#TW parent forcing child to take medicine

[this-is-me19]

This week in my head:

listening to the chorus of Matthew Nathanson’s Come on get higher on repeat.

Scared my sick child will be put in the hospital and intubated (that shit took nearly a week for me to recovery from too).

Scared my sick child will stop breathing—retraction is scary af?

This is the worse he has ever been sick, ever!

Make sure he takes his meds.

Hold his arms and make him take his three (3) medicines

Make sure he has a tablet when getting his breathing treatment every 3 hours so I don’t get grumped by his pediatrician again

Every. Three. Fucking. Hour.

Sleep?! What’s that?!

Hyperfocused on my six year old who hasn’t gone to school this week.

Realize your husband and you have barely connected because you’re hyper focused and he keeps having to do task initiation which gets on his nerves after a certain point.

Napping when kid naps so I can function

Keeps taking meds in the afternoon or at night when I should be taking it in the morning

I’m off my routine so bad!

Overwhelmed.

Scared.

Anxiety sucks ass.

I’m traumatizing myself and probably my child to force my kid to take his medicine

I don’t feel better knowing I have legal precedence here as parent to force meds on my children.

Scared I’m gonna get Human Metapnemovirus and it’s gonna cause a terrible asthma flare up like my six year old

Feel selfish I want him to go back to school so I can spend time with hubby during the day since we don’t get the opportunity much when kids are home.

Tired all the fucking time

Why tf didn’t big pharma make kid prednisone taste so awful?! The flavor doesn’t help at all! At all. I’ve added salt and sugar and added to soda, mixed with other flavored meds. No. Prednisone liquid is the most bitter things ever!

Why can’t my kid like any of the flavors?

My child is like me who could taste all the medicinal bitterness on their tongue and gag nearly every time.

I have two interviews this week and I don’t wanna go but need job

Interview tomorrow for Accounting Clerk

Interview Friday for Admin Asst

Two Dr appts tomorrow on top of interview— one for kid and one for me

Did I mention I have pulled a muscle or something by picking up things heavier than 10lbs? I stopped trying and the pain seems to have gone.

Trying to sit in this emotion and I got nothing.

How can I get burnt out taking care of my six year old?

Positive: I get to get back on adderall! I may be functional again and awake!

Have we had sex this week at all?

I just wanna cuddle with my husband and be petted

When was the last time I took a shower? My hair kind of crunchy and I don’t know why.

Has kiddo taken all of their meds? No, got two more doses to give him. 😭

My kid had sensory issues and he says he is scared of the medicine. Am I a bad parent? The doctor said it’s medicine, it won’t always taste good. Yeah, you get the autistic kid to take it without having to hold him down and force it into his mouth until he agrees to do so he drinks it.

I need to redye my hair but no energy

Can I just sleep for the next 12 hours?

[nocturni3]

Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation

Top reader

(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)

Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.

After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.

With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.

It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.

Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.

Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.

Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.

Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.

There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-

“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.

M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .

A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.

M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.

But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.

After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.

They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.

A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.

Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.

“Miguel”

“Hm”

Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.

“M/n made your favorite!”

Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,

“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”

Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.

“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”

Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.

“Trying and failing-“

Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.

“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“

A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.

“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”

Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.

“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”

The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.

The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.

Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.

Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.

“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”

M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.

The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.

M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-

M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.

“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“

“And what if it isn’t!”

Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.

“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”

M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.

“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”

M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.

“Miguel don’t say that”

“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“

“I wouldn’t be alive”

“Huh-“

“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”

Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.

“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”

“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”

“Ugh, shock not another shot”

M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.

“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”

Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.

“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”

Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.

“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”

Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.

~~~~~~

At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.

“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”

Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;

‘We make families whole!’

Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.

His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.

“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”

“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“

“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”

Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,

‘Mi única luz en la vida’

Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.

“Try and stay hopeful-“

A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.

“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“

M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.

“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”

Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.

“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“

‘Here it comes-‘

“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”

Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.

“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”

M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.

“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“

“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”

Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.

“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”

Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.

“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”

Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.

“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”

The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.

“W-we’re having a baby”

M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.

“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”

Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,

“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”

Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.

“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”

Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.

“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”

“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”

~~~~~

M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.

“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”

Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.

“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”

Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.

Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.

“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”

Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.

“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”

Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.

Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.

“Do you know the gender yet?”

Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,

“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”

“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”

Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.

“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”

M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.

“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”

“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”

M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!

Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.

“Don’t drink like that”

Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.

“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“

“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”

Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.

As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.

Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.

The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.

“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”

Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.

“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”

Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.

Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.

Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.

For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.

Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.

“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”

M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.

“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”

Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.

“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”

“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”

“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”

Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.

“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“

“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”

Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.

M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.

Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.

The autopilot chimed on,

-“Please enter in destination requirements”-

M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.

Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.

No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,

Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.

Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.

“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”

Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.

All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.

“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”

-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-

The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.

“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”

M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.

The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.

“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”

Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.

“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”

Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.

“Want your cum…in me filling me”

“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”

Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.

Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.

“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”

Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.

It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.

Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.

Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;

“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”

Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.

Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.

Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.

Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.

“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”

Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.

Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.

All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.

Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.

All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.

“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”

Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;

-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-

M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.

Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.

“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”

Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.

“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”

His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take

“When you put it like that how can I say no”

Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.

“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”

Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.

The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.

A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.

Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.

It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.

M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.

“Love you; want more of you”

“Yeah?”

“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”

M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.

M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.

M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.

Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.

“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“

“No!”

“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”

Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.

Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.

As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.

“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”

Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.

“Fuck miguel! Ah”

“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"

Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.

Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.

Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.

Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.

Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.

“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”

Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.

“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”

Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.

M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.

“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”

“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”

“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”

The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.

Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.

Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.

Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.

“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”

“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“

Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.

“Yo también te amo, m/n”

Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.

“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”

“Now you’re stealing my lines”

A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.

“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”

“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“

“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”

The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.

Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.

Nothing would change that…ever.

Part 6 final

( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)

[lefluoritesys]

Deinfluencing DID? Cool

TW: injuries, dissociative seizures, fainting, general health problems, medication, abuse, forced switches, religion, burdning things down, mentions of rape

Our room is a mess, dirty laundry everywhere, clothes are not hanged up and thrown on our bed, we haven’t cleaned our table, and barely ever vacuum or clean anything else. Why? Nobody wants to do it, plus we have ADHD that's interfering eith daily tasks as usual.

Our host forgot to tell our partner system they sprained our wrist. They sprained it January 30th. Told them, by accident, on July 11th.

Speaking of sprained limbs. Our co-host & persecutor-caretaker sprained our foot because they were stupid and weren't looking at where they're going. Resulted in missing a step on the stairs. They got a yelling lecture from our host (very loving lecture), and what did they do? Called the thing we had to wear on our leg "foot prison." Nothing else.

We got sick... I wanna say 2 days ago (memory issues). How did we do that? I don't know. What are we gonna do about it? Idfk, why are you asking me, we have like one medicine we take, but other than that-

Whenever people tell us that we're a minor and shouldn't be researching/reading stuff involving sexual topics, our sexual alters' immediate response to it is "if they wanted us to act like a child, they shouldn't have let us get raped when we were 4."

We suspect we have dissociative seizures. When things around us are overwhelming, we can very well just faint. Still conscious but unable to move or speak. Everything we hear during it will be forgotten. And those of us who are not host and co-host can faint because simply being in the body for too long is overwhelming.

We forget to take our meds that prevent us from fainting fully. Teenage thing, but our blood pressure drops unexpectedly, and we might pass out. Does the threat of literally dropping in the middle of the day, for which we had previously gotten admitted to the hospital, work? No. It's not happening rn, so-

Outer world is being run by 5-6 people (alters) who are not equipped for the outer world shit. Dealing with parents? No. School? So-so. Basic biological needs? Who needs those, am I right? /j

A while ago, we found a spider near our room, and we are all, collectively, terrified of spiders. Who did we push to front to deal with it? Our co-host, who hates/is scared of them more than all of us combined.

We have a factive of our mother in the system who fused with a Ballora fragment. Like, yk, the person who potentially abused us most in our lives is their source. She's currently in inner world therapy and is actively getting better. And we are learning to separate her from her source.

When we first figured out we were a system, our host was so stuck and so determined to find out more about our alters, we had to force switches to happen, and for a while thought we were actually faking. I'm aware that that's exactly what DID/OSDD is supposed to make you feel like, but others literally could not front sometimes without being physically forced out. Moreover, we didn't even know how switches were supposed to feel. Everything felt fake. How did we accept it? Pushed through (quite literally) and focused more on the exciting parts of it, rather than sad.

Speaking of first figuring our about our DID, we filmed many videos of our switches when we felt them coming, and alters introducing themselves via filming. We are now looking at them and both cringing and feeling nostalgic.

We still sometimes want to be a smaller system because it feels like it would have been simpler, and we would love to have all members of the system get along. But we also know our brain created us the way it did for our survival, and our nostalgia about "simpler days when we only knew 4 people" is a romantization. This is the first time we have actually had a semi-stable environment in 2 years.

The only one who celebrates the body's birthday is our host. Everybody else has their own birthdays either from source or made-up. We still celebrate them. Today (September 14th) is, in fact, one of our alters' birthday.

Our host and co-host have a child-parent relationship (respectively). A while ago, they were in co-con, listening to a song. Our co-host was holding our host to their arms in front piggyback style, was hugging them and rocking them back and forth. Why? For comfort. Because they're family.

Are we all collectively doing schoolwork? Nope, lmao. Doesn't work for us like that, we simply don't have memories of most things we studied since like 4th grade, can't get them either. Our host used to do all the schoolwork, but they got so much trauma from school and homework that now our co-host is in charge of it. And only them unless it's Japanese. And even then, it's a big maybe. Nobody wants to, so we created a schedule that works for us and our switches when it comes to studying.

Did I just have to look up where I was going on the metro because I realized I have no memories of it other than autopilot, and I am doubting whether I wanna leave on the right station? Yes. Yes, I did. Am I gonna be fronting when I reach the destination? Nope.

A while ago we burned down an inner world kingdom. Why? Idk, we just didn't like it. Who cares anyway?

One of our prosecutors bought premium on one of the apps we use, and they didn't get in trouble for it only because our host liked it. We're still using it to this day.

We have a system quote book.

Everybody in this system is pagan. I might be the only one not, and even that's a big maybe.

We really wanna watch Elemental but can never get around to it. Also, Nimona, although we have a good reason to postpone watching it.

We haven’t brushed our teeth in 2 weeks. Did yesterday like once. When's gonna be the next time? Who knows? :D Hygiene issues are real.

On Halloween, we're probably gonna watch FNaF Ruin the entire evening-night with our sibling.

Our ex-host is so unhinged that we have to watch them whenever they front like a hawk.

We are not a perfect system. Any blog you see, no matter how real it seems, doesn't reflect day-to-day experiences systems have. Most posts, generally, are made with strong emotions in mind, or for aesthetic purposes, or for venting purposes. I repeat what has been said before a million times: don't trust everything you see on the internet. People are real, but they are not going to let you know anything personal about them.

Honestly? Not sure why I wanted to make this post. Not gonna give you a reason either because I don't know it.

I am currently going to get cocoa and push our co-host to study. Have a good day, y'all. ✌️

-sexual protector

[malumae]

modern verse info. wip.

he was only five years old when the night terrors started and the only friends he made were brief encounters that lasted no longer than two playdates. troubled, perpetually tired and acting out. his parents tried their best with him for a few years, taking him to counseling, doctors, and child psychiatrists. four years later, at the age of nine, they essentially just gave up. 

ren ended up more or less neglected by his parents. rather than forcing him to socialize and/or go to family gatherings they could literally not care less if he showed up or not. he spent a lot of time alone at home and gladly avoided social interactions if he could help it. spent a lot of time reading & taught himself how to play the guitar.

his teenage years were ( you guessed it ! ) just him being extremely depressed. he did have some friends though. i’ll elaborate on this later but basically: tw drugs, self harm, attempted suicide, etc. tldr: mom died from drug overdose, dad took his own life.  this happened right after high school and he was diagnosed with severe psychotic depression among other things. he heard voices in his head ( just like main verse ) and struggled with a lot of guilt, grief and regret. in recovery with therapy, medicine and hospitalization.

“people with psychotic depression may get angry for no apparent reason. or they may spend a lot of time by themselves or in bed, sleeping during the day and staying awake at night. a person with psychotic depression may be hard to talk to. perhaps they barely talk or else says things that make no sense.”

after his “recovery” ( still in progress. ) he applied for uni, started studying engineering and eventually dropped out. now he works at a shithole of a diner, hates the smell of fried food sticking to his clothes, has no issues brawling with customers that want to order complicated shit like “bacon and eggs without bacon” or “caesar salad without the salad” ??? yeah, he gets pissed. at least he makes enough money to support himself and his rather humble lifestyle. lives alone with his "niece" though they are technically cousins - he takes care of her but their grandfather is her legal guardian on paper. however, due to old age etc, she mainly lives with ren who cares for her like a parent. they also have a rescue cat named “chat” ( same cat as from main verse. )

ren is not a danger to others or anything like that, his darker elements are only mentioned here because i want to make sure people know of the things he struggle with other than working a ( in his words ) shitty job that pays ways to little. he still goes to therapy and he still has bad nightmares / insomnia. 

appearance: somewhat tan in the summer at least but burns easily so fuck the sun, waist long hair often tied up by a clip or in a half pony tail / bun  situation when he’s working, “unfinished” sleeve tattoo on his left arm, frenum barbell piercing, — tba, wip.

personality, vices, etc: more outgoing than his main verse, direct/straightforward, keeps himself clean and fresh but his surroundings often messy (organized chaos), hot-headed, impulsive, dark humor, prone to depressive episodes, smokes & will dip mid-conversation to get his fix

[video-game-kids-tournament]

MEET YOUR CONTESTANTS!

TW: Child endangerment, murder, medical abuse + child death

Fran Bow spoilers under the cut!

Name: Fran Bow-Dagenhart

Age: “10/11 (she changes her answer between the beginning and end of the game)”

Gender + Pronouns: Girl, she/her

Video Game: Fran Bow

Backstory: “Killed her parents/framed for killing her parents. Had to endure a 1940s mental hospital. Haunted by a bloody goat skull man named Remor. Theres more but like that alone is a lot. Oh and all the medication stuff that too.”

• "Non-spoilers (we start the game with this): She had a lovely home life. Her parents bought her a lil black cat, her bestie Mr. Midnight. Then she watched her parents get dismembered in front of her by an evil spirit. She runs away and passes out in the woods. Two hooded figures take her body and Mr. Midnight flees. At the start of the playable game, she is ten and has been at a facility for mentally ill children for some time. She is not allowed to leave and is force fed pills that make her see the world around her covered in blood and gore.”

• “After witnessing the death of her parents, she is sent to an asylum. She then sets herself on a mission to escape the asylum and find her pet cat, Mr Midnight.”

• “After finding her parents in pieces got sent to a psychiatric hospital for children they gave her a medicine that lets her sees into another dimension were everything is bloody and horrific, but uses it to her advantage.”

• “She was living a normal life until one night she stumbles upon to her parents brutally murdered and dismembered. She and her cat Mr. Midnight run away and she passes out in a forest. She wakes up in an asylum, gets some pills that makes her hallucinate, and decides to escape.”

Why should they win the tournament?: “She needs a win frfr”

• “She is only 10 years old and saw her parents die years before even that. (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD): her only living family betrays her, she is forced to kill to survive, she takes pills to see monsters and a bloody world around her so she can solve riddles, and the ending is open to literal (meaning magical) or more realistic interpretations. Either way, she is shot by someone she trusted and in a realistic sense, she dies from it. Fran either suffered great mental strain from the forced, experimental medication or her parents traumatic deaths to 'cause her to see hallucinations, or they are actually what the world looks like and she really was possessed to kill her parents just so a huge evil spirit could mess with this poor lil girl.”

• “I don't know if she'll win, but seeing the lengths she'd go to for a cat, I think she's pretty determined and deserves a win”

• “She also scares me but I like her”

• “She is super cool and creative and has a pet cat.”

[vixnovacoda]

Doctor's Medicine || Chapter 10

Hannibal Lecter x Original Character

Word Count: ~3.5k

CW/TW: NSFW 18+, graphic, disturbing content, dissociation, canon-typical violence.

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9]

[ao3 version here]

Time is for the living. When someone's dying it loses function, changes shape, and it either becomes a line in the sand that haunts them clear as day or the ocean that washes up the line, blurring the distance when the tide rises and ceases. Emma’s is the liquid kind. She can't seem to get a grip on it, which is to imply that she’s dying, and to some extent, that's not untrue. She sure felt like she was. Part of her was dying. She was taking medicine, after all.

   She gave a meeker than expected thanks as Marcus passed over some water and small little white tablets the shape of pearls. Then swig, head back, and no sooner were they gone and it was as if she were back at that hospital when she was twelve, dried crimson still coating her nails and surrounded by nurses and doctors (and police). Like mother, like daughter , she recalled someone saying, although her memory wasn’t to be trusted – especially during then, when there was barely anything to go off, but no one ever really forgets when the doctors deliver the death sentence in the form of a label and pills with no cure. 

   At least the clear difference in this reality was there only stood one man qualified to be a doctor here while Marcus was practically no more than a glorified nurse. “So, um… What happened?” Emma peered up at them both as she picked off red flakes, nail against nail, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

   The two shared a look – except, only Marcus looked like he was asking for permission, while Dr. Lecter never took his eyes off her from across the room. The dread sat heavy on Marcus’ face, sagging his features and adding creases where there weren’t any before. It almost could have been mistaken for fear. He didn’t want to tell her, whatever it was that happened, and he had been there to witness.

   “What? Marcus, what is it?” she became adamant as she twisted her head back and forth between them.

   The closest stepped forward first. Marcus swept the perspired dread off his brow, the thickness of it bunching together in a furrow. “You don’t remember?” he said in a too cautious and too stilted manner so her glass self wouldn’t fracture. She figured that from his view, she’d always be a fragile thing, something to dance around and never touch or view from afar like a fixture in a gallery. Well, maybe she was already damaged, or the medication had kicked in or that the good Dr. Lecter was in the room, but she could deal with another blow. “I’d rather you tell me,” she said.

   “There was a small scene at the crime scene, you refused to move. They had to force you out, and I drove you here,” answered Marcus, crouching so she would have to look down at him, like she was some child that didn’t understand death, and parents never told the full truth. No. There was more still missing from her memory. Something he wouldn’t tell her, and he always told her everything .

   Emma stood. Her heart raced against her mind. “That’s not it, though, is it? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so… so terrified, and he wouldn’t be here. Why is he here?”

   At that, Hannibal showed no reaction. “Because you had me worried,” said Marcus.

   She scratched her nails harder, and she bubbled—

   “The hotel called me about concerns of a disturbance in your room.”

   —and bubbled—

   “I came and found you mumbling to yourself.”

   —and bubbled—

   “God’s sake, Emma, you were tearing at the floor with your bare hands over something that wasn’t there!”

   —and it ran over. Dried blood dropped in small flakes. Taking in the scene with new revelation, she saw it now for the mess it was: a massive shipwreck. The overturned sheets. Knocked lamp. Broken glass. Ripped up carpet. The flooring from under said carper laid out for all to see. Blood staining wooden groves. It was like a scene from her books had come to life once again; the melding of two worlds, and the ringing threatened to surface. She could remember it, remember the clawing, the blood (her’s) under her nails, and the ringing (Alex’s ringtone) that begged for an answer so someone could put an end to its misery. The flashes of a haunting transposed themselves over the real world where the late night claimed hold over her as she plied carpet and clawed at exposed wood with the echo of a phone getting louder and louder and louder and her raw hands bled.

   “No,” said Emma finally, shaking her head. “No. I know what I heard.”

   “Please, Emma.” Grit bit Marcus’ inflections.

   Her hands fell to her side, bunching up the still-worn dress in her palms. “I know what I heard. She was calling me. Her number, it was her ringtone. The Ghost Writer put it there, beneath the flooring, to mock me. I know it’s there.”

   “There’s nothing there.” He grew more adamant.

   “Stop.”

   “No phone, no ringing. Nothing. It was in your head.”

   “Stop it! Stop lying to me.” Spittle ran from her mouth as her breath quickened against the raging storm confronting her mind about reality, and solitary tears ran their course on the pale of her cheeks because maybe he was right, but she knew what she heard. She wasn’t insane. No. Not her. Maybe she wasn’t ‘normal’ , but she wasn’t that type of crazy.

   Maybe whatever she had could not be satisfied by medicine alone.

   Maybe she had pushed it too far.

   She couldn’t tell.

   Taking a sharp inhale and pushing herself away from the kneeling man, who was desperate to correct what he thought was wrong, Emma stalked over to the drawn curtains and fumbled to open the window as it squeaked, a burst of oxygen slamming into her. Tightly, she shut her eyes, opting for feeling the breeze of a cold 2am morning rather than having to look for another second longer at the face of a slimy snake, wrinkled and distorted and full of deceit.

   The air shifted to account for his movements when Marcus bent his neck, hanging his head as his limbs swayed aimless and exhausted. Exasperated, he opened those thin lips only to release a disgruntled sigh with Hannibal interrupting and stepping between them as all the forces in the world allowed him to do. “It’s probably best if you make sure that journalist isn’t still hanging around outside, Marcus.”

   Heavy were the fall of the feet which followed, echoing in the silence that further confirmed what she knew about Marcus’ character. He only cared about reputation and the money it gave. She was only important if it meant getting another book, making thousands of sales, and the public didn’t become aware about the real her. At that moment, Emma wasn’t sad, she was just a boiling pot of hot emotions spilling out into the deep sea; mixed and muddled.

   “You really are becoming your mother…” mumbled Marcus in a parted insinuation. Emma was spoiled goods.

   The second the door woefully closed, she put a hand to her chest and leant closer to the source of open air, gripping the frame. S poiled, rotten, ruined. Deep down, it didn’t bother her. But the words still repeated themselves. Is that what everyone saw when they looked at this version of her, the part her monster was eating away at? She refused to see it. Marcus didn’t know anything. The implication rattled around till they were a distant reverberation, hushed by a collection of breezes that reminded her of home, and then came the waves. The waves and the boat. A calmness went to wash over her, unfurl her brow, except it could not undo the hole in the vessel as it leaked, and the water rose to swallow her whole because some part of what he said stuck to her like a barnacle.

   Head bobbing in and out, throat and lungs burning and starving, Emma wavered between beliefs. Before she would have taken his words at face value, but how could she when he dismissed her truths so easily. Then again, it was a stance he and Alex shared; that something was wrong with her. Then again, she knew what she saw, she knew what heard, she knew the gaps in her memory were nothing worth worrying over. Then again, the kind Dr. Hannibal Lecter told her she was normal; this was normal. Wasn’t it?

   She wasn’t so sure anymore.

   Not knowing what exactly happened left her colder than the ocean and colder when wondering about its undiscovered depths. “What am I supposed to believe when I’ve lost so much time that I have barely a grip on it?” she questioned aloud in a hushed manner meant for herself.

   Then came the squeaking reminder she was not, in fact, alone. Time-worn springs gave out as the last person she expected to stay – let alone show up at break of midnight – sat in the only available spot he could. “There is but one thing you can do,” said Dr. Lecter after a while, inviting her beside him. “You cannot force yourself to remember that which is buried so deep into non-existence. Instead, trust in what you do believe.”

   “But I don’t trust any of it.” Vocal cords quivered in knots and cracks in her throat. “I’m-I’m trying everything and none of it is enough. With and without medication, it’s still the same. Nothing is working. I’m drowning. Drowning. God, I feel like I’m losing the plot.” The words came out faster than she intended, like the drumming of her heart and, for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, his hand found hers.

   “Then you must find someone to trust for you.”

   The beat in her chest pulsed. It waited, holding its bated breath. “… And I can trust you, right, Dr. Lecter?”

   “Emma, as your psychiatrist, if you couldn’t, then I would have failed at my job.” It wasn’t until she met his gaze that the worry gave up, and her body surrendered to his gentle form, calming down from the high height she had plunged and drowned in. There was something about him, something undeniable, that Emma had to finally admit to being a disturbing source of comfort. Simply being around him could put her under his spell; she knew she could trust him, body, monster, and soul.

   But a single question remained which would test that: “What happened?”

   Like the sinful snake of Eden waiting for the perfect moment, Hannibal struck. He told her everything. Everything had happened.

   All of it. Even if the phone she swore on her mother’s life to have seen and heard in that floor crevice was no longer there. All of it was real .

   Relief came over her as belief became a crooked sense under his every word. She took what he said to be gospel with the fervorous desire of the most wretched nun seeking salvation by their God, because who wouldn’t want to be told they weren’t crazy? Emma believed then, over nothing else, that Hannibal could, perhaps, be the only one she trusted. What little time they had been acquainted with each other was nothing in the face of being believed in herself. It was an almost satiating sensation. The kind she wanted to devour cautiously over and over again.

   Must be the medicine taking effect, she lied to herself. But, oh, how she so preferred the truth that was Hannibal Lecter. What was coming over her?

———

Belief was a powerful thing as it could leave one never to doubt he who held all that faith, to paint over any cracks of their ‘truths’; to be pliable in their hands while twisting fantasy into reality. Hannibal knew that all too well. Such was his goal, after all.

   Emma was to be a devout. His .

   His for the making and undoing, and how she’d thrive under him. No longer would she have to hide or lie to herself, there was no room for either in his teachings. Coming to a calming lull, Emma’s chest rose and fell against the constraints of her dress in a false sense of security. But, grooves formed where cloth met skin along her clavicle, red bleeding into red, as muscles tightened and her spine stood upright, too upright. Though she appeared calm, Emma secretly remained traipsing back and forth on the edge of trepidation; she was not ready. Not yet.

   True, fear remained an excellent tool in convincing, God’s shepherds did it all the time, but it meant nothing to Hannibal if she had half a foot in the world that hated her honest form. There were ties she needed severing from first for this to work and, in fact, Marcus had just presented him with the perfect opportunity. The bond between the family friend and the author slipping as whatever the pair had threatened to give out ever since his true colours were shown. What a convenient turn of events.

   Emma retreated her hand ruefully at the slightest release. “Where are you going?” she asked, desperation reeking beneath her earthy scent; juniper berries and yew. Death omens. It was clear she didn’t want to be alone lest it befall her.

   “Nowhere far, I assure you,” Hannibal replied.

   Only the reassurance fell flat at her feet, and the moon tapped its rays atop her moving digits in bright swaths that made glistening, marbled skin out of crystalised beads from prior hour-born sweat, where veins danced and twisted and knotted beneath flesh so unruined; the perfect fox with the most tender muscles having been thrusted into a cage all on her own as she awaited her inevitable fate. Being separated from her other half burned her from the inside out that caused rivulets of crimson ribbons to pulse out of tune with the rest of the world, she appeared almost endearing and pitiable; a pretty morsel.

   “Nowhere far?” Emma echoed, reducing his pleasant words to held-back trembles.

   After a brief second, he peered down at her. Warm. But stern. “It’s not safe for you anymore. Alex was part of a finale. This killer knows where you stay, your every step. He knows you, Emma. Do you understand?”

   Reluctant to the truth, she nodded.

   “Then you understand that, out of concern, I must inform the FBI,” he said.

   “You can’t. If Jack hears about this he surely won’t let me stay on the case, plus he already thinks I’m crazy, and I have to do this,” blurted Emma.

   “Emma.”

   “Please. Please don’t tell them. She’s the only friend I had, and he took her from me before I had a chance to fix things with her. I need to do this for her, for me, so I can sleep.”

   “Emma, I wish I could, but I have to.”

   “Because you’re my psychiatrist?”

   His face turned serious as the moonlight softened sharp edges. “Because I care about you and what might happen to you,” he revealed so matter-of-factly, so plainly, that this made-up lie felt like a truth, and maybe it was.

   She stared at him, rarely blinking, caught off guard without a reason to disbelieve the sudden admission. After all, who else would drop whatever they were doing late in the evening to ensure her wellbeing rather than a friend – a relationship that went both ways; he was hers, she was his – and while some saw that as kind, others saw it for the possibility it could be: a vulnerability.

   “Then…” began Emma, drawing out her thought, “as my friend, you mustn’t say a word about this or I’ll never see nor speak to you again.” An empty threat, but, oh, how fear made her ruthless; calculative and cunning; willing to put others in uncomfortable positions to achieve what she wants. A spark lit up within her vixen eyes at her bark. Though it was a hesitant one, a bark it still was.

   All was going as expected.

   Beneath the skin and veil of concern, Hannibal smiled. “As your friend, you have my word.” Then, floor squawking with his shifting weight, he glanced towards the door to say, “I’ll need to say something. What will you have me tell him?”

   She paused, unprepared. “Only that it isn’t safe here,” she finally answered.

   “Are you sure?” he prompted.

   “No,” she reconsidered. It was clear then that she hadn’t attempted manipulation this way – being so aware of doing it; consciously aware – in a long time. In time, though, it would, like it was second nature. Her gaze shifted to the destroyed flooring, then to the strewn sheets and to the crooked objects and to the glinting of possible broken glass in small movements before staring at her own bloody nails with veiled conviction. “No. Tell him I need to stay somewhere else for the time being, preferably with company, to ensure what he thinks happened doesn’t occur again.”

   “Where would you go? His?”

   “I’d rather eat my own heart.” Hurt betrayed the best of her as Emma spat out the words.

   Hannibal shifted closer conspiratorially. “A scenario best avoided for the time being. Not an unwise decision either, Marcus isn’t equipped to look after your wellbeing. He doesn’t understand.”

   “He doesn’t. He’s a… a rot inside me.”

   “The rotting of things is rarely beneficial,” he mused. “Sometimes a rot is best being removed. He might get hurt, but you’d be making the right choice, Emma.”

   “Considering I’m pretty much on my own here in a foreign country, separating myself from him and finding somewhere else, that’s no easy task. I know no one, nowhere else I can go, just like he wants me,” said her as vulnerability snuck its way out from a single burning tear. Emma did not cry then because of fear, it was because of an illness Hannibal recognised all too well: homesickness. It had taken root, anchored itself to her and ran her dry to the point of exhaustion. Many can miss a home and learn to live without it, but few like her miss the life they once had. To see death is one thing. To have it served upon your plate is another entirely. She would not last long if she kept this up.

   “And he won’t. Dear old Marcus wants you stuck by his side for selfish reasons. Where you go, death follows, and what man does not seek to put the reaper on a tight leash? Is it not he who controls Death that shall gain immortality? He believes he can control you and sustain himself off of what is yours. I won’t let him.

   “You’re not alone, Emma. You have me, remember that,” he added, standing even closer now. A reminder, tall and noble, that he was there and would not be forgotten, existing in this moment to further cement himself in the memory of her mind, and waiting like others do upon the figure of Christ in a church for the moment where she got up and prayed for his guidance.

   Wiping her tears away, she stood on quivering feet, still not reaching his height as she looked up with that glossy face of hers, neck stretching, just as he had planned. Except for the flames raging in her dead stare that sent a ghastly breeze over him, it almost made a visible, pleased curl in the corner of his mouth. An interesting thing. That’s what she was. “You,” Emma reasoned. “Can I stay with you? It’d be temporary until I can find somewhere else, please.” and what was a simple reasoning became desperation while the fox played the prey with her ragged, worn form of a jagged body and pleading brow.

   Hannibal laid his hand on her shoulder, a promise bound on his lips. “I’m already here, it would only be convenient.”

   Emma’s body loosened at the joints. Muscles relaxed. Trepidation finally and completely washed away.

   “I won’t be long,” he said in passing as Emma watched his silhouette part from their gloom filled room, his grip lingering on her exposed self. But outside, stood and lit by hallway bulbs, Emma would miss witnessing how Hannibal ridded any remains of her from his hands by the wipe of a white pocket square. He’d do what had to be done, endure these absurd moments of closeness, until it was no longer a necessity. Because, proud as he was, Hannibal had no real feelings for the girl and wanted none. The fox; the unholy beast; the truth she hid beneath layers of generational and societal trauma and kept in the dark for years, all his efforts were for that and the possibility of what it could become. If he had any feelings it was curiosity, the fleeting kind which whispered to him to get what was his.

   And as Marcus came into sight, Hannibal got what he wanted.

   The fox-housed cage all to himself.

[an-theduckin]

A list of everything Billy did to Mark in Mark and friends series!!

(Tw for blood, csa, selling organs, cannibalism, child abuse, drugs, litting one on fire, mention of death, animal abuse, kidnapping) please lmk if I missed anything)

And obviously there's spoilers

- killed Mark's parents, wrapped them in a gift wrap and gave it to Mark as a birthday present

- constantly taunted him with scary drawings

- gave him blood and said it was "tea"

- gave him a ransom note to proofread

- made him count his (Billy's) fingers, while his hands were covered in blood

- made him sleep in a cage and clean it

- Mark's bed time was at 3am, and he was only allowed to sleep until 6am

- brushed his (Billy's) teeth until they were bleeding

- gave him blood and said it was "sugar"

- underfed Mark

- mixed suspicious "medicine" and made him drink it

- made him room very hot

- never let him leave the house

- lit him on fire

- always twisted things that Mark loved into negative things

- projected his weird obsession of death onto Mark

- sold Mark's kidney

- gave him bleach and said it was "water"

- made Mark over exercise

- took...weird photos of Mark and sold them to people

-showed him cupcake monster's corspe

- made him skin and eat a paperbag monster

- tricked him into eating cupcake monster's head

- duct tape his mouth and put him in a backpack to travel to a new place

- gave him a paper bag dog to "take care of", and didn't help him raise the dog, which made the dog die

- made Mark dependent on drugs and only gave it to him when he was "extra good", even though he suffered from withdrawals

- made a xylophone out of glasses of blood and forced Mark to play it

- made Mark paranoid of murderers

- fed him candy that had razorblades hiding in it

- hit him

- removed the top half of Mark's skull and claimed it as "brain surgery"

- lovebombed him throughout the series

Anndddddd that's all! Pls lmk if I missed anything loll

[greywoodrpg]

𝕣𝕦𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥

she appears as though she was born thirty-five years ago but is actually two hundred and nineteen, is a vampire, lives in acacia heights as the owner of celestials boutique, and is an advisor in sanguine liguria. she looks an awful lot like suki waterhouse. 

 "The story of a girl: You exited the womb and entered a war."

tw: sexism, arranged marriage, adultery, difficult pregnancy, abandonment

Born in 1806 during the height of the Napoleonic Wars, Ruby was born Duchess of Baden. Tensions were high amongst the Gottinberg family, torn between sides, but the Duchy always came first. Whatever would preserve power was the priority, and any sign of weakness was quickly stamped out. Ruby understood her role clearly in her family, she was to wed, forge a powerful alliance, of course, produce an heir. She paid close attention to her studies, particularly languages, and ensured she would excel in any future monarchy her parents thrusted her into. Obedience, however, did not mean that Ruby was entirely pleased with her situation. She was far more interested in what was happening on the frontlines and understanding the complex politics at play. She was savvy, but a woman’s voice was not respected and she didn’t dare share any of her more daring opinions out loud.  Her wedding was a dramatic, luxurious affair, as she had always predicted. Her husband was a Duke and thankfully, Gabriel was not cruel. He was dismissive, had many mistresses, and kept a close eye on her, but Ruby had also predicted that in her future. When you were observant and clever, royalty was cyclical. Ruby did all that she could to protect her image from Gabriel’s affairs and as she spent more time at their castle, she surrounded herself with thoughtful ladies in waiting, one of whom she took a very strong liking to. Anne was the smartest person Ruby had ever come across and it seemed as though they could talk for hours endlessly. Her passion for Anne grew quickly, although Ruby didn’t fully understand that what she felt was love. She always expected that ‘love’ was a falsehood, having never witnessed it growing up in the Duchy. Her affair with Anne was covert, and they never once spoke of fleeing the castle to be together. They both silently accepted their place in the world, and Anne seemed to respect Ruby’s love of the small amount of power she wielded in a world where women were looked down upon. Eventually, however, the time came where Ruby was required to produce an heir. Gabriel was gentle, but she couldn’t help feeling as though she were cheating on her lover. Pregnancy was not easy on Ruby and childbirth was far worse. Medicine wasn’t advanced, and with the amount of blood she lost, there was no chance of survival. The only person she requested by her side was Anne, and her family was locked behind a heavy door. The explanation came quickly, and to this day, Ruby doesn’t entirely remember the hushed conversation the pair had, but the end result was the same. Anne was a vampire and she bit and changed Ruby to save her life. The bond between Ruby and her sire was strong. She still deeply loved Anne, and Anne was patient with her as she taught her the ways of vampirism. Eventually, her maker abandoned her, and Ruby found that she liked the independence to do as she wished. The undead life suited her need for power. Throughout the years, Ruby collected memorabilia from all over Europe, souvenirs from some of her prolific victims and simply beautiful things that she loved. She was never one to deny herself of anything after she gathered the power to simply take it. Ah, how the roles reversed from when she was a human Duchess, bound to rules she despised. Ruby views immortality as a gift and has spent many, many years basking in it. But she’s aware that things in her life are missing. She liked having purpose, knowing what her destiny would be, and she frequently wondered what became of the child that she was forced to leave behind.  When she heard murmurs of Greywood, a town filled with people like her where hiding was no longer required, she immediately moved there, hoping to fill some of the holes in her heart.

“what power did she attain when settling in greywood?”

Ruby has the ability to dream walk and manipulate people’s dreams. Characters with magic can fight this off, however, if they choose to and have more will than she does.

penned by... ali

[hayleeduboisx]

➵  basics

name: haylee dubois nickname: hales, hay, lee age / d.o.b. october 8, 1999; 25. faceclaim: maddie hasson gender & sexuality: cis-female, bisexual. hometown: indiana, usa. currently:  fenway, fenrirswood. species: witch.  job position: medical intern at fenrir central hospital. education: high school diploma / indiana university school of medicine relationship status: single. children: none. siblings: ➵ christopher dubois, brother; twenty-two (open wc).

➵  traits

positive: kind, selfless, optimistic, spontaneous negative: naive, stuborn, shy, insecure

➵  biography [ tw: murder mention. ]

as the eldest child of the dubois hausehold, haylee had plenty of expectations to live up to, placed onto her by both herself and her parents. as a child born to two powerful witches, her father wanted her to stand tall, be proud, and act fierce. if she ever appeared as anything other than disciplined, it would reflect poorly on her parents, they would tell her. haylee has always tried her best to outwardly appear as her parents wanted; she had perfect grades, started practising her magic from a very young age, always being polite and kind, never disobeying them, never waste time on anything that would pose as a distraction. she was okay with living her life this way - she knew, her parents only wanted the best for her, they wanted to see her succeed, and she indeed wanted to make them proud. that was her one and only goal in life. 

she was twelve years old, when her brother started showing a tad bit of potential in witchcraft, and the dubois family couldn’t be happier. little did they know, that he would choose a darker path - haylee, on the other hand, had always sensed it somehow. eventually, whenever he acted out, disobeyed, and started to lose the ligh within his magic little by little, their father would lose his temper on the boy, haylee would try and distract him so he could direct his anger at her instead. their bond was strong, and it grew even stronger with the years passing. he had lost the connection he had with the spirits who granted him good and light - healing kind of magic, but she always reminded him that he would never lose his sister. 

a few years later  lily and john dubois lost their lives and left their children to become orphans. haylee never knew what exactly happened to her parents - a few of their close family friends claimed they were murdered by dark forces, but they could never be certain. haylee was crushed, at least she thought her brother would stick around, but  he found a coven, one that was willing to take him in, make him one of their own, but haylee had no place there. they made her an offer that she had to refuse. she chose a life on her own, a life of solitude and constant wander, than a life filled with darkness and destruction. her healing magic was her best friend, her mother, her father, her brother and her home. it was all she was left with, but it was plenty. 

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Valeria Mendoza Species: Balam Occupation: Freelance Writer Age: 34 Years Old Played By: Dylan Face Claim: Eiza González

"I don’t enjoy being a buzzkill, but if it keeps us safe, I’ll be the bad guy."

TW: Drug use

Valeria had no desire to cause harm. Her earliest memories were etched with celestial bodies painted  into  dark skies, nurturing her profound connection to the unknown. As a child, her curiosity about the intricacies of systems, both in their maintenance and destruction, cast her in the familial role of Internet router extraordinaire. School posed a challenge, as anything beyond her specific interests eluded her grasp. The first time she skipped class to  accompany  her older peers as they smoked pot in the school parking lot, she felt a sense of belonging that had eluded her within the confines of the school walls.

Despite her disdain for the public education system, Valeria secured a scholarship to a competitive university at the age of 18. However, the joy of acceptance was marred by an attack on her family that  resulted in  the death of her mother. The shock triggered a near-complete emotional shutdown, leaving Valeria with a limited capacity for depth and nuance. Mirroring her father, she assumed a protective stance over her family, taking on a parental role despite being the second oldest sibling. Her interactions with siblings became marked by snaps and snarls at any perceived misstep. 

In the wake of her father's decree to eliminate any outsider found in their woods, Valeria pledged compliance. Though not eager to charge without cause, she understood the necessity and executed it swiftly. Her defensive attacks often unfolded before she could formulate a coherent thought. In the aftermath, she would simply  count  Mendoza heads  before  retreating  into  their  makeshift  home. 

At 34 years old, Valeria finds herself only beginning to explore life beyond survival mode. Night terrors persist, but she won't talk  about it. She has seen the devastation feeling can bring. Witnessing her father's emotional collapse added a layer of resentment for being forced into a caretaker role, yet guilt accompanies the realization that she, at least, is alive. The fate of her younger sibling, Felix, remains uncertain to her.

One autumn morning, Valeria packed her backpack with essentials and headed to Wicked's Rest, following a rumor on an online forum that those responsible for the attack on her family had resurfaced. Armed with a flip phone, an old computer tablet, and retractable claws, Valeria seeks answers, driven by a burning desire to uncover the truth. 

Character Facts:

Personality: Tenacious, inquisitive, innovative, reliable, territorial, impatient, pedantic

Valeria adores her family, her friends, and her books.

Although she cares deeply for loved ones, she has difficulty showing affection. She typically resorts to acts of service. If a friend lets her know they aren’t feeling well, she’ll show up with medicine, food, and self-care essentials tailored to the needs & likes of the particular friend. 

She almost always thinks she knows best, but it’s hard to argue with her when she’s the one helping drag your car out of a lake at 2 am. 

Valeria is extremely protective of her younger sibling, Felix. She feels an unshakeable responsibility to look out for them, and as a result, she can be overbearing at times. 

When she has her guard down, she is known to be funny. When she has a drink or two in her, she is known to ramble about her research and various other topics.

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober: Day Thirteen - "Cold Compress."

Sorry for how short this is :(( But I didn't have anything planned for today. If I have time today, I'll write something longer.

Also, if you like Gregory as a character/think he's interesting, Irecommend checking out the 600-post thread that 'Gregory's Personal Bodyguard' just released on Twitter. It's a long read but 110% worth it.

TW: Implied/referenced kidnapping, a child in distress, manipulation, and sickness.

--

“He’s not getting any better,” Vanny says, pressing a cold compress to Gregory’s forehead. Her boss makes a displeased noise. Vanny winces a little at that. “He needs a doctor.”

“Fix him,” it grits out, forceful and demanding. “Or else.”

Vanny doesn’t have to ask what it means by ‘or else.’ She’s seen it tear a full-grown man apart, limb from bloody limb. It has little regard for people, and she’s very aware of how replaceable she is to it. 

She nods. “Of course.”

The rag beneath her hand is warm now, so Vanny carefully removes it and resoaks it in cool water. She reapplies it, hoping the rag might bring his fever down. Without medicine, there’s little Vanny can actually do. 

Gregory had been fine this morning. A little more cranky than usual, but that’s to be expected given that their ‘boss’ kept him up well past his bedtime. It has a hard time recognizing that people, humans, have needs. Or maybe, Vanessa Vanny thinks to herself, it just doesn’t care. 

Either way, Gregory was fine until noon. And then, he started complaining that his head was killing him, and that he wanted to rest. Both of which didn’t bother her, because it felt like Gregory was just being cranky. 

But a little before dinner, after waking him from a nap, Gregory started bawling his eyes out. Holding his head in his hands, Gregory repeatedly told her that he didn’t feel good. Vanny has very little sympathy for others. Whatever her boss did to her prevents her from feeling or making any real connection, but seeing Gregory-the only real connection she has-shivering and in obvious distress, it was hard not to feel a sense of urgency. 

Thankfully, Gregory is light, so she carried him back to their boss. Well, less to their boss, and more to Gregory’s bed. Which has the unfortunate placing of being near their boss’ charging station. 

It didn’t take long for it to emerge from the charging station. It crept over to her, eyes firmly on the boy she had just laid on the bed. 

After that it was a blur of her boss barking orders in her ear, demanding and pressuring Vanny to keep Gregory stable. The boy in front of her slowly grew paler and paler, his pulse getting weaker. 

Which brings her up to now, with Gregory not doing much better. He’s sweaty and shaky and in desperate need of medical intervention. His face is red and blotchy, and when Vanny wakes him up to take a few Tylenols she scrounged up, he sobs. Disorientated and afraid. 

He cries for his family, clinging to Vanny’s costume. The stupid thing is itchy and warm, but her boss makes her wear it when interacting with it or Gregory. Her only saving grace right now is the fact that she doesn’t have to wear the gloves. She sees Gregory’s eyes searching her, as if trying to find something. He must not find it, because a moment later he bursts into tears for the third time. 

She sighs, forcing him to lay back. “You need to rest,” Vanny murmurs. “You won’t get better if you don’t.”

“Will my mom be here when I wake up?”

Vanny tenses, unsure of how to answer him. It’s not a secret that Gregory was taken from his parents quite forcefully, and she would know. She was the one that did it. 

She smiles, but it’s useless, the only thing Gregory can see is the wide-stitched smile of her costume. 

He begins to tear up again, twisting away from her. “I want my mom and dad!” He cries, squirming. “I wanna go home!”

Vanny opens her mouth but is quickly interrupted by her boss. It taps her on the shoulder, pointing at the door. Its instructions are clear: leave until she’s needed. 

Wordlessly, Vanny obeys. Though, deep down, she wants so very badly to remain with the sickly, confused child who needs comfort. Real human comfort. 

That night, if she cries in the safety of her room, no one has to know.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hey there! I know you've answered previously that pretty much anything can be traumatizing for a child, but how damaging can be growing up with chronic illnesses and no aid from your caretakers?

TW: medical stuff, neglect (?), possible child abuse, not-so-great parenting

/

I've had gastrointestinal issues since I was born, and almost daily episodes through my childhood where eating anything at all would result in unbearable pain, but was too afraid of telling that to my parents, scared they would blame me for it. Later in life, in my adolescence, my toenails would start growing into my fingers and cause infections that almost resulted in necrosis, but I was denied the so-needed surgeries by my father, who refused to pay for them even though he had plenty of money, so I was forced to make "homemade" procedures by myself (which often resulted in worst outcome). I also remember having antibiotics forced down my throat with a syringe when I refused to take it and getting slapped when I threw it up over the kitchen floor (I believe I was about 7 years old at that time).

Note that I had forgotten most of this and recovered these memories when, a few years back, I had a GI episode in my father's house, and he screamed and berated me when I "threw up", aka gagged, while trying to run for the toilet. He pushed me into the bathroom and yelled how "it wasn't that hard" (to get there), and when I told him it wasn't my fault, he called me selfish and ungrateful. Then, instead of taking me to the hospital or letting me see my mom, he got furious that I didn't think he was able to take care of me and accused me of trusting my mom better than him. He coerced me into trying to make myself throw up again (the fingers down the throat thing) and then gave me hangover medicine. After that, things got messy for various reasons and I got officialy disowned.

Now, I am freshly diagnosed with DID and can't bring myself to believe it was all really that bad. There were some less than pleasant parts, sure, and there's plenty more to unpack beyond these small separate events, but I don't feel like that's enough. I have felt terrible ever since, like I somehow misled my psychiatrist into believing that I had a terrible life. I'm truly sorry for the rant (you can just stick with the original question if you'd like), I'm just so confused.

Hi anon,

First of all I'm so sorry to hear about what you went through. It's honestly unsettling just to listen to, and I can't imagine what it must've been like to experience it yourself. Please know that this can absolutely count as trauma, and it makes sense that this may have led to the development of DID.

It can be natural for trauma survivors to feel like what happened to them wasn't sufficient to be traumatized. It's almost like a kind of trauma impostor syndrome, where you feel like you're lying to yourself about the severity of your trauma, when in reality it is that bad. I want to recognize that it takes a lot of strength for you to challenge these thoughts and choose to discuss and work through your experiences and the feelings surrounding them. Learning to give yourself some self-compassion and self-acceptance is a slow but rewarding process.

I understand how it can be hard to acknowledge the gravity of our trauma, especially when we find ourselves surprised by how much it actually affected us. But it may be helpful to remember that trauma isn't defined by what happened to us, rather it's defined by our psychological reactions to it. This is because we all have a multitude of factors that either contribute to or hinder our resilience - our ability to cope with stressful or potentially traumatic events. This can include genes, preexisting mental health issues, the environment we were raised in, what support we had, and so on.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could best help you in processing your trauma, exploring your system, dismantling impostor syndrome, and developing some healthy coping mechanisms that you can take with you along your healing journey.

I hope I could help, and we're here if you need anything.

-Bun

[womanofwords]

On Display

TW: dehumanisation (to a degree), human being treated like a pet, humiliation, and torture.

Villain was a trophy. Nothing more than a spoil of war that Hero had picked up when the battle was over. Quite literally picked up; Hero had draped them over their shoulder and carried them to their new castle. Their protests were silenced by a hard smack to the ass.

"Hush your mouth and cease your struggling, brat," Hero said. "You'll be well taken care of with me."

From then on, the former villain spent their days as a pet. They wore fancy outfits that Hero chose and literally dressed them in, not even allowing Villain the privacy of dressing themselves. A collar was clipped around his neck that, instead of displaying their real name, read the word TROPHY. They ate the food that Hero gave to them without complaint. The last time they had refused to eat a meal, Hero force-fed him.

As Hero's pet and living victory trophy, Villain often found themselves being put in humiliating positions for the purpose of being displayed to people coming to meet Hero. Villain was often seen by Hero's subordinates kneeling next to Hero's chair as Hero toyed with the leash attached to Villain's collar. Sometimes, much to Villain's humiliation, Villain's hair would be braided in front of them as Hero called them degrading pet names such as 'Hero's little trophy', 'darling pet' and 'handsome little baby doll'.

One time, Hero had picked Villain up and put them onto their lap like a parent with a child. Literally no different than a lap dog. When Villain attempted to protest, a lollipop was shoved into their mouth. "That's going to stay in your mouth until it's all gone, pet," Hero ordered.

Hero's favourite thing to do to Villain was to lock him up in a literal gilded cage on display for their underlings, who would all take the time to pet and coo at him when they weren't at meetings or performing tasks for Hero. Villain wasn't just contained by way of a locked door, but also by handcuffs above his head that pulled his arms upwards. Teasing hands would pinch his face, ruffle his hair and poke his sides as he squirmed with impotent rage. He was literally a pet. And nobody mocked Hero's pet.

One day, Villain got a lucky break when Hero dressed them and took him downstairs. "Where are we going?" Villain asked.

"You're going to meet your old friend again after such a long time apart," Hero said, taking them into a dank basement. Villain clung to Hero's arm when they heard what sounded like a growl. "It's OK, precious, I know you want to stay close to owner. Owner will protect you from the nasty things in here," Hero cooed, making Villain want to be sick with shame.

Hero led Villain further into the dark room, groans echoing around the human pet's ears. Then the pleading started.

"Food."

"Water."

"Medicine."

"Why are they so sad? What's happening to them?" Villain asked.

"They're staying here forever," Hero explained. "This is what happens to anybody that displeases me."

Villain looked at the faces that he could see. "None of these people are my friends," Villain said.

"I know," Hero said, as he took his precious pet further in. He stopped at one that stank of dried blood and human waste. He tapped on it. "Come out, Supervillain," Hero called. "I have someone you might like to see!" Villain whimpered as the name rang bells in their head.

Supervillain.

Their leader.

They had been beaten and starved, ribs straining against their bruised skin. Ill-fitting rags threatened to slip off their now pathetically thin frame. "Villain? Is that you?" they asked, pressing themselves against the bars of their cell to get a better look.

"Yes, it's me," Villain admitted, tears running down his face. This was what Supervillain had been going through this whole time?

"This is what happens when you go against me, Villain," Hero said. "In time, all my enemies end up under my control. I was going to do the same to you, but then I saw potential in you. A sign that you could be far more than mere dungeon rot."

"Long story short, it's a good thing you're cute, Villain." Hero petted Villain's head before leading them away from the underground dungeons and towards their quarters, locking the door behind them as weak protests drifted towards Hero's apathetic ears. Once the two were alone, Hero grabbed Villain and whispered something into his ear.

"I bet they'd love to be you."

[brokenhardies]

Athel'min Backstory!

TW: Sick parent, bodily mutilation, loss of a limb

Raised in the Heartmoor Hamlet of the Oderan Wilds in Marquet, Lorra’min Ashland was told to keep quiet and stay put within the city’s walls, never to leave outside, lest they be killed. Her mother - Amnestria - was a single parent, having raised Lorra’min on her own after their father walked out when they were young. She was also a worshipper of the Changebringer, having gained slight healing and medicinal abilities from her worship. She was deeply overprotective of her only child, in spite of Lorra’min choosing to run and play in the Oderan Wilds with her friends.

However, one day while playing around the Heartmoor just outside the Heartmoor Hamlet, the group were attacked by - what Lorra’min assumed was - a troll. Whilst the group managed to run, Lorra’min, whose only weapon was a wooden toy bow and arrow, chose to stay back and try to distract the creature so it wouldn’t target the Hamlet proper, knowing it could destroy the town. That was the wrong decision, as the creature took the bow and arrow out of Lorra’min’s hands, forcing her to the floor. It would then grab her right arm and tear it off, leaving a mess of blood and bone behind.

Lorra’min’s friends, having witnessed the attack, returned her to the Hamlet, with her, where their mother had been informed of the attack. Amenestria was horrified, but stunned by her daughter’s bravery, healing her arm with the blessing of the Changebringer. Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring Lorra’min’s arm back. Still in shock and pain, Lorra’min retreated into herself, not wanting to draw attention to the missing limb. Eventually, a passing through Artificer had created a prosthetic limb, which was used to replace Lorra’min’s real one.

At the behest of one of her friends who witnessed the attack, Lorra’min began to train herself in archery - first using the wooden bow and arrow she had used that night, then switching to a proper bow and arrow. On the eve of her naming ceremony, she chose the name Athel’min, from the elvish word meaning ‘bow’.

However, after years of being protected by her mother, Athel’min would have to protect her. Amnestria came down with a sickness, that slowly began to take away her body and mind. She had almost become a husk of her former self. The only way to cure it was with healing magic and diamonds, and Athel’min needed the money for that, which they lacked. Eventually, she entered the city of Jrusar, finding a post for a mercenary for hire. While she lacked the experience, she made good with her client and began getting to work as a sellsword.

That experience with sellswording brought in coin, as well as ways to rebuild her arm, and to get medicine for their ailing mother. It later would spiral into Athel’min meeting Lord Robert Sharpe, a member of the Revelry, who wished for her to track down a Tiefling girl who humiliated him… And kill her. Athel’min, unsure of why he would wish for a young woman to be killed for no reason, took the job in order to get some more money.

However, upon meeting the girl - Jester Lavorre - Athel’min was surprised that someone that sweet would have a bounty on her head. Whilst the money was good, murdering a woman for no reason was not what Athel’min wanted to get that money. She chose to join Jester instead, acting as a bodyguard. They would later meet Fjord Stone and Beauregard Lionette, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Taglist

@darth-caillic​ @sterling-writes​ @ryutabas​ @reirvival​ @arrthurpendragon​ @foxesandmagic @eddysocs @superspookyjanelle (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)

[wordsmithings]

Hey, isn’t that EUN CHUNG-HEE? I thought they went away for the summer? Did you hear they might be a WITCH? What I do know for certain is that they’re 53, and they’re PRINCIPLED, PASSIONATE, ALTRUISTIC and PERFECTIONISTIC, OVERLY PROTECTIVE, AND STUBBORN. They’re originally from JEJU ISLAND, SOUTH KOREA, and have been in Fenrir’s Wood RECENTLY living in GRANT PARK. I wonder if they still work at WIN GARAGE as the OWNER. Best if they stay safe for now.

Stats || Wanted Connection

⚜ THE CARETAKER

Originating from a small village in Jeju Island, the Eun family clan practiced Mugyo (무교), a traditional form of animistic religion, even to this very day. Due to this, their relationship with the spirits and their innate magical ability were on par, if not stronger than other family clans. Despite their strong ties to the spirits, they did not desire dominion over other family clans, merely wanting to maintain the balance and order of things. They mostly stayed neutral as they oversaw the family clans’ affair who sought their council. As such, they were often regarded as the ‘caretaker’ to those in the know.

⚜ THE MAN, FIERCELY PROTECTIVE AND KIND

TW: mention of child negligence.

Eun Chung-Hee met the Oh couple when they requested for the Matriarch’s council, and for a cure to the ‘disease’ that afflicted their infant. He witnessed their hopeful eyes turned bitter when they learnt that there was no permanent remedy for their son’s illness, shameful of their imperfect heir. The Matriarch had warned them not harm the innocent child, but despite their reluctant promise, she still worried for the newborn how had yet to know of the world. So, she assigned him to be his personal caretaker, and that was when their fate intertwined.

The couple kept their promise, and for that, Oh Chung-Ae had never wanted for anything. At least, on the surface.

In front of everyone, they paraded their son, telling everyone how proud they were to have Oh Chung-Ae as their heir. When the curtains were drawn and the masks taken off, Eun Chung-Hee stepped in to protect the young witch from the reality of it all. He made excuses for the couple’s lack of interest in their own son, held him close when the loneliness became unbearable until Chae fell asleep, exhausted and face wet with tears, and still told him that his parents loved him in their own way, despite the ache in his chest. He went through countless sleepless nights when Chae’s fever ran too high and there was no medicine that could help ease his pain, and he could do nothing but pray to the deities and spirits as he held the small hand in his, only for his concern be pushed aside when he confronted the couple.

Every time anger simmering inside him, Chung-Hee turned to Chae and showed him how to be kind instead, to love the world and everything in it despite its everything. Because that was the only thing he could do for the child that was not his own by blood.

He watched as Chae grew to be a fine young man, overcoming every adversity to stand on his own two feet. And by the Gods did he feel proud of the man Chae became. He thought his parents would share the same sentiment, so it devastated him when he learnt that Chae was to be sent to Fenrir’s Wood with the excuse of wanting to nurture Chae’s experience before taking over the family’s business. Despite his vehement objection, Chae was still sent overseas, and he was forced to stay behind since there were other duties that needed attending to.

Chung-Hee had to be content with the regular updates he often received by someone he knew in Fenrir’s Wood. He’d received titbits about Chae’s day to day, how’s business going, and who he hung out with. Pictures of surveillance would pop up on his laptop every now and then to prove that Chae was still alive and well, and sometimes pictures of the people around him would accompany it too. There were dangerous things that happened in Fenrir’s Wood, but despite his worry Chung-Hee decided not to interfere, observing from afar how Chae would tackle them, and feeling proud as always when Chae found a way to get back up again.

Things weren’t smooth sailing where he was, however.

There were talks amongst the staff when he visited the main house, that they had seen the young master coming in and out of his father’s office. It piqued Chung-Hee’s interest, mostly because he knew that Chae was still in Fenrir’s Wood, the last time he checked. Worried that something might’ve happened to Chae without him knowing, Chung-Hee marched into his father’s office unannounced, and uncovered something that he wished he didn’t.

Now feared for Chae’s safety, Chung-Hee decided to move to Fenrir’s Wood once he received permission from the Matriarch, prepared to once again protect Chae by any means necessary.

[weepingpussywillowtree]

One account of generational trauma

tw: discussion of alcoholism, abuse, war, eating disorders, abortion, and myriad other upsetting topics.

This is sort of a writing exercise for me. its quite long and probably depressing. no need to read, I just wanted to put it somewhere.

It probably started before this, but to my knowledge it starts with my great-grandparents.

My maternal grandmother's parents came over from Ireland before she was born. Her father was a lawyer, her mother was a housewife. They were both alcoholics. He dies when grandma is around fourteen, and she is thrust into the role of family caretaker for her mother and sisters. Grandma takes care of great-grandma and her youngest sister, who is intellectually and physically disabled, until they both die. My mom tells stories about how when great-grandma got dementia, she would accidentally drink cleaning supplies because she used hide alcohol in them and would forget which bottles were liquor. These stories are apparently meant to be funny.

My maternal grandfather is orphaned at birth; his mother dies bringing him into the world. His father, having no idea what to do with a dead wife and a new baby, gives him up to an orphanage. No one knows much of anything else about grandpa's childhood. The topic is avoided in discussion, even after he is dead.

On my dad's side, grandma is raised by strict parents. Her mother is exacting and critical, and judgemental of grandma's size. Grandma is bulimic, and has been her entire life. Dad is conceived out of wedlock when grandma is a teenager. Her and grandpa have a shotgun wedding, grandma's mother is not happy about this either. Grandma's father is abusive. He sits in the basement of the house chain smoking, a beer always in his hand. Everyone is afraid of him. He only emerges from the basement to exact his wrath on the residents of the house. Great-grandma is much happier after he dies.

Grandpa rarely talks about anything except bird watching and how he dodged the Vietnam draft. Dad says that grandpa's dad was a world war two veteran who's parents came over from Sicily, and that he had darker skin like grandpa. He was extremely racist against Japanese people because he claimed that during the war when he was a prisoner, they locked him in a cage and called him a monkey and some other nasty racial slurs. Grandpa doesn't talk to any of his extended family. He has never mentioned his mother. A quick google search shows that his extended family that remain are mostly involved in lots of crime and domestic abuse.

My mother was abused by both her parents. Grandpa beat her and her siblings when they misbehaved. He used to say "this is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you". Grandma also used corporal punishment but she was more emotionally abusive. She told her kids there was something wrong with them, that they were born wrong. She picked favorites and iced people out. Her opinion was law in the house, always. She was emotionally cold and distant. It is eerie to me how much this account mimics my own mother's abuse of me.

Dad's mom taught him to be bulimic. Its something he still can't kick. Its a large reason i've struggled with disordered eating myself. His father is usually incredibly docile and quiet, but he has a secret explosive temper that is terrifying when it is revealed. Dad and his brother are both spoiled and abused. They are pitted against each other by their parents, smothered, subject to grandpa's temper, and grandma's paranoia and whims. Grandma forces my father to take a cocktail of cold and flu medicines most days when he is a child because she cannot accept that he is allergic to her cats. Similar stories dominate my father's childhood experience. Keeping up with the joneses is paramount and family trauma's and secrets are buried at all costs, usually with the assistance of binge eating.

As a child, my mother is cruel and exacting. Emotional vulnerability is forbidden and harshly punished. When she punishes us, she says that it is harder for her to do than it is for us to experience. Food deprivation, verbal abuse, and extreme isolation (months at a time alone in the house, which is possible because we are homeschooled) are favorite punishments, but being dragged, hit, kicked, and having hard or sharp objects thrown at you comes standard as well. She picks favorites on a rotating basis, but broadly, my brother is spoiled, my sister is ignored and looked down on, and I am hated with an unprecedented vitriol. My aunt says grandma always preferred her boys to her girls.

As the oldest girl, I am hated, but also expected to raise my siblings alongside my mother, and take on more domestic tasks. Despite my usual willingness to go along with this, as well as my tendency to follow every rule I'm given, I'm given the moniker 'queen bitch' by the whole family, a nickname passed down from my mom's oldest sister. Mom tells me that I was born with something wrong with me that I can never fix, I just have to learn how to suppress it. She tells our extended family that she believes I am insane.

On the top shelf in our kitchen, sit two angel bear beanie babies. Mom tells us they are my brother and I's dead siblings that we shared a womb with. I think about them on my birthday and wonder if they would have liked me. If we could have played together. I am older when I learn they are the result of a voluntary pregnancy reduction. Mom says dad forced her into it, saying he would leave her and withdraw support if she wanted to keep all four of us. Other relatives say that mom decided to do it independently to reduce our chance of having severe disabilities or dying straight after we were born. My guess is that neither story is completely true. Mom wants to bury the remains of the two fetuses and have a service. Dad takes them in the middle of the night and leaves them at the dump. The idea that anyone might know about this procedure is too shameful.

Dad spends most of his time in the basement or living room, eating and playing video games. We learn not to bother or interrupt him at a young age. He's usually quiet and nervous, but he has an explosive and terrifying temper. At night, I hear him purging from his binges in the bathroom. I ask my mother why dad is always sick and she makes a face. When dad does spend time with us, he alternates between spoiling us with all the latest toys and experiences and piles of junk food, and taking his anger out on us. As I'm older, I become his emotional support. He treats me like a second wife, and regularly calls me by my mother's name by accident. He leaves the bedroom door open while masturbating and leaves pornography open on the family laptop. When he has a mental breakdown and ends up in a psychiatric hospital when I'm a teenager, I learn he was sexually abused by a sports coach as a child. I learn he was not allowed alone with us when we were infants after he left hand shaped bruises on my body for crying when I was only a few days old.

I am filled with sadness as a child, a deep sense of tragedy and pain that I don't understand the gravity nor the source of. Now, I understand, at least partly, where this feeling comes from.

I only see my family a few times a year. My sister is in a cult, seeking the attention and acceptance she never got as a child, and dating a man twenty years her senior who recently got out of prison for murdering a woman by beating her to death. My brother is seen as gentle, reliable, and an intellectual genius, but he has a manipulative streak and a nasty temper, which becomes violent if you push him too hard. I worry for his girlfriend. My mother is in a second marriage with a man who's first marriage ended when he choked his wife in a fit of rage. She has no friends, and bemoans to me how alone she is. But when I visit, she begins belittling and picking fights with me within a day. I wonder how much of it she means and how much of it is an echo of what her mother told her. Dad is alone. He does crossfit, goes to concerts with friends, takes care of his dogs, and is successful in his career. He went to therapy after the divorce, and is on anti-anxiety medication. I know that he will never apologize to me, but I'm happy for him.

When I was deciding if I'd ever have children, I asked myself a lot of questions, but one of them was if I could commit to breaking the cycle. If, when faced with the typical difficulties of parenting, I could do something other than fall back on what my family has been doing to each other for generations. And the honest answer is that I don't know. There are many other reasons I don't want children, but answer to this particular question is why even if I wanted children, I would be very hesitant to have them. Because here's the truth: after everything I said about my parents, it seems obvious to you, the reader, that they are recreating the traumas they experienced, but both of them thought that they were breaking the cycle. That they were treading new ground. And the idea of that, that I could have a child and bring them into a soup of pain, tragedy, and confusion, all while sincerely believing that I was different, terrifies me more than anything.

Mom gave me scars on my forearm with her fingernails when I was eleven. In a few days, I'm getting a new tattoo in that same spot. I want that part of my body back, and so I'm taking it. I'm going to make it beautiful again. I woke up a few months ago, and realized that I was happy, and that for the first time in my life, I wanted to be alive. I look at myself in the mirror, and I see a little girl who deserves good things, who needs someone to protect and take care of her. My family can never be those people, but I can be that person for myself.