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demonslayerunhinged · 9 months ago

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*cw: this theory deals with child sexual abuse and has mentions of suicidal ideation and eating disorders.

*If you or anyone you know is going through this, you can find resources here, here and here as well as a list of international hotlines.

Obanai is probably the second most hated character in the fandom, and just like Sanemi, he’s one of the most misunderstood. I think the hate he gets from the fandom is unwarranted; he’s accused of being a dick, a horrible person, a simp and a character who only exists to be Mitsuri’s love interest. All of which is unfair, sure he’s prickly and unapproachable, but he’s not as bad as the fandom makes him out to be.

So, in my quest to draft a defense for our favorite snek boy, I reread his backstory and in doing so, I realized something sad

Unhinged theory

Obanai is a sexual abuse survivor

Let me explain:

Obanai’s backstory and aspects of his character mirrors that of someone who’s been through sexual trauma. The evidence I'm going to present is a combination of my own knowledge about these matters and information I got from forums and websites for male survivors of sexual abuse. So let's examine them...um spoilers

The snake demon

I believe that the snake demon is a metaphor for a sexual predator. Her inclusion in the family could also be a metaphor for how these predators insert themselves into family units-or most of the time are family members themselves-and abuse the children for years and even generations. Obanai's relatives sacrificing their babies to her could signify the real life actions of families who are unaware or, turn a blind eye to, or sometimes actively participate in the abuse of their children.

The sacrifice in exchange for wealth speaks of how families in real life ignore the abuse of their children to maintain the wealth and status they obtain from being related to and associated with the abuser.

Even her decision to wait, ordering the cutting of his mouth so he would look like her, could be interpreted as her 'grooming' him in a sense.

Even her design has a certain sexual, predatory aspect to it that's different from the other demons.

His relatives

Obanai describes his family members as being 'disgustingly' affectionate and bringing him lots of 'greasy' food that made him sick. Food in media is often used to depict love, affection, connection and sex, and Demon Slayer is no different.

There are plenty of instances where food and the giving of food has been used to denote friendship (Tanjiro giving Zenitsu, Inosuke and Genya meals in an attempt to bond with them), connection (Giyuu wanting to give Sanemi ohagi), love (Tanjiro's love of cooking and the satisfaction he shows when his meals are enjoyed by others) and pleasure (Mitsuri's large appetite). I'll make a post about this later.

With this context, we can interpret their bringing of rich foods, their overbearing attention and affections as them objectifying and even being sexually inappropriate with him.

The sexual abuse

Non-physical.

The first instance of abuse is non-physical, but that doesn't make it any less important. Being constantly visited by the snake demon in his room at night, Obanai described his feelings of terror, being paralyzed and watched. His body would break out in a sweat, and he would be unable to fall asleep.

His descriptions of the experience and his body's reaction to it reminded me of some survivors' stories I read, where they talked about how in the initial stages of the abuse or when the abuser was first introduced into their lives, their abuser would give them unwanted attention, would stare at them in a way that felt creepy, gross and wrong.

Some had their abusers come in to their rooms, maybe under the guise of 'checking in on them'. They described feeling terrified, freezing up with the hopes that the attacker would leave. Some would take measures such as sleeping with the door locked or with a heavy object against it, sleeping with a sibling or parent, sleeping in a hiding spot that the attacker knows nothing about or not sleeping at all.

Physical.

The specific age that the snake demon plans to 'eat' Obanai is never stated, but from what we've seen so far and in the sexual context, we can assume that she's waiting until he hits puberty. Some studies state that the average age of victims of female sex offenders usually falls around 14 years, but there are cases where the female predator waited until their victim reached sexual maturity before they carried out their abuse, like in the case of Mary Kay Letourneau. Here's a video that breaks down an interview she did before her death.

Obanai was 12 when he was dragged out of his cell to be subjected to what I believe is the first physical abuse. He had his mouth slit from ear to ear, with the blood collected and fed to her. The snake demon decided to have him live a little longer, which again, fits into my theory of her wanting to wait until he reached puberty.

Bodily violation, violence and blood are common allegories for sexual assault used in media and in Obanai's backstory we see it being used when his relatives drag him from his cell, literally pin him down, cut his mouth and feed his blood to the snake demon. The act of feeding on his blood could also be a metaphor for the snake demon sexually abusing him.

His escape and the resulting fallout

Obanai managed to escape, and although he was tracked down by the snake demon, he was saved by Shinjuro Kengoku before she could kill him. His cousin's response was to blame him for all that happened, asked why he ran away, and said that he should have 'allowed' the demon to eat him.

This could represent how some victims are rejected, ostracized and criticized for speaking out against their attacker, exposing the abuse to the public and getting help. Their families would say 'you should have just let it happen', 'you destroyed the family', 'why did you run away, tell people?' and place the blame on the victim.

Obanai's reaction

There are three aspects of his characterization that are similar to the common reactions noticed in adult survivors of sexual assault, especially male survivors.

His appearance.

His behavior.

His beliefs.

His appearance

Obanai has a small frame that he hides with his baggy uniform and haori. I can tell it's baggy compared to that of the other slayers because of the width of his pants vs the width of his lower legs. Desexualization or hypo-sexualization is a common response among some survivors of sexual trauma, this usually involves wearing clothes and taking measures to make themselves look 'unattractive'.

'But this side feels more comfortable for me, like the baggy clothes I wear, which hide my body, and the long sleeves which reach past my wrists. I promised myself no man would ever touch me again, and whether it was a moment of triumph, or a moment of defeat, I still don't know.'

'I'm thin, shy. I seem easy to dominate. I've grown a beard. That's helped a little. I dress in baggy clothes, covering as much of my skin as possible. That makes me feel safe.'

This not only helps regain a sense of control and power over their body but also serves as a protective measure against sexual advances so they don't get abused again.

In Obanai, given his history of receiving unwanted, suffocating and 'disgusting' attention from his female relatives, it would make sense that he would want to dress in a way that makes him unapproachable and hides his body from the opposite sex. We can see his attempts to desexualize himself in the picture below:

His behavior

'Iguro has difficulty with girls. Due to his experiences growing up, he was unable to conquer his fear and animosity. Plus, the firls who joined the Demon Slayer Corps often put on brave faces because of their sad backgrounds, so he felt sorry for them, making him uncomfortable in a different way.' - Taisho Whispers, official English translation.

'Iguro-san isn't good with women. Due to his upbringing he has a fear and disgust towards women. (I couldn't overcome it easily. The women who joined the Demon Slayer Corps have painful stories of determination. I felt sorry for them and I didn't get along with them in a way that was different from the way I got along with my family)' - Taisho Whispers, direct-sort-of-shitty translation via Google Translate.

Male survivors who were victims of childhood abuse by female perpetrators often talk about how the abuse greatly affected their relationships with women or lack thereof. Some going so far as to say that they became afraid of women, being around them and how sometimes being touched by women would trigger panic attacks and remind them of the trauma.

Here are some quotes posted in a thread on the Male Survivor forum. Full thread here.

'Once that happened, my genophobia became more intense. I couldn't ware short trousers in summer, could never go swimming, got paranoid if I touched a woman's arm or even brushed against one, would always stand at a distance from female friends, and would literally leave the room if anything explicit was discussed.'

'I have started to have strange, deep discomforting feelings as I remember some of the assaults and I have gotten to a place where touch from a woman makes my hair stand up, makes me nauseous, and gives me chills and feelings of dread.'

Obanai has similar responses when he finds himself in proximity to women. We're only told about it in the main manga, but it's shown in the Gakuen. I know the Gakuen takes place in an alternate universe, but aside from the events, the behaviors of the characters are based on their actual personalities in the main manga, so we can safely say the reactions he displays in the Gakuen is canon to his character.

His beliefs

Adult survivors of sexual abuse often struggle with feelings of guilt, rage, and shame. In the manga, Obanai talks about being held back by the decaying hands of his family members, which could represent the long-lasting effects of sexual abuse and how some survivors carry these burdens all through adulthood or throughout their lives.

There's also the thoughts about himself that echo the heartbreaking thoughts shared by some male survivors.

Guilt:

"As the member of a filthy family, I too was corrupt. My sins were deep, so I could not live a normal life"

Rage:

"With no other outlet, I turned all my rage on demons in a grudge of intense hatred. By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."

Shame:

"Unless I die and come back in a different body in which this filthy blood does not flow, I have no right to be with you."

Suicidal ideation(mild):

"By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."

"I want to die defeating Muzan." (He's the only character that I know of that outright says this.)

He also kind-of expresses his feelings of being weak during the fight with Muzan:

"I've accomplished less in this battle than anyone! I wish I could deliver a more effective attack."

While this quote isn't exactly definite, a feeling of being weak, or being 'less of a man' is also a common experience shared by male sexual assault survivors.

The scar and It's symbolism

The scar is a physical manifestation of the lifelong effect that sexual abuse has on its victims and the stigma it carries. For Obanai, it's not just a painful reminder of the trauma he suffered at the hands of his family, but also a reminder to him that he's like his attacker, the snake demon. The bandages he wraps around his mouth symbolizes not just his attempts to hide his trauma, but also his inability to talk about it due to shame and fear, which is unfortunately an all too common experience of male survivors.

Another struggle survivors often experience is with intimacy, romantic relationships and sex. For Obanai, I believe that this struggle is represented by his eating disorder. The link between food and sex is a well established belief in many cultures, people with large appetites can be seen as having equally high sex drives while people with small appetites have little or no sex drive.

As he grows older, his little appetite is basically him curbing his growing sexual desire, which he sees as ugly, like the scar on his mouth. But the thing is Obanai wants love, he wants to love and be loved, to be intimate with another person, but he feels he doesn't deserve it, after all he's filthy, shameful and probably a predator just like the snake demon. So he starves himself, suffering in silence with the belief that he was disgusting, that no one would ever love him, that he was destined to and deserved to be alone.

Then he met Mitsuri.

In Conclusion, Obanai is way more complex than the KnY fandom gives him credit for. This is a man that went through immense suffering, and it's really sad to see people hate on him because he isn't 'nice'.

Well, that's just how life is. Trauma doesn't exactly make nice people. We can't all be like Giyuu or Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤), a lot of us are like Obanai, Sanemi, and even Shinobu, a lot of us are angry, and why shouldn't we be?

...

*Phew, ok so this one has been in the drafts for a while because I was scared to post such a dark subject matter and also I needed to be really sure I wasn't just talking out of my ass but after rereading his backstory and analyzing aspects of his character, I'm more confident about this.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #obamitsu #obanai iguro #tw: csa #tw: ed #unhinged theory #unhinged analysis #hashira #demon slayer academy #demon slayer hashira #mitsuri kanroji #might make edits later #kny spoilers #kny analysis #obanai x mitsuri

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love-toxin · 1 year ago

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jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

#sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyun su x reader #hyun su x reader #gn reader #ellie writes #3k

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satosugusandwich · 1 year ago

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𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

Cw: once again mentions of violence from first chapter, self hatred, self-sabotage, sukuna is introspective, but he’s still an asshole, mentions of a sex room (context is necessary to understand lmao)

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*Yuji is aged up but there will be no sexual stuff with him except maybe like a brief mention but yeah*

Also I mentioned this on Ao3 but this work in inspired by “Teeth” by Lady Gaga (also monster by her is so Sukuna coded)

@dressycobra7

Chapter 2 Here!!!!!

Chapter 3: To Hate One’s Self

You were able to sleep way harder than you anticipated. You suspected that the trauma from the whole ordeal would make you unable to sleep at all but there was something comforting about having Yuji with you and even though you didn’t want to admit it, having a demon bound to you was actually pretty fucking reassuring. When you woke up, you immediately decided that you have no desire to even think about going to class let alone actually go. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and rot a little bit. (Only temporarily, Yuji hoped). Yuji offered to go get breakfast for you two and promised he’d be as fast as possible, so you were left alone with Sukuna in your living room while you scrolled through YouTube videos online.

It didn’t take long for your peaceful scrolling to be interrupted by swearing coming from the living room and then an “aha!” You were curious but also scared to know what exactly Sukuna was doing. You decided to remain there until you heard a loud thud. You didn’t bother to fix your hair or your clothes when you peeked out of the door to peer at Sukuna. He had picked up your recliner and moved it across the room, seemingly had thrown it.

“Do you intend to watch me?” He turned his head toward you and rose to his feet from the floor. You realized what he was doing now, eyeballing the tv remote in his hands.

“Uh, no, just—I was wondering where that was.” You stammered. “I checked under there but—“

“It was lodged in the inside of it. I had to shake it around to get it out.” Sukuna interjected.

“Are you gonna… put it back?” You can’t believe you just asked a scary super intense monster demon thing to move your chair back.

He seemed amused but unsurprised by your question. “It was in the way.” His body was fully turned to you now and you couldn’t help but watch his stomach mouth smirk at you.

You opened your mouth to speak but were far too distracted by how one pair of arms crossed themselves while the others sat on his hips like a disappointed mother. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” You finally spoke.

“If you tell that brat to bring me extra food, I’ll move whatever you like.” He grinned.

Food? Okay. Interesting motivation but relatable you thought to yourself. “Yeah, sure.” You opened up your phone and called Yuji, telling him Sukuna wants extra.

“Man, he already eats comical amounts of food… I’m gonna go bankrupt.” Yuji mumbled over the line.

Sukuna had already moved the recliner back to its original spot and was sat, turning on the television after inspecting the remote closely.

Yuji continued. “I think I’ll get barbecue since I can get a whole lot for really cheap. He gets extra needy after he follows a more crazy command. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, still watching Sukuna. “Yeah. And bbq is fine. I’ll send you my order.”

After hanging up, you walked back into your room and then into the bathroom to fix yourself. You didn’t want to look in the mirror and when you did, you realized you really were right. Your eyes were dark and your skin was so much paler. On top of that, you could see that bruises formed overnight on areas where the men had gripped you extra hard, and not to mention the dryness of your skin, having neglected drinking anything since you came home. Really, you feel ashamed for what you’ve done, you fucked up your life by sucking some shitheads dick and have given your best friend unnecessary stress. You were miserable. Maybe all you should do is rot.

“Hey brat! Teach me how to navigate your technology!” Sukuna called to you snapping you out of your ideation.

A nasty scowl was on his face and his stomach mouth was certainly not smiling anymore. You looked to your tv and realized it was on the wrong input and he was clicking buttons frustratedly, trying to get it off the error screen. You recall that you were playing video games last time you were out in the living room and you must’ve forgot to switch it back.

“Here, press this button.” You clicked the blue input button and it changed to the regular settings. “What are you trying to watch?”

Sukuna scoffed. “I can find what I want myself, I’ve seen the brat do it enough.” He snatched the remote back from you and slowly started to scroll to Netflix and then clicking on the app. It’s fascinating watching him, it’s like watching an old person use a phone.

“Okay.” You waited a moment before deciding to walk to the kitchen, trying to hide the fact that you were curious to see what he’d try to watch.

Sukuna assumed you wanted to watch him, he was tempted to find something that would make you react in an amused way. He didn’t exactly know what, but was determined to get a reaction out of you. He settled on an interesting title, How to Build A Sex Room. Perfect. “Hm.” Sukuna mumbled. “Humans still fuck like rabbits.”

You didn’t know what to say. But what made it worse for you? You had already started watching that show in the past. So it started in the middle of an episode.

“The hell? This doesn’t seem to be right, it’s in the middle of the show.” Then his head was suddenly facing you. “Someone must’ve been watching it.”

You were blushing and even though his face was completely indifferent, you could see his stomach mouth smirking again. “Maybe.” Is all you said. Let’s pray the demon that you just met doesn’t realize that you’re a freak and that he doesn’t understand technology at all.

Sukuna found the restart button fast. Yeah, he knows enough. Damn Yuji for being such a movie nerd! And damn Yuji for having a demon that watches him!

“Hey, I got a a question.” You tried to deflect from your embarrassment.

Sukuna remained fixated on the screen. “I suppose I’ll indulge.”

“Do you have to be around me or Yuji? Or can you roam free?”

Sukuna pursed his lips. “Regrettably, I’m stuck with both of you. If I could roam completely free, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here.” He answered honestly, seemingly unconcerned with how you feel toward his answer.

“How far can you go?”

“That’s already two I’ve answered.”

“Sorry.”

He let out a huff of air. “I’m only teasing. The distance depends, there’s no specification. Sometimes it depends on the security of the master. Presently, you don’t feel very safe so I can’t go far. I could’ve gone with the brat and maintained better distance, but I hate being stuffed into his vehicle.”

That makes sense, he was practically in a million different positions trying to remain comfortable in your friend’s car, thinking about the way he was having to sit made you realize it was a lot funnier than you remember. The recliner he was situated in was almost the perfect size to hug his body. You were sure he’s grateful to not have to follow Yuji anymore, but then again, he can’t get that far away from you either.

“Sorry you can’t leave.” You said.

Sukuna didn’t respond and instead focused on the screen. You attempted to shuffle away now, finding yourself to feel very awkward.

“Hey, brat.” Right as you got to your door he spoke. “You went to sleep with that man, right? I’ve heard you speak about your outings with the other brat and I find it pitiful you choose such sad men.”

Oh shit, you can feel that same tightness in your throat coming again as well as embarrassment flood your senses. You didn’t answer him.

“In my era, a woman like you would’ve been thrown to the masses, celebrated. I never had any interest in women like that but the men that did were ones who could not stand on their own. Taking cock from a man like that will ruin you.”

His words took you aback, not just because of his brazen use of the work cock, but also what felt to you like harsh advice. You sucked down the urge to cry and asked him, “why are you telling me this?”

Sukuna pondered over what he should answer with. “I don’t like watching misery.”

You entered your room and shut the door, unsure if he was being compassionate or shaming you. Either way, the words still hurt. Sukuna himself wondered if he should’ve said that, he doesn’t exactly care for you or anything and neither has he cared for anyone in a very long time, maybe it was an inkling of the past coming through. It was true, he can’t stand watching misery, watching someone wallow in it reminded him far too much of his own upbringing and the sense of being rejected. He had to make his way to the top, to earn the title of Sukuna. He’s long forgotten his name, cursed it to the back of his mind, a part of him he doesn’t desire to remember.

Soon after, Yuji arrived with all of your food and left Sukuna with his family sized meal before entering and seeing you bundled up burrito style on your bed. He could see the redness of your face and immediately knew you were crying again or was. He didn’t acknowledge it, choosing to try and keep you in a good mood by talking about the experience at the restaurant. Luckily, because of his stupid attitude, you were laughing pretty quickly.

Then he popped a question out. “What is Sukuna watching?”

You snorted. “How to build a sex room.”

His eyes widened and his nick stretched forward. “Huh?”

You were laughing a lot harder now. “Don’t ask me, he likes what he likes. You got a freak bound to your family lineage.”

Yuji slumped down onto your floor dramatically. “Man, he’s already a handful now, I can’t imagine how much worse he’s going to get with you now.”

A yell came through the door. “I can hear you!” Yuji straightened fast and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder. He’s such an idiot.

Sukuna wasn’t too amused, hearing Yuji so openly trash talk him and very loudly. Your laughter didn’t make it any better and he found it to be out of place after what you went through. He also doesn’t appreciate being called a freak. At least you’re attempting to move on, Sukuna could applaud you for trying.

“If I hear anything else, you’ll regret it, brat!”

“Whatever!” Yuji yelled back before quieting his voice. “He’s all talk, he can’t do anything to us. Unless we tell him to. Also, he tends to say things in a really abrasive way. He didn’t say anything to you, did he?”

You told him what he said and Yuji’s face shifted back into shock. “The last part was kinda funny. Who says cock so casually?” You laughed, cupping your hand around your mouth to try and keep quiet.

“Yeah, he’s a fucking weirdo.” Yuji was too loud.

“ITADORI!” He shouted and soon enough your bedroom door was wide open. “You sure have a lot to say after I saved your friend so kindly, your ass as well, and even stayed behind to protect her. Not a single thank you.” The demon feigned offense. “Shouldn’t you be groveling and worshipping me for doing such a feat for you?”

You could tell he was mostly joking and trying to irritate Yuji, but you really did realize you needed to thank him. You can’t believe you forgot.

“Hey, listen! You are weird, you’re from like a thousand years ago and are watching a freaky-deaky show! You also have bbq sauce on your stomach mouth! You have a literal mouth on your stomach!” Yuji stood up fast but Sukuna’s towering frame made him look like a child yelling at their father.

Sukuna was grinning down at him. “Hah. Your mouth is running exceptionally fast, might I tell her about that time you got so drunk you pissed on your own floor?”

You rolled back on the bed laughing and Yuji was beat red. “You—you saw that!?”

Sukuna wiped his mouth, briefly glancing over to you. “It was entertaining, how could I not watch?”

You put your hand on Yuji’s shoulder. “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Your kindness is misplaced.”

Hearing his words, you were brought back to your thoughts and managed to make yourself stop snickering. You almost forgot again! Rising up from the bed, you stepped between the two men, confusing both of them, then you bowed your head in front of Sukuna.

His grin faded and his expression turned sober. “What’s this?”

“Thank you for saving me.” You remain bowed. “I’m sorry for not answering your question earlier, as well.”

The demon looked at your head hanging before turning around and saying, “Your apologies are unnecessary, but I will take the gratitude.” He closed your door and you lifted your head, turning back to Yuji.

“Whoa, that’s unusual.” He said. “Sukuna is usually a lot more arrogant than that. You must’ve shaken him up or something.”

You stood there for a moment, pondering Yuji’s words. It was strange, he’s someone who seems to think highly of himself but just blew off your apology like it was nothing. Especially since he was framing what he did as a favor, you expected to see more of a jovial reaction or even a degrading one. He doesn’t seem to be heartless, just a little out of touch, so his reaction does make some sort of sense. Regardless, you don’t know him all that well so perhaps something is off about your newfound bonded demon.

Sukuna sunk back into the chair and continued watching the show, or really what he was doing was watching the images while his brain ran. After watching you from the side from time to time, he determined your naive and self-sabotaging habits to be a bore and overall sad, but now that he’s interacted with you, he almost feels guilty for having seen you in such a negative light. To be so grateful to him when he expressed saving you as a favor, as an obligation, shocked him. Should you not be screeching insults and your disdain at him? Are you that much of a self-hating creature? Did he even view saving you as a favor? He didn’t know, he hasn’t felt pulled to anyone since the Heian era or connected at all in that matter. He wondered, would he have saved you if Yuji had not commanded him to? Is he a creature still capable of compassion and empathy after experiencing all that he has?

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x reader #Sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #Sukuna #jjk x you #yuji itadori

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whitemonsterfan · 8 months ago

Text

☆PINNED INTRO POST☆

BLOG TW: RESTRICTIVE 3D, MENTIONS OF S/H, CSA/TRAUMA, HYPERSEXUALITY

Hi!

I'm Tea!

I'm 18 and trans masc (he/they)

Last account was whitemonsterenjoyer

I like stars and the color red and junk food

All my posts are tagged with #☆forTea, so feel free to follow that in case I get taken down again:]

I AM PRO RECOVERY!!! Please, if you have it in you, recover. I don't think ⭐️ving is good, I just go here. This blog is a safe space for me to vent and share with people who relate. I genuinely have nowhere else to go to talk about my 3d without forced recovery. All reports will just have me making a new email.

IF YOU HAVE YOUR LIKES AND FOLLOWING PUBLIC, I WILL BLOCK YOU.

My dms are open, but I am very socially awkward lolz. Please do not interact with me if you are homophobic, transphobic, racist, a 'coach' (pedo), anti-recovery, an nsfw blog, have a fetish for feeding or restrictive eating, or post images of s/h.

Height: 5'0 (152.4 cm)

SW/HW: 120 (54.4)

CW: 90.6 (41.1)

LW: 83 (37.6)

GW1: 95 (43) ✅️

GW2: 90 (40.8)

GW3: 85 (38.5)

GW4: 80 (36)

GW5: 75 (34)

UGW: 70 (31.8) or as low as possible

#boy ana #jellyonaplate #jellyfit #jelly on a plate #☆forTea

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coeuranxieux · 1 year ago

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idv dynamic masterpost

character tags: i have not been tagging anything gonna be real. there is an au for a ghost town under #ghosttownau though

kreiburg redesign by @ollie-draws-things as are all other redesigns :3

ghost hunting saga with kreiburg

victor & andrew centric discussion (includes victor centered tea shop au)

luca redesign

emil redesign

andrew redesign

earliest discussion of the ale friend group (bounces between all 3 of them)

average victor and norton interaction (may be irrelevant)

luca sickfic concept + discussion of his time in prison, brief talk of emil and andrew + their fight or flight trauma responses

short convo about blankets and their favorite foods (may be slightly irrelevant)

canon andrew info!

brief mention of andrew's schoolplace trauma

another brief instance of schoolplace trauma directly connected to above post (this came days later)

luca headcanons! (courtesy of @olliesneweyes)

brief mention of luca things

second instance of ale dynamics (also may be irrelevant....)

andrew luca emil scarring and injury discussion

victor grantz was in the mob

1900s asylum information (related to emil)

luca+andrew prompt

"god must hate you, andrew kreiss" animatic by Robotto and touching on andrew's religious trauma and potential inferiority complex

first post touching on the concept of andrew hitting a breaking point (directly related to above post), ale dynamic is developed more and an andrew sickfic concept leading to this fic by @dulcifiedjaws

another addition to the andrew sickfic concept (notes are irrelevant here)

post where qpr polycule becomes the offical concept to the chain

long post about the dynamic, including alva's ressurection and norton as an onlooker to the qpr polycule along with andrew's concept of atonement

songs for both the andrew/luca dynamic and emil as a person, along with a brief discussion of emil's character and small scenario between andrew and emil

ale bonding activities and talk of their childhoods

hospital based emil prompts

lock and key based luca prompts

emil and andrew based long post, discusses andrew's childhood and a potential story change in which emil and andrew see each other as children instead of emil and ada

fanfiction based off above discussion (ough i wrote this one. my contribution to the trinity is done)

analysis of the saint bernard andrew kreiss animatic by sunny/ren, influences descriptions of andrew's childhood

andrew eats shit

picrew chain involving andrew's perspective of the other two and explanations by @olliesneweyes (also i publicly humiliate myself because luca doesnt have black hair or wear white)

images related to luca's experiences

images related to andrew's experiences (cw: religious trauma and negative self image)

images related to emil's experiences (cw: dehumanization and implied abuse)

analysis of a portion of void - melanie martinez regarding the andrew luca emil dynamic + relationships with victor and norton as people looking in through windows

discussion relevant to andrew's breaking point as well as a kreiburg interaction post ghost saga (plus orpheus i suppose)

short emil talk

more emil and andrew along with a brief childhood discussion

emil and luca dynamic tagged with #luca glances at him and realizes the feeling of tiredness exists #as well as yawning being contagious by @olliesneweyes

ale + norton post snapping incident plus the fanfiction for this discussion by @olliesneweyes

andrew kreiss room layout :] (related directly to above fanfiction)

concept for luca and emil finding out about andrew's repentance/worship also andrew gets compared to mothman which is. a good metaphor

rambling about andrew's anxiety and childhood trauma some more (plus norton, frederick gets introduced vaguely......)

emil shows up to the manor!!!

in correlation to above, emil's experiences getting to know the other two (plus a small andrew tangent)

norton gets discussed

concepts for Things (ale centered)

short emil fanfiction ough (courtesy of @olliesneweyes)

emil being lamb coded along with andrew and luca concepts

some more emil stuff (uwah he deserves the world)

continuation of this discussion on why norton had naught but a half loaf of bread and milk

involved characters (plus orpheus twink death)

rambling about andrew where he’s not miserable for once (very short but related discussion)

andrew’s job ramble (finally)

discussion on luca's time in prison (and a short but relevant discussion on the silent system)

another post discussing luca's canon lore

seperate picrew chain + talk of their beverage choice (norton is a part of this)

medieval au

ghost town au long post (more details tagged under #ghosttownau)

emil's introduction to above au

frederick centered discussion :]

love language post :3

someone help andrew he's so fucked (more in this vein part one and part two <- seperate discussions about the same youtube channel)

luca character talk through an analysis of a new jhariah song

revised andrew character analysis through official character tweets (extension 1 and extension 2

added conversation to above

i yell about emil + the others

andrew and the story of ingel

yelling about andrew some more

frederick learning english as a 3rd language and still being bad at it /loving

norton being petty n spiteful

what the fuck is the butler’s problem 💔

andrew and his learned habits + little bit of a concept with andrew/frederick

luca’s brain damage and how it affected his mental state

physical results of luca’s brain damage

andrew and emil dog parallels

continuation of this discussion about victors weird arm scars (TUMBLR DOESNT LIKE ITS FOR SOME REASON IM GONNA DIE)

emil and andrew dog parallels (im unwell)

coherent thoughts about andrew (song analysis 84628 /vvvpos)

gaslighting luca for information (related to this post)

victor stuff :3

mild ramble about andrew and his 5 yr old pencil grip

#how would i tag this #uhh #masterpost concept

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liauditore · 2 years ago

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A masked figure sits at the opposite side of the table, their arms by their side, sitting completely still.

"76, we would like to ask some questions."

//cw: implied childhood trauma (not detailed, 76 doesn't believe he's traumatized so he doesn't dwell on it), canon typical violence, swearing, kind of an implied sex joke (it's like one throwaway line)

ROUND ONE

[Sounds of shuffling, pacing. 76 appears to be agitated]

76: You let me go right now or I'll kick up a fuss, aight? You've seen what I can do.

The Watcher: We have, and we would be intrigued.

76: mmph… [76 lets out a low growl in frustration]

76: I just have to answer some questions and then you'll let me go, right?

The Watcher: That is not for you, or us, to know.

76: You know things would go a lot easier for all of us if you'd just talk like a normal person.

The Watcher: That's no fun.

The Watcher: Do you consider yourself an honest person?

76: A little white lie's never hurt anyone, even if they fuss about it. Conversations are about more than who's right or wrong, I reckon.

The Watcher: What do you like to eat?

76: I usually order takeout. I like to try different restaurants everytime. If I'm not sure I'll just order fast food.

The Watcher: What's your weapon of choice?

76: Usually, my fists are enough. That axe did end up growing on me eventually.

The Watcher: How does it feel to kill someone?

76: It depends on who it is.

The Watcher: Do you prefer cats or dogs?

76: Aren't both great? Most people think I'm more of a dog person but if I had to choose, I think I'd rather have a cat.

The Watcher: What was your childhood like?

76: Pretty normal, I'd say? It's not like it was perfect but I'm not traumatized or anything.

The Watcher: Do you have any regrets?

76: Um… I wish I hadn't died? I think that's pretty bloody obvious.

The Watcher: We were expecting a more… specific answer.

76: Am I being graded on this now?

The Watcher: We don't believe you're lying, but we don't think you're telling us the whole truth either.

76: … Fine, fine. I wish I was less reckless. I wish I didn't go through with Ren's dumb plan. Maybe if we were a bit more clever with our own lives then we--

[76 suddenly pauses mid-sentence and falls silent.]

The Watcher: Anything else?

76: You're never satisfied, are you?

[The Watcher remains silent]

76: I, uh… I wish I wasn't so harsh on Jimmy. I think I might've done more harm than good with that one.

[The Watcher chuckles]

76: But at the end of the day, we're all grown ups, aren't we? I'm not responsible for anyone but me. It's a game death we're in.

The Watcher: Do you regret it?

76: I regret a lot of things, I think I've made that clear.

ROUND TWO

A masked figure sits at the opposite side of the table, its legs crossed and hands planted comfortably in its lap.

"76, we would like to ask some questions."

76: So we meet again. More stupid questions.

The Watcher: Indeed.

76: Did I disappoint you, huh? Not bloody enough? Not gruesome enough?

The Watcher: It was entertaining. Watching you fail.

76: You.. You're a real piece of work, you know that?

[The Watcher remains silent]

The Watcher: Do you know how to cook?

76: Uh… Do instant noodles count? Microwave meals? I think I tried to make french toast once but, uh, it didn't turn out well and I felt bad for wasting the bread.

The Watcher: Can you describe your family?

76: Family's not really real, is it? Blood relation doesn't mean much in the long run. I think, growing up, I considered my friends my family.

The Watcher: Tell us of your friends, then.

76: I… Don't really know if there's anything worth mentioning? We were just regular kids. I was always the oldest so I always looked out for everybody. That's how things should be, right?

The Watcher: Do you like your name?

76: It's… Okay? Sometimes I wish it was something cooler but having a simple name makes it easier to get through life, I suppose.

The Watcher: Do you believe in true love? Would you like to get married?

76: God no! I'm not ready for anything like that. I've, uh, "loved" alot of women over the years, I suppose.

The Watcher: Do you have anything you'd want from us?

76: Stop talking in my ear all the bloody time. I know what I'm doing.

The Watcher: Do you like animals?

76: Pets are just another thing you have to take care of, but they're good company.

The Watcher: Do you think you're yourself?

76: No. The ”me“ you have in your head and the ”me“ that I exist within and the ”me“ that exists within the games… They're all pretty different, aren't they?

The Watcher: If the opportunity arises, would you play the game once again?

76: I won't make the same mistakes I did before.

The Watcher: Do you have any regrets?

76: I… wish I talked it out with the boys a bit more. I don't know what got into Grian near the end. Jimmy and, uh, Mumbo too… they would've had to die eventually, but I think I could've done better for them.

The Watcher: Do you regret doing it?

76: I'm not sure if I know what you're talking about.

A masked figure sits at the opposite side of the table, chin resting on her hands with fingers intertwined. She seems to radiate pity and… amusement?

"76, we would like to ask some questions.“

ROUND THREE

The Watcher: Can you tell us about your relationship history?

76: W-What kind of question is that? This isn't related to the game.

The Watcher: We're simply curious.

76: I have to answer, don't I?

[The Watcher remains silent]

76: I, uh, I had crushes like any kid did. Once I started wandering around I had a couple of flings here and there. It's not like I'm some clueless little boy. I'm not gonna get all hung up on one girl, I've got tons waiting to crawl all over me back home.

The Watcher: Did you love any of them?

76: Depends on what you mean. I think we all we were just messing around. Things would've gotten messy otherwise.

The Watcher: Do you dislike any of the other participants?

76: Scott and I can't seem to see eye to eye.

The Watcher: How come?

76: He's just, uh… I think we have clashing personalities? I just.. I don't like the way he speaks, I guess. It's nothing deep.

The Watcher: Do you dislike Scott because he takes people you care for away from you?

76: People I care…? I don't know what you mean.

The Watcher: Do you have any regrets?

76: I think we've been over this enough times.

The Watcher: Do you like yourself?

76: I'm a good person. I believe this.

The Watcher: Is there anyone you'd like to see right now?.

76: I'd… like to apologise to Cleo. Again.

The Watcher: If the opportunity arises, would you play the game once again?

76: Please give me one more chance.

The Watcher: What do you think of us?

76: You're annoying.

The Watcher: If you had one wish, what would you ask for?

76: Freedom.

The Watcher: Do you regret it?

76: I'd do it again if I had do.

ROUND FOUR

[The sound of laughter echoes through the room.]

A masked figure sits at the opposite side of the table, he leans back carelessly in his chair, clapping his hands in congratulations. He chuckles.

"76, we would like to ask some questions."

[The sound of heavy breathing is heard, broken up by hallowed laughter. Sharp inhales and choking giggles. It sounds as if 76 is in pain]

The Watcher: You seem proud of yourself

76: I fucking did it. I finally did it.

The Watcher: Do you find it—

76: Shut up. Just get to the questions.

[The Watcher snickers]

The Watcher: As you wish.

The Watcher: Which one of the other participants do you think is most like you?

76: Scott. He GETS me, y'know? It's like we have this mutual understanding. We don't have to explain ourselves to each other, it's brilliant.

The Watcher: What do you do when you're bored?

76: Usually I'd play video games or watch anime. I always find new things to keep myself entertained.

The Watcher: Do you want to go home?

76: I don't have a home.

The Watcher: Do you have any regrets?

76: None.

The Watcher: What's more important to you - someone's personality or their looks?

76: Depends on what you're looking for.

The Watcher: If the opportunity arises, would you play the game once again?

[76 laughs]

The Watcher: If you had $1000 suddenly, what would you spend it on?

76: I think I'd spend it all on things I've wanted for a long time. Games, merchandise, snacks…

The Watcher: What is your weapon of choice?

76: Whatever I can get my hands on.

The Watcher: Do you lie to yourself?

76: What would there be to lie about?

The Watcher: We think there are… feelings you won't allow yourself to admit.

76: If they mattered, I'd take care of them.

The Watcher: Do you miss your King?

76: I don't think you'd let me see him, so I don't see why you're asking.

The Watcher: Do you miss your Soulmate?

76: I said so in the game, didn't I? We've crossed that bridge.

The Watcher: How does it feel, not being needed?

76: Freeing. So fucking freeing.

The Watcher: What makes you feel the need to lie so much to me today?

76: I hate you. I've played your game. I don't owe you shit.

The Watcher: Do you regret it?

76: I'll do whatever I have to. I want to live.

NOTE: 76 is a clever and ruthless participant with a strong urge to prove himself, it's no wonder so many have been anchoring for his victory since T████ L███. However, just as a child whose favourite toy is the first to be worn out, we are concerned we may have broken him more than we anticipated.

(( i got a bit carried away LMAO. 76's player is very much one of my favourites to make messed up cus he very much leans into that already. i should mention that this series very vaguely ties into my merc au but only in like a vague ethereal sense. tagging it anyway cus i like having it all in one placeeee ))

#my writing #watcher lore #trafficblr #cw violence #cw childhood trauma #<-- very brief + cryptic on purpose but its def implied #liaumercau #fanfic

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romances-not-tragedies · 1 year ago

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sana ngayong pasko ay maalala mo pa rin ako

Summary: Holiday-related fic in which the Alcantara mother and daughter reflect on a Christmas without their relative and worrying over Jo Gar's avoidance out of guilt.

CW: mentioned character death, slight discussion of trauma

"Ay I am worried."

"About what, Inahan? We will be on our way to the Midnight Mass and go back home for the Noche Buena, and besides, our food would be smashing even when they are not as bountiful as before."

"I am not worried about our Noche Buena, anak! It is just that..."

"Oh no, what is it, Inahan?"

"It is the poor lad Jo. Ever since that little visit after his arrival from the States, he has been largely avoiding us."

"I mean, what can we do, Inahan? We lost Manong Juan, he also lost Manong Juan. He probably thought he had failed us because he was not able to save him."

"I know that, anak. But how could he have known? How could he have known where Juan was before he got killed?"

"I know. But I miss the days when Manong Juan would drag Jo to our little hovel for dinners over here, especially during Christmas because we did not--and do not--want him to be alone during the festivities. Heaven knows that Manong Juan could not bear the very thought of Jo Gar alone in his own home. He might not always be the best conversationalist, but he would join Noli with singing Christmas carols."

"Ay, but it is all different now. Now his life is made more difficult with that--whoever succeeded poor Juanito."

"Indeed. That Sadi Ratan must have had no love growing up. He'd probably be Ebenezer Scrooge from that Dickens book I'd read back in the States."

"Ay, Magdalena, you really have a way with describing people."

"A doctor has to be observant, you know that, Inahan."

"Well, here are the rest of your siblings. At least your Amahan and Manong Goyong would stop tapping their feet now."

"It is a cane I am tapping, akong gugma," mother and daughter heard Isidro Alcantara protesting.

"Sidong..." Inahan shook her head, a fond smile in her lips.

Manong Goyo cackled as he pointed out, "Inahan is right, Amahan. She probably meant it figuratively."

"You are a mathematics teacher, Goyo," the old man deadpanned to his eldest son.

"Does not mean he cannot be descriptive, Amahan!" laughed Gertrudis.

"Ay naku, I do not know what to do with you," muttered Edilberto while pinching the bridge of his nose.

The seated members of the family stood up and, still bickering good-naturedly amongst themselves, took the calesas on their way to the Neo-Gothic San Sebastian Church.

"Um, are we done with the teasing? We probably should be hurrying up to the church," Noli said.

#fanfic #jo gar #holiday fanfic #fanfic: sana ngayong pasko ay maalala mo pa rin ako #merry christmas #or happy holidays #cw: character death #cw: trauma #mention of a certain idiot lieutenant #outsider pov

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angie-words · 1 year ago

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The Way (2024): content warnings

One of the things I noticed while watching The Way is that the BBC content warnings left a little to be desired (scenes of a sexual nature and upsetting scenes). There wasn't anything on Does the Dog Die last I checked either. During a group watch, I pulled together some content warnings for folks. If you're interested in watching The Way (which I definitely recommend), but want an idea of what may come up, I've put CWs for each episode below. Obviously, spoilers as well.

Episode 1: self-immolation, accidental death, mental health issues/episode, divorce, misuse of prescription medication, drug-dealing, depression/anxiety, dysfunctional family relationships, suicide (act not graphically depicted, but discussion of and brief visual of deceased person), police violence (including real footage of police violence against striking workers), mob violence, xenophobia, racism, sex (no genitalia shown), guns/weaponry, gun violence/shootings (heard not seen), blood/injuries

Episode 2: Submersion in water/drowning, brief scene of self-immolation, brief scenes of protest suppression, dysfunctional family relationships, detainment camps, surveillance state, medication withdrawal, mistreatment of detained people, use of pepper spray, home hospice care, hallucinations, child endangerment, generational trauma, drug addiction, people escaping concealed in lorries, drug dealing, brief scenes of suicide aftermath, abandonment of family (unintentional and intentional), alcohol consumption, use of a stun gun, threat of gun violence, xenophobia, violence/injury to detained people, forceful separation of children from families, sleeping rough, arrest, family drama relating to paternity

Episode 3: alcohol, discussion about food, xenophobia, lockdowns, physical intimacy, swinging scene, jump scare, dysfunctional family relationships, brief visuals of suicide aftermath and impact on family, generational trauma, submersion in water, hallucinations, discussion of trafficking and border control, violence, injury/blood, surveillance state, brief scenes of protest violence, collaboration, police profiling/AI profiling, mention of civil war, traumatic boat crossing, separation of family, suicide, implied drowning, discovery of drowning victim, major character death, threat of gun violence, migrant pushbacks

#the way #michael sheen #adam curtis #bbc 1 #content warning #spoilers #bbc tv

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angstyaches · 2 years ago

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A scene that comes before an early-days Shayne/Charlie hunger-related request. It became very long and plot-heavy, so I decided to split it in two, at least for now.

Takes place during the prologue, sometime after Shayne confronts Charlie’s demon and before Shayne visits Charlie at home for the first time. (Note for die-hard readers: “Rin’s Exposition Inquisition” is basically being retconned and no longer canon, because I want to develop her character and story a bit more slowly in the rewrite.)

Hunger/whump happens in part two (hopefully posted later today; if not, it’ll be next week because I’m travelling again this weekend).

CW: mentions of death, anxiety, insecurities, childhood trauma, food mention, horror elements (mentioned).

___

“Hey, Charmander.”

Charlie had been peacefully eating his ham and cheese sandwich when Rin Johnson swept up next to his desk. It was rare to see her without her band of pals these days, but she was alone.

Before he could even open his mouth to question her choice to call him by a Pokemon’s name, she pulled up the empty chair from the desk in front of Charlie’s, spinning it around to face him.

As she sat, she drew a couple of glances from some of Charlie’s classmates who’d formed little groups throughout the room. It wasn’t against the rules for students from other tutor groups to eat in another tutor group’s base classroom, but it was a little unusual. If people wanted to mingle, they went outside, or to the canteen, to eat. Rin usually went to the latter.

There was also the fact that as far as secondary school social hierarchy was concerned, Rin was considered royalty. Not quite a queen bee, but perhaps a princess.

“Charmander?” Charlie asked.

Rin smiled secretively, propping her lunch bag on an empty corner of Charlie’s desk. “We’re officially friends now, and I have a whole bunch of nicknames I want to try out on you.”

Her floral water bottle was placed on Charlie’s desk, too, while Rin rummaged in her lunch bag. She started tearing into the wrapping on her sandwich.

She hadn’t bothered to tie her hair in its usual space buns today, and it fell in fiery-orange waves around her shoulders. She had a small streak of pink glitter drawn across each eyelid, and she didn’t seem to have noticed that a speck of it was stuck to one of her glasses lenses.

She looked up at him, chewing. “You don’t even want to question me on the ‘us officially being friends now’ thing? I was getting ready to bribe you. I brought Tucs!”

In case he thought she was bluffing, she put down her sandwich, reached into her lunch bag again, and pulled out a snack-sized packet of salted crackers.

“You don’t have to bribe me, Rin,” Charlie smiled. “I already thought of you as my friend.”

She smiled in what seemed to be relief, which was a bit confusing to Charlie. What exactly had she expected to happen?

His gaze was drawn back to the packet of crackers she’d put on his desk. He remembered taking them to primary school to have as a snack, and he was suddenly in the mood to relive his youth. “Although, I do kind of want to open those.”

“Go for it! A bribe’s a bribe, even if it was unnecessary.”

Charlie picked up the packet and split the side of the wrapper. “Share them?”

“Sure.”

“When you really think about it,” Charlie said as he opened the packet, “I’m the one who should have been begging you to be my friend.”

Rin frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Charlie grinned. “You’re so much cooler than I am, Rin. And even if you weren’t… I mean –” Charlie pulled a cracker out and used it to gesture all around him. There were about fifteen other students in the room, all convening at different points and at a considerable distance from Charlie’s desk. “I can’t exactly afford to be picky, can I?”

Rin bit into her sandwich and glanced around too, though she seemed to be looking for somebody, rather than following Charlie’s point.

“Well, we do have something essential in common, you and I,” she said around a mouthful. A conspiratorial look crossed her face as she swallowed and leaned in closer. “Something that binds us.”

Charlie bit back another smile, not wanting her to think he was laughing at her. He adored the way Rin could romanticise the mundane, or make a lunchtime chat feel like he was being indoctrinated to a secret society.

“Okay, well now I have to ask,” he said, crunching down on his Tuc. “What is it?”

“Rejection.” Rin wrinkled her nose, as though the word tasted bad in her mouth. “From the same boy.”

All of the heat, along with the remnants of his smile, left Charlie’s face. What the hell kind of rumours were going about now?!

“What – I haven’t – what are you talking about?”

Rin gave a thin smile and touched the back of Charlie’s hand. “Shayne Devine rejected my friendship, too. Only that was about… wow, I guess it was about twelve years ago.”

Charlie barely had time to settle his frantic heart – friendship, she’s just talking about friendship – before his head started reeling with this new information.

“You knew him twelve years ago?”

“Well, yeah. We went to primary school together.”

Charlie nodded, battling a sudden wave of despair. Of course. That made sense. Rin and Shayne had grown up in the same town. They knew each other from way back. Meanwhile, Charlie had never been in one place long enough to hold down a friendship for longer than a year, let alone know anybody from way back. The only people he knew from way back were family members, most of whom he wouldn’t have anything to do with if he wasn’t forced.

“I tried so hard to get him to be my friend, but he would never even come to my birthday parties.” Rin dropped the remnants of her sandwich back into her lunch bag and pulled a pot of yoghurt and a spoon.

Charlie nodded again. The birthday party thing was a big deal. Ingrid had insisted he go to every party he was invited to, even if he didn’t know the birthday kid for very long. Charlie had always suspected there was a political force behind children’s birthday parties. Like the more birthday parties your child attended, the better it reflected on you as a parent. He tucked that thought away for later interrogation.

Rin peeled the lid from her yoghurt pot and began licking it clean. Charlie realised he wasn’t even remotely surprised that she was the kind of person who did this.

“So, Shayne was always… the way he is?”

Rin tilted her head to one side. “Well, he was always extremely shy…”

Charlie struggled to swallow a mouthful of his food. After the number of insults he’d been handed by the person in question, he wondered how anyone could ever describe him as shy. He took another bite of his sandwich to keep himself from making a shady remark.

“But he wasn’t always so…” Rin glanced towards Shayne’s empty desk, as though it might be listening in and would report back to him later.

“Cranky?” Charlie suggested sheepishly.

Rin flinched. “Sure. Let’s go with that. That only happened after his parents died.”

Charlie nearly dropped his jaw, and a mouthful of his sandwich along with it. Nobody had ever mentioned this before. Charlie had known Shayne was adopted, but he hadn’t known that Shayne had once lived with his biological parents.

“They… died?”

Rin frowned. “You didn’t know?”

Charlie shook his head.

“Oh. Crap. Um, sorry, babe! I’m used to everybody knowing everything about everybody. But, yeah, they died when we were, like… I guess nine or ten.” Rin’s eyes became unfocused for a few seconds. “Well, let’s see. We had Miss O’Rourke as our teacher that year, I think… yeah, we were ten. It messed him up really badly.”

“I can imagine,” Charlie whispered numbly. Judging by the way she had started staring blankly into her yoghurt pot, Shayne’s parents’ death had probably affected Rin in some way, too. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and cleared her throat. “I guess what I was trying to say is that I get it. He acts like he doesn’t want anything to do with you, but he still sort of… pulls you towards him, doesn’t he?”

Yes. He didn’t trust himself to say it out loud, certain that he’d betray the depth of his feelings if he did.

He nodded.

“I guess I always thought it was just me.”

Charlie was entranced by how much this conversation seemed to be affecting Rin’s mood, like it was sucking her entire personality away from her. It must have been an extremely sad story...

Charlie stiffened as goosebumps rocketed up and down his body. No. No, it couldn’t be… Someone would have told him…

Right?

“Uh, Rin?”

She listlessly picked up a Tuc and popped it in her mouth. “Uh-huh?”

Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. Charlie swallowed the fear in his throat. “Shayne’s parents weren’t involved in that… that tragedy that happened at Mulberry, were they?”

Rin’s eyes took on that glassy, faraway look again. Charlie thought she was going to slip into the habit that most people had, of avoiding that particular topic at any cost. He half expected her to tip her yoghurt all over his desk, exclaim about how clumsy she was, and run off to get some paper towels, only to never return.

“They…” She seemed to swallow with some difficulty. “They were kind of unusual, from what I remember. Shayne’s mum was… She was so beautiful and kind, but always carried this air of, like, sadness. But her pies were always the best thing at the school bake sales. I didn’t know much about his dad, but my dad got along well with him. I… I don’t think I stopped crying for a week after they…”

Charlie felt a lump in his own throat. He’d only been able to stomach reading a few details about the incident; he couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be a kid growing up in a town with a story like that attached to it.

But beneath his sadness, there was a pit of anger bubbling. How had no one thought to mention this to him before?

“Anyway.” Rin drew a circle in her yoghurt with her spoon. “Have you… Have you been out in the woods since you moved in?”

“No,” Charlie croaked. “They give me a weird feeling.”

Rin looked up, her spoon stilling. The absent look fled her eyes, leaving behind what could only be described as... desperation? Like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, and the only person who could grab her and pull her to safety was Charlie.

Charlie was just relieved that some of that furtive intensity was coming back to her.

“What kind of feeling?” she whispered.

“I…” Charlie’s heart sank as he tried to gather the words. “I don’t know. It’s…”

Careful. The voice insisted. She doesn’t know.

She might know, Charlie thought, examining the interrogative look in Rin’s eyes.

She doesn’t.

She… kind of acts like she knows.

Charlie…

“It’s kind of like… I’ll walk up to the edge of the garden feeling normal, and as soon as I think about putting my foot over the line, it’s like this huge wave of nausea crashes over me. I look through those trees and it feels like… like I’m staring into the ribcage of some huge… decaying… corpse.”

Rin put down her yoghurt with an air of finality.

“Sorry,” Charlie muttered, placing the last section of his sandwich back in its box.

“No, no, you’re good.” Rin drummed her fingers against the table. “You know, everyone says there’s something weird about Mulberry, but as soon as you start getting into detail, they just...”

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. Does she know? ... Maybe she knows.

“Crap! I have to go,” Rin exclaimed, glancing at her watch. “I completely forgot there’s a yearbook meeting today.”

She gave Charlie a pleading look, like she wanted to be rescued from something, as she packed away her lunch.

Charlie grimaced. “Um... sorry this turned so dark.”

“Oh – no, don’t be sorry for that.” Rin’s eyebrows knitted together. “You have any idea how much of a relief this was?”

“It… was kind of a relief,” Charlie said. This was the first time in weeks that he’d been given new information, either about his house or about his desk neighbour. He also hadn’t mentioned how much the woods at Mulberry unnerved him to anybody else, and he could feel a new lightness where it’d been weighing on his chest.

He didn’t really know what made it a relief for Rin, but that was what he liked about her company. They seemed to understand each other’s emotions, even if it wasn’t clear how they’d arisen.

I’ll tell her, he realised. I’ll tell her everything. Another time.

“You have my number, right?” he asked.

“I – yeah, I think so.”

“Do you want to come over this weekend?”

Rin raised her eyebrows. “Yes. Please. I’ll text you.”

“Cool.” Charlie watched Rin scoop up her bag. “Have fun at your meeting.”

“With a room of self-obsessed control freaks? How could I not have fun, Charlie Bear?” Rin tilted her head as she stood up. A hint of her smile crept back. “Hey, I like that one.”

#StW Rin #StW Charlie #Swallow the World #OC stuff #plot stuff #death mention #parental death mention #horror #horror mention

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unhingedselfships · 2 years ago

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YakKimi Kadokura-verse Masterlist Pt2

Undated (I can provide where they fit if asked, but its largely irrelevant in most cases)

Kadokura 'shoots' Kimi, for medical reasons aka arthritis sucks

Touching up the dye job

Kimi's bad parenting part one of many

Mio loves her Uncle Kenshi, and also knives

Mio coerces Kadokura into a zoo trip

Cherry Blossom Festival cuteness

Kimi talks about one of the worst nights of her life (cw:grief, discussion of reaction to death)

Kimi talks about a different terrible night in vaguer terms (cw:past CSA mention)

Kimi just really hates seafood

Why Kenshi wears turtlenecks

Kimi can't temperature regulate for shit

When the pain hits 10

Kimi is needy when sad

Not the first loss (cw:pregnancy loss/miscarriage)

Kimi has some food related trauma (cw:eating disorder mention)

Affair accusations are common, and unfounded

Kimi is stubborn and will use windows as entry points

Kadokura is not amused with the girls antics (NSFT/Smut)

Kenshi killed someone Kimi knows

Kimi's filter vanishes when sufficiently drunk

Kimi is pregnant and why yes her hair is more important than you

Kimi is pregnant again and yes, she is still more important

The kids see Kenshi all messy and Kichi has questions

Yayoi actually goes to bat not exactly for Kimi but kinda

Kimi is really a terrible parent

Kimi believes in soulmates

One should be careful when handling a fanatic

Dumbass got herself shot (cw: gun violence, blood, dissociation)

Kimi thinks of impossible things and gets sad

The marriage thing is complicated ok?

Kimi says something about Airi that was meant to be left unsaid

Kimi really likes how Kenshi looks in red

Kenshi has weird coping mechanisms and Kimi helps (cw: choking)

Kimi also has weird coping mechanisms and also knows other people (cw: choking)

Pigs will eat anything, be wary of pig farmers (cw: death)

Kimi has body issues and Kenshi can be sweet in his way

Kenshi really likes Kimi's body in his own odd way

Kimi is jealous and fussy

Kimi cannot hold her alcohol for shit

Phe hates Kadokura but she wants Kimi to be happy

Kimi forgets that she is into some rough shit and startles Kenshi (cw: implied consensual rough sex/kink)

Kimi gushes about Kenshi to a random party goer

Teenage Airi is an absolute shit, we love him for it

Kimi has a dirty mouth and dirtier thoughts (cw: explicit discussion of smut)

Kimi dreams about a wedding that she believed would never happen

This girl is absolutely smitten, its almost gross (NSFT/smut)

Kimi gets drunk and nippy

Making up stories about Kenshi's scars

Main timeline Kimi has a dream about Yakuza Kadokura and yeah (cw: kinks)

Kimi was dumb, got hurt, and tried to hide it

Kimi's only real form of exercise

Kenshi has a very vivid dream and wakes up needy (NSFT/Smut)

Kimi gets drugged and freaks out (cw: involuntary drug use)

Kenshi gets tired of Kimi being horny all the time

Kimi was planning that wedding for ages

She worked very hard on a dress she never thought she'd wear

AUs

Chibi-hime and Mommy-chan (Sagawa lives somehow AU)

Kimi maybe dies and its very sad

YakuKura-Verse, Kimi is autistic as hell

Daigo has a different answer to the affair rumors

YK- Kimi learns she has a kink

YK- Kimi learns she has another kink (NSFT/smut)

YK - In which Kimi was a virgin (NSFT/smut)

YK- Kimi goes fully unhinged in a jealous fit (cw: blood, death, dissociation)

YK - kimi is possessive and unhinged and yakuza!kadokura is ok with that Majimemegoro Exclusive!

YK - Kimi goes fully unhinged in a protective fit (cw: gun violence, death, blood)

YK - Kimi goes fully unhinged because she has just lost the plot (cw: gun violcence, gang violence)

YK - Kimi gets a new knife, and shows it off

MASTER LIST PT 1

#yakkimi #majimemegoro #kadokura kenshi #kadokura-verse #all aboard the ss naughty in some of these #masterlist #master list #if anything needs a/n (additional) content warning lemme know okie?

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sumechiayuu · 2 years ago

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Miscellaneous danganronpa headcanons (may or may not have said them already, CW for mentions of abuse btw)

Sayaka resents Leon because of his ignorant views on the music industry

Pre tragedy Hina invites Mukuro to work out with her and Sakura

Kyoko is ok at cooking and she makes everyone but byakuya good food. She gives everyone like good tea and Byakuya boiled gatorade just to see him squirm.

Toko is the type to autocorrect other’s text messages

Junko watched 1000 ways to die and true crime to get inspo for executions

Komaru loves listening to K-pop. Also she would listen to NCT-Sticker as Toko watches in horror. Makoto joins in on the K-pop enjoyment as well

Toko is good at cooking. She's good at this because her parents would never cook for her so she had to learn it herself. Genocide Jack burns the kitchen though

Whenever genocide jack fronted she would be the one taking like half of the abuse at home except she’s less scared to try and fight back. Unfortunately it doesn't work

Omg I thought of some angst rn (why toko hates bathing)

The reason why Toko hates bathing is that when she was younger as a form of punishment she would be forced to strip and get hosed down with scalding hot water, and now she has trauma related to it

#sumechiaspeaks #danganronpa

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digitallynumb-syscourse · 22 days ago

Note

For the ask game how about 15 & 26?

Ask Game

15. 🍎 What different tastes do you have across alters?

The main taste difference we've noticed is some alters can handle spice really well and others absolutely will die if they try to eat the same food

26. ✏️ Have you ever written anything about systemhood?

Yes, we've written two different fics related to DID specifically. We do want to write more in the future but we're starting our second job again so who knows when that might happen. But if you want to read what we have (please do read tags before reading):

Smoke And Mirrors - focuses on a child learning about their system and then growing up

cw// mentions of child abuse, programming, general trauma, organized abuse type stuff

Power Rangers Galactic Force - an original power rangers story with one of the main characters being a DID system, so it's not always mentioned but is there (it's 400k words so best of luck if you want to read it)

cw// violence, murder, cursing, torture

#system ask game

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voidselfshipp · 6 months ago

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Culture Clash.

Cw: mentions of trauma,very superficial. age gap between ryad n I.

Summary: Ryad's (Jackal) First meeting with Jerico(Tarantula)..

A/n: Canon for now. Not sure if I'll stick with it. Only mutuals allowed to reblog.

Harry had brought the New operator,Tarantula,to meet with the spanish and latin operators so she felt More at home. Ryad wasnt sure what he was expecting,but he knew she was young,that she hasnt seen combat,She was a recon operator.

His eyes widened a little,he pursed his lips and felt his throat dry out. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Mira smile welcomingly at the New operator before them.

--Everyone,This Is Tarantula. --Harry gestured at the young girl before them. She had heart- shaped face,greyish-green eyes with gold and brown hair tied up in a bun. The back of her neck Is shaven,and she had a myriad of bead and woven bracelets on her left wrist,alongside a black circlet earring on her right earlobe. She wears a mix of military clothes with a ripped up jacket that reads more as punk than army.

Her eyes look a little puffy,deep eyebags on the underside of her lids. Ryad cant help but relate to the lack of sleep. He thinks it adds to her charm and Beauty.

--My Name's Jerico. But please just call me Jeri,I hate being called by my full name--She said in spanish,her Argentine accent clear in their voice. So thats why Harry was so adamant...

--hey! Whats up!--Flores said with a grin,giving a cheek kiss to Tarantula as Argentines often did--Welcome! What part of Argentina are you from?

--Buenos Aires!

--Me too! What part?

Already its obvious those two are two peas in a pot. The rest introduce themselves and when it comed to his turn, Ryad feels extremely awkward. He smiles nervously and offers his hand.

--My name's ryad. Callsign is Jackal--He said,his heart fluttering as her hand meets his and shakes it--Welcome.

Jer smiles sheepishly, shes been a bit nervous. Its only natural,too much people already. --thanks...I have to say ryads a really pretty name. Never heard it before.

He chuckled,feeling a little bashful--thanks. Jerico is a pretty name too.

--I chose it! -- now she seems genuienly insecure and worried.

--Youve got good taste,then-- Jackal flirts with her before hes able to realize what hes done. It dawns on him as soon as hes done talking,and out of the corner of his eyes mira is holding back a grin. Oh god.

--Im sure you'll all get along swimmingly--Harry seems very amused. Especially as Jer looks at the floor and whispers "gracias"-- Ill leave you all to chat. Welcome to rainbow Miss castro.

Jer nodded,still bashful-- Thank you,Harry.

--Of course.

The Group leads the New operator to the cafeteria to Grab lunch and chat. Jerico began to talk about herself,and Ryad listens attentively. He asks a few questions when She tells everyone that shes the eldest of four.

And ever so slowly,he takes her whole attention. Flores fights him for it, and Mira is so amused. Jerico leaves to Grab a bottle of coke from the serving area,and mira says

--Estas coladisimo por la chavala...--Elena teased,gently elbowing him in the ribs. (Youre so smitten for this girl)

--Deja de decís gilipolleses..-- Ryad grumbled,looking at his Plate and playing with his food--Es majisima. No puedo ser el único que piensa eso...--he looked at his fellow spanish speakers for help.

(stop saying dumb things. Shes very charismatic,I cant be the only one who thinks so!)

Flores snorted-- hermano,le estas tirando los galgos hace una hora.. déjate de joder. Estas clavadisimo por la piba...(Bro,cmon. Youve been flirting with her for an hour. Stop playing dumb,youre smitten).

--Que no....(no)

--que si,tío.--Elena insisted-- coño,que si quieres salir con ella tienes mi apoyo. Yo diría que es mutuo... (yeah dude. Shit,if you want to go out with her,youve got my support. Id say she feels the same).

--mira,Boludo,te estaba mirando como que sos el chabon más lindo de toda Grecia. Anda,pedile de salir... (look,dude,she was looking at you like youre the prettiest guy in all of greece. Go,ask her out.)

Jackals about to say something, but Jerico comes back looking tired.-- Hey,I changed my mind..i'd like to go to my room and rest.. The exhaustion after eating kicked in.

Flores got this look like hes up to something--Id love to help you get to your room but Mira and Solis here are taking me to the r&d labs to test out a few things on my gadget. Capitao and Caveira have training to do...And..--The Group sees Goyo and Amaru enter the cafeteria-- Azu and Cesar are just getting to eat so..Ryad? Mind doing a solid for the New guy?

Ryad gives the Argentine Man his best glare. He doesnt let the girl see it, though, if she thinks shes being an annoyance to him...he might just end up losing it.

--not at all,no-- he answered,turning to Jerico.

--No rush though!! Please finish eating first...-- she takes a Seat where she previously was and conversation returns.

Eventually,the lunch time is over and Jackal begins to walk tarantula to the quarters area. Shes pleaseant company,and he can see how slowly she begins to warm up to him and relax. As they walk she takes off the jacket she was wearing,revealing a sports top underneath.

He sees now that on her right bicep theres a tattoo of a rhinoceros beetle resting on a Ceibo flower- The National flower of Argentina,being highlighted by these beautiful curling letters with dramatic lines, its highly decorated and maximalist. He recognized the style of the lettering as Fileteado Porteño, a beautiful thing really. The text read "La fuerza de Argentina está caminando a mi lado" (the strength of Argentina is walking by my side).

He sees that on her left forearm theres a tattoo of a tarantula. Beautiful with elegant lines that denote Power and dangerous beauty.

--Thats a really nice pair of tattoos youve got-- Ryad commented, both were waiting on a pair of humveees to drive by them since they were almost to the quarters area-- Arent they a little counterintutive,since youre recon and all..

Jer shrugged with a sheepish smile,clearly not the first time this has been pointed out--theres ways to cover them up. Make up and all that.

He chuckled--Good Point. Whats the meaning behind them? I figure the tarantula one is because of your callsign and what youve told us about the context behind it,Why the beetle though?

She begins to tell him about the symbolism behind it, how they represent rebirth and strength,things shes experienced and felt because of her life. He really likes how with her theres always a reason for everything,even of sometimes its just because "she liked it" or "felt like it"

Ryad listens attentively,surprised pleseantly at the level of maturity she carried. It doesnt feel like shes talking with someone who just Turned twenty.

Calm,thats what she made him feel. A sense that hes been seen and understood. Shes warm and friendly,kind and funny...its Like the sun is shining upon him for the first time in years. Like everything would be alright.

Its odd to feel so smitten. Hes experienced love before but he is starting to believe that hes never met anyone like Jerico before... And he realizes he just wants more of them.

The very Next day he begins to try and befriend Tarantula. He does feel guilty for being so much older than her and flirt with her,but she takes it well- And though shes bashful(seeing as shes never had this level of attention directed towards her) she tries to return It. Jeri seems unsure of how,but she managed to confirm shes into him too.

Being a scarred Man as he is,it does takes him months to ask her out. He does try to show his interest as often as hes comfortable with, and he is aware that Jerico trusts him. She feels so comfortable and its something you can actually see.

Her eyes are calm,shes smiling and in a good mood. She doesnt apologize when her excitement overcomes her,when her voice rises and she gets quite energetic. She had expressed a certain insecurity about her but its just a visceral show of joy,how could he not like it? He needed something- someone like that.

Ryad shows through his actions that he can be trusted, and he begins to realize now of the privilege thats being bestowed upon him. Not only the normal show of trust,but the genuine surrender of barriers and protection.

Jerico was an Open book about her trauma,only going into detail when she felt comfortable. And she did that a lot with him,and in turn he told her a few things of his upbringing. When he kind of low key made it clear about Faisal's passing,he got the biggest bear hug ever and the gentlest "Im so sorry..." it almost made him cry.

Hes never felt so understood in his life. He saw the effort she put into understanding him,and she was patient...so very patient and loving with him.

Finally,after a few good months into knowing her, he asked her out. Its not like she didnt drop hints that she wanted him to take her out, and hes taken note of everything shes said in those clues for the perfect date. Hes thorough,professional and most of all a gentleman.

Ryad approaches Jerico after training one rainy,cozy afternoon. He calls her over and says.

--Oye,estuve pensando...y viendo como esta el dia se me ocurrió que podríamos ir a tomar un café juntos. Yo invito. (Hey,ive been thinking and seeing how the weather is today..I thought we could go out to Grab coffee, my treat)

Her face is priceless. Her eyes widen and she takes a hot second to realize what he said. But when it clicks she nodds all shy. She hasnt prepared for this at all.

--Asi casual,No? (Like...casual?)

The Man shook his head-- Quiero invitarte a salir,si estas cómoda con ello. (I want to ask you out on a date, if youre comfortable with it)

--Ah...-- she said,obviously aware of what he meant since the first time he said it..but just confirming-- Dale. Si, de una. Nos bañamos y eh...vamos? .(ah,yeah. Of course. We showe and go?)

--Vale. --He smiled,using his years of experience to flash a flirty smile her way which has her swooning without feeling out of control. (Alright)

She had talked about how when shes overwhelmed with flirting it makes her really nervous and insecure.

Both were deeply damaged people,but together they seem to melt and fill the cracks caused by hurt and past tauma.

--Cool...Cool. ehm..permiso-- She walks past him all afluster and goes to get her things. Before she leaves she smiles briefly at him,her face Burning. Then,she leaves. (Cool,cool. Uhm..excuse me)

Ryad would leave soon after,giving her some time and space for herself so she didnt get nervous or feel like shes forced to make conversation.

Eventually when he goes to pick her up at her room,he offers his arm and with his words he helps her calm down. He makes an off coment of how its nice that she doesnt hide her interest in him,that he really likes it and makes him feel calm.

That makes her fully relax and return to her usual self.

Needless to say,both would be coming back from town with the desire for a second date,and defenetly a third...and a fourth...and a fifth..

#ryad/jackal #queen tarantula|r6s s/i

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kokoro-no-kintsugi · 10 months ago

Text

Session II

CW/TW: mentions/allusions to ab-se, r-pe, s-bst-nce use, s-lf h-rm, s--cide attempts..a lot. Proceed with caution.

"I think it's time to get into the thick of it. Can you tell me what makes you hate yourself so much?"

Sure, I guess. I'll give you the long version.

It started when I was very young. It started with angry words from shouting voices that belonged to the people meant to love me and keep me safe. It started with abuse from otherwise trusted babysitters. It started with me being wrong for protecting myself, with me being too much, with me not knowing any better when I was barely conscious as a person yet.

Nobody remembers the bad things except for me. I guess it's easy when that's just a weekday afternoon for them, but I unfortunately took it as trauma in my formative years.

I'd like to say it got better. Sadly, no, as I aged into school years, I found out that you cannot beat perfection into a kid, but you can beat them into being a perfectionist for the rest of their lives, apparently. You can make them terrified of being themselves if "themselves" were seen as a child with "behavioral problems". You can make them overly analytical and second-third-fifth guess themselves because mistakes are not tolerable.

That's when the family deaths started. A man I was not blood related to that had treated me like his own grandchild since the day I was born, and one of the scarce amount of family I did not feel the pressure to put on a perfect kid act for, and arguably my favorite adult in my life back then..I'd watched him lose toes, his foot, and eventually his leg up to the thigh, along with his kidney function. But no one expected when he went under for surgery the last time that it would indeed be the last time. I balled my little eyes out for him. When he passed, he also took any relationship I thought I had with my grandmother with him. As I know now, good riddance. As I knew then, though, why didn't she want to spend time with me anymore? What did I do wrong? I learned many years later, she wished that my father--and by proxy, myself--didn't exist at all.

Then it was a distant great uncle, whom I'd only ever known as a funny family nickname until I saw his obituary. Another adult I'd loved to spend time with, although it was rare due to the distance. He taught me about his garden, how he'd save table scraps from his and his wife, a sweet Asian woman he'd brought home with him after a war, and turn them into compost. Turned out that soy milk and tofu were pretty good when he'd let me try them. His funeral was tough, being tired from the night before...

The night before, turns out I was just small enough to be slid through my aunt's kitchen window. My uncle, who had a penchant for alcohol, had fell asleep (so we thought) on the couch in the back room, leaving my aunt effectively locked out of her house. We couldn't have that, my dad and I, so we helped her get back inside so she could work on cooking food for the next day (we tended to eat a lot after funerals, perhaps that explains why my depression/grief always has such an appetite). Our aunt, however, was unable to meet us for my great uncle's wake. Fresh from the memorial service, a phone call struck us all like lightning; we were meeting her at a larger hospital in the city we'd traveled to for the funeral. My uncle, sadly, had not been sleeping when we'd broken my aunt back into her home the night before. My aunt discovered the next morning when he'd still not moved from the couch that he was unresponsive and that something was very, very wrong. That something being a brain aneurysm. He'd been airlifted from our small town to the hospital we'd be headed to shortly. I sobbed into my slightly older cousin's shoulder and her into mine; it's not exactly a picnic as a kid to walk out of a funeral basically into the next one in progress.

I'd never felt such a level of grief in my life until then, yet I remember my older family harshly quieting us down instead of giving us any sort of consoling. I, at some point, had taken this as emotions are meant to be quiet, bottled up, and dealt with alone. Terrible lessons for a child, I know, but I guess they didn't.

Somewhere in there, I went from being an only child to being an involuntary third parent to three siblings, who went from being difficult because they were infants to being difficult because of their own mental dissonances. As I like to put it up, we're all very different shades of fucked up.

Then, I was a teenager. A 14 year old with a quiet rebellious streak and a fondness for an older boy. An older boy that had his own problems and abuse he faced at home. An older boy who needed a pretty punching bag. It was mostly emotional abuse, destruction of any self worth I'd tried to make for myself, sexual abuse..though, I'd gotten pushed around and mistreated physically from time to time as well.

I got taught how to shut up about my feelings a lot more efficiently. Also, as a testament to the impressionability of a young teen, I learned a new method for dealing with pent-up pain, hurt, and growing self-loathing from a television show. I put a knife to my skin for the first of what would be many, many more times. I lined my arms with neatly spaced cuts, feeling some sort of relief when they welled with droplets of blood.

Sandwiched in the middle of said mistreatment, I met arguably the worst person I ever could have--the only good to have come from meeting him is that it lead to my current life. Just freshly over the line for statutory status in my state, and desperate for a love that didn't hurt, I happily threw myself at him. He seemed to give a damn about the scars on my wrists and my wellbeing in a way that no one else had been in my life so far. I sure as hell didn't give two shits that he was 5 years my elder, I mean, I was already with an older (17 to my 15) boy right? What's the difference? I spent a weekend with him behind my parents backs, and in the process learned that women could in fact be on the receiving end of sexual favors (I'll let you figure out why I didn't know until then).

The next weekend, I tried to spend with him too. I felt loved and happy for once, and I felt like a junkie looking for my next high as I hoped to spend more time with him. My father, though, being off that weekend, was meticulous in trying to keep up with his eldest daughter in the way that he always was until I moved out on my own. I was caught in my lie, and when what happened beforehand came out, my parents were angry in a way I'd never seen before. Having to tearfully explain it all over to a police officer, being forced apart from someone I cared about until I was at least 18, and being threatened with a military/corrective academy/group home when I did try to contact him one more time... I'd never felt more hated as a person than I did then.

Until my freshman year was over, I spent my time at school in constant tears and watching the great grades I'd once had slide quickly into the garbage. I knew what was ahead of me that summer anyway; any contact I could've had with the outside world was to be cut off, and I'd be stuck in a house with siblings I couldn't help but resent at the time and parents I was convinced didn't even want me as a kid anymore.

I think I made it nearly to July before I tried to ride the sewer slide into what I hoped would be a forgiving afterlife. I still remember the feeling of the overdose rather vividly. I grabbed a bottle of pills of mine that weren't being used and wouldn't be missed--I swallowed what was in the bottle. I hadn't researched this in any way of course, so it most likely wasn't a deadly dosage. But the feeling of losing feeling in my legs sure felt like my soul was being lifted from this heavy waste of a body, so I pulled myself onto my bed and fell into a silent darkness.

From my best guess, I woke up a day later. My absence hadn't been noted, and I felt an extra curse on my being that I was still alive. Why did I continue to survive in a world I wanted no part in? (I guess so I could get to where I am now..)

Sophomore year came finally to save me from my crippling loneliness. I slowly fell back in to some sort of normalcy, and took on a new personality in the form of ROTC. The rigid structure rekindled my need to excel, and I eventually leaned so far into it that, in the moments that my older boyfriend from prior didn't manage to dash it, I reclaimed some sort of power for myself. I made friends, I worked hard, I cut my hair short and leaned into the person I wanted to be.

Which was easier before the sexual assault. An older cadet had taken note of me, and decided to prey upon my naivety in the form of a late evening outing to a private pool. Why not? I trusted my fellow cadets well enough. In the swimming we'd done before the sun fell down, I found myself constantly fending off advances. I tried very hard to convince him I wasn't interested. So, he finally said he'd take me home. Crisis averted, or so I'd hoped. Wrong.

I had no idea what road we were on, out in the countryside in the dark now. I had no idea why he'd pulled over and parked until he was on top of me. I begged him to stop. I just wanted to go home. He'd forced himself inside and if I hadn't thrown him off by making up a pretend phone call with my "worried mother", I don't want to think about how much farther it would've gone. When I finally stumbled through the front door in the pitch dark, that same "mother" half-asleep on the couch, asked if I'd had fun. I'm sure I mumbled something to get away to my room and fell asleep in tears.

I wish I could say I had some time that summer to process what happened to me, or even talk to somebody about it. Of course though, I didn't. Story of my life so far (ha ha, I'm funny).

July the 4th. One of the last days I would spend with my first boyfriend. We were part of a bigger group of friends hanging out in a friend of a friend's pool, and I thought we were having fun. I guess, though, my playfulness had come off as aggravating, and I was swiftly punished in a way that I still can't quite shake to this day. He shoved my head under the water, and as my playful squirming quickly devolved into panicked struggling, I felt myself honest to god drowning under the arms of a boy that I had spent the last two years loving and serving as an unofficial girlfriend. Before I could feel my mind slide completely from the lack of air, I aimed my teeth at his chest and bit him with everything I had in that moment. Finally, I was let go, and as I broke the surface, I could barely take in any air for the coughing up of water.

A couple of friends tried to tell him he'd done something fucked up just then, but he shrugged it off. The day ended with his apology of "if I'd meant to drown you, I would've fucking done it." One friend in particular had stayed in my aide, and I tried to take solace in it.

Too bad that it had to be another boy with nothing good on his mind. That also couldn't take no for an answer. Imagine white knighting a girl from an abusive boy just to drag her out to your remote, empty house with no cell signal and turn 10 "no"s into a "whatever, get it over with". I'm glad he found somebody else to date when junior year started, because the last thing I needed to do was be romanced by another creep.

Except, to no one's surprise at this point, I was. Just not the same guy from above. It wasn't an uncomfortable relationship at first, we'd struck up a quick friendship in ROTC, and I quickly became his long distance now-exgirlfriend's public enemy number one. She brought out the worst in me, causing my mountain of insecurities and once targetless rage to culminate in a hateful campaign against her. I did things I wasn't and still am not proud of doing, but it was nothing particularly harmful or illegal...just made me look like (and feel like) a nutjob. I guess I wasn't too happy about having someone I barely knew of threaten my wellbeing however she could.

Right, this is supposed to be about the newest installment to my dating history at the time, not her. Our relationship wasn't particularly notable in the beginning, I think the only change was that I actually started liking sex instead of it feeling like a chore. Life came and went around us.

I started experimenting with otc pills not long afterward, remembering the pleasant feeling of floating off when I'd attempted over my freshman summer. I'd also sporadically add in a prescription pain killer my mom had stashed in the same cabinet; at my worst, I'd mixed it with sleeping meds as well as a migraine medicine with caffeine, downing the lot of them with a cup of coffee. This is the first time in my life I'd ever known what "high" felt like. It'd been a short lived experimentation, though, perhaps a month at most.

It had luckily (if you could call it that) coincided with my grandmother raiding the medicine and liquor cabinets in the midst of a mental breakdown, so I'd gotten away with it in the end. Not so lucky, though, I'd been the first to find her covered in bloody scars. I remember her apologizing, trying to explain what had happened, and though I'm sure she doesn't remember, I'd simply responded that I understood with a vague motion at my own scars.

Eventually, things sorted themselves out, at least a bit. I went to my boyfriend's senior prom, watched him graduate, we went on a vacation to the beach with his family, blah blah. If we weren't constantly on the edge of an argument, I might've said I was happy.

My senior year came. I dropped ROTC as I'd been passed over for a position I'd fought tooth and nail for, and the anger burned too much for me to simply gloss over. I did continue in the extra curricular parts of it, but the resentment never really died. I also found out my boyfriend was in fact another of the "10 no's and a whatever means yes" types. The year was mostly unremarkable otherwise; I was refused when I begged my boyfriend to take me to my senior prom, so I missed it. I also lost the most crucial woman I'd ever had in my life, my great grandmother. She'd been more of a mother to me than my actual one ever was. I'd always told her she'd see me graduate, but leukemia cut her life short by just a couple months. Good god did that sting. Managed to get a concussion for my senior day and still walk the stage for my community college degree later on that day. Graduated high school.

I'm sure I sound deadpan about all that. Mostly because I'd assumed I'd have finally offed myself before I ever picked up my diploma. No dice. So I started working my ass off in a fast food kitchen and took classes at the local community college. Somewhere in the midst of that, I'd been invited by friends to come to a youth group.

It was there that I met my future exboyfriend and my future exhusband (spoilers). Seeing as my current boyfriend was constantly shit-talking me to his pals even though he knew I'd see it, I started getting closer to my friends to have some sort of light in my life. My mental health got worse as my relationship collapsed, though, and I tried to overdose again somewhere in there. Which is only remarkable in the fact that I'd swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills and managed to work a night shift at my job without anyone noticing.

Inevitably, he'd decided my getting close to my future (ex)husband and best friend was actually me cheating on him. Hilarious really, because we'd never even so much as looked at each other that way. I did like him of course, he seemed like much less of an ass than my boyfriend, but he was in a relationship and I didn't want to interfere. Boyfriend becomes ex over text, only to try and patch things up the next day. I told him to go to hell. My friends invite me over for games one day, only for me to find out he'd staged a meeting with a bouquet of roses. I once again told him where to get off, and let the roses rot and die in the backseat of my car. He even tried to say how he'd been making payments on a ring to propose and asked how that'd made me feel. "Angry" I had replied. I think he finally started to get the hint.

I'd ended up in tears at my at the time good friend's house. He talked me through things, and of course it ended up in a confession of feelings for me. Dreading the thought of being alone after being single for a little while, we back and forthed about whether it would be a good move before he left for college, but we inevitably ended up together.

What a fucking ride I was about to go on. He's the first and only person in my life to make me feel like I was inadequate sexually, however this seemed to be much more a problem with his own struggling sense of sexuality than it was a problem with me..didn't stop me from taking it personally, though. I'd even started pondering my sense of gender at this point--I was a tomboy my whole life anyway, it wouldn't have been a huge leap to just be a boy, right?

Either way, he'd left for college and I made long drives every weekend I could to see him. It helped that I'd gotten a new job thanks to the last kind thing my cousin ever did for me, referring me to her fiance's uncle, who became like a surrogate father figure in my worklife. I went down and took my boyfriend on the nicest dates I could think of; lavish dinners, expensive card and collectible store raids, the whole nine yards. Put myself in a hell pit of credit card debt.

Then my friends and I all went down to spend the weekend with him at an anime convention. The weekend would've been absolutely amazing..except. Saturday night happened. Tired and frustrated with trying to get everyone together after a late night rave, a few of us milled about on the sidewalk outside. A random person offers my boyfriend and another friend a tenner if they went across the street and made a jump from a story up the stairs of a under-construction building. They were unable to get past the gates, luckily, but another random guy was able, and managed to break his ankle in the jump.

I helped the guy best I could to get his ankle straight until he could get checked, then went over to playfully hassle my boyfriend over the fact that that could've very well been him. After a minute or two, I watched his expression go blank. He pushed me backwards first, just far enough so that his fist could wind far enough to land a hard punch to my chest. I felt the wind go out of my lungs. I felt a rushing in my ears and tears well in my eyes--then I lost some time. I was apparently hysterical, having something worse than a panic attack (in fact, I learned much later into my mental health journey I'd been triggered into a ptsd flash). Someone drove us back to the dorms, and my then bestfriend came into the room later on and it was then (must've been an hour after the fact by this point) that I was able to squeak out "he hit me" after having lost my voice since it happened. He immediately begins saying if IF it did happen, he'd blacked out, must've been because I was hassling him, whatever he could say to deflect. Right. It's always my fault, somehow.

You'd think I would've walked away from the relationship, but I sadly believed him as much as my friend did. I even ended up planning (and failing due to my car overheating halfway to the spot I'd picked) to propose to him myself, and I did, though it was an odd bojangle's parking lot instead of the beach. Woof. That's hard to relive.

I turned 21 that year. Not long after, my father said I was becoming an alcoholic. I kept liquor under my bed to nurse myself to sleep for some time. Couldn't show my face at a New Year's party I normally would've loved to been at. Turns out that this is what my depression feels like when it's bad.

After sporadic contact off and on, my friend (future exhusband) starts talking to me again. Invites me over to take some extra junk food off his hands. I get there and within a minute he recognizes that something is very wrong with me, and starts talking me into going to see a therapist.

Maybe you'll see a pattern here, but it felt really nice to have somebody see I'm struggling and give a damn about my wellbeing. All the feelings I'd had for him before that had never died off came back and hit me like a deer being plowed by an eighteen wheeler.

It came to a head on Valentine's day. We'd flirted and skirted around the gray areas of being unfaithful for a bit, but when he took me to dinner and kept ordering me drinks (I wanted them, I don't believe this was a ploy BECAUSE) he brought me back to his house and put me to bed to sleep it off, but in my drunken, sad state of being, I begged him in tears to sleep with me. He gave in to my begging, and I became something I never wanted to be--a bonafide cheater.

You could maybe write off one night like that, but once that first time happened, I couldn't stop. I loved him, I wanted him, I wanted what I thought was happiness and forever because I'd waited so long for this. But god, did the guilt fuck my head right up. The worst of my scars on my thighs came from that guilt, and I was so suicidal that I was dubbed a "flight risk" constantly. I started to feel like he was my only anchor to life.

It took a little over two months, but I finally had to come clean to my boyfriend lest I let the guilt eat me alive. I'd struggled with the thoughts of telling him as he was incredibly mentally fragile as well, and I dreaded the thought of being the one to push him over the edge. That's no excuse to lie I realize, but it was where my mind was at the time.

When I had told him everything, he'd suggested overlooking what I'd done, he didn't want to lose me. As sweet a gesture as it sounds, I simply couldn't allow the relationship to continue--I wasn't happy with him, I hadn't been in many months even before my affair, and if I'd ended things the way I should've, it wouldn't have been an affair in the first place. We remained friends for a while afterwards even as my new relationship started rolling.

Somewhere in this, my boyfriend and I spent a night hanging out with my oldest friend from school and her waste of space then-husband. We all got drunk, and before I knew it, I had three people on top of me in a sexual way that I felt gross about. I ended up leaving boyfriend there and driving myself home, wanting to throw up but not from the liquor.

I also got into smoking weed at this point. I fell in love with the stuff; it tempered the constant body pains that I couldn't get a doctor to take seriously and it helped my currently unmedicated brain process emotions a little better. One day I'd gotten high and not felt like driving, but my boyfriend and friend wanted to go to the pool. Friend offered to drive, I agreed, and laid across the back seat of my car for the ride.

We never made it to the pool. My friend pulled out into an intersection and got us t-boned, totaling my car and whipping my spine, which resulted in my one and only ride in an ambulance in my life so far. I stayed the next couple days with my boyfriend at his house, and it wasn't a couple months later that I finally moved out of my parents house to live with him and his family.

Not long after my moving in, my ex had asked me for an online game, which wasn't uncommon, but I was tired from a long day at work and politely declined. Thirty minutes later, I'd been one of a few friends and family to receive what was meant to be a suicide letter. I panicked, calling him almost a hundred times as I ran over to his family's house to bang on their doors and warn them--all of which, the calls and banging, were ignored. I thought finally to try my work phone, which had a completely unique number. He answered on the first ring. I cried in relief begging him to be okay and while he had attempted to run out into the heavy traffic near his college, he was unsuccessful and was being escorted to a psychiatric ward by a policeman. I went back home, sobbing painfully and nearly vomiting from the stress. He called once from the psych ward, and then I never (and I mean to this present day) heard from him again. I tried so hard to talk to him, apologizing over and over, begging for responses for quite some time after.

Oh well. Back to the rest of it. My boyfriend and I were happy-ish for a while, until his anger issues and general aggravation with my precarious mental and emotional state started to make arguments a regular part of our lives. Well, he argued, I shut down. I went to therapy, went through a long laundry list of medications for depression and insomnia. Nothing ever worked too well for too long.

I also lost my relationship with my cousin who'd been my best friend growing up because I refused to go to her wedding without him accompanying me; he was my rock and the only thing standing between social events and anxiety attacks. Sad. Life goes on.

Stress and drama became a usual mainstay in my life. It wasn't much different than my life before, but I was slowly losing my ability to tolerate it. Then, I brought up the idea of trying polyamory. I will preface saying that polyamory probably is wonderful for other people, but it isn't something I should've gotten into, as I was in it for the wrong reasons. I'd gotten the idea from him, he'd done it in his previous relationship. And when I wanted to try it, it was funnily enough with his previous third partner that I'd always had some feelings for, but my god what a trainwreck of drama that girl ended up being.

Then we had a threesome with one of my long term friends. He became a ENM fling for me, but I cut it short as I did not want to mess up our friendship. Then, I got the bright idea to try the same thing with the guy my parents had tried to put under the county jail when I was 15. It was fun at first, then I made friends with his ex/baby mama, and was informed that he had an STI...that he'd not mentioned at all. I was blindsided and full of rage. I struggled at first with whether I should forgive him or not, ultimately I didn't, and stranded him at work one night as I cut contact after I left him there.

Not long after, we traveled to meet my now-fiance's partner. I loved her, she was a wonderful girl, and I helped plan an extravagant weekend for the three of us. Too bad I didn't take him spending the night in her room instead of mine too well. Or him sleeping with me, me begging him to stay with me a bit longer or at least to not go over there to sleep with her immediately after he left me.. that one really didn't go over well.

I couldn't take it. I ended up making them split up, which was such a heart rending feeling of guilt for me that I had a mental breakdown at work and got rode over in an ambulance (oh, guess it was twice in my life) to the hospital. My dad had to come pick me up, and I lost my job over what I'd done to myself at work.

We got married a couple months later. I remember having a conversation with my dad and lying about how I was feeling as we waited for him to go back to the house and get his license (which you need for the paperwork part of marriage to his surprise).

October came and he took my car out one night without asking. Half asleep from a powerful dose of ambien, I answer a panicked phone call. He'd wrecked my car. I had to go pick him up, and was made out to be a horrible person for being too tired to have a proper reaction.

Except I absolutely was positively pissed beyond belief. This was my second (also my favorite) vehicle to be totaled by someone else. I resented him so much. January rolled around and in the midst of a volatile argument, he'd said he hated me a little right then. I was truly never able to let that comment go.

We fought our way through to April, having made friends with yet another trash-incarnate human being in the meantime, but it didn't matter right then. One day I sat by the river with a bottle of pills I was sure would do it this time, and a photo of the two of us together. I didn't do it, then got to make me feel like I wished I had. The next day I took myself to the emergency room and, because of my prior history, my voluntary admittance was quickly flipped into an involuntary stay.

I never felt worse than I did while I was held in the emergency room, no contact, nothing to do but be alone with my thoughts. I cried, screamed quietly, couldn't sleep despite being loaded with valium.

I was transferred to a nice hospital psych ward in the mountains. I spent my week there making friends with people of all kinds, doing group therapy, and enjoying what felt like a safe little fishbowl compared to the terrifying ocean that was reality outside.

They figured out part of the problem was an antidepressant I'd been against taking in the first place, go figure. I was finally put on a medication that worked consistently, and sent on my way.

I spent the next month after my discharge absolutely drunk off my ass. The whole month. I ended up screwing around with the garbage friend despite not having permission to do so, and nearly lost my marriage when I admitted that it happened a week later. My husband and I spent my first week at a new job fighting over text, but we were eventually able to reconcile (kinda. Things wouldn't be the same afterward but that's expected).

Maybe a month later, I met who is decidedly the love of my life, but we started off as just friends (and coworkers, too). He quickly became my best friend since we spent so much time together. I was good friends with his ex (then girlfriend) too, and the four of us hung out outside of work almost daily.

We managed to get through my birthday and halloween happily. Then, without warning, his girlfriend becomes his ex and he's being kicked out of his living situation. I honestly took offense with how awfully my best friend had been treated, and decided to show her how clearly I was on his side the only way I knew how.

I picked him up and brought him back to my house from his family's, and we spent the weekend talking through things until the sadness turned into laughter, and I had very fast and hard fallen deep in love with my best friend.

I was an asshole for asking my husband to allow me to have a relationship with him, but he did agree to it as he was afraid of me doing it behind his back if he said no. But, any yes was good enough for me at that point.

It worked for a while, he even moved in with us for a month or so. As expected, though, things blew up, and instead of trying to salvage my broken marriage, I ran away with my boyfriend because I felt something with him I'd never felt before now--peace.

And even though we spent a month effectively homeless on a friends couch, even though we've been through so many things already together, he has consistently been my peace. He has loved me through some of the toughest decisions of my life and has helped me try to rebuild my mental health with a type of patience and gentleness I never thought possible of another human being.

"This sounds like more of an autobiography than it does reasoning."

I'm sure it does, but I've at least halfway answered your question in telling you all this.

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