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nataliaphantomhivesblog · 4 years

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In the end of it all, Monaca Towa was still a child.

To start this off, this isn't my usual Black Butler posts but ive been meaning to talk about Danganronpa for a hot minute, so please bear with me! Second, this is solely my opinion and before anyone wants to attack me please read thoroughly first. Thank you:)

(Spoiler warning for Danganronpa: Ultra Despair Girls and Danganronpa 3)

Also, before we dive in I'm going to list some trigger warnings:

Physcological abuse

Physical abuse

Manipulation

P*dophillia

Suicide attempt

Violence (?)

Childhood trauma

Please take care and read at your own risk<3

Hello there Danganronpa fandom! Today I will be talking about Monaca Towa (as stated in the title) and how people often minimize her trauma and sometimes forget the fact that shes still a child who got heavily manipulated by Junko too.

Monaca is seemingly very amiable and caring, because of her charming personality, all of the Warriors of Hope love her and try their best to keep her happy and go along with what she wants. However, it's slowly revealed that she is actually manipulative and cunning behind her friendly facade.

Monoca is a character that is cruel, manipulative, and extremly unhinged. Many of her actions cannot be excused or justified, but you can understand where she's coming from.

Monaca's Backstory:

She was born an unwanted child by both her father and her mother. Monaca's mother was supposed to take care of her but instead abandoned the child soon after her birth. Because of all her actions, Monaca saw her mother as a completely selfish and pathetic person. Monaca's father thought of giving her to an orphanage but instead took her into his family.

However, Monaca was always unwanted and everyone else felt uncomfortable around her. Every time Monaca smiled or joked, the others looked at her coldly, as if she didn't deserve to laugh. Every time she spoke, the others turned silent. His older-half brother thought of her as an alien, not part of the family.

She was also physically abused to the point that she pretended to be seriously wounded for them to stop as a result.

Monaca also attended Hope's Peak Elementary School and was part of the "trouble-makers class" along with Nagisa, Masaru, Jataro, and Kotoko.

Along with her fellow abused classmates, she planned a group suicide; however, Monaca never had any plans to commit suicide in the first place and was planning to let the others die as a prank.

The group suicide was stopped by Junko, who took the kids in and manipulated them by treating them with kindness and love.

Monaca then helped Junko mass produce Monokumas for the Tragedy by using her position as a representative of the Towa Group.

She lied to her father and the other adults in order to produce the Monokumas, telling them that she wanted to create futuristic robots that could be domestic helpers and emergency aid workers.

Due to her separation from the family and her genius, her family decided to give her leg room to do what she wanted as long as she brought in profits to the company, and didn't delve too deeply into her plans.

Things to keep in mind about Monoca's backstory:

She was emotionally and physically abused from a very young age.

She started to pretend to be paraplegic because she was finally treated with some kindness and she could have more control over people.

She convinced Nagisa, Jataro, Kotoko and Masaru to commit suicide.

Out of all the Warriros of Hope, Junko took the most intrest in Monoca due to her position, meaning that she was the one who got used and manipulated the most.

How Monoca's mindset works:

The moment she got physically abused to the point that she had to fake her injuries to make her family feel bad was the moment she learned that through sympathy from others comes power. Due to her families neglection and abuse, she started to quickly pick up on things in which benefited her yet hurt others.

She started to use manipulative tactics on her family to gain control over them. She then started implicating these tactics with the Warriors of Hope.

When Junko got into the picture, everything changed for the worst. Junko was the only person in Monaca's life who showed her affection. Even though deep down Monaca knew Junko only cared for her as a means to use her robotics genius for the Tragedy, Monaca didn't care, and happily helped out Junko with her plans if it meant being loved and appreciated in return. At the heart of it, despite all her horrific acts, that's a very child-like thing to do, right? So when Junko dies, Monaca's entire reason for living basically disappears.

AI Junko via Kurokuma may have planted the idea of a successor in her head, but in Monaca's mind it's a way to get her big sis back, and very specifically chooses to mold Komaru into becoming Junko's successor. That's for a big reason, Monaca doesn't want to become Junko, I'd say she actually just wanted her big sister back who would love and appreciate her again, and hence tried to make someone else take on that role initially. Once again, that's the mindset of a child.

Monaca's relationship with the Warriors of Hope:

The Warriors of Hope are a group of children who are extremely resentful and hateful of adults, regardless of whether or not they were involved in their rough paths.

We all know that the Warriros of Hope are extememly tramutized kids. Masaru had alcoholic parents who physically abused him, Jataro was physcologically abused to the point he bealived he was so ugly that if anyone saw his "repulsive" face they would die, Kotoko was r*ped multiple times by disgusting p*dophilic men (not to mention, Monaca's brother was attracted to her), and last but not least we have Nagisa who had pressuring parents who wanted to raise him as the child prodigy and expirimented on him constantly.

Monaca used the Warriros of Hope's trauma against them, manipulating them to the point were they had to do her bidding completly.

As much as I hate to say it, Monaca truly saw them as pawns. Although there are some instances where she openly declares her care for the Warriors of Hope, it's likely she does that as a form of emotional manipulation.

If anything, she probably did see them as equal in the beginning but then when she started to gain control over her own family, she started to do the same with the Warriors of Hope as a way to protect herself from getting hurt, then again this is my baseless assumption.

Her dynamic with Nagito:

Monaca was amused by Nagito's strange behavior and contradicting beliefs and appeared to be somewhat annoyed with him at the times. However, the two appeared to at least seemingly respect each other in some way, as they treated each other somewhat formally as allies.

Her dynamic with Nagito is one of the most intresting ones. Obviously I think that her being rasied by Nagito was potentially a dangerous thing, considering Nagito's goal was for Monaca to become Enoshima's successor. Monaca seemed to agree with this goal, but Nagito's constant rambling about hope and despair made Monaca bored and feel embarrassed about the whole thing.

She claims he made her an adult in a way, as she grew up in the mental sense and became more cynical and apathetic, not really caring about anything.

In the end, Monaca found Nagito creepy and annoying, but she also appeared to get closer to him during their time together, while originally calling him just "Mister Servant" in UDG, she later refers to him as "Big Bro" in Danganronpa 3. I do think their dynamic was sort of soft and I would've loved to have seen more of it. Honestly the concept of Nagito being a soft brother to Monaca warms my heart, and the wasted potential will forever anger me.

(If any Danganronpa fanfic writer or any writer in general is reading this post: if u could be so kind and do a PLATONIC Nagito and Monaca prompt and tag me in it, I would love you forever!!)

My opinion on Monaca:

I think that Monaca was a very well-written character who deserved more than what she got in the end of Danganronpa 3. She was abused, mistreated and belittled by her family. If anything, I see her as a completely misguided little girl. If she actually had a positive authoritative influence in her life, she wouldn't have turned astray.

A lot of people disregard Monaca's trauma and forget that at the end of the day, Monaca was a child who the moment she was born, the people who were supposed to love her were unwelcoming.

Don't get me wrong though, there is no way in hell I will ever justify or condone the things Monaca has done. If anything, I just think that she alongside the rest of the Warriors of Hope should've been properly taken care of.

Also, if you dislike/hate Monaca thats 100% valid! She did a lot of inexcusable things and its alright to hate on her. I personally love her character but I know she is not everyones cup of tea.

If you read all the way, I'm actually surprised! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed<333

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kozukitty · 4 years

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Forget Me Not

nishinoya yū x fem! reader.

warnings: major character death, mentions/implications of suicide. angst.

count the stars and i’m sure you’ll find me.

yuu nishinoya

january 9th, xxxx

there's a girl on the school rooftop.

her name is (y/n) (l/n)— a girl i've known since middle school. we never talked even though we were in the same class. i've never seen her speak to anyone, we all almost thought she was mute.

i almost didn't recognize her, she looked so much more different than how she did before. her hair was short back then, but now it cascaded down her shoulders like waterfalls— i was almost entranced from just looking at her. she said nothing to me, all she did was stare at me with her (e/c)-eyes that seemed so bright, yet so distant.

i apologized for intruding, and told her i had only came up to retrieve my volleyball. she gave me a perplexed look and said, "who the hell spikes a volleyball all the way up here?"

i knew she wasn't joking, but it still made me laugh. her question had almost caught me off guard, i wasn't expecting her to say anything to me. i didn't even think she would look my way.

she went silent again as i rambled about my teammates and how incidents like this weren't really uncommon. i felt my words get caught in my throat when she handed me my volleyball with delicate fingers that almost seemed like they could crumble like sand.

she didn't speak not another word and turned on her heels, my presence no longer imposing as a burden to her. i also turned to leave, but stopped the moment i felt the winter wind whisper into my ears. i glance back at her with a small smile before saying,

"you should come visit my practice sometime."

yuu nishinoya

february 7th, xxxx

there's a girl in my gym.

i was more surprised than anybody when i saw her walk in. she nearly froze on the spot when she saw all eyes on her, her face erupting into a cherry red blush as she played with her fingers nervously.

"i-i'm here for nishinoya-kun..." she stuttered, her eyes averting from every single person she laid eyes on in the gym. "i'm sorry for the intrusion."

everyone gave me the same confused look, their eyes boring into mine as they wordlessly asked for an explanation. "she's just a friend," i explained. "i invited her here."

tanaka yelled at me, obviously excited that i managed to convince a girl to show up. i could do nothing but give him a sheepish smile as i ran up to the girl who stood by the gym doors awkwardly.

"what are you doing here?"

"you said i could come," she responded shyly. "i-i just wanted to talk to you again..."

and there i stood talking to the girl who i just happened to run into that day in january. i never thought we would ever speak again, i never would've guessed that we would even run into each other at all. yet here she was, cheeks blooming in a rosy red with her silky hair tucked behind her ear neatly.

"d-do you have a valentine?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper. i felt a small blush creep onto my cheeks, giving her a small shake of my head, i responded with,

"no, i don't. do you?"

yuu nishinoya

february 14, xxxx

there's a girl in front of my locker.

she stood there with a deep blush on her face, her dainty hands clutching a box of chocolates. her feet shuffled on the ground nervously, and when her eyes met mine my heart began to race.

"t-these are for you, noya-san," she said, her hands holding out the small box that she was just about to crush mere seconds ago. i took the chocolate into my hands, giving her the biggest smile i could muster.

it was a little awkward, honestly. neither one of us knew what to say. i couldn't keep thanking her for the chocolate, so i tried my best to talk about something that would at least be of interest to her.

she was really just a cute flustered mess the entire time, and we laughed and everything felt surreal. i thought she was perfect for me, i thought she would be the one. why did good things always get taken away?

but at that time, i didn't know that. so i asked her,

"(y/n), do you want to go out sometime?"

yuu nishinoya

march 14, xxxx

there's a girl that i like.

she's the same girl who i saw on the roof that day. she's the same girl who came to my gym. she's the same girl who bought me chocolates on valentine's day.

(y/n) (l/n) was the girl that i liked.

she was beautiful, the most drop dead gorgeous girl that i had ever laid eyes on. seeing her made my knees weak, and it made my heart race faster than it ever would— even during a game.

today was white day. she was standing there outside my gym, waiting for me to walk out. i had invited her originally because i wanted to see her, but i had nearly forgotten that i had bought her something.

i almost thought i would chicken out when i handed her the chocolates in one hand and the tickets to the movies in the other, but i think she nearly fainted just from looking at the gifts alone.

"what's this for?" she asked, her voice still as quiet as it always is. i've gotten so used to it that i could still hear her even if she talked so low that wind could only hear.

"i-it's for you," i barely managed to stutter out. when she took the items from my hands, i felt my ears grow hot even though our hands barely touched. "and i-i have something else to s-say!"

she tilted her head at me. "what is it?" i shook off my nervousness, inhaling deeply before shouting, "i like you a lot! will you be my girlfriend?"

her face went beet red, and before i could catch her,

she fainted.

yuu nishinoya

march 20th, xxxx

there's a girl sitting next to me.

she's not paying attention to me though, she's too busy watching the ducks play in the pond. she catches me staring at her, but i look away before she can say anything to me about it.

after i asked (y/n) out on white day, she fainted. but the next day, she walked up to me and told me this, "take me to the pond on march 20th and i'll give you an answer."

i didn't understand why she gave me a specific day, but i could only guess that it meant something to her. when i looked at her to ask her about it, she spoke over me.

"i'll be your girlfriend." she said with a dark crimson blush. "b-but... p-please don't break my heart. i don't think i could handle that.."

"i would never do that," was what i said. and i meant it.

only one of us had a broken heart in the end. and it wasn't her.

it was me.

but i didn't know that would happen.

at the time, everything seemed perfect but in reality,

it was then that things started to go south.

yuu nishinoya

may 19th, xxxx

there's a girl that i treasure.

i don't treasure her like an object, i treasure her because she has a special place in my heart. i wish she understood that, but she doesn't.

there's something strange about (y/n). something she isn't telling me. i don't want to pester her about it, but i can't help but worry. it always seems like she is never really here— like she's always somewhere else. she had always been that way, even in middle school. i never knew why, not even now.

"noya, you really are amazing," she told me. "i admire you a lot. not just because you're my boyfriend, but just because you're someone who's easy to look up to. not height wise though."

her smile was light, it was seamless, it was beautiful. but for some reason, i couldn't detect an ounce of happiness. i never understood how someone so gorgeous could look so sad.

"(y/n)... is there something you aren't telling me?" i ask, my voice laced with concern. she only smiled at me. she said nothing. she only smiled.

the same smile that was filled with pain.

yuu nishinoya

june 4th, xxxx

there's a girl that i'm always around.

she's rather gloomy, but i've actually grown very attached to her. i don't mind her gloominess, i actually think it's really cute. sometimes, she makes me laugh with the absurd things that she says.

the way i feel around (y/n) is hard to explain, even i don't understand how i feel. i love being around her, and when she's not around i always miss her, even if she's gone for five seconds. i think it's weird, but i feel like she's a part of me now. i can't imagine a day in my life without her.

i wish i could tell her everything i felt about her. i wish she would tell me how she felt from time to time. i know she's keeping a lot of things from me, but i feel like its for a good reason. i tell (y/n) everything, and she normally does the same.

so why does this bother me so much?

i understand. i respect her privacy. but does she not trust me? does she not think that i'll see her the same?

i'll fix it. i'll get her to see me as someone she can trust. i'll get her to see me as someone she can trust with everything she has without judgement.

i want her to trust me with her heart.

yuu nishinoya

july 27th, xxxx

there's a girl that i love.

we were walking home from the fireworks festival. there was an odd vibe surrounding (y/n), like something was bothering her. i didn't ask her about it, because well, i didn't want to pester her or pressure her into thinking she had to tell me anything.

but i had something to tell her, something i had been meaning to tell her for a while now but never had the chance. something that i wanted her to trust me with, something that i wanted her to trust in so blindly that she would always believe in me.

and so, standing in front of her door to her home, i turned to her with flushed cheeks, taking a deep breath before shouting,

"i love you, (y/n)! i'm in love with you. no words could describe the way i feel about you. i love you so much, that even the words alone don't feel like i'm expressing it enough!

i love everything about you! i love the way you dress, i love the way you style your hair everyday, i love how smart you are, i love how funny you can be without trying, i love how you can make me feel like the most luckiest guy in the world! i love you! and i'd shout it to the whole world if you wanted me to! i'd tell the whole school! i love you, (y/n), and i will for eternity!"

even with the flustered look on her face, she gave me a laugh. it was small, it was nearly lifeless, yet it was for me. and i loved it. she holds my hand in hers delicately, her thumbs caressing the back of mines with the most gentle touch.

"yuu, i think you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love you more than life itself. you are my entire world, you know? thank you for giving

me this love. thank you for giving me this happiness. i don't want you to ever forget me."

i don't get the chance to respond before she opens the door of her home to step inside. she gives me one last smile before shutting the door, a smile brighter than any star in the night sky, a smile brighter than any diamond i could imagine.

"see you tomorrow."

that tomorrow never came.

all i received the next day was a phone call that i knew would change my life,

"n-nishinoya-san...! (y-y/n)... s-she's..."

my heart raced in my chest, my breathing stopped in that moment,

"s-s-she's dead...!"

there would never be a tomorrow for us.

yuu nishinoya

september 2nd, xxxx

there's was a girl who loved me.

a girl who helped me. she helped me with so many things she didn't know about. she helped me live. she helped me grow. she helped me see. she helped me love.

she was everything i wanted, and more. i loved her with every ounce of my being. i loved her more than i loved anything in this world, i loved her more than my biggest passion.

why didn't i see? why couldn't i see how bad she was hurting? she tried telling me in her own way, i know she did. so why couldn't i figure it out? why am i so stupid? why didn't i do more? why couldn't i do enough?

why do i have to stare at the flowers that rest on your desk in our classroom? why do i have to get looks of pity from everybody? why does everyone whisper and offer condolences as if they knew you?

why didn't you tell me? why won't you answer?

why did you leave me?

—✰—

yuu nishinoya

october 21st, xxxx

there's was a girl who i wanted to spend my life with.

everyday without her feels like a lost cause. i have no motivation. she was the reason why i wanted to keep going, she gave me hope, she gave me encouragement. she told me i gave her happiness, when in reality she was mine.

how does someone cope with this pain? it's been over a month. nothing stops hurting. it just gets worse and worse. i fall in love with her memory more and more everyday. why did it have to be her? why did it have to be me? why did it have to be us?

i wish i could've given her everything she deserved. i wish i could've helped her value her life as much as i did. i wish i could hold her right now. i want to tell her how much i love her again.

i would give anything to have her back. i miss her so much, it hurts. everything hurts so bad. why won't the pain stop? why does it never end? i want to start over. i want to redo everything. i want to press rewind.

i want to live with you again.

a life without you is so hard to live in.

i love you.

—✰—

"good evening, nishinoya-san,” the woman greeted with a soft smile on her face. "its been a while, hasn't it? how have you been faring?"

"alright, i guess."

"i've read your journal entries," the woman pulled out the battered notebook from her bag. "it really helped me better understand what you're going through, nishinoya-san. thank you for trusting me with it."

nishinoya shrugs, his expression blank and eyes void of emotion as he took the notebook from the womans hands. “i mean, you asked for it so..”

the woman nods, crossing her legs with a never-ending smile. “i’m glad you wrote about how you’ve been feeling. it’s healthy to express your emotions in some way— anything is better than keeping them bottled up,” she states, her fingers adjusting her sleeves absent-mindedly, “do you think writing has been helping you cope, nishinoya-san?”

“you could just call me noya.. and i guess so? i think i finally have the motivation to do the things i like now. at first it was hard to get back into the rhythm of things but things are sorta better now…” nishinoya explains, eyes moving to focus on the journal that he clutched in his hands tightly.

“i’m glad you’re easing back into your life, noya-san. take your time, okay? healing takes time, and you have all the time in the world. heal at your own pace, don’t worry about who won’t stick around, just think of who'll be around after the storm. you understand?”

“um, yeah.” nishinoya swallows harshly, a bitter taste suddenly being left in his mouth. who’ll be around after the storm, eh? does it even really matter?

without you, my storm is everlasting.

“i know it doesn’t make sense right now. if i’m being honest with you, you’ll probably never get over miss (l/n)... but the whole point of healing is acceptance, and not allowing grief to take over your life,” the woman places her hand over his reassuringly. “it won’t be easy, it never is. but you’re strong, noya-san. do you know how i know?”

“...how?”

“because, you relived those painful memories of yours and put them in this journal,” she tapped the book in his lap. “you tried to cope with your pain on your own, before you even met me. you felt helpless, and yet you still desperately tried your best to crawl out. do you know what most people do? wallow in their own pain. you should be proud of yourself, you should be motivated. do you know why? because you will heal.”

nishinoya stared at the woman in shock, unable to hold back the tears that gathered in his eyes. “h-how could you say that...?” he asked, endless warm tears slipping from his eyes. “h-how c-could you say that i’m strong? i-i’ve d-done nothing b-but cry and beg to g-god that she would come b-back... i-i’ve done nothing b-but b-beg for my p-pain to be taken away.”

he sobbed. he cried so hard that it hurt. he sobbed so loud that his throat hurt and his lungs helplessly begged for air. “i-it... i-it hurts...! i want her back... i-i want her back so bad…” he wailed desperately. “i-i miss her! i w-want her back... i-i w-want to start over...! e-even just f-for a second, even i-if it’s just a-an illusion... i want to see her again...!”

the woman nods, her arms surrounding him in a comforting embrace, “i know you do. noya-san. i really get it, i promise. you’re doing great, and you know what? i want you to write in your journal again. but for now, i want you to let it all out, right here.”

and so, that evening on january ninth,

nishinoya cried until his eyes could no longer produce tears,

and he shouted until his throat hurt.

—✰—

yuu nishinoya

january 12th, xxxx

there was a girl that i dreamed of.

the roof is empty without her today. it's empty every day without her. everything feels empty sometimes, even my heart.

i tried to heal, i even asked for help, yet i still can't get over you. it's like you took a part of me with you when you left. i love you so, so much, that when i write about you, i have to suppress myself so the words don't spill out like waterfalls,

i have to suppress myself from succumbing to the darkness in my heart. without you, there's no light. even the sunniest days still feel dark. i miss you. i want to hold you again. this time, i won't let you go.

this time, i'll give you everything you deserved. even if you want the world, i would try my best to give it to you.

the rooftop is quiet without her today. it was quiet even when she was here but, now the wind doesn't whisper to me anymore.

when i turned to leave, i stopped. why couldn't i move? why was my heart racing? why was my holding my breath?

when i turned, i dropped to my knees in sorrow. but i also felt relieved.

with a smile of a million angels, there she stood.

she was right in front of me.

#anime #yū nishinoya #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya x you #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader

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katsidhe · 3 years

Note

Hello as a long time silent lurker with post notifications on, and someone who has been very into the minecraft roleplay for about 9 months, I am oh so incredibly intrigued on your thoughts! I hope you don't mind if I ramble a little. Sam (both minecraft and spn, but in this context the minecraft one) is one of my favourite characters because he's so incredibly complex. The prison story has sparked so much discussion and conflict in this fandom, so I would love to hear your thoughts if you want to share!

oh noooooooooooo don’t enable me. (Jk <3)

I’m putting this under a read more for those of you who don’t want to be inflicted with my minecraft roleplay brain worms. I would apologize but I think we’re well past that.

So, like, full disclosure that I am pretty new to dsmp and am surely missing out on big ol swathes of Essential Character Content, etc etc. But I do know the basics, and I’ve (naturally) watched all the Torture Box Content, because I mean come on, that’s my brand.

k so First of all, THE most essential part of any media: x-coded y girl. Dream is a textbook Cas-coded Sam girl. Sam (Minecraft) is a Cas-coded Dean girl. Quackity is a Dean-coded Sam girl. I’d say Tommy is Dean-Dean. Techno is, hmm, Cas-Cas. Okay, important part done.

Minecraft Sam is very fun! I find it absolutely delightful that he clings to moral high ground while torturing and starving a prisoner. And at least from what I’ve seen, there’s a lot of room for interpretation as to the level of guilt and involvement he actually feels about what’s being done to Dream. He goes back and forth between justifying the treatment as something Dream categorically deserves, and justifying it as a means to an end. Whether that end is the book itself, or whether it’s Quackity’s cooperation/satisfaction, or whether it’s some twisted and bloody sense of justice and duty, seems to vary wildly. On top of that, of course, is the irony that Dream was the one to give him this commission and this job in the first place: in every respect, it’s a duty to Dream (to punish him; to secure him; to uphold his rules) that Sam’s fulfilling. Dream isn’t the only one to suffer from Sam’s inflexibility surrounding the entire concept of Dream: Tommy and Ponk do too.

And yet it’s not the inflexibility that ends up hurting Dream the worst: it’s the gaps in that rigidity. If Sam had kept the prison operating as apparently originally commissioned, it would be inhumane but just about bearable: hardly the level of absurd, over-the-top war crime that it’s reached by now. His choice to begin starving Dream in earnest seems to have been mostly an emotional reaction, after Tommy’s death. (Ironic, too, that Tommy also suffered the result of this choice.) And this is fine, because it’s not active: it’s passive, something that’s happening by inaction. Same with giving Quackity specially made weapons and total carte blanche.

The level of trust that Dream has in Sam’s sense of duty is also fascinating. Even as late as the most recent stream, after the guy’s been permitting him to be tortured for months, Dream appeals to Sam’s need to keep Dream static, in one place as his prisoner, in order to save his life. Incidentally, I do think that convincing Sam to keep Quackity from straight-up murdering him is the only concession Dream was actually hoping to win with that conversation. because like, food and a courtyard visit? after a jail break? Like hell is Sam going to grant that, even before the stunt he and Techno pulled, and Dream knows it. I think that the rest of that conversation was just to deflect, and keep Sam from questioning Dream more sharply about whatever he and Techno have planned. Bringing up Tommy and letting Sam go off on his predictable diatribe about morality and just desserts seemed similarly strategic: Dream knows what Sam thinks about what kind of treatment he deserves. He’s had months to figure it out, and it wasn’t exactly rocket science to begin with.

Anyway, that trust is the same reason Dream appealed (unsuccessfully) to Sam when Quackity first showed up: it devastated him to realize that he’d miscalculated the degree of Sam’s willingness to set aside his duty in this one particular way. Quackity in general represents a HUGE blind spot in Sam’s otherwise completely rigid inflexibility: so huge it’s almost baffling, given what Sam was ready to do to Tommy and Ponk and Ghostbur. But Quackity represents a loophole Sam badly wants. He badly, badly wants some good old-fashioned vengeance, without dressing it up with any pretensions of procedure or justice, but he can’t allow himself to actively act on those impulses—or else he would be Bad, and he can’t have that. He has to believe himself to be Good, and he wants to indulge himself with Dream’s suffering anyway. So he explains that, actually, Dream’s treatment is Dream’s own fault. It’s hilariously deluded.

Which brings me to Quackity, because what makes Quackity fun is that he’s actually NOT hilariously deluded—not about this, at least. Unlike Sam, he’s not laboring under the insane mental acrobatics necessary to convince himself that torture is Good Actually. He knows that what he’s doing is terrible, but he owns it: he’s fine admitting that he enjoys it, that he’s doing this for personal gain and personal vengeance and not for reasons of high-minded civic duty. He’s justifying the torture with brutal simplicity: Dream has hurt him and Dream has something he needs, done and done. He seems to be a firm believer in vengeful and disproportionate retribution, just as with his whole Butcher Army thing. To which I say, neat and fun! I also really really enjoy the power dynamic between him and Dream. Dream is someone who commands respect and fear and power, who could murder Quackity with one hand tied behind his back if they were on equal footing, and who probably barely spared him a thought as a threat. Quackity lives in terror of the thought of Dream escaping and wreaking his vengeance. And Quackity is trying his very best to wrestle that power away from him.

He seems to be pretty unpracticed and ineffective at torture, too—like, yeah, I get this is Minecraft and props are limited, but torturing someone long-term with an ax and a sword is going to be more than a bit unwieldy. and did he even bring in health potions his first day? It’s pretty telling and hilarious that Sam is the one who offers the shears, a far more practical choice of tool. Not to mention that the entire premise of his interrogation gives Dream massive, massive incentive to never give Quackity anything. Quackity straight up admits to Dream that the information he wants is the only reason he’s letting Dream live, which is utterly counterproductive if he wants the book sometime this year. Functionally, he needs to torture Dream not merely into admission, but into suicide. And as the days and weeks and months pass, he’s still got nothing to show for it but growing vindictiveness, paranoia, and frustration. By the time of the latest stream, he’s completely lost the plot—his threats don’t even make sense, his violence is ineffective and unhinged and indiscriminate. He’s lost all leverage and he’s needlessly (re)made a powerful enemy in Technoblade.

So, like, characters like Lucifer are fun because they’re good at torture. Characters like Quackity are fun because they’re bad at torture. But that doesn’t much matter. He doesn’t need to be particularly talented, or strong, or skilled to make Dream’s existence hell: the bare facts of the situation are more than enough for that. What does he learn, over the course of these visits—what skills does he hone, what kinds of violence does he discover that he can stomach? What depths of ruthlessness and creativity and hatred does he discover within himself? What threats does he make that he finds himself following through on before he’s even thought through the implications? It’s a learning curve, for him and Dream both. They’re learning each other, they’re learning the corners of this little hell together. Dream wasn’t expecting him to be capable of this degree of hostility or violence. Quackity is sick of being underestimated.

Which brings me finally to Dream. My general and hastily-gleaned impression of the fandom gives me the distinct impression that there is somehow a school of thought convinced Dream’s earned this treatment? Which baffles me. not only in how its absurd extremity (daily torture in a tiny box for literal months, jesus fucking christ) isn’t something even the most terrible villain could earn, but also in how Dream himself strikes me more as a morally gray fallen/falling antihero type than anything else. I was honestly completely prepared to find him to be a straightforward Bad Guy pre-prison, but that’s not at all my impression. He’s clearly got people and things he cares about and wants to protect, and big picture goals he’ll ruthlessly sacrifice anything to advance (ahem Cas-coded Sam girl). Really, it’s more that roleplays don’t tend to lend themselves easily to those types of narrative classification: nearly every character is a POV character; consuming the content from every perspective is nearly impossible. There aren’t super neat ways to sort antagonists and protagonists in essential terms, only in their relationships to one another. In terms of manipulation, war crimes, power-grabbing, and general destruction, practically everyone on the server is guilty to some degree or another. Dream’s treated Tommy pretty damn terribly, but that hardly makes him unique. What does make Dream unique is that he’s been singled out for near-universally-agreed-upon confinement (which oh so conveniently aligns with him being held as a tool, for information). And that’s neat!

…Look, tldr I just like it when people are in torture boxes. more media should have torture boxes, they are good and fun.

#not spn #anyway nonny I would LOVE to chat more about this tbh #suicide mention #torture #dsmp for ts

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jemmydoolz · 4 years

Text

Edgar Has Always Been Kind of a Bitch

hi okay so it's a little after midnight but I'm posting a fic rn bc it's the first fic I've written in like,, a yr and a half and also I'm rlly excited abt it??

anyway battle buddies/fahc jeremwood angst based on ramblings in a gc

(warning for minor assault implications at the beginning, and brief mentions of a suicide attempt at the end)!!!

Fiona and Gavin decide that what Jeremy needs is a night of bevs, and, to put it simply, get wasted, so the crew settles on going to a club that Friday. Jeremy only has one or two drinks, but boy does he get fucked up.

Ryan’s sitting and talking with Geoff and Jack in a booth, sipping a diet coke. He looks over Jack’s shoulder to see Jeremy standing at the bar with a much taller, more intimidating man looming over him. The guy reaches out toward Jeremy, who leans away from the touch. Jeremy nervously laughs and his eyes frantically dart around for someone, anyone who might be able to help him.

“Hello? Earth to Ryan?” Jack waves her hand in front of Ryan’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. sorry. Hey, um, I’m gonna go home, I’m just not really feeling great,” Ryan murmurs as he slides out of the booth, already heading toward Jeremy.

“Um, alright, I guess? Drive safe,” Jack calls after him.

Ryan speeds up when he sees the man grab Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy’s face flipped through a thousand emotions at once when he saw Ryan approaching, but eventually landed on confused but grateful. He gave Jeremy a look that said just go with what I’m about to say.

“Hey, babe,” Ryan says. The man immediately drops his grip on Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy does his best not to choke on his own spit when he hears the word babe come out of Ryan’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in so long, and he didn’t think it would still hurt so much.

“Oh, hey!” Jeremy turns to Ryan and reaches up to peck him on the lips. “Where’d Edgar go? It’s his birthday, I figured he would wanna hang out with his friends!”

Fuck. Mentioning something about their friend ‘Edgar’ was always code for I don’t feel good about this, let’s leave. Edgar’s birthday meant I’m having a panic attack, I need your help. Ryan wanted to punch the guy that was practically feeling Jeremy up. No—he wanted to fucking kill that bastard. He and Jeremy may have had a severe falling out, they may have suffered years of heartache and longing, but he still felt responsible to make sure Jeremy was safe.

“He said he kinda wanted to go home. He went to the bathroom while I found you. You, uh, just about ready?” Ryan’s eyes flitted between Jeremy and the other man, who cleared his throat and mumbled something about needing to go find his friends before walking off.

Jeremy and Ryan both sigh in relief once he’s gone.

“Wanna head outside for some fresh air for a minute?” Ryan asks, getting a meek, obviously shaken-up nod in return.

Jeremy says something that Ryan can’t quite hear over the music as they walk outside.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing. It was dumb.” Jeremy shakes his head. Ryan has had enough experience to know that it was better to just leave it alone. They both wordlessly come to a stop and lean against the wall of the building a few yards from the door. Almost as if they had been working as partners for years. They spend a few minutes saying nothing, watching people on the street, looking at the stars in the sky. Ryan can’t help but study the intricacies of Jeremy, realizing that so many things have changed, but somehow almost nothing about him is different. Jeremy’s hair is just a tad bit more grown out than it ever was at the agency (also, it’s bright purple and orange, which is not exactly the most appealing color combination, but that’s a topic for another day), but he still runs his hands through it when he’s lost in thought. It’s curlier than it used to be, but maybe that’s just because it’s longer. He still clenches his jaw so hard it seems like he’s going to break his teeth when he’s scared. He still wears a tank top under his shirt, no matter how hot it is outside. His eyes still crinkle at the corners when he lets out a bark of laughter that Ryan still swears up and down sounds exactly like a squeaky toy. He’s changed, though. Ryan can see in his eyes that he’s become aware of reality. He knows the responsibility he carries, the heavy consequences that come with his actions, that death is around the corner at every moment.

“D’you- d’you want me to take you home?” Ryan says barely above a whisper, but loud enough for Jeremy to hear. “You can go back inside if you want, but I know you always used to want to go home and be alone after Edgar shows up.” Jeremy lets out the tiniest breathy chuckle.

“Edgar has always been kind of a bitch, hasn’t he?” Jeremy says as he looks away from the sky to meet Ryan’s gaze, and his heart falls apart all over again for the thousandth time. That fond look of reminiscence and joy was one Ryan donned frequently at the agency. “I- Yeah. yeah. I’d really appreciate a ride home. I’m just a little too drunk to drive, I think.”

“Alright. I parked just down the street. Penthouse or your apartment?” Ryan hadn’t even noticed that Jeremy did seem somewhat tipsy; his Boston accent slipping in occasionally and his words slurring the tiniest bit.

“Um, apartment,” Jeremy says. “D’you rem-”

“Yes, I remember where your apartment is, Jeremy.”

It’s only a few minutes into the drive to the other side of town when Jeremy pipes up. “I honestly didn’t really expect you to help me. I didn’t expect you to remember Edgar, either. I dunno why I said it, I guess just vaguely hoping you would even though it’s been, what, three years?” he pauses for a moment and just takes in Ryan's profile. “I always hope you remember things from then. I know it went to shit, but we still had so much fun. We made so many memories and did so much dumb shit there. But I’m glad that stupid fuckin’ place collapsed. All of it was complete bullshit. I just wish it all fell apart before we did.”

Ryan doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.

“All those meetings I had to stay late for? Fuckin’ useless. They served no purpose, and I don't know why I was forced to go to them. I feel like the only reason I had to go to those meetings was because someone was hiding something from me. It was obvious that so many things were kept from us.” Jeremy stops for a second to try to will away the lump rising in his throat. “I thought you were cheating on me. For the longest time. I still don’t know whether you actually were. You were always out on ‘special missions’ and shit.”

The moment Ryan hears Jeremy let out a shaky breath his heart breaks.

“Was it me? Was I not good enough? I promise I tried my hardest to be what you needed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t. All I wanted was the best for you, Ryan. Even now, I just want you to be happy. If you're happier with someone else, then that’s what I want. I don’t blame you, though. I don’t deserve someone like you. You deserve so much better than me. I would do anything for you, Rye. We were together for so long. We did everything together! I thought I was gonna marry you. I was saving up money to get a ring. I guess I was too stupid to see that you didn’t want me anymore.”

Ryan looks over to see the tears staining Jeremy’s cheeks reflecting the soft orange glow of the streetlamps. Is this really what Jeremy thinks?

“I was so in love with you, Ryan Haywood. I’m- I’m still in love with you. I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes. Every time I see you hurt, upset, angry, anything other than healthy and happy my heart aches. I’m sorry I wasn't enough. I promise I tried. Fuck, I tried so hard.”

With every sob Jeremy lets out, Ryan's heart breaks just a little bit more. The short distance left until Ryan pulls up to Jeremy’s apartment building is spent wordlessly. Jeremy’s clambering out of the car and reaching to grab the door when Ryan speaks.

“Hey, Jer, do you want me to walk you up? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve already been a pain in your ass tonight, I don't need to waste even more of your time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” Jeremy sniffles and wipes his cheeks, giving a half-hearted smile before shutting the door and walking away.

Ryan sits there for a second, unable to process fully what he just heard. He starts driving without even knowing where he was going, and he’s so lost in his thoughts that suddenly he’s sitting in his car in front of the boardwalk along the beach and crying. He can’t believe anything he was just told—there is no way in hell that the brilliant, witty, talented Jeremy Dooley ever doubts his worth. It’s jarring to think that part of it was because of Ryan. He was going on extra missions because the agency was growing more and more demanding. For months they tormented Ryan with the threat of kicking out Jeremy. They said they’d do other things to him that Ryan doesn’t want to remember. Why did Jeremy never bring it up? Why did he just accept that Ryan had ‘moved on?’ Their lives were so intertwined with one another that Ryan never felt truly whole again. The only reason Ryan went with the break up was that he saw how distant and cold Jeremy had gotten. Ryan had assumed that, for whatever reason, Jeremy had changed his mind. He hated it, he was devastated, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Ryan decides he doesn’t want to go back to the penthouse tonight. He pulls up to the nearest crew safehouse, and suddenly things click.

Jeremy had always struggled with bad self-image and depression. He had gone to Ryan for comfort, which he was always more than willing to give. Jeremy was doing better. At least he told Ryan he was.

Jack had mentioned a while ago that when Jeremy first joined the crew, she had found him after a suicide attempt and barely left his side until he recovered. The only reason for it Jack had told Ryan about was ‘emotional trauma from a past relationship, that he didn’t really want to talk about.’

Ryan did that to him.

Ryan made the love of his life want to die.

The pieces left of his heart fall into more shards than there are grains of sand in this world.

He collapses onto the couch inside, too exhausted to even get to the bed. He knows he’s not going to be able to sleep, though.

To: Geoff

Dropped Jeremy off at his place, he was pretty drunk though so check on him please

To: Geoff

I’m staying at kung fu safehouse for the night

#my fic #holy fuck #i did that !!!#thats a whole ass 1874 words babeyyy!!!!!#fahc #fahc ryan #fahc jeremy #fahc au #angst #battle buddies #fake ah ryan #fake ah jeremy #fake ah crew #fake ah au #minor suicide mention #suicide mention tw #ragehappy

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mueritos · 5 years

Note

Hello! Can I ask.. what does it mean to be aro to you? I know that it means you don't have any interest in romantic relationships, but how does it apply to you? Does that mean that you don't like any physical affection at all? Or gestures of love? Not necessarily from a partner, but from family usually. Does aro just mean that you like only platonic relationships? But you've said you're not opposed to sex (so no emotional link to those people). Sorry to intrude, I'm just a little confused

Hello! I can only give my own experience, so it’s best to be aware that my own experience is not telling of others’. I’ll answer each question asked, then.

1. For me, being aro has meant something much more than being unable to relate to or engage in romantic relationships. Philosophically, I tie it more to the Existentialist idea of free will, but also, questioning the validity and intricacies of romance leads to metaphysics at times (though not completely, more or less just questioning reality). I always felt romantic relationships to be encroaching on aspects of myself and my identity. I’m a very emotionally independent person, so I always expect that of others. Introspection into my queer identities solidified that, and the fact that I pushed myself out of episodes of suicidal ideation on my own. Being aro has allowed me to accept parts of myself that I repressed or hid to “fit in” to a society that pushes monogamy, romance, compromise, and emotional/physical limitations.

2. I don’t mind physical affection, I get a lot of it from my closest friends. I hug and cuddle my friends a lot, sometimes kissing each other on the cheeks. When I know certain actions have romantic connotations or feelings toward them, then I am uncomfortable. I also don’t initiate touch often unless it’s with someone I’m very comfortable with. I hold my own personal space highly, so I do the same for others out of respect. I get my doses of love and affection from family and friends, so I dont feel a need to seek anything else out. I also think of these affections as affirmations for the self love that I have worked hard to build within myself. The fact that I have stable relationships with people and that I’m comfortable enough with myself to view their affections as simply something extra outside of my own allows me to thrive as an emotionally independent person. I don’t seek validation anymore, I seek affirmation. Gestures of romantic love I do not like when directed toward me. Flattering I suppose to know that you are wanted, but if anything, it makes me realize just how little people actually know. People having crushes on me is my biggest annoyance; it just proves that I have issues with people having (idealized) perceptions of myself that are different than my own perception of myself.

3. I don’t only like platonic relationships, and I think this can be confusing for a lot of non aro people. Our relationships aren’t limited to platonic because romance may be out of the question (some aros do like dating and do date), but sometimes platonic relationships don’t capture the level of intimacy we crave with someone that isn’t romantic. I don’t like compromise, I don’t like sharing space or having my valuable time taken away, I hate being idolized, and I do not like feeling I am this other person’s only Person. I can certainly see myself in a partnership with someone (or multiple people at once), but they would be under specific terms and I wouldn’t mind being physically intimate with these people either. I don’t see myself doing one night stands because I like emotional intimacy. If I were to have sex, it wouldn’t be with just anyone just because I don’t care about the romantic implications behind it; sex is something vulnerable and I treat it as such. Sex doesn’t need to have a romantic context behind it to be treated seriously. There are few people I’ve considered entering a partnership with, but because I don’t ever initiate anything or do anything that might make that known, I don’t ever breach anything beyond my own fantasy. Yes I'm aro, but I don’t treat any relationship lightly, and I have very emotional ties with people. I am just more lenient and less likely to engage in things in ways other’s want me to (I’ve been called cold and heartless because of this).

I hope I answered your question and wow this became a ramble, but I hope it gave some clarity. Even now I still try to work through what aromanticism means to me haha

#pittsanswers #aromantic #lgbt #LGBTQIA #lgbtq+

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