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A while back, I wrote a story about Fitz and disability—specifically, the mental struggle it would take for him to use a cane for his limp. It's called:

Flashback, Page 319: [Fitz] hated that word. Vulnerable. Even if it was true.

It's 909 words long and deeply personal to me. I'm very proud of it. If this is an experience you know or wonder about, or if you simply like pieces about the elvin culture and mind, I would love to share it with you.

“How would you have felt if I refused to wear a nexus after almost fading away?” Sophie screwed her expression tighter, like it was the last thing holding her together. Fitz winced. “It’s not the same. I’m not going to disappear. I can handle it.” “And I couldn’t?” The words slammed into the conversation, forcing it to a halt. . . . This is a story that is part narrative, part in-universe text, woven together into the story of the deceptively simple choice faced by Fitz Vacker after his injury: Whether to use a cane. Come with me, and maybe together we can discover more about the elvin world—and what it means to step out of the old, and into the new.

Here's the link again.

P.S. This story was a gift for @worldsunlikemyown and inspired by art by @aurenflare. Thank you to both of them.

#fanfiction #fitz vacker #sophie foster #kotlc recursive exchange 2025 #stan fitz vacker or perish #worldsunlikemyown #aurenflare #pinned post

hi this is @worldsunlikemyown here (too lazy to log into my other main) but just thought i'd let you know i've started an anti-strieefe song. i won't sing it since i don't want to put my voice up here but it is coming trust me

YIPPEE!!!! i was going to write one myself and then get dirt on katie and use that to blackmail her to record it but this seems much simpler

#asks #worldsunlikemyown #anon #<- for tagging purposes #maybe i would sing mine if i could find a suitable voice filter that would disguise my voice but still make the song like. listenable #keefe would not like me and i don't like him

hate your lover, love your hater, and be studied by her friend: pt.3

The next morning, Stria woke up to the sound of twittering birds, and felt incredibly positive about the day to come.

Then she saw that she had several messages from Keefe lined up on her phone, and shoved that thought right back into the hopeful recesses of her mind from which it had dared poke its head out.

I'm fictional?! he'd written, at what was 3:26am for her. How can I be fictional?! I'm a real elf!

'Unfortunately,' Stria muttered, and kept reading, brushing a strand of dark hair which had come to rest on her face as she tried hard not to think about Keefe-Pinocchio parallels. And HOW does Shannon Messenger, whoever that is, know about me? Do other people hate me? Do they like me? Where do I meet them?

'He's a hazard to society,' said Stria, thinking about the horrors of the Pinterest fandom finding him. Then she typed: I've already told you that don't know how Shannon accesses you, and I don't think it would be good for humans at large to find out you're real, so you can put that thought aside forever. But the truth is that she accesses Sophie more, so you can rest assured that she's infringing on her privacy more than you are—though the bar is quite high, I'll admit, so she's doing well by some metric. Now, please do not bother me until you've read the entirety of my document, if at all. Actually, I'd love it if you never bothered me at all, thanks very much.

She was going to keep all of her unwilling conversation with Keefe to evenings, she decided. If she could schedule arguing hours, then she could schedule this too.

'He said what?!' Katie asked, tilting her head to look at Stria with what could only be termed 'delighted bewilderment'.

'He said, and I quote, 'I joke because it's hard for me to talk about serious things otherwise'. He really said it,' Stria told her.

Stria and Katie were sitting on a park bench with their coffees in hand (as they often did on mornings), watching people's dogs frolic in the grass and trying to pretend they weren't talking about a secret part of their world which really did exist. It could have been an idyllic meeting among friends if it hadn't been for Keefe Sencen. As usual.

'His denialistic tendencies!' exclaimed Katie. 'Oh, I'm going to ask him how he is later. I'm very much looking forward to what he says. I know you and I disagree about him, but we have similar talking points sometimes.'

'You can have him for all I care,' Stria said, looking up at the sky in bleakest despair. 'He's insufferable. To the point where I've decided to schedule looking-at-his-texts only in the evening—otherwise I'll lose it. I need to hate him with someone else. But I also feel like spreading the news 'KOTLC real' could get very inconvenient very fast.'

Katie sighed fondly. 'See, now that Keefe is real, studying him feels a bit awkward. But I can manage if I'm subtle about it? Actually: what if, in the interest of duel spirit, you put me in a group chat with him, and you can battle it out about the rant while I watch?'

Splendid. 'So long as you don't defend him,' Stria said, then laughed. 'Defend him in private with me—not in front of him.' At least she would have emotional support of some sort, even if the person supporting her liked Keefe. And while she'd almost given up hope that she could convince Katie to hate Keefe, recent events had taught her that there was always a slim possibility that unlikely things could happen.

'Oh thank goodness,' Katie murmured. 'I was really concerned for a moment there.'

Stria pulled her phone out and checked it—no messages yet! Glorious. It seemed that her theory about time passing slowly in the Lost Cities was right. Shannon would have fictionalized some things—perhaps time periods in the 'Forbidden Cities' was one of them?

She quickly made the group chat, added Katie and Keefe, told Keefe to talk to her in the group chat if at all, and then went on with her day.

Soon enough (almost too soon), evening came. Stria settled into bed, got out her own copy of her rant, and opened the can of worms that was her brand-new group chat. Sure enough, there were messages from Keefe, waiting for her.

I...I never actually thought about it this way, said the first message.

Stria did a double-take, and read on to find the following quote from her rant:

“‘Want me to push you?’ Keefe offered, laughing as Sophie jerked away from him ‘Come on, it’ll be fun—for me at least.’” (4) I have a physical copy of Everblaze, so I can list page numbers, and boy it didn’t take long for Keefe’s jerkish tendencies to show. He literally admits to Sophie that he’d find it fun to watch her be uncomfortable, which not only makes him completely selfish, but also somewhat cruel. [everblaze]

I mean, Keefe's message went on, I know she was scared, but she's Foster! Yeah, she's scared of things, but I'm always at least ten times more scared than she is. She's brave—far more brave than I could ever be.

Then came Katie's message: You think she's brave!!! That's very sweet. I mean, she certainly has fears and they're an important part of her narrative and should be acknowledged and respected, but it's great to know that you do actually see her bravery.

Nothing else, sweet relief. Stria began to type. The point isn't that you think she's brave. The point is that she has to be brave because you're an idiot and scare her far more than she already is. If you think it's fun to see her scared, then I hope you're aware that it's a terrible thing to do and that you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Not that she cared. Keefe's morality was his own, and if she could forget all of this and pretend that he was fictional, she would. But...he'd recognized that he'd done something wrong, which was more than she'd hoped.

Could Katie be right about him being able to improve?

A message. Keefe. I guess I thought selfishly—just like I always do. I guess I get why you hate me now? I mean, if I saw someone being this selfish then I might hate them too. It's just...you can't tell when it's you.

And there his obnoxious behavior was again. Stop the pity party, Stria told him. If you want to self-reflect, you can keep reading the rant or, you know, *actually* reflect without the aid of secondary sources. If not, please don't talk to me. You've already ruined my peace of mind, and I don't want to see how it can get worse.

Would you like me more if I was nicer? he asked then.

Stria almost tossed her phone at the wall, but stopped herself and replied: No?!!!! There is NO Keestria—and I'll have you know that that's a terrible ship name, by the way—that's ever going to happen. You cannot make me like you. Good for Sophie if you somehow become a better person than the utter idiot that you are, but I care not one jot.

Silence. Stria watched her screen in what she admitted was some anticipation. And then the message came: a quote.

“‘You let Keefe help.’ ‘Not by choice.’” (124) Sophie literally admits that she didn’t want Keefe to help her. But in typical Keefe fashion, he forces his way into everything, because he’s nosy and rude and can’t keep himself in line. I’ve said this already and I’ll probably say it again, but I wouldn’t mind this if Shannon treated it like a real character flaw instead of just a quirky little trait. I would be okay with it if Keefe realized what he was doing was wrong and apologized and made an effort to get better. But he never does. [everblaze]

She'd have told me if she didn't want my help, Keefe said.

Insufferable! You're insufferable, Stria wrote—may as well tell him. There is NOTHING that can be done to help you. See above: you never get better. Sophie telling you 'no' doesn't help because you don't listen to her, to the point where she's going to learn to simply acquiesce to your demands for secrets or involvement because she knows you'll force it regardless of what she says. AND you don't apologize. You don't improve. There's nothing anyone can do, and since you're real, I can't even blame Shannon anymore.

He still didn't get it, and Stria didn't expect him to. This was the person who made incredibly cringe-inducing potty jokes about every three seconds. This was the person who was allegedly an Empath but at best toneless (and at worst malicious) about reading a room before making his response. He wasn't going to understand because a random teenager who had until recently believed him to be fictional was telling him that he was a terrible person.

I guess I get what you mean, Keefe replied at last. I don't know how I'll fix it, but I'll try. I never *wanted* to do anything Sophie would have hated.

A short pause. And then:

Clearly you know me better than I know myself, Stria. If you keep telling me every time I mess up, maybe...maybe eventually I won't be so much of a mess anymore.

And when had she signed up to become his conscience? She could have written reams on how entitled a thought that was, but she still had the Unlocked rant to complete, and Unraveled—if it was about to drop, then she assumed that whatever was going on was during or post Stellarlune somehow, though Keefe's personality wasn't quite tracking with recent events—was about to drop. She also had a real life (which would have been far better had Keefe not existed in it) to deal with.

She replied: That in itself showcases what sort of person you are, but I don't have the time to dissect it yet. (Katie, if you want to take it, all yours.) I'm not going to replace the faulty voice in your head, you dolt. The rant is yours to use if you want, but please—if you have learned anything from this, STOP bothering me.

Keestria forever, remember? he said.

You will never learn.

Stria turned her phone off and slid under her sheets. She was done with him. She was done with this. She was unsure if she'd even be able to read Unraveled knowing what she now did.

Think about brown-eyed Vackers, she told herself. And with that valiant attempt to cleanse her brain, she fell asleep.

If you're picturing Katie as the third person in the chat with the love confession meme, then that's what I'm picturing too. Except this is more like two scientists locked in a room with their test subject.

I'm vaguely contemplating turning this into a chatfic since the lines of regular prose are starting to become scant. But they'll probably start appearing more soon so I won't unless you'd rather see it as that than as anything else.

This is also where the actual plot of Keefe self-improvement starts, so it may be where you start hating the direction of the story. But I can promise that there will be no actual Strieefe whatsoever. Part 4 coming whether you request it or not because I'm attached now :)

Also fun fact: the entirety of this fic (at least up until now) has been written straight into your askbox because I cannot fathom writing (not)strieefe in an actual document.

Until next chapter!

— @worldsunlikemyown/meta anon

part one, part two. also a quick note that this was sent to me before unraveled's release (though i'm sure if you've already read the fic, you gathered that). so. i don't know where i was going with that actually lmfao. but i guess nothing in the fic could be influenced by unraveled, not even subconsciously. anyway

#keefe would not like me and i don't like him #anti strieefe fanfic #<- why not #hate your lover love your hater and be studied by her friend #worldsunlikemyown #asks #kotlc #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #meta anon #anon

hate your lover, love your hater, and be studied by her friend: pt.4

For almost two weeks, no word came from Keefe.

On one hand, Stria was understandably relieved. For the first night in the last few days, she went to sleep without Keefe on her mind, and thus found herself more relaxed. In all good conscience she couldn't forget about his existence, since it was so very...worldview-breaking, but given that he wasn't pestering her anymore, she could certainly ignore it. As days went by without his messages, Stria started to hope. Maybe he's cut off contact for good and I can move on with my life in peace, she dared think. Maybe I'll even be able to read cawtulk again without fixating on the fact that they're real. She'd never be able to fully ignore it, of course—no one would. But maybe she'd be able to set it aside.

Of course, such an optimistic situation could hardly last. One fine evening, when the groupchat she'd made all those days ago on a whim had been buried under an onslaught of more recent texts, only some of which were Katie being concerned about Keefe's well-being, her phone pinged. Stria reached for it absently, opened the message, and then registered the sender: Keefe.

A direct message, too.

I've been thinking about it, he texted. A long gap followed.

Sadly, Stria replied, you haven't yet come to the conclusion that I don't want to be bothered and thus you shouldn't bother me. One can only dream that you'll get there one day.

But I NEED your advice! She could practically hear the whine, but truth be told, Stria had almost got used to it. It was unpleasant, yes, but the same sort of unpleasant as the noise of rattling pipes you eventually learned to fall asleep to when living in hastily rented lodgings. There were always worse problems, like musty curtains or light fixtures that mostly didn't work. I'm worried about Sophie.

Of course you are, Stria replied dryly, though she did feel a modicum of sympathy given that she quite liked Sophie during her good moments, and that she was real. No doubt you've gone and been nosy about it?

A moment passed. Then: I haven't, actually.

Stria actually gasped out loud.

So you're telling me you didn't actually go and pester her or try and take a reading of her or something like that?!!!! That was...progress! Astonishing progress, in fact. It was possible, of course, that Keefe was lying. But what motivation would he have? She knew he wouldn't seriously fall in love with her: Sophie was still alive, and so long as that was true, he would be devoted to her, and she would be safe.

Which meant that he most likely wasn't lying. Keefe character development! Actual! Development!!!! she thought. I never thought I'd see the day.

She looked back at her screen. I haven't taken a reading, no, he replied. The typing bubble flickered for a long few seconds, then disappeared again. I just...I noticed that I do this thing where I shove myself in with her where I'm not wanted.

It was no news to her. Stria stared at the screen impassively.

It was because of your rant, actually. There it was! Stria smirked in vindication. These bits, when we were going to Alluveterre:

“‘They’ll have to keep their faces very close together,’ Mr. Forkle noted. ‘Foster and I volunteer!’ Keefe shouted.” (59) Volunteering someone for a very uncomfortable experience without their permission, ah yes, my favorite. And yes, Dex does it too, and so do Fitz and Mr. Forkle. I’m not exempting any of them from the blame. I’m just saying that this was something Keefe unironically said (and he said it first, too). [neverseen] “He leaped from his pleisosaur to hers and prodded Sophie’s eckodon to swim away from the rest of the group.” (63) Shannon forgot to add “without Sophie’s permission and without giving any thought to breached personal boundaries” to the end of that sentence. Seriously, he just leaped onto Sophie’s eckodon with no sign she wanted him to, just because . . . he wanted to? Sophie’s wishes? Never heard of them. [neverseen]

And I've been doing that recently too—you must have read it or whatever. On the island?

Of course—while Stria hadn't got to Stellarlune in the second part (or indeed to Unlocked, in which Keefe had grated on her even more terribly than he usually did), she could guess what he meant. Sophie had picked Marella, Maruca, and Fitz to come with her to Stellarlune, and found Keefe coming with her too. Without her having either chosen him, or included him in the deal with Vespera.

I've read it, she replied, begrudgingly appreciating the fact that he'd realized it on his own. What about it?

Well, it's been a while since that, and she still seems tense, he texted. We barely got away, and now...things have changed.

Stria wanted desperately to ask for spoilers, but she didn't. It wouldn't feel right without Shannon's writing style as an intermediary. And you haven't pried into her secrets, whatever they are?

No, he replied, but I want to ask. Carefully. Without probing or prying, just to see if she's alright. Because Sophie...she doesn't share, because she doesn't want us to take the burden.

That was in fact an interesting, well-considered point. Now look, began Stria, I'm not your couples counselor or something like that, nor do I care exceptionally about your love life. You should take this to Katie if you want sympathy. But if you're really so desperate for my two cents, tell her she can tell you but don't force her to. Given how much you usually force her, the gesture will probably mean a lot more than you think.

A beat of silence. And then: Thanks, Stria. I'll talk to Katie about it too. You've helped a lot, really.

The earnestness, the serious talking, was so un-Keefe that Stria almost started to wonder if his phone had been hacked into. Until: Bye, Hater-Girl.

There it was. Still the same Keefe. Just...emotionally maturing? Perhaps? With the evidence taken into consideration she could dare to hope somewhat.

Stria sighed, texted him a gruff 'good, now don't bother me', and went off to bed.

When she woke the next morning, it was to several enthusiastic messages from Katie, most with the word 'Keefe' in them.

She smiled, and started to read.

Part 4 is here! Just wanted to let everyone know that this fic will remain SPOILER-FREE FOR UNRAVELED for the most part, and anything spoilery will either be unintentional or a very mild hint/reference. Please don't try to go look for them if you haven't read it yet and don't want spoilers. Note also that I may or may not start hinting at my self-indulgent Book 10 predictions in this fic eventually :)

As for the reference to the end chapters of Stellarlune, I did not have access to a copy at the time of writing, and Keefe sort of shoving his way onto the Sophie-Marella-Fitz-Maruca team is only something I remember vaguely from having noted it in a fic I wrote about Vespera a year and a bit ago. If it isn't accurate, please do not come for my blood, and I would have loved to check it if I were able to.

Hope you enjoyed this, and part 5 will be written when this one's out, as usual!

—@worldsunlikemyown/meta anon (feels wrong to send this off-anon)

PS: The word count is now just above 5k, rant included. Do with that what you will.

parts one, two, and three as always

#keefe would not like me and i don't like him #hate your lover love your hater and be studied by her friend #worldsunlikemyown #anon #asks #kotlc #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #anti strieefe fanfic

in general, dedicated haters of a particular figure must be treated with caution as a primary source in terms of the impact they have on the accuracy of the character of said figure's reception as a historical figure (their hating can often be inaccurate). that said if keefe were to become a historical figure i would trust you completely with his reception. your hating of him has true and accurate grounds only (in regard to his character). keep on hating and keep on converting others to keefe hatred (you converted me 🫡)

in all seriousness, i think keefe will become a historical figure in canon. which would be really funny because now young elf kids will have to suffer through the keefe unit in elvin history and learn about his fights with gisela and stuff. so that will make him cry into his soup.

and yeah!!!! my hatred of keefe is so incredibly amazing and spectacular and perfect and flawless lmfao. i have never had a wrong keefe opinion ever i can be trusted on all topics keefe-related /lh

i will keep hating and hopefully i continue to convert people . . . thank you for you support . . .

#kotlc #anti keefe sencen #asks #worldsunlikemyown #konversion

hate your lover, love your hater, and be studied by her friend: pt.2

'I don't believe it,' Stria said, for what must have been at least the twenty-seventh time. 'I don't believe he exists. I don't believe any of it exists. But it does, and he does. How did Shannon find out about this? Wouldn't it be a global secret protected by three thousand organizations across the world? It should be on conspiracy theory websites, not in a middle-grade book series!'

She was sitting in a small cafe with Katie now, sipping at a milkshake as though it was the single thread she was holding on by. She may as well have been. Shannon Messenger knew world secrets. The Lost Cities were real. Keefe was real, and could now read about how Shannon had written him—how he was. (At that last thought, Stria brightened. That was a second thread to hold on by.)

'He's just like Shannon described!' replied Katie. 'Or at least, looks like that. I'll text him and let you know more. And he'll probably get back to you about your rant. Tell me everything once he does—his responses will be very enlightening.'

Stria scowled, and muttered, 'I hope that rant incinerates him with the power of my hatred.'

Katie shrugged. 'It might. Or it might inspire him to become a better person. It's possible.'

Stria didn't think it was, but she'd lost faith in the statement 'it's impossible' by now, so she glumly accepted that this was the life she lived, and went home. At least there she had things to do which would stop her from thinking about things like 'how did Shannon find out about their characterization' and 'why do I believe this' and 'why is this believable' and even the inevitable 'am I in a dream or fictional reality'. She really did not have the time for this.

That night, Keefe got back to her. Unfortunately.

Hey, Hater Girl?! he texted at 9:38pm. Even just the nickname was enough to make Stria's blood boil. She couldn't believe he existed. I'm only one heading ('Keeper', whatever that means) into your rant and I'm seriously starting to believe that you're spying on us. How do you know our secrets? Our conversations?! You weren't there for any of them. I thought humans didn't even know that elves existed?

I have my sources, Stria replied. Despite herself, she couldn't help but feel excited about Keefe reading her rant. With luck, her hatred would destroy him on the spot. Or at least confuse him and leave him dissatisfied. And you're one to talk about spying. I know very well how you take the secrets of anyone who's in touching distance—and sometimes not even that.

What do you m— Keefe had to have hit send accidentally, because the message stopped there. This was followed by:

“Keefe nudged Dex’s arm, then grinned at Sophie. ‘Interesting.’ ‘What?’ Dex asked. ‘Which one’s your gift, Dex?’ Sophie interrupted. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what Keefe was going to tease Dex about.” Here we mark the start of Keefe using his empathy to learn people’s secrets without their consent. He feels not a hint of remorse for it, and instead uses it as a way to breach people’s boundaries and embarrass them. As a lot of people have already said, Keefe is the primary reason empathy should have similar restrictions on it to telepathy. [keeper]

He was quoting her rant at her.

Stria wasn't sure how to feel about that.

I can't help but feel things? It's my ability, Hater Girl! he said.

Oh, that was rich. You *reached out* to touch him, she typed. That was deliberate, and while Shannon lets you get away with it, I definitely won't, and your legislative system shouldn't either. Then again, if you're real, then I'm not sure about how much choice she has over characterization.

WHO IS SHANNON?!!!! came the response, not a moment later. Why do you know about us? I can tell you're hiding something. okay? And all Empaths do this?! If you know so much about us, you should know that people get officially examined by Empaths just like this.

And who gave you the right?

Keefe didn't respond for a solid minute.

You know, he said at last, no one would tell me things if I didn't act like I could find out. That's how things work here. I don't know how it is with humans, but I *know* no one's going to tell me things otherwise.

He was a numbskull. He really was like this. Shannon had not exaggerated. Stria wanted to strangle him there and then, even though he wasn't even in the room. That's because they don't *want* to tell you those things! Do you realize you don't actually have a right to know all your friends' secrets?! And especially not the right to tease them about it if you can tell it's sensitive?!!! The example after the next one is of you actually being a decent friend, so don't tell me you don't know what you're doing. I haven't even sent you Unlocked yet.

What's Unlocked? Keefe asked. Stria wondered absently whether it had happened for him yet—if he had time to text random humans, and had light-leaped here, then the answer was most likely no. How'd that work, then? Had Shannon had visions of the future? Or maybe time moved differently in the Lost Cities. Stria would be willing to accept the latter.

And anyway, WHO is telling you all of this? This Shannon person? What do you mean by series? And THIS:

“‘Wow—you really sleep with this thing? I thought Fitz was kidding when he gave it to you when you were recovering.’ Sophie snatched Ella away [ . . . ]” Keefe continues to make fun of Sophie for her stuffed animal tendencies. You know, it’s possible to be funny and make jokes without actively tearing people down. But wait, you may say. Keefe shows some development later because he starts to sleep with his own stuffed animal! Doesn’t that mean he learned and grew? No, I would argue back at you. The issue is not actually that Keefe made fun of Sophie’s stuffed animal in particular. The issue is that most of Keefe's jokes actively revolve around making fun of someone and putting them down. And that never changes, even later in the series. This is simply one example. [exile]

I joke because it's hard for me to talk about serious things otherwise! And I find human things funny.

Stria wanted to incinerate him herself. For all Sophie was called oblivious, it was more than clear than Keefe was a far greater offender. Or worse—he knew what he was doing, and regretted nothing. As he'd find out from her rant soon enough. That's the only thing, the ONLY thing she has from her human life which doesn't have some sort of emotionally fraught memory attached to it! Stria told him. She can't sleep without it, and that's fine. It's not funny. Any time you rile people up for fun isn't funny. And that explanation about using jokes to cover things up is EVEN LESS FUNNY. This is one of the main reasons why I hate you to the core of my being and to the core of yours. Keep reading.

I don't think I can do more than the end of this heading, he texted. When Dex told me that he'd found a human 'website' where someone was hating me he didn't tell me how much! Like, wow, you're really making me feel like the Most Horrible Elf Ever. And you don't even know me. You don't even know me. I'm going to make you like me now. It will be Hater Girl and Keefe forever. Actually, what's your name?

You can call me Stria, Stria replied. And you *are* the most horrible elf ever. To me. Hope this helps.

Keestria forever then, he replied, ignoring her second comment. Stria took a minute to imagine hurling Keefe Sencen's blond-haired, blue-eyed, smirking, winking, unfortunately real self into the burning Sun. She imagined throwing Dex in too. If she'd disliked him before, then she hated him now only second to Keefe, for ruining her peace, sanity, and blissful ignorance.

But since she couldn't do that (yet), she decided to haunt Keefe's nightmares instead by typing: And if you want to know about Shannon, then Shannon Messenger is a human author who's passing your entire world off as a work of fiction in this world. As far as most of the world is concerned, you're fictional. I don't know how she has access to you and your secret moments, but that's how I know you. She's even written books from your perspective, so don't think you can hide all those thoughts. In fact, Shannon managed to make his thought processes look unreliable sometimes too, but that was unreliable narrating which Keefe didn't need to know about.

Stria smiled in satisfaction, sent the message, told Katie to meet her the next day to talk the entire matter over, and climbed into bed to fall asleep. As she turned the lights in her room off, she reflected that there was in fact a silver lining to the affair: at least the Keefe lovers on Pinterest hadn't found out about his very real existence yet. There was, after all, only so much she could tolerate.

Pt.3 on request (as before). Quotes are from the famous anti-Keefe rant. It's impressively long, and as I read it, more of it might feature in here. If anyone wants to come for my blood for 'Keestria', I'm just continuing Shannon's trend of including ship names in the books which most of the fandom doesn't use.

Also if it isn't too much trouble, I would love to know how you figured out that this was me, so please do tell (no pressure though)!

Non-anonymously but on anon for the bit,

— @worldsunlikemyown/the 'meta anon'

going to do this in backwards order. so there's a couple of things that helped me pin you down when you made part one:

#kotlc #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #asks #worldsunlikemyown #aka #meta anon #i'll tag this anon also. because why not #anon #hate your lover love your hater and be studied by her friend #keefe would not like me and i don't like him #mine

you know if strieefe was adapted to a musical your role would have a wonderful anti-strieefe number. i am actively working on this. watch out.....

OH ARE YOU???? DO TELL ME MORE

#and if strieefe was adapted to a musical number i might pass out. even katie (who IS a traitor to the sokeefe nation) wouldn't do that to me #keefe would not like me and i don't like him #worldsunlikemyown #asks

hi so this is not anti-strieefe but it's aldella. for medicinal purposes and palate cleansing. hope you like it <3

angst because what else. takes place while alden's mind is broken, so during book 2.

Sometimes, in the deepest recesses of her thought, Della had wished that Alden were dead.

There. She'd said it. Sometimes she'd found herself wondering what her life would be like without Alden Vacker. Found herself wondering what she could be if she wasn't bound to being a Vacker right along with her husband.

Now, she had her answer.

Outside, it was night-time, and the moon was clouded over. A soft breeze fluttered into the sickroom (Della couldn't bear to think of it in any other way, it was not a mausoleum despite the silence and her lonely presence), blowing the curtains about like the 'ghosts' she'd read about in human stories. As it brushed across her skin, its cold fingers sent shivers coursing through her.

Almost unconsciously, her hand in Alden's hand grew tighter.

'You must be happy now, somewhere,' she murmured to Alden's inert form. It was easier speaking to him this way, when he couldn't answer. 'You got the last laugh, after all. You got to fulfil my deepest, most secret wish.'

She'd told him once, that she'd wanted him dead. On the day when Alvar had come home with an infected cut on his arm and neither he nor her husband had been able to give her a straight answer. She'd known where he'd been, or at least suspected. And she wasn't fool enough that she did not know about humans and what could happen to them if their cuts were infected.

After that, they had not spoken for weeks.

'You hid from me, I spied on you, bu not for you. We were never perfect, were we?' she asked him. 'We were never perfect. Oh, we were good at playing happy families—better than anyone else.' Her voice broke a little, before she continued, 'But I don't think we ever trusted each other.'

And now, we never will.

For some moments, there was silence.

'I'll make you a bargain,' she said then, suddenly. 'I'll make you a bargain, Alden Vacker. If you wake up from this, if you wake up, and don't leave me alone to pick up the pieces of this mess, we'll be better than we were before. We'll tell each other everything. We'll stand on the same side. We won't keep secrets. We'll love each other like we should have—not like the twisted, rotten thing we let fester.'

She paused, and ran a soft finger over his face, tracing the curves of his nose and lips. 'Because no one's understood me quite the way you have, even if you never knew me as well as you should have,' she whispered, bending close to his lips. Sedated, he made no move. 'And I'd rather spend a thousand years pretending to be perfect with you than have to mourn you. Because I'm not so good at acting to pretend that I'd loved you, and certainly not good enough to hide that I had loved you.'

He said nothing. Of course not.

Della sighed, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Then, she continued her vigil in silence.

who is even doing it like them......

hope that's enough of a cleanser! sending on anon under the assumption that you will probably very easily guess who i am.

read this fic like sixteen times and now i am shaking and shivering. them . . .

#I'M GOING INSANE NOBODY SPEAK TO ME THIS WAS PERFECTION #asks #worldsunlikemyown #not even going to bother tagging this anon #kotlc aldella #aldella #kotlc alden #alden vacker #kotlc della #della vacker #kotlc aldella fanfic #aldella fanfic