#Tw : Abuse & self blame

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

but also like. guys you don’t need to leave the minecraft youtube community bc one person is bad to clarify. like. shelby is a minecraft youtuber. a lot of her friends are minecraft youtubers. those friends are supportive and as far as we know all believe her. the vast majority of minecraft youtubers are like. fine. this shit is something that Happens because Abusers are Manipulative, going to another hobby will Not shield you from anything and you’re not immoral for liking something bad people also liked. which is. one of the biggest video games ever. like in this situation no one was knowingly harbouring an abuser and it seems everyone was supportive. this is just a case of some people being shit, not anything to do with mcyt. hell, the guy hasn’t been on minecraft in like a year lmao.

i fully understand why the content might be uncomfortable to you guys now but like, please don’t self flagellate and cut yourself off from an entire genre of media because of one guy again. i saw that happen after the dream stuff and a lot of people ended up losing important things because they made rash decisions and felt like they Had to leave. but please. take one deep fucking breath. this has happened before. this has happened so much before, and in ways far worse than this. because abusers, unfortunately, exist. you should not feel guilty for being manipulated by a manipulative abuser, don’t blame yourself. do what you have to, but please, please keep in mind that the majority of minecraft youtube is fine. it is fine to continue engaging with it. it’s fine to be manipulated by an abuser and it’s not your fault. please don’t make rash decisions and end up losing things you care deeply about and being unable to get them back. distance yourself all you want, but please be careful to not do so out of emotional self harm from the guilt. that’s something this fandom encourages far too much- even outside of this- and it’s unhealthy and anyone expecting it of you is cruel.

[akindplace]

Abusive people often know what to say/do to make you feel at your worst. The hurt they inflict is their responsibility, always, and it's not a matter of "people can only hurt you if you allow it". In an abusive situation, you don't have control over the hurt they are inflicting. It's not "just words", it's not casual like someone making a critical comment. It's abuse. It's traumatizing. And abusers often taken control out of people and then gaslight them to making them believe it's their fault. The guilt you feel about yourself or the victim-blaming actions of others is very damaging, but the blame is never the survivor's, the abuser is always, always, the one at fault, and there is never any way around that fact, though people may say otherwise and you might feel guilt. Please don't blame yourself. Please don't dismiss your feelings.

if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting the blog ☕️

[winepresswrath]

what louis did to lestat and what louis did to armand are connected and that's important to the story but also. it is simply not the same. nothing louis did excuses armand's behaviour, that's not how anything works, but he did not "cross a line" or "poke at armand," he weaponized armand's history of abuse to belittle and demean him. nothing armand said to louis came close- the equivalent would have been "oooh, i'm such a stupid bitch that my husband can beat me half to death and i'll keep crawling back for more even when it endangers my daughter!" it's retraumatizing and deeply destabilizing to hear that shit from your partner. and in response armand should have been like "well this man sucks when he's high and he's high all the time, so i'm bouncing" but if he'd done that we wouldn't have a story, would we?

edit: i've come back to give armand credit for "claudia didn't love you like we did/do. ps. u used her to distract from your own hurt feelings" that shit does hit in a similar way. however "the ways someone hurt you have left you contemptible and weak. they scrawled 'dirty and annoying' all over your soul in red ink and it's never coming off" is just outstanding work. timeless

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Izuku isn't one to keep grudges. He'd rather bury the hatchet & move on. But when word got out that Bakugō's past as a bully & an abuser got exposed at the latest annual Hero Gala, where he just got promoted to the #1 Hero no less, Izuku couldn't deny the small feeling of satisfaction within him. Soon, Bakugō lost the respect of his fellow Class 1-A graduates, former UA teachers, most of Japanese citizens & the whole world. His Hero license got revoked. He becomes what Izuku used to be. An outcast. A social pariah.

:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

TW: this will discuss bakugou’s abusive behavior towards izuku, internal conflict, self blaming, social media harassment and bullshit, etc.

When I tell you I love karmic retribution

Izuku had kept quiet about the abuse he had faced at the hands of bakugou (and previous classmates and teachers) for so goddamn long

He had guiltily hoped that someone would fucking realize. Understand. Believe him. Stand up for him. Anything.

He had felt so selfish about wanting this, but it was such a deep and intrinsic feeling

He’s a goddamn kid, he just wants someone to tell him that what he’s gone through isn’t fair. That he didn’t deserve that. That no one, including he, deserves that. That he is worth kindness. That he is worth care. That he is just fucking accepted.

And lord knows he has had his daydreams of revenge. So many. Like so fucking many.

Spiteful revenge is a very helpful way to get through the day.

So, when it eventually came out about what bakugou had done to him for so long. He did feel vindicated.

Somehow, videos from Aldera had surfaced online.

Those who hadn’t liked bakugo prior to seeing them came out of the woodworks. They were loud and everywhere.

Bakugou asked izuku to speak out on it, stand up for him. Only then, did izuku break

He had been quiet on the issue for months. Decades, really.

He made a short and concise post on whatever social media platform people use in bnha essentially saying that yes, bakugou had done those things. Yes, bakugou’s behavior was unacceptable. He never spoke out about it because he did not have reason to think that he would be believed and that he doubted any change would be made.

He does not discuss his personal feeling about bakugou. He does starts up an anti-bullying campaign.

Bakugou quickly falls from the fickle grace that is social media

People reach out to izuku left and right apologizing to him and asking if he’s okay and good fucking gods does it suck

Because they only care now that he’s useful to them

He is so conflicted and he really just does not want to talk about it. It quickly becomes known that it is a touchy subject and one that hero Dekiru refuses to speak on.

Does that stop people from asking about it? No.

Eventually, things settle

Eventually, bakugou ends up making a large donation to the campaign izuku started.

They never become friends. Izuku doesn’t even forgive bakugou. That’s okay, it’s not needed. They do get to a point where they can see each other walking in the street and acknowledge the other. No words, just acknowledgement.

I hope you liked this!!!! If bakugou is your favorite character and you think this is stupid, that is fine!

Thank you for the ask!!! :D

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Everything Good

CW: Self-hatred, victim-blaming, referenced past noncon, Kauri does so love to get drunk when he’s sad doesn’t he, some big old angst

Follows directly after Antoni and Kauri’s fight here, happens before/concurrently with Who You Are Looking For

-

“I told Jameson in confidence,” Antoni is saying, the words finding their way through the white noise slowly overtaking Kauri’s mind. His hard jaw and hard eyes and hard voice all combine to give away what he’s really saying, underneath the words. I didn’t trust you enough to tell you.  Kauri opens his mouth with some retort but it falls apart, nothing comes out but air. Antoni speaks over the silence. “I did not tell you, or Jasha, and that was my choice not to tell.” Antoni’s voice is hard as granite, and Kauri can’t breathe as he feels the inhuman stone shove itself down his throat. Unfeeling. Uncaring. “I am sorry it hurt you that you did not know.”

No, you’re not.

Everyone says they’re sorry, no one ever means it.

It always happens again-

“Do not ask me again.”

Kauri isn’t sure if he even remembers how to blink. His heart pounds in his chest, so loud that it beats inside his ears, and he can’t say anything. He realizes with  start that he is terrified of Antoni’s anger, that he understands that Antoni is the most dangerous person living in this house and Kauri has said and done all the wrong things for the last time. He manages a thin, stammered, “Ant-”

“I am ashamed of what was done to me,” Antoni snaps, a look on his face like a sneer. Loathing. Kauri is shit on his shoe, needing scraped off or dissolved with bleach. They’re supposed to be partners, but then again, when has Kauri been loved without pain?

Jake loves you.

The thought doesn’t land. None of them do, not with that look on Antoni’s face.

Antoni turns away from him, and it’s like slamming a door in his face. Like when Derrick would grab him by the arm and shake him for being so fucking stupid, why the fuck did you do that and Kauri never had a good reason. He doesn’t have a good reason now. 

Antoni could hurt him for this. Antoni and Jake and Chris are never, ever supposed to hurt him. They’re the ones he can trust not to.

Antoni, a man carved of marble and painted in shades of furious anger, has a stare that burns holes through Kauri’s thin armor. “Is that not enough? Must you make it worse?”

Kauri swallows the rocks in his throat and lets them come to rest somewhere in his chest, behind his heart, a weight of guilt he can’t carry alone, but alone is what he is right now. Antoni looks at him like he’s been wounded by Kauri knowing this, when Kauri should be the first person people know will understand. Of course he understands. It’s the one thing he’s a goddamn expert in.

“... I-... I didn’t mean-” His voice catches in his throat, thin and reedy, and Kauri winces and tries again. He takes a step back. Antoni doesn’t notice him putting space between them. Even Kauri is barely aware of it, the instinctive self-protection. Please don’t hurt me for making you angry. “You don’t have to be ashamed of-”

“Yes, I do!” Antoni smacks his hand down on the countertop and Kauri flinches, but Antoni wasn’t looking at him. He doesn’t see it. Kauri takes another step back. “It was shameful!”

Blood rushes to Kauri’s face, a sudden burst of heat. His fingers, though, are freezing. His lungs feel cold. Granite has become a glacier, a weight of ice he can’t possibly resist or dig his way out of. His mind scrapes against ice walls as thick as canyons are deep. “Don’t say that.”

His voice is a whisper.

Antoni turns to look at him and it’s an expression Owen has shown him so many times Kauri could draw it with his eyes closed even now. A look that Kauri can hear, the words spit at him with Owen’s righteous anger, his judgement, the way he could hate Kauri and love him all at once. You stupid slut.

If Antoni hates him for it, too, then what was the point of ever leaving?

“... I, I don’t have to be ashamed-” His voice is a thin whimper, and Antoni smacks the countertop again. This time Kauri stumbles back against the wall, his eyes locked on Antoni’s hand where it lays, fingers splayed, on the laminate made to look like stone. Just a thin layer of imaginary strength over wood so easily broken. 

“Stop it!” Antoni stops. Takes in a breath. “Stop. This is not about you. Not everything on earth is about you. This conversation ends now.”

Kauri has never, ever dreamed that Antoni could look at him like this. Disgusted with him. Loathing him. God, he must hate Kauri for what he’s done, for what he is, if he can hate himself for having to live with it. Hating himself because he ever, for even a second, had to have the same life Kauri did. He swallows, thinking he can apologize, he can be good, he can talk his way out of this. If he can just be sorry enough, they can make this go away, like it never happened. “Antoni-”

“I said it ends.” 

Antoni walks away.

Kauri’s mouth is still open, but all he sees is Antoni’s back as he disappears down the hall. The room isn’t empty, though. It’s full of the weight of Kauri standing, once again, alone. This time he isn’t fleeing Owen’s rage and the hands around his neck, the realization that he can’t survive it if it keeps getting worse.

Instead, he’s standing here alone because Antoni doesn’t want him. 

“Makes sense,” He whispers to himself. Guilt rages, tears him apart from the inside. He’s just skin stretched over self-loathing. Kauri takes a deep breath, steadying himself, closing his eyes. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and dials a number he meant to block a long time ago, but never could quite bring himself to. Just in case.

He’s honestly surprised when Westin answers. “Kauri! Long time no fuck around! How are you?”

“Shit. It’s all shit.” Kauri’s voice still won’t rise above a hoarse whisper. 

“Oh, damn. What’s wrong? I thought you were all married and settled and shit now.”

“I-... I am-” I think I am, he says, but then tries to shove that thought away. Even if Antoni doesn’t want him, even if he’s ruined everything by not knowing how or when to shut his fucking mouth, Jake will still love him.

Won’t he?

God. He can’t make Jake choose between them. Antoni’s objectively the better choice, anyway. He’s better with the rescues, he’s a good cook, he never makes demands on anyone for anything at all. There’s no choice to be made, Antoni is always going to be the one who wins out. If Kauri gets picked it’d be out of pity.

Wouldn’t it?

“Then what’s up?”

“Uh, my. My, um-... Look, tonight sucks. You got anything?”

“Kauri. Gorgeous. Light of my… fucked-up early twenties. I always have something. You want to come over?”

Westin’s nice. He has an apartment he pays for in cash because you don’t pay taxes on the kind of money he makes, the way he makes it. Kauri hesitates, because he shouldn’t. He hasn’t, not in years. He had thought he’d grown out of running for something to wipe out his mind when it’s overwhelmed by fear. 

But he’s never been afraid like this. 

“... Uh-”

Chris peeks into the kitchen. His wide green eyes meet Kauri’s, below the shock of lavender hair with copper roots starting to show. He’s wearing a gray hoodie that drowns him and black pants with holes at the knees that Kauri honestly can’t tell if they’re jeans or leggings. Or both. He realizes Chris has shoes on. “Kauri? Is, is, is everything-”

Kauri grabs his arm, not so much thinking as just acting on impulse, the way he always does. “Come on. We’re going out.”

“Wh-what? We are?”

“Yeah.” Kauri puts the phone back to his ear. “Westin? You still there?”

“Yeah, eavesdropping shamelessly. You coming over?”

“Nah. Can I meet you outside of the Dolph? You know the place?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I love that place. You slept with the bartender, didn’t you?”

“That was like a decade ago, Wes. He’s probably not the bartender anymore.” Kauri heads down the steps, Chris’s arm still in his hand, the younger man stumbling after him confused and uncertain, but willing to go wherever Kauri takes him. Chris, at least, won’t ever look at him the way Antoni did. He isn’t fucking physically capable of it. No matter what Kauri says, or does, or thinks, or feels.

“I mean, I know, but just-”

“I did. I think his name was Jerome. Or Jared?”

“Jerome. Definitely Jerome. Jesus, that guy was stacked like a fucking…” Westin trails off, lost in thoughts. Or memories. “I don’t know. He definitely didn’t wear the right size t-shirt though.”

“You get bigger tips that way.”

Kauri half-shoves Chris into the car and gets himself into the driver’s seat. Jake’s metal music blares at first, but Kauri smacks at the volume button until the sound is silenced. “We’ll be there in half an hour. Can you bring me something chill?”

“Some, something chill?” Chris’s eyes widen, then he looks… unaccountably sad. “Kauri-”

“It’s fine,” Kauri says, waving a hand in Chris’s face without looking at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Westin’s voice goes soft. “You going to be up for some real fun tonight?”

“God, no.” Kauri still loves the way the word ‘no’ sounds in his own voice. He went so long without remembering how to say it and not fall apart. “Had a shit night. Just… half an hour, the Dolph, something good.”

“Got it. Hey, I always wondered… is the Dolph named about dolphins, or Dolph Lundgren?”

“... yes.” Kauri hangs up before Westin can say anything else, hitting the gas hard enough that the car jerks forwards and Chris grabs, a little panicked, at his seatbelt. “Whoops, sorry. Haven’t driven in a while.”

“It’s, um. It’s fine.” Chris’s phone vibrates and he checks it, wincing as if what he sees hurts him. “Uh, Jake, um, Jake wants to, to to to know, um, what, what happened, uh-”

“Tell him we’re going out.” Kauri takes a left turn too sharply, throwing Chris against the door. It occurs to him he probably shouldn’t drive when he feels like this, but fuck it, he doesn’t care anymore. Why not? He can drive the way he feels, and maybe it’ll help unstick the ice in his chest. “To dinner. To talk.”

Chris swallows. “... are, are we going out to, to, to dinner?”

“Well, the Dolph is kind of a dive-y bar and serves some pretty fucking awesome fried food, plus a real shitty take on a garden salad, so… sure. I’m buying.”

“And… and, and and and, we, um, will we… talk? About-... about what, what happened-”

“Once I am high off my ass and don’t care anymore,” Kauri says, taking another turn. He can see the blue sign marking that the interstate is coming up, now. Merge there, drive a few miles, get right back off. Head into an unassuming up-and-coming neighborhood where cute little boutiques vie with murals spray-painted on walls twenty years ago and left to fade with time and weather. Find the bright blue door with a light over the top. Go inside. Order drinks, swallow pills, and breathe.

He’s done it a thousand times before.

He can do it again.

It always helps. Or at least, it always holds off the pain long enough for Kauri to find a way to run from it.

“Kauri, please, how, how, how how how can I get home, if, um, if you get… high, again, you, you you you haven’t done that in a while, are-... can, can we talk before, um-” 

Kauri glances sideways, and feels a brand new wash of self-loathing when he sees that Chris looks worried, even a little scared. Of him.

He merges too hard and nearly sideswipes a semi. The guy blares his horn and Kauri flips him off and speeds past, changing lanes. It’s begging for something to go horribly wrong, flirting with an accident or injury or death. But fuck it, what does it matter?

“I think Antoni stopped loving me tonight,” Kauri says, voice flat. He’s proud of the way it doesn’t shake. “I think I deserve to get high again tonight. You get me home safe. Everyone goddamn wins, right?”

Chris clutches his phone like it could save his life. “Antoni could-... could never st, stop-”

“Yeah, maybe not with other people. But I have that very special talent, Chris, I can make anybody fall out of love with me just by being myself. Just by being who I am. Just by being… being what I was. What we were. Right? We don’t change. Once a stupid selfish slut, always a stupid selfish slut, right?”

He realizes he’s accidentally included Chris in that estimation a moment too late, when he glances to the side and sees the look of profound hurt on his sort-of little brother’s face.

Great work, Kaur-Bore, you did it again.

“Oh, shit, Chris. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s, it’s okay,” Chris whispers. He’s rocking forward and back, his fingers scratching at his jeans, running along the seams. “It’s okay. I, I, I think it sometimes, too. Once, um, once a, once a-”

“No. Not you, Chris. Never you.” Kauri holds a hand out, and Chris takes it, even though he can’t stop rocking, keeps his other hand moving. “That was a shitty thing to say, and I shouldn’t have said it. What if I promise I’ll eat something before I start drinking, and I won’t have more than three drinks and one of whatever Westin brings? How’s that sound?”

Chris squeezes his hand. Someone honks - not even at him - but it reminds Kauri that his exit is right there and he has to take a hard swerve not to miss it. Chris lets go to put his hands in his hair and lean over, eyes closing tightly, breathing in gasps. “Kauri!”

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” Kauri soothes, both hands back on the wheel, hitting the brakes so they come to a sudden jerking stop at the light, waiting for it to turn green. “See? Look? I can’t even go very fast on this road. We’re almost there, I swear.”

“Okay.” Chris rocks forwards and back, forwards and back. His hands slip under his hoodie, and Kauri knows without having to see that he’s tapping, soothing himself with sensation that settles his fraying nerves, just like always. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“Okay.” Kauri nods, and as he forces himself to ease down the road instead of flying, he rubs at Chris’s back with one hand. “I’m sorry. I’m scaring you, aren’t I? I don’t-... I don’t handle this shit well, but I bounce back, I promise.” He lets out a bitter brittle laugh, startling himself a little. He hasn’t laughed like that in years. “Enough people tell you you’re a piece of shit and make it clear they can’t love you after, you get real good at letting it roll off your back.”

Chris hesitates. Kauri can see that he’s thinking. The quiet draws out between them as Kauri spots the telltale blue door and pulls into the parking lot, easing around the grass growing through the asphalt cracks, stubborn weeds that refuse to be destroyed by the conditions they have to grow in.

“... did he, he, he say that?” Chris asks, softly. The bass from the music is echoing out of the bar, and Kauri closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest against the steering wheel. “Kauri? Did, did, did Antoni say that, uh that he he he doesn’t… love you? Anymore?”

Kauri keeps his eyes closed.

“He didn’t have to,” Kauri whispers. It’s funny. He’d thought his voice would shake more, saying it, but he finds that all his fear is draining away. Falling down into the white light that lives so far back inside his mind, but always finds its way back out. “I know the way he looked at me. I’ve seen that look so many fucking times. And if Antoni can’t love me, who can?”

“I can.” Chris whispers it back, and Kauri turns his head without lifting it, watching Chris looking back at him, half-smiling. “Jake can.”

“... nah. Even he’s gotta give up the ghost eventually, right?”

Chris looks too solemn, too serious. It shatters Kauri’s heart. “You, you, you aren’t a ghost.”

Kauri could laugh. He could laugh until he ran out of air and blacked out right here, laugh until all the pain is hidden deeply enough that no one remembers he ever felt it but him. “Aren’t I? I’m not handling the love affairs of the guy who used to own my body super well, am I? Just keep fuckin’ it up. Jesus Christ. I’m such a piece of shit.” 

Oh, good. The tears are back.

His voice gets thick and wet with them, and he has to hitch in breaths to say anything around a closing throat. 

“I’m such shit. Antoni didn’t want me to fucking know because he knows I’ll just make it about me, and I did! I made it all about me and my problems and my bullshit. He lied to me because he knew I can’t take knowing that my life is something other people would rather die than admit to having lived, so I make it about me and I’m awful and I don’t even goddamn blame him for hating me now. I’m a piece of shit and a bad partner, and Saint Jake can’t keep swooping in to save me. Eventually the goddamn martyr’s going to realize he doesn’t have to die for my stupid fucking sins, and then he’ll tell me to get my ass out of the house and give him his ring back so he can give it to somebody else better than me."

Chris is silent. Doesn’t matter.

It isn’t really him Kauri’s talking to anymore.

“I ruin it. It's like my biggest fucking talent! I ruin everything good. I get a good thing and I fuck it up, I always have. All the way back to the man who I used to be, I bet he sucked at relationships, too. Bet he did. That’s why I’m like this now, it was already there, and my shitty fucking life has only made me worse. I thought I was getting better. Therapy, and not drinking so much… but I never got any better. Jesus. Who’s going to want me, huh? Who’s going to want a washed up whore who can’t keep a relationship together with the two most patient men on the entire fucking planet? Why can’t I stop myself from doing things I know are just going to make it worse? Why can’t I ever stop it before I fuck it all up again?”

There’s a pause. 

"Why can't I ever remember I don't want to until I've already done it and it's too late to stop?"

Chris’s hand is warm against his back, suddenly, rubbing up and down. Offering him the same comfort he had given a minute ago, and Kauri shudders, forcing back a sob - or a scream - trying to find its way out.

“I love you,” Chris whispers. “As, as, as your brother. Your, um, your friend. I, I I I love you, and you, I, I mean it.”

“Love you too.” Kauri’s voice is wry, so thin it’s a single human hair stretched nearly to snapping. “I’m sorry I dragged you out with me, Chris. You probably had other plans, huh?”

“Not, not, not important ones.” His voice is a shrug. “I, I, I know how you, you, you feel.”

Kauri huffs. Is it laughter? He can’t even tell. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Chris’s voice is low and sincere. “I, I, I think that a, um, a lot. That, that, that I’m only going to to to to… mess it up. That, that, that I always… I always do. Because I, I, I can’t-... have, um. With them. And I can’t… sometimes I get so, so scared of, of, of… of-...” He trails off. “Of it all. Of me. Come, come on, Kauri.” 

Kauri looks at him, and Chris offers him a soft, sweet smile, leaning close. He smells like his shampoo, and laundry soap, and beneath all of that, the simple specific human Chris smell. “What?”

“Let’s, let’s, let’s go inside.” Chris leans over, impulsive and quick. Kauri feels his lips against his hair, warmth making its way down through the wild black curls, before he pulls back again. “Jake texted and, and, and said he’ll talk to, to, to to to Antoni. We, we, we can stay out for a, um, a while. You always, uh, always feel better… dancing.”

Well… he isn’t wrong.

“I guess you know me pretty well,” Kauri says, shifting back, rubbing at his eyes to get the last of the tears out, glancing at himself in the rearview mirror. In the dark, his eyes being reddened won’t be so obvious. He tries on his best, most glittering aren’t I the most gorgeous fucking thing and so humble too smile. Still looks good.

He always looks his best when he’s ready to shatter, after all.

Nobody looks as good getting torn apart as you do, Kaur-Bore. 

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. Banishes Owen’s voice from his mind. “Okay. Let’s do this.” He steps out of the car, and Chris gets out on the other side. They pause, for a second, looking at the blue door. The light above it. An unobtrusive rainbow sticker pressed against the brick beside it. 

“Three, um, three drinks,” Chris reminds him, leaning sideways to bump his shoulder into Kauri’s. “And one, um, pill or… snort? Or whatever?”

“I don’t snort,” Kauri says wryly. “Anymore.”

“You, you, you weren’t doing pills either, though?”

“... Fair point. You win. Fine. One pill or snort or whatever. Three drinks. That is all. And I’ll eat some dinner first so it doesn’t hit me so hard.”

“Then, then, then we’ll… figure it out. Yeah?” His head leans on Kauri’s shoulder, lavender hair halfway up his nose when he turns and has to sneeze and then they both laugh. For a second Kauri thinks maybe he doesn’t need the pill, anyway.

But it’d be rude, if Westin drives all the way out here…

“... Yeah,” Kauri says, softly. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out.”

The blue door opens, and Kauri winces when he hears what’s playing inside. Tell all the English boys you meet, about the American boy back in the States - the American boy you used to date, who would do anything you say…

“Shit. Forgot that it’s Wednesday.”

“Um. Why?”

“Wednesday is a slow night. They let the guy who manages the bar control the music, and he’s… well. He plays shit like this.”

If you say you ever missed me then don’t say you never lied-

I’m without you-

“It’s, it’s, it’s not bad, though?” Chris follows him as Kauri heads for the door. Inside, there’s not exactly a crush of bodies, but there’s a good few dozen men of varying ages, trending older than they do on Fridays and Saturdays. Chris is one of the youngest guys here.

“Oh, it’s not that bad now,” Kauri says, winding his way towards the bar, Chris’s hand in his. A few people still remember Kauri and waves or call out, and he waves back. Lots of Kauri! Haven’t seen you! How’ve you been! You good, man? Oh hey, you’re here! He doesn’t stop to flirt. “Just wait, though. Just wait until he gets super drunk later and starts playing Taking Back Sunday.”

“Starts, um, starts playing… is, is, is that… church music?”

“Oh my God. I love you so much, you sweet tiny baby child.” Kauri throws his head back with real, genuine, open laughter for the first time all night. He orders something candy-colored for himself, plus a burger and fries. Chris gets a vodka and soda and cheese fries. 

Chris looks baffled, but Kauri can’t stop laughing, and when he pulls Chris close for a hug, the younger man never hesitates. 

Kauri holds him tight, and thinks to himself that even if Antoni never wants to look at him again, he can survive the loss. This time, there’s someone who will hold him while he figures out what to do next. Someone who will stand next to him and listen as the music changes. The crowd, such as it is, takes it as a sign to go order more drinks. Just a few couples stay dancing.

Oh, you're silent but strong Yeah, I'm playing that card And you're noticing nothing again

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said Keep that in mind, the way that it felt When the most I could do was to just blame myself

Kauri laughs again. He can’t stop, until his laughter is nearly a sob itself. His cheeks are wet, when did that happen? His knees nearly give out with the hilarity and the hurt swelling inside of him. “Oh my God. It’s goddamn Taking Back Sunday. Dan’s drunk and sad early tonight. Join the fucking club, I guess."

Well, I know you know everything I know you didn't mean it I know you didn't mean it Kauri hums along for a while. "Wow, this music is way better when you fucking hate yourself.”

“What?”

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said It will all catch up eventually

Kauri shakes his head. “Never mind. Just… don’t let go. Don’t let go, Chris, please.”

Well, it caught up and honestly The weight of my decisions were impossible to hold But they were never yours

“I won’t.”

They were never yours

They rock to no beat in particular and nobody’s hands wander, no one whispers filthy things in anyone else’s ear. He doesn’t even want the drink that bad when it comes.

He will, in a minute.

But right now, it can sit on the bar sweating condensation while they move, side to side. 

Stop everything Start it all over Remember more than you'd like to forget

Kauri is crying, but his head is buried against Chris’s neck, and Chris only tightens his arms. Kauri is drowning, his head dips below the water.

Chris’s arms are strong, though.

When Kauri gasps for air, he finds it. 

If Antoni can’t forgive him, he’ll keep going. Kauri always keeps going. He’s always going to be fine, in the end, because he’s never had a choice. And if Jake hates him too and he has to be fine alone, well, he can do that. 

Although Chris makes him think maybe he won’t have to.

Drop everything Start it all over...

----

As always, @autophagay, this is for you

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

ALRIGHT JUICY JURY UPDATE!

It is cut because this is a very mentally aaaaa update

Warnings: blood, torn clothes, mental breakdown, implied abuse, on screen bone snapping (three does this to himself so BE WARNED), half nudity? (Does mostly burnt clothes count?

Anyway, everyone takes care of yourself, I am very mentally exhausted and emotionally about making this one because it hits myself hard (I have way too much care for these characters I swear to you)

Too long didn't read: warnings and a shortened version of the update, Eugene discovers evidence about Three's disappearance and second life and has a mental break down

Owww owiee ow

@angelpuns @friskebits

The siblings OWIE OW

Also the little ball things are trackers

[thelunarsystemwrites]

LusterrorTale

A horrortale x underlust AU!

(Lore below cut! TW for talk of: suicide, death, sex, sexual violence, starvation, depression, addiction!)

So the idea of LusterrorTale, is after a neutral run from Frisk—Toriel and Asgire are dead, as they killed both. So Undyne immediately became queen.

So... things play out, magic in the underground starts dying. They're trying to fix to core, food starts running low as magic does-

Dead. Alphys, who was keeping the core alive... killed herself. So the core kinda just.. breaks, with only Sans knowing how to fix it.

This sent Undyne into a deep depression with her lover dead. In a fit of rage, she blamed Sans for it and you know.. shattered his skull. (She blamed him because he was helping Alphys with the core, so she believes Sans should've seen the signs.)

Now, with the core dead and magic at an all time low—In this au, there's one natural way of making magic with two monsters—Which is uh, doing the deed. It causes magic to build up.

Sooooo basically all the monsters, since they're starving for magic, all kinda go sex crazy. They become addicted to it, since they're desperate for the magic that becomes like a high.

In this AU, it focuses more on sexual violence, depression, starvation—It's a blend of Horrortale and Underlust in the fact that it combines starvation with desire. The design for Sans here was originally intended for an AU I was making with a friend, but we changed it. So I decided to give this guy his own AU!

So yeah, SA is unfortunately, very common in the underground. So is Monsters offing themselves, it's INCREDIBLY depressing. The idea is the underground has reached its lowest, where everyone is scrapping for a bit more.

...Oh yeah, the human who falls is a therapist-

HorrorTale by sour-apple studios!

Underlust by NSFWshamecave!

LusterrorTale by me!

[just-a-soft-kid]

“It’s okay. Everyone hurts me. It’s my fault.”

Back to making fanart for my friend @floofanflurr's beloved fic, Heart on the Table!! This one is from chapter 16.

This is my first time trying to create digital art that has a more traditional art feel. I think I might be finding something that feels really good for my style! :D

ALSO - for this drawing, I looked up the sign for "hurt." I especially referenced this video! However I haven't learned sign language myself yet - if anyone has a correction, please do feel free to tell me!! I want to make sure I communicate it properly!! <3

[hauntedselves]

"In Trauma and Recovery, Herman expresses the additional concern that patients with CPTSD frequently risk being misunderstood as inherently 'dependent', 'masochistic', or 'self-defeating' [personality disorders], comparing this attitude to the historical misdiagnosis of female hysteria."

~ Wikipedia's CPTSD article

~ Judith Herman, Trauma and Recovery (2015), pp. 116-118.

Thank you to @/avoydant, who transcribed these images. The transcriptions have been added to the alt text.

[bonnibellexox]

Critisism

Dont ever let anyone tell you I can’t take critisism. Just got told very politely that I “already failed this story,” a story about a man experiencing domestic abuse and r*** that I’ve been crafting for a year. Honestly, I’m usually more hurt by rejection, so thats good i guess. Gotta get a thick skin about these things or you end up calling all your fans slurs when they say theres a typo.

Eh, i know what this story is and where its flaws lie, but i also know how people feel when their fav character is put in uncomfortable situations and makes bad decisions. Not to mention a few tabboos I chose to poke and prod.

On the bright side, no one hates like this unless they liked the story at least a little bit. They have nothing to say to allll the stories where Jaune is using his seduction semblance to impregnated his whole class, or the many many different ways people have written him comparing Ruby’s tits to her sisters like she’s a consolation prize. Nup, nothin.

Guess I’m becoming a little controversial. Fun~

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Whumptober Day 8: Panic attacks and Disassociation.

Bench Trio Royalty AU. Tommy refuses to play along with the big happy family facade, and due to the conditioning his adoptive “father” put him through, panics until he's disassociated entirely. Warnings for kidnapping, abuse and torture that have gone on since a very young age, infantilisation, dehumanisation, neglect, xenophobia (in a medieval everyone hates the country right next to them way), self-victim blaming, mutilation, self hatred, forced family dynamics, conditioning, panic attacks, and disassociation.

ao3 link

—— Tommy’s life felt like a mess of conflicting ties, pulling him in each and every direction until he was split into two.

First off, he knew he wasn’t an Enderia native. That much was evident with a look- he was short, covered in flesh instead of carapace, and strangely coloured in comparison to the enderians he grew up around, lacking a tail for balance and instead having awkward-ass wings that bumped into everything. Father usually kept them bound behind his back for convenience since he wasn’t allowed outside anyway, and he had no fucking clue how to fly, but that meant they ached and pointed in weird directions and had areas where his soft, downy feathers were rubbed raw, revealing scarred and bony flesh. He was an abomination amongst his peers, and it was no wonder only Father and Ranboo liked him.

Yet, he held no attachments to the place he was born in. The few memories he had of the Empire were vague and fleeting- being held by a dark-haired man, a tall, pink-haired man teaching him to fight, and the fuzzy appearance of his birth father- and he held little feeling towards them except a vague longing that maybe he would have been allowed to grow up if Father hadn’t taken him in.

Even in the small circle of people who actually talked to Tommy, his allegiance felt pulled between Father and Ranboo. And Tubbo, he supposed, but while the Mercis prince was new enough Tommy hadn’t quite gotten a feel for him yet, he got the feeling that he and Ranboo were at least tentatively on the same side, even if their marriage was arranged.

He supposed it was safe for the two of them to hate Father, but it never was for Tommy.

Ranboo was the heir, and it’s not exactly like Tommy could inherit, being a glorified hostage, so him living was non-negotiable, though Tommy got the feeling Father would have killed Ranboo to replace him with Tommy if he had the opportunity. Tommy was the target of Father’s abuse and kindness alike- yet he rarely so much as looked at his own flesh and blood. And Tubbo dying would start a war with the beastmen, and as fucking off his rocker Father was, he wouldn’t risk that unless he knew he could win.

But Tommy? As long as he could appear in the diplomatic meetings to be shown off to the people he supposed were once his family, the unspoken implication any aggression of the Empire onto Enderian territory would result in his suffering, Father could do anything to him. He’d showed up to some of them with concussions and broken arms. And he knew he wasn’t meant to know this, but he’d seen the experiments Father kept in the dungeon. Death, it seemed, was not as permanent as he once believed.

Such a thing was an offence to Lady Prime in all ways, but so was kidnapping a five-year-old and treating them like a punching bag their whole life, so it wasn’t really a surprise Father wasn’t as devout as he pretended to be. Just disappointing. Father had been the one to introduce Her to him, and praying together, despite Father’s oddities, was one of the few times in Tommy’s life he felt free because it was forbidden to use what was said in prayer against another faithful. Now, he spoke carefully to avoid Father’s endless wrath or, even worse, his pride.

Not that he hated Father, of course. On a good day, Father was downright doting, even if he refused to let Tommy act like a grown-up. Ranboo was his age and getting married, for Prime's sake! He wasn’t the little kid everyone treated him like, talking down to him and not letting him do shit or go outside or so much as choose his own fucking clothes. But Father at least listened to him, unlike the servants. Father refused to let him learn Enderian, and while of course royalty knew the Empire’s tongue, to any common servant, he was as unintelligible as the toddler he was treated like.

It’s just… Ranboo and Tubbo treated him like an equal, not a pet. They weren’t as kind as Father ever was, but that meant they weren’t condescending. And they’d never hit him- not once. That he didn’t understand- when the soldiers took him away, they hit him a lot, and he never could really walk without a limp after that day. Father never hit him that much all at once, but he’d done worse over the years, sometimes just because he was curious to see how non-enderians cry. Even the maids pulled on his hair and dragged him hard enough to leave bruises when he got in the way, because Father had told them he needed discipline. He simply deserved it, for being obnoxious. Ranboo and Tubbo were just fucking saints or something.

Tommy sighed, flopping onto his bed, far too big for him and done up in hideously bright greens. He knew it was Dream’s trademark, but he could be less obnoxious about it, right?

Wait. Wait. Wait. Nononono.

Father. Father’s trademark, Father Father Father.

He wasn’t allowed to call Father by his name. That was wrong, that was bad. Bad bad bad bad. It wasn’t proper; it was Tommy pretending he was older than he was; it was Tommy defying the family; it was proof he was just a stupid evil horrible spy, who only cared about the family he never knew and not the ones who raised him. Else, why would he be defiant? Else, why wouldn’t he adore his role as the eternal innocent?

Phantom knives clawed up Tommy’s skin, branding him a liar, a monster. Carved emblems of his owner, the man he refused to call a father. Shouting in a language he didn’t understand. He was eight years old again, and everything hurt. Everything hurt. It was his fault.

The air felt like it was made of lead, suffocating Tommy as he curled up as tight as he could. Tears pricked at his eyes, feeling like a hot knife as they made their way down his cheeks. His heart felt like it was beating at a million miles a minute, like it’d explode out of his chest. Was he dying? It felt like he was dying.

The cells, filled with corpses not allowed to rest, in the dungeons under the castle forced their way into Tommy’s mind. If he died, he’d become one of them, because no fucking way Father would let him die. He was awful, too awful to let him rest far too loving to let his adoptive child go, ever. Ever ever ever.

He could feel everything as his wounds were stitched shut, the medicine keeping him still but not unconscious. The next day, he’d say something wrong again, and they’d be opened up. They scarred over badly, ugly raised marks across his upper arms and back, circling his wings. He was part of the family, whether he wanted to be or not. The eternal little brother. Father told him as much.

Tommy tugged at his hair, pulling out chunks, and that only made him feel worse. So, so much worse. It felt like when Father would drag him by his hair when he got into places he shouldn’t. It’s not like he was ever told why. Sometimes, he thought Father made excuses, like how he made excuses to give him extravagant gifts. It felt like he was breathing hot coals, like he could feel them on his skin.

Burying his head in the blankets, he sobbed and sobbed, until he couldn’t remember why he was sobbing. The pain running through his mind and body overwhelmed him, and his mind blurred over. There was no Tommy, and there was no mistake, and there was no feeling. He cried, but he could no longer feel a thing, just numbness in his chest.

It didn’t matter what happened while he felt like this. He simply felt too tired to even care.

He let his body relax as he stared at the wall. His head was completely empty, all thoughts gone, except for the vague idea that it was so silly to get so upset over everything.

After all, he just needed to listen to Father, and everything would be okay, right?

[its-queenofthesilence]

I Cannot Live Without My Soul! Part 6 of ?

Notes:

Have some AndrAIa lore dump that while be relevant in this story but also not because I may or may not have planned a sequel. Or 5.... Also Megabyte being a grump, lmao.

PLEASE NOTE: Going forward, this is going to be edited in a way to remove stuff that violates the TOS. Nothing super graphic just smut basically. I know we have mature filters but I am not sure how Tumblr feels about smut so. Things removed will be replaced with blackouts or redacted, if you would like to read the uncensored version, please see the FF.net or A03 (Recommended) link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57835603/chapters/147208144

Chapter 6: You Cannot Fix What Is Not Wrong

Enzo Raphael Matrix(1) was bored. He had been scared initially when he had been throw into the holding cells, worried for his friends and family. But you could only be scared for so long before it gave way to other feelings. Anger, resentment, acceptance. Now he was just bored.

It had been a cycle, and he had nothing to do but bother the troops guarding his cell for attention, much to their annoyance. Feet against the wall, laying upside down on the bed with his head hanging off, he was whining as he repeatedly tapped his foot against the wall.

“Will you stop that!”

It was more of a request than a demand from the binome with a mustache that he can’t remember is called Chancy or Custard. He thinks it’s Custard.

“I’m Bored.” he said simply, refusing to stop tapping the wall.

‘Custard’ let out an scream, his sanity slowly whittled into nothingness every moment he was left in charge of this kid. "You're our prisoner, not our guest. You don't exactly get to be entertained."

Enzo (1) rolled his eyes, the tapping increasing in speed. "Come on Custard, can't you at least let me out for a bit? I promise I won't try to escape or anything."

Chancy let out another small scream, barely contained behind clenched teeth. Or what equated as teeth for a binome."For the last time, it's Chancy! And absolutely not, I'm not letting you out of that cell. You're a prisoner, how many times do I need to tell you?!”

Enzo (1) let out an exaggerated sigh, finally relenting on the incessant tapping. "But I’m boreeeed.” he repeated, whining.

Chancy shot Enzo (1) an exasperated look. "Well, you're just going to have to deal with it. You're lucky we're keeping you alive at all."

Enzo (1) crossed his arms, pouting petulantly. "This is so unfair. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You're associated with the Guardian and those other troublemakers," Chancy retorted. "That's reason enough as far as Lord Megabyte is concerned."

The copy opened his mouth to argue further, but was cut off by the sound of the door to the holding cells sliding open. Both he and Chancy turned to see another Binome stride in. A bit portly around the middle with a fading hairline, the other man seemed tired.

“Captain! Please tell me you have new orders. Anything but guard duty.” ‘Custard’ begged.

“‘Fraid not, Lord Megabyte still hasn’t ordered any attacks yet.”

“Still? It’s been a cycle since he took over the Principal’s Office and still no plan for wiping the rebels out?”

“No, I heard from some others that he’s been having Herr Doktor run tests on him; something wrong with his code apparently.”

“What about Megabreath?” Chancy breathed in once, then exhaled slowly. He knew he had been given strict orders not to kill the kid but that was becoming harder by the second.

“Nothing that concerns you kid! I swear to the User, I am going to delete you.” he growled, walking right up to the energy field separating them. Enzo (1) just started tapping the wall again with his foot causing the man to scream.

“Lieutenant, what’s the issue? The Lord told us to leave them alive.” The captain said, irritated. If there was one person not cut out to be a Neo-Viral, it was Chancy. The man had no sense of keeping cool and collected. Yet Megabyte kept him around for some reason.

“He’s being annoying!” the man gritted out to his superior.

“So take a walk solider, they’re not going anywhere. Honestly, use your head!”

The pair walked off, leaving Enzo alone with his thoughts. If he was big and smart like his bigself, he would try to break out. But he was just a small sprite with nothing to help him escape. Sighing, he sat up on the bed and turned to look over at Phong.

Megabyte had either been kind enough, or didn’t care enough to put both sprites in a shared cell. It made him feel a bit better. Phong however had been quiet the last few days. Medics had been in to stabilize him and make sure he didn’t just delete program (Megabyte needed him alive, other wise he wouldn’t have bothered) but the elderly sprite seemed lost in thought almost.

"Phong?" Enzo called out hesitantly. "Are you ok?"

The sprite in question slowly lifted his head, his wise eyes meeting Enzo's. "I am as well as can be expected, my child," he replied wearily.

"Do you think the others will come for us?" Enzo asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I am certain they are doing all they can to mount a rescue. But Megabyte has the entire Principal Office locked down. I fear it may not be so simple."

“Is that why you are so quiet? ‘Cause you’re scared of what’s going to happen?”

“I will admit, I am afraid but no young sprite. I apologize, I have been thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

Phong paused. He didn’t know how to tell it to such a young sprite, or if he should at all. There were just somethings that Enzo shouldn’t know about yet.

He’s worried for the others yes, but he’s more worried about Dot and extension AndrAIa. He thinks back to the Wedding, what would have happened if Bob had not shown up. The Wedding Night.

Despite insistence that he had standards, the old vector sprite couldn’t help but worry that in his pursuit for revenge, the virus intended to harm the pair more than just torture and deletion. He remembers the look on the Viruses face, looking at ‘that’ video file. He had not been able to see the entire video (or the other one really) from where he had laid but he had seen enough to know what the virus was looking at.

If he was capable of torture, mayhem and destruction, why not [REDACTED]?

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I do not wish to worry you, my child. These are simply an old man's concerns. Let us have faith that our friends will find a way to rescue us."

Enzo nodded, though he could see the worry etched on Phong's face. The elderly sprite was always so calm and collected, to see him this unsettled was also unsettling for Enzo.

“Phong?” he asked timidly, pressing his back against the cell wall.

“Yes, my child?”

“What’s a ‘whore?”

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He was enraged, infuriated, rabid, incensed; he could go on. With a snarl, he over turned a gurney that had been shoved into the corner of the Medical Bay, not able to contain his anger.

A cycle of scans and tests, and still no answer to his problem. In the mean time, his plans for vengeance had been put on the back burner as he tried to deal with the increasing need for AndrAIa her that had been building within him. The virus, nor the doctor by extension, had not been able to sleep properly in a week, his body overworked and overtired.

Every thought was now related to the Game Sprite in some way, shape, or form and he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was going to explode.

“I thought I told you to find the problem!”

Herr Doktor who up until now had been trying his best not to nod off from lack asleep, found himself wide awake as he became the target of Megabyte's outburst, quickly backing away from the fuming virus, still holding the .doc file that contained the results of the most recent scan.

"I apologize, mein Herr! I'm trying mein best. If you could tell me vhat I am looking for..."

“I told you! Any changes in my code!” The virus reached down to pick up the doctor by his neck and began to squeeze; not enough to harm him but to state his dissatisfaction.

"A-ah, mein König, Maybe ve should start vith your symptoms rather than lo-looking at your code. It vay be easier." choked the Binome, struggling to breath a bit.

By now, the mad scientist had gotten out of his lord that something had happened when he encountered the Game Sprite in the hallways of the Principal’s Office. Unfortunately, his lord was reluctant or unwilling to provide any more detail than that.

With a snarl, Megabyte dropped the smaller creature, allowing him to quickly scurry backwards and out of grabbing range. The virus puzzled for a moment, debating the idea. Herr Doktor was probably right, starting with symptoms would probably be easier, or at least give them somewhere to start.

"Very well, let's start there then. What would you like to know?" he asked, trying to reign in his temper.

Herr Doktor straightened his rumpled lab coat, clearing his throat nervously. "Vell, for starters, vhat exactly happened vith the Game Sprite? You mentioned something...unusvual occurred between you two."

The virus paused, his clawed fingers tapping against his chin as he considered how much to reveal. "It was...strange," he began slowly. "There was a burst of light that came from her that began flowing into me, causing me- us, to glow. I've never experienced anything like it before."

Herr Doktor's eyes widened, taking a moment to jot something down on his organizer.

“Vhat else Mein Herr?”

Megabyte's brow furrowed as he tried to put into words the strange sensations he had felt. "It was...odd. The light only lasted mere nanoseconds but when it was gone, I felt a surge of emotions that I've never experienced before - a sense of contentment, even happiness.”

He paused, a look of frustration crossing his face. "But it didn't last. As soon as the hacker intervened and she fled, the feeling faded leaving me feeling…I don’t know. Now I just feel...off. Unbalanced, in a way I can't quite describe."

Herr Doktor nodded thoughtfully, jotting down more notes. "Interesting. And have you noticed any other changes? Anything physical or in your behavior that is out of the ordinary?"

Megabyte frowned, thinking back to the previous cycle. "I've found myself...distracted, in a way I'm not accustomed to. My concentration has been poor, and I find my thoughts constantly returning to AndrAIa." He let out a frustrated growl. "It's maddening. I can't seem to focus on anything else."

A look passed over the Doctor’s face, one that Megabyte couldn’t place. It was a look that was part confusion, that he understood, but also part something else, like the doctor knew something he didn’t.

“What?” he barked, the need for answers overwhelming.

“What do you feel when you think about her?”

“What? What does that that have to do with anything? I already told you, content. What more do you want?”

Herr Doktor shifted uncomfortably under Megabyte's piercing gaze, but pressed on. "Mein Herr, humvor me. In detail.”

“Fine! Happy, warmth, like I am able to infect the entire net at once, like I am going mad because I cannot bare the thought of her not being near!”

Herr Doktor's eyes widened as Megabyte rambled off his symptoms in increasing frustration. He hesitated for a moment, pondering how to broach this delicate topic.

"Mein Herr, I believe...I believe what you are experiencing may be a form of..."

He paused, trying to find the right words. "Infatuation. Perhaps even...love."

There was silence, and then, a deep guttural laugh that sent chills down the Doktor’s spine. He knew his lord enough to know what kind of laugh this was. This was not an amused laugh like when someone said something he thought was funny (usually revolving around Dot Matrix) or one done out of politeness. This was a laugh that meant someone had done or said something so stupid, that it infuriated the lord to no ends.

Megabyte's laughter rang out, dripping with derision and contempt. "What did you say?” he hissed. The claws, while now always out do to his new form, seemed to extend further as fury overcame his face.

Herr Doktor swallowed nervously, realizing he may have made a mistake. "M-mein Herr, I’m not saying that’s w—what it is! I was just speculating!”

The virus didn’t bother to grab the doctor again, instead choosing to tower over him before leaning down and getting inches away from his face.

"You dare to suggest that I, the great Megabyte, am capable of something as pathetic and weak as love?!"

Herr Doktor cowered under Megabyte's furious glare, his metal frame shaking with fear. "N-no, my lord! Of course not! Please, forgive me for overstepping!"

Snarling, Megabyte grabbed the doktor once more and threw him into the wall, causing the smaller man to scream in pain and terror.

With a roar the virus began to destroy anything he could get his hands on. Megabyte was in a full blown rage, destroying everything in sight. Overturned medical carts, glass vials, the wiring in the walls - nothing was safe from his fury.

The doctor cowered against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible as Megabyte's rampage continued. He knew better than to try and intervene - the virus was far too volatile in this state. All he could do was wait and pray that the outburst would pass quickly, and without him being a target.

After what felt like an eternity, Megabyte finally seemed to run out of steam, coming to a stop and panting heavily. Silence filled the air, one man too afraid to speak and the other lost in thoughts.

“Herr Doktor?”

“…Yes, m-mein herr?”

“I won’t delete you today, but don’t you ever suggest something so stupid again because I can promise you I will make your deletion a painful one. Understood?” The virus never looks at him, eyes fixated on an invisible target only he can see.

'“J-Ja.”

“Good. Now have the men prepare my limousine, it’s time I had a chat with the Game Sprite.”

Breathe in,

Breath Out,

Smile brightly, nod politely.

Don’t think about him it.

Everything is okay.

I mean, who cared if she had barely slept in a week, was avoiding her friends at any chance she got and was struggling to not to spiral into a episode self-hatred and depression?

As she walked the halls of the base, she gave small waves and hellos to the people working, trying to not notice the way they stared at her.

Like they had always stared.

“..Freak…”

“..not trustworthy..”

“..dangero-”

She can hear them all speaking about her. It’s nothing new. She has always been an outsider in this place. But now since the incident in the Med-Bay and rumors getting out about what happened in the P.O. (Thanks to Mike the TV who had been ever so kind to listen in on her and her friends and then spread the information like wildfire.) it had been worse than usual.

She hadn’t felt this isolated than ever; not even when she was in actual isolation. She stops and hisses, pushing the thought away. She wasn’t going to think of that place, it was behind her.

She shakes her head and continues forward, moving throughout the halls of the base and into the main chamber where her friends were gathered around a table. She can practically taste the tension in the air. She tries to hide her tiredness (And the thoughts of teeth on her neck) but finds it hard.

Everyone was confused about why Megabyte had not attacked yet and subsequently, was on guard. He had been radio silent the last cycle and aside from the ABCs protecting the Principal’s Office, there was no indication that he was even in Mainframe. He had made no appearances, no speeches, nothing.

Someone speculated that maybe he had escaped to the Supercomputer to infect it but Bob pointed out a portal of any kind required internet access and the wifi tower was still down(confirmed by Glitch who still couldn’t get a signal out of the system.)

So that left them on edge. In the mean time, they were trying to best come up with a plan to get back into the P.O. They likely couldn’t get back in through the Core, Megabyte had likely figured out that’s how they escaped and had men guarding the entrance. Besides, Phong was old and injured last time anyone saw him and Enzo was young; they were more likely than anyone to succumb quickly to the Core.

The group is chatting tersely, trying to pinpoint a plan when she approaches the table. There is a schematic of the P.O laid out, with various notes and items circled on it. She can see the flicker of worry in Bob’s eyes as he takes stalk of her.

“Did you sleep?” he asks silently. Her pursed lips in response tell him that no, she hadn’t.

(Razor sharp claws running over her skin.)

“Where were you?” Enzo is on edge more than any of them and quick to instigate a fight in order to release the pent up anger building up inside of him. It’s tiring but she’s used to it.

“Just out for a walk.” she lies, the smile threatening to fall. Each day it’s becoming harder to pretend around him.

“That must be nice. We’ve been here actually working!”

AndrAIa's smile faltered at Matrix's sharp tone. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. Conceal, don’t feel.

"I know you're all working hard, Sparky. I just needed some time to myself, that's all." To sleep; or at least she tried to until the thoughts became too much.

(A deep, baritone voice purring into her ear)

“Yeah well that’s all you seem to have time for. You’ve been avoiding me for the last cycle.” The renegade says accusatorily, eye flaring briefly as anger seeped out.

“Oh no, User forbid I be too busy and tired to FAQ your ass while in the middle of an active warzone!” She regrets the words as soon as she says them. Why was this happening? She’s supposed to be good at pretending and yet she keeps slipping up, it was never this hard before to lie.

Enzo recoiled briefly, taken aback by AndrAIa's uncharacteristic outburst before the shock turned into that familiar, tiring (so, so tiring), anger she was so used to at this point.

(Touching her between the [REDACTED].)

“You really think that’s what I fucking care about right now?” the Renegade leaned forward, anger spilling out of his voice. “Enzo and Phong are still FAQing at Megabyte’s mercy, and you think I give two shits about the fact that you’re not putting out?”

‘Yes’ But she does not say it. AndrAIa knows that while he is concerned for the others, he’s extra ornery because she’s been uninterested or just not in the mood to lie there and get it over with like she always does in exchanging codes the last cycle. She knows he uses it as a way to cope when stressed; his go to after alcohol and shooting things but she just can’t seemed to get in the mood because his hands were wrong and not the ones she wanted.

“Enough! I swear to the User, none of us need to hear this.” Bob interjects, a look of desperation on his face as he tried to end this very uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t need those images in his head. AndrAIa felt her cheeks flush; momentarily forgetting about the others during the spat. She can see from the corner of her eyes Dot is looking down at the .doc she has open, trying not to look her in the eye, face red with embarrassment. Mouse just seems to be amused.

Matrix's grunted, turning away as he backed down reluctantly. A mix of frustration and hurt on his face. "Whatever," he muttered, turning his attention back to the map on the table. AndrAIa breathes deep, pushing it all back and a calm smile comes over her face.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, her voice carefully level. She knows there will be hell to pay later, behind closed doors but she cannot focus on that now . "How are we getting Enzo and Phong back?"

Bob cleared his throat, exchanging a wary glance with Dot before speaking. "Well, we've been going over the schematics, trying to find any weak points in Megabyte's defenses. Unfortunately, he's really bolstered security throughout the entire building."

He pauses, tapping his fingers on the table as he thinks. "There are still a few service tunnels and access points that may be lightly guarded, but getting in undetected is going to be a challenge. And once we're in, we'll have to deal with getting Enzo and Phong out without triggering Megabyte's full wrath."

Matrix leaned forward, his cybernetic eye whirring as he analyzed the map. "We'll need a distraction - something to draw Megabyte's forces away from the holding cells so we can get in and get them out."

“We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do about Dad, or the rest of their people on the inside.” said Dot. That was another issue they weren’t sure how to deal with. Enzo might be safe because he was a child, and he needed Phong, but what about the rest of the team that had been in the War Room? They were either infected or deleted at this point; Megabyte would not show them the same courtesy.Then again, he might not care enough about a group of Binomes and chose to allow them to leave (after all, if you kill all your future subjects, who will you have left when it comes time to take over?) And Welman had the advantage of being a null; he could not be deleted, no matter how much Megabyte tried. He could feel pain of course, but that was different.

It was a conundrum. Obviously, to them Enzo and Phong were a priority, but to the families of the Binomes inside the P.O, waiting on news of their loved ones safety, they did not feel the same.

"Well, we don’t know if anyone else is still alive Sis. We should focus on just getting in before finding survivors. We could lead a frontal assault on the P.O.," Matrix offered, cracking his knuckles. "That would definitely draw Megabyte's attention." Everyone knew that he wanted a rematch with Megabyte more than anything; partially for what had been done to Dot but also for pride reasons; to put the virus in his place once and for all.

“Sugah, I’m sure after last time we came in swinging through the front door, he ain’t gonna let us stroll back in without a blood bath.” said Mouse.

Dot shook her head, a frown on her face. "I agree, it’s going to be more difficult this time if we attempt it and it’s too risky. We can't just charge in guns blazing. We need to be strategic about this."

By this point, AndrAIa had started to zone out, exhaustion creeping in. She was too tired to think straight, the call for sleep overwhelming. She leaned against the table, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. She..she just needed to rest for a moment.

AndrAIa's eyes slid shut as she leaned against the table, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. The others continued discussing their plans, their voices fading to a dull hum in the background as she allowed herself a moment of respite. And then, she’s pulled under.

She’s huddled in the corner of the cell, a book tightly held to her chest as she tries to protect it to no avail from the hands that rip it away. It’s a good book, she’s read it over and over since she got it. It’s a bit torn from constant use but in this place, it was all she had. A hope, a dream, that when she is an adult she will find it and be free.

“Where did you get this? ” a figure says, shrouded in shadow. The voice is familiar but an unwelcome familiarity and is feminine in nature. Each word drips with malice that AndrAIa knows is because she’s done something wrong.

She doesn’t tell her about the guard who had felt sorry for her and slipped it past the bars in the middle of the night. He was the only kind person in this place.

“I…I found it?” she offers weakly knowing, that it’s a terrible lie. Though the figure is shrouded, she knows that the woman is staring at her with hatred and malcontent.

“Lies!” The 0.8 year old screams, flinching as a hand strikes her cheek, the pain already forming into a bruise. Why did she have to always make her mad? She was trying to be good, she really was.

“You don’t get to have presents. Don’t forget, they’re dead because of you. You’re an abomination who deserves to be punished….Looks like I'll have to find new guards, such a shame. Cleaning up the blood will be such a bother.”

The woman pauses, noting the title of the book and then lets out a dark laugh.

“Oh, you poor, stupid thing. Just a child; Not even remotely of age and yet you think that the Goddess will bestow such a blessing on you one day? After what you’ve done? Foolish child.”

“But-”

“No excuses. Remember your purpose for being here. You are dangerous, and even if you were to find someone in adulthood, would it truly be fair to them? Do you want to subject them to the pain and suffering of being bound to a monster like you?”

“I a-am not a mOnStER!” she wails, curling in on herself.

“Yes, you are.”

“No!”

AndrAIa's eyes snap open, her entire body going rigid as the memory resurfaces. Fear and adrenaline lick through her; why now? On top of everything else going on, why was she thinking about that? She doesn’t want to remember. But then it hits her, the truth. Why IT had happened.

“DrAIa?”

She knows someone is calling out for her (she doesn’t know who, everything sounds staticky as she panics), hands reaching to touch her but it’s too much. The memory is burning into her, sending her into spiral that she hasn’t experienced since she escaped. “I need to get out of here“ is the only thing on her mind.

She bolts, pushing past figures left and right, blood pounding in her ears. Everything in her code says to run and to not stop; so that’s what she does. She doesn’t get far before something pommels her to the ground. Someone large and strong, pressing her against the floor, their hands pining her own.

She snarls and thrashes, unwilling to be contained. Other hands reach to touch her and it’s too much. In a quick motion, she detaches one of her arm fins out of reflex, causing it to go flying and it must hit someone because she hears a scream and then hands reactively releasing her. She is blind with panic and cannot think so when yet another hand grabs her hand, she turns and racks her nails across…a face? Yes, a face but she doesn’t know whose. The hand relents and she pushes further.

This time, nothing stops her and she runs and runs, and runs, flying past sprites and binomes alike, out of the base and into the streets of Mainframe, hair whipping in the wind, lungs burning with need to breath but she can’t breath, she can’t.

She’s always known she was a monster, so it suddenly makes sense why this happened.

This was her punishment; her penance for what she had done. There was no other answer. A monster for a monster.

She runs until she cannot breath anymore, falling over from exhaustion. Is she crying? She can’t tell anymore. She hears a thud but pays it no mind. Hands grab her once more and she thrashes, but unlike last time they do not let go; instead they wrap around her and pull her close. They feel familiar and wrong but so right. She relents, pushing her face against a chest that is metal and rough, marked by degradation and she breaks down for the first time in a long time and sobs. She sobs until she cannot feel anymore.

Next | Previous | Beginning

[mad-hunts]

19.     entry made talking about a simple    /   normal day.

'dear diary' prompts...

[TRANSCRIPTION: so, i'd like to start this off by saying that i sometimes crave a sense of normalcy more than ever in my life... though i know that people might not expect something like that out of me. you know, because i seem so devoted to my work, i guess. but i have to say that after getting a taste of it today, it's probably when i'm at my happiest. me and jack had spent the day together, which is something we actually rarely get to do. he had told me about this crepe place that had opened up a little while ago and he seemed really eager to go there. so i invited jack to do that this morning and i swear, i hadn't seen him smile that big in a while. which did something funny to my heart.

and by that, i mean you know that feeling you get when you can't contain the love you have for someone? yeah that was pretty much what ended up happening to me; a fuzziness had hit me in the chest. but after we went there, and jack ate an impressive amount of crepes (he was really fond of the nutella and strawberry ones), my son suggested that we see this new movie that came out recently. and it was hard to pass up so of course i said yes. we snuck in some candy and drinks because, honestly, who wants to pay for the overpriced candy they have? not us so we did that and just like i expected... the theater was pretty packed since it was for the new hunger games movie. it was good though!

anyhow, after that, jack wanted to spend some time just hanging out by the water when he did something that surprised me. jack hugged me. and it was really nice, because i can't remember the last time my son gave me one like that. he went on to tell me that he missed 'this part of me.' this got me to thinking that, yeah, i have been treating him not so well for a while. so maybe i ought to change that. jack deserves to have a father who doesn't switch up on him every day, from being mean to being nice.

maybe i'll call my therapist back and tell her i want to start seeing her again. she might've said some things that i didn't like the last time, one of those being that i exhibit behaviors that are typical of sociopaths — but i guess i can make an exception for jack, because he's my little bug.

signed, barton. ]

[shiroi---kumo]

Morality Meme || Accepting

@ l/ady-quen asked:

Something he hasn't been asked before (as much): 💋: How easily is he tempted? (Absolutely does not have to be in *that* context. Think material gain, favors, etc)

Buckle up, this is gunna be long and a RIDE.

The trick is when it comes to Kumo on the topic of "tempted" (and not that as you said) is there are two sides to this ->

The idea of tempting or the idea of giving into temptation.

Considering the original question doesn't specify which side we're going to, we're going to go with temptations.

And there are a lot of them and if you want to view things like candy, sugar, indulgences, etc - Kumo gives in often and easily.

The thing about it is though, is, that it's entirely riding on an outsider's perspective of Kumo's actions and if someone like, say Kaze, were to just let Kumo be and react to situations for a week however he so pleases and then judged him on how he reacted over that week -> through an outsider's lens it would appear that Kumo caves to temptations at nearly every turn.

But we're not going from an outsider's perspective. We're going from Kumo's perspective and that is an entirely different situation. This is also why the boys clash so often because the outsider's perspective simply doesn't know / understand why Kumo is doing what he's doing.

In Kumo's mind, he almost never caves to temptations and when you look at the world from his eyes - he's right.

It's taken over two years - real time - for Kumo to dance in front of Kaze (dance in general) totally carefree and to just move, DESPITE the fact, his body tingles and his skin prickles whenever he hears the sound of any form of tune. Kumo hears sound with his entire body but he hasn't combusted yet with his overwhelming full body urge to just move. And when he wanted to sing, he removed himself from what he assumed was Kaze's earshot because he did not want to nor did he feel comfortable doing so in front of the man. He made himself smaller instead of just caving to the urge and singing regardless of whether or not anyone could hear him.

He resists the urge to just flip himself upside down more often than not because he knows it annoys his Other to no end when he does so and he hasn't taken to the sky to just go exist inside a cloud for thirty minutes because of a previous threat to shoot him down if he flew ahead.

Kumo needs to be in the air to breathe properly but yet he has remained mostly grounded due to his extreme fear of angering Kaze. And I do mean extreme.

In Kumo's mind, he doesn't act outside of the boundaries that have been set for him, to the point of even denying his own needs to an extent, if only to keep the peace.

An Outsider's perspective would lead them to tell you that Kumo is a spoiled child that gets whatever he wants, whines and cries to achieve that and lives of sugar and candy that sleeps all the time.

Kumo's perspective would tell you, he is a terrified abuse survivor who is slowly dying due to a curse that is killing him little bits at a time so he sleeps as much as possible because he's running out of energy, who only eats what sugar they can afford and deemed acceptable despite needing it to literally function, drinks half the water he needs because of lack of storage issues, and only cries when his emotions become too much and he can no longer control them. The emotions only come out when the bottle holding them cracks.

An Outsider's perspective would tell you "Spoiled Royal."

And Kumo would even resist the temptation then to tell that person to go fuck themselves because spoiled is the last thing he's ever been. Those two words rub him raw enough to make him bleed but he won't say that either because causing confrontation is improper and he has an aversion to fighting and yelling so he avoids them at all costs.

How often and easily does Kumo give into temptation? He doesn't.

And I say this for a multitude of reasons but mostly that when Kumo "gives into temptation" for something, he's not giving in at all actually. He's been given permission to do something, so he is acting on that permission.

As a prime example, in Kumo's mind, his relationship to Kaze (not with. TO) functions solely around the sentence "I obey you." Because that is how he feels about that man at its root core. He loves him. He cares about him and one might think that his vision is being deluded by his feelings towards Rorahm, but Kumo told himself to come to terms with the fact that Rorahm was dead many months ago.

He no longer sees Kaze as that man. He sees the essence of Rorahm the person as dead but the name Rorahm remains as simply a name and that is why Pilvi and Seejvariil will still use it. But at the core of it, that's where Kumo's mind sets "I obey you." so he would never dare defy someone like Kaze - someone he holds extreme fear in even if "giving into temptation" is doing something is literally a basic need for his survival.

And he's been like this his entire life so whether Kaze is aware of it or not, Kumo was built with a foundation that tells his mind to obey before all else and that includes giving into any form of temptation that could be for his own benefit. Even at seven, Kumo would ask his teachers "Could we maybe color?" instead of just simply coloring as a seven year old should.

Even as a child, he was asking for permission before he did something and that includes: coloring, singing, dancing, drawing, painting, napping, cuddling, eating his favorite foods or really anything at all.

Kumo doesn't give into temptation because he defaults to permission before all else. Even in a relationship type context, Kumo didn't even haul off and kiss Kain. His brain absolutely thought 'I would like to kiss him' but instead of just doing so - Kumo proceeded to ask Kain "Would it perhaps be acceptable if I kissed you?"

Kumo is obsessed with the concept of consent and he means that by way of his own AND everyone else's. He does not just do things to do them. He will check to make sure he's not inconveniencing anyone by doing something. Even if that thing is a nap. He will tell someone he is going to take a nap before he does so. He will also tell that person they can wake him for any reason if they require him even if sleep for him right now is literally life saving.

Kumo's body has become a shattered broken mess of spreading soul scars because he won't fall to temptations of any kind for any reason. He will not prioritize himself for anything and his childhood had a lot to do with it. His current day issues also are what's causing this because having events like:

the 12 years of torture and abuse of all kinds in Gaudium,

Kaze's use of aggressive force, degrading language and dismissive attitude (using his body to intimidate, putting Orthrus flush to his neck to intimidate, back handing him with Orthrus for breaking eye contact, " you foolish boy"/ "spoiled royal" / "spoiled brat", calling him a liar when kumo said he loved him, telling kumo he needed to throw away his love because he was a sword, and an all around lack of general care or concern for Kumo's well being),

and the recent recapture by Anarchy

has only worked to solidify his belief that he needs to inconvenience those around him as little possible and that his existence and needs are things that can inconvenience others.

He doesn't function for material gain either. Ever. He didn't haul off and just go buy the Makea Meloni. No, he begged Kaze for it. (He asked for permission) Even with his goals to take the throne and become King of Wonderland aren't for material gain. He's literally doing this to heal the pain and turmoil in Wonderland to starve out Chaos - therefore weakening their enemy so they can stand in the face of it without causing so much death and destruction.

He's literally aiming for that seat, not for material gain or power. He's a Misterican Royal - they serve their people, not the other way around - so he's doing it to enlist himself into service of the people of Wonderland and therefore the Universe and he won't just declare himself King, even though the seat is currently empty. He is working to get Wonderland's approval before he does so.

Because at the end of everything, no matter what the situation is - Kumo operations on permission before all else.

[thiccpersonality]

Summary:

It all started with a smile: sharp, dangerous, predatory, lustful and so full of sin...all the warning signs were there in the sharp teeth alone...or they should have been, but Angel Dust-known as Anthony at the time-was always a sucker for danger. He was an addict on earth and nothing really changed in Hell, and if anyone who knew him asked him what one of the most potent drugs of choice for him was...he would be prone to answer that adrenaline and the high it brings is one of the most addicting.

[heulwenflower]

Laugh

Tw:details of abuse and sa,abuse an d sa in general,csa(not detailed),self destructive behaviour,toxic relationships(both platonic and sexual),victim blaming behaviour

!!please read poets note!!:

I don't use flowery language in this one.it doesn't go into deep detail but it does call the acts by its name.its a rant poem I wrote while triggered about a coping mechanisms and my anger.i felt so ashamed for so long that my truama response is anger and humour.im sharing because I'm not the only one and if it makes pepole feel less alone.please skip this poem If you even have a thought it might be triggering

Laugh

Laugh

Laugh

Laugh while they degrade you

Laugh while they put you down

Laugh when they manipulate you

Laugh because you can't communicate anymore

Laugh then cry when you go home

Laugh when you realise you were a glorified side chick

And offal is being treated better than you

Laugh when he grinds on you

Laugh when you get transported to months prior

Laugh while pepole laugh at it happening

Laugh when you realise your best mate is taking photos

Laugh just to get through it until your angel appears

Laugh when days later everyone sees it as a joke

Laugh when you realise everyone there knew what happened to you months prior

Freeze when he grinds up and grabs my boobs

"Maybe don't do that"

Freeze bewildered as your mates do nothing

Realise your clown make up has been broken

No longer the jester

Now worth just as much as the keeper said i was

Why the fuck didn't I Laugh that time

Cry when realising how far dad went

Puke when trying to explain

Laugh when explaining it to your boyfriends best mate

"Its fine"

Because its always got to be fine

Huh there's the laughter

Freeze when you get told its not your fault for the first time

Fuck up your life when you realise no one really cared

Get pissed to be a good boyfriend on his 21st and fuck that up too

Get angry when they act clueless

Cry when they protect those who hurt you

Freeze when you realise you getting exiled like your abuser

Feel the anger when you realise the punishment doesn't match the crime

Plot screaming at them all

Stop

Time stopped

When I realised

How

Many

Pepole

I've

Referenced

In

This

Poem

Self compassion

I acted like a dick

But truama isn't meant to be collected

And I speed ran that collection

When dreaming of 6ft under

You dont realise what's going on 6ft above

You still think 6ft above is where you left it

It's not

It's no excuse etheir

But I can't think what they want me to belive as to why I acted that way

So fuck laughing

I refuse to be your jester toy anymore

And don't you dare find a replacement