#but what does it mean to do violence to what is nothing?

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Can we talk about how fcked up Charles can be sometimes? Can we talk about how Charles can sometimes be actually scary as a person? Like he can legit be nefarious sometimes, but those moments are not as talked about as Erik's warcrimes (aside from the holocaust visions from TAS)

girlfriend i promise we're all very aware about how wack charles xavier can be and i assure you his nefarious moments are talked plenty from what i run into. like outside of this inbox most times you breathe charles' name to someone they'll be prepared to start swinging

[vezpr]

corporal: ch 2 - expectations

SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ HEIAN ERA AU ☽☾ ONGOING SERIES ☽☾ AO3

☽☾ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: CH1: PUNISHMENT ▪︎ CH2: EXPECTATIONS

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You are such a menace that your father decides to offer your eternal servitude as a gift to the King of Curses.

Sukuna has not accepted such a tribute in years, more often opting to eat the young girls rather than put them to work, which is perfectly acceptable as far as your asshole dad is concerned.

Will the demon make an exception for you?

☽☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, blood and gore, violence, abuse, true form sukuna, eventual smut (still not yet), references to cannibalism, angst, I suck at tags

☽☾ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sodapop182 ; @moonchhu

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: CH: 3.5k TOTAL: 7.7k

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment something to that effect. But please put an age in your bio so i don't have to block you. lmk if I'm doing this right, I'm an absolute virgin and open to suggestions. Thanks for reading. 🖤

Tearing through the woods outside of the shrine, you don't think about your sister, this time. You don't think of your father or his men, your mother, nothing. No memories, pleasant or unpleasant, swim up through the ink of night as the trees claw at your clothes and skin. Your mind is eclipsed with a fear as hot and red as the fire in your lungs.

You have not known fear like this for a long time, perhaps ever. All the running that you did from your father and his men was done more out of spite than fear. You had certain expectations of them. You were familiar with their cruelty and the limitations placed on it by society, or by your mother, perhaps. You father was not a kind man, by any means, but his eyes softened somewhat when they looked at her. The only power that you had was that of being able to put them through their paces. Here, you did not even have that. The comfort of expectations does not exist for the monster at your back, no more than the limitations of ordinary men. 

So, you run, spurred by terror long after your rapidly depleting stamina should have forced you to stop. It feels like hours have passed when you finally come to a halt, hands on your knees, panting, muscles burning. Hyperaware of every sound, every sensation, even the trickle of sweat down the line of your back is enough to raise your hackles, but there is nothing but the ragged sound of your own breathing in the stillness.

As you try to slow your respirations, you ask yourself what it is you're so afraid of. Pain? You are overly familiar with pain. Your heart gradually slows as you come to the conclusion that Sukuna can only hurt you or kill you, just like any other man. Pain you can endure. And death? Well, if you are dead, then you won't be bothered, will you? You'll just be dead. What would wound you more is humiliation. Your mouth presses into a grim line as you ponder it.

Did the bastard confiscate your things and let you go, trusting that you would meet your own end in the forest without his help? Not the worst plan, you decide, as it occurs to you, for the first time, that you really have no place to go, no plan beyond running. Beyond escape. You've never had to plan beyond that because you've always been outnumbered, overpowered and dragged back.

Does he think you will return on your own? You scoff into the darkness at the thought. I'd sooner hang myself from one of these trees, you think to yourself as you look up at the branches, silver in the Autumn starlight. Still. Quiet. Unnaturally so, as if the earth itself is holding it's breath. Hiding. 

Even before you hear it, you feel it, looming large and lethal at your back. Larger than Sukuna, even. Much larger. It shifts it's enormous weight, rustling the leaf litter. As you peer over your shoulder, your eyes widen and your heart hammers against your ribs like you never stopped running. A reptilian chittering sound blooms out of the dark: a bony whisper, a rattlesnake kind of warning. The moon outlines it's dark shape in indigo, a moving mountain that tears trees right out of the earth as it moves after you. How you didn't see or hear it before is a mystery. 

Your feet slam against the shuddering ground with the slowness of nightmares as a scream claws it's way out of your throat. You don't make it very far before a root hooks your foot and sends you sprawling. A sickening snap followed by bright sparks of pain shoot up from your wrist as you catch your fall with your hand. When you look down to see splinters of bone jutting out of a ragged wound, a hysterical sob escapes your mouth. You clutch your injured limb against your chest as your heels churn at the dirt, propelling you backwards, too slow as the monster stops short in front of you. 

It is too awful to look at, a twisted amalgamation of drooling faces and colorless eyes shining with idiot hunger as it prepares to stuff you into its many jagged mouths. You dig your chin into your shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut and baring your teeth as you feel it's hot, putrid breath against your skin. Thick, black saliva drips into the dirt between your feet and burns it like acid, white tendrils of smoke rising from the bubbling pool.

The chittering sound rises again, like a demonic chorus of cicadas. Distantly, you realize the effect is created by all of those throats babbling at once. You find yourself too breathless to scream as it's clumsy teeth try to find purchase in the flesh of your calf, only succeeding in lightly scratching and slobbering all over it. Perhaps in frustration, its crying slowly rises in pitch, high and keening.

Then, there is another, quieter sound, that cuts the wailing short. It is soft like a whip cutting through the air before it cracks, like the hiss of lightning parting the sky before the thunder of it crashing back together. Crashing like the quivering weight that descends upon your lower body as the monster inexplicably falls to pieces at your feet. You blink owlishly at the dismantled pile of flesh, hardly daring to believe that it is truly dead, even as its quivering breaths grow still.

Your legs throb under the lifeless weight of it. It is impossible to drag yourself out from under it with your one good arm, so you resort to wiggling on your back in the dirt, removing yourself inch by excruciating inch. You haven't yet had the time, nor the prescence of mind to worry about what lurking horror might have so effortlessly ended the dead thing that pins you to the dirt. That mystery is soon solved for you when a familiar voice comes out of the dark behind you.

"Tch. Pathetic."

You cease your struggles and crane your neck back, pressing the back of your head into the dirt to meet Sukuna's garnet gaze. He leans against a tree, as if he can't be bothered to hold himself up, looking only vaguely interested in the scene before him. 

"Me, pathetic?" You spit, redoubling your efforts to writhe out from under the dead thing. "Was I not easy enough to kill? You had to sic your pet on me?" The thought had only now occurred to you, that Sukuna had unleashed this thing on you, but the notion already has your blood boiling with rage.

Sukuna snorts, "Not mine." His eyes leave you in favor of examining the corpse. "Hm. A grade two, this one," he mutters.

Your eyes follow his and you notice a jagged, black fang, about the length of your outstretched hand, lying in the dirt by your hip.  Glancing back to ensure his eyes are still focused on the monster, you stretch out your good arm and wrap your fingers around it. The edges bite into your fingers, but you clutch it like a lifeline, headless of the pain. 

"Well, do you intend to finish the job, or are you just going to stand there, blabbering nonsense?" You sneer, craning your neck to look up at him. 

His eyes snap back to yours and he smirks, lazily peeling himself away from the tree and stepping towards you. "So eager to die, arent you?"

He lifts the bulk of dead flesh away from you with one hand as he hooks another into the pit of your injured arm and drags you to your feet.

Gritting your teeth, you swing your good arm, arcing your makeshift weapon to catch him in the back, but he snatches your wrist away with yet another arm. Now, you are leaning awkwardly against his chest as he supports most of your weight. You legs are not as useful as you might have hoped. They burn painfully and buckle at the knees as the blood rushes back to your cramping muscles. 

He eyes the monster's tooth in your hand with mild interest. "You want to hurt me with that?" He asks with a mean grin. "Go ahead."

With that he lets go of you and takes a step back.  You cry out in frustration as your traitorous legs buckle underneath you and you land on your knees at his feet. He throws his head back and laughs as you snarl up at him and swing your makeshift weapon at his legs, which dodge your clumsy blows effortlessly. 

"For weeks you lived in peace with me and now all these theatrics, for what reason?" He muses as he steps this way and that to avoid your rageful attacks. It doesn't take long for him to grow bored of this game, and you are taken aback when he sinks to his knees in front of you. Even so, he towers over you so that you have to hyperextend your neck to see his face. His lower set of hands snatch you up around the waist while the upper pain pin your arms to your sides. You grunt at the pain in your broken wrist, but he takes no notice.

"I asked you a question," he snarls, holding you at eye level. 

He huffs when you only writhe in his grip and scream in his face until your throat is raw and you are too breathless to continue.

"Fucking feral little rat," he mutters. "Is it because I touched your leg?" He asks, eyes dragging the length of your body. 

You scoff. Of course it wasn't just that it's...

"Are you throwing a tantrum because I didn't ask permission? Hm? And what was the plan? Where will you go?" He cuts off your thoughts by echoing your own thinking from earlier. It has you subconsciously biting into your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Infuriating.

He smirks. "Just a spoiled little princess playing at running away. Well. Time to grow up, little girl, and realize that you will always belong to a man. Before, you belonged to your bitch of a father, and now, you belong to me."

No longer able to hold in your rage you shreik and slam your head forward in an attempt to split his smirking lips. Of course, he leans away and you only succeed in tossing your hair, drawing another cackle from his mouth. 

"You want to hurt me? Try, brat," he bellows to be heard over your shreiking as he presses his forehead against yours hard enough to bruise. The moment he releases your good arm you sink the oversized canine into his temple and drag it down, flaying his cheek. A second swing and his larger, upper eye is reduced to a wobbling jelly running into the bleeding wound. Slick with gore, the tooth drops from your hand and Sukuna slams you down on your back with enough force to steal the air out of your lungs. 

Then he is folded over you, hand on your jaw tilting your gaze to his wounded face. "Look at me," he instructs and your stomach lurches as the flesh bubbles and warps. Then it is takes its old, unmarred shape, as new and smooth as ever. You stare at it, blinking as if that brief interruption of sight might return it to ruin, as it was seconds ago. As if to dispel your disbelief another of his hands grasp your broken wrist, lifting your hand so that your fingertips brush his new skin. At the same instant, your injured joint transforms the same way his wounds had until it is new and free of pain.

Speechless you stare at your hand on his cheek until you realize that he is no longer holding it there. He leans in until his lips are nearly brushing your ear. "I can touch you however I like, whenever I like," he says, slipping a hand from your waist to trace the angle of your hip bone and the curve of your outer thigh through your ruined kimono. "I can break you and mend you, break you and mend you and never, ever let you die." His hand slips from your jaw to your throat where he squeezes briefly before, suddenly, he hauls himself off of you.

"So, brat," he says, standing over you haloed in the pink light of dawn, "if you are ever so lucky as to have me touch you again, try not to overreact."

All you seem to be able to do is slide your eyes stupidly from your healed wrist to his unblemished face until all the breath decides to leave your lungs at once. The sky, blushing with dawn and tattooed with skeletal branches, fades to black.

...

Emika, grinning, face tilted toward the dappled sunlight, laughter bubbling out of her throat. It is a musical sound until it changes, distorts into a horrible chittering, vacous and reptilian. Her mouth opens, impossibly wide, a poisonous womb that delivers a wailing many-faced blackness that swallows the world. Closer, the newborn horror leans in until all you can see is a single wet, red maw screaming its hunger and eager to feed on you. It is made of hunger and fear. Its tongue lolls out and begins to twist and warp. It pales and changes shape, grows four garnet eyes, a tattooed jaw, a laughing mouth. Sukuna's face leaning close to yours. "Look at me," he says, surrounding you, a universe that leaves you no choice. He is still laughing when he tilts away, falling out of orbit as gravity pulls your back into the dirt. He is replaced by a robin's egg sky seen in patches through the green leaves of spring.

Emika's face glides into view, a smiling autumn moon in the Spring sky.

Her bamboo sword taps your neck.

"Dead," she says.

Dead like the warrior she once daydreamed of being, with a katana on her back and a pretty servant girl at her side.

"Dead." She smiles, haloed in sunlight.

Your eyes blink open. Even as the nightmare fades you realize it holds too many parallels to waking life for comfort. Finding yourself suspended above the ground in an unfamiliar position, your body jerks, your legs inadvertently tightening around Sukuna's waist. He is carrying you like a child on his hip, his lower arm hooked under your backside while his upper one supports your back. Your chin rests over his shoulder, your cheek pressed into his neck. Finding this abhorrent, you squirm weakly.

"I can walk now," you mutter, but you are so tired. Your eyelids, leaden. 

"Walking has caused you enough trouble, wouldn't you say?" He chuckles, a sound that is becoming increasingly annoying. 

In any case, the dead weight of your body against his is enough to refute your claim. 

Your eyes flutter closed, head lolling against his neck. He smells of smoke, blood and earth and he is warm against you. The effect is like a sleeping tincture.

"I want to know," you mutter against his skin as you struggle against your rapidly retreating consciousness. "I want to know what is expected of me."

You are too exhausted to think of your statement as an acquiesence, but that is what it is. Sukuna is taking you back to the shrine and you are accepting it. Perhaps that is why he laughs. Your eyes pop open at the hateful sound and you hope that he does not discern the increasing tempo of your heart with the way that your chest is pressed into him. Wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Expectations," he says. "You can't live without them, hm? How, then, would you rebel?"

You clench your teeth. He is unbearable. You hate him. God, you hate him. But you are just so tired right now.

"I have no expectations of you, rat." He continues after a pause, although he thinks to himself that you are really more of a mouse, at the moment, as you go limp again with sleep.

...

When you wake again, from a long sleep that is blessedly dreamless, there is nothing to greet you but silence and the shrinking light of early evening. You lie for a moment on the futon, staring at the dark grid of ceiling in your chambers.

Under the thinning haze of sleep that still clouds your mind, a flickering flame of rage persists. When you look down at yourself, filthy with mud, blood, and mystery secretions from whatever that thing in the forest was, it grows brighter. Cast off and forgotten like a broken doll. You flex your healed wrist. Why does it make you even angrier?

I have no expectations 

You tear off your kimono and toss it aside, fuming.

Rat.

You tear the linens, ruined by your dirtiness, off of your futon and thrust them away to join your clothing on the floor.

"Maybe I will go around naked, then," you fume, stomping towards the door, but you stop there, losing your nerve. "Bet you wouldn't expect that. Bet you would find that you have some expectations after all."

spoiled little princess

"Maybe I will go around like this is my home and you are an unwanted guest," you hiss into the silence.

time to grow up and realize you will always belong to a man

You retrieve your dirty kimono and shrug into it, gathering the fabric loosely around your chest with one hand while you rip something clean out of the wardrobe with the other. The shoji door slams against the doorframe as you storm out of the room not bothering to close it. 

now you belong to me

Uraume and Baba look up from their work, picking vegetables for dinner in the courtyard as you tear across it without sparing them a glance. You make quite a sight, blood-streaked and furious. 

"He'll be getting his kicks with that one for quite some time, I'll say... yes," Baba croaks as her milky eyes track your movements.

"Baba!" Uraume scolds.

"It's the truth," Baba crows. "It is!"

...

The steaming water of the hot spring soothes the aching muscles of your legs. This makes encroaching on his territory doubly satisfying, even if he, being a morning bather, in your limited experience - doesn't find out. You close your eyes and hold your breath, sinking to the bottom on your knees. Your fingers rake through the matted mess of your hair, breaking loose the dirt and dried blood. You stay under until your lungs burn and then burst to the surface with a sharp inhalation. 

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

You startle at the sound of Sukuna's voice booming over the soft gurgling of the water. He is standing at the opposite end of the spring, kimono pooled around his feet, hands frozen at his waist in the middle of loosening his hakama. 

"Whatever I want, since you have no expectations," you retort, having recovered quickly from your surprise.

He snorts. "Alright."

You glare at each other through the rising steam.

You are the first to avert your eyes when Sukuna resumes undressing, unceremoniously dropping his hakama. 

Your back is turned and you make a point of staying submerged to the shoulders as you make your way to the edge of the pool. You movements increase in urgency, heart thumping faster as you hear him splash into the water behind you. Unwilling to let him see your bare skin, you pull your clean kimono into the water and put it on while still submerged. 

When you drag yourself over the lip of the pool in your dripping robes, he is laughing. Your skin erupts in goose flesh that cannot be entirely attributed to your soaked clothes and the chill in the air. Although it pisses you off to no end, you try to at least appear unperturbed. Chin held high, you make it a point not to look at him as you march back toward the shrine, as if he is beneath your notice. You hope he feels it.

"Come here, rat." 

You pause, your back still turned to him.

"I said, come here." He repeats.

Vacillating between the desire to defy him and the desire to seem unafraid, you settle on the latter and make your way back to the water's edge. There is a deliberate slowness in your movements, to show that you are in no hurry to obey him.

Sitting on the lip of the pool, you let your calves dangle over the edge, lazily treading water. 

"What do you want?" you hiss, meeting his crimson gaze.

[sili-redwing]

you ever just think abt Them

the mall video, the way moon followed sun, the way he immediately decided the yellow yogurt dispenser was for sun because it had his colors, the way he gave him a coconut popsicle because he wanted sun to be able to try it as well.

the way he knew sun wanted to buy things, and immediately gave him all the coins he found in the mountain so he could buy whatever he wanted. ("Moon! I want to try everything, Moon."

"Okay.")

the laboratory video, with how excited he was to show the things he made off to sun, the way he allowed sun to use them on him in turn for the fact he used them on him.

("Moon, we can't just become a common crimina-- what's this?"

"A chocolate popsicle."

"A...chocolate popsicle?"

"I made it."

"Oh! Like a homemade popiscle? :0"

"Yep."

"Oh my goodness, thank you Moon- I knew you cared about me deep down!"

"Sure.")

-.-

("Don't worry. If you ask, I can make things for you, too.")

the video where they first met monty, where moon told sun that he'd be the one to lie for him, because sun wasn't comfortable doing so himself.

another thing i may note with this episode is that monty never once physically hit sun; he hit moon because he was in the way, but other than verbal threats, he never actually did anything. this carries on to later episodes, too, i believe.

("We can't lie to people, Moon!"

"Yes we can."

"Why?"

"I can. You don't have to; I will.")

he treats FREDDY better than he does SUN. which i find particularly strange because both sun and freddy have the same exact traits.

they're considered the dumb ones, too kind, a bit naive. but in the episode they upgraded freddy, moon was so soft towards him while threatening sun the moment before

("Your joints are connected by screws, I will take off your limbs."

"Freddy, help me! He's threatening to kill me!"

"Uhh..don't kill him, please."

"Freddy, you are a sweet baby boy, move out of the way.")

sometimes i think about how bewildered and offset sun seemed when moon was suddenly being nice to him, the way while happy about it he still chose to keep his distance because something was obviously wrong with moon.

("You're so good at this job."

"...I am?"

"Yeah! You're the best at it."

"..Okay! [nervous laughter] Let's just- now go downstairs!")

moon clearly holds sun in a bit of a higher care than he acts like he does. hell, he panicked when sun was 'missing', and told monty he'd do anything as long as monty gave him back (even if it turned out that monty had nothing to do with it, and that sun was just sleeping.)

("I don't have a ringer! I don't even know what a ringer is! Why are you hitting me?!"

"Because I just had to go get a necronomicon because I thought Monty kidnapped you!")

i will say that the demon and angel episode added a lot of insight on how moon does feel about sun. my only gripes is that it feels like NOTHING WAS DONE ABOUT IT.

("I don't think we should be yelling at him--"

"You're right! i shouldn't be yelling at him! I SHOULD BE BEATING HIM TO A BLOODY PULP!

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just wanted to share my cool science with you.."

-.-

("It's not like you try to get along with me!"

"I don't try to get along with you becase the first thing you ever did was just saying 'Oh, you're so annoying and dumb and stupid!' What do you mean, try?!")

-.-

"I've been trying my best! That's why I've been bringing you along for my adventures!"

-.-

("I made your favorite..."

"I want you to tell me right now what my favorite is."

"Gingersnap.")

it feels like after they got foxy, it went downhill. or maybe it was after roxanne on her own. maybe that isn't fair to them, maybe it is. i don't know. but there was definitely a shift in moon's behavior, to me at least.

because it feels like foxy brought a surge of violence...

("Hey, by the way, Monty? Sun ran onto oncoming traffic."

"I'm not too surprised, the way you treat him.")

...which only seemed to spiral further once they got bonnie.

("You just- he just hit me with the bottom of his gun, Moon!"

"Let the Sheriff do what he needs to do."

-.-

("It doesn't matter anymore, no one likes me."

"If no one likes you, then you'd think you'd try and be a little different."

"Why- why should I at this point?! Screw you, Moon.")

moon considers sun one of his best friends, which we know from freddy of all people because sun's name is literally part of the password to their internet.

("It's the names of his three best friends! Himself, you, and me!"

"I- I don't think you can be friends with yourself."

"Moon's very self-oriented!"

"Yeah, I know that one...selfish guy."

"No, not selfish! Self-oriented.")

can i just say that it's a terrible fact it can even be part of a bar when this is one of the few episodes moon doesn't physically attack sun, and that's only because hes too focused on investigating?

("So you're saying that Sun's the problem because he keeps getting caught!"

"No, you are in fact still the problem, Moon."

"HA!")

that entire conversation with foxy and roxanne both in the video that sun finally, perhaps rightfully if not in the best way, snapped.

("Just drop the gun, Sun- just drop the gun and we'll be okay- this isn't you- this isn't you, dude-"

"This isn't me? YOU MADE ME LIKE THIS! I'm going to enjoy watching you dissipate to nothing.")

-.-

("Why do you want to kill Bonnie so bad?"

"He has done nothing except torture me ever since he has come here!")

i don't know what moon was expecting, when trying to confess to him. moon, bestie, i think the first sign that you fucked up should have been the very moment he assumed that it was a prank. that eclipse was messing with him.

("I'm in love with you-- what?

"So Eclipse is doing something to you, right?"

"What?"

"Eclipse is doing something to you?"

"…n- no?"

"Yeah, okay, I get it. Eclipse, this some kind of big prank trying to get me to say I like Moon in some romantic light because he treats me like garbage all the time? Eclipsee?-- oh.")

that something was wrong with you.

-.-

("...Because I like you?"

"That's not possible. Improbible!"

"I mean, you're a good person, you're nice, you're kind."

"YOU LITERALLY BEAT ME UP EVERY DAY!")

the fact monty was surprised that moon liked sun. which says a lot because it feels like monty's one of the few moon hangs out around, besides foxy and bonnie.

("Yeah, it's because he doesn't believe i'm in love with him."

"Pardon?"

"Byeee.")

the fact that freddy's been trying to talk to moon about it. been giving moon advice. and moon hasn't been taking it whatsoever.

("He's been talking to me about it. He didn't know how to go about it because he thought you would hate him."

"I do hate him!"

"Yeaahh…I know. But I wanted him to learn his own way."

"He literally started beating me for some trivial reason-- for no reason??"

"Yeeeahhh… I know. I wanted him to learn from his own mistakes.")

while roxanne was..close to being a friend to sun, she's also- as much as i hate to say it- more of an...observer? like she doesnt have the- yknow- courage to actually prevent it outside of words. she was on that route of "she has the spirit, but she's too weak-willed to actually do anything about it" i think. because she like,, she did try! but she never actually followed through. all she said was "maybe we shouldn't do that?" and then never actually tried to stop them

and freddy- while he isnt actively doing things...did turn a blind eye to bonnie's antics in the carnival video. he, too, has never once actually said anything about how sun was treated.

the only one who EVER said anything about it was monty, and that was offhand. that and the fact monty said he cheered when sun pulled the trigger on foxy and bonnie. which honestly might as well be the closest person to an almost-friend sun has! because while monty hasn't been particularly helpful, he hasn't outright hurt him either!

for all the times eclipse has tried to send people after sun and moon to kill them (which so has bonnie! so has moon!), at least he hasn't once went under the guise of actually caring for sun. he hasn't lied to him or anything. also!! that time on the roof, with him and bonnie? while eclipse didn't say anything, he didn't dismiss sun either as he ranted about all the things bonnie did to him. he never once interrupted, let him get it out of his system.

which maybe thats the bare minimum! but honestly? despite all his faults, i'd still think sun was better off with him. because at least he knows eclipse doesn't outright care, and so he can't get sucked in that continious cycle of mixed feelings.

this is all just mostly my opinion though so. feel free to disagree, this is just from what i noted, and honestly i might not have worded it the best but its the best i got rip

i dont even know what im trying to say with this tbh. they are just... idk. i miss what they used to be. i wish things were better for them.

[cutieeva]

Oh shit ! I truly thought that (Y/N) has gone mad but it wasn't that way when I read the second episode !! 😔😔 I am sad for girly yet excited to read the next that's why please please please update fast 😘😘 (Also I love your writing, officially in love with you)

Bullied

Female Reader

Warnings : Bullying. Violence.

⌜ Thank you dearie for loving my art of writing, it never fails to makes me happy and here an belated update. ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Loving someone itself is an act of selfish so why is leaving the relationship seen so heinous ? Sometimes one's own sake of happiness is needed more than another's if fallen out of love. The sooner (Y/N) understand the better.

"What is going on in that table ?"

"Is the girl okay ?"

"Why is she making a big deal about all ?"

"He is such a lovely boy yet she is so nasty accusing him for cheating ?"

"If I had a boyfriend like that I would die from happiness".

"He should break up with her".

"She seem toxic".

"(Y/N) ! Stop it and get up". Sophia's irritated voice reach her ears and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel all is jumbled. All is unclear. All is numb because does her suffering doesn't matter ? Yes, perhaps she is overreacting yet is it her fault when he was the one to lie about everything ?

Slowly her (E/C) eyes met Sophia's and other accountances she calls friends and her heart dropped.

Her pale face in snarl.

Other's cheeks red from thoroughly shame.

Another can't even share a glance at her.

The beautiful woman standing in awkward.

The guests are whispering, increasingly harsh, scary and the workers worried.

And lastly Cameron, stood looking hurt. In pain than she was and all her beliefs, reality begin distorting.

Is she a nuisance ?

Is she really overreacting over everything like others ?

Is she the one in wrong for not trusting him ?

Is being dated on bet and built an relationship on lies is alright as long as the faulty party apologize ?

If once the trust she believes was broken in the worst way, then is she the one to create drama ?

Are lies not serious ?

Do lies have little meaning ? Is playing with someone else's feeling is a small price for a relationship she didn't even realize ?

Is she overreacting ? "Am I overreacting ?" Despite people surround her, her own few people even the boyfriend she loved once yet why she suddenly feels so alone ? Lonely ? And hopeless ?

Daze with piling doubts and thousand pairs of eyes watching her, her hand yanked by Cameron. "I am sorry, I apologize for the scene". Smiling like a good man he hold her shoulder and walk her limp body to his car he drove.

In the entirety none dare break the ice in air while Cameron was in disappointment, (Y/N) in utter confusion. All she discover is that she has fall out of love, maybe from the moment he said 'I am now' in front of the men along losing herself. For the fear to let go she latched onto him, gifting him the second chance only to realize her suspicious, love turn into anger and anger form an hatred. An hatred she didn't knew. An hatred so deep she was unable to see his goodness anymore only searching faults.

Her entire being of happy, blunt, forgiving shaped into such a stranger her own eyes have harder to see from the clear fog. She shaped into a vicious, incredulous person. A person she never even dreamed to become.

"Get off". Cameron's that soft, smooth voice rip her from the creeping shadows of words inside her mind and her haze gaze glance to find herself house. His home they decide to turn into their love nest.

Sliding down from the car, she walked towards the lift without waiting for him to follow and press the cold metal button. Her eyes dried from the tears that caught her reflection in the shining metal and she couldn't help find the dark circles weight heavy under her eyes, rim edges red and hair— a mess with barely appropriate clothes on. She looks nothing alike the neat, fresh (Y/N).

She looks wasted, used and worn off self— the door of the lifts snap her out again, she blink twice before stepping in properly. Their floor came faster than she expect and the moment the doorknob twist open. She close her eyes ready to be face with angry lashing, words like knives twisting her guts yet none came.

Rather he remove his coat, wash his hands and smile. "What shall we eat then ?"

She merely stare at him.

He continue to smile. The smile she doesn't find warming, sweet.

"Maybe something different. Like Pollo al Ajillo, in English known as Garlic Chicken ? Hmm ?" A single word didn't slip her lips, standing at her roots.

And without her reply he decided. She watched him not moving her an inch cooking, smiling like a normal couple. Minutes bled into hours and little to no care he serve the food, finally ripping her from her roots and sat her beside him.

Stomach churn in no hunger and eyes burden to open, she look at him. "Let's take a break". The metal spoon his fingers held pause, his smile creased.

"I-I need spac—".

"You don't". He cut off smoothly. His smile wider to it's length than before and the spoon between his fingers lay on the wooden table. "I know what happen today was a little overboard but do not worry. It was my fault after all and it's alright. I forgive you". Soft his eyes he push the plate of food to her, an gesture to eat.

However she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't rip from the oblivious face, acting all normal, when nothing is. Nothing is normal. Their relationship is falling apart, their love draft from one another and trust long out of the picture.

He so easily utter his denial. She doesn't need space, perhaps she doesn't but wouldn't he at least ask the reason behind ? Even if it's known still ask and not play the game of pretend. It's exhausting because they are a real couple not actors in a play.

"Would you not ask me why ?" Her voice in end crack.

"Would it make a difference ?"

"Yes, a lot". Honestly she shares, it will help her a lot to understand the real Cameron, the one who she fell for or the one she saw when the illusion shatter.

He turn his head to her. "We are doing alright. It will be fine. Look am I not improving myself ?" No, she only sees him now complying to her wishes easily.

"I need space". She look away, his face reminding her of those cherish days. "We both need space". She finished, adamant on seperating even if it's for a moment she wants to breath, the tightness on her chest is too much and the alarming mistrust.

Once a pot is broken, even with the finest potter's hands can't fix the remained lines of past.

"Okay". To her surprise he agreed "I see, you need time to cool your head". With that he stood up and went to their shared bedroom leaving her and the cold food behind.

Her finger hold the spoon to take a bite of the dish however few inches from her lips she pause. Staring at the food and can't help but cry of unable to eat at the end. Merely thinking how without waiting for her choice, he cooked the food, only giving an illusion of choices.

☾

When one announce their break up. People's first reaction is : 

"Did he cheat ?"

"Did you cheat ?"

"Is he abusive ?"

"Manipulative ?"

"Controlling ?"

"A bet". (Y/N) would say. "I was a bet he was dared to date and in process he fell for me but he always treated not less than a princess and after I found out he begged, confessed his love. From then he always is perfect. Even ignoring my overreaction". All the voices stopped altogether. The harsh, doubtful all pause because in this picture nothing is wrong apart from the fact he was a liar, who lied and fixed himself for better. He really did but can it patch the wounds of her shattered faith in him ?

People always say second chance can change lives, do wonders and in her she saw. She can see why they give second chances yet she can't bring herself to love anymore. She is angry, stuck on the phrase where all laughed at her like a clown, whispering, betting for how long would she last.

Was she a human or a puppet ? He never defended her, he never share his thoughts with her. She doesn't even know him anymore. She really really is lost.

Even walking towards the metal gates of university seem heavy, scary. Her mind already twisted her vision of people laughing, hating her. Being the center of attention she so wants to be away from. Her (E/C) eyes glance around walking to her class recalling not to stumble upon them or him. She is enough exhausted. She doesn't need more.

BANG! She flinched, her nerves jolting.

BANG! Her eyelids snapped shut, shielding herself from the brutality.

BANG! The sound of flesh colliding with metal reverberated through her ears, leaving a buzzing ache. A human body, crumpling like a rag doll.

"Poor him. He should quit or complain". Not so subtle whispers like flicker of fire circle around, reaching her ears.

"Shouldn't he die at this rate ?" Cruel.

"What a bore. Really ? Everyday ? Isn't it such a nuisance—". Cruel. So, so cruel. Just because a person can't help himself doesn't give these people the chance to pity him. To paint him— the victim the cause of his own suffering. His silence was twisted into consent, his helplessness fuel for their merciless ridicule.

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Laughter like devilish cackles echoed, faces feigning sympathy, eyes gleaming with fox-like innocence. Cowardly souls, masking their true nature.

She, too, wore a mask, hypocrisy veiling her own darkness.

That's why in a blink of an eye. Her once neat clean palm painted in crimson, stretch of iron reeking the air, painful grunts and horried screams and distorted yells is making no sense to her. She can't understand the aching in her palm, the cries of the familiar boy's underneath her, chanting of word fight and her own tears rolling down.

"Fight. Fight. Fright. Fright". The crowd roar fueling her more and more and more. Why are they encouraging ? Yet why does it feel like she is revelling in it ?

"(Y/N) ! Stop beating Adrian". Oh. Her palms ache because she is punching his face, painted in crimson because it's his blood, cries belong to Adrian who lay beneath her helpless like that boy he was seconds ago using as a ragdoll.

How wonderful.

She can't stop. She punch and punch and punch and punch uttering only three words. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry". Not to the bully— no never to Adrian. Never to the boy who is violent to innocent. It's to the victim, to the unknown jester of everyone's joke. For Everyone's play. For the system that enable Adrian's cruelty into fun.

She is sorry for blind. She is sorry for foolish. She is sorry for being coward. She is sorry for ignoring him. She is sorry for wearing mask of pretense herself. She is sorry for falling into the lies of Cameron. She is sorry for saying yes to his proposal. She is sorry for overreacting. She is sorry for suspecting. She is sorry for losing trust. She is sorry for not being happy with a perfect boyfriend.

She is sorry for fell in love.

She is sorry for.....everything.

To herself.

To everything.

☾

Dry tears stain her (S/C) cheeks as in empty space she stare, leaning on the chair in front of director's office. The woman's words faded into background noise, inaudible over the cacophony of her thoughts.

Her mind replayed the chaos: the frantic struggle, the flash of anger, the blur of fists. She couldn't recall who intervened, pulling her back from the brink of destruction. By then, he had already crumpled, unconscious. Her tangled hair bore witness to the scuffle, matted from the grasping hands of his minions, few blood dotted her blue jeans, a crimson constellation from her own nose. Her torn t-shirt hung askew, shoulder exposed while he— lay worse. Broken. Lifeless almost.

Yet no remorse stirred in her stomach, surprisingly. Instead, a lingering sense of justification lingered, eclipsed only by the anguish she felt for the victim. The one she had been compelled to defend, driven by a primal urge to protect she only dreamed.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" The director's voice cut through the tension. "Do you comprehend the gravity of your situation? You're at risk of expelled !" An humorless laugh almost slip from (Y/N).

Expelled for what ? Punching a deserving scum to death while he punch an innocent boy to death when his skin wasn't even healed from the stitches of wounds Adrian left on him ?

(E/C) eyes stare at the female director who's blue glossy eyes stare at (Y/N) like she was a demon of chao when in her view, the real corrupt could be the adult, this lady who blind these physical, emotion abuse. Pain so small like (Y/N)'s bet and huge imprinting like that boy's scars for eternal to remember. Become something that etched in their memories, their experiences, though grave and painful, would be reduced to cautionary stories, diluted by time and retelling. The true weight of their suffering would remain unspoken, lost amidst the faint whispers of a forgotten past.

The tense standoff ended when the director's blue eyes darted past (Y/N), as if catching something She sighed audibly, her expression softening. "Get out. Reflect on your actions and the reasons for your two-week suspension. Expulsion is off the table." She mused confusing (Y/N)'s daze self a little and when she stood up, walking out of the room.

She understand meeting his concern eyes. Her boyfriend must have used his power.

Cameron swallowed under her intense gaze, part his lips to say when she continue to walk, aware of the pain in her body suddenly.

Alone in the empty hallway, she felt a fleeting sense of peace, liberated from the weight of others' judgments. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she moved, ghost-like. Her eyes drifted to the scattered belongings on the floor, remnants of the chaos. She bent to gather them, her movements slow and deliberate.

A sudden twinge of pain shot through her knee as she crouched. (Y/N) winced, noticing the cut, a crimson gash on her pale skin. She gingerly touched the wound, her fingers tracing the tender edge. This time she felt like crying with clarity, like she knew what she was crying for along a need. Tears swell within her (E/C) eyes waiting to fall.

"It will hurt more if you cry". Calmly she gaze beside her. To the lockers where the boy slumped, his face still smeared with blood. The indifference surrounding him was palpable, as if no one cared about his suffering. (Y/N) press her lips, pulling a white handkerchief to hand him.

He accepted the handkerchief, his fingers brushing against hers. With gentle movements, he wiped the blood from his face, revealing a canvas of bruises and wounds beneath. For the first time, (Y/N) saw his true complexion – pale, with a hint of rosy undertones. The vibrant hues of his injuries – purple, blue, and crimson – stood in stark contrast to his delicate skin.

As the blood was wiped away, his features emerged, and (Y/N) noticed the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his nose, and the softness of his lips.

"I am sorry". It fell out before she could revise or add.

"Don't be". He shake his head. "Everyone's coward. Even me". (Y/N) desire to protest of his own situation.

"I am talking about you". She blink. "You are Cameron's girlfriend". He utter like a fact. "All business major knew about a bet on a girl. They just didn't knew who until one of Cameron's friend told about your relationship making everyone realize who she is but wasn't sure". Her breath hitched. So they did. All did.

"I too, because I am from business major. Yet I was a coward to not say the truth or at least..." He tailed off. "Warn you". He finished heavy silence weight the air. (Y/N) inhale, not finding words to explain the mess of feelings she is having. Indeed both were jester of everyone's joke.

As she scoffed, her gaze trailed his movements, expecting him to walk away. But instead, he swooped down, his lithe frame folding into a crouch beside her. His amber eyes locked onto her knee, the cut a tiny, crimson gash.

Without a word, he reached out, his fingertips grazing her skin as he applied a band-aid. A shiver danced up her spine at the gentle touch.

"You know you're also being bullied?" His voice was low, concerned. Her eyes lift to his focused ones on her cut, whispering a "No".

"Bullying is not only physical you know. It can be emotional too. And what is happening to you is bullying too. An emotional one where he took advantage of your trust, then play with your feelings, manipulate you into staying in the relationship when you clearly in daze of the complexity and not in right state. If he truly cared about you, wouldn't he have asked how you felt or given you the space to think? Wouldn't he have prioritized your well-being over his own desires? But instead, he rushed you into this relationship, disregarding your boundaries and emotions". His words felt like sting of bees she couldn't process as the image of Cameron's pained face when she accused of him cheating in front of others.

His pure happiness when he pull the chair for her in front of her parents.

His patience when she was crying so suddenly and at the restaurant.

Her colleagues Sofia and others disturbed faces and harsh whispers.

"No. No. He is not perfect, yes. He is not good entirely. He is a liar but he improved. It is I who has problem. I fall out of love, mistrust him and..." Her throat felt dry to speak and she swallowed having difficulty seeing. The problem lies in her. She is the odd, fallen one.

The boy finally gaze his amber eyes and said. "If Cameron really is a good person. Not perfect, good. Then why in the first place are you lashing out and angrily pushing your anger on Adrian ? And in a mess mindset ?" It left (Y/N) shunned. Because truly did she blames Cameron for her misery. Hates him for his mockery of perfection. However never did she blame him for his entanglement to this relationship based on lies for her was truth.

"Let's assume Cameron is a good person who genuinely cares for you and loves you deeply, but isn't able to let you go. However, if being with him no longer brings you happiness— not because of his flaws, but because your feelings have changed and you're staying solely out of guilt or obligation, don't you think it's time to reevaluate? For your own sake, shouldn't you prioritize your happiness even if it's selfishness ?"

As he stood, dusting off his pants, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes held a gentle intensity. "After all, loving someone is, in itself, a selfish act," he added, his voice low and thoughtful.

"I am saying this because you came out of your cowardness for me and I for you". the boy said, wincing as he gingerly touched his jaw. "I should get to the nurse," he added, his voice laced with discomfort.

She swiftly stood up, her hand brushing against his arm with an awkward yet tender touch. "Let me help."

"No, it's okay..." He trailed off, his mind reeling as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His legs weakened, and he swayed precariously, almost toppling over.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in alarm as she swiftly grasped his arms, her grip tight.

𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅

☾ ────────

[maladaptiveobsession]

“Jealousy and Isolation”

Synopsis: How might the yandere DOL NPCs isolate the player?

Contains: gn!reader, gn!NPCs, abduction, body mutilation, blackmailing, coercion, death, degradation, drowning, gas lighting, isolation, manipulation, murder, restraints, surveillance, threats of suicide, threats of violence, yandere

Words: 1,050

A/N: Ivory Wraith presents a unique case, so they get an entire section dedicated just to them. I’m not completely satisfied with this, but I can’t bear to stare at it for a second more.

Manipulation

They use your fears against you. Town isn’t safe; you’ve said so yourself. Don’t go anywhere. No harm can come to you so long as you stay by their side. Just let them shoulder your burdens. They’ll support you and take care of you. You only need them.

➥ Alex, high love!Avery Bailey, Black Wolf, Charlie, Darryl, Doren, Eden, Great Hawk, Gwylan, Harper,Jordan, Kylar, Landry, Mickey, Morgan, Relaxed Guard, Remy, high confidence!Robin, Scarred Inmate, Sydney, Quinn, Sam, Sirris, Veteran Guard, Whitney, Winter, Zephyr

Every insecurity is weaponized, reminding you constantly just how weak and alone you truly are. You’re less likely to rebel if you think so little of yourself. Only they won’t abandon you by the wayside. Who else gives a damn about you? Can’t you see how much you need them?

➥ high dom!Alex, Anxious Gaurd, Avery, Bailey, Black Wolf, Briar, Charlie, Eden, Harper, Jordan, Leighton, Mason, Methodical Gaurd, Niki,, Remy, Quinn, Sam, Scarred Inmate, pure!Sydney, Veteran Gaurd, Whitney

They take advantage of your emotions: guilt tripping, love bombing, and holding you hostage using their life. Haven’t they proven themself capable? Haven’t they shown how much they care? Does what you have mean nothing to you? It’s so lonely without you. They need you. Please don’t go. Can’t you see how much they love you? They can’t live without you. Don’t make them do something you’ll both regret.

➥ low dom!Alex, high love!Eden, Charlie, Darryl, Doren, Great Hawk, Gwylan, Kylar, Mickey, River, Robin, Sam, Sirris, corrupt!Sydney, high love!Whitney, Wren

Coercion/Intimidation

It would be a shame if your friends suddenly disappeared, wouldn’t it? One by one, everyone you care about is disposed of in some puzzling manner or another. Who could have predicted this series of unfortunate events? It’s just such a dangerous place, you know?

➥ Avery, Bailey, Briar, Eden, Jordan, Kylar, Mickey, Niki, Quinn, Remy, Scarred Inmate, Veteran Guard, Wren, Zephyr

You can certainly try to get away, but your life will be torn to shambles. Failing school, struggling to find work, and/or suddenly a social pariah? Maybe you were better off with them, after all. Grovel for forgiveness, and perhaps they’ll take you back.

➥ Anxious Guard, Avery, Bailey, Briar, Charlie, Jordan, Leighton, Mason, Mickey, Niki, Quinn, Relaxed Gaurd, Remy, high confidence!Robin, Sam, Sirris, Whitney, Winter

Blackmailing you is laughably easy. There’s so much dirt to choose from! Disobey their commands, and suddenly the whole town will know of your affairs. Perhaps the police will knock on your door, finally having enough evidence for an arrest? If you enjoy your privacy and freedom, you’d best listen well.

➥ Avery, Bailey, Briar, Harper, Jordan, Landry, Leighton, Mason, Mickey, Niki, Quinn, Relaxed Guard, Remy, pure!Sydney, Whitney, Wren

Abduction/confinement

You made them do this; you left them with no other choice. You can’t leave; not now, nor ever. The thought of losing you is unbearable. Don’t worry; they’ll take care of you now that you’re home.

➥ Alex, Anxious Guard, high love!Avery, Bailey, Black Wolf, Eden, Great Hawk, Gwylan, high confidence!Robin, Jordan, Kylar, Landry, Mickey, Morgan, Relaxed Guard, River, Sam, Sirris, Sydney, Veteran Guard, Wren

Much too impatient and suspicious of a person, you’re kidnapped with little to no hesitation. There was too much risk in letting you roam free. You’d have made a mess of things, but that was in the past. Now, nobody could steal what belonged to them. You’d be going nowhere so long as they were near.

➥ Avery, Bailey, Briar, Eden, Harper, Kylar, Landry, Mickey, Methodical Guard, Niki, Relaxed Gaurd, Remy, Scared Inmate, Veteran Guard, Zephyr

It hadn’t been intentional, but there was no turning back. Whether recovering from an injury while under their care or simply utilizing their home as a safe haven, your presence became a familiar constant—intoxicating, addictive, and natural. The reality of you leaving sunk in slowly, despair gnashing at their nerves each time the topic was broached. No, it hadn’t been intentional, but their dependency on you pressed against their throat like a knife. Life without you was inconceivable. You can’t leave yet; they’re not sure they ever want you to leave. They supported you in your time of need. Return the favor by staying, will you? Don’t force their hand; there’s no telling what they might do if you resist—anything to keep you right where you belong.

➥ Alex, Avery, Bailey, Charlie, Darryl, Doren, Gwylan, Jordan, Landry, Leighton, Mason, Methodical Guard, Niki, Relaxed Guard, Remy, River, Robin, Sam, Sirris, Sydney, Veteran Guard, Whitney, Winter, Wren

Restrained with whatever they have on hand: rope, shackles, straightjacket, cages, handcuffs, leashes, and the like. Don’t complain; they’d have no need to do this if you weren’t a flight risk. There’s certainly no hope of freedom when you can’t even sit up or use the bathroom without help. You’re more likely to injure yourself, but if you do somehow manage to undo your restraints, heavily locked doors and windows keep you from going anywhere.

➥ Little to no hesitation: high dom! Alex Anxious Guard, Avery, Bailey, Briar, Eden, Harper, Kylar, Methodical Guard, Niki, Relaxed Guard, Remy, Scared Inmate, Sirris, corrupt!Sydney, Veteran Guard, Whitney, Winter, Wren, Zephyr

➥ Reluctant last resort: Charlie, Darryl, Jordan, Mason, Mickey, River, confident!Robin, pure!Sydney

Your every moment is monitored. The constant surveillance dehumanizes you and fills you with paranoia. They always know where you are and what you’re doing. Your absence will be noted immediately, so don’t even think about leaving them. Temporary freedom is not worth the punishment.

➥ Anxious Guard, Avery, Bailey, Briar, Darryl, Harper, Jordan, Kylar, Landry, Methodical Guard, Mickey, Niki, Sydney, Quinn, Sirris, Vereran Guard, Wren

Perhaps some solitary confinement will do you good. You can only handle the seclusion for so long before the craving for any form of human contact sets in. Well-behaved darlings get cuddles and comfort; disobedience, however, won’t be tolerated. You’ll realize just how much you need them when they’re all you have.

➥ Little to no hesitation: high dom!Alex, Anxious Guard, Avery, low love!Eden, Harper, Methodical Guard, Niki, Relaxed Guard, Remy, Sirris, Zephyr

➥ Reluctant last resort: Bailey, high love!eden, Charlie, Jordan, Mason, River, Sam

They’ll dull your temper by keeping you intoxicated, too junked up to even dream of escape. You’re so much more pleasant and cooperative this way; so eyes void of thought. You don’t even resist when their hands wander, giggly and playful and responsive. While they do miss your authentic self, the power they wield over you is much too appealing to surrender. Why, you can hardly feed yourself! Subduing any fits of clarity is laughably easy when you’re body is unresponsive to your efforts. There’s just no way you could leave with mush for brain.

➥ Little to no hesitation: Anxious Guard, Avery, Briar, Harper, Kylar, Leighton, Niki, Quinn, Sirris

➥ Reluctant last resort: Mickey, Relaxed Guard, Whitney, Wren

Don’t make them hurt you. They’re not above breaking a few bones to immobilize you and send a message. You could even lose your vision or leg entirely. It’s not like they wanted to disable you, but you left them no other choice. Now, you really won’t be able to leave, having to depend on them for just about everything. You should have listened; at least then you’d still be able to walk yourself to the toilet. 

➥ Little to no hesitation: Briar, low love!Eden, Harper, jealous!Kylar, Leighton, Methodical Guard, Morgan, Quinn, low love/high dom Whitney, Zephyr

➥ Reluctant last resort: high dom!Alex, high love!Avery Bailey, Jordan, Kylar, Relaxed Guard, Remy, Veteran Guard, high love!Whitney, Wren

Death

If they can’t have you, no one can. You can’t abandon them if you’re dead; you can’t do much of anything, in fact. Fueled by obsessive hysteria, your life is cut short. Viscera paints your skin, body tight from rigor mortis. Though you can no longer kiss them, hold them, or whisper tender affections in their ear, nobody can steal you away from them. Even as your body molds, bowels becoming home to maggots, you’ll at least never leave. Even as your flesh melts to reveal bones, you’re still only theirs.

➥ Harper, Kylar, Morgan

Their capabilities wax and wane with the moon, only ever to call you home when the blood moon dyes the night skies red. Some cycles, you evade them entirely. They so desperately crave your touch, the longing intensifying with each passing lunation. The desire to possess you had since long replaced the resentment. No longer did they seek restitution, but rather your continued company. Though a grave robber you may be, you belonged to them all the same. The wraith owned so very few things—one of which you so cruelly stole—so forgive them if they’re not keen to share. Your departure each moon was torturous and heart-wrenching. It occurred to them that you would only remain if the option to leave was stricken. Mindless tentacles confined you deep under the lake surface, large hands possessively clasping your neck. Grave robber and grave dancer united by death—drowned in the cold depths and buried by water—as two, as one. Bound as malefic phantoms, days mean nothing in the maw of forever.

➥ Ivory Wraith

[proosh]

gilbert as a character to me is defined by the ruthless calculus of necessity he performs for what he believes to be the Best Possible Outcome. he's operating on and in a system that is foundationally structured atop violence and the resulting trauma of it.

on a national, cultural, existential level, he exists to perpetuate violence For The Good Of His People. servant-slave-soldier to the state, As The State. and that means he is constantly doing the terrible calculations that nobody else can stomach and he does it Exceptionally.

kick him in the face and gut him and he will put himself back together and analyse What Went Wrong and then strip himself of his human weakness until the only thing left is a machine hunter-killer and he will keep doing it until there's nothing left but the burning world he made.

and therein lies the tragedy: he is not a good person because he's neither good nor a person. and he knows this. but there is nothing else for him to be. any other route leads to annihilation. there is nothing to justify or redeem him and there is no freedom in death.

and it just breaks my heart. because there's nothing else he could have ever been. no chance and no choice. and he'll march into oblivion again and again in futile hope and desperate love for what he wants to be A Good Thing.

[cosmicjoke]

The Student Becoming the Teacher:

You know what I realized about this moment?

Kenny is envious of Levi.

He asks Levi, with naked derision, "What are you?! A hero?!", because Levi is what Kenny always wanted, but never managed to be, which is a good person, and Levi managed it without ever needing to gain ultimate power.

Kenny believed that the only way to be a good person was if you were so powerful, you could simply afford to be good. In other words, as long as it cost you nothing to be so. As long as you were untouchable and not at risk of losing anything through your acts of kindness. And that really exposes Kenny's own, selfish nature, that he believed goodness could only be attained through being in a position of total power. That he couldn't conceive of there being someone who would willingly sacrifice their own well-being for the sake of someone else. He sought the power of a Titan like Uri had because he thought that would allow him to be a good person like Uri. And, ironically, in his warped philosophy of how to achieve goodness, fueled by his selfish nature, and in his pursuit of that goal, he only became a worse and worse person, murdering whoever got in the way of him achieving what he wanted for himself.

And of course there's a fundamental flaw in Kenny's thinking.

He didn't understand that what makes someone a good person, what makes someone a hero, more specifically, isn't simply bestowing acts of kindness and mercy, such as Uri showed to him, but an ability and willingness to sacrifice something of ourselves for the betterment of others. Someone who is willing to give up what's most important to them if it means helping someone else.

A hero is someone who's willing to lose so that someone else can win.

And nobody embodies that willingness, that heroism, more than Levi.

Kenny accuses Levi here of "killing when it benefits (him)", too, and Levi agrees, but that's actually not true.

Levi never actually does anything in the story for his own benefit. He never acts toward self-advancement, but always toward the advancement of others. He's the only character in the series who doesn't carry a personal dream that he's fighting for, but instead fights for the dreams of others.

That selflessness is what defines him, along with his compassion, empathy and kindness.

Levi is willing to do bad things, things which take a personal toll on him, like killing, like committing acts of violence, as long as it means other people don't have to also carry that burden, as he explains in his monologue to the 104th. Levi is willing to lose one of the most important people in his life in Erwin, a person he's relied on for so long to guide him, because it means saving Erwin himself from becoming a monster and giving him peace. Levi is willing to give up a physical memento which would have brought him comfort in his grief, in order to bring comfort to another, grieving soldier, like he does when he gives Petra's patch to Dieter. Levi is willing to repress his own, natural instinct to save lives and carry the burden and pain of that choice because it means more lives will be saved down the line and because it's what his comrades chose to give their lives for, like when he makes the choice for Erwin and the one hundred other scouts to charge to their death against the Beast Titan, or when he stays the course of their mission to lead the Female Titan into Erwin's trap, even as he knows the soldiers behind him are being slaughtered. Levi is willing to destroy his body in order to save the lives of his comrades, like when he rescues Mikasa, when he rescues Jean, when he rescues Connie, and ends up disabled and needing the use of a wheelchair for the rest of his life as a result.

That's a large part of what differentiates Levi from Kenny. Kenny kills to advance himself, to achieve greater personal strength because he himself wants to be "good", all while being so blinded by that personal ambition and selfishness that he fails to see how his actions take him further and further from being what he wants to be, while Levi kills to save the lives of other people, to honor their choices and allow them agency, even when it costs him his own, personal comfort and may even cost him the ability to call himself a "good person". Ironically, of course, it's that very willingness that makes Levi a good person, that makes him a hero.

Again, that willingness to lose in order for someone else to win.

Nobody taught Levi that he could use his strength to help others, Kenny least of all. Kenny never taught Levi anything but how to use his strength for personal gain, how to be selfish with his strength, the same way Kenny himself was, wielding his gift only to get what he, personally, wanted, unwilling to lose or sacrifice anything for the benefit of others. Levi discovered on his own that he could use his strength to help others, and on his own, that's what he decided to do, because unlike Kenny, Levi's nature is one of selflessness. He instinctively understood, once he realized his strength could be used to help people, that because he had this thing that others didn't, he should share it and use it for their benefit. He felt an obligation even to use it for others, to give them what he had, the same way we see Levi give what he has to others all throughout the story, even when it leaves him with nothing for himself. Kenny only understood that the thing he had should be horded and used for further self-gain.

That's the difference between someone with great, natural empathy, with great, natural compassion and kindness, and someone without any empathy at all, someone who at their core is selfish and self-serving. The difference between someone who's good and someone's who's bad.

And what's so interesting about this, then, is that it wasn't ever Kenny who taught Levi how to be a hero, or how to be good, but Levi, in the end, who instead teaches Kenny.

Through his encounter with Levi during the Uprising arc, Kenny realizes that Levi has managed to become on his own what Kenny always strove to be. A good man. And he sees how that goodness expresses itself through Levi's selfless actions. Kenny learns, through Levi, that to be good is to sacrifice, to be a hero is to help others even when, and most especially when, it comes at great, personal cost.

It's no coincidence that at the end of his life, after he's born witness to Levi and his genuine heroism, that Kenny finally learns what it means to be a good person, and we see him commit the only, truly selfless act of his life, by giving up his dream and giving the serum to Levi.

Because he learns through Levi that it's not power or invincibility that makes someone good. It's not a lack of desperation or being in a position of having nothing to lose that makes someone's generous actions heroic. It's easy to do good when it costs you nothing. It's easy to be generous when you have more than enough. It's when being merciful, being kind, being compassionate actually costs you personally, and you do those things anyway, that someone can truly be defined as being a good person. As being a hero.

Earlier, Kenny bragged about "teaching (Levi) everything he knows", and talked about his pride in that, wanting to take responsibility for the person Levi was. But Kenny didn't teach Levi this. He didn't teach Levi how to be good. He didn't teach Levi how to be a hero.

Kenny's tone implies sarcasm when he asks Levi if he's a hero, and it's because Kenny is actually envious of Levi, and maybe even in awe of him. He's angry, because Levi managed to become the man Kenny could only ever dream of being, and he did it totally on his own, without Kenny's help or example.

It's a case of the student becoming the teacher.

In the end, it was Levi who taught Kenny the most important lesson of all, by showing him what it truly means to be a good person.

[smile-files]

something interesting i realized while on the vessel-making screen in the deltarune introduction is that it's physically impossible to make kris: there is no hair that perfectly matches theirs (none have the cowlick or the right jagged shape on the bottom), and there is no sweater that perfectly matches theirs (none have a single stripe). this is fascinating, as it perhaps suggest that, if we (the player) had a choice, we *wouldn't* make kris. they aren't something we want, or are even capable of wanting, rather something we're stuck with.

and i suppose the fact that they can't be *created* as a vessel is telling, because we didn't create kris -- they weren't made for us, they're not a player avatar. they're a pre-existing person we just happen to gain possession of.

we weren't made for each other; they don't want us, and we don't seem to want them either (if the inability to choose to create someone like them says anything); funny, then, that in a way we're "soulmates"...

(both pictures are from the deltarune wiki!)

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

[lord-squiggletits]

Also I'm just gonna say that even if it were true that Rodimus was a """""true Prime"""" and Optimus wasn't, that isn't as much of an L for Optimus as people seemingly want it to be.

Like so you're telling me Optimus was never a chosen hero and the burden of the Matrix/leadership pained him morally, emotionally, and physically, yet he still survived 4 million years of war?

You're telling me he wasn't God's Designated Special Boy but he still tried his best to live up to that impossible ideal to the point of developing serious depression and suicidal ideation as a result of so much goddamn loneliness and self-doubt?

Optimus wasn't a "true Prime" and yet he still believed in ideals of reconciliation and ending the cycle of violence? He wasn't a true Prime but he still stayed on Cybertron trying to fix a broken, broken society while also trying to stop Earth from being invaded for a second time? He didn't even need to do that he could've just stayed in exile which he was originally supposed to do all along, and which he would've personally preferred?? You're telling me that Optimus wasn't Primus' Specialest Boy And Chosen Leader and yet he stepped into leadership anyways bc he perceived that there was injustice to be fixed??

Wow yeah I guess Optimus is just such an inferior leader, clearly his actual actions/moral character as person don't matter and his "worthiness" should be judged solely on whether the Magic Cybertronian 8 Ball liked him or not.

[swampthingking]

oh! oh </3 oh!! okay!

[dnangelic]

the hollow nonviolence but nevertheless heavily palpable longing and empty vastness of daisuke's heart. post

[constantvariations]

One of Hello Future Me's videos on revolution brought up an event from the Philippines back in the 80s: the dictator sent a battalion to crush a supposed revolt, only for the soldiers to be met with nuns and children offering food and water. The majority of the army defected as a result

I'm going to use rwby to try hammering this abstract concept into a coherent thought, but this incident got me thinking about how nonviolent protest is theater

If a similar event were to occur in rwby, for it to be successful, the protestors would have to be the cutesy faunus types: rabbits, cats, dogs, and the like because they're non-threatening. Attacking a sweet cat faunus would be akin to attacking a child or nun, paragons of innocence and virtue respectively. Only a monster could cut them down, and no one wants to be seen as a monster

A scorpion faunus, though? Their mere existence is a threat. That tail is dangerous, a weapon available at all times. Bull faunus have horns they can use to gouge out eyes and organs. Claim they attacked and most people would agree that killing them in self-defense is justified

Because nonviolent resistance relies on public perception, people who could possibly taint the image of the movement will get left in the dark no matter how important they are. Bayard Rustin was the one who taught Dr King about civil disobedience and was an organizer for many major events, but he opted to ride to events in the trunk of people's cars so his status as an openly gay man wouldn't harm the movement's image

There would be little wonder why the White Fang would be more popular with the "scarier" faunus. Public perception is already against them, so it's not going to change much for them if they join a violent organization, but this in turn will be seen as justification for discrimination against these types of faunus. A hellish self-perpetuating cycle

These faunus would also be far more likely to experience violence at a much younger age, akin to how black children are treated as adults even if they're literally six years old

The strategy behind nonviolent protest like the ones Dr King did is to show the world the mistreatment of the innocent, but when your existence is deemed a threat, there's little hope that you'll ever get enough support to change the system. This is why bigots constantly spew the "queer groomer" and black crime "statistics": by portraying someone's freedom as a danger to the innocent, any level of violence is justifiable defense. The police aren't attacking queers, black, and brown folk discriminately, they're attacking dangerous criminals, so it's okay!!1!

Theater can't save those already condemned and to try is wasted effort

[bumblingbabooshka]

A Star Trek Novel called “Pocket Full of Lies” really has NO business going so hard.

[when-did-this-become-difficult]

me livestreaming the ohio senate in the minutes leading up to a vote that will determine whether or not gender affirming care is outright banned for minors: this is the bad place

"It also prevents doctors from prescribing hormones, puberty blockers or gender reassignment surgery before patients turn 18" per the Cincinnati Enquirer.

[canichangemyblogname]

Coffee stop stranger to my friend watching a TikTok video: “A terrorist organization uses that phrase to call for jihad, just so you know.”

Me playing dumb because I know this person is just being Arabophobic and Islamophobic: “Which phrase? Alhamdulillah?”

*a pause while they “think” because they don’t know Arabic and have no clue what they’re actually arguing against*

Them: “Yeah. You kids need to stop saying it. It makes people uncomfortable.”

Me: “THANK GOD you were here to tell us. Where would we be without you?”

Old people are so bold and they love to comment on things that are none of their damn business 😑