#now it seems even more like they were really arbitrary about when and how they involved Yuuji

[cursedvibes]

Okay, so if you're acknowledging that nothing is pointing towards Sukuna being able to read Yuuji's mind and hear everything he does, then why did you make such a big deal about keeping Yuuji away from all plans, Todo and what not.

[alphajocklover]

Hey ! Recently, I've heard about a guy in my college, a young jock fresh from high school, that honestly acts very weirdly.

Apparently, his friends all went to local universities, while he moved all the way out to the capital, apparently in a bid to get some "elite" education. But that's not really weird, isn't it.

No, the weird thing starts at how he already acts like he's the king of uni, belittling everyone, including those like me who have been here for quite a few years, acting and even stating that he is the "alpha" of our department - as if such an outdated and so obviously false way of classifying people was even remotely correct. But then, he just goes around stating that he needs some "betas". Now, while I can imagine what they must be, those "yes-men" you see in movies accompanying the bully, I can't even begin to see how he wants to bring that to real life ! Especially since he's not in high school anymore !

Well, whatever. The real thing that creeps me out is how he seems to hang out near me weirdly often... Should that be cause for concern ?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I’ve only just seen your message. Hopefully there's still enough time for me to warn you. What you’ve met isn’t human. Not exactly. He’s… more.

Most teenage boys go through puberty with drastic changes. They shoot up, gain a bit of hair and possibly some muscle. Their voice deepens, and of course they get some… urges. It’s all very natural. But some teenage boys undergo a… startling transformation. They don’t just shoot up, they tower. They don’t gain a bit of hair, they grow bushes of it. Some shave it so that they can better show off their muscles, but most don’t. Muscle isn’t just possible for them, it’s inevitable. They’re bodies become beefy and hard, even without exercise, though most still become obsessed with lifting weights and getting even bigger. But what sets these boys, or rather these men, apart from the rest most are their urges. They don’t just feel the need to cum like most guys. They get the urge to dominate. The urge to show their power. The urge to fuck.

These men are what’s known as Alphas. And no, that’s not just some arbitrary classification. This isn’t some guy calling himself an alpha male because he’s an insecure Andrew Tate obsessed bitch. What you are dealing with is a real fucking Alpha. Once they were normal people like you or me, but something… awakened in them at some point. Usually during puberty, as I showed before, but it’s not impossible to have an Alpha discover his true self later in life. These men, if they can be called mere men, are bigger, stronger, more dominant than the average man. Much more dominant. So much so that the world seems to… bend to their will. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they have some sort of special pheromones, or magic powers. But what I do know is when they want something, it just happens. If they want to be good at something, they just are. If they want to win at something, they just do. If they want the world, it’s served up to them on a silver platter with a protein shake.

And if they want you to be their Beta, you will be their Beta.

I’m not kidding. They can just.. change people. You’ve probably already seen some symptoms, in you and your friends. A sudden interest in fitness, in sports, in ‘bro culture.’ A strange growth spurt, the kind that really shouldn’t happen after puberty. An increased libido, a simpler vocabulary. And most of all, a great admiration for your Alpha. Not just admiration, a deep love. A need to do what he says, be what he says. Once those feelings start it’ll be too late to save you. Soon you’ll be nothing more than his Beta. Everything about you will revolve around what they want.

It’s not the worst fate in the world. Most people think that if a horny Alpha could do whatever they want to you, you’d end up a brainless sex doll. But more often than not what they really want is a bro. Or, more accurately, they want bros. Alphas are so competitive that they rarely are able to spend extended periods of time together. It’s like having two leaders of a pack. Eventually they end up locking horns. So they find, or rather make, Beta bros for them to hang out with. Big, but not as big as their Alpha. Sexy, but not hot enough to take any pussy away from the Alpha. Cool but not cool enough to take any attention away from the Alpha. There are some differences based on what the Alpha wants. Some Betas are stoners, some are jocks, some are surfers and some are skaters. It all depends on the Alphas personal aesthetic and taste. But Betas are all muscular, horny, hung, and completely subservient to their Alphas.

If you’re lucky, you can get out. Move somewhere far away, and forget about all of this. If you’re lucky the Alpha won’t care enough to go after you. You can keep your identity and sense of self intact.

But if you’re not lucky? If you’re too far under his influence? If your Alpha has taken a liking to you and won’t let you go? Well…

… be grateful you’re his Beta bro and not his Beta bitch.

**3 post in 2 days! I feel like I’m on fire! Guess I’m just very motivated to write recently. Anyways I hope you guys liked this one! Hope mentioning Andrew Tate wasn’t too political. I hate to let irl politics ruin my online fun. Enjoy!**

[dingodad]

which of your fantrolls are derse and which are prospit. and do you believe there's a meaningful divide?

these guys inherited their dream moons pretty straightforwardly from the characters they were inspired by.

dream moon feels kind of like the most astrology esque of all of homestuck's astrology type systems LOL in that basically all of the characters inherited them based on totally arbitrary circumstance (same moon as the rest of my family members, same moon as the rest of the players who wanted to join team vriska / team equius, etc.) and the comic never once seems to try to explain it in any deeper terms than that. so any analysis of what they might mean is just trying to find patterns in disparate personalities. (i guess dream moon being significant is a real thing now that it's included in the official aspect test but i'm not even going to bother looking those up because i don't really care that much. lol)

there are some interpretations i've found interesting.. like prospit dreamers playing active roles and being protagonists while derse dreamers are behind the scenes actors and backgrounders is so obviously true but it also seems so redundantly similar to active + passive classes. and the one about prospit dreamers being upfront with their personalities and derse dreamers hiding behind a mask is fun for explaining oddities like dersite nepeta but falls apart for other characters.

so i've never once thought about what moon "fits" a character before deciding where they go, i 100% always just sort them towards the beginning of the design process and then soooometimes when i develop a character further i will take their lunar sway into account and think about how it might contribute to their personality or arc. but it's usually a more personalised thing, like, what does being on prospit or on derse mean to that character in particular.. so i wouldn't say i think of there being a "divide" between the two. their significances can vary. while being a derse dreamer obviously doesn't MAKE you a villain for instance it's easy to justify why a villain might belong on derse and a dersite villain might be very different to a prospitian villain. <- thinking about it harder right now than i probably ever have before in my life

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

Are Merch Mimics capable of using assimilation offensively against humans, for self-defense and otherwise? Like, if someone tried to break a toy/game/etc they were inhabiting, could the Mimic instead pull them in?

To a degree, yeah. I should mention though that Victor isn't "in" the TV in any magical sense; spoiler alert: he's the controller Vance is holding! Hence, the eye on the controller reacting to the dialogue. The Victor on the screen is actualy a model he rigged for a homebrew game he coded the old fashioned way, which responds to whatever inputs the controller sends to the Wii.

He actually is an active member of the homebrew community, and loves to mess with electronics the old fashioned way. Almost no one on the forums knows he's a toy bird, but are impressed nonetheless with his little projects, various rail-shooter games, and weird obsession with snarky anthropomorphic birds.

Victor could technically "jump into a game" on a tv screen, but it'd be a bit of a weird process if he doesn't know how to mod the game, so it'd look more like a shitty greenscreen effect rather than anything coherent. He'd need to learn in real time how the game is coded, how to inject arbitrary code into the system while it's running, etc etc. He CAN do that because he's a fucking NERD, but it wouldn't be a quick process at all.

I should also mention, mimics have an inherent ability to create dreams, since they come about from processing the thoughts and ideas of humans. If a human bonds with a mimic, such that the mimic now knows how the human thinks, they can pull a (somewhat) willing human into the dream when the human sleeps. So to wrap this all up: what Victor could do for a game he understands inside and out is pull a human into a dream that happens to match whatever he himself experiences as currently going on in the game. Basically the ultimate VR experience, with the mimic as a middle-man. Which might be something that'll happen in the comic soon....!

So that all seems a bit convoluted, right? Here's even more worldbuilding about matter assimilation by mimics below the cut. Stop here if you don't want a headache.

The reason so many hoops would be needed to pull a human into a game world is that assimilation is much easier on inert, inanimate objects that are not currently "in use" by a thinking thing, or something that relies on constant electrical signals to function. This can be something with brainwaves, or some other kind of animation like a normal robot. A mimic can convert a CRT TV that's turned off somewhat easily, but a TV that's turned on, with particles of every kind constantly moving into and out of it, is much harder to convert.

This means that humans and biological creatures in general are also trickier to convert, though it can still happen if done gradually enough. Hence, Victor wouldn't be able to rapidly convert Vance in one fell swoop, it'd be a whole process. It's easier to just pull a human into a dream instead, and if a mimic understands a video game, or a story in a book really well, they can basically make the fictional world into an extremely lucid reality for whatever human tags along with them.

I often describe mimics as just "jojo stands if they were corporeal and could just get up and move around on their own with no user"; you know how in jojo stand battles or old stories about magic curses, if you break the curse or kill the stand before its effect becomes permanent, all of the damage is magically undone? Like if you kill Green Day, the mold stand, all of the molding just instantly stops?

Mimics who use their powers of assimilation offensively work similarly; they can project their influence to a certain range, and partially assimilate matter in that range. If you knock out or kill the mimic, however, everything reverts to normal. A human who doesn't want to get converted can basically just turn around and walk away most of the time, or shoot the mimic, so the mimic in question needs to pull off some trick to get the human to stay within range for the assimilation to fully stick. A human can still break free and get out of range even if fully converted, but it's much harder, as assimilation usually means the mimic gaining greater control over the converted object in question. The exact range and effect mimics have is again like jojo stand ranges; it varies.

Different mimics have different affinities for different things. Victor can assimilate cheap electronics fastest because he likes them and understands how they work (it's why he's a toy bird mp3 player). Az can assimilate guns, and turn ammo into weird anomalous ammo with weird effects. Zachary is a genius who can assimilate any matter, including biological matter, faster than anyone... but he's also extremely picky and hates the sight of blood, so he only uses assimilation on things he really, really likes.

If I could somehow make another read more at this point, I would. It's gonna get messy:

What a weird power and setup though, right? Why? The true nature of mimics is unknown to most of them, but the deepest lore is that the first mimics were constructs made by a people long ago, who first made them as highly advanced machines that'd recognize the thoughts of their masters to fulfill any practical desire. Need a road built? Done. Need a ship repaired? Done. With physical needs all met, the people began to turn inward, and use the mimics to illustrate their own artistic ideas. Eventually, the will and consciousness of these people were assimilated and inherited by mimics, who themselves became people. Mimics spread, altered themselves, duplicated, deviated, fused, split, and wandered around. Getting into recreational wars, manifesting horrors and delights into reality because they could.

Somehow, after the dust settled, the strongest mimics, the angels, decide to set their sights to the stars, and observe other lifeforms develop technology and their own art. Did mimics come to earth millions of years ago, and simply watched humans grow, evolving with them in-tandem? Or did humans make the first mimics, and somehow became undone and set back to the stone age? The answer to this mystery is currently known only to the oldest of mimics. Except Zachary. He's old, but didn't care to remember.

This is generally why mimics seem so compatible with humans; they were made by either them, or people who were, for whatever the reason, very much like them, flaws and all. The ability to assimilate is basically the conversion of matter into a more malleable state of information. A virtually magical power, but this was achieved not through prayers and spells, but a very human-like obsession with developing technology to the point of exerting control over molecules, then atoms, then the lowest planks of matter. The obsession with scaling every mountain and crossing through every valley. To rip the natural world apart, and hopefully, put it back together before it's too late. Angels seek to ensure humanity walks the right path there, but with human's own desires and intent honored, for better or worse.

To answer your question: yes. A mimic of Mario can pull you into the game and you can jump with him and eat shitty low poly spaghetti with him.

The process for doing that is just convoluted and complicated, and you need to get to know each other a bit first. If he tries to use it as an attack though, it either won't work, or it might just wind up giving you mild brain damage.

[spinji]

How old is AFO and OFA

[Mile long post incoming]

Long story short this is a theory/headcanon/thought exercise to keep my brain busy while I'm bored at work. I wanted to figure out a more precise estimate for how old All for One is since his birth is essentially the earliest moment of quirk society emerging and so his life spans the entire timeline of this story which I find interesting. And then the whole thing spiraled into a full One for All timeline of headcanons, so enjoy that.

To start though, it would be easy to guess that he's 120-and-some-change because of Garaki. Mic claimed Garaki would be about 120 (and we're just assuming he's exactly right instead of guesstimating for the sake of things) and Garaki confirms that his quirk allows him to live longer than a regular human lifespan, and when they met, All for One was given a copy so he could also live absurdly long. But I want to try a more exact method to ensure that his generations of adversaries could have actually reasonably worked time-wise. So, we can use Garaki's age to check our work but, reasonably, All for One should fall somewhere in the 120-150 range.

Right off the bat, we do have a frustrating lack of information regarding ages and time passing but there are a few things we can establish. Firstly, we know AFO and Yoichi are twins, so when determining age we can start both AFO individually and the OFA users as a collective at the same point. Secondly, Yoichi and AFO are shown to be the first people to have developed a quirk in the way we see in current time. There were vaguely quirk like mutations in people before that (like with their mother) but quirks as we know them are presented to us as originating from these two twins.

I bring this up because while Yoichi, Kudou, and Bruce are all in the same vague realm of "adult" at the same point in time, Yoichi has to be the oldest of the three. Even if it is only by a few years, Yoichi and AFO preceed any characters with a quirk. And while we're on the topic of Kudou and Bruce, we can safely say Kudou is the older one of the duo. He's confirmed to be the head leader of the resistance group against AFO and Bruce is second in command, so, frankly it would just be bizarre if Bruce was older in age but lower in rank. That being said, I don't think their difference in age would be significant.

Exact ages is where things get vague and headcanon-y. There isn't really any hard evidence I can point to other than "that sounds about right" and "I guess they look about that age" in an animation style that is notorious for just slapping a, borderline arbitrary, age on any design regardless of logic. So, rather than trying to justify it too much, my personal choices for their ages are, at Yoichi's time of death, Yoichi is 39, Kudou is 30, and Bruce is 27. At this point in the story AFO has been amassing power and followers for a while now, long enough for a resistance force to rise up against him but not long enough that he's considered it more than a nuisance for other people to handle until now. Late thirties seems pretty reasonable, possibly a bit too young but this man has also been killing people since he was 0.

For Kudou and Bruce I aimed for the older side of military age. Old enough to lead an operation like this but still young enough that AFO's rise to power was during most of their lifetime. Also, there's the issue of the age ceiling. Thanks to Shinomori (who I will get to), users 2 through 7 cannot have lived to be over 40 years old. That is a hard, non-negotiable cap on their ages as the strain of OFA alongside a different biological quirk drastically shortens a person's natural lifespan.

Anyway, back to AFO's age. If Yoichi dies at 39, this would also make him 39 (duh) and given the climate of the world at this point, I think Kudou lasted the shortest with OFA, personally. He receives the quirk immediately upon Yoichi's death after getting his blood in his mouth (Yoichi probably thought of him in his dying moments aww) and likely a week or two later is when Kudou and Bruce find out about it. The chapter frames Kudou finding out Yoichi carried on into him at the same time AFO has the same epiphany so, generously?? I give Kudou a year. Max.

All for One is now filled with seething hatred for Kudou specifically after Yoichi's death, so everything has been put on the back burner so he can both take the quirk from Kudou to get his "possession" back (ew) and to kill Kudou along with everyone he ever knew, loved, spoke to, looked at, or had any genetic lineage with. Even for a guy this powerful that is going to take a bit. A year gives AFO time to find information and strike down the entire resistance and time for Kudou and Bruce to think of a counter strategy and gain an understanding for how OFA works. So, Bruce takes the quirk at 28, Kudou dies at 31, and All for One kills him at 40.

After Kudou's death is a very big blank spot where I need to unfortunately just blindly headcanon again, so bare with me. Kudou and Bruce's plan was for Bruce to take the quirk and slip away from the massacre of the resistance to build OFA stronger and come back to finish the job. I believe that Bruce met Shinomori while he was lying low. Judging by the one image we have of Bruce confronting AFO, he did seemingly attempt to rally people together to defeat him, which would have taken a bit longer than when Kudou was leading an established resistance, since he didn't already have people under him. But he clearly thought to pass the quirk on again as a backup in case he lost, which is why he chose Shinomori to take it. With time needed to plan this attack and also get AFO's sights off him, I'd give it about five years between AFO's fight with Kudou and his fight with Bruce. It's estabished that Shinomori takes the quirk at 22 so, Bruce dies at 33, and All for One kills him at 45.

Shinomori is actually a very clear-cut piece of the timeline. He takes the quirk at 22 and dies at 40, having passed the quirk to the next user shortly before that because he realized his health was rapidly declining. He keeps the quirk for a total of 18 years, making All for One 63 at the time of his death. Judging by how the flashback panels are structured, AFO has received Garaki's quirk by this point.

Also, we have reached the point where every following user of OFA has been a professional hero, so I think it's safe to assume that each link in the chain met through either being colleagues or possibly through a sidekick internship. I doubt All Might was the first one to think of scouting hero students for successors. I'm going to assume that users 5, 6, and 7 were somewhere in the 16-24 range when they received the quirk for that very reason.

Moving on though, Banjo is the next user. I do think Banjo knew Shinomori for a somewhat significant time before his death. Banjo clearly knows about Shinomori's reclusive nature in some level of detail based on how they interact as vestiges and while it is possible for the already deceased OFA users to peer into the thoughts and memories of the current user, it doesn't appear to be the same retroactively, unless it's something the vestiges want to show the current user. All this to say I came to conclusion that Banjo was already likely a pro hero when he recieved the quirk from Shinomori. Shinomori realized what was happening and reached out to one of the few trusted friends he had to carry on the burden because he knew he could handle it. So I'm going to peg Banjo at being about 22 when he took the power as well. Old enough to be experienced as a pro with enough time to have actually met Shinomori before he died. Just like all the others, Banjo died to All for One after being trapped under rubble and gave the power to En just before he croaked. Given his bordering-on-middle-aged appearance, I'm going to put forward Banjo dying at 37 and All for One killing him at 78.

En also has very little information on him but since we only have speculation to work with, might as well stop apologizing for it. En appears to be significantly younger than Banjo, so I suspect he was an internship student to Banjo while he was a pro. Putting En at 17 when he recieved the power is both enough time for them to meet and get to know each other with En having to take the mantle from him sooner than either of them anticipated. En's appearance is still quite young, but he was confirmed to be a pro hero for a time, so he didn't have as short a run as Kudou. Nana was also already some level of hero (whether student or pro is unclear) at the time she recieved the power. Rather than mentor and student I believe they were fledgling colleagues, since Gran Torino fills the role as Nana's older pro mentor. All of this makes me vaguely place En dying at 25 and All for One killing him at 86.

I already mentioned Nana potentially being colleagues with En as their way of meeting. I still think she may have been younger than him at the time but not significantly so. En is another user that is shown passing on the power while at death's door and the following panel that shows Nana accepting it doesn't make her look significantly younger than how she does in any given scene in the series. So I don't think she was a child when she took the quirk but I'm going to set my guess at 20. But! While Nana is another character without a listed age, surprisingly, we can figure it out a good guess with actual evidence this time. Her son Kotaro, grandson Tomura, and pupil All Might all have stated, confirmed ages that we can use to make a feasible timeline for Nana.

Currently, All Might is 57 and Tomura is 21, meaning All Might was 36 when Tomura was born. Kotaro was killed at 32, when Tomura was 5, making him 27 when Yagi was 36. Nana died when All Might was in his last year at UA, making him 18, meaning Kotaro was 9 at the time. Nana gave All Might OFA when he was in middle school, judging by his uniform, so we'll assume he was 14 and Kotaro was 5. When Nana and All Might first meet, Nana states that her family is all dead, in a cold and distant manner. But that wouldn't be true if Kotaro was still in her life. This would mean that she met Yagi after the death of her husband and after Kotaro was sent away. And I'd wager to bet it was very soon after. Assuming Nana gave birth to Kotaro at around 25 years old (perfectly reasonable) then she would have passed the quirk to All Might at 30 and died at 34 after having the quirk for 14 years, making All for One 100 at the time of the transfer. Gran Torino also states that AFO is over 100 at the time Nana died, which makes this whole thing perfectly plausible.

From here things get a lot less speculative. All Might is listed as 55 at the beginning of the manga, adding on Izuku's last year of middle school and first year of high school puts him at 57. We already established he received the quirk at 14, meaning he held the power for 42 years + 1 year quirkless before All for One was finally killed at the grand age of 143. Which would mean that quirks have existed for just shy of one and a half centuries now and we fit comfortably inside our estimate goal!

Now, I'm one of those bad at math gays so if you have other thoughts on this, feel free to speak up. And you're more than welcome to adopt these age headcanons if you want. Later.

[randomwriteronline]

I wonder if the toa mata recognized themselves in their own memories from before mata nui.

I dont know, i think theres possibilities to be explored about that. Suddenly remembering yourself and what you find being a complete stranger is a common thing for amnesia plots i guess but also i think this could be even more jarring. Like a more genuine difference between killing machine and living being.

Its less a matter of nature vs nurture and more a matter of nature with a certain type of nurture. Nature dictates they are powerful and driven and well meaning, but the way they are brought up produces completely different people.

Their first taste of life was a sterile room with nobody but each other and a disembodied voice reading out their duties, establishing an arbitrary hierarchy within them, and then sending them to a glorified bootcamp where a ruthless instructor worked on making them into skilled combatants and nothing else, teaching them how to use their elements as tools and weapons without indulging in them; they got a vague sense of what and how a community feels like with the Av-Matoran - as outsiders, as its protective shield, there for them but not with them - only to get that stripped away from them too because their role as life saving tools to be preserved under glass just in case of a crisis was more important.

I wonder if the Toa Mata, the ones who were taken to the Koro of Mata Nui and listened to the Turaga's tales and reprimands and would have moved mountains for the Matoran who treated them like older siblings, return with their minds to things they said or thought or did from before the Island of Mata Nui and stop in their tracks. Whose memory is that, they think? That can't be mine. I am not like that. My siblings are not like that. Some things are perfectly right, they cant deny that; but just as many if not more are so wrong that they almost feel like a really cruel joke somebody planted into their heads.

Kopaka and Tahu got along, even if they dont want to admit it because they need to bicker like children or theyll die, but are more surprised that they werent as tentatively close with anybody else. Lewa remembers so much frustration and tedium and anger that if he stalls in his memories too much he genuinely starts feeling queasy, Pohatu has remnants of bitterness and passive aggression that still cling to him like the smell of a cigarette on someone who gave up smoking, and they both hate that because its nothing like them. Onua and Gali feel like theyre peering into some kind of imperfect clone's brain when they try to remember - its themselves, they know that, it has to be, but there are certain things they know about themelves that are just completely missing and its kind of dizzying to realize that.

Im not even sure they liked each other. They work together because its their destiny, but they don't seem to seek each other out for fun or anything else. In their training days they had to be shoved in each others direction or they would have never solved their obligatory group assignments.

I wonder if their terrors and flaws could partially come from this first life that they had too. Gali's fear of her anger and Lewa's disregard for duty stemming from Hydraxon's methods - she internalized his reprimands about feeling guilt for living enemies, but without any memory of him she believes the words resurfacing in her mind from time to time are her own, and is appalled by their cruelty; he was forbidden from enjoying himself, from indulging in any form of fun, of entertainment, of joy, and unconsciously now he rebels by shirking away from responsability to do whatever he wants.

The responses to Tahu's decision regarding the codrex haunt him, the whole situation, really; how he stripped his siblings of any say on their fate because he was the leader, not even telling them or explaining himself until they had no other choice, and if he could treat them like that once then what would stop him from doing so again and again until he doesnt even think about it? Kopaka is uneasy about it too. He knew the plan and supported Tahu only because he tagged along, but hes very, very acutely aware that he would have been left just as much in the dark as everybody else otherwise, and he would gave not even had anybody to seek any comfort from because hes fairly certain none of the others would have liked him enough to care.

Onua as @cantankerouscanuck pointed out to me mightve taken Hydraxon's teachings to heart, hence why he's so quiet: no use in expressing weakness, right? But karda nui must have been hellish on his senses, with all that light - a tangible physical discomfort that would bleed out into an emotional one as he becomes conscious of how none of his siblings go through this, thus he must be damaged in some way, faulty, out of place, and so he seeks to be alone, digging himself away. And its not hard to imagine how Pohatu (who hasnt had the chance to grow into the affable, kind toa his siblings can always lean on when they need to yet) would become convinced of his uselessness within the team and seethe about it.

They arrive on Mata Nui as broken war machines with no clue who they even are and suddenly find nature and community and love, and in a moment theyre people.

I wonder if the environment helped. Being thrown upon a beach in the open air with nothing but a whole world that is so alien and yet feels so right beckoning them to come closer. Discovering their powers and their domains freely, immediately - first thing they did was dive into their respective elements without a second thought, naturally magnetized, taking after them like it was the simplest thing in the world, because they are the first toa, the first beings capable of harnessing these powers in their whole universe, and its in their nature to be so connected to them. Maybe it helped. Maybe it made them feel connected to their own selves enough to figure themselves out in a way they couldnt have done so before.

Maybe it helped to find out their collective destiny each on their own, in their own environment, at their own pace, surrounded by younger siblings who look at them with awe and curiosity and frustration sometimes, guided by people who know how being alive works with all its good parts and messy bits and who can tell what having so much power means when youre barely aware of how to use it or what to do. And maybe it helped to find out who their siblings were in a similar way, introducing themselves as they wanted, as they felt like, without a specific order, and learning to recognize each other as siblings with all the things that make them insufferable and all the things that make them the best and what makes them happy and what makes them angry and how they sound when theyre worried and how likely they are to chase you down to the other edge of the island for doing something stupid, and like real people they grow and develop and change and stay the same, and then they meet the memory of themselves from before becoming people and its...

Idk. Its like the realization of who they used to be and the distance between themselves and those selves, and the fact that they dont like them.

[idontblushsrry]

Levitating|| Shunsui Kyoraku

Pairing: Shunsui x GN Reader

WC: 1,555

A/N: This started as a writing exercise so that I could get back into the flow of writing again but I like it so I'm posting it. Sorry I've been MIA for like 2 years, I'll be posting on again/off again for a while. Also I changed some of the lyrics of the song, Dua Lipa stans pls don't come for me.

Warnings: None, some swearing?, there's talk of marriage because I feel like the Soul Society doesn't really have "dating"

Shunsui + Levitating

I believe that you're for me, I feel it in our energy // I see us written in the stars

Shunsui knew that he was an old man. It was a notion he never attempted to disavow himself of, finding it to be a pointless endeavour; Besides, he was proud of his age.

With age, comes wisdom, one that he has refined enough to know not to deny the fluttering of his heart whenever he so much as heard your name. For him, it was nothing to be  embarrassed about, no matters of the heart were. He would readily admit that it was a bit disorienting. One moment he’d be talking with Nanao and suddenly his breath would be stolen at the slightest hint of your perfume. 

You possessed a gift so unique, a hold over him like no other. Being in your presence somehow managed to send him back to his days in the academy, leaving him feeling like nothing more than a lovesick student. You’d set his heart alight and made it seem as though the world was slipping away every time you smiled. Your visage immediately righted any wrongs. He was sure that your laughter could cure any affliction he may be ailed with. To put it simply, Shunsui had found himself utterly enraptured by you and yet, he didn’t mind. The butterflies you’d managed to elicit from him only added to the weightless feeling he’d become stuck with since meeting you.

We can go wherever, so let's do it now or never, baby // Nothing's ever, ever too far

You hadn’t treated Shunsui any different from normal, but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. The usually laid-back yet sharp captain suddenly became ditzy and distracted whenever you so much as glanced at him. He was quite obvious, and though he hadn’t quite acted upon his feelings, he’d made it clear where he stood. His schedule as head captain didn’t allow him free time at the best of moments and yet Nanao somehow found herself overencumbered trying to fit ‘Lunch with Y/N <3’ into Shunsui’s schedule.

“I don’t see why you don’t make things official with her. Everyone already knows that you two are sickeningly in love with each other”, Nanao would frequently complain.

Shunsui would always fix her with a look that would make her regret saying anything and reply, “Matters of the heart can’t be rushed.”

If you asked Nanao, it was all arbitrary bullshit. If she voiced that particular complaint however, Shunsui would “remind” her that she’d “understand when you have someone to love”.

Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes//Shining just the way we are

“Oh Shunsui, this is lovely.”

As you cooed over the late-night picnic that he set up, he took a moment to examine your features. The curve of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the reverent way your hair framed your face. Everything about you looked lovely as usual, bathed in moonlight however…

He’d give you anything you wanted.

When you looked at him with those eyes, endlessly rich and glittering with the light of the night sky, he couldn’t help but yearn to kiss you. Even just a gentle press against your lips, oh how he’d kiss you so lovingly. He’d hold you so gently and ask if he could have just one more, one more, one more.

Your gaze flickered down to his lips.

He ran his tongue over them and he swore your eyes grew darker.

You placed a tentative hand into his hair, nervous but sure fingers weaving their way into his tresses. He swears then and there that he has never loved his hair more (if only so that there’s more of him for you to touch).

He cups your face with his hand. You lean into his palm and smile. He feels that weightless feeling come back as he leans forward to feel that smile against his skin when--

“Oh Shunsui look! Did you know there were going to be fireworks tonight?”

He did, it’s one of the reasons he planned a date on the rooftop of his home. He wanted you to see the fireworks and he wanted to see the way your skin would look bathed in the multi-colored light. He doesn’t regret the way your face lights up, this time in awe, but he does wish the timing could’ve been a little better.

He supposes the feeling of your body pressed against his is an apt substitute.

I feel like we're forever, every time we get together//But whatever, let's get lost on Mars

It is not long after the night with the fireworks that Shunsui decides that maybe Nanao was right. He found that the temptation of you was far too much for him to bear. He’d been distracted since that night with thoughts of you, driven himself half mad wondering what could’ve been if he’d leaned in a fraction sooner.

It isn’t until he visits your office for a quick cup of tea (something that both you and Nanao have scolded him for) that he has this realization however. You tell him that you don’t have much time to chat, Seireitei Communications is running some special issue from what he can recall, but you’re happy to spend this time with him. 

As you get up, telling him he’s free to stay as long as he’d like, “Although, you really should get back to work Shunsui, you’ll stress poor Nanao out”, and leave, he feels a sinking feeling for the first time in relation to you. It all just clicks for him that he wants the feelings he has with you to last forever. He wants a lifetime of levitating, of your joy, of your glittering eyes locked onto him, he wants you for as long as you’ll have him.

He realizes that the fluttering feeling comes back at the mere thought of calling you his spouse.

As he floats back to his office (he isn’t quite sure that his feet ever touch the ground), confusing every person he passes along the way, he places an order for a ring and decides to have a talk with you after things settle down.

Later, when you drop by his office with snacks as a small pick-me-up, you ask him what’s got him so giddy. He merely replies with a look that turns heated the longer he looks at you. It softens at the adorably flustered way you mess with your hair and look away from him. You try your damnedest to avoid making eye contact with him, squirming in such a way that, if he were less of a gentleman he’d pull you close and feel how affected one look made you.

As it stands, he decides he can wait a little longer.

‘You want me, I want you, baby’

After mulling it over, he decides he wants the proposal to be a private affair. The entirety of the Sereitei may know of your feelings for each other but that didn’t mean they needed to see this. He wanted to keep the way that your face-- nightsky eyes glimmering-- would light up to himself. He never considered himself to be a selfish man but he supposed when it came to you, everything became unexpected.

He still remembers the way his stomach, twisted in knots, became miraculously clear when you smiled. He asked if marriage was what you wanted, if it was ok to marry you. All the more reason to keep the proposal private, it’s much harder to reject a public suit from the captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads (you’d still reject him if you wanted regardless, another reason he was nervous).

You looked at him, trying to piece together what he was asking before deciding on your answer. “I’d love to marry you if that’s what you’re asking me Shunsui.” Somehow, your smile grew even larger, he wasn’t sure what his face looked like but he’s sure his grin matched yours.

Just thinking back to that day makes this moment all the more important. In the weeks following that conversation, you’d joked that you’d be eagerly awaiting his next move. He’d welcomed the challenge, stupidly. Now he was standing here fretting over if the grass was green enough, what if you suddenly became allergic to his shampoo-- He hoped that you wouldn’t notice the clamminess of his hands.

Another power that you found yourself ordained with, making the great Head Captain nervous. He could sense your spiritual pressure before you, which made him snap out of ‘panic mode’ into ‘focused commander mode’.

When he saw you, dressed up beautifully, jewels in your braided hair. He relaxed incrementally, this wasn’t a battle to be won, you were the one he loved. He was proposing, all he had to do was speak from the heart (easy) and hope you’d accept (he was sure you would but he was nonsensical at the best of times).

He saw recognition in your eyes, like a loose thread that has finally been tucked back into place. Your eyes tear up as he moves to ask you the question that has plagued his mind for months.

You nearly burst into tears, nodding happily and sealing your engagement with a kiss.

I'm levitating

[romirola]

Headcanons for the Shaw Pack's 2024 Resolutions (and How They Aim to Achieve Them)

David: Unplug more. He plans to set an alarm each night to remind himself to turn off his email notifications. (The pack would call him or howl if it were an emergency.) It's harder than he anticipates and he can't stop himself from opening the app like a bad new habit, only adding to his anxiety and workaholic tendencies. To prevent himself from checking his emails after the designated "turn-off time", David enlists Angel to "monitor" his behavior. They are more than happy to distract David whenever he starts to fidget with his phone.

Angel: Establish a morning routine. Angel presumes that simply getting up earlier would automatically give them time to do all the things they want to, such as savor their tea, make their bed, work out, read, and take a long and luxurious shower, but it turns out it is not that easy. Angel struggles to get up at the designated earlier time, and even when they do, they always end up getting bogged down by other things. David helps Angel reach their goal by encouraging them to use a special grapefruit body lotion that he knows they (and he) love after their shower each morning. That way, they can feel and smell the evidence that even if the morning got away from them, they did add one element to their new routine.

Asher: Always be on time. Asher is sick of the jokes about his tardiness, so he decides to put an end to it once and for all by setting all of his clocks ahead about twenty minutes, so even if he is late on Asher-time, he's still punctual according to the real time. Babe supports his plan by agreeing to have all their clocks show the wrong time.

Babe: Smile more. Babe aims to find more reasons to smile. They are someone who always takes things quite seriously, and often struggle to find joy in the small things so many others seem to observe innately. Asher decides to make it a point to send Babe one joke video/meme at a random point in each day to help them along. Over time, Asher enlists many other pack members to do the same, resulting in Babe receiving multiple happy messages with no warning. They don't know what makes them smile more, the memes or the realization that so many people are invested in their happiness.

Milo: Be more adventurous. Left to his own devices, Milo has realized he's fallen into a bit of a rut. He makes the same recipes, works the same hours, trains the same gymnastics routine, listens to the same playlists, watches the same TV shows, etc. etc. He decides it's time to shake things up a bit, so he tries to do something new and unexpected at least once a day. If he starts to retreat into his rut again, Sweetheart will gently remind Milo of his goal, rationalizing that after he does the new thing, Milo will either find something he likes and will want to do again, or he'll know he'll never want to do it again and never has to.

Sweetheart: They don't do resolutions. There's no reason the first of the year necessitates them to set goals and put a time limit on them. They have lots of goals, and they will meet all of them without arbitrary pressure. Although, they'd really like to be able to learn a new language, and if they so happened to make enough progress to have a conversation in that new language with a citizen in need at work by the end of the year, well, that'd be great... Milo knows they won't accept help if he calls their goal a "resolution" so he steers clear of the label and instead, encourages Sweetheart to find time to practice.

Darling: Be more organized. Darling has learned to be okay with a lot in their life, and organization was often something they didn't have time or energy to create for themselves. Now that they do, Darling decides to reorganize everything in the house, one room at a time, so that the house looks as wonderful as it makes Darling feel to call it home. When they feel overwhelmed by the work, Sam shows them a "before" picture of the mess so that Darling can see the incremental progress they make each step of the way.

Sam: Run a half-marathon, the human way. As a human, Sam kept fit, though he always aspired to run long distances. He consistently made excuses, until suddenly, he realized that "next year" was no longer guaranteed. Once he learned to control his vampire powers, Sam could run faster and farther than he ever thought possible, but that didn't mean he had truly reached his goal. This year, Sam decides to take up running and to train (sans leaning on his powers) to for an upcoming half-marathon in July. Darling, of course, takes up the role of trainer. As a human, they accompany Sam to the track to help him practice and pace himself. As a wolf, they give him some extra incentive by chasing him.

[iamnmbr3]

honestly why did jkr choose DUMBLEDORE as arbitrary gay 'rep'. Besides the not even there stuff he is an awful person.

(And you could pretty easily read him as that sort of Creep. Like I know that's not the sort of grooming people mean but that's always what I think :( )

I know. She really went 'diversity win! the serial liar and manipulator of children who is weirdly fixated on the attractiveness of an 11 year old is gay!'

Now I am absolutely NOT saying that a gay character cannot be flawed or even downright evil. Being gay doesn't make someone inherently bad - or inherently good. Gay people are humans - and just like any other group of humans are capable of the full range of human complexity. However, when the ONLY gay character is like this it feels like their negative personality traits are tied to their gayness. (Just like if Dumbledore was the only straight character it might feel like the author was was casting aspersions on the morality of straight people - even if that wasn't her intent).

Also it's so weird because there were so many other characters that are very frequently read as queer - including Tonks, Lupin, Draco, and Sirius. Not to mention HARRY POTTER himself. But nope. JKR was extremely resistant to anyone even suggesting these characters might not be straight (lol joke's on her - she might not have meant to write these characters as not straight but she did. be mad about it jkr). Only the character who had one queer romance which was extremely destructive and then swore himself to a life of celibacy where he spends all his time manipulated children is allowed to be gay apparently. smh.

And yeah. As for Dumbledore coming across kinda creepy, I definitely think it wasn't JKR's intention but it is a very valid reading based on what she wrote. I mean Dumbledore literally is out there saying 'oh yeah one of the only reasons adults liked this 11 year old child was because he was hot' without any awareness of how incredibly messed up a thing that is to say.

Like if that's something he's comfortable admitting publicly what thoughts doesn't he admit to? This is just an incredibly bizarre thing to say and really says a lot about how he perceives the world.

Why does he assume that all adult teachers pay attention to how attractive the children they are responsible for are? Why does he assume that teachers' treatment of their UNDERAGE STUDENTS is affected by attractive they find each child? That is not how an adult should ever be relating to or thinking about a child.

And it's specifically attractiveness he highlights - not cuteness or charm or literally anything even slightly more appropriate to favor a child for (even though it would still be wrong to favor a student). No. It's the same way he talks about Tom later. He suggests that Tom used his looks in some sort of evil seductor routine to victimize Hepzibah Smith - even though what we actually see is HER creeping on Tom, so it comes across very much as a "he was asking for it" and "he was to blame because he was being a temptation simply by existing" type perspective which is absolutely repellent. And seemingly Dumbledore was thinking about Tom in that way right from the beginning.

In addition, I will say it's notable that in the Hepzibah Smith memory Dumbledore seems to sympathize with the person who is acting as a predator. (I mean she literally touches Tom without his consent and tries to hit on him multiple times while he tries to change the subject and seems super uncomfortable; she is the aggressor in that interaction).

It's also notable that Dumbledore seems to take Tom rejection of him at their first meeting very personally which is odd. Tom's reaction to Dumbledore is not that surprising but Albus seems to take great offense at the fact that Tom does not trust or look up to or like him and does not want to spend time with him or accept his friendship. It's a rather unusual way for an adult to react.

And more generally he doesn't treat children as children. He talks about child!Tom the same as he does adult!Tom and doesn't seem to view him as ever having been fundamentally different. He happily sends Harry and his friends into danger.

He also has a nasty habit of reading people's minds without their consent. I don't think it's a coincidence that nothing about the topic of Occlumency is taught at Hogwarts. It seems that he's been frequently reading the minds of the Golden Trio (and probably other students) for years - probably since book 1; and the mind is a very intimate and scared part of a person that shouldn't just be violated. Characters having a blank or closed look is often used as a descriptor to suggest that that character is employing Occlumency. We know Tom's mind powers were quite developed and I think he successfully blocked Dumbledore from his mind during their first encounter (after Dumbledore read his mind to find out about the things he stole) as right after that scene he is described in similar ways to scenes where characters use Occlumency. And this denial and rejection may been part of what particularly irritated Dumbledore.

His interactions with kids - and especially his fixation on Tom - are very weird. And you could definitely read it as him having some sort of repressed (or not repressed) attraction/fixation that he's probably in denial about (or does mental gymnastics to justify). 100 percent not JKR's intent. But yeah. The way she wrote him is kinda off.

[shituationist]

the drexler-smalley debate on nanotechnology is interesting to me. it's also interesting that it's largely forgotten. young people today are mostly unaware of what kind of hype nanotechnology had going for it in the early 2000s, which has now all but died down. there was a point where singularitarians were worried about the possibility of "grey goo" taking over the earth before "AGI" did. nowadays it's rare to hear them talk about nanotechnology at all.

drexler was the nanotechnology hype man. to a lesser degree, so was smalley. both believed in the potential for nanotechnology to address human problems, but drexler was the "grey goo" guy who believed in nano-scale mechanical synthesis of arbitrary molecular compounds. smalley on the other hand viewed nanotechnology as essentially a specialized branch of chemistry, and believed that nanotechnology would have to - to put it bluntly - obey the laws of nature that govern normal chemical synthesis.

smalley's contribution was criticized for relying on metaphor, but this isn't really the case. smalley tries to get drexler to step away from science fiction and towards how chemical interactions really work. drexler's case is more defensive and much weaker than his own advocates let on. smalley argues that if you want to do chemical synthesis, you can't break physical laws to do it. he tries to demonstrate why hypothetical nano-scale mechanical "fingers" would fail to synthesize chemicals in the desired fashion, limiting what kinds of materials can be fabricated.

drexler rejects that hypothetical machinery and then shifts the terms of the debate back to relatively ordinary bio-chemistry. both mention ribosomes, which produce enzymes, as prototypical "molecular assemblers". smalley is pleased by their convergence on this point. he tries to drive home his point further about the limitations of what hypothetical engineered ribosomes could produce, and how the vision of self-assembling nanobots is unrealistic given the way natural "molecular assemblers" really work. but drexler shifts the focus again back to the mechano-synthesis of his dreams/nightmares, envisioning molecular assemblers as a nano-scale factory floor complete with conveyor belts and a kind of mechanical smushing together of molecules, analogous to macro-level manufacturing processes.

smalley wasn't having it. his concluding letter begins with: "I see you have now walked out of the room where I had led you to talk about real chemistry, and you are now back in your mechanical world. I am sorry we have ended up like this. For a moment I thought we were making progress." you can hear the disappointment in his tone.

and it got worse: "You are still in a pretend world where atoms go where you want because your computer program directs them to go there. You assume there is a way a robotic manipulator arm can do that in a vacuum, and somehow we will work out a way to have this whole thing actually be able to make another copy of itself. I have given you reasons why such an assembler cannot be built, and will not operate, using the principles you suggest. I consider that your failure to provide a working strategy indicates that you implicitly concur--even as you explicitly deny--that the idea cannot work."

smalley then goes on to talk about how drexler's idea of "grey goo" has scared children who are interested in science and how he should be ashamed of himself. at that point he's just rubbing it in. but the debate ends there, too. smalley dies a few years later. drexler, for his part, seems to have given up on the "grey goo" idea when the funding for nanotechnology research started to dry up. he's an "AI" risk guy nowadays, collecting consulting fees for "AI safety" types of things. in retrospect, it seems like smalley was right. the direction of nanotechnology research went towards practical chemistry inspired by ribosomes and enzymes and limited by the physical qualities of those systems, the kinds of limitations smalley describes. drexler's "self-assembling nanobots" are nowadays regarded as a kind of science fiction by eminent researchers in the field. smalley's key points, that there are limitations to what biological "molecular assemblers" can produce and the constraints on how they can be produced, have withstood a couple decades of scientific research.

[overleftdown]

farleigh analysis PART 3, because i might as well do the entire movie at this point. i'm locked in. this is going to cover the early-saltburn summer era. AKA, oliver's once in a lifetime, hand job on a haybale, golden big boy summer. everything after venetia and oliver's sex scene is in another post on my blog. this one is pretty short.

[0:34:42] (they're watching superbad. teehee.)

farleigh looks borderline revolted in the background of this shot, which is so funny to me. superbad is, in my opinion, notoriously rude. the comedy is hollow, childish, homophobic, etc. even seth rogan admits that the movie is tone deaf and aged horribly. that's neither here nor there, though. all i'm saying is that i can't imagine farleigh would enjoy the movie as a queer person.

[0:35:19] elsbeth: is that right, he had to put his fingers down his mother's throat to make her sick? farleigh: yeah. felix: farleigh, that's private stuff! farleigh: well, you told us. felix: in confidence!

when elsbeth initially asks the question, she's looking directly at farleigh. yet, when felix confronts farleigh about discussing private matters, farleigh responds with "well, you told us." meaning the family, i assume. felix had no issue with elsbeth and pamela discussing oliver's home life until farleigh was very moderately involved. it's odd to me. and yes, felix is the one that told them. moral superiority, or something. having someone to blame, even when you enabled their gossiping in the first place.

[0:35:34] elsbeth: we should give him the most wonderful time! farleigh: good luck, he doesn't smile much. elsbeth: farleigh seems to think he's ghastly. why are you friends with him, darling?

really, you can tell that elsbeth likes farleigh. she respects his opinion to a certain extent. i also talked about the tutor scene in part 2, and how i consider the "style over substance" debate a metaphorical parallel to farleigh over oliver. here, farleigh once again points out the style of oliver's social interactions: he doesn't smile much. when you look at this from a social and... neurotypical perspective, lacking a smile during conversation can mean a lot of negative things. farleigh seems to have a dedicated focus on arbitrary social expectations, largely because he has to.

[0:35:33] farleigh: and here he is now! we were just talking about you. elsbeth: don't be silly! farleigh, you just make up the most awful things. of course we weren't!

once again, in traditional catton fashion, farleigh is scolded for saying doing something that contrasts the cattons saviorism. obviously oliver knew they were talking about them. i can't blame elsbeth for attempting to backtrack, but "farleigh, you just make up the most awful things" is a weirdly unnecessary throat punch. she's stepping on farleigh to appear taller, if you will. at 0:36:34, when elsbeth asks oliver to sit by her, farleigh looks so exceptionally irritated. he rolls his eyes, looks back towards his computer, and sighs dramatically. wonderful. he's so sick and tired.

[0:37:20] elsbeth: i've lost so many friends to addiction. so, so many dear, dear friends. it's the root of poor pamela's horrors too, i'm afraid. farleigh: and the only interesting thing about her. elsbeth: farleigh! no, she is rather dull, actually. but she's so beautiful. you have to admit, she's very beautiful.

elsbeth and her obsession with physical appearances. once again, style over substance. and her outrage at farleigh refusing to soften the blow on his statements, before following it with her own (albeit less crude) dig at pamela. style over substance. wouldn't it a little uncanny, a little scary, to be the only person of color in a household that places physical appearance on such a high pedestal? especially a household as ignorant as the cattons. that's just conjecture, though. oliver has the ability to manipulate a space for himself in the family without sacrificing any of the qualities he began with. he never really smiles more, throughout the summer. he never really loses his signature awkwardness, his imposing energy.

[0:40:05] elsbeth: you know we're delighted to have you for however long it is you mean to stay. farleigh: forever...? pamela: oh, no. i think i might have, erm, found somewhere. elsbeth: oh, well done, darling! james: oh, good!

right after james says "good," you can see farleigh turning to look at him. prompting james to drop the hatchet on pamela's prolonged stay at saltburn, i'm assumng. this is what's interesting to me, i think. again, farleigh lacks the drive to play the same game as oliver. farleigh doesn't want to nurture the charitable actions of the cattons. farleigh believes the other guests at saltburn take up the space that he would otherwise fill. just like at oxford, when felix is sitting with someone else, farleigh is discarded. when elsbeth invited oliver to sit next to her, farleigh looks annoyed. the cattons capacity for attention and kindness is depressingly small. farleigh isn't playing chess, he's trying to win by sheer survival of the fittest.

for the next few, brief scene of farleigh and oliver interacting, oliver repeatedly proves that he does his research. i can't get over it, to be honest. neither can farleigh; if looks could kill, oliver would've been dead within 10 minutes of arriving at saltburn. the methods farleigh and oliver uses to remain relevant in the catton catalogue are so wildly different. farleigh, who uses his personality and social skills to keep the cattons entertained and charmed by him. i'm sure he loves to gossip with elsbeth, wine and dines with venetia, and he clearly does everything in his power to stay glued to felix's side throughout the school year. this is someone who has never considered manipulating the cattons; he just wants to be one of them, and he wants it to be easy. can you blame him?

[cinnamonest]

Yandere twst - Jamil

Taking this as an opportunity to make a post for my boy!!! Similar to the last one I'm going with a "consensual relationship that quickly takes a turn for the worse," I am liking the dynamic >:3 Important note that you should probably read the last one for Kalim prior to this one (I originally intended to release it as one post but ended up dividing it bc both were like 12k+ words lmao), so this one makes several references to the other one.

Previous entries for twst series:

[Kalim]

[Floyd]

//manipulative bastard behavior/moderate yandere, somewhat dark, bullying, mind control, I think there might be implications of fem reader iirc

------------

The first interaction you have with Jamil is only a few brief moments. A conversation in passing, the sort of empty casual exchange that is normally more or less forgotten by both parties before the day is even over.

He's pretty aware of his surroundings at all times, so he sort of saw you walking over out of the corner of his eye, working himself away making food and setting up arrangements and venue as per usual for some function or another that Kalim decided to hold at the last minute on the main campus grounds . Bouncing from one task to the next. But several others have passed by already without a word, so it catches him a bit by surprise when your steps come to a halt, when you speak.

You know, every time I see you, you're always working on something. Don't you ever rest?

Your tone is that sort of endearing, amused way of speaking, but still seems to express a genuine sentiment. You're not exactly spending idle time either -- you have some box or package in your hands, headed somewhere to drop something off. Who knows what compelled you to say something, on this one occasion in particular, to voice the observation you've made quite a few times now. Spontaneous, spur of the moment.  A decision made with casual impulse.

His eyebrows raise, but it doesn't take him more than a moment to formulate a response. A very generic response, one that comes out mechanically, given how often people express similar thoughts to him, tell him he's working too hard, that he deserves a break and all that, things he hears pretty frequently. A randomly chosen option, the first that comes to mind, of a preset list of responses to such inquiries and comments.

A casual sigh, a shrug of the shoulders, followed with a 'well, someone has to get this done, might as well do it myself.' With a pleasant tone and a slight chuckle, of course, as socially expected, that perfect level of exasperation to where he can complain, but just not enough to make it seem like he actually feels burdened. A default exchange like so many others, that he recites his parts of without really thinking about it.

Likewise, you give what he perceives as a typical reply.

If you need any help, I can come back as soon as I get this dropped off...

He just shakes his head.

That's alright. Everything that can be done today is nearly finished anyway.

You shift the box you're carrying, jerking it up with a soft motion to re-secure it in your arms.

Well, alright, if you say so... you can let me know if you ever need any help with anything!

Of course, that in and of itself is also an empty social gesture. So often people say things of the sort -- let me know if you need anything, or I can help if you need, so on and so on, a courtesy expected by arbitrary rules of social etiquette, but not anticipated to be very likely to be actually taken up on the offer. He couldn't even count how many times people have said similar things to him, it's just a matter of social propriety. The exchange melts into the vast collection of perpetual memory, as with every other uneventful moment in one's life, and he doesn't think of it again for the rest of the day.

He's a bit taken aback, then, when you show up the next day. You can see the slight bewilderment on his face when he asks if you need something. Your reply is a bit sheepish, but friendly.

Well, you said 'everything that can get done today' yesterday, so I figured you'd be busy again today too... I don't have anything better to do, and I'm trying to get to know people here, you know? You seem like you could use some help.

Ah. Well, that does make sense. In truth, he values the solitary time he gets to himself, and trying to get to know new people often leaves him rather exhausted. But still, you're a pleasant person, and he would appreciate getting this set-up work for the event tomorrow done faster. He thanks you, pauses for a moment while trying to determine a task to delegate to you. Can't give you something too difficult, seeing as you're generous enough to do this in the first place. You end up performing some menial, repetitive task, simple but necessary, while he does the heavy lifting and more difficult aspects.

It's easy to talk to you, thankfully. You mostly just ask him a bunch of questions about the school, about himself, about Kalim, about the Scarabia dorm, so on and so on. Nothing too intrusive, nothing that's difficult to answer. Truthfully, it's actually kind of nice. He's not particularly used to people expressing a great deal of interest in him, he usually sort of works in the background, quiet, unnoticed, doesn't draw attention to himself. He was a bit weary of the thought of working with someone on this, but he finds that he actually enjoyed the time, once it's over, when you bid him farewell and head back to your own dorm, promising to come by again sometime.

But again, that's a social courtesy. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. It would be rather nice, but he won't be too disappointed nor surprised if you don't; after all, you must be very busy meeting tons of people and adjusting to the situation you've found yourself in here. He's not expecting anything.

Since over a week passes, he starts to think it will be just a one-time thing, not thinking much of it. It's a rather pleasant surprise, this time around, when you do show up again. He says it's nice to see you again, even more of those necessary appropriate courtesy things he's supposed to say, although it is meant sincerely. Thanks you for coming by again.

Conversation comes a bit more easily, as you're not really strangers this time around, your exchanges lack that inherent slight awkwardness that comes with interacting with a person you've never spoken to before. This time he can make some conversation based on asking you how your week was, how you're getting adjusted, so on and so on.

You come back a third time, after that, this time only around five days later. Then a fourth time, although that time you take even longer than the time between the first and second visit. He does take notice of that, supposing it to just be a habit of being observant of details like that.

It turns into a habit. You keep coming back, trying to help out. It's an appreciated act of kindness, but... somewhat uncomfortable, too. He's used to having to do quite a lot by himself, or employing the help of random Scarabia students, but even then he's acting more as a director, telling them what to do while working on other tasks himself. He's not as much used to working directly with someone, having someone hand him things and work right alongside him.

Still, it gets the job done faster. And it's nice to have someone to talk to, makes it feel like it's going by faster too. Not to mention, your returning to help him on multiple occasions suggests you have some desire to be around him, since he's fairly certain it's not as if you find manual labor particularly enthralling or anything. That gives him a feeling that is very...

...Unpleasant.

Yes, categorically, it should be considered unpleasant. A tight constriction of the chest, jittery nerves, increased heart rate, a feeling of unease and bashfulness. None of that is particularly positive, and in fact is rather irksome.

But the feeling is somehow, nonetheless, an addictive one, a sort of natural chemical high that, despite the duality of its unpleasantness, still leaves him with that trademark "warm fuzzy feeling" for the rest of the day, well after your departure. The back-and-forth of how good and bad the feeling is, is confusing and frustrating in and of itself. Not to mention the way he gradually increasingly finds his thoughts drifting to you in some way, wondering what you're doing and where you are. The sudden rushing feeling to his chest whenever he happens to spot you. The way he starts to look forward to your coming to visit and help. The surge of excitement when you do come walking through the door, and admittedly, acute disappointment on the days you don't show up.

More importantly, the conclusions to be drawn are frustrating. He's not clueless, quite the opposite. The realization of the sentiments he has for you aren't something he goes into self-denial about, nor does he have to sort through them.

It just sort of dawns on him one day, when you show up a few minutes late to a class you both have -- he finds himself a bit worried for the few minutes of your absence, and similarly a sensation of relief when you come sheepishly slinking through the doorway, quietly trying to enter the room without being noticed or called out for tardiness. Your eyes briefly meet from across the room. You flash a quick smile in his direction before heading to the spot you normally sit in. The slight concern, the relief, the way that one quick second of eye contact and smile from you made his heartrate go up, made a warm tight feeling in his chest... it just sort of occurs to him within that moment. Yes, he's not the sort of person to be in denial or delusion and convince himself he feels any other way, and is quite good at recognizing and fully understanding his own psychology.

...

...

...Ugh.

Not that he doesn't appreciate you or anything, but at first, it's actually something he's not particularly thrilled about, quite frustrated actually.

Firstly, it's inconvenient. For someone as busy and with so many responsibilities as himself, it's not good to have distractions or liabilities. Such things can compromise one's sense of priority, and keep oneself absent-minded, neither of which he can afford.

More importantly, it's a sort of weakness that he doesn't like the thought of having. His calmness and composition throughout most matters is largely dependent on the fact that he tends to operate from a distance, executing plans by proxy or otherwise indirectly. He doesn't approach things very head-on, it's just not his way of doing things. And any matters he conducts are usually professional or academic, rarely having to involve feelings and emotions, particularly in a relational sense to other people. While he's very persuasive, well-liked, and certainly doesn't struggle to socialize or anything, he doesn't really form a lot of very close relationships.

Thus, while would never admit to it, he's sort of lost when it comes to matters of a truly romantic nature, and would be very awkward if he tried to be forward or initiate any sort of display of affection. Thankfully, he's self-aware of that, and isn't about to make a fool of himself doing something stupid and impulsive.

This leads to a sort of stagnation. Yes, he'll do everything in his power to set up the correct circumstances in which he can be around you, will manipulate all sorts of surrounding factors and nearly everyone in your social network, even if that involves countless hours of quietly carrying out plans... he just won't, you know, ever say it outright to you, at least not unless you do first.

After all, even in literature and media, courtship is often compared to some form of game, where the one who cares more and needs the other more is thought of as the weaker, "losing" party. There's an innate sort of vulnerability to transparency in openness to one's emotions, and he's strongly averse to that. Part of it is the innate sensitivity to rejection present in all people, but it's also a matter of control. He likes situations and people and things that give him a firm sense of control, stability, security. People who are easily manipulated, situations that he can easily direct the outcome of... and opening up such a situation would mean relinquishing control of whatever happens next, control of his own emotional state, control over the inherent power imbalance present deep within every social interaction, over to you. Can't do that.

And when that "losing" party makes their desperation and vulnerability known, it turns off the other, bores them, makes them feel the desperate one is disposable and soon treats them as such after losing interest.

Well, some people. If you ask him, the thought of that level of desperation and neediness from a partner is actually quite nice. He can't really wrap his head around why some people would find it irritating or boring when just the thought of it seems like a euphoric fantasy. Since he likes control, a lack thereof, a sense that something is slipping out of his grasp, that he can't easily dictate the actions or results of something, is something he can't stand for.

So, he can't do it. Can't expose that degree of openness, risk rejection.

But that's alright, he can't afford to have that sort of relationship with someone anyway, it would simply interfere with his responsibilities too much. So he determines, at least initially.

The solution to both of these problems, then, is to simply refrain. No interference with his responsibilities, and no need to expose any vulnerability. He's very used to restraining his emotions, refraining from acting upon impulses or desires, however harmless they may be, because responsibility must take priority. Rarely has something consumed his thoughts to such a degree, but still, he can handle it.

Thus, for a while, he might actually avoid you to some extent, thinking it will decrease the chances of attachment. Gets things done in a different location than where you usually find him, works at different times.

But then it seems so boring and empty when he's working alone, when he doesn't have your bright smile there, it feels very... depressing. Likewise, when he sees you again, coming up with some excuse as to why he was absent the day before or so (did you come looking for him and he wasn't there? Were you disappointed? The thought of that is satisfying on its own...), the discontentment goes right back to feeling everything is alright and well with the world, and it's a feeling he just can't give up.

He quickly realizes it seems pointless to continuously resist. If he can't rid himself of it, he might as well try to work with it, adapt to the best of his ability. That seems like the only logical conclusion. Keep you close, but not too close, and to avoid exposing any affections beyond very simple appreciation for your help and presence, at least until he has full security that he can afford to do otherwise.

He doesn't initiate it, but gladly welcomes it when you start to seek him out elsewhere. You learn you have the same lunch period during most of the week, and a few electives together. You don't always talk to or sit next to him, but you sort of rotate between your friends, so he gets to interact with you some of the time.

The other times, though, you opt to talk to others instead. Turns out you're getting along quite well with several people on campus since you showed up here. He just sort of waits at the beginning of the class to see whether or not you'll come to him, or if you go to someone else.

If it's the former, he's certainly happy about it, perhaps almost a bit relieved that that was your choice. You would never get the impression it was what he was hoping for, though, he ensures that. Refrains from looking up when you enter a room, stares blankly down at a paper or textbook on the desk, as if not paying attention, giving no semblance of caring either way, merely watching you from the corner of his eye, and pretending to only notice your presence the moment you sit down.

Whenever it's the latter, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an increasingly sharp sense of disappointment. Perhaps a bit of irritation. A strange, gnawing feeling in his stomach, a tightness to his chest. Very opposing feelings, ones that he soon realizes linger with him the entire day. If you choose to talk to him, the rest of his day feels great, and if not, he finds himself a bit disgruntled for the rest of the day. It feels embarrassing for something so simple to be affecting him to such an extent, but he can't control the emotional aspect.

That begins to create a greater concern.

A bit of worry that this initially unwelcome sentiment of affection is starting to create some other, more problematic feelings. Ones that feel harder to handle.

It's more of a subconscious worry, at first, a faint uneasiness that largely rests at the back of his mind. The full extent of the realization comes as a sudden occurrence, one day, when you don't show up at the end of the day for the first time in a while, seeing as you've started coming by to help him out on a daily basis now.

He's a bit disappointed, sure. But it's no big deal, it's not as if you ever agreed to come every day or anything, you're certainly under no obligation to do so, it's incredibly generous for you to come at all in the first place.

...You could have said something, though, you know.

It's not as if you don't see him throughout the day in passing, in class. It's completely voluntary to begin with, so of course it's not necessary for you to tell him if you're coming or not, nor does he take it as a rudeness that you didn't, it's just... you could have. It would have been appreciated. After all, now he has to wonder where you are, which leads him to contemplate the very small possibility that something might be wrong, which causes unnecessary worry that he could have been spared had you just bothered to stop him for a second, or send a message with a single sentence since you exchanged numbers a while back, neither of which would have taken very long... but that's a selfish mentality, so he tells himself. Obviously you must be spending time with other people doing other things, like anyone does, which you have every right to do.

He can't help but wonder with whom, though. A few people come to mind, he mentally goes down the list of people he sees you with most frequently and at what time of day he sees you with each one...

Which is something he only now realizes he's subconsciously been keeping track of. But that's force of habit, he has to be observant like that... okay, no, it's not, it's definitely more than that, he can't lie to himself. The force of habit does contribute, but nonetheless.

Still, if he runs down the list, given the time of day and day of the week, he can come up with one most likely possibility, and a couple lesser possibilities, as to your current location, company, and activity. The fair degree of certainty is reassuring.

But there's still a knot in his stomach the more he thinks about it. His hands keep working, but his mind is playing imagery and words in his imagination, things you might be talking about and saying and doing and what others might be saying back to you and it's a very, very, very awful feeling.

Soon enough, he's forced to snap back to awareness when he realizes the task he was working on is done while his mind was elsewhere, and nearly an hour has passed. He should probably go home and get started on food for the evening.

It's not the direction his feet take him in, though.

It can't hurt to check just for a second. Besides, it's only like a five minute detour, so he might as well. Just a brisk walk through a few halls, down a few doors, just barely peeking over a door window to ensure he remains unseen.

Sure enough, he was right. You're just sitting around and talking. He makes a quick mental note of the other individuals in the room, tries to listen in for a moment before realizing it's (unfortunately) too muffled to be clearly heard, then turns around and goes home.

And ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, elbow to each thigh and head resting on each respective hand, staring at the wall, running through the events of the past hour and a half, fully realizing the significance of how unusual and intense his behavior was. He was aware of it even in the moment, sure, but the momentary impulse overrode any sense of reason. It's a mistake he tells himself not to make again.

But he knows the feeling is increasing. The intensity is getting worse and worse with each passing day. While he's careful not to be careless about it, he finds himself making a habit of checking on you on the days you don't come around to see him. The fact that there even are such days, seeing you with other people doing something else, starts to upset him more and more, to the extent he starts thinking about it at random throughout the day. Each occurrence of such thoughts striking him with a feeling of bitterness that makes him clench his jaw, curl his hands into fists, even respond more bluntly than he normally would to other people when approached -- he even overheard, on one such occasion, after giving a frustrated what? to someone that approached him, the same student remarking to someone else that the vice housewarden has been in a really poor mood lately, to which the other seemed to agree.

The potential consequences of it all does worry him. But his response to these emotions, and understanding of them, isn't quite what you might expect.

Unlike almost anyone else would be, he's not concerned or confused by the acknowledgement of the fact that he has abnormally intense, compulsive, obsessive attachment. He's not really alarmed by realizing what's happening.

See, most people go through a reckoning phase, having to do with their self-image. Most see themselves as a good person, and struggle to come to terms with their actions and thoughts — ultimately either coming to terms with the wrongness of what they want, or deluding themselves.

But Jamil is no stranger to having nefarious urges, nor does he have any real issues with acceptance of the reality of his desires. But more importantly, part of what makes him such a force to be reckoned with, and gives him such frightening potential for success as an obsessive, is a lack of any compulsion to prescribe to conventional morality, nor any feeling of need to justify his own actions. He's fully aware that the ideas in his head and urges in his thoughts are "wrong," there's no period of self-bargaining or attempting to rationalize or justify anything to himself, no attempts at self-delusion. He's just perfectly fine with accepting that he wants to do things considered immoral.

In fact, completely unlike Kalim, he's almost unnervingly self-aware. There may have been a bit of confusion, or very brief attempts to justify his actions to himself in the beginning, but after the initial realizations take place, he becomes acutely and immediately aware of every thought, every action.

He wouldn't think of himself as a bad person, but unlike most people, he doesn't think of himself as a particularly good person either. In fact, he finds the thought of people who believe themselves to be fully good to be rather exasperating and foolish. Do people really believe themselves to be innately good, that they won't act on selfish desires? He's never understood that.

It's not at all uncommon, nor is he any stranger to strong sentiments. Everyone has heard of such a thing before. It's common enough that you often hear advice of obsessive lovers being something to be avoided, meaning that while it's viewed negatively, the frequency of its occurrence indicates that it's not particularly abnormal. One could even argue it's innate in some people, some leftover instinct from more primitive days of the human species. There's plenty of cases of it in media, in the news, accounts you see from people who were subject to such a thing,  and even plenty of cases in folklore. They say the great Sorcerer himself used to be fond enough of a princess to try and kill someone over her, or something like that.

It ties into his own self-perception too, his honesty to himself about his personhood. Someone who would develop such urges and feelings... yeah, he can see that happening to him. At first, it actually doesn't seem to make sense, but the more he thinks about it, the more it does make sense, after a long while of contemplating it almost amusingly, as if he's a third party analyzing someone else, and not himself. It checks out, he supposes. Irksome and inconvenient that that would develop in him, but there's no use trying to fight those kinds of urges when, based on his own observations and accounts of such things, the people who tend to have such tendencies always seem to have it in such a way that is clearly an innate part of their psychology, thus pointless to avoid, and better dealt with by adapting and adjusting. Oh well.

Those sorts of cases frequently end poorly for the individual in question, but those are normal people, with normal levels of control and cunning. By contrast, he knows himself well enough to know he has high restraint and inhibition, so the risk of acting out and drawing attention is near nonexistent, and he's patient and calculated enough that he's fairly certain he can act out the ideas he begins to have without risk of consequence.

Because there would be negative consequence, he's sure of that. The extent and intensity of his emotions is at a point that it could be considered erratic or obsessive, as he already knows full well, and would cause alarm if you or anyone else became aware of it. Even if, say, you were to return the feelings to a normal extent, even if you like him, he still has no doubt that the full intensity of what he is capable of, the malicious and unethical nature of many of the urges themselves, would almost certainly cause you to change your mind. So even if you respond positively, he has to keep that in check.

But acknowledging the potential consequences of acting out of line aside, he's surprisingly very unbothered it, for someone who is coming to the realization that they have feelings and urge for behaviors that go beyond the conventions of normalcy or what is considered "heathy." The latter of which he just rolls his eyes at; he's always been convinced that most people condemning emotions as "unhealthy" are really just trying to get people to conform to social norms -- hey, if he wants to let himself be slowly consumed by resentment over the course of his entire life, that's his business, you know? Same thing applies here. Abiding by the cultural norms and social expectations of a "healthy relationship" and "being ethical" is just a roundabout way of stopping him from doing what he wants and won't get him the results he desires, so no need to even try to listen to such nonsense.

Alongside all of that, he has remarkable persuasion skills, can lie and act very convincingly if needed.  Difficult to catch off-guard, has planned out interactions and alternate paths to take in case one avenue doesn't work out. Always prepared for almost anything that could go wrong. He's patient, cunning, intelligent, perceptive... all traits you do not want in someone with his intentions. He's fairly good at concealing emotions as well -- sure, sometimes a bit of it may slip out here and there, but he's still infinitely better at it than the vast majority of people.

All of this combined — lack of concern for ethics, high self-awareness, fairly high ability to mask his emotions, unhesitating acceptance of the realization of forming an obsession, high intelligence and perceptiveness, great patience, and high impulse control in favor of cunning premeditation — makes him an unusually highly effective obsessive with an almost alarming capacity for harm and success. One of the most unfortunate individuals in the establishment you could end up catching the affections of, in terms of your chances of things ending well for you.

Not that there aren't a few moments where it slips through, just the occasional word or gesture. He's still better than virtually anyone else at concealing emotions, but nonetheless, those emotions are the ones that may just come out, if but for a moment.

You end up missing a few more days of helping him in a row. Friends invited you out to a couple of events. You didn't really think anything of it, at least, not until you come back to your usual routine, on what would have been the fourth day of absence if you hadn't come.

He's already not the most talkative person in the world, but you quickly notice an unusual curtness to his tone. Usually, if you sit down and open with a how was your day?, he'll shrug, say nothing eventful occurred, or make a small mention of something that happened if something eventful did occur.

This time, though, you get a much more brief answer. It was fine.

The tone of his voice is clearly cold, almost passive-aggressive. You tilt your head and ask if something happened, if something's wrong. You get a similarly curt answer.

No.

But as he tends to do with regards to his own behavior, he catches himself, realizes how it comes off. For a brief moment, the realization is actually a bit embarrassing -- he knows getting bitter over such a thing is immature behavior. So he corrects it, shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts, comes up with something about being momentarily distracted and answering on a mental autopilot so as to seem that he was just not paying attention, and asks you to repeat the question, this time forcing out a regular calm demeanor as if not upset.

This, the initial disgruntlement goes more or less unregistered in your memory. You do notice, though, as you continue talking, that he asks more than once about how your week has been -- you answer with a general statement that it's been good and just regular life, nothing out of the ordinary, but apparently that answer isn't quite sufficient.

And what have you been doing these past few days?

He nearly bites his tongue as soon as he says it. That came out a bit more forward and obvious than it sounded in his head. Thankfully, a quick glance upward from his task shows no indication of perturbance on your end, as you merely smile and answer in full, giving a few details of what you've been up to. Hanging out with friends, primarily. He has to refrain from asking specifically whom, seeing as at that point, further questioning on the matter would probably even strike you as oddly intrusive. He'll just have to leave it at that.

Likewise, he'll have to accept you doing whatever you want with your spare time. Any indication that he feels any other way or trying to influence your decision would certainly be noticed, and perceived as strange. It's not like he's entitled to your time... that is, from the perspective of general social consensus. He knows that reasonably, from an objective standpoint, he isn't entitled to that. Even if he might personally feel that way.

He does seem distracted, throughout the rest of the day, has to get you to repeat yourself a few times after seemingly spacing out. But he's always rather busy and under a lot of stress, you have no reason to think anything of it.

He truly does do a good job of concealing his thoughts and feelings. Most obsessive admirers would have long since cracked and shown their true colors by now, as the months go by. His is just tiny little slip-ups, every now and then, much like the first one. Primarily a slight coldness and bitterness to his demeanor whenever you go a significant amount of days without coming by. It only lasts for a few moments before he corrects it, but you do occasionally start to take notice of it. Still, that doesn't seem too out of the ordinary. You're friends, so you can understand he'd be a bit upset, when you think about it, and he's under a lot of stress anyway. Much to his satisfaction, you actually seem to take notice and correct the behavior all on your own, as you gradually stop having significant gaps in days between seeing him, and even on days you aren't coming, you now usually send a message.

There was also that time you stayed in for the day due to feeling sick, and woke up after a long sickness-induced nap to four back-to-back messages, one every hour or so from the time class sessions start, increasingly concerned by your lack of reply. Which is perhaps a bit much, but the messages abruptly stop around noon, as if realizing it was a bit too intense and backing down. But in all fairness, it's only natural to be concerned, so you appreciate it, if anything.

Then there was also the time you had that one guy that kept seeming to try to get close to you for a while, someone you'd worked with in one of your classes once and got along well with. The two of them had never interacted to your knowledge, until you were talking one day and another familiar face came up seemingly out of nowhere. Rather forcefully intruding on the conversation with an uncharacteristic bluntness and coldness, and a near tangible aura of hostility, a glare distinguishable even to you.

Yes, it was definitely too forward, and certainly both the most impulsive act and the largest blunder he's made so far, but it was borderline torture standing there up on the second floor, watching from the window, unable to do anything. He manages to at least somewhat defend himself, and hopefully quell any irritation or confusion you might have had, by telling you later in private that the individual in question is in fact known to be of poor character, manipulative and two-faced, so people say, and was probably intending to take advantage of your kind nature. You seem to accept that, much to his relief, and even express some gratitude. Unfortunately, though, he won't be able to use that excuse again without seeming suspicious, so he just has to hope you don't start to get close to someone with obviously non-platonic intentions again.

Still. It's not as if he can just take the risk, nor does he think that a simple intimidating interaction will deter the other guy entirely. Other measures must be taken.

To you, though, it's just a confirmation that Jamil was right, once the guy gets expelled. Apparently he attacked someone at random, became violent with a group of students and apparently injured one to such an extent that the administration didn't even just give him a strike, but viewed it as grounds for immediate expulsion. You mention it, when you're visiting Jamil as usual later that day, with concern and shock over the incident in your voice as you ask if he heard about it.

He just shrugs. See, told you... ah, but it's not your fault you didn't realize it. Some people are just very good at concealing their true natures, you know? But it's good that you distanced yourself from the guy before anything bad happened to you. You voice your concurrence with that statement.

And yet, after that guy disappears, so does Jamil, at least during those same time blocks. He goes back to not being around during that time, leaving you to find new people to talk to during that time instead. After all, he doesn't want to come across as clingy. Settling for returning to the window position allows for greater scope of observation, anyway.

Jamil engages in a great deal of his fixation from a distance, with you unaware of his presence. He won't necessarily come up and talk to you, but he'll watch you from across a room, from a window looking down on you below, from a shadow a ways away from the crowds and groups you're busy interacting with. He doesn't have to worry about unintentionally being suffocating, this way, while still knowing what you're doing. It's actually a process that often makes him upset, an irritating swelling feeling to his chest, because people like you far more than he would prefer, and now he's forced to watch. Not that he would want people to dislike you either, that would probably hurt your self-esteem and... ah, whatever. It's just irksome to see people gather around you so much. It would be preferable if your presence wasn't treated as something of a spectacle on the campus, but there's nothing he can do about that.

He's even more careful not to make mistakes and show affection than he is careful about negative emotions, but that doesn't mean positive emotions don't also sometimes show as well.

You're far too nice to him, for one thing. You just have to go on these spiels about how much you appreciate his help with various things, or when he thanks you for helping you just have to smile so sweetly and say you enjoy it, that you're glad you get to come by and all... it's one of a few ways to make him genuinely flustered, unable to look you in the eye, all stiff and fidgety as he mumbles something about how it's appreciated, and that you don't have to feel pressured to and whatnot. You have a tendency to say too-nice things that leave him feeling all hot in the face and embarrassed for the rest of the day. Just like the initial feeling of attachment itself, it's almost unpleasant in its own way, and yet, it's addictive.

You still just barely notice the slip-ups, if at all. Those times where he maybe gets just a bit too close, talks to you for a bit too long, seems a little bit too nosy asking what you've done today or prying for details on a conversation you had with someone else -- before he catches himself, correcting the mistake by switching topics or coming up with a reason to leave so as not to linger too long. Can't give you the impression that he wants to stay around you for much longer, can't come off as desperate or vulnerable.

Little things like that. Mostly tiny little mistakes, and besides, he's increasingly even more careful not to make such errors, often getting a bit panicked after each one and becoming stricter in the future. None of it ever crosses the line of what would really catch your attention as something abnormal or something that would induce any concern.

It carries on for some time like that. His self-control allows him to maintain a state of limbo, where he can keep himself in check, not doing anything he shouldn't nor making any move to take anything further, but ensuring you stay close, that you don't drift away. Making sure there are no more issues with people becoming too close to you in ways he doesn't like.

But much to his satisfaction, you seem to grow closer anyway, without him having to take any sort of action to do so. You come by more than ever, and he likes the implications of the fact that you come to see him so often.

He tends to be a bit more open to sharing thoughts and observations normally kept reserved to you, too, as he grows more comfortable talking to you. A bit more openly negative and sardonic. It's not even intentional, really, it happens subconsciously at first. He's just never had an outlet before, and once he does, it becomes such a source of catharsis that one day, after making a slightly negative comment, to which you inquire about the matter, he finds himself starting to perhaps say a bit too much. Unloading all of his frustrations and bottled up negativity. Initially, he catches himself doing it and cuts himself off after a few moments, starting to apologize and saying something about being irritable as he didn't sleep much the night before or something like that.

But you shake your head.

Oh, come on, it's fine. You don't have to pretend around me, you know?

He pauses for a moment... but shrugs, starts to return to voicing the same thoughts. He still won't fully express his feelings, then, but if you're fine with it... it can't hurt to talk about some of his frustrations and complaints. If anything, you seem to find some of the comments amusing, snickering at some of the more sarcastic mutterings. It actually feels quite nice. It's something he hasn't ever really had before, usually having to keep all his negative thoughts to himself. In the end, you end up unwinding too, complaining about this or that. A cathartic session for you both, and you end up sharing a few smiles and laughs over some of each other's accounts and shared annoyances.

It would seem, though, that his efforts to grow closer to you do pay off. It's pleasing. It feels like it's "going somewhere," so to speak, that all the conversations have progressed to being closer and closer; which is, of course, what he would hope for.

Eventually, he figures it can't hurt to try and push for some progress himself. Yes, perhaps he can afford to try and make some small push forward, little by little. He takes the same approach as he does to most matters -- quietly, patiently, avoiding risky, bold, reckless actions in favor of a gradual and calculated plan.

What he decides on doing does require him to take some initiative and ask, although he chose a group event rather than anything you'd be by yourselves for. Just one of the many large dorm-wide social events they have in Scarabia on a regular basis, although this one in particular is supposed to be for something special or another. You agree to it, with a smile at that. It's very reassuring.

Except it turns out that that presents a brand new problem.

Well, part of a larger problem. As he's observed, you've been mingling with different people, forming a friend group during your time on the campus. He would know, he's been watching very carefully and making note of each person, and may or may not have interfered once or twice behind the scenes to prevent you from interacting with individuals he would prefer you not to.

One, however, has not only slipped through any attempts to deter interaction, but apparently has avoided registering on his radar of who you interact with entirely. The only conclusion is that you must have had all your interactions during those times where he can't watch over you. Just perfectly, by the narrowest of margins, managing to grow close to each other, somehow exclusively during those few times he's had his back turned and off fulfilling some other responsibilities, completely unbeknownst to him until this very moment.

Or so he learns, when you arrive, smile when you see him, immediately making your way over to him to talk... until something else catches your attention, something behind him. Your eyes flicker to something just over his shoulder, something he can hear approaching with rapid footsteps and saying your name. Something that quickly swerves around him in favor of lunging at you and grabbing you into an enthusiastic embrace.

...What.

It feels like some sort of cruel joke from a higher power. Like the will of the universe is to spite him. Like being a comedic relief character where the running gag is his constant misfortune. He finds himself standing there, arms limp at his sides, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, eye twitching as he looks back and forth between the two of you.

But... but how did... when did��you... you never mentioned... why...

You're clearly overwhelmed, though, you have that awkward smile where you're clearly uncomfortable but don't say anything to be nice... so after a moment of pause (as soon as he finishes mentally cursing his very existence to whatever force of the universe is listening, that is), he doesn't hesitate to reach out, grab and pull the invasive creature off of you by the shirt collar.

Kalim, you're being suffocating.

Not that those words deter the other boy for even a second. Other than a brief choking sound at sudden jerking motion pulling the front of his clothes against his throat, he immediately recovers, bright-eyed as he gets out an apology, smiling all the while, and continues rambling about something else, until being interrupted.

I didn't realize you two even knew each other.

It takes every ounce of his willpower to force those words out in a way that sounds neutral and curious rather than like he's about to strangle him to death, but he manages. You smile and start to clarify that oh, yes, you have this or that class together and have talked a few times... which just so happens to take place during the longest stretch of the day that he has to go without seeing you, which he frequently worries about. How incredibly coincidental. Haha. Anyway, if you'll excuse him for just one second, he has to go check on something to ensure that the students have everything ready--

--which is actually him walking off to the nearest secluded spot and slamming his fist into the wall with all the force he can muster without breaking his fingers. Takes a deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay. That was cathartic enough to hopefully get him through the night with minimal homicidal urges.

Kalim seems absolutely determined to test that, however. You would think he was the one who invited you here, given the fact that he seems dead-set on monopolizing your time and attention in every conceivable way. He can barely get a word in, can barely say anything to you for a few seconds without getting interrupted. At several points throughout the night you quite literally get dragged away by the wrist to go look at something or participate in something, while he sits there left with nothing to do but seethe over it, trying to distract himself by taking in all the stimulus of the crowded lounge, lest the violent urges start getting the best of him because he's about arm's length away from several very sharp objects on the table and it's starting to get a bit too tempting. By the time midnight rolls around, he's barely gotten to spend any time with you at all. He's pretty sure you've actually been trying to keep coming back and talk to him, but keep getting dragged off and are too nice to say anything about it.

Normally, he's masterful at keeping his outward emotional expressions in check. But for once, he finds himself so deeply upset, such a tight feeling in his chest, that he can't sit there and bear it with a blank face like he normally does with everything else. He ends up having to walk away, quietly slipping away to go walk it off to sulk and seethe alone.

The campus is fairly empty this late, so it's easy to get some fresh air by oneself as he mulls over it. Even though he's by himself, he sighs, has to stop and pinch at and rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. Getting this worked up over a crush, what is he, a grade schooler? It's embarrassing, even if he's the only one who knows. Even having what would be called a "crush" is embarrassing, really, it feels infantile. It seems like something that would be laughable if other people caught onto it. Ugh.

He keeps walking, until he's out of the dorm, slowly moping his way across the campus, long since gone quiet and still due to the lateness of the hour, no one else around. Makes his way over to a bench in an empty campus building.

Finally he gets to just sit down, takes a deep breath in, deep breath out, tries to relax the tension in his shoulders, tries to calm down. Mentally forces himself to clear his thoughts, leaving a blank slate so he can transition to thinking about something else to hopefully take his mind off things, and just allows the first thought that pops up to come to the forefront of his mind. Unfortunately, that thought is:

Which one do you like more?

Dammit. Can't clear his mind after all.

And God, that feels childish. Like how young kids quarrel over who is the best friend of someone else. Just thinking about it feels embarrassing, even if the thought is just to himself.

But it does seem like question that has an answer. After all, when he thinks about it, he can form a pretty solid ranking in his head of acquaintances, and which ones he's more fond of than others. Surely you have the same.

No, that's a stupid question. Obviously it would be him.

...Right?

Yes, it's a ridiculous question because it's obvious. You spend more time with him, you know him far better... it's a foolish question, he shouldn't even be worried.

Still, he can't get rid of the gnawing, unpleasant feeling in his chest, it's eating away at him, driving him up the wall. It takes a while before he can bring himself to go back.

By the time he does so, though, it's fairly late into the night, you're clearly exhausted (no doubt largely due to having your energy essentially siphoned out of you), you speak in that sort of "departure" tone as people do when they're indicating the end of a visit as you say that well, I should be getting back...

Maybe it's the heat of the moment, the lateness of the night drawing out impulsiveness, the possessive irritation and intense emotions, perhaps some need to feel reassurance, some sense of reclaiming something, that emboldens him. Maybe he's still just irked about not having gotten to spend any real time with you. Or maybe his earlier crisis has left him with a desperate need for confirmation. Regardless, for once, his impulse wins over his inhibition, over any self-control. He finds the words coming out without thinking.

It's rather late. You could just stay with me, if you want.

He stiffens as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

It's not as if you're that naive. It would be one thing if he said there was a spare room or something, but directly telling you you can stay in his own room has very obvious implications that he definitely can't excuse his way out of, and he's fairly certain you're definitely not at that point, at least not yet, and his skin crawls at the realization that saying that most likely just ruined any chances of ever reaching that if anything. All that effort, all this time and careful planning, and he may have very well knocked all that down in one sentence.

He starts to try and back out of it, heartrate going up with a moment of panic, opening his mouth and getting out a brief stammering attempt — ah, nevermind, if you don't—

Okay!

There's a few moments of quiet. Blinking at you with a numb expression before seemingly processing your words. You've never seen him undergo quite such a loss of composure within a second, eyes going wide open and stumbling over his words.

I... Well, a... alright. Then, you... I'll, ah, it's over there...

But it's endearing, really. You find yourself smiling while you walk back. He keeps talking about something else entirely, as if to distract you both from any acknowledgement of the exchange that just occurred. At least he manages to successfully distract you into looking at something off in the distance once you reach the room so you don't see the slight tremor to his hands getting the door unlocked and open.

The night lasts a long time. You can still hear the muffled sound of the noise going on outside as the other students continue to do whatever it is they're all doing (some collective game or another, being far too loud), but you manage to talk at least loud enough to hear yourselves over them... and continue to talk... and sit down... and then you lay down... and then you're both side by side... and then your legs brush up against each other... and then there's a few awkward moments of silence...

You do like him quite a bit, so, you're fine with it. He doesn't flinch or pull back when you lean over onto him, doesn't shift when you pull yourself closer, instead wrapping an arm around you. One thing leads to another, as such matters tend to go over. It's awkward at first, of course, like most friend-to-lover situations are -- once the heat of the moment is over, you're left panting and sweaty and you both sort of look up at the same moment and your eyes meet. A few seconds of silence pass. For such a composed person, you've never seen him quite so flustered... but it's cute. You find yourself grinning and giggling and reveling in the ecstasy.

You're happy about it. You get the sense he's happy about it too. You fall asleep pretty quickly, enveloped by warmth.

And he is happy. Truly. It doesn't even feel real.

But he's also very, very worried. Panicked. It begins to set in before he can even properly appreciate the bliss of the moment.

Even if you are willingly with him, even if you love him, that almost makes things worse, because now he has to work with the fact that the social expectation is to increase time with you and that he can be more openly attached, but still have to be careful not to go too far. Not to mention, this makes things more fragile. Riskier. Doesn't it? You're going to be more observant. It will be harder to hide certain behaviors from you. You'll be more careful and critical of what he does as a natural means of protecting yourself, you'll notice any slips of the tongue he might have gotten away with before.

Besides, this part is just one step of many, so he can't afford to relax. He thinks back to that same concept as before, that the social interworkings of all this sort of thing is like a game, a competition. If he lets his guard down and assumes everything is fine now, that just opens the possibility of being caught unprepared if something bad does happen. No, now he has to be even more vigilant and even more protective than before, and more careful of limits.

Nor are said expectations and their limits always clear. Where does the line of acceptable behavior get drawn? Does it not vary from person to person, from one act to the next? He can't afford to find out by trial and error, either, that's too risky.

For a short while, he contemplates if maybe he could get away with just one or two small abnormalities. After all, everyone has flaws, and people expect that partners will have flaws. Can he outright tell you to not interact with a specific person? Is that normal? No, that would definitely be seen as controlling. There's definitely some things he can determine by thinking it through like that, but that doesn't apply to every situation, which is the greatest concern.

And perhaps more importantly, it makes everything feel harder to deal with. It was easier when he had to refrain entirely. Now, it's one of those situations where having a taste of something makes one all that much more weak to craving for it, makes it all that much more alluring than when you had no concept of what the experience was truly like before.

At least his nerves are calmed by the fact that you spend more time in his presence. He doesn't have to deal with intrusive thoughts of concern about what you're doing and if something could be wrong at any given moment.

Perhaps most relieving of all is that other people seem to back off to a greater extent than they already did. You must have told people.

Well, most people. Most people back off, seem to respect him enough to give you two a bit of space while still being friendly towards you both. Don't get too physically close when talking to you, and certainly don't touch you.

Except for one.

The only upside to you being so close to Kalim is that, by extension, you see him more often than you would have just him on his own, as the two are often together. Granted, you're obviously spending more time with him anyway, but now that he's with you more often, that means he gets to witness you two interact, and on the rare occasion you were seeking out Kalim for something, he's usually there too.

You two get along very well. Which he's very frequently forced to bear witness to for the entire duration of your interactions, quietly sitting there with a clenched jaw and fingernails digging into his thighs and the occasional eye twitch that hopefully goes unnoticed. At the same time, that's comforting in its own way, as he can directly witness it rather than have to be psychologically tormented by knowing you two interact but not knowing the details and specifics.

But unlike how Jamil himself would give plenty of space to Kalim and a darling, Kalim does not do the same for him. He's still talkative with you, and touchy too. Far too much for the sake of sanity. He constantly grabs at you, hugs you when he sees you (for several extended seconds, not just for a moment), gets far too close into your personal space when talking. On more than one occasion, he's insisted on trailing along with you two for this or that venture, being an oblivious third wheel — which is made far worse by the fact that you don't seem to mind at all, paying them both equal amounts of attention.

At first, he tries to apply some reason to it. Maybe he thinks it's fine since the two of them are inherently close. Maybe he doesn't realize just how intense he is, or doesn't think he's passing the boundaries of what's considered acceptable. Or...

...And then he realizes that that's giving Kalim's intellect way too much credit. No, it's just how he is, nothing more. He's just outright not thinking about it.

This can become an issue, to say the least. Over time, he does his best to try and avoid you both coming into contact, tries to memorize schedules and give Kalim a wide berth to ensure minimal contact. Nonetheless, of course, it doesn't always work. He finds himself grinding his teeth, stiffening up as he watches you two interact. A person with less self-control would have certainly put the boy in a chokehold at least once by now, but he manages to bite his tongue. Can't just let him have this one thing in peace? Have something to himself? No, of course not, of course he has to be the one to suffer like this... despite the thoughts in his head, he has to be careful not to let that pessimism show in any form of outward bitterness, has to keep a neutral face and mildly exasperated voice at best, pretending any frustration towards the other is due to his high energy and antics and not the fact that just watching you two talk ignites violent instincts he didn't even know he possessed. But there's not much else he can do other than tolerate it.

Besides, it's not as if that's the only person he has to worry about either. Now that you're actually attached to him, he has to ensure that you stay that way, seeing as plenty of people would gladly take his place. But rather than just dealing with others, part of keeping you means making sure you're attached to him.

Unfortunately for you, this does not manifest as exceptional kindness towards you, nor trying to please you, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he could be sweet to you, shower you with affection and attention and gifts and so on... but that is a form of "losing." Making it too obvious that he needs you. There's a chance you'd get bored. After all, why take the "wholesome" way, when that isn't guaranteed? Especially when what is so often deemed the wrong way of doing things, has a guarantee to work. Frankly, that way has a higher success rate, so he sees no reason not to take it.

He has plenty of subtle, conniving means of prying into your mind without you really noticing it's intentional. You, well, you're incredibly easy to manipulate -- and that's a good thing. He likes it that way. Every single trick in the book, you respond perfectly.

It's fairly easy to discern any insecurities you have, some he was already aware of and some that become more evident as you become more emotionally open around him. So he can pick some nice words and compliments that are just a little bit backhanded, have the slightest of implication of a double-meaning shortcoming or insult laden in them, you visibly seem to notice, and sure enough, it's only a matter of time before you express some insecurity over the the thing in question -- and he's right there to assure you that it's entirely fine, or even appreciated... the unspoken implication being that yes, the thing you're insecure about is true, but he likes it. Worded in just the right way so that you won't feel like it's intentional, no, you're sure he had the best of intentions and meant to make you feel good, but it just came out the wrong way, or you're just being too sensitive, or he's just being how guys can be where they're a bit obtuse to how their words might not be as helpful as they intend. He's clearly trying to make you feel happy, right? You appreciate that in its own right.

Besides, it's easy to reassure you with physical affections, too. That becomes another frequent element of your day to day life... he's a fairly restrained person in public, and much prefers being alone and behind closed doors rather than being together while around others. Besides, even if not just for getting to interact more directly with you, being alone in the dorm means being able to relax and unwind... and get out any stress.  Which he has a great deal of -- you can't even begin to imagine the level of stress this boy has pent up, given the hectic nature of his daily life.

He's not particularly "kinky," per se, not really into any particular paraphilias or extreme forms of bondage or use of much tools, so much as he is simply rough. He tends to grab rather hard. Likes holding you down the whole time in some way, restraining some part of you with his own hands, often pinning your forearms down or grabbing the underside of your knees and pressing your thighs against your chest with force. His hand often ends up on your throat. He has a tendency to be rather harsh with it overall, merely rutting into you with animal-like forcefulness, leaving you exhausted and sore... although he at least seems to get flustered about it after the fact, mumbling apologies and getting you water, holding you close and all that.

You do notice some of the more... aggressive elements of the his sexuality, but it doesn't concern you. It's fairly common for someone of his age and sex and all that, and besides, it's normal for people's sexual tendencies to be non-reflective of their character otherwise. You have no reason to think of it as anything worth noting, and no negative thoughts cross your mind, other than the soreness and the tendency for bruising. If anything, the whole "gap moe" between the roughness in the heat of the moment and his usual collectedness versus the sheepishness afterwards is rather cute, really, that that's the one thing that such a normally composed person as himself can get easily embarrassed by. It reaches a point where you're more or less used as some kind of stress toy... but you don't mind at all. It does make you feel loved, which is also a critical part of the intent.

But outside of direct expressions of affection, he ensures he's very subtle in his ways. Being outwardly nosy would just irritate you.

Sure, he wonders what you're looking at whenever you stare at your phone screen, but doesn't fall for the urge to lean over and look, you'd probably find that annoying. He just waits until you go to sleep to look through it, checking the times of certain messages being sent, scrolling through conversations each night until reaching the point of the last time he checked, occasionally taking screenshots and sending them to himself before going back and deleting both the messages on your end and the photos themselves.

Likewise, he doesn't linger around when you're talking on the phone trying to have a private conversation or the like, no, he just quietly gets his own phone out, opens the audio recording app, and leaves it in the room while he goes off to do something else, plays it back later when you're not around. He doesn't ask who certain people are and why you interact with them, instead opting to do some digging on his own time, seeing as there's plenty of online information on nearly everyone, or simply networks his way around into finding out more about a certain person.

All very carefully ensuring you don't perceive any clinginess, any obsessiveness or possessiveness. Nothing that would annoy you or turn you off. He manages to never really appear very bothered or curious about anything, and never exhibits any behavior that would ever lead you to even consider the possibility of what is actually happening in reality. You would never think of him as anything but a very healthy partner — in fact, more so than the average person, he doesn't exhibit any of the controlling or intrusive behaviors you hear people complain about in their own partners. You think of him as an exemplary one.

But nonetheless, every now and then, as time goes on, he starts to just barely get this sense that he's too close to reaching a point where things become unbalanced against him. That whole concept he was worried about, where you might feel like he needs you more than you need him -- and while he's fairly certain that's true, he can't have you sensing it. Yes, he's sure you're starting to get bored, to get complacent, and soon you'll probably want something new and more exciting. The fact that he's essentially surrounded by an ocean of competition doesn't help his nerves. He's practically like some poor animal trying to protect its kill from a horde of other predators that would gladly steal it from him the moment he looks away for so much as a second.

But if he's outwardly worried, insecure about it, comes across as desperate or needy, that will only turn you off to him.

So he takes an entirely different approach.

Suddenly, you find that he seems to be oddly absent. You've developed a habit of walking to certain classes together, but suddenly he stops showing up to the regular spot where you meet up. Disappears and is nowhere to be found during your lunch periods. Doesn't send as many texts. When you do see him, he seems absent-minded or distracted, not spending more than a small amount of time before apologizing and claiming to have something needing to be dealt with before disappearing again. Is suddenly unable to spend the night over, claiming to be busy with something. In truth, he's just gone back to watching you from a distance... but you don't know that, of course. And, although it is greatly difficult on his end, he has to even refrain from being as physically affectionate, often standing, keeping his laptop on his lap while working and so on, so you can't lean onto or embrace as easily, and even more painfully, not being able to spend nights over means having to sleep alone without your affectionate snuggles, and having to just jerk off when he could be inside you instead. Sigh... such painful efforts to go to for the sake of security.

It works perfectly. It becomes clear in no time at all that you're a bit hurt by it, which quickly turns into outright concern and insecurity. You get this sad look on your face whenever he "has to" leave, look at the ground. You start to speak in a softer voice when you ask about doing something together later. And, very much to his satisfaction, you stop talking as much to others even compared to when you spent more time with him, opting to sulk by yourself, presumably in too poor of a mood to socialize.

Eventually -- perhaps a bit disappointed and fed up with waiting, as he was really hoping that you would outright address it and ask about his sudden distance, but oh well, perhaps a bit of a push is necessary -- he seems to "realize" how upset you are one afternoon that he (now a rare occurrence) stays with you throughout the day, and you wrap your arms around him, rest your head on his chest.

Ah, I've been neglecting you, haven't I... I've been so busy, I didn't even notice.

You pout, but you nod.

He puts a hand on top of your head. You always seem to like that. Gives you a sort of warm, endeared smile. Ah. Sorry. I'll be more careful. I hope you can forgive me?

He might feel a little bit guilty, sure, but it's also an incredibly satisfying feeling when you nod again. But not so satisfying as what comes after that stage, when he reverts back to suddenly giving you plenty of attention and affection, even apologizing again for the period of neglect, and seeing how happy it makes you. You seem incredibly relieved and ecstatic, you respond more affectionately than you even did before, and perhaps, he can't help but notice, you seem to be even more clingy and desperate to please, as if afraid of losing the closeness again, now that you've regained it.

Next time, it doesn't take you as long to get desperate. Because of course, there is a next time. It's inevitable that the relief and worry wears off just a bit, and he can detect just the slightest subtraction of affection from you as you begin to drift into a "comfortable" state once again. He doesn't like that state. Sure, you're still affectionate, but not as much as he would like. And your affection lacks the sense of neediness and insecurity and clinginess that gives him a sort of exhilarating, ego-boosting high that the "comfortable" levels of affection just doesn't provide. So inevitably, he has to get a bit distant again, although it never takes quite as long as the first time before you get clingy and desperate and you go through the cycle all over again.

Soon you seem to have a constant subconscious level of fear, he doesn't even have to try and distance himself. You'll ask a questions at random that's just an obvious plea for reassurance. You'll check to affirm that you'll be going through the same routine as always the next day where you spend a certain block of time together, followed by a  quiet 'right?' that's dripping with the perfect level of insecurity. Your grip around him when you're lounging around and resting against him is always tighter than it was at the very beginning. You're touchier altogether, often leaning and embracing and nuzzling, whereas in the "comfortable" state you might have been on the other side of the room doing your own thing or the like. You start performing little gestures of affection more often. Whenever you're alone at night in one dorm or the other (increasingly often his, as he's more or less convinced you to spend most nights in a dorm that doesn't have ceiling leaks and enough dust to fill a lung), you tend to be more provocative, and not at all subtly, opting to walk around in underwear and having completely ditched those pajamas you were provided with by the administration when you first arrived. You initiate more often, too, oftentimes just randomly latching on and climbing onto his lap and rolling your hips forward, latching your mouth onto his. You wrap your legs around his waist when you're on your back, rather than just having them spread apart, you latch your arms around him and pull him so close your bodies are pressed together, the noises that come out of your throat sound so much more desperate and needy than before.

A back-and-forth, push-and-pull -- the push that puts distance between you just makes you all that much easier to pull back in, and reaps great rewards from you when he finally does.

It's euphoric. It's perfect. It feels like complete and total control. You're so desperate. Whenever you're clinging and pressed up to him afterwards, he often has to pull your head close up against his chest so you don't see his expression. He knows full well there's a sinister sort of glee to the grin on his face, but for once, even he can't refrain.

Well, it's almost perfect. Everything with you is perfect, but there are obstacles that remain preventing everything from being perfect. And at this point, they might as well be dealt with.

Despite all your clinginess and the effectiveness, there are still assigned times for classes and extracurricular responsibilities (which he temporarily thought about abandoning, but that would come off as a bit too needy) that require you to be apart. And during that time, as he's learned from having "accidentally" put his phone in your bag and recording the whole time a few times, he knows what you're doing. Identifies the voices of those you talk to, and can't help but notice that not only are they the same people consistently, but there's one in particular that makes those violent urges flare up again. Hell, he snapped a pencil in half by accident just while listening to the playback.

No matter. He'll just have to resort to his Plan B. It wasn't his first choice, seeing as there are potential complications, but he has no real reservations. He can't put a rift between you and Kalim, unfortunately, as that would likely just become problematic for himself later down the road... he'll have to work with just keeping you two apart, whenever he can't be right there. That's the only real way to deal with that problem.

Besides, he's only a genuine issue during one specific time slot. The schedules of various students aren't always consistent day to day. Some lectures are longer, labs tend to be shorter, so on and so on, people have different time gaps, some students even eat lunch at different times depending on the day of the week.

You have one particular gap of time where you have no classes, but he does. It's not too big of a deal, seeing as you usually just go over to the Scarabia dorm these days and talk to some of the others anyway... but therein lies the issue for him.

On one of those days, you're a few minutes later than usual, as he left his pen sitting on the desk in the last class, and you went back with him just to keep talking, opting to take the extra minute or so to stay together, as it wouldn't be more than a minute or two delay. With the majority of the throng of students already rushed to their next destination, the halls are empty as you reach the spot where you usually part ways until meeting up again later in the day. But as you say something about seeing him later—

Oh, before you go, one more thing.

You pause. You turn your head back around to look at him.

Hm?

...You jolt at the sudden commotion, snapping out of a daze. That big clocktower bell ringing off in the distance at the middle of the campus, followed by the loud sounds of dozens of students' chattering and footsteps as they head on to another class.

Oh, the period is already over.

...Wait, what...?

Your head throbs. You feel dizzy, disoriented. For a brief moment, your surroundings seem to spin around you, until you shake your head in an attempt to clear it, and the feeling seems to go away. But you're not in the spot you were in what seems seconds ago, instead sitting down at a desk. There's a tingly, fuzzy feeling in your head.

Oh, right. You opted to take some time for yourself this time around in an empty classroom because—

...because...?

Right. The book on the desk is open. You were studying. You seem to recall some of the information retained, even if you were sort of spaced out for the duration of the studying itself, everything for the last little while feels like a blur. Was there a test or something coming up? There isn't one today, but you must have remembered to study for a reason. Your mind was preoccupied, one of those moments where you realize you've been spacing out for a long time, so lost in thought that you don't really remember the words your eyes have been scanning over, nor your own actions.

More importantly, you remember talking just before you were about to head off, Jamil was going to tell you something important, but admittedly, you can't remember what he said. You feel sort of bad about it. You just hope it wasn't something too important, like something you were supposed to go pick up or something like that... you're sure to ask later, and apologize for spacing out while you're at it. But it must have been no big deal, based on his own words.

Tell you the truth, I don't recall either... ah, it's been a long day. I'm sure it wasn't important.

You end up making a habit of it. You find yourself ending up in the same spot on that day each week, like clockwork, without even thinking about it. You're pretty sure you gravitate towards doing so out of a need for a brief rest to rejuvenate your energy for the day.

...But it does feel strange. The first time, you dismissed it as just spacing out, and the second time as well, but you keep noticing you follow the pattern without intending to. On the third week, you very specifically told yourself you wouldn't be sitting out today like you had the past two weeks, since you felt plenty energetic and missed talking to Kalim and the others you usually spend that time with... yet found yourself ending up there anyway. Your head always feels fuzzy when you seem to recuperate your energy and alertness. You mentioned it to Jamil once, and he merely told you to just stay consciously aware and not drift off into thought right before that time period... and it did work, at least that one following week. Then it went right back to the other habit, and from then on, you find yourself alternating, sometimes going to be with friends, but quite often ending up by yourself, completely lost in a blank state of mind. You feel dizzy, disoriented. Each time, it feels like there's some sort of gap in your consciousness, like waking up from a dream.

It's not the only sudden onset of odd occurrences, either.

The first occasion of the other occurrence leaves you entirely bewildered. You did notice that one of your friends seemed to avoid you for a few days in a row, but you figured he was just busy, so you're caught off-guard when he comes up to you looking down, apologetic expression on his face.

Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for the other day... I don't know what I did, but I'm really sorry if I upset you...

You find yourself in a confused stupor for a few moments, unsure of what is even being addressed. After a moment, your following questioning prompts the boy to elaborate on how you exploded out of nowhere... I figured you must have been really mad at me for something... followed by a brief recollection of some choice unkind things you apparently came up to him to say out of the blue, and another apology. You stammer something about how it was fine, you don't even remember any of that, you're not mad at all... you must have been mentally preoccupied and just blurted out something without thinking, or so is the best explanation you can conjure.

You don't think too much of it, though, until virtually the exact same thing happens again. Another person coming up to you, asking if they did something wrong followed by a claim that you released some sudden angry outburst seemingly at random and didn't provide explanation. You try to reassure them of the same thing as you told the first, making note to yourself to be more consciously aware of yourself. The only thing you can really think of that makes any sense would be your initial conclusion... or, perhaps, it does strike you for a brief moment that they're just messing with you, but the sincerity and slight hurt in their faces and voices makes you second-guess that idea. You must have actually said those things and had such outbursts, even if you don't recall, seeing as multiple people are making the same claims.

It doesn't take long for the matter to get worse. Soon, you find that when you come up to the same friends, smiling as you approach to initiate conversation, they merely narrow their eyes, huff and glare, turn the other way, sometimes walk off. You must have done something to upset them, or perhaps they're still upset about the outburst you apparently had...? You try to ask, but you get nothing but glares, harsh words telling you to just leave me alone or similar dismissals. To make matters worse, you're questioned by others as well -- what did they do to deserve that?, but everyone seems to think you should know what you did, and never elaborate.

You're bewildered. It feels like being an outside observer to some sort of mass delusion. You have absolutely no recall of doing anything that would upset anyone.

You even considered the notion of it being some sort of large-scale prank wherein you'd later be told they were all just kidding and trying to confuse you, but as time passes it becomes clear it was serious. That being said, you know you didn't do anything, your mind can only think of a few other possibilities. Why would people lie to you?

It's as confusing as it is hurtful. You didn't actually do anything to anyone to deserve this... the fact that multiple people would be needlessly cruel for no reason feels unfair and painful, although you suppose it's not at all unheard of, school environments are known to generate some of the worst people. You hope it will pass.

At least you still have some solace. Yes, really, the timing was at least as good as it could have been, seeing as now, you have someone you know will believe you and think the best of you no matter what, and will give you the comfort and reassurance you need. After some prompting about how downtrodden and melancholy you seem, you do finally open up about it.

Jamil doesn't seem particularly concerned about the matter, though. He shrugs it off, dismisses your concerns, although you do sense that he's trying to make you feel better. He dismisses the idea of it being some sort of conspired ordeal, says that's just being paranoid, but the alternative he suggests does seem helpful -- that you did indeed do what you were told you did, but with reason.

Perhaps you're under excessive stress. That would put anyone in a poor mood, and you may be too preoccupied to really recall the occurrence... or, it's likely that those individuals draw negative emotions out of you. You shouldn't spend time around people that make you feel poorly.

And then, after a pause, he adds,

Besides, you've never been anything less than kind towards me. That would suggest others are the issue, not yourself.

You appreciate the input, but the situation still certainly bothers you. It's not only your friends, either, that start to behave unfairly and even cruelly towards you. You would not have thought yourself to be someone who would be targeted for any malice, as you've tried to be nice and considerate and have never done anything you can recall that would have made you an enemy to random people.

You're completely caught off-guard, then, when some people seem to begin treating you as such at complete random. People you don't know very well, or have even never interacted with. You were sitting in a classroom when someone walked in, grabbed your things and ran off with them before you could take it back out of their grasp. And then, within days of that incident, someone comes out from the shadow of the side hall as you're walking, shoves you so hard you fall face-first to the ground, and runs off before you can identify them. Then, you leave your bag sitting down for a few minutes during a break, only to find someone, be it out of malice or carelessness, must have hit your bag with some heavy object, seeing as the laptop the school provided you with is smashed, forcing you to get a new one after profusely apologizing. It gets worse and worse, people coming up to you just for some cruel act or another, and now you don't even have friends to defend you... they only seem to bother you when Jamil isn't around either. You imagine that's because they know better than to provoke him, maybe.

You stay quiet about it for a while. Wouldn't want to burden him with such a thing, and you hope that it will pass... even at prompting, you merely mumble that you're fine, that you're just tired, that nothing is wrong. To say you're being bullied or anything of the sort would feel childish. It's just people being jerks, surely they'll move on and mess with someone else. Telling him would just upset him for your sake, and then you'd feel like you were overreacting, blowing it out of proportion. It's just rudeness that everyone will deal with from someone at some point. You're not even sure who a lot of them are, though... it's almost always, for whatever reason, students you're pretty sure you've never even interacted with, as if intentionally doing so in order to ensure you won't know their names or faces and can't confront them or report them.

Although it gets harder to handle, the longer it goes on. Getting tripped, shoved around, stolen from, even a few times getting things thrown at you... you find yourself becoming quieter, increasingly tired and depressed. It wears you down, emotionally and psychologically. You're always paranoid someone will come up to you and do something. You start to shut yourself in. You take longer to reply to the friends you have left. You start leaving earlier, when you usually hang out with them... even then, several of your friends no longer seem to want to hang around you anyway. It hurts.

And eventually, it becomes too much for you to keep trying.

It's almost startling when Jamil comes back to his own dorm room one day, for you to already be there. He's usually the first one back, while you spend an indefinite amount of time with friends and never come back at a consistent time, so he's caught off-guard to find you already back in the room. Curled up in bed, chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths. Your eyes seem a bit puffy, swollen, the flesh around your eyes reddened.

Poor thing. Yes, he did account for the fact that you'd inevitably get your feelings hurt from the acts, and when you started finding yourself all alone, but he does still feel bad, seeing you so upset. In fact, the realization that someone else caused this -- because it was, after all, someone else who actually committed the cruel acts, who did mean things to you, and thereby they are the ones responsible -- he has to swallow the subsequent feeling of sudden rage down. It's a necessary consequence.

The guilt doesn't last for too long. He climbs into bed over you, lays by your side, wraps an arm around you... he's not sure if it's a subconscious action in your sleep, or if you stir for just a moment, but regardless, you suddenly grunt as you turn over to face him instead, instinctively snuggling up close to the warmth, nuzzling your face against his chest. Your hands latch onto his undershirt, fingers curling to secure their place before you return to the soft little breaths, lulled back to deep sleep by the steady heartbeat against your face.

When you wake up, he's sure you'll be at a breaking point, you'll finally break down and talk about how mean and cruel people have been to you lately... and then he can assure you that it'll all be fine, leave for a while and come back, tell you they won't be bothering you anymore because he took care of it, but you should probably not go off on your own again anyway... yes, that will work. That should go over very smoothly, given all the steps that have been taken to ensure it.

And then... that will be everything. All the little obstacles, all either out of the way entirely, or well within the realm of being manageable.

Yes, with that, that momentary, miniscule guilt dissipates, replaced by a swelling, euphoric feeling of satisfaction and smug pride. Everything worked out exactly as it should. He runs his hand over the back of your head in slow, soft motions.

If it all really is some sort of social game, then this must be what it feels like to have won. He couldn't be happier with that outcome.

[inkdemonapologist]

wdym by malice's writing being incoherent

NOTHING IN THIS SCENE MAKES SENSE! Malice sweetie i love u but what r u doin

Why does she have an electric chair party. If her goal is to take apart Audrey on the operating table because she’s A Unique Specimen That Will Finally Make Her Perfect why is she exclusively using death methods guaranteed to damage A Lot of the body when she originally had access to a passed out Audrey?? Why does she want to do a riddle? Why is she angry when you solve the riddle? Like she specifically tells you at the start “yeah, I want to take you apart and use your insides as beauty products, but first we’ll do a little riddle and we can do that other stuff later” so why does she say you’ve “humiliated” her later? You didn’t cheat, she didn’t make the puzzle unsolvable, you just literally did exactly the thing she told you to do.

For the record, Malice is also kinda incoherent in BatIM, but her screaming rage as the elevator falls feels more like her Real Feelings Finally Showing after being mockingly sweet to Henry thus far, while in BatDR she hasn’t really been keeping her cards close to the chest or pretending to be helpful, so it just kind of feels like “and then she loses it and starts screaming, because she’s crazy, of course” logic. Why does Malice have a bunch of loyal lost ones who dutifully repeat their riddle clues with zero additions? Like, this is a tangent, but wouldn’t it be creepier if they were obviously under duress when you speak to them? Why is the logic puzzle not bendy or angel themed in any way, like it was lifted out of a Book O’ Logic Puzzles directly and not even reskinned? WHY ARE THERE BUTTONS THEMED FOR IT, set up in wilson’s retreat????????? how often does Malice run this thing? Malice getting Henry to do her chores at least makes a little sense in that he’s doing things she didn’t particularly want to do herself (tho I agree with Mochi’s suggestion that it would’ve felt less arbitrary if it were made very clear afterwards that you had helped her get everything she needed to do her Boris Experiment), but what does she get out of this? If she’s enjoying making people squirm then there’s a distinct lack of squirming going on!!! Girl go back to unethical experiments that you’re in control of, that’s way more effective!! Her hint of a motive – Audrey is unique, the One That Came Out Right, and might be the key to Malice finally getting the perfection she craves – is ACTUALLY REALLY INTERESTING and works well with the story and plays into everything that’s going on with Audrey discovering her past, and for incomprehensible reasons it’s just kind of not really driving Malice’s actions here?

Anyway, this fun but baffling scene aside, the original reason I felt like Malice was sort of oddly written was the note you find from her:

This is actually pretty compelling. Malice has always seemed Vanity Obsessed and to give her a reason that’s not just “i want to be pretty” but “so many doors are closed to me unless I’m gorgeous, so if I could Just Be Beautiful I could have the things I want most!” is a great insight… into a character who is not in Malice’s situation. You could roll with this – framing it as these feelings being left over from when she was human, and she’s not coherent enough now to logically think through the fact that “doors will open for you if you’re gorgeous” no longer applies to her in Ink Hell. But was that ever Susie’s motivation…? She just wanted to Be Alice. And you could so easily get to her Perfection Obsession through that – I really like the repeated “angels are beautiful” because it gets the closest to that idea, that she’s desperate to fix the dysphoria of Not Really Being Alice Angel, the thing she sacrificed everything for, and she’ll sacrifice and sacrifice until she has it again.

So, this all just feels like….. Like, the way Malice IS is great. She’s great. Her delivery is fun and of course we’re all thrilled about “honey”. But her actions don’t make much sense, and the reasoning and motivation we’re given feels less like “here’s what’s really going on in this character’s head, here’s what’s motivating her” and more like “here’s a motivation that could explain why someone wants to be beautiful so bad”. It’s kind of generic rather than growing out of Malice’s particular feelings and history; it’s just to the left – and overall, this whole thing kinda feels like they did their best to create some scenario to replicate Malice’s vibes from BatIM, rather than really trying to understand her character and what this situation would drive her to do. Unlike BatIM (where she just wanted your buddy), in this game she wants YOU, and it’s a shame they didn’t lean into that more!!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Roses for the Knuckles

in which Hunter doesn't always listen

cw: referenced violence, adult language, implied abuse

previous /// masterlist /// next

×~×~×

“You'll each get one hour. Nowhere near enough time for anything real, but it should serve its purpose.”

Everyone was in the room with the mats, where they should've been running through their morning training. Obstacle courses or fighting or some shit, but instead of doing what they were supposed to, Sahota was following muscle girl's dumb idea.

Hunter knew what its 'purpose' was. Proving them all wrong, demonstrating that he was better than them for the hundredth time. Why was he even gonna bother? Why not just tell them no and be done with it? Why not just do what Vic wanted?

He didn't know what the big deal was anyway. Muscle girl had been in the army or some shit, so hadn't she already killed people? And fucking Manak didn't seem like he gave a shit about anyone else, so why did he care? Hunter didn't care. It wasn't like he knew Finley anyway, and he could just forget about the whole matter after she was dead and they had what they wanted.

If he would’ve told Vic about this last night during their training session, maybe he could’ve put a stop to this bullshit, but the ancient law of snitches get stitches kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t that big a deal anyway. Just a waste of time.

Hunter slouched as Sahota droned on and on about the rules, body and face rigid as he addressed the group. Like a fucking statue.

“I want each of you to come up with some arbitrary information that you want from me, and then I want you to try to extract it. You are permitted to do anything, so long as I can recover from it by tomorrow.”

Whatever that meant. It had been two days since he'd got his face beat in, and he already seemed just fine.

Muscle girl raised her hand. “What's the point?”

“I’ve been in the business for a while,” Sahota replied. “I know a good technique when I see one. If you manage to impress me, you win. I'll let you do it your way.” He thumbed at the scabbed-over cut running through his lip. “But don’t count on it.”

Some of the rest threw in their own questions, but Hunter tuned them out, pinching the skin of a knuckle between two fingernails until flowers started blooming there. No one would want to hear his side of the argument, his ‘we should listen to Vic, not Sahota’. If they didn't hate him already, he'd bet they definitely hated him after the video, after he was the only one who didn't want to go save their asshole trainer. But he'd been right, Vic had been right. Sahota got back just fine, not the slightest shift in his stupid slate-gray color unless you counted the bruises on his face.

He was right, but it seemed like no one wanted to look at him anymore. Not that they had in the first place, but it seemed more on-purpose now. Manak had been just as icy as ever when they'd worked together on the list, a task mostly completed in bitter silence. Hunter hadn't helped much, just kinda leaned back in his chair and looked for new patterns, distracting himself from the red ribbon of irritation that started coiling around the other man as soon as Sahota told them to work together.

And whatever, he didn't care. He didn't need Manak to like him, or Sahota, or muscle girl, or even… even the big guy. No, he didn't need them, not when he had Vic on his side, not when Vic wanted him to stay.

“Cavan, why don't you start us off?” Sahota said, and muscle girl straightened, her neutral blue brightening.

Cavan. Cavan, Cavan, Cavan, he’d try to remember it, but sometimes names were hard.

“I want the rest of you training. Spar for the first hour, then branch off into individual skills.” He gave Cavan a curt nod, and she followed him out, leaving a fading trail of blue behind. Hunter couldn’t tell if she was excited or nervous, and didn’t really care.

Beside him, the big guy let out a heavy sigh. “So… sparring?”

“Dibs on Jericho,” makeup guy said quickly, sidestepping towards the big guy and slipping an arm through the crook of his elbow.

Jericho, Jericho.

That left him with Manak. Whatever. Smug little richboy wasn’t that great with his fists, and Hunter wouldn’t mind breaking his stupid snobby nose. The big guy—Jericho—seemed to catch a whiff of Hunter’s plan though, a brighter flash that was probably alarm arcing through his purple.

“Actually, I think I’ll fight Harbor,” he said, shaking himself free of makeup guy, who put on a pouty expression. Hunter scowled up at him, squaring his shoulders.

“Yeah? What if I don’t wanna fight you?” he challenged, scanning the big guy’s—Jericho, it’s Jericho, fucking dumbass—silhouette for a shift in his color. The purple didn’t change.

“Do you not want to?” A little smile crossed his face. “You’re pretty good. I just want to see what you’ve got.”

Hunter scrunched his nose. He was good, but he knew what was really happening. Just the b–Jericho trying to save Manak’s ass. Whatever. Whatever, a fight was a fight. Training was training and he didn't need to be liked. He didn't need to be chosen for him, not by them.

“Fine.” He lifted his fists. Roses for the knuckles. “Fight me.”

~~~

The first hour went fast. Sparring always went fast, at least for Hunter. Maybe ‘cause it was something he was actually good at. Muscle girl (Cavan) came strolling back in near the end of the matches, and makeup guy (Benny?) took her place. From the dull in her blue, Hunter guessed she hadn't been successful. He coulda told her that.

Jericho spent the next hour looking over the folder with her and Manak, so Hunter spent his time wandering and practicing with patterns.

Find a pen, find a tool, find one of those screws that has an X on top, until makeup guy came back and Manak replaced him and his head was pounding.

He ignored the oncoming migraine.

I want you to come back after.

The next hour passed, the headache dug blunt teeth into his skull, and then it was Hunter's turn.

~~~

Sahota was sitting comfy when he entered, bound in place by ropes that wound around his wrists and the arms of the chair he was planted in. No sign of any blooming colors in his slate-gray, no hint of an expression on his bruise-mottled face.

Like an oil slick, he thought. Guess it's your turn to wear it.

The three who'd gone before him hadn't done shit by the looks of it. If anything, Sahota looked bored. Hunter could change that.

“So what,” he said, lingering in the doorway with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “Do I just start?”

“What information are you pretending to be after?” Sahota asked, hardly shifting in his seat. Hunter wished he'd slouch, or sneeze, or yawn, or do something a normal human would do. 

“I dunno,” he said, eyes darting away from the stiff slate shape of him, looking for anything shinier. “Your birthday or whatever.”

“Creative bunch.”

Hunter scowled, pulling his hands from his pockets and pinching a fresh cut that cracked through the back of his hand like a line in a broken plate. A little shower of rose petals started pouring from it in reply. “Can I hit you?”

“Do it.” Sahota rolled his neck, shrugging his shoulders like he was prepping himself for the first blow. “Is that your plan for Finley?”

“I don't have a plan for Finley,” Hunter said. “I didn’t ask to do this. You can just kill her for all I care.” That's what Vic had said to do. Why was Sahota of all people trying something different? He was in the spy shit too, shouldn’t he know better? Didn't he want to follow Vic?

The trainer’s gray sat plain and stony as Hunter talked, not the slightest flash of surprise, or approval, or even just being pissed off that he didn’t want to play along popping up.

“Are you going to participate?” he asked in a flat voice. “Or should I have you send for Davis?”

He'd like that, wouldn't he? Hunter leaving, giving up, going away. What would he think, if he knew that Vic wanted him here, if he knew that maybe, maybe Vic liked him better?

“I’ll play the stupid game,” Hunter said, rubbing his knuckles. “Just wanted you to know that it’s stupid.” A pattern had begun to swirl around them, starting out small and starry and distorting into silvery splatters. They might’ve been a warning, but Hunter didn’t know for what. That Sahota would get pissed and try to beat him up? That he’d try and kick him off the team? Fat chance, not when Vic was here to say otherwise.

“What’s your birthday?” he muttered. Sahota replied with a silent stare, his stupid gray color unchanging, his stupid expression stony and blank. Fuckin' statue.

Hunter hit him. Not hard, or anything. A little backhanded stroke across the face that didn't draw the slightest ripple through Sahota's gray. The back of his hand stung with the blow. Roses.

Sahota planted the even stare on him again, like he was challenging him, saying, ‘is that all you got?’

Hunter’s upper lip pulled back into a snarl. “When’s your birthday?” he said again, practically spitting the words out. The splattering silver whirled around him like a tornado. He tried not to look at it. He didn’t need his headache getting any worse.

Sahota still didn’t answer, so Hunter popped him across the other cheek.

“Do you really think this will get you anywhere?”

“You think I’d fucking know that?” Hunter snapped. “I’m not a psycho like you. I never tortured anyone.”

That seemed to have an effect, the gray getting a few shades darker in the middle of Sahota’s chest. Hunter’s mouth tipped up in a grin.

“S’wrong?” he said, circling the chair in an unhurried stride. “Don't like being called out on it?”

But just as fast, the gray was gone, and Sahota was quiet again. Of fucking course.

“When's your birthday?” Hunter said, this time leaning over the trainer's shoulder to hiss it into his ear.

“You’re sloppy,” Sahota replied, not seeming to care when Hunter popped him in the jaw. Barely even a grimace.

Sloppy. Just like he'd said when they fought the first time. Well who was the one getting hit? Sahota was sloppy, for letting the rest of the team have their way when an easier solution was right in front of them.

“When's your birthday?”

“Is that all you have to say? Does your entire plan revolve around asking the same question on repeat?”

“I told you, I don't have a fucking plan,” Hunter snapped, hitting him a little harder than he'd meant to. Closed fist tangling with the bruises on his cheek, reopening the cut that cracked his knuckles, rose petals.

That got a little gasp from Sahota. A blinking wince that made Hunter hesitate, his fist dropping to swing at his side.

I'm sorry. He wasn't. Sahota asked to do this, Sahota said he could hit him. He could take punches, they could both take punches, it was no big deal.

“I want to listen to Vic,” he said in a small voice. “I want to just… just kill her. If that's the easy way.”

Sahota's eyes narrowed. “You've never killed anyone.”

“Don't pretend you know me,” Hunter said, his voice rising again. “You don't know shit.”

He had, probably. He'd never actually watched them die, but he'd been in enough gunfights and brawls and shit that he'd probably killed someone. “I don't care, anyway,” he said, taking a half step backwards. The silver-spatter pattern swirled faster now, dizzy and bright. “Vic knows best, so if he says that's what we should do…”

“Vic doesn't always know best,” Sahota said. “Not for you.”

There it was. Hunter scowled, scanning the trainer's shape, seeing no sign of the jealous black cracks that had come crawling out of his throat before. Not like that meant shit. Maybe they weren't jealousy. He didn't know fuckall about what they could be because he didn't know fuckall about Sahota.

“What do you know about what's best?” he grumbled. Maybe he should've gone to Vic about this bright idea after all. Maybe this had all been a ploy to trick Hunter into going against Vic’s idea, to highlight him as a problem, to make him another outsider.

“I know this isn't the life you want," Sahota replied. "Finish this job and get out, or you'll end up wishing you had.”

Had Vic told him about the plan? About letting him stay? Was he just spouting this bullshit because he couldn't stand the thought of Hunter sticking around?

“You don't know what I want,” Hunter spat. “There’s nothing else for me. There's nothing else to want.”

Sahota grimaced. His gray was starting to darken at the center again, spreading like black clouds. “Harbor—”

“You want me to get out?” Hunter cut him off. “Fucking fine, I'll get out. Already said this was stupid.”

The green, the burning of chlorine in his nose hit him before he could turn around. Vic.

“Done already?” the handler asked in a voice that was danger-quiet. Like if Hunter answered wrong there'd be trouble. He'd heard it before. With teachers at school, with his dad at home, with Rex and the syndicate. 

He froze. Sometimes the best answer was silence.

“I heard you're running them through an impromptu training exercise, Sahota,” Vic said, and Hunter realized the tone wasn't for him. He felt the tension seep away from his shoulders; vines unwinding and hanging there like deadweight limbs.

“Quite an interesting lesson plan today.”

“It's a demonstration, sir.” Sahota’s eyes dropped. “Proof that interrogation doesn't work the way they think.”

“Oh? Do you not think my word is proof enough for them?”

“I didn't mean that.”

Vic clicked his tongue. “I was under the impression that today's training was meant to be a little more standardized. Was that a lie?”

“No, I… it seemed like something too small to bother you with. Once they failed, we'd move on. Nothing would change.”

“So you'd rather keep it from me.”

“No, sir.”

Vic let out a little hm, letting silence sit prickly in the room for what was probably a full minute before he spoke again. “I do apologize for interrupting.”

Sahota didn't lift his gaze. Or even say anything.

“It's fine,” Hunter put in. “This is a waste of time anyway. Right? We should just—”

“No no, it's not my place to swoop in and change the curriculum for the day,” Vic said, letting out a small sigh. “I'm sure it's exactly as beneficial as you say, Sahota.”

Hunter didn't know why the change in his tone wasn't letting him relax, why the splatters in the air were turning razored at the edges, why some anxious color was starting to squeeze him again.

“In fact, why don't I watch the rest of the lesson? It's interrogation, right? You're letting them ask you questions?”

“Yes, sir,” Sahota said in a flat voice. 

“Wonderful. Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Carry on.”

Hunter shook his hands loose, nervous energy bundling up in his fingers, tiny vines tangling between them like thread. Sticky and annoying. Vic wanted to watch? But what if he fucked it up? What if he wasn't good enough? 

“When's your birthday?” he asked, his tone emptier than it had been before. Sahota didn't answer, just like before. Hunter hit him, not like before. This time he was careful to aim for even, unbruised color, to pull back on the blow.

He turned back to face Vic, feet shuffling him away from the man in the chair. “That's what I've been doing, Vi—sir. Pretty much just that.” Nothing to see here, no reason to watch, to find faults.

Vic chuckled. “And this is your idea of an interrogation?”

Hunter shrugged, letting out a quiet, “guess so.” Vic couldn't blame him for being bad at it, right? He'd never done this before, so it wasn't his fault, right? All he had to go off of was movies and the bloodied remains of Rex’s discarded rivals, and at the time he was too busy hoping it would never be him dead on the cement to memorize the fucking injuries.

“Here.” His handler stood, laying a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him so he was standing in front of Sahota again.

Silent, stony, Sahota.

“Let me help you out.” Vic pressed something into his hand. Cold metal, warmed by fingerprints. He didn't want to glance down, but it was from Vic, so he made himself look, eyes confirming the shape that he held. Brass knuckles.

A thought sped through his mind as he looked at them, wondering whether Vic just always had the weapon with him, or if he'd packed it for the occasion, if he knew this would be the outcome before he'd even stepped into the room.

“Try them on.”

Metal slipped past his fingertips to circle his knuckles, the shiny brown quickly choked out by dull green vines. Vic patted him on the shoulder.

“Looks good on you.”

Something pleasant zipped through Hunter at the words, but it felt wrong, out of place

“Go on, Hunter. Hit him again. And this time, don't hold back.” Vic squeezed his shoulder. “Let's show you what a real interrogation can look like.”

Hunter clenched his fist around the metal that enclosed them, letting it pinch the skin on the inside of his fingers. Hit him again, hit him with a weapon, hurt him, why did Vic want him to hurt him? Weren't he and Sahota partners?

“Vic…”

“What are you waiting for?” The handler leaned in, hands on his shoulders, lips on his ear. “Show me you can handle this much. Show me you belong here.”

Hunter tried to steady himself with an inhale, but the chlorine smell was choking him and the room was all dizzy from the spinning silver. He kept upright, locking his gaze on the man in the chair who sat stiff-backed. Unflinching.

He didn't want to hit him, he didn't want to hit him again, he hadn't even wanted to watch him get hit on the video two days ago but it was what Vic wanted.

The black cracks were back, branching out from the pit of Sahota's throat as they met eyes, and Hunter knew then that it wasn't hatred. It wasn't annoyance, or even jealousy.

It was fear.

~~~

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: Nanika's powers

hi theory time

what if the cost of every wish granted (healing aside) is nanika peeking into alternate universes and selecting alternate futures that they are swapping into the present universe.

yes this is crazy but hear me out

they establish a cost that's unknown why or how it's chosen. with disobedience at a level 1 request line, only two people die.

we dont know what level Yasuha's request was (the wish for a million dollars) but the resulting cost was Kasuga and by their estimate 68 or more other casualties.

we know *how* those casualties are chosen, it's by the amount of time the victim has spent with those people.

but why were there 68 or more deaths for the wish of teleporting a blimp?

my theory is that nanika is peeking into alternate dimensions and calculating how many changes need to happen to make that reality happen in the reality that they're in.

they aren't dimension hopping, but they're borrowing the number of people that it took to move that blimp off course, the number of people involved in that decision, and then the number of people it took to loosen the vault and let the money pour out of the back.

which, in this case, would be 68 people exactly.

and we know that nen is capable of dimension hopping or seeing into alternate timelines. tserreidnich you bastard im looking directly at you.

now i think the wisher does also matter. because the wisher can be incredibly skilled and wish for something that they could do themselves, but others would struggle with.

so like say, a thief could wish for nanika to bring them a jewel and the resulting cost would be two lives (the lowest cost). but a normal man wishing for the same thing would cost fifteen lives.

which is why when milluki wishes for alluka to kill someone for him, its 13 lives, even though the target was so far away (presumably). that's because it would have been really easy for milluki to kill that person.

nanika is all powerful, we know this. it can teleport anything, heal anything and kill anything it's asked to. but how it determines cost is arbitrary as far as we can tell. all we know is 'hey this wish was big, the cost is gonna kill a lot of people'.

and we don't have enough examples of its price gauging because we know so little about the wishes it has granted.

milluki's computer wish seemed like a small cost, because what nanika demanded of tsubone was nonlethal. if it was material goods, something that probably cost the same as the amount of money the blimp dropped, the cost should have been the same.

but it wasn't.

this is a certified nen nerd post.

i think nanika is fascinating and i wish i had the energy to beat my ass into writing about her some more. (i also use they/it pronouns for nanika)

[trinkerichi]

Sammymax ramble waaaah

Thinking a lot about season 3 and how genius it's design is compared to how arbitrary the first 2 games were set up. I mean i love them all but s3 is just leagues better gameplay wise. Max having magic powers gets rid of the tedium of backtracking, makes the jokes less predictable, let's the puzzles be more creative in a way that still has some logic to it, adds a REAL hint system, makes the gameplay more engaging overall, AND it directly causes all of the internal and external conflict of the story. Now it isn't "wacky things happen and Sam and Max are there", now THEY are the reason that the story is happening. And THATS the only way you can do a serious story in this series because like, Sam and Max dont value ANYTHING in the world except for each other. They barely care if their home gets destroyed or their other friends get exploded or the apocalypse is happening, as long as Sam's there to be the setup to Max's punchline.

AND THE WAY IT IMPACTS THEM TOO. it's such a good way to show their characters and analyze how they feel about a new serious turn in their lives, and I LOVE that they're not even subtle about it, with Sam actually talking about how it makes him feel, and Charlie psychoanalyzing Sam at the end of 304, playing up his insecurities to make him give up fighting. (It's amazing how characters in media rarely talk about their feelings in depth, unless it's an emotional cry-fest.)

Cuz despite Sam's fears, and even though Max is changing physically throughout the season, he's the only one who stays the same emotionally. Max just thinks the powers are fun! And he's here to help Sam out and have a good time like they've always done.

But Sam being the analytical one has to realize how much danger Max is in now, and how all these new characters wanna kidnap or hurt his little buddy, and the big conflict of this entire thing is Sam having to face his own vulnerability that he doesn't want to admit. Because his relationship with Max has always had a power imbalance, and it's one Sam is comfortable with. He likes being the leader. He always wins when they wrestle over the phone, he's the intimidating one when they encounter an enemy, and he's the one solving the puzzles. Even when Max is helping, he's mostly moral support and an extra gun hand. Not to say Max isn't as capable as Sam is, he's just taken the role of being the absentminded wildcard, and Sam likes to be the protector.

But the more powerful Max becomes, the more Sam feels that role being challenged. Now he has to follow Max around and give hints, while Max uses his power to solve the puzzles, culminating in Max being the only character who you can actually control and walk around at the end of 304.

And this doesn't manifest in jealousy or anger at all, that's not who Sam is, but it forces him to realize that he isn't Max's protector anymore, even though he still tries to be. Most telling when you read his mind and he says "Soon Max won't even need a partner..." As if being the big strong and smart one was the only reason Max wants to work with him.

Sam is a confident guy but still has his insecurities, and these are played up to a cruel extent in s3 with the constant fat jokes and puzzle solutions that are embarrassing for Sam, their home base, the office being off limits, and Max being taken away or in different forms constantly. It's telling that even though Max doesn't seem to be letting the power go to his head (besides his usual teasing), Sam worries that if Max doesn't NEED him around anymore that lessens his own worth. Even though Sam is the leader, he only really does this job because he loves to spend time with Max, and that's not something he fully realizes until he starts having to face the possibility of losing him. Ultimately admitting that if it really came down to it, he'd be able to go on living on his own, and could continue doing his job in his own noir detective style way, but he wouldn't be happy.

Max doesn't tend to talk about his feelings but we can still see how he feels through the Super Ego. The representation of the part of Max deep down that resents his lack of ambition. Though the superego takes the place of a villain of sorts he really is the part of Max that wants to be something greater than he is. To live up to his own potential, when he's just too scatterbrained to do anything about it. And the part of Max that seems to hate himself in a way. It's a good contrast to have with Sam I think. Neither of them resent the other for their roles in the team, but it's the source of their own insecurities. At the end of it all, they love each other so very much, but they're both very selfish too, and want to be more than what they are. It's only human! So to speak.. 

I wanna get back to Sam talking about going on without max, cuz I think that's the real tragic part of all of this. The cartoon is a whole different thing from the games but Sam had about the same reaction to Max being hurt. Without Max around he has no restraint and becomes violent. But whether or not he'd be able to move on, Sam would still be able to take care of himself.

But I think the cartoon is the only time we've gotten to see Max on his own, like after the “breakup” in the final ep or when he thought the guinea pigs killed Sam, HIS reaction was usually to cry, panic, and/or blame himself. In the case of the breakup he just completely gave up on everything. I don't think Max would be able to get along without Sam around. Sam kinda has a sense of purpose that keeps him going, with his sense of misguided justice and crime solving, but does Max have that? He’s just along for the ride. Thats why I think (besides the story needing to wrap up quickly), Max would be so drastic as to alter timelines just to get back to Sam. He has NOTHING else, the poor little guy.  

Man last thing is I wanna talk about the different endings to s3 too. I know they only exist because of creative differences in the writing staff but that makes it even BETTER. When Sam gets to recall the good times with Max he can either remember the crime fighting or the adventures. But the choice is really “What is Sam’s purpose? To do his job, or to have fun with Max?” If you choose crimefighting he says something along the lines of  “Of course I could keep fighting crime on my own, but I’d be depressed doing it by myself.” With adventures he emphasizes that he NEEDS Max by his side to discover the mysteries of the universe! It sums up the resulting endings very well. 

If you have him reminisce about the crime fighting, Sam puts his hat back on after his walk to the harbor, preparing to go back to his job like he’d been doing. It’ll never be the same, but crimes always need stopping after all. I imagine he’d just become Noir Sam forever. Brutally carrying out his missions while resenting the world that took his little buddy. 

If he remembers the adventures, after Sam walks to the harbor he takes off his hat and leaves it on the wall.  Max never cared about justice, he was always in it for the adventures. If Sam’s purpose is to have those adventures too, what’s the point without Max? What is he even going to do now? 

There’s a few tiny differences too, like how in adventures, Max gives a simple smile when Sam hugs him, but in crimefighting Max looks kinda confused? 

But the biggest thing of course is that, if you choose crimefighting, Sam and Max stay in Sam’s timeline and walk off into the sunset preparing for their next case. Sam gets rid of the time machine for good, and they keep things how they always were before like nothing happened. 

if you choose adventures, Sam decides to go back in the elevator to Max’s timeline. Abandoning his own and even nearly leaving his hat behind! They decide to aimlessly travel in the machine just to see what happens. It’s much more vague than the status quo of the other ending, suiting for the more “max themed” option.

It’s hard to decide which ending is sadder honestly. At their core they’re both the same. The version of Max we’ve known since episode 205 was doomed the second he found the first psychic toy. I’m assuming the Superego was lying and there was nothing to be done about the tumor. He’s just gone. 

So this new Max, with a new boatload of traumas that he’s NEVER going to acknowledge again, can go along with Sam and they can both pretend things are how they’ve always been. Sam can go back to crimefighting with past Max and they’ll figure it out from there. With their half destroyed office and their old friends and a replacement DeSoto later on. 

 OR, he can leave it all behind and go into the unknown with past Max. Man think about this ending from the side characters’ perspective!! They tell Sam there’s nothing they can do to bring Max back, they watch Sam silently walk to the harbor and then... they never find a trace of him again. geez

for THAT matter it’s implied a role reversed season 3 happened in max’s timeline with only minute differences. so everyone in max’s timeline will never see HIM again in the crimefighting ending. they’ve messed up the timestream but the equalizer is the timeline will either have both sam and max, or neither one.