably tumblr blocks accounts of anonymous askers - you are more than welcome to block me for the sake of your own comfort. I will take no offense. I am a strong advocate for curating your own spaces online and the block button is my best friend.

Again, I'm not likely to respond if you send another ask. I honestly can't see this conversation going anywhere productive, as, we're really just talking in circles. That said, I hope you have a nice day, genuinely. And I do recommend actually getting the context and watching Our Flag Means Death, it's really not as serious as all this, it's got its darker moments but - ultimately - it's a rom-com. I'd maybe advise avoiding the wider fandom though, find yourself a small group and stick to it (ideally one that understands that anon hate, harassment, death threats, sui-bait, and doxxing are bad things regardless of what the target thinks about fictional characters - there's some crazy people in this fandom and they're best avoided).

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.9

Summary: Walter and Penny can almost welcome their kid, however Penny starts to become very anxious

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Just mentions of punching people

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

I’m thirty weeks pregnant and I know that I have around eight to ten weeks to go, however, this pregnancy has been pretty straining on my back, my pelvis and basically my entire body. Moving around is painful and my mom is over at our place a lot of the time to help me out. I’m thanking the heavens that I am not doing cosmetology school now as well, knowing for a fact that I probably couldn’t keep up at all.

If I’m not sitting on the couch reading, I’m crying because I am sitting in the nursery and think about having a little baby and all the bad things that could happen to them.

Walter is drained from a rough day of patrolling and he plops next to me on the couch. Just like any other day, I barely moved, however he still asks me the question.

‘How was your day, princess?’

‘Boring,’ I mumble. ‘How was yours?’

He simply shrugs, probably because something happened and he doesn’t want me to worry. I rest my head against his chest and without thinking it seems, he places his hand on my stomach. ‘Have they been good to you?’ he asks

‘They sure have been,’ I chuckle. ‘Just hate the fact that I’m practically glued to the couch.’

Walter nods, pressing a kiss on top of my head. I know he worries a lot and therefore confides to my mom, asking her what more he can do to help me out. Walter is being the perfect boyfriend, because even my mom said that he is doing literally all he can to help me out. One night I found him scrolling and searching for tricks to ease the pain and discomfort, though he never lets me in on it.

‘If you’re up for it, we could have dinner,’ he says, ‘somewhere other than our living room.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know what you’re craving. I’m up for anything.’

‘Pizza?’ I ask. ‘I would really love a Hawaiian Pizza.’

Walter frowns for a second—probably remembering how I told him multiple times that I hate pineapple on pizza—but then he nods. ‘Of course, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

We’re sitting at a restaurant across from each other and it’s nice to be out and about again. I mean, I go to town with my parents a lot, I hang out with the ladies from the pregnancy class, but going out with Walter has been a while, especially because he has been working long hours and I’m tired after one trip to anywhere basically.

Walter actually stretched out his leg underneath the table, towards my side, so I can rest my feet on it. Every time I have a crust left, I hand it over to him and with a small smile he accepts them. ‘So,’ I say, ‘I’ve been thinking about a name.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I would say that for a girl we could call her Emma.’

Walter tilts his head. ‘Emma Marshall, sounds cute,’ he says with a smile. ‘You have a name for when it’s a boy?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I actually think they’re a girl.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Why do you think that, princess?’

‘Just a gut feeling,’ I chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

‘I have no idea,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to take. When I placed mine in his, he adds: ‘I actually have a name for a boy. Wanna hear?’

‘Always.’

‘Declan.’

Oh, that’s a lovely name. I don’t think I even know someone who is named Declan. ‘Declan Marshall. That sounds so cute. I absolutely adore it, Walter.’

Walter smiles and gives me a kiss on my hand. ‘We’ll see how we name them.’

‘Yeah,’ I chuckle. ‘Just around ten weeks or less,’ I say. ‘Kinda nervous.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s giving birth, Walter. That’s scary. All these other ladies are so confident and proud of what their bodies can do and all. I mean, sure, that’s awesome, but it also terrifies me.’

‘Understandable,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.’

‘I know,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. With being pregnant, it’s just all a fantasy. With a newborn, it’s the real deal.’

Walter nods, taking in my worries. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you and I can manage.’

‘You’re being awfully nonchalant about it.’

‘That’s because I need to stay calm for you. Believe me, princess, I’m freaking out on the inside.’

I frown, because that’s the first time he actually told me those words. Usually he says that he cannot wait for this baby to arrive, though it is a little scary every now and then, but saying he is freaking out?

That’s new.

‘What?’ I ask him. ‘Are you serious?’

He nods. ‘I mean, being a parent is difficult. Growing up I didn’t have the love and support I needed. I basically raised myself and judging from the person I am today, I didn’t really do a good job.’

‘You did an excellent job,’ I retort. I know about his youth and how he had to raise himself, how you can still notice it in his day to day life. ‘Walter, please tell me about your worries. You don’t always need to be the protective big bear who prevents me from any harm. I’m a big girl and I need you to confide with me. Please?’

He sighs as he is looking everywhere but to me. This is hard, I can see it, but from the looks of it, he is gonna agree with me. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Dinner ended not so great. As we were walking back from the restaurant to our car, two guys thought it was necessary to whistle at me (I didn’t even notice at first, but then Walter’s entire demeanor changed, so that’s how I was informed about the matter).

Let’s just say, it evolved into an argument and then one of the guys thought it was an excellent idea to push Walter. I applaud him for having the guts to push my boyfriend, but it was honestly one of the stupidest things for him to do, because Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he punched the guy and his friend.

Multiple times.

I have been ignoring him for the entire drive and once we’re home, I still don’t know what to say to him.

‘Princess,’ he whispers, carefully trying to approach me as I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt. ‘Please talk to me.’

I purse my lips together, as tears burn in my eyes.

He sits behind me, placing his hands on my upper arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For scaring you. I was just protecting you, darling.’

‘What’s wrong with just ignoring the matter, Walter?’ I ask him, turning to the side so I can look at him without craning my neck. ‘You scared me back there.’

‘I’m not gonna let some dip shit whistle at you, especially not when I’m next to you,’ he defends himself.

‘You’re an officer,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t think this is proper behavior.’

‘I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you,’ Walter retorts.

‘That’s not the point. The point is you put yourself in danger.’

‘Hardly.’

I glare at him. ‘I don’t like this,’ I say. ‘Have you any idea how stressful it was for me? You know what, never mind. I’m going to sleep.’

He scoots back and I wrap my arms around the pregnancy pillow, with my back towards him. I love Walter, I really do, but this… I saw it all unfolding in front of my eyes.

It would start with an argument, some light pushing, until the other guys would pull out a knife, stab Walter, which would result in a trip to the hospital. Possibility of death. Me having to bury the father of my child.

I push my face in the soft fabric of the pillow, as hot tears slide over my cheeks. Walter sighs deeply next to me and starts to toss and turn next to me. His leg bumps into mine and it causes him to hold his breath. ‘Sorry, Penny,’ he says.

I dry my cheeks on the pillow. ‘Walter,’ I whisper, ‘you know I worry when you go to work.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but you don’t need to.’

‘You’re gonna be the father of our kid,’ I continue, ‘and I’d like to raise them with you, not in memory of you.’

‘Princess,’ he whispers, ‘we’re gonna raise this kid and eventual others together. You know, before I met you, I was an adrenaline junkie, detective or not. I got into a lot of shit, hence the reason I was suspended and started teaching. You, my love, made me realize that chasing danger like I used to, is not gonna get me further in life. Now I have you, I have the love of my life here with me and I’m never ever gonna do anything that’ll put me or you or our child in danger.’

‘Then why did you punch him?’

‘Because he started it,’ Walter says, only for him to realize how toddler like that sounds. ‘I just want to protect you against anyone,’ he says in a softer tone. ‘Because I love you, Penelope Townsend. You are my everything.’ He wraps his arm around my upper body, pressing a kiss against my temple. ‘I’m sorry I scared you, Penny. I never meant to do such thing.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry for overreacting.’

‘No, no, no, you’re not overreacting. Maybe I was.’ He pulls me closer to his own body and places his hand on my stomach. ‘Just know that I will forever protect you and the baby.’

I chuckle. ‘I know that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid anymore, not when I’m around at least.’

He smiles. ‘I’ll tone it down a notch, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

‘Is that that colosseum thing you were talking about?’ Walter gestures towards my chest and I look down, spotting two tiny wet patches near my chest area, before bursting into laughter.

‘Colostrum, Walter, not colosseum.’ Oh dear, he is totally blushing, because of his mistake. ‘Can you grab me another shirt?’

I barely asked the question, when he jumps up and rushes upstairs. I rub my stomach a little bit, slightly scared at how much it expanded. I’m close to the end of my pregnancy, having reached thirty nine weeks yesterday. I wonder how it’ll ever go back to normal.

Walter comes down again and without me asking he changes my shirt. ‘Have I told you I loved you today?’

‘A few times.’ I give him a kiss and whisper: ‘I’m proud of you.’

He frowns. ‘Why are you proud of me? You’re the one growing an entire baby here.’ He carefully places his hands on the side of my stomach. ‘The least I can do is to make things as comfortable for you as possible.’

‘But you always do it without complaining,’ I say. ‘I heard that Stacey’s husband is such a pain in the ass. Always complaining, groaning about how much he has to do nowadays.’

Walter scoffs. ‘Well, pregnant or not, I’d like to worship you, make your life as easy as I possibly can.’ He gives me a kiss. ‘What can I do for you, darling?’

‘Sex,’ I say, before I curl my lips in. Oh gosh, never have I been so straight forward. My cheeks heat up. ‘No, please, forget what I said.’

‘Is my girl asking me for sex?’ Walter starts to laugh. ‘The day Penny Townsend asked me for sex has finally arrived.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I laugh nervously. ‘It’s just been awhile.’ Awhile equals three months. I hate how he sometimes initiates, but I simply shake my head. It’s a combination of a very low sex drive, not feeling pretty and being in pain nearly twenty four seven.

He leans forward and kisses me. ‘Want to go to the bedroom, princess or is the couch acceptable as well?’

‘We can stay here,’ I whisper.

‘Then let me close the curtains and lock the door, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I mumble.

When he comes back, he takes off his shirt, so I can admire his beautiful strong body. There is something so special about Walter. He looks strong enough to left a car up with one arm, but he is a mushy man the second the front door closes and we’re together. He kneels in front of me, pressing open mouth kisses on my lips. ‘Shit, I love you,’ he says against my mouth. He disregards my shirt and admires me.

‘Stop,’ I say, rolling my eyes.

‘No, no, no, I could never stop admiring you.’ He places his hands on my expanded stomach and says: ‘You’re so beautiful.’

He gives me a long kiss and then I whimper. Not out of pleasure, but out of shock.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me.

‘I think my water broke.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Twelve hours later, I am looking at Walter, who holds the little baby in his strong arms. He sits next to me on the bed and wraps one arm around my shoulders. ‘Penny, princess,’ he says, ‘I don’t think words can describe how proud I am of you and how much I love you.’

I nuzzle my face in his chest. ‘I love you too. Thank you for not freaking out.’

‘Externally freaking out you mean, because on the inside I was fainting,’ he chuckles. He gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘I’m a dad.’

I actually see some tears in his eyes and I cannot stop my own either. ‘I know.’ I place my hand on the little bundle and whisper: ‘We’re officially parents. It’s so surreal.’ I let out a deep and content sigh.

The little baby opens their eyes and I cannot stop my smile.

‘Hi, little one,’ Walter says. ‘Oh no, Penny, we’ve created an exact copy of yours.’

I chuckle. ‘Good luck saying no to him,’ I say. ‘We love you so much, Declan Marshall. So so much.’

[cottoncandyjester]

need more content of darling with the yandere kids barley see them interact together☹️

Part 1 of wholesome parent darling stuff! Definitely will do a part 2

Warning this contains: talk about self harm, wholesome stuff

Lyric:

lyric was a mystery to you, he was always in his room for hours and hours never letting you in. You never felt more confused about your own child, when did he become so distant.

“Lyric, hey baby?” You cooed out as you stood outside his door, there was a few moments of silence before he opened the door. “Yeah? What’s up?” He said, now holding his camera in his hand.

“What are you up to?” You asked out softly hoping for some kind of answer, lyric looked down nervously trying to decide how he should answer “well I was gonna go out into woods and take some photos, I usually only take photos of the city so I wanna change it up” he said softly.

“Oh? How about we have a picnic then, just me and you!” You cheered out excitedly with a bright smile. Lyric looked at you in confusion before giving a soft nod, you reached out softly ruffling his hair, the contact making him tense up for a brief moment before he relaxed under your touch.

“Go get dressed yeah? We’ll make it a whole day” you said happily, now excited to bond with lyric some more. Lyric watched as you happily walked out a look of discomfort on his face as his gripped his camera

He didn’t deserve your love..he didn’t deserve neither your or zeke’s love, he was a bad kid..so why were you so nice? Lyric sighs before he got dressed, humming as he put cute hair clips you bought him in his hair.

He likes all the things you get him, it made him feel so warm and happy inside. “You ready?” You called out, your response making him perk up as he grabbed his bag and sling it over his shoulder now walking to the door where you stood with the car keys and a basket.

As you two sat on the picnic blanket, lyric laid on his back taking pictures of the sky, you suppose now was a good of time if any to try to get him to open up.

“Hey, lyric?”

“Hmm?”

“Yknow me and dad are here for you, right? No matter what” you said softly, your response making him shudder as he sat up and looked up at you now looking down nervously. “Something is going on with you, I just wish you would talk to me..I know you’re not a baby anymore but you’ll always be my child” you said lovingly.

You were surprised to see tears roll down his cheeks, a sniffling escaping him as he looked at you “I-I’m sorry, all I do is make you and papa stress..I-I wish I could be good, I just want to be good” he cried out, you quickly pulled lyric into a hug as he cried into your chest.

“ oh baby,. You are good. You’re amazing and smart and so talented” you cooed out as you pulled him back now wiping his tears away as he looked at you, for the first time in a while he let his walls down..he actually felt like a normal kid.

Lyric vented to you in ways he hasn’t for a while, he told you everything from the self harm to indigo to what he was feeling. There were lots of tears and crying but it made you two closer. “I-I wish you told me sooner, I’m always in your corner” you cried out as you hugged lyric close who was smiling despite his tears..

He really did love you so much..maybe he did deserve your love.

Yuuri:

“You didn’t have to come..” yuuri mumbled out softly as he glanced away, an embarrassed blush on his face as you two stood backstage. “And miss my kid’s first official concert? No way!” You cheered out happily with a smile, you were so proud of him!

“Ah, what if I’m not any good..” he mumbled out nervously with a shaky huff “there is a lot of people out there, what if I screw up?” He said softly with a scared expression, you softly grabbed his hands the action making him look at you in shock.

“You’re gonna do great! Wanna know why?”

“W-why?”

“Cause you’re the greatest no matter what! and I love you no matter what!” You cheered out, your remark being heard by his bandmates

“Oooh yuuri, they wuvvvv you!”

“Say you wuv them back, wittle yuuri”

Yuuri growled lowly, face red “s-shut up! We go on soon! Come on!” He hissed out angrily before glancing back at you “thanks..” he whispers out with a grin. “Hey, it’s my job” you said before giving him a thumbs up and walking off to take your seat.

When on stage, yuuri let out a shaky breath before looking out into the crowd eyes landing on you, you were proud of him..that’s all he really needed.

Yuuri put everything he had in that performance, he was pretty sure his voice was gonna be gone the next day from how much he was screaming. Even still he really wanted to find you and gush about how amazing it was. “I did it! They cheered so loud! And they sounded like they liked it! It was so cool and-” you held back a laugh as yuuri vented, where did the time go..he was already 17 yet here he was gushing and ranting like a little kid.

Without thinking you reached out and ruffled up his hair “you were amazing” you said softly. Yuuri stopped talking and looked at you, his smile growing bigger as he rubbed the back of his neck “of course I was!you raise me after all!” He cheered out

Kai:

“What made you wanna dye your hair?” You asked Kai as you applied the dye to his hair, he suddenly asked you to dye his hair..which you of course agreed to! “Well, I figured dying it blue would be fun” he cheered out making you tense up.

“B-blue..?”

“Yeah! The dye I bought is blue, the box is blue after all!” He cheered out, you glanced at the blue box with bright pink letters on it..oh dear. “You really want blue hair?” You said nervously, you and rin didn’t have the smartest kid..but damn he does try to be.

“Well honestly I thought blue would match me a lot, so yeah!” He cheered out happily. “Baby, my sweet boy..you bought pink hair dye..” you said softly as you looked at his hair..you already applied it all on.

“H-huh but the boy-”

“It says pink hair dye on it kai” you said softly making him silent.

“Oh..we’ll that’s okay!” He cheered out happily, you were so glad that he wasnt a picky kid. After waiting the suggested time you helped him wash it out before styling it.

“Ta-da” you cheered out as you two stood in a mirror, he gasps softly not sure what to think..pink did look nice but he felt dumb for getting the wrong dye. “ I look like a bubblegum..” he whispers out softly.

“You don’t like it?” You asked worriedly, he looked to you before smiling “no no I do love it! I just feel silly..I made a dumb mistake again..” he said sadly, you frowned now hugging him “aww Kai, it wasn’t dumb..I think it looks better like this!” You reassured him with a laugh

“Then will you dye your hair pink too? We can match!”

Freya:

You definitely noticed freya sneaking into the house, trying to be sneaky as she tried to creep to her room. “Freya, I see you” you said firmly making her squeak, you got a call from her school saying that she didn’t go that day.

“Wanna talk to me and tell me why you missed school?” You asked out softly, the girl looked down a wave of nervousness washing over her. “I-I don’t wanna go to school anymore..they don’t wanna call me freya, a-and they keep making me use the boys bathroom still” she said softly clearly very uncomfortable.

Your eyes softened and you sighed heavily, hugging the girl “I’ll make some calls okay? But next time you gotta let me know, or else I can’t fix it” you said lovingly.

“Also, you changed how you styled your hair..it’s pretty” you said with a smile, the fact that you noticed made the girl tear up with a happy expression. “Y-you noticed?! I-I’m trying to look cuter lately” she said softly as she messed with her hair tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I-of I look cuter than people will stop calling me a boy” she mumbled out softly, freya really was a soft sensitive soul. “You’re not a boy though. You’re my awesome and beautiful daughter!” You cheered out, now making the girl cry more as she hugged you tightly.

“Hey, how about we go out for a pampering? Nails done and even shopping yeah?” You asked softly, freya nodded softly still burying her tear stained face in your clothes. “You’re the best.” She whispers out softly.

“Of course I am, yknow how clueless your father can be about this” you said with a huff, you adored and loved prince..but he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about this topic and only ever made freya feel worse about herself.

You made sure to only raise her up and she adored you for that

[bestworstcase]

What are your opinions on the whole "Cassandra is a toxic friend for Rapunzel" or "Rapunzel and Cass's friendship was a toxic one" statements?

so.

first of all, “toxic” is one of those buzzwords that gets tossed around on a lot in online spaces and as always with those, i think it’s important to clarify precisely what i mean. the formal definition of “toxic relationship” as phrased by dr. lillian glass, who coined the term, is: 

any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness.

toxicity in a relationship doesn’t necessarily stem from abuse (although all abusive relationships are toxic; rectangles and squares, etc). sometimes, it’s just that two people aren’t good for each other, or don’t mesh well, or have other things going on that make it so they can’t do the work necessary to build a sustainable relationship. regardless of the root cause, though, all toxic relationships:

- create persistent stress, unhappiness, discomfort, anxiety, anger, malaise, or resignation, instead of creating joy,

- may catalyze or exacerbate mental health issues of people trapped in them,

- make communication between participants difficult or impossible,

- warp interpersonal boundaries within the relationship, and

- have a detrimental effect on attachments outside the relationship.

so with our term defined, do cass and rapunzel have a toxic friendship?

yeah.

but—and this is the controversial part of my Opinion™ lol—it’s rapunzel, not cassandra, who’s the toxic friend. 

as i see it, there are two major problems here: 

#1: rapunzel has no respect for cassandra’s boundaries.

one idea i see expressed an awful lot in both cass-fan and cass-critical circles is that cassandra isn’t good at communicating her feelings, desires, or needs and frankly... no. i used to kind of nod along with this, but i increasingly just do not agree that this is a general trait of hers.

consider her behavior in season 1.

in before ever after: 

CASS: You can’t let Eugene see you!

RAPUNZEL: What? Why?

CASS: He can’t know anything about last night! I told you, Rapunzel, if it gets out I took you outside Corona, I’m done for.

RAPUNZEL: But I trust Eugene.

CASS: Well I don’t. [beat] My Dad will have me taken off princess detail. We’ll never see each other again.

cass states a boundary plainly and directly, and explains her reasoning so that rapunzel will understand why it’s so important to her that rapunzel keep their excursion a secret. 

in what the hair: 

CASS: Raps, I told you, we can’t tell anyone about that night!

RAPUNZEL: Um, Cass, I think the secret’s pretty much out.

CASS: Yeah, yeah, everyone know’s the hair’s back—but if anyone found out I was the one who snuck you out when it happened, I would be sent to a convent. Literally a convent.

RAPUNZEL: Well... I have to tell Eugene.

CASS: No, no, no no—as far as he knows, you... just woke up that morning with long hair.

RAPUNZEL: But Eugene is my boyfriend! We tell each other everything!

CASS: I know this is a lot to ask, but I can’t risk it. Please, don’t tell Eugene.

again, cass is upfront in asking rapunzel to keep this secret from her. she even acknowledges that she’s asking a lot from rapunzel, but her livelihood and home are dependent on this secret staying secret, and cass spells this out as clearly as possible for rapunzel. 

then, when eugene tries to guilt-trip rapunzel into telling him the secret, cass cuts in to emphasize—again—why she doesn’t want him to know: “I don’t trust you. You have a big mouth,” a statement she backs up with multiple examples just from the week or so since BEA.

and later in the episode: 

RAPUNZEL: This isn’t right, Cassandra! I have to tell Eugene.

CASS: No! Rapunzel, I want to trust you. And I trust that you trust Eugene, but I don’t trust Eugene, and if I can’t trust Eugene, I can’t trust you, and you’re just going to have to trust me. [beat] Trust me, that logic tracks. 

the gag of course is that this is not an especially eloquent way of stating her point, but the reasoning here does in fact track: cassandra’s safety depends on keeping their excursion secret, and she doesn’t trust eugene’s ability or willingness to protect her by keeping the secret, therefore she is asking—really, begging, at this point—rapunzel not to tell him.

cassandra’s communication on this point is always crystal clear. she empathizes with rapunzel’s discomfort keeping the secret from eugene, she understands why rapunzel feels that way, and she repeatedly and clearly asks rapunzel to prioritize cassandra’s safety over her own discomfort. 

and rapunzel refuses. in the final scene of what the hair, rapunzel checks to make sure that cassandra isn’t paying attention, then tells eugene the truth. his gut reaction is to cheer because oho cass is in for it now, and of course raps shuts this down—but she doesn’t care that she just betrayed cassandra’s trust. she’s just relieved that she’s no longer hiding anything from eugene. 

now, we don’t get to see cassandra’s reaction to this, but cass is standing right there, and even if she didn’t hear rapunzel telling him the secret, she would certainly have heard eugene crowing about getting her into trouble. there is no way she doesn’t realize what just happened. 

it’s not brought up again in the next few episodes, so we can assume that cass simply decided to let it slide. rapunzel doesn’t mean any harm, after all, and she got eugene to promise not to spill the beans. it is what it is. cass just has to hope neither of them tell anyone else.

and this brings us to the next time cass tries to establish a boundary with rapunzel, in challenge of the brave.

now in this situation, there’s no danger to cassandra. she just wants to participate in the challenge and she’s simply not keen on the idea of competing alongside rapunzel.

but... remember what happened the last time cass laid down a boundary with rapunzel? not just any boundary, but a boundary about something that was a significant and immediate threat to cassandra’s safety? remember how carefully and clearly she explained herself to rapunzel, how she pleaded for rapunzel to protect her by keeping the secret—only for rapunzel to glibly do the one thing cass begged her not to do?

in challenge of the brave, cassandra knows that rapunzel won’t listen to her stated boundaries even when cassandra’s whole life in the palace is at stake. and the stakes are not that high with the challenge, not by a long shot, so what does cass do when rapunzel tries to tag along?

RAPUNZEL: I wanna sign up!

CASS: You mean compete?!

RAPUNZEL: Let’s do it together! 

[excited kid babble]

CASS: That would be fun... but I’m not so sure that’s the best idea...

RAPUNZEL: I’m brave! And I’m always up for a challenge!

CASS: But th- the thing is, the Challenge is by invitation only, so you can’t do it. Oh, man, ughh, rules are rules!

RAPUNZEL: Aw, okay. But you can always count on me to cheer you on!

first, cass drops a large hint that she really is not enthused about the idea of competing in the challenge with rapunzel. she’s clearly hoping that raps will pick up on her disinterest and back off on her own (and if rapunzel were more socially astute, she probably would, because cass is... not subtle). 

but when this doesn’t work, instead of saying outright that she wants to do the challenge by herself, cass scrambles and makes up a lie to prevent rapunzel from entering. why? well, rapunzel didn’t listen to her when the stakes were “i will be sent to a convent,” so she has no reason to think rapunzel will listen to her when the stakes are “this is just something i want to do by myself.” 

this happens again when rapunzel is making cass uncomfortable before the challenge begins; in contrast to BEA/WTH, cass is visibly uncomfortable being open about her feelings with rapunzel now, so she says “Why don’t you go find Eugene in the stands?” instead of being direct about what she wants.

now of course, all this falls apart when rapunzel discovers the lie and decides to sign up for the challenge at the last minute. cass reacts quite badly to this, with her frustration and hurt feelings bubbling up more and more throughout the challenge. but like, at this point, what is she supposed to do? rapunzel is in the ring. she’s going to be in the challenge whether cass likes it or not, and when rapunzel first enters, cass tries really hard to grit her teeth and be a good sport about it.

she just... can’t, because the challenge means too much to her. it represents her life outside of being rapunzel’s servant, and rapunzel joining in and effortlessly succeeding at things cass has trained hard for feels like rapunzel taking that away from her.

all of which eventually culminates in... this: 

RAPUNZEL: Wait, stop! We’re supposed to be friends!

CASS: A friend wouldn’t be so oblivious, Rapunzel. You have no idea what this contest means to me! I mean, you’re a princess, you’ve got nothing to prove. To you, this was just a fun way to blow off a Saturday, but to me, it was a chance to show everyone that I am more than just your lady-in-waiting. And just when I thought I might get even the slightest bit of respect... Never mind.

cass spends the whole day bottling these feelings up, but when she does finally snap, she is able to clearly and succinctly express what her problem is. and though this isn’t explicitly stated, it seems likely to me that cassandra didn’t say any of this earlier because she assumed rapunzel wouldn’t care. when raps says “I respect you, I look up to you!” cass is visibly taken aback. 

and this is super important!! because rapunzel listens. even though cass tried to brush off her own feelings, rapunzel sees what her problem was, understands her, and immediately offers her a true, heartfelt apology. this matters to cass. this is why she lets go of her anger, and why she’s able to gracefully accept rapunzel’s victory a few minutes later. she’s not just seeing that rapunzel really does care for her, she’s also seeing a marked change from how rapunzel treated her in BEA/WTH. she’s seeing a signal from rapunzel that rapunzel DOES care about her boundaries after all.

like with the BEA/WTH incident, this leads into the next time cass expresses a boundary with rapunzel, in under raps. 

in under raps, the stakes are super high again: cass is a key player in a dangerous game of espionage with an insurgent who’s going to attempt to steal top secret information that would put all of corona in danger if it fell into the wrong hands. and cass is doing this on top of all her duties as a lady-in-waiting and a maid, during an obnoxious holiday that she’s not a fan of in general, so she’s pretty damn stressed.

anyway, at the beginning of the episode, cass is very open about how she feels about the day of hearts, and when rapunzel tries to “fix” this, cass makes her disinterest clear—first politely, and then more pointedly when rapunzel doesn’t take the hint: “I don’t have time right now. You two have fun though, okay?” → “Will you just stop, Rapunzel?” and, when rapunzel continues to push: 

CASS: Look, Raps, I get what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, but I’m fine.

RAPUNZEL: Cass, no! Something is clearly wrong; you never wanna hang out, you keep disappearing, you don’t even want to beat up Eugene!

CASS: I’m dealing with... some stuff. Stuff I’m not ready to share–but when I am ready, you’ll be the first person I go to. Trust me.

here, as in BEA/WTH, cassandra has no trouble articulating what she wants from rapunzel. she doesn’t elaborate on exactly what’s going on, but she is upfront that 1) there is something, 2) she’s not ready to talk about it, 3) she’s planning on telling rapunzel once she’s ready, and 4) she wants rapunzel to stop pushing in the meantime. and... unlike in BEA/WTH, it seems like cass actually trusts rapunzel to listen to her because she’s taken to heart the way rapunzel apologized in COTB.

except... once again, rapunzel ignores her clearly stated boundaries. she’s too curious about what cassandra is up to to wait until cass is ready to share, so she follows cass and spies on her, taking the choice to share out of cassandra’s hands. then, despite recognizing that cassandra is not keen to be open about her relationship with andrew (rapunzel notes to eugene that cass seems “shy” about it), rapunzel decides to push for even more: 

CASS: A double date?!

RAPUNZEL: Yes! They’re four person fun-machines!

CASS: Rapunzel, I appreciate your enthusiasm. I really, really do, but I- I’m not at a place where I wanna go public.

RAPUNZEL: Which is why I’ve come up with an itinerary of private activities for us.

CASS: [sighing] But we really aren’t that serious yet.

RAPUNZEL: No problem! We’ll keep it short and sweet, then!

cass is withholding some information here—but it’s information that really needs to be withheld. state secrets and intrigue on this level is not something you go around casually telling your friend, especially if that friend has a history of revealing important secrets. 

that issue aside, though, cass is once again very straightforward here. she doesn’t want to go on a double date. she doesn’t want her relationship with andrew to be made public, because it isn’t serious. but every time cass draws a line, rapunzel modifies her proposal to “accommodate” the reason cass gives for saying no (don’t want to go public? that’s fine, we’ll do private activities. you’re not that serious yet? okay, we’ll only do a few casual things) instead of just accepting the no, until cass relents.

it’s also worth noting that when cass relents, she agrees to dinner—but rapunzel acts like she’s agreed to everything on the itinerary, plus a hot air balloon ride. when cass says “This double date needs to end now,” and “As soon as the balloon touches down, I’d like to be alone with [Andrew],” Rapunzel tries to protest: “But we haven’t even gotten to the tandem horseback ride yet.” 

and finally, after all this, when rapunzel interrupts, putting both herself and cass in serious danger and enabling andrew to get away with the journal, cassandra has no problem telling rapunzel how she feels: 

CASS: You know, after the exposition debacle, this was my big chance to prove to my Dad I have what it takes to be a guard. But you messed that all up, Rapunzel!

RAPUNZEL: Well, ugh, maybe if you had told me what you were planning, I wouldn’t have messed it up!

CASS: I couldn’t count on you not letting anything slip!

RAPUNZEL: Hey! I can keep things to myself!

CASS: Oh, yeah? Kinda like when you told Eugene about the night we snuck out? 

RAPUNZEL: How did you know about—

CASS: Or when you told your Dad about those rocks I showed you?!

RAPUNZEL: I had to! He was gonna—

CASS: And how’d your mom find out who ate her last chocolate truffle? Hm?

RAPUNZEL: I turned myself in! The guilt was just—

CASS: Look, Raps, you’re my best friend. But you’re a sharer. It’s in your nature. And I’m fine with that, but you’ll have to be fine with respecting things I want to keep to myself. 

RAPUNZEL: Even if those things have life-threatening consequences?

CASS: Okay, in my defense, no one’s life was really threatened until you showed up. 

RAPUNZEL: ...You’re right. Alright, tell you what, let’s make a deal. I’ll understand you keeping some things to yourself, if you understand that when something’s bothering you, I’m gonna want to help. You’ve got my back, so let me have yours.

CASS: I suppose I can live with that.

notice... three things here. 

first, not only does rapunzel not apologize, she blames cassandra for her own behavior. cass should have just told her everything from the get go—then she wouldn’t have needed to push, pester, and spy on cassandra to figure out what was going on and she wouldn’t have burst in and ruined the delicate sting operation cassandra was handling. in rapunzel’s mind, the problem isn’t that she didn’t respect cass’s clearly stated boundaries—the problem is that cass didn’t tell her every single detail about why she had those boundaries. 

second, cass explains exactly why she wasn’t forthcoming: rapunzel has an established pattern of spilling important secrets, including important secrets, including secrets that cass expressly asked her not to share with anyone. cassandra didn’t just arbitrarily decide to keep the truth of her “relationship” with andrew a secret—she made a reasonable decision based on her estimation of rapunzel’s ability to keep her mouth shut. an estimation informed by rapunzel’s past behavior. 

and third, rapunzel offers cass a “deal” that boils down to, “i’ll accept that you have boundaries if you accept that i am going to push them.” (she phrases this in a nice way, but based on her behavior in this episode and in future episodes, it is clear that by “help” and “have your back,” rapunzel doesn’t mean “i will back off if you tell me to back off, but i’m always willing to lend a hand if you ask.”) and cass accepts this. 

and... that’s pretty much where the girls stand for the rest of s1-s2. big brothers of corona and to a lesser extent freebird are other episodes where cass lays down a boundary and rapunzel disregards it either in the name of “helping” or because it’s about something she just really, really wants to do. and cass continues to get frustrated and have angry outbursts in response to this behavior, but it never, ever changes.

[i have mentioned this before but the argument that cassandra is a bad friend to rapunzel in s1-s2 because of how “mean” she is, how “cranky,” how she “snaps” or “yells” at rapunzel, or “bullies” her, etc—what this argument ignores is the fact that, with the exception of the time in BEA when she’s panicking over real danger, cass always leads with soft boundaries or polite refusals, escalates to harder, blunter statements when rapunzel ignores her, and snaps/yells/gets angry in response to rapunzel transgressing those more firmly-stated boundaries. cass is not the aggressor in these situations.]

#2: rapunzel can’t or won’t see the power she has over cass.

this disregard for cassandra’s boundaries would be a huge problem on its own, but it’s compounded by another: cassandra is rapunzel’s servant. rapunzel is cassandra’s boss. and not only is rapunzel cassandra’s boss, she’s also the princess of corona. she is a queen-in-training.

their friendship does not, and can not, exist on level ground, because rapunzel has a HUGE degree of authority over cassandra’s life, and at the end of the day... if rapunzel wants them to do something, cassandra can’t say no. her choices are “do what rapunzel says” or “refuse direct orders from the princess of corona.” cassandra is well aware of this—painfully so, at times—and rapunzel is not.

let’s talk about rapunzel and the great tree. 

context: cass had her lifelong dream of joining the royal guard within her grasp at the end of s1. she had just commanded a successful battle against an army of automatons and played a key role in rescuing the queen from her kidnapper. had she chosen to stay in corona, she could have gotten everything she ever wanted. 

instead, she chose to accompany rapunzel on her quest into unknown territory, and the king himself charged her with keeping rapunzel safe during the journey. she takes this duty as seriously as able, but she is undermined constantly and her efforts to steer the group away from dangerous, unnecessary detours are, without exception, ignored. and, because the rest of the group is composed of adventurous people less risk-averse than cass is (and without the burden of responsibility for rapunzel’s safety weighing on their shoulders), cass becomes the group naysayer, the joyless stick-in-the-mud trying to ruin their fun. even rapunzel starts to see her that way, brushing off cass’s concern for her safety at the beginning of RATGT.

this is not a nice position to be in. on top of the boundary problem that has been present since s1, cass is now under a lot of pressure, her friends aren’t treating her very well, and she’s stressed out and unhappy.

RATGT is when all of this comes to a head. adira—whom cass feels, not without merit, has supplanted her as the protector of the group, as rapunzel’s confidant, and as the voice of reason—tells them they must go through the great tree, even though a dangerous enemy (one who already almost killed them, and one whom adira has just admitted she was once affiliated with) lives inside it. cassandra says this sounds like a bad idea to her, and once again, rapunzel overrules her advice.

they enter the tree. adira reveals that the tree once belonged to zhan tiri, and although she assures them the tree is harmless, they still end up in mortal peril twice: first because of the withering incantation, and second because of the giant carnivorous flower that tries to eat eugene, lance, pascal, and maximus. they press on, and after an exhausting hike, they make it to the top of the great tree. adira suggests they camp for the night, cass says no way, that’s a terrible idea. and... well: 

RAPUNZEL: Cass... We could use the rest.

CASS: Rapunzel, this place almost got us killed an hour ago. 

ADIRA: And thankfully, I was there to prevent it.

CASS: You stay out of this, Adira!

ADIRA: I think you should calm down.

CASS: You know what I think? I think you’re playing us. I think you led us here on purpose, and for some sick reason, you wanted Rapunzel to find that incantation and read it.

RAPUNZEL: Come on, Cass, listen to yourself—

CASS: Rapunzel, I’m telling you right now, we need to get out of this tree, but more importantly, we need to lose Adira before she gets us all killed.

RAPUNZEL: I can’t do that, Cass.

CASS: What do you mean you ‘can’t do that’? Of course you can! Are you that obliviously naive that you can’t see—

RAPUNZEL: ENOUGH, Cassandra! No one is getting rid of anyone! Is that clear?

CASS: ...Yes, Your Highness. I’ll keep first watch.

now... this is absolutely not cassandra’s finest moment. she’s upset and acting paranoid and yelling at adira because she’s exhausted, she was drained by the withering incantation an hour ago, and this is six months of frustration and unhappiness all coming to a boil at the worst possible moment. and this is not rapunzel’s finest moment either, because she’s also exhausted and stressed and reacting emotionally to cass’s outburst. neither of them behave well in this argument.

but the key thing to takeaway here is not that they’re both acting irrational and distraught, but that this is the moment when the other shoe drops.

rapunzel is a princess who grew up powerless. not only is she unaccustomed to wielding power, she barely grasps that she has it at all. and while cassandra, her servant, is keenly aware of the class chasm between herself and rapunzel, rapunzel’s ignorance of it—or at least, willingness to ignore it—enabled them to become close friends. it gave cass a level of comfort with rapunzel, and once they were outside of corona, those boundaries got fuzzier.

until rapunzel pulls rank during this argument. 

when rapunzel screams “ENOUGH, Cassandra!” the whole group is visibly shocked and uncomfortable. lance even grimaces. cassandra lets go of rapunzel’s arm and retreats like she’s been stung. no one says anything, no one steps up to defend her—not because she’s in the wrong, but because she crossed the line and directly challenged rapunzel’s authority. and she can’t do that, because rapunzel is the princess, and cass is her servant. and rapunzel is willing to use that authority to shut her down.

that is what makes this moment so painful for cass. when push came to shove, rapunzel treated her like a servant, not a friend. 

but rapunzel... doesn’t understand this. she’s confused about why cass got upset and why cass reacted the way she did during the argument. so when she goes to try to patch things up, she doesn’t actually apologize, and she completely misses the core of why cass is hurt: 

RAPUNZEL: So... Earlier. That got awkward, huh?

CASS: Huh. Which part?

RAPUNZEL: I know it’s been an unusual day...

CASS: You know it’s not just about Adira, right? I mean, she’s a jerk, and I can’t stand her, but it’s just... Since when did you stop trusting my judgment?

RAPUNZEL: Cass. You are the closest thing that I will ever have to a big sister, but I’m not that naive girl fresh out of the tower anymore. I am going to be queen someday, and I can promise you I’m going to make decisions that you’re going to disagree with. And I need you to be okay with that. ...Well... I better get some rest. I’m on the next shift.

rapunzel doesn’t just not apologize for pulling rank while shouting cass down in front of their friends. she tells cass i am the queen, i will make decisions you don’t like, you need to be okay with that. and i think it’s worth noting that this is how cass reacts: 

cass sort of slumps while rapunzel is talking, but when rapunzel says “I need you to be okay with that,” cassandra pulls herself up, squeezes her eyes shut, and takes a deep breath. and then she makes herself smile.

it’s not a happy smile. it’s not a cheered-up, feeling-better smile. this is the smile of a woman who just opened up to her best friend about one of her deepest insecurities and got told that her feelings don’t matter, her friend is the queen and she just needs to deal with it. so that’s what cass is doing here: she’s sucking it up and dealing with it.

is this the message rapunzel wanted to send? no. but what rapunzel doesn’t get is that her friendship with cass doesn’t exist separately from her relationship with cass as a queen to her servant. any pretense that it could shattered the instant she pulled rank. so while rapunzel is trying to speak as one friend to another here, cassandra responds as a servant.

and now let’s talk about rapunzel: day one. 

cass, of course, gets burnt in the great tree, but that in and of itself doesn’t have anything to do with the question of whether this friendship is toxic or not. the only thing to bear in mind is that, while using the incantation during the battle in the great tree, rapunzel says two things to cassandra: “I got this, Cass, go!” and: “I can’t... control it!” 

this is important because, in RDO, rapunzel only remembers (or acknowledges) the first of those statements. it’s possible that she genuinely forgot admitting she couldn’t break herself out of the incantation, and it’s possible that she’s selectively choosing to focus on telling cass that she was fine and to get out of the tree as a way of alleviating the guilt she feels. which one is not really important. what is important is this: 

rapunzel blames cass for getting injured in the great tree.

in fact, she’s is angry at cassandra for getting injured in the great tree.

RAPUNZEL: I get why Cass is mad at me. She told me not to use the decay spell back at the Great Tree, and I did, and she hurt her hand. But if she had just listened to me and stayed out of it, this all could have been avoided! And I feel like we could work things out, but she refuses to talk about it! [...] I’ve gotta find a way to get her to talk to me.

and

RAPUNZEL: It’s okay if you’re mad at me. I’m mad at you too. I told you that I had it under control, and you didn’t listen. 

so... this is the dynamic at play here. 

first, rapunzel constantly disregards cassandra’s boundaries in general. cass knows this. 

second, rapunzel insists that it’s all cassandra’s fault that she got injured, because rapunzel either doesn’t remember or won’t acknowledge that her saying “I can’t control it” is what prompted cassandra to grab her. 

third, immediately before cass was injured, rapunzel pulled rank to shut cassandra down in an argument, shouting at and humiliating her in front of their friends. a few minutes later, when cass opened up about her hurt feelings and insecurities, rapunzel reiterated that she is in charge, and cass just needs to “be okay” with that. 

and fourth, rapunzel is making cassandra’s pain—her physical pain, and her hurt and angry feelings about having been horrifically injured by her best friend—all about rapunzel. rapunzel wants to talk things out so everything can be okay again and she can stop feeling guilty about what she did to cass, and the fact that cass isn’t ready to talk about it doesn’t matter because rapunzel wants to talk about it NOW.

[sidebar: “We can’t just push this aside and forget it like it never happened!” lmao season three would like to have a word with you.]

what... exactly is cass supposed to do here? 

if she says she doesn’t want to talk about it, rapunzel will pester and prod and wheedle her until she snaps. if she gives rapunzel the cold shoulder, as it’s implied she’s been doing, rapunzel will manufacture a situation where it’s just the two of them alone together so she can back cass into a corner and make her talk about it. if she does what rapunzel told her to do—i.e., be okay with decisions rapunzel makes as queen—by saying things like “Look, if you feel that way, then it’s fine. We’re good,” rapunzel will refuse to accept that and continue to bug her.

and if rapunzel, her boss, the princess, has decided that the fault for cass’s injury lies on cassandra’s shoulders... and if the last time cass opened up about her feelings with rapunzel, rapunzel effectively told her to just deal with it... why would cass want to subject herself to this conversation?

she literally does not have a single good option here. every choice available to her sucks.

i think this is why we don’t hear rapunzel apologize at the end of RDO; why the resolution is cass saying “i’m still angry, but i’ll get over it.” she’s still doing what rapunzel told her to do in the great tree: trying her best to suck up her feelings and be okay with rapunzel’s decision.

i don’t think cass is lying at the end of RDO. she really does feel sorry for using the wand, she really does intend to get over her anger. but i also think she is holding a lot of stuff back because she no longer feels safe expressing her true feelings around rapunzel. this is not s1 cass, who was comfortable spontaneously expressing and explaining her boundaries and frustration and pain to rapunzel. this is a cass who has learned that her feelings don’t matter to rapunzel, not really. that rapunzel is more invested in “getting along” than in actually making sure cassandra feels better. 

so she turtles up and toes that line as much as she is able. 

and that is where the toxicity in their friendship comes from. 

rapunzel means well. god bless her, she really, truly does. and she really, truly loves cass with all her heart. all she wants is for cassandra to be happy. absolutely none of her behavior towards cass is malicious or intentionally cruel.

but she is a nineteen year old who was raised by an abusive, narcissistic kidnapper and was then, less than a week after escaping that environment, dumped into a position of enormous authority with zero preparation. she doesn’t know how to have healthy relationships. her relationship with eugene is healthy because eugene is an easy-going, well-adjusted guy who is on equal footing with her and who doesn’t have any qualms about letting her in on his private thoughts or feelings and who is both willing and able to gently help her correct course when she inadvertently veers into yikes territory. 

but cassandra has baggage and the hard personal boundaries that come with it. and cassandra is rapunzel’s servant, with all the restriction and limits that implies. for rapunzel, trying to be cassandra’s friend is like trying to climb a mountain when she’s just barely learnt how to crawl. she has no fucking clue what she’s doing and she is not equipped to handle it.

i think cassandra gets this, and that’s why she gives rapunzel so many chances, why in s1 she tries so hard to help rapunzel understand where she’s coming from. but it doesn’t get better—in fact, it gets worse. (a lifetime of behaviors absorbed from your abusive “mother” do not disappear in a year’s time.) and it destroys cassandra’s mental health, makes her miserable, leads her to repress her feelings more and more throughout the tail end of s2, and leaves her wide open for zhan tiri to take advantage of in the shell house. 

at the same time, the very fact that none of this is intentional or malicious on rapunzel’s part means that this is a relationship that can be repaired. rapunzel understands cass a lot better in s3, and she’s made huge strides in healing from gothel’s abuse. the whole moonstone/zhan tiri debacle ends up being a giant reset button on their relationship: they still love each other deeply, but they’re effectively starting over from scratch, and they’ll be taking it slowly by dint of cassandra leaving corona. their only contact will be via letters for the foreseeable future, which will (a) give cass time to get her head on straight and figure out what she wants to do with her life, which she desperately needs, and (b) give rapunzel some much-needed practice in being patient, not prying, not letting her nosiness lead her to step on cassandra’s boundaries, etc. and in leaving corona, cass also left her servitude to rapunzel, so they can finally approach each other on an equal footing. 

[system-of-a-feather]

Hi I'm also a Riku fictive and I've been main fronter for a couple years! My partner is Sora and he has like, a system within his system. Like, he has Ven, Roxas, Xion, and Vanitas in his heart completely separate from the rest of that body's headspace. Sometimes they front through him. I figured you would find it interesting

“ I’m a Kingdom Hearts Fictive I’m like sure anyone who knows Kingdom Hearts and follows this blog probably knew that but I’ve been dodgey about it cause I feel weird being seen more as a fictive / introject than I do a person since I consider myself decently grown past my source. It makes me feel oddly objectified outside of my pre-existing friends. ((So please don’t send me asks directly referencing Kingdom Hearts)) “

I literally put that in the very beginning of my post because I very very much do not like being seen first as a fictive and only like people I know personally and closely to pay much attention to that nature since it makes me very very uncomfortable to be primarily conversed with / interacted with / acknowledged under the pretenses that I am a fictive from a popular series and am a popular character of that. 

No I am not ashamed to be a fictive and with a very limited few, I do enjoy talking about psuedomemories and emotions and my relationships with my source HOWEVER I very strongly dislike people coming to me commenting on the fact that I am a Riku fictive since it makes me feel objectified, as if they have pre-existing expectations, and lesses me as an individual unique person / alter apart from my source. I have mostly outgrown my attachment to my source and have it more as a comfort that I prefer to leave restricted to myself, my system, and close individuals that I know care / are interested about me for more than my source.

I do not find any of this interesting because I 1) dislike sourcecalls / cannon calls (my opinion, not to invalidate other fictive’s opinions) 2) have absolutely no interest in meeting anyone from my source and would even go so far as to say I am very wary about meeting anyone from my source and 3) have no real reason to correlate or relate since I am the host of the system first and a fictive second. Just because we are introjected from the same source means little to me.

I do not want to be interacted about my source.

I do not want to have any assumptions about me because of my source.

I do not want people to interact with me seeking out relationships because of my source.

It is those three principles that kept me silent about being a fictive and the three reasons I had NEVER mentioned directly I was from Kingdom Hearts since I knew someone would just read “RIKU FICTIVE?! RIKU FICTIVE?! OH I WANNA MESSAGE A RIKU FICTIVE” and not read anything else. There was a reason that was at the VERY TOP of my post. 

I was *hoping* I could be honest about my source for one moment and not be objectified for it, but apparently not. It is part of the fictive culture that is on tumblr that I personally find very uncomfortable because a lot of people assume that all fictives want to interact and know others and don’t bother to question if asking about someone’s very personal way of coping with trauma and bonding over it is something that all fictives want. If some people do, I respect that, but personally? I don’t and I would really like if that was respected and not assumed.

Also, the thing that does bother me is considering some of those people I “knew” myself, what is the point in telling me you “know and are dating” people that are versions / alternate introjects of people that I held very dear to myself? Laugh about it and find it cool? Be like “Oh cool relatable?” because no. I’m not.

[TW: Psuedomemories / False Memories]

I am personally offended a bit since this felt a lot like a bit of a joke / like being a fictive is some fun identity and something fun to indulge in and similar. If it is for you, I’m not going to judge, but I really do not find it fun to think about meeting “sourcemates” or anything since I personally know none of them are actually going to be the person I knew because quite personally, the people I knew never existed. 

I have personally blocked every cannon call / source call / fictive call that is in the tags due to a mix of personal very bad experiences with them and it being a source of bad memories and also due to my fundamental discomfort with them.

Again though, this is my relationship with being a fictive and my form of coping and healing - it does not apply or define anyone elses. This is how I relate to my fictive source nature and how I cope with the psuedomemories.

It bothers me quite a bit and would fuck with my head a lot of if I actually indulged the idea that maybe the people I cared immensely for somehow made it here as well. It would be a problem to my understanding of reality and as a result, I intentionally do not cling too heavily or interact much with people that identify with my source. It is not healthy for me. 

IF it helps you, it helps you, but seeing someone try to drag me into interacting with people with source and framing it as a good thing when I specifically requested not to, is extremely rude, annoying, and inconsiderate.

[TW END : Psuedomemories / False Memories]

Also I’m sure you didn’t mean harm. I’m sure you genuinely thought this would be interesting or something similar. I’m hoping - with the benefit of the doubt - you genuinely didn’t read / notice the first paragraph on that post. I’m sorry if I am being excessively harsh but I had stressed about stating my source for a year or so since I’ve been on here - I considered even changing my name to avoid posts like this - and to have the first time I mention it thinking that I’m just over exaggerating it - to be met with exactly what I didn’t want is quite frustrating.

I also felt the need to post a few things about my relationship with being a fictive that I’ve held back on because if I am already out there, I am already out there.

Please, I won’t hold grudges, but please next time respect people’s boundaries and do not assume that they are interested / comfortable with the same things you are and please read the full post.

-Riku (Host)

[emikochan]

Yandere Nyo Norway with a closeted fem s/o?

Anon asked for SFW headcanons and NSFW headcanons btw🌸

Let's go!

~~~~~~~~~

General Headcanons:

• prepare to go hiking and skiing

• Ingrid loves skiing a tad more though

• never beats around the bush

• you wanna go out and she doesn't like it? She's giving you a blunt "No" and you have to listen. Simple as that

• always kinda looms over your shoulder

• scares and tells everyone off, who she deems too close to you for her liking

• will use magic to keep you with her if nessecary

• tries to be less intimidating by smiling around you, making sweets and bringing up past adventures from your relationship.

• "Hey, do you remember how we went sailing one day and totally got lost? That was funny, right?"

• doesn't see anything wrong with how she acts

• she's not controlling, she's protective.

~♡~

NSFW Headcanons:

• I can't stress enough how beautiful Ingrid is

• the most beautiful of the nordics, no doubt.

• not big in the PDA department but when she wants something from you once in a blue moon, you better be nice and give it to her.

• she'd never seriously harm you though

• her libido ain't that high, so you're lucky

• she will force you to look at her when you shy away too much for her liking

• it's rare for her to want a kiss so you have little reason to complain when she wants one for once, just do it

• got delicate hands but her grip is deadly

• loves messing with you in the bedroom when she gets horny on some occasions

• when she's in the mood, she's a big fan of orgasm denial and often uses it on you. That feeling of control is turning her on big time

• ties you up with silk scarfs, she loves you too much to use leather

• loves breathing in your scent, Ingrid spends the time she's on top of you with her nose buried in either your hair or neck. It's intoxicating for her.

• no spot on your body is safe from her once she got you tied up beneath her

• loves leaving hickeys

• got the softest kisses too, they are as delicate as the wings of a butterfly and you enjoy them way too much

• prefers receiving oral over giving

• she loves having you cuddled up to her after you two made love, you just look so cute and vulnerable

• expect a few weeks, months inbetween those steamy sessions

• won't allow you to masturbate because you're her's, duh? Isn't she all you need?

• really makes you beg for release but Ingrid being the manipulative and kinda sadistic ass she is, takes pleasure in watching you beg for her.

• it honestly amuses her too

~~ Scenario because the idea struck me while I was eating my Tortilla~~

"Come on, one more time."

The soft melody of the piano didn't make your heart flutter like it used to, you heard the tune too many times now to enjoy it any longer.

Ingrid noticed your discomfort and lifted her pale, long fingers from the keys.

She frowned, but not because she was upset with you; it was rather her being lost in thoughts on why you looked so solemn the past few days.

Her throwing out some good tunes always had you singing and put you in a good mood but lately she noticed that you stopped breaking out in song, even if she played your favourite duets.

"How about this one?" she raised a brow and started playing the first notes of a romantic duet, that made your heart ache every time and your eyes sparkle like the norwegian sea during a clear day

You didn't even look up.

Ingrid sighed and positioned herself so that she could face you properly.

"Why are you sad, skatt? What do you want me to do to make you smile again?"

"Let me go." you whispered.

"There's a pandemic outside-"

"Yes, but the lockdown is over. It's been over for weeks and you go outside, so why can't I?"

"You're funny."

"I saw people outside! The news said it's ok to go and I'm not sick!"

"The media lies, darling. You're better off staying in here with me."

You had enough. The first weeks were fine but your girlfriend kept you longer than it was necessary and you were desperate to leave the walls that seemed to close in on you with each passing minute, take walks through the fields or maybe get in line for some ice cream in Oslo . You just wanted to leave and have some fresh air, so you stormed to the front door, only to find it locked.

"(y/n) stop." her voice was stern as she watched you go the the window. "You'll get yourself hurt, stop acting ridiculous."

As soon as you touched the handle, a shock went through your body, shaking your insides and bolting throughout your whole fragile form. With wide eyes and hitched breathing you couldn't rip yourself from the electric shock until it ceased on it's own and had you tumbling to the floor.

Your shaking hand clasped your chest, trying to calm down the irregular beating heart but the damage was done and you felt cold sweat running down from your forehead.

"Tch, what did I tell you?"

A cold hand with slender fingers was placed on your shoulder and you heard Ingrids calming voice behind you.

"Don't worry, it's not enough to kill you but you might want to sit down with me for a while." she honestly couldn't hold back the content she felt while saying that and you cursed her in your head for ever doing something like this to you. She smiled softly while she carried you back to the living room.

"How could you..." you asked with venom and betrayal clearly dripping in your voice. You loved that woman and she knowingly electrocuted you just a few seconds ago.

"Hate me all you want but this is for your own good." she explained and took her seat at the piano. She had this tone in her voice, as if she was a mother explaining something obvious to her kid and it threw you off even more.

She stretched her hands and placed them back on the keys once again.

"Now, let's try this again, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~

( The pic belongs to Tsunaori. Thanks to the kind person in the comments, who pointed it out for me🌸)

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 50)

Beaver Hollow

On the move once again. Dude... 50 chapters!! 😮 Thanks to everyone who’s stuck with me!

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Much to my disdain, I was bedridden. The burns on my leg were placed as such that bending my leg and doing any more than hobbling outside to pee (a nightmare task) was out of the question. They were also extremely painful, but I tried not to go on about it, I did my best to ignore it and pretend it wasn't the case. Susan was on at me constantly to rest it, telling me I would only make the healing process worse if I kept bursting blisters and tearing fragile skin as it tried to heal back. She was right, obviously, but I hated not doing anything. 

There were only so many chores I could do from the bed, mostly sewing, and after two days of that, nobody had anything that needed repairing. I'd started taking commissions of sorts; in other words, I made people bring me things to draw for them. They'd get a drawing, and I'd get half an hour or so of entertainment, it was a pretty good deal. I drew Javier's hat, Strauss' spare spectacles, Arthur's boots, a ladle that Pearson gave to me and then later apparently went mad trying to find, and a flower that Tilly picked. 

Jack was my most eager customer, though. He kept on bringing me things, cool looking rocks, a 'snake' he'd made out of compacted mud on a plate (I had to ask him what I was looking at, momentarily concerned he'd brought me a gift from Cain), and a small wooden horse that apparently Sean had carved for him once upon a time. I drew them all, even the more questionable items, because he smiled like a little angel every time I handed him a finished drawing. It was definitely a welcome distraction from the discomfort I was near-constantly in.

I was finishing up a drawing of a character from one of his books when Abigail came in. 

"I thought I'd find him in here," she smiled when she entered, "he ain't bothering you, is he?" 

"Of course not! I love having him around," I grinned, "he's a good boy, ain't you?" 

Jack gave me a toothy smile and nodded. 

"As long as he's behaving himself," Abigail chuckled, then took a seat on the edge of the bed by my feet. "But I, uh, I'd like a word, if that's okay?"

"With me?" My brows raised a little, and she nodded. "Sure, I ain't going anywhere soon," I snorted.

"Alright Jack, why don't you go see if Susan can find you a little job to help her with, hm?"

"I don't like doing jobs," he sulked, fiddling with the corner of the page of the sketchbook on my lap. 

"Nobody does, but I need you to keep on being a good boy, come on," she breathed, putting her hand on the top of his head and directing him towards the door. "You can come back later, okay?" 

"Okay," he grumbled, though did as he was told. 

"I love you," Abigail called after him with a certain look in her eye. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she watched him leave.

"Everything okay?" I asked. It took her a moment to look at me again. 

"Sure. Arthur and Sadie are looking into how they can break John out today."

My heart thudded. "They are?"

"He never told you?"

"He said he had things to do today, didn't go into much detail. What're they doing?" I asked, mildly concerned. 

"I ain't sure. They promised me they'd get him back, Sadie said she had an idea to check things out over at Sisika. They ain't breaking him out just yet, but they're doing a hell of a lot more than Dutch is," she released a sigh and shook her head. 

"John will be back soon. You ain't gotta worry with Sadie and Arthur working on it," I reassured her. 

"I know, just feels like so long since..." she trailed off a little glumly, her head bowed and her eyes landed on my bandaged leg. "I'm sorry, how're you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Susan changed the dressing this morning and so far so good. Now that it's had a little time to calm down it don't look too bad," I explained and she nodded slowly. "Still hurts, but not like the first night."

"That was real scary," she closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them to look at me with a crinkled brow. "We have to move soon. Everyone's started packing up, we just gotta sort a new camp. That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah?"

"Are you coming with us? I heard Dutch saying something about sending you off to someplace else while your leg heals."

"He was talking out'a where the sun don't shine. It was discussed, but I ain't leaving unless Arthur's coming with me. I don't think Dutch'd be too happy about that, though."

"Well I thought you should know Micah's been whispering in his ear," she muttered rolling his eyes, "he don't like to see weakness in the gang. Said we don't need to be carrying around another invalid." 

"Invalid? Soon as I'm out of this bed I'll be back to normal, I don't wanna be lying around on my ass all day!" 

"I told him where he can shove his opinion, and Arthur would never let the gang cut you loose. And like you said, Dutch don't wanna lose Arthur. You ain't going anywhere. Unless– what was Arthur going on about, you and him getting away together?" She cocked a brow a little.

"When?" I frowned.

"When you got burned, he was saying all these things–"

"You heard that? Right. I know he was," I cut her off, turning my eyes to the ceiling, I hadn't even realised that Abigail was around then, "he was just worried and stressed, we ain't leaving any time soon." 

"You don't sound very happy about that."

"Of course I ain't. I wanted to be long gone before Arthur even ended up in Guarma! But that don't mean I'm gonna make him leave. I know the timing ain't right." 

"But you do want to leave with him?"

"Yes," I breathed, closing my eyes. "Before I lose him." 

"You never mentioned this before," she noted. 

"It hurt to talk about, while he was gone," I admitted. 

"Well, I bet you're relieved, at least. Now you've got your boy back in your sight?" She mused. I nodded firmly.

"Real relieved. I'm so thankful… he was so lucky, I was lucky. I really was starting to lose it for a while."

"Well, maybe now the timing ain't right for you pair to go off and start a life together, but it will be one day. For now, I get it. Lord knows I don't wanna be here forever. Maybe when John gets out we can… I don't know. I just want us three to be a family."

"You will be, Abigail," I reached over and patted her knee. 

"If Arthur knows what's good for him," she looked up suddenly, "he'll leave all this behind too. There's been too many close calls and Dutch has been... well, he don't seem to care too much about John being behind bars, or marching towards the gallows. Once upon a time he'd be racing to do something about it."

"You think he's changed?"

"I don't know," she frowned deeply, "I love Dutch, I do, but I'm just frustrated. And a little scared, too. Hosea used to always be at his side and I trusted him to steer his judgement just enough to– sometimes Dutch's ideas are a little theatrical. I don't doubt they'd probably work but Hosea kept Dutch's feet on the ground. It was better for us all that way. I don't know how to say it, I guess."

"He provided wisdom and rationale while Dutch provided passion and charisma," I murmured, "that was always the impression I got."

"Yeah, I guess that's it," she sighed heavily. "Maybe if Hosea was still here, he'd be convincing Dutch to help with getting John back."

"I'm really sorry, Abigail. You must miss him."

"I don't like admitting it, but I do. Jack needs his father and I need–" she stopped, then realised something. "Oh, did you mean Hosea?"

"I did. But you can say whatever you need to."

"I'm just… I'm ready to have him back now. I don't like all this," she sighed, the corners of her mouth turning down and twitching. 

"No, I know. Ain't gonna be for long, I'm sure," I told her softly. 

"Hey, if you're lookin' for something else to draw in that book of yours, draw John's dumb face for me, won't you?" She smiled a little and I chuckled. 

"Sure, I'll try," I beamed at her. 

-

Arthur had come back from scoping out Sisika, full of reassurance for Abigail that they'd seen John and he was alive and well, working the fields. He hadn't mentioned it to Dutch, he told me, there was a strange air about him when he spoke about what he and Sadie had done. He never spoke at his regular volume, looked edgy, like a child plotting something he knew he shouldn't be doing. I couldn't quite believe that Dutch would have something negative to say about them going off to save one of our own. But then again, his behaviour had been particularly odd lately. 

Arthur had collapsed into sleep not long after telling me tales of hot air balloons and O'Driscolls, stories that sounded like they should be written in a story book and not coming from the experience of the man I loved. It terrified me. He'd scoped out the prison in a damn hot air balloon. He'd flown. I wanted to cry, even if Arthur acted like it was all in a day's work, and even if he spent more time describing the view of the world from miles up in the air, than he did the feeling of coming crashing back down. This was going to get him killed, I'd said, why aren't you telling Dutch and putting a team together? But he was sleeping. His head nestled into my chest and his body half laying on mine, on my good side, careful not to disturb my injured leg. I let him get his rest. 

It wasn't long before we were on the move again. It was the next afternoon that Arthur left with Charles to sort out our new home. Murfree Brood territory, up in Roanoke, apparently. I remembered the gang's hesitance to head up there after the bank job, it turned out we just needed to work up our nerve by dealing with the Night Folk in the bayou before moving onto the even sicker, even more brutal folk up on the Ridge. We'd only had one minor incident in the bayou. Lenny had encountered a couple of Night Folk skulking around a little way away from Lakay, right on the edge of our camp. They hadn't harmed him, hadn't even tried to. It seemed as though they were just checking the place out, but Lenny threatened them, we upped security, and we didn't see them again.

Miss Grimshaw came into the room I'd resided in since the night of the shoot out, flanked by Micah and Bill.

"How's that leg feelin'?" She asked as the men hung back. Bill stood awkwardly in the doorway while Micah strolled in, leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms, watching me from across the room. I was a little surprised to suddenly have them all there. 

"It's fine, I've been keeping still just like you told me to," I told her, glancing at the men before looking back at Susan. 

"Well, now I have to retract that order, we're moving. I roped these strapping fellers in to help you out onto the wagon we've got waiting for you outside," she said, glancing over her shoulder at them briefly, "you reckon you can move?"

"I don't have much of a choice," I laughed a little anxiously, "but I'll be glad to see something other than this room." 

"Alright then, you ready to move now? We don't got much time," Susan was a little short with me and sounded stressed. I didn't blame her. Moving was never a fun task. I nodded, and she nodded back, turning to leave briskly.

"Very well, be careful with her, boys. Make sure she doesn't bend that leg too much."

Micah and Bill approached me and I sat up, moving to scoot to the edge of the bed while keeping my bad leg outstretched. Micah let out an audible sigh and I kept my eyes firmly on the floor as they surrounded me, reaching for me a number of times without actually lifting me, trying to figure out how to approach it. 

"What if I lift her legs and you carry her by her arms?" Bill suggested. 

"Why don't we roll her up in a carpet while we're at it? She ain't a corpse just yet, Williamson," Micah hissed. 

"Well, I don't know! I never volunteered for this."

"Neither did I!"

"I'd walk if I could! I don't wanna be a burden, you know," I snapped at them.

"How do you want it, ma'am? Want me to carry you bridal style while Bill tosses rose petals?" Micah suggested, bending his knees to come down to my level condescendingly.

"Just lower me onto my stomach and I'll drag myself if it's too much of a hassle just to put my arms over your shoulders and walk me out there," I deadpanned. 

There was a pause, then Bill moved forward, taking my arm and hooking it around his shoulders. We both looked at Micah expectantly, and after making us wait for a few seconds, he did the same. They lifted me up and carried me out of the building, the camp was filled with people bustling about loading our things up onto the wagons, one wagon was waiting for me with a blanket draped on the bottom, a nice little spot to sit. I pressed my lips together as the blood rushed down my legs, the first time I'd stood upright since it happened, the area feeling full and tense and sore. I kept my foot lifted, trying my hardest not to move my leg too much and pull on the delicate, healing wounds.

We reached the wagon and Bill and Micah turned me, easing me up onto the back of it, sitting me down on the edge. I gasped as I bent my leg too far, and Bill caught it in his hands, lifting it up for me as I shuffled back with my arms and my good leg. By the time I was settled I was breathless, despite barely moving with my own strength.

"Thank you," I breathed, and Bill waved a hand dismissively.

"You alright?" He asked in that gruff voice of his.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I nodded. 

"You just take it easy there, don't want you straining yourself," Micah said, though the sneer with which he spoke told me he wasn't being kind. I hummed my acknowledgement but otherwise didn't respond. The two men turned and left me there, and I heard Micah muttering something about dumping me in a hotel somewhere instead of carting me around, to which Bill grumbled at him to give it a rest. 

It did make me wonder how the gang would behave if Micah found himself in a position of needing to be cared for. If he was put to bed rest for a week or two, and we had to wait on him until he was better. Would anyone complain as much as him about the weak links in the gang? I'd heard the way Micah spoke about the likes of Reverend Swanson or Uncle, and even the women, about how they didn't contribute enough and were dead weights. He didn't seem to hold much compassion, if any. But who would complain if it was him in need? Probably no one. Everyone else just got on with things, did what needed doing, helped who needed helping. I wondered how Micah would feel in that situation. Guilty? Unlikely. 

With a sigh I leaned my head back against the edge of the wagon and closed my eyes, waiting for everyone to finish packing away our things, feeling useless the entire time. I didn't enjoy being immobile. Sure, I could probably force myself to stand and do things, but I knew that it would hurt and Susan would be on my case quicker than vultures on a corpse.

It was times like these that I realised how much I needed work to ground me. How much I relied on it to give my life structure and purpose, to give me focus. Without it, or with the limited amount I was doing, the days dragged on and gave me too much time alone with my thoughts. And these days my thoughts weren't always friendly, especially when Arthur wasn't with me. When he was out working I had a constant seed of anxiety in the back of my mind, growing and sprouting into every corner of myself, building and building until he walked back into view, and the worry subsided. I'd felt it when he was out scoping Sisika. I felt it when he was clearing the new camp with Charles… worse, in fact.

My stomach churned steadily, heart thumping, just hanging around and waiting was making me feel nervous. I didn't really know what I was nervous for, I guess it was just the impatience to get on the road again, because the sooner we were on our way, the sooner I'd be with Arthur and I could see he was okay. 

-

The journey to Beaver Hollow, our new camp, was bumpy and warm and humid… and awful. My backside was numb from the hard wood of the wagon, every rut in the road jostled my leg; at first it was okay, but the longer it went on the more it began to hurt and soon the pain was intense and my discomfort manifested itself in my stomach as the worst nausea I'd felt in a long time. I laid back against the side of the wagon with my head tilted up to the sky, breathing slowly and deeply, trying so hard not to let my sickness get the better of me. 

"You okay there sweetheart? You're lookin' a little rough," Abigail, who was sitting up on the seat of the wagon above me, called down over her shoulder. I shook my head. "Is it your leg? How is it, Miss Grimshaw's been checking it, ain't she?"

"Don't make me talk, I'll be sick," I said as gingerly as I could. I heard some murmuring from above, then the wagon shook with a thump as someone jumped down from above. I opened my eyes to see Lenny rummaging in the storage next to me, the clatter of metal meeting my ears. Then I was presented with a bowl. One we prepared food in! I wrinkled my nose and kept all my focus on not puking into it.

"You want me to sit with you?" He asked me, and I gave him a look that I hoped he would read as me leaving the option up to him. He didn't have to sit with someone on the verge of purging their stomach contents, but I wouldn't mind the distraction some company would provide.

Lenny sat down next to me, leaning against the opposite side of the wagon so we faced each other. 

"We're gonna be there soon, I promise, hang tight," he said to me, crossing his arms over his chest and watching me swallow thickly, the flood of excess saliva in my mouth. "You ever been up near Beaver Hollow?" He asked me.

I nodded minutely. 

"Sorry, right, I won't make you talk," he gave a small chuckle. "I heard some bad things about this place. But I think we'll be fine. A bunch like us? No one'll come poking around." 

I swallowed again, took a shaky, slow breath. 

"Hey, did Arthur ever tell you about the time he and I went drinking together?" He began, a toothy smile appearing on his face. I shook my head. "Let me tell you. Maybe it'll make you feel better," he said.

Lenny chuckled quietly, then glanced out the back of the wagon at the one following us, with Micah and Dutch on it. 

"Was when Micah went and got himself locked up in Strawberry. Arthur took me into Valentine for a few drinks, just to ease up a little, you know? All the worst nights start out with a quiet drink," he laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I don't remember a whole lot, we just kept on doing shots. One after the other. God knows how much we drank…"

I quirked a brow at him, trying to imagine him and Arthur drinking themselves half to death. I just couldn't picture it, especially not Lenny. He seemed like such a good kid! Perhaps Arthur had just been a bad influence… 

"I remember doin' the can-can in the middle of the saloon. I remember slapping Arthur in the face over and over, and that's about it… we woke up in a jail cell! I don't really know what we did to get there," he snorted. "Probably just being a pair of complete morons."

"How'd you get out?" I asked.

"They just let us go, I guess the sheriff saw the funny side," he grinned. "I ain't ever thrown up quite as much as I did in the aftermath of that, though– sorry, maybe I won't mention that."

I laughed just a little, careful not to jostle my stomach too much.

"We ain't been out drinking since, feel like I'm still getting over it," he snorted. I smiled, it was easier not to lose my breakfast while he was talking to me. 

"Tell me another story," I pleaded.

"Hmm, let me think for a second," he murmured. "I know. This was when we was out west, before Blackwater–"

Lenny talked the whole way, distracting me from my sickness. He told me stories about the gang from before I joined, and before everything started going so spectacularly wrong. It was nice, even if it did make me sad to think of all those the gang had lost since then, some I knew, others I didn't. He seemed particularly distant when he mentioned a girl called Jenny, who'd passed during the ferry job. I still didn't quite know what went on that day, but it seemed to be one major hit in a series of many the gang had taken in recent times. 

-

Charles met up with us on the way, leading us the rest of the way to Beaver Hollow. The caravan rolled into the new area, a clearing between the trees and the large cave that had apparently been used by the Murfree Brood before us. Arthur and Charles had cleared it for us, and it terrified me to think that Arthur had been up against that sick, deranged group of bastards. They seemed to have managed it though, and the place was cleared and ready for us to set up. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, however, but Charles approached me before I could get myself too twisted in a knot with concern. 

"There was a girl locked up in the cave. Arthur's taking her back home, he'll be back later," he told me, offering his arm out, hinting for me to scoot forwards towards the open edge of the wagon. I gingerly did just that, keeping my leg straight. 

"A girl? Is she okay?" I queried, and Charles frowned a little as he took my hand, guided it around his shoulders and lifted me onto my good foot. 

"Physically, I think so. She was real shook up, though. That place was a mess down there, in the cave," he told me quietly, depositing me down on a chair he'd retrieved for me. I thanked him for his assistance as he let me go. "How're you feeling?"

"Sick," I said truthfully. "Was all I could do not to hurl on the way up here," I chuckled weakly. His frown deepened. 

"Have your wounds been checked recently?" He asked me, looking to me for permission before pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.

"This morning," I nodded, "there's no sign of infection. I think it was just the journey, it hurt from all of the bumps in the road."

"Okay. I'll see if I can find something to help you once we're all set up," he patted me on the shoulder. 

"Thanks, Charles," I smiled. He went off to help everyone unload the wagons. 

I had to sit and watch everyone buzzing around setting up tents, making the place into something that resembled a home. As much as I wished to be able to help, I was glad that everyone was too busy to pay attention to me when I – as quietly as I could – finally lost my battle with nausea on the ground beside my chair on the outskirts of the camp. I almost immediately felt better, though it wasn't fun having to sit next to it until someone could come and help me move away. At least I didn't do it in the wagon, I thought. 

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 30: Recovery

(We'll bring you back to life.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 30: Recovery

Word Count: 5766

Relationships: D(LAMPR)/DR. PAL (platonic)

Warnings: Suicide attempt aftermath (it isn't really talked about much, but it is mentioned), not unsympathetic Patton but he is kind of an asshole in this and he sees the error of his ways (hopeful ending), Remus-typical disturbing/violent language, angry confrontation, mentions of a scar/violent altercation, mentions/implications of brainwashing, cursing

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. i meant to get this out in time and then i had a really bad bit of writer's block and got super unmotivated, but... anyway, enough excuses! i really hope this makes up for the wait, if even a little bit. this is a direct sequel to day 1: shaky hands (bringing it full circle babey!!!!) and it is the longest one yet! pls enjoy hehe~

When Deceit wakes up, he realizes three things simultaneously. One, it’s fucking cold, so cold that he can’t feel his hands or feet. Two, his head feels like it was just run over by a truck, like his brain got melted into mush and now he can barely think properly. Three, he’s not dead. He knows he’s not dead, he’s not gone, because Logan is sitting in a chair across the room quietly reading a book. If Deceit had truly succeeded, Logan wouldn’t be here, and he wouldn’t have woken up at all.

Shit.

“Wh… What happened? Why’m I not gone?” Deceit asks hoarsely, words slurred and throat gravelly from disuse. Much of his existence has been defined by his innate ability to repulse people, to scare them and push them away, so it’s more than a shock for him when Logan glances up from his book and gives him a small smile. That warm look is always reserved for the others, the ones who actually deserve it, so seeing it directed towards himself steals the breath from his lungs.

“You’re awake, I see. Are you in any pain?” Logan asks as he strides over to stand in front of where Deceit is lying propped up on a stack of pillows. He raises his hand to check for a fever, the backs of his fingers a warm balm on cool skin. When he detects nothing unusual, Logan tucks a loose strand of hair behind Deceit’s ear, tilts his head and listens with rapt attention as Deceit describes his points of pain (throat, stomach, head). The care he’s being given is so unexpected, and surreal, and Deceit is almost desperate to keep receiving it. He doesn’t remember the last time he had any kind of affection directed towards him, the last time someone cared enough to ask if he was okay. It’s odd, yet addicting in a way.

“Why aren’t I… should’a died,” Deceit whispers as his brows pull in, an unmistakably sad look echoing in his distant eyes. It doesn’t feel like there’s much else to say when his legs curl up to meet his chin, when he gazes ruefully at the blankets in front of him, and yet Logan somehow knows how to quell even a little bit of the turbulence in Deceit’s mind. He just sighs and sits on the bed, adjusts his glasses, and clears his throat with restlessness barely hidden below a mask of indifference.

“Roman found you in the tub. We immediately got to work caring for you and attempting to keep you alive, however you fell into a coma, which is obviously irreversible when the injury is self-inflicted. You have been asleep for approximately three weeks, and it… has been, well. Chaotic, for lack of a better term. As you did not die, there was no replacement to act in your stead, but since you were not awake to properly facilitate your function, Thomas was unable to employ your trait at all. It caused a lot of havoc, you know,” Logan says softly, exhaustion clear in his face and voice. A gentle finger wraps around one of Deceit’s own, holding it in a gesture of comfort, a promise. “I’m… I apologize for not saying anything that day, for not stopping Patton. I should not have been so cowardly as to enable the casting away of such an important side.”

And though Logan’s voice is thick, his sentiment remains steady, a quiet regret laced in the atonement that’s just as heavy as the tears building in Deceit’s eyes. He never thought in a million years that Logan would ever apologize to him, that anyone would ever care enough about him to feel guilty. It tears through him like a whirlwind, switching back and forth between joy and grief so quickly it’s causing a migraine to poke tauntingly behind his eyes.

“Logan that’s… s’not your fault. You didn’t wanna get hurt, and that’s good. I’m glad you didn’t. I’m… ‘m self-preservation-- not just for me and Thomas, but for you sides 's well. You getting mistreated would be far more painful than anything I’ve had to endure,” Deceit mumbles, wet eyes shining as he finally raises his head to meet Logan’s sorrowful scrutiny. Logan swallows hard as he moves his fingers to thread through Deceit’s own, unusual tactility breathing in a space meant for rest. His posture is tense, a sure sign of discomforted remorse, and it takes all of Deceit’s effort not to reach forward and gather him in a protective hug.

“It’s not an excuse, though. I still shouldn’t have allowed them to push you out like that, should’ve tried harder to get them to understand how valuable and important you are to Thomas. Like you are to me,” Logan stresses, and Deceit’s breath catches in his throat. He… does he really care that much? He thinks Deceit is important even when Deceit doesn’t believe that himself? That he’s of value? That… that he isn’t worthless?

And Logan has never been one for brevity, has always been ready to go on tangents of information and explanations and reassurance. He always clarifies things, breaks them down to the true basics to expose them for what they really are. He teaches, and cultivates minds and knowledge, and he’s so incredibly fascinating to watch. His mind is mesmerizing, the way he forms his thoughts so clearly and concisely that it’s impossible to have things be lost in translation.

“You keep Thomas safe, Deceit. You are his verbal shield, of sorts, what gives him the ability to protect himself and others. You strive for him to better himself and to do things for himself. You allow him to treat himself kinder, let him live easier without so much stress and responsibility and exhaustion. Although I don’t agree with some of your viewpoints, you only want what’s best for Thomas and will fight for it despite everyone pushing back on you anyway. You’re the only one of us who is truly alone and yet you’re brave enough to face the scorn just so that you can do your best to help Thomas. I… I admire you, Deceit. You are much stronger than I could ever be. It’s why you can’t leave us. I know selfishness is in your nature, and wanting to disappear is understandable given the circumstances of your existence, but… Thomas can’t function properly without you. He’s almost lost three friends just this week, which would only be detrimental to his mental and emotional state. We need you to stay. I need you to stay.”

And, well, if an immeasurably vulnerable Deceit is only able to burst out into tears, bury his sobs in the fabric of Logan’s button-up shirt while they both rock soothingly back and forth, then maybe it was time to really, truly let go.

-

To Deceit’s surprise, the second person he sees after waking up is Virgil. Logan has apparently allowed Deceit to stay in his room throughout the duration of his slumber, but Deceit is seriously starting to miss his pet snake, Ethel, so he managed to convince Logan to let him switch to his own bedroom. It’s odd to walk after not moving at all for weeks, so leaning on Logan’s shoulder for support is crucial to making sure he doesn’t fall over and take a nose dive into the floor.

It’s in the hallway that they run into the anxious side, and where Deceit is sure he’s about to get yelled at or something. Although they had been close in childhood, once Virgil left them, his attitude flipped like a switch for no apparent reason. For a long time, Deceit wondered what he did, thought that Virgil’s hate was warranted, but now… although he still doesn’t truly believe he belongs with anyone, he’s done throwing a pity party for himself. He didn’t do anything wrong, has never done anything to purposely harm Virgil, and hell if he’s gonna let the other side's scalding remarks poke holes in his self-esteem.

“D… Deceit?” Virgil breathes when he sees them, stops in his tracks and hides further in his hood. Logan looks at Deceit questioningly, as if telling him that he will absolutely walk right past Virgil without a word if Deceit wanted him to, and it’s so reassuring that Deceit immediately feels a thousand times more ready to finally face this. “You’re actually awake.”

“Yeah. I am,” Deceit says, and then he realizes that he needs to say this now before he loses his courage again. A sigh escapes him as he rubs his eye tiredly, and Logan squeezes his waist comfortingly. “I’m not leaving, Virgil. I don’t know what your problem is with me, I don’t know why you hate me so much when we used to be best friends, and I don’t know what I did to you that was so awful that you have to fight with me every time I’m around. I don’t. But I’m tired of spending night after night crying to myself and wondering what I did wrong. I think… I think it’s time for me to ask what you did wrong, and I don’t know if I can really forgive you for the things you’ve said to me right now. But I’m here, and I’m staying for good, and you’re gonna have to learn to get over that because I’m seriously getting sick of feeling like I'm not good enough for you.”

Wow. That little rant made him feel the best he has felt in a long time. Although he’s pinching himself hard and using the pain as a way to be able to tell the full truth outside of their rooms, a certain clarity befalls him with each word. It’s immensely relieving to finally say the things he’s been wanting to tell Virgil for years, to finally let himself think that maybe it’s not his fault for once. And he can tell Logan is proud of him, judging by the way his eyes shine with respect despite his neutral expression.

Virgil looks miserable, and Deceit wants to feel bad, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t regret what he said a single bit, doesn’t wish to take back any of his words. The anxious side opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but aborts the action at the last second, instead going to stare at the floor while he chews on his lip. His silence means a lot more than Virgil himself likely realizes, meanings and intentions and unnamed thoughts spilling out in the space between them, and Deceit nudges Logan so that they can walk around him and into Deceit’s own bedroom.

They have a long way to go, but Deceit can already feel the tiniest bit of hope shining inside him.

-

A lot has changed in the four months since Deceit’s attempt. For one, Thomas has allowed him a more permanent spot in the group, after a particularly heated argument with Logan than ended with the three of them finally coming to a mutual understanding with one another. Secondly, Virgil is talking to him again. Not the passive-aggressive banter, not the scathing insults, not the glares and hostility that Deceit is so used to. Now, he’s really trying to actually talk to him, will speak about something that happened in the news with him at the dinner table or show him memes when they’re both chilling in the mindscape living room. There’s so much more there, so much more respect and care, and Deceit has a feeling that they might even be friends again sometime soon. 

Thirdly, Deceit has barely seen and hasn't talked to Patton outside of filming videos.

Although Deceit doesn’t particularly want to speak with Patton, listen to him say that "he's a bad influence, Thomas is a good person, you can't be here", it’s still odd that he’s somehow able to never be in the room when Deceit enters. When he does catch him off guard, the older side only gives him an unreadable look and makes his exit as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, typically taking advantage of the twins’ commotion to slip out undetected. Deceit notices, because of course he does, and to his own surprise, it doesn’t bother him as much as he expects. He’ll just wait for Patton to come to him, whenever he’s finally ready to admit his faults and apologize, so there’s no point in fretting over it.

However, Deceit does need to talk with the twins, Roman more so than Remus, and it’s this need that leaves him standing outside Roman’s door at one in the morning, a fist raised to knock. It’s not like he has to worry about Roman being asleep, because he’s always awake into the late hours of the night, frantically coming up with new ideas just to veto them all anyway. His process is almost manic, completely self-destructive, and it garners a lot of sympathy from a part of himself that can sorely relate.

The three swift raps on the door evoke a surprised squawk from within the bedroom, and multiple loud thumps can be heard before the heavily decorated door swings open. Deceit just stands there with a judgemental expression, lightheartedly raising an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of the creative side. He’s covered head-to-toe in glitter, multiple colours sparkling when the plastic reflects the dim light coming from the hall. He looks ridiculous, with the flakes in his hair and eyelashes and clothing, but he manages to look confident even despite that. It’s fake, Deceit knows it’s fake, but he humours him anyway.

“What’re you doing in there?” Deceit asks, a sly smirk playing on his lips, and Roman has the humility for an embarrassed blush to spread across his cheeks. He fidgets with the bottom of his coat even as he puts on a brave face, and Deceit can see through him so easily. Maybe it has to do with his purpose, the fact that the very arrogance the princely side portrays is a lie in itself, or maybe it’s because Roman is just that transparent.

“Just-- Just creating art! None of your business! Why’re… why are you here?” Roman asks, initial loudness tapering off to reveal uncertainty and vulnerability, and it’s a wonder the others haven’t figured this out sooner. Roman is so painfully obvious in his insecurity, shows how much he truly doubts himself and his work like a flashing neon sign above his head.

“I wanted to talk. Come to an understanding, if you will,” Deceit hums, adjusts his trusty bowler hat on his head casually despite it actually being a nervous tic. He doesn’t actually know what Roman is going to say, doesn’t know if he’s going to fall back on yelling and accusations and swing out his sword just like he did before. Will Deceit be left with a scar this time, too? Will he gain another streak of raised white, another lightning bolt stretching across the expanse of his skin, marring the smooth surface just like last time?

“Oh. Uh, um. Come in, then, I-I guess,” Roman stutters, picks at a flake of shimmering chipped nail polish as he steps to the side. His room is just as much of a mess as Deceit expects if not more, but the vexation he feels as he scans the aftermath of a creative tornado is just as acute. Stacks of parchment paper are piled in high towers around the room, looming overhead like a thundercloud of loathing. Pens and pencils and fabric and threads are strewn about, placed in such an intrinsically accurate way that it feels like the chaos is almost organized. It’s meticulous in its frenzy, a passionate craze that seems to be woven into so much of how the other side functions.

“I came to ask you for a favour. I ask you to not whip out your katana at me any time we are in the vicinity of one another. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, no?” Deceit asks, smooth and suave and uninterested on the surface. Of course, underneath he isn’t faring as well, but Roman doesn’t need to know that. Deceit is just waiting for Roman’s congeniality to flip on its head like a switch, for the civil nature of their interaction to turn sour when he decides he’s done listening to him. He’s expecting for Roman to yell, or maybe even for a fist to come his way, and he’ll have to start back at square one again. That’s just how Roman is. Fiercely protective, headstrong even when that same stubbornness and fire causes him to stumble, to put his attention in the wrong place.

But he doesn’t. Roman doesn’t get angry, in fact, he gets quite a sad look in his eyes at Deceit’s words. The way his gaze probes far into Deceit’s own, pulls him apart and examines his intentions and thoughts and feelings, it all leaves him feeling incredibly vulnerable. And he is uncomfortable when against all odds, Roman just darts forward to pull Deceit into his arms, smushes his half-scaled face into a broader chest with a passion that has never, ever been for him.

“But of course, small snake! A true prince would never brandish his blade at anyone other than a foe, and you, my Daring Deception, are far from it,” Roman tells him with a full tone and bright eyes, and the way he looks down at Deceit with such compassion and care to completely contradict his usual regards leaves Deceit’s head spinning. The snake-like side looks up at Roman from where he’s snuggled into his chest, gives him wide eyes and a look of surprise that he forgets to mask, and Roman’s smile is so much more gentle than Deceit thought he had the capacity for. “You are a friend. You’re a brave, shining knight to protect Thomas, just like me! If you ask me, I think we’d make a pretty good team.”

The endeared grin Deceit gives him in return surprises both of them equally.

-

Deceit doesn’t expect much to happen when he rises up in Remus’ room. The place is just as messy as always, just as chaotic as Roman’s is but in a different way. While Roman can make sense of the chaos, search through the whirlwind with such accuracy as if rifling through a file cabinet, Remus simply takes a sniff and hopes for the best. He doesn’t bother with organization of any kind, doesn’t bother with making things easier on himself, and Deceit supposes that very tendency can account for a lot of the behaviour Remus has portrayed in the past.

“Double Dee! What’cha doin’ here? Wanna try the sandwich I made? It has strawberries and eel meat and tartar sauce! Here, have a bite!” Remus demands excitedly, childishly, and despite the disgust Deceit feels while looking at the absolutely abominable excuse of edible food squished between Remus’ fingers, he only shakes his head neutrally. He just needs to get this over with, make sure everything is okay between them.

“I’ve already eaten today, Remus. Maybe next time. Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” Deceit dismisses, waves a gloved hand as he clears away some garbage for a spot to sit on Remus’ bed. The owner of said bed perks up from where he sits cross-legged on the floor, a rigidly-postured Remus surrounded by a circle of discarded candy wrappers. Deceit only hopes Remus actually ate them, and didn’t do something stupid, like glue them to his legs or see how many he could shove up his nose. “Do you… do you hate me?”

“What? ‘f course not! You’re fun, Dee-Dee! Almost as fun as when rollercoasters go flying off their tracks and smash into a building and go up in flames with the screaming passengers still inside! Hey, what did dying feel like?” Remus answers, jumping and shifting from one topic to another so fast it’s giving Deceit whiplash. He doesn’t like to linger on a particular topic for very long with the exception of him being the one to bring it up, unless it’s immediately or inherently shunned by someone else for existing. That only adds fuel to the fire, gives Remus a reason to keep perpetuating the idea, because the more Thomas doesn’t want to think about something, the more he’s guaranteed to toil under it. “You wanted to die, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t’a ate all those pills. ‘cept I already know that we can actually die ‘n’ be replaced, since that’s what happened with our ol’e pal Lust. And the new one got thrown in the subconscious a week later, so. Are y’a wantin’ to leave? Wanna… wanna leave me behind?”

And Deceit doesn’t really know what to say to that. They didn’t talk much when they were still living together in the “dark” part of the mindscape, not even when they were three instead of two. They’ve never been particularly close, and yet Remus sounds genuinely upset at the notion of Deceit leaving for good. His impact must be much larger than he’s thought all this time, to cause such hurt and betrayal in someone he was sure was indifferent to his presence. 

“Of course not, Remus. It was a mistake, and I won’t make it again. I’m staying, this time, and I’m not gonna leave you alone,” Deceit consoles, reassures despite the fact that Remus isn’t outwardly upset. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t lash out, he doesn’t scream or shout or yell. He simply sits there, stares with his wistful, bitter brown eyes, and it makes him simultaneously all too easy to read and yet incredibly difficult.

“Oh. Well, good! That means I can make y’a more sandwiches! Chef’s special!” They’re sure to be disgusting. But maybe Deceit can pretend to like it just to see delight burst to life on Remus’ face.

-

Confronting Patton is the scariest thing Deceit has ever had to do in his entire existence as a side.

Despite what Logan said the day he woke up, Deceit is a coward. It’s a direct result of his purpose; after all, what kind of self-preservation would run straight into danger with no regard to what might happen after? His caution is certainly warranted, given the situation, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it isn’t still difficult. It’s hard to be so distrusting of someone who’s supposed to be a helper, someone who’s supposed to be Thomas’ morality. And Thomas is a good person, at times dangerously so, which makes Patton’s actions that day so many years ago so confusing.

Despite how part of him rings a pulsing red alarm when he’s even within a twenty-foot radius around the patriarchal side, there’s an even bigger part that’s yelling at him to hurry up and instigate an apology already, because this is getting annoying. He just wanted to wait, to let Patton come up with the correct conclusion on his own, because how else will he truly learn? But Deceit can’t even be in the same room with him without the other side scampering away at the first opportunity, and he’s tired of playing these cat-and-mouse games. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if he’s the cat or the mouse.

Having already made amends with all of the others, Deceit decides it’s time to stop putting this off. If Patton won’t suck it up and apologize, or if he really is just that oblivious to the point of all of this, then fine. He can be like that. Deceit will just come to him. And so he does, manages to sneak up on him while he’s in the kitchen, humming as he makes himself a salad. It’s late, so everyone else is either asleep or pretending to be, and it creates a space where Deceit can do this on his own. Although he’s embarrassed, Deceit isn’t too proud to admit that he is a little afraid, that he can see Patton turning on him and hurting him as a vivid mental image playing in a loop. He just hopes this doesn’t go that way.

“Patton,” Deceit says stoically, not exactly a greeting, but more of an accusation. Patton lets out a little shocked yelp and whips around, butter knife out as if he’s going to actually use it. Deceit may be scared, but apparently Patton is too, and he has no right to be. Before Patton can sink out and run away just like every other time, Deceit grabs his shoulder, gently but assertively pushing him down into the kitchen chair scooted away from the table.

Patton looks up at him with terrified eyes and an almost nauseous expression, and it takes a lot of personal control for Deceit to not be offended. Who is he to be afraid of Deceit? What has Deceit done to hurt and scare him so badly? What gives him the right to be so frightened, the nerve to seem petrified of this encounter after how he treated Deceit? Anger boils up in Deceit’s throat listlessly, a nebulous animosity that yearns to explode. It only builds when Patton cowers under the snake-like side’s unimpressed stare.

“We need to talk. No more of your running away,” Deceit demands, stern and obstinate, but he’s sure his firm demeanour appears much more inexorable to the fatherly side. Although Deceit really is trying his best to not be antagonistic, his ire is only fueling his volatility, leaving his self-restraint put through the wringer in the face of his almost overwhelming sense of betrayal. What took place that day should never have happened, the events seemingly a direct antithesis to Patton’s usual intentions and motivations as Morality, but it did, and he can’t go any longer trying to escape responsibility and repercussions while Deceit shoulders all of the stress it caused.

“W--W-What do you wanna t-talk about, kiddo?” Patton stutters, stumbles around a feigned ignorance as his eyes dart between everything but Deceit’s own steely gaze. His fingers tremble as he fidgets with them, attempts a distraction from the confrontation, and it’s so unfair that Deceit almost wants to turn and kick the side of the counter in an angry outburst. He doesn’t, of course, because he’s not that brazenly juvenile, but he sure does wish he could.

“I’m not your kiddo, not after what you did to me. Don’t you dare call me that,” Deceit hisses as he slams a hand down on the table right beside where Patton is leaning. The latter of the two flinches, jumps with a tiny scared squeal dying in his throat before it can even be released into the silence left after Deceit’s outburst. He swallows hard as tears prick at his eyes, shine in the dim light of the kitchen, and Deceit feels no sympathy at all.

“P-Please don’t hurt me!” Patton rushes out as he curls in further on himself, tries to make the space his body takes up as compact as possible. Deceit scoffs, pulling back to stand up straight once more. He may be the shortest out of all of the sides, but his dominant, authoritative fury lets him loom just as well. There’s really no point in drawing this out any more than it needs to be, and although Deceit certainly would take an immense satisfaction in seeing Patton squirm, he needs to be the bigger person here.

“Hurt you? What, like you hurt me?” Deceit’s words are simple, biting, but they accomplish their intended effect all the same, maybe even more so. Patton shrinks back as if he’s been slapped, and he kind of has, at least metaphorically. The only way he will truly understand the nature of his actions is by being blunt and upfront about it; no sugarcoating, no dancing around the subject, no room to make excuses or twist the imperative words. Guilt is a powerful thing, and when utilized correctly, it can be the one thing that truly shifts the interpersonal tide.

“I-- I… I’m sorry!” Patton blurts out, uncertain under Deceit’s withering glare. His admission feels fake, hollow, empty. It echoes in the room for a round, allows Deceit a moment to quell the curses that well up in his throat and dance on his silver tongue. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Yes you did, don’t lie to me,” Deceit spits, interrupting the fake reassurance and stopping it in its tracks before it can become bigger than it deserves to be. Patton’s mouth snaps shut as he looks down at his lap, arms slowly shifting to curl around himself in a mockery of an embrace. Fine. Let him garner all the comfort he can get, because he sure won’t be comfortable when Deceit is done.

“You made me think I was safe, that I had a family. I had existed in the mindscape for a total of two hours before you threw me out for something I couldn’t even control. And I’m half-snake, you know that-- did you know that snakes are cold-blooded?” Deceit asks, and he laughs humourlessly when he sees a dawning realization that turns into horror on Patton’s face. “I almost died out there. When Virgil found me, he had to literally bring me back to life moments before I would have fully faded away. Do you know how much that fucking scared him?

“You turned everyone who I ever thought could have been a friend against me. Roman was so happy to finally have someone to go on adventures with, and the next time I saw him, he hated me. I wonder why, hm? Did you know that after he switched his sword from plastic to metal, after you made him believe that I’m the evil villain he needs to slay, he tried to do exactly that? I still have the scar,” Deceit says bitterly as he lifts his hand up. He ignores Patton’s flinch in favour of pushing aside the fabric of his capelet and shirt, showing the paternal side the raised white line that jaggedly falls from the top of his shoulder to about halfway down his arm. A whimper spills from Patton’s lips, desperate and ashamed, and Deceit really hopes he’s finally starting to get it.

“Not to mention what you did to Logan. He was so fucking terrified to speak up about what you did to me that he stayed silent, went directly against his purpose as a side just to make sure that he wouldn’t be thrown out and ostracized too. Do you know how much that hurts me, as self-preservation? What’s even worse is that I’m glad he stayed quiet and kept himself safe, because who knows what could have happened if he dared to go against Morality.”

With the words shot from Deceit’s mouth like a bullet from a revolver, tears finally breach Patton’s lashes, roll over his cheekbones and fall in droplets onto his pants. His shoulders shudder under the weight of silent sobs, and even as Patton’s lips twist as he tries not to cry audibly, he still keeps his head held up while he listens. The action is peculiar, and Deceit knows what he’s trying to convey, but atonement is much more than just that. It’s a start, but there’s certainly a long way to go.

“Virgil was my best friend, you know. I cared about him so fucking much, and he was the only one who truly had my back when I was still recovering from what you did. But even he wanted to have a taste of acceptance, and it wasn’t a surprise in the slightest when he suddenly hated me the next time we were able to talk. Your brainwashing knows no limits, truly,” Deceit sneers, contempt in his eyes and pain in his heart. He doesn’t want to open up. He doesn’t want to be honest like this, doesn’t want to pinch himself until he’s numb just so he can focus long enough to finally show Patton the truth about what he’s done. He doesn’t want to, but he has to, because he’ll just regret it if he doesn’t.

“I wasn’t really ever close friends with Remus, but that doesn’t matter because Remus shouldn’t even exist. In fact, neither should Roman. You split Creativity apart, forced them apart based on your arbitrary set of rules for Thomas to abide by, and shoved him into a harmful, narrow mindset. And if that wasn’t enough, you couldn’t even let them properly be brothers and grow up together as siblings, like they should have. No, you shoved Remus out just like me, and it caused him to hole himself up in his room for nearly twenty years just so he could use his part of the Imagination to make a world where he wasn’t separated from his literal other half. He likes to act like he doesn’t care, but I know he does, and he shouldn’t fucking have to.

“You’ve only brought suffering upon me, and Remus, and Virgil at one point. To those who needed you the most, you scorned and demonized, and left us with no guidance or warmth simply because you don’t like our purpose. But we are all sides of Thomas, just as much as you are, and whether you like it or not, we are important and needed. I’m done trying to convince myself to be the villain, to play into your fantasy and the knowledge that I’d never get accepted or be listened to. I deserve so much more than you’re giving me, and I’m never going to make the mistake of inherently trusting you again. This time, you have to earn it.”

“I’m so sorry, Deceit,” Patton whispers, slow and thick and watery at the same time, and the soft, quiet words cause Deceit to completely deflate. He’s so tired, so fucking exhausted, and he knows that it’s going to be this way for a long time.

And maybe it’s too much. Maybe it’ll take too long, or maybe it’ll never happen. Maybe they’ll never truly fix this, mend and repair the cracks driven between them as a result of how Deceit grew up. Maybe Deceit will never work up the courage to forgive Patton, to be able to look at him without fear and anger leaping up into his throat. But none of that matters, not really, because Deceit finally has people who care about him, people who will stand up for him and support him when he can’t do it himself. And for now, maybe that’s all he really needs.

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | Bloody Fingers

just to say, this chapter isn't as bad as the title makes it seem but wahoo

remember this is a first draft with only minor editing, but enjoy! comments and reception are heavily appreciated.

-

He treaded down the streets of Obodo, legs sore and physical body dying. Despite the pain however, the flashes of the prior hours quickened his pace. He kept his hood up against the crowd to hide his contrasted red and blackened face.

He whispered to himself, “So, he didn’t die…”

The surprise left half the bricks on him afloat. The throbbing external pain also added a mark for proof of the miracle. 

He wandered through the streets alone, too boggled up by the events he’d been in. 

The crosswalk shined red and urged him to stop his hurried legs. He panted against his raging heartbeat. Without realizing, his own body was rushing to go somewhere, get something irredeemable. 

However, Oliver only fixated himself to the solved situation at hand. “He didn’t back away from me… he still wants to help.”

The light turned green; he dashed passed his waiting herd. 

Why the hell would he help me? He questioned. I’m the killer; I’m the one who hit him- 

A shot of achiness went through his entire body. He stumbled on his steps, bumping into surrounding fodder. He pled his apologies in mumbles as he rushed away from them. 

He grumbled. “I have to talk to Alice.” His stomach screamed at him once more while the black markings started to burn. “And that too.” 

His feet turned to a certain crosswalk, in which what lied ahead woke Oliver up for real. 

He tensed from the idea, growing sick of it by the seconds. 

Am I really…?

The thought of blood craved upon his lips. He hesitated on the decision. 

The crosswalk lit green; Oliver took a step forward to the park he had been in shortly ago. 

“I’m going to regret this.”

*

Bombs of screaming children blasted at his ears. He stood in the midst of all the chaos, studying everyone around in a hazy state; heart aching from his actions. 

Kids mocked each other of their speed; others played tag with fun-filled smiles. A group of children gathered around a single spot to dig up the mulch and find treasure; while another made a game through the slides. 

They all held youthful faces. Too young for Oliver to interfere. 

Though, in the corner of his eye, a small sandbox sat on the side. Glimpsing upon it, a girl built valleys by herself at the spot. Her face blurred to Oliver, though her size seemed about his age, the oldest out of the entire park. 

He pitied her. She’s lived a longer life than anyone else here. It’s the fairest. 

A clench was made with his fists with the thought. 

He whisked around, stepping back to exit the playground. He stumbled and panted through his aches, but the girl wasn’t worth it. 

The steps grew longer and heavier the closer he made it out; Oliver pushed onwards despite. Nobody would be harmed by him anyways. A winning situation for them all. 

The marks stung him but stopped jolting him awake. And his eyes turned drowsier. Oliver’s mind became numb as it drifted away from control. 

All Oliver could comprehend before blacking out was his body turning back.  

A brush of the grass tickled his hands and cheeks as he slept. Though, the air was silent upon him, no animals chirping or tree leaves wrestling. All there lied was a grey sky and the deafening atmosphere of Fowls. 

In a gasp, Oliver jolted awake. He wheezed in air from the fear that’s struck within him and checked his stomach. 

It was already filling up and healing. 

He sat up. The forest still had its dead presence like before and like himself. Cursing at himself, he smacked his hand against the ground. 

Steps came from the distance, grass getting crushed then forming back up again in the process. The same old woman appeared before Oliver. 

She frowned, “Not doing well, I assume?”

He scowled at Alice. “I’m getting more insane by the day, I swear.”

She sighed. “Believe me, almost everyone here would agree with you.” She got down to her knees, adjusting her dress to the ground. “How did the meeting with your friend occur?” 

In a short time, Oliver reluctantly conversed about the previous two days involving Ayu with the woman. 

“Of course, that boy wouldn’t have been in danger by your attack in the first place,” she exclaimed.

“W-what?”

She smiled. “You had nothing to worry about with him, Oliver. Honestly, I say you keep him as a friend with that reason.” 

Oliver questioned, “But why would you know that?”

“Pardon?” Her eyes widened. “Oh! That’s simple. I heard of you talking with the boy from Vittorino so I went to learn a bit about him myself out of curiosity.” She flushed red. 

Oliver stared. “That’s… a little weird of you.” He exhaled. “But anyways, he told me to talk to you about something so that’s why I’m here.”

“What is it?”

He tattled his fingers against his legs. “Do I have any powers?”

Her face turned to concern. “Oh dear, I thought you already knew.”

He scoffed, “How would I’ve known?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she admitted. “You could’ve just figured it out through the wolf or started going through developments already!”

“Well, I didn’t even know the wolf existed until today so that’s convenient.” 

“Goodness,” she hissed and grumbled, “Why are you so terrible, Ak-.” She took a breath.

Oliver raised a brow. “You good there?”

“Yes, I’m swell.” She placed a hand on her forehead. “I’ll explain for you then.”

“Thanks.”

“Now before anything, the wolf was created for you as an emergency device just so you know.” She adjusted his messy hair as she spoke. 

Though Oliver whisked her hand off. “For if I starve myself?”

“Exactly,” she replied. “I actually find it quite surprising that he- the wolf grew such an intelligence for gathering food. Such a marvel in magic I must say.” She smiled in her words. 

Oliver made skeptical eyes. “You say that as if it’s a good thing.” 

Alice noted, “Oh it isn’t at all; however, it’s still an astonishing tool for you to live.” She faced him with caring eyes even if he didn’t reciprocate. “Though, I assume Ayu stopped the wolf too quickly for you to come into contact with me. But that’s just him.”

“Can we just move on,” Oliver stopped her. 

Alice paused from her next words. She adjusted herself. “Ah, yes… Aside from the wolf, your abilities are rather simplistic. From what I can recall you only have two.”

He asked, “And what are they exactly?”

“That’s the part I love,” she states. “You have your father’s abilities: Invisibility and shapeshifting.” 

Oliver froze. “… Wait that’s actually cool.”

Alice giggled. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“That just means I can mess around with almost everybody,” he grinned. 

“Just to inform you,” she added, “with your blood and the fact that your powers are natural, you’ll have to learn manually. That and you have to keep your body in maintenance at the very least to be able to use them.”  

He pouted. “Now that’s lame.” He grumbled against his own disabilities, though changed tone after. “If you’re saying that I have to learn, then can you help me with that?”

Alice scoffed, “You’re asking me? Oliver, of course I would help you. Though, I’d consider you taking lessons from me if you want to learn.”

“Why lessons?” 

“So, then you can be educated efficiently. Don’t consider my teachings as critical though; I’ve never honed the abilities or even my own by heart.”

Oliver bit his lip. “Well, thank you then.” He shifted his gears to, “One other thing?”

“Yes?”

“Is it possible for,” he hesitated from asking. “Can Ayu come along to learn about your history and stuff?”

Alice turned to him, brows up in a surprised expression. “Why does he desire to know?” Her tone was cold; brisk in the state of urgency. 

Oliver tensed by her question. “He’s… just as confused as me; he doesn’t know what’s going on or what he’s doing so he wants help too,” he proclaimed. “This might do the trick for him if his guess is right.”

“Guess?”

Oliver side-eyed her. “I don’t wanna go into that much detail, but he’s eager to do anything by this point…”

Alice didn’t say a word. She gazed upon the grass ahead of them. “I cannot foretell if it’s possible-”

“Please Alice… Mom,” he interrupted, forcing the title to come from his words. “You say that I should stick with him, right? Then why don’t I help him to pay that back?”

“Oh, Oliver…,” Alice sighed. She pulled a strand of hair while mumbling, “I suppose I can request someone to advise him.”

The boy smiled at her. “Now that’s quite satisfying to hear,” he mimicked her accent. “Greatest gratitude.”

She narrowed her eyes with a sneer along with him. “You’re a snarky one, aren’t you?”

“When I feel like it,” he replied. “Hold on a second- who’ll be the person to teach him?”

“Simply a good friend of mine,” she answered, relaxing herself in the grass some more. “There’s nothing to stress about with her, even if she is a tad cantankerous.”

“Canta- what now?” He eyed her with the frazzled phrase.

“Ill-tempered. She’s ill-tempered,” she giggled. “… You likely have to go soon, don’t you?”

Oliver’s face dulled back to his old irritation. He laid back against the grass, pressing on his stomach. “I feel full now so yeah,” he puffed against the cold air. 

“Well,” Alice glumly spoke. She stood up, picking off specks of grass on her skirt. “You ought to start sleeping yourself awake now.” She set a forced breath of a laugh. 

“I guess so…” He shimmied around the grass patch. Discomfort from the fakeness of it all itched his skin.

Footsteps rang through Oliver’s head, growing fainter with each stride. It brushed his ears to where it tranced him; his eyes growing heavy with a dozy mind. As the steps disappeared, the last thing whispered to him was, “I’ll see you whenever you wish.”

A gasp of air leaped out of Oliver’s throat. His eyes lit up upon the stump he’d known all too well. Its veins of bark stared back at him while he studied its line markings again. 

After a few known minutes, the boy sat up with an expressionless face. He was greeted with a quiet blood gala featuring scraps being eaten up by flies, a weekly event. 

It never dawned on him. The blood’s scent was almost precious by instinct, tickling his nose with its aroma. 

Without a reply to the dead silence, Oliver looked down towards his hands. Red covered over his skin; ripe without much dirt, he gazed upon them, odor looming over him. 

He licked it all off. 

The taste was delectable for him. 

***

With his mind clear and majority of his body clean of blood, Oliver walked along the pathways back home. 

“Whenever I wish huh…”

“I’ll go and tell Alice once you’ve decided,” Vittorino said. He jumped out from behind. The surprise pushed Oliver forward through flinching. 

“Why is it always you and Faustus who do that?” He grumbled while adjusting his dirty cardigan. 

Vittorino grinned. “Ah, who’s to know, really. He’s admirable though, so maybe I may have picked up something from him.”  

“So, you did know him,” Oliver asked.

“Not entirely?” They both walked on.

Oliver turned flat faced. “That isn’t entirely helpful either.”

Vittorino walked backwards, facing him. “I’m not supposed to be the most helpful person. You should be acknowledged of this by now.” 

“Still isn’t the best for me,” he grumbled. “What do you even do aside from this? - I mean- I know what you’re a part of but-”

“But that’s an easy answer for me,” he finished. He leaped onto street steps, swinging around the sign pole in front of him. “Heard of second eras, right? I’m practically their leader.”

Oliver eyed him. “But don’t you follow a leader yourself?”

“I do,” he answered, “but I’m his loyalist follower.” 

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really?”

“Mhm, special too since I don’t even have to touch anyone to kill.” He faced away from Oliver, dashing off to the next crosswalk. 

“Goddamn, wait up,” he stumbled to catch up. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Simple,” he examined ahead. “I was given the ability to warp minds and actions from him.”

“You- what?”

“And I use the gift to my advantage, you see,” he stepped onto the streets along with the crowd, babbling with pride. “I just make people kill themselves with it.”

Oliver’s heart stopped; he choked on his words. The chuckling, manic youth in front of him smiled carelessly to his dreading words. 

“You…” Oliver stuttered. “Why haven’t you killed me yet? I could be an easy target.”

His smile broke. “Oh, I’m not allowed to do anything to you. That’s it.”

His nonchalant attitude on the subject reeked Oliver. His entire body tensed at him. “Alice was right. You are ‘disturbed’.” He rushed away from him. 

Vittorino laughed in the distance. He yelled, “Don’t ya wanna talk some more?”

“Nope,” he yelled back. “Fuck off! You’re too fucked for me to deal with right now!” He slabbed his hood over him. An exhale broke out from him as his apartment building loomed ahead over him. 

*

“Oh, Oliver, you back!”

The boy passed through the door and entered to the sight of his mother. His breathing calmed; his steps led back to a peace he’d known all his life. 

“Hey Mom,” he greeted. “How was work today?”

She set aside the work on her lap. “Today was actually kinda relaxing. Carl had a funny story,” she began chatting all the while cleaning up her hair. 

Oliver followed and laughed at the short tales of her patients. Her spirit of rambling livened up the room and the rest of his day. 

He melted away in the couch as his mother heated up leftovers from the night prior; and they babbled for endless minutes with the cozy stove warming up the air. 

His mother noted, “You seem more up than usual, Oliver. What’ve you been up to?”

The boy’s eyes fluttered open by her question. Well, the entire day was a mess really, Mom, he desired to reply. Though, a smidge of warmth tapped on his heart; some small glimmer of hope dawned on him with his black, messy hair and odd eyes. “Not that much has happened, I guess. Just made a new friend recently is all.”

“Oh?” She stifled a giggle. “And what might they be like?”

“Definitely weird,” he admitted. Then again, everyone is now. “But… he’s more preferable than others. At least.”

She hummed, “How have you two been doing then?” She sat back with a plate of chicken. 

“We just kinda hung out since I was a little bored,” half a lie, “I’m planning on seeing him again but… he’s usually busy so I don’t think you’ll see him anytime soon.”

She took a bite of her meal. “And how are you seeing him yourself then.”

“… school.” He answered carefully. “And he texts me… and I go to his apartment building and talk to him through windows.” He smiled at the thought. 

“Oliver!” His mother scolded, “While I appreciate the enthusiasm for a new friend, that still isn’t the most ethical way of seeing him.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it also unethical to eat on the couch?”

“There’s eating on the couch, then there’s the invasion of private property.” She treaded along back to the table. “It’s a bit of a difference.” 

Oliver added more to the fib. “Well, at least I get his permission to go there first.”

“Do you get his parents’?”

Of course, “No.”

She scoffed, “Now that isn’t the best excuse, now is it?” 

He grumbled to the fake argument, crossing his arms and sinking into the cushions. “Probably but I’ll most likely still go because he’s cool-” He corrected,” Okay not cool cool but nice to be around.”

She laughed. “I still won’t recommend it. But this is probably the first time in a while that you’ve talked about somebody else; I’m glad.”

He paused then smiled at her sincerity. Snuggling up against a pillow, he mumbled, “I think I am too,” and drifted off to a peaceful slumber in their quiet bond. 

For once, a blade wasn’t needed to ease a pain in his gut. 

-

Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother | A Demon | A Child | The Wolf | Next >>>

[cottoncandyjester]

Your blog is an absolute delight to browse through <33333

I adore your OCs. They all have their individual quirks and seeing you write them is a treat.

If you are accepting requests, I was wondering if you could do some reverse comfort for your OCs? Where they're not having a good day and their s/o comforts them.

I love yandere content but I am still a sucker for that good wholesome stuff :).

I absolutely love this

Also Was unsure if I should add salem in this cause a lot of people sent hate about him since i Introduced him cause he's disgusting but i did add him cause I love him and he needs love and support

Story contains: some angst, talk of self harm, fluffy fluff, soft boys

Theodore

You've never seen theo angry ever since you two got together but today he seemed to be stressed out, he was studying for a test and from the sounds of it he was going crazy. You walked towards the room only to hear a loud crash which made you jump and you rushed in

Theo had thrown his glasses across the room now sitting in the chair with his head in his hands a shaky sigh escaping him.

"im never going to get it, damn it.."

You looked at the papers scattered about and it looked like some intense stuff, you walked towards theo and hugged him from behind.

"take a break.."

Theo chuckled lightly before he leaned back looking in your eyes, it was clear he hasn't slept in a while.

"you know i can't do that angel, you get to bed though it's late"

You moved onto theo's lap which he allowed, he shivered lightly at the stern look in your eyes since he never seen you look this serious. He tried to settle your worries by giving you soft kisses on your neck but it seems you weren't easy to sway.

"theodore, I want you to get into bed with me and sleep right now."

The male sighed and looked at the clock on the study desk seeing it was about 2am, he did want sleep but he was far too worried about not passing to even think about it.

"sweetie, I have to study. How will I be a good husband if I don't finish college?"

"who says you arent already a good husband?"

Your words shocked him and he stared at you with a confused look before you lovingly wrap your arms around his neck and planting a soft kiss onto his lips.

"you're perfect theo, you don't have to constantly prove it okay? Don't ever doubt that."

Theodore was silent after that and he buried his face in your neck with a low hum, he truly didn't deserve you.

"you think I'm perfect?"

"of course I do, I love you so come and get some rest"

Theo decided to give in and lay down with you and for some reason when he did all those worries drifted away.

Hikaru

Hikaru didnt have time feeling sad, he was a model not to mention a public figure. He never lets you see that side of him unless it's to lash out at you but he onky does that in anger. Today was different, he was quiet today which Definitely wasn't like him

"hey, [y/n]?"

You looked up from your phone to look at the male who just got out the shower his hair still damp and he only wore sweatpants

"what's wrong? Want me to dry your hair again? You should put on a shirt before you get sick"

Hikaru said nothing and simply walked towards you and hugged you close making you both fall back on the bed, the shocked you and you started to pat hikaru on the back trying to get him off.

"h-hey! Are you okay? Are you sick?! Hikaru?!"

"I'm..sorry I'm really sorry, [y/n] dont leave cause I'm really sorry"

He was making zero sense and it only concerned you more but you heard sniffling which made you now freaked out so you softly pulled him back seeing tears rolling down his face.

"hey, why are you crying? What's wrong hikaru?"

The male sat up now sittinf on his knees and he kept his head down letting his hair cover his face as he tried to stop crying.

"I know you dont really love me, I'm mean and cold and awful. You want to leave don't you? But- but I don't want you to go! Im sorry I don't know how to love you i just don't know!"

Hikaru sounded an absolute mess and you didn't know where this was coming from but he simply out the male close into a hug letting him nuzzle his face into your chest as you played with his slightly damp hair.

"yeah, you are mean and cold..but I love you. You can be so sweet and really fun to be with, hikaru Im not going to leave no matter what"

"r-really? No matter what?"

"of course! After all without you my sense of style would be a mess!"

You heard a muffled chuckle escaping him as he hugged you tightly now resting his head on your chest

"you're an idiot."

With a cocky grin you poked his cheek earning a hushed whine of discomfort from you which you found adorable

"but I'm your idiot, so you're stuck with me!"

Axis

Axis is the type where he will tell you when he's sad, he's a crybaby so he will absolutely let you know when he needs comfort. So when the male popped up while you were thinking about what to do for dinner you figured he was feeling down

"what's wrong ax?"

"artblock..I have to come up with a new piece but i have nothing"

You gave a small hum before stopping and turned around wrapping your arms around him.

"well, how about we go on a date tonight we can go out to eat and do a bunch of fun stuff.."

"like fireworks?!"

You sighed loudly at your boyfriend's obsession with fireworks and decided to please him and his wishes

"we can get sparklers and small stuff okay?"

Axis smiled brightly and kissed your cheek over and over.

"date night date night!"

He started chanting like a child and you couldn't help but laugh at his antics but you were glad he wasn't sad anymore.

Prince

Prince hides his insecurities very well with flirting and smooth words, he likes you to think that he's all okay. you noticed he was far more clumsy today with things, it went from simply dropping things to full on tripping and falling.

Prince winced as he tripped and fell ontop of you earning an annoyed huff from you as you glared up at him for of his weird behavior that he brushes aside like its nothing

"prince what the hell is going on? You're being weird today"

Prince looked down at you before letting out a loud groan before nuzzling his face into your neck feeling quite embarrassed

"I'm scared..of our future"

"why would that scare you?"

Prince picked his head up and had a slight pout before he glanced away being unsure of how to put his words together.

"you're my first real serious relationship..what if I screw up?"

"oh princey.."

Your soft cooing made him even more embarrassed and he groaned while laying his face in your chest.

"you're amazing and great and I'm just..me!"

You simply messed with his hair finding his remark to be pretty dumb but you excused it cause he looked far too cute when pouty.

"prince, I love you forever and ever you aren't going to screw it up"

After a few minutes of silence he popped up and hopped to his feet with newfound energy

"you're right! I mean I'm pretty great! I bet you wanna marry me cause I'm so handsome!"

Well he was definitely back to normal

Yuki

It honestly took you weeks to figure out yuki was upset cause he is the master of hiding his emotions. He never shows many emotions besides a smile when around you or a glare when around strangers.

of course he doesn't talk about his feelings at all either so you are blissfully unaware of how he feels, until he slipped up and finally broke.

You had come home from shopping when you noticed how quiet the house was which was normal but it had an eerie feeling to it.

"is he taking a nap? Hmm.."

You went to the room and opened the door to see yuki curled up in the bed, the light were off and he was pretty quiet so you assumed he was sleeping but as you started to get ready for a shower when a muffled sniffle made you turn back to yuki and you walked to him before softly moving the blankets only to get a slight sight of tears before he buried himself deeper into the pillow to hide.

"y-yuki?"

"go."

You sat on the bed now fully invested in helping him but you had a feeling you knew what was wrong, you softly rubbed his back seeing that he was sweaty and slightly shaking.

"you have a nightmare?"

There was silence before he nodded and you simply laid next to him facing his back and softly touching his back your gentle touch being enough to cheer him up.

When he turned to face you his eyes were puffy yet had bags under them, his hair was a mess and he was breathing harshly from fear.

"wanna talk about i-"

"no."

You gave a sigh and simply cuddled against him and closed your eyes, his body stiffened but quickly relaxed before he held you close and closed his eyes

"just rest then. I'm here now okay?"

"mhm.."

Yuki smiled as he buried his face in your hair taking in your scent and feeling his body settle against yours. He didn't need words of comfort or huge signs of affection this was all he needed..you being here helped him far more than any words can.

Salem

When salem breaks down it's heartbreaking and intense, he gets into these PTSD triggered panic attacks to the point where he just loses it.

You had left the house and left him alone, it was only for a few hours but when you came back the bedroom was trashed and salem was freaking out curled up in the corner.

"b-bad boy, very bad super bad..I've been so bad I'm so sorry sorry sorry sorry"

"salem!"

You rushed to him and sat on your knees infront of him seeing fresh bruises and marks on his face, he probably hurt himself again.

"salem, baby look at me"

"b-bad boy..bad boys deserve death"

He was definitely not listening and you totally needed to snap him out of it so you did the one thing you could think of...you slapped him.

It wasn't too hard but he definitely looked up at you in shock now focused on what you had to say.

"you're not in that dark place anymore salem, you're here with me and no one is dying okay?"

"b-but I'm a sinner, I'm disgusting, revolting, i-"

You cut him off by selling your lips against his roughly kissing him and settling him down.

When you pulled back you gave him a stern gaze not letting him spill anymore degrading words out.

"listen to me salem. I love you and all your weird quirks! I don't care what anyone else says you're my boyfriend and I love you more than anything okay?"

"y-your lips t-taste like sugar.."

With that he leaned forward trailing his tongue over your lips with a shaky laugh

"thank you, [y/n]"

[blackunicorn2020]

Watering My Well Being

This current relationship is full of anxiety and fear along with distrust. Shutting down has become a safe way for me to live. Due to the severe trauma exspearanced in adolescent years, and the overwhelming rise of anxiety or pain going through my day to day, I revert back to mental place that is safe. And the only time I've felt that safe was as a toddler. I was cute and received a lot of attention from my mom, I was fed warm/hot meals and dressed like a princess. There was love and lots of it though smiles and physical affection.

My partner turned 40 this January, I turned 26 last November. We met at work in a famous Los Angeles Italian restaurant where he was set up to train me. I strongly disliked him from the jump. He micromanaged and his tone was never correct enough for me. We all bussed our asses on busy nights and he is the best in the establishment so we celebrated over whisky, chianti and joints. He chased me and I let him, I played it cool the entire time. I am in a relationship with a person that is a huge trigger for me. Our codependency is becoming toxic, I don't trust that he is the man for the job, and this is all because of his drinking. He turns in to a *completely* different person-a evil vial aggressive force of destruction.

Picture a 5 year old on her birthday, she was born for the party that awaits her. The dolls she sleeps with and the friends and family to join. All the snacks and goodies she could ever have awaits as soon as she brushes her teeth and puts on a party dress. She can't stop moving and smiling and making sounds and noises with her lips and mouth. Burst of excitement in forms of jumping, wiggling, dancing, and spinning in circles. She can't stop singing little made up tunes or be still, twirling her finger in her hair. Now picture Trunchbull from *Matilda,* her gaining energy from suffering children how she genuinely hated if a kid was jolly, and did everything in her power to stop it from taking place in her sight. This is my partner when he drinks.

How do you tell someone that when they drink to the point they start to talk crazy and getting aggressive terrifies them? What if he tell me that the childish behavior that was once really cute and adorable is unbecoming and annoying. During the Covid-19 quarantine time we have been drifting apart, I lost my job almost 40 days ago. So I have been home on lock down going mentally nuts. And when I go nuts I keep it to myself, it takes days for me to come clean on what's going through my head or, to explain why my face looked the way it did. We live together. I moved in the end of summer last year.

With him being 40 I revert back to a childish place of being completely taken care of. When looking for a boyfriend I am attracted to older, well established, financially stable men. Can you completely take care of yourself? Do you have enough money to take care of someone else? Like a wife or children if that's in your cards. I desperately want to be taken care of. It is a real strong desire that I have. When existing in the element I feel at home, I feel conferrable and stress free like I'm living me best life. I have little to no anxiety, when in a stressful situation I don't feel the pressure to self harm, less self dialog, mental stability and physical comfort in the safety of it all.

My partner pays the rent in a rent controlled building and utilities, he buys the food and house supplies, takes care of the cannabis medical supply weekly, and tampons monthly. I am really blessed. I have little to no money when pay day comes. I owe and pay child support on top of paying back money borrowed and bills that are past due form having my own apartment last year. We don't drive, so I pitch in for Ubers, wine, food, and other things when we go out. My $984 before taxes every 2 weeks including cash + credit card tips is nothing to his $1,100 after taxes a week. My money is to be saved he says so I can have a apartment of my own soon.

I was evicted from my Koreatown apartment. It fucked my credit and now I'm playing catch up and repair woman. I kept the apartment after leaving a abusive relationship the big victorian 2 Bedroom 1 Bathroom was mines to find a new roommate to pay half the rent with. I had gotten pregnant again and I just knew I was going to do something stupid with suicidal thoughts. I missed out on a months full time shifts gagging or vometting every 5 minuets dizzy, very low energy, and just the most physical pain and discomfort. I was the maitre d in a very popular Italian establishment so pushing through work with these kind of symptoms is more of a health code violation as l like to call it. Rent got bagged up paying only half for months. Then my roommate moved out after a year because her and her new boyfriend wanted to move in together. Going on to packing up my apartment putting everything out side for the community to have (& they took it all... yessss) that I could not pack to have ready for Make Space to pick up. I was mentally relapsing *hard.*

I rented one of my best friends living room futon before moving in with my partner now. We had a blast, for them to be a married couple we all feel like siblings when hanging out, staying up late watching Cosmic Discloser eating popcorn and drinking red wine. There too I felt safe, I felt loved and cared protected. It was stable, I had a job, paid my rent and always had a place to sleep. I wasn't dating for a while because I believed I didn't deserve to once I got evicted. Just like millions of Americans right now I am waiting till the economy is back up in runny to apply for a job again. I have been working in the Food & Beverage industry for over 10 years now and we are all being heavily effected right now.

My partner asked me if I regress. I said no because I was ashamed, I felt like a child in trouble once again like someone seen me pick my nose and eat it. Because I am so interested about my trauma and the mind I looked it up. Among this one I do suffer from many other forms of behavior and psychosocial disorders, I identify with a lot and its scary and amazing. I know that I am not the only one going through these feelings so it make me want to look and search more. To find out the when, who's, why, and how's. I wanna know why I am the way I am, how I got this way so that I am able to reverse it. How to get out of my head...

If I am not suppose to be in a relationship with a 40 years young man then Universe, let a sista know! All the anxiety I have is not only for myself but for my partner too. Dose he want more, dose he want to get married, adopt a baby, dose he ever wanna live anywhere else, what dose his dream home look like, political views, universal views, do you morally believe in good or evil. He deserves joy and freedom just like me-like anyone else. And as I seek these answers I don't like what l find. I find that we want two completely different lives. We live in two different worlds. I love him and that hurts me, my love is what I stay. I feel cared for and wanted even when its rough. I stay rough because a part of me feels like this is the best partner I can gain in a relationship. These are the best days. The battle between ungratefulness and self worth continues. I never know if i am settling or being ungrateful. The craving of acceptance and unconditional love is finding out who l am and how can she be loved.

I know my triggers. Not all of them but enough to know what will send me into relapse. The sounds, smells, people, places, and events. The most important thing is l am aware of the work that needs to be done on me. She knows that she can't do it successfully on her own, she knows that this requires money and resources that she dose not have right now. She knows she's a survivor, but she is dangerously eager to live to explore, to no longer live in slavery of her trauma only having to search for more coping practices. To have the privilege to take time not worrying about money or bills as an obstacle to get the help she needs. To have absolutely no excuses. The courage it takes to stand alone, stay up late, cry, open up about the things she pretends never happened. To get away from it all retreating to a safe place where she can fall completely apart emotionally, visiting those places that she brainwashed herself to believe never existed.

[sleepylioncub]

"

Feeling the hot air from Chaurmine’s lingering irritation and frustration, you’re reminded of encountering him out in the wastes; he cooled off when calming down, which swiftly happened after an orgasm.

You delicately bring up his rising body heat, wondering how dangerous being in such a state for long can be. You imagine that could get unhealthy if he doesn’t release the stress heating him up.

Chaurmine raises a brow, glancing down at an empty, sweating glass; the ice having melted a while ago and now sits as a shot of water, tinted with traces of the drink it held. “I’m fine… Out in the wastes there, that was the hottest I’ve been, I think. And that was with the pink slime those bugs smeared on me; must have been some aphrodisiac or something,” he states as he looks back to you, an odd look on his armored visage, “So right now there’s nothing to worry about. Are you suggesting that we…?”

You nod and, with a nonchalant shrug, add how distraught he seemed out in the wastes. You’d rather not seem him in such a state again, if you can help it.

Chaurmine leans back in his seat, his features softening, before breaking into a lecherous grin. “Well, uh, thanks for the concern. Though a better place to cool off after heating up would be my ship,” he growls, trying to sound seductive.

Chaurmine moves out of the booth, stretching as he and his empty seat groan in relief, and motions towards the exit, “C’mon, we have better places to be.”

You do much the same, stiffly stretching once you’re standing out of the booth. Once that’s done, you follow Chaurmine out of the bar. After several long minutes walking along the landing bay, still quite far from your own ship, you note that you’re passing by larger and larger vessels.

“You’ve never seen a saurmorian ship before, right?” he grunts, snapping your attention back to him, “Well if not, let me warn you, our spacecrafts are known for two things; they’re durable as fuck, and they’re big.” He punctuates this with a jerk of his snout towards the ship you’re now standing before.

Well, it is big. With its thick, blocky hull girding its triangular shape, you wonder how the mammoth thing can even fly, let alone be piloted by a single person. Though faded and scratched, you can still clearly make out its matte black finish trimmed with chrome. Two massive cannons hang from the bottom of the ship near the middle. At the prow of the space vessel, you see the words ‘Vigilantus Gemma’ in the same matte black as the trim, though without the same wear and tear; it looks more recent.

Chaurmine leads you up the swiftly lowered ramp up and into his ship, giving you your first look at what he must call home; in contrast to its blocky hull, the ship’s interior is made of round, concave walls, giving it a more airy feel. Though quite spartan, you’re sure you see a large workshop at the bottom of a flight of stairs, many weapons and other tech strewn about in pieces.

A sudden punch to your shoulder forces a grunt out of you, and you turn to see that armored, reptilian visage grinning down at you mischievously. “Yeah, tour’s over. Bed’s this way,” he growls, leading you to a surprisingly cozy room, given the airy feel the rest of the ship gives. A glance around the place shows rather average furnishings, aside from what must be his bed; looking more like a soft beanbag with a heavy frame. Seeing your look, Chaurmine gives a shrug before explaining, “My kind essentially sleep in beds of sand; comfortable for the scales. But I’ve found that most in the galaxy don’t, so I had to get a covering that, uh, my scales wouldn’t tear apart.”

Standing next to the sand-bed, Chaurmine removes the few pieces of armor he has, letting them hit the floor with a hard thump. Since his crotch was basically the only thing covered, that’s where your eyes are drawn to, now that he’s fully bare; his large balls hang low, the thick but supple reptilian hide a rich amber, and his monstrous cock droops out if its sheath, half hard. The ribbed, onyx-black shaft pulses and grows in the fresh air, its blunt tip bobbing. The tin lizard crosses his arms over his muscular chest, heavy tail swaying excitedly behind him, “So rad, what do you wanna do?”

“Well, I was thinking; our lives seem to have plenty of lively and vigorous moments. Why not have a more relaxing time, just the two of us? Maybe a certain half kui-tan getting pampered by a walking space heater?” you suggest seductively. Your tail twiches nervously as Chaurmine raises a brow at the request.

“So what you’re saying, is that you want me to do all the work,” he teases, a grin splitting his armored snout. Not really caring for a response, he slowly turns you around with a scaled hand, his other one pawing at your bare skin. With your back to him, Chaurmine wraps a heavy arm just under your manly, rippling chest, and pulls you against him, careful not to grind your Atma Armor Mk. I, undershirt, and plain panties against the edges of his hard, heavy scales. With a pleased huff, his hot breath billowing down against you, he runs a hand through your neck-length hair; his scale-claws feeling like a warm comb as they caress your scalp.

Reveling in the heat and continuing affections, you reach up to Chaurmine’s bestial visage, tenderly rubbing his armored jaw, your pre-slicked, red shaft pulsing excitedly as your pussy flushes in arousal between your thighs.

You let loose a sigh as you relax against his surprisingly comfortable body; almost as if he were a sun-kissed stone, feeling warmer every moment, not a mass of hard muscles and metal scales. Gravity shifts as, at the sound of heavy scales scraping together, Chaurmine sits on his previously neglected bed, the thick cushion groaning in protest with you now held in his lap. The soothing heat of his scales against your skin is exquisite, and the lizard is quick to loop his arms under yours and place his scaled hands above your manly, rippling chest, clinging to you tightly. Already captivated by the virile brute, his claws gliding along your collarbone, your only reaction to the feel of his armored snout against your neck is to pull him harder against you.

Chaurmine gives an amused huff and a snort, taking a moment to indulge in your essence. His black canine-like tongue darts out to lightly brush the nape of your neck, and he rumbles happily as the next, more insistent, caress of his tongue draws a deep moan out of you. Before long the scaled titan is contentedly lapping along your neck, turning your face this way and that, virtually purring as your arms slip from the grip they had on his face to hang at your side. All the while the lizard absently grinds his turgid shaft against your crotch, your oozy pussy coating the thick cock in girl-cum as your extra-knotty dick bobs with every movement and your large balls lightly bump and bounce on top of the brute’s ribbed length.

After what feels like a blissful eternity, Chaurmine deems you clean with a final slurp along your jaw. You laugh lightheartedly at his enthusiasm, only to yelp as his claws scrape down your immense chest. He starts toying with your buds, and your body wants to writhe from the stimulation, but his hot scales soothe your tense muscles; instead you shudder lightly in his grip, jerking suddenly with every tug and pull of your nipples. “Gentle… You were supposed to be gentle,” you moan, your bovine tail twitching to the rough sensations as his hard nose presses against your neck, taking another deep draught of your scent.

He freezes, no longer mauling your immense chest. “Yeah… sorry,” he whispers, smooth scaled lips brushing against your skin. In a surprising display of dexterity, Chaurmine slowly lays the both of you along his strange bedding, both arms still wrapped around you. Satisfied, he runs a hand down your six pack, his claws grazing your skin so lightly it actually starts to tickle. Gliding lower, his hand moves to your crotch, and he wraps his scaled fingers around your tool, his grip a little unsure. “I’ve, uh, held very few cocks. So bear with me…” he bluntly admits, his hand treating your shaft to shy strokes and caresses, “Starting to see the appeal, though.” His smooth scales feel warmer and warmer against your cock, and as he gets more familiar with your penis he often slathers the head in your leaking pre-cum, drawing deep moans from your core. He even probes your cock slit, lightly teasing the sensitive flesh. Your two large gonads receive similar attention whenever his touch reaches your sheath. His warm and slick hand on your sack cups the churning orbs, as if weighing them. Meanwhile, his own virile cum tanks virtually slosh to every movement in sympathy. Your jaw clenches in concentration, eager for more of the slick reach around but not wanting it to end, grunting as the titan’s hand bottoms out with every thrust. Just as you are reaching that glorious peak, breath ragged and body tense, he lets go of your throbbing cock.

He quickly zeroes in on your clitty, the lizard’s fingers teasing your clitty as he runs them along your mons. Moans slip from you at his touch, your lower lips wedged between his girl-cum-slicked digits. You suddenly jolt, half in alarm and half in pleasure, when two of his sharp scale-claws curve and dip into your inhuman slit; the grip he has on its outer folds is delightfully smooth. Writhing and whining in his arms, you’re thankful that his claws are apparently too wet and lubed up by your girl-cum juices to cause harm or discomfort; instead, his claws and scales have just enough of an edge to stimulate your inner walls with the most lascivious friction. On the verge of a toe-curling high, you cry out in distress when he slides out of your zil-twat, the mind blowing friction gone as he brings his girl-cum sheened fingers to his rapacious tongue, rumbling happily as he licks himself clean.

“Fuck… It’s time to fuck,” he pants, overexcited from exploring your body. Shifting so both armored hands cling to your curvy hips, he draws his dripping, xeno-dino cock back so his blunt tip bumps into your black and gold pussy.

You feel him tense up, using his grip to pull you tighter against his blunt head as he grinds against you. “Relax, rad, and I guarantee you you’ll enjoy this,” he sultrily breathes, his words almost hot enough to feel like flames licking at your neck. His hot breath, steamy atmosphere, warm embrace; all these have made you pretty relaxed already, but you let out a sigh and give him a wiggle of your rear anyways. This seems to satisfy the metal lizard, and he abruptly thrusts, your breath catching as he enters with a wet pop.

You cry out in shameless ecstasy, your body gleefully accepting the deliciously thick kind of shaft it’s been made for; your cunt clinging tightly to the obscene penis as if it were a perfectly made custom glove, your stretched inner walls pulsing along its length. Chaurmine rumbles appreciatively as his scale-studded sheath presses and wrinkles against your succulent slit.

You move a hand to your washboard six pack, softly gripping the bulging outline of his fat cock against your skin, and gasp as you feel - and see - the titan’s blunt head lurch and throb at your touch.

Deciding you’ve adjusted to his ribbed shaft, Chaurmine begins giving slight, almost delicate thrusts, gradually drawing more and more monstrous girth out each time, your gasps growing louder with his intensifying rhythm. It almost feels like he’s counting each fat rib on his penis, withdrawing one by one. You stifle a laugh with a lip bite and a moan, your pleasure headed towards an immense peak as more and more cock is repeatedly thrust into your cunt. Even as things grow heated, your wide hips writhing to match every thrust, Chaurmine seems to remain focused on your pleasure as he pants searing breath against your neck; a large hand catches you by surprise, moving from your side to your crotch.

You moan with abandon as he flicks a claw past your button, pale pink skin glistening with a growling layer of sweat from a coiling heat building with each thrust and grind against your most sensitive flesh. Your cunt contracts excitedly, milking Chaurmine’s monstrous shaft for his strong seed, and fill your womb to the brim. His armored hips thrust a touch faster, metal scales smacking wet and loud against your butt, but maintains enough thought to diddle your button, ignoring your jouncing cum-dribbling, bulgy dick. He seems to be waiting for you to give in first.

You do exactly that.

Gasps and moans slip from your lips, legs thrashing as your overcharged nerves send bolts of bliss up and down your body, setting off the tense heat coiled tight around your core; your body tensing, your furry arm absently swings back to grab onto Chaurmine’s armored muscular ass and you throw your head back as if to scream.

But all comes out is a surprised gasp as Chaurmine wraps you in his arms, clutching you softly but safely as he all but stops his thrusting. Wrapping a heavy arm around your six pack, he holds you close to his hot scales, ignoring your orgasmic writhing against his grip. At the same time, his other hand cups the chin of your face, and affectionately runs his wide, black dog-like tongue along your skin, lapping up the glistening sweat.

As you pant, coming down from your high, you frown. Did he just… ? You were just over that glorious peak, why would he-

“Relax, rad,” he hums, still washing your upper body, “We’re not done yet. Just. Relax.”

With a calming breath, you do your best with his iron-hard shaft still throbbing in your depths. His hot grip while his tongue lavishes your skin does help, though.

Before you know it, Chaurmine is tenderly thrusting into you again, his tongue now caressing just behind a ear with the occasional nip. Though not as intense of a peak, your still-sensitive nerves quickly have you at a luscious edge once more; your hand still clasped onto the titan’s ass, otherwise you remain much more lax. Your ‘nuki-dick remains at full mast, however; leaking cum with every thrust.

You gasp, the fat cock spreading you wide, grinding against your tight walls, hits that spot. Swooning as the renewed inner heat boils over, you all but cream yourself silly on that juicy shaft, streams of girl-cum running down into the lizard’s studded sheath. You can’t help but shudder with each luxurious contraction.

Chaurmine hums, continuing to thrust even as your pussy massages and milks his alien dino-cock and you twitch nervelessly in his grasp. Just as one climax tapers off, another is hot on its heels, and another after that; Chaurmine keeps a steady pace as he plays your limply writhing form like a fiddle, fucking you from one warm, luscious high to another. All while lavishing gentle but insistent licks wherever his black tongue can reach.

Mercifully, after a few more orgasms, Chaurmine decides to end it, growling as he thrusts one final time into your pussy. His bloated, sloshing sack jerks, potent seed being pumped from his cum tanks. You moan as you feel his fat, iron-hard shaft twitch and flex in your depths, practically stirring your insides on its own as his pent up load distends his cum-vein, the bulging ribs along his length almost pulsing with the titan’s powerful heartbeat. Your breath hitches as his thick and hot cum surges into you, flooding your pussy while he holds you still.

Soon, your six pack starts to round out, and you pant and sigh at the sensation. As his own pleasure comes to an end, he pulls his monstrous cock free and aims his last blast to coat your shaft, large testes, and exotic pussy in his hot seed, while the rest oozes out of your soaked, black and gold cunt.

To your surprise, Chaurmine wraps both arms around you, and his armored snout softly presses into the nape of your neck. You signal your readiness to part, only for the lizard to growl and clutch you possessively. “You had your time, rad, now this is mine,” he rumbles while rubbing his snout along your masked face, softly pinning your head against a pillow in covetous affection.

Well, you are pretty worn out, and the warmth encompassing you is incredibly soothing. Would you rather leave, or stay with the lizard for a while?

With a contented sigh, you melt into Chaurmine’s warm arms as you both bask in the afterglow. As you both doze off, he continues to rub his snout along your shoulders, neck, and masked face with affectionate caresses. You absently moan whenever you feel his teeth poke your pale pink skin with soft bites and nibbles.

This continues for what feels like a blissful eternity, luxuriating in the steamy and surprisingly tender treatment from the cuddly lizard. At some point he even turns you around to face him, tilting your face back to lavish you with soft licks from collar bone to jaw; he ends up washing this side of your neck just as much as the other, his chest rumbling happily to every moan and sigh you make.

Eventually though, time catches up, and Chaurmine sits upright, saying that he has things to do and it’s time to part. You give a heavy sigh, reluctant to release your arms from around his neck. If only-

You let out a yelp as Chaurmine abruptly stands, holding your weight while your feet and your bovine tail kick, thrash, and flail for a grip. You laugh with mirth as his stomps take you to the ship’s crew showers.

" From T.I.T.S