#tw: emotional abuse mention

[coopereliashawkins]

full name: cooper elias hawkins

nicknames: coops, coop, c, hawkins

age: 40

dob: october 31st

hometown: southport, north carolina

current location: manhattan, new york city, new york.

neighborhood: wesley park

occupation: former nyc detective, current sniper for jade menaces.

gender: cis male

sexuality: heterosexual

relationship status: single

theme song: angel with a shotgun - the cab

tw: sibling death mention, tw: drowning accident mention, tw: boating accident mention, tw: emotional abuse mention, tw: mental abuse mention, tw: physical abuse mention, tw: smoking mention, tw: alcohol mention

cooper elias hawkins was born on cctober 31st back in 1984 to two loving and hardworking parents named william and heather (nee’ cooke) hawkins. the hawkins clan was very well known and well liked in their town of southport, north carolina which is where they resided and where cooper had grown up. william & heather are very successful owners of a diner that’s family owned. it’s beloved in their town.

ryan hawkins was the first of the hawkins clan, then ethan, the annie, then cooper and finally the baby megan whom they call meg. growing up cooper idolized his older siblings, his brothers were his best friends and his sister annie was someone whom he admired and aspired to be like. meg was someone cooper always took care of and adored. the hawkins siblings were well known and well liked by the town and could do no wrong.

they were one big happy family. that was until one 4th of July annie and cooper had decided to take their family boat out onto the water alone, without their parents permission. he was 11 at the time and annie was a little bit older. they drove it illegally, but annie really wanted to go and she always had a way of making cooper follow in her footsteps.

they were having a good time and being safe until annie decided to jump into the water after cooper had told her and begged her not too. it was a while until cooper had realized she hadn’t come up from the water. panicked and scared, cooper illegally drove the boat back to shore for some help. once reaching his parents & some cops, they ruled it as a drowning accident. they always said that annie held the family together and her death tore it apart.

his father was furious and devastated and wrongfully accused & blamed cooper for annies death even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. growing up for cooper wasn’t easy anymore. he wasn’t the happy go lucky kid he used to be. his father had mentally and emotionally and sometimes physically abused him for years, and his two older brothers followed in their fathers footsteps. cooper closed himself off and didn’t talk to them until he actually needed too. the only ones who truly cared about him and worried about his well being was his mother & his little sister meg.

he kept to himself and got into reading and writing. he hid himself away in his room, and only had a couple of friends. cooper excelled in school and kept his grade average high. he graduated high school with honors and had decided to move as far away from the small town of southport as possible to get a fresh start.  choosing the city that never sleeps, cooper was accepted into almost every nyc college but ended up choosing brooklyn college. he majored in & has a master in criminal justice, and minored in florescence science.

however that wasn’t what he wanted to do in life. after graduating college with honors again, he decided to go into the academy and become a police officer. after a couple years of being a cop, he took the detectives exam and has been/is in the homicide unit ever since. that was until he had met and fallen in love with his former partner, noora raymond. they were in love and sneaking around and then one day the man disappeared. he had met someone who was apart of the Gang the Jade Menaces. cooper has been working as a Sniper for them ever since.

Morgan Chen is someone whom he met on accident, someone after Noora Raymond. It was a drunken one night stand but somehow because so much more than that. He fell in love with he, more in love with her that Noora and theyve been together ever since. On and off, but mostly on. The two, especially Cooper is ready to settle down. He's ready to say those three words to her, he's ready to ask her to marry him, have a family.

However his job and the death of his sister haunts him on a daily basis. Cooper can be pretty self-destructive sometimes & will purposely get into bar fights but then will use his “I’m a detective” excuse to get out of it even though he's not anymore. He drinks, and sometimes his friends think it can be a problem. Used to smoke in college but doesn’t anymore. still loves to read and write and secretly keeps journals and writes in them. Especially writing to his sister Annie when he can't sleep.

[infinite-beginnings]

The line when Charles said, "Edwin's told me loads of stories about Hell," and him seeming to know he'd find a map in Edwin's book always hits me hard.

Now I acknowledge Charles might’ve been posturing to reassure the Night Nurse he could navigate Hell, but let's assume this fact was real.

Because that means that Edwin felt comfortable enough to talk about all of his trauma to Charles. He mentions Hell a lot in passing in front of the girls, but he never goes into specifics. However, it seems as if he actively told Charles quite a few details about Hell. I also noticed that Charles is very calm when he's going to find Edwin. Yes, he's studying the book a lot, but he is also navigating the space with a certain amount of confidence. I'm sure it's partially due to Charles' tendency to do things without thinking and project confidence. But also, it seems as if he might have at least a very basic level of knowledge or familiarity with the levels of Hell based on the stories Edwin told.

I think this is probably another reason why Edwin struggled to believe the fact that Charles had faced abuse in his past and never shared it with Edwin. Because Edwin was always up front and honest with Charles. He told him the very first time they'd met that he had just escaped Hell. I'm sure Edwin did not want to relive his memories of Hell, and maybe it took him decades to feel like he could share. But I bet when he started talking about it with Charles, he felt relief. Because sharing your trauma with someone who accepts you and loves you no matter what is always a relief after holding it in and pushing it down.

So I just imagine Edwin feeling that relief after sharing his stories from Hell and feeling closer and more bonded with Charles because of it...and then he finds out that Charles has this huge amount of trauma from his past that he has been keeping inside. It probably breaks Edwin's heart that he hadn't been able to offer Charles the same relief he'd felt.

And yes, Crystal mentioned that Charles was probably denying the trauma even to himself. We all know that Edwin knew something was off with Charles and that he was probably frustrated in himself because he hadn't been able to figure it out, but Crystal apparently had.

But I also think there might be another level to it. The boys have been solving cases for 30 years. I find it hard to believe that they never had another case involving abuse or at least someone with a controlling personality that would've reminded Charles of his father. Maybe Edwin thinks back to a couple of those cases and how Charles was acting strange and withdrawn during them and realized he'd missed a huge clue about how his friend was feeling.

All those years of sharing his stories from Hell and being comforted by Charles and Edwin hadn't been able to do the same. Edwin is definitely hurt that Charles didn't feel like he could confide in him and heartbroken to think about how much pain his friend was going through alone.

[faramirsonofgondor]

“Gabe isn’t abusive in the show” ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW???

Gabe is literally introduced by yelling at someone who, when Percy apologizes for Gabe’s behavior, says “I’m walking out, you’re walking in. I should be apologizing to you.” And then Percy reluctantly and slowly walks inside. And Gabe immediately starts in on him (calling him “Genius” in a mocking tone) as Percy repeatedly expresses that he just wants to talk to his mom ( and Gabe’s subsequent “Is that all you have to say to me?”) The fact that he answered Sally’s phone and acted like he had every right to do so?? The way he shows begrudging respect when thinks Percy was violent towards another kid at school?? The “you would think that because you’re a child, you don’t understand things…” The way he gets annoyed that Percy wants to know where his mother is. The “what are we doing Percy? every time! wow…wow!” in such a condescending tone??? Percy’s immediate alarm when Sally calls Gabe’s name. Gabe immediately yelling at Sally, not knowing anything about Percy’s life (he didn’t even know his school’s name despite literally just talking to them), the way he makes Sally negotiate to use the car (“Why am I okay with this?” “Make sure they put the hot peppers on my sandwich please!”) the way he acts like his tone of voice shouldn’t matter to Sally because he said “please” the aggressive behavior even after he concedes to letting them use the car (getting in Percy’s face, pointing his finger at him, etc.), like???

Just because he isn’t depicted as smacking the shit out of them doesn’t mean he isn’t abusive. He is constantly yelling, even when it’s not necessary, and is overall condescending and rude towards both Percy and Sally. He has a positive reaction towards the idea of Percy being violent, which means that he probably has no problems getting violent himself, even if it isn’t show on screen. The fact that he is constantly trying to redirect Percy and Sally’s decision to make himself the center of it (he is trying to goad Percy into an argument when he gets kicked out of school and overall keeps trying to redirect the conversation back to himself, he acts like he is allowed to breach Sally and Percy’s privacy but then makes Sally get his permission to drive somewhere, and even then she has to give him something in return). Like he is very clearly controlling and emotionally/financially abusive (he acts like Sally’s things are his despite not having a job and likely blowing through their money). It also seems like he tries to diminish Percy’s self esteem, possibly to keep him and Sally under his thumb (it’s a common tactic used by abusers to make the victims feel like the need to depend on the abuser). Overall, just because he might not be physically abusing them, doesn’t mean he isn’t abusing them and doesn’t mean his actions aren’t harmful. Furthermore, just because he isn’t violent on screen doesn’t mean he isn’t violent.

[dykedvonte]

Curly not immediately punishing Jimmy for assaulting Anya is something I don’t think a lot of people are viewing in the complex context for Curly as the superior to both of them and closest confidante they had.

Like I am in no way saying he didn’t under react or fail Anya by not being harsh or direct with Jimmy but it really is the case that he really couldn’t. Imagine being stuck in such a confined space with very little areas to genuinely hold someone if they commit a crime. It’s not like this was an event that occurred before they departed or that they have easy communication with The Pony Express to ask for how to proceed when something like this arises. Not to mention, Jimmy’s relative power in relation to Anya as the co-pilot and second in command, he has the knowledge and access to do something to her had Curly directly punished him in this setting.

They were also Curly’s friends. It’s not just the case of him mediating something between his subordinates but people he is personally invested in don’t want to see spiral further in Anya’s case while also not wanting believe his friend go that bad in Jimmy’s actions. They were both suicidal and Curly putting Jimmy’s stability first is both out of bias but also the fact he’s aware at some level Jimmy is a danger to himself and others if not constantly placated. Combined with the fact he was in denial or just not piecing together what Anya said it’s hard to say what he buying time for and what he had treat as urgent. This isn’t even saying he doesn’t care about Anya but he’s not going jump to the worst conclusions about his friends even if part of him acknowledges the evidence saying so. It’s a complicated thing but he’s still human and needed to process it on top of trying to keep a ship that already took on a lot of water from further sinking, metaphorically.

I just personally think that while Curly failed Anya, it was a scenario where there wasn’t much he could do to the best thing by her safely and like Jimmy, we are underestimating what a good leader would do in a very fragile and tense situation like he was in. By the time he may have been ready and had a plan, things were much too late.

[disheveled-opossum]

Alright, this has probably been done before, and I'm not SUPER into the whole, "humans are space orcs," community, so this feels like breaching containment for me, but I had a thought. Yanno how a lot of people who have been in toxic and abusive relationships, (familial, platonic, romantic etc.) often talk about their experiences with how hard it is to leave the people who are hurting them, because of various different reasons from codependency, to emotional manipulation, trauma bonds, and so on and so forth? Well, what if some ill-intentioned aliens catch wind of humans' ability to pack bond, even with those who've hurt them, but what they don't realize, is how fucking capital 'A' ANGERY, we get when someone we know, is being abused. And I don't mean this in a white knight, someone swooping in to save the other human from the relationship, with little to no input from the victim, these situations are very delicate and complex. But like, especially the side of this community, that likes imagining humans as notorious deathworlders, imagine that you, as an ill-intentioned alien, have, for whatever reason, decided to use a human's pack bonding instinct against them, you think this is their weakness, that you now have immense control over them, you're enjoying the power high, but now, this human's family/friends/whatever, fucking hate you, you go to a party, or gathering, hell, if you live close enough, you just step foot out of your dwelling, and you're met with one of space's most infamous predatory species, glaring at you, they don't strike, they don't yell, they're generally civil, all things considered, but you feel watched, hunted, as you feel their gaze on you wherever you go. Idk, I'm just rambling.

[exhelluvafan]

Can someone tell me why people still think that Stolas doesn't understand social cues or lacks self-awareness, despite the fact that Stolas did all this shit against Blitz deliberately?

Why are people still defending him with those flimsy arguments?

Like, dude, if Apology Tour wasn't enough... Then how the fuck are you supposed to see Stolas' glare (not "love gaze", because it's not that, it's an actual glare, a hateful, silent scowling glare towards Blitz, which mind you, is Stolas' victim supposed "love interest") during Mastermind in any better light?

And no, this isn't Stolas actually giving the message to Blitz that he still loves him, this is actually a glare that screams "See what you've done, imp? This is what happens when you keep denying me, I'll make you regret it, regret for ever crossing me."

Like... You guys realize that Stolas IS going to gaslight Blitz even further and hold this against him to keep abusing him without any repercussions nor objections from Blitz because Stolas "saved" his life? What kind of "wholesome" relationship is that?!

And don't come at me with the "he doesn't know any social cues" or "lacking self-awareness" bullshit, Stolas is doing all this DELIBERATELY, YOU CANNOT RAPE AND ABUSE SOMEONE UNINTENTIONALLY.

...I'll just say, whoever keeps parroting those stupid arguments, please, please for the love of everything that's living, read about abusive tactics down here, because all of this shit is just a massive advantage towards Stolas to keep abusing Blitz, and it's not "cute" in the slightest.

And if you keep defending Stolas and still giving him the benefit of the doubt after reading all that... Then you're a lost cause, sorry mate.

If people genuinely think that you can abuse and rape someone unintentionally... then you really must be either naive, or don't know how any of this shit works, because these actions CANNOT be unintentional in the slightest, they're deliberate by nature.

[inkblot22]

Give You Something To Cry About

Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.

This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.

“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”

You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.

He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”

Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.

You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.

Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.

“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”

Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?

He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”

You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.

You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.

The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream? 

You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.

By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together. 

You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”

You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.

He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”

You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.

“Do you have something to say?”

You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”

“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”

You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.

 You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.

Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.

“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”

You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he’s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.

“Who is it?”

That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”

You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”

As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.

Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.

“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”

Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.

“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”

You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.

“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.

You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”

“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”

“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”

Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”

“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.

Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.

His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.

“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”

“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”

He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.

“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.

You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you. 

“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.

With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.

Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”

“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”

You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”

“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.

His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.

It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.

It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.

His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.

Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.

He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open. 

He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.

“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.

You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t… 

You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.

Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears. 

Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.

Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves. 

It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage. 

From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.

Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.

You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.

“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”

He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.

Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”

“N-no, Vil-”

“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”

You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”

“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.

You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.

“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.

You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.

“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.

“I see. What did he do?” 

You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”

“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”

You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.

You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.

He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”

You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”

That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together. 

Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.

For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.

“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”

You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.

Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.

“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.

Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.

Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.

“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais été très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say. 

You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”

Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.

Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.

Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”

You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.

He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”

Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.

“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you. 

It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.

“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”

You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”

“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.

“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”

You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.

Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.

He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”

Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.

You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.

You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today, 

“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”

Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.

You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Why?” Rook asks.

Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.

“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”

“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?

You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”

“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.

You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.

Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.

“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”

That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.

You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.

It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.

Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.

He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.

At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.

“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.

“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”

You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.

He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”

You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.

You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”

Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”

“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”

You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.

His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.

“Wait-”

“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.

You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.

You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff. 

He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”

“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.

Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.

“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”

You’re honest, “I’m scared.”

“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”

“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does. 

Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw. 

Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”

You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.

“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.

Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.

It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.

Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.

“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.

“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily. 

He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”

From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”

“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.

Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.

As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.

You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.

It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you. 

You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?

You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”

Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.

“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”

“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.

“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.

You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.

You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.

“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”

Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”

A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.

“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”

You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.

You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.

“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.

“Yes, Vil.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”

It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.

“How are you feeling, cheri?”

“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.

The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”

“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”

You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.

You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?

[meeb-motes]

Can you do aac emojis abt gr00ming? We go nonverbal sometimes when talking abt out gr00mer.

Non /sx grooming and /sx grooming emojis .

We are a victim of grooming so these are based on our experience , hopefully it’s ok ! also sorry if it isn’t as high quality art as usual , we are very burnt out ^.^

requests are open

-F2/🍁

[furiousgoldfish]

I have this reoccurring problem where I feel like I've found a friend in someone, and then some time later, this person does something to hurt me, and rather than apologizing, they snap at me, act like I'm awful and a nuisance to them, and generally get very angry with me. First it makes me feel guilty, and I go over everything I did to see how I deserved this, but then I realize I didn't do anything, they just hurt me and snapped at me, made me feel like it's my fault. And then I get scared that this person could do that, because I can't even imagine doing that to anyone, it's so deeply unethical and shitty, but people do it like it's their second nature. Once I realize that this person scares me, I know I have to get distance and move away from the friendship if I don't want to live a very anxious and triggering life, so I do that. And thus I have no friends anymore.

Now for me, this occurred easily over 30 or 40 times with different people, to the point where I've started to wonder if I maybe draw this behaviour out of them. Because I will usually pick people who I believe would never do that, who seem to be kind, understanding, gentle, funny, easy going, I go for that almost every time, and still they snap at me. I'm wondering if it's because everyone in their mind thinks there's one person somewhere they're allowed to snap at, and since I'm very mild tempered, easy going and understanding, it feels to them like snapping at me couldn’t possibly have any consequences?  Again, I don't understand this, I would rather never snap at any person in my life.

My problem is that sometimes, I end up very bonded to these people, and I start building hope that maybe I could be normal, have friends, function in society, just because it feels for a bit like I'm accepted, I'm allowed to socialize and chat and joke around and tell things to someone, and this means the world to me. I've lived in an environment where I was not allowed any of that. So when these specific people snap at me, my hopes crumble to the ground, and I'm back into the place where I don't feel like I'm a person anymore. Even worse, I get triggered back into my childhood, where my parents screamed at me telling me how disgusting I am, how nobody will ever want anything to do with me, and how I'm the worst thing to ever exist on the planet. That's how I end up feeling when anyone turns against me, or abandons me. I keep it to myself, because I don't want the triggers affecting the friendship. But they affect me deeply.

That feeling of someone I care about finding me disgusting and awful and poisonous gives me so much pain I want to curl up and disappear. I want to not exist anymore. I would rather be alone forever than experience more of that. And that's exactly what I do; I curl up in my own little corner and don't socialize out of terror that more of this will happen, because it does happen so often and I still never see it coming.

I know on some deeply logical level, that people are snapping at me because it's easier for them to do that than to face that they've done something wrong, that they've hurt our friendships and acted badly towards me; they need it to be my fault so they'd feel better about themselves. Taking it out on me is just an easy route because I have zero vindication in me and probably won't ever snap back or get angry in return; I'll just withdraw. I'm always too worried I've genuinely done something wrong when it happens, I'll apologize a thousand times, I'll spend a while trying to figure out what's the truth, and then before I even think about getting angry, I'll be swallowed by pain and sorrow that this happened to me again.

Has anyone found any ways to have people not snap at you when they hurt you? What kind of change in attitude would achieve this? Do I just have bad friend-picking skills? Is this just a normal part of life that other people can handle because being snapped on doesn't make them suicidal? Is it considered normal that your friend will sometimes snap at you when they hurt you? Is it not a glaring red flag? In some cases people will not only snap but also gaslight me about what happened, and I know gaslighting is way over the line. Has this been happening to others? Please give me any opinions or experiences of this, especially if you found a way to deal with it.

[faramirsonofgondor]

Insane how many TV show characters have incredibly traumatic backstories or go through a shit load of trauma only for the writers to be like “yea and then they became an asshole and ruined all their relationship for no reason whatsoever.” and then they’ll be like “what do you mean that’s so out of character? no it’s not i literally wrote the character.” LIKE YES BITCH and they used to be a GOOD person and friend??? they would do anything for their friends and family??? ANYTHING. they spent eons trying to fit in and they dedicated so much time making sure their family was safe. and now you’re saying that they’re just selfish out of nowhere???

OR EVEN WORSE. when they fucking forgive their abuser for no reason or because their abuser was on drugs or addicted to alcohol. and then they get sober and magically become a better person??? what??? you mean the person who neglected their child??? the person who abused their child??? AND THE SAME CHILD GETS HATED ON FOR BEING RUDE OR EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE AND PEOPLE STILL DON’T TRUST THEM OR LIKE THEM EVEN AFTER THEY MADE CONSIDERABLE EFFORTS TO UNLEARN THE HABITS THEY DEVELOPED TO SURVIVE THE ABUSE THEY WENT THROUGH??? IM SO TIRED OF SEEING THIS HAPPEN IN SO MANY TV SHOWS. LIKE IF IT WAS ONCE OR TWICE I WOULD BE ANNOYED BUT ITS FUCKING EVERYWHERE.

Just to be clear I’m not talking about shows that have established characters perpetuating the cycle of abuse from the beginning, or progressively getting worse over time, because while I don’t necessarily like those plot lines, they can make sense when they’re done right. But I fucking hate it when it comes out of nowhere and ruins all the backstory the character had and goes against all their earlier motivations.

And while I don’t particularly like it in TV shows when a character forgives their abuser, I can understand it when the abuser actually realizes the weight of their actions, doesn’t try to excuse them, and makes efforts to do better. But almost all TV shows where the character forgives their abusers ends up with the one who was abused being labeled as a problem child or too much to handle/too difficult and the abuser gets to be forgiven without any real development or apology or effort.

Like there’s so many different examples of this happening - Jamie & James Sr. from Ted Lasso, Jess & Liz from Gilmore Girls, Buck & his parents from 9-1-1, Shawn & Henry from Psych (I said what I said), like half of the entire MCU, and multitude of other characters. Like all of the kids were emotionally neglected and abused (and sometimes physically as well) and then they “acted out” (they insulted people, were maybe a little bitchy, and acted immaturely) and then somehow them acting out and being immature or eccentric becomes a central point of their character, and other characters are often annoyed or upset with this part of the character. But then the adult who yk, abused their fucking child, is viewed sympathetically by the other characters because they “were having such a hard time” and “were really struggling” while they were abusing their child. And now that their kid is all grown up they “don’t want to have a bad relationship” and “only ever wanted what was best for them, they just didn’t know to how give it to them”. LIKE GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK MAN.

How is it the kids fault they were a bit immature or a bit of an asshole after being abused for their whole life but it’s not their abusers fault for abusing them???? like what the fuck??? Like it makes me sick to my stomach when other characters are like “wow it must have been so hard to raise them” when they literally DIDN’T raise them, they fucking abused them. Don’t even get me started on when they give the abused kid an actual parental figure and the abused kid opens up to them about how hard their life was and the parental figure does their best to support the kid only to turn around and encourage the kid to forgive their fucking abuser. Like what are these writers even on????

Anyways fuck forgiveness for the sake of forgiveness. You don’t need to forgive shit just because your abuser had a sad backstory. Womp Womp for them. Addiction doesn’t excuse abuse. Grief doesn’t excuse abuse. Divorce doesn’t excuse abuse. “Wanting what’s best for you” “being raised in a different time” or being “misguided”isn’t an excuse for abuse. Them having abusive parents isn’t an excuse for abuse. There isn’t an excuse for abuse. You don’t need to (and IMO shouldn’t) forgive an abuser just because they’re at a better or more stable point in their life than they were when they abused you or because they suddenly got FOMO and realized they’re gonna die soon and they don’t want a shitty relationship with you. And if they and other people are pressuring you to forgive them, then they clearly don’t realize the weight of their actions or how serious they were.

[a-sip-of-milo]

Nobody ever understands the affects of reactive abuse until they've experienced it themselves.

It shows particularly well when people would rather blame a child for reacting rather than the adult for abusing them in the first place.

When I was fourteen, my parents held me down to my bed, locked my window so I couldn't escape, took everything they knew I loved away from me (including contact with my grandmother, all my books, my music, all my diaries, etc.) and my step dad threatened to sit in the corner of my room and watch me for the entire night if I tried to escape. All while my three younger siblings watched me.

As a result, I had my first panic attack. It led me to attempting to break my window, smashing my mirror, becoming physically violent towards either of my parents when they attempted to come into my room, and nearly overdosing later that night after everyone had gone to bed.

For years, people ignored what I had gone through to get to that point. My parents had crafted such an elaborate story that painted themselves as the victims of my terrible abuse that nobody thought to question how I reached that point. Not the police. Not my school. Not even over half of my own family believed me. The extent of my suicidal ideations nearly put me in hospital multiple times over the following years, even succeeding once.

Reacting to abuse in this way is a cry for help. It's the equivalent of self-harm in my book, except directed towards others. That's not to say that it's okay, but more people seriously need to start looking at the bigger picture before making assumptions.

This blog is safe for people with NPD, BPD, HPD and ASPD.

[didderd]

lil doodle dump of Nimh, my sona as a dust. (the bottom two doodles are before and after he's allowed comfort.)

they have some lore. not just your typical dust. long lore ramble under cut. (tw: murder. death. manipulation. abuse.)

i figured Gooper would take a lot to become like dust sans, and so they needed a more fucked up backstory.

so normal Gooper. who is from a Fell au. lost their parents at a young age. their parents were taken by the au's Gaster. as shapeshifters, they have a unique set of abilities, and Gaster found interest in that. and as the mad scientist that he is, took them to conduct experiments, hoping to use them for something. but they didn't survive the experiments.

in this timeline/au, some time after, Gooper was found and taken too. they survived the initial experiments, and after Gaster figured he couldn't do what he wanted/he already got that, he decided to continue to make use of them and make them a weapon, making them a royal guard's person.

Gaster made him keep a skeleton form for his neutral form. his excuse being that it's easier to explain to others that he's a relative. but really he just wanted that control over his shifting, and for his 'work' to resemble him. and even now that Nimh's not controlled by him, he has a hard time trying to shift to a different neutral form, out of fear of punishment.

instead of being scattered to the void/code, this Gaster became a fell G!Sans. i'm not sure how, since i don't know the lore behind G!Sans.. but. yeah. things only got worse for Nimh after that. and it might'v even been when G decided to turn him into a weapon.

they still have the glowing crystal necklace that Gooper wears, which i decided was infused with their parents' magic. but. G broke it. and it lost the magic. it doesn't glow anymore, and they don't wear it. but they keep it close. they also have a scrap of paper with their parents' names on it. ripped carefully from paper records of their parents' experiments. in case they forget.

so when the human came around, Nimh was put on the task of dealing with them. their memory of each reset slowly got better, from deja vu, to remembering everything. and as they started to remember every failure at killing them, and every painful death by the hands of the homicidal child, they started to lose it... more than they already had. G would'v already been feeding him LV, handing him monsters he has to kill to get stronger, and they started taking more outside of that till they were killing everyone. including G. once they realized that's an option and how to do it. which they found great satisfaction in every time. for all the things he put them through.

eventually, like dust sans, the human gives up, and Nimh is left in an empty underground.

but dw. he is eventually picked up by a goopy demigod and allowed a chance to heal. :3

[simvanie]

7 Sins Legacy - generation 4 (pride)

Supriya: You were with your friends, weren't you?! Gulshan: What? No! I was at the beach. I just needed some fresh air-

Supriya: Then why can I smell cigarette smoke on you?! You said the reason why you sometimes smell like that is because your friends smoke. Gulshan: Um...

As Gulshan tried to come up with an explanation why he smelled like cigarette smoke, he knew that he couldn't talk his way out of this one.

Supriya: Tell me Gulshan, why do you smell like cigarettes?! Gulshan: I... smoked one.

Supriya: YOU WHAT?! HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND?! You know how bad it is! Where did it go wrong in that head of yours?! Gulshan: No- mom, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I-

Supriya: DO YOU SEE WHAT A BAD INFLUENCE YOUR FRIENDS ARE?! This is not how I raised you! Is this what you want to do with your life? Smoking?! Drinking?! What else? WHAT ELSE GULSHAN?! You need to make something of your life, NOT RUIN IT! Gulshan: I do! I do want to make something of my life!

Supriya: YEAH?! Then tell me, because with your current grades and attitude I can't see it happening! Gulshan: Well... I was thinking about opening my own restaurant when I'm done with school, and-

Supriya: Oh! your own restaurant?! Do you have any idea how many restaurants don't make it? You need to choose something with a future! Why can't you be more like Yasmine, who worked so hard to get accepted into university so she can become a doctor. Or Ravi, who wants to become a lawyer when he grows up. Gulshan: It's not my fault that my interests don't match your expectations!

Supriya: Watch your tone! I'm so done with you! Can't you understand that I want what is best for you?! After all that I've done for you- This is the way you thank me for it? You have no respect for me at all, do you? You better think about your actions if you still want to be my son the next time I catch you doing something like this. Gulshan: Mom... I said I'm sorry. I-

Supria: I am... so disappointed in you. Go to your room. I don't want to see you until dinner.

[purpleflameb0i]

A slightly rushed comic about how some of the headmates need a little reminder from time to time.

-O (he/him)

[ID: A five panel, black and white comic featuring LL and O. LL is a bug, and has a circular head, two wide eyes, no mouth, a cloak, and two antennas. O is a human, and has long fluffy hair, rectangular glasses, a mustache, and a sweater. In the first panel, LL is sitting down. She has tears in her eyes, and a thought bubble next to her says, "It's only emotional neglect and abuse." The second panel shows her still sitting, her eyes slightly closed in sadness. The thought bubble says, "The grooming was only two weeks." The third panel shows her with her eyes closed, and O leaning over at her side. He's looking at her. Her thought bubble says "It was only..." The fourth panel shows O with his hand on LL's shoulder, with LL looking startled; her eyes wide open. O has a speech bubble that says, "Hey." The fifth panel is some text reading, "Your trauma was enough." End ID]

[meeb-motes]

i was the anon asking abt paraphilia emojis and so i was wondering if you could make one for (im going to leave them uncensored) autobiastophilia and bejerophilia (which is an attraction to ones abuser)? /nf

[ drafted post [ Autobiastophilia and Bejerophilia

( :0 woah !! Fellow autobiastophile ?!?!)

requests are open !

-Two

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart Chapter 7

Now on Ao3

18+ MDNI

Chapter 6 Chapter 8 All chapters

TW: dubcon, mentions of past SA (not described), emotional manipulation

Chapter 7 - No Time For Rest  

You spent the remainder of the party excitedly talking with Izou. It was such a wonderful feeling to speak to someone who appreciated what you could create, rather than what your fruit let you do. He was interesting, witty, and had a dry sense of humor  - all qualities that endeared you to him. The two of you bonded over your love of avant garde fashion - though you hadn’t kept up with any trends in several years. You were planning on re-creating his original vision, and were excited to work on it with him. Others tried to change the topic of conversation more than once, but the two of you were undeterred in your conversation about fabrics, thread counts, and textile opacity. Later into the night, Vista came over and draped his large arm over the smaller man’s shoulders. “Sweet, I am going to bed. Care to join? Y/N will be on board tomorrow as well, you can talk to her more then.”  Izou demurred but did decide to go to bed - everyone had work in the morning after all.  

You felt a little bad for monopolizing the Commander’s attention, but it had been so long since you met anyone who shared your passions. Even on your original island there hadn’t been anyone with the same interests. Izou blew you a kiss over his shoulder as he went down to his cabin. You laughed and returned the gesture.

You decided to find some place to sleep for yourself. Though Tate and the other nurses had done nothing wrong, you couldn’t let your guard down enough to sleep around other people. You liked having a wall to your back and always always always needed a source of light and never never never a fully closed door. You walked in the direction of the women’s dorms but took a short detour. If anyone stopped you, you’d just say you were looking for the bathroom. You found a narrow supply closet near the dorms. This was a good enough place until you understood the layout of the ship better. 

No one was in the hall, so you slid open the pocket door, pushed some of the brooms and mops aside, and sat down in the back. You slid the pocket door mostly closed, but still had a beam of moonlight from a window. You curled up into a little ball in the corner, back touching two walls, and rearranged the brooms and mops so they looked undisturbed. You closed your eyes. You couldn’t believe it was just this morning that you found Ace in the bar. Things were changing quickly and you wanted some alone time to think. But rather than thinking, you found yourself drifting off to a fitful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week or so was hectic, but overall enjoyable. The weather was pleasant, with sunny skies and no storms. You were in high demand all over the ship - mostly to fix things but also because a new sibling was always a source of interest. Everyone wanted to talk about your devil fruit power - something that you didn’t understand because you saw one of the Commanders literally turn himself into diamond. Surely that was better than fixing some floorboards.

Overall, you were impressed at the condition the Moby was in. It was no small feat to keep such a large ship running smoothly. But, of course, there was a lot that needed fixing as well. You did end up fixing Oyaji’s chair, and he inclined his head towards you and thanked you. You blushed so hard you thought you’d never return to a normal color.

It seemed every hour another Commander or Captain would come along and ask you to fix something that they needed. You felt like you were being pulled in multiple directions at every turn because so many people needed so much from you. You had already repaired two of the sails, so very many weapons, the exercise equipment, bunk beds, hammocks, endless mugs, sentimental trinkets, log poses, maps, masts..the list went on and on. And as Ace had mentioned, you did spend a lot of time in crawl spaces fixing leaky or broken pipes. It would have been easier if they hadn’t lost half the schematics to the plumbing system, but you could make due.

All the use of your devil fruit power was making you exhausted and tired to the bone. Even though Thatch had you on a special diet to regain strength, you still weren’t at your best. You needed frequent breaks and naps to recharge yourself, but it never felt like enough. You quickly learned where all the closets and storage areas on the ship were. If you were fixing the pipes, sometimes you’d just fall asleep in the crawlspaces.You just tucked yourself away when you needed a snooze and woke up later with no one the wiser. 

When you weren’t fixing things, you were either working on your project with Izou or washing dishes in the kitchens. With over 1,000 people on board, there were always dishes in the sink that needed scrubbing. It was difficult for you to be idle, so you tried to fill all your time with productive tasks. You didn’t mind pitching in, especially since it allowed you to talk in a quieter environment with some of the crew. You had learned a lot about crew dynamics, culture, and lore that way.

You learned even more from Izou. You enjoyed his company greatly and the two of you became fast friends. You did start designing a new kimono for him based loosely on his design from the last. It was mutually beneficial - he was in seventh heaven working with you, and you got to have a new muse. You enjoyed draping fabrics over him as a live model, and he enjoyed being fawned over by a famous designer. The crew expressed their gratitude to you - Izou’s mood had been buoyant for days.

When not designing, pinning, cutting or sewing, you drank tea together as he told you interesting stories. You learned about the crew, their adventures, Whitebeard, and sometimes himself. He did ask you questions about yourself, which you tried to answer truthfully. You weren’t used to people asking direct questions about your life before your island was attacked or what had happened to you on the seas. You dodged some of the questions that were too personal but did divulge some parts of your past. When you didn’t answer, Izou never pressed you and simply moved the conversation along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As time progressed, you weren’t seeing as much of Ace, Marco, or Thatch. They were busy doing their own work and leading their respective divisions. If you were honest with yourself, you were trying to avoid them a little for two very different reasons.

You saw Thatch the most regularly, as he would always come out of the kitchen to give you all your meals personally. He’d sit with you and chat about your day and what you were working on while you slowly ate until you were full. He’d try to get you to eat a few more bites, even when you were sure you were going to pop. He would also find a way to hold your hand or have an arm around you while you ate. Once he even asked if he could feed you on his lap, but you turned bright red at the suggestion alone. 

When you fixed things in the kitchen, he would come up behind you and take ingredients or spices off shelves above you, lightly pressing his front to your back. Or he would “steady you” and hold you upright as he passed through the narrow galley. A few times, when he was behind you, he caged you in with his arms and leaned down to tell you something mundane. You didn’t know what he said with all the blood rushing to your ears from the intimate contact.

It wasn’t just a problem with Thatch, either. It was a growing issue you had with all three of them. They always seemed to want to have a hand on you, get close behind you, or (worst of all) pick you up. You couldn’t count the times that Ace had grabbed you while you were engaged in conversation with someone and hauled you over his shoulder. It always alarmed you and caused you to panic. You tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he would just say that he missed you and that wanted to make sure you were doing OK. He said he was so busy he didn't have time to wait for you to be free. You couldn’t stay mad at his cute face dotted with freckles, could you?

In exchange for being hauled around, he had started showing you how log poses worked after you’d fixed several that his subordinates had broken. He offered to take you out on Striker with him, once you felt comfortable. You wanted to take him up on the offer, since the tiny boat did look fun to ride. 

Marco requested your services more than anyone else. Understandably, he got bumped to the top of the list when he needed you since medical needs were top priority. Sometimes you two worked in tandem, healing lacerations, wounds, and resetting many broken bones. You were happy you got to work expanding your fruit powers, and Marco encouraged you to try increasingly difficult cases. Marco really was an excellent teacher and knowledgeable doctor, you were learning a lot from him. But when he was explaining medical issues to you, he’d often cradle your face in one hand and hold you in place, ensuring you were paying attention to what he was saying. It made you feel uneasy, but the conversations were purely academic or instructional so you didn't say anything.

You were feeling over-touched by them, so you were trying to avoid them, that was clear. But you had another reason you didn't want to see them - you had started to have some romantic feelings for all of them. They were all caring and thoughtful in their own ways. You found them all unbearably attractive - you weren’t immune to their looks and charms. But your growing feelings of sexual  attraction to them stirred mixed and complicated emotions within you.

You hadn’t willingly engaged with anyone romantically in so long that the thought of opening up to new experiences made you want to run and hide. You hadn’t pleasured yourself in years either, due to some…unpleasant experiences you’d had a difficult time getting over. So, even though you felt your sexual desires starting to stir, you didn’t want to confront any of those feelings just yet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marco POV

Things were progressing well with you, he thought. You were quickly being accepted by the crew, who found you equal parts adorable and helpful. You were a pretty little thing bouncing around the ship, brightening everyone’s day. He already had to break quite a few arms (that you so helpfully fixed) to stop others from touching you. You weren’t some sea slag that anyone could have - you were just for him and his two brothers. They had found you and they would keep you, that was the pirate way. If some crew mates needed help remembering that, he would be happy to oblige. 

You still flinched with unexpected contact, but you’d stopped shying away when you saw him leaning in to capture your face in his hands. You had accepted that he would be holding you when he saw fit - at least in the infirmary. He knew Thatch and Ace were making headway as well, getting you used to them being around you and manhandling you. They could take as long as they needed, the main ship wouldn’t be near any islands for at least another few weeks. Not that you’d be getting off board. 

It was around 3 AM that Marco began his day working in his office. He didn’t need as much sleep as everyone else thanks to the Phoenix, which was beneficial given the amount of work he had. It was time to check you out to see if Thatch’s diet was working and you’d gained weight, he mused. You were looking marginally better, but still worn out. He wanted to get to the bottom of your issues - he really did want you to feel your best. He’d make you come in today to see him, not Tate this time. Lost in thoughts of your upcoming visit, he started to prepare everything the infirmary would need that day. As part of the process, he turned the autoclave’s dial on so he could sterilize the scopes, tools, and needles the staff would be using that day.

Instead of the quiet hum he expected, no sound came out. He opened the machine and tried to determine what the issue was, but there was no obvious solution. This was an actual problem. He didn’t just need the tools for your check up and whatever happened with the crew, he needed some of the supplies for Oyaji, too. He could douse them in Phoenix fire, but he wasn’t sure that would work for sterilization. Looks like you were coming into the infirmary earlier than anticipated. 

He walked to the door of the women’s quarters and knocked softly. He didn’t want to wake up everyone, he just needed you. Tate answered the door sleepily in her robe and waited for him to start talking.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. Can you go get Y/N for me? I need her help to fix the autoclave,” Marco said in a hushed tone.

Tate yawned and replied, “she isn’t here.”

Marco was taken aback and responded “what do you mean? Isn’t this her bunk? Where does she sleep then?” 

“I don’t know, I honestly thought she was sleeping with you,” Tate said with a smug smile. “She’s never slept here. She comes in sometimes to get a change of clothes or grab some of her tools, but no one’s ever seen her sleep in her bunk. Tough luck, Marco.” Tate gave him a sarcastic salute and closed the door.

Marco was fuming. If you were in another man’s bed, there would be bloodshed before the sunrise, Marco thought furiously. Where would you be, other than in the women’s dorms? He knew you weren’t sleeping in Thatch’s or Ace’s bed - they would have been crowing for days if you had even stepped foot in one of their rooms. Thatch was still glowing after having been the first to pick you up your first night on the ship. You weren’t sleeping with Izou, Vista wouldn’t have liked sharing any of his private time with his husband. There were no secrets on the ship - no one had claimed to be sleeping with you, he would have heard about it. So where were you?

Marco started searching the ship for you, but kept coming up empty. Marco cringed as he realized he would have to do a dreaded task - waking the Yuda. He would be the only one with enough gathered information to find you, so it was an unfortunate necessity. With that, he knocked on the door to Vista and Izou’s room.

Almost instantly Vista cracked open the door and glared at Marco. For such a large man, Vista could be quick when he needed to be. “What on earth are you doing?” Vista whisper-yelled at Marco. “Do you want to get us all killed?”

Marco grimaced and said “I need to talk to Izou.”

“At this time of the night? No. Leave immediately. If you wake him now he’ll be angry for at least 12 hours, if not longer. And an angry Izou is the most dangerous Izou.”

“I can’t find Y/N, and he’s the only one who can help me. I really need to find her.”

“This is on you, Marco. I won’t take responsibility if he shoots you.” Vista tiptoed back into the room and started quietly speaking to Izou in pleading tones. Marco heard rustling as Vista continued to talk to his husband. The Yuda had stirred.

Izou appeared at the door. If looks could kill, Marco would be dead, Phoenix or not. 

“Speak.”

“I can’t find Y/N. I need her to fix the autoclave for Oyaji’s medical treatment. She’s not in the women’s quarters. I’ve searched the ship but need your help finding her.” Marco hoped adding in the bit about Oyaji would temper Izou’s attitude. 

Izou glared at Marco at length. “Of course she’s not in the women’s quarters, you twit. She doesn’t sleep there.”

“Please, where does she sleep?”

Izou snorted and said derisively “You really don’t know? Fine, I’ll tell you, but only for Oyaji and Y/N’s sake. Y/N keeps erratic sleep patterns. She does not have a set sleeping schedule. She sleeps in short bursts, usually ranging from 45 minutes to 3 hours. She tires easily from her work and often requires rest. She will then try to find a hiding place to sleep before she passes out. The sleep does not seem to aid her stamina. I have never seen her sleep longer than 5 hours at any one time. She wakes extremely easily and is sensitive to noise. She often awakes with a panicked start, I believe from nightmares. She always sleeps sitting up with her back touching at least one wall. She favors sleeping in closets with pocket doors, her most used being the one closest to the second division bunks on the port side. Do not bother me again.” Izou slammed the door in Marco’s face.

Marco was stunned. The information Izou had shared left him reeling. Marco was mentally kicking himself for not keeping a closer eye on your sleeping habits. You were sleeping in closets? With daily nightmares? You were passing out? When was the last time you had a full night of sleep? Why weren’t you taking breaks from working? Why hadn’t you said anything? No wonder you always looked so tired. He could have helped you! Well, since you couldn’t be trusted to tell them the truth, he’d have to force it out of you. No more hiding the truth.

Marco  angrily stalked to your favorite closet. Before sliding open the door, he took a moment to gain a measure of composure over himself. He needed to be calm, collected, and in control for his plans to work.

Based on what Izou said, you were likely already awake after hearing his footsteps. Listening for a moment, he said in a cold and stern tone “Y/N, come out. I know you’re awake yoi.” A moment later, he heard shuffling of things being moved around in the closet, and the door slid open a little more. You climbed out of the closet jerkily and looked up at Marco with a panicked look. Even though to you he looked furious, inside he was excited for what was shortly to come.