#darling is insecure

[peppymintdreams]

darlings insecurities get the better of them and they break down

Shattered Reflections

Andrew Marston x Darling

In a raw and emotional confrontation, Darling confronts their crippling insecurities, leading to a heart-wrenching breakdown, only to find solace in Andrew’s unwavering love and reassurance.

The evening had settled into a quiet calm, the dim lights of the apartment casting soft shadows on the walls. Outside, the rain tapped gently against the windowpanes, a rhythm that usually brought Darling comfort. But tonight, it was drowned out by the noise in their head.

They had been sitting on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours, staring blankly at their reflection in the large mirror across the room. Their hands trembled slightly as they fidgeted with the edge of their sleeve, their mind racing with thoughts they couldn’t escape. Thoughts that had been gnawing at them for weeks, maybe even months.

Darling wasn’t sure when it had started—this slow unraveling of their self-worth—but lately, every glance in the mirror seemed to reflect nothing but inadequacies. And it was getting harder and harder to hide it. From Andrew, from themselves.

The sound of the front door opening and closing startled them from their spiraling thoughts. Andrew was home. They heard him moving through the apartment, probably setting down his coat and keys, unaware of the storm brewing just behind the bedroom door.

When he finally entered, his face softened at the sight of Darling sitting quietly on the bed, though his eyes flickered with concern. He always had a way of reading them, even when they didn’t want to be read.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Andrew remarked, stepping closer, his voice gentle. “Everything okay?”

Darling swallowed hard, feeling the lump in their throat grow. They nodded, not trusting their voice. But Andrew wasn’t one to let things slide so easily. He sat beside them on the bed, his eyes searching their face for answers.

“Darling,” he said softly, “you’re not okay. What’s going on?”

For a moment, they considered brushing it off, forcing a smile, pretending like everything was fine. It was easier that way. But something inside of them snapped. The floodgates opened, and they couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” Darling stammered, their voice cracking. “I just... I don’t feel like I’m enough.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? Enough for what?”

“For you. For us. For anything,” they blurted out, the words tumbling out before they could stop them. Their hands gripped the bedsheets tightly, knuckles white. “I look at myself, and all I see are the things I’m not. The things I’ll never be.”

Andrew’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to process what he was hearing. “Where is this coming from?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. “You’ve never said anything like this before.”

Darling shook their head, biting their lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to seem... weak. But it’s been there, Andrew. It’s always there.”

There was a long, heavy pause, the air thick with tension as Andrew absorbed their words. He shifted slightly, as if struggling to find the right thing to say. “You’re not weak, Darling. Everyone has insecurities. But... why would you think you’re not enough? Where is this coming from?”

Darling let out a bitter laugh, a harsh sound that surprised even them. “Where do I start?” Their voice grew sharper, the rawness of their emotions rising to the surface. “You’re so... perfect. You’ve always been so good at everything, and I feel like I’m just... trailing behind. I look at you, and I feel like I don’t deserve you. Like you’ll eventually realize I’m not worth your time.”

Andrew’s face softened with something between sadness and disbelief. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” Darling snapped, their voice louder now, their emotions fraying. “Because it sure doesn’t feel that way. Every time I look in the mirror, all I see is someone who isn’t enough. I’m not smart enough, I’m not attractive enough, I’m not interesting enough. And you... you could have anyone, Andrew. Why would you stay with someone like me?”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, all Andrew could do was stare at them, his expression unreadable. Darling could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was struggling to make sense of their confession.

“Darling,” he started, his voice strained, “that’s not fair. You’re putting all this pressure on yourself, and it’s not—”

“Don’t tell me it’s not fair!” Darling interrupted, their voice breaking as the tears finally spilled over. They stood up abruptly, pacing in front of him as the storm inside them raged. “You don’t understand. You don’t see what I see when I look in the mirror. You don’t hear the things I tell myself every day.”

Andrew rose to his feet, his own frustration evident now. “Then help me understand, because I’m trying, Darling. I’m trying to figure out why you’re tearing yourself apart over things that don’t even make sense to me.”

Darling stopped, their chest heaving as they wiped furiously at their tear-streaked cheeks. “I’m tearing myself apart because I don’t know how to be enough for you!” Their voice cracked with desperation, and the vulnerability in their words made Andrew’s heart clench. “I love you so much, but I’m scared every day that you’ll realize you made a mistake being with me. That you’ll leave, and I’ll be left with nothing.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Andrew stood there, his face stricken, and Darling collapsed onto the bed, burying their face in their hands as the sobs wracked their body. They hated this, hated feeling so weak, so exposed. But they couldn’t stop the flood of insecurities from drowning them.

Andrew hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room and kneeling in front of them. He gently pried their hands away from their face, cupping their cheeks as he forced them to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but firm, his eyes filled with something Darling couldn’t quite read—something intense, something real. “You are enough. You are more than enough. I don’t know where all this is coming from, but you need to hear this: I’m with you because I want to be with you. Because I love you. Not because you’re perfect, not because I think you have to be anything other than who you are.”

Darling shook their head, the tears still streaming down their face. “But what if—”

“There is no ‘what if,’” Andrew cut them off, his voice fierce. “I’m not going anywhere. I see you, Darling. I see all of you. The good, the bad, the insecurities, all of it. And I still choose you.”

Darling stared at him, their chest tightening with a mixture of disbelief and hope. They had been so certain that their insecurities would eventually drive him away. But now, looking into his eyes, they saw something they hadn’t expected: unwavering certainty.

“I don’t know how to believe that,” Darling whispered, their voice barely audible.

Andrew’s grip on their face tightened ever so slightly, grounding them in the moment. “Then let me help you believe it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away their tears. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the soft patter of rain against the windows and the quiet hum of their breathing as they tried to calm the storm within. Darling closed their eyes, leaning into Andrew’s touch, their heart aching with both the weight of their insecurities and the faint flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t as alone as they thought.

And in that fragile moment, as Andrew held them close, Darling allowed themselves to believe—just a little—that maybe they were enough after all.

[harmonysanreads]

I like the idea of Phainon with a "stranger" type of darling? Inspired by arranged marriage tropes but in my mind darling ain't married to him, just a one sided crush.

Those arranged marriage tropes where it's clearly loveless but the husband and wife treats each other nicely in a civil yet distant way; that kind of self-aware yet mannered darling seems fun to be paired with a human golden retriever type.

-💅

You make Phainon... nervous, so to say.

It's not that he's unfamiliar with the emotion, quite the opposite. The difference arises in the way he usually handles it, transitioning to something synonymous with terrible when in relation to you. Ordinarily, he's able to dress his doubts with laughter and humor until he can be alone to peacefully marinate in pessimism. When you're passing by, most often not exchanging anything more than a polite nod or greeting, it should be expected of him to take it like a normal human being.

Yet, his mind blanks. If he's lucky, his motor functions might be quick enough to return the gesture. If not, another instance of a flustered Phainon will entertain the other Chrysos Heirs. It was worse in the beginning, when he was still new to the dazzles of Okhema, the unsaid rules of a tasteful culture. You never looked at the clumsy village boy with judgment though. Perhaps you should've, then he wouldn't feel so squeamish, wouldn't be a breath away from his knees buckling at that smile of yours.

It did not take others long to notice the influence you had on him. What would take hours of lecturing from Aglaea to get through to Phainon's head, he'd do so with vigor if you even mentioned it. Upon realizing how much more cooperative he is when you are the incentive, the Dress-master just had to utilize it. It's no harm, just weaving and pulling a few strings — ultimately, it's for the welfare of Amphoreus anyway.

But Phainon himself did not seize the opportunity like she'd hoped, how can he when he's still so unworthy of standing next to you? Lend him some time, until he's a better man, at the very least. After all, he despises the thought of not knowing how to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

[brodyfoxxsmassivetits]

laur and their strange creature thing

[eahsayswhat]

I love how authoritative Apple looks moments before her brain catches up with her mouth. Cue the flustered mess in 3...2...1...

Happy Pride, everybody!

[maisummer]

I be sad for no fucking reason

[ysaefinn]

I made progress on the sucollaru fic, i can sleep guilt free on my husband's biceps

[awkwardchaosposts]

Pavlov's Dog

Part 2

Yandere!Mira x male!reader

Trigger warning: this fanfic contains dark themes such as mentions of stalking, obsession, manipulation,suggestive wording and swearing. Minors DNI

Please note: these kind of dynamics are purely fiction and I do not support the actions or words of the characters. This is also not proofread.

/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

Mira Kano was the most popular girl in your school. Every girl wanted to be her. Guys and even some women wanted to date her.

Smart,rich,polite and drop dead gorgeous. She was everyone's dream girl.

"Your move"

Her voice got you out of your own head. You can't believe you're playing chess with the Mira Kano. Geez you felt like a nervous schoolboy again.

"Right" Despite being the top ten of your school chess was apparently not your forte. You lost your horse and bishop within your first five moves.

She had to admit it was kind of entertaining playing with you. Not because you were a challenge,she could easily wipe the floor with you but your moves were so random. As if you didn't have a strategy and just focused on one small detail instead of the big picture.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" She wasn't completely cruel. She'd give you a chance.

You realised your mistake and tried moving your king elsewhere since within the thirty minutes you have played you were in checkmate. "Oh. Sorry"

"Not there either" she smirked with amusement in watching you try to save your king, eventually just giving advice instead

"Move your king to the left"

You listened and offered an awkward smile "Thanks"

"Your welcome" she toyed with her queen while keeping her eyes on you. It made you uncomfortable.

You weren't a fan of eye contact. Sure you'd give occasional glances to come off as respectful but not much more than that.

She might be beautiful but the way she looked at you made you feel like prey being hunted by some apex predator.

"What were you up to before you came here?" she smiled,trying to appear more inviting by lessening the intensity of her eye contact

"Oh nothing much. I uh I work at MissFreeze"

"That frozen yogurt place?" she was a bit surprised considering how well you did in school "Huh. Fell a bit off the wagon then?"

Ouch.

You wanted to argue but it was kind of true. You were studying to become a biochemical engineer but pressure has a way of breaking a person so you dropped out.

"Well I wouldn't say fell off. More like...stumbled"

Your rephrasing to make yourself feel better about your situation made her smile.

"Well I'm a psychiatrist"

You were a bit surprised. Everyone thought she'd become some politician,idol or CEO.

"And do you enjoy it?"

"I guess it's better than working for MissFreeze"

You bit back any ill words coming to mind. Was she mocking you?

"Move your horse like this" helped out again,showing you how to protect your king

"Thanks" Your moment of frustration sizzled down quickly but the way she looked so amused rubbed you off the young boy.

"Nothing" Mira forced her smile to be toned down a notch but kept her eyes on you after making her move. "You're really bad at strategizing"

Her observation was true so you merely nodded. You weren't ever good at chess. "I guess"

"You're good at following orders though. Maybe that should be your new job" she joked but your expression was priceless.

You must've heard wrong. What did she mean by that? Than again what sane person would randomly make someone play chess with them after just saving them from being shot by this Niragi guy

~*~*~*~*~*~

You're sure it's nothing. You're just being paranoid,the games have a way of doing that to you. But you couldn't help but shake that feeling that someone was watching you.

Maybe your social anxiety is just getting worse.

On the bright side you've made some friends. Mira, despite her insults,seemed like she meant well. Arisu and Usagi were kind but they always made you feel like you were third wheeling.

There was this red haired girl. Her name was Charlotte. A foreigner from Ireland. She was very interesting and fun to be around. She'd tell stories about the places she's travelled to and had pretty blue eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She wasn't a fan of this Charlotte woman. She'd been watching you from the dark room that Chishiya and Kuina usually inhibited. It had over 6 different monitors. Security footage that shed spend about an hour a day just looking through. for fun.

She didn't usually do this but your timid and shy nature intrigued her. You weren't selfish or overbearing and controlling like the rest of the men she's messed with. You were eager to please every single person around you.

She nearly broke the floral teacup in her hands. Despite her smile she was seething with anger.

Mira didn't like sharing her toys.

/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

Part 1:

[lothpi]

make myself sick on the daily.

[sweetdarling27]

Ill destroy any sense of self I have, ill change my entire identity, ill even change my fucking soul

Ill be whatever you want me to be

[peppymintdreams]

A Fragile Thread

Andrew Marston x Darling

Andrew sat alone at his desk, the dim glow of his desk lamp casting sharp shadows on the walls of his otherwise empty apartment. Papers and open books lay untouched in front of him, forgotten as the deafening silence consumed the space. The clock ticked with an almost mocking regularity, each second dragging on longer than the last.

It had been three hours since you walked out. Three hours of agonizing silence that made every corner of the room feel hollow. Andrew had replayed the argument a dozen times in his mind, searching for the exact moment when it had spiraled out of control.

It had started with something so small. You’d forgotten your keys again—a tiny mistake, one you were known for, one he’d never minded until today. Andrew had scolded you, his tone sharper than he intended. You had fired back, frustration spilling over in a way that caught him off guard. The argument snowballed, words growing harsher, sharper, until you finally said the one thing he couldn’t erase from his mind:

"Maybe it’s easier if I’m not here."

He hadn’t meant for it to go that far. He hadn’t thought you’d actually leave. But when the door slammed behind you, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The apartment felt colder, emptier. He had tried to convince himself you just needed time to cool off, but as the hours dragged on, his resolve cracked.

Where were you? Were you safe? Were you angry—or worse, hurt?

Andrew clenched his fists and grabbed his coat. He couldn’t stay here, not when every passing minute made the knot in his chest tighten. He had to find you.

The night was bitterly cold, frost glinting like tiny shards of glass under the streetlights. Andrew wandered through the quiet streets, his mind racing. He checked your usual spots—the coffee shop you loved, the bookstore where you spent hours browsing—but each was dark and empty.

He was beginning to panic when he spotted you in the park. You were sitting on a bench, bundled in your coat, your face tilted up to the sky. From a distance, you looked calm, but as Andrew approached, he noticed the subtle way your shoulders hunched, your hands clenched tightly in your lap.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You didn’t look at him. “Why does it matter to you?”

The bitterness in your tone cut deep, but Andrew swallowed the hurt. “Because it’s freezing, and you didn’t even bring gloves,” he said, gesturing to your trembling hands.

Finally, you turned to him, your eyes glinting with unshed tears. “I’m fine. You can go back to your perfect apartment and your perfect life, Andrew. I don’t need you to check on me.”

Andrew froze, stunned by the venom in your words. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You act like I’m a burden,” you said, your voice shaking. “Like I’m just some messy, forgetful person who’s always screwing things up. I know I’m not perfect, but you don’t have to rub it in all the time.”

Andrew felt his chest tighten as your words hit him like a physical blow. “That’s not true,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve never thought of you as a burden.”

“You sure about that?” you shot back, your eyes narrowing. “Because it sure feels like it when you’re constantly pointing out every little thing I do wrong.”

Andrew’s composure cracked, his usual calm replaced by raw desperation. “I don’t think you’re a burden,” he said, his voice breaking. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I hate myself for making you feel like you’re not.”

You blinked, startled by the emotion in his voice.

“I’m not perfect,” Andrew continued, his hands trembling at his sides. “I’m flawed, and I make mistakes, and sometimes I get so caught up in trying to keep everything together that I forget what really matters.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes locking with yours. “But you matter. More than anything.”

You looked away, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like I’m always disappointing you.”

Andrew’s heart broke at your words. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face. “You could never disappoint me,” he said firmly. “You’re human. You’re going to forget your keys, or spill coffee, or leave the toothpaste cap off. And I’m going to do dumb things, too, like snap at you when I’m stressed. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Your lip quivered as you looked down at him. “I don’t know how to believe that right now.”

“Then let me prove it to you,” Andrew said, his voice trembling. “Let me show you every day how much you mean to me. But please, don’t shut me out. Don’t walk away. I can’t—” His voice broke, and he looked down, unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t lose you.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The cold wind whipped around you, but Andrew didn’t move. Then, slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Andrew let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours. “No. I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the world around you fading away.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Can we go home?”

Andrew nodded, standing and pulling you into his arms. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Let’s go home.”

[ravioli-fries]

Walliford doodle bc I miss him.. 💔

[snckt]

no, unfortunately the smallest man who ever lived is not about thumbelina

[shiny-jaded-fae]

I'm trying to fight art block so bad. Send help. 💀

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

nothing gives me that awful not on purpose alienated feeling of "not like other girls (derogatory)" like reading the cutesy little real slice of life tidbits my fellow novelists post. "my silly little dog barked at a squirrel! as if she would know what to do with it!" I'm still grieving my recently crossed over dog who was bred to hunt boar and would politely catch and eat rabbits only when I was distracted, who was also battle arena champion of the dog park with the drug deals and street prostitutes working the parking lot. "I've baked a scrumptious old timey cake!" I'm slamming back my second protein shake of the day and eating my three egg whites. what's a roux. "Oh! I've gone back to partner dancing! So strenuous!" Me, shins covered in bruises from pole or muay thai, possibly bleeding from the mouth, who knows?: idk man I'm not sure i go here.

[darklyhandsome]

I'd like to be hugging Astarion right now.

[clemencetaught]

"Here," it's... it's just bread. It's a bun, sure large enough to still some amount of hunger, but it's just bread. And yet, María holds it in front of Patrick with the face of someone who'd consider it a criminal offense to refuse it. Nevermind that she's stolen it from one of the banquets. "Just making sure you're eating." ((RUH-ROH it's Len again~ and I promise I forgot about the Peeta bread thing until I re-read this IGNORE THAT--!! FDKLGJDLAJSGF Hope you didn't end up getting sick BUT IF YOU DID HOPE YOU'RE RESTING AND FEELING BETTER SOON 🥺)) || okay but panem is also known as the nation of bread & circuses– ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )

He doesn’t eat much in the Capitol. 

Which is ironic, seeing how most of his life before the games, Patrick was always hungry. Always trying between schooling and factory shifts to figure out when his next meal was going to come. Why else would he and Hyuk have taken out tesserae all those years ago? It was preferable, playing the odds in the Reaping to starving for the rest of the year.

Nowadays, food is the least of his concerns. Whereas there is still a dearth in District Three, there is surplus in the Capitol. No surplus isn’t the right word; a surplus would mean the Capitol keeps the extra for the future. No, there is an excess of food in the Capitol, an excess that is dumped and left to rot after the pigs have had their share, have had their fun.

When he remembers that, food in the Capitol, no matter how finely it’s been prepared, becomes disgusting. Repulsive when it is combined with the thought of the districts, his people, still starving and fighting one another for the Capitol’s ‘scraps’. One plate is enough for Patrick to feel the bile swish in his stomach and even crawl back up his throat– how is he supposed to enjoy this filth now?

(But of course the Capitol has a way of perverting everything. Who else would have invented a liquid that makes one vomit what was just digested to make room for more food?)

“You didn’t have to,” is the first set of words to come out of his mouth, however. It’s such a childish gesture on her part; as a victor, she and her family should have more than enough riches to cover for food whether she’s in the Capitol or her own district. That and it’s considered normal to take leftovers from these banquets.

And yet, she’s staring him down like they are in covenance– it’s odd…strange how the things the Capitol deem sacred, she’ll approach with the irreverence of a foreigner and yet with the most mundane of objects, like a loaf of bread, most likely one of the hundred baked today and will be replicated tomorrow, like it is worth the weight of gold. He takes a hold of María’s loot. The loaf is still warm, freshly out of the oven, he wants to believe. Like it came from one of the bakeries in say, District 12, rather than a Capitol banquet table. Does she look at the Capitol and its elaborate feasts the same way? District Eight is probably just as bad if not even worse than his own district when it comes to food shortages so maybe her thievery makes sense.

When one has gone without food for long enough, no amount of surplus is enough to satiate the insecurity. He knows that feeling all too well. His stomach growls in anticipation. “…Normally, the Capitol likes to have this with caviar.” A delicacy from District Four along with butter shipped from District Ten. He splits the loaf in two, the inside crackling and breaking into two crisp pieces. “But I think…I think it tastes just as delicious on its own.” He hands María one half while taking a bite out of the other. “Take the other half; I can’t finish it on my own.”

It tastes delicious.