#hardcore trauma

[tales-from-syscord]

Got told to put myself in prison and that my partnered system belongs in an asylum because we vented about having to do something morally questionable but legal and consensual to stay alive in a server dedicated to hardcore trauma and CDID.... Like... Sorry that my 'hardcore trauma' is *TOO* hardcore to be in your server ... Told that bc I was obeying the law and making sure all parties involved were okay with the thing we all had to do to .... STAY ALIVE???????????????????? I was just like venting about not wanting to do it????? BECAUSE IT SUCKS TO DO BUT I LITERALLY HAD NO OTHER OPTION

.

[xixovart]

just found out this trio could be a thing you can’t expect me to not draw them

[pepperpixel]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS,

BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY,

IT TAKES TWO TO TOXIC!

FINALLY!!! Finished these pics of jinx I’ve been working on!!!!! HOLY SHIT, these took so long…. But finally… they’re done… pls enjoy this art of my beautiful princess w a disorder. Featuring alternate colors for the big pic and also a closeup! Cuz I rlly like how both the lines and coloring on her face turned out… like the pink gradients w her eye… her deer in headlights expression,, like uve just startled a raccoon digging thru ur trashcan and r two seconds away from getting mauled.. m proud of it!

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[sludgevomit]

You sat in utmost horror as the viscera filled scene flashed across the television. Taking notice of the sinful elegance in Sir’s performance as he cracked open the skull of his fresh snuff bait was simply breathtaking. Your vision fixated on the edited close-up of the deep indentation left by the torque wrench within the temple. Hair matted with gore. Body twitching as nerves die off with the fading life. The bait’s demise, the hidden romance behind Sir’s movements - it aroused you even with all moral aspects of the brain begging you to not give in. Nonetheless, you found yourself listening to the words that took over the next frame. Hypnotized by the orders to bring yourself to an orgasm. Your own fingers giving you the satisfaction you craved as the next kill began.

[daughterofcainandchaos]

metal music is for girls. girls who carry immense amounts of rage within their bodies and minds; building up from their early childhood when they were told to act "like girls" for the first time. girls who were forced to hide their anger deep inside while seeing boys expressing theirs freely on a daily basis. girls who were shamed for feeling emotions deemed "wrong" by the religious systems they were raised in

hardcore music can be a helpful tool to finally release the suppressed energy that's been inside of us for so long. we can sent it out into the world, there's always more than enough space for it

[lapumpkinmusic]

traumas

[utilitycaster]

Wow your Orym tags really are an eye-opener. You are totally right and now I understand the bitterness about this character a little better. I've seen a lot of "...but C3 is supposed to be this and that" takes and I guess a lot of people think they are owed a certain storyline?

Yeah. People feeling as though they're owed a certain storyline is not new nor exclusive to Critical Role; it's been pretty common in fandom for years (see this excellent post that I still think about). But the particular blame being placed on Orym is a fun new twist on this theme.

I'm sure there's people who hate Orym for other reasons; shipping wank is another very common form of entitlement to a particular storyline. I must admit when it comes to Twitter I think some people just yell random lies out into the void to hear their own voice because there is no underlying logic to any of it. But I do think a large number of people who have been blaming Orym for everything for what is now the majority of the campaign are doing so because he has consistetly refused to entertain the idea that Ludinus makes any valid points from the start, and the narrative has pretty much only rewarded him for that.

A lot of people really thought that Campaign 3 "all bets are off" didn't mean like, messing with the narrative structure (they hate when that happens by the way. they acted like Downfall and the Solstice Split and the fact that this has been a very plot-driven campaign rather than one about character backstory are all fucking violations of the Geneva convention the way they carried on, and I say this as a person who can complain) but rather that Critical Role, a D&D-based fantasy, would shed those pesky two previous campaigns of canon (unless of course earlier canon helps them make a point. I truly cannot believe someone made like 5 alts and harassed me and all my mutuals for an entire evening over hypocrisy for...liking one ship more than another when these idiots exist) in order to become some kind of deeply pathetic "French Revolution Except Instead Of Kings It's Gods" historical re-enactment.

We're at the point where like, nothing has validated them and everything they've claimed the gods have done, Ludinus or the Weave Mind have done like, tenfold. As mentioned, the people who were like "oh my god STOP SAYING HUBRIS anyway obviously Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as relatable" just watched Laudna and Imogen be like "wow, they're flawed and conflicted and a fucked up family just like us." I shit you not, I saw someone criticize FCG's relationship with the Changebringer because "he had to work for it" as if that's not like...how literally all relationships work if you're not an utter black hole of entitled self-absorption. The Kreviris Imperium wants to straight up colonize all of Exandria but they turn a blind eye. There's someone out there talking about putting Rashinna's head on a pike for being willing to endanger the poor Ruidusborn children that...Liliana (probably to some extent coerced by Ludinus to be fair) could have left alone to live out their lives on Exandria. People genuinely channel some anti-abortion "but What About The Disabled Children? Shouldn't Pregnant People Be Forced To Carry And Parent Them" style arguments at Alma's "hey, we have people delay birth for like half an hour so their children don't have The Psychic Migraine Disorder That Made Imogen Possibly Suicidal". The arguments have devolved into "well, canon isn't real" and "but the status quo" as if there aren't ALIENS FROM SPACE SPEAKING AT THE DRAGON VATICAN. How STUPID do you have to be to think that wouldn't change the entire world. Or, to get back to this ask, how desperate are you to maintain the illusion that you are going to get a wish-fulfillment campaign that never once existed? So yeah. They blame Orym because otherwise they have to blame literally the entire cast, and themselves.

[remyfire]

Weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth rn

[kafus]

Was Grusha redeemed in your eyes in ep 66?

Him passing liko in the implementation test after seeing her true potential was a great development.

i didn’t feel that grusha was properly redeemed the way i wanted until episode 67, and even then i’m a little disappointed with the loss of potential that i personally saw in his dynamic with liko, but it was… enough for me to let it slide and not dislike it persay (ep 67 was AMAZING btw, the grusha thing is barely a speck on the episode for me)

for me it wasn’t about grusha seeing liko’s potential as a trainer (though i’m glad he got to see her show off her abilities and recognized she is strong), it was showing the audience that grusha’s behavior was him inappropriately taking out his personal trauma on liko. he is right that sometimes there are no second chances, and part of growing up is learning that, but the way he went about conveying that and the environment/position of power in which he did so was fucked up (and roy and dot seemed to agree!)

additionally there was so much emphasis on showing grusha’s backstory and why he acts the way he does and thinks the way he does, so i was initially really disappointed that hz066 didn’t touch on that basically at all, since i really thought liko had the opportunity to change him for the better at least in a small way

ep 67 actually follows through on showing that grusha has changed just a little in the way that he responds to liko losing to roy, and while it was just sort of a side comment and not a focus with the elaboration that i wanted, i am more or less satisfied with that conclusion, even though i think liko and grusha really had the potential for a stronger and more interesting dynamic with a more satisfying conclusion

[crimeronan]

i'm only stumbling upon this interpretation after my like 14th time watching eclipse lake & i'm aware i have An Agenda (TM), so i'm not sure if this was INTENTIONAL or not, but like.

hunter tells amity "there's nothing worse than disappointing someone who thinks you're special" when amity is worrying about being a good girlfriend to luz.

and i think basically all the analysis i've seen has applied this line to belos and later to hunter's feelings about willow, both of which are 100% true.

but also.

is he. is he also. Talking About Luz.

like. is he talking about disappointing luz in hunting palismen.

just. god. listen to me. it is so fucking funny and sad if he's talking about luz PLEASE. hunter looking at amity's texts and gripping her by the shoulders like "blight. you're about to fumble this. blight i KNOW i know how this goes. i fumbled it myself in some mysterious way that i'm still working out. she didn't like me stabbing her in the back or whatever for some reason even though that's totally normal and fine behavior. blight please i'm telling you i've been in your shoes BLIGHT LISTEN TO MEEE-"

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from chapter 12 of Constellations:

‘Can I ask you something?’ ‘Sure,’ Efnisien said, nodding encouragingly. ‘You’ve…talked about Lludd killing people casually in the past. Do you know if he killed anyone? For real?’ Efnisien’s steps slowed, and then he stopped in the dappled shade of a tree, staring at its base for a long moment. ‘You… Uh. Did you not-? Did you really not know?’ Efnisien asked. ‘I knew he was capable. I knew he wanted to kill me. But no, I saw nothing. I never had proof. Just you joking about it and him threatening about it.’ ‘Right,’ Efnisien said. He took a sharp breath. ‘Right. Okay. Yeah, he killed people. So did Penny.’ When he’d been younger, all of Lludd’s victims had seemed like non-people. They were figments; they didn’t have lives, or names, or histories, they were just threats. Even when it became almost real, Gwyn still struggled to think of those people as people. Chelsea would have said it was a coping mechanism, but now Gwyn felt confronted because his family members had murdered people. ‘Did you see it?’ Gwyn whispered. ‘No,’ Efnisien said, his voice rough. ‘Well- With Penny… Uh. But with Lludd, no. Not- I never saw a murder. I saw the results. Didn’t you? Don’t you remember with Christine? Crielle’s maid?’

[solargeist]

have you perhaps considered you might be autistic? (< im being genuine, im autistic and ive noticed a lot of my traits in you eg the really really not wanting things to change around)

i think its somewhat likely, i've been told online and offline multiple times it seems like it, but its not something i'd want diagnosed or confidently say 100% "hey i have this !" so instead i'm just like. hey im struggling saur much with these traits halp

[chaotic-toby]

☆ Billy Lenz hating his hypersexuality ☆

(TW: Brief mention of CSA. Well, its not mentioned but it is eluded to. Hypersexuality? Billy hating himself immediately after touching himself, Billy being Billy. A mental breakdown?)

This is just a short thing inspired by how I am feeling right now. This contains sexual things in it, so 18+ people only (it feels so weird to say that. I'm not used to being an adult yet)

Billy panted loudly as he turned off his makeshift vibrator-- something he found in the attic that was definitely not made with sexual intent in mind, but desperate times calls for desperate measures, and Billy had been extremely desperate. It had been what seemed like forever since he last masturbated, and the feeling was eating him up inside. A burning sensation in his core that could only be extinguished by a satisfying climax.

He was definitely satisfied now. Within the span of probably around an hour and a half (he wasn't keeping track of time), he had came five or six times, all with a great build up with an even sweeter release.

Billy shoved the vibrator back into the massage toy and threw it somewhere. The attic was quiet, as well as the rooms under it-- all the sorority girls were gone for some kind of lunch, so now he was left with his thoughts. Every time he masturbated, Billy couldn't help but think about it, analyzing everything he did, how he felt, what he thought of, without a fail. Laying there, Billy bit his lip as a wave of shame came over him. After what had happened to him, how could he enjoy sex or anything sexual? He should despise sex, not embrace it. Yet, here he was. Jerking off on the floor of some dusty attic that needed a serious deep clean.

"Filthy Billy..." The man whispered to himself, hands going up to tug on his hair, "Filthy Billy. Filthy Billy. Disgusting... Filthy Billy. You know what you did."

He was slowly getting louder as he spoke on, his breathing picking up as well. He started making pig noises, "Nasty pig. You're such a nasty pig. Don't tell them what I did!" Billy kicked the nearest thing to him, which happened to be the birdcage. He was such a disgusting freak.

This was the last time he would ever touch himself ever again!

Was what he said last time and the time before and so on and so on...

[sludgevomit]

Your knees trembled as sensitive skin was ripped open. Miniscule pieces of broken glass pierced through raw flesh. The pile of shards was sprinkled about the floor by Sir as he commanded you to kneel before him. The pain first startled you, the feeling as if you were being bitten by small fire ants. Yet, it turned into a delicious sensation of ice and eroticism. Pushing your body to the edge as gravity forced your knees deeper into the sharp material. Blood began to spill around in puddles that threatened to flow underneath the couch. Sir’s legs were crossed in front of you; his boots level with your eyes. You admired the intricate overlapping of laces that formed a ladder cross. Silver eyelets revealed the residue of dirt and blood that stained the once shiny leather. You let your vision flutter upwards, noticing the squint in Sir’s eyebrows. The message was clear, he wanted you to clean them. A ritual that has been done many times between the two of us in the past. You delicately took hold of the closest boot. Tongue wet and heavy with saliva. Tastebuds making contact with the bitter and salty grit, shaking with excitement as you allowed your brain to go numb. Pleasing Sir as you washed away the dust, leaving sleek black in its wake.

[haveyouheardthisband]