Tumgik
#tw: Intentional PTSD triggering
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
More pages, pages, pages! :D I like how this is turning out so far! :D(Reblogs appreciated!)
2 notes · View notes
silverdragon128 · 3 months
Text
Not me listening to Poison, Respectless, and Stayed Gone on loop (even despite Poison being a little triggering)
10 notes · View notes
peachdues · 10 months
Text
Tell Me to Stop: Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar)
Tumblr media
A/N: oh man, it’s here. This took a lot out of me, so I hope that you all like it.
Part One can be found here: post-Mugen AU where Kyojuro lives; events take place post-Entertainment District.
Multiple POVs (Y/N, Shinobu, and Kyojuro). There are several flashbacks, which are in all italics and separated from the main text.
Massive TW: trauma/PTSD, anger, nightmares, descriptions of corpses, violence and violence between characters (shoving, grabbing/shaking). One character triggers another and it’s dubious whether it’s intentional or not.
CW: 16.7k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), creampies, cursing, light scar worship, intimacy, angst.
For the song that inspired this, listen here.
Without further ado!
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
(Y/N’s POV)
Y/N began her rehabilitation training within one week of awakening from her coma.
For those seven days of rest, Y/N had fielded all sorts of visitors — the Master, escorted by his two daughters; the Love Pillar, who had wasted no time throwing her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and sobbing in relief; and three of the Mansion’s youngest girls, all of whom crawled up on her bed and cried while hugging her.
Uzui had sent her a note by crow telling her he would be by to see her as soon as his wives finished making her favorite treat — red bean mochi — and said they could compare battle wounds in celebration of their feat.
Y/N had neither seen nor heard as much of a whisper from the Flame Pillar.
The Ice Pillar resolved to distract herself from the glaring absence of the man who embodied fire, though every day that passed without word from him only seemed to make that absence more pronounced.
Y/N had thrown herself into her rehabilitation training, as supervised by Shinobu. Because she was a Hashira, her recovery was vastly different from that of lower-ranked slayers, and she worked with the Insect Pillar directly, rather than with the haughty Aoi and other younger Mansion girls.
That particular morning, the Love Pillar had joined them in an effort to recuperate Y/N’s loss of flexibility as the result of the nearly two months she’d spent sedentary. Y/N cherished the one-on-one time she had with the other two women Hashira; the three of them had formed a tight bond with one another since ascending as Pillars, united amidst the predominance of male demon slayers.  
“Good! Now just bend this way-“ Mitsuri Kanroji kept a steady hand at the small of Y/N’s back as Y/N arched over backward, teeth grinding as her stiff spine resisted her movement.
“Almost there! Just touch your other hand to the floor and hold it!” The Love Hashira said encouragingly.
Y/N stretched her left arm over her head as hard as she could. Her fingers had just graced the wooden grain of the training room floor when her body seized, and her legs gave out from under her.
“Oh!” Mitsuri caught Y/N effortlessly before she could crumple to the floor, gently helping her to sit while blushing at the stream of colorful curses that poured from the Ice Pillar’s mouth.  
“This damn wound,” Y/N moaned, her hand pressing against the angry red mark that curved from below her belly button to her right hip. “You would think it would have healed by now.”
Shinobu frowned as she crouched next to the Ice Pillar, fingers lightly prodding at the scar left behind by Upper Moon Six. “It has healed; if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have scarred already.” Shinobu pursed her lips. “Though, I suppose it could just be a residual effect of the Upper Rank’s blood demon art – after all, it was no ordinary blade that he pierced you with, was it?”
Y/N shook her head, though she tried to suppress the memory of the demon’s cursed flesh blade ramming through her back and into her stomach. “The blade was his conduit for his blood demon art – but I think it was made from him.”
“How often does it hurt, Y/N?” Mitsuri asked, rubbing soothing circles on her friend’s upper back. Mitsuri was one of the few people Y/N knew who preferred to give physical comfort, and Y/N was grateful for it.
Y/N furrowed her brows in thought. “In a way, there’s always just this dull ache I feel, though it becomes sharper whenever I move a particular way.” Y/N pulled at the band of her uniform bottoms in discomfort. “And, it doesn’t help that these damn pants chafe and rub against it. I’ve even foregone the belt, and it still feels like they’re cutting into me.”
Mitsuri hummed in thought. “Have you considered one of the uniform skirts? They sit a little higher on the waist, so they’re less likely to aggravate it.”
Y/N scowled. “I would rather be stabbed by Upper Six again than request a skirt from that pervert tailor,” she said severely, “Sorry,” she added when she saw the Love Pillar flush with embarrassment.
“Lecherous Corps tailors aside, you may have a good point, Mitsuri.” Shinobu said, eyeing Y/N’s uniform pants in thought. “Y/N, do you mind if I brainstorm some designs for you? I can’t promise whatever I come up with will be suitable for public appearances or assignments, but I might be able to come up with something that will at least keep you comfortable while you heal and build back your strength.”
Y/N smiled as she stretched her legs out, bringing herself into a pose meant to flex her hips. “I’d be grateful for anything you could do, Shinobu.”
The Insect Pillar nodded. “Mitsuri, you know how to sew quite well, do you not? I’m afraid my proficiency with the needle is limited to sewing up wounds.”
The pinkette glowed with enthusiasm. “Yes! I have an entire room dedicated to sewing at my Estate – if you bring by your designs, I’m sure I could put something together!”
Shinobu smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see what I can come up with tonight, and I’ll bring it by in the morning.”
Y/N’s heart swelled at the dedication her two friends showed towards her comfort and recovery. “Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart.”
Shinobu’s smile turned wicked. “Don’t thank us yet, Y/N. You have agility training next.”
Y/N groaned and pulled on her uniform top, buttoning it over her bindings. As a Hashira, agility training meant that she was to meet the Wind Pillar outside of Kocho’s estate where she would endure two hours of having to dodge his relentless attacks. Y/N got along just fine with Shinazugawa – he’d even welcomed her back, and gruffly complimented her work in the Entertainment District – but that did not mean he eased up in his ruthless training.  
By the time the Wind Pillar had dismissed her with a satisfied nod, Y/N had all but limped back to her room, wondering whether she could even summon the strength to bathe after such an arduous day. She almost decided against it, but when her newest scar began to pulse and throb once more, she knew nothing else would soothe it better than the hot water in Kocho’s private hot spring.
Y/N greeted the bowing Kakushi who guarded the entrance to the northernmost wing of the Butterfly Mansion’s hospital as she passed by, and she hoped that Aoi had remembered to restock her room with fresh towels so she could go straight to her bath from her room.
She drew short at the sight of a familiar figure which stood outside of Kocho’s office, leaning against the wall of the small hallway.
“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.
“Y/L/N.” The man who reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, but his familiar, sunny disposition was noticeably absent, his face impassive and his voice detached.
“I am happy to see you in good health.” Rengoku spoke with unnatural formality; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection all those years ago.
--------------------------------------------------------
“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.
“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth. 
“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget what you look like when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.
“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”
Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”
--------------------------------------------------------
“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.
“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.
“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.
A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.
Y/N gingerly took his hand and removed it from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.” 
Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”
Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.
“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.
She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.
------------------------------------------------------
“And I, you.” Y/N responded, her eyes still wide with surprise as she came to a stop before him, maintaining a cautious distance between them.
A pregnant pause followed, and Y/N made to speak once more, but she was cut off by another deep throb from the wound on her lower abdomen, her hand unconsciously flying to press against it as she swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her.   
“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.
Y/N shrugged in a feeble attempt at nonchalance. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”
Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.
“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed, or more uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”
Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.
“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold, just as unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.
“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.
“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.
“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”
She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.
She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.
He had not looked at her once.
-------------------------------------------------------
(Kyojuro’s POV)
Kyojuro’s fists remained clenched the entire journey back to his estate.
He felt disgusted with himself. He felt like a coward.
It had nearly knocked him to his knees to see Y/L/N up and standing and talking because for so long, he had feared he would never again see the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed, or how she tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating — the one that never stayed put in her braid.
But he had not been able to meet her eyes; couldn’t bear to bring himself to try, because he had been terrified of what he would see.
-------------------------------------------------------
Every night for the last two months, he has dreamed of her.
They were not pretty dreams, not like those he had before when he’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she laughed, the two of them living in a monster-free world and at peace.
Now, he dreamt of vacant eyes-tinged blue, unseeing and unblinking and frozen, just like the rest of her. He dreams of iced skin and blood and poison pouring from her mouth and her nose until she chokes, her chest rising once with a final rattle before it falls still.
He dreams of Upper Three, smiling deviously as he aims his fist to deal his final blow, and Kyojuro wrenches his blade down, desperate to finally win.
Only, his blade decapitates Y/N, not the Upper Rank demon and he is helpless to watch her head bounce pathetically to the ground. His hands are covered in her blood, and instead of disintegrating, her body falls uselessly to the side. Human.
As quickly as he kills her, the dream changes. He is in a lively street, filled to the brim with street vendors and women and men offering their services. It is night but the lights of the shops and gambling dens and pleasure houses are so bright that it looks like daytime.
He recognizes her by the back of her haori, and his feet move towards her, relieved to see her amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, her name whispering on his lips. But she turns before he can make contact, and though she looks healthy, her eyes — her eyes are white and unseeing.
I don’t understand, she pleads with him, it doesn’t make sense.
Kyojuro looks around in alarm and they are no longer standing amongst eager entertainment seekers, but among flame and wreckage, the once-ornately decorated stalls now smashed to splinters as fire slowly consumes the skeletal remains of the entertainment district.
He turns back to her right as a blade pierces through her gut, lifting her from the ground before letting her drop.
His hands shake as he reaches for her, desperate to check her wounds, but when she looks up at him, he stumbles back.
She is all wrong. Her skin is mottled and rotting from her face, and her hair is gray and matted. In place of her eyes are black holes, empty and cold.
Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t I go home, Kyojuro?
Please take me home.
Every night for the last two months, he awoke screaming.
------------------------------------------------------
Y/L/N was alive; he knew that. He knew that if he looked at her, he would not see a corpse; but terrifying visuals aside, Kyojuro had not been able to look at her because he knew what his nightmares were telling him.
He’d been responsible for her near death.
If the Kakushi had returned with a box rather than a Pillar, it would have been his fault.
The thought that Y/L/N — his Y/L/N -- had almost obtained her own headstone in the Master’s graveyard had rocked him to his very core, for that had almost become a reality. She had actually died – for the briefest moment – in his arms; and it had been his fault.
Why can't I go home, Kyojuro?
And though Y/N had awoken from her slumber, her corpse still haunted Kyojuro’s dreams.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Y/N’s POV)
Y/N was sprawled on her infirmary floor, preparing her limbs for another day of rigorous recuperation training at the hands of her fellow Hashira.
She stood to stretch her arms and lower back, wincing slightly at the pull of her scar. “Don’t you start,” she warned her body, willing total concentration breathing to dull the persistent ache that threatened to derail her entire day.
Y/N sensed movement near her doorway and knew, without looking, who watched her as she warmed up her aching muscles.
“Uzui retired. It’s time for you to do the same.”
Y/N who had been in mid-stretch, righted herself and blinked at the Flame Pillar. “Pardon?” Both the news of Uzui’s retirement and Rengoku’s words were a shock to her.
“Retire, Y/LN.” Rengoku repeated in that detached manner of his that she hardly recognized. “You helped take down an Upper Rank. You’ve done enough. Let someone else shoulder the burden, now.”
“I see no reason to retire, Rengoku.” Y/N retorted, voice hardening. “And unless and until the Master requests it or I perish, I see no reason to do so.”
Rengoku exhaled harshly through his nose. “You were injured — seriously so.”
“As were you, and yet you seem to have no intention of slowing down.” Y/N said, coolly.
Rengoku’s attention stayed fixed on the garden outside her window. “And I was only unconscious for three weeks. You were out for nearly two months, Y/L/N. That is unheard of and frankly, unacceptable for a Hashira.”
“What is your problem?” Y/N was growing more irritated the longer this inane conversation dragged on, and it wasn’t helping that Rengoku still refused to so much as look her direction, let alone meet her eyes. “Is this about what happened after you brought me here? Kocho told me everything — I’m not mad.”
Rengoku’s shoulders tensed. “It was necessary. Again, I would have done it for any one of my comrades.”
Y/N felt like she’d been slapped.
“You keep saying that, yet you won’t look at me— why?” Her confusion and hurt were beginning to melt into anger. “If I am just another comrade, then you should be able to meet my eyes.”
Rengoku said nothing.
“What Uzui did for me— that was what comrades do,” Y/N continued, her voice growing stronger as her blood grew hotter. “But you? You and I both know you were under no obligation to bring me back from the brink of death the way you did.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Y/L/N,” Rengoku answered after a long moment.
Y/N took a step towards him. “I want to know why.”
“It was necessary.”
Y/N felt like throttling him.
How long had they danced around each other? How many times had they caught themselves staring at the other for a breath longer than normal, had allowed an otherwise friendly touch during a spar linger?
How could he have held her, half nude for hours, putting himself on the brink of death all for the sake of keeping her alive — and then tell her she was the same as any other comrade?
“What are we doing Rengoku -- is this to be our destiny?” Y/N demanded, exasperatedly, her voice hard. “We continue to pretend like we don’t care about one another until one of us dies?”
Rengoku remained silent, back still turned away from her.
“We’ve each had a near-death experience in a matter of months,” Y/N continued, throat working hard to keep her voice steady despite the telling burn of angry tears in her eyes. “By all accounts, one if not both of us should be dead.”
“And yet, somehow, you expect me to act as though the fact you carried me back here— that you put yourself on death’s door to keep my heart beating — doesn’t mean anything?”
It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense for him to fight so hard for her, to make her believe that someone valued her life that much, only to cast her aside.
She hadn’t wanted to wake up, initially; she’d felt relief for the hair’s breadth she’d thought she’d finally met her end. He was the one who dragged her back, and now he wouldn’t even look at her.
It didn’t make sense.
Y/N’s fists shook beside her, and she felt the venomous words fly from her mouth before she could stop them.
“You should’ve let me die.”
No sooner had she let the poison drip from her mouth had she felt herself flying backward, back slamming against the nearest wall of her temporary room.
“Never,” Rengoku snarled at her, his arm pressing firmly against her shoulders to hold her in place against the wood. “Never say those words to me again.”
Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she trembled beneath him, her fury threatening to explode out of her.
“There is no place on this earth where you could be in peril and I would not find you,” he said quietly, his eyes a simmering, fiery orange. “Where I wouldn’t find a way to bring you back home.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said softly, breath still coming hard from her nose but no longer from her anger.
“Doesn’t it?” Rengoku was close, dangerously close.
Y/N wanted nothing more than to lean in, to close the distance that barely existed between Rengoku’s face and hers and finally be done with all the nonsense. But he had spent so much time avoiding her gaze until that moment, and Y/N felt more lost than ever, set adrift by the look of heat and longing that was mixed with the burning rage in his eyes.
Something tugged incessantly at her gut and it would not allow her to move from her place against her recovery room’s wall.
Instead, her arms came up to rest against Rengoku’s chest before gently, but firmly, pushing him away.
“No, it doesn’t.” She repeated. “And I am tired, Rengoku.”
The Flame Pillar allowed himself to be pushed away, but he looked at her with a small, cruel smile.
“Then you’re right; it doesn’t mean anything at all.”
She flinched against the ugly slap of his words. Y/N had expected him to hit back, but she hadn’t anticipated his venom to sting as much as it did.
She felt all of the fight within her gutter out, leaving her with nothing but a heavy weight in her chest that she wished she couldn’t feel.
“Y/L/N, I-“ the Flame Pillar almost sounded remorseful.
“Thank you, for your clarification, Lord Rengoku,” she said numbly, formally, parroting his earlier tone with her. “And thank you for your assistance that night. Please, next time — don’t trouble yourself.”
Rengoku hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for her. He swallowed hard, and turned away, shutting the door to Y/N’s infirmary.
The moment the door at clicked shut, Y/N exhaled harshly, stumbling back against her bed as she hugged her arms around herself, and she tried to keep herself from falling apart.
It shouldn’t have hurt this bad. They were both in the Demon Slayer Corps; they saved strangers all the time without it ever meaning anything other than good will and a desire to exterminate all demons.
So why did his insistence that she was no different hurt so badly?
Because she wasn’t a stranger.
Because, while she’d always known she wasn’t his, she’d still thought she’d been something.
As Y/N curled against her blanket, an unsettling numbness began to spread from her heart, quieting even the dull ache from the scar across her belly, Y/N realized that she’d meant nothing to the Flame Pillar all along.
-------------------------------------------------------
(Kyojuro’s POV)
He hated himself.
He utterly and truly despised himself.
He’d been hurt by her insistence that she did not know his feelings even though he was the one who’d opened the door, yet somehow, it still felt like a rejection.
So he’d hit back, only for her to visibly recoil at the sharp blow of his words.
He would not forgive himself, for as long as he lived, for the way the light in her eyes had winked out.
He did not know what bothered him more: the fact that she’d assumed that he regretted keeping her alive, or that she’d said “next time” he needn’t bother. As though she were counting on there being a next time.
He knew he should turn around; knew that he should barge back into her hospital room, drop to his knees, and beg her to forgive his cruelty.
He knew that he should explain to her why he found it so difficult to admit his feelings for her — that he had watched his father turn into a shell of a man and abandon his children in the wake of their mother’s death, leaving them to raise themselves. That he had vowed, as he’d watched his father drink his days away, that he would never be like him, would never abandon those who relied on him most.
He’d promised that he would never be a coward, even if, in all honesty, the idea that he, Kyojuro, could ever love someone that fiercely only to have them ripped from his grasp terrified him to no end.
As he forced his legs to carry him to back to his estate, Kyojuro wondered if perhaps, in his desperation not to turn into his father, he’d become the old man after all.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Shinobu’s POV)
Shinobu felt the Flame Pillar’s presence in her office before she saw him, though she was in no rush to give him his salve, especially not after what she’d overheard him spit at her friend.
“If you do not mind, I would like to send my crow to collect this from here on,” Rengoku said tightly, and Shinobu could sense his failing attempt to keep his fury in check.
“Very well then,” the Insect Pillar responded just as tersely, turning away from the papers and books on her desk to pull out the small tin containing the salve the Flame Pillar used to soothe the ache of the scar he now bore across his pectoral and shoulder. Rather than handing it to him, she tossed it through the air, the Flame Hashira catching it swiftly in his hand.
Rengoku nodded his thanks and turned to leave.
“I didn’t realize it was against Corps’ rules to care about our comrades,” Shinobu said icily, if not to signal to him that there had been spectators to his ugly outburst.
He couldn’t resist taking her bait. “Maybe it should be. It would be easier that way — for everyone.”
“Is that so?” Kocho sneered, no hint of familiarity or kindness in her features; nothing but that poisonous, deadly smile. “Well, if that was the case, then you would’ve preferred Uzui to leave Y/L/N for dead among the rubble in Yoshiwara, correct?
“You would rather us be searching to fill the newest Hashira vacancy, with her corpse barely cold in the ground-“
“Do not say another word, Kocho.” Rengoku warned, quietly.
But for Shinobu, anger was her vice, and so his warning only spurred her on.
“Tell me, Rengoku, if the new Pillar had been a woman, would you have held her the way you held Y/N?”
Shinobu’s smile was chilling as she relished the way the Flame Pillar began to tremble. “Or perhaps, would you finally confess to her, having learned your lesson from the missed opportunity with Y/N? Would you live out your days with her, while Y/N rotted below the earth, having never known someone loved her?”
“ENOUGH.” Rengoku roared, and for a moment, Shinobu thought the Flame Pillar might put his clenched fist through her wall. The silence that followed was tense and long as Rengoku struggled to calm his breathing.
“What do you want from me, Kocho?” Rengoku finally snapped, wheeling around to glower at the Insect Pillar, eyes half-crazed in his frustration.
------------------------------------------------------
(Two months earlier)
Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.
Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.
Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.
With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.
But her hypothermia persisted.
Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.
“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”
The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.
Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.
Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”
That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in some sort of acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.
He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.
Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.
He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the rest of the recovery ward.
Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.
“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.
Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the headboard so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.
Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku made to move again.
He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.
Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.
Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself, and once she was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on Y/N’s shoulder, opposite of where she’d rolled her head.
To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply engaged in an intimate moment, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.
Shinobu moved to place the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.
“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”
Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.
-------------------------------------------------------
Shinobu raised her chin, looking down her nose at him in disgust. “I’m waiting for the man who would have set the world ablaze to save Y/N to reappear.”
She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m waiting for the man who used his own body as her lifeline, and who tried to smash open the infirmary door when he was delirious with fever because he thought that she had died while he was asleep.”
The Insect Pillar’s masked smile finally slipped from her face and her true rage towards the Flame Pillar shone through. “It is cruel to make her feel as though she’s done something wrong,” Shinobu’s arms folded across her chest. “And it is cruel to you both for you to pretend as though she does not mean anything to you. Haven’t you both been through enough? Are you not exhausted as well?”
A tortured look passed over Rengoku’s face. “It is better this way, Kocho. I do not want to be the cause of her pain, and I cannot survive going through what happened to her again.
“For all your talk about either of you dying, I’ve yet to hear you mention the equal alternative,” Shinobu sighed, gathering her papers and books. “The one where we win and you both live. What do you suppose happens then?”
Rengoku said nothing and so, Shinobu continued. “Suppose we emerge victorious – would you truly prefer for you and Y/N to go your separate ways – to never see one another again, or never acknowledge the bond the two of you share?”
“There is no guarantee that either of us survives, Kocho,” Rengoku said quietly, his eyes falling to his feet.
Shinobu smiled but it was no longer cruel or bitter; it was wistful. “And there is no guarantee that either of you die. That’s the fickle nature of humanity, is it not? The very reason we fight?”
The Insect Pillar gathered her papers and stacked them neatly on her shelf. “For the possibilities of it all.”
--------------------------------------------------------
The sun was high in the sky by the time Shinobu had a moment to check on the two unconscious pillars in the back room.
Uzui had required quite a bit of attention in order to stop the poison from becoming deadly, though the fact that her combination of the wisteria antidote with the amphetamine had been so effective on Y/N meant that Shinobu was able to administer the same to the Sound Pillar in half the time.
She was exhausted; the strain of the night’s events weighed heavily on her, but she had to check on Y/N’s temperature — if the Ice Pillar still had not recovered, she feared that hope was lost.
She pushed the door to the private infirmary room open and saw the two Hashira, still in the same position she’d left them in. Rengoku was deeply asleep, no doubt from the exhaustion wrought by his high fever.
Enclosed within his arms, Y/N remained unconscious but pink.
Shinobu felt the relief course through her, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached out a hand to lightly pinch the Ice Pillar’s cheek.
It bloomed red beneath her fingers, and it was warm to the touch.
He’d done it. The Flame Pillar had staved off her hypothermia. Their only obstacle now lay in getting her to reawaken.
Shinobu laid her hand across Rengoku’s forehead, frowning at the scorching heat of his brow; his fever had worsened more than she’d anticipated, and he would need intervention soon. She turned to nod at the Kakushi who waited by the door to the recovery room, and the three of them moved to separate the Flame and Ice Pillars.
“Put him in one of the other single-recovery rooms. Tell Aoi to administer the fever medication I keep in my cabinet – it should dispel his fever within a few hours.” Shinobu ordered, as the Kakushi, with great effort, lifted the Flame Pillar from his position behind Y/N. Shinobu gently eased her friend down against the bed and pulled a blanket over her exposed torso. “I will also need a fresh hospital gown for Lady Y/L/N.”
The Kakushi nodded their assent and got to work, heaving the unconscious Flame Pillar towards the door when he awoke. At first, his eyes were dazed, and confused as they darted around him, but as he took in his surroundings, he began to struggle against the grip of the Kakushi.
“Please, Lord Rengoku, your fever is dangerously high! Allow us to help!” One of them cried, though his efforts to tug the Pillar away were futile. Shinobu supposed the only reason he had not yet succeeded in completely throwing them off was the fact that his fever had severely weakened him.
“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sternly, coming around from her position by Y/N to meet his eyes, though he only thrashed harder against the Kakushi as he began to mutter incoherently under his breath. “Rengoku, that’s enough. You’re safe. You’re in the Butterfly Mansion, and you have a high fever. Please, let the Kakushi do their job.”
But the Insect Pillar’s words fell on deaf ears as Rengoku began to hyperventilate, his muscles straining as he tried desperately to break free from the Kakushi’s hold. Shinobu was at a loss; her comrade did not merely look frantic – he looked terrified, desperate, and utterly beyond reproach or reason. His heart rate had spiked considerably, and his breath was jerky and uneven, as though he could not fully understand where he was or that he was amongst friends.
As she strained to make out what the Flame Pillar repeated, over and over, under his breath, Shinobu realized that his eyes were not unfocused at all; they were locked on the unconscious Ice Pillar in the bed behind her.
“I can still save her!” he roared.
It all made sense then.
Shinobu realized that he thought they were moving him not because he’d successfully thwarted her hypothermia, but because he had failed — and that she was now dead.
“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sharply, trying to force the irate and delirious Flame Pillar to meet her eyes. “Rengoku, Y/N is alive. Her body temperature has returned to normal. She is safe.”
But the Flame Pillar seemed not to hear her, as he only struggled harder against the Kakushi desperately trying to usher him out of Y/N’s room.
Rengoku was becoming more violent, even as the Kakushi finally managed to shove him through the doorway of Y/N’s room. Just before they’d managed to slam the door shut, Shinobu caught Aoi’s eye and nodded, the younger girl quickly disappeared into the Pillar’s office.
Shinobu watched in stunned silence as the Flame Pillar broke free from the Kakushi and began hurtling his body against the door, Y/N’s name falling from his lips in an anguished chant.
Rengoku was so delirious in his fevered panic that he did not notice Aoi slip behind him and plunge a syringe into his neck, depositing a thick stream of the clear liquid that Shinobu knew would have a near-instantaneous effect on his consciousness.
The Insect Pillar felt a strange sense of pity and remorse as she watched her friend slump to the floor outside of the infirmary room, a final cry out for the Ice Pillar falling from his lips before the sedative lulled him back to sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------
(Kyojuro’s POV – three days later)
He didn’t know why he’d returned to the Butterfly Mansion.
Kyojuro tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to wait for his crow to return with Kocho’s salve, but he knew it was a pathetic excuse. He’d sworn to himself that he would leave Y/L/N alone after their last argument. He’d vowed that the door between them had been closed for good, and they would only ever be colleagues. Nothing more.
But he couldn’t stay away. Perhaps it was because he’d spent the last few days stewing over their last argument, and somewhere, amidst his endless supply of self-hatred, he’d also grown angry with the Ice Pillar.
Angry, because she had put herself in harm’s way when he’d specifically told her not to.
Angry because she’d nearly died, and she’d threatened to take the last vestiges of his sanity with her to the afterlife.
Angry that she insisted on remaining in the Demon Slayer Corps despite having given more than enough of herself to their cause; angry that she didn’t understand why he couldn’t yet do the same.
Angry because she didn’t seem to understand his feelings at all.
Perhaps in another life, they could have had each other. Had they both been born into a world without demons, then maybe they would have still found each other and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to love her the way she deserved.
But for Kyojuro, their relationship would always be defined by a series of maybes, and nothing more.
--------------------------------------------------------
It would have been a lie for Kyojuro to say he’d not been struck dumb by her.
She was stretched out on the steps of Kocho’s engawa, legs dangling off the edge of the porch as she leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed dreamily as she kept her face tilted up towards the cooling night air.
Long, lean, bare legs, he realized, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his collar. He couldn’t help running his eyes up their length, fixating hard on the supple curves of her thighs.
Why were her legs bare?
She looked…so unguarded this way. Her haori was draped around her shoulders, one of its sleeves hanging loosely to the side and exposing her bare shoulder – how exposed was she, the idiot – and her hair was completely unbound, falling in a silken river to her waist.
It was a stark contrast to the braided crown she wore at the base of her neck. It hit him that, not counting the night she’d nearly died, he had not otherwise seen her with her hair down.
He liked it. A lot.
“I finally rid myself of one migraine only for another to appear,” Y/N’s lofty voice snapped him out of his reverence, as the Ice Pillar opened her eyes to glare at him. 
“If you’ve come for Shinobu, she is not here. She’s on an errand and will not be back until early morning.” Y/N turned her attention away from him and back towards the garden, her voice stony.
At that moment, there were a million things Kyojuro could have said to the Ice Pillar.  
How are you?
I missed the way you glare at me.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Any of those options would have been far better than what came tumbling out of his mouth.
“I hadn’t realized you were indecent. My apologies.”
Y/N’s head snapped back to him, her eyes chips of ice. “Indecent?” She rose from her seat on the engawa and faced him fully, and Rengoku nearly groaned.
Indecent, indeed.
Y/N was showing more skin than Kanroji did on a regular day. As she stood, Rengoku saw that she was hardly wearing any clothing at all, save for the haori draped loosely around her frame.
The Ice Pillar wore no top but the bindings around her chest, leaving a sizeable swath of her midriff exposed to the summer air. Whatever she wore as bottoms could hardly be labeled as “pants,” given that their hem ended just short of the middle of her thigh, leaving the vast majority of her legs exposed to anyone who would happen to walk by.  
The Flame Pillar felt as though he were overheating, and he tugged uselessly at the collar of his uniform shirt. As he looked over the scowling Ice Pillar, Rengoku found himself unable to remember why he had come to the Mansion at all.  
------------------------------------------------------
(Y/N’s POV)
(Earlier that day)
“Ta-da!” Mitsuri sang as she pulled the small bundle from behind her, a grin wide on her face. “A gift from Shinobu and myself!”
Y/N peered down quizzically at the small, folded bunch of cloth in the Love Pillar’s hands. “What is it?”
“A new take on the Corps’ uniform,” Shinobu replied crisply, sitting down on the tatami floor of her office. “I designed it myself, and Mitsuri sewed it.”
“But what is it?” Y/N pressed.
Mitsuri joined Shinobu on the floor. “Your new training pants. Altered, so that you have more flexibility and less irritation against your wound.”
Y/N held up the tiny scrap of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “Are you telling me these are pants?”
Mitsuri and Shinobu nodded, smiling.
Y/N looked incredulously at the two women. “But where are the pants?”
Mitsuri laughed. “Think of it as a cross between the uniform skirt and pants, but more modified.”
Shinobu nodded. “I used the same material that our uniform is made out of but designed it in a way to be more flexible – it will mold to your body rather than require you to use a belt to keep it up.” Y/N unfurled the cloth and gaped down at it. “They likely aren’t suitable for public, but around here and during your training, they should be perfectly adequate.”
“Perfectly adequate?” Y/N repeated, turning the garment over in her hands. “Shinobu, these are underclothes! Not pants!” The Ice Pillar could not stop herself from giggling. “My legs will be entirely exposed!”
“Try them on!” Mitsuri urged. “Shinobu and I estimated they would hit around mid-thigh, so you’ll still have some coverage.” Mitsuri looked down at her own skirt in consideration. “Slightly more so than I do.”
Y/N groaned but removed her uniform pants and slid into her friends’ gift. She was surprised at how comfortable they felt; they had a similar feel to the chest bindings most of the women in the Corps wore, in terms of fit. The black bottoms had no true waistband, but fit snuggly at the dip of her waist, before hugging her hips and thighs until the hem cut right above the middle of her thigh.
“How do they feel?” Shinobu asked as Y/N inspected the new garment.
Y/N turned from side to side, testing their flexibility. “Good. They don’t seem to rub against the scar at all.” Y/N smiled devilishly at her friends. “Even if they do leave little to the imagination.”
MItsuri giggled. “I hadn’t noticed Y/N, but you have – oh, what did Uzui call it?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Oh! An ‘easy and deliverable type of butt!’” The three girls laughed, carefree as Y/N wiggled her hips suggestively in front of her friends, her heart warm at the care and consideration they had put into their gift.
------------------------------------------------------
Y/N mused that Mitsuri’s assessment of how she looked in the undershorts had been correct as Rengoku’s eyes raked over her as she stood tall before him, an unmistakable glint of hunger glowing in his amber pools.
Until they snagged on the thick, curved gash that extended from the band of her bottoms to just over her belly button.
In an instant, simmering fire of the Flame Pillar’s gaze had been snuffed out, something harder and colder taking over as he glared at where Upper Moon Six had buried his poisoned sickle within her.
Under any other circumstance, Y/N might have felt self-conscious at the mixture of frigid contempt that pulled on Rengoku’s face as he ran his eyes over her scar, but at that moment, it only made her blood boil.
“You should return to your room. You shouldn’t be out here exposed like this.” Rengoku said after a moment, his eyes moving away from her to stare over her shoulder, resolutely avoiding her gaze.
Y/N wondered briefly if it were possible to make someone combust with the fire of their stare. She was so tired and so angry at the way in which he demanded she stay at arm’s length yet felt utterly entitled to boss her around.
She decided then that she would not comply. Instead, Y/N took one step and then another, and again until she pushed past him, marching intently up the path she knew led away from the Butterfly Estate and to a secluded, grassy, hilled clifftop.
“Stop — Y/L/N” Rengoku growled, lunging after her, but Y/N, despite her injured state, was still faster than he, and she twisted out of his grasp before he could grab her and haul her back to the Mansion.
She probably looked insane, and maybe she was -- barely dressed, hair unbound, and striding towards that grassy hill up the winding path from Shinobu’s estate like she had any idea what she was doing.
The Flame Pillar followed.
—————————————————————--------
Apart from her close friendship with the Insect Pillar, there was another reason Y/N spent so much time in and around the Butterfly Mansion — its view.
Though she supposed this secret area she’d discovered couldn’t really be counted as part of Shinobu’s Estate — it was, after all, up a rather steep and twisting climb from the western-most point of her friend’s manor, and one could scarcely see the lights of the house once they ascended the small cliff.
Her thighs ached after nearly two months of disuse as she stormed up the steep incline, narrowly avoiding the sharp, twisting branches of the ancient trees that had concaved over the beaten path, forming a tunnel of gnarled wood that forced her to duck her head to navigate.
Y/N’s chest tightened as she neared the end of the path, the steady beat of the Flame Pillar’s footsteps trailing closely behind her.
When she finally emerged from the thicket of branches, she felt as though she could breathe again.
The path had given way to a cliff-top clearing. Soft, emerald grass covered the earthen floor, peppered with various wildflowers in vibrant hues of periwinkle, white, and pink. Towards the center was a thick, ancient oak tree, with a trunk as wide as a small hut, Its leaves ruffled lazily in the slight summer breeze. Fat hotaru floated idly above the grass while the crickets hummed.
The clearing extended to a point before dropping into a rocky cliff. Had it been a night of a new moon, Y/N would never risk coming out here for fear of stumbling too close to the cliff’s edge. But that night, the moon was full and its silver light was so bright that Y/N could see all the way to the opposite of the clearing, down to the summer irises swaying in the warm night air.
It was a pity that instead of feeling the warm serenity she normally had when she came out to her little hideaway, she felt nothing but boiling anger and a growing headache.
“You need to go back inside,” Rengoku said from behind her. Y/N ground her teeth, turning sharply on her heel to face him.
“Why do you care — I thought you only did that when I’m unconscious.” She bit back, and it felt good to see him be the one who flinched for once. “Or maybe it’s when you think I’m dying?”
She laughed, derisively. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve long since forgotten the rules of your game. You change them so often, you see.”
“Go back to the Butterfly Mansion, Y/L/N. You shouldn’t be out here. Not in your current state.” He said, voice as hard and unforgiving as stone.
“I’ve told you already that you are not in a position to order me around!” Y/N snapped, her words and her eyes chips of ice as she glared at him.
He was so infuriating — he had told her, in so many ways, that she meant nothing to him, and yet here he was, glowering at her as though her very existence incensed him.
“You’ve been nothing but unkind to me since I awoke, and you’ve given me no explanation!” She took a step towards him.
“Stop,” the Flame Pillar bit out, barely concealing the way he trembled with rage. “Do not take another step. Turn around and go back inside.”
If Y/N had looked pissed before, she looked downright furious now.
“Why did you come to see me while I was unconscious?” Y/N demanded, shaking. “You came every day, yet the second I wake up, you stop?”
His refusal to answer her, to even look at her, only made her seethe.
“You’re a coward, Rengoku.”
Rengoku’s teeth gnashed together, his fists balling tightly by his sides as he drew upon every ounce last shred of sanity, of restraint, left within him.
“Go. In. Side.” He ground out dangerously, his voice dropping into a growl on the last syllable.
But the Ice Pillar took another step towards him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could outburn his own.
“No.”
Rengoku’s jaw flexed. “Y/L/N-“
“I said no, Rengoku.” She was now within arm’s reach of the rigid Flame Pillar.
His eyes met hers, cold and hard, but she did not balk. She went in for the kill. “You have no say over my choices when my life is meaningless to you.”
Y/N watched the blow land, and land hard.
“Meaningless?” Rengoku looked at her and there was a new fire in his gaze, a hot, angry fire that threatened to burn the grassy overlook around them to cinders. “You believe I think your life is meaningless?”
This time, it was Rengoku who advanced towards her, bringing her within an arm’s length, and forcing her to tilt her head up to hold his raging stare.
“Do you have any idea — any at all — what it was like to see you, half dead in Uzui’s arms?” Rengoku’s voice dark, and harsh as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or what it was like to have to carry you to Kocho, not knowing whether your heart would give out before I could get you there?”
Y/N refused to cower beneath the intensity of his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. “Do I know what it was like?” She hissed; hackles raised.
“Thank you Rengoku, truly — thank you.” Y/N laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. “I am so glad that you’ve finally given me something to work with — so those are your rules, are they?”  She was toe to toe with the Flame Hashira, glowering down at her.
“Well since we’re keeping score, Rengoku, do you know what it was like to see you broken and bleeding out on Kocho’s table after the incident on the train?”
“That’s not the same thing,” Rengoku shot back bitterly.
“How the fuck is it not-?”
“Because it wasn’t your mission to take!” Rengoku finally broke, his voice rising to a shout. He could not stop himself as his hands shot out and gripped Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her lightly in his torment.
“You have no idea how it felt to know that you had died — no matter how briefly — because you went on a mission in my place!”
“To know that — that you could still die because I had been too weak on that fucking train. Your death would have been my fault, Y/N!”
----------------------------------------------------
(Kyojuro’s POV)
And there it was: the truth that he had tried so hard to suppress, laid flat out in the open.
Everything that had happened to Y/N, the whole entire mess — had been entirely his fault.
His fault because he had been too weak to finish off Upper Moon Three, too weak to do anything but let the demon’s punch a hole through his chest like it was nothing.
Y/L/N and Uzui had saved themselves in the end; they’d completed their mission, defeating not just one, but two upper ranks. They hadn’t succumbed to their injuries until after they’d fulfilled their duties.
But him? He’d only been saved by the grace of the sun and the tireless efforts of the Kakushi.
He’d nearly lost his life and he had nothing to show for it. Rather than do anything to further the Corp’s ultimate goals, he’d only set them back, and nearly cost them something priceless in return — their Ice Pillar.
The woman he loved.
He had no right to love her, of course — not when his reprehensible weakness had forced her to be offered up to two upper moon demons on a silver platter.
She’d been there, the morning he awoke from his three-week-long coma. She’d been right by his bedside, a sob choking from her throat as she’d called for Kocho to come quick!
At first, he’d been confused, because he hadn’t understood why she was crying. He’d tried to reach for her, to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks when the pain had slammed into him, causing him to seize, arm suspended in mid-air.
Never before had he not been in control of his body; it had sent him into a panic.
“No, Kyojuro, please don’t move!” Y/N had cried, calling him, for the first time, by his given name. a warm hand wrapping around the one he’d stretched out towards her, lowering it gently down to the bed. “Your injuries are too grave!”
He didn’t remember much after that, only what Kocho had filled him in on later — namely, that he’d begun to panic, his breathing flaring out of control as he’d tried to fight off Y/L/N, a Kakushi, and the Insect Pillar.
His recovery had been long and slow. His wounds from the Upper Three demon had resulted in significant muscle damage that had required weeks of intensive care and training in order to build it back up again.
Those long days spent at the Butterfly Mansion had given him time to stew; to rage against himself. He’d been frustrated, so unbelievably frustrated over his inability to swing his own sword for more than five minutes that he almost considered giving in and retiring.
And then Uzui arrived, and he’d mentioned an upcoming mission to the Entertainment District, that they had discussed prior to Kyojuro leaving for the damned train, and the Sound Pillar revealed that his intel suggested the possible presence of an Upper Rank.
Kyojuro had promised to accompany him, and then he’d woken up in Kocho’s hospital, and that mission had been taken off the table and given to her.
The panic he had felt had been indescribable; he had narrowly survived an encounter with an Upper Rank, but then he was forced to watch the woman he loved walk straight into the wolf's den, and he had been incapable of convincing her to stay behind.
While she had been gone, he had railed against and prayed to and cursed at the gods, begging them to bring her home, to let her come back to him alive and whole.
Instead, they’d sent her back as a near-corpse and had laughed at his pitiful attempts to save her.
And then, she had straddled that narrow divide between life and death for nearly two months, and he had been as helpless as a cat chasing a string — his desire forever in sight yet somehow always just beyond his reach.
After his brush with death, he’d made a commitment to himself not to think of his battle with the Upper Three demon, to not waste his skill and energy on the past, but rather focus his fury on ensuring that when they did meet again, he would emerge victorious. He’d certainly not given any thought to the demon’s slime-tongued words.
He’d been disgusted when the demon had propositioned turning him into its like — and outright offended that those creatures could ever compare to the beautiful transience of humanity.
But then he’d cradled Y/N, broken and dying in his arms, and for the first time, Kyojuro had understood the appeal of the Upper Three’s offer.
Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.
The very thought had shaken him to his core; because it meant he was not fully dedicated to their cause. He had no right to call himself a Hashira; nor did he have any right to claim to love Y/L/N. Not when he’d so easily damn her out of his own selfishness. So he had run.
A coward, after all.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Y/N’s POV)
Y/N was panting, her fury rippling off her in near-tangible waves.
“So, this whole thing,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “Your whole fucking attitude — has been because you’ve had your head so far up your ass, that you thought my injuries were your fault?”
It was unbelievable. It was ridiculous. And yet it was so Rengoku that it made her ears ring, made her see red as she tried to keep herself from imploding.
Rengoku said nothing, but she could see the way his eyes shuttered closed, his walls flying back up as he remained intent on keeping her out. He turned and began walking back towards the path back to the Estates.
“I was right — you ARE a coward!” She shrieked after him.
He froze. She stood there, heaving, daring him to turn around, to face her.
“Do not call me a coward again,” he said quietly, his back still to her, but his shoulders tensed, his fists balling once more at his sides.
Y/N smiled ruefully. “Then exactly what would you call what you’re doing now?.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Run away, Rengoku. It’s what you do best.”
A flash of orange and white clouded her vision as Rengoku turned on his heel and closed the distance between them before she could draw another breath.
Y/N did not have time to react before his hands gripped either side of her jaw as he slammed his mouth down against hers, furious and heated.
It was not gentle; it was an angry clash of lips and teeth, but it also stoked a fire so hot in Y/N’s belly that she did not care, and she fully gave herself over to the bruising press of his lips against hers. She gladly opened up to him so that his tongue could slide into her mouth as one of his hands snaked behind her head to press her harder to him, demanding that she let him take and take until he was sated.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. They broke apart with a gasp, leaping back from one another as though burned. Their chests heaved as they stared at one another.
There was a line drawn in the sand between them. If either of them crossed it, there would be no going back.
He was a coward, but she wasn’t. And she’d grown tired of this tedious dance of theirs.
Yet it surprised her all the same that he reached for her at the same time she moved for him, the two of them colliding like magnets as their mouths clashed together once more.
Rengoku kissed her like he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.
Y/N threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down closer to her, determined to take from him as much as he wanted to take from her.
The pair of them stumbled back against the ancient oak tree that sat back from the grassy cliff, Y/N caged against its bark by the Flame Pillar.
His hands gripped fistfuls of her haori as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or tug her away. His lips devoured each breathy moan he pulled from her as one hand tangled in her hair and pulled, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
She ran her hands through the fiery strands of his hair, gripping and tugging it as he explored her mouth was his demanding tongue. Y/N, emboldened by the way his fingers dug into her haori, let her hands roam from his hair and to his neck, and then to the rocky planes of his broad chest before settling on his hips as she tugged him flush against her. 
His control was slipping, and fast. “Y/L/N, I can’t- I won’t be able to hold back.” Rengoku moaned into her mouth, his hands scrunching the fabric of her haori, his fingers desperately seeking to hold her closer to him. “Tell me to stop, Y/L/N.”
Y/N’s hands only buried deeper into his hair, tugging him harder against her as she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth between breaks for oxygen. “Never stop, Rengoku.”
Y/N pulled back from him, just enough to unlatch his hands from where they were buried in the back of her haori, and moved them inside its folds, right on her bare waist.
The burning weight of his hands felt exquisite.
Rengoku shuddered as he felt the smooth, soft dips of Y/N’s waist, his fingers digging into her flesh as he sought to touch more of her, his hands running across every inch that was not covered by her bindings or those glorious undershorts.
Lips still moving furiously against hers, Rengoku bent slightly to run his hands down the silken expanse of her thighs, gripping under her knees before hoisting her up to carry her away from the tree and lay her down in the velvety grass below.
Y/N felt as though she were on fire. The ache between her legs was almost maddening, and she was desperate to have the Flame Pillar sheathe himself inside her, to make her forget even her own name.
If she could not have his love, she could at least have this.
Her hands dragged down Rengoku’s front, coming to a rest at his belt before she began fumbling with the clasp. Y/N had just managed to undo it when Rengoku’s hands — large, warm, and much stronger than her own, wrapped around her wrists, stilling her.
“Not yet, you impatient woman,” he smirked against her mouth. He moved one wrist to join the other in his left hand before bringing her arms up over her head, pinning her to the ground.
Y/N whimpered and rolled her hips against his, impatient and demanding, wanting desperately to feel some relief as her core clenched wildly around nothing.
Rengoku chuckled darkly, the rich timbre of his voice causing her blood to nearly boil with her want, as he made his way down her body with his lips.
He first came to her chest bindings, growling in impatience as he nipped at one breast over the tightly wound fabric.
His fingers brushed against her sternum as he ripped her bindings straight down the middle, Y/N shuddering as the warm summer night’s air caressed her sensitive skin, her nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.
She waited for him to lavish her soft mounds, but the Flame Pillar paused, eyes narrowed on the valley between her breasts, right on the pale, lilac mark where he’d plunged Shinobu’s antidote into her heart.
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. He’d reacted poorly to the ribboned scar on her lower belly already, and now her once chance to finally have Rengoku in the way she’d so desperately longed to have him was about to be ruined.
But instead of pulling away from her in disgust, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against it the healed wound.
“I hadn’t realized I wounded you,” he murmured softly, reverently as he kissed it again. Y/N watched in bewilderment as he pressed his ear against her chest, letting his head rest there for a moment.
Listening to her heart hammer against her sternum.
“The sweetest music,” he whispered, pulling away to look at her not with lust but with unbounded tenderness.
Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged, don’t give me hope.
But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed and the esurient flame in Rengoku’s eyes flickered back to life. His lips continued down her abdomen, hot and needy until he reached the source of her near-fatal injury.
His mouth paused at the scar left by Upper Moon Six, the one he’d so callously glared at not even an hour before. This time, he ran his tongue along it, from the top to its base near her hipbone, pressing a fierce kiss against its end before continuing his descent.
“I will either have to thank my old Tsugoku the next time I see her,” Rengoku whispered darkly as he pulled at the soft waistband of Y/N’s undershorts with his teeth. “Or I shall have to burn her sewing room to cinders.” Rengoku’s fingers slid beneath the short hem of her bottoms, pulling them down inch by inch to expose her sensitive flesh.
Rengoku groaned when he saw Y/N was not wearing anything else beneath her scandalous bottoms. “Definitely burning.” His hands, so large and warm ran up the outer curve of her thighs, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Because you are far too tempting when wearing them.”
The Flame Pillar looked wild as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the lower indent between Y/N’s hipbones as he kissed his way down to where she ached the most.
He ducked around the center of her desire in favor of sucking softly on her inner thigh. Y/N’s chest heaved as her hands flailed next to her, desperately seeking purchase, until the Flame Hashira caught them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her palms as their fingers interlaced.
“Rengoku - just fuck me already,” Y/N groaned as the Flame Pillar’s face settled between her thighs, his hot breath against her bare cunt causing her legs to attempt to clench shut.
“Well now, that won’t do,” Rengoku tutted, his hands withdrawing from hers as he wound his arms underneath both of her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could to expose her core to his heady gaze.
Rengoku leaned forward and lightly traced up her damp slit with the tip of his tongue. His amber irises which had been locked on hers, rolled back into his head as he groaned at her taste.
“I’m going to take my time with you. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Y/N.” He warned, hands tightening around her thighs as he pressed a light kiss against her slit, teasing her.
In the back of her mind, Y/N registered that he’d used her first name. But the graze of his lips against her most sensitive flesh had her crying out his name, high-pitched and breathy, and she watched helplessly as the sound made Rengoku’s eyes turn black.
In an instant, he was upon her, and he was ravenous.
His mouth latched to her center as though she was an oasis in the middle of a blazing desert, and he was a man dying of thirst.
The way Rengoku’s teeth grazed her sensitive nub made her abdomen clench, and she fought against his ironclad grip on her thighs as they spasmed, desperate to clench around his head.
Y/N moaned, head thrown back into the soft summer grass as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter beneath the Flame Pillar, her hands desperately tugging and pinching at her breasts in an effort to feel more pleasure.
Y/N felt as though she was hurtling towards a cliff that she could not stop herself from tumbling over as Rengoku increased the intensity of his ministrations against her needy cunt.
“You taste,” he ground out through harsh drags of his tongue up her drenched folds, “like fucking paradise.”
His mouth latched around her clit, giving it a sharp suck that had Y/N seeing stars. She barely had time to recover, to acknowledge that she was at her tipping point when Rengoku thrust his tongue into her core and began to fuck her.
Y/N came apart the moment she felt his tongue enter her, a rush of her juices spilling over his relentless maw, but he held her hips down and continued his feast. His teeth grazed her clit over and over while his tongue pumped steadily in and out of her, and Y/N was close to sobbing at the overstimulation.
The Flame Pillar kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, the amber orbs glowing almost ominously in the indigo night.
“I- fuck.” Y/N breathed, grinding unrestrainedly against the blonde’s greedy mouth. “Rengoku!”
The Ice Pillar tried to sit up, tried to grab her comrade’s hair to tell him that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she needed him, but Rengoku was faster. Unfurling a steely arm from where it had been locked around her thigh to hold her open to him, he reached up her torso, his large hand splaying across her upper abdomen to restrain her.
“Sit down,” he growled between thrusts of his tongue into her aching cunt, nipping harshly at her inner thigh. “I am not finished.”
Y/N whimpered beneath the weight of his hand holding her down against the earth and the nearly painful ecstasy that Rengoku bestowed upon her between her legs.
Whether it was in praise for her obedience or a further act of torture, Rengoku then pressed his face flush against her core and rocked it harshly from side to side, his nose and the burgeoning stubble along his jaw scraping against her overstimulated and sensitive flesh.
Y/N slapped her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl that tore from her throat. Rengoku repeated the movement; it felt wonderful. It felt obscene. It made Y/N’s thighs contract around his head as her stomach dipped inward and a gush of her juices spilled out of her, more powerful than before, dampening the collar of the Flame Pillar’s haori.
For a breath, Y/N thought she would die of embarrassment until she felt Rengoku’s mouth vibrate against her from his groan of satisfaction. His tongue thrust once, twice more into her aching core before he withdrew completely, satisfaction tugging at the corners of his smirking lips.
But Rengoku looked nowhere near sated as he gazed down hungrily at her, wantonly spread out against the grass, the shredded pieces of her training attire strewn about, save for her haori.
“I will give you one last chance to end this now,” Rengoku whispered, kneeling above her but no longer touching her. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will walk away, and no one will know.”
Though her body already ached from the intensity of Rengoku’s mouth upon her, she could not fathom stopping here, not when she’d barely begun to taste him herself. The thought of rolling aside to pull on the tattered remains of her clothing, to return to her estate and awake tomorrow as though he had not melted every icy reservation she’d held with his touch, was enough to make her want to cry.
Though her limbs felt boneless, she summoned all her strength to reach toward the Flame Hashira, to beckon him to return to her.
“I want you, Rengoku,” Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper as tears clung to her eyelashes. “Please.”
Rengoku’s pupils exploded, his eyes darkening as he covered her nude body with his own. Y/N nearly sobbed in relief as his lips roughly caught hers, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other snaked beneath her head, tilting it to the side so he could deepen his claim over her mouth.
Y/N’s hands rose, shakily, to pull at the buttons of his uniform top, desperate to feel his skin burn against hers.
“On one condition,” Rengoku said, moving his lips from hers to press against her ear, Y/N shivering. “You must call me by my name,”
“Rengoku?” Y/N questioned her mind too fogged by her own desire.
He nipped lightly under her jaw before pulling his face back from hers, smirking slightly at the way she whined when avoided her attempt to kiss him again.
“My true name.”
With clarity, Y/N realized what he desired. But he had teased her far too much already, and she yearned to return the favor.
So she looked up at him through her eyelashes, teeth sinking into her lower lip in such a way that made the Flame Hashira’s eyes darken.
“Please, please, Kyojuro,” she whispered, lancing a hand up his bicep. “Take me.”
The growl that clawed its way out of the heaving chest of the Flame Pillar made Y//N’s thighs clamp together. Rengoku — Kyojuro — pounced on her, and Y/N summoned all her residual strength to rip his uniform shirt open.
Kyojuro moaned into her neck as his shirt gave way and Y/N’s hands came to rest against his bare skin, her nails raking down his taut pectorals to the rigid planes of his chiseled abdomen.
Her lips began descending the path carved by her nails when she drew short at the dark, thick starburst-shaped scar that covered his shoulder and left pectoral. Kyojuro’s breath seized as she pressed her lips ever so softly against it, turning so she could look up at him from beneath her lashes.
Kyojuro was panting as she nuzzled against his scar, kissing it once more before gently gliding her hand over his heart and resting it there, letting herself savor the strong, sturdy beat from within his chest.
Just as he did before, she resumed her trail down his body, her lips coming to the edge of his pants when his hands wound themselves in her hair, every nerve in his body alight as she licked her way up the small happy trail that stopped just below his belly button.
As much as he wanted to feel her mouth around him, Kyojuro had been driven to the brink of insanity by Y/N’s touch, and his resolve was quickly dwindling.
“Y/N — my flame — I can’t wait,” Kyojuro said by way of apology, as he covered her hands with his own to still them on his belt. He slipped his hands down to grip her wrists, bringing them together in one hand and moving her arms up over her head, pinning them against the grasp. With his free hand, Kyojuro loosened his belt and his pants, and shimmied them down, kicking them off behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of his proud length as it bounced against his belly button.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She was no stranger to the male body, but this – she’d never had anyone compare to Kyojuro’s size or girth.
Kyojuro noticed her hesitation. “Is this – have you ever --?” Kyojuro breathed, hovering above her. It did not matter to him whether she had or had not, but he wanted to ensure that he did not hurt her.
Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s not my first time – but you are the first one to be so…well endowed.” Y/N flushed as Kyojuro laughed softly above her, and she felt his lips graze hers.
He pulled back slightly, reaching to grip the base of his aching cock tapping it against her soaked cunt in a warning and in permission.
Y/N seized beneath him at the spark of hot pleasure that was sent crackling up her spine as he rubbed his velvety head against the most sensitive part of her core. “Kyojuro,” she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling her hips impatiently towards him.
The mushroomed tip of his cock pushed into her entrance and Y/N felt herself go cross-eyed. It was heaven; pure, unadulterated, blissful heaven.
He was insistent on easing his thick length into her, but the throbbing between Y/N’s legs had grown nearly unbearable. He still wasn’t close enough, not nearly as much as she needed him to be.
Boldly, Y/N locked her ankles against Kyojuro’s backside, and with all her might, hauled him into her in a single stroke.
“Fuck!” he yelled, unable to restrain his volume as Y/N forced him to become fully seated within her. Her core was impossibly tight and so fucking warm and wet that it had been a true exercise of self-restraint not to spill himself inside her right then.
Y/N nearly screamed in pleasured relief at the way her body burned and stretched around Kyojuro’s considerable length, his base pressed flush against her sensitive clit as she began to grind furiously against him, desperate to relieve the friction that made her ache.
Kyojuro was still panting from the way Y/N had slammed him into her, nearly trembling with restraint as he willed himself not to finish before they’d truly begun.
Once certain that he would not climax like some green boy, he laughed quietly under his breath. The dark sound caused Y/N’s eyes to fly open, and her stomach flipped at the wicked glint in his eyes as he stared at her like a hunter stalking its prey.
Kyojuro leaned forward and took one of her breasts, harshly into his mouth, grazing his teeth over her nipple hard enough to make Y/N cry out in slight pain before he lapped at it soothingly with his tongue.
“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He murmured between his ministrations, leaving fresh marks all over aching mounds.
Y/N could hardly make a sound as Kyojuro withdrew almost completely from her heat before slamming into her once, the Ice Pillar nearly choking on the breath that flew from her chest with his force.
Desperately — pathetically — Y/N nodded, whimpering.
“If that’s how you want it,” Kyojuro growled against her breast, giving her nipple one harsh nip with his teeth before pulling himself off her.
He sat on his knees, back straight as he began to pound relentlessly into her, his hands gripping her backside and holding her flush against his strong thighs. Y/N’s head remained thrown back against the earth, her fingers tearing at the soft grass beneath her.
Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.
Y/N had never considered herself to be a particularly vocal person when engaged in carnal activities, but the way that Rengoku’s cock hammered into her spasming core over and over had reduced her to a moaning and whimpering mess. The only intelligible thing that fell from her lips was his name — Kyojuro.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Kyojuro grunted out between forceful snaps of his hips against hers, the night air alive with the lewd squelching of Y/N’s dripping cunt as he pistoned into her.
Y/N looked to see the Flame Pillar’s eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced with the force of his thrusts. Between the moans and whimpers he pulled from her with every punishing thrust of his hips against hers, she lightly dragged her fingers from their place in the grass to her hipbone, and then up to trace teasingly around her peaked breast.
Kyojuro’s eyes followed every move, his thrusts hardening as she pinched her nipple and let out a breathy little scream, her walls pulsing around his aching length.
“Fuck,” Kyojuro grit, feeling himself twitch within her as he watched Y/N play with herself, spurring him to go faster, deeper within her.
He moved his hand under one of her knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper into her silken heat, and he teasingly drew his fingers up and down her outer thigh.
At that moment, as Kyojuro was poised against the silhouette of the moon, his amber eyes glowing as he watched where he appeared and disappeared inside her, the realization hit Y/N like a storm, and it knocked her entirely off her axis.
She was in love with Kyojuro.
Who else could make her feel so sacred and yet so angry? Who else had been capable of slipping past every wall she’d built within herself, capable of getting her to let her guard down before consuming her so furiously she had not realized she’d ever been in danger?
He was fire, she was ice. One of them had to give to the other. She’d just always thought it would be him giving into her.
Yet there, beneath the moonlight, her climax rising above her like a tidal wave, Y/N realized that she was powerless against the waves that rose to pull her under, to never again let her up for air.
Distantly, Y/N felt the Flame Pillar’s callused thumb find her clit and her climax slammed into her, and she succumbed to the endless sea called Kyojuro.
--------------------------------------------------------
As Y/N broke apart around him, Kyojuro swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.
She shattered over him with the prettiest scream he’d ever heard, and he could barely make out the drawn-out syllables of his name as her hips jerked up against his while her inner walls threatened to squeeze the life from him.
Y/N finally collapsed back against the ground, her body limp from the exhaustion of her pleasure. Kyojuro then moved in chase of his own release, his hips pressed solidly against hers as he rutted his cock deep within her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening around Y/N’s waist. The familiar electricity of impending release tingled at the base of Kyojuro’s spine, and his stomach began to clench as he began his ascent to his climax.  “Y/N — I am going to finish soon,” his head was thrown back, and his groans were loud enough to alert anyone nearby of exactly what was transpiring between the two Hashira. “Please — tell me where--”
“Inside,” Y/N gasped, her legs tightening around Kyojuro’s hips in a feeble attempt to keep him within her, to ensure that he wouldn’t yet leave her. “Please, Kyojuro, stay.”
Kyojuro was a rational man, and he knew of one major reason not to allow his seed to spill inside Y/N’s heavenly body. But all those rationalities flew out the window at the sound of her wanton and needy whimpers and the way her heat fluttered around him and Kyojuro did not think he could pull out of her if he wanted to.
Kyojuro’s thrusts became more and more frenzied and bruising, with the Flame Hashira hardly dragging his twitching length out of her as he neared his own climax.
“Hold onto me,” he panted, falling forward so that his chest was pressed flush against Y/N’s, one arm going to wrap around her waist while the other snaked over to where her arm lay in the grass, gripping her wrist to pin it up over her head as his fingers interlocked tightly with hers.
Y/N hiked her legs higher up his waist, crossing them at her shins so that he was buried deep within her. Her free arm looped under the one he had braced above her head to wrap around his back, her fingers digging into the rippling muscle and scarred skin that littered his shoulders.
“Make me yours, Kyojuro,” she whispered against his neck, squeezing his hips with her thighs.
Y/N felt his entire body tense at her words and Kyojuro’s moans turned into shouts as he gave one final, deep thrust within her before he exploded. His hand tightened fiercely around hers with the force of his climax,
The pleasure that surged up his spine had been white hot as he pushed himself as deeply as he could possibly go within Y/N’s vice-like core. Kyojuro was not a novice to pleasure, but he had never finished as hard or as much as he did buried within her.
Kyojuro canted his hips, prolonging his release as he continued to empty himself into her, coming down from his earth-shattering high. Y/N mewled against his throat, her lips brushing against his sensitive pulse point as her legs spasmed. once more around his hips.
He finally stilled within her, arms shaking as he braced himself above her, to keep from crushing the exhausted woman beneath him.
He lowered his head down to her level. “Are you all right, my flame?” He panted, pressing a kiss between her brows before he rested his forehead heavily against hers.
She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and nodded shakily.
He no longer could keep himself from collapsing against Y/N, but as he fell forward, he gripped her and rolled, pulling her to his chest with his leaking cock still nestled deeply between her legs.  
“I don’t want to push you away,” Kyojuro murmured softly after a moment, his chest finally easing as his breathing slowed.
Y/N made a show of looking down to where they were still joined, the Flame Pillar’s pearly seed slowly leaking out of her and onto the grass below them. “I think I’m about as close to you as physically possible, Rengoku.”
Kyojuro rolled his eyes and ground his hips slightly into her, causing Y/N to squeak against him.
“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to apologize to you.” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as she nestled back against his chest, chin perched on his pectoral as she waited for him to continue.
“I was just so angry. After the incident on the train, when I woke up in Kocho’s hospital — I was furious. With myself.” Amber eyes met hers and softened to pools of melted honey. “It was never you I was angry with.”
Y/N held his gaze evenly, her voice firm. “But you took it out on me all the same.” It wasn’t an angry accusation — it was the truth; ugly and sharp. But it was real, and so was the tentative, knowing hope in her eyes.
“Yes,” Kyojuro breathed. “Yes, I did. And I am so sorry for it, Y/N.” His hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face, thumb smoothing over the soft expanse of her cheek. “May I ask for your forgiveness?”
Y/N leaned her head into his warm palm, and smiled, softly.
“You may ask, Kyojuro.”
He brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”
Y/N threw a leg out over his other hip, straddling him beneath her, though moving so fluidly that they remained connected at their base.
She rolled her hips against his, and he felt himself begin to harden within her once more. Kyojuro moaned softly, head falling back against the earth as he brought his hands up to steady her, fingers digging gently into her hips as she repeated the movement, again and again, until he’d fully stiffened within her.
“Yes Kyojuro,” she sighed, hands coming to brace themselves against his abdomen as she began to ride him. “I forgive you.”
Kyojuro groaned, his head thrown back as he began to gently grind up into her, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as she lightly raked her nails over his pectorals and the hard ridges of his abdomen.
He wanted so very badly to lose himself within his pleasure, to allow Y/N to consume him whole and never let him go again, but his atonement was not complete.
Because Y/N had given him every opportunity to confess to her before, and he had been careless with them; she would not open that door herself again.
So he would.
“And may I give you my heart, Y/N?” He asked, his hands gliding sensually up from her hips to brace themselves on either side of her sensitive waist, squeezing her firmly.
Her pace had stuttered slightly once his words registered, eyes widening as she looked down at him, and Kyojuro hated that he was the reason the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes.
“Is it truly mine?” She breathed, resuming the intoxicating rise and fall and push and grind of her hips, breasts beginning to bounce as she picked up her pace.
Kyojuro’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself, holding her gaze. “It was only ever yours, Y/N.”
Y/N cried out then, her hips beginning to drop and roll into his with urgency. By the way her damp heat began to pulse and constrict around him, Kyojuro knew that she was barreling towards her release once more.
One hand left its searing position at her waist to drift down to where they were connected, his rough thumb toying with the sensitive nub that had her heavenly cunt squeezing him for dear life.
“My beautiful flame,” he moaned, “how lucky I am to have such a darling god be the keeper of my heart.”
Kyojuro rolled into her from below again, the hand still braced on her waist guiding himself to push deeper into her, as his thumb began to press harder into the apex of her thighs.
“Sweet tempest, please,” Kyojuro panted, the relentless squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his aching length beginning to drive him to the point of madness. “Please, may I have your love?”
Y/N’s moans were piercing as she half-sobbed above him, head thrown back into the night sky, the hoary glow of the moon making her look like a celestial deity given human form as she writhed above him.
“Yes!” Y/N cried, “Yes Kyojuro, you have always had my love!”
The moment the words fell from her lips, Kyojuro jolted upright, coming into a sitting position as Y/N’s legs instantly wrapped around him. He wound one arm around her waist to bounce her in his lap, the other moving to circle his fingers around her nub.
Kyojuro nuzzled her nose with his own, his lips mere centimeters from hers as he pressed his forehead against her and held her eyes. “Then come for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips as he nuzzled her again. “Come for me, my love.”
Y/N seized around him like a vice, her head falling back as she unleashed a euphoric cry.
The force of her climax had caused her to arch backward in Kyojuro’s lap, thrusting her breasts up and forward, and Kyojuro bent to suck one into his greedy mouth, his own release imminent. The warm sticky rush of her pleasure combined with the way her velvety, molten walls constricted around him had Kyojuro seeing stars as his seed shot into her, hot and fast, his strangled groan muffled only by the soft plush of Y/N’s breast as he filled her to her brim for the second time that night.
For a long moment, neither Pillar said anything as they came down from their mutual highs, Y/N’s head pressed against Kyojuro’s shoulder while the Flame Pillar kept his arms firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.
“Y/N, are you all right?” He murmured into her ear, still buried deep within her heat.
Y/N nodded sleepily against his skin, savoring how full and complete she felt perched in his lap.
“I love you, Kyojuro.” She said so softly that the Flame Pillar thought his heart might break. Kyojuro pulled away slightly to bring his fingers beneath her chin where she lay against his shoulder. Gently, he tilted her face towards his and captured her lips with his own.  
“My darling flame,” He murmured against her lips as they broke apart, his eyes sweeping over her face, committing every detail of her beauty to memory. “Thank you.”
Y/N gave him a lazy smile. “I cannot be your flame, Kyojuro,” she teased, “Not when I am made of ice.”
Kyojuro flipped her back beneath him and danced his lips teasingly across the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you know, my beautiful foil, that ice can burn just as well as flame?” He pressed a feather-light kiss against her lips. “And I have been consumed by your silvery fire since I first laid eyes on you at Final Selection.”
Y/N looked up at him in wonder, her hand coming to rest against his face as she adoringly caressed his cheek.
“I love you, Y/N. I am so sorry it took me until now to say it.”
-------------------------------------------------—
Epilogue
Y/N made back it into her room, sight unseen, just as dawn had crept over the horizon.
Feet bare, she padded softly over to her waiting bed, shrugging out of Kyojuro’s uniform shirt and falling into her blankets, not caring at the growing discomfort she felt as the Flame Pillar’s seed dried in her undershorts.
She just wanted to sleep.
Y/N and Kyojuro had come together twice more before the pair realized that morning was imminent, and they needed to return to their respective dwellings before anyone noticed they were gone.
Y/N had lamented that Kyojuro had shredded her chest bindings beyond salvation and had worried she’d be forced to sneak back into the Butterfly Mansion with nothing but her haori to cover her bare chest when Kyojuro slid his uniform shirt over her shoulders.
“No one will think twice if they see me bare,” he’d said by way of explanation, gaze dropping momentarily to appreciate the marks he had left dotted across her breasts before rising back to her face. “I would like to keep you hidden, however.”
Kyojuro then fastened each button one by one, beginning from the bottom as he kissed his way up Y/N’s torso until his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, which he’d nipped.
It had taken everything in her not to throw him down and have him for the fifth time.
Kyojuro had walked with her as far as the edge of the path back to Shinobu’s before parting her with a sweet kiss and a promise to return to her later in the morning. He had also mentioned, somewhat mischievously, that he would be inquiring into when Y/N could expect to be discharged from the Butterfly Mansion and return to her own Estate.
Her empty, person-free estate.
Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep for a precious few hours before her training would begin anew.
“So, do you mind sharing where you’ve been all night?” A dangerously sweet voice chirped from over by the door.
Y/N shot up out of her bed, stomach falling out of her ass, as she faced the smiling, enraged Insect Pillar seated primly atop her wooden stool opposite of her.
“I was quite worried, you know,” Shinobu tutted, the honey of her smile poisoned by the violence in her eyes.
Y/N had never been one to be at a loss for words, a quick comment, or a snappy retort always on hand when the situation called for it.
But to her horror, her mind had gone dreadfully blank, and her tongue was swollen stupid in her mouth.
Shinobu smiled like she knew, eyes slowly looking her over, and Y/N was left with the uncomfortable feeling that her friend could see every way she’d allowed Kyojuro to utterly defile her.
“Will you be in need of a contraceptive?” Shinobu asked lightly, and Y/N felt like she would drop dead right then and there.
“…Yes, please.” She managed to squeak, and the Insect Pillar turned to leave.
“I will bring it with your breakfast.” Her hand closed around the doorknob but stilled.
“And Y/N?”
The Ice Pillar whimpered as her friend turned to look back at her, all smiles and throbbing forehead veins.
“If you ever keep the younger girls awake from the sounds of your activities with the Flame Pillar again, I will poison you both.”
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
2K notes · View notes
animeyanderelover · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
I'm no professional so keep that in mind when reading this.
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, clinginess, overprotective behavior, paranoia, delusion, abduction, murder, ptsd, abuse, depression, trauma, torture, isolation
Don't touch me!
Jonathan Joestar
Tumblr media
💍 He's just shattered when he finds out about the traumatic events that his s/o had to go through and he will guarantee that their uncle will be sued and properly punished for his actions if he has gotten away with it so far. Since you are Jonathan's darling and he comes from a wealthy family, it's definitely going to be a big deal that someone traumatized his lover and partner and the normally kind soul can't help but turn a tad bit cold when your uncle gets thrown into prison and stripped of all his rights. It's justice for his darling after all. Jonathan wants to help his darling, he has no bad intentions but the problem is that he's just so overbearing, protective and very touchy so he finds it a bit difficult at times, although he refrains from touching you in order to not trigger any flashbacks and risk any strong emotional or physical responses of panic or fear from you. He calls for a professional, he genuinely wants to help his darling in any way he can. With touching as a sign of affection out of the way, he resorts to spoiling them with presents and gifts and gets them about anything they ask for since the poor guy just wants to see you happy. Seeing you sad kills him a bit on the inside.
Lisa Lisa
Tumblr media
💌 Her possessive and overprotective side definitely cracks up a few notches when she successfully finds out what has happened to you in your past. She has already lost her husband George so she would be especially attentive to you and she is pretty perceptive so it takes only short to realize your clear fear of men and being touched by them. Either you tell her, although she won't force you if she realizes that it's tough for you, or your family but in either case, Lisa Lisa will find out one way or another, she can't ignore this when it involves you. She's terrifying when she's angry as she's as icy as the coldest winter and she will definitely deal with your uncle and have a word with him to ensure that he will never appear in your life again. Without a doubt she's a bit paranoid for your safety and mental well-being so she brings you with her to her island for safety reasons, as she likes to tell you. It enables her to keep a better eye on you and she can also convince you that besides Loggins and Messina, who are loyal to he, there are no other men there and that Suzie Q will attend to all of your needs. She's noticably softer with you and more careful whenever she approaches the subject of your trauma.
Mariah
Tumblr media
🪙She uses her darling's trauma totally to her own advantage as she is delighted to realize that she has an advantage since she is a woman and can successfully convince you to isolate yourself more due to your dislike and fear of being touched by men. Obviously she still stays with you, you can't be all alone without her by your side after all. Regarding that scumbag of your uncle, she just takes matters into her own hands and just gets rid of him because that vile thing touched and hurt her darling. She's a bit of a sadist when it comes to her torturing her victims, she'll definitely torture your uncle in the last moments of his life before she kills him with her Stand. Mariah is very sweet to her darling to lure them successfully to her side, she'll probably convince them into staying with her all the time and not going outside without her. There isn't a big interest in helping you living with your PTSD but only as long as it doesn't affect her own love life with you. The woman is quite touchy herself after all and whilst she is no man and thinks that by that logic you won't mind her touch, she'll be very visibly agitated and upset if you react negatively to her touches as well.
Higashikata Josuke
Tumblr media
💎 Josuke is very problematic simply because he turns very moody and aggressive when he realizes what the problem is and why you always react so skittish and frightened when he tries to touch you affectionately. Don't get him wrong, he isn't mad with you. He's furious with your uncle and that that that asshole dared to do such things to you and Crazy Diamond will break and fix that man surely again and again until he's not recognizable anymore, only then will Josuke's anger cool down a tad bit. Josuke just has so much love to give his darling, he's a teenager infatuated and being unable to express his love via touches, one of his main love languages, is just killing him on the inside. He's frustrated and that frustration just builds and builds inside of him and explodes out of him at unpredictable times so his friends and close acquaintances are more careful around him as one small thing can set the boy off. He's still very clingy and follows you around, often without you being aware of it as he just wants to be with you somehow. He tries to be as supportive as he can be though, buys you snacks and drinks and he hopes for your therapist that they can help you.
Bruno Bucciarati
Tumblr media
🤐 Bucciarati is going to be very intrusive, even if it's an invasion of your privacy. It would be troublesome if you'd dislike him and hate his touches as much but due to his observations he realizes that this is the norm with all men you encounter in your life which leads him to the conclusion that there is most likely a deeper problem here. If it's concerning your well-being, no matter if physical or mental, Bruno prioritises it over your own privacy. So he either uses his connections as a mobster or he charms you or your family into telling him what has happened to you, he can be very convincing after all and he's very adored by people in general for his helpful and trustworthy personality. He's livid but keeps himself well composed, his pursed lips the only sign of his wrath. Your uncle will be without a shred of doubt be properly punished with his limbs detached from his body, Bruno will see it through that he can never see you again. Very supportive, he will even take over the costs of your treatment, although he also expects you to not skip any meetings. He stays patient otherwise for now, aware that forcing you into anything would only worsen your condition.
Cujoh Jolyne
Tumblr media
🪢 Men can be pretty shitty, she speaks from experiences with her own ex-boyfriend and to a certain extent also her own father but the anger and resentment she might still hold against those two doesn't even compare to the unmatched wrath she feels when she discovers what your own uncle did to you. If she wouldn't be in prison, she'd pummel the living crap out of that vile man. If she isn't imprisoned though, not even the best of luck would help your uncle as she beats him down mercilessly with her Stand and her own fists. Jolyne grows significantly more clingy after that and always stays close to you. She's pretty protective but especially if she knows that her darling has had bad experiences with something or someone so she's always on guard around man and if one of them touches you despite your protests, she instantly goes into attack mode. Part of her knows that she shouldn't, but if your PTSD causes you to stick closer to her since she's a woman, she'd really enjoy that a lot. Differently from Mariah though, she understands that you need professional help so that your trauma doesn't interfere with your daily life. But there's no need to rush things, right?
145 notes · View notes
beatrixblog · 7 months
Text
TW! Possible Descriptions of Horror/Body Horror + Mental Health
I didn’t think I made it clear enough, so heres something explaining the curse a bit further for those who misunderstood. And it has changed over time.
Its more of a fight or flight thing, or maybe even a possession thing considering i hc the spell stuck, and well berserk cacao kinda stuck to him. Berserk Cacao itself is not exactly a ‘curse’ persay, well it still technically is because its the result of pomegranate’s spell, but the transformations DEFINATELY are- They can be very unpredictable, and its the transformation part of it that makes it a curse. And also because it stems from Pomegranate’s spell. My friend did make a post explaining it, i couldnt find it so i took a ss of it.
Tumblr media
It wants to protect him, but does so in the most horrible way possible, acting almost as a fight or flight reflex.
It is like how some people can suddenly go into a flight or fight mode easier, which i have definately seen before considering my own mother has ptsd, but in Cacao’s case, its more that the fight or flight is manifested and the triggers and form is corrupted by pomegranate’s spell, hence why I HC it can also be triggered by dark magic, and negative emotions.
And trust me.
NONE OF THIS is at will. He would never ever wish this curse upon anyone else, since it is so visceral and painful when he doesnt keep his emotions in check.
Also when hes in his normal state, sometimes the curse will- in whispers, mimic what he has said or thought about himself in the past. Just going over and over in a cycle. Its his grief manifested. Its his anger manifested. His depression manifested.
The only reason the curse itself has ill intent is because it believes everyone is trying to harm Cacao. But also, most of its behaviour stems from the nature of Pomegranate’s Spell.
Credit to Enderwasended for these explanations, because myself I wouldnt have been able to as well as they did.
Heres a little explanation on what the transformation is actually like.
The transformation isnt any better.
Tumblr media
The curse completely takes over his mind, in attempt to ‘protect’ him, seeing everything, and everyone, as a threat.
I really hope I explained this well and this makes sense
42 notes · View notes
localpissenthusiast · 2 years
Text
as someone who used to be in the antiship community, i don't think i wanna be a part of it anymore, and here's why.
(tw harassment mentions)
let me preface that this is just me stating my personal opinions and as of right now i don't really stand with either side. what i DON'T stand for is telling people to kill themselves over being on either side.
it's insane how many antishippers i've seen under proshippers' posts describe violently and in gruesome, sickening detail how they should kill themselves - it just doesn't make sense to me. isn't the point of antishipping to avoid normalising problematic behaviour, and yet here some of these people are, sending death threats and telling proshippers to kill themselves?
i just don't see what violence is going to achieve in a situation and community that's supposed to be anti-violence - it's not going to change anyone's views, all it does is spread hate, which the world definitely doesn't need any more of. i don't care how bad the ship or content is, those are fictional characters, while you just told a REAL person to violently kill themselves. you don't get moral high ground for telling ANYONE to kill themselves or by describing how you would kill them/how they don't deserve to live for writing a fanfiction.
n my experience, as a (previous) antishipper who was open to hearing opposing points of view, i would have actual civilized discussions with proshippers to talk about why we stood where we stood on the issue. most if not all of the people i talked to were shipping what they did because of past trauma, and while it might not be an ideal coping mechanism, most of our coping mechanisms as humans, especially with trauma, are somewhat maladaptive. it doesn't make it right, but telling people to end their own lives, especially knowing that they're already struggling with mental illness, is worse than any fictional ships ive ever seen.
these proshippers also took measures to ensure that people who may be triggered by the content of their posts as well as impressionable children were warned and had ways to block their content. their intent was not to trigger anyone, but to create a community of consenting adults with similar coping mechanisms to enjoy their fictional ships without bothering anyone else, and while making it clear that they did not support real-life problematic relationships. these people engaged peacefully or did not engage at all with antis, a stark contrast to the community i was accustomed to, which was full of toxicity, violence, threats and accusations 24/7; funny that the side that preaches non-toxicity in fiction does not adhere to the same morality in real life by any stretch of the imagination.
im not saying that i agree with or support shipping incest or pedophilia, but im not going to harass non-toxic proshippers for coping with other consenting adults and engaging with fictional ships they enjoy. im sorry to all proshippers who have to deal with toxic antis day in and day out, who feel the need to send threats and hate your way instead of just blocking you and moving on.
if you're non-toxic and on either side, just know that i love and respect you - keep doing what you're doing and keep enjoying what you're enjoying.
moral of the story, im neutral on the issue and definitely no longer part of the antiship community after what ive seen, however i wouldn't define myself as proship either. im neutral on shipping, and anti telling people to kill themselves.
i have no doubt i'll be harrassed for this post, and i know for certain that my PTSD is not ready for it, but it needs to be said.
antishippers who fight fictional violence with REAL violence have no moral high ground, and if you are one of these people please do not interact with me.
183 notes · View notes
justkending · 11 months
Text
Finding Memories. Chapter 25.
Tumblr media
Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader 
Word Count: 3100+
TW: Torture, cussing, gore, PTSD, triggers.  
A/N: I think we have about 2ish more chapters left of this series and we will be wrapping it up. Also, I’ve decided to take a different route on the ending, but I’m excited to see what you all think of it :) Enjoy! XOXOXO 
Chapter 25:  
Within the next 5 minutes, the boys were suited up and running down the stairs to the basement until the generator finally had the elevators back up. 
When they got downstairs, it was pure chaos. It was five in the morning, and the sun wasn’t coming up in another hour or so. 
“Those three put them in the cell,” Tony pointed to a group of men who were bound by a rope and fought against it. “Keep it secure. As soon as we find others, we’ll make it a holding room for them.” 
“Other what?” Bucky asked, seeing Y/N pacing and looking as if her mind was in 100 places at once. “What happened?” 
“Mind-control. Don’t know how or when, but the three in there were the reason for the power outage. Y/N says there could be more, but hard to spot them since they blend in,” Tony answered, scanning through security footage he had up on a screen. 
Bucky and Steve looked at the three and noticed they blended in with SHIELD uniforms. No wonder they didn’t see anything coming. 
“There’s another mutant that has mind control powers. She’s strong too. She’s the reason Gabriel was acting the way he was,” Y/N interrupted, stepping over to the men with her arms crossed and her hand under her chin as she processed things. 
“You think she got to them?” Bucky asked, watching her intently. 
“If I remember correctly, she has to have physical contact. How long have those three been working here?” she asked Tony. 
Tony pulled up their backgrounds in half a second. 
“Two have been here for a week and a half and one for 6 months,” Tony scanned the information. 
“That confirms it,” Y/N nodded, with a long sigh. “She must have been on the grounds at some point.”
“Someone like that can get in and out without being noticed,” Wanda spoke up, coming from another table of security footage, Nat close behind. “Make people forget she was even here.” 
“Do you think the others were mind controlled or were just undercover?” Nat asked. 
“Either way they’re here and they got step one of their plan completed. Whatever they did, the system is taking a second to reboot,” Tony answered. “What would normally take a few minutes is taking at least 20.” 
“I’m going to do a perimeter check,” Y/N announced, moving to the door. 
“Whoa, whoa,” Bucky caught her by the arm and she looked down at it and back at him almost offended. 
The look alone showed him, he didn’t know nearly enough of what was going on to be trying to put himself in commanding shoes, but he wasn’t comfortable with her just wandering on her own even if she had her memories back for the most part and could fend for herself. He still saw her as the brittle and quiet version although she had proven that wasn’t at all who she was now.
“I’ll come with you guys,” Nat spoke up. “Best to have backup where you can.” 
Y/N held back a chuckle but didn’t show it. A few days ago, she would have needed the extra help. Today, she was confident that she was their protector instead of the other way around.
 Though she was appreciative of the team effort, a part of her knew she was capable of protecting herself more than them thanks to her memories flooding back and giving her a glimpse of her using them. But another part of her still wasn’t convinced she could actually do them. I mean she was in a trance for the majority of the times she used them, and it was still her and she still had the muscle memory, but doing it with the mind she had now made her uneasy. 
Her motive before was to complete the mission by any means necessary. Now she had collateral and actually cared if she hurt or damaged things. 
She nodded moving back to the door and Bucky had released her to follow her. 
“Wanda, keep an eye out for any others clouded by mind control. I doubt there's just a handful of those around,” Y/N shouted back to the group staying behind and working on getting the compound secure. 
“You got it, sis,” Wanda gave a thumbs up and continued working. 
“Steve,” Bucky started, but the two were synced in how they went to battle. 
“Already on it. Bruce is on the way and Alma is on standby for medical backup,” he assured him. 
“Thanks,” Bucky grinned and the three were out and on the mission. 
They took an elevator to ride back to ground level, but mass chaos had ensued throughout the facility and agents were scrambling to man their battle stations though no one knew what they were necessarily preparing for. 
With the elevator stopping every third floor or so to move people to their stations, Bucky got annoyed and did a quick hack through the controls to make the elevator take a straight shot to where they needed to be. 
The sun was still down, but they would be lucky in the next 30 minutes or so to be gifted with light outside of the lamppost scattered on the grounds. 
“What should be looking for, Y/N?” Nat asked as they watched her analyze her surroundings in a paranoid yet calculated way. 
“I’m not sure yet,” Y/N mumbled, walking about 20 feet before stopping in her space. “Do you feel that?” 
Bucky and Nat froze a few steps behind her and looked around expecting something obvious, but both looked at each other lost. 
“Feel what?” 
She didn’t answer, but instead put her hands out slowly and as if unsure if she had the motion right, stretched her fingers out and waved them over the ground. 
After a second, the ground looked to be covered in what was like the purple haze she had projected when she used her powers, but this time it had an overlay that created a film over the lavender color. 
“Yeah, you’re going to have to explain that one cause I got nothing,” Nat said with a straight face as she watched the film move around her legs like she was now standing in a pond full of galaxy-like water. 
“From what I remember, it's like scanning for frequencies and vibrations. Believe it or not, you’re not even seeing what I am. You’re just seeing coverage of what I’m doing,” Y/N attempted to explain. “To put it into words you may get, it’s like x-ray vision. Which by the way, did you know your friend has electromagnetic tools embedded in his lawn?” 
Bucky and Nat couldn’t help the knowing look that crossed their face. 
“Can’t build a suit of armor around the world, so he’ll build one around his personal world until he figures it out,” Nat answered. 
“How far down is it?” Bucky asked more intrigued by her ability to see it all. 
“Far enough no one digging a garden would find it, but close enough that it can break the turf to do its job,” she answered, pulling her hands back. She looked around like something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. 
“What?” Nat asked out of curiosity as they followed her in her steps. “What’s going on?”
Bucky and Nat watched her as she continued to scan the area, but whatever was making her on edge wasn’t visible to them. 
“I-I don’t know, but something isn’t right,” she answered, looking behind them now at the facility. She cocked her head slowly to the side as if she were scanning the building now. 
Then her eyes widened and before Nat and Bucky could react to what was coming, she had created a force field around the explosion that had combusted with an earth-shaking hit. Her quick thinking kept all other parts of the facility from suffering the same fate.
“Holy shit,’ Nat gasped, immediately reaching for her comms. “Stark, did you-?”
“See it? No. But I heard and felt it,” Tony came through out of breath. “What was that?” 
“Explosion. Northeast quadrant,” Bucky jumped in. “Send a medical team immediately and get uninjured agents suited up and on the scene. We may need to evacuate certain sections.”
“Steve’s on it,” Wanda came through and you could hear the commands being listed off in the background. “Are you guys alright?” 
“For now,” Bucky answered with a mumble. He turned back to Y/N and saw her face stills stuck in shock. “How’d you know?” 
Her eyes blinked harshly and she snapped back to reality. “I could feel it before it happened,” she answered after a second.
He turned back to the wreckage and realized she had left the top of the forcefield open to not cause the fire to burn everyone inside to a crisp. It was a small detail to her quick thinking that might have saved a lot more lives.  
As much as he wanted to hold onto the girl who would have been flustered and panicked at something like that, this new version of her was not naive to the cruelties of this world and it made him sad for her. 
“What’s our next move?” Nat asked, breaking his thought process. 
Y/N shook her head not knowing the answer to that since she was still reeling from what she just had to do. 
She sighed fidgeting with her hands and looking around, waiting for something to come to her. 
Then she closed her eyes and thought back to the past memories. Things that would help her predict their next moves. 
She opened her eyes quickly. “It’s another diversion. Keeps half the facility working on something else, something major, and leaves open a blind spot.” 
“You say that like you’ve seen this happen before,” Nat replied hearing the mission report language come through. 
She looked at her ashamed and embarrassed before looking back at the damage. 
“Something along the lines of it,” she muttered to herself. 
“What should we expect then?” Bucky asked, moving on from the touchy subject. 
“The big guns,” she looked at him. “That did its purpose. Distract. What comes next is a gonna be a lot worse…”
“Why do you say that?” Nat asked feeling an answer she didn’t like coming. 
“They’re coming straight for me,” she answered looking at her with a nervous expression. 
“Wanda needs to get up here,” Bucky said quickly, not liking the turn things were taking. He knew they would be coming for her, but with a quarter of the facility up in flames, they were running low on time and options. 
“I’m trying, but it’s chaos down here. I’m trying to help as I go. I’ll be up in 10 minutes hopefully though,” Wanda said through the comms and they could hear the loud chatter and shouts as the building erupted with thousands of frantic workers. 
“What should we do? I can-” Nat started, turning to Y/N in a rush to do whatever the next step. 
“I need to get far away from here,” Y/N interrupted, her answer frantic and the only thing she felt would work.
“What?” Bucky asked confused. 
“If I stay here, this place will become a graveyard. He wouldn’t be infiltrating this place if he thought he didn’t stand a chance,” she replied. “Whatever he has planned, and I can’t really say what that’ll be, it’s not going to be easy to take down.”
“But that’s what we have you for,” Nat spoke up trying to give her some courage. “The reason they even need big guns is because they are fighting something even bigger. We all know the power you’re capable of. If what we’ve seen is only a portion of your abilities, they won’t make it out with anything they came for.”
“But what if I don’t actually know what to do? The times I remember doing the stuff I’ve been practicing were memories I wasn’t in control of. Who’s to say I won’t lose control again?” she said with almost a plead for the answer as if that would comfort her enough. 
“Y/N,” Bucky stood in front of her and pulled her arms slightly to him. “I know all too well what you’re thinking right now. And I’m here to tell you from personal understanding, it’s always going to be scary to uncover if you are capable of doing the things you know how to  for yourself and not for others.” She looked at him hopeful. “But we don’t really have time to do it or an ideal space. Now is the only time we were given.” 
She looked at him with fear, but a small piece of strength she had came forward. 
Before they had time to discuss plans any further the ground started shaking again, but this time from behind them. 
“I’m gonna guess that’s from the big guns you were mentioning,” Nat said sarcastically as the trees in the landscape shook harsher and harsher. 
“You guys should go,” Y/N said never breaking from the view in front of her. 
“Like hell, we’re leaving you on your own,” Bucky moved to stand next to her in a stiff stance.
“You stay, you’ll die,” she said bluntly looking at him. 
“No better way to go down,” he looked down at her and gave her a sad smile. 
As sweet as a sentiment it was, she wasn’t comfortable with him willing to die for her when she didn’t feel worth it. 
“No,” she shook her head and stepped to be back in front of him. “There’s a difference between dying nobly and dying for nothing.”
“You’re not nothing Y/N,” he was quick to correct her. 
“No, that’s not what I mean,” she shook her head looking behind her and seeing the shake of the trees grow in intensity. “If they see you, they’ll kill you simply because you’re worth something to me. Not because you’re a challenge to them. I don’t want that to be your ending.” 
“What happened to letting people have a choice?” Bucky asked, with a quirked eyebrow. 
“What happened to making a plan to prevent collateral?” she retorted. 
He opened his mouth to argue, but they didn’t have time, and the ground shaking to the point they lost their balance proved her correct. 
“Please, you’re no help to anyone dead. Both of you,” she grabbed Bucky’s hand and held it as she looked at Nat. “If I make it out of this, I want to know that everyone who’s become family to me, will still be there.” 
“I can’t let you just go and sacrifice yourself,” Bucky started, but Nat came and put a hand on his shoulder. 
“She’s not wrong, Barnes. We may have fought some crazy stuff, but we had time to prepare for it to an extent. Two super soldiers aren’t going to last long out here by ourselves,” she bargained. “We’re more help to her getting the whole team up here.” 
“She’s right,” Y/N nodded, thankful that Nat was on her side. 
Without another second to contemplate, a huge tree was airborne and headed straight to the three. 
Y/N sensed it though and quickly turned to put her hands up to create a force field that stopped the tree in its place and froze it mid-air. 
“No time to continue this debate,” she grunted as she caught her breath and dropped the tree to the ground with a soft crash. “Get inside and tell the team what we’re up against. And get Wanda up here!” 
He would have nailed his feet to the ground if it meant he could stay and fight alongside her, but she was right. The only people who had a chance to make it out of this battle with little injuries were those with bigger powers than enhanced strength and agility.  
Another round of trees started uprooting and randomly flying toward the area Y/N was at. Bucky heard Nat shout for him to run and follow him and he hesitated, but quickly started sprinting as the large trees were being thrown haphazardly. 
“She’s going to die out there,” Bucky shouted, turning and looking back when he could. 
“She’ll be fine for now,” Nat tried to comfort him, but he could tell she didn’t believe it fully either. 
Y/N looked back at the two who were out of the firing zone and her anger spilled over at the fact that someone was destroying what she had created as a home. 
She threw her hands to the side and the motion caused the space of attack to freeze. Trees that were flying mid-air froze and it looked like a scene out of a weird art exhibit. 
“Come out and face me. You won’t win with those kinds of games and you know it,” she shouted into the vacant plot of land.
Then as if a facade lifted, two people were exposed. They were about 20 feet away coming out of the tree line. 
Two women. One in her mid to late 20s and the other a young teenager. She could pass as 16, but Y/N could tell she was younger. Enough trauma ages a person. 
“Who are you?” she questioned looking at them sternly. 
“I think you know who we are…”
She didn’t see either of the girls move their lips so she wasn’t sure how she heard it so clearly, especially since they weren’t in close distance, but then in a flash, memories slammed through her skull. 
She fell to her knees and cradled her head in pain as vivid and clear memories were forced onto her without warning. Her body wasn’t producing them and it felt like hundreds of needles prickling her head as they came through violently. 
She saw in the flashbacks the kind of torture that she had endured, but it wasn’t her receiving it this time. The woman that stood down the way from her was sending her own personal memories of the torment and pain she endured under Dr. Hartley and the others. 
She was trying to find an out of all this madness, but she could tell the girl who was doing this to her had practice. But she wasn’t strong enough to hold Y/N down for as long as she hoped. 
Y/N let out a gut-wrenching scream as she fought against the pain her body was put under and broke the spell while also throwing the two girls back exerting her power. 
When she looked at them again, she only saw red and the older one looked perplexed. 
“You weren’t supposed to be able to do that,” she mumbled.
Y/N stood straighter and rolled her shoulders back. 
“Yeah, I’ve been told that before.” 
And with that, fury fuelled her fight. Mist of purple and galaxy filled hazes were thrown at the two as a second fight broke out on the campus grounds.
Feel free to follow me on Watt-pad too and vote on any of your favorite chapters:) It helps promote my story & also makes my brain release tons of endorphins every time I get a notification about one of ya’ll❤️
If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask here.Thank you:)
Finding Memories Taglist: (some would not let me tag. so if you see your name but didn’t get the notification, double check if your blog allows tags:)
@tinkerbelle67 @a-beaverhausen​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @caruhleener​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @fanfictionjunkie1112​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @sjsmith56​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nancymcl​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @kaygilles​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @laisbeltrans​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @matchat3a​​​​​​​ @ambrosia1846​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @peachiestevie​​​​​​​
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​
My Lovelies forever:
@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1​
Bucky Barnes Tags:
@chloe-skywalker​​​​​​ @charmedbysarge​​​​​​ @jbarness​​​​​​ @bellamy-barnes​​​​​​​ @katiaw2​​​​​​ @aikeia​​​​​​ @stopjustlovethemcu​​​​​​ @enchantedbarnes​
23 notes · View notes
system-of-a-feather · 8 months
Text
DISCLAIMER SECTION
I'm gonna ramble about race / cultural experiences and trauma (probably) and this time it really isn't a line of thought ignited by syscourse or anything - but I'll tag it's tw anyways cause I'd rather people be able to filter it out than get it out there, but anyways
(for the note this was actually spurred on from a number of conversations I was having with a few parts today at work, one of which being that post about "diagnosed early vs diagnosed late" trauma; none of these points necessarily reply to that but for transparency and context)
For all of this, if any points or topics relate or resonate with you, feel free to comment, reblog, discuss, whatever on this post. Theres a lot of trauma talk on this and some level of details (CW will be provided before each section along with CW: clears), but none of this is really intended as a vent or trauma dump as much as... ya know, just talking about it as it is.
--------
As we've gotten further and further along with our healing, we've come to be a lot more open and comfortable talking about topics specifically relating to our trauma - at least in a C-PTSD / paranoid about giving out things that can be used to hurt us sense - and that is honestly really great and I'm really happy and proud for that
The thing is though, even though we've mostly declawed how easily our main triggers can be poked at and thus enabled us to feel more confident and ok talking about it, we honestly still are hesitant to do so for two main reasons.
One, being a simple lack of motivation to do so as it doesn't really come up and we don't really think about it more than we have to and often when we have to its usually not a place of mind we have the spoons to talk about it - ya know, normal healthy things.
The second though is because we've really come to learn that a lot of people in online trauma and dissociative communities really don't understand a lot of the largest and foundational themes of the trauma we went through and in my experience in the community, more often than not the response I've gotten from sharing that sort of things have always been more uncomfortable at best than helpful or positive.
And I think there are like... maybe three main things about our childhood core trauma that just make it hard to talk about with the tone of the community + the general heavily white area. This isn't meant to be like "oh you are bad if you fall into this" or anything, I don't have any ill intent or "call out" to really anyone even those who might heavily contribute to this cause its not that much talked on afaik. Mostly talking about this in a sort of, I guess commentary? I dunno, food for thought I guess.
But the first area...
as you might expect from this post and some previous ones, is that due to the fact that the community is heavily white-person run and driven and filled with many white peers, a lot of the talk and understanding of "trauma" and what kind of "chronic childhood trauma" typically looks like to form DID is informed by a white and western standard of trauma. And that isn't to say it is WRONG or BAD, but it makes it so that there is an inherent understanding that anything that differs from that is typically "better" rather than looking at the differences in a large scale cultural-context lens. And this sort of stuff has on MULTIPLE occasions had people respond to me venting or sighing about trauma-related stuff and stating that they wish they had that growing up - which I absolutely understand but it is OBVIOUSLY intensely insensitive and lacking in insight. I don't think any of those people who made those comments MEANT bad, but the nature of the discussion of trauma in these spaces being so heavily white centric and run has made it so that people forget to take culture into account and over simplify trauma into this "A is bad and B is - even when bad as well - inherently better". There is probably a level of classism / assumptions based on class as well somewhere in there, but thats a line of thought I hadn't thought much on past just a "yeah that probably plays a role".
(CW: RAMCOA related topics, CSA, etc)
The second...
is that our relationship with our sister falls awkwardly into the "not programming" in the sense of it's scale and intensity, but it would also be incredibly understated to just call it "conditioning" either and this might just be a "my feelings" on the matter than an actual reflection of the community, but I do often feel as though the nature of it not being either would result in it either being minimized OR people assuming I am trying to claim that I have the same thing as those that experienced programming and its just a really awkward place to be in. There is a lot of black and white talk regarding psychological abuse perpetuated by a person in power who has knowledge of DID and toyed with you as an experiment and project by intentionally learning to manipulate the parts. It wasn't at all the same level of proper RAMCOA, but it also was not just "conditioned learning" as our dissociation was actively targeted as a mechanism to create an unquestioning pet - that of which ended off getting pettled off to the a pedophile.
The complexity and nuances of the trauma and relationship we had with our sister like that combined with the very black and white language regarding trauma talk of that kind has made it just really awkward to try to explain to people because its really not either but as far as I know there isn't a term for whatever it was either. While chatting with a part (forgot which honestly whoops) we were thinking of officially just making our own term of like "trained" but idk, we aren't the coining type of folk so *shrugs*
(CW: CLEARED)
The third area...
Is just how messy and black and white the talk around autism. To those that haven't followed this blog from the earliest of early days, it might seem as though we were recently diagnosed with autism (technically true) and thats it and all, but autism has been a HUGELY prevalent part of our childhood and trauma history and honestly none of it really fits into the common narratives in PTSD / CDD spaces.
Firstly, we were neither really "early diagnosed" OR "late diagnosed" as our parents and my oldest sister (who was early diagnosed) noticed it EARLY on and immediately shaped my entire life around my "Aspergers" diagnosis that I was told I had when I actually never saw a professional for. Regardless, to my knowledge, I was diagnosed with aspergers from age 4 until they changed it to ASD and I asked my mom about it again at 15 or 16 when I started seeing a therapist and found out she never actually had me formally diagnosed. I then became "undiagnosable" due to the disorders that they COULD confirm, plus the weird relationship with my sister, and that I was raised in a "heavily autistic environment" where it was very plausible that I simply learned autistic behaviors as - at the time, thank you DID - I was too high functioning / masking and didn't appear to have significant impairment in any other areas other than being "a bit weird" in terms of how I view society and behavior again, both of which could be accounted for by environment + C-PTSD. It wasn't until well after I cleared stabilization for DID and undid a lot of the intense training our sister put us through, did our masking drastically decrease and it became apparent that yeah, we actually are largely impacted by ASD which ended up with us in the last few months being diagnosed. We were diagnosed early, undiagnosed, labeled "can not confirm nor deny if this is ASD", then diagnosed late, all simultaneously and so we don't really know where our word would fall in the general pecking order of "which group does your experiences fall into".
The OTHER thing is that our two primary abusers were autistic and their autism WAS inherently a part of the trauma that we went through and a lot of the talk of autism on the internet is so 'low supports needs' centric and sugar coated that it is very hard to feel comfortable commenting on how actually ugly and harmful autism can be to the individual AND those around them. This isn't to say its Autistic Abuse or any of that garbage, but my abusers autism is not a negligible or coincidental aspect of their abuse. It didn't make them an abuser, but it was still a large part of it.
(CW: Physical abuse and neglect)
My dad is confusing for 5000 reasons and anyone whose had DMs with me for over a year will know I sometimes share some of the REALLY confusing things about my dad (pretty sure he has DID as well but thats a conspiracy theory), but between his cultural trauma, coming from a """third world""" country, and having missed out on certain learning targets growing up due to the aforementioned first two - he has never been given the information, coping skills, treatment, or context to handle his symptoms in anything close to a healthy way. Its only now that hes (I think) in his 60s that my mom got a better understanding of everything that he's gotten any support, but with the sheer lack of assistance in his childhood, teenage years, and adulthood, its both a large task and honestly arguably not fair on him to try to get him to understand it beyond what is necessary to give him a life worth living.
But again, he had no ability and no tools to navigate his symptoms due to his complex and unfortunate situation and he absolutely did the best he could with what he had. Some parts in the system don't forgive him, but almost all of them understand and respect the intent at least. For example, we were poorly fed (and when we were it was usually garbage; think KFC 5/7 days a week for dinner) until we were 16 and able to drag the family into actually cooking because my dad would get into violent and aggressive meltdowns over ANY food smells, ANY mess, and ANY warmth. Cooking was basically forbidden until then because everyone was too afraid to risk it. Like there is a lot more to that, but its not something I'm given as clear access to and I aint gonna pry, but most of the most abusive behavior from him could very much be stemmed down to a sensory or communication issue regarding his untreated autism and a lack of ability to cope with it resulting in violent meltdowns.
(CW: CLEARED)
(CW: ABA)
Likewise, my sister who had been given ABA, from a young age taught me "how to survive in the world as an autistic person" and directly passed on HER version of ABA and HER understanding of autism onto me, which was just a garbage, intentional or not, way to excuse making me into her pet project rather than actually coping with her own trauma. (Plus 95% of the "information" she "taught" me was garbage including the infamous "having multiple consciousnesses in your head is a normal autism thing as long as there are less than 5" that I clown on every other day)
(CW: CLEARED)
I dunno really how to wrap this up, its like a conglomeration of thoughts we had today so its not really well organized but like... I guess AHEM *puts on my highschool english essay hat*
And so I conclude my essay on *checks notes* reasons I feel weird talking about trauma in online spaces? I think thats the point of this post? Idk I'm just rambling XD
13 notes · View notes
anti-radqueer-zone · 6 months
Text
TW: mention of rape and rape threats I never know if I should respond to harassment anons. On one hand, I want to show people the harassment I receive from Radqueers that often triggers my PTSD and paranoia, which I'm sure is their intention. On the other hand, I don't want them to feel the satisfaction of a response. I'm sort of stuck in two worlds, either be silent and deal with it on my own and just take it, or speak up and let them get the pleasure they want.
I've been sent more rape threats than I can count. It's always those too; I don't really know why. This recent one went after my family too. It's really jarring.
By responding, I feel like I become the victim all over again; every option I could pick is triggering or brings the person pleasure. It's frustrating. I hate this feeling. I hate being a victim my entire life. I hate the way it feels.
7 notes · View notes
mushroomjeremy · 2 years
Text
CW: PSA about Montauk House
Can’t believe I have to make this but I think people who aren’t active or occasionally tag something in the main SCP 4231 tag might need to be reminded of certain things. And I’m willing to not say this kindly or bushing certain part of this article that don’t really get brought up normally or just fucking never. But I think this might be necessary for the people in the back to hear or a link-able post to explain to those who forgot about something or just never knew about in the first place.
PLEASE KEEP IN MIND IF YOU LINK A MINOR WITH THIS POST. JUST BE VERY FUCKING CAREFUL. THIS IS A VERY ADULT TOPIC AND THEY MAYBE SHOULDN’T READ THIS IF THEY THEMSELVES HAVE NOT SEEMED TO READ THE ARTICLE ITSELF.
I’m writing this post as bluntly and uncensored as I can do as it’s the best way for people to understand. If anything below is triggering or you begin to become triggered as you read, PLEASE STOP AND LEAVE THIS POST IT’S NOT WORTH YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.
If you want to make an AU/Headcanon about Lilly being redeemable, a good mother, or about her having ‘good intentions’ (seriously or jokingly) NEVER SHOULD YOU EVER USES RITUALS LILLY/SCP-4231-A! She is unsalvageable in this regard.
And for those that don’t know why or need a reminder about what canon 4231 takes place in and that SHE IS LITERALLY TRYING TO BE THE WORST PERSON AND SUPPOSE TO BE WRITTEN THAT WAY. Here a good chuck of what we knew she has canonically done and the explanation/motives of such actions. And why you should not be posting this in the main tag.
TLDR: Don’t uses SCP-4231-A Lilly ever and uses the Black Type/Eden Garden Lilly if you want a ‘good/fix it’ Lilly. And NEVER tag it with SCP 4231 or SCP 4231 - A.
I’m not bring up anyone specifically that has done this. I see different people do so around every 6 months and it has gotten under my skin every time I’ve seen it. I feel that this still needs to be said in some form.
I beg of you with this. Many frequent people in main tag are there for their own trauma relief from similar experiences in their own lives. It’s become  a niche for talking about abuse through Francis. She is not to be brought up lightly there.
There is a reason that the SCP fandom in general doesn’t just randomly bring up SCP 4231 to the point of sometimes it seems like an obscure article. It physically and mentally fucks readers up. People can’t finish the thing sometimes. You do not bring this up unless the space is known for it and main tag is one of the ‘do not talk about some of this stuff’ oddly enough.
CW/TW for what’s past ‘Keep Reading’:
Everything, Just Everything: Sexual Assault, Rape, Domestic Abuse, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Financial Abuse, Murder, Torture, Disembodiment, Forced Impregnation, Forced Marriage, Sex Slavery, Sex Trafficking, Kidnapping, Hostages, Grooming, Incest, Genocide, Gaslighting, Victim Blaming, Psychosis, PTSD, Cults, Child Soldiers, Pregnancy, Birth, done to various degrees to women, men, children, and animals. Very heavy on the children side of things. And I’ve probably missed a lot of other warnings. Tread very lightly.
Here we fucking go. Buckle in this is almost as long as the article itself.
Anyone who knows a lot about SCP you're going to have to bare with stuff being generalized such as the actual 110 Procedures and 999 not wholly relevant to this post. This is to understand what Lilly thought she was doing not what actually going on/happened. As well as boiling the names Francis, Agent Ukulele, and Dr. Alto Clef to just Clef for simplicity. Also not much mention of A Major system because that’s it’s own can of worms that not relevant for this topic at hand.
Let’s start with the basics of what Montauk House is/is about:
SCP-4231 The Montauk House generally takes place in a conglomerate canon call Rituals/Montauk Procedures/Dust and Blood/Scarlet King Mythos or Lore. While these canon vague allude to various different connective events/concepts, to 90% of the SCP Fandom these are the same canon and should be treating as such unless you know who you are talking too.
As a basic understanding this all revolves around SCP-231. Which if you don’t know is about the torture of 7 girls around the ages of single to double digits (think ages 6~14) that were impregnation by a sex cult (Children of the Scarlet King) that wants to bring the closes thing to the embodiment of evil (Scarlet King) to destroy reality; the torture is the only way to stop all the babies from being born, reality collapses after the last one is born. The torture is call Montauk-110 Procedures.
Montauk-110 has a few variation in canon of what it is. However for this know that there are 2 different versions. One that Dr. Robert Montauk himself made as a revenge torture manifesto from fragments of a ritual written in a Codex and miscellaneous other Daevite texts. These containment procedures are horrific and makes characters in canon physically ill from just reading what is happening to them. The ritual in the codex is also called the Montauk Procedures, but is worse than whatever Dr. Montauk wrote for the 110 procedures. He made an alt version of the ritual but not a one to one. I’m just calling it ritual for ease of reading. Remember this fact throughout this whole thing; Rituals spell is worse than Montauk-110.
SCP 4231 is basically an origin of where the Foundation found the pregnant kids, or who I’ll be revering to as ‘Scarlet King Brides vessels’ and slight variations of this concept, where found. As per the title ‘Montauk’ and 4(231).
However, if you are main tagging, you know this article isn’t really about the brides themselves, mostly. It’s main point is an origin story for Dr. Alto Clef, his daughter SCP-166, and his girlfriend/wife Lilly. You all know who Clef and 166 are, I shouldn’t need to explain either of them as a concept.
The main theme of this article is the domestic abuse and rape of Clef and the psychologically effects and creation of his mental illnesses/disorders, in excruciating detail, it had/has on him for the rest of his life.
That is what everything is revolving around.
Before going deep into SCP 4231′s events I’d like to explain who/what a 231 instance is and can be as it will be very important...
Some explaining of who the Scarlet King is. For the sack of this post, he’s a god of rape and suffering. That what he is known for doing, like a lot. He had an original wife he forced to marry him, impregnated her 7 times, all daughters, and she died from the birth of the 7th child. He than married all seven of them, just calling them brides, ‘sealed’ them away, and impregnate them too, multiple times which each one. He also wage war on Death itself and is destroying/genocide realities to accomplish this goal.
He has a religious following, Children of the Scarlet King, that almost everything they do revolves around impregnation of various people and things; while sex cult may not be the right term for what they are, most people in the fandom refer or associate them as such. Lily is a member of this group, and Clef may or may not have been a member as it’s not wholly confirmed yes or no, this point will be important later.
This GoI got a hold of religious text, Erikesh Codex, that explain how to summon the Scarlet King to that reality to destroy everything and enslave everyone who doesn’t die. Which was the creation of 231 instances.
The Foundation tell their staff all 231 instances are/were children. Impregnated via a ritual of mimicking the Scarlet King and his original 7 daughter; mimicking like a character in a play, a vessel for them. This involved torture to get this done. The vessel were also sealed in tombs in a dinghy makeshift basement which where really difficult to get into.
They were meant to give birth to demon gods that would bring Scarlet King there, like a weird beacon. The birth will always end in the vessels death and the death would mean that the CHILD was arranged married to Scarlet King, then considered a wife instead of bride.
This is a lie, somewhat. The first instance, 231-1, is generally know to be Lilly, an adult. She willingly and intentionally became this, this was not forced upon her. She was not locked away like the other 6 children and allowed to do whatever the fuck she wanted to. She did not die from the birth, she was alive quite a few hour after it, she would have continued to live if she wasn’t shot.
However this might even be a larger lie, as sometimes CLEF IS 231-1, HE IS THE BRIDE. Unwillingly and Unknowingly doomed to marry basically the fucking devil in death. We do not know if Clef was locked in the basement ever or was ever in the basement or even know the basement existed, but we know at some point he is allowed to roam about and go to work with the GoC.
HOW COULD HE BE THE BRIDE THAN? HE’S AN AMAB/CIS MAN? Well the ritual doesn’t give two fucks who play which character, not age nor gender. As long as the end result is that seven children are born, it doesn’t matter.
So who was Lilly being? Scarlet King. She is willingly playing/mimicking various things that god would do. She is purposely being the worst to complete this task.
So at this point we know she has done the following: Complicit of rape, murder, and genocide; fine with and propagated incest; has preformed child sex trafficking; tortured 6 children and her boyfriend; imprisonment of 6 children, intent/attempt to murder 6 children; made 6 arrange child marriages and arranged marriage of herself or her own boyfriend with the actual devil; and is trying to be the Scarlet King in someway, again a rape deity.
So what is she doing/how did she do it?
Well it isn’t pretty in the slightest and I won’t be sugar coating this. So let’s get into this timeline and actions.
This is the last warning I’ll give: Below is a long and lengthy detail of the story’s events. This will not be a fun read. Please leave now if what above was already to much.
While we do not know when Lily joined CoTSK cult, we do know she did at some point. And it all kinda started when she meet Clef for the first time.
She seemed to be an orphan, if she even actually had parents, girl Clef stumbled upon in the back woods from his family’s home. They seemed to get along very well, to the point she was Clef’s best friend, and only friend, and the person he trusted the most in the world. At some point Clef’s mom left him and his dad when he was really young (think 5~9) and than somehow later on his dad died when he was a teen (12~17.) Lily invited him to live with her, he agreed, that house is the Montauk House. Not really to much about this for now but he joined the GoC a little while after this, you know, to kill people for profit, we’ll get back to that.
At this point Clef is at least co-depend on Lily as shelter and emotional company. Lily knows this.
There was something odd in Clef’s house though, the Erikesh Codex was just kinda sitting in a study room... the entire time he was alive. When he and Lilly left, they took this book with them. At this point the cult already had a copy of the Codex, so its not 100% known if the GoI was tracking both of them this entire time or they found out the two had the OG copy and then sought them out after the move.
However at some point the cult was in contact/extremely close with at least one of these two (Lily at minimum.) Why? Well because Dipesh (High Priest/leader of group) knew of where, when, and how the vessels where made and took ownership of the brides creation. However Lilly almost seemingly alone did 90% of all of this and guarded the vessels as she was the only one at the property the whole time.
There are two things that could have happened here.
1. Lilly converted from reading the codex after taking the book or the cult started talking and convinced her to join and participate again after taking the book.
Or
2. She could have been a plant for the group from the beginning. Intentionally befriending Clef to get to the Codex and took him as a bonus prize in the deal.
Also sometime Lilly age is up to debate, so she could be 100s of years old and just mimicked being a child and grow up.
So many levels down of grooming and maybe an worrying age gap while knowing the other throughout childhood at this point.
So going back to the GoC here. While the house did have a flower shop, North Access that town is so small itself is not on physical maps and in bum fuck nowhere, wouldn’t pay the bills much, who’’s buying so many plants?, they are also kids but at least at this age can legally get a job, so Clef ended up getting a job at the GoC somehow, also probably weird and telling to let in a teenager. He’s only friend was Lily, so how? Probably someone from Lily circle of people. A disturbing fact here: Clef original hated hurting people to an extreme extent, to the point he, at least thought, would rather die himself than fight someone back. He became an assassin for hire and is really fine and good at hurting and murdering people now, so why? We aren’t 100% sure, but this leads to thinking there might have been peer pressure and attempt to desensitize him too abhorrent acts. Also because Clef would leave for long periods at a time, Lilly took care of most of the money, we have no idea how much control Clef himself had of the cash pool.
This is financial abuse when coupled with all this.
An unknown amount of years went by, we know nothing really of this time. However the GoC started noting wounds on their agent, thought nothing of it that just happens in this line of work. This coupled with Clef’s initially interview with the Foundation (thought to be the most truthful he’s been) most of this was from Lilly PHYSICALLY HURTING HIM; cuts and bruise increasing with size and frequency. We also kind of know that gaslighting and verbal abuse was also already going on for very long at this point. Years and years of this.
Then the beach happened. It seemed that Lilly been trying to get him to have sex with her for a while but always back off after several ‘no’s’, she’s been sexual assaulting him, at this point with inappropriate unwanted touching with sexual intent, start long before this here... until the beach. That was the first time he was raped, not just sexually assaulted with unwanted physical contact but forced sexual acts. And she keep doing it once she noticed Clef wouldn’t physically stop her. We do not know how long she’s been doing this, could be a few months to years.
Unknown amount of time. Six girls got kidnapped by Lilly or other Cotsk members and brought to the basement in the house. While we don’t know what actual happened, it involves lot of torture, we don’t know what’s happening with Clef but he started showing disassociation and memory blocks by this time. Clef’s night terrors later on make him have large bloody gashes on his stomach and a very bruised pelvis; you know like knifes were carving him up and extreme force was happening during the rapes. Was it the ritual or Lilly, at this point normal abuse, being constant; no ones knows and IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER. At this point something happen, She at this point chose to be the Scarlet King larper, somehow, which no one should want the answer to, most likely got Clef to impregnate children, and stuck the six girls in tiny ass rooms in the basement that she created for this propose.
A motif of the Scarlet King is breaking people down, wearing people down mentally until submission. Another one being fear, create fear at all cost. This is what she’s been doing, purposely, for years with Clef. And she succeeded to a large extent; he’s got c-ptsd, he has a  disassociation disorder, and showing signs of amnesia at this point. If the Foundation (and various other GoI with lots of knowledge at hand) are to be believed and aren’t being idiots here, Reality Benders take a lot of shit happening to traumatize them that it’s almost never seen or heard of one getting one.
AND SHE MEANT TO GIVE HIM THESE, SHE WANTED HIM TO FEAR HER. TO THE POINT WHERE SHE MADE CLEF SOMETHING THAT HASN’T BEEN SEEN FOR CENTURIES OR THOUGHT TO BE IMPOSSIBLE.
FEAR IS THE POINT
Near the end of working with the GoC, Clef was taking more bounties, one after another after another. To stay the fuck away from her. He doesn’t want to return home, but he does because that’s what the cycle of abuse is. He has no one to trust but her. She has most of the money. He has nothing but her. And now he has a least one child on the way that he knows of. She made all of that. She wanted all of this.
The flood and Meri birth isn’t overly important here (until I get to the a part of what Lilly probably think of her daughter.) Except, we know Clef was found with a black eye, bleeding head from it being bashed into something, various cuts and bruises made on that day. The only wound on Lily was the head shot. There was evidence of someone throwing kitchen plates and other items. There are fake reality bent cats disemboweled and stung up by their guts in the bathroom. All of that happen while she probably had her water broken and a little bit after giving birth. After giving birth she should be exhausted and right before that pregnant people at full term averagely have a hard time just walking around. And she still wounded him to that extent.
We also see on this day Lily was trying to gaslight Clef into saying he had cheated on her. Weird, almost like you literally forced him to do it, which at this point is sex slavery. He is/was a sex slave around this point and doesn’t remembers fuck all about this. But why? There is a common abuse practice where the abuser tries cutting off a person’s entire circle, to be just them. The Goc was his last and only contact outside of her. She wanted to get him to say ‘yes I cheated’ to use it to guilt him to leave the GoC (she was trying this for a while as we can see) and then he would be stuck at the house to monitor 24/7. You know like a slave almost; her own boyfriend/husband that she supposedly loved.
THE FOUNDATION ALMOST DIDN’T FIND ANY OF THIS. THEY ONLY CHECKED THIS AREA AFTER SOMEONE SAID ’HEY THIS RADIO SIGNAL IS WEIRD MAYBE WE SHOULD CHECK IT OUT’ AND THEY ALMOST DIDN’T DO THAT. THEY ONLY THOUGHT IT HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH RAIN OR RADIO SIGNALS. THE GOC KNOW NOTHING UNTIL THE FOUNDATION CALL THEM UP LIKE ‘HEY FUCKERS WE NEED YOUR HELP.’ IT’S A MIRACLE THE CHILDREN OF THE SCARLET KING WERE EVER CAUGHT IN THE FIRST PLACE. THEY ALMOST GOT AWAY WITH IT ALL.
She made it to the point they (Lilly and the Cult) would’ve gotten away with this, with every child born and reality collapsing. Untold amount of lives lost in the area from periodic apocalypses. If it wasn’t for Clef shooting her for his and Meri’s safety, he almost didn’t do it. At this point he deep in the amnesia, he doesn’t even remember there being a basement, and definitely not the you know fucking pregnant child brides. He did it as a mercy killing thinking it’s from her going Level 4 Type Green.
So maybe she wasn’t really the best person, but could she have been not abusive to Meri?
No. She would have. Abusers don’t stop at one person, especially when they have a history of doing it to animals and loved ones (see the cats, Clef, random children.)
She wanted Meri in an act to bring the destruction of reality. Meri is a tool to keep Clef under her control; if she hurt Meri it would be ‘his fault.’ She doesn’t see her as a person, just a thing to meet end goals. In the bed scene Lily seem really distance to her already. Still complain to Clef about some vague thing he might have done, asking why he won’t ‘touch her’ aka why don’t you willing have sex with me, telling him how bad it is to be in the GoC to get him to quit. From her it was just Clef Clef Clef, dismissive, shaming, and gaslighting. This could just be Clefs memory at this point but it kinda concerning none the less.
Oh I might have forgot about some Scarlet King Lore. The second generation of kids from him, his daughters, and vessels are called Leviathans. Despite what popular fandom canon, he gives zero shits about them, he only cares about him, his goal, and original 7 daughters/now wives. The Leviathans are used as canon fodder for the Scarlet King’s war on the Three Death Brothers and the Tree of Knowledge. He kills these kids without hesitation at the first perceived sight of disloyalty. The mothers are knowingly raising them as war machines to die. He kill A’habbat’s (7th bride) kids (SCP 999) as soon as possible so they can’t stop him.
If Lilly is acting like the Scarlet King in this respect and knows this is what will happen to her child the instant reality collapses, She doesn’t give a fuck about her. Meri was born to die in a war she will never comprehend and both her mothers (Lilly & A’tivik) will never think about her again after she is gone.
Nor any of the other Leviathans being made, she’d has even less connection to them. Meri at least has being in her stomach for 9 months.
Clef is the only one in this family that gives a shit about these kids, and look at him and their containment. If you apply the Law of Concrete she knows that these Leviathans might just always get contained by the Foundation (though all her info on them comes from the Cotsk and the Codex), so she even has a vague idea what Foundation testing is.
Does she seem redeemable in the slightest at this point!? Does this whole thing not disgust you to hell and back!?
So what could you do about your headcanon or AU? Yeah, you reading this might have forgot this is what this whole post was about. Headcanons and bad jokes. The Montauk House article itself tries pulling this same trick to make you kinda forget about 231 instances and the basement while reading it.
Well the easiest is to trash it or keep it personal. However there is another thing you could do.
SCP 4231 is not the only canon origin for Clef, Lilly, and Meri. It’s actual a very specific canon compared with all of the wiki writings.
While there are many. The best option if you must, is the origin for SCP-166-AR. Meri had a rewritten at some point and the newer SCP-166 also points to this canon still, Rituals/Leviathan!166 is very much its own thing and not baseline SCP canon.
The origin is much simpler and less graphic.
Clef and Lilly either had a prior relationship or just a one night stand. This may or may not also involve non consent, I’ve read many contradiction if it was a thing or that was 4231 bleeding in. Clef and Lilly hadn't meet up in a while, like a good chuck of years having Meri during this time. Clef came back, with the GoC unfortunately, to kill her for a bounty. This Lilly was this doing some magic rituals that would kinda end the world, but more in the sense of restart nature and humanity not complete and utter genocide of everyone. Usually referring to bringing back the Garden of Eden in concept. Clef didn’t know Meri was born, shot Lilly, and than found Meri hiding in a bush near. He than snuck her around and away from the GoC brought her to an out of the way nun church in Ireland, and than fucked off. The Foundation found Meri years after this and they had no idea Clef was the father until he said something/DNA testing.
That’s usable. That can be redeemed. She probably is a good(ish) mother in this canon itself.
But please never use SCP 4231 Lily, not even in a tagging sense (the main SCP 4231 tag or SCP 4231 A tag), if you make stuff for this. Everyone in that tag is thinking of everything I’ve written about above. They aren’t thinking about Lilly as a character encompassing hundreds of different canons. They are thinking about a domestic abuser rapist child sex trafficker that wanted to kill, torture, and enslave everyone in every universe she could get her hands on given the chance.
Nicer and better tags I’ve seen are SCP Lilly and Threat Entity 9927-Black.
That main tag is uses primarily, and a large amount of SCP 4231 fandom subculture, is using stuff in there for their own trauma. It’s a smaller safe space for testing the waters (unintentional joke) of what themselves and others have gone through from varying abuse. Extremely on the side of Clef’s experiences. Lilly is not to be brought up in any positive way. You can very easily fuck someone’s mental state from make light of this on and off Tumblr (I’ve accidentally did that to someone on the SCP meme Reddit, this isn’t a Tumblr thing this is the SCP Fandom as a whole.)
Please just think for a second before touching very serious topics. Most of SCP aren't very serious; SCP 4231 is one with a very serious and specific topic, and should be treated with care.
Flood jokes are funny, the flood itself is free game from what I can see.
I didn’t mean to be overall aggressive in this whole thing, but I really want someone who doesn’t understand why this is a big problem. And I needed to say this in the most encompassing way that people could get a wake up call. And talking about the story as a whole and never leaving SCP 231 out of this was that way.
If you made it to the end of this post, thank you for sticking through this essay psa post and slight rant. Take a break, get some water and some food, get some meds if you need them, take some deep breaths. Take some time to decompress from any stress that may have come from this. Take care of yourself.
13 notes · View notes
akamikazae · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Love me Mercilessly 🍁Kakashi x Akami🍁 Chapter 31: Pop-Culture and the Shinobi Dream word Count: 13k tw: Violence, gore, mentions of canonical character death, ptsd, traumatic episode, sex, sexual violence (kind of, well it is, but there is not malicious intent behind it) previous chapters: Ao3 or under my tag 'Love me Mercilessly'
Kakashi had a lot of really big reasons to be depressed. He thought about those big reasons every single day because feeling awful was all he had now, it was one of the few ways he got to feel close to all the people he lost.  Logically he knew that these big reasons were the direct cause of his depression. A therapist would agree, but Kakashi didn’t want to admit that he had a problem (or problems rather.) He didn’t like change or confrontation and it was easier to get depressed over a series of small things he held in his heart until one finally squashed it like a bug. 
His mission to Kiri was quick and simple, he was away for little more than a week. Every night he actually managed to fall asleep he woke up in a start from another nightmare. They weren’t like the first one, he didn’t have to watch Akami and Sasuke die. They were worse, because this time round he was directly responsible for their demise. 
He wondered if it was amplified because he came face to face with Kiri Anbu in their territory. Confronted by the same stark white maks and balanced red swirls just like the night he was forced to murder Rin. He swore his muscles remembered and he felt a tingle run from his wrist to his elbow. 
A therapist would say he was ‘triggered’, or at least he thought one would, Kakashi didn’t see a therapist. It wasn’t covered by his insurance, he told himself that was the only reason he didn’t, he wondered how many other operatives used that same excuse. Akami swore they did it on purpose, if asked she would have said ‘the Village likes their shinobi fucked in head, power and bravery doesn’t scare anyone—someone with a few screws loose…well that’s terrifying.’ And ANBU was a special kind of fucked. 
Yet still he knew that people didn’t get fucked up like the way he was now from a bad dream or two–especially over a bad dream that his skewed psyche imagined all on its own—he knew this the same way he knew that the stove top would be hot if he turned it on. But knowing it was hot and knowing a dream wasn’t real wouldn’t prevent him from getting burned. 
And his nightmares had not been so grotesque and recurring since the first few weeks he thrust his fist through Rin’s chest; it was a feeling he’d never forget, but lately his hand skewed Akami’s heart instead. His screws weren't loose, he was missing them entirely.
Sometimes they were kids, sometimes it was now, and sometimes they were really really old. It wasn’t that Akami replaced Rin in that dark swamp land that night but rather they’d be hanging around her house; on the couch, at the table, in her bed, in the yard and the next thing he knew he singed a hole straight through her. She never screamed, or cursed or cried. The only sound was the chirping of birds screeching inside the cage of her ribs.  
He didn’t remember when he’d shoot his arm out like a bolt of lightning but he did remember what it felt like when her heart grew cold and the way Sasuke would look at him, his face contorted to a scream, but no sound could crawl it’s way out. Sometimes nightmare Akami wouldn’t let him pull away, she’d hold on to his elbow and dig her nails into his forearm and hold him close until rigor mortis set in and he’d have to pry her cold dead fingers off, and sometimes he wouldn’t. He’d stay like that until he woke up cause if he pulled away she’d be gone forever. 
And just like his very first dream she was never mad at him—not like the way he imagined nightmare Rin to be—and it hurt more that Akami didn’t get mad. She’d look at him completely shocked and utterly betrayed while Sasuke’s tiny fists hammered into his back and his tears stained his shirt.  
continue reading on Ao3
4 notes · View notes
manwhowouldbeking · 1 year
Text
Da Roolz
mun is 29 years of age and will only interact with muns 21+.
this blog is low activity and selective in following. personal & non-mutual blogs may follow and send in asks. if you're not involved in a thread... don't touch it. if i say no to a plot, ship, etc. please do not push it.
my activity will be unpredictable; i may be super active for a time then vanish for longer. real life is chaos, i'm disabled and have a job (wheeze), and frankly this is neither my only blog nor is rp my only hobby.
use anon for fun, not for being mean. keep me out of any drama. i see any callout posts, vagues, or anything... yeet. don't care who's involved. yeet.
crossover, multimuse, and oc friendly. no duplicate anxiety, only duplicate mayhem. for crossover rp, we can either go the old "tumblr rp multiverse" route, or get schemey and plot some wack space-time shit. or just, plot and scheme in general.
i like. to scheme.
any nature of relationship is cool with me; friends, rivals, straight up trying to kill each other enemies, mentor, bring it on. shipping will only be considered with muses over the age of 21 and requires OOC communication. do not rp with me with the sole intention of smut.
this blog will feature numerous intense topics, situations, etc. that may be triggering. notably: PTSD, war trauma, suicide, abuse, existentialism, psychosis, dissociation, violence/gore...
i will tag commonly triggering content as best i can (#example tw) but as a forewarning that i may be unable to tag everything and/or miss posts that would call for such tags.
if you are triggered by any of the aforementioned or squeamish, follow at your own risk and if you do, let me know if you'd like anything specifically tagged.
3 notes · View notes
Text
‼️TWs for this account: sh, ed, drug stuff/addiction, and other mental illness-related triggers, as well.
**This account is pro-recovery**
Hello!
I made this blog to let out a lot of the feelings I don't feel comfortable telling people in day-to-day life. I'm going to post about a lot of negative feelings I have or bad things that happen to me. That being said, I'm a person who has fought this negativity for twenty-three years, and I have no intention of stopping. I harbor too much love to give up. I'd just like this blog to be a place to dump my thoughts no matter what they may be.
I have Schizoaffective disorder, ptsd, and an ed. (Possibly more, but who knows)
5 notes · View notes
dolloshub · 2 years
Text
On Trauma triggers, ghosts in the shell - OS
TW: PTSD
Tumblr media
Previously doll has described its role and function. If doll’s story, it’s existence Is a book, then Owner is the writer, doll is the main character, and OS is Owner’s pen.
Doll, as many already know was created from the ashes of trauma, PTSD, and the wirings of a DiD system.
Even with all of the programming, with all of the progress, trauma triggers, bugs in the code of apps still exist.
Owner and doll refer to these as “Trauma Landmines”.
OS thought it would be helpful to write about how we currently frame trauma triggers, and how we handle them.
The way OS describe these trauma triggers , bugs in its programming to others and of course to Owner is as follows…
There are trauma landmines in this mind, some obvious, some mapped, and some that are hidden and don’t make sense.
Once the landmine is tripped, doll’s mind is transported back in time and place. It may have flashbacks, It may have a strong emotional response, It may have extreme personality changes. For all intents and purposes it is no longer his doll, but rather the girl that doll was made from.
When this happens, doll, OS no longer is in the now.
It’s no longer on the page of my book that was currently being written, and is instead im a different book completely, and within that book on a page not of its own choosing.
Doll has been transported to a different time, place, and identity- reliving an event or period or area from life of the girl that is no more, a ghost in the shell.
Doll’s or perhaps more accurately the girl that was’ mind is on a loop trying to solve and reconcile what happened in this event, a story of her life, that makes sense. Trying, fruitlessly to reshape the puzzle piece until it fits. Because of course it’ll fit, it came with the rest of the puzzle pieces right? right‽
When this happens, doll is no longer doll, in the now, the page of its book - the one OS has been tasked with to write, and is currently being written.
It’s as if doll has had another’s memory, an entire life inserted- pushed into its mind. Like itself, but definitely, certainly not doll. Like doll, but so much more and so much less.
Doll is, for all intents and purposes reliving an event, period or area of the girl that was, her life, not doll’s existence.
Doll you see, is never ready for such bugs in the code, these fragments of code that shouldn’t be. Doll of course is custom coded, designed, its memories intentional- picked and chosen to avoid such pages, such events. What is this, when is this, is this now?
Looking at this book, it’s pages, doll is confused. How can it read another’s story, isn’t OS supposed to be the pen, and yet certainly oS has never written any of these pages.
Yet this book is what doll’s mind is made of, everything else ceases to be, the words on this page, all that it is made of, is, and could be exist within these words on this page. This mind has been and always will be this girl, in this moment- no future, no past.
Just. This. Page.
How, why, shouldn’t this be impossible?
These words, their pages have been relived so many times that the words are engrained, the pages are reinforced and too easily accessible. As if to scream “pick me, pick me!
The page advertises- The story is good one, you won’t regret it!”
I am this girl now in this moment, stuck on that page. My mind can’t be rationed with, it can’t be reasoned with, because it’s not in the present, it’s in the now. Yet Now hasn’t happened and never will. Not for this girl. But this must be now right, of course it is!
Right now, for reasons I’ll never understand I’m here, wherever here is. I… I don’t know.
I question to myself “is this now”, such a silly question, of course it is. You’re a smart girl. If this wasn’t “now” you’d know right? Right?…..
Why is it all that is, my entire existence is just now, this page. Why does is hurt so much, why does it simply not fit. Why do I have to keep reliving this page?
Why the bad pages and not the good, or here.. in the present…with everything else just gone, did it really ever exist, or somehow erased? Does it matter? No. For there is only now.
The worst periods of my life, or maybe the only periods worth saving, constantly referenced, referred to..not just remembering them, but relieving, retracing the experience, over and over, all the while trying to solve a puzzle that can’t solved, reshaped, made to fit.
Why is this puzzle piece so used, held together by tape and stitches. Who in their right mind would stitch these pages to reinforce them?
These pages….Every time one is accessed, all the words on a page is retraced, the experience is slightly different but just as intense, just as real, just as now. It is my only existence. It is my life.
Just like any other memory, the focus or what stands out can be different, sometimes it’s emotion, sometimes it’s nightmares, sometimes it’s stress, or freezing or regression, sometimes it’s anger, sometimes it’s helplessness, sometimes it’s guilt.
But it’s always a loop. Have I accessed this page before? What comes before, what comes after. Is this now.. of course it is, what, when, who else could this be if it’s not me, if this isn’t now.
I am for all intents and purposes not the girl I was a minute ago, I’m the girl,l that was, exactly when and how she was..or is. Transported to another page, another reference point, this page just as retraced.
This mind is of me, but how can that be? How can I be if I no longer exist! And yet here I am girl that exists on this page. Here. Now. This, this is now right‽
Doll is always caught off guard, and it’s programming isn’t yet capable of handling such bugs. Doll did not expect this landmine, and these landmines can break doll’s code. But doll has yet to become, yet to be, cannot be. For I, I am me.
Doll starts to come to- Is this now? What happened… analysis please. This diagnostic report shows a code fragment from the girl that was that got corrupted when the girl that is no longer was converted to doll. Whatever code doll was running had halted until this code played itself out.
What took over, stared running is a fragment of code, the book of the girl from before. And for a time, doll ceased to be, unable to execute its programming. Instead this fragment, this other story is doll’s existence, it’s reality.
It’s like doll existed one moment and the next a girl from the past is back, with all the baggage it had, all the damage, all the pain. It creates the illusion that no progress has been made and all of this has been for not.
Owner and OS- We both know the illusion, but it’s still real and still happening, in the moment it’s frustrating to doll who is locked out, and to Owner who feels like there’s no way to break this loop, debug this code so these triggers stop opening the most traumatic pages of a girl that no longer exists. It’s maddening.
With this knowing of at least “why and what” is happening, we are making progress. It helps both OS and Owner understand that it’s not him or anything that he did wrong.
It’s also not doll in this moment, but instead it’s the girl that was, or at least an echo of the worst pages of her own book and story.
In these moments, we know that trying to solve code glitch, the loop, right after the landmine is triggered isn’t going to work because the doll that was just there is now in another book, that neither it nor Owner created.
And that book is back and flipped to a page, which tells a traumatic story that this girl could not make sense of, cannot fit into the narrative of her life.
They say knowledge is power. But knowledge can also be resiliency empathy, compassion. Without understanding neither doll nor Owner could survive these landmines.
It has taken so much of the blame and pressure out of these triggers, when I’m alone, when I’m together. It’s allowed me to find ways to access those pages in controlled environments to work on them when I’m able to do so with
Progress? Gosh- OS hopes so.
9 notes · View notes
eveyez-exe · 1 year
Text
So I've seen some reactions to the changes made in episode 8 and to the character of David in the HBO show and I have some thoughts..
TW: GROOMING, ABUSE AND R*PE.
As an afab survivor of grooming, abuse and r*ape I actually appreciate the change of Davids intentions being this explicit in the show.
Because I've talked to so many people who have played the game that outright deny that David was a pedophile. I've straight up experienced gaslighting and that people invalidate my trauma, telling me that I'm delusional for even suggesting it.
And it made his death that much more cathartic to watch. Because I had a "David" in my life that abused me for two years between the ages of 12 and 14. I've always related to this section of the game.
Did both the game and the show trigger my PTSD? Yes. But for me, the show felt in many ways more respectful as well as cathartic to my own experiences of childhood abuse. And I also loved that Ellie saved herself and that her reunion with Joel was centered around her emotional turmoil after the fact. I like that better than how it is in the game.
5 notes · View notes
Text
So I am in the Life Is Strange Fandom & the Stranger Things Fandom (i like strange shit ig), also She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Fandom and jesus fucking christ. This is gonna be a long one so sit tight.
SPOILERS FOR LIFE IS STRANGE (& BEFORE THE STORM), STRANGER THINGS, and SHE-RA and the Princesses of Power. TW/CW for all of the things in those games and that show, you can look them up online, LIS especially has lots of results for looking up trigger warnings and stuff.
If you look through our page there are. a lot. of billy defending posts and stuff. I am a hardcore Billy apologist/defender. But I'm also a defender and sort of apologist for Nathan Prescott. And they both are just about universally hated by their respective fandoms.
I am very much against the demonization and villainization of both of them and any mentally ill, abused, groomed & manipulated teenager/barely adult (*cough cough* Catra, and i will bring this up later as well *cough cough*). And I also am very much against comparing trauma, abuse, etc. to say that one person deserved better than the other. That's not what I will be doing. This is an analysis post, and while I will be comparing them at times, NEVER, will I say that one of them is better or worse. Because THAT'S THE FUCKING ISSUE WITH YOU BILLY ANTI'S. And I will die before I end up like you guys. There is no "bad" abuse victim or "good" abuse victim. There is no "good" or "bad" abuse. Lastly by the end of both of their lives and respective piece of medias (at least the parts that have them in it) they are both redeemed. If you believe otherwise just fuck off, I don't want you here.
——————————————————————————
Let's start with Nathan Prescott. He is a 19 (barely) yr old at the time of the first LIS game. He is barely an adult, and still a teenager. The thing that kicks off the game is the mc Max rewinding time unknowingly after watching Nathan shoot a girl (Chloe) with a gun in a bathroom. While impact is always more important than intent, you don't get to ignore intent either. So let's go over what happens in the moments leading up to the shooting of Chloe.
He enters the bathroom (keep in mind we see all of this from Max's perspective hidden behind a stall) and goes to one of the sink mirrors and talks to himself, basically trying to calm himself down and get some sense of control. Chloe then enters and they have a conversation about her demanding money since she knows he is from a rich family and has been giving out drugs at the school, in turn for not telling everyone that, in her words, he is a "punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself." While they are having this conversation you can tell he is becoming more erratic, his breathing as he talks is faster than natural and he is panicked.
When she threatens him with that and pushes him he cuts her off, pushing her off of him and pulls out a gun, notice HE DOES NOT DO ANYTHING UNTIL THREATENED AND PHYSICALLY TOUCHED. She backs up against the wall and he gets close to her, aiming the gun at her stomach and yells, "Don't EVER tell me what to do! I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" and again his breathing is uneven.
He smacks his hand on the wall a couple times while he talks to her, which could be seen as an intimidation tactic but it seeing as he is also panicked and the fact that he very much has BPD, C-PTSD, and he is probably autistic (while this is not confirmed, if you are autistic it is very easy to see the, probably unintentional, autistic coding of him throughout the games.), this could very well be more of a self regulating (aka stimming) behaviour. Everytime he does it it's when HE is talking, to calm himself down a bit for when it is her "turn" to speak which will no doubt push him to being more upset.
Speaking of pushing. AGAIN. She pushes him, which this time is completely fair and valid for her since he has a gun leveled at her stomach and she is scared, but again, he doesn't actually accelerate his actions until physically touched/pushed, this time he shoots her. And while not necessarily as obvious until you see the same scene again at the end of the game if you choose the Save Arcadia Bay option where the scene actually gets to play out more instead of being rewinded, Nathan did not mean to shoot Chloe.
He shouldn't have had the gun, and he shouldn't have had his finger on the trigger, and he shouldn't have shot her, none of that should have happened, and it's not excusable, but it is COMPLETELY understandable if you look at his behaviour during the scene as well as the fact that he is and has been abused for his whole life and he is mentally ill. When he accidentally pulls the trigger after being pushed off, the gun fires and shoots her in the stomach and she falls to the ground dead, in the Save Arcadia Bay ending we see his reaction to this where he drops the gun, and proceeds to freak the fuck out. there is no dialogue that we can hear from him during this, but he starts pacing holding his hands to his head, he even goes and tries to shake her awake at one point, obviously she is dead and it doesn't work but he is scared and panicked and doesn't know what to do.
This is just the first like 10 maybe 15 minutes of the game. Throughout most of the rest of the game he is just a bully and a privileged asshole, until the end. We'll get to that later. That's really the main thing he does during the game that is that bad, all the other stuff happens before the game takes place. Now lets go to the prequel Before The Storm which. takes place before the storm.... duh doi. It takes place either 2 or 3 years before the first game if I remember correctly and is from Chloe's perspectice and Chloe & Nathan and a lot of the other characters are roughly 16.
Nathan was still kind of a prick to people back then though I don't know if he was necessarily a bully? He definitely was getting bullied though, even in the first episode we see one of the other jocks takes his photo album/portfolio (which is a very fucking important and often times sentimental to anyone who does photography). The jock is angry that Nathan is on the team and even fucking calls him Twitch. (I very much consider this a slur, and unless you suffer from this shit and have been called it like we have you don't get a say on whether it is or not.) MULTIPLE. TIMES. He is very fucking ableist and a pos.
He even threatens to throw the portfolio into a water fountain, which would destroy all the photos. For those of you unaware of photography stuff. Portfolios. Take. Forever. To put together. It is hourssss of work and effort. Nathan does say something in response to the jock that is not cool, and normally I would not let slide, but if you're called a slur by someone I feel like you should have every right to fight back and be a bit of a bitch. Later in BtS we see and overhear his shit excuse for a father be verbally abusive to him and by the behaviour of both of them in that scene and with Nathan's language (both verbal and body language) you can tell this isn't new. This has happened before, a lot, and absolutely will happen again.
So to summarize, he is an abused teenager with C-PTSD, BPD, and is probably autistic, who has no actual father figure or any ounce of actual support in his life. (Sounds very similar if not exactly like Billy, the only difference being Billy is poor and Nathan is rich) Then a teacher from Nathan's school, Mr. Jefferson, comes along and takes him under his wing and protection, basically becomes like a father to Nathan. But Mr. Jefferson over the years also manipulates and gaslights him, he's just better at making it not as obvious, and he grooms Nathan into being like him, and doing things for/with him.
Mr. Jefferson is able to get money from Nathan's abusive pos father, and have a Dark Room built. And he has Nathan drug girls at Club parties and they kidnap them, bringing them back to the Dark Room and taking photos of them and shit. Remember. Nathan. Has been. Groomed. And Manipulated. Into. Doing this. He does not actually fucking want to hurt anyone. Also. He is a vulnerable fucking teenager boy.
Skip forward by a lot to a bit before the first game takes place. Rachel Amber (Chloe's girlfriend) has gone missing, we find out by the end of the game that she is dead and buried in a junkyard. Through Mr. Jefferson we learn that Nathan drugged her and brought her to the Dark Room and was attempting to do what Jefferson had been doing. But that he messed up and gave her an overdose on accident and it killed her. WE LEARN THIS. FROM THE BITCH. WHO HAS BEEN MANIPULATING EVERYONE SINCE BEFORE THE GAME EVEN STARTS. HE EVEN SAYS AT ONE POINT THAT HE CAN/WILL BLAME ALL OF THIS ON NATHAN AND THE PRESCOTT FAMILY. I absolutely do not believe that Nathan actually killed her.
Right before the game takes place another party happens and Nathan has to drug another girl and take her back to Jefferson, Kate Marsh. This girl survives like most of Jefferson's victims did presumably, we don't see any of the others in the games but based off context clues we can assume deaths were not intended, 'cept for Rachel by Jefferson. Kate Marsh was recorded at the party and then bullied and slut shamed for the... content. of said video. She had already been drugged by the point the video had been started, she remembers during the games time that Nathan took her somewhere, she thought it was a hospital but it was actually the Dark Room.
She gets bullied to a point that in Episode 2 you have to save her from jumping off a building in front of everyone and commiting suicide, you can fail or succeed, it all depends on your choices. Nathan was in the crowd of people at the bottom and saw this happen.
Now let's cut to the end of the game. Max was kidnapped by Jefferson (also Victoria if you successfully warn her about Nathan and the Dark Room. so... don't warn her. ik that sounds wrong but it actually saves her.) and Chloe has been shot again and killed, by Jefferson. Jefferson tells Max while she is kidnapped in the Dark Room that Nathan is dead and buried. Jefferson killed him to cover his tracks. It is implied he was dead before Max and Chloe even left the party and ended up getting kidnapped at the junkyard when they went to check to see if Rachel's body was still there.
A bunch of time shit happens and eventually David (the security guard and Chloe's step-dad) comes and save Max (potentially killing Jefferson if you tell him he killed Chloe). Max leaves the bunker and takes Jefferson's car and heads off to the Two Whales Diner, during the cutscene of her driving she checks her phone that Jefferson took and left in his car. She has one missed call and she lets the voicemassage play. It's from Nathan (and I'm gonna be 100% when I heard his voice during this, I fucking broke down) and it was from 9 pm the night before, the night of the party, not long before he died.
He called to tell Max he was sorry, that he didn't wanna hurt Rachel, or Kate, that he didn't wanna hurt anyone. Everyone used him. And that Jefferson was coming for him, and that he'd be coming after Max next and for her to watch out and be careful. He had to hide and basically wait for Jefferson to come kill him. And he could've done anything with what little time he had left, but he chose to warn Max for her safety and tell her as much as he could, apoligize as much as he could. All while crying and sobbing while waiting for his death. He is 18 when this happens.
The same age Billy dies, sacrificing himself for his sister, her friends, and a stranger who is the first person to ever show him any kindness since his mother left him as a kid to be abused for the rest of his life.
Billy had no chance from the get go. Since he was a child. For a while he had his mother to take the abuse for him from his pos excuse for a father, Neil. He had to watch his mother get abused to protect him for years, until eventually she left. And she didn't take him with her. Then Neil turned his abuse on to him. Then Neil started dating Susan, and her, and her daughter Max move in. (I am gonna be referring to Max as a girl for the sake of this because that's what cannon but I absolutely believe Max is trans)
The only sense of safety he has left at this point is that he lives in California, where he grew up, where he knows the ins and outs of his neighborhood, and as someone who has and is still growing up in an all too similar situation to his, he absolutely had escape routes planned and hideouts all over the town he grew up in. Then that gets taken away too. He's forced to move with his abusive father, step-mother who doesn't fucking stop the abuse, and step-sister who he takes the abuse for like his mom did for him, to a new town, with new weather, and new people, across the country.
He asserts his dominance at school as soon as he steps out of his Camaro, STOMPING his feet onto the new ground. He has to gain as much control and power as he can as quick as he can or else he won't survive here, and he knows that. He quickly becomes the new top dog, the spot being left open now that Steve has sort of left his title of King Steve. When you are being constantly abused, at "home" and you have no control or any way to stop it. You do whatever you can to survive, and anytime you can leave and go get a sense of control elsewhere? You do it. School as horrible as it is, is an escape for a lot of people, same with sleepovers, they're a way to escape the abuse for a little bit.
Let's keep in mind that he doesn't just get abused for "his actions". (Idk how to word it otherwise but I wanna clarify, no ones deserves abuse or brings that upon themselves, the blame is on the abuser) He gets abused for "Max's actions" too. If she runs away or does something Neil doesn't like, Billy takes responsibility. Some people like to say that he only does that because he has to, because Neil forces him to be a parent for Max and take responsibility for her. And while that is absolutely what Neil does. He absolutely would take it for Max anyway. Especially after growing up with his mom doing that for him.
Also, I am not gonna touch on the "racism" bit because I have other posts that go in detail about that and debunking/explaining that. So feel free to go look for those, but I will say, racism is not inherent. It is learned.
His relationship with Max is not healthy, I absolutely will never say that it is. But. again, it is understandable. Neither of them necessarily love the situation they've been forced into. We know that they do actually care about each other, but that doesn't make their relationship any healthier or less toxic. He is verbally abusive, and one time he is physically abusive. I clarify that it is only one time not because that means "oh well he isn't an asshole it only happened once" abuse is abuse, it still happened.
But to bring attention to the fact that people think what happened in the car was normal and frequent when it obviously isn't. He grabs her wrist loosely causing her to flinch and look at him in surprise and shock. As someone who was constantly physically abused and who literally has trauma in relation to being grabbed by the wrist and pinned to the ground. YOU DO NOT REACT LIKE THAT AT SOMETHING THAT IS A FREQUENT OCCURRENCE. Would you flinch, absolutely, but when you get abused, especially physically, on a frequent basis, or even if it's just happened more than like once or twice, you get used to it. You get conditioned to expect it.
She didn't expect him to grab her. And when she got her barings and he was done talking she was able to pull her wrist out of his grasp easily. Later in season 2 she runs away from the house WITH the person Billy told her to stay away from. Neil and Susan return home from a date(?) and see she's gone, then the infamous abuse scene happens. Susan just watches while Neil calls Billy a fag(got? o don't remember if it was the full word or not) and physically, verbally, and emotionally/psychologically abuses him "because" (again he does not deserve abuse but idk how else to word this) he was supposed to watch Max and she ran away while he is preparing for a date.
So Billy has to cancel his date and and go on a goose chase around this still unfamiliar town to look for her. He stops at the Wheeler house and Mrs. Wheeler opens the door and immediately it is obvious that she is.... interested, in Billy, a 17 yr. old. she's like 40. Billy gets the information he needs out of her and he ends up at the Byer house. Where Steve comes out to talk to him, and tells him a straight up, bold faced, lie. right to his face. That Max isn't there.
Billy then points out how fucking uncomfortable and creepy this situation is, this guy who is his age, has his sister, who he knows is there for sure when he sees her in the window, in a strangers house, and then lies about it. And coming from the situation at the Wheeler house, and the fact that he doesn't know Steve or any other sit about this town, the people, or any of the supernatural shit going on, it is absolutely sound reasoning that he would come to that conclusion. So he decks Steve and knocks him out temporarily.
He goes into the house and sees Max with a group of boys, one of them being the one he told her stay away from. And you can tell at this point that he is dissociated. He is having a panic attack, not the "good" kind where he simply just shuts down and hyperventilates like a lot of u fuckers believe is the only form of panic attack. He has tunnel vision, and he repeats the abuse scene from earlier, with Lucas. Steve eventually gets up, comes in, and pulls him off of Lucas, then Billy and Steve get into a fight. Billy beats the shit out of Steve, knocking him unconscious, after having taken a couple blows himself. His facial expressions during this scene make it very apparent that, IN HIS MIND, he is imagining Steve as Neil. He isn't almost k!lling this random classmate who has maybe done some creepy/fucked up shit. He is attempting to kill the man who has abused him his whole life, and has sent him here. BY NO FUCKING MEANS. AM I DEFENDING HIS ACTIONS (other than decking Steve outside because he had every reason to believe what he assumed was going on to be true).
Eventually Max does something, which is not nearly talked about enough and is JUST AS BAD as what Billy was doing to Steve. She took a syringe of SOMETHING, she didn't even fucking know what was in it or how high the dosage was of whatever it was, and injected Billy with drugs. That literally could've fucking killed him, just as easily as if he had finished what he was doing to Steve. She literally could've knocked him out with the bat! SHE USED IT LIKE FIVE SECONDS LATER TO THREATEN HIM INTO SUBMISSION, WHEN HE WAS ALREADY ALMOST PASSED OUT ON THE FLOOR, WITH THE SAME WORDS AS NEIL! And if any of you try to say some stupid shit like "oh the bat has nails" i will bite you. bats have two ends, and a long ass middle. I HAVE A NAILED BAT. Trust me, the bottom and other non-nailed parts can easily fucking knock someone out if you swing right.
He passes out and they leave him, UNCONSCIOUS & ALONE, in the house with no fucking protection. THERE ARE LITERAL DEMODOGS AND SHIT EVERYWHERE. HE COULD HAVE DIED AGAIN. And we don't see him again until the next season. Where he, other than the fatphobic comment he gives one of the kids at the pool, doesn't do shit. Him and Max are at the very least back to how it was before Hawkins if not better (aka neutral). He has been groomed by Karen and sexualized by her as well as many other older women at the pool, keep in mind. HE IS BARELY FUCKING 18 AT THIS POINT. BARELY AN ADULT. Also I would like to mention that Karen doesn't cancel her and Billy's date because she realized "Oh I'm a creepy, disgusting, groomy fuck." She canceled it because she "has a family and doesn't want to hurt them" (and then continues to for the most part ignore everything that's going on with them for the rest of the season and show, tho not nearly as much as T*d)
Until the very end of the season he is Mind Flayed. He is a vulnerable, abused, mentally ill teenager, just like Nathan (other than the class difference), and he gets controlled/brainwashed and forced to kill a bunch of people and do the Mind Flayer's bidding. He is only freed of the MF's control when a random girl, he has never met, shows him kindness. pure, genuine, innocent fucking kindness. This girl who owes him nothing, who he has never met, looks at him and sees what all of you idiots refuse to see. The truth. That he is a scared. And hurt. Teenager. Who was robbed of a fucking childhood, and life. Just like her. And she reminds him of the last time he was happy. A beautiful day on the beach with his mom, when he was just a little boy and could still see the best in people. And that is all it takes to break him out of the MF's control. And he doesn't get to verbally apologize like Nathan did, but lile Nathan he did sacrifice his life to protect those around him who were in danger. His sister, her friends, and this young girl who just saved him, and gave him one last moment of happiness and peace.
These two characters are treated so horribly by the creators and fandom. While Catra, while in the first couple seasons people absolutely treated like shit, eventually, and especially by the end of the show, just about everyone forgave. She has C-PTSD, BPD, and again is (although maybe unintentionally) coded to be autistic. She grew up and wasn't able to escape her abusive "home" for a majority of the show. And the two times she does she almost immediately starts getting better.
She went from having one person who was supposed to be a parent figure control and abuse her, to someone with even more power control and abuse her, taking advantage of the whole that was left from the first abuser and her sense of safety, Adora, leaving/being taken away. She has multiple panic attacks, and in the wasteland where she has started healing and getting better, finding out that her abuser/mother figure left her for Adora, sends her into a fucking tailspin. She has full tunnel vision and returns to the only thing familiar she has left. "Home". And she almost destroys the entire planet/universe as well as attempts to kill herself because she has nothing and no one left.
Then the she gets save in season 5, she did "One good thing" and sent Glimmer away from her prison, back to Adora, and apologized. That was the moment a lot of us generally agreed she was redeemed. She didn't think Adora would come back to save her, she expected to die, and she was fine with that. But Adora did save her, and she, along with the rest of the group, showed her kindness. And she started healing.
There are maybe 3 differences between Catra and Billy & Nathan.
1. Catra was younger, by like a year or two. I believe she was 16-17 throughout the course of the show (other than flashbacks obviously duh doi).
2. She wasn't given only the option of death or prison (if u choose Save Arcadia Bay at the end of LIS he gets arrested and sent to prison not a mental help facility or anything just straight up prison). Once Adora saved her she had the choice to get dropped off on a planet to wither away and die on, which she almost chose, though not out of not having another way out or self-sacrifice. And the second option she was allowed, life. Live and fight with the group and help make the world better.
3. Before I say this one, I'm gonna clarify something because I KNOW, someone is gonna try to say I'm just a misogynistic piece of shit, when I am literally only talking about statistical facts. I am a trans man. and yes trans men can be misogynistic, ANYONE CAN BE MISOGYNISTIC, WOMEN TOO. But I am only actually percieved as a man by myself, my fellow system members, and SOME other trans people. I don't have male privilege, and by almost eveyone else in the world I am seen as a girl and am treated as a girl.
She's a girl. It is a hard fucking fact, that when boys (and people percieved by the general population as boys, the world is transphobic, thats another fact) get abused and end up lashing out (except for when they SA someone then society always believes the guy) they get demonized and treated like shit. Compared to when that happens with a girl (or someone who is perceived as one by the general population, again the world is transphobic) most people will say either choose to defend said girl and say she had no other choice or, there are those are just SO sexist and misogynistic that they will say shit like "oh she must be on her period" and other stuff like that. Girls are listened to and believed when being abused not even half the time (except for SA which again is EVEN LOWER), and boys are believed even less than that. Because this stupid fucking world is sexist, misogynistic, homo/transphobic, and all of that shit. And especially. Ableist.
If someone is a victim they are expected and forced to be the "shy meek victim" if they want any support or kindness. The moment they aren't what people perceive as a "good" victim they not only don't believe them and belittle them. They demonize and villainize them, and, like with Billy, even say they deserve to be abused and deserve to die.
Wrap-up Time/Final Notes: Victims. Are. Victims. There is no "good" or "right" way to be a victim. And there is no "bad" or "wrong" way to be a victim. I say this not only for you pieces of shit who treat us like we're horrible people for acting out and fighting back against our abuse, but also for anyone who has gotten this far who may need to hear it. Obviously not everyone can fight back and stuff, that could put you in more danger. But know that no matter what, you are valid, you're feelings, experiences, trauma, everything. There are some us out there who will listen and be there for you, we might not be able to help you escape completely, but we can at the very least lend an ear. No one is "better" or "more deserving of help" than you. We shouldn't be fighting each other for air, that is how the world works, it pits us against each other, but we can fight back for the right to live, and for those of us who are unable? I can't speak for eveyone, but we will gladly fight for you're air to breathe to the best of our ability. We all deserve to not have to survive, we deserve to live. ACTUALLY live. And be happy, and safe, and at peace.
-Signing off. Jace Rudolph Briar
(It/Its, Lem/Lemon, Pix/Pixel, and Muff/Muffin)
5 notes · View notes