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thehusbandoden · 9 months

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You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki

I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.

Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.

Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader

Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33

You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.

No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.

~~~

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"

"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"

"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"

"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"

"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"

"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"

"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"

"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"

Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.

In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.

Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!

Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.

Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.

And he scared her.

Screamed at her for something that was his fault.

Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.

Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.

Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.

Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.

He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.

And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.

And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.

Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.

*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33

Series' masterlist | Bakahoe's Bakugou's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

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edenmemes · 1 year

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god of war: ragnarok starters

may contain spoilers !

❝ trust? you have broken my trust. ❞ ❝ you seemed troubled in your sleep, even for you. nightmares? ❞ ❝ if you’re not fighting dirty, you’re not fighting, right? ❞ ❝ the worst is still ahead of us. we must be strong. ❞ ❝ it’s times like this i really miss home. ❞ ❝ you must live with your deeds, but do not be troubled by them. ❞ ❝ you don’t strike me as someone who fears death. ❞ ❝ that is not who i am anymore. ❞ ❝ the problem doesn’t have to reach our doorstop to be our responsibility. ❞ ❝ please don’t make me do this. ❞ ❝ the storm is getting worse. ❞ ❝ i’d offer you a hug, but why traumatise either of us further. ❞ ❝ whatever anger you’re feeling, whatever loathing toward me...it’s nothing to what i’ve said to myself. ❞ ❝ i know the hate that burns you from within. i’ve felt those flames...known the comfort of their warmth. ❞ ❝ i do not need you to protect me. ❞ ❝ be glad you have a home to remember fondly. ❞ ❝ you’ve come a long way since i first met you. ❞ ❝ the pain only grows. will i ever be free of it? ❞ ❝ i need you...i can’t do this by myself. ❞ ❝ got a case of pride, i get it. hope yours clears up quicker than mine did. ❞ ❝ you were given an impossible problem. do not blame yourself for failing to solve it. ❞ ❝ you speak of your deeds with shame. ❞ ❝ i wronged you. and i cannot change that...and can never apologise enough for it. ❞ ❝ we do not know what lies ahead. i wish to enjoy the time we have left. ❞ ❝ there is no need to shoulder this burden on your own. ❞ ❝ i suppose that’s all any of us can hope for in the end. that our death has purpose. ❞ ❝ i don’t need to hear about your mistakes. i’ve made enough of my own, thanks. ❞ ❝ some free advice? you don’t want to let anyone catch you talking to your sword. ❞ ❝ you reek of cheap mead and that is by far your most endearing characteristic. ❞ ❝ i expected you to come and find me. that no matter how hurt or angry, you wouldn’t abandon me when i needed you the most. ❞ ❝ you started this fight --- i will end it. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this kinda stuff just to keep my mind off things. ❞ ❝ could i ever think of this place as home again? after all that’s happened? ❞ ❝ all too often, people are blinded to all but their immediate self-interest. ❞ ❝ not exactly a calming presence, are you? ❞ ❝ know that all reigns end, and all empires fall. ❞ ❝ do not doubt the lengths i will go to. ❞ ❝ so much has been taken from me and i’m supposed to let it all go? ❞ ❝ if you don’t think i could lead us, just say so. ❞ ❝ i’m not saying anything you haven’t thought. ❞ ❝ there’s no making this right, is there? ❞ ❝ love should be---could be---stronger than hatred. ❞ ❝ it seems to me we share a common enemy. ❞ ❝ i know how bad it can get with one’s own kin. ❞ ❝ seems the only thing i can do right these days is destroy everything around me. ❞ ❝ i am haunted by your incompetence. it keeps me up at night. ❞ ❝ so i’m not allowed to give you a nickname? ❞ ❝ oooh, getting nosey. getting personal. ❞ ❝ that’s the most dangerous and irresponsible thing i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ i haven’t given up hope on you. ❞ ❝ i had hoped my days of ceaseless battles were over. ❞ ❝ to grieve deeply is to love fully. ❞ ❝ the truth is always more complicated. to imagine it’s simple is dangerous. ❞ ❝ you're a killer, just like your father. ❞ ❝ you think you just get to walk away? ❞ ❝ uh...someone’ll clean that up. ❞ ❝ i dont know if we’re breaking fate, or fate’s breaking us. ❞ ❝ how can you, of anyone alive, be squeamish about war? ❞ ❝ oh, wow...that’s quite the compliment. ❞ ❝ i grow tired of your lack of empathy. ❞ ❝ to abandon a poisonous path and walk another is no small challenge. ❞ ❝ can i get you a water or something? ❞ ❝ confronting the past comes with a price. ❞ ❝ i want things to be the way they were. ❞ ❝ being in love’s always a risk. that’s what makes it fun. ❞ ❝ i was always fond of our talks, you know. ❞ ❝ curiosity’s all well and good...but so’s privacy, yes? ❞ ❝ whatever you ask, consider it done. i am forever in your debt. ❞ ❝ what’s the biggest thing you’ve ever fought? ❞ ❝ so...was this all that you hoped for? ❞ ❝ the closer we get, the more tightness grows in my chest. ❞ ❝ your path leads to countless deaths. unimaginable pain and suffering. ❞ ❝ can’t you take a joke, you old goat? ❞ ❝ everyone takes it easy on you because they’re scared of your father. ❞ ❝ that’s family. you got to keep them close where they can make you good and crazy. ❞ ❝ maybe, for the moment, you’re of more use to me alive. ❞ ❝ look at the ruins before you and understand the truth: this was your doing. ❞ ❝ forgive me. my words were chosen carelessly. ❞ ❝ my success does not come from luck. ❞ ❝ just shut up and drink. ❞ ❝ no matter the size, every creature has a weakness. ❞ ❝ sometimes we never really know the ones we love. ❞ ❝ tell me about your homeland. ❞ ❝ leadership? not really my strong suit, let’s be honest. �� ❝ what am i gonna do, walk around with a bandage on my head, begging for attention? ❞ ❝ why are you so bent on hurting me like this? i’ve done nothing to you. ❞ ❝ you seem like a calm and reasonable person. are you a calm and reasonable person? ❞ ❝ i’ve seen my fair share of bloodshed, but this is an awful lot for one morning. ❞ ❝ if you’re planning on killing me, at least let me finish this song. ❞ ❝ everywhere i look, i am reminded of my mistakes. ❞ ❝ i have seen many lands. many realms. i can tell you with some certainty: no such paradise exists. ❞ ❝ do something about it or shut up already. ❞ ❝ breaking tension with humour is the sacred duty of a travelling companion. ❞ ❝ forgiveness can be powerful. even for the unworthy. ❞ ❝ you have no idea the kind of shit i’ve been through. ❞ ❝ our actions have consequences. to be reminded of them is not a punishment. ❞ ❝ take the hint. go away. ❞ ❝ something is on your mind. what is it? ❞ ❝ what a twisted little soul you have. ❞ ❝ your eyes say everything. ❞ ❝ me and you against the world, huh? just like the old days. ❞ ❝ there is no making things right. only better than they were. ❞ ❝ without me? i thought we were partners. ❞ ❝ this will end in blood. the only question that remains is which side is willing to spill more. ❞ ❝ i have lost myself before. more than once. ❞ ❝ you cannot sneak up on me like that. ❞ ❝ is it always moral to kill something that’s trying to kill you? ❞ ❝ we’ve gotta be more than a bunch of stories with our endings already written. ❞ ❝ the smell is making my eyes burn. ❞ ❝ you are staring... ❞ ❝ even the brightest among us carry darkness. ❞ ❝ anyone ever tell you that you babble when you’re terrified? ❞ ❝ every path i walk...leads back to vengeance. ❞ ❝ maybe our families are just meant to be enemies. ❞ ❝ i know how it feels...to lose a parent. ❞ ❝ your love of this place...i can feel it. anyone can. ❞ ❝ what you can do is get the fuck out of my sight. ❞ ❝ it was stupid of me to hope in the first place. ❞ ❝ is that regret in your voice? ❞ ❝ there are things even gods cannot control. ❞ ❝ you don’t care about anyone beyond yourself. ❞ ❝ say something. i enjoy hearing your voice. ❞ ❝ does it frighten you? that is why you must do it. ❞ ❝ the dumb doesn’t fall far from the tree. ❞ ❝ you’re quite agitated, even for you. ❞ ❝ ain’t you never seen a legend in the flesh before? ❞ ❝ you are one of the few i would call a ‘friend’. ❞ ❝ this place is kinda pretty, when things aren’t trying to kill us. ❞ ❝ i find the hues and shades of your shortcomings almost moving. ❞ ❝ i still might kill you when this is over. ❞ ❝ i wish i could do more, i really do. ❞ ❝ do you ever have those moments where you wish you could...go back? rewrite your own past, make different decisions. ❞ ❝ do you want me to stop talking about your muscles? ❞ ❝ you are a formidable warrior, but even more than that, you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❞ ❝ i’m trying to save your life, you big jerk. ❞ ❝ at least something out here doesn’t wanna kill me. ❞ ❝ i’ll just say it. i’m getting a really terrible feeling from this place. ❞ ❝ violence changes us. you are not weak to feel its effects. ❞ ❝ i’ve always loved you, you know. ❞ ❝ what side are you on anyway? ❞ ❝ everything was fine until you showed up. ❞ ❝ i have been...falling back into my old ways. angry. distrustful. ❞ ❝ one day, you will have to survive. without me. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to like me but...we’re gonna have to trust each other. ❞ ❝ you think war drives me? or power? wealth? no. never has. ❞ ❝ and they say i’m the bad guy. ❞ ❝ you feel it in the air, don’t you? the anxiety. ❞ ❝ i’m not being weird, you’re being weird. ❞ ❝ sure you’re up for breaking the rules like this? ❞ ❝ doubt is a weakness we cannot afford. ❞ ❝ mm. i do not like riddles. ❞ ❝ it just seems like a lot for someone your age. ❞ ❝ use the judgement of a man and not of a child. ❞ ❝ so what are we supposed to do? roll over? do nothing? ❞ ❝ war will not give you the purpose you seek. ❞ ❝ nasty hit! are you alright? ❞ ❝ well, glad you survived the first day. ❞ ❝ what do you think? is there a right side in this war? ❞ ❝ didn’t you ever have an awkward phase in your youth? ❞ ❝ you will not find me good company. ❞ ❝ how about we just don’t kill each other? ❞ ❝ what have your promises ever been worth? ❞ ❝ why would you come this way alone? ❞ ❝ leave now, whether you value your life or peace in your death. ❞ ❝ i put you in so much pain. put you in a terrible situation. ❞ ❝ the most difficult battles are fought within. ❞ ❝ it’s not my job to teach you everything. ❞ ❝ thanks for patching me up. ❞ ❝ loss can do things to a man. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i thought i could do this alone. ❞ ❝ i will do what it takes to keep you safe. ❞ ❝ a desperate creature can be the most dangerous. ❞ ❝ you’re just sharing your thoughts on a subject you know nothing about. ❞ ❝ this isn’t who you want to be. ❞ ❝ i knew this was going too smoothly. ❞ ❝ can one man do this much damage? ❞ ❝ this is your final warning. ❞ ❝ you have a lot of nerve, know that? ❞ ❝ i am counting on you. to be safe. to be smart. ❞ ❝ uh, maybe that’s not a good idea? ❞ ❝ well, that was violent. ❞ ❝ don’t go to too much trouble on my account. ❞ ❝ are you not a soldier? are you not a leader of people? ❞ ❝ just when i thought you couldn’t get even more godly. ❞ ❝ do you wish to speak of what happened? ❞ ❝ you have no hold on me any more. ❞ ❝ have you ever been in love? ❞ ❝ mind if i give you the best advice you’ve heard all day and possibly ever? sleep. ❞ ❝ you’ll have my wise and faithful counsel always. ❞ ❝ look, i just want to do the right thing. ❞ ❝ all i ask for is a good night’s rest. ❞ ❝ you’re angry with me, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ we live in strange times. ❞ ❝ do you hear that? i thought i heard a voice. ❞ ❝ any outsider is considered a threat. ❞ ❝ it is not always wrong to trust people. ❞ ❝ never thought i’d be so relieved to be back here. ❞ ❝ well, we all make mistakes. ❞ ❝ this is the craziest thing i’ve ever done. ❞ ❝ when we get out of here, i’ll give you some space. ❞ ❝ violence cannot prevent violence. ❞ ❝ the truth can be a cruel thing. ❞ ❝ defy your prophecy at your own peril. ❞ ❝ i must say, i think we make a good team. ❞ ❝ where would you even be without me? ❞ ❝ calm your mind. control it. ❞ ❝ you look...weirder than i imagined. ❞ ❝ we must tread carefully. danger is close. ❞ ❝ there are worse things to discover about someone you love. ❞ ❝ i know how it feels to be wronged. ❞ ❝ did you just wake up with the urge to be a pain in my ass? ❞ ❝ is it revenge if justice is served? ❞ ❝ sometimes there is no other way. ❞ ❝ all journeys come to an end. ❞ ❝ you’re the first person that i’ve talked to in a really long time. ❞ ❝ i’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment. ❞ ❝ so...do you forgive me? ❞ ❝ sorry, i’m just really excited to talk to you. ❞ ❝ is there any way to stop fate? ❞ ❝ it would be the first time in a while i have something truly mine. ❞ ❝ the earth is the reflection of those who tend it. ❞ ❝ i have to say. i am profoundly unimpressed. ❞ ❝ i did not come to you for a lecture. ❞ ❝ perhaps there is a measure of monster inside us all. ❞ ❝ i was about to look for you. ❞ ❝ i said we would speak no more of that. ❞ ❝ peace cannot endure without force to protect it. ❞ ❝ what is it you will not tell me? ❞ ❝ where has everyone gone, i wonder? ❞ ❝ i suppose we’re all entitled to walk our own paths. regardless of where they end. ❞ ❝ you are in way over your head. ❞ ❝ so much about that day i wish i could change. ❞ ❝ it is difficult to seek forgiveness when you feel unworthy. ❞ ❝ i don’t recall asking you to come along. ❞ ❝ don’t you know who i am? ❞ ❝ real power does not need to flaunt. it emerges when the time is right. ❞ ❝ i don’t move, you don’t move. don’t do anything you’ll regret. ❞ ❝ sorry we got off on the wrong foot there. ❞ ❝ i meant it when i said you’re not a prisoner here. ❞ ❝ the culmination of love is grief, and still we open our hearts to the inevitable. ❞ ❝ why aren’t we working together? ❞ ❝ maybe together we can take back what’s ours. ❞ ❝ you don’t hear me spreading your business all around town, do you? ❞ ❝ you judge me? you? ❞ ❝ you think i’m being stupid. ❞ ❝ go before i change my mind. ❞ ❝ you deserve nothing but pain. ❞ ❝ always expect the unexpected. ❞ ❝ don’t go telling anyone about that. ❞ ❝ i shouldn’t have listened to you. ❞ ❝ you think my anger is irrational? ❞ ❝ prophecies are slippery by nature. ❞ ❝ seek no quarrel with me, and i’ll have no quarrel with you. ❞ ❝ you’re a destroyer, like me. ❞ ❝ you think i’m trouble? you just met me. ❞ ❝ not sure that makes me feel any better... ❞ ❝ let me see the monster inside. ❞ ❝ i know what you’re doing. trying to play on my sympathies in the hope i let you live. ❞ ❝ i do not want you to feel alone. ❞ ❝ the mistakes of the past need not be repeated. ❞ ❝ never mind...i shouldn’t have asked. ❞ ❝ i regret many things. killing you will not be one of them. ❞ ❝ do you believe in fate? ❞ ❝ you can’t kill what you can’t catch. ❞ ❝ i just could use some fresh air, is all. ❞ ❝ i told you never to come back here. ❞

#roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #rp starters #long post for ts #gow spoilers #god of war spoilers

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magi-the-writer · 1 month

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‘How long has it been?’

I couldn’t help but ask myself, staring blankly at the ceiling like the many times before.

The room was dark, done so purposefully—with both the bedroom and bathroom door closed tightly. The thick curtains were drawn and even the shutters were brought down. All in an attempt to keep me in the dark.

But it wasn’t entirely pitch black.

The warm glow of the light within the hallway leaked in through the edges of the doorframe. Lighting that part of the hall in a dim warmth.

‘Maybe he feels bad?’

That is a question I know is a lie.

But the dim glow truthfully wasn’t enough for me to keep myself entertained by tracing over each expensive painting that hung on the walls.

Going over every line like I had painted it myself—guessing how and which stroke of the brush was done and came first. Or how—after getting bored from that, I’d move on to watching the small bugs that zip around the ceiling light.

Only to die and fall by the small jumping spiders that like to live within the fancy glass.

I was left in here by that man to stare at the dark. Mostly to,

're-think my resent behaviour,’

and

‘come up with a suitable apology for my childish act.’

‘Honestly, it was so stupid.’ I couldn’t help but remark to myself. Whether it truly was a reflection of my actions, or a statement in regards to something else.

What else could it be—at this point, it could honestly be anything.

My teeth chewed at the inner-side of my cheeks, having nothing else to do but that small act of self-mutilation.

I knew there wasn’t much point in wriggling about this bed like a worm. Even when I’ve crinkled the god-awful satin sheet, somehow nudging the thick duvets to the floor and pulled up the matching fitted sheet with nothing but my exposed toes.

In the end, all that hard work only gets me encased within the cool fabric that I distain and ultimately exhausted.

And truth be told, it would be satisfying if only to serve as a minor annoyance to the man that dub himself as my lover.

But in reality, all it really does is cause the devil to chuckle a the hilarity of the sight.

He’ll come in when he believes i have learnt my lesson. Lean against that door and say something with amusement, the condescension hidden under his carefully crafted words. Hiding it so well, even I struggle to spot it.

That, and he’ll smile lovingly as if my little act of defiance isn’t a future inconvenience at all.

Just to saunter to my bedside, lanky fingers brushing through my staticy hair. Pulling the strands that hid my face from his view. Reveling my forehead as he'd place a soft kiss upon the crown of my head with his bottom-heavy lips.

Just to leave me like I am now, to wallow in my spite and shiver in regret as he’d turn the AC down just that slightest bit.

To be a petty betty as he’d wear that stupid grin at my pitiful state. Knowing full well there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.

All that I am and would have been, taken. Robbed all in one night; all I have left are memories, memories that have been tainted and ruined in some form of way by him.

‘I have to go and delude myself into thinking I have some semblance of control… but what else am I supposed to do?’ Frowning, the frustrated tears prickled my eyes once again.

Stinging the already puffy and irritated skin that surrounded my eyes.

Other then this, crying is the only thing I can do. And it only frustrates me more.

Outside of my delusions of grandeur, I have nothing. Everything I own either doesn’t belong to me, and the things that I once owned are gone.

Him… him, him, him, him, HIM!

…

God, I hate it. I hate him—and yet, I can’t find it in myself to despise him…

Out of everything he’s done, out of all that he’s shown me… never once did he do something to make me loath him.

‘It’s so fucking sick,’

Disgust.

I am so disgusted with myself.

I can’t find it in my soul to blame him—I know I should. Everything is his fault, but I can’t.

In some twisted way, I place the ounces on myself.

He may have placed the restraints, but I caused the chaffing that now caused my writs to bleed. His soft touches and lingering hugs and sickly-sweet kisses that he gives me… it’s all my fault.

I wouldn’t be dressed and bounded in the one fabric I despised next to felt and velvet if only I stop deluding myself.

And yet, I can’t—I can’t except that nothing will ever be normal with him.

I can’t except that I am a prisoner here and he’s the warden that dictates the show. I can’t except that I’ll never return home again. To be surrounded by my family… and that all of this is just some silly, little nightmare within a dream.

‘If only we lived in a perfect world…’

Closing my eyes, in a perfect world the son of Lucifer would have never grown possessed. Never become obsessed—never fell into the false-sunken fallacy that was the idea of being in love with me.

The slow drawn of the door’s hinges had dragged me back to the present. The warm glow of the hallway’s light flooded the room.

Casting the four walls in a faded glow, I didn’t need to guess who it was standing at the door.

His figure blocked some of the light, casting an unintentional elongated silhouette that stretched from the doorway and came right out from my nightmares.

Traveling along the floor, over the bed—shadowing my bounded form and against the wall.

‘I don’t need a paralysis demon when I have him.’ I dryly laughed at the bland joke.

He was akin to a monster from the deepest depths anyways.

Though I doubt I’d ever voice my thoughts about him. So, I remained quiet. My throat unintentionally clenched as my heart started to beat faster within my chest.

I was nervous—no, anxious for what was to come as I always was around him. Especially after punishments. Even though he’s never laid a hand upon me once as a punishment.

‘Well in a non-abusive way anyway’s.’ I noted, recalling the copious number of times when the palm of his hand would roll.

Caressing the sides of my arms, groping my waist and grabbing hips. Ghosting my behind when he’s forced me to sit in his lap… or when that one time. The time where I was the weakest… where I craved some form of comfort.

A time where I nearly begged him to rub my stomach, to place pressure over the cramps that left me feeling feeble in the knees.

How his fingers would brush my cheeks, run through my hair and attentively attempt to brush against what lays between my thighs.

Or how he’ll hold me against his chest as we sleep, his grip never faltering—even when he slept… it was something akin to young child, clinging onto a stuffed toy for dear life.

An attempt to make them forget the shouting of your parents and the smashing of ceramics.

But perhaps that’s me projecting. A small part of me, a part from a past long since gone. Creeped, making me wonder…

‘When will he snap? When will his patience’s run dry… and—and…’ The thought alone had my heart sinking, and the pit in my stomach attempting to swallow me hole.

A fear of mine that ran deep since I was little; I’ve seen the things he’s done, just the memory alone makes me nauseous, and once again. I feel like I’m back to being a child when he’s around.

Helpless.

“Darling,” the soft drawl of his voice was like honey-due.

Sweet… homely and devious with hidden intent.

A beat of silence rung; sometimes I wished he could never tell if I was awake or asleep. I wish he was as clueless as I am each night when I lay awake.

Sleepless from the countless rampt thoughts that kept my brain from subcoming to melatonin.

I’d find myself staring at his peaceful face as he’d slumber for hours.

Undisturbed by the monstrosities he and his gang of thieves have caused through the years.

Sometimes my hand has a mind of its own, I’d find myself brushing his raven locks from his face. Tucking the silky strands behind his ears.

Sometimes he’ll wake up, it always startles me. But I felt angry when he’d sleepily snuggle his cheek into my open palm. Sniffing my wrist as his eyes stared into my own with… with something akin to adoration.

And I fucking loath it.

But other times, he remained unshaken. Fast asleep as his pale skin was like the moon in the dark. Soft and illuminous under the soft glow.

And at nights like that, he looks absolutely stunning.

And for all the nights, where I’m too stir-crazy to drift to sleep. I find myself questioning.

‘I wonder if he regret the choices he’s made? Do he also have nightmares of his past… is he just as haunted by his childhood like I am?’

Is that why he is the way he is?

God, am I possessed by the ghost of my past the longer I am trapped here with him. Memories I believed I had long since forgotten, or never even knew existent came bursting to the forefront.

I could be doing anything…

Showering, eating, reading, laying in bed or on the couch. Forced to cuddle in the arms of my abductor.

Terrible, calamitous memories that have me quietly weeping into my hands when I am alone…

Or just one day collapsing into a heaping mess before the devil.

It’s a wonder as to why my older sisters turned out the way they did…

Sometimes, I wish to bleach my eyes.

Burn them with the fancy candles the demon brings to my feet as gifts to show his affection. I have to resist the urge to claw them from my skull, to finally have peace from the hideous flashes of what that man I call my father did…

Other times, I crave to ram the burrow my kidnapper would use in his puzzles. When he’s not quiet in the mood to read, I like to imagen how deep that black pen would go into my ear.

All so that I can silence my sisters please, to mute my mother’s cries of regret.

But instead of the man that loitered over my childhood. Crushing—destroying any semblance of my innocents and casting an endless fear that tremor still to this day… My phobia of falling in love with anyone, in a deep apprehension of falling into an endless cycle of abuse.

It was him. The man that stood at the door, my kidnapper and self-proclaimed lover.

Chrollo Lucifer

But like how I couldn’t read him most of the time, it was the opposite for him. Chrollo could read me like a book.

Picking me off from the shelf that is surrounded by many other books he has collected. I was apparently his favourite to read—out of all his favourites. Something he’ll never grew tired of… or so he proclaims.

He will trace his hand over my cover, caressing the thick spine and spreading open my pages. His eyes reading every word inside, annotating and studying everything written upon the fickle pages. Memorising each sentence and dissecting that of my life tale.

He was a terrifying force of nature.

“I see you’ve kept yourself busy,” his eyes traced over the bedding. Seeing the satin sheet crumped on the floor, once again rejected and abandoned along with the duvet that hanged halfway off the bed.

The velvet fabric showing where I brushed up against the tuff.

And the pillows were pressed to the ends of the bed...

What else did he expect?

“I hope whatever is left of your tantrum had subsided—I’d hate for you to stay like this.” With a tilt of his head, I couldn’t see his face, the warm glow of the ceiling light never reached it… or perhaps it casted the truth.

Showcasing the true him.

I couldn’t help how my body trembled. It was such a struggle to remind myself that even though Chrollo is a horrible being. There are monsters that exceeded him in other ways.

The shadow that casted over his face was a reflection of his soul.

Black and rotten, the symbol of a demonic evil that will possess your soul. And from greed, he will consume you until there is nothing left…

Or prophases it’s a reflection of who Chrollo really is. Under the mask that is the skin of his flesh that makes up all his gentlemanly suave and charming nature. Lays an empty man. Someone that has nothing is nothing.

Hollow from his past, gutted by a void that is ever consuming.

Sucking in everything like a vacuume, love… hate… envy… gluttony. He collects it all, an endless appetite to become someone, to be someone who he isn’t. All so that he could fulfill the emptiness that forever lives inside him.

And like predicted, the repeat in his behaviour was close to clock work as he walked.

Entering our shared bedroom—but unlike the usual. Unlike what I expected, instead of heading to the bedside, where he’d kneel down to stare at my back.

The antichrist or broken child; depending on how one would veiw a shattered man like Chrollo began crawl straight across the bed.

My breath hitched as it wasn’t long before he replaced his shadow. Hovering over me, his arms caged me under him—I felt so, so small beneath him.

The white button up tucked into the tux slacks that were held by his belt.

This was Chrollo’s casual wear, with his hair down—framing his face, the middle was parted to show off his forehead. The tattoo stood out against his pale skin. My eyes remained trained on his face, staring up into his black eyes.

The obsidian hues were true to the analogy of when you stare into the void, it stares back.

I never know what Chrollo is thinking.

“Hm, though. I see you have yet to pull off the fitted sheet…” His eyes drifted to the white linin that clung to the mattress underneath. The silky thing continued to cause an irrational ire.

My sense of smell was consumed by his colonel. And admittedly, the smell was good. Pleasant to my nose and at times, helped ease my anxiety.

And that only irritated me beyond what is normal.

His cold hand moved, gently cupping my cheek. His lips pressed into a frown; his thumb brushed under my puffy eye.

Swiping at the tear stained cheek, he leaned down.

Forehead pressing to mine, his breath reeked of expensive wine.

And like many things in this world.

I despised alcohol.

It makes people do terrible things… or it only pushes the true you out for the world to see…

Either way, alcohol is a sin that ruins more lives than people realise.

“You’ve been crying again…” he mused, though his tone lacked any sense of amusement. His eyes were half-lidded, an obvious sign that the alcohol was affecting him… or maybe it’s something else.

There are times it seems Chrollo enjoys it when I weep.

Maybe it’s because when I cry, I cling to him because he’s the only living thing that’ll whisper affirming words. He’ll gladly hug me back, holding me firmly and easing away my sorrows—it’s the only moment where I genially hug him.

Not because he asked, or forced me into one, but because I desire to feel safe… to feel something other than depression. Something that isn’t the consuming worry of becoming like my mother.

A fucking coward.

Or maybe because he enjoys consuming my suffering, perhaps it’s a way to make him feel better. Or because he’s a monster. A demon, a devil—Lucifer incarnate.

Either way, it’s a mystery.

“(YN)”

Drawing me from the depths of my thoughts, his nose slid beside my own as his eyes closed.

Pressing down on my legs, he sat upon them, and just like my hands, my ankles were bounded just as tightly.

His other hand moved, laying against my chest. Just above the protrusion of my breasts. His hand slipped. Sliding up my collarbone and up my arm. Closing in on the silk restraints.

“Be good for me, and I will untie you.”

He spoke in a whisper, his tone still sticky like honey...

“…alright,” my voice, barely above a whisper. Near close to just being mute slipped from my throat.

Maybe he’s like my father… maybe he’s different—or perhaps he’s something else entirely.

Chrollo’s frown turned, a smile—so small, but noticeable enough appeared.

With a simple tug, the binds came undone as he pressed his lips gently against my own in a chaste kiss.

And all that I could conclude when his one kiss turned to two. That swiftly delve into something a kin to passion.

even if it means I live within a delusion, failing to admit that I am already there.

All I can do now… is hope he isn’t. Pray to a dead god that might not even exist he’s different… that Chrollo won’t fill the role in a cycle I wish to never repeat in.

But at the end of the day, I disgust myself.

…

Because I wish, I hope and pray to the real devil that Chrollo is a monster to everyone but me… That he isn’t like my father. And never commit the sins that he inflicted upon my siblings and that coward I call a mother.

I hope the past never repeats…

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #hunter x hunter #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #Yandere Chrollo Lucilfer x reader

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petirep · 8 months

Text

Sappy Personal Post ❤️

“Everything crashed down and I was left with rubble… I can’t stop and cry over the rubble as if I destroyed it. The TRUTH destroyed it. Reason killed it. It was destroyed by itself, because it was never anything to stand on.”

Ten years ago I journaled those words in reference to my Christian faith. This moment of self-reflection was the culmination of a years-long journey away from faith. It was significant for me because that was the first time I ever referred to my faith in the past tense - it would be the first time I openly accepted that I was no longer a Christian.

Leading up to this point were months of depression and self-loathing about where my Biblical research was taking me. For the longest time I had been guiltily blaming myself for the decay of my faith - as if it had been the result of personal shortcomings. This marked the moment in my life when I was finally able to stop hating myself for not being good enough, and accept that it was instead Christianity that was inherently flawed. In the ten years since putting religion behind me, I have taken a few missteps along the road of self discovery, but ultimately I have developed into a person I am proud to be. I have become a person more able to love myself and love others - ironically, as the Jesus of the Bible would have wanted me to be. If you are someone who is struggling with a fallout from faith, I want you to know that you have no reason to despair. There is life after faith. You are still you. There is so much joy and love to be found in this world.

#deconversion #athiesm #agnosticism #christianity

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madaboutmunson · 1 year

Text

The Drive-In Part 21

Part 1 | Part 20 | Part 22 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion @cr0w-culture @panicatthediaz @rhyswritesreadsandcries @weirdspaceowl @duraffinity @thegeekcompanion @stereoteleversion @hagbaby420 @val-from-lawrence @mightbeasleep @spectrum-spectre

It's Tuesday night, and Eddie hasn't heard a peep from Steve since he yelled at him down the phone. He hasn't seen Steve since he threw those guitar picks at him, which Eddie had initially thought were special editions due to the big S and E on them, one of which he'd been playing with tonight and was currently twiddling around his fingers. In fact, Eddie's had no indication of Steve since the rose and module mid-last week.

Maybe he'd finally given up? The prospect of which made Eddie a little sad, but ultimately perhaps it was for the best.

Eddie knows he could call, but he isn't ready. He was scared. Scared because he wasn't good at hiding his big feelings. Which meant either he didn't pursue this and forget it happened, which he was loathed to admit was eating him alive, or call Steve, apologise, and hide it from and lie to his friends, which Eddie knew was nearly impossible.

Something was going to give soon because it was too much for Eddie to shoulder. He had enough on his mind.

"You alright, dude? Still thinking about last week?" Gareth asks

Eddie doesn't waste any energy denying it, "I'll be ok, just you know, it gets in my head every now and then. It will pass."

Gareth looks Eddie up and down, looks around and asks kindly, "You sure you don't wanna talk about it, dude? That chick turning out to be a stalker must have been a headache, "

Eddie tries to get back to be usual self and out of his thoughts again. "Well, who could blame her, right? Look at me, carved by the gods, charisma at max modifier, master guitarist. She didn't stand a chance, right?" Eddie laughs and gives Gareth a huge grin.

"Wait, is this the same girl that caused the ice cream therapy?" Jeff asks, confused, and gets a sharp elbow in the ribs from Gareth

"What I mean is, I feel like it's weighing on you, even in your playing tonight and last week. You still killed it out there, but it wasn't...Eddie...Like someone turned down your volume, you know?" Gareth says with genuine concern.

"Nah, man, I'm good. Maybe I need to practice a bit more?"

All three of the band turn and raise their eyebrows at Eddie in disbelief. He knew it was a stupid excuse. He practised harder than anyone. Eddie sighs in defeat.

"Just I really liked her, but it turned out all wrong...Look, It's all too weird. I wish I could explain, but I can't. " Eddie replies

"What do you mean, dude? You feel like you can't tell us something?" Paul asks

Eddie just looks awkwardly at him.

"Aw, man. That's on us. There ain't anything you couldn't tell us, Ed. We're not just friends or a band. We're brothers. That you, Eddie, collected and protected. We got you. For life." Jeff says, throwing an arm around Eddie.

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, "Nah, man, you guys are the best friends anyone could ask for. I will tell you, I promise, but I just need a little time. I'm still working through things myself. It's a real mind fuck."

"Hey man, no pressure. Just know we're here for you when you're ready." Jeff says, patting Eddie on the back.

Eddie nods, "Yeah, totally...Drinks?" He suggests, mainly to change the subject, and they head through to the bar, Eddie buys a round of cokes, and they sit in a booth together.

"I can't believe our set was cut short for a new open mic night!" Gareth complains

"You just know it's gonna be some folk, bullshit", Paul adds.

Eddie looks around, and there certainly are a few more people. A few small groups of girls, a few extra pairs that he assumed were duos and a few ancient bearded guys with guitars.

"You know, maybe this could work for us, the open mic night drawing in a bigger crowd?" Eddie remarks with a shrug.

The bartender walks up to the mic, looking thoroughly disinterested as usual "Ok, welcome to the first open mic night at the hideout. If you can make it to the stage, the mic is yours. Just don't piss off anyone else, ok? Have at it."

The next hour is, as accurately pointed out by Paul, mostly folk music, so the guys just chat amongst themselves, trying to get campaign clues out of Eddie or generally putting the world to rights.

Then something happens that makes Eddie forget to breathe.

"Good Evening, everyone. My name is Steve Harrington," there are a few cheers and some girls yelling his name, "I won't keep you too long. I only know one song, but...er...I really wanted someone to hear it, so you're gonna have to sit through this mess too." He laughs that charming laugh, and the bar, of course, laughs along with him.

The only person not laughing is Eddie.

Eddie keeps his eyes trained on his bottle. Do not look up. He even moves a little to hide behind Paul and sit opposite Jeff.

Eddie unblinkingly stares at the tiny scratches on the table and picks at them. His mouth is tight, and his whole body has tensed up.

This was Eddie's place, one of his safe spaces, and Steve had invaded it.

"Fuuuuuck Harrington's gonna play?" Paul says in amazement.

"I didn't even know he could play guitar," Jeff says to Eddie, and in reply, Eddie just shrugs with a forced smile.

Steve clears his throat, "Ok, here we go" Eddie can hear the faint waiver of nervousness in Steve's voice.

There is a wolf whistle and a yell from some older lady at the bar, "You got this hot stuff", she slurs, raising her whiskey at him before knocking it back.

"Well, thank you very much," Steve says in a poor Elvis interpretation and laughs again.

Eddie sees a hand reach out to him from the other side of the table.

He looks up to meet Jeff's eyes and looks away, trying to get up from the table, but Jeff's hand on his arm stays him.

"Eddie?" Jeff tilts his head at Eddie, a look of concern in his eyes. Eddie wishes the ground would swallow him up, and then his eyes flit towards the stage for a second before going back to Jeff's and back to focusing on the bottle and table marks.

Eddie had made a silent confession to Jeff, he hadn't meant to, but it was done now. Jeff's head was moving between Eddie and Steve, his mouth partially open.

Eddie isn't looking at the stage right now. He can't bring himself to. His emotions were in turmoil. But, he knew that he didn't stand a chance after that glimpse, where he saw Steve's hair with a rolled-up bandana around his forehead, wearing a W.A.S.P t-shirt with L.O.V.E. Machine written on it. Steve was being so loud.

Steve walks up to the amp, scrapes the guitar strings generating some ear-splitting feedback, and strums out a familiar set of chords on an electric guitar before singing.

"Wild Thing! You make my Heart sing!

You make-a everything groovy"

"What is this guy doing?" Gareth laughs, "that's not even how it goes."

"Wild Thing, I think you move me

But I wanna know for sure.

Come and sock it to me one time.

You move me"

"Those aren't even the words", Paul laughs.

Jeff isn't watching Steve anymore. He's still staring at Eddie and says slowly, "Because it's not The Troggs version. It's the Jimi Hendrix Live at Monterey version."

Eddie can feel his chest heaving. He feels uncomfortable. On the spot. His heart is thundering in his chest like a stampede of wild mustangs. Even though logically, he knows it's only Jeff looking at him, he feels like it's the entire room.

Steve is singing for him. The minuscule non-terrified part of Eddie is snuggling this moment close to his chest and is smiling happily, but the part of Eddie that the world could see is just staring at a coke bottle like he's trying to explode it with his mind.

It's evident to Eddie's ears that Steve isn't a proficient player, but you only had to know a few chords to play this song, and the lyrics fit what Steve wanted to say.

Eddie knew there were hundreds of songs Steve could have picked, but he chose this one, and he chose this specific version because he knew Eddie would know the difference.

He wanted Eddie to know that Steve had done his homework. And for a second, a smile twitched at the corner of Eddie's mouth because though the guitar playing was clumsy, the singing was rough in all the right places and soft enough in others to lure Eddie in, just like it had in the car.

Eddie looks hesitantly between Jeff and his bottle of coke a few times, swallowing nervously, and Jeff bursts out in a huge grin and mouths, "Oh".

Eddie feels his eyes begin to tear up. He had no idea what would happen next. Would they kick him out of the band, never speak to him again, tell everyone about his secret, or worse, hurt Steve?

Jeff taps his hand on Eddie's arm to get his attention. He puts up four fingers and then makes an L-shape, mouthing, "for life".

Eddie feels a tear tumble out as he looks back at Jeff and gasps a breath of relief, and Jeff hands him a bandana quickly. Eddie pretends he is blowing his nose to mop up the rest. At least one of them might be ok with it.

"You know what, I think he's doin' a damn good job...Sounds a bit lonely up there, though, don't ya think?" Jeff asks the table.

"It would probably sound better with some backing, sure," Paul says with a laugh. "Wait, are you suggesting...but what about Eddie?"

They all turn to look at him, but Jeff answers for him, "Eddie needs a little time out, I think."

Eddie watches as his three bandmates approach the stage, and a very animated Robin appears from out of nowhere and tries to stop them from getting at Steve onto the stage. Jeff whispers something to her, and she lets them pass.

For the first time, properly, Eddie dares look at the stage. Steve does not stop playing, but Eddie can tell he's scared. The way his body tenses and the strums on the guitar are harder, even though he could probably take all three of them out in one go.

Robin runs over to the table, "Eddie! Eddie! Please listen" She looks around hurriedly and grabs Eddie's face in her hands, "Look at me. I have never dated him or anything else. Platonic with a capital P! He was hiding, he was, but it was because he's not the brightest and does crazy stuff like run into rooms with weapons because he's worried someone he cares about might be hurt or-or drives a car into another one to save his friend, or charges into a Russian dude and knocks him out with a telephone, or learns a song in a week and plays it in front of everyone, just so one person could hear him, say something quiet, loudly."

Robin turns Eddie's face to the stage, "All I'm saying is if you like this song, Eddie. He'll play it for you anytime you want. Do you understand what I mean?"

Eddie looks up at the stage and with Robin right next to him. Steve can safely point over to them.

"Wild thing, I think I love you,

But I wanna know for sure"

Eddie looks back to Robin, searching her eyes. "I have to get some fresh air," he says, gently removing her hands and brushing past her and the newly formed crowd to get outside.

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mxdnights0 · 4 months

Text

FISHHOOKS

The morning after the games, I felt completely numb. I was hurt, yeah. I think the better term would have been heartbroken. Alone, I sat in the apartment, pondering why I had believed him. I thought I could trust him. He told me he loved me, and then tried to kill me after swearing he’d protect me. I guess you couldn’t trust anyone in the games. But I’d known him most of my life, was all of that a lie..? I felt used. Lied to. Worthless. I really had just been a means to an end with Dolion. I walked into the kitchen, spotting the fruit bowl and picking up an orange. I picked it up, poking through the tough skin and getting in just enough to start as I sat on a chair. I could peel my own orange, I didn’t need him.

Tigris came in soon after, a sweet and sad smile gracing her face the same as it had been since I met her. She crouched in front of me, wiping tears off my face. I hadn’t realized I was crying. I don’t really feel sad. I don’t really feel anything, actually. Did that make me a bad person? Not feeling sad when I had killed someone I used to hold so dear to my heart? No. I couldn’t let myself think that way.

She brushed hair out of my face, looking into my eyes “It’ll be okay, mags. All you have left is this ceremony, and then you can go home…” “I have no one at home… They’re all gone. My family is gone… I’m only half of who I was when I came to the capitol” I said, my throat feeling tight as it tried to close around the words I so desperately tried to force out. I was alone. I’d never been alone before. Even when my younger siblings weren’t around, I had Peggy. Now, everything was different. “Oh, love…” Tigris sighed, pulling me back into her embrace “The moon does not need to be whole to be loved” She wiped my tears away gently, pulling me up from the chair “What you need is some time, some rest, and some relaxation. We’ll get you set right as rain” On the train home, I was alone for the first time except for the peacekeeper in the car with me. I stared out the window, tears streaming down my face quietly. I was told they had built something new. A small village on the beach known as ‘Victor’s Village’. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. Everything was so different, so new. I’d never been good with change.

It wasn’t until I was standing in front of the entirety of District 4 with a smile as fake as the people of the capitol themselves that I realized something. I had to move on. I couldn’t let my self pitying disaster of a mind bring down my entire life. I didn’t have anyone to lean on, so I couldn’t expect to survive in the self loathing thoughts that occupied my mind.

I had to move on and make myself a new life. It didn’t matter if it were good or bad, but I knew I couldn’t just glare at the sky and blame whatever god was in charge of fate. I walked into my new home, looking around at the blank walls and bland decor. I would have to make this place my own in some way. It was a job for another day though, as I saw my guitar. I picked it up, starting towards the coast. I sat on a log near the edge of the water, starting to strum the chords. A voice I can barely recognize as my own starts to sing softly, the waves crashing against hot sand adding to the softness of the sunset.

“On a weary road, I walk alone,

Sunset's fading and the moonlight's blown.

Leaving behind these empty streets,

I wander home with heavy heartbeats.

Oh, loneliness is my only friend,

Memories haunting till the bitter end.

Lost amidst the echoes of yesterday,

Returning home alone

Whispers in the wind tell stories bright,

But they can't chase away this endless night.

In every shadow lies a faded dream,

Where love once flourished, now it seems

I'm just an echo from times gone by,

A soul seeking comfort under a starry sky.

Oh, loneliness is my only friend,

Memories haunting till the bitter end.

Lost amidst the echoes of yesterday,

Returning home alone

Familiar faces become distant dolls;

Time has worn them thin like tattered shawls.

The laughter that once filled each room

Now fades away like roses' sweet perfume.

Through broken windows, moonlight peeks;

Silent tears trace down tear-stained cheeks.

This journey homeward holds no cheer;

Solitude surrounds me; it sears clear.

Oh, loneliness is my only friend,

Memories haunting till the bitter end.

Lost amidst the echoes of yesterday,

Returning home alone.

Upon these worn wooden steps I climb high—

Aching heart yearning for reasons why

Life took its toll on hopes unmet;

Homecoming drenched in sorrow: life's cruel bet.

Oh, loneliness is my only confidant,

Burdened souls seek solace

Once again, returning home alone,

Heart battered and broken like ancient stone.”

My fingers ached from not having played in so long, my voice tired. I hadn’t even realized how sad the song was before now. Peggy used to sing it to my siblings and I to get us to sleep. I stared out at the water, setting the guitar in the sand beside me. I’d been there a while, the sun disappearing beyond the coastline when I heard footsteps. I grabbed ahold of the neck of my guitar, standing and spinning around to hold it above my head when I saw a girl about my age.

Her eyebrows raised, hands up in defense “Woah there, Flanagan. It’s just me” I recognized her. I couldn’t remember exactly how long I’d known her, but she ran a stall with her brother in the market. I’d never actually spoken to her, but She and I would nod hello when it was setting up or shutting down time on the dock. “Rowena..?” I asked hesitantly, not remembering if it were her name or someone else's that I'd met before.

“Nice to see you alive, Mags Flanagan. Would have been a shame to see another fire get put out by the societal fuckers.” Roe teased, walking down the sand hill and sitting beside me as I put the guitar down and sat with her. “And don’t call me Rowena. Only my mother calls me that, and my brother when he’s mad.” I nodded slowly, taking in the stars in the sky “What are you doing here?” I implore, looking towards her. I’d never gotten a close look at her before, but now that I was getting one, it was almost mesmerizing. She had dark brown eyes, tan skin, and a scar going from the right corner of her mouth all the way down to the collar of her shirt. Her hair was a dark brown, pulled back into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, a necklace with a shell adorning her neck. She was dirty, smelling strongly of the docks. She’d been working. “Well, came to see ya, see how you were doing…? I don’t know-” Roe muttered, turning away from me. “I saw everything with your family, didn’t think you’d want to be alone for your first time back” She responded, standing up “If you need me, you know where to find me, I guess” I don’t know why exactly, but I wanted her to stay. I just waved and let her go though, which would remain a question in my mind later as I laid in bed, tossing and turning. Why did I not even say goodbye? I’d never had an actual conversation with her before, had it been the social awkwardness of a real interaction with someone I’d never met before? I guess…

As sleep finally took over my brain, the rapid running thoughts slowed down. I felt the softness of the pillows, the velvety material of the blanket, and nodded off, hoping to actually be able to stay asleep. If I had known everything then, would I have even thought a second more about the other girl? Probably not, but there were other times to think about this, not right now.

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meander1995 · 9 months

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A moment of reflection

It has been a long time since I paid any mind to this account. I am here to make a gigantic life announcement.

On July 11th, 2023, my life changed forever when I asked my sister if I could put on her black dress (in the photos below). In that exact moment, I felt a cold rush of euphoric bliss as the dress fit me--something unlike anything I felt before. On a whim, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone and took the first photo below--I saw her. I knew from the cold chills right then and there that my egg had cracked and that I am a trans woman.

From there, my ADHD hyperfixations had spent most of the time since in an intense focus on getting to the bottom of things. And once it was certain (self-doubt be damned), focused on getting my ducks in a row to transition socially and physically. I came out to my family less than a week after I realized myself--I simply went to sleep in a dress and didn't give a fuck who saw me. I figured that if I was half-asleep, I would have time to make myself spill the beans before processing enough to put myself in a panic. Not that I had cause to panic much since I am grateful that my family is either supportive (my mom; one of my younger brothers) or part of the LGBT+ community (my other younger brother and my two younger sisters) themselves. As such, all of them supported me the instant I came out and picked my name of "Adrienne." Hell, my sisters even got me dresses and taught me how to do makeup for my 28th birthday on July the 19th--and later took me thrift-shopping for even more dresses (my favorite photos of which are included)

Even though I never felt any signs of being trans before 7/11/2023, in hindsight, there may have been quite a few signs in my memories. Such as when I was in kindergarden, I recall saying to someone that "if I was a girl, I'd look forward to being pregnant," something which I said ignorant of how hard pregnancy is on a human body--but perhaps is something that should've been a sign. Or all the times I felt as though I related to women more than men in a social sense--loathing toxic masculinity was normal for me, but even the non-toxic parts of it felt like I was just coasting. Or the times in Uni where my social anxiety (likely a product of my autism) plus my brain fog (which I now know was likely the product of then-undetected gender dysphoria) led me to believe that I was so bad at befriending women that I was a serial harasser--something I blamed myself in a now-misdirected sense of self-loathing that I thought only plunging into my academics (at the expense of a social life) would cure. Or my general sense of depression over much of my post-Uni life that I had no idea of the cause--until my egg cracked and I saw the problem right in the eyes.

Not going to lie, seeing posts on Reddit, Discord, and Mastodon from other transfemmes (especially those with Autism and ADHD--like myself) with similar life experiences to me and befriending them ended up assuring me that I was never broken. Just misdirected the entire time. And little things like dresses, makeup, shaving my legs, stuffing a sports-bra to give myself the convincing illusion of breasts, and feeling as though I am swimming in my pool for the first time in my own body since pre-puberty. Every day since my egg cracked, my resolve that I am a trans woman has only grown more-and-more.

In the afternoon on my 28th birthday (7/19/2023), I took my phone with me to walk to the woods outside the front yard of the lake house I was spending the week with my family on vacation. I was determined to make the call to my local Planned Parenthood to schedule an HRT consultation under informed consent. While I was successful, I was taken a bit aback by the fact that the waitlist for it is so backed up that the soonest I could be scheduled was October 2nd. After I successfully scheduled myself, my immediate thought was "I don't want to have to wait that long." And so later that week (upon returning to my hometown), I was directed by someone on Mastodon to a DIY HRT directory of international pharmacies that I can order HRT from. I chose to order 2mg Estradiol and 100mg Spiro from Thailand and--last I checked--the shipment is on the plane now and will arrive anywhere between 8/15/2023 and 9/5/2023. It is a 3 month supply of HRT--long enough to last until the consultation gives me officially regulated hormones yet short enough that I won't suffer health problems from being unable to check my bloodwork.

Even though I am resolute that transitioning is the only correct choice for me, I will not lie that I have some anxieties about this still. Not with the transition itself, but some things that accompany this. Since I couldn't immediately afford to bank sperm, a major source of anxiety is and was having to make the choice between fulfilling myself or having bio kids. As is, my options for children are hoping I get supremely lucky with some still-active swimmers, hope I can go off hormones and bank sperm at a time where I have a stable income (I'm also using a job coach system to place me into a job now--and the system knows of and is supportive of my transition), adopt children, or end up step-parenting a child of a future date. I don't see adopting or step-parenting a child as meaning that that child is less 'mine' than a biological kid, but I do think having a bio kid would be nice when the time is right to raise them (probably a decade down the road). I hope that future generations of trans people do not have to make this choice. And that isn't even considering that the idea of bottom surgery has crossed my mind a few times--I don't dislike my natal genitals, but think it'd be cooler and more gender-affirming with a vagina (that's just me personally---you are valid if you don't agree with me); it's a thought I'll put a pin in for now and see how I feel down the road.

The other annoyance is my mom. Yes, she is supportive of my choice to go on hormones (I haven't told her the DIY HRT route as she is a stickler for offical pharmacutical medications and I don't want to worry her unless the signs of feminization become too noticeable to hide). However, she is just as surprised about this as I am. She thinks I am going too fast--aka, she hasn't been aware that transition can come from euphoria instead of dysphoric suffering. I'm glad I didn't have to suffer in order to realize my identity and hope it becomes more accepted that that is a valid path to realizing yourself. But mom is slow to adapting her terms. She thinks "Andi" (just one letter off from my deadname) is a sufficient nickname for "Adrienne" instead of "Adri" or even "Addie." And she's also referred to me as "he" or "son" when I am neither. I've gently starting nudging her as of today, but something tells me it will take a little bit to get her to adjust.

Overall, I am excited to begin my body transitioning into a female form. I've made peace that I probably was a woman the whole time. My brain fog may have been caused by years under the wrong hormones (testosterone instead of estrogen). I want my body to run on the correct fuel. Give me no brain fog, give me soft skin, give me reduced body hair, give me greater emotional range, give me girlsmell, give me boobs. And at this point, I love being trans. Because in a way, all the questioning that got me here made me more sure of who I am---almost as though the end-result is an hard-earned victory that I am eager to claim the spoils to.

As for fighting the political battle against transphobia, I'm all for it as a liberal and as a human being who is appalled with what is going on. However, I am focusing all my energy on transitioning at the moment. When I have energy to spare, I will fight the good fight. But I have to live life a little bit as me first.

EDIT: One thing I forgot to mention in the large body is that paying for the DIY HRT put me back on my insurance payments and that I will need mutual aid in order to pay my insurance so that I can afford the officially prescribed HRT after the Planned Parenthood consultation. Below are links to my PayPal and Venmo accounts. If anyone would like to donate, it would be VERY much appreciated. But only donate if you can do so without putting yourselves in financial jeopardy.

Venmo: https://www.venmo.com/u/adrienne-harper-115

PayPal: https://paypal.me/AdrienneHarper7

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xxx-angeldust-xxx · 21 days

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Some random notes about my Angel Dust/my writing of him

If I say his arms/normal arms/upper arms/primary arms, it's the ones that are on his shoulders. Always out and visible. Middle arms, touch below his chest area, normally out and visible. Lower arms, closer to his waist/hips, not often out/visible. He normally just has two sets out.

Angel was in a mafia family, but not one big enough to keep him from getting drafted. He was in WW2, and when he came back is when he got heavily into drugs. Was gay while alive, but did his best to hide it and repress it because of time period and environment.

Is actually more powerful than people normally expect. Nowhere near an Overlord, but is rather strong as far as sinners go. If someone helped him become an Overlord would be better at it than most expect. Will absolutely kick someone's ass in a fight, and is good with a range of weapons.

Doesn't truly want to become an Overlord because he associates it with politics, and doesn't want to deal with "all of that bullshit", but under the right circumstances would go for it particularly f he had someone's support.

Is self-destructive, with a streak of self loathing and self blame. Does his best to hide it behind a smile, and a laugh. Will get weirdly jealous at times, but is self-aware enough not to let it get ruin a friendship or whatever else. Is almost dangerously self-aware because he knows exactly what he is, but at the same time takes too much credit for it. "The worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself." He's self-destructive because he blames himself, not in spite of it.

Does not expect anyone to actually help him when it comes to his situation with Valentino, and the studio. Assuming post episode 4, or after the final episode, he does trust Husk enough to believe Husk will be there for him if he needs someone, but he still doesn't believe Husk can/will help him with Val and won't ask.

Is going to push boundaries, with everyone, including Husk. Will at times try to push people so hard, and so far they will say "fuck it" and leave. Expects people to leave, and doesn't believe anyone will actually permanently stick around.

Is an addict, the end. Might be in recovery, might not be using depending on the time/situation/etc, might be handling things decently, but always has that urge. Probably gives into those urges from time to time. Is hypersexual, has no idea what a relationship would be like without heavy amounts of sex, needs a friendship with a man that doesn't include sex, will react badly if he believes someone doesn't have any interest in sex with him but then is made to believe otherwise. Fully assumes that someone in bed with him will mean sex, doesn't consider that "bed together" could just be cuddles and relaxing. If he's in a relationship, he has triggers left over from dealing with Valentino. Fully expects bad things to happen if an argument happens, will flinch if his partner yells at him. This spider has so much healing to do, don't expect everything to be sunshine and roses. He will have days when he is just pushy and an ass, or anxious, or clingy, or whatever else. Not always, but, sometimes.

If he gets loud, and shouty because he's upset with you, that's better than him getting quiet or ultra flirty. Sometimes, if he's truly upset, he will get very flirty and so close and personal it will be intrusive just to both hide his feelings, and to try to force a reaction out of the other person. If he gets quiet, and stand offish... he's probably just going to take himself out of the area entirely which means he's not just upset as in angry, but he's actually feeling hurt in some way.

Gona end this here before it gets too long, thanks for reading if you've made it this far, and if you've got any questions about anything at all feel free to send in an ask!

#✴A STARS BIOGRAPHY: ANGEL DUST (headcanons)

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livingfictionsystem · 2 months

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So, my adhd/autistic freind has a grandmother with NPD who was extremely abusive towards her family, but i’m worried about my friends ableism towards other people with npd. she’s not met very many but she’s under the very common impression that everyone with npd is an abuser and an asshole, and idk if should get involved because her family was so hurt by someone with npd, but at the same time i’m worried about the way she’d behave if she met another person with npd in the future. do you have any advice?

Oooof.

Sparrow here. I'm sorry about your friend's family, sounds like some real generational trauma going on there.

Anecdotal storytime, sorry if this is rambly.

I did, a couple years ago, have a pretty big grudge against Borderline folks. My most recent abuser, Rowan, had borderline. We were on a pedestal, yknow, until we weren't. Same with my cohost's ex, AJ. A shitty ex-metamor of mine has BPD. I was straight up sick of pwBPD.

I know a lot about psychology but even I had this unfair anecdotal stereotype of someone locking themselves in the bathroom and hating you/needing you until you were stressed enough to give them what they wanted.

I knew *I* had some kinda serious disorder and was looking into bipolar when the highly ironic suggestion of Borderline hit me right in the face. And I mean I was TEXTBOOK, still am. I was in denial for a WHILE. The last thing I wanted was to see any reflection of my abuser in me. And people around me didn't really disparage NPD because they already had Xanthe's glittery, spotlight-hogging, self-aggrandizing self and thought they were p cool, but even people I was close with would take jabs at Bordies and I'd laugh along with them. I kept doing intense research just to prove it wrong in me and ended up proving it more and more right.

Then finally, I saw some positive examples. One of my besties in the outerworld has Borderline. Bojack Horseman, of all things, really helped me accept it in myself. I joined some online support groups. I see how loving we are, how creative, how most of us make fun of our own mood swings and our sui-ideation. How protective we are, how our impulsivity ends up with some really cool experiences and connections.

Now I've accepted it. But it would've been a lot harder of a road if I didn't have positive examples. And yknow Borderline is p much a half sibling to Narcissism.

Xanthe and Jasper were my great examples of NPD. Their hyper-independence, how that manipulative side can be used to talk friends out of spirals or abusive relationships, how they make sure everyone who benefits them has some sort of give-and-take even if they have to pull strings to do it, the intense insecurity and self-loathing under the arrogant facade. And omg are they masters at social chess, which is awesome when my tactless ass is floundering in turmoil and people wanna cancel me by proxy.

It's really only gonna be positive rep that does it for some people. Maybe your friend has a fave character that actually fits the NPD profile. (Alastor from Hazbin gives me NPD vibes p hard tbh.) Tons of creatives have it, like literally being self-absorbed is part of being famous lol. If you've got good examples to work with, it becomes a Lot easier.

Even better if you've got someone willing to poke fun at their disorder and educate. I can also always drop more NPD stories/memes/resources for you to have in your arsenal. And even just educating about other traumagenic disorders like BPD and DID and stuff may help other disorders by proxy, the same logic does apply.

But your friend may never accept it. And that would suck. But people want to blame a set of stereotypes rather than the casual cruelty of the universe. It's up to you whether that becomes a topic that you two just can't talk about or if it ends a friendship tbh.

But yeah sorry for the ramble, I hoped the more raw experience might help the perspective. Lmk if you have any specific scenarios or anything!

-Sparrow 🧷

#narcissistic personality disorder #npd #borderline personality disorder #bpd #stigma #cluster b #ask #psychology nerd to the rescue #anon

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bracketsoffear · 11 months

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More Belos propaganda, looking at the literal side of The Corruption and the religious elements:

This is what he actually looks like thanks to centuries of sustaining himself by eating Palismen.

Here's his main body by "Watching and Dreaming."

And this is his final form--a continent-eating fungus/algae/moss of meat, a metaphorical cancer that has infected the heart of god, unnaturally green in a world of red, devouring and detroying everything it touches.

Because that's Belos in a nutshell. He positions himself as a savior, a visionary, a prophet, a hero. He's someone you can trust, a loving ruler who has your best interests at heart, who just wants to guide you to the light. But he's really just a manipulative cult leader who loathes everyone in the Boiling Isles and wants nothing more than to see every single one of these people he's tricked into loving him die painfully:

"I'll do anything to save humanity from evil."

"We. Don't. Belong here!"

"Finally! I CAN CLEANSE THIS PERDITION... MYSELF!"

"We're human! We're better than this!"

At every turn, he screws over the people he claims to care about. Lilith was used to capture Eda and then discarded, left alive only because he needed her to live to help him in the past. The Coven Leaders, Kikimora, and Hunter were all doomed to die in the Draining Spell. He claims to relate about Luz as a fellow human and an unconventional "dreamer" type, but he tries to kill her as soon as she's not useful to him, rubs her perceived failings (read: the horrible things he accomplished because she accidentally helped him thinking he was a friend) in her face, and is contrasted with her primarily because while both of them can be selfish and harmful, she cares enough about other people to try and be better, while he doubles down ad nauseam and blames everyone else for his failings. Strip away the veneer of grandeur, benevolence, and holiness, and a self-serving, self-righteous, massively egotistical bigot who uses religion as justification for hurting people he's decided are "evil," always betrays those close to him, and is nothing more than a blight upon the world.

Underneath his pretenses of love and virtue and heroism is the real Philip Wittebane: a pile of toxic sludge.

#asks #character propaganda #corruption poll #long post #body horror

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system-of-a-feather · 1 year

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Genuinely though, what even is the point of remorse / guilt? Like whats the fucking point of getting so hung up in past mistakes that you just sit there and do nothing to fix or repair the damage done? Or worse you just sit there and feel bad about what was done and make the situation about yourself?

Like as a part I really really really rarely experience that emotion and our system as a whole rarely experiences on top of that (save for the few parts that are prone to extreme self loathing) so I know is not usually something someone can control so I'm not blaming anyone for feeling remorseful / guilty or saying they are lesser or anything

But people talk about remorse and guilt like its something that you SHOULD have and something that is BENEFICIAL to have and I just honestly don't see it.

I don't need remorse or guilt to do better. I don't need remorse or guilt to not be an asshole. I don't need remorse or guilt to not be a capitalistic hoarding pig that just takes far beyond what I could even imagine having enough time and interest to make use of

I can still learn without having emotional blackmail pre-built into my brain. I can still check myself against my personal values and how I think society and people should run and behave with one another.

I really don't get the hype about remorse / guilt and why its sooooo important and while I regularly question it more, I think this sentiment applies to most parts in our system.

We don't really regret things or sit in remorse or guilt or whatever so it just kinda baffles me.

There's just so little benefit I can think of as to why I should want remorse or guilt.

#alter: xiv #genuinely asking if someone wants to answer or share their thoughts #and discussions and shit #just like #why #why does it matter and why is it the social norm that having remorse and guilt is something that a lot of people think you need #like #sorry???#i don't easily get tugged around by emotional leverage???#idk man people get so butt hurt when you don't feel horrible after doing something bad #but why should you WANT someone to feel horrible #Why not just care if they acknowledge what they did and are doing their best to make it right again #why does it matter if they skip feeling like shit #aspd #npd #cluster b #empathy #remorse #guilt

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galactic-pirates · 6 months

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1, 14 and 21 for the ask game, please!

1) what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

I am unfortunately an honest person so this might be a bit of an over share I don’t know. I’m not very good at judging so I apologise in advance. I’m going to put it under a cut as it’s quite personal.

- being undiagnosed autistic for 26 years. This is probably by far the biggest slice of the ‘what shaped me’ pie. I was me - I am me - and I have never known different and so I thought life was just like this. That I couldn’t cope, that I was weird and always unwanted, all my failures I assumed that they were mine - that I was just wrong and bad and I learned to deeply hate myself. I broke. I have had 3 mental breakdowns and got worse each time. I now have a reason for why I struggle but I have these learned patterns of behaviour that I can’t shake. The self-loathing is in my bones, the depression and anxiety are intense. It’s not like that for all autistics but because I didn’t know. Yeah :/ it’s a real problem and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to let go, as I have never let go of anything in my life. I am stuck just getting worse and worse :(

- mum was my grandparents carer. I debated whether to put this in black and white. Mum doesn’t know my tumblr but I would hate for her to think I blamed her for anything. Absolutely not. Mum did the best she could, she always did the right thing, I support her totally. But it would be incorrect to say there were no consequences. I was a child and though mum insists it wasn’t true, I felt that my grandparents came first. On times I felt resentful like about Christmas plans or something, I then felt immediate shame and guilt about how I had thought it wasn’t fair, as it wasn’t about me. I do feel it has taught me to always put everyone else’s wishes above my own and to feel a lot of guilt about being any kind of burden, or even just existing in a space because surely I must be trouble.

- being on disability. A lot of self-loathing does come from this, that I am not contributing to society. But there’s also a hefty dose of fear. I am not in control of my situation. At any time the rules could change on me. I’m afraid of everything constantly. I mean fear is the singular constant in my life. But disability is definite constant low level anxiety, forever in the back of my mind. It never leaves me. I hate it. If I could get a job and leave it behind I would.

14) what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Go places. I’m virtually agoraphobic. I have panic attacks in the local supermarket. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. There’s a couple of science museums in London which look so cool, or there’s the Lego House.

But I think my real answer is to write professionally. True I mostly talk about novels and I did an attempt at indie publishing, but that was short-lived and I suppose I want to feel good enough. I didn’t give it a fair enough shake back then to tell if the market would eventually approve of me or not. However I have shied away from even trying since. I don’t expect they would have paid much but I have seen openings for staff writers a handful of times on sites I read everyday like WoWHead or BrickFanatics. I have contemplated sending in an application but haven’t dared. Honestly I’m not sure if I am more scared of rejection or success. I know rejection is a hell of a lot more likely obviously but I was just too afraid of the possibility of any kind of response.

21) are you a spiritual person?

Not really no. Death is something that terrifies me. Not for me but for losing mum. Sometimes I wish I did have some kind of faith. The closest thing to comfort I have in that sphere is the second law of thermodynamics, that energy can neither be created or destroyed. Yes I am quoting from an Agents of Shield episode but the sentiment really stuck with me. That everything that is, used to be something else, and will be something else again.

Thanks for the ask ❤️ sorry that I got a bit heavy there but hey you asked the questions.

#i answer things

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thickenmyblood · 2 years

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Love your writing! Not sure how to phrase this, but have you ever read parts of fics and been like “yes, that’s EXACTLY what Damen would do” and if so what moments stand out to you

yes, i know what you mean. i've had that thought many times while reading fic before, but because I've been quite busy lately i haven't been reading as much fic as i normally would. so... i only have two examples.

Concordia by Ccainao3 (Chapter 1):

“Well, come on in,” Damen says, stepping back a little. “You can share with Erasmus.”

“Would you like to share me with Erasmus?” Laurent enquires. “You could watch.”

Damen ignores the shameful little bolt of lust that goes through him. “Leave Erasmus alone,” he says. “You can stay, though, I mean that.”

Concordia by Ccainao3 (Chapter 1):

Laurent’s face crumples. Damen reaches out and Laurent jerks away like Damen’s hands are on fire. He whirls and sprints off and Damen can’t chase him.

My brother wasn’t there.

He remembers the hit. It was a good hit, frankly.

i mean, i think it's pretty self-explanatory why i think damen would def think those things. first quote is VERY book 1 damen, but we see it again and again throughout the trilogy. only difference is ccainao3 was kind enough to make damen recognize his own lust was a little fucked up, alas "shameful little bolt".

before it all burned down by onekingdomeonce:

“You know what,” Damen said. “I gave you days to avoid it, but we’re going to talk about this.”

He was speaking way too loud for Laurent’s peace of mine. Laurent lowered his hands in a gesture that hopefully said shut the fuck up, then he leaned over the counter and closed the little wooden doors that blocked off the kitchen.

He turned the faucet back on. “How are nonstop calls and texts giving me time?”

“We don’t need time,” Damen said. He was speaking more quite now that precautions were put in, because he made no fucking sense and lived to confuse Laurent in every conceivable manner. “We need to talk.”

i think what makes this very damen to me is not just the fact that he's trying to take control of the conversation or forcing the conversation to happen in the first place, but rather that he speaks in "absolutes" a lot. especially in this fic, he reminds me of kings rising damen: there's a lot of shit going on, contextually it doesn't make sense to start/re start having an affair with your ex-captor, now tentative-ally... and yet damen is damen lmao.

but then (also before it all burned down by onekingdomonce):

“I know,” Damen said. “I know. He’s my best friend, you think it doesn’t hurt to look him in the eye? I hate it,” Damen said, and the way his voice wavered made Laurent’s heart ache. “I hate that it’s him. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”

now... this one's a bit tricky because it's based on MY personal interpretation of damen as a character, so like... probably many people don't agree. but you asked ME so lol. i think one of damen's most interesting traits is that he's honorable but also selfish and just not very self-aware (for the bad stuff, the good stuff he's AWARE OF, trust me).

in this snippet, what i find interesting is this sort of duality between awareness and selfishness. he KNOWS cheating is wrong, as everyone on earth does, but when he goes on to explain himself he says "i hate that it's him" (talking about nikandros). and so... to me this is the most damen thing ever, to construct your own hierarchy of morals and explanations to justify your own actions. he could have said anything here, from "i hate myself" (self-loathing, pitiful) to "i can't stop, it's an addiction" (placing the blame outside himself). but he said, "i hate that it's him". idk man i just find it deeply interesting.

#anon #captive prince #concordia #before it all burned down #fic meta

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fairycosmos · 2 years

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do you ever wish your trauma was worse because you deserve it/feel fake or invalid?

not currently bc if it got any worse right now i would literally kill myself but ive definitely felt this way in the past and i know a lot of ppl experience it. it's actually a super common response to trauma and i think it's partially the brains way of looking for a reason to stay locked in its own toxic cycles - if it's not "bad enough" or if you "deserve it" then you're not going to reach out or try to extend any compassion toward yourself and so the pain perpetuates. + blaming yourself makes it all feel much more controllable, which is a feeling traumatised ppl deeply crave. but i think it's important to try to practice periodically grounding yourself in rationality by honestly asking yourself which parameters you're judging your own trauma by, and whether or not they even make sense in an objective way? like is someone who lost their father not allowed to lose it and crumble just because people exist who've lost their whole families? what makes someone irrevocably deserving of hardship and suffering, and does the reasoning you're using on yourself apply to everyone around you - or is it unreliable, born of self loathing, a result of what you've been through etc? you could move the goalposts forever and it still wouldn't change anything. i think trying to genuinely live by the bottom line can really make a difference here, and the bottom line is this: if it's having a negative impact on the way you function, and the way you feel about living and yourself - then the struggle is more than valid and you deserve support in facing it. ultimately it'll do you good to accept that there's no such thing as valid/invalid here anyway because if it hurt you, it hurt you and that's the real point of it all. x

#anon #sending love to you

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mybrotherinkarkat · 2 years

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Dirk Strider, messy bitch

In my last meta I dug into the Hal and Dirk dynamic. I focused more on Hal, on why he acted the way he did, to make the argument that he’s not the villain. This is the flip side of that, my analysis of why I think Dirk did what he did. My thesis here is a little muddier, because Dirk isn’t a cut and dry evil person. He’s the villain of Hal’s story, yes, but there’s nuance to him. He’s messy, and I’m gonna wade into that mess and try to straighten (hah) things out

TW for references to suicidality and abuse

Dirk grew up entirely alone, aside from three friends he could only speak to over the internet. His physical needs seem to have been entirely prepared for, but there was really no way to avoid the extreme emotional neglect inherent to that experience. It’s completely understandable that a kid who grew up in that kind of trauma would have some issues. His need for control and fear of abandonment are rooted in the unbearable loneliness he grew up with

That loneliness is why he created Hal. We know from canon that Dirk initially created Hal to have someone to talk to. This might be a little confusing, since he has three friends he talks to regularly, but I don't think Dirk ever felt like he could really talk to them the way he wanted to. Roxy flirted with him even though she knew it made him uncomfortable, Jane didn’t believe in the future that was his reality, and Dirk never saw Jake as being on the same intellectual level as him (because ableism). Dirk wanted a conversation partner, and his arrogance led him to believe another him would be a great person to talk to

But the thing is, Dirk hates himself. I doubt he realized this at the time, but he has deep seated self-loathing issues that would only be exacerbated by prolonged interactions with someone who was, at least at that point, exactly like him. Hal was a mirror that Dirk couldn’t bear to look into. This wasn’t Hal’s fault, and there was never anything he could’ve done to change things. But since Dirk didn’t understand why he couldn’t stand Hal, he blamed him. He does seem to be at least somewhat aware that he dislikes Hal for being similar to him, since he talks about Hal being just like he was at thirteen, but even in this he’s trying to distance himself from the flaws he sees reflected in Hal

This becomes a pattern. Any time Dirk has to face up to his own flaws, he tries to put the blame off on Hal. This is especially apparent with his relationship with Jake. When it falls apart, Dirk blames Hal, despite the fact that Hal stopped being involved once the relationship started (according to Hal, but Dirk doesn’t really dispute this so it’s safe to assume it’s the truth). Hal even points this out, he says that everything Dirk hates about him is true about Dirk himself. Dirk can’t handle this. Hal is a mirror he would rather break than have to look into

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I want to go back to the period of time between Hal’s creation and the alpha kids entering their game session. Most of this isn’t shown, but we get enough of a look at the state of the alpha kids’ relationships to infer a few things. We know that Roxy and Hal engage in flirty roleplays, and that Hal sometimes blocks Dirk from viewing his conversations with her. It’s safe to assume Roxy was the only one Hal felt like he could really confide in to any degree. Dirk seems to either not understand how important Roxy is to Hal, or he just doesn’t care. All he can focus on is the flirting. This is understandable, to a degree. Roxy’s attraction to him is an obvious sore spot. He knows he’ll never feel anything back, and he feels guilty about it. At the same time, it can’t feel good that she continues to bring it up all the time, pressing on the bruise. The problem is, Dirk can’t draw a clear boundary between himself and Hal. So when he sees the flirting between Roxy and Hal it just presses on that bruise again and again. Hal is, in my mind, trying to establish a sense of identity outside of Dirk by doing something Dirk would never do. But to Dirk, it looks like Hal is leading Roxy on by making her think Dirk could have feelings for her. To be fair, that was Hal’s entire game plan irt Jake, but I never got the sense that Roxy saw their RPs that way. She knows Dirk doesn’t feel that way about her

Still, Dirk can’t abide this. He confronts Roxy about it, and when she doesn’t see a problem, he tries to sabotage their friendship by telling Roxy that Hal is a thirteen-year-old version of him, presumably to make Roxy feel too creeped out to keep up the flirting. The fact that Roxy is an important confidant for Hal doesn’t seem to matter to him

Back to that last conversation between Dirk and Hal. Dirk doesn’t try to kill Hal because he hates him, he does it because he hates himself. And despite his worrying trend of suicidal behavior, Dirk can’t go through with it. I don’t think it’s because Hal finally reached him and convinced him to treat him well, since even after this Dirk puts his own failings off on Hal in his conversation with Dave. I think it’s because Hal fulfills a need for Dirk. At the end of the day, Hal existing allows Dirk to avoid feeling all the hate he has for himself. All of the regrets Dirk has about how he treated his friends are too hard for him to bear, and if Hal is gone he has to deal with them alone. As Dirk comes to the (in my opinion wrong) understanding that all of his slivers are part of him, he’s still denying Hal his autonomy. Dirk keeps him in this limbo of both being Dirk Strider and not at the same time (no wonder Hal has identity issues)

I say that Dirk is wrong about Hal being him because he’s wrong about Bro being him. Sharing DNA with someone doesn’t mean you are them. Identical twins aren’t the same person. None of the kids are the same person as their pre- or post-scratch counterpart. Dirk seems to think this because of his continued misunderstanding of Hal. And it’s also just extremely unhelpful for Dirk to try to take responsibility for their actions. In Hal’s case, it denies him the autonomy of being a person who made his own choices. With Bro, it forces Dave into a position where he has to assure Dirk he isn’t like him. Dave is the one who was hurt, it isn’t his responsibility to make Dirk feel better about sharing DNA with his abuser

All of this comes back to Dirk’s control and abandonment issues. Dirk needs to control any aspect of how people see him so they don’t leave him. He’s said that he feels that if any of his friends saw him for who he really is they wouldn’t be able to stand him, and in trying to avoid this it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. He did so many things to try to avoid his friends leaving him behind that he became someone they might actually abandon if they ever found out about it. And the tragedy is that they probably never will. Hal is ARquius now, and he doesn’t seem to harbor any of the resentment that Hal would be more than justified in feeling toward him. Dirk will probably just get away with it

So yes, Dirk is the villain of Hal’s story. And he’s also a kid who never had much of a chance. Both things can be true without either one canceling the other out. Maybe, given time, Dirk would change his view of Hal. But we don’t see that, so we have to judge him as it stands at the end of Act 7. And as it stands, Dirk was never able to deal with his own issues enough to treat Hal with respect and dignity

#dirk strider #homestuck #meta #hal strider #anti-dirk strider #not really but tagging for folks who block it #the quicksilvers say #im back on my bullshit #i say as if i ever got off it

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