#me when i'm full of a horrible rage that i can't put down (i am a traumatized dog in a human body). also ✨️ witchcraft vibes ✨️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

faunabel · 1 year ago

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rant/vent/whatever. uh. abt my shitty family. i'm pissed the fuck off. sorry. not watered down to be more gentle. i am a furnace of rage. prbly don't read. TW for a lot of things.

i am so so so fucking tired of my family. my mother and sister are exactly the fucking same always pushing people and then pushing the blame onto them. you're too defensive you're immature you need to grow up i can't talk to you

you say they make you feel bad and they say it's not their fault. yes, the fuck it is. i'm so fucking sorry you lack even the most basic sense of awareness to understand that conversations are a two way street and you making people feel like shit is not a choice YOU get to make. YOUR ass does not get to decide that actually you did nothing wrong because everyone always always always is too sensitive even though you both are the most sensitive fuckers on the PLANET who bitch and whine when YOUR feelings get hurt but god forbid you hurt someone else and put in the effort to communicate properly. you can't just run your mouth and decide how you're communicating is valid and the other person is in the wrong no matter what.

i had to do everything on my own and be horribly traumatized throughout my entire childhood and teen years, and even beyond then, because i was severely neglected and abused and had no choice. but no, all i get is "get over it" and "i was hurt too" and all that other bullshit. but nooo i'm just lazy. i'm "childish." ahaha. fucking hilarious from people who are so lacking in any sense of emotional depth.

i am alone. i have always been alone. you continue to make me alone by pushing how YOU view the world onto me and deciding i'm immature if i rightfully. fucking. get. angry. when you continue! not to listen! and twist the story to fit how you see it!

yet i'm expected to function like everyone else? when my home isn't even a safe fucking place to live? i can't work a full time job because my health is so bad? yet nobody will help me? insulting me and making me feel like shit is their idea of help? calling names when i don't react the way they want is their idea of help? acting like they're so fucking tough and mature when they have the emotional depth of a goddamn peanut is "mature?"

"you will understand when you grow up"

no. i have grown up. i learned so much on my own because i fucking had to. nobody was there for me through any of it. i had no choice but to process years worth of trauma alone. no choice but to feel the most body wrenching emotions that left me paralyzed on the floor from their intensity. no choice but to continue dealing with remnants of severe trauma on a daily fucking basis all while being hounded by everyone else that i'm just not trying hard enough and whatever fucking insult comes next. but i still chose to have compassion and be as kind as i can and if expecting better treatment and any sense of empathy instead of controlling bullshit behavior is "immature" then i'm immature as fuck and you can kindly go piss in your shoes <3 you are perpetuating a cycle of abuse and it's pathetic. you can grow up.

god. i'm so fucking tired of all this invisible trauma nobody sees and assumes i just don't want to put in the effort. i'm so tired of constantly being made to feel like i can't have fucking emotions. or wants. or needs. or boundaries. or anything. because people will just continue to push that i shouldn't exist unless i submit and agree with them. why the fuck is everything always my fault. take accountability for once that you're not a perfect little princess. you're a bitch, in fact. sorry you demonize everyone with emotions just because you're an absolute asshole with no willingness to accommodate. but again... god forbid someone hurt YOUR feelings. god forbid. then it's eeeeveryone's problem.

if you continually dismiss someone's feelings and make them out to be crazy, they're allowed to get upset and lash out at you. go fuck yourself. and if you call them immature like you're so high and mighty, go fuck yourself with a goddamn sword. hard. in the ass. with NO LUBE. thanks.

i do not know what gentleness or warmth feels like. it's always been me alone against everyone else. i'm so tired of this shit. i want to sleep. i see little point in trying to actually be kind when everyone else is so fucking cruel. i'd rather just die and be done with it.

i still struggle to trust my own perception on anything. i always think maybe it's my fault. maybe i am too sensitive. maybe if i was calmer and better and more well behaved, people wouldn't hurt me. maybe i deserve to be hurt. maybe it's always my fault for being sensitive.

but then i also feel like fuck you. you're all just sorry as hell. i am so fucking tired of having to compartmentalize shit just to function around people who i absolutely despise. no wonder i have DID.

god it just makes me angry. i was alone my entire fucking life and your idea of "wanting better for me" is insulting me. GOD. fuck off. just admit you have a power complex and shut the hell up. you didn't help me when i was a child so why the fuck do you think i'd want your "help" now?

it's hilarious because i'd love to work a full time job and move the fuck away from anyone even remotely related to me. but i literally cannot. the last time i worked a job, i had to quit three weeks in because suppressed sexual trauma resurfaced and i absolutely lost my mind. but yes... definitely just lazy. definitely just immature. not at all terrified of history repeating itself and spending another 6 months as a terrified shell, with literally no support whatsoever. not to mention that i was living in a hotel room with both of my parents during this. sleeping on the bathroom floor. constantly being screamed at with no privacy or comfort. to the point of where i, who usually does not have full DID blackouts, would have blackouts where i woke up not knowing wtf was going on. nope. not horribly traumatized at all. just "lazy." it has been 3 years and i'm still not recovered but yeah. ok.

#( 💭 faun thinks )#delete later #tw #rant #vent

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sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities.

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #albus dumbledore

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girl-in-the-tower · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER I

Ramshackle Dorm - Birthday Party Venue

Kore: Woah, to think the ghosts would go all out like this just for today! Even though I told them that they didn't have to bother with it, they wouldn't listen, at all... It's... It's kind of embarrassing to be fussed over like this! If it was Grim I would have understood but this, uh...

Ah! And I'm supposed to have a guest over today as well! Hm, I guess some tea should be in order... maybe some cakes as well... I wonder if there's any sugar left...

Ace: Yo!

Kore: Ah, just a moment- Oh, it's just you, Ace.

Ace: Ha? What's that supposed to mean? 'It's just you'? It's super rude to greet your dear guest like this, you know?

Kore: Is that so? But calling you a guest is...

Ace: What's that?

Kore: Hm...

Ace: Well, doesn't matter because my feelings were hurt either way! So I'll help myself to this krumkake to make myself feel better! Let's dig in~

Kore: Hey, that- Aaah, that was meant to be for Grim. He kept complaining all day yesterday that he should have a cake all to himself too since it's a special day so I woke up extra early just to make it for him. Now he's gonna be mad...

Ace: Haa? A whole cake just for that furball? You've got to be kidding me!

Kore: What are you talking about? You know how much he likes krumkake.

Ace: Nah, I doubt there's really anything that guy won't eat... But that's not the point. You're spoiling him too much. He's gotten really fat, you know?

Kore: It's fine. I still make sure he exercises and he looks cute round like that too, so it's not a problem.

Ace: No, I definitely still think there's something wrong here. Mainly with your head.

Kore: Haaaaaaa, you wanna pick a figh-

Ace: Oh, I almost forgot! Here you go!

Kore: ... What's this?

Ace: Isn't it obvious?

Kore: Well... Huh? Wait a minute- That can't-!

Ace: Ta-da! It's a limited edition Griffons varsity jacket that's been all the rage with Magift meatheads like you~

Kore: No way!! This is- This is-

Ace: Cool, righ- Hey!! Don't jump on me like that! You almost knocked me off the chair!

Kore: Sorry, hahaha! I was so happy I just couldn't contain myself! To think that I would be able to actually get my hands onto something so valuable!

Ace: Yeah, we figured you'd like i-

Kore: This season has really been a blessing from above for them, you know? Everybody is in top shape and playing at their best! I heard their new manager actually made them go through this super difficult training regime that has been working wonders for them. Though it's only speculation so far!

Ace: Uh, Kor-

Kore: If you ask me, it's definitely also thanks to those new brooms that they ordered for the team. The wood is apparently from the Valley of Thorns and super-resistant so they go all out without worrying about breaking them. For the moves that the team is pulling, they really need that propulsion time! Even a second helps when you're in a headlock. I remember back in the vs Mandrakes game that they switched brooms in between-

Ace: Heeeeey! You Magift boar woman! Can you hear me?

Kore: Wh-Why are you yelling like that?! I'm right next to you!

Ace: Haaaa, when you start talking about Magift you might as well be in a completely different world... No wonder they all think of you as the Magift Encyclopedia. I bet you have hundreds of useless pieces of information like that stuck in your head.

Kore: You-! Huh? What's this?

Ace: A-Ah! That!

Kore: It's rice pudding- Ah! It's homemade from the Mountains!

Ace: Hm? Ah, ye-yeah... That came with the jacket...

Kore: Eh? They put pudding in jackets when they sell them?!

Ace: O-Obviously! Don't tell me you didn't know? Bwahaha, man, you sure are clueless...

Kore: ... It's my favourite flavour too...

CHAPTER II

Ace: Alright, next to the first question!

Kore: Eh?! Question?! Is this a quiz of some kind?!

Ace: I guess you could think of it like that, so anyway- Your first question as today's birthday girl issssss: "If you were stuck on a deserted island, who would you take with you?" Hm, here it says that you can't pick members of your own dorm, but given that you guys don't even have a dorm, I'm not sure that the restriction applies. Not that it matters since you wouldn't choose Grim anyway, right?

Kore: Huh? Why not?

Ace: You're serious?! You'd pick that furball?! Hey, we're talking about a deserted island here so think carefully! Don't you want to get off it?!

Kore: Well, obviously I would... But...

Ace: But?

Kore: I can do that on my own.

Ace: Huh?

Kore: Survival is all about securing shelter, food and formulating an escape plan. If it's a deserted island I assume there would be some fauna and animals too, so we could feed ourselves through fruit gathering and hunting. It might be hard if we don't have any tools, however, but I think Grim's claws would be sharp enough to cut through the skin and meat fairly easily. I make sure he takes good care of them after all.

Ace: I-I see...

Kore: If there's no drinkable water then we'll have to boil some from the sea in order to deal with the thirst. Grim's flames, when properly utilized, would be able to do such a thing. Not to mention that he could start fires to keep us warm at night and to cook food to sustain us! Also, it could be a great emergency signal if we end up at sea and need rescuing.

Ace: You want to use him as a flare?!

Kore: That sounds so mean! I would only do that as a last resort, however! Grim's pretty sensitive about having his belly scratched so I wouldn't do anything to make him uncomfortable like that!

Ace: Haaaa, I get it, I get it! So you're saying that the furball has his practical uses too. But I can't help but worry about some flaws...

Kore: Flaws?

Ace: No matter how much you feed that glutton, his stomach will never be full, you know! Whatever provisions you managed to gather, he's sure to inhale them with the first occasion!

Kore: Wah- That's a horrible thing to say! There's no way my Grim is so selfish!

Ace: My Grim?! What is he?! Your child?! And he's totally selfish, you know!!

Kore: HAAAAA?! ARE YOU REALLY PICKING A FIGHT WITH ME?!

Ace: Ca-Calm down!! I take it back, ok?! You can bring the furball with you!

Kore: Hmph.

Ace: Seriously, getting this angry over that cat...

Kore: Isn't that normal? Grim is my special person, after all!

Ace: SPECIAL PERSON?!

Kore: The person you care for a lot, like they're part of you, right? Like Cay-senpai said!

Ace: I-I see, so that's...

Kore: Being on a deserted island isn't ideal, but at the end of the day I know I can be ok on my own. Farmwork, housework - those are things that I'm used to from the Mountains. Life isn't so easy back home, but we all make do with what we can - magic or no magic. Even if I'm stuck in a bad situation, I can manage to get through so I don't need anybody else.

Well, that's what I thought before I came to this place anyway...

Ace: ...

Kore: Besides you're wrong about something!

Ace: Huh?

Kore: In order to survive it's not just physical attributes that are important, but mental ones as well. And in that case, Grim has the real trump card!

Ace: He-He does?!

Kore: Mm! You see, Grim, he... has the cutest paws and the fluffiest fur in the world!

Ace: HUH?!

Kore: Mm! Every time I feel like giving up or am reaching the end of the rope, all I'd have to do is give his paw pads a little squeeze or lay on his tummy and my mood would instantly clear up again! In a situation full of despair like that it would make a world of difference, you know?

Ace: SO HE'S THERE JUST FOR MORAL SUPPORT?!

Kore: Well, that too! It's important after all!

Ah, this pudding is really good actually...

CHAPTER III

Ace: Haaaa, I give up... Your boar mind is way too difficult to understand...

Kore: HUH?!

Ace: Anyway, let's get on with our next question and- Ah.

Kore: Hm? What is it? You suddenly stopped in the middle of the sentence. Did the falcon get your tongue, hehe?

Ace: It's a cat, not a falcon! And I only stopped because- uh...

Kore: What?

Ace: "You're offered the chance to pick another dorm, which one would you choose?"

Kore: ...

Ace: I swear, that Headmaster doesn't even think of these questions at all...

Kore: Yeah, there's no way I can answer that...

Ace: I figured. So instead! "Please share your opinions on the dorms!"

Kore: Ah!

Ace: Nice, right? You can definitely count on me when it comes to quick thinking, you know?

Kore: ... I guess.

Ace: You guess?!

Kore: I'll start with Diasomnia then!

Ace: Hey, don't ignore-

Kore: Hm, I'm not really sure about the atmosphere there but- Don't you think that their interior decor is pretty fancy? I haven't seen stuff like that in magazines for quite a while, so I feel like it's definitely something that must have required a lot of work! It's kinda dreary though, what will the windows not letting enough light and the greenery around it could stand to be looked after better, hm...

Ace: So you're only interested in the decor, huh? Alright, what about Ignihyde?

Kore: It's too technological.

Ace: Huh, I guess that you're right. For somebody like you, it would really be a struggle living there...

Kore: ...

It's even more depressing than Diasomnia, so I feel like I would be stuck in a bad mood without enough sunlight, you know? Though I must admit, it really is super clean inside! That's a very important detail! Clean homes are necessary for good health!

Ace: There you go again, sounding like a mom... Next is Pomefiore!

Kore: IT'S SUPER FLASHY!

Ace: I know~?

Kore: No, no, you don't get it! It's so flashy it actually scares me! All that pomp and glamour! The rugs themselves look like something from the fall collection that sold out about twenty years ago and the chandeliers are bound to be at least four times Theo's salary! Walking through those hallways is like stepping on opulence! A continuous loop of flashiness!

Ace: HEY! Get a hold of yourself! Let's go over to- Ah, Scarabia...

Kore: It's so hot there!!

Ace: Oh, yeah, you're super weak to heat so you'd definitely hate it there. Right?

Kore: Mm, hate is... I think that if it was the old me, I would never have even stepped in there. But now I feel like... Yeah! I definitely think that I can give it another try! Scarabia is pretty rich too, but it feels more homely? There's a lot of people gathered around and there are banquets and feasts pretty often too. It's always lively and warm... In a way, I imagine that's what a home would feel like...

Ace: ...

Kore: I can't say the same for Octavinelle however. Hmph!

Ace: Bwahaha, that's true. It really feels like you'd get scammed in there pretty quick.

Kore: Not even that! But building a dorm underwater? I admit the decor is pretty nice and classy, but the atmosphere is too cold! There's a lot of types that I can't get along with at all so it would definitely be a miserable time for me. No, I definitely don't want to set foot there ever again!

Ace: I totally get it~ All that commotion after the exams was enough for me too. Guess the same goes for Savanaclaw too, then?

Kore: ...

Ace: HA?!

Kore: I-I refuse to believe that anybody who loves Magift is a bad person!

Ace: There's that meathead in you talking again! Are you seriously that obsessed with it?! I feel like there's a sickness that applies in this case!!

Kore: He-Hey!! That's way too- I understand that what they did was bad, and I definitely haven't forgiven Kingscholar-senpai yet, but there are definitely good points to them as well! I think!

Ace: So you're not even sure?!

Kore: A-Anyway, as for Heartslaybyul-

Ace: Don't go changing the subject!

Kore: - if I had to pick that would be my favourite.

Ace: Huh?

Kore: I love Scarabia too, a lot, but at the end of the day all that rich atmosphere is scary. I really don't feel like I would belong there at all. I'd stick out like a sore thumb among everybody else - more than usual at the very least. But in Heartslaybyul, even if Rosehearts-senpai is strict, I feel like everybody is sort of content with the oddness. There's not much that stands out about it, but I think that's what makes it so appealing, you know?

Ace: ... So... what you're saying... Is that we're a shabby dorm full of weirdoes?

Kore: I-I wouldn't go that far...

Ace: But that's the gist of it, isn't it?!

Kore: Ummmmm...

Ace: ... Alright, I get it.

Kore: Huh?

Ace: You know, it just so happens that there's one more thing I have to tell you about.

Kore: One more thing?

Ace: Yup! You see, there's this tradition where the presenter has to give the 'gift of fortune' in order to make sure this ends up being a great birthday! And it just so happens that you're lucky enough to have me here today to deliver the goods~

Kore: Huh? What are you-

[SPLATTER]

Kore: ...

Ace: BWAHAHA, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST STOOD THERE LIKE THAT!

Kore: ...

Ace: Oh man, the look on your face is hilarious! Oh, let me take a quick picture to show the others too!

Kore: ...

Ace: Ok, so then- He-Hey! Don't- AUGH! MY FOREHEAD!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #kore hightower #twist oc #twist #twisute oc #twisute #ace trappola #heartslaybyul #birthday event

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cyro-starfire · 4 years ago

Text

What hurts to talk about...

Cyro X Minus!Lemon Monster hurt/comfort fic

Once again i will be tagging @monsternightfunkin because their blog gives me insperation to write

⚠️WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC:⚠️ OC X CANON, ABUSE MENTION, NIGHTMARE, TRAUMA, SLIGHT SELF HARM (Hitting head), CRINGE

Colors for characters

Cyro - Pink

Minus - Orange

Please enjoy my horrid writing if you can!

It was late into the night, probably around 11 PM or 12 AM. Minus had been put in charge in taking care of Cy, despite Girlfriend and Pico being reluctant in letting him. The others knew Minus was strong enough to protect Cy if any danger were to come into the house. Cyro was sleeping on their bed while Minus slept on the floor, the alien had insisted that Minus should sleep on their bed but he declined, he was worried that with his weight he'd crush the bed, besides their rug wasn't too bad to sleep on, it was soft and fuzzy like him!

Cyro had been very reluctant on letting Minus sleep on the floor because it just didn't feel all to right but they really couldn't say no to him, so they let him sleep on their rug anyway. Despite it being the floor, Minus was catching some good Z's, having a pretty good dream! Cyro on the other hand...was having the opposite experience...

The poor alien was having terrible nightmares for the past week...and they were all about HER...Cyro's abusive ex girlfriend, Sam. It had been over 3 years since Cyro had broken up with her, but the scars from her abuse still remained within Cyro's mind...the horrible things she would say to them...the horrible things she would do to them...it would give Cyro horrible visions and make them go into a traumatic episode if they ever saw anything that reminded them of Sam...

The alien whimpered and whined softly, untill those whimpers got louder...and louder, their body was shaking madly, tears formed in their shut eyes, they could feel her disgusting hands on their body despite her not being there...they could hear her terrible voice, mocking them, laughing at them. Reminding them that they were nothing but a pathetic little alien...

"n-no...no...no no no no no...NONONONOO!!!" They screamed in horror and agony as they choked on tears and awoke from their horror filled dream...panting heavily as they looked around the room. They took a moment to let the cool night air fill their burning, aching lungs...their body was covered in sweat, and tears filled their eyes...they held their pillow tightly and sobbed into it. "Wh-Why...why c-can't y-y-you just leave m-me alone...p-please...g-get out of m-my head..." They whimpered, they wanted to forget Sam and the hell she put Cy through whilst in the relationship with her...

Cyro took their hands off of their pillow and started to hit their temples with their hands. "G-Get out...get out...get out, get out, GET OUT GET OUT!!" They screamed in what at first was fear but then it turned into rage...rage for what she had done to them, and rage for her not getting any karma for it, it aggravated Cy, why did they have to suffer while Sam gets off Scott free? It wasn't fair...why was life cruel like this? What did they do to deserve this?

They were interrupted by a big claw gently grabbing their left hand and stopping that hand from landing blows on their own head. They looked quickly at who had did it, but quietly sighed in relief when they saw that it was just Minus. "Why are you hitting your head? Your head didn't do anything bad did it?" The huge lemon monster yawned. "Don't hurt yourself like that, it's bad." He whined at Cy groggily. "O-Oh, s-s-sorry i w-w-woke you M-Minus, th-there was j-just...a-a fly on my h-head that's all!" Cyro tried to lie.

"I love you but please don't fib to me like that." Minus whimpered in typical dog fashion. "Why were you hitting your head, and screaming 'get out' for?" He asked them again...Cyro looked at Minus...they were hesitant to tell him...They didn't wanna worry him about what had been going on for the past week...would he even understand the gravity of the situation...? Sure he was abused like them but...it was a different kind of abuse...right...? "I...i..." Cyro tried to come up with a good excuse but nothing came to them...

They really had no other option did they? The alien sighed gently and finally gave up. "F-Fine, I'll...i-i'll tell y-you what's going on..." They admitted hesitantly. Minus gently put a claw on their bed to let them know that Cy had his full attention for this time..."I-I've...b-b-been having a-alot of nightmares a-about m-my ex girlfriend, S-Sam recently...a-about how she w-would abuse and manipulate m-me...i t-tried to see wh-what i could do t-to make them go away, b-but they s-still haven't stopped and i...i..." They started to tear up again. "I-I just w-want to forget a-about her s-so b-badly Minus...b-but...i-i don't kn-know if i can..." They said sniffling.

It wasn't before long until they finally broke down in front of minus, holding in any and all tears backfired badly for them, they sobbed and grabbed their pillow again, sobbing into it and apologizing to him that he's now seeing this side of them...he must think their pathetic now...however for Minus...seeing Cyro like this reminded him of himself when he was younger, and those monster hunters would torment him day and night...The lemon monster got up and gently picked up Cy, who was still clinging onto their pillow tightly, still saying "I'm sorry" in short chokes of tears.

"Hey...please don't cry, i don't like it when your in pain..." Minus said to Cyro softly, lifting up their chin gently with his claw. "i-i-i-i'm s-s-s-sorry...i-i-i-i'm s-s-so s-sorry..." They hiccuped, they couldn't stop feeling like it was their fault, maybe they did deserve to get abused, maybe they did deserve to be mentally damaged forever...maybe- all of their thoughts were interrupted by Minus giving them a small, soft lick on the cheek. "H-Huh?" Cyro held their cheek confused. "I don't know who hurt you, how and why but i do know your in pain, and you don't deserve to be in pain..." Minus said to Cyro in almost a hushed whisper, holding them closely to his chest.

There was a brief silence between the two, before Minus broke it again "I'm here for you, i will protect you, everything will be okay, i love you..." He whispered to them, their sobs and sniffles slowly grew quiet as their tears eventually stopped, they were still shaking slightly but not as bad as before...they leaned into Minu's chest and took a moment to embrace how warm he was...how fluffy he was...how safe they were with him..."th-thank you..." Cyro purred softly, as they snuggled into him...the two had a moment of comfortable and safe silence with one another...it was nice. Maybe this is what Cy deserved...healing...saftey...love...

And Minus was there to give it to them. Minus slowly curled up with Cy in their arms, making sure they were comfortable, and the two fell asleep together...

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cottoncandyjester · 5 years ago

Text

Yan oc squad when jealous

Okay so I'm currently working on backstory posts for all the boys as well as kinkmas stuff so til those come out enjoy random quick headcanons about the boys or any request people want to give about..well anything

Theodore

He hates getting jealous

It's a bad feeling

When he sees you smiling and laughing cause of someone else a dark feeling fills him

He can't help but think of horrible thoughts like you finding someone else

These feelings control him and cause him to do foolish things or things he would seem as idiotic

If you're talking to someone he will quickly come to you and hold you simply staring

He is far too much of a gentleman to make a scene

He shouldn't be so jealous but as he watched you giggle with an old a friend during what was supposed to be a coffee date, he gripped his cup as he felt like some sort of third wheel. Everytime he would try to interrupt you he was cut off by your friend and their obnoxious talking

Soon fed up with it he stood up now grabbing your arm feeling you tense lightly, he simply flashed a sweet smile now holding your hand

"I'm sorry to interrupt this conversation but we really must go, right sweetie?"

Before you could speak the male was pulling you out the cafe and towards the car, his grip on you firm as his sweet smile turned to a friend now glancing over at you

"don't talk to that person ever again, she is bad for you okay?"

"I'm an adult I ca-"

Theodore pulled you roughly infront if him his eyes wild with rage but he simmered down now smiling as he reached out and placed a hand on your cheek

"what did we talk about hmm? You make bad judgements, you're too sweet and kind and everyone will take advantage of that..so trust me when i say they are bad okay?"

You gulped and gave a small nod, you did trust him since he always knew best but he still scared you. You had no choice but to agree and as the two of you went home you could feel the tense jealously coming off him..he truly wanted you to himself

Hikaru

Is a very very jealous person

He had a photoshoot in korea and of course he had to take you along for the ride

It was a lovely vacation

During the shoot his photographer would ask you questions

His photographer seemed to like you

And hikaru did not like that

Of course hikaru kept his cool but after a while he got fed up

He sent you back to the hotel so he can deal with this

After getting very violent he comes back blood soaked and takes his anger out on you

Hikaru has been gone for hours but you figured nothing of it, maybe photoshoots take a long long time. You sat on the hotel bed scrolling through your phone before you heard a click and the door opened

You rushed to greet your boyfriend only to see him covered in blood now using a cloth to wipe his face, his eyes still dangerous and wild. When his blue eyes landed on you a chill went down your spine before he reached out and gripped your wrist

"it's your damn fault y'know? Its cause people think your so fucking attractive. I'm all dirty cause of you, damn pig."

As hikaru now squeezed your wrist panic set in as you tried to pry him off of you and maybe calm him down before he get any more angrier

"b-babe I didn't know this would happen and plus, you know I love only you"

Your stumbling and stuttering only seemed to make him more pissed as he now yanked you to the bed before pushing you down now throwing his coat off and eyeing you with utter disgust

"then fucking prove it, prove that my piggy only loves me and maybe I won't be so mean anymore kay?"

Prince

Instantly gets into a fight

Just no questions asked gets into a fight

You two were just walking around the park with his dog, queen

Prince let you alone for a single minute just to grab some food

Did not take long for some Chad to get to chatting with you

Queen was not happy

And when prince came back he was not happy either

So he got into a fight

You scolded him while you were patching him up

"prince.."

"yeah my beautiful and amazing love who I adore everyday?"

You shot the male a glare as he lit a cigarette before taking a smoke, he clearly did not like upsetting you and was definitely stressed

"as much as I love your protectiveness, getting into fights isn't a good thing"

"I can't let someone steal ya away from me baby, just won't allow it"

You shake your head as you put the last band-aid on before feeling something crawl into your lap, you stare at the Pitbull who laid her head in your lap

"-and you! You were supposed to protect her queen! At least bite the son of a bitch or something!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the male's antics, you didnt really see much of the fight since prince told you to wait in the car but you figured the guy was fine

Prince on the other hand simply smiled as he though about how he took care of the situation, queen was such a good dog though he hoped that eating that bastard wouldn't make her sick.

Yuki

Also gets into a fight

You both were at a cat cafe enjoying your time

Yuki fell asleep..no surprise there

You knew he was tired so you let him nap while you played with the cats and ate more yummy snacks

Yuki did say you can order as much as you want and anything you want..

When a worker came to the table and saw yuki sleeping he decided to shoot his shot

Did not take long for your green haired boyfriend to wake up after hearing awkward laughing coming from you

One violent fight later and you two were home while you patched yuki up

He only responds in pouty grumbles and grunts cause you scolded him

Gives you the cold shoulder

But he can't stay mad at you

"yuki, stop being a baby"

"...."

"yuki, look at me"

With still no response you groaned lowly now sliding into the male's lap and seeing him tense up lightly but he simply turned his head away from you with a scowl as he tried not to give in, he was angry that you weren't taking his side on this

Someone tried to steal you away and he protected you! Yet you scold him and tell him not to do it again?! He doesn't get it at all

"yuki narukami you look at me!"

He jolted at the use of his full name and he looked at you with a shocked expression before you squished his face together causing him to get even more confused

"you were going to kill him if you kept punching him, that's why i was mad. Thank you for protecting me though I love you and it's sweet"

Yuki paused before simply wrapping his arms around you giving a low grunt now nuzzling his face in your neck as a dark Expression pooled his eyes.

So, protecting you is fine but he has to make sure he can't kill infront of you? Good to know. As yuki held you in his arms he couldn't help but smile

You were so interesting to him.

Axis

It's always the baby types you have to watch out for

You both were at a new amusement park that opened up a few weeks ago

You two were having fun

But after two big drinks axis had to pee while you both were waiting in line for a ride

He told you to hold the spot

You were of course worried your blind boyfriend is going to find a boyfriend on a crowded area but he reassured you that he will be fine

You let him go and It didn't take long for someone to come up to you and try flirt

When axis came back

He tried to play tough guy

But being 5'4" has its downfalls..

Axis was getting tunnel vision, they were laughing at him..he claimed to be your boyfriend and they called him a kid, how can he protect you if he can't even protect himself..how?!

"leave him alone! He's my boyfriend so just go away!"

You had to step in, it was embarrassing. Axis felt you grip his hand tightly now feeling nothing but anger and jealously bubble within him even as the situation diffused he thought about it

Did..you take him seriously?

"[y/n], am I hot?"

The question made you jolt and you looked at him with a choked laugh. You laugh only made him more upset but he tried to remain calm

"am I hot? Yknow like sexy and everything like that?"

"ax, you're adorable! So cute! I mean you were pouting when those jerks were talking to me and it was just so cute!"

Cute...? Cute..?!

He snapped and hugged you close, his face mask had a zipper and you never did know what the purpose of that was but next thing you knew you felt a sharp pain on your neck along with something trickling down your shoulder

You winced in pain now trying to pull the male off but with no progress, when he did pull back he had blood all around his mouth

"treat me more seriously, you're mine. I won't let anyone else take you, come on let's go home..I'm not done marking you up"

A sense of fear hit you and you never felt this before, axis has always been your adorable boyfriend but this..was new.

Axis Definitely show you just how much he owned you when you two got home and it was something you definitely never forgot.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yandere ocs #oc imagines #oc x reader #yandere headcanons

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moonlightflower21 · 5 years ago

Text

Sometimes people aren't meant to be in relationships...

"We need to talk..." The deep voice of your mutant turtle boyfriend filled the room and you turned towards the window, a neutral expression on your face. As bad as it was, he was the last person you wanted to end the night with. Lately everything had been different. Your interaction with him depended on the entirety of his mood. He deemed he was too busy for you but you had drop everything just to be there for him? This wasn't how relationships worked. Granted, this was his first hur even after trying to talk to him, he was the equivalent of a brick wall. Just go through one ear and out the other.

"What?" You answered, sitting down on your bed. A fluffy blanket draped your legs, tiredness crawling in your veins. Hopefully he would go soon, for you really couldn't be asked for his bullshit.

"You haven't called in days, what's going on??" He asked, leaning against the wall with an accusing brow. Yours were now raised, wondering if he was actually being serious. Oh, so now he cared??

"What does it look like?? I'm in bed. And I didn't call because I simply didn't want to. I am not obliged to talk to you everyday especially if you cannot be bothered to put in the effort either" Your fingers gripped the blanket tightly, hoping he was able to pick up on the signs and leave. But he didn't, of course he wouldn't.

"It's like I don't know who you are anymore. You suddenly seem to busy to do anything with me. And when I ask, you leave promptly. How can I put in effort when you can't even be around me anymore!" He snapped, you could practically see the steam coming from his ears. But anger bubbled in your stomach and you stood, ripping the blanket off and throwing it away from you. Any and all signs of tiredness and exhaustion flew out of your body and rage filled the spot instead.

"Who the fuck do you think you are??? Walzing into my bedroom, accusing me of absurd things! Why should I even make the effort?? Everything is always about you! All our talks, all our interactions. When was the last time you've asked me if I was okay?? I'm just a thing you like having on your elbow, something to show off to your brothers but you know what?? I can't do it! I don't give a fucking damn if you're upset because you've made me feel like shit for months! But have I ever made you feel bad about it??" You yelled, watching his figure stiffen and clench at the tone of your voice. You've never raised your voice at him like this before.

But he wasn't a child, he was a full grown adult that had to understand that life isn't easy. Everyone has problems and issues and he isn't the one in the entire world that has it hard.

"And while we're at it, your number one excuse is always your ninjitsu responsibilities and I understand. Believe me, if I didn't I would've left months ago. But suddenly it's my fault these people don't appreciate the work you do for them! Am I supposed to go to every resident in the city and praise you??"

"That's quite enough, Y/N!-" He started but you stopped him there. He wanted to open the bottle of faults and blame, you sure as hell were going to make him understand it was a two way situation.

"Be quiet. I'm not done" You seethed, fists clenched so tightly you were sure your fingernails had penetrated the first layer of your skin. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, your entire body felt hot. Anger, disappointment, bitterness, pain, everything swirled in your head and poured out of your mouth.

"You don't know HALF the shit I'm going through. You obviously don't care so please, tell me what the fuck is this relationship?? For you to dump all your problems on me?? As a partner, I will listen and console you when needed. But I draw the line now, I am not your therapist. You don't bother listening to me, so now it's the same. I don't care what happens to you, Leonardo" Hands raised in surrender, you step back maintaining the eye contact. You heard a soft gasp coming from him as you spilled your true feelings but you couldn't care less. Actually it felt refreshing to say everything that was weighing you down, able to finally fucking breathe.

"What are you saying?" He whispered, voice hoarse. Pins felt like they flooded his throat, following all the way down to his chest. Puncturing his heart. As if everything was on a standstill, the words fell from your lips slowly. And yet, he couldn't do anything to stop them.

"Isn't it obvious? I can't do this anymore. Mentally and physically. I can't be the person you want me to be. And clearly you're not happy with who I am-"

"I am! God, Y/N, I love you for who you are-"

"No you don't. Like I said, you fell in love with the idea of having a partner. But you don't love me for who I am. You want me to be someone who benefits you and you only. I just.... I can't do it" You laughed, however he knew there was anything but humour in your tone.

It hurt you to say the next words but you know he has to hear them, in order for you both to move on. You wouldn't have ever thought you could say it to his face but boy, life sure works in crazy ways.

"Leonardo, I just.... I don't love you" You utter calmly, glancing at those stormy irises. You know he won't break down in front of you but you can sense his sadness from here. It made you feel weird, you weren't ever the cause for his grief.

Leo didn't think he heard you correctly, expecting you to break out in a smile and yell it's all a joke. But your face spoke otherwise. Hands folded, stance rigid, he knew you meant business.

"So this how it's going to end? When... when did this happen?" He sniffs, both eye brows raised trying his ultimate best to not cry in front of you. You knew what he was referring to but was it ever acceptable to tell a partner when you fell out of love with him? It would be too much for him to handle.

"I don't know-" "Tell me" He commands, his stature matching yours and you shrug your shoulders. Fine, you had warned him. See if he can handle the cold truth.

"Around two weeks ago. I realised that this relationship... well, I've already told you" You eye his features. Though he seems unfazed, his eyes tell a different story.

"Okay..." He brushed a hot tear away, knowing it was only going to be the first of many to arrive. His heart pained immensely, as though someone had a tight grip around it. Slowly but surely breaking piece by piece.

"I'm sorry... for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you needed. And I'm so sorry for ever treating you like you didn't matter" He turned to look at you, his sapphire eyes shining with the unshed tears. It just twisted the knife that was in your heart. The tears shouldn't be there, he shouldn't have to feel like this. Your arms pitched with the urge to hold him, pretend that it was all going to be okay. Because even if he put you through hell, you still loved him. And that was what you hated the most. Even after everything, why did your heart still beat for him?

"Just close the window when you leave" You turn away, picking up the tossed blanket on the floor. He nods, taking a deep breath. Feeling another hot tear leave his eyes unwillingly, he obliged. He didn't know what he had expected anyway. You to wipe his tear and kiss away his pain? In another world perhaps, but here? Only a turmoil of pain and he was right in the centre. Quietly, the window gently closed as he vanished in the night.

You had taken a deep breath but your lungs felt empty. Heart heavy, body numb, the pain you tried to keep in all night dripped down your cheeks. Continuous hot tears rolled down and you hadn't the energy to wipe them away. And funnily enough, through this you could feel your heart slowly being relieved. Slowly being let out of the shackles it once was pinned in.

Leo didn't know where he was going, anywhere but his home. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, the tears blurred his vision. Stinging his eyes, burning his cheeks but they were unstoppable. Hearing a loud roll of thunder in the distance, he knew he should have gone home. But he wasn't able to face his family. What a horrible day.

One minute he was on the ledge and the next he felt himself toppling off the edge. Through his heartbreak, he must've miscalculated a step and toppled down the long building. His body banged into the walls, scratched roughly by the bricks until he was thrown into the ground with a loud bang. He was so lucky it wasn't packed and crowded.

Surrounding by the bin bags, drenched with rain, he couldn't hold it in anymore. A shaky cry overcame his body, heavy sobs racking his entire body. He felt like he couldn't breathe, hands trembling trying to console himself. The cries felt like they came from his very soul, gasping for air that never reached his chest. Everything hurt around him. And as if the sky was in agreement, the drizzle of rain became heavy; drenching his very core.

His calf burned, excruciating pain shot up his leg if he added the slightest bit of pressure. Skin was torn from his shoulders and his head felt like it had been punched several times relentlessly.

The rain washed his body, stinging his wounds and carrying the blood away. He heard his phone go off but he hadn't the courage to answer it just yet. He needed help but he couldn't bear to look at anyone. He was where he belonged, with the trash and the dirt. He deserved the hate from other people. He deserved your anger. If only he was able to truly see how you were, maybe this could have been prevented.

Some people didn't deserve love, maybe he was one of them.

No, he was one of those people.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fanfic #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader angst #tmnt x reader sad angst #tmnt x reader angst #tmnt x reader sad

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vivirrins · 4 years ago

Note

Pidge 🍁🌼

Peachpetal ✨️

Birchfang ☀️

Ponytrot 🌈☁️🌲(if any lol)

Thunderheart 🌈

Antlerblaze ✨️ (I know you don't know him well, thats why first impressions lol)

Littlepaw ☘️🌲(what kinda person you think should be her partner since there's basically no one in her age range)

And for others...

Heronpaw ✨️

Railspur ❄️

Orchidfrost 🍁

Tav you are lucky we are friends I'm putting this under a readmore for everyone's sanity.

Pigeonpaw- OKAY OKAY OKAY SO first off my favourite moment with Pigeonpaw...you already know what I'm going to say one of them is her talk with Railspur BUT I have different reasons for her than I did for him. With Railspur it felt like I finally got a solid grasp on him as a character. With Pigeonpaw, meanwhile...I can't say I knew your intent with her starting off but it felt like that set her on a wildly different trajectory. Or maybe it just set one in stone for her. Pigeonpaw's particular rebellious streak stems from synthesizing the conflicting sides of the war that ultimately bore her and I think the conclusion she's come to is that it's just all absurd.

Another one I like is her fight with Sandpaw. I think their dynamic is fascinating especially in that scene. You can REALLY see Duskwatcher in both of them imo between Pigeonpaw's stubbornness and Sandpaw's eventual lashing out. Pigeonpaw also seems like the type to, like her father, carry her scars with pride. I really wish I could have been there to see the Russetlings' return to BriarClan...between Pidge's scars, Squirrel's paint and Dawn's stubborn refusal to even be there I imagine their return was...frought.

As for a NAME...I think "pretty" names like Pigeonfeather or Pigeonflight are ill-fitting, first off. I like the idea of her getting a really Canyon-sounding name, unlikely as it might be. Pigeonshale after Shalespots would be ;; I'd say name her after her father but my working headcanon name for Dawnpaw is Dawnfall because uncreative gfjdg but Pigeondusk is rlly cool...maybe Pigeonstorm I always endorse storm as a suffix.

Peachpetal- You sent me Cersei Lannister gifs when you were telling me about her what else am I gonna say bghfdghxsdok n all honesty I love her design and I love her HORRIBLE personality. StormClan really needed just some mean nasty motherfuckers and I think Peachpetal and Frostbite together more than meet that quota. I would LOVE to see them hanging out or working together...supermodels who don't care about you. Amazing.

Birchfang- I wanna see her explore a friendship with someone from another clan! I wonder if she and Sunstorm would get along. They feel like they're on the same wavelength and it intrigues me...

Ponytrot- Sometimes I wonder if Ponytrot thinks about Wolfmask, considering his relationship with Muleheart. Does she wonder if he's okay? Does she resent him? Has she elected to simply ignore his existence? I'd love to watch a conversation between them go down...

I ALSO want to know what she thinks of the Russetlings having been trained in CanyonClan and coming back to BriarClan pissed off that they had to leave their "REAL home". What does she think about known warcrime co-conspirator Railspur having the gall to lecture about two-sided wars. She knew Rainfoot's uncle Waterstrider & Thunderheart's mother Fallowthroat, and Railspur was the cat that killed them both in a blind rage. How does she feel about two of the apprentices being trained by Craneflight and Sedgeclaw- cats that AspenClan once met in battle, with the blood of old friends & family on their claws? Has she really moved on to the peace BriarClan claims to uphold, or is she is her heart still full of hate?

For an alternate clan, hmm...I'm going to say I wanna know what would've happened if Pony was a CanyonClan woman :O I still think her momness would be there, and in very similar ways because I think deep down she's still an Aspen cat and not a Briar one. But I think Canyon!Pony would eventually become tired of this entire charade and leave CanyonClan behind, taking Muleheart with her...maybe becoming Creek!Pony instead.

Thunderheart- I can put my ear up to his and hear the ocean it's incredible. I love Thunderheart I love his wife and I kinda just want to hang out with him sometime...I think he and Rocky would be funny idiot friends. I want to just see more Thunderheart in general, dude, bring him to the border so he can talk at me about his wife!!!

Antlerblaze- THAT'S AN ENTIRE FATHER!!!!!!!!! Antlerblaze has the energy of a CanyonClan Sad Dad even though he seems so good-natured...does he have tears behind those eyes? Or is his heart simply fulla Lovemywife Juice?

Littlepaw- I keep thinking Little and Ashen should be friends!!! I also think she would try to fight any other apprentice she sees and I cannot WAIT for her to meet the other clans' new apprentices. I think she, Fig, Calamity and Mephisto are gonna be thick as thieves eventually!!! Bring BestieClan to the Mire I dare you

I feel like when she's older Littlepaw is going to need either someone more chill than her...or someone just as Rockstar Energy Drink to make her worse. No in-between.

Heronpaw- A tiny little woman I don't get to see often! A rare treat!!! I think it's so funny that while Sandpaw and Jaypaw are two very different flavours of MESS, Heronpaw is just trying to stay in her goddamn lane and do her best. See how good you look when you stay in your lane, Sandpaw? I want to know more about her and Ravinewing both tbh I don't get to see them often...

Railspur- "The world lost its wonder for me a long time ago. That happens to many cats. You get older. The world takes things from you. And you can't fill that hole again, it's just not possible. So you take things from the world."

Orchidfrost- I think her and Snailskip have just the funniest dynamic so so far my favourite moment of hers has been after she was elected to CanyonClan's council and Snail was cheering her on.

"I can't wait to boss everyone around and force them to bow to my bidding. I'll be the Machiavellian super villain the canyons' deserve. May the other Clans quiver with fear and desire before my power. All hail Orchidfrost, CanyonClan's top politician." is just the funniest line I love this woman so much

#tavernlights-casual #oc #railspur

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one-leaf-grimoire · 5 years ago

Text

“triad”

Chapter 5

I don’t really have an introduction for this, but I really like how this chapter ends :D

It's dark...

I blink my eyes and realize that there is light, but it's blocked out, like the sun blocked by the moon during an eclipse. The darkness is cold, and empty, just like the growing void inside me.

The sun... I need it... I need him...

Squinting my eyes, I finally see what's blocking the sun: It's a human silhouette, facing away towards the light. Their body is amorphous, hidden by a flowing robe and their shoulders garnished with a thick, furry trim. The sight sends a chill through my body, stoking the flames of the most dangerous thing I could possess right now:

hope.

"...Julius?"

Despite the fact that this silent, still person does not turn around at the sound of my voice, I move. I move like a moth drawn to flames, like a magnet drawn to it's opposite. For the first time in days, the fire of hope in my belly bursts to life at the mere chance of being reunited with him... the north to my south, the sun to my moon, the day to my night-

There's nothing more that I want than to see him again. To feel... whole again.

"Julius!"

I grab his shoulder, but I'm not prepared for what I see when he turns around. Because- well- it's not him. It's...

"...me?"

Her face is just barely tinted by the dying light behind her. She looks sad... no, that's not it, is it? There's a weight in her eyes that hits me harder than I thought it would, a weight of things that I have not yet lived to see. There's guilt, confusion, grief, frustration...

Despite the look in her eyes, she's smiling. I'm smiling. The dissonance contained in her expression shocks me to my core, and I stumble back.

This... this is...

The image is immediately dashed from my mind as a door creaks and I jump slightly in my chair. Yikes! I really just dozed off... I blink my eyes a few times to banish the groggy feeling within them, and see that no one has returned to the meeting room yet. I just saw William outside, so he must be avoiding me for a little while, so who-

"What did you tell him?"

I quickly turn to my right to see Nozel standing there, staring down at me. The look in his eyes isn't his usual, cold stare... it's something almost worse. As soon as my eyes land on him, I feel it; the horrible, oppressive pressure that permeates the air around him, his mana and emotions mixing into something terrifying. Even I'm caught off guard by it this time, and it takes everything I have to keep a straight face and not slip down to hide under the table.

He's mad. Really fucking mad. And for the first time, it's truly directed at me.

"...tell who?"

Despite the whirlwind of cold emotion around him, Nozel's rage is only betrayed by a slight twitch of his face. "You know who. Now-" He sucks in a break through his nose. "Care to explain why Fuegoleon just came and told me he's voting for you?"

Oh shit...

"Huh? He is?" I feign ignorance and bat my eyelashes a few times innocently. "Well, I can't blame him-"

"Enough! What did you say to him?!" For the first time, Nozel actually raises his voice. I almost wince, and my hands grip the sides of my chair a little tighter. Jeez, I didn't mean for him to find out until the actual vote. I knew he might get angry about it, but right now- "This is why you called the recess, right? You wanted a chance to get him alone and- and-"

Finally, I decide to respond. "What exactly do you think I did to him, Nozel?" I ask, fighting to keep my voice from wavering. Today has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and it doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon. "He was the one who asked me why I wanted to be Wizard King... all I did was answer his question, and I guess it was enough to change his mind." An extreme simplification of our conversation, but true nonetheless.

Nozel stares at me suspiciously, his jaw visibly tightening for just a moment. "...I can't tell if you're lying or not. I've never been able to." He finally closes his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I can't believe this, though... just a few words, and you swayed him? Fuegoleon?"

"What? You don't believe me? Why didn't you just ask him?" I can't help but let my mouth twitch into a momentary smile.

"I did." Nozel averts his eyes from my face at the brief expression. "But he wouldn't tell me. Maybe he was-"

"Ashamed?" I let out a breath of laughter. "Do you really think I seduced him, Nozel? Fuegoleon's like a stone wall sometimes... he's not nearly as in touch with his romantic side, like..."

My words unexpectedly drop off at the realization of what I was about to say.

... don't think about it...

"That wasn't my plan." I clear my throat to continue. "I'm not the type to seduce someone... you know that, don't you, Nozel?"

"...I do."

His aura fades just a little bit. It slips.

We're both thinking of it now. The trial. Where my honor and title was stripped away, all because of a false accusation and an unjust world. It's my biggest regret, something that took years to crawl back from. But finally, here I am, with my title back, and the crown within my grasp. Nozel was there, at my trial... and when it mattered most, he defended me.

"Back then... you said I earned your respect, because I earned Fuegoleon's respect. You defended me when the whole world was ready to strike me down."

His brow furrows beneath his braid at the memory. "...I remember." His expression softens incrementally until he almost looks sad. "I did say that... but-"

"Then you know what you have to do today, right?"

Because, in the end, Nozel's reason for becoming Wizard King isn't to "become Wizard King." His reason was Fuegoleon. To fight, to compete, to find fulfillment in the ending, whatever it might be...

But now, the foundation is gone. Fuegoleon gave up.

So...

"Nozel."

He finally looks up to see me on my feet, my eyes staring resolutely into his.

"I'm the one who stood closest to Julius, so I'll be the one to take his place today."

He's slipping... further and further...

His cold aura is all but gone.

"Give up on your dream, and pledge yourself to me.

Nozel doesn't give me an answer. His eyes linger on mine for just a moment longer, the chill from his anger melting away. After that long, lingering look, he turns away, his robe sweeping around, and disappears through the door to leave me alone once again.

"Fuegoleon?"

As expected, my name leaves his lips. There's an audible yet soft gasp from some of the other captains, all turning to stare at him, stunned.

"L-Lord Fuegoleon-" Kaiser stutters, his voice weakened. "You can't possibly-"

"I've made my choice!" Fuegoleon doesn't dare look up from the surface of the table before him, almost looking like he's in pain. I can't even offer him a comforting smile; he won't look into my eyes. "Move on."

...I'm sorry. It hurts, I know... but I promise-

My hand forms a fist where it rests on my knee.

I won't let any of you down!

The muttering finally stops, and Marx takes a deep breath before marking down the vote and moving on. "...Nozel?"

He doesn't answer right away. Not even close to right away. He just... sits there, and thinks, staring blankly at the table.

Nobody dares to move. Nobody dares to breathe as the Eagle finally reaches the end of his thoughts.

"...I... I will trust you..."

Nozel's words barely pass his lips, and for a moment, I no longer see the royal, proud man that stood before me for years and years.

At long last... Nozel... I've defeated you.

"I'll trust you with our future." His eyes move, just a little, to glance at me one last time. "You have my vote."

The others don't react this time, as the full weight of this action sinks in slowly but surely.

And then...

"Yami."

"Voting for Forehead girl. Again."

"Please! Proper names!!!" Marx sighs and writes down the selection, his hands shaking slightly as he does so. I glance up at him and offer him a little smile, which he thankfully reciprocates, and the strength returns to his voice as he speaks again. "Dorothy?"

Dorothy shakes her head for just a second, but then smiles brightly. "Well, my candidate just jumped ship, I better do so as well!" She winks over at me. "You're a bit young to be Wizard King, don't you think?"

"Huh? I'm twenty-six!"

"OH! Nearly as old as I am..." Dorothy can't help but let out a giggle. "Fine then. You have my vote."

I grin back at her before Marx moves on. "Kaiser?"

"I haven't changed my mind... Fuegoleon." Kaiser crosses his arms, frowning at the table. Eek... he didn't get swayed, then... I have four votes now! My heart starts to beat more violently in my chest as I start to realize how close I am. That means... my last bet...

I turn to look at William as all eyes turn to him.

"...I'll vote for you as well."

Despite his being my fifth vote, officially putting me over the threshold Julius spelled out in his will, I can't feel any joy.

William...

I tricked him. I lied. I've already forgiven him, but I can't give it to him until I know I won't need to use it any more. Like today... because of him, my goal has been achieved.

I'm sorry.

And finally, even though there's no reason to, Marx moves through the rest of the votes. The only other person to vote for Fuegoleon is Rill, who I think is just confused and unsure of what to do, but all the others vote for me. "The final results..." Marx quickly tallies them up, then turns the paper for us all to see.

"Nozel: 0. Fuegoleon: 2. Which means..."

Seven votes. More than enough.

I don't expect there to be a happy reaction, but to my surprise, the captains all let out a collective sigh of relief. I blink, a little confused, then look at Fuegoleon when he says my name. He's smiling a little, even though he still looks a bit disappointed. "Well... I'm glad it's over. Thank you for organizing this... your majesty."

Your majesty.

The gravity of the situation finally registers, and I can't help but let my eyes widen as, one after another, the captains start talking, offering me comforting smiles, proud smiles, relieved smiles. Even Kaiser and Rill, the ones who still voted against me and look a bit sheepish, are smiling. "I'm sure you're going to be great... you're right, we all respect you a great deal," the older man tells me with a smile beneath his extravagant mustache. "You were one of the people Lord Julius picked, after all."

"I agree." Even Nozel looks... content. "He kept you by his side for a reason... you were the person who stood closest to him. Perhaps this is where you belong."

I feel my heart swell slightly at the praise, their smiles and words encouraging me further, the truth that this is real singing through it all.

I...

"I promise..."

I stand up, glancing at Marx one last time. He offers me an encouraging smile, spurring me on with confidence.

"I'll be the best you could ever ask for."

Here I am, a commoner, a foreigner, a girl who's journey far outstretches the length of her life, standing before them as their leader. These nine people, who I hold in the highest echelons of respect, have chosen me. Maybe they needed a push in the right direction, but in the end...

I stand here... in his shoes.

"Thank you... together, we will-"

Before I can finish my sentence, the door bursts open and two people run in. I instantly recognize them.

"What the Hell are you two doing here?!?" Yami roars, his seat scraping slightly as he jumps to his feet. "Noelle- Finral- can't you see we're in the middle of an important meeting?!"

Sure enough, Noelle and Finral from the Black Bulls both stand there, out of breath. Noelle's eyes dart around, widening slightly when she realizes that something important is going on. Her eyes linger on me, a flicker of understanding within them. She's one of the few people who know that Julius is dead, since she was there outside the Shadow Palace as the reincarnation curse was dispelled, so she might have realized why we were gathered here.

"I'm sorry, Captain! But it's an emergency!" Finral frantically explains. "You see- we were in town handing out food, and then someone from the Parliament came by and took Asta and Nero away for an interview! They haven't come back!"

Parliament!? That catches everyone's attentions, and Yami's eyes widen. There's been rumblings over the past few days about some sort of retaliation against the "perpetrators" of the whole catastrophe, even though the Devil is dead already. This would either be aimed against Asta or the possessed knights, the latter of which included myself, but I assumed I would have time to settle into my role as Wizard King before any action was taken. Apparently I assumed wrong.

"Damnatio's probably behind this," Fuegoleon speaks up. "He would be the one to enact such a plan so quickly... Asta and- Nero are probably being held in prison or at the Parliament Tower."

Yami grits his teeth before turning towards the door. "That's all I need to hear, I'm going!"

"Wait! You can't just rush in there without a plan!" I quickly sidestep to block his path.

"Watch me!"

"Yami!" I scold, giving him a little glare which actually makes him pause for a moment. "They want to use Asta as a scapegoat because of his possessed Grimoire, right?" It's a quick and easy way to shift the blame and put the whole affair behind us, but it could also be a valuable tool... at least something that could extend Asta's life, as well as unearth some valuable information. "Is your squad nearby?"

Yami glances at Finral and Noelle, who give him a nod. "Alright... can you cause a scene and stall for time at the tower?"

At my words, Yami can't help but smirk. "You know I can, Queenie. Come on, you too!"

I roll my eyes at the nickname, watching as he and the others run off to find the rest of their squad. "Right... then the rest of you are dismissed. Except you two-" I turn and point at Fuegoleon and Nozel.

"Hmm? Why us?" Nozel asks curiously.

"You two are royals... we had to hide Julius's death from Augustus for a few days, so he wouldn't start involving ourselves in our affairs. But now that our decision has been made, he's going to find out... in just a couple minutes, actually. I'm going to need both of you to back me up."

"...I see. Right." Fuegoleon gives me a nod, standing up from his chair with Nozel as the others start to leave.

"Marx, get me a pen and some paper. Also, I need to change into some new clothes... can you write something down for me?"

I leave my instructions with the three of them before running to the next room, an empty sitting room, and finally stripping off my dirty Royal Knights robes. I wrinkle my nose a bit, since the last few days were sweaty and dirty, the long hours rubbing off onto the fabric. I start to fold them up to leave somewhere, but my hand brushes up against something and I freeze.

It's a green stain, streaked over where my knee was. A grass stain. I remember how I got it; the night before the operation, the night before everything went wrong, Julius and I sparred one last time, and I ended up on top of him, both knees mashed into the grass. We kissed... and laughed...

I wipe away the tears before they even appear.

Don't think about it.

Robotically, I pull on the new clothes Marx fetched for me. Tights, flats, a black shirt with fringe at the wrists and neck. The dress he picked out is similar to my usual choice, but a lot more casual, secured by a sash much like a bathrobe. It's comfy... very comfy. I look good in it, too, when I reach the mirror and start to brush my hair into a presentable style. Saida, the elf... I'm glad she didn't throw these away. I let one of my fingertips brush against the gold clover earrings that I always keep in my ears. Julius gave them to me, years ago, as a Three-Leaf-Day present.

"Hello? Oh, you're ready."

I turn to see Marx walk in and close the door behind me before turning to assess my appearance. "That's better! Those robes were starting to get a little stinky."

"Don't use the word stinky, please!" I tease, letting him approach me. "Is everything ready?"

"Yeah... the other two are waiting for you outside. But... first..." Marx draws in a stiff breath, as if he's holding back tears. "This is your debut after all... so you should wear this."

He finally holds up what he was carrying. It's Julius's gold chain, and hanging from it are his two medallions. An item I saw him wear almost every single day, like it was an extension of his body, of who he was.

"A physical reminder of your new status... we'll have a formal coronation later, of course, but for now, this will have to do."

Slowly, I nod, ignoring the sudden swell of pure... feeling that just appeared inside me at the mere sight of the chain. I remember so clearly how it felt. Whenever he hugged me tight, and I buried my face into the white fur of his robe, I could feel the metal cold against my skin. And sometimes, when he was getting undressed for the night, he would take it and put in on me for fun. "Look at you, a little Wizard King~"

Look at me now, Julius... I guess this is appropriate. I'm glad to have another thing to remember you by.

Slowly, I bend over slightly, and Marx takes the cue. With one movement, he puts the chain around my neck and lets go, letting it hang down on my chest. I straighten up, a little surprised at how heavy it feels today.

This weight... the weight I've taken on my own back. Will I be able to carry it alone?

When I look back at Marx, my eyes widen a bit when I see he's crying, not even resisting the tears that streak down his cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry-" Marx reaches up to wipe his face. "I just... always thought this would be a happy day. The day Julius stepped down and let you take his place. I wanted it to happen like that... not like... l-like this-"

He's cut off as I grab him into a tight hug, holding my best friend as close as I can. Marx buries his face in my shoulder and lets out a sob, his hands balling up the fabric of the back of my dress.

"It's okay... Marx..."

I finally pull back to look him in the eye, and he looks a bit shocked that I'm still holding it together.

Barely.

"Today... will be a happy day. Maybe not now, maybe not for years. But one day, we'll look back on it and laugh. I promise."

Finally, Marx's tears slow, and he cracks a smile as he gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Promise."

Minutes later, Fuegoleon summons the Fire Spirit, Salamander, and we zoom off towards the Parliament Tower. "Look, Yami's already there!"

"What on earth is that?" I frown a bit at the sight of some large, dark structure looming by the broken wall of the tower. It looks almost like the Black Bull's base, but I can't be sure. "Come on!" Fuegoleon steers his spirit down through the caved-in wall, and I spot Yami, standing in the middle of the room, his sword poised to strike a tall, dark haired man wearing an unattractive smock. Damnatio! Yami, don't kill him!

"Flame Magic: Blazing Spear!"

Immediately, two crackling rods of fire appear in my hands, and I jump off of Salamander. With just a muted cry, I fall gracefully to the floor, just in time to block Yami's blow. With a whoosh of wind, Nozel and Fuegoleon land behind me, separating Damnatio from any danger.

"That was close... you almost made this situation much worse!" I mutter to Yami, who just rolls his eyes and sheathes this sword.

"Took you long enough."

"That's Fuegoleon and Nozel! What are they doing here? And-"

Oh, That voice. I turn to look up at the surrounding balconies, where various nobles and royals are sitting to watch the trial. Right in the biggest box is none other than King Augustus Kira the 13th, also known as the bane of my existence. He's jumped out of his seat and is glaring down at us from over the banister. "What is the meaning of this!? And what are you doing here?"

"Sorry to burst in so suddenly! We needed to set the record straight!" I call back, summoning any ounce of confidence and poise within my body. This is okay... I can do this! I have the power now... I can do anything I want! "Fuegoleon, the scroll."

Fuegoleon nods and quickly opens the paper we carried here. "By order of the Wizard King, Asta is to be turned back over to the Black Bulls, who will be tasked with researching the Devils in this world, just like the Devil who was the center of this most recent attack."

Angry and confused mutters suddenly fill the hall, and Damnatio's eyes widen a bit. "The Wizard King?"

"Where is he?! Of course Julius would pull something like this! You!" Augustus points down at me accusingly with a fat finger. "Where's your husband!"

Husband...

It occurs to me that, years ago, in this very spot, Augustus stripped me of everything I had. My honor, my title, everything...

Julius came in just in time to save me. I was ready to accept my fate, because I thought that everything was ruined.

But it wasn't.

I felt less than human on that day. I was a traitor. I was... sterile. I could never give Julius the family I wanted. But, through some cruel twist of fate...

I am human. The life inside of me proves it. And today, I stand in the same spot I stood in my darkest hour. But now...

"Julius is dead."

Now that silences everyone. Augustus's eyes widen at the response he never expected to hear. His miserable lips flap once, twice, and a third time, never managing to form words.

"Dead..." Damnatio is the one who speaks, prompting whispers all around the tower. "Then... who authorized this order?"

"I did."

I give him one last smile before looking back at the King, high above me, shock and anger starting to cloud his eyes.

"I am the 29th Wizard King!"

#Triad #fic

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24hourdinerandotherhorrorstories · 5 years ago

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The Letter Forever Remembered

Dear (name is smudged out),

My story is an odd one. Most would even consider me the bad guy along with my family in my story. However, at the end of the day I'm so happy with my family and with the love of my many lives. Yes, you read that right, I have lived many lives with the same memories and the same needs as the one before. Always hopping into some sad little child corpse and taking it over. Never quite mentally growing, always flipping between childlike and forcing myself to be an adult without understanding what it really meant to be an adult. It never got easier and it's not something you can just get used to especially when your mind is mostly feral from isolation. My mind was broken after so many jumps between bodies and people rarely take in children that are damaged. Sometimes my adopted parents were human and feared me to a certain extent but many times after they were not and didn't fear me enough. However, they found me, the dark followers, they saw what I was and gave me a proper caregiver. I called her Mother, for she was the only one I ever considered true family.

Most humans around her couldn't understand why she would adopt and foster damaged children when she could have her own. But she always looked at us with happiness and pride. She told them we were children of her soul and called to her like no other, how could she deny that call? People would go quiet after that, mostly at how intense she was about us. She was patient with her broken children and we saw her as a divine being finally delivering us the peace we so desperately craved. We as her children could never quite figure out if she was human or something more, much like the dark followers that visited our home while we grew up. Growing up in such a dark home had it's terrifying moments. Even for one such as I, who had seen so much, was scare of some of the things I saw. I do not know how to begin this part of my story but I will try.

The one moment, the one special thing that always pushed me to live through all these horrible lives was her. I met her in my third...or was it fifth life and she was my everything. She was my soulmate, my twin flame, my sanity and the sweet love of my lives. Every life I met her, I would able to breath again. It was both a blessing so grand it brought me to tears but a curse so foul that physical torture would be better than the pain of seeing her die. She always dies before me in some horrific fashion. I would see the life leave her eyes as she told me she would find me again. She always did, no matter how much I hid, she would instantly grab me in a hug and happily say "where have you been hiding" before kissing me like she couldn't get enough of me. She never blamed me for her deaths, I sometimes wished she did. We both know our relationship was cursed to fall before her 30th year. Someone or something would tempt a friend or sibling into a jealous rage and they would kill her. It was just how it was, no matter how much we protected ourselves, she always died as blood would cover the ground while I wailed into an unseeing void. So it was a painful surprise when mom came in one day, with my love gripping her hand tightly. She looked so small then in her child body but her eyes shown with dark humor at her situation before she tackled me to the floor. Only words leaving her as we hugged were "going through puberty again and remembering, is going to suck".

Things were great at first. We did everything together and slowly relearned our love for each other from friendship to a romantic relationship. We got into a lot of mischief which led us into many punishments and awkward situations. Mother grin at every moment of it and was happy for us. I couldn't have loved my mother more in those moments. But something started hovering over us when we turn 21. Mother started getting more protective of us and my siblings. Mother's eldest children were always seen coming and going rapidly through the week. Some of her eldest children seemed to grow more and more vicious as they stole money from the house. The dark followers would yank them away from us when we would work outside in the garden, speaking in harsh voices as they went into the house. Mother's face was constantly forced into a frown as her eyes showed deep sadness and disappointment. It was odd to my slightly fractured mind how mother could raise such horrid people. But my soulmate always told me "you can't blame everything on the parent for how their child turns out, sometimes things are just outside of the parents control."

When we turned 30, my soulmate was brutally tortured and murder by some of Mother's eldest children. The pain of feeling her life slip away all over again was excruciating because she thought this was going to finally be our happy ending. She strokes my cheek as she choked on her blood, her body was carved up in symbols. The carvings were so deep that I could spot her bones underneath, not that she had much weight on her in that moment. Something in me broke completely at seeing her that way. I'm not proud of what I did but damn did i enjoy it. The dark followers and Mother brought them to me, passed out and threw them at my feet. I looked up in surprise mostly because these were her children. Mother gave me a dark look full of hatred as she said they weren't her children but they are your blessings. I didn't understand completely what she meant but I also didn't care.... I enjoyed smashing their heads under my foot, I enjoyed ripping each and every bone from their screaming bodies before looking into their eyes as they breath their last breath. I painted the walls in there blood as Mother watched with a sad smile. I destroyed them through the night as I couldn't be bother to shift back to my human form. At this point I was just a feral beast mourning their soulmate. I passed out as the sun greeted the day, in a pile of bodies and broken furniture.

I didn't talk for years after that day. I hid away with Mother, only working around the house but remaining unseen. I couldn't look my siblings in the eyes after everything even if they understood. They gave me the space I needed but always left me gifts or snack with little notes attached about how they were doing and how much they loved me. I cried so much those years, I couldn't even pull my self out of my isolation to greet my nieces and nephews. Everyday it took longer and longer to change into my human form and even harder to hold together. This time it felt like I lost far more than I ever imagined.

When I was 40, Mother said it was time to finally get my blessings. I still didn't know what she meant so I just shook my head and curls up in my bed and wrapped my wings around me. Mother wouldn't take no for an answer and lifted me out of my bed. I panicked because Mother was never forceful with me even after everything. I couldn't stop the panic attack that invade my mind and didn't hear my mother trying her hardest to calm me while I screamed then everything went black. I awoke in a soft bed with silk sheets, clothes set out to be worn and robes hanging behind the door. Mother was sitting in the chair near the bed I was in, her eyes were closed but she was not resting. I whimpered because I thought I was finally being punished for everything that happened but Mother just pulled me to my feet, told me to get cleaned up and dressed. I obediently did as I was told and even made sure to groom my damaged wings. Wings that I had to grow back after in a moment of weakness and too many bottles of the strongest alcohol I could find.

She put a blindfold over my eyes and held my furred hand as she led me around. I had no clue where I was or who was there, the scents were so new that it felt like the place popped up overnight. When we came to a stop, I tensed at the one familiar scent. I started crying, sobbing at what mother was doing to me. I couldn't understand why she was punishing me this way before gently hands removed my blindfold. I gave a shaky gasp at the sight before me. It was a my beautiful ethereal soulmate, the love of my many lives, right there in the flesh, with tears of happiness in her eyes. Her eyes are what threw me off, they were a misty green color which was a contrast to her deep brown almost black eyes of before. I flinched at the voice that spoke to everyone in the room. My soulmate held me close as the being spoke. The being was named by the dark followers as The Guardian. I thought it was a myth of some crazed but loving cult. I was terrifyingly wrong, this creature was all consume like the void given form. They spoke about my pain and how my family step in to bring me peace. They told me the woman at my side was my soulmate brought back from death through a union of souls. The union was so deep that no matter the situation neither will pass on until they chose to and that they will never feel the pain of heartbreak ever again. I though I would pass out at the amount of information being thrown at me by the being holding my future. I shakily asked what the catch was and they grinned back along with the woman and teen at their side. The smiles should have been horrifying but all I could do was calm down and give a small smile back.

After the events of that day and getting my love back, things have been great. I still have a lot of setbacks but The Guardian and Mother found me a great therapist who also happened to be the same breed of creature I am! I'm still growing as a person in many ways even if I feel older than the trees in my front yard. The pain still comes back from time to time but my family takes care of me well and I'm really and genuinely happy for once in a long time. I guess this is my first and last letter to you but I just wanted to thank you for stepping in when you did and bringing me to Mother so many decades ago. I know you paid a price to force me into this life as a way to give me happiness. I hope to one day see you again my very first father and I love you even if I do not know you.

Sincerely your beloved daughter,

Akasha Dawnshard

#the 24 hour dinner

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etlunainmorte · 6 years ago

Text

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

A few moments later, V found himself back to the door of (Y/N)'s room. He half expected that something would happen once more but, the way things were going, with all the spy cameras scattered about the place and Nico's close watch with them, he knew he wouldn't see anything this time. He opened door, stepped inside, and closed it once more,...

"Lady (Y/N)!"

"Wait a second!" That sweet and familiar female voice called as V found himself plunged once more into (Y/N)'s past. But, this time, he noticed a change in the atmosphere: it was much livelier, and he could feel the excitement going about the place.

Then, to V's utter surprise, the girl, herself, came out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel draped around her body. She ran hysterically towards the rose wood cabinet and practically threw the doors open in search of something decent to wear.

And as he fully expected, (Y/N) removed her little towel and let it fall on the ground next to her feet, revealing her naked form in all its breathtaking glory.

With a wildly racing heart, wide dilated eyes, and an uncomfortable feeling of warmth that was rapidly building on his crotch, he quickly turned away from the lovely sight. But, the sound of soft fabric grazing against her skin and the overwhelming scent of her favorite floral liquid soap tempted him and lured him to look once more.

And when he couldn't resist it anymore, he gave in to his desires and human needs and laid his eyes onto her beautiful form.

For a few moments of pure torture and ecstasy ( mostly caused by the sudden hardness in the middle of his pants ), he watched her as she put on some clothes: a (F/C) dress that was most probably all the rage in the late 1800s and a pair of matching shoes. She, then, went over to her vanity table with the ornate mirror and sat down on the chair. And as she took her brush and began going through the tangles in her (H/C) hair, V could not help but stare at her and be closer to her.

With gentle eyes full of adoration, he watched her as she carefully brushed her hair and put on some very light makeup. He even felt his body relax as she sprayed some perfume on her neck, its floral scent filling both the pastel - colored room and his nostrils. She looked truly mesmerizing.

And when she got up, he followed her, and it led both of them outside the room.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

V heard a familiar song in the distance but, unfortunately, he unintentionally ignored it as he saw the huge change in the second floor. The once dark and dusty hallway was now very much alive with the red carpet that adorned the floor and the colorful paintings that hung on the wall, not to mention the lights that illuminated the place and made everything bright.

(Y/N) turned to her left and started walking.

"W - wait! P - please,..." V stuttered as he held out a hand towards her. Almost forgetting that she couldn't hear him, he just followed her downstairs where a group of people has already gathered for some nice talks. He tried his best to follow her but, this place seemed to make his body feel heavy, and it terribly slowed him down. He saw her navigate her way through the crowd of formally - dressed ladies and gentlemen, and V did his best to catch up to her. "(Y/N),..." He called once more. "Please,..."

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,... "

She made her way towards the library and music room where more people were gathered. However, V noticed that most of the guests here were female. As she stood on her toes to try and see through the crowd of excited females, V craned his neck to see what's the fuss all about.

Standing next to the grand piano was a single male who was surrounded by blushing females of high fashion who kept asking him questions but, he couldn't hear his voice, at all, due to the sea of excited chatter by these females, and some disgruntled noises coming from a few group of men who seemed jealous of the man in the middle of it all.

"(Y/N), why are you late?!" A dark - haired female, who was as short as (Y/N), shoved a few blushing teenage girls who wore too much rouge that made their cheeks look like overripe apples and made her way towards her at the back.

"Daniella! How long have you been in here?" (Y/N) screamed in response so she could be heard.

The girl named Daniella just rolled her eyes. "I'm a simple girl. I get wind of a celebrity visiting my best friend's house and I immediately run to get there to meet him. Anyway, let's get you there! He must definitely see you! These simpletons are killing me!" She grabbed (Y/N)'s left arm and they both made their way through the crowd as she shoved more ladies aside to make way for the both of them.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

V made a huge effort to go after the two girls, and as he got closer and closer to the mystery guest, he felt his body getting more and more heavy. And then, he heard it,...

"Mr. Blake, are you related to that English poet, William Blake?" A curious gentleman, who got weird looks from the ladies around him, asked the guest.

"I' am pretty sure I'm not." Mr. Blake answered.

"Mr. Blake, can you, please, quote something from William Blake?" An excited lady beside the curious gentleman requested.

V heard him chuckle as he was getting closer. He, then, heard the man as he cleared his throat and began reciting through memory alone.

"I curse,… my stars in bitter grief,... and woe,... that,... made my love,... so high,...and me,... so low,..."

"Oh, my God, that seductive voice! He's such a charmer!" Daniella breathed her admiration. She turned to her friend and dragged her once more as other ladies started requesting Mr. Blake to recite more poems. "Come on, let's get going!"

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

"Can you quote another one, please?"

"Of course, my fair lady. As the air to a bird,... or the sea to a fish,... so is contempt,... to the contemptible,..."

"How about a poem of love?"

There was a moment of silence from the man, and as he was about to speak, Daniella bravely called his name.

"Victor!" She called. "Victor Blake!"

And then, V finally saw him as he turned.

Wavy shoulder length hair as dark as the night. Gentle, and yet deep and intimidating, eyes that gleamed like a pair of emeralds. Hollow cheeks that formed dimples when he opened his mouth in awe of what he just saw.

It was him.

The supple lips of the poet named Victor Blake formed a mischievous, and yet endearing, smirk as he left the group of women who was barraging him with a lot of requests and questions to make his way closer to where V, Daniella, and (Y/N) were.

And as he playfully twirled a familiar - looking metal cane with his long and slender fingers and made his way to them, he began quoting.

"The modest rose,... puts forth a thorn,... the humble sheep,... a threat'ning horn." He recited, his voice pure honey to everyone's ears. "While the lily white,... shall in love delight,... " He, then, stopped right where (Y/N) was as he looked down at her. " ...nor a thorn nor a threat,..." The women squealed in delight while some snickered in envy as Victor Blake kneeled before (Y/N) and gently took her dainty hand in his huge and calloused ones. " ...stain her beauty bright." And as he ended the poem, he placed a chaste peck on the back of her hand, making her cheeks red and her eyes widen.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman!"

"WAKE THE FUCK UP, V!"

V's eyes flicked open as he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. He realized he was lying on the floor while Griffon was flapping his wings hysterically above him.

"F - FINALLY!" The demonic bird practically screamed at him, his voice seemingly cracking. "Now, ah, I know it won't be too much of a bother but, CAN YA DO SOMETHIN' 'BOUT THAT DAMN WOMAN 'CAUSE SHE CAN'T BE FUCKIN' KILLED?!"

V looked ahead just in time as he saw the horrifying face of the blonde bride he saw last night who was now crawling towards him like a huge demonic spider in pursuit of its prey. He drew back in terror as his eyes widened in terror at the look on her face: murderous, distorted, and outright unspeakable. He held out his cane in an effort to summon Shadow but, she just won't come out!

"THE HOUSECAT WON'T COME OUT NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I CALL HER! THAT WON'T FUCKIN' WORK!" Griffon shrieked as the woman came closer and closer.

And then, V remembered,...

"And don't forget! In case of emergency, don't hesitate to push the button."

He felt the radio in his right hand and held it up. And with the last ounce of strength and bravery he had, he pushed the red emergency button and waited for something to -

"I'm lying alone with my head on the phone, thinking of you ‘till it hurts. I know you hurt too but what else can we do, tormented and torn apart?"

V cringed with the obnoxious sound that came out of the radio, and it startled both Griffon and the woman.

"I wish I could carry your smile in my heart for times when my life seems so low. It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring when today doesn't really know, doesn't really know! Ooh!"

V stood up and held the radio before the horrific woman like a Priest wielding a cross in front of a possessed maiden, making her stumble and cover her ears in fright of the horrible voice coming from Nico's gadget.

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you. I know you were right believing for so long. I'm all out of love, what am I without you? I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong!"

The woman opened her mouth and shrieked at V and the abominable thing in his hand and finally scrambled away from them in fear. Like the spider - like thing that she was, she crawled back to the room she came from and the moment the horrible singing was over, the hallway went back to normal and they saw the first glimpses of the early rays of sunrise peeking through the windows.

And as everything went back to normal, V collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Griffon swooped down close to him to assist him.

"You okay, V?" His now calm familiar asked him.

"I' am." He simply answered. And just when Griffon was about to help V on his feet, they turned to their left and saw Nico making her way towards them as she ascended on the stairs. Her hair looked frizzier than ever and her clothes were torn in many places like she just escaped some maniac who was trying to kill her.

"What happened to ya?" Griffon asked her as he finally helped V up to his feet. "Ya looked like ya just went to hell and back!"

Nico sighed and pushed the rim of her now broken glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Don't ask." She said, then took a bent and worn - out looking cigarette from her pocket and tried to light it. And when she finally had a smoke, her body relaxed and her shoulders slumped. "What time is it?"

"How should I know?" The bird replied. “And who was that singin’ that horrible song on the radio?!”

“That’s Nero.” Nico confessed nonchalantly. “I recorded him while he was singin’ in the shower. Thought his singin’ might scare off the rats in the orphanage. Guess I was wrong. It scared off somethin’ much bigger.”

Nico looked around her, her bloodshot eyes roaming around the now bright area. She sighed once more and gestured for them to come down with her.

A few moments later, she placed an old wooden box on the table in the kitchen.

"And that is?" V mildly asked her.

Nico opened the box and what's inside it surprised all of them. There were a lot of old photographs,...

... of (Y/N), and,...

"V?! Is that,... you?!" Griffon questioned as Nico took the photos out of the box, scattering them on the table one by one.

"I stumbled upon these when I was hiding in a cupboard somewhere in this floor." She picked up the picture that the bird was referring to and showed it to them. "What can you say about this, V?"

The poet took the photograph from her hand and took a good long look at it, albeit hard.

And there's no use denying it. From his hair, to his face, from his posture, to the way he held his metal cane.

It truly was him.

Victor and him,...

... were the same person.

And that cane he was holding onto? That one he stole from an antique shop a month ago and used to kill off Demons?

It was the same cane on Victor’s grasp.

The cane in V's hand,..

... once belonged to Victor Blake.

And (Y/N)? She seemed to have fallen for him in that very recent vision he had.

Just like how he was beginning to really feel something truly unexplainable about her,...

***

✒ @la-vita and @micaelagua . ✒

***

✒✒✒

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #p.s. i love you #v x reader #v x you #chapter 9 #victor blake

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msmental-madness · 2 years ago

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Meltdown

**Potential trigger warning: Thoughts of self harm / suicide

To give you background first, my boyfriend, Gavin, and I have been together five years and we've been living together for almost five years. We had to go to couples' counseling a year or so ago because of how bad my mood swings were. He is very aware of all of my mental illnesses and I'm incredibly lucky he didn't leave me when I went to the outpatient program when we first started dating and when I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. He is a wonderful man most of the time, let me make that clear.

With that being said, I tried to explain BPD to him and asked for him to read up on it but there was some kind of disconnect in which he wasn't understanding of how sensitive I am. It's very frustrating to me because he will say shit such as "You're being dramatic." "You take things too personally". OMG it takes so much to hold in that Sicilian rage to not just put a hole through a wall.

The therapist did explain how much more sensitive we are to things, so I figured him hearing a professional confirm this would help so I wasn't deemed as "dramatic" or "faking" it and to also help him to be more understanding and patient with me. We both explained to him that I perceive things differently. I full heartedly admit I take everything personally. Perception is everything so I believe that if you know you're speaking with someone knowing how sensitive they are, you should be conscious on how you word what you're saying to avoid conflict. Is that too much to ask? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm the type of person who is too nice and does everything in my power to not make anyone feel as horrible as I do everyday.

Gavin is also aware of the mental and verbal abused I endured growing up and still continue to experience with my narcissistic Mom. We had gotten into an argument and because I was so riled up from being upset, I disassociated and I honestly can't remember what it was about exactly, but I know it was just a misunderstanding as usual. I had a manic episode yesterday to the extent that I was in hysterics and cried for almost an hour. I was so disoriented that I was thinking that today was the day, the day I finally end my life. The pain was so much that I didn't even care or worry about the pain or consequences.

The mental anguish was so strong and I could just hear my Mom's voice in my head telling me "You're worthless!" "You're so stupid!" Then my voice chimed in and went on about how much of a worthless piece of shit I am. That I can't do anything right. Why do I even bother trying? You're so stupid. In between gasps for air, I began to Google "quick and painless ways to kill yourself". The only thing I read that sounded reasonable was taking a lot of Nyquil. When I went back to the search engine, I came across an article pretty much saying "don't do it. you're loved." blah blah blah. Then the numbers for the suicide helpline appeared and I thought about calling them. I didn't because I didn't want to be a burden.

I just had constant thoughts of slitting my wrists (Never have and will never do that) and just dropping to the floor or ODing on meds (I did that once. Wouldn't recommend). I even thought about driving to a parking garage to try the carbon monoxide method but decided against that because I was too lazy to drive (ha!) Death just sounded so much better than being alive. To be honest, I think about dying every day. I don't think about killing myself every day, but I constantly ask "why can't I just die already?" Or I say "I wish I was dead." Most days, I think being dead would be a vacation compared to being on this Earth. Being dead would be easier than living this life. Just to be clear, I would never kill myself because I'm too scared to do it, I just think about it.

Anyway, I became so dehydrated from crying that I nearly fainted. Gavin found me and became frantic, asking "What's wrong?!" and kept hugging me. He tried so hard to console me and slow down my breathing to stop hyperventilating. Now, anyone who has ever hyperventilated knows that it's not just something you can easily stop and come back from. From my perspective, when it was taking me time to calm down, he seemed to become impatient with me because he said, "You're being dramatic. I'm going to leave the room and come back when you calm down." This made me burst into tears and start up again because it was so hurtful and insensitive to say, especially when I thought maybe he would have been understanding in that moment. I just don't understand how anyone could say that to another after seeing how hard they were crying just minutes ago.

It's frustrating because I needed someone there to just talk me down and tell me things are ok, to ride out the wave with me for however long it took. Maybe I'm the one who is selfish. Maybe I expect too much. My problem is that I expect people to act as how I would. I just know that if the roles were reversed, I would do my research as to how to console someone during an episode to avoid saying anything that can be thought of as insensitive.

Being in any type of relationship with a person who suffers from this disorder, romantically or not, requires a lot of patience and support. Please be that person. We don't want you to leave. We sincerely do not enjoy this life.

#borderline personality disorder #manic episodes #mental illness

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mytremendouslydangerousstudent · 2 years ago

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I loved you. We were somewhat estranged at the time of your death but my boundaries are not what drove you there. It was the described long, grating hours of lying in your childhood bed, not knowing what to do, while knowing you should. Time was spending all the while which you knew as well.

Your mother has those forged together by your death come by her apartment sometimes. She sits with a notebook, grimacing as she writes, sometimes with intrigue and sometimes with a seriousness that seems to take moisture out of the room. I asked her if she had ever considered how studying philosophy was not a wise choice for someone with an inherent nihilism and sadness. She did not quite understand how academics could do anything bad. It wasn't this, anyhow, that brought upon your death.

I can't bring myself to see her again. She harbors every emotion and I can't endure the torture of coaxing it out, racheting it down. There is no end. There is nothing for her in the small piece I was. We wonder if she will ever allow herself to know what we know. The last time I went there was Halloween night.

What is it we know?

Were you wise to go away?

What is to even be gained by knowing?

I will think always of the pain you caused me when you lived, the rejection you felt, the joy we shared, and ultimately my unwillingness to abide by your harming love. I will forever wonder where my voice would have found itself inside of your final months and moments.

Your father ran his fingers through my hair as i openly wept at your funeral, rubbing my back and shoulders like a fucking pervert on full display. It was a public act, an illucidating one for all of your family and friends who did not know that this was the man who had violated you so thoroughly. It became so clear, so late that your father had brought us to that grave site that day as much as you and your own choices, maybe more.

He rhythmically called you by your dead name and we corrected him in unison like some fucked up chorus. It felt better, to allow the rage to take over the deep sorrow. It only festered into a tarry, central disgust that remains.

What to do? What to think? You will be with me forever, I hate you and love you. Are you with me? It's a beautiful thought but I am sure you are nothing. Even though your body was able to be buried naturally, it is in the cemetary fertilizing the mossy grass that others step upon to bury others. Our friend keeps planting things in tribute in the Hadley commons but deer keep eating or squirrels keep digging up the bulbs. I wish we could have put you in a dog park or a garden. A man at the homeless mission I grow food for died recently. At his request and the approval of his family, we used his cremated remains to ammend the fruit trees he helped plant. There was value there. Practicallity. Tree ash is used in agriculture for this purpose all the time. I wish you had a choice. Selfishly I wish I could use your absence and loss for a purpose too. Something to make me glad instead of horribly dismayed, year by year as life goes on. It remains an unending rope I braid and follow simultaneously. I'm so mother fucking sorry.

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thetravellingvagrant · 3 years ago

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Vagrant 8 - The Extended Weekend Break

Yes, hello. It's me. A grumpy, dishevelled man, tutting disdainfully at foreign things, online - in a fun, frothy way though; not like 'Terry, 59, from Maidstone', posting in the Sun's comment section by mashing the heel of his palm against the keyboard of his decade old iPad, dribbling half a mouthful of British brewed lager down his fat tummy, in sheer, blind rage that 'them' in Brussels want to take all the bends out of our bananas - or add more of a bend to them? I'm not sure which, and neither is Terry, but whichever one it is, he's absolutely apoplectic about it and would only be angrier, still, if he actually liked bananas. ...Anyway, not like that. More like tittering at the word "coq" and complaining that continental Europeans have no idea how a queue system works and clearly can't be bothered to try and learn, which, to be honest, is fair enough. Why bother lining up when you can walk to the front of any queue and get whatever thing you want without involving effort or manners. It just makes sense. Regardless, it's been a good old while since my last vagrancy; even longer since my last solo one - four years, by my count - owing to, first, a horrible little goblin man costing me all my money with some mis-registered council tax details and then I think there was some bad cough going around for a couple of years or something? I wasn't paying much attention, to be honest. Either way I've been injected full of microchips now (big ups to Bill Gates - the world's homeboy) and apparently that means I can travel again, so here I am, presenting, with pride - the 10 year anniversary of this blog - Vagrant 8: The Long Weekend Away (sponsored by Microsoft)

It should be noted that this particular vagrancy is a little different from previous iterations. Owing to both being asked to put on an hour long show of what essentially amounts to comedy, that I wrote produced and starred in (very cool) and various unavoidable early-December commitments to Universal Credit (...less very cool), this years trip has been slightly truncated, starting, as it has, nearly a full month later than it normally would. The result of this is that I have left myself a very scant eight days before needing to return for Christmas, to explore, complain about and walk along the motorways of whichever shit European city I happen to be visiting this time. Treat it as a mini-vagrancy if you will. To get me back into the swing of things. Whee.

Worry not though brave fan(s?)! A truncated trip doesn't mean that I'll be skimping on locations! No, sir! In fact, my eight day trip, barring some unforeseen disaster, should take me from Milan, to Nice, to Monaco City (and back), to Genoa, back to Milan and finally to Bergamo, before returning home. How? You ask can I fit six destinations, so sparsely located into only eight days? Why, by allotting no more than a long afternoon to explore any of them and then travelling to the next one via early-morning bus the next day, of course! Why? You ask would I do something so horrid to myself, when I could have just done three places and luxuriated in each, instead? Because I'm stupid and plan things poorly, of course! That is, after all, literally all this blog has been for the last decade. Keep up. Its not hard.

#travelling #travel #vagrant #europe #city #milan #italy #nice #france #monaco #monaco city #genoa #bergamo #complaining #flights #poor planning

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mattchase82 · 4 years ago

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Sister Josefa Menéndez Revelations of hell

Jesus Christ often appeared during the years 1921-22 and 23 to Sister Josefa Menéndez, a nun from the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

His Memoirs are published in a book of more than 500 pages entitled: The Way of Divine Love. This book explains Jesus' commitment to save our souls by encountering His love before "the approach of the last days of the world."

In the life of Sister Josefa, a very rare phenomenon took place in the life of the saints: knowing in their own flesh the sufferings of hell. God allowed the devil to bring her down to hell. There, he spends long hours, sometimes an entire night, in an indescribable agony. Although she was taken to hell more than a hundred times, it seems to her that each time is the first, and each one seems as long as an eternity. It supports all the tortures of hell, with only one exception: hatred of God. It was not the least of these torments to hear the barren confessions of the damned, their cries of hate, pain and despair. In spite of everything, when after a long wait he comes back to life, shattered and exhausted, with his body agonizing by pain, she does not notice suffering, however severe it may be, if with that he manages to save a soul from that creepy cavern of torments. As you begin to breathe better, your heart explodes with joy knowing that you can still love the Lord.

Sr. Josefa writes with great reluctance on the subject of hell. She did it only to conform the blessed desires of Our Lord.

Our Lady told him on October 25, 1922: "All that Jesus gives you to see and suffer from the torments of hell is so that you can make them known to the world. Therefore, forget yourself completely, and think of the glory of the salvation of souls. " She repeatedly testifies about the greatest torment of hell: "One of these condemned souls shouted in despair:" This is my torture ... I want to love, and I can't do it; There is nothing that comes out of me except hate and despair. If one of us could do as much as a simple act of love ... this would no longer be hell, but we cannot. We live in hatred and malevolence. "(March 23, 1922) Another of these unfortunates said:" The greatest of these torments here is that we cannot love God. While we are hungry for love,

She also records the accusations made against them by these unhappy souls: "Some groan because of the fire that burns their hands. Perhaps they were thieves, because they say:" Where is our booty now? ... Damn hands ... Why did I wish to possess what was not mine ... and that in any case, I could only have possessed for a few days? "Others curse their tongues, their eyes ... whatever member was the occasion with which they sinned. .. "Now, oh body, you are paying the price of the pleasures with which you gave yourself! ... And all this you did on your own free will ... !!!" ( April 2, 1922)

"It seemed to me that the majority accused themselves of sins of impurity, of robbery, of fraudulent commerce; and most of the damned are in hell for these sins." (April 6, 1922).

"Some accuse other people, others accuse the circumstances, and all curse the chances of their condemnation." (September 1922).

"I saw many people from the underworld fall into hell, and now the words cannot even describe their horrible and frightening screams: 'Condemned forever ... I was deceiving myself ... I am lost ... I'M HERE FOREVER '. "

"Today I saw a vast number of people fall into the burning abyss ... They seemed like some living people accustomed to the pleasures of the world, and a demon shouted loudly:" The world is ripe for me ... I know that the best way to to gain control of souls is to increase their desire for fun and enjoyment of pleasures ... "Put me first ..."; "Me before the others ..."; "And above all nothing of humility for me, but let me enjoy at my leisure ...". This kind of words ensures my victory ... and they throw themselves into crowds at the bottom of hell. " (October 4, 1922)

"Today," Josefa writes, "I did not go down to hell, but was transported to a place where everything was dark, but in the center there was a huge and frightening red fire. They left me motionless and I could not make even the slightest movement. Around me there were seven or eight people, their black bodies were naked, and I could see them only by the reflections of the fire. They were sitting and talking. "One devil said to another:" We have to be very careful not to be perceived. We could be easily discovered. " "The devil responded:" Insinuate yourself by ensuring that carelessness and neglect take over them, but keeping you in the shade, so that they don't discover you ... gradually, they will become more and more careless, indifferent to good and evil, without any compassion or love, and you will be able to incline them towards evil. Tempt these others with ambition, with love for themselves, that they seek nothing more than their own interest, WITH ACQUIRING RICHES WITHOUT WORKING ... legally or not. Excite those others towards sensuality and love of pleasure. Let vice blind them. "(Here they used obscene words)

"And with the rest ... explore their hearts ... so you will know their inclinations ... make them love passionately ... Act without any scruples ... do not rest ... do not have mercy ... The world must go towards condemnation ... and may souls not escape me.

From time to time, Satan's disciples replied: "We are your slaves ... we will work tirelessly. Yes, many fight against us, but we will work night and day. We know your power!" They talked all at once, and the one that I understood to be Satan used frightening words. In the distance, I could hear a party bustle, the clink of the glasses, and shouted: Let them gather themselves in their meals! That will make everything easier for us. Let them go to their banquets. The love of pleasure is the door through which you will take possession of them ... And those souls will no longer be able to escape from me. "

He added such horrible things that they could never be written or said. Then, as if submerged in a whirl of smoke, they vanished. (February 3, 1923)

The demon shouted rabidly for a soul that escaped him: "Fill your soul with fear, lead it to despair. If she puts her trust in the mercy of that ... (here she used blasphemous words against Our Lord) all will be lost But no, take her to despair, don't leave her for a moment, above all, make her despair ... "Then hell resonated with frantic screams, and when the devil finally threw me out of the abyss, he He threatened me. Among other things, he said: "Is it possible that such small creatures have more power than me, that I am so powerful? ... I must mask my presence, work in the shadow, any corner will be good to tempt them ... whispering to a heard ... on the sheets of a book ... under a bed ... Some souls don't pay attention to me,

Josefa, on his return from hell, noticed the following:

"I saw several souls fall into hell, and among them was a fifteen-year-old girl, cursing her parents for not telling her about the fear of God or for telling her that there was a place like hell. Her life was very short, she said, but full of sin, because she granted him to the limit everything that his body and his passions asked him in the way of his self-satisfaction, especially he had read bad books. " (March 22, 1923)

"The sounds of confusion and blasphemies do not cease for a single moment. A foul smell suffocates and corrupts everything; it is like burning of rotting meat, mixed with tar and sulfur ... a mixture to which nothing on Earth can be comparable. " (September 4, 1922).

Again, he writes: "Souls were cursing the vocation they had received, but not followed ... the vocation they had lost, because they had no will to live a hidden and mortified life ..." (March 18, 1922 )

I began to hear many screams, and immediately I found myself in a very narrow hallway. On the wall there are some niches, where there is a lot of smoke but no flame, and a very bad smell. I cannot say what is heard, all kinds of profanity and impure and terrible words. Some curse their body ... others curse their father or mother ... others reproach themselves for not taking advantage of such an occasion or such light to abandon sin. Anyway, it is a tremendous confusion of screams of rage and despair. I went through a corridor that had no end, and then, giving me a blow in the stomach, which made me like to bend and shrink, they put me in one of those niches, where it seemed that they pressed me with burning plates and like very needles fat by the body, that burned me. In front of me and near, I had souls that cursed and blasphemed me. It is what made me suffer the most ... but what has no comparison with any torment is the anguish felt by the soul, looking away from God. "It seemed to me that I spent many years in this hell, although it was only six or seven hours ... Then I felt that they were pulling me again, and after putting myself in a very dark place, the demon, giving me like a kick let me free I cannot say what my soul felt when I realized that I was alive and that I could still love God. "To be able to rid myself of this hell and although I am so afraid to suffer, I do not know what I am willing to do. I see very clearly that everything in the world is nothing compared to the pain of the soul that can not love, because there you breathe only hate and desire for the destruction of souls. "(...)" When I enter Hell, I hear like screams of rage and joy, because there is one more soul that participates in its torments. I do not remember then having been there other times, but it seems to me that it is the first time. I also believe that it must be for all eternity and that makes me suffer a lot, because I remember that I knew and loved God, that I was in Religion, that he has given me many thanks and many means to save me ... What have I done to lose so much good ...? How have I been so blind ...? And there is no choice ...! I also remember my Communions, that I was a novice, but what torments me most is that I loved Our Lord very much ... I knew him and he was all my treasure ... I lived only for Him ... How can I now live without him...? Without loving it ..., always hearing these blasphemies and this hate ... I feel that the soul is oppressed and drowned ...

More than once he witnessed the fierce struggle of the devil to snatch the divine mercy such or such a soul he already believed his. Then Josefa's sufferings enter, it seems, in God's plans, as a ransom for these poor souls, who will owe him the last and final victory, at the moment of death. "The devil was very furious because he wanted three souls to be lost ... He shouted angrily: That they not escape ...! That they leave ...! Strong ...! Strong!" This way, incessantly, with screams of rage that answered, by far, other demons. For several days I witnessed these struggles. "I begged the Lord to do what I wanted to do with me, as long as these souls were not lost. I also went to the Virgin And She gave me great peace of mind because she left me willing to suffer everything to save them, and I think he won't let the devil out victorious. "(...)" The demon shouted a lot: Don't leave her ...! Stay tuned for everything that may disturb you ...! Do not escape ... make them despair ...! The confusion of shouting and blasphemies was tremendous. Then I heard him say furiously: It doesn't matter! I still have two ... Take away your trust ... I understood that one had escaped, that had already passed into eternity, because he shouted: Soon ... In a hurry ... That these two do not escape ... Take them, let them despair ... Soon, they leave us. "At once, with a grinding of teeth and an anger that cannot be said, I felt those tremendous cries: Oh power of God that is stronger than me ...! I still have one ..., and I will not let that take her away ... Hell, everything was no more than a cry of despair, with a very big mess and the devils screamed and complained and blasphemed horribly. I knew with this that souls had been saved. My heart leapt with joy, but I was unable to do an act of love. I still feel in my soul the need to love ... I don't feel hatred towards God like these other souls, and when I hear them cursing and blaspheming, it makes me very sad; I don't know what he would suffer to prevent Our Lord from being insulted and offended. What hurries me is that spending time will be like the others. This makes me suffer a lot, because I still remember that I loved Our Lord and that He was very good to me. I feel a lot of torment, especially these last days. It is as if a river of fire enters through my throat that passes through the whole body, and together with the pain I have said before. As if they squeezed me from behind and in front with burning plates ... I don't know how to say what I suffer ... it is tremendous so much pain ... It seems that the eyes leave their place and as if they pulled to tear them ... Nerves get very tight. The body is bent, you can not move a finger ... The smell that is so bad, you can not breathe, but all this is nothing compared to the soul, that knowing the goodness of God, is forced to to hate him and, above all, if he has known and loved him, he suffers much more ... "

Josefa dismissed this intolerable stench whenever he returned from one of his visits to hell or when he snatched it and tormented the demon: smell of sulfur, rotten and burned meats that, according to reliable witnesses, was noticeably perceived for a quarter of an hour and sometimes half time; And whose unpleasant impression she kept herself much longer.

"I heard a demon, from whom a soul had escaped, forced to confess his helplessness. 'Disconcerting ... how can they do to escape so many? They were mine' (and listed their sins) ... 'I worked very hard, and yet they escaped between my fingers ... Someone must be suffering and repairing for them. "(January 15, 1923).

Here is, finally, the full text of Sister Josefa's notes on "The Hell of Consecrated Souls". (Biography: Chapter VII, September 4, 1922).

"The meditation of the day was about the Particular Judgment of religious souls. I could not free my mind from this thought, despite the oppression I felt. Suddenly, I felt surrounded and oppressed by a great weight, so that in an instant, I saw more clearly than ever before how wonderful is the holiness of God and His abhorrence of sin. "I saw in an instant my entire life, from my first confession to this day. Everything was vividly presented to me: my sins, the graces I received, the day I entered into religion, my novice dresses, my first vows, my spiritual readings, my prayer times, the notices given to me, and all the help of religious life. Impossible to describe the confusion and shame that a soul feels at that moment, when it realizes: 'everything is lost,

As in her previous descents to hell, Sister Josefa never accused herself of any specific sin that could have led her to such a calamity. Our Lord had only projected that she felt the consequences, if she had deserved such punishment. Sr. Josefa wrote: "Instantly, I found myself in hell, but not dragged there as before. The soul rushes there herself, as if it were to hide from God and thus be free to hate and curse him.

because - and I have written about this before - even though bodily forms were not visible, torments felt as if they were present, and souls recognize each other. One said: 'Hello, you here? And are you like us? We were free to take those votes or not ... but no! ' And they cursed their vows.

Some souls cursed the vocation they had received, and to which they had not reciprocated ... the vocation they had lost because they had not wanted to live humble and mortified ... On one occasion, when I was in hell, I saw a large number of priests , religious and nuns, cursing their vows, their orders, their superiors and everything that had given them the Light and grace they had lost. I also saw some prelates. One accused himself of having used the property belonging to the Church illegally. (September 28, 1922)

The priests threw curses against their tongues, which they had consecrated; against his fingers, which had carried the sacred Body of Our Lord; against the acquittals they had granted; while they were losing their own souls; and against the occasion for which they had fallen into hell. (April 6, 1922)

A priest said: "I swallow poison because I used money that was not mine ... the money they gave me for the masses I did not offer." Another said that he had belonged to a secret society that had betrayed the Church and religion. And that he had been bribed to commit all kinds of terrible desecration and sacrilege. And another said that he had been condemned for attending obscene amusements, after which he should not have celebrated Mass ... and that he had spent about seven years like that. "I felt all this as before, and although these tortures were terrifying, they would be bearable if the soul were at peace. But it suffers indescribably. Until now, when I went down to hell, I thought I had been condemned for abandoning religious life. But this time it was different. He wore a special brand, a sign that I was a religious, a soul that had known and loved God, and there were others who bore the same sign. I cannot say how I recognized it, perhaps in the special way of insulting them with the treatment of evil spirits and other condemned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. perhaps in the special way of insulting them that they were treated by evil spirits and other damned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. perhaps in the special way of insulting them that they were treated by evil spirits and other damned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse.

"Poverty: you were free and you promised! Why, then, did you seek that comfort? Why did you take that thing that did not belong to you? Why did you give that pleasure to your body? Why did you allow yourself to dispose of the property? of the community? Didn't you know that you no longer had the right to own anything, that you had freely renounced the use of those things? ... Why did you murmur when there was nothing for you, or when you imagined worse treaty than the others? ? Why?

"Chastity: you yourself made that vow freely and with full knowledge of its implications ... you forced yourself ... you wanted it ... and how did you observe it? If so, why didn't you stay where it would have been It is lawful for you to grant you pleasures and joy? "And the tortured soul responds: 'Yes, I made those vows; I was free ... I could not have voted, but I did it and I was free ... 'What words can express the martyrdom of such remorse? "writes Sr. Josefa," and all the time the imprecations and insults of other souls Damned continue.

"Obedience: didn't you completely commit to obeying the Rule and your Superiors? Why, then, did you judge the orders that were given to you? Why did you disobey the Rule? Why did you dispense with community life? Remember how sweet it was the Rule ... and you didn't keep it ... and now, "satanic voices shout," you have to obey us not only for a day or a year, or a century, but forever and ever, for all eternity. ... It's your own work ... you were free.

"The soul constantly remembers how he had chosen God for himself as his Husband, and that once he loved Him above all things ... that for Him he had renounced the most legitimate pleasures and everything he considered most dear on earth, that at the beginning of his religious life he had felt all the purity, sweetness and strength of this divine Love, and that by an untidy passion ... he must now eternally hate the God he had chosen to love. "This forced hatred is a torment devourer that consumes the soul, no joy of the past can bring even the slightest relief.

"One of his greatest torments is shame," adds Sr. Josefa. "It seems to her that all the damned around her continually mock her saying: 'That whoever was lost never had the help you enjoyed would not be a surprise ... but you ... what did you lack? You, that you lived in the King's palace ... that you celebrated at the table of the elect. '

"Everything I have written," he concludes, "is nothing but a shadow of what the soul suffers, because words cannot express such frightening torments." (September 4, 1922).

#catholic mysticism #seer #catholicism #traditional catholic #catholic #heaven #christianity #love #its the truth #jesus christ #catholic saints #catholic faith #the devil is a lie #satan #holy #nun

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