#.♰ TW SA

[grotesque-illusion]

a rant about booktok

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of s/a, sexualisation of minors

booktok is genuinely fucking disgusting lmao

more so the people that romanticise borderline s/a, toxic relationships, stockholm syndrome, etc.

but it's not only that that irks me. it's the fact that they continuously bring children into their stuff. first it was simping for a minor just cuz he rode a motorcycle, now its joking about how you'll get kids to read a hard-core bdsm/smut book with elements of kidnapping n s/a in it just cuz the cover looks child friendly

"we aren't addicted to porn!" if you can't read a book that isn't filled with sexual content then yes, you do. a porn addiction doesn't only indicate watching porn, it means reading it, drawing it, writing it. I'd know. I had a porn addiction that was in the form of reading smutfics. to this day i have to hold myself back from going back to it even if it's been literal years now

i couldn't read fanfics that didn't have sexual stuff in them, I couldn't read the beginning of the story if it had the plot before the smut, I'd often look for hard-core bdsm later on. it is a porn addiction. n no, you can't cover yourself up by saying "men do worse" when you do the exact same things

it's a problem when men romanticise s/a, but when booktok girlies do it? no its fine!

it's a problem when men sexualise minors, but not when you do it?

it's a problem when men have more sadistic kinks, but not when you do?

[hopelantics]

Nicholas had been walking around the streets of the small town for what felt like hours. Bars, small shops, the library too, he’d taken to anything he could to keep himself occupied on this not particularly eventful day. With enough distraction it had slowly eased into evening. Now, tired with legs that were sore out of his mind his only plans for the rest of the night had been to go home and settle into his bed. Maybe some stargazing too if he felt like climbing those damned ladders. Probably not.

It’s funny how plans can change so quickly. And how emotions switched sides. From confronting Knives to sobbing in his arms and worse. From angry to desperate.

And now to hating Legato yet protecting him from harm despite that. Now from calm to angry. Protective.

He’d just barely overheard the discomfort of his voice and the slurs of clearly drunken men when passing by, but Legato’s distinct ‘leave me alone’ made him stop in his tracks without so as much as a thought. From then on every aspect of their surroundings made him understand what would occur if he didn’t step in.

The thick stench of alcohol, the lack of others to help, the fact they were slowly but surely trying to force the blue-haired man into an ally.

He didn’t have much, but a metal pipe lying on the side of the road would have to do. For an improv weapon, it certainly wasn’t bad. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

Oh well.

Hauling the thing over his shoulder he proceeded towards the group, whacking it against the wall as hard as he could to get their attention. Hopefully, with how loud it had echoed through the ally they’d understand his intentions. But, to assure them his threat was genuine, he spit on the ground after tilting his shades down.

“I suggest you guys get out of here unless you want some metal to give you an impromptu dentist appointment. The choice is yers, boys.”

Perhaps Legato had gotten too comfortable here in this place. It was easy to forget, when he was surrounded by an environment so different than what he'd known all his life, that humans were the same at their cores. People were people, and for all the people that were apparently decent, there were just as many that were decidedly not.

"Hey hey hey sweetheart! Where are you goin'?" Drunk men were the worst, spilling away from the front of the bar Legato is walking past. He's not the only one either, several more men following the first.

The hair on the back of Legato's neck stands up and he tries walking faster to avoid them, to no avail. The group of men trot to catch up, swaying and smelling strongly of booze.

"C'mon pretty thin', don't you wanna hang out wit' us?" The men crowd and Legato's attempts to sidestep them only end up cornering himself against a wall. A flash of fear trips down his spine and he hisses, drawing himself up to try and be intimidating.

"I am not interested, leave me alone." The men chuckle and crowd in closer.

"Playin' hard t' get, eh? C'mon we'll treat ya real nice." He darts forward, trying to simply break past them before things devolved further. It doesn't work, hands closing on his thick winter coat and throwing him back against the wall before he can clear the ring. It's difficult to think, through the surge of panic in his veins. Yes, Nico had taught him how to defend himself and he could throw a punch without breaking his hand. But there are too many of them and only one of him and he's liable to get himself in more trouble trying to defend himself than not.

Wide gold eyes dart around the street, looking for anyone who might be able and willing to help him. There's only one figure there and Legato meets their eyes in a silent plea for assistance-

Only for the hope on his face to die immediately.

It's Wolfwood, not the one who'd adopted him but his own, who would most likely prefer to see him dead. The likelihood of assistance coming from that direction is minimal at best. Legato drops his gaze, trying to find the willpower to swing at the men tugging on his jacket even as he flinches away from their touch. Hopefully they only want to manhandle him a bit and they lose interest quickly and he can run home and hide in Nai's wings where no one else can touch him. Without his powers, it's the best he can hope for.

@hopelantics

[silentheaven-sys]

TBMC Rant / Vent

Tw: Sa mention / Religion mention

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One day you wake up, your legs sore, your eyes burning red, and you think: Why is my purpose in life to be Violated?

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I was programmed to be a Housewife, or something of the sort anyways. As the old host and core of the system has vanished since my arrival, and since i was one of the last to be programmed Externally, i don’t have much memory of life before.

I was born as this and I will die as this, all my memories will be this, no past, no future, just the never ending present.

I don’t believe I can be Deprogrammed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I think it makes sense to establish some context:

I grew up in a strict, christian Place (won’t talk extensively for safety), surrounding my house we had around 10 churches, in particular my family was very high in the ‘society’ created there, we lived in front of the priests. I preached to younger kids, I was in the chorus, even the school life was dictated by church. We did homework all together at the community center (with the church people), we would routinely be sent to the mountains to pray etc… you probably understand the gist.

Since i can remember, we’ve always wanted to be a housewife, have 3, 4 or more children. Don’t work, dress pretty, satisfy your husband. It contrasted strongly with our sexuality and gender, which was a matter of chatter for the church.

.

I think it’s something that always described us as a system, this duality, this core need to be away from the church, away from religion because we are inherently unholy, but this control they’ve instilled in us never letting us truly escape.

This duality that they even programmed in us, really.

Even now, I haven’t left fully.

I moved country, but i Haven’t left. I’m going back once every few months at least.

How can i leave?

I still want to be a housewife.

A mother.

Even if i’m a boy.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Lord, Lamb, Box and Clock were all programmed before me. Lord having re-emerged recently (As Lamb allowed us to find a tiny sub system, no idea why yet), Lamb being our first alter, from what we can recollect, and Clock being the second. Box I can’t genuinely remember.

When I, Passerine, was programmed, the body was already older, not of much sure, but older enough to cause a different need to come from our handlers.

Lord, Lamb, Box and Clock are all aggressive, loyal, guard dogs or creators of duality. Meant to act up to cause ‘delightful’ punishment. Meant to punish others. Meant to always come back.

I was made for one job and one job only.

Housewife.

Which didn’t mean just, clean the house and pop some kids as i’ve been led to believe.

It meant my body would freeze, absolute paralysis, with the use of a single Word. It meant my tongue would be caught in my mouth it meant i couldn’t speak or move but just take it over and over again even if i was bleeding.

We had another ‘trigger’ that would instead, give us a very opposite reaction, one where we were forced to beg: to be hit, to be used.

It’s still in me, it’s still something i do, i still freeze when my partner forgets he’s not supposed to say that word, i still try to get naked when his expression sours.

I still mother him, i still clean the house, i cook, i desire children, it’s my job.

Every time he holds me, caresses my hair, and he’s reassuring me it’s okay to not enjoy sex, that we can make it all better, i can only repeat

It’s my job.

It’s my job.

And i’m never getting better.

.

until 2021 i was not aware enough of who i was, what was happening.

Lamb to this day likes to lock my tongue up when he feels like his control is slipping.

When i want to say no.

.

Now, after years of therapy. I can’t say it has gotten much better really

It’s still my job.


and it hurts even worse.

[sevendeadlywhispers]

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[hopelantics]

Seeing a smile on Legato’s face…

It made him freeze. It reminded him how much he hated seeing that expression on him. He had to look away. He didn’t want to see it no matter the context. While it held a sincere emotion, the other times he’d seen that expression on his face?…

It’d been when he slammed him down in that cell floor and made him helpless, utterly and completely at the will of those who would always decide his fate and punishments.

He always saw that look. Could only relate his smile to the bones he couldn’t move. He made his body be locked down, each time breaking something or holding him down so tight to the earth they’d break anyway if he tried to peel himself up. No way to escape. And he did it all with a smile on his face. He looked so much like him and yet nothing like him.

Is this even his Legato?

He doesn’t act like him.

All of this is making his head ache and eyes glass over.

Push your glasses up, Punisher. Your enemy can’t see the fear in them that way. Stand up tall, respond firmly, show no semblance of negative emotion.

“I’d suggest you train some more, then. If yer not gonna keep a weapon on you, then make yourself one.” Why was he even giving him any suggestions? Why wasn’t he just walking away? Frozen in fear or genuine care?

Sighing heavily he turns around, looking from the side of his eye to observe his actions. That way, he could still look at him without the fear. They were both similar in the sense they really didn’t want much to do with each other. Lighting a cigarette, he leans on the end of the wall where the exit of the ally is.

“Nobody deserves to be taken advantage of. I’ve had it happen to me before just in different ways. I’ll be damned if I allow it to happen to someone else if I can stop it. My personal opinion on someone will always come second to doing the right thing.”

“I don’t have a reason not to help. My feelings aren’t reasons, just excuses. So, I helped.”

Something akin to a snarl escapes him as he watches the men leave. In all honesty for their comments he’s half tempted to take a swing at them and show them all how people oughta treat real, living, breathing people, but for the sake of the promise he’d made to himself he ultimately doesn’t. Instead he opts to shout at them as they leave.

“Do that again and I’ll knock y’all on your asses for REAL next time, low life pieces of shit. You’re lucky I don’t have my fuckin gun on me! Y’know what no—die of alcohol poisoning next time! And save me the hassle!”

Whether someone of authority heard those threats he truly didn’t care. If they did he’d just have to make a run for it or take the consequences of his words. He’d assume given the situation was explained they’d give some leniency.

With a loud sigh and a clang of metal he dropped the pipe and turned to look at Legato, hesitantly nodding before taking a step to retrieve the fallen coat. Why he was helping him further he truly didn’t know. He was a grown man and certainly could deal with the rest on his own but…better safe than sorry. They could always come back. If he didn’t have his powers? That would mean trouble.

“‘Ere. It got some dust on it but other than that it’s fine. “ he mumbles whilst holding it out, waiting for him to grab ahold of it.

“You should get a weapon. Especially for when you’re around bars. Just cause this isn’t Gunsmoke doesn’t mean anything.”

So it seemed.