[frustror]

FRUSTROR ⠀ /ˈfruːs.tror/, ⠀ [ˈfruːs̠t̪rɔr]: ⠀ 1. ⠀ to ⠀ disappoint , ⠀ frustrate , ⠀ deceive , ⠀ trick , ⠀ or ⠀ fail . ⠀ 2. ⠀ a ⠀mutuals-only , ⠀low-activity ⠀sideblog ⠀for ⠀zeke ⠀yeager ⠀of ⠀attack ⠀on ⠀titan ⠀( shingeki ⠀no ⠀kyojin ) , ⠀written ⠀by ⠀mykie ⠀( she / her , ⠀he / him , ⠀twenty-two ) . ⠀minors ⠀& ⠀personals ⠀dni .

follows ⠀/ ⠀ likes⠀ from ⠀ witswords .

a ⠀study ⠀in ⠀generational ⠀trauma , ⠀body ⠀/ ⠀ medical ⠀ horror , ⠀father ⠀figures , ⠀messiah ⠀complexes , ⠀nihilism , ⠀& ⠀ deception .

carrd wip . refer to rules on @witswords .

[projectiondepartment]

untitled (destroy superabundance...) from inflammatory essays, jenny holzer. 1979/82

[mournfulroses]

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "The Crows," featured in New & Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

[frustror]

he is not good at this, he knows. he is acutely aware of the fact as he scrapes the chair across the floor, sits down and arranges himself in it mechanically, crosses one leg over the other and reaches into his pocket to fish for the carton of cigarettes he keeps there.

he is not a man made for heart-to-hearts. he is an automaton of apathy, their war chief. he assesses the best approach, takes a methodical scalpel to the conversation. porco is not like the others — he is bark and bite, all teeth. he does not require the same sensitivity as some of the others do, a deceptive kind of coddling that dissipates the moment their boots step onto the haunted ground of a battlefield. perhaps he would appreciate something more forthright.

zeke props a cigarette between his lips, flicks the lighter beneath the pad of his thumb as porco watches him. he is an actor on a stage, puppeteered here by his superiors who are somehow under the impression porco might glean some kind of wisdom from him. or perhaps they're more interested in sending zeke to pry one last time, assessing whether they've raised their cattle well enough to send to slaughter.

" would you prefer if i were subtle about this — or would you rather i just come out with it? " he says. inhales, exhales, blows smoke in the opposite direction. expensive cigarettes and a nicotine buzz are the only consolations for conversations like this. there will be another pack waiting for him on his bed when he returns for the night, he knows, like a bone for a dog.

@jxwz says: sometimes subtlety is overrated.

he almost smiles. it's the answer he expected — porco has always been tenacious. he tries to conjure the ghosts of all the talks like this that have come before, passed down between a long line, all the nights before marley's chosen warriors inherit her titans. he himself had one not unlike this, many years ago, when ksaver reached the end of his tenure and sat across from the boy he made his surrogate son, the boy whose jaws would come down upon him the next day to applause, their new beast titan. he searches for that conversation now. what would ksaver say?

" they'd like me to ask whether you're ready, how you feel. " he does not give it any sort of sympathy, any kind of pity, the way he might with others. only a blunt kind of understanding, an openness that might sway porco to trust him with any doubts. it isn't to say that he feels none of it at all, only that it isn't the most productive approach. he imagines his conflict might be in a similar vein to his own of many years past, that kind of grief only someone close to a shifter might feel as their heir — the girl is the one who cut marcel's tenure short, after all.

[frustror]

ooc. zeke has always been a lamb raised for slaughter and maybe one day i’ll talk about it

[feral-ballad]

Alda Merini, tr. by Susan Stewart, from Love Lessons: Selected Poems of Alda Merini; “The cry of death”

[Text ID: “heart made of rot and solitude”]

[frustror]

the face that looks back at him now, even wrapped half beneath a swath of bandages, is unmistakably familiar. the first time zeke saw him, he'd said his brother looked nothing like their father, their shared stain, the withering, poisonous branch of the family tree. that same statement isn't necessarily true now, is it? beneath eren's gaze, too near to the ghost that haunts them both, he is suddenly relegated back to that place, shrinking in his seat at the table, turning back behind him at training to catch the disappointment, the disdain that rolled off his father in waves, washed over zeke's head and swallowed him beneath it, filling his eyes, his ears, his lungs. in eren's face, there is the man he has always hoped to avoid in his own.

he does not ever want to turn to his brother and find that same glint of disgust, sharp as a blade, cutting, in his eyes. the world has done nothing but teach zeke to be someone else, someone colder, to make a second self, but eren is the one who can split him open. he is the match in the dark, the missing piece where zeke has broken himself long ago.

he has tied the string of fate between them himself, when he vowed to come back for him. he will save him from their father's planted parasite, sever the ties that bind. the same way ksaver had done with him. zeke has always been fated to be the messiah, the one who will come to deliver eldia from her suffering. but since that day, salvation has seemed more singular: he will save eren, and then together, they will save the world. written in blood, it was always meant to be this way.

@praesidi says: i don’t want you to save me. i want to save myself.

it's as if eren can see through him, down to the marrow of his making. perhaps he's grown too transparent, his eagerness to trust turning him raw, exposing the tendons, flaying him. he takes it as their father speaking, the years of brainwashing slipping from his tongue. or maybe it's the stubborness of a mother, a woman zeke never knew. eren is headstrong, young. he thinks he does not need to be saved, thinks he can survive their shared poison alone. he does not know zeke is the antidote.

he hums thoughtfully, watching his expression. his own does not shift, is steeled against any disappointment at his words. " how about we save each other? " he smiles, tossing the baseball in his hands from one palm to another. brothers, he thinks. this is how they're supposed to be, isn't it? eren will come around soon enough. he will let zeke make him whole again. he chuckles, " i think that sounds much better, don't you? poetic, isn't it? "

[frustror]

the stars in the sky are blotted out tonight, swallowed up by the inky darkness, occluded by clouds that leave only the moon trickling through. what little light she gives is drowned out by the campfire, flickering harsh shadows across the faces it touches, the two that shed their soldier skins around it. or pretend to.

there is no need for childish ghost stories — being left alone with pieck has always been unsettling enough. perhaps part of it is her inhuman nature, how she never really manages to fully shake the cart, even in this form, how even as a woman, she never is — not really. like she's always tethered elsewhere, half here and half gone, something supernatural.

perhaps the other part of it is that he's never quite been able to convince her the way he has with the others. she isn't easily fooled. of all of them, she's the one squinting through the fogged-up glass, trying to rub it away with her sleeve to see through to the other side. she is the inevitable weak point in the armor, the achilles heel. if she presses too hard, the glass cracks. she burns a carefully-constructed strawman.

maybe they're alike in that way — both half something and half another, split down the middle, recognizing a kindred division. is she more titan than human? is he more fiction than real? being with her is an exercise in acting.

@bruchfest ( pieck ) says: it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.

" right as always, dear pieck, " he answers, puppeteering a small smile for her before it becomes an opportune moment to escape her eyes in a drink from the cup in his hand. the marleyan soldiers accompanying them have all settled into their tents for the night. though what she's referring to is much larger than just that, than just this one evening among a blur of many.

it is always them, isn't it? with the others infiltrating the scouts, they're the ones left behind. he knows why that is — she's too useful and he's deterrence, not to mention marley's favorite science experiment, favorite plaything. that and neither of them are young enough to slip into the scouts unnoticed. " why do you think that is? " he says, if only to gauge her reaction, to pry into her mind and see just how alike they can think.

he wonders if their superiors know how well it works in their favor to leave the two of them together, if they know that pieck is the closest piece they have to a queen, that she keeps him careful. she checks every move he makes, leaves no space entirely safe for the king. she is the strongest piece on the board, after all, and perhaps it's for that reason that he likes her company the most.

[frustror]

the woods are strangely quiet in the way they are just before a storm, when all the animals fall silent in anticipation. perhaps they can sense it, this evident animosity that permeates from the epicenter of the camp. what supplies the only sound is the crackling of the fire, the mirthful voices of the scouts in the trees, stretching languidly within their branches in their camraderie, quiet chatter buzzing like a hive of insects.

the only soldier who seems to never rest is levi, whose constant watchful eyes are always following. perhaps if zeke were someone else, someone who wasn't forged to turn his feelings off like gas in a lamp, switch on and off at his will, it might make him squirm. there is nothing but hatred in it, waiting for him to make one step in the direction of escape to justify putting his blade through his neck, but zeke is well-acquainted with this look. he sees it in the civilians of the countries he crushes in marley's name — sometimes from his own warriors, whom he bends into submission by words or by force, their eyes on him like betrayed, defiant children. they all roll like water from his back: there are no heartstrings to tug on, no feelings to forge into guilt.

this serves as something more like entertainment, in a kind of twisted way. in these woods, zeke almost enjoys getting beneath the captain's skin. it's far more interesting than the book in his lap. " shouldn't you send your scouts to do something more important? getting eaten by titans, perhaps? i'm sure you're capable of watching me all on your own [ ... ] " it's in that flippant way, where you might swear you can hear the smile in his voice before you look up and realize he isn't smiling at all, only looking back in a vacant, calculated kind of manner.

@naitfall says: this isn’t a stupid game. it’s their lives.

it seems to have the intended effect. the captain has little patience for playing this with him. " i didn't take you for such a philosopher, levi, " he answers, adjusting his glasses perched on his nose. " i only meant sitting around is a waste of their talents, wouldn’t you say so? "

[stardustprompts]

vengeful  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , violence , language , mental health

‘what a fucking cliche.’

‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’

‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’

‘you should have let it go.’

‘you can’t just do that to me!’

‘you’ve been gone for hours.’

‘you never said I had to play fair.’

‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘you look like a narc.’

‘it feels like dying.’

‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’

‘I did this. I did this to you.’

‘I am alive because of you.’

‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’

‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’

‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’

‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’

‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’

‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’

‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’

‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’

‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’

‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’

‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’

‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’

‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’

‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’

‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’

‘are you used to getting what you want?’

‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’

‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’

‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’

‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’

‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’

‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’

‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’

‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’

‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’

‘every end is a new beginning.’

‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’

‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’

‘I played god once and it did not end well.’

‘oh no, it will never work between us.’

‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’

‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’

‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’

‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’

‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’

‘normal is overrated.’

‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’

‘every power has its limits.’

‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’

‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’

‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’

‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’

‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’

‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’

‘never underestimate a woman.’

‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’

‘power belongs to those who take it.’

‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’

‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’

‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’

‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’

‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’

‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’

‘I thought you were done with hiding.’

‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’

‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’

‘let’s talk about revenge.’

‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’

‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’

‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’

‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’

'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’

‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’

‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’

‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’

‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’

‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’

‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’

‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’

‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’

‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’

‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’

‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’

‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’

‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’

‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’

‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’

‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’

‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’

‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’

‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’

[tragediambulante]

Cain and Abel, Giulio Cesare Procaccini, 1623