#the self-hatred has been a lot lately. like more so than usual so

[gale-in-space]

Alright, I'm feeling open and uninhibited for no particular reason, so I'm gonna go for it. What the hell.

I highly suspect that I have npd, or narcissistic personality disorder to the uninitiated. Or at the very least, I feel like I definitely have traits of it.

I think a lot of people don't really understand what npd is. I didn't, for sure. I think initial gut reactions to npd tend to be ones of disgust and fear mainly, which are often colored by people's impressions that npd is nothing more than the following: 1) excessive self-absorption 2) a massive superiority complex and 3) utter disregard for others.

It's really a lot more complex than that. A lot of this stuff, at least in my experience, stems from trauma. In my case, it's maladaptive thought patterns and behaviors that maybe served me as a kid trying to survive in an abusive household, but no longer benefit me as an adult. These tendencies have even sabotaged a lot of relationships I've tried to build over the years. It's a very isolating experience.

Let me break it down a bit:

Anecdotally speaking, the excessive need for praise and admiration often seen in typical npd profiles appears to be related to a significant lack of such things in the formative years of one's life. Feeling like you're fated for something greater, like you deserve better than these idiots around you, that you're special somehow and if only other people could see that - that's a trauma response. It's like a form of escapism. As a kid, I fervently wished I could be swept off to a magical land where I was the "chosen one" destined to save its denizens. I used fantasy as an avenue for finding meaning for myself. Really, I just wanted to know that I mattered, especially when my family and classmates and teachers made me feel like I didn't.

Npd, at least to me, also comes with tendencies towards debilitating perfectionism. This can manifest in a few ways. Avoiding situations in which failure feels like a certainty is one such example. For me, this would involve dropping out of anything that I wasn't immediately good at, or was awkward in, or made somewhat of a minor embarrassment of myself (by virtue of being new and also, you know, a human who messes up sometimes. Which is what we humans do).

Directly dovetailing from that: A lot of us narcissists deeply fear being perceived or exposed as a failure. It's like our horrible secret, that we're actually worthless creatures that are only ever capable of ruining things, and that we don't actually deserve anyone's precious time. Or at least, that's how it feels for me. And in some way, I feel like that is my unconscious brain's way of being like "hey, if I shrink my self-esteem down a bunch so that I appear very humble and modest, I'll get more affection and praise and compliments insisting that I'm better than I say I am."

And I eat that shit up. It's like fuel for me. The problem is, it's not sustainable.

It's a really tricky thing to balance, and as of yet, I've not come up with a great solution for dealing with it. My self-esteem is devastatingly low, despite my embarrassingly entitled attitude towards receiving compliments. I think another thing that throws a wrench into the works a bit is (if my theory is correct) the fact that growing up with trauma makes happy memories a bit more slippery to hold onto. So any kind of genuine praise I get is almost immediately forgotten, disappearing into a black hole that is desperate to be filled.

I think something that might help is keeping a record of compliments that people give me. Writing them in a journal, keeping them in a document of some sort, etc, etc. People can't always give all-positive feedback all the time. That's just not how feedback works. But for the days when I'm feeling low and like I don't know who I am or why I'm even here, I can refer to my records. I can use this as evidence. And hopefully, this will provide a foundation for me to build a more robust sense of self.

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. If you've read this far, thanks! And if you haven't, well, you haven't.

Yeah. Anyway. Later!

[fhrlclln]

Hii, can I please request a fic with Eddie where he’s in a love triangle with the reader and Chrissy (for the purposes of this fic, Chrissy didn’t die) and can’t figure out who he wants to be with until the reader confesses to him that they’ve been in love with him for two years and didn’t know how to tell him, then Eddie realises he likes the reader more than he liked Chrissy and has to somehow tell Chrissy he’s just not into her like that without letting her down? Idk if this makes sense but

bottled up | eddie munson

SUMMARY : hellfire’s leader has been ditching them a lot lately. confrontation ensues as well as hidden feeling are brought out and eddie is left to choose in the end.

eddie munson x gn! reader

masterlist

GENRE : angst & fluff

WARNINGS : unrequited crush? self-hatred, heated arguments and confessions

WORD COUNT : 3,896

a/n: it’s drama time and damn i made eddie a annoying piece of shit (which i think canonically he is). hope this satisfies you, anon. ^_^

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

you didn’t know how or when did this unusual occurrence happened.

“he’s hanging out with chrissy. chrissy fucking cunningham!” gareth complained, pacing around the club room in anger. all hellfire club members including you sitting in silence and disappointment the dungeon master was no where found, an hour or two already had passed. it was supposed to be the usual campaign night, at least hours of playing yet tonight, gareth was fed up having their leader miss countless sessions just because of his new ‘friend.’

“maybe he’ll show up? you know how sometimes he can get late…” you reassured him, yet everyone’s face knew that wouldn’t happen.

“he almost ditched us for two straight nights and missed band practice cuz he was out with little miss princess, y/n. open your eyes please! he’s not coming.” gareth grumbled, you shake your head at how gloomy the room was now. he was right, eddie had been missing frequently. late show-ups that ruined the mood for the night. it was no secret he and chrissy had been seen talking to each other these past few weeks. walking together in the hallway, laughing and whatever you could call what best friends do. except it was not, the noticeable attraction between the two were there. based on your own selfish observation.

“let’s just… call it a night. let’s try again next week.” jeff offered as all nodded their heads, bummed out that they missed a hellfire night. you frowned, everyone getting up. their heads bowed and their faces scrunched in disappointment.

“guys? hey, we could always play without him. i could get his notes and we could—“ you stopped yourself, the atmosphere unpleasant as dustin gave you a tight small smile just to know the mood was killed.

“it’s ok, y/n.” mike breathed out, even though he was annoyed as gareth is. “just fucking tell him if he ever shows up, to cancel hellfire beforehand than making us come here for nothing.”

“i agree. goodnight, y/n.” dustin shrugged, your frowned deepened seeing him so sulked. you nodded silently as they all exited. you were left to stand alone in the room. you waved them off as you let yourself ponder how everything in hellfire was going into shambles. you shut the door with a thud, aware the table still had the set-up. you cleaned it up, trying your best to not let today’s disappointment ruin your night.

well it did eventually. your chest tightened at the thought of him spending more time with the hawkins high’s queen. it was surprising, that one day he had told everyone in the club that he got chrissy cunningham to speak with him. you, of course, listened to him in silence. watching his smile grow wider with every spill of her name coming out of his mouth that led to this sudden distance you had with him because of it. you and eddie were sort of close friends, he met you the day you were all alone in the cafeteria, offered you to join their club despite knowing nothing of DnD. everything went great that day. though two years had passed, you considered him a great friend to be with.

just friends. that was all you thought the two of you will ever be. having a crush on him from the day he had approached you, the day he declared you as one of the members of the hellfire club. and the day he made you more happier than ever. you cursed at yourself, for being so afraid to tell him how you feel. how you just wanted some kind of answer that could rest your poor little heart. the hidden affection you had for him slowly eating you up. and the consequences of now having to watch him do the things you fantasized with him with another girl. all bullshit to you.

“hey, did everyone go home now? shit.” you jumped suddenly hearing eddie’s familiar voice. you turned around sharply as the dim lights of the room shined before him. you gulped, the sound of your thumping heart in your ears. he looked good, hair still a mess, eyes doe and his lips in a confused frown. you missed him. a bubble of annoyance burst inside of you, replacing the familiar fluttery feeling. remembering the words of gareth inside your head.

“yeah. you should’ve just told us you’d be busy or something, eddie.” you trailed, the displeasure in your tone. “the others are mad.” you added, picking up your bag, avoiding his confused gaze. you were about to leave as he stuttered something out, clearly baffled no one waited for him.

“hey, hey, hey, woah. what do you mean they’re mad? i got caught up with chrissy and everything.” eddie clumsily stood in front of you as you were about to leave.

you sighed at him. “you’ve almost missed two nights of hellfire, edds. the others are fed up with it. could’ve at least told us that you’d cancel and we wouldn’t be waiting for you for like an eternity in here.”

his eyebrows raised. “cancel? no, i don’t and i won’t cancel a campaign. maybe if there still here somewhere we could call them back. i promised you guys i’ll play. we’re getting close to the cult of vecna!”

“eddie. it’s ok.” you reassured him, seeing the frown on his face made you pity him. “there’s always next week.”

“are they that shit mad? are you angry?” he quietly asked, feeling guilty he had let them down. hellfire was his family, his own little clan of freaks that bonded together despite the school’s harsh treatment on them. of course he felt severely bad that he had just ditched them again. and you…

“i’m not.” you lied, he smiled as he nodded. “and…yeah.” you shrugged, his face dropped completely as he nodded his head. “you’ve been hanging out with chrissy a lot lately and gareth was the most fed up about it.” you added, not helping yourself as the annoyance had for him wouldn’t go away.

“what?” eddie’s head sharply met your gaze. you jumped a bit at the sudden rage in his expression. woah. “what’s chrissy got to do with this?”

“eddie, he knows you’ve been ditching us for chrissy. it’s no problem at all and you can understand how gareth feels when you hang out with someone new.” you explained, wishing you had just gone out than comfort him. your tiny heart slowly cracking up at the mention of the girl.

“bullshit. they’re more mad because i just hung out with someone new? is that it?” he accusingly asked. you blinked, a tingle in your chest that had your brows scrunched together. obviously! you wanted to shout, open his stupid head.

“they’re upset that you almost ditched us, eddie.” you firmly stated. “there’s no problem with chrissy, gareth was just upset that you had missed some practices because you—“

“—of chrissy. i’ve clearly fucking stated that nothing was going to change with chrissy with ‘em.” he let out a sharp sigh. the vein in his forehead bulged. you closed your mouth, shocked at how defensive he is with the girl. does he really like her that much? you thought, the mild jealousy ticking in your emotions. cracks of annoyance slowly showing in your face. you gulped, uncomfortable how you were trying not to let your own feelings get in the air.

“they’re just upset.” you offered softly. “it’ll come and go. just… just try and not make them feel left out, you know? chrissy’s always welcome in hellfire.”

“how’d you know that?” he let out a not so amused laugh, still shaking his head at how angry he is that gareth mentioned chrissy. “you already told me gareth was talking shit about chris’. you think the rest would welcome her?” his voiced raised a bit, your heart clenched at the sudden throw of emotions.

“i was just trying to help you understand how upset the rest are.” your throat constricted, glad you maintained a steady voice in spite of the overwhelming emotion creeping in the back of your head of how he’s taking his anger out of you.

“well it’s not fucking working.” he mumbled, loud enough for you to hear. your eyes widened a bit, the heat of the stage lights shone before you, a burst of something encouraging you to just—

explode.

“for once, i was just trying to tell you that you could’ve had the decency to tell us you’d be hanging out with chrissy and not fucking making us wait two shitty hours because you were busy with someone else! is it that hard to understand your friends are upset because of it?!” you almost shouted, your chest huffed as eddie stared at you with big eyes. audibly very shocked how you bursted.

“wow.” he scoffed. “wow. why does it matter to you? you said you weren’t mad. i expected—“

“you’re not listening to me. it’s not chrissy, it is not about her.” you huffed, rubbing the bridge of your nose in utter irritation.

“—i expected you’d back me up here, y/n.” he finished, evidently his own irritation taking over.

“i’m not backing up anyone.” you openly stated, hands clenching each side. feeling defeated as you looked away, fed up and tired before taking a step away from him to leave the club room. humiliated you lost your cool, seeing how eddie’s eyes seem to catch something as you offered softly. “please just let this go. goodbye, edds.”

“no.” he roughly grabbed your arm, your eyes widened as you froze in his tight hold. looking at him with furrowed brows. “i’ve had enough of this bullshit. tell me, tell me for fucking once this is not because of gareth and the others. tell me.”

a moment of silence transpired, what was he on about now? dazzled you are, you roughly shove his hand off your arm. “what are you talking about?”

“don’t bullshit me anymore, please.” he pleaded, his eyes shined leaving you baffled. what?

“i don’t understand.” you breathed out, nervous how close he is to you. towering your presence with his seriousness. “what bullshit are you talking about?”

“chrissy. me and chrissy. tell me.” shit. of course, of course he had seen you clear as day. as annoying as he is, eddie was conflicted in the inside. his head was reeling the thought of your distance with him. he didn’t meant to actually hung out with chrissy, surprisingly the cheerleader found him with his head stuck in a hole because of you and offered him comfort. he did like her, the way her presence had made him feel something, the way her kindness had saw through him instead of hawkin’s freak. for once, he felt like he was worth it because of her.

but you, who had been running in his thoughts for most of the time was killing him, you who had silently stuck with him since he had found alone in the cafeteria. you, who had been making his whole head hurt if you two were more than friends. and now he had seen the way you reacted, the subtle glint in your eyes as guilt fed him up when the day he told everyone that he had been hanging out with chrissy. and the distance between the two of you urging him to know what the hell was going on with you. and what the hell was he supposed to do?

“i—“ you started, words you wanted to spit out in a hold on how you were put on the spot. were you really going to say this to him? you contemplated yet coward back as usual. “what do i got to do with you and chrissy? eddie, if you l-like her, you don’t have to ask—“

“you’re driving me crazy here, sweetheart.” eddie let out a sigh. “you put a wall between us since i told everyone about chrissy. what the fuck is going on?”

“fine.” you decided, the bottled up emotions of how fucking jealous you are for the sweet girl he had been with. “fine, alright, i like you! there, is that better? i liked you for two years, munson. and i hated it when you hung out with her. does that answer your question?”

silence filled the sudden void. the cold temperature of the room run a shiver down your spine, you could see his eyes widen at the sudden confession. your chest huffed as you felt so disgusted with yourself at how fucking pathetic you just told the boy you’d longed for him in such a stupid confession. and not to mention he had a girl he liked that was way above you. who were you to compete with chrissy cunningham? ending up all cringing in the inside when he just stayed silent, a silent answer you took as your heart bursted into shards. your vision blurred as wet tears drip down your cheeks, you turned away quickly, hiding back the pathetic sob before eddie could call you back, snapping out of his surprised state. the door slammed shut, the dungeon master watched your figure leave him as he cursed loudly.

“great fucking reaction, munson!” he muttered to himself, rubbing his face with his hands up to his bangs in irritation at how stupid he just stood there seeing you cry. he fucked up. he always fucked everything up. the answer he had been waiting for in front of him. you liked him. finally, you liked him! and he just stood there like an idiot. his mind was in shambles as he exited the room. the thought of you and chrissy circling in his mind like wildfire.

what was he going to do?

•••

eddie walked out of the school, pacing around in the parking lot. it had been an hour or so he’d been biting his lip in frustration, trying to think of ways how to actually fucking get you back to him. the stars shined in the sky, he kicked a pebble harshly, muttering curses as he fished out his cigarette pack to smoke. he lit it with ease, the nicotine running in his lungs as he blew out with a sharp sigh. fucking idiot. the constant degradation towards himself never ceased to stop since he had saw that hurt look of yours that made him want to jam his head on the street light pole. too late, he declared to himself, you hated him now! what was the point of thinking how he’d win you back when he can fuck it up again?

“eddie?” eddie jumped in surprise as he lifted his head up, the cigar ashes falling to the ground to see chrissy waving at him with a confused look. cheer practice must have been hard if they had finished just now, knowing he had purposely made her late a bit when they had hung out a while ago.

“oh, hey, cheery practice done?” he asked, blowing one last smoke out as he threw it to the ground to smash it with his shoes, making a gesture of a pom-pom as chrissy smiled and shake her head walking towards him.

“yeah. pep rally’s coming in closely. your club session just ended?” she curiously asked, hands a-front, clasped together as she shyly smiled at him. eddie leaned back on his van, gesturing as he shook his head.

“nah. they all got home before i could make it back— “ he let out a nervous laugh. “—i fucked up big time.” getting another cigarette shakily as chrissy’s smile faded into a concern frown.

“what do you mean? did something happen? you can tell me.” chrissy offered, eddie studied her for a moment, gears clicking in his brain as the question of who he had liked punched him in the face. did he really like chrissy romantically? or was it he was obsessed with the idea of the most popular girl had payed interest to him? he’s a utter shitbag he just realized.

“well, i, shit, i just…” eddie trailed, angry again at himself. “i’m not good at this confession thingy so i kinda made someone think i didn’t like them and just fucking stood there, watched them c-cry.”

“woah.” chrissy eyes were a bit wide, mouth forming a perfect ‘oh’. truly, chrissy might of thought him as the most idiotic person ever.

“and i don’t know what to fucking do.” he whispered, inhaling the cancer of a stick in, the smoke filling his lungs with momentary relief.

“well, do you like them?” she asked, titling her head to the side as eddie looked at her with sad eyes. he thought about it, the word ‘yes’ immediately answering in his head. yes, of course he liked you. he liked you since he had met you, stubborn him not acknowledging himself that it was you who made him fucked up in the head every night, wishing something more would happen between the two of you every day. yes, he likes you. and fuck it, he loves you for goodness sake.

“well?” chrissy asked, seeing his eyes stare into a void, clearly he knows his answer as he relaxes his shoulders. hesitant knowing chrissy may had shown some interesting in him a couple of times.

“yeah.” eddie shrugged, cheeks turning red at the thought of you. “more than anything.”

“you’re a stubborn idiot, munson!” chrissy slapped his arm. eddie jumped at the sudden outrage. “well what are you standing here for? if you like them then tell them!” she demanded, supportive as ever.

“w-wait, i thought you’d be mad—“

“eddie.” chrissy sighed. “yes, i like you. well i thought so but i just think…”

“we’re just friends?” eddie asked, not faze chrissy had thought of the same thing. knowing this messy break-up she had with jason, not knowing the details well enough to know if she still loved that annoying jock. and that the reason they had been close is just because of a shared comfort. conflicted feelings.

“best friends i think.” chrissy laughed but pinched the cigar out of his hand in surprise to toss it away. “come on, if you still have the time. maybe y/n can forgive you.”

eddie’s brow rose. “how the fuck did you know—“

“it’s so obvious, eddie. just shut up and go to them!” chrissy pushed him to go to his van. eddie yelped as he nodded, quickly hopping in, waving back to the cheer captain with utter graciousness with her kind advice. time was ticking, he sped up not caring if the cars honked at him. chrissy watched him go, shaking her head at how oblivious he is, wishing him the best of luck.

•••

you sniffled, laid back on your bed, staring up to the ceiling of just plain hurt inside your chest. as the constant play-through of his expression when you had embarrassingly spilled out those words made your tears drop down your cheeks faster. the scrunch of his eyebrows, mouth slightly agape, the expression of disgust you guessed. you felt like you wanted to sleep for an eternity and forget how this all happened. how any of this would’ve not happened if you had just stayed silent. but here you are, guessing your relationship with him is ruined. two fucking years of friendship down the drain.

“helloooooo??” a muffled voice outside your window made you sat up quickly following the loud banging on your window making your heart jump in fear. you glanced to it, aware a shadow of a figure loomed over your own window. the banging continued as you hastily stood up and cautiously opened it, ready to smack someone with the nearby object if ever it was a intruder.

“eddie?” but it wasn’t an intruder, the same brown locks of hair appeared before you as he stumbled into your room. you backed up, looking down on the clumsy metalhead seeing sweat glisten his forehead as he let out a huff of air, doe eyes meeting yours, glistening under your lamplight.

“y/n.” eddie breathed out, chest huffing, tired he had climbed up your window just to discreetly get to you without your family knowing. you were speechless, not knowing what to do or what to say or either smack him but he was here. eddie observed your facial expression, suddenly nervous as he straighten himself to spit the words he’d been reciting in his head while driving towards your place. you stood in front of him, expecting, waiting and he stuttered it out before you could tell him to piss off.

“about… about a while ago. i wanted to say—“

“it’s fine.” you cut him off, drained already to hear the rejection from him. “none of that was supposed to be heard. i-i’m sor—“

“no. no. what i’m trying to say is— i fucking like you too.” he let it all out, stepping closer, not wanting you to leave him again. “i like you.” he whispered, tone so sweet that it was too good to be true for you.

“you’re lying.” you accused, the tremble in your lip wanting to make you cry. he had chrissy, and now why you? eddie shook his head again, you were stubborn as well as you averted his gaze, ashamed again. “you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“and you don’t think i know who i fucking like? i’m not bullshitting this, i like you, sweetheart.” he gently held both of your hands in his, thumb circling your fingers as you stared at it. the metal of his rings digging lightly on your skin. you hoped, severely hoped that this wasn’t a dream or some other fucked up shit happening. his ring cladded hand softly placed one of your hands on his chest, above his thumping heart. “i’m sorry for not saying this sooner. but i do fucking like you a lot— love you actually more than you think. ever since you first smiled at me that got me big time. i’m just an idiot for realizing it now. it’s not chrissy, i want you.”

you blinked again, your cheeks heating up to your ears. blood rushing in your head making you feel slightly dizzy as you exhaled the breath you were holding. not believing this was happening. eddie patiently waited as you finally looked him in the eyes again, that frown gone replaced with dazzlement. the hand on his chest gripped his shirt for a moment, making him think if his confession was cheesy as shit. well it was, then again he wasn’t good at feelings.

“we’re both idiots then.” you spoke, a smile tugging your lips as eddie’s heart thumped in anticipation. in one swift moment of his impatience taking over, he leaned in to lock your lips to his. you stumbled in his hold as you gripped his shoulders as he cupped your cheeks. realizing his actions, he broke it with mumbles of apologies, resting his forehead against yours. you laughed, seeing his embarrassed face as he smiled now, embracing you in his hold.

“am i forgiven?” he asked eagerly.

“i think you owe everyone first tomorrow a annual hellfire night, edds.” you chuckled, pecking his lips. “and you owe me a date for waiting for two fucking years for you.” eddie nodded, hugging you tight making you squeal, feeling his chest flutter.

“anything for you.”

hey, sometimes i like cheesy confessions 😩✋

[cricket-reader]

His Whole World

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: a restless night gives way to anxiety about her boyfriend and their relationship.

Warnings: language, insomnia, self-doubt, self-hatred, negative body image, pet names, worries of infidelity, fluff

Word Count: 1,093

Prompt: Stress, Insomnia, “Get some rest.”

A/N: day 2 of Whumpril 2023 by @whumpril

Twisting and turning in her bed, she cursed her mind. It would never shut up when she needed it to. Thoughts raced through her mind like cars in a NASCAR race. The lights were out and she was all alone.

Huffing in irritation, she threw the blankets off of her and ambled to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, she wondered where her boyfriend was. Looking at the green digital clock on the stove, she saw that it was much later than he was usually out.

Ever since they moved in together Matt had always tried to make it home earlier. Often times she couldn’t sleep without him. She usually called him her personal teddy bear.

She sat down on the couch and watched the stairs. Matt should be home any second now. He’s going to be okay. He’s talented beyond belief and has made several promises to always come back home to her.

Biting her nails, she wonders if he got hurt. He did once tell her that he got left in a dumpster to die. What if that is where he is now? What if he’s in the alleyway by the apartment, too weak to make it up the stairs? What if he is silently hoping that she will come down to help him?

Cursing under her breath, she slips her sandals on and scurries down the stairs. She doesn’t even bother to change out of her pyjamas. If Matthew is hurt, that is the last thing she should worry about.

It was still damp outside due to the rain that had just fell. There were a few people ambling the streets along with some cars passing by. It is the city that never sleeps, after all.

Checking in both alleyways next to the apartment complex, she didn’t find her boyfriend. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or even more worried. On one hand, he wasn’t bleeding out whilst she was being useless up in the apartment, but on the other hand, he could be bleeding out in an alleyway somewhere blocks away.

Shivering, she notes that she probably should have at least thrown on a sweatshirt. The wind nips at her skin as she makes her way back into the building.

Whilst climbing the stairs, a brief thought passes her. What if he was out with some other girl? She knows that he’d never do that to her, but what if? After all, she’s not all that amazing of a girlfriend. Even if Matt can’t see her, he surely knows that she’s ugly. She has too much fat in all the wrong places. She has too much anxiety and struggles a lot with mental health problems.

He could do so much better.

She paces back and forth, stress gnawing at her brain. He’d be better off without her. What if he’s injured? She can’t deal with needles so he always has to do it himself. Maybe he could find someone pretty that also wasn’t given the heebie jeebies with needles.

She didn’t even hear him come in. Although that could be attributed to the fact that he is so quiet on his feet.

He could hear her steps back and forth and back and forth. Her heart was beating fast and he could tell she had been at it a while.

He knew she struggled with anxiety and felt horrible that his vigilante act had gone longer than usual. She must have been worried if he was okay.

“Baby?” Matt questions, taking his Daredevil mask off. He heard her spin on her feet and her heart skipped a beat.

“Matt,” she breathed out. She wanted to run up to him and wrap him in an embrace and never let go. But she couldn’t get those pesky thoughts out of her mind.

“I��m okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry I’m late. There was a lot going on and I couldn’t get away.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. He could easily be lying to her. She didn’t have the ability to tell if his heart was beating any faster. It wouldn’t be the first time one of her boyfriends had lied to her.

“Are you okay?” Matt questions, moving closer to the love of his life; his everything.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

He frowned, not even needing to hone into her heartbeat to tell that she was lying. “What’s wrong?”

She huffed, hating that he could read her so well. It wasn’t fair that he knew everything about her whilst she could never even discern what his mood was. It was dumb. She hated it so damn much. “I’m fine,” she grumbled, moving to go to the bed.

“Stop lying to me.”

She rolled her eyes that were filling with tears. “Why? Why can you lie whilst I can’t?”

Matt furrowed his brows, taken aback. Lying? When did he lie? “What?”

“Just admit it, Matthew. You could do better than me. You probably just didn’t want to have to come home to deal with my annoying clingy self. Admit it! You don’t want me anymore and that’s why you come home later every night. You’re tired of staying up with me because I can never fall asleep and you hope if you stay out longer I’ll be asleep.”

Matt was speechless.

How could she think such things? Had he not done enough to show her that she was his whole world? How could she doubt herself? She is perfect. Too good to be true.

“What makes you say that?” His throat was dry. Was this her way of breaking up with him? God, he hoped not. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

“Don’t play dumb with me Matty. I’m.. I’m just me… and you’re you. You deserve better than me,” she pouts, plopping down to sit on the bed.

“Baby, you’re crazy if you think that I could ever find someone better than you. You’re perfect and I’m so sorry that I haven’t done enough to prove that to you.”

She sniffles as he moves to hold her on the bed. His gentle caresses immediately make her feel at least a little better.

He gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead before saying, “get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up, yeah?”

She nods, curling into his chest and yawning. Matt holds her the entire night, occasionally giving her small kisses. He’d do anything to prove her worth. He’d make her see. She is his everything. And he’d never give her up for anything.

[dragondemoness]

OMG OMG REQUESTS ARE FINALLY OPEN??

LETS GO AMERICA😻😻🥺🥺🇺🇸🇺🇸🌎🌎💸💸💪💪🔫🔫

aah anyways, I’ll be the first(or early) one to request!! also how have you been doing today? schools tiring me out as usual but whatever.

May i request Makoto Naegi, Chiaki Nanami, Mikan Tsumugi, Mondo Oowada and Hajime Hinata with a S/O who has a Obanai Iguro Personality from Demon Slayer??(aaahhhghh/ im such a obanai kinnie)

Thanks!! (Also if you take matchup requests, may I request one sometime? Also don’t mind me sending some more requests along the way 😻😻)

Yep, they sure are! They've been open for a little bit now, but hey, it's never too late :3

My day's been well, how about yours?

I really gotta watch Demon Slayer one of these days- But I do hope you enjoy this! I've never tried a matchup before, but I am open to it

And like always, request to your heart's content my friend 😌

Makoto, Chiaki, Mikan, Mondo and Hajime with an S/O who's like Obanai Iguro (Demon Slayer)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death and self-hatred

Makoto Naegi 

He is incredibly intimidated by you

The way you share literally no concern for anyone who doesn't abide by the rules scares him

You were incredibly harsh and unforgiving with them, so he tried to steer clear of you

With him, however, you were much kinder

It feels like whiplash

You go from berating and pointing your finger at some poor fellow from the Reserve Course to giving gifts the second you enter his presence 

You're even willing to share your meals with him

He does love it though

He'll also buy you things he thinks and hopes you like, and he'll gladly share his food with you as well

You can also be overprotective of him

You'll even threaten people who get too close

Somehow, that's scarier than your initial merciless demeanor

He's glad you love him and all, but chill???

But he's super glad that talking to him  helps you forget the struggles from your past

Hearing of your self loathing made him super sad

He hates that you lived in such a toxic environment, and he truly believes you deserve better

Especially since you once felt that you needed to die and cleanse yourself of your "filthy" blood before confessing to him

He's there for you if you need to talk

Makoto greatly admires your determination as well

Even when you're exhausted or injured, you keep on going until the end

But he worries about you a lot and wants you to take care of yourself

Overall, even though you worry him a lot, Makoto is a very sweet and loving partner towards you

He loves you for all of you, and he'll be there for you no matter what

Chiaki Nanami 

She finds you very interesting

Your harshness never bothered her too much, but she does wish you would be gentler towards others

She doesn't think people from the Reserve Course deserve to be berated, and she'll probably step in on some occasion

She knows a guy in the Reserve Course cough cough Hajimemes so she doesn't appreciate the meanness 

She does enjoy your kindness towards her though

She loves the gifts you give her, and that you share your food with her as well

She's super glad talking to her is helpful for you

It makes her feel special, in a way

Hearing that you really didn't like yourself made her sad

But she understands how growing up in a bad environment can do it to you

She's always there to talk if you need it

And when you told her that you felt you needed to die and purify your blood, she was highly concerned

Aside from that, she admires your determination

But she makes sure you take care of yourself

So, Chiaki is super sweet, but can be stern with you

But she does love you and want the best for you

Mikan Tsumiki 

Oh she thought you were scary as hell

The way you were so harsh with the Reserve Course made her terrified of how you might act towards her

So she steered clear of you for a long while

Though she did watch you a little bit because you were also cool

But when you actually started growing closer, she was shocked at how much different you acted around her

Instead of berating her, you gave her sweet gifts and shared your meals with her

It's so jarring at first, but she loves that she gets special attention

Part of her would like for you to be nice to everyone, but she also loves how only she gets to see this side of you

But anyway

She hates that you don't like yourself

Although, as sad as it is, it takes one to know one

She didn't grow up in the most positive environment either, so she understands how it can take a toll

But she's more than willing to lend an ear if you need to talk

And the statement about dying and cleansing your blood deeply disturbed her

She really admires your determination as well

You're very strong-willed, and she loves that about you

But please don't overwork or hurt yourself too much, or she will freak the hell out

In the end, even though Mikan kept a good ten-foot distance from you at first, there is nobody in the world she loves more than you

Mondo Owada 

He hated your guts at first

The way you seemed to look down on anyone lesser than you just pissed him off so much

Admittedly, he couldn't care less about the Reserve Course either, but if you brought that on any of the Ultimates, he's not taking that crap

Especially if it was about him

Y'know how Byakuya talked down to him? Yeah, don't do that

He's definitely thought of punching you

But somehow, you ended up together

The way you acted still irritated him, but oh well

He does enjoy your acts of affection towards him though

Even though he can act a little tsundere-ish about receiving them, he does smile when you give him a gift

He really hates that you have such a low opinion of yourself

He just wants to go back and punch your family in the guts for being such b-holes

But he can at least comfort you and lend a listening ear

He was also deeply disturbed about your statement about dying and purifying your blood

He loves that you're so determined 

You remind him of himself, in a way

But you'd best take care of yourself

No passing out on his watch

But anyway, even though Mondo wanted to punch your lights out at first, he will stick by your side till the very end

Hajime Hinata

Being from the Reserve Course, he was one of your targets

He had been insulted or commented on by an Ultimate or two, but you were the worst of the worst

Classic enemies to lovers trope here

But by the universe's will, you ended up together

He still really doesn't like your harsh behavior towards his classmates, but hopefully he can help you work on it

Aside from that, he does enjoy your acts of affection

Even though he rejected them at first, he loves when you give him a gift

It makes him really sad that you suffer from self-loathing

He's pretty mad at your family as well

But he will provide comfort as best as he can

You telling him about dying and cleansing yourself of your blood really shocked and disturbed him

Especially thinking about how you guys started out

But even back then, he did admire your determination

And he loves it even more now

But he does keep an eye on you to make sure you don't hurt or overwork yourself

Overall, even though you started off rocky, Hajime has the softest of spots for you

But please leave the Reserve Course alone

[griseldabanks]

Desire, hate, and wound for Shard, from the not-so-nice oc asks.

-Rain

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

This is something I've been puzzling over lately, while trying to think through my characters' goals and how to use them to make the protagonist more proactive. For the most part, Shard is more reactive, reacting to issues that come his way rather than setting out to achieve some goal. But I think what he wants most in the world is peace and safety - for him, and for the people he loves. Ironically, that desire is what initially pushes him out of the safety of his hometown and out into the big, scary world. He realizes that his new dragon friend will probably be killed if he stays home, so they have to run away together.

As they continue on their journey and eventually join up with the Ambassadors, this desire for peace for himself and Shynael expands to include everyone. He realizes that everyone is scared. Everyone wants to live peacefully, but they're living on the brink of war, so when they feel their security is being threatened, they lash out against someone else's security. And Shard realizes that, if he's ever going to have the hope of living in a peaceful world where he doesn't have to keep looking over his shoulder, he's going to have to do something about it.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Shard would say, "Hatred is against my religion."

But you know what the first answer was that came to my mind? The person he hates the most is himself. Anger and rage he has plenty of, but there aren't a whole lot of people that I would say he actually hates - at least not for more than a few minutes.

But himself? Oh, there is so much he hates about himself. Especially once that rage gets the best of him, and he finds himself saying and doing things he regrets as soon as the anger wears off. He always thought of himself as a kind, quiet peacemaker like the priest who raised him. He always thought the best thing to do with any anger he felt was to stuff it away, not think about it, and wait for it to dissipate. But due to the nature of his new life away from his usual safety nets and routines, confronted with the cruelty and anxiety of the world around him, suddenly he finds that anger exploding out of him...and onto others. He ends up hurting people. Seriously hurting people. What kind of person does that make him?

So yes, one of the main things Shard has to grapple with in his story is not only how to control the rage inside him so it doesn't hurt anyone, but also how to live with these two sides of himself - the one that wants to tear the world apart, and the one that wants everyone to live in peace.

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

>:D You know me! I love my angst and I love my whump, so when I get a world and characters all of my own, you can bet I put them through The Trials.

As you can see from the previous question, Shard has some mental/emotional wounds, mostly self-inflicted, he has to deal with. At his lowest point, he teeters on the verge of ending it all.

But one of my favorite scenes, predictably, is a scene where Shard gets stabbed and nearly loses his life. I'm definitely going to have to tweak the circumstances, because the way it happened in the first draft just...doesn't work, on multiple levels. But I want to keep the scene itself in, because there's just too much delicious whump potential there! Shard's bleeding out, Shynael comes to his rescue, the poor baby goes in a panic to Vesper, who patches Shard up and nurses him back to health, which jump-starts their friendship. Originally, I had dragon blood have healing properties similar to phoenix tears in Harry Potter, but I haven't quite decided if I want to do that anymore (it would make dragons even harder to kill, for one thing). But if I do go that route, Shynael gets to donate his blood and then you get to dwell on how they really are brothers now that Shynael's blood runs in Shard's veins.

Not-So-Nice OC Ask Game

[kindheart525]

Astor had invited Blue to her house for the night, just the two of them and her undivided attention. She had noticed a change in her friend and she could only guess what the reason was, but she didn't like it. So here they were in Astor’s inner sanctum, the glow in the dark stars and decals Blue had gifted her covering the walls.

"Sit down Blue."

She spoke sternly, making her way over to her desk and beginning to shuffle papers.

"Tell me what's going on."

Blue had been acting a lot more quiet than usual, more shy and nothing like her confident self. She started twirling her mane nervously but willed her hooves to stop as she spoke.

“Oh it’s not much, it’s just...”

But one look over at her friend and it was clear that Astor was not convinced one bit. Something about her unlocked something in Blue, opening up the floodgates as her voice instantly choked up and tears sprung to her eyes.

“Ever since I started dating Varmint I haven’t gotten a break! I love her with all my heart and I want to be with her for a long time, but everypony seems to think I’m NOT going to treat her well!”

At this point her makeup was running down her face and she could not stop it as she spilled all her feelings out.

“Brackish thinks I’m out to hurt Venny and Cedar says I’m a bad influence on Violet for having so many lovers! Do I really seem like the kind of mare who wants to hurt ponies!? I love my girlfriend AND my sister and I...I’d never dream of doing anything to them! Not ever!”

She gripped at herself, riddled with self-hatred as she reflected on all the things ponies had said to her lately.

“But what if I AM a slut? What if I AM a bad influence, what if I do flaunt myself too much? Did I break everypony’s hearts, am I gonna break Venny’s too!? I just don’t know what to do, I...”

Blue couldn’t go on any longer, all she could do was break down into sobbing as she wallowed in her shame.

Astor continued arranging her star maps the whole time as Blue spoke. To anypony else she looked like she was ignoring her friend but in actuality she was listening very intently, evaluating the situation critically as Blue explained it all. And once she was done she immediately had her own two bits to offer.

“First of all, you should stop listening to Brackish. He’s an imbecile and he has zero credibility to talk about your sex life when he brags about his own body count constantly. Red Cedar also has no place to judge when she was looking around while in a relationship. By Gaia, I can’t be your only voice of reason here.”

She quipped in the same blunt tone she always spoke in; anypony else would have thought she was completely serious. But Blue didn’t laugh like she normally would have.

“But what if she has a point?”

Blue got up from her seat and walked up behind Astor, still sniffling and sobbing quietly.

“What if I’m only making it worse for myself by being so open? Making ponies think I’m somepony I’m not?”

“There are always going to be ponies who think you’re a slut. You can stop being open about it and leave them with nothing to use against you. You can hide it all away. Or you could just...stop giving a shit.”

“Well I didn’t until now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

She gripped her hat to her chest, hanging on Astor’s every word for consolation even when her tone wasn’t very gentle.

Astor kept her eyes on the star maps she organized so diligently, but her voice softened ever so slightly as she went on.

“It’s because you clearly care about Varmint. Of course you care about everypony you’ve been with but you seem to be pretty intent on pursuing something long-term with her. This is not another fling.”

“Yes, more than anything, I want her to know that!”

Astor turned towards her, focusing her full and undivided attention on Blue now.

“Then tell her. Nopony has any power to stop you. Not Brackish, not Cedar, not even Gaia. You go right down to that farm and you tell her exactly how you feel.”

A smile finally returned to Blue’s face as she put her hat back on, a newfound courage growing inside her with Astor’s advice helping her.

“You’re right! If Brackish tries to stop me I’ll tell him to fuck himself! And then I’ll fuck his sister!”

She laughed and Astor chuckled along with her.

“Yes you will.”

Astor took note of Blue’s face, still stained with mascara and snot, tossing her a tissue box from her desk.

“But clean yourself up first, you’re an absolute mess. You want to look your best while doing it, don’t you?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Sister Sister Next: Penchant

Collaboration with @cloud-roots

[salsflore]

AUUGH I just got into self shipping and such because I realized I really love this one lil dude plaguing my mind for almost a year now

BUT THATS NOT THE POINT OF THIS, I wanted to hear about your s/o’s! I love hearing people rant so you should talk about ‘em more! Go for it!!!

HELLOO ～ sorry for the late reply anon :3 you sent this in the morning (for me) so i didn’t rlly get to sit down and answer but now that i’m here so! thank you for the free ‘gush pash’ you should totally tell me abt ur main dude too!!

err unfortunately i don’t think i will have inreresting stuff to say when it comes to these things, i don’t usually have longish posts bc i just let out my bits of hatred (love) for them everyday anyways... but recently i’ve been thinking a lot about childe (obviously. he’s my main-main f/o) and just imagining our life together and ITS SO AWFUL... theres bits of zhongli sprinkled in as well and then it gets 10x worse. i am convinced this old man will be the death of me (all the fanart of him smiling or blushing etc etc its getting to me and ruining my life)

even though i always talk about punching them exploding them whatever (its deserved) theyre both soooo so precious to me and ive loved them for ages now ^_^ i’m super excited for our anniversaries, esp mine with childe since its upcoming in a momth!! i love him so so so much (fine i’ll admit it) and he’s just super important to me... a huge comfort, he’s helped me a lot in the past 2.7? years i’ve known him — i love everything about him his lore his weird ass model his gameplay his animations his voice his quests and events and his art blah blah blah GOD i am so in love with my husband, even calling him that is enough to like fuck me up lool

if you don’t know about them (good) one is a 6,000+ year old god and the other is errr some top ranking member of an organization trying to. steal thingies from said gods... childe has tried to flood zl’s city but its okay i forgive him on zl’s behalf. um... theres a lot to get into, whatever, other than that they’re both very normal and very silly!!

[goldenboikuvasauce]

Backstory/personality of your oc/s, mylord?

This is the Most Question of all time. So I will be putting it under the cut LMAO. A lot of my Tenno were developed when Duviri was announced, but there were no details. I assumed it meant Tenno aged normally. Now that we have an explanation for Drifters these backstories are most likely going to be retconned. Most of my Tenno are adults now so they're more relatable to me (and I don't have to stomach child soldiers as much - it just makes me sad)

there's also a lot of canon divergence stuff just cos I like silly aus. I just like giving my actual warframe ocs reason behind sentience... I rather be a space meat robot than a kiddo.

and if anyone has been ao3 in 2021... some of these names and faces might be familiar... and you know of their many sins... please forgive everything being over the place. it's how my brain is wired and one can say wf ocs are my own personal brand of cocaine duviri

Group 1)

Antaeus, a confuzzled Tenno who woke up a lil too late with a serious case of amnesia. He appears to be in his mid 20s. He loves kavats, languages, and history. He's fluent in Corpus and Ostron and can read Grineer script easily. He's also very optimistic, playful and friendly - assuming that the biomechanical beings on the ship he woke up on are his roommates, not machines he's supposed to control.

K - My main Nidus 💕 He's broody and shy, but really he's touch starved. He loves sculpting and hates kavats and by extension, the resident Valkyr. Ironically, as he gets over the hatred, he ends up mutating a kavat like helmet (Nightstalker helmet my beloved). K is capable of speech, but his overly infested vocal chords make his voice sound raspy and rumbly. He speaks in short sentences or simply grunts for brevity. K usually speaks outloud just to insult Valk, but not much else. He is incapable of communicating with text and doesn't care for the group chat anyway.

Pneuma - My starter Mag. she's a lil cold and stern but is super caring underneath all that. She lost her left arm to a Bombard while trying to save a kubrow pup. She's extremely protective of everyone on the ship and is considered the resident mom friend because of that. Pneuma has a vocaliser, but with no Tenno transferenced in she does not speak. She instead communicates with blank stares that say 1000 words. She uses text otherwise, and is as articulated as one can be with one hand, or a parazon. She doesn't capitalise the start of sentences though.

Valkyr - She's a big herbo who loves Pneuma to bits. She also loves fishing, kavats, and treating Antaeus like a kavat kit even tho he's a grown man. She hates magnetic Eidolon water and K. She is capable of speech, though her vocal chords are hoarse and it's difficult to speak in longer sentences. She mainly uses her voice to hiss at K. Her talons stop her from typing quickly, but she's fond of kavat emojis. With a parazon her communication style is expressive. While her personality seems as primal as a motherly kavat who loves her wife so much, she has been able to express her level of intelligence and self reflection through personal logs that are recorded by the ship Cephalon.

Zippo - Nezha - He has the emotional maturity of a 12-14 yo, and he loves trying to cook and the Index. Valk found him wandering around by himself at a relay and just took him back to the ship. Zippo communicates in sign language, and a lot of emojis in text form - he has bad grammar and over uses punctuation for emphasis. His nickname was given to him by Nando as a bit of an insult (see group 3) when they were in an Index match together. Zippo, or Z, having a tiny infested brain, didn't catch it was supposed to be a jab at him, ended up liking it. Z's celebrity crush is John Prodman.

Xuron - Ship Cephalon - Initially assigned to monitoring Pneuma by Simaris, due to her sentience, Cephalon Xuron abandoned his precepts of investigation when Simaris wanted to synthesise Antaeus. Xuron moderates of the crew's group chat, which serves as a way for everyone to communicate with each other, at least until Tae learns to actually utilise transference. Xuron has had "software failures" that are more serious than Ordis' blurts - due to remembering traumatic experiences prior to being Glassed.

K's Helminth (not pictured cos they're an infested room) - After a traumatic event that had awakened K's sentience, Helminth had spawned their physical form from a self inflicted neck wound K had made in madness. Helminth has possessive nature over K, seeing him as an extension of themselves, and actively tries to sabotage any progress Antaeus makes towards transference. They see the tenno as a force that removes a warframe's free will. If it were up to Helminth, Antaeus would be dead and it would be Helminth and K, forever and ever...

...

Group 2)

Lissa - Lone Tenno. Lissa has lost control of most of her warframes with the exception of her Nekros Prime and she doesn't know why - but she knows it makes her violently ill at times. Because of this her cephalon had abandoned her. Despite all this she tries to be kind to those less fortunate than her, specifically the Solaris. She mainly resides in the Fortuna alleyways. She appears to be in her early 20s. She has a strong bond with Charon, and since he is the only frame she has left, she'd put her life on the line for him.

Charon - Lissa's Nekros Prime. Like any Nekros he enjoys grave robbing and dismembering enemies - he's honed his craft and can dismember very quickly and precisely. He's a hoarder who keeps his and Lissa's things in his Hey Kavat backpack, as well as his guts. He likes shiny things, pain, keeping his Mortus binds in a bow and painting his and Lissa's nails. He's in a situationship with K. Charon always had a low level of sentience, stemming from being protective over Lissa. The intense stew of raw emotion and happy brain chemicals being with K gives him had fully awakened Charon's hidden personality however. That and the cheeky lil cyst made of K's Helminth.

Blaze, a Red Veil operative and Railjack hire. He's also Lissa's ex boyfriend. The relationship was taboo under the Red Veil's rules, he ended the relationship when it got to his conscience. He is a devout Veil cultist and feels great guilt over "leading the Tenno astray" by courting Lissa when they were just love sick teens. He still deeply cares about Lissa, and wish she'd put herself first every now and then. He does not believe Charon is sentient, and is worried Lissa is projecting or experiencing delusions.

...

Group 3)

Nando, an obnoxious Tenno with a penchant for overspending and recreational substance use. He has a serious fear of the Infestation and refuses to do any missions that involve them. For this reason he sticks with more mechanical frames like Gauss, Zephyr Harrier, and Octavia. Nando appears to be in his early 20s and shares his orbiter with his lil "cousin" Max, who he's protective over despite being barely able to look after himself.

Mac - Nando's Gauss. After being infected by a Helminth cyst that was contracted from Charon (who contracted it from K), Mac developed enough sentience to hide the cyst from Nando. However, all the running into walls keeps Mac's probable IQ in the double digits. Nando eventually finds out and tries to scrub the cyst, but the damage had already been done. Mac has a singular braincell!!

Max, a young Tenno, who was only a toddler on the Zariman during the Void incident. Biologically, they are not related to Nando, but because they came from the same long dead tribe Nando calls Max his lil cousin as per custom. Max is still young, about 12-14 years old. They enjoy conservation and collecting floofs, and playing in the Index with Nando. The two share an Ash Shroud frame together, but Max mains Xaku (Nando was not going to step foot on Deimos to seek the parts out) and Equinox. Max is best friends with Zippo (but doesn't know that Zippo is actually a sentient warframe)

...

Group 4 - my more evil ocs lmao)

Sar - New Loka Tenno. She enjoys fashion (of frames and humans) and flowers. Her bubbly personality is a rouse however. She's well on her way to being the best assassin in the syndicate, happily purging those that are tainted and ruined - including other Tenno. She is in her 20s, and through meditation and guidance from Amaryn she makes sure to keep the Void from completely robbing her of her sanity.

Jase - Perrin Tenno. Jase was 17 during the Zariman incident. His huge stature let him assign himself as a leader among the children, and he lead the assault on those corrupted by the Void. Because of his role and readiness for combat, he was one of the first Tenno Lotus woke up. While the Somatic dream and transference freezes the body of a Tenno, Jase preferred hand to hand combat. This aged him over time, and as his biological clocks continues to tick he's at high risk of Void Corruption. He was recruited by the Perrin Sequence as brutish muscle to occasionally intimidate brokers into diplomacy.

Kaiju (Jase's Chroma - not pictured cos idk how to draw Chroma) Kaiju is a Chroma Jase forced Transference with. But as Jase slowly falls into Corruption, Kaiju regains his sentience and fights back for control. This results in catastrophic events, especially when Kaiju decides to murder and consume a Volt, Frost, Saryn and Ember Prime - in order to himself a Prime.

Sar's Trinity Prime , who's fashionframe was rightfully titled "the Harmacist" by a wf friend of mine (speaking of which he'd be traumatised if he saw the state of my blog rn). She has an all white colour palette, with the prime body and Strega helmet, and the eros wing ephemera. She enjoys luring unsuspecting victims to Kaiju for him to eat. Sar utilised her Trin in the meta ways often, and also has a killer DPS Tank build for Trin.

...

Group... Infested and Feral >¦3

Fester (Rhino) - Dumped in Deimos after his Tenno had reached mastery with him. The Grey Strain took over him, and gave him sentience. He is bonded with an infested Volt named Nux (my boyfriend @tethermaw's oc). Fester has crazy abandonment issues.

Xantho (Ash) - Initially a feral Ash maggot looking for a humanoid corpse to claim as a host, Xantho found a dead explorer in the isolation vaults. Unfortunately, a Saryn and Banshee maggot had the same idea, so Xantho had to fight them off for the cadaver. This resulted in the subsumation of Saryn's Molt and Banshee's Silence. As a full fledged feral frame, Xantho spent most of their days waiting for Tenno to open up vaults, just so they can sneak in and steal the goods. But now Xantho lives with one of my boyfriend's Nidus ocs, Plague 😊 Xantho is spoiled so much

Maprico (Feral Nidus) - mistaken for a tame cryptillex, Maprico was adopted as a maggot. Maprico had intended to kill and take over this person's body but found something much better. They got their namesake when they refused to eat kibble, and instead gorge on human food made with the bright orange fruit. However, when a thief broke into the home one night, Maprico tried to scare off the intruder with cute lil squeaks. The Intruder laughed then screamed, as Maprico had already pounced at the jugular. The next morning, Maprico is engorged with human flesh, preparing their host for metamorphosis.. Much to their person's dismay. Maprico eventually grew to the great height of 8ft as a full fledged Nidus, and was a much better guard. They went on to have many of their own maggots, who now inhabit the happy and safe settlement like their own nest.

Cage (Nidus - Maprico's spawn). Cage was a fiesty maggot, who bit one of the settlement's children in the arm when the child kept pestering them. The child had to have the arm amputated, and the little maggot was put in a timeout cage by Maprico. Cage gnawed at the bars and escaped.. to go nuzzle and apologise to the child. Years later, Cage grew alongside the child, who was now a teen. Cage was ready to search for a host, and when they were fully fledged they enhanced their friend's prosthetic with the Infestation. The two now work with Steel Meridian, the syndicate that helps protect the settlement.

Venous, an unranked Nidus that was built for one purpose: to be consumed by the Mouth Wall. Venous was next in line to be subsumed, after a Titania frame. Venous broke out the arsenal and into the infirmary to destroy the Chair. After escaping with the other frame, the two formed a close bond and are now inseparable. Venous is very feral and likes rotting grineer as their energy source

Caelus, an unranked Titania that was built only to be subsumed. Venous broke Caelus free from the Chair and together they escaped. Caelus, despite being a Titania, quickly presented more masculine to distance himself from the prime fae frame that took his place. With Venous, Caelus attempts to learn his abilities through clumsy trial and error.

...

more or less civilised ocs

Axenic - A Nidus that works as a Perrin Sequence mercenary. Axenic was an unnamed and unknown Nidus captured by the Corpus. They were tortured, lobotomised, and vivisected so the scientists could experiment with the Helminth strain of the infestation, as well as an attempt to copy its chrysalis system and Tenno warframe maintenance procedures. They were dubbed Axenic, as they were brutally scrubbed and sterilised. The experiments resulted in Axenic losing the passive healing, Larva and Ravenous abilities, which where replaced with Ensnare and Eclipse. Axenic was eventually bought/emancipated by the Perrin Sequence, and the upkeep of Axenic's functions are supported by the syndicate. This involves supplying Axenic with a shield capacitor, aggressive painkillers and high octane stimulants. In terms of personality, The Axenic Nidus has none. At least that's what they portray. Internally, Axenic mourns they can not cultivate their own Infestation and parthenogenise their own maggots, that choice was taken from them.

Axenic's mercenary work leads them to becoming a bodyguard for Latrox Une in the Cambion Drift, as he films nature documentaries and enjoys studying the Infestation with funding from the Entrati. This leads to Axenic protecting Une from an attack from Fester and Nux, and as Axenic links to Fester, they contract a part of the Grey Strain that mutates Axenic enough to have a form of reproduction again. With some enthusiastic experimentation and vigorous testing with Une the two discover the reproduction is allogamous. It is still ineffective and Axenic has only been able to produce one living spawn and has no interest in utilising this in combat. Axenic now takes in maggots often abandoned by their progenitors, and teaches them how to assimilate with Tenno without raising suspicions about being unmanned.

Jnr. - A hybridized Nidus, and Axenic's only spawn. Jnr. was a very weak maggot and lived most of this life stage in intensive care in Une's lab/home. Junior is more learned and academic than your average feral maggot, but of course he lacks the basic survival instincts or "street smarts". In that way it is a blessing that after his metamorphosis he maintained a more humanoid appearance (at least in silhouette) as he can fit in normal humanoid attire and attend Perrin board meetings on an operative suit. However, Junior didn't feel like he was making much of a change at a desk, and snuck off to join Steel Meridian despite his progenitor's values. He feels more at ease among defectors and freedom fighters with prosthetics and other chronic disabilities. He meets Cage, who easily detects him as another Nidus despite his (adorable) defector disguise. Cage keeps his secret, and the two occasionally hold hands, because Junior's Link ability sprouts from his palms. Axenic eventually finds out about Junior joining an enemy syndicate, and upon seeing the bond Junior had made with Cage Axenic makes no comment on the topic. The equivalent of acceptance. And when Axenic has the equivalent of wallet photos of Junior's and Cage's own maggots, that can only be seen as familial pride and approval.

..

Group "they're from the red veil so they're unhinged but that's their normal"

Phryke (Nidus) + Dyanta were created my boyfriend @tethermaw but I develop them too.

When kids act up, parents warn them that a particular Nidus Phryke will eat them for being bratty and ungrateful. And it's true, Phryke did eat a bratty kid - his own Tenno Operator. He only ended up regretting it when the transference bolt he was built with was becoming a literal pain in the neck, so loitered around in RJ groups hoping he could steal some Tenno for himself, maybe there were older operators who weren't annoying pieces of shit... Then he met Dyanta.

Dyanta wasn't always part of the Red Veil. He had been harvesting and selling organs since he was a child, roped into the scheme to pay off his shelved father's debts. He was able to pay it off, and as an occupational perk he was allowed to stay in mostly one piece, and when he made it to adulthood he got free gender affirmation surgeries on the house. But when the operation was busted Dyanta's employers left him on the operating table to escape and Dyanra was literally arrested with his pants down. During his incarceration he shared a cell with a cannibalistic cultist named Grun, who he found enigmatic and so magnetic.. He was initiated into the Red Veil by him and when they broke out together and went their seperate ways, Dyanta formally joined the cult. Due to the secrecy of the Veil, Dyanta wasn't able to get back in contact with Grun, but he couldn't stop thinking about him. He kept himself busy by becoming a Railjack defender for hire. During one mission, Dyanta was struck by a void storm bolt just as Phryke was about to jump and protect him from the blast. When Phryke got up, Dyanta had disappeared... accidentally transferenced into Phryke. Being more than compatible, Phryke decided that Dyanta was going to be his Operator. There were bonuses for Dyanta too. He went from being mostly illiterate (he could only read and write HEART, LUNG, KIDNEY, LIVER, in Corpus) to being able to read Orokin text within milliseconds. He also has Phryke to blurt out his thoughts (without his permission), which can be helpful in some situations, like when he reunited with Grun.

Grun was the only son in the middle of 7 sisters, born and raised on Mars in a Red Veil resistance that fought off the Grineer. Grun was trained in the ways of espionage, and the art of cleansing evil from the system - by consuming the flesh of enemies. After Grun failed to properly conceal an assassination attempt he was arrested and charged for multiple counts of terrorism. Someone in the higher ups, a Red Veil spy, had more plans for Grun and turned Grun's solitary confinement into an executioner's room, where a starved Grun would be made to kill and eat some of the prisoners to keep numbers low. Dyanta was thrown in this cell, and when finding Grun was chained up, emaciated and covered in years old blood, Dyanta snuck in food and water for Grun. The two ended up falling for one another without realising, Grun scarified a Red Veil insignia into Dyanta's wrist, and they planned an escape. Grun found the Red Veil plant that trapped him in that cell with no real food or water. He killed them in a "cleansing fire", as subjecting him and others to such conditions was indication of corrupted power. He took the ashes back to his splinter. He was praised for the cleansing, but for killing one of his own he was to take a vow of anonymity. Grun could never speak outloud, contact his family, or show his face to anyone ever again. It didn't stop him from working or basic socialisation, as he could still use sign language and encrypted text to communicate. But when he found Dyanta again, he broke the vow of anonymity, just for him (and Phryke).

I didn't mean to write so much about these three but grunyata has been rotting my and my bf's brain for 2 whole years.

Phryke and Grun have done some Real Red Veil """studies""" together, and the results gave them two groups of maggos.

the first clutch was an accident, Phryke dispelled them hoping they'd attack and blow up some Corpus as Ravenous maggots would. That didn't quite happen. Instead only three maggots ran amuck, and did attack but refused to blow up, even when Phryke tried to squish em with a Virulence (dad of the year!) They ran away from the ability and played a game of hide and seek with Phryke (Dyanta was cracking up in his head)

Rakta was the first maggot to find a body, to inhabit among the ruckus. When Phryke tried to pull Rakta away from the body Rakta protested and bit him. Phryke tried to squish Rakta for this but these maggots seem to be made of ooblek lmao. So Phryke decided to just try to extract without em, like a parent starting to leave a toy store cos their child won't listen. Rakta threw a tantrum about this and demanded to be carried back to the orbiter. WITH the body.

the line "I dont think that corpus is my son" is so funny to me. (excuse the discord grammar)

Rakta is named as such as they have an obsession with playing in Phryke's arsenal. They also don't really care about anything else, just guns and cookie dough.

here's another discord screenshot that makes me laugh still

Phryke is truly dad of the year.

The poor lil maggot in question is named Blight. They were half way through their metamorphosis when the Corpus attempted to extract them. This resulted in them having very thin transparent membrane skin, a loss of fangs.. baby Blight wasn't doing too good. Grun did his best to help Blight, by wrapping them up with his kevlar scarf, cutting small lil giblets for them, but he could only do so much. Grun took Blight back to Phryke, and Phryke let Blight crawl under his stacks to heal. After this Blight was good as new, but a lot more wary about being left alone. (just a baby... a little baby...)

unfortunately I have run out image slots...

Taurus + 9 living spawn

While initially retrieving Blight, Grun came across the final maggot to escape Phryke's parenting. This maggot was the biggest, well on their way into melding with their host, and shared Phryke's huge horns. Grun hid them in a hard to reach vent, hoping they won't have the same fate Blight experienced.

Years later, Blight and Rakta have gotten antsy about being babied, ready to go out on their own.. Phryke didn't expect to be hit with empty nest syndrome, since he always disliked children. He didn't realised he enjoyed this weird parenthood of licking cookie dough off Blight, wrestling an Ignis out of Rakta's inquisitive hands. Mostly keeping them out of trouble.. It made him wonder what it would have been like, coming into the world the way his spawn did. And it made him wonder.. where was his third spawn...? Did they survive...?

...

I would continue but not being able to share more drawings makes me so sad 😭 So I've reached the end of my rope with writing this all out, my boyfriend said I might even end up finding the word limit on a tumblr post!

There are a few more OC's.. most lack names (I tend to name my OC's after the cosmetics they don, because most of them have such nice names) There is also a current warframe concept I'm working on but development is mostly kept private for now.

[rottenomelet]

“Tomioka-san! Tomioka-san!”

The familiar call of his name makes the water pillar turn around. He pauses in his place, allowing Tanjiro to catch up with him.

As he jogs, the boys earrings bounce and sway. He’s never seen Tanjiro fight but he’s always wondered how much those earrings move when he uses breathing techniques. Water breathing, in particular, has a lot of bodily twists and turns so he should be correct in assuming that Tanjiro’s hanafuda earrings also twist and turn with him. Though, he supposes that the only way to know for sure is to actually see Tanjiro fight, but Giyuu doubts that will be happening anytime soon. They don’t really work together after all, as their ranks are so different.

“Tomioka-san!” Tanjiro repeats his name a third time as he finally reaches Giyuu. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

Giyuu fucking hates small talk.

It’s dull, boring, and useless. No one actually cares about how you’re doing and no one actually gives a real answer. You could be having the worst day of your life but if someone were to ask ‘How have you been lately?’, you would say ‘Fine, fine, and you?’. Nothing gets accomplished, no one is satisfied.

So, yes Giyuu hates small talk but he doesn’t hate small talk quite so much when it’s with Tanjiro.

Tanjiro, oddly enough, actually does give a fuck about whatever answer you give him. If you tell Tanjiro that you’ve been having a bad day, he’ll sit you down and have an hour-long conversation about the importance of maintaining self-happiness.

Giyuu thinks about his answer for a moment. “I’ve been good. And you?”

Tanjiro’s eyes light up as he jumps into a spiel about finetuning Hinokami Kagura, the Boar Boy discovering his new favorite food, and how much Nezuko’s hair is growing. Giyuu finds conversations like these wholly unnecessary and would usually disappear ten seconds into the interaction. But, with Tanjiro, he finds himself standing still and listening and observing.

He’s always observing, even now. He watches Tanjiro’s hand move and form shapes as he narrates a story about his crow. How the occasional gust of wind blows those short, wine-colored strands into his eyes, and watches the boy unconsciously tuck those tufts behind his ear again. Watches him lick those deep red lips every once in a while to moisten them after talking for so long.

It’s strange how red Tanjiro is. That deep, near sinful shade of red wine that colors his eyes, hair, and lips. Giyuu’s caught himself staring at those lips more times than he’s comfortable with admitting. He looks at those lips, those lips that seem deeply flushed, as though they’re already kiss-bitten and swollen, and thinks, ‘If he’s so red and pretty here, then what will the rest of him look like?’

And well, the only way he’ll find out is to see it.

…

Rengoku rarely, if ever, finds himself speechless.

It’s not that he loves the sound of his own voice, or that he feels like his every thought needs to be articulated. No, he simply hates silence. And the only way to end silence is noise, so he often finds himself being the first to talk or laugh or joke.

-

(a little excerpt from my first hashira/tanjiro fic that is still in the works. basically, the pillars are simps and tanjiro is a sweet oblivious boy.

giyuu: intensely staring at tanjiros lips and thinking about what he would look like naked.

tanjiro: tomioka-san is so nice :D! i wish he would respond to my letters D:! but he’s probably just busy :D!

(can u tell that i think tanjiro is the :D emoticon?)

i like to believe that tomioka thinks a lot but he just doesn’t feel the need to articulate everything. similarly, rengoku also doesn’t like to say everything that comes to mind but his hatred for silence outweighs his discomfort. which is unlike giyuu who doesn’t care about sitting in silence for hours, if need be.)

[silenttale22]

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND /PJM/ - Chapter 3

Summary: Someone once told her she had to learn to live in pieces as there would be nobody to glue them up. But what if a person with similar pieces to her appears? What if by complete coincidence her crying is heard in the middle of the night? What if together they can create a whole new masterpiece? Dancer!Jimin x Student!Reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slice of life. hurt/comfort, Soulmate!AU, SchoolAU Warnings: SH, a lot of self-blame

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 2/CHAPTER 3/CHAPTER 4

You stared in grief and disappointment at the beloved mug you had gotten from him for Christmas two years back. The last and most important souvenir was lying broken beneath the feet as the back was pressing harder onto the cabinet, sitting curled up in a corner of the kitchen furniture. And the hatred towards yourself became even stronger.

Once again, cheeks were ornamented with invisible paths, where drops flowed freely and dripped onto the icy tiles, slowly forming a tiny puddle. You pulled up your legs under your chin hiding a heartbroken face in your knees. It felt like losing everything you cared about because of the damned clumsiness that was haunting you.

And you were slowly sick of it.

You wished to scream, to hit something near around you but nothing like that came. Only a few second spent on the ground, digging nails into the naked skin of your legs made you came up with another idea of shaking the pain and anger out.

With barely a breath, pick yourself up from the cold floor and leave the kitchen with a wobbly walk, not even worrying about the pieces of glass sticking into your bare feet. You made a way to the bathroom, desperately seeking around for some relief.

And finally you turned on the bath tap and set it to the hottest temperature to get your arms wet there. The hot water actually burned your skin, but did you care about it? Non even a bit. You only took longer to hold hands under the boiling water to give yourself a little pain.

It was your own fault.

Everything was.

As you were always the first one to get scolded and punished for things you've never done - the habit of collecting scorn on back was something usual. And as you didn't want to end the tradition so you kept punishing yourself.

Years ago you was about to say that old habits won't come back to you. That he was your helping hand and with it you're finally became completely fine. But it was until he left, left so unexpectedly leaving your heart break, and your body on the cold surface of life. Even If you know he never meant that, your heart is still missing. And when everything around was doing great, moving forward your time stopped. It's all became more like surviving than living, and you hate that, yet it was hard for you to change anything.

And after loss, the only thing you wanted to do was scream, yet voice was stuck deep down your throat. There was this heartbreak and disbelief that threw you in every possible corner, not knowing which one would be keen on listening to your coming back cries. Goodbyes still stay on your tongue, but the thought that you're not going to say it out loud get to you every time. And it's so, so hard to hold back this sharp pain inside.

It took long minutes until you turned off the water and curled up on the bathroom rug, looking terrified at your hands. Delicate red stripes decorated now usually soft, delicate skin. More and more, this feeling that everything was weighing you down lingered to you unpleasantly, but after all, you wanted to be able to cope all alone. Without anyone's help.

But here, life was slowly getting out of control, and as it was normal for you. Even if a little bit of hope sometimes wandered through your mind. Yet…for the past year, balancing life and death has become a favorite thing to do. You couldn't help but feel damn good about doing yourself something harmful.

This was another time as you did it. It's happened to you really often lately, definitely more often than it should have. But not only the harm was something, that linger to you but also the sleepless nights. It was so often when the middle of the night, you were falling out off the couch, unable to catch a breath, because inside your dreams someone would tighten their hands around neck, making you lose consciousness. Sometimes even you did it to yourself. As you tried to drown into the bathtub, wishing for slow, suffering death. 

And again, all you could do was blame yourself for this. After all, it was your destructive thoughts that drove so many times to the last edge of life, from which you managed to miraculously jump away at the ending moment. 

You were lost, no longer able to find even a part of your happy self.

Raising eyes high, and looking into the empty, dark space spreading behind the open bathroom door. Unpleasant pain went down your spine, so a quiet whine left lips right away. Only after a while, you  eventually got up to the feet, pressing palms tightly to your chest before moving to the living room. So you just found a regular spot like every evening. Always sitting here alone, because you couldn't count on anyone. Why would you though, when everyone around became distant or busy with themselves.

But that's what you wanted, right? Being alone. 

On that night, you didn't even find the strength to open all these books waiting for you to study line by line again. So simply sitting up all night and staring at the emptiness in front of you seemed like an amazing idea. You didn't realize that for a good hour, someone had been sitting at the door of your apartment, gently tapping with fingers onto the wooden door. Hesitating, arguing with himself, not knowing if a knock would be, indeed, the right thing to do. 

At the end, he let the thought go, and headed off in the direction of his apartment. Worrying all night that he left you crying alone without anyone around. 

The next day, this time around five o'clock, the alarm rang. But this morning it was completely useful, you didn't need it at all. You were pretty quick to get on your feet, ignoring the pain in your spine from the constant uncomfortable sitting. As you set off to the kitchen, a weird feeling filled with loneliness hugged you, but as usual you brushed it off. 

Little sniff left, while rubbing those tired eyes -  trying once again not to cry. After all, you've been doing this all night, you should be running out of things to cry about by now. 

Coldness in the kitchen welcomed you as a good friend, with its bleak walls and bleached cupboards. You grabbed a broom, and picked up a gray cup with a small teddy bear hugging a red heart that had been smashed on the floor. Another tear dropped onto the floor together with the curse from your lips, as the tearing eyes were blurring your sight. At the end, you tossed everything into the trash with a tight pain in heart hoping that maybe it would give some kind of relief.

It didn't.

So you took only some sips of water in the kitchen, and moved to get dressed. Pulling basic black sweats over your legs, wrapping hands in a thick layer of bandages just to prevent some from hurting at work, and at the end put a thick dark gray sweatshirt over your head. 

Baggily and raggedly  - amazing look. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at the clock hanging in the living room. Slowly running out of time to leave the apartment and not miss the bus, which you found most comfortable to take to reach the factories owned by the city, giving the only place where you could work as a student.

But eventually, you left the apartment with a bag in your teeth and halfly put on a jacket, as you fixed your attention on something behind the window, forgetting to look at the clock. So as you managed to jump on the bus on time stress was driving you crazy, and heart pounded fast into chest. Only the landscapes behind the window were calming your heart rate, as you found one place at the back of the bus. Sun was rising slowly, spilling on the sky with hues of warm colours, warming your soul a little bit as well.

As you jump out of the bus, the colder than into the city temperature quickly wrapped around you, so hugging yourself with hands, you walked into the fabric to begin your shift. 7a.m. popped on the clock when a high-visibility waistcoat was on your back instead of a jacket - you were perfectly on time. But as you came deeper into the magazines, the usual heavy stares of older men were driving you crazy. 

This shitty rule that a woman can't carry heavy boxes, or in general shouldn't even leave her home for work, and do as some housewife. But if you really want it so much, like really just want to work to provide for yourself - should walk around in skimpy clothes as a waitress and allow everyone to be touched on the back of the body. Fucking human backwardness, where most women still have no right to their own self-expression.

How pathetic.

With a quick step, you reached the right section, where you met with a brief smile from the boy you use to have shifts. And who was most probably the only one here that was…well, tolerating you. Showing up a little bit of sympathy. He was the same age as you, or at least that's what you could understand when you've been talking to each other from time to time during short breaks. This week, his hair was more like an oxidized blond color, but you could have sworn that just a few days ago it was a pure gray. 

On the first day, he introduced himself as Christopher, saying he was born in Australia, but had moved to Korea with his family, and that's how you both end up in here together, moving cardboard boxes to the appropriate shelves or marked trucks.

The work itself wasn't that hard, especially when you used to do it for some time now, but for you today became extremely impossible to bear, as arms burned mercilessly from yesterdays 'fun' even if so many bandages were around them. And the blond-haired man noticed more than once that there was a grimace of pain and exhaustion on his friend's face. So Chris tried really hard to help you if only no one was watching, always taking the cardboard boxes out of your hands and quickly carrying them to the right places. And you may never have said it out loud, but you were damn grateful to him even if on your face there was a big disagreement. 

When it was time for a twenty-minute break, both of you got to the small cafeteria. You pulled up the sleeves to see if there's something wrong with the bandages, but they were still tightly wrapped around arms. And it made you concerned a bit, because usually after burning the pain should not last so long.

With your head full of thoughts, after finding yourself a place at the distant corner, you sat down at the empty table only to hide face in hands and left a loud huff. Chatters were loud inside your mind.

Trying to finally get all bearings and push them onto the outer corner of the mind seemed impossible, and furthermore, attempting to silence the rumbling stomach that had already been grumbling about the lack of nourishment for a while proved to be a hassle.

Another rumble coming from your stomach caused you to groan, yet as if out of thin air, a steaming dish appeared before your eyes. Head spun at the amazing smell that came to your nostrils, and the pleasant warmth of the steam hugged your face. Surprised, you raised your head to see a tired face with a gentle smile and a small dimple on the right cheek. 

A quiet 'enjoy' came to your ears from Chris when he took a spot across from you, but his eyes were still on you. 

“You're not going to eat?” his question snapped you back to reality, as you instead of getting on with eating the surely delicious dakgejang, kept staring at him in disbelief.

And you simply didn't know what to do. Whether should croak out a silent - thank you - or whether should nonetheless throw your arms around his neck in thanks since this was the first time in more than a year that someone had bought her food despite her grumpy behaviour. And it made you happy in some way. Because damn, it was so rare to meet people being kind from nowhere. 

But eventually, you decided on the former and with a trembling voice thanked him for the meal and began to chew the dish slowly.

“You're not used to this, right?” his voice sounded again, asking gently. Another time bringing you a lot of confusion.

“What do you mean?” you wanted to sound as soft as him, but only an unpleasant croak left your throat.

“To someone trying to help” eyes widened, and you couldn't look at him. So the rest of the break was silent.

His gaze falling on your face was no longer discomforting, and his presence through such a small gesture made the warmth you once knew so well spill inside. It was nice to feel what it was like to have a friend again. Even though it was no big deal in this case.

“Sometimes it's better to ask for help, than suffer alone mate” you heard Chris speaking up, as he stood up and with a smile ran quicker, to move more cartoons and make the job easier for you. 

And you couldn't lie, that it almost made you tear up. Not only his acts, but his words. Because you've always been taught to get everything done by yourself as there is no one to help you. 

Work finished at ten-thirty today, and you were overtaken by momentary joy when the notification about the canceled classes at the university popped up on your phone screen. But after a while, you were surprised again when, as being already heading to the bus stop, Christopher caught you right on time, to invite you for a warm tea with lemon and ginger at a nearby café. 

It was pleasant doing something different than getting back to the empty apartment and being welcomed only by the always opened books. And for all that with Chris it seemed much more comfortable than with people you used to know for years…with someone so called your friend. You're rather laughing about something stupid with him, than looking at people who bite their tongue trying not to ‘hurt your feelings’. You don't want pity, never wanted to be treat like an egg. The words as “It will be okay” prompt you even more to cut all the ties and live alone.

So the small meeting like that brush up the moments, when you really liked going out. With not really a close friends, but at least leaving four wall for a while to forget the shitty things going on inside your head. 

You had spent a good two hours together with boy, and to tell the truth, you were more than glad that you agreed. You were again - for a while, able to get away from the stress that was building up on all sides. To forget about the aching pain inside your chest.

But it wasn't for long.

On your way back to the apartment, all the negativity of life was back. Body starts to hurt again, and so does your soul. It was hard for you to get straight to the apartment. As you reached the door, the only thing you could do was dragging yourself down the hallway, just to trip again on the bloody carpet. So you lay in the living room for a while, playing with the protruding threads. Eventually, sitting down on the obviously dented couch. Hoping for a moment that at least tonight the evening would be a quiet one.

In fact, you spent that whole night pondering over the books, since anyways, you had to go to lectures tomorrow and show off the knowledge that you've been gaining every freaking night. Or at least that's what you're always planning for yourself.

In the end, you'll probably be too tired to raise a hand to come forward and answer a question from a professor delivering his well-planned lecture about dangerous social diseases for humans. It's funny that you could talk about some of them completely freely, even giving examples from your life, but even if a case like that would appear, you'd never dared to do so.

[mxllitiam]

@fatefought sent five times flirted:   ( five times effie flirted with haymitch ) 

one.

it's the 70th.

effie waits by the elevador doors, perfectly manicured hands tapping out a rhythm to ward off boredom against the wall. their stylist has come and helped her with the last touches on her outfit, a pompous orange dress that sheds its boa feathers every once in a while. she's accidentally spread a couple of them throughout the kitchen of their tower floor.

"we're going to be late!" she calls out under a roll of her eyes. there's a distant grumble that she thinks might be haymitch responding from another room.

and then, at last, he emerges. the stylist has definitely been the one responsible for this party's outfit, because he walks out sporting a maroon suit, mostly unbuttoned, with no shirt underneath. it's a look. it's strange to see him in such capitol-like attire when she knows what he wears on his days off, but he still looks undeniably good. she's only being objective about it! she has eyes.

a wolfish grin graces her lips and she raises her eyebrows. "oh, someone cleans up nice." her voice is a tease, something much more comfortable than the previous year, when they were still on terribly bad terms. she's decided to make the experience pleasant for both of them, this time, and she's been forcing some kind of friendship towards the mentor. and she'll force it until it sticks. "come on, we're going to be late."

if he notices, he doesn't make a comment on how she walks a bit too hastily away from his exposed chest, flushed cheeks thankfully hidden by the layers of makeup.

two.

it's the 70th, again.

effie usually doesn't drink -- the irony is not lost on her. tonight is one of the nights she does. caesar has thrown a party to celebrate the beginning of the game season this year, certainly an empty excuse just to party with the rest of his little friends. he made sure to invite all of the escorts, mentors and stylists, leaving the tributes out of it, this time.

and he made sure to invite about half of her exes, too.

she wouldn't be so self-centered to imagine this was done on purpose, but oh, wasn't it? downing a few champagne flutes is the least she can do to bare the rest of this evening.

it's luck (maybe bad luck, for him) that haymitch ends up in her line of sight and she walks to him decidedly. countless champagne glass is forgotten by one of the tables on her way and she straightens her back and fluffs up her wig as she reaches him.

with calculation, a hand is placed on his upper arm and her voice is sickeningly sweet when she asks, "will you dance with me?"

he doesn't. rightfully so, he never lets her live this one down.

three.

it's the 71st.

she knows well, by now, that haymitch hates these capitol parties. she's starting to see the bad side of them too, after hearing one too many drunken late night rants from him. he's drunk a lot of the time, but she doesn't blame him for leaning on substances when his hatred for parties runs this deep. she'd gotten her share of this poison last year, when she'd famously made a fool of himself to him.

the thing is, they usually stay away from each other in these things. she has other escorts to chat with, and sponsors that she has to butter up. it's decidedly easier to let her voice get all high-pitched and her eyelashes bat cutely at some old prunes when she doesn't have haymitch's judging eyes anywhere near her performances. this night, they end up converging (it will become a thoughtless habit to do so, after this year).

he's drunk, as usual. he seems to sway at his feet, which effie is unsure is actually happening or if she's just predicting his balance to worsen as the night goes on. she puts hands on his shoulders to steady him, steady herself. 

"you look good tonight," she offers, genuine, knowing he probably won't remember this in the morning. she's been increasingly more honest with him when he's like this, and he's never seemed to make a comment on it the next mornings, at least. her hands move over to fix his tie, a wistful sigh leaving her chest. "you look a little bit better sober, though."

she pats his chest with a smile and moves away again.

four.

it's the 72nd.

one could say effie trinket seems elated to be a part of the games at all, and that would mostly be true, except for this. the cursed caesar interviews. he is no ex-lover of hers, there is nothing to write home about there, but it's still incredibly uncomfortable to be grilled by him about her tributes every year. it might the worst part of her job, she thinks. of course sending kids off to slaughter might be worse but that's customary. part of the job description. it doesn't count.

her stomach is in knots as she stands in the wings of the stage, an unusual feeling for the usually so camera-ready escort. last year had been particularly bad for twelve, everyone has been waiting for a repeat of that. oh, how she hates them, making a laughing stock of these poor kids.

"stand still," she orders impatiently, and clicks her tongue in despair at the shoe that threatens to slip off her heel again. haymitch is there, waiting to be interviewed right after her, their big piece for this year's pre-games tv showing. she leans a hand onto his shoulder for balance and reaches down to fix her high heels into place.

he complies, begrudgingly. she thinks it must be amusing to him, to see her so out of her comfort zone, so at least someone is having fun. she stands upright when she fixes the high heels back into place, but her hand stays on his shoulders, her hold a tight squeeze as she looks down at her feet and tests out the newly adjusted step.

when she looks back up, they're standing so close. her hand lingers, even if her hold lightens.

she can see the lines on the corners of his eyes from this close, and the faint marking of the one dimple on his cheek that only shows up when he laughs. a rare sighting. he should laugh more. his hair is overgrown and terribly overdue for a cut, but she likes it like this (not that she has said it out loud). it curls over his forehead wildly and the stylists have given up on trying to slick it back. he looks handsome. in a natural way, domestic -- like it's a reminder that he doesn't need all of that capitol bullshit to make him look like this.

she gives into impulse when her hand reaches out to the alluring hairs that curl on the nape of his neck. it's fascination, and something else, maybe. she feels the strands between her fingertips and hums curiously. for someone who lives such a fast-paced high-stress existence like effie, these slow moments of stillness are uncommon.

a producer comes by to tell her it's time to go on stage and she snaps herself out of the haze.

"wish me luck!" is all she tells him, stepping out of the wings before she can hear if he responds.

five.

it is the 73rd.

their tributes are dead. they died yesterday, at the bloodbath. they couldn't run fast enough. effie didn't watch, as usual, but it still makes her feel sick enough to spend the rest of the day holed up in her room.

she decides to rejoin haymitch the next evening, looking for a distraction. it's not the first time they lose tributes like this, so early in the game, but it doesn't get easier. it gets harder, effie thinks with increasing frustration, that year after year, there's nothing they can do to help these kids win. even when they're doing their best.

they sit on the couch side by side, there's a shared bottle of something alcoholic passing between them. they're close enough that their shoulders almost brush together, and she thinks this is much more pleasant than staying in her room alone. the screen in front of them is black, mirroring their images back at them. she hasn't bothered with much makeup today, knowing she'd just be staying in their tower floor, but there's still a wig on her head, as expected.

it's itchy. she's kind of tired of it. she sighs, tipping her head back, lazily adjusting her hair so that it cascades over the back of the couch instead. "it's weird that we have to stay here after we already lost them," she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed. she doesn't mind staying, she's grown used to the familiar buzz of the games every year, she prefers it to the loneliness of her apartment the rest of the year. but she imagines haymitch hates it. "would you rather be at twelve right now?"

an answer doesn't come immediately, so her head rolls to the side to peek at him through half-lidded eyes. his gaze is on her throat, before it meets her eyes.

the air buzzes around her, suddenly filled with electricity. she swallows whatever words almost formed on her tongue. the mood was something lazy and foggy before, now it feels heavy with a tension she can't pull away from. her heart throws itself into a race in her chest, and she can't help that in the silence that settles between them, she is leaning in, eyes flickering down to his lips.

she can't remember the last time she was in a moment this charged, where every one of her nerves are firing in every direction, desire burning at her fingertips, but. but he's haymitch, and she's effie. they couldn't be more different from each other and just a few years ago they spent more time at each other's throats than being amicable in any way. and yet, for a moment, she's convinced she's never wanted anything this badly.

this is ridiculous.

she must be making a fool of herself again.

she pulls away, sudden, and gets up from the couch faster than she can clear her own throat. "goodnight!" she declares loudly, heels clacking on the ground as she makes a quick walk to her bedroom.

she makes to about halfway on the hallway before she turns back around.

"i hate you," is the last thing she says before she's rejoining him on the couch and crashing their lips together.

[cardinalhope]

hello it is so late right now but I woke up in a violent idea and just.. :anguish:

Schizophrenia can be caused by a lot of genetic properties, but another thing that can cause schizophrenia is childhood isolation + neglect .

It was stated in canon that Hunter was severely isolated and not allowed to mingle and associate a lot with the other recruits of the emperors coven- it would make him impure and more susceptible to the early stages of corruption and defiance , so being isolated for so long in his years , ritually abused by the only constant he’s know - and having threats on his life almost constantly ? I think it’s safe to say he has a little bit of the schitz

I imagine his schizophrenia manifests more in aggression , and paranoia rather than hallucinations, and when they do manifest - it is more audio than visual.

His paranoia manifests in the idea of people being able to read his thoughts , or knowing what he’s doing at all time even if he is away from them, especially heightened with the idea of belos being told things from the titan, so it leads into a spiral of ‘ oh belos knows what I’ve done Because the titan told him ‘ which ends up with a lot of self sacrifice and owning up to his mistakes or defiance

His aggression manifests usually in self hatred and harm rather than outward, but he has been known to lash out on people, but never really cause physical harm, rather than saying things he doesn’t quite mean

Audible hallucinations end up with footsteps , whistling primarily from flapjack , belos calling his name , ringing , someone else’s breathing and tapping noises.

Visual hallucinations end up mostly being shadow like creatures or formations in the corner of his eyes.

[jackdup]

INFO

Name: Timothy Lawrence Jack Handsome Jack Timothy Lawrence

Aliases: Timmy, Tim, Timmo

Age: Late 30s/Early 40s (main verse) [became Jack’s body double at age 23]

Gender: Male (he/him)

Romantic/sexual orientation: Pansexual

Eye color: Right eye blue; left eye green (heterochromia)

Hair color: Brunet with gray streaks

Height: 5’11”

Occupation: Part-time Jack impersonator; full-time life-ruiner (of his own life, to be clear)

Abilities: Acting (specifically as Handsome Jack, which basically just means he’s good at pretending to be a complete chode), combat (not the best with his aim, so typically resorts to pistols or shotguns and stays in close range; he still has his wristband that summons Digi-Jacks, but he uses it as infrequently as possible and typically only as a last resort)

Notable physical traits: Looks exactly like Handsome Jack (otherwise there’d be no point to the whole “body double” thing) down to the actual scar on his face hidden beneath the famous mask. Said mask is now cracked after seven years trapped in the rough and tumble environment of the Handsome Jackpot casino (Timothy hasn’t bothered to fix it). His right hand is a prosthetic created for him by Atlas after his escape from the casino. Covered with plenty of scars from bullet wounds and the like, all typically concealed beneath his clothes. (Note: In his main verse, Tim typically is wearing some sort of hood + face cover in public environments, as walking around looking like Handsome Jack isn’t exactly safe. He also is typically not donning the Handsome Jack mask; his scar is immediately visible.)

Personality:

Cynical, sarcastic, basically done with everyone’s shit (including his own). Might’ve been a lot more timid once upon a time, but that ship has sailed and more or less just comes out as what the kids call “cringe.” (He’s awkward; that’s all you need to know.) Timmy is sassy without Jack’s help, though the need to impersonate him has made that meter skyrocket. Frankly, whatever person Tim happened to be before his surgery to become Jack is irrelevant: both because he isn’t that guy anymore and because he just . . . cannot remember who that guy was.

The good news: Tim has a much more stable moral compass than most people he’s met (and definitely way better than Jack’s).

The bad news: Tim’s behavior is still directly and indirectly affected by all the acting, so there’s plenty of dickish things that come out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

To put it simply, he’s like a watered-down version of Handsome Jack . . . and he hates it (the “being a version of Jack” part, not the “watered-down” part—God forbid). He’s not full of himself—and actually rather despises himself—but his filters that may have once been in place to avoid hurt feelings are definitely long gone: Timmy will usually state his opinion (and judgment) on something without hesitation, no matter how rude it sounds. It’s like . . . if he can weather his own self-criticism and hatred, other people should be able to handle it directed at them, too. (Not to mention he’s pretty sure any of those aforementioned judgments are 100% valid and should be judged if no one has judged them yet.)

Of course, the one good thing he could’ve achieved from Jack would’ve been confidence and swag. Wouldn’t that have been nice—? Except, no: any and all of that side of things has always been and will always be acting. Tim has a low opinion of himself (spawned from more than just the whole “being Jack” gig, and too deep-seated to go into right now), and what ladies (and men and everything in-between or outside) may see as “charm” is manufactured from a lot of training to pull off a convincing Handsome Jackhole. Consider him naked and afraid beneath that facade; he’s prone to devolving into a fit of nervous babbling that’s barely comprehensible when faced with . . . certain situations (or certain people). But he’s learned how to jump back to his feet again.

. . . and again and again and again—

Oh god, please let him rest.

History:

So, the story goes a little something like this:

School = student loans = crippling debt = a need to repay that debt = one (1) dumbass horrible decision = life ruined = more dumbass horrible decisions = life super ruined beyond repair.

Timothy remembers a surprising little about his life before he became Jack—which should be more than mildly disturbing, considering that’s over twenty years and half of his entire existence, but he’s pretty much lost the ability to care by now. All he knows is that he was in debt, he needed to get out of that debt, and for some reason, getting an entire plastic surgery and personality change to pose as a random Hyperion programmer who couldn’t possibly be important enough (at the time) to need body doubles was the winning option. No questions or criticisms. He has enough of those from himself. But basically, yeah, twenty years’ contract pretending to be a conceited pain in the ass: stellar life decisions leading into more stellar life decisions.

See, at first, Jack wasn’t that bad. Obnoxiously full of himself and insufferable at best, sure, but Tim figured pulling that off wouldn’t be all too difficult (everyone has the ability to be an asshole; the good people just have filters, y’know?). The kiddie pool he had waded into became an entire deep end of shit starting when Jack brought Tim along on a job to find a Vault on Pandora’s moon. Sparing all the details of near-death experiences (suffocating in space, for example, or just getting railed with gunfire by the Lost Legion), Tim witnessed firsthand the evolution of “regular unassuming programmer Jack” to the infamous “Handsome Jack” whose name the entire system would come to recognize with either hatred or disturbing devotion. Oh, and hey . . .

That name was also Timmy’s now.

So that’s great.

Tim spent many years after that in the now Handsome Jack’s servitude (along with many, many, many other doppelgangers because the psychopath couldn’t be stopped). His body, voice . . . hell, his entire being was used for a plethora of things he’d rather not talk about. (The birthday parties weren’t that bad, and sometimes the fancy events would be fun, but he could’ve done without the totally-not-child-friendly movies.) Tim was no longer Tim. At least not until his contract was over, and really . . . suffice to say, he ended up losing track of how much time went by as much as he was losing track of who he really was without the whole Jack-impersonation thing.

Eventually, Tim ended up as one of the doppelgangers working at the Handsome Jackpot, a space casino big enough to have its own orbit. When the real Handsome Jack died, the casino went into lockdown and trapped all of its patrons and workers inside, which naturally led to a whole mess of violence spawned from insanity and a weird community of rivaling gangs within the casino. Timothy was trapped there for seven years before the Vault Hunters (on a job for Moxxi) rescued him. Since then, Tim—still looking like the spitting image of the dick-tater most had come to loathe—has been trying to rebuild a life for himself with his new freedom. However, one thing has become hopelessly clear:

He’d escaped one place full of people trying to kill him only to enter an entire galaxy of people wanting to kill him. Freedom’s . . . maybe a relative term. It’s a work in progress.

Extra notes (headcanon tag):

Tim underwent plastic surgery on his face, but the rest of his body is still his own, freckles and all (since he no longer has them on his cheeks, much to his dismay; he liked those). To guarantee the most accurate likeness possible, he’s had to stay in shape and ensure his body type still lines up with Jack’s through the years.

He has voice modulator implants in his neck that make him sound like Jack. These cause physical pain when he’s talking, though after decades of dealing with it, Tim is more or less accustomed to the discomfort (he basically just feels like he has a sore throat 24/7).

After escaping the casino (and now with “freedom” he hasn’t had in too many years to count), Tim’s become somewhat of a “gun for hire.” His morals make him picky about what jobs he takes, but after his experience on Elpis and plenty of “fighting for his life” on a near-constant basis, he’s (somewhat reluctantly) accepted these are the skills he’s accumulated . . . and he needs money to survive. (Not to mention he’s definitely got commitment issues and is reluctant to really work for one person/company; this gives him the chance to jump around and stay . . . “free” in some sense.)

Has acrophobia, an intense fear of heights.

He was injected with some of Jack’s DNA, which Timmy often blames for his occasional “tics” that have him saying things or behaving in ways that line up with Jack’s persona. The truth of the matter is that he’s spent so long pretending to be Jack that some of the dick behavior is just habitual, now (and he hates it).

Having been trapped in the Handsome Jackpot casino for seven years, Tim is out-of-touch with current events. He didn’t typically know wtf was going on most of the time, but now he at least has an excuse.

High alcohol tolerance. If he wasn’t already drinking to Cope just from having to be Handsome Jack, then he certainly got deep into that healthy habit during his seven years trapped in the hellhole of a casino. It takes many drinks to actually feel any effects, which is a bummer because god does he want to feel those effects. (Drinks a lot of just straight hard liquor with nothing mixed—right out of the bottle, baybee.)

He owns a small spaceship given to him by Moxxi after escaping the casino: a means of traveling anywhere he wants, and as far away from that place as possible. Tim’s not exactly a skilled pilot, but he manages (plus, autopilot is a godsend when it’s not colliding with things).

Literally the embodiment of “gets turned on by danger.”

Never actually had a real romantic relationship before. Having to pretend to be someone you’re not kinda puts a bit of a wrench in those possibilities, and as far as Timmy knows, Handsome Jack wasn’t really the . . . romantic type. Any flings Tim’s had were usually influenced by Jack. Casual sex and things of that ilk, though? Oh, yeah. He’s accustomed. He’s found fun where he can. (The closest thing he got to a relationship was with Ember for a few years in the casino, but it was never . . . shall we say “official” since Timmers danced around it.)

Used to have a bomb implanted somewhere in his face that would detonate if he ever spoke his real name. Thankfully, by the time Jack died, that sucker was deactivated . . . in that aspect: the bomb remained active as a means of keeping him trapped at the Handsome Jackpot (where he’d get blown to smithereens if he tried to leave; y’know, normal stuff a sane person does to someone). After Timmy’s escape, he managed to get Rhys’s help in removing any of those dangerous implants—since Rhys is well-versed in Hyperion technology.

Timmy was one of Jack’s “favorite” body doubles, which isn’t a good thing. It’s not a good thing. Basically the equivalent to being a skag’s prized chew toy. He gathered a good rep through the work he did on Elpis for starters, and proceeded to prove his worth as time went on. Tim saw a lot more of Jack than he wanted to, considering he already has to see him in the mirror every goddamn day.

[medicallymercury]

Cry for Help (03/10/87)

Today has very much been a waiting for DS spoilers kind of day for me. Then they gave me very little of what I wanted to know, so now I wait for Tuesday.

Lately, these review posts have become me complaining about how Casualty has been, and I don’t wanna do that right now. So, instead, here’s a review of the most recent 80s Casualty episode I’ve watched! Because I think it will be funny to post that instead of nothing. For context, I’ve been watching an episode of old Casualty before bed if I have to go to uni in the morning, as a treat.

In this post, I will prove that I can write three paragraphs about series 2 paramedics just as well I can write three paragraphs about series 38 paramedics.

Sandra Mute is like my girlfriend who “goes to a different school”, you guys don’t know her but she’s the love of my life. Clearly, it’s something about paramedics. She’s so lovely and funny and good at her job and argumentative and great and amazing and her friendship with Susie and Duffy is sweet and and and… and she’s perfect. I consider it deeply tragic that she can’t time travel or be a ghost paramedic and join the current team. (Considering Mute’s history with Welsh paramedics who are too old for her, Ghost Mute would be to Jan what Thomas was to Alison in Ghosts.)

Cringe as it is, I quite genuinely ship her with Andy. Even though he’s played by Robert Pugh (so I keep thinking of Gethin), is a good bit older than her, it’s an affair, she could do better, and they’re hardly the most romantic about it. I love them together - honestly all the reasons they’re a mess are things I enjoy about them. Yeah, paramedic infidelity that I enjoy, in the current climate of the show. Anyway, this is their episode to me. “You, this ambulance, and that’s it. That’s my life.” should be the universal paramedic failromance line brought to us by the original paramedic failromance. When Andy keeps trying to start a conversation about their actual feelings/the fact that he loves her but she keeps steering him away from it and laughing it off because she knows she has to stop things with him if it goes that far </3 And I’m sorry but Casualty hasn’t had an banger line like “There have been times when you’ve been asleep in my bed and I’ve looked at you and I’ve hated myself.” for one of their explicitly canon romantic relationship in a while. Please Casualty, reintroduce the guilt and self-hatred element to your cheating storylines, it makes them a lot more interesting. Or any romance storyline, ‘I hate myself for loving you’ dynamics will always be beloved to me.

Which is all to say, I’m DEVASTATED that the most significant thing I can say about Sandra in retrospect is that she was the first main character to be killed off, and in a way I feel like she set a precedent with it. She was stabbed, by a patient, in the moving ambulance, on Andy’s birthday. I am very much heartbroken even though I knew it was coming. To be honest, I don’t entirely believe that she could pull the knife out as easily as she did but modern Casualty is unsettlingly realistically gory so I’ll take a secondary school play level stabbing. The part where Andy is with her in the ambulance? Miserable. The part where everyone in resus realises that she’s dead and the only sound is her flatlining? Miserable. Now I’m actually sad that Charlie is leaving purely because he’s the last existing character who would remember Mute and for reasons unknown there hasn’t been a shrine set up for her in the ambulance station. Her legacy lives on anytime a character dies on the job, traumatising their colleagues.

KUBA. I LOVE YOU. He’s usually very much comedic relief but he was a part of a very serious storyline in this one and he was great!!

I miss Baz too much to completely take to Mary yet but she does seem to be a very early prototype for the later Holbyverse ice queens, so that’s fun. I really, really do miss Baz though, I know she comes back eventually but she was my girl and I loved her little white coat outfits.

Mute may be Andy’s controversially younger girlfriend in a silly, she’s at least mid-20s it’s fine, way but Karen is Charlie’s controversially younger girlfriend in a canonically very bad, is she even 18 yet, way. Karen sweetie get behind me and away from that man.

On that note, Megan is the main person calling him out on it and I LOVE MEGAN. She’s like a mum to the nurses and I adore her. Telling Duffy she shouldn’t be going around with a lot of money in her purse… Love. Her. <3

Think Ewart is heading towards a romance with this morally questionable girlboss lady. Good for him. Love some old people romance, why else would I watch medical dramas?

Don’t have the heart to watch the next episode yet because I can’t accept that Mute, who I knew was going, is gone.

[mysticdragon3md3]

A while ago, I posted about realizing that a lot of my favorite personal waifus weren't just "impassive, dead inside" characters, but that they also had to have a self-destructive streak for me to get really attached to them: https://mysticdragon3md3.tumblr.com/post/695972425782919168/pic-reads-shout-out-to-emotionless-women-bound

I've been thinking a lot lately about Kikyo in particular. I think she was the first of this trend of archetypes that I grew really attached to. I didn't even care about shipping her with Inuyasha; I just identified with her. But recently, I've realized that maybe one of the big reasons she caught my eye, was her second life aspect. During her first life, she was the "priestess whose purity would purify the Shikon Jewel". She mentions during the manga or anime, about always being on guard, to not have any intense emotions, especially negative emotions, so her spirit could stay pure and thus purify the Shikon Jewel, merely by her presence. (That's why her indulgence in feeling love for Inuyasha was so dangerous.) But after she is resurrected, during her second life, she mentions that now she is free to both love and hate. And that's been really sticking into my brain lately, even though I hadn't thought about the Inuyasha series in years.

So now I have to consider if this aspect of Kikyo has become more relevant to my current life, or maybe always was pertinent, and I was only aware on a subconscious level of this relatability.

For a lot of my life, I didn't allow myself negative emotions. I didn't enjoy being angry. (Though, I sure did spend a lot of my formative years being sad. O.o?) I didn't enjoy feeling anger or disdain towards people. I wasn't better than anyone. I couldn't stand the malice involved in merely gossiping about others behind their backs. I didn't allow myself to hate others, be angry, and I usually turned that anger and usually blame onto myself. I was the only acceptable target. After all, hating someone, allowing myself to be angry at certain people in my life, felt like an infection in my brain, that would fester and rot my soul from the inside out. I felt too guilty. It felt like an arrogant emotion to have. It made me feel like I was becoming things I didn't like, things that went against my ideals. And I couldn't help feeling too much sympathy for others, to ever make dismissive feelings towards them feel justified. Later, I learned, this was a Defense Mechanism state of mind, so I could tolerate bad situations/relationships that I couldn't escape. Because as soon as I got out of such environments, I could suddenly feel so clearly, how wrong the whole thing was, how much hatred and aggravation I felt, how I wouldn't be wrong to feel that way, and the realization of how much I had suppressed.

In recent years, I've allowed myself to hate things. Bad movies, fictional characters, people in my life that I didn't allow myself to feel anger towards before, etc. I thought it was a bad thing. I felt so guilty about it. There are still old posts on my blog about how I vowed to only post about my positive feelings/experiences in fandom, and keep any negativity off my blog (and only keep to private offline journals). "Fangirl over what I love, not about what I hate." Then much later, my blog had posts about feeling guilty for venting-posting about characters who made me angry. But then YouTube movie reviewers made ranting about bad movies, so much fun. I got too accustomed to and too comfortable with the idea of disliking something and enjoying ranting about it. Maybe it's made my blog a more toxic place. But other people commented to reassure me that even my Akechi Goro hate wasn't really bad. And I realized, "why should I disallow myself my own feelings??????" These were FICTIONAL characters! I keep my hate-posts away from common tags of the characters names. There shouldn't be anything wrong with me having opinions and feelings, including things I DISLIKE. There shouldn't be anything wrong with me disliking specific characters; just like there isn't anything wrong with me liking other characters. Maybe I was afraid of the fandoms, because so many characters I dislike are very popular: Ishida Mitsunari, Oikawa Toru, Tsukishima Kei, Goro Akechi, Bakugou Katsuki, Edelgard von Heresvelg,… But what's so wrong about having an opinion about FICTIONAL characters???? I should be allowed to dislike Akechi and Edelgard! They're not real! Their feelings can't get hurt! (And I take precautions against their fans seeing my character-hate, in respect for their fans' feelings as real life people. That should be sufficient.) My perspectives and interpretations on their series mean something TO ME, even if they've lead me to dislike certain characters. And I should be allowed to have opinions which include disliking things! I shouldn't have to feel guilty for HAVING EMOTIONS…especially a full range of emotions, after my formative years of repressing so many of my emotions.

I'm considering that maybe I'm in a point of my life, similar to Kikyo's second life: where she is allowed to feel whatever emotions she has, instead of repressing "unacceptable" emotions. It sounds like a healthier way to live.

[keefwho]

May 11 - 2023

3:56 PM

I guess until Tuesday I should focus on being present in the things I do. Lately I’ve been having a very hard time taking my mind off of certain things and I know it would do me well to learn how. It’s EXTREMELY hard to do that though. It feels wrong mentally letting go of things that seem like they need to be solved or improved. But I know they do not and even if they do, I can’t give them constant attention. Its just not efficient. I especially want to focus when I’m trying to socialize. Being distracted while talking is the biggest inhibitor to making good connections right now. It’s also disrespectful not giving people the attention they deserve. 

8:02 PM

I’m lost. I know I’ve been lost. But I’m extra lost today. I was thinking about why I feel like this right now. I was thinking about all the things I want to say I’ve done and the actual action I’ve put into those things. I’m lacking in a lot of departments because instead of DOING things, I usually just think about them and having completed them. But thats not all that has me feeling empty. Part of that was what I want out of myself. I want to love myself because I suffer not being able to be as close with people as I’d like. I want to make friends and feel loved more than I do now. I’ve reached temporary points like that but I want it to be more consistent. Then I was thinking, what action have I committed to making THAT happen? What can I do for MYSELF? I don’t know sometimes. I don’t know right now. I think I’m meant to do what I feel but what if I don’t feel anything? WHY don’t I feel anything? All I know is that I need to do SOMETHING if I want things to change. I just don’t know what that something is. Right now I’m hopping VRchat worlds alone, trying to think about things. I want to socialize but I’m limited by my self hatred right now. As much as I want to hang out somewhere, I would be doing whoever I was with a disservice by being in the mood I am in now. I don’t have the energy to socialize properly tonight. I could only be around someone that understands how I’m feeling without the need to give advice which is unavailable to me currently. But I know I need more time to myself, I’ll brute force being alone until I figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. 

Maybe treating myself tonight means cozying up with Spyro and letting myself cry about all the ways I think I fall short. I know it’s okay to feel bad sometimes. I will keep getting better in time. Its just so so hard sometimes. The struggle to improve myself never stops. 

Im sad I’m so pathetic. I’m sad I don’t act on things more. I’m sad I live in such a shitty, middle of nowhere place. I’m sad that I’m the sole reason I feel so alone. I’m at the center of all my problems and that just makes me feel even shittier about myself. This is the definition of broken. 

I wish I had someone to cry to tonight.