Yandere! Damian x Danny
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The Al Ghul’s did not believe in love.
In strength, intelligence, in power — always.
But love is a word, a title to use, to manipulate and create whatever they wished from another.
This is a fact: the Al Ghul’s did not believe in love, nor did they feel it.
But Damian thinks that perhaps this is close to it. This funny little feeling in his chest that burns and aches in a way that leaves him breathless. That funny little feeling in his bones that itches to hold Daniel close until he is rooted into his shape and scent. That funny little feeling in his throat that wanted to bite Daniel until only the scars of his teeth remained and Daniel’s blood spilled and stained with life turned cold.
Damian knows this is love, because what else is this need to possess and hold, and tear every other inch of Daniel apart from this world and make him his own?
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Dream that I had
I only remember about half of the dream itself, nor have a done more than wikiskim ruina, so bare with me for this.
The general gist of it was the idea that X exists within the Library. Namely, in a subterranean floor of it that Angela first sent him to a short time before Roland first step foot in the Library.
Then the game happens and afterwards Angela decides to open the door, because otherwise she'd have that loose end for the rest of eternity.
However! Whilst the first to enter the Library was the X that successfully completed the Seed of Light, there were many more versions of him that came before, versions of him that began manifesting within the Library.
Each and every X from each and every loop or reset over time began to exsist within the Library, with some likening waking up and having to sort books for a reason they don't really get to waking up and having to manage a facility for a reason they don't really get, and promptly got to work.
Others, especially those who had loops cut short due to breakdowns or suicides or the like, did not cope so well. Dying and turning into anything from a paragraph or two to a couple of pages depending on how many days they managed to complete as manager. They would always be brought back shortly, much to their chargrin.
Many, in fact, have less than positive words to say about Angela, though day 50 X never told them about Angela's betrayl since it would make pretty much everything worse almost impressively quickly. Though, the amount each of them knew would vary, influencing their behaviour. The ones who kicked it earlier on would be more biased towards Angie whilst those that had their journeys stopped at Abram would be greif stricken, for example.
Regardless, Angela finds them all and just kind of has to deal with that. I do not have much else to say as most of my day/dreams are mostly just 'hey wouldn't that be fucked or what' with little else.
Have a good day, none of these people are. ^.^
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the furies as an oath
the furies as trapping yourself in the oath you made
the furies as a haunting for breaking an oath
the furies as a punishment for breaking the mores, the customs necessary for living in society
the furies as the misery who befalls those who betray their human rationality for the base desires of vengeance, jealousy and anger
the furies as self-loathing that smothers you in the night the dark
i think people understand the furies as the skills and while i have seen very good reads on that i don't naturally gravitate towards that interpreation. the original name of the game being no truce with the furies makes me think a lot about why one might know the furies and not want a truce.
the furies punish those who break the social contract, or really any other contract, on word and on paper. but the thing is that the contract that we are giving - our position to the Moralintern, the oath taken for the RCM, all the expectations of history, the world having to remain like this? the only way out of this hole we have dug ourselves into is imagining a different way to be, that may not exist within those socially acceptable bounds (see: the plasm being a real thing in elysium, generated by the power of millions of hopes and thoughts of a better world kept in line by capitalist realism).
a truce with the furies, then: keep going as you are. keep working a job that kills you. keep dreaming of the glories past, be it love or easier times. step slowly, with the certainty that someday you might get somewhere but not counting on seeing it in yor lifetime.
if you break this contract, they will despise you. they will hunt you like the animal you are who dares to grieve, and feel anger, and covet a better world, you've lost your humanity and your rationality in rejecting the promises of capital. the furies will haunt you.
r.s. thomas says there is no truce with the furies because the furies are reflected back to you through a mirror, and the tragedy of it all is that all they reflect will only be a part of you, never the whole. you will always look at yourself and be haunted by all the things you did wrong.
elysium, the part of the underworld reserved for the blessed and the fortunate, is surrounded by lethe - the river of forgetfulness the invisible ever-growing invisible odourless Pale devouring the world you know who said that. the clearest water, ever so tempting for the dead who thirst for life that tricks you into drinking more of its waters as you drink, and only if you forgot everything would you be allowed back into the world. wouldn't it be sweet, to leave elysium behind, to forget it all, to no longer be haunted by the furies in the mirror, harry-boy?
but even the clearest water, if deep enough, can drown. and drown you did, and came back to life and met a guy with a mnemosyne, sorry, mnemotechnique, notebook who refuses to forget the past so he can remain in Elysium.
(sorry, sorry, my bad, i just thought, you know mnemosyne like the river of memory that keeps the dead in the underworld and the living capable of lives without oaths to hades, but surely this means nothing)
the only way to stop being haunted by the mistakes of the past is to die - or maybe just to remember and keep living anyway.
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Charles: All due respect, I love you-
Edwin: Don’t you dare say what you’re about to say-
Charles, lying: You know you’re not my type, Edwin.
Edwin, also lying: Well, you’re not my type either!
Charles: Wait, how the fuck am I not your type?
Edwin: Because I like them a little more rugged than you
Charles, offended: I’m rugged.
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