#how hard it to not be abusive. like genuinely it's not that hard.

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

1)

Real. Societally we need to remember that unintentional harm doesn't make the harm less BAD.

2) (this is gonna turn political or something I guess)

... N o???? Not entirely.

Who is this in reply to in wondering

Absolutely NOT why they're called that in my community. It's because genuinely, when white women start crying, black and brown people are typically killed as the result.

For example (TW SA and Abuse I fucking guess): In the past, a lot of white women would rape black men or force them to do certain actions for them and they generally could not refuse. If they did, their life was GENUINELY at risk because the woman would lie about the circumstances to save her own ass AND/OR as punishment. ALSO, if they got PREGNANT by a black man, they would cry "rape" which, you know, ended with that black man beat to death.

Another example of "white woman tears" would be a white woman and a black woman disagreeing or getting into something of an argument, and the white woman starting to cry, especially if while telling the black woman to "stop being so aggressive" and "calm down." Even if they're literally just the same level of angry. But it doesn't even HAVE to be the woman saying anything like that because in (Americans society at least) people will ALREADY see that woman as the aggressor which puts her at significant risk.

And honestly, can even, unintentionally be manipulation because of the fact that crying is often a learned response into terms of anger as opposed to others because of how it gets people to treat you differently.

Which then

Like yeah that can be a fucking anxiety response and shit but that's STILL causing fucking harm and THAT is where you gotta understand that your tears are NOT without consequence for others.

Everyone is allowed to cry. There are so many situations where we are allowed to cry. Crying in general is not manipulative. And crying at a fucking film or the thought of a dog without legs or something? Not manipulative.

But in certain contexts? Even if not intentional...yeah.

And we people, who cry really easily, gotta learn how to kinda control it kind of better. Not bottle it up but also be able to just leave or whatever.

One time I was crying really hard and then realized I had stop even involuntarily crying and was just continuing to cry and was able to stop.

But also that was genuinely during a time when I was being abused so that was low-key different

Anyways

Don't listen to me. Idk what I'm saying. Listen to people with a PHD or whatever.

Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

[signanothername]

How would your killer react to Dadmare? Like, would he be just shocked?

I’d say less shocked and more uncomfortable, maybe even downright disgusted

Seeing the guy who abuses him act exactly nothing like it? Acting the complete opposite? Yeah I think Killer would be quite uncomfortable

And it’ll also be very uncomfortable for him if he sees Dadmare’s interaction with his own Killer

And especially if Dadmare actually treats him the same kind way he treats his own killer

I think it’ll even be a bit hard to believe for him, thinking it might be just another one of Nightmare’s mind games

Regardless of whether it’s actually a mind game or not, Killer wouldn’t wanna be near him, whatever misplaced kindness this other version of Nightmare shows, he’s pouring it into the wrong direction

Cause if you look at it from Killer’s perspective as the abused, having his abuser act genuinely kind to him would just feel invalidating to the abuse he goes through at best, and remind him of his own abuse at worst, considering how Bitchmare (my Nightmare) also shows Killer some “gentleness”

Needless to say, this “Dadmare” is still Nightmare, so Killer won’t do anything to him, won’t attack him, won’t dare flinch away from his touch, won’t tell him to fuck off, cause it all goes against his conditioning, so you can imagine how hell it’ll be if he ever got stuck with this “Dadmare”

It’ll just feel like going from one hell inducing prison, just to get into another hell inducing prison

Regardless, Killer wouldn’t like Dadmare at all, unsurprising, cause he never liked Nightmare anyway

Ahem, decided to make something quick cause the idea of my Killer and Bitchmare even meeting Dadmare at all is funny af

[creelarke]

unpopular opinions but filming yourself cry and posting it on social media is weird and I’ll never understand why this is so normalized on tiktok. like I get it if you cry because you got emotional while watching a movie or tv show and then film yourself and post the video to show how moving the media is or how invested you are. or if you film yourself crying because you have to later use it as evidence of abuse or something like that. or if you feel like you have to speak up about something and you got overwhelmed to the point you start crying, like I totally get it if that was the case. but for the most cases people film themselves crying because they’re supposed to genuinely be upset / heartbroken / mourning something and they film and post it with the main purpose of letting strangers know they really are upset / heartbroken / mourning something. and I’m not trying to invalidate anybody’s feelings, though sometimes it’s hard to like… know for sure if they’re crying because they’re genuinely hurting or if they want strangers to view their videos and believe they’re genuinely hurting. obviously there is absolutely nothing wrong with crying. but like. is the subject that pains you reason you cry or is being able to film yourself cry and post it on tiktok for likes and views the reason you cry? sometimes there're aspects of your life that tiktok does not need to know and sometimes it's better to guard your personal matters and keep them private for your own sake and safety, you know

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.2  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.3

p.2

AN: Thank you for reading part 2! Again each of these will be around 3k in length. Enjoy!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Another

Cleaning had always been second nature to you, a skill drilled into you by your clan as a symbol of discipline and control.

The ways of a proper young lady.

Back then, it had been another way to meet their rigid standards, but now, in Toji’s apartment, it served a different purpose. You weren’t trying to meet anyone’s expectations. It felt more like you were creating a space that felt livable, even comforting. As you scrubbed and tidied, echoes of your clan’s demands lingered in your mind.

Megumi stayed holed up in his room, avoiding you, though you suspected it wasn’t out of rudeness. Maybe he was still figuring you out, testing the waters before deciding how to interact. You couldn't blame him. This was all new and strange for both of you.

As you scrubbed the counters and sorted through laundry, you tried to keep yourself busy, hoping to quiet the restless hum of your thoughts. The spiraling.

But the silence of the apartment only amplified them, leaving you with little to do but reflect.

You thought long and hard about your next move—about what you wanted to do and what you were willing to endure. You hadn’t expected to make it this far, away from the suffocating grip of your clan, away from the ways they’d meticulously instilled into you. This already felt like a step up. 

No one was yelling. No one was crying. And most importantly, no one was punishing you for merely existing. And for once, you could breathe. 

But could you settle here? Could you turn this into a real home? The thought carried a weight you hadn’t anticipated, especially when you considered who you were married to.

Toji Fushiguro.

The infamous thirty-something gambler whose reputation preceded him. His name carried weight—none of it good. You’d only heard whispers about him before, rumors about the "Sorcerer Killer" who couldn’t see curses but had carved a place for himself in a world that didn’t want him. The name he was making for himself wasn’t the kind anyone would aspire to have. And now, he was your husband. Could he truly be better than what you’d left behind?

Marriage had never been a simple thing for people like you. It was a transaction, a tool for power and alliances, not a partnership. You'd settled your thoughts with that. But you couldn’t be sure what kind of man Toji would turn out to be. So far, he was an enigma—evasive, blunt, and not exactly brimming with warmth.

When you first met Toji, you’d been terrified.

His voice, gruff and laced with irritation, felt like a warning in itself, and his towering, muscular frame only added to the daunting image. You hadn’t known what to expect from him—your mind raced with possibilities. Many clan marriages ended in misery. Beaten wives, suffocating restrictions, and vows that served only to bind. The unknown had loomed large that day.

You’d been genuinely shocked when Toji had even shown up to the meeting. After all, he already had a history—a wife before you, a notorious rebellious streak, and a reputation soaked in blood. What had happened to her? The question lingered in your mind, twisting your thoughts into a frantic swirl as you tried to piece together what kind of man he was and what exactly you might be walking into. Not that you had much of a choice.

To your relief, he left shortly after the meeting, without forcing himself on you or issuing a set of suffocating rules. But even without his demands, you already knew your place. How could you not? The weight of the clan’s expectations had been drilled into you for as long as you could remember.

Still, the questions remained.

Could you trust him? Could he truly protect you from the very people who had pushed you into this marriage? Or would he become like the others you’d seen—the cruel, controlling men who treated their wives as tools, not partners? For now, all you could do was wait and hope.

If things got sticky, you could run. But the thought terrified you. Your clan wasn’t known for letting their investments go so easily.  They had their motives, their expectations for you, and you knew better than to think they’d let you walk away unscathed. The marriage was a tool to them, a means to an end, and the moment you stopped being useful, they wouldn’t hesitate to dissolve it.

The questions would start soon if you didn’t make an appearance at the estate for a ‘visit.’ You’d have to come up with something to keep them satisfied, a way to buy yourself more time. But would it be enough? You weren’t about to stoop to spying, but maybe if you offered them the bare minimum, it could hold them off. Still, you knew the risk. The moment they decided you weren’t fulfilling your purpose, they’d drag you back.

Back to the suffocating walls of their estate. Back to the life you’d fought so hard to escape. Back to another arranged marriage—this time, likely to someone far worse. Someone who wouldn’t tolerate even a shred of independence. The thought was unbearable, and yet, the fear of that possibility clung to you like a shadow, refusing to let go.

You had no illusions about what they were capable of. They’d find you. They’d make an example of you. You’d seen it happen before—to women who had dared to defy their place, who had tried to escape. The consequences were always swift, brutal, and served as a warning to others.

The only thing keeping you from that fate was this house.

Toji.

For all his flaws, for all the uncertainty that surrounded him, Toji was the barrier between you and the life you so desperately wanted to escape. The clan couldn’t touch you here—not while you were under his roof. His name and infamous reputation were enough to keep them at bay for now. But what about when he left the clan for good? You’d heard it whispered countless times—how he’d distanced himself, how he was already one step out the door.

So why had he even agreed to this marriage? It didn’t serve him. If anything, it seemed like another chain, another tie he’d likely resent. What had convinced him to take on a responsibility that did him no favors?

The thought nagged at you as you clung to the fragile sense of safety he unknowingly provided. As much as you despised the precariousness of your situation, you couldn’t ignore that he was the only thing keeping the clan’s shadow from falling over you entirely.

For now, you had to play the game carefully. Toji was unpredictable, but at least he wasn’t actively cruel. You’d take your chances with him over returning to the hell you’d left behind.

Still, he hadn’t returned, yet. When would he come home?  Sure it'd only been a day, but...

Would he even explain what this arrangement meant for you both, or just leave you to figure it out on your own? Would he have a list of rules like your clan house? Would you have expectations to sleep with him? You let out a sigh, feeling the weight of uncertainty press heavier on your shoulders. The hours were dragging. 

When lunchtime rolled around, you prepared food for both yourself and Megumi. Doubling the portions, you were glad he was starting to warm up to you, even if only slightly. Knocking softly on his door, you waited for a moment before it creaked open.

Megumi stood there, his expression unreadable as usual, but he took the plate with a small nod. “Thanks,” he muttered before retreating back into his room, the door closing firmly behind him.

So, you ate alone.

It wasn’t the solitude that stung the most—it was the familiarity of it. Sitting at the quiet table, your thoughts drifted to the countless meals you’d eaten alone back at the clan house. Sure this home was better than your previous, yet the echoes of those days crept back in, uninvited, and settled heavily in your chest. You’d thought leaving that life behind would make things different, that here, in this little apartment, you could find something resembling peace.

But for now, the silence was deafening.

You reminded yourself to remember that this was better and you needed to be patient. Megumi wasn’t cruel or rude—just guarded. He was still so young, still figuring out his place in all of this. And maybe, you thought, you needed to adjust to him just as much as he needed to adjust to you.

So, you cleared your plate, brushed off the dull ache settling in your chest, and told yourself that this was temporary. It was just a matter of time.

Later in the day, you decided to step out for groceries. The apartment was practically empty, the fridge holding little more than condiments and a few questionable leftovers. You couldn’t fathom how Toji and Megumi had been surviving off such meager scraps.  You’d noticed the state of things your first day there, picking up a few essentials just to scrape by. But today, you decided it was time to stock up properly.

Standing by the front door, you hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Megumi’s room. A small part of you debated whether to ask him to come along. It might have been nice to have the company, and perhaps the outing could bridge some of the growing gap between you. But you quickly pushed the thought aside.

He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his responsibility. It was yours. You were the one trying to build a home here, the one who had stepped into this precarious role.

With a quiet sigh, you grabbed your shopping list and headed out the door. It wasn’t a long walk to the nearby market, but as you made your way down the street, a faint unease crept over you. You couldn’t help but think back to your clan and their constant monitoring.

By the time you returned, your arms were weighed down with bags. Maybe you’d gotten carried away, but everything seemed so necessary. Stumbling through the front door, you dumped the bags onto the counter with a relieved sigh.

Megumi peeked out from the doorway, alerted by the sound. “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” you said, turning slightly to smile at him, still catching your breath. “Got some food for tonight.”

He frowned, his gaze shifting to the hefty bags on the counter.

“Didja walk all this back yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you replied with a small hum, stretching your back before reaching to start putting things away.

Before you could even grab the first item, Megumi stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he gently nudged you aside. “Go rest. I’ll put it ‘way,” he muttered, his voice low and rough around the edges, but without any real bite.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, but decided not to argue. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen table, watching him move around the room. His movements were deliberate and efficient as he pulled items from the bags. He inspected each one carefully, as though weighing its importance before putting it into its proper place.

For a moment, you forgot the weight of everything else and simply watched. Megumi, for all his prickliness, had his own way of showing appreciation—even if he didn’t say it out loud. It was hard not to notice how much care he put into something so simple. He still reminded you of a grumpy old cat—aloof, guarded, but with moments of surprising thoughtfulness. There was something endearing about it, about him. A small giggle escaping you as the thought crossed your mind.

Megumi glanced over his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone flat, though the faint red at the tips of his ears betrayed his irritation.

“Nothing,” you replied with a light chuckle, a small smile playing on your lips. “Just thinking about how teenagers can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Stubborn?” he repeated, his tone edged with skepticism. “I’m not stubborn. You’re acting like I’m some little kid or something.”

The amused smile tugging at your lips only grew as you tilted your head at him. “Well, aren’t you? Just a little bit, maybe?”

His scowl deepened, and the flush on his cheeks darkened, the faint hint of embarrassment making him look even more endearing. “I’m not a kid. I’m almost fourteen,” he muttered, his voice firm, though it teetered dangerously close to a pout.

You chuckled, unable to resist teasing him just a bit more. He was too cute when he got ruffled. “Fourteen, huh? Practically a grown-up. My bad.”

Megumi’s gaze darted away briefly before snapping back to you, his tone quieter but still holding a note of defiance. “You’re not that much older than me. You’re what? Sixteen?”

His words startled a laugh out of you, and you shook your head, unable to hide your amusement. “Sixteen? Try eighteen, Megumi. I’m officially an adult, thank you very much.”

His eyes widened slightly at the revelation before narrowing again, as if processing the information. “Eighteen?” he muttered under his breath, his skepticism clear. “You don’t look eighteen.”

Feigning offense, you straightened your posture. “Well, I am,” you said with mock indignation. “And as the adult here, I think I get to call you a kid.”

Megumi huffed, crossing his arms as the faint pink tint spread to his ears. “You don’t act like an adult,” he mumbled, quieter this time. “You’re more like a bossy older sister.”

That made you grin even wider. Was that supposed to be an insult? Because it only made him sound more adorable. “Bossy older sister, huh? I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He avoided your gaze, pretending to focus on folding one of the empty grocery bags. “Take it however you want,” he muttered, his tone clipped, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said playfully. “But I’m still older than you, and that makes you the kid, like it or not.”

Megumi frowned but didn’t argue further. Instead, he busied himself with the counter, his lips pressed into a firm line. “I’m not a kid,” he mumbled again, though the conviction in his voice had softened.

You raised your hands in mock surrender, your tone kind and teasing. “Alright, alright. You’re not a kid. You’re a very mature almost-fourteen-year-old. Better?”

He didn’t respond right away, but the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gave him away. Turning his attention back to the counter, he muttered, “Whatever,” though the twitch at the corner of his mouth told you he wasn’t entirely annoyed.

You leaned back in your chair, watching him with a mix of fondness and curiosity. Megumi had a way of endearing himself without even realizing it. His insistence on not being treated like a kid, the way he tried to act older than he was—it was all so very… Megumi-esque. And you hadn't even know the kid for long. Not even a day.

“You know,” you said gently, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to rush to grow up so fast. Fourteen—or almost fourteen—is a good age to just… be.”

Megumi glanced at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if to challenge your words, but there was no real bite in his expression. “I’m not rushing anything,” he said after a pause, his tone quieter, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to be treated like some helpless kid.”

Now that got your attention. You tilted your head, your smile softening. “I don’t think you’re helpless, Megumi. Not at all. I just think it’s okay to let people care about you sometimes. It doesn’t make you less grown-up.”

He didn’t reply, his gaze flickering back to the counter, but you could see the wheels turning in his head. And then there was the way he lingered. The groceries were already put away, yet he didn’t leave. He didn’t know why he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it. But his actions spoke louder than words ever could: maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind you being there after all. Psycho-ex of his dads or otherwise.

While making dinner, Megumi hovered close to your elbows, his dark eyes following your every movement with quiet intensity. He didn’t say a word, but his focus was unwavering, soaking in every detail. Your cooking so far had been phenomenal. Enough to make the kid jealous. He wanted to learn, that much was clear—wanted to memorize the steps, the measurements, the little techniques you used. You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just curiosity. 

His silence didn’t bother you. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to chatter away, filling the room with a one-sided conversation that you hoped wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You explained every step meticulously, breaking it down like a cooking show. Megumi didn’t interrupt or huff at you. Instead, he absorbed it all like a sponge, his head tilting slightly when you mentioned something new.

“Toji must not be much of a cook,” you remarked at one point, glancing at him with a teasing smile. His lips twitched upward for the briefest moment, a ghost of a smile that made your chest tighten with warmth. Even when you explained the most basic things, like how to dice an onion properly, Megumi listened as though it were the most important lecture of his life.

The thought made you pause for a moment. It made sense—Megumi was still young, and cooking had always been considered a woman’s role in traditional clan life. And considering Toji’s seemingly chaotic lifestyle and the lack of a maternal figure, it was no wonder this felt new to him.

Still, the conversation flowed a little easier that evening. Each fleeting moment of ease melted your heart a little more. You were already developing a soft spot for the kid, despite his grumpy attitude. That much was obvious. You hadn’t had many interactions with children back at the clan estate—everything there had been too rigid, too suffocating for anything resembling normal relationships. So this, the tentative beginnings of friendship, felt… nice.

But even in those moments, there was still a frigid layer of distance he maintain between you two—a protective barrier he refused to let you pass. Distrusting, yes, but not beyond reach. He was still trying to figure you out, sizing you up, before deciding whether you were even worth the effort of trusting.

Why the hell was this kid so frosty? Was it Toji? The absence of a mother? Or something else entirely? You weren’t sure, but the guarded way Megumi carried himself—the abrasiveness, the defensive huffiness—stirred something in you.

You’d seen plenty of kids like him back in the clan house. Some were cold and indifferent, their walls impenetrable. Others carried arrogance like armor, wielding it to hide their insecurities. But the ones who stayed with you—the ones who truly stuck in your memory—were those too weak to defend themselves, cast aside for showing too much emotion. Beaten into shape. Megumi wasn’t like that, obviously. But the thought of him enduring anything similar made you feel...protective.

When you finally sat down to eat, the food turned out fantastic. Megumi, ever stoic, simply nodded in approval as he ate, but you caught the way his chopsticks moved a little faster than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.

“Not bad, right?” you teased lightly, hoping to draw a reaction from him.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours for a fleeting second before he mumbled, “It’s good.” Another almost-smile.

It was your second day in and you were starting to feel like this wasn't such a bad arrangement.

p.3?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

[pincushionx]

Imagine an AU where Belos is imprisoned after Titan Luz defeats him rather than killed.

Then one day Hunter comes to visit him in his prison and he asks if Belos ever thought he could have been happy with him.

And (and I know this would be OOC for him) Belos can't bring himself to answer. He would gladly say no just to make Hunter feel bad, or maybe even say yes to manipulate him, but he actually finds himself lost for words.

Hmmm, this is outside of what you asked but I wonder if Belos did have any sort of love for Hunter.

It’s already stated that Belos created Hunter as a toddler. It’s still unconfirmed if he made any other baby grimwalkers. I’m also pretty sure it was confirmed that he experimented on grimwalkers too, so not every grimwalker was a Golden Guard. So I’m going to assume all the previous Golden Guards where older teens to adults. I wonder if he had any attachment to Hunter, I mean he was around since he was basically a baby. It’s hard to imagine not having some fondness for something like that but again this is Belos.

I see different thoughts on why Belos created the grimwalkers, some say it was Belos way of justifying himself and reliving the betrayal over and over, it was genuinely to get an ideal version of Caleb, to have a new brother to take care of him, ect. I genuinely wonder if Belos ever loved a grimwalker, maybe the early ones but that was hundreds of years ago and that’s still a maybe.

He hallucinates Caleb looking down on him, disappointed. He knows subconsciously that what he doing is wrong but he’s too far deep into his delusion that he’s saving mankind from these sinful witches.

In the end they are just tools, an uncanny replacement for the brother he murdered and never got over.

But at the same time he did express disappointment at Hunter not lasting, the collector also question why he didn’t kill Hunter when he had the chance to after eclipse lake which is odd if Hunter is so replaceable. That he genuinely believed that Hunter would stay in line and be his most loyal one.

Actually now that I think about it, Hunter never betrayed Belos explicitly. He only rebelled in small ways like studying wild magic, making friends and having a palismen which Lilith also had. Hunter only nearly got killed because he found out the truth but Belos never gave him the chance to plead for mercy or the option to come back. Who knows if Hunter would have gone back if he was given the chance, Belos could have at least attempted to manipulate him to believing what he saw was fake or something.

He says their betrayals hurt but never shows it. While I do think the grimwalkers are set for failure since the start, he might have had hope that Hunter would have lasted since this one he actually raised this one and the fact that Hunter was actually loyal and devoted to him. It hurts how much this kid loves him.

Idk if the other grimwalkers were tricked to believing Belos was their family or something but Hunter loved him like a father figure and wanted his approval so badly and Belos knew this.

To your hypothetical, imprisoned Belos Au are interesting but something you don’t see often. I think he would spend a lot of time pondering, praying and wondering what if’s. Considering there’s not much to do when you’re locked up. He allowed himself to live in ignorance and hate for so long, was it even worth it? Could have he been happy in a place like the boiling isles? What if he never killed Caleb? What if he never left the human realm? What if he never made a daring spell? Why did he make coven again? What if he gave which kind a chance…? What if he never abused his grimwalkers? It all too crazy and he’s spiraling.

Hunter visits one day despite being told it not a good idea. But how could he not? Despite being abused and hurt in unfathomable ways by him, he still loves him in sick way. He was his only family for so long, that man who kept him isolated. He still fantasizes about being fussed over and loved by Belos, still has ‘fond’ memories of him. So to Belos surprise, the Grimwalker he once killed and abused is now sitting in front of him, ready to chat.

They talk for a bit, Hunter tells him a bit about the outside word and the changes made. He isn’t aggressive or confrontational, he couldn’t be even if he wanted to. Belos stays silent, unsure of what to say. Most grimwalkers expressed hatred before death, yet this one who he actually once killed was chatting with him like it was a normal day. Hunter is terrified but he keeps chatting, pretending this is fine. Belos tries to make his own comments and redirect the conversations but can’t. He lost for words because he’s in a situation not even he foresaw. He expected rage, ridicule or even tears but not this. Hunter was talking to him like he was still family.

I imagine Hunter, in his ill mind, still thinking of Belos as family. Still someone he wants to love despite everything. That he often thinks of him even on good days.

Soon Hunter asks that question if Belos could have ever been happy with him, if he ever loved him. Hunter believes that answer is no, he was already marked for the slaughter with that sigil, a dead man walking. Even if he wants that answer so badly to be yes.

And Belos can’t answer because he’s already thought of this. Could he have been happy with Hunter? Was he fond of Hunter? Was Hunter just a replacement? Was he a good replacement? Could he have loved him outside of being a replacement? Was there any love for the child he raised?

He could say no and hurt Hunter, the ‘love’ was always conditional, he was just a tool, was meant to be dead, ect. (But that might drive Hunter away and Belos is lonely)

He could say yes and give Hunter false hope, manipulate him, make him take pity, revive that old loyalty, ect. (He could get caught in this monitored state and get his only loyal companion ripped away)

But he can’t answer because he doesn’t know. It’s been so long since he had loved. He hated for far too long, he got rid of any chance to love. Was it possible to be happy with Hunter? Just him being Hunter and not some tool or replacement?

Idk this concept is good, I genuinely wonder what would have happened if Belos did actually love Hunter. I don’t think he does or ever did, he was just upset that his tools broke faster than he thought it would but it’s an interesting thought. I think if Belos and Hunter did start to bond in this Au, everything would be bittersweet in the worse ways.

[glassartpeasants]

How To Love .05

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: animal death, stalking, mentions of abuse, angst, it is edited best to my slow computer abilities

A/N: here it is. yayyyyyyyyyy

~~~

Days pass without a word from the police regarding your car or the person who totaled it. Each second of the day, you checked your phone, praying for a call or a message, yet nothing. The thought of that psycho coming to the apartment haunted your dreams. They’d be staring over you, watching you sleep. And when you’d see them, they’d pull out a knife and bring their hand down. Thankfully, you always woke up before the knife actually hit you. 

It causes you to lose sleep to the point that you rely on coffee and energy drinks even to keep your eyes open. The paranoia and dread that something was wrong, a shadow towering over you, was genuinely exhausting—mentally, physically, and emotionally. 

Thankfully, Law had been getting off around the same time as you, so he would be able to drive you home. Eustass had offered a few times, but you declined. It was still hard to be next to him. To look at the face of a man who had shattered your heart so carelessly. While you were grateful for him taking you home and getting you McDonald's that night. You still weren’t able to not want to beat the shit out of him just for making you go through the heartbreak.

Then again, if it weren’t for his infidelity, you wouldn’t have reconnected with Law. You haven’t felt like this even when with Eustass. It was just like you could stare at him for hours and never get bored. Listen to him rant and ramble about his work day or the new episode of Sora the two of you watched together. There wasn’t anything he did that you could complain about. You’d do anything for him if he asked.

“(Y/N)! Did you get the mail?” Law’s voice clears the smoke in your thoughts, returning you to the present.

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t! I’ll be right back and get it, though!” Without wasting a breath, you put on your shoes before opening the door. Still, being careful of your hand that contains the burn you received only days prior.

As you open the door, a horrific stench hits your nose, causing you to cover your nose and mouth with your shirt. Your brows furrow as you peek your head out of the apartment, wondering what could cause such a terrible scent.

“What is…” Stepping outside, you're met with a shoebox the size of a child’s box. Kneeling, you examine the box. Pulling off one of your sliders, you use the back of it to open the lid. Upon opening it up, the stench worsens, causing you to gag. “What the hell is in there?”

Taking a cautious step towards the box, you once again use the back of your shoe to flip up the lid quickly. Holding your breath, you look inside the box before letting out a shrieking scream. The scream causes you to stumble back into the apartment before you slam the door shut. Tears stream down your face as you tremble behind the door.

Hearing the commotion, Law rushes to your aide, a look of worry and panic written on his face. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong? What happened?” He kneeled to your level to try and comfort you. You point to the door and look up at him with glassy eyes and a trembling lip.

“Outside…in the box.” A sense of unease fills Law’s stomach as he stands up. Taking another look at your terrified form, he rolls his shoulders before opening the door.

Upon opening the door, Law sees an open shoe box before the unruly scent hits his nose. “Jesus Christ-” Looking over the open lid of the shoebox, Law can feel his stomach churn. Inside the small shoebox was multiple pictures of you.

Pictures of you at work, coming home, shopping, and even some from outside the window. Many zoomed in and decorated with markers, depicting you in many ways. Black sharpie scribbled your face out, x’s over your eyes, adding horns and a tail, and even with names that he couldn’t fathom. And on top of it all, there was a dead pigeon on top of the pictures. It looks to have been deceased for a while, which is the cause of the smell.

“What the fuck?”

“I can’t believe he’s dead…” The sound of your mourns makes Law turn back to you.

“He?”

Puffy-eyed, you grab onto Law’s pajama pants leg as you struggle to breathe. “Stumpy…he was a hurt pigeon that I cared for outside my job during the winter since he doesn’t have a wing on his left side. He can’t fly and relies on me and the other cafe workers to survive. When he stopped showing up, I-...” Turning your head, you get another glimpse of the poor animal's corpse before snapping right back straight, the sight only causing more tears.

“I can’t believe someone would do something so horrible to him.” As you cried, Law couldn’t get over the multiple photos of you that were taken without you even noticing—each more eerie than the last. The fact that the person responsible hurt something that mattered to you meant this had to be someone from your inner circle.

Questions sped through his mind about who it’d be, but despite his need for answers, he knew that questions would probably upset you more. And he hated seeing you cry. 

Law sat down next to you after closing the door, leaving the disturbing scene behind him as he sat on the floor beside you. His heart beat in his chest at the proximity between the two of you, the heat of your body hitting his own as he put his arm around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” Law felt his heart leap when you put your head on his shoulder, curling up in the comfort he offered.

“Who could do something so cruel? To take a life like that?” You whispered into his shoulder.

“I don’t know. Only a few people and your co-workers knew about him, right?” Nodding into his shoulder, you clutch the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah. People outside my job were (.....) and Eustass. And now, you. I could have sworn I told you…”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I’m going to call the police to come and take the box. I have a feeling it has something to do with your car.”

Pulling out his phone, Law dials the police, his arm wrapped around your huddled body in a firm embrace. A small fire sparked in Law’s chest as he saw how serious it had become. Initially, Law thought it was a simple case of wrong identity when your car got vandalized, but now, with the scribbled pictures and the targeted attack on something that meant a lot to you, it was apparent he was wrong—very wrong.

You hadn’t said anything about the pictures, so he hoped that you were too distracted and distraught about ‘Stumpy’ to notice the multiple pictures. Hopefully, it’d give you some semblance of sanity not to have to feel fear in your own home, knowing someone was watching you.

~~~

You didn’t want to tell your co-workers about Stumpy or the photos that had shown up on your doorstep the day prior. Didn’t want to break their hearts and let them worry about a problem that wasn’t their own. It was hard to hide the shaken and paranoid look you now held in your eyes.

You knew why Law hadn’t brought up the pictures; he didn’t want you to have something more to worry about. While your heart fluttered at first, it was still overpowered by fear. You wished you hadn’t seen it. Wished you were left in the dark about the fact you couldn’t even the curtains open anymore in fear someone was watching you out of them.

Since Law didn’t know you knew about the pictures, he wanted you to stay home so that you didn’t have to be at work alone at night. While you would’ve agreed to it if the box had shown up at your job, it didn’t. It showed up at your door, right before the place that’s supposed to keep you safe from the horrors of the world. Now, what once had a feeling of safety had been tainted.

“Hey! Are you going to take my order or what?!” A snarky voice pulled you from your mind, dragging you back to the present.

“Oh-oh yeah, sorry. What can I get you, ma’am?”

Rolling her eyes, the woman crossed her arms and answered. “I’d like a thunderstorm Turnover with the Morning Matcha Latte. Hot.”

“Of course, and what size will that latte be?”

“Small.”

“Perfect, and your total comes to $7.86. I’ll get your turnover and wait for your drink down there.” With a huff, the lady pays and waits at the end of the counter. You rub your face with your hands before grabbing the monster next to the cash register and taking a huge chug of the carbonated drink.

Putting back down the monster can, you feel a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got this. How about taking some water instead? You look like you could use it.” Killer’s comforting and understanding aura has you letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, Killer.”

Going into the breakroom, you pour yourself some water before taking a nice sip of the cold liquid. Even with it sliding down your throat, you felt no different, so you cup your hand that wasn’t injured and let water fill them before splashing it on your face. “Come on (Y/N), get your shit together. You're fine. Nobody’s outside, the sun is still up, and I won’t be closing alone. Law will pick me up and keep me safe like he promised.” The sound of your heart echoing in your ears has your head spinning violently.

“Fuck, man. This shit sucks.”

A vibration in your pocket causes your attention to shift to your muted phone. Pulling it out, you see it’s from an unknown number. Typically, you’d never answer it, always figuring it’s from spam callers. But with everything going on, you felt this could have something to do with your stalker. If you answered it, could you use the number to track them down?

So, with a deep breath, you answer the unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?”

Swallowing your spit, you respond. “Um, yes, it is. Can I help you?”

“Great! So your services are still available then?”

“My services? I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a bitch. I’m a paying customer! Why put up ads for sex if you're just gonna be a prude broad?” Furrowing your brows, you pull your face away from the phone, looking down at the cellular device in shock.

“Excuse me, asshole, but I have no idea what you're talking about, so shove your pissy attitude up your dick and trip on a knife.” You slam your thumb down on the end button before blocking the number.

Ad’s? For sex? Not only have you never done anything like that before in your life, but why the hell would someone put up such an ad? And what desperate bastard would actually agree to something when it’s 9/10 a scam or a way to get robbed?

It didn’t make sense. How did your number and name get on a website that promotes that? It’s not like you give your number out to strangers. Especially not online. So how the hell could this happen?

RING! RING! RING!

Looking down, you see another unknown number. Narrowing your eyes, you have a sinking feeling about the nature of this call. “Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful. I hear you're looking for a good time.”

“No!” Once again, you end the call quickly, slamming it down on the countertop. “Fuck!”

Looking into the mirror, small tears of frustration slip past your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away before shoving your phone back into your pocket. With a quick, shaky exhale, you return to the front, ready to continue what seemed like a never-ending day. 

It occurred to you that the calls could relate to the harassment you’ve been experiencing. And despite narrowing it down, the thought of someone giving out your personal number to strangers for sex made you sick. The cops could track down the people who made the call, right? They have to. Maybe you could leave early and have Law bring you to the police station to give them an update. 

As you move to the register, a man approaches the counter. His face is neutral, but there is a look behind his eyes that gives you goosebumps.

“Hello. I’m Officer David, and I'm here to ask your co-workers about your case and the shoebox that was delivered to your apartment.”

“Oh! I can get them for you!” Not wasting a second, you rush to grab Killer and another co-worker to answer the officer's questions.

While you didn’t doubt he was an officer, as you saw the badge when you looked closer, he just gave you an icky feeling. “Hey, Killer, Janet, an officer wants to talk to you guys. It’s about my car?” You didn’t add the pictures or the corpse of Stumpy once again. Once again, wanting to spare them the pain of knowing a beloved shop ‘pet’ was so brutally slain.

Killer and Janet looked at one another before nodding and moving toward the cop. “I’ll finish your guys' orders, no biggie.” After giving them a thumbs-up, you quickly went to work to finish the orders.

“Hey officer, how can we help you?” Killer and Janet go to the register to answer the cops' questions.

“I have a few questions regarding the vandalization of Ms. (L/N)’s car, the shoe box full of pictures, and the animal carcass dropped off at her apartment.”

“Shoe box? We don’t know anything about a shoe box officer.”

“Yeah, first time I’m hearing about it.”

“Hmm. Well, have you two seen any suspicious activity or people nearby or around while she’s working?” Killer and Janet look at one another before Janet’s eyes widen.

“You know, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen a red Honda Civic pull up in the parking lot around the same time every day when (Y/N) goes to take a break outside for some air.”

“Actually, yeah, I remember what you're talking about now. It has a huge crack in the front window. It never comes in for anything; it only sits in the parking lot and leaves when (Y/N) comes back in.” The officer hums in acknowledgment as he writes down their statements. 

“I see. I’d like to take a look at the tapes, please.”

“Sure, our manager will be back in ten minutes, and she can open the security camera door for you.” The cop's face turns a little sour before returning to its neutral expression. 

“No need. I’ll simply come back later.” Without another word, the officer left, not sparing you, Janet, or Killer another glance. The lack of lights and identification raised a few questions when he got into his car. But with no real reason to question it, you continue the work day.

~~~

The sound of call lights seems to echo in his ears as he types on his computer. It felt as if the entire day had been nonstop. One moment, there was a young patient with a common cold, and the next, he had a patient having an active heart attack. Yet every moment was spent worrying about you, the box never leaving his mind.

The pictures covered in permanent marker, x’s on your eyes, obscenities scribbled onto it, and even badly drawn art of you being killed in different ways. He was thankful you didn’t see the polaroids. He hoped you didn’t see the polaroids. The security video and deceased work pet were already enough hell for you. You didn’t need to worry about how many knives weren’t in the kitchen block at home.

“Oi, Law! We got a male twenty-three in Trauma Bay nine! Motorcycle accident. Brakes broke, and he ran a red light, getting T-boned by a car.” A nurse barged out in, out of breath, her scrubs already having a bit of blood on them.

Law quickly jumps to his feet and rushes towards the trauma bay. Nurses crowded the body on the bed, and cops waited outside the room, looking serious and communicating with one another.

“Officers, how can I help you?” Law asks as he moves close to the patient, his heart beating in his ears.

“Ah, doctor. We’re suspecting there was more to the crash than it seems.”

Law’s brows furrow. “Foul play?”

“Based on what our other officers at the scene said, it looks like the brakes were cut instead of simply worn out. It was a clean cut, and the brake discs were almost brand new. If anything seems weird at all, let us know without hesitation.”

Nodding, Law turns to the patient. “Alright, I’ll let you know—” Law’s eyes go wide as he looks down at the man lying on the stretcher.

“His stats are-doctor are you okay?”

“I-uh yes, sorry. I got distracted by something else. Tell me his stats again and what you’ve done so far.”

~~~

Looking at your phone, you sigh. Law got caught up in a surgery and couldn’t pick you up. Janet had already left, and Killer had left when he got a call. He didn’t say what it was about, but the look on his mostly covered face told you it was important and urgent. With both of them leaving, you and your manager were the only ones left at the cafe. You were supposed to leave at 5pm, but Law couldn’t make it. You didn’t want to interrupt Killer with whatever emergency he had and were too awkward to call Eustass.

You could always get a taxi, but getting into a car with a stranger sounded like hell with what was going on in your personal life. So you just sat at a booth by a window inside the cafe and huffed. You wanted to go to the police station to report your number being uploaded to a site without your permission, but it was getting dark, and the station was a 20-minute walk.

“Do you want me to call you a taxi? I know a really trustworthy one. He’s my brother, and he does it on the side for extra cash.” Your manager's voice clears the fog from your head and brings you back to the annoying present.

“Oh, no thanks, but thank you anyway, Reiju. I have nothing against you or your many brothers.”

“None taken. I can just see how much you wanna get outta here. Are you going home, or are you going to the hospital to see your lover boy?”

Your face flares hot as your eyes widen. “Shh! Reiju, someone could hear!”

“Oh, please, the cafe is empty, and it’s been empty since 4 p.m., and it’s 5:30. Everyone and their mom can see it. Even the regulars ask me if ‘that barista and tattooed man are together yet?’ almost on a daily basis. Your little love story is great for business, I must say.” Reiju chuckles at your horrified face.

“Reiju, I beg you, please tell me your lying…” Embarrassment fills your soul, and you wish you could disappear at that moment.

“I'm happy to say I'm not. And trust me, everyone thinks it’s so cute!” Smiling, Reiju gives you a hug before pulling out her keys. “Here, as a way to ease your embarrassment, I’ll give you a ride to your house. You still live with the doctor, right?”

Sighing, you run your fingers through your hair. “I mean, yeah, but that's not where I was planning on going. I just need to talk to the police about my situation again.”

“Is there a new development about who busted up your car?”

“I wish but no. Instead, I just got calls about my ‘services.’ From what I gathered between men yelling at me, I was able to pull that someone put my name and number on a random website and say I was willing to have sex for money. I never give my money out to anyone, so how can this happen? No one I know would do something so gross as to try and pimp me out. I’ve literally been getting calls all day by random numbers.”

Reiju gives you a sympathetic look. “Wow. This is…” She goes quiet for a moment before speaking. “Here, I’m giving you a ride. Put your jacket on, and I’ll be right back.”

You watch her run to the break room before returning with jacket and keys in hand.

“Wait, Reiju, who will watch the cafe?”

“It’s closed. Now put on your jacket and watch out for your hand. The burn still hasn’t healed all the way yet.”

“Reiju, I don’t want you to get fired, please. It’s okay-”

“No, it’s not okay. I won’t have one of my employees going through this while I'm on the clock. Not to mention, they won’t fire. Can’t fire their last manager.” She smirks at the end as she turns off the lights. Encasing the cafe in pitch black. Locking the doors, she starts her car and walks you to her vehicle. “Plus, I can just call my dad, and he’ll threaten them with legal action if they fire me. They’d do anything to keep some of their secrets under wraps.”

“Do you always use your dad to get out of being fired?”

“That's the only thing he’s good for, really.” You can’t help but laugh as she shrugs her shoulders and enters the vehicle. After hearing the start of the engine, you follow after her and jump into the passenger seat. 

“Alright, on the road we go.” Reiju pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

~~~

As you walked into the police station, you were greeted by the same cop who came to your aid when your vehicle was first destroyed. You were glad that you had someone familiar to share the new developments with.

“Miss (Y/N), I didn’t think I’d see you tonight. What brings you down to the station this late?” The officer walks you to his desk, motioning you to have a chair.

“Well, I think my stalker has put my number on some sort of site for sex. I don’t know if they did it just today or if it’s been up and just now seen. I’ve been getting calls all day about men asking for sex and to see what my ‘services prices’ are.”

The cop's face drops from welcoming to disgusted. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must feel. Do you have any idea who knows how to do something of this sort?” Pulling up his computer, he tries to search whatever corners of the internet to find the ‘ad.’

“Who all could have your number?”

“Well, I don’t give my number to many people.”

“Do you think it could be some sort of prank?” shaking your head, you dig out your phone to show him the small list of contacts you have.

“I can’t. No one I keep in contact with would do something so…gross. My contact list contains only ten people. Co-workers, my roommate, a friend or two, and regrettably an ex.” The cops hum at the last revelation.

“An ex huh? Are you sure they wouldn’t be the one to put it up? As revenge for the breakup or to be petty?”

“No way. Eustass may be an asshole, but he’d never do something like that.” yet even as you spoke, a spot inside you grew a seed of doubt. Eustass has always been very petty, but he’d never give out your number like this. Then again, you thought he’d never cheat, and now look where it got you.

The cop stops typing before looking at you for a moment. “Eustass? Can you tell me his last name?”

“Yeah, it’s Eustass Kidd. He works at Punk Victoria’s Mechanics?” You watch as the cop's face drops and the gears turn in his head.

“Fire red hair, red nails, and lipstick?”

“Yep.” The sound of your confirmation only seems to trouble him further as you watch him drag his hand over his mouth and look at his computer.

“Well, that makes this much more complicated.”

Furrowing your brows, a sense of unease settles in your gut. “What? Why?” Watching the cop type something on his computer and ignore you makes you dig your nails into your palms. “Why does that make this complicated?”

Turning to you, the cop sighs. “Well, since you are on his emergency contact list and I see that the cop who was supposed to inform you hasn’t, I will be the one to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” The unease in your stomach only bubbles at the look on his face.

“This afternoon, there was an accident on Sterling Road. A motorist ran a red light and was T-boned by a car. The breaks stopped working, which made him unable to stop.”

“And by him…you mean?”

“Eustass. His motorcycle was destroyed in the process. He’s currently in the hospital.” Your hands fly to your mouth as you feel shock rush through your body. A wave of different emotions wash over you. The deep, dark parts of you, the part that still holds anger and rage, is happy karma got him. That he would feel how he felt when he fucked your ex-best friend. Yet another part, the side that aches from the memories of your time together, is horrified and worried. Is he okay? What’s his condition?

His motorcycle was also destroyed. You knew how much it meant to him. After spending so much money and time repairing it, he finally managed to fix it up, only for his breaks to stop working? There was no way Eustass would look over something as important as that.

“There were signs of foul play when we inspected the scene. It seemed his breaks had been cut. There was a clean slice in the middle of the line that couldn’t have been caused by anything other than them being tampered with.” The cop pulled out a piece of paper. “Is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt Eustass?”

“I hadn’t talked to him in the past 5-6 months before last week. His life during that time is a complete mystery to me. I don’t know if he made any enemies since then. But I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt him like that.”

“I see.” The cop looks at his computer before typing something. “I’m seeing a restraining order against a woman called (.....) (..........). Do you know anyone by that name?”

Your blood runs cold upon hearing the name. You never thought you’d hear her name and ‘restraining order’ in the same sentence. Of course, you’ve come to realize she’s a horrible person after fucking Eustass, but hearing that even afterward, she wouldn’t leave him alone furled the growing hate in your heart.

“Yes. She’s my ex-best friend. She slept with Eustass when me and him were still dating and I caught them together. I haven’t talked to her since.”

“Hmm. I see. Has she made an effort to reach out and contact you?”

“No. I have her blocked on everything.”

“But she still has your number, correct?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Alright. Well, I’m glad you came in. It’s helped both your and Eustass’s cases.”

“It has?”

Nodding, the cop begins to pull out some files and other such things. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to write these things down and consult with my co-workers. Feel free to contact me when anything else pops up.” The cop gives you a stick note with his name and work number before sending you on your way.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. There was obviously something he wasn’t telling you. While you know you should just be grateful that they were taking your situation seriously, the fact they're hiding things from you causes an itch you just can’t scratch.

Walking out of the cops' office, you see Reiju waiting for you. “Thanks for waiting, Reiju. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”

Sitting up from her seat, she smiles at you. “No problem. I wasn’t just going to let you walk home in the cold at night. Now, let's get you home. The car might be cold, sorry.”

“It’s better than walking.” You chuckle.

~~~

As you sit in the car, you stare out the window, a somber look on your face. The events of the day drained your energy.

“If you don’t mind me asking, did something else happen in the cops' office? You look more upset than when you went in.” Reiju’s worried voice breaks through your thoughts. You argue whether or not to tell her. Should you tell her you're concerned about Eustass? That you learned that your ex-best friend, who you thought you knew, turned out to be a freak who stalks your ex after sleeping with them? Maybe there could be some advice she could give you on how to feel?

“Hey, so remember how I told you about not being friends with (.....) anymore?”

“Oh yeah. Good riddance. I always knew there was something about her.”

You turn your head to her, confused. “What? What makes you say that?”

“There was always an aura to her. God, how do I describe it? I guess to me and some other people at the cafe thought you could do better than her.”

“I could do better? What do you mean?”

“Well, she wasn’t the best person. It’s not your fault for not seeing it. But there were multiple instances where she just treated you super shitty, but it just flew over your head.”

Hearing that all your co-workers hated (.....) was weird. While you understood if it was after the incident, knowing it was before it all went down made you question. Did you really not see the signs? Were there actual warning signs about her doing this?

“One incident I can think of is when you were telling me a story about how she’d taken the boy you liked to prom—twice, junior and senior year.”

A burn of embarrassment hits your face as you remember that as well. When you look back on it, you feel stupid. But simultaneously, you just wanted (.....) to be happy. You remember how she had always put herself down in high school, always saying that the people she liked never liked her back. And when you asked, she said the exact person you liked. Each time, you felt terrible, so despite wanting to be the one going with your crushes, you let her go instead. Wanting her to be happy.

“Oh…Yeah, I remember that.”

“Isn’t it weird how everyone you ever liked she magically liked too?”

“I just thought we had the same taste in men.”

“Same taste isn’t the same as stealing everyone you’ve ever liked.” Keeping her eyes on the road, Reiju continues. “Tell me honestly (Y/N), can you name one time (.....) actually did something for you? Has she ever done anything to sacrifice things like you did? Did she ever say thank you even?”

You desperately tried to come up with an incident, trying to prove you weren’t as ignorant of (.....)’s actions as it seemed, but nothing came up.

“Didn’t she always rely on you to get her homework done? She’d never done anything and always copied off you. You told me she probably wouldn’t have passed high school if it weren’t for you.”

“She told me about her parents and how hard it was to contrate when they fought all the time. Her dad hated how she went to school when she ‘should’ve been at home like a real woman.’ and that her brothers would steal and rip up her homework.”

“Have you ever met her parents? Or family?” Reiju’s question actually brought up a revelation for you. You actually couldn’t recall a time you ever met her family. Growing up, you never had the desire to. But after learning and feeling like you’ve never even known (.....), you had more questions.

“I remember her coming to school wearing long-sleeved shirts and jeans. She told me it was to hide the bruises from her dad when he got mad. They only ever lasted a few days since she heals quickly.”

“Yeah, no. Bruises take more than three days to heal. It is more like two weeks at best. Depending on how bad the bruise is.”

“I don’t understand. Why would she lie about something like that? What would there be to gain? Why would she lie about something she knew meant something to me?”

“Do you wanna know what I think? Now, this may sound cruel and harsh, but whatever. I think she was lying to you (Y/N) about everything. From my point of view, it seems like she always wanted to have a one-up on you. Wanted you to fail and be there to her beck and call.”

“I…” You were speechless. Never have you thought (.....) might be lying. She wanted to be better than you or see you fail. Sure, there were instances, but there's no way everything about your friendship was a lie. It couldn’t be.

You’ve told her things you’ve told no one else—not Eustass, not Law, not anyone except her. The things you told her you were sure would never be heard by anyone else but her. What if she told others what you told her in confidant?

“Remember when you told me how the boy you liked in college ended up dating your friend after he mysteriously never told you before that she liked him?” At the realization, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on your head. But at the same time, you never told (.....) that it was Law that you liked, so how would she have known?

“I never told her his name, though. How would she have known it was him if I never said his name?”

“You said she went to the same college as you, yeah? And I’m guessing you told her his anime at first, not thinking you’d fall for him, or she could have snooped in your phone when you’d left it open. Wouldn’t put it above her if even Eustass got a restraining order on her.”

“DO you think she’d actually go through such lengths to prevent me from being happy?”

“I think theirs a lot of shit she’d done that you’ve blocked out over the years. I think the (.....) you know is a shame. A huge lie.”

“But why? Why would she do something like this? Spend years of her life just to try and make me unhappy?”

“Don’t know. Wish I had the answers for you, but I don’t.” Reiju’s words bounced around in your head like a ball.  Distracting you from the world around you. Pulling you from reality to search your memory of the past of all the times she’s done you wrong.

~~~

“Hey, we’re at your apartment. Doesn’t look like Law’s here.” Pulled from your flashbacks, you're met with the sight of a dark rainy night and your apartment building in front of you.

“Oh, we are. Well, thank you, Reiju. I really owe you one.”

“It’s no problem really. Go take care of yourself, okay? Take a relaxing bath, eat some ice cream, and get some good sleep. Good night (Y/N), and stay safe.”

“Goodnight, Reiju. Thank you again.” You leave her car and wave goodbye. The rain hits your body repeatedly, making you rush to the safety of your apartment.

As you walk up the stairs to the 2nd floor, only one thing runs through your mind despite it being so close to home. So close to the place where you felt at least a shred of safety.

Did you really know (.....) or were you too blind to see (.....) true intentions?

~~~

Also I KNOW Reiju is actually pink but reader was pink first so-

Here is a promotion poster for one of the drinks at the cafe reader works at:

taglist:

@yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck @ihatespidersdie @bluebunny002 @gabi-moureira @blairbellerose @luciledreamz @mrstraffy @yukiyury @lunalovesthe-moon @kenqki @100520s

[90shaladriel]

I'm not blaming anyone, clearly the show made it a point to pivot Sauron to unredeemable in Season 2 when I don't think that is what they showed us in Season 1. Personally that it less interesting to me for his character and also the implications that gives to Saurondriel, but I realize that's not what the show is going to be about. That is fine!

I believe me & the other person above were saying Nenya can't heal evil like that, you have to heal that evil inside you yourself.

Well this is the debate isn't it? I am saying that Nenya CAN heal evil like that, as is proved by Adar's healing, so why not? Also given the sample size is exactly 1, nobody can make broad declarative statements about what it can or cannot do in show-lore because it's up to our interpretations isn't it?

Adar on the other hand, sees their existence & suffering, knows his involvement in it & instead of hating it & them along with it he chooses to love them, fight for them & try to break the cycle of abuse that perpetuates their plight.

But he doesn't extend that love and compassion to the men and women of the Southlands or the Elves of Eregion? The stuff he does or, by inaction. allows the Uruks to do is horrendous. I think what he tried to do in the very end with Galadriel is the only way they can break the cycle, but it was too little too late. But again that only happened after he stole Nenya and in the meantime permitted his Uruks to destroy Eregion.

Sauron may not regard the Uruks with much love or dignity, hard to dispute. The only caveat would be on the raft when Galadriel spoke of her quest for vengeance against the Orcs, Sauron made a point of telling her, "if you want to murder Orcs that is your own affair, but don't dress it up as heroism" he clearly cares more about them than she did who is the hero of the story. We only really have glimpses of what he might have done after Morgoth's defeat that caused Adar and the Uruks to turn on him, we only got Adar's account of this. I guess we can assume the worst for the sake of discussion but I could imagine it was more nuanced. Perhaps Adar sought to rule himself and seeded the rebellion against Sauron? We don't see Adar giving up his rule once the Orcs have a home in Mordor, nor does he act to create a democratic order of equality among them, he very much takes charge as a "Lord".

I think in an inverse way, we see Sauron time and again appear to hold the Men of the Southlands in higher regard than the Uruks. We didn't fully get the King of the Southlands as it was cut short, but up until his wounding he was saving people's lives. He continually argued with the Elves on the necessity to aid the men that he represented in Halbrand form. I think as you said :

This doesn't erase his crimes against the southlanders but those crimes also don't erase his genuine love for his children. 2 things can be true at once, this show is beautiful in its complexity this way!

Is very much true for Sauron. They are two sides of the same coin. He is full of contradictions!

Yes. Sauron let Diarmid perish. He also chose to forsake violence and revenge by turning away from the Uruks and Adar in the Southlands and following Diarmid.

You could say that Adar did good here and there. But also Sauron saved Galadriel's life at sea when there was zero material benefit to himself and even possible risk knowing how powerful she was and that her actual mission was killing him! He purposefully gave his enemy a chance to live, nothing can take away that altruism he displayed, whether he did other rotten things or not. Going to fight in the Southlands, saving Elendil's life, sparing Adar's are all further of examples of this right up till the end of Season 1.

So by that measure, I do think even Sauron has parts of him that are good so I do believe there are things that could have brought that out externally, yes.

Clearly by the end of Season 2 they wanted to ensure that he was fully evil for whatever reason, he had plenty of opportunities to make other choices and didn't. That's all his blame. Talking about what Nenya would have done is just a fun thought experiment!

S1E1 of ROP sets up the theme of "Nothing is evil in the beginning"

This is a true to life imo & nuanced take on evil.

The show expands on it by showing us Sauron in his repentance phase where he is trying to return to his beginnings when he was still good.

S2E1 gives us the theme of the season "To be forgiven one needs to choose good everyday"

Again a very nuanced take on goodness, individual responsibility & willpower.

The show expands on it by simultaneously showing us Adar & Sauron starting on the same side & choosing different paths in the end.

This season shows us Sauron not choosing good, actively harming others and letting his decisions be based on greed & selfishness.

While Adar who's character's evil side was already established in Season 2 with the abuse of Southlanders gets his origins & motives fleshed out and then gets presented with the choice where he chooses good.

This show puts a lot of effort into nuances, complex topics like the cycle of abuse and dark characters that are very human & grounded in reality.

To imply that Magic Ring = Evil Eraser in a show like this imo diminishes the hardwork put into it & all its characters who have their own minds, motivations & challenges. (the very things we praise ROP Galadriel for having)

[pansygrowl]

also annoying: deciding I do actually like a vocalist only for them to have just gotten kicked from their band

[uncanny-tranny]

The whole "humans are inherently awful and bad!" spiel is so tiring to me as a survivor of abuse because it comes off as abuse apologia. If humans are inherently awful, then why should it matter if you're abused - that's what humans do best! Like, genuinely, I think this mindset can harm abuse victims/survivors because they're being inundated with this idea that, well, how bad can their abuser be? All humans are horrific, why complain, why escape, and why try to resist it?

I really wish people would critically analyze where these ideas come from and where these lines of thinking can lead. Maybe it's a matter that I'm looking too deep into, but this very bleak ideology is not going to help in the long run, I think, and some of the first people who are going to be crushed by it are the people who are vulnerable or who are put in vulnerable positions in society.

[pianojoy-blog]

In the back of my mind it’s always there 🥲💥💥💥💥

Pulling out my white pen from 6th grade for curly because this game has me in a chokehold

[rubberduckyrye]

You guys ever think about the tragedy that is Junko Enoshima? That she wasn't a sadistic girl seeking out to hurt others for sadistic glee?

Because everything Junko did was her trying to emotionally abuse herself? That she wanting to feel something so badly that she hurt the people she loved most, and even brought about ruin to the world, simply to destroy herself with it?

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

how do you score such an epic own goal of associating your side with abusers like. yeah “the abuser said to be nicer to him” is literally the worst possible argument here. especially since wilbur isn’t just accused of abusing his girlfriends but intimidating and bullying younger creators like are we forgetting that billzo and freddie have said he was extremely cruel and petty to younger creators behind the scenes.

[zeb-z]

idk it’s like. yeah Bad, you should be talking about the cursed team. yeah Tubbo, you’ve got an excellent theory crafted here, a super solid argument that your team is cursed. but it’s no surprise that red will not hear you out, because blue’s relationship with red is just in such shambles. Bad has burned bridges and destroyed any sort of love, any sort of trust, any sort of anything. Pierre has spat on the flames. The fact they managed to have a genuine talk about the enchant agreement is a miracle (and only because it was half OOC in my opinion, and because Phil is the only one on red who will extend a bit of trust because he just doesn’t want to fight), but still hasn’t done much for blue’s favor.

everything that red has suffered when they have tried to talk, everything Bad has done to them specifically with ruthlessness in the name of victory, has now shown to have consequences. so yeah, blue could so be the cursed team, and Tubbo could be right to a terrifying degree and have it all figured out - it’s not gonna stop red from fighting because they can’t hear him out. how can they trust a thing he says? why would they talk to Bad now at the final hour? why would they sit there and show mercy when so often none has been shown to them?

it’s the name of the game. to tear them all apart and see just how far they’ll go. the eye wants them to burn bridges and turn on eachother in the name of victory, and Bad played very well. it’s a shame he represents more than himself, but an entire team. it’s a shame those bridges he burned might have been the ones they needed now that red is in the lead and has a chance of winning. yeah man, blue might be cursed, but red has found evidence in their own favor - and why on gods green earth would they take blue’s word when Bad has proven time and time again he will abandon honor for victory?

[will-pilled]

Just saw someone post "an article debunking all viv allegations" and it was shit hardly anyone is mad about anymore and they were like "oh it was a long time ago so it's fine."

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[trans-leek-cookie]

im going to be honest. Curly and Jimmy shipping beyond any like. Moral or whatever bullshit. It's fucking boring.

Wowwww the abusive man uses his power over another man- specifically Mainly when he's freshly injured and heavily disabled and reliant on the people around him for survival- to abuse him?!?! This is crazy. Unheard of, even. A disabled person being abused, now THATS interesting!!! It's like there isn't even a whole woman in the game