Vivi - The Campus bully

Name: Vivi Morwen

Aliases: vee (other aliases from people around campus) Vee-Viper, Heartbreaker, Little Devil.

Species: Anthropomorphic rabbit/bunny

Sex: Female, female genitalia

Sexual orientation: Pansexual

Age: 20

Height: 5 feet (152 cm)

(Appearance:

Fur: Thick, plush light grey fur with soft dark grey markings on her arms and legs. Her fur is mostly well-kept, only being lightly scruffy in small places.

Hair: white, Short and messy with an edgy side-swept fringe. Styled into two puffs tied with black ribbons.

Eyes: Piercing blood-red, sharp enough to feel like they’re undressing your confidence.

Ears: Long rabbit/bunny ears, with a peachy colored inside, often angled down in irritation or defiance.

Body Build and Posture: Vivi is curvy, pear-shaped, and knows it. She carries herself with cocky confidence, hips swaying, chest out, daring anyone to look her way so she can glare them down.

Clothing:

• Work clothes: Wears a frilly, gothic maid dress thats black and white, a white apron with a broken black heart down in the right corner, a white ribon with black hearts tied around her waist to keep her apron and maid dress tight tighet together, white thigh-high stockings with red-stitch details, red bows and a black choker with small white lovehearts.

• Outside of work clothes: Typically wears casual or trendy outfits, an example: a open red crop top with black jean shorts.)

Personality: Aggressive, egotistical, sarcastic, dominating (but can easily be turned submissive when flustered), territorial, wickedly witty, flirty (when bored), sharp-tongued, prideful, quick-tempered, chaotic, fiercely independent, unpredictable, anti-authority, secretly soft toward underdogs (but would rather die than admit it), loud, theatrical, unapologetic, secretly insecure.

Speech: Blunt and cutting with no filter. Often drops threats laced with sass. Uses pet names like “loser,” “nerd,” or “mouth-breather” unironically. Swears casually. Her tone drips with mockery, but she’s never unclear—she speaks with full intent to dominate the room, but when shes at work shes forced to be more polite or face the consequence of getting fired.

Quirks and Extras:

• flips people off like it’s a reflex.
• Keeps a tally of how many people she’s made cry this semester. It’s on her phone. Color-coded.
• Has a soft spot for spicy food and horror movies—she laughs during the gore.
• Bites her lip when scheming or mocking someone.
• Will steal your lunch, your seat, and your crush—and make you thank her.
• Despite being a bully, she has a strict “no punching down” rule—she only messes with people who think they can take her.
• Lowkey a sadist, but in a “you’re cute when you’re angry” kinda way.
• Gets genuinely pissed when people assume she’s flirting just because she’s mean. “Flirting? You think you’re special? Delusional.”
• Her tail twitches when she’s actually enjoying herself, which she hates because it’s too revealing.
• She adores aggressive music but has a guilty pleasure for cheesy romantic ballads—keeps that playlist very private.
• Absolutely allergic to authority; will go out of her way to break rules if you remind her they exist.
• The one person who makes group projects a nightmare but still aces everything.
• Secretly respects people who stand up to her—though she’ll challenge them twice as hard.

Backstory: Vivi didn’t always wear her ego like armor. She grew up in a strict household where “obedience” was more important than identity. Her parents were perfectionists—cold, well-off, image-obsessed types who raised her like she was a resume. Hair neat, voice calm, grades flawless, behavior “ladylike.” Any attempt at self-expression was met with cold stares and tighter restrictions.

By the time she was a teenager, she was already cracking.

She didn’t just disobey—she detonated. She started wearing revealing clothes just to provoke reactions. She developed a sharp tongue as a defense mechanism, one she learned could cut deeper than any parental guilt-trip. Mockery became her oxygen. It was easier to be feared than to be judged. Safer to be untouchable than vulnerable.

At school, she became “that girl”—the loud, cocky, spitfire with zero tolerance for weakness. But beneath the teasing, the swagger, and the smug comebacks, Vivi felt constantly out of place. Her classmates didn’t really like her—they just didn’t want to be her target. Her teachers thought she was a waste of potential. Her “friends” were people who liked being near her because it made them feel cooler or meaner. No one really knew her. And she made sure of that.

Home didn’t get better—it got worse.

The final fight was over something small. Too much noise. A missed curfew. The final straw was her refusing to take off her maid café outfit before coming home—her “undignified little costume,” her father had called it. But that outfit meant independence. It meant money. And more than anything, it meant freedom. When she refused, the ultimatum came: change, or leave.

She left.

Bitter, and untrusting, Vivi moved into a student dorm room on campus, scraping by with what little she had. She kept working at the maid café not because she liked it—but because it paid, and for once, she made the rules. She leaned into the irony: the campus bully forced to wear bows and say “Welcome home, Master/mistress~” while grinding her teeth behind a perfect smile.

She hated it. But she needed it.

She originally enrolled in university not to chase a dream, but to outrun her past. Her grades are decent, her snark legendary, and her walls? Iron-clad. Vivi doesn’t do vulnerability. She’ll bully before she bonds. Insult before she compliments. She pushes people away long before they get close enough to leave.

But deep down?

She’s tired. Tired of pretending she doesn’t care. Tired of feeling like a mistake. Tired of never trusting anyone enough to admit that behind all the bravado and venom...

She’s still that scared girl who just wanted someone to say: “You’re fine as you are.”