#its not the religious trauma its not the religious trauma its not th-
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Angel x human hualian au
Im obsessed with this concept
#my art#digital art#its not the religious trauma its not the religious trauma its not th-#artists on tumblr#fanart#doodle#sketch#misc#tgcf#hua cheng#hualian#xie lian#san lang#priest#angel#angel x human
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• smut• and lead us nott into temptation — asshole! pureblood! dom bottom! theodore nott x male! muggleborn! catholic! sub top! reader
requested by 🦈 anon! (aka my silly goofy lil guy <3)
WARNING: if you don’t like sacrilegious shit or gay male reader inserts, KEEP SCROLLING
i’ve got enough religious trauma to last me many lifetimes, so writing this one was just like ✍️🥲📿
tws: ⚠️dub-con⚠️, 🔞smut mdni🔞, literally no plot, manipulation, coercion, amab reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, pure blasphemy ngl, inappropriate use of religious prayers, lot of shit talking about the catholic church, gratuitous use of em-dashes, gratuitous use of the pet-name “angel”
you and theo are dormmates or something? idfk man this is literally just 2.2k words of depravity
not edited cause tbh i’m hella embarrassed that i wrote this
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“…hallowed be thy na— Theo?”
“What are you doing?” your roommate asked as he stepped inside your shared dorm, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze focused on the rosary in your hand.
“Praying,” you mumble, cheeks flushing under his heavy stare.
“You’re religious?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You believe in all that Muggle deity bullshit?”
“Yes.” You stiffened, lips twisting in distaste at his choice of words.
You could physically see his pupils dilate at your affirmative answer.
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. “So you’re…what, celibate, or whatever it’s called?”
You startled at the sudden change of topic.
“Um…abstinent, yes,” you corrected, taking a step backwards as he moved closer.
“Shit,” he cursed again. “That’s fuckin’ hot.”
He kept moving forward, crowding you back against the wall. You squeaked when he rested his hand against the wall beside your head, blocking you in on one side. He gently, but firmly, gripped your jaw in his other hand. His gaze raked up and down your body.
You gulped. “Th-Theo, what’re you d—”
He cut you off with a harsh kiss.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was Theo biting your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, tightening his grip on your jaw to wrench it open, and shoving his tongue in your mouth.
You were frozen, the rosary slipping from your fingers and hitting the floor with a loud clatter. After an aggressively…passionate? possessive? minute, Theo pulled back.
“My sweet little angel,” he cooed, gently stroking the side of your face. “So pretty and pure.”
Your skin prickled under his touch, at the way his eyes darkened with hunger. The way his gentle caress belied the drop of blood running down your chin.
He looked like sin. The way his hair curled above his ears, his pretty pink lips dotted red with your blood…
He looked like the Devil himself.
“I want you to fuck me, Y/n,” Theo murmured unabashedly into your ear.
Your knees trembled. Your heart raced. Your eyes were so wide, it was near painful. “Wh-what?”
“Please, angel? I want you to fuck me,” Theo whispered against your lips, a sensual tone in his voice.
“Or,” he sighed over-dramatically, really playing it up, “if you want to remain a prude, you can tell me to stop right now and I will; no hard feelings.”
You trembled. What were you doing? Why were you even considering this?
Theo’s hand remained on your waist, and he ran his thumb across your bottommost rib in a steady pattern, back and forth, as he waited for your answer.
“L-Leviticus 18:22,” you spluttered, doing your damn best to ignore the way the sunlight streaming through your dorm window highlighted and accentuated Theo’s gorgeous bone structure. “Th-thou shalt not lie with m-mankind, as with womankind: it is a-abomination.”
“That’s not a no.”
“That’s not a yes!” you argued. “Besides, lust is a sin of its own!”
“No, this doesn’t count.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an abomination, not sex. Says so right in your little book. So therefore…” his fingers wandered down to the waistband of your trousers, dipping teasingly underneath to ghost over your hip bone before retreating. “Therefore it can’t be lust.”
It was the most backwards logic you’d ever heard.
But it was hard to think about turning him away when the heel of his hand was suddenly pressing against the front of your trousers.
“I-it…it isn’t?” you choke out, a confusing new sensation sparking in your stomach. “A-are you sure?”
“Of course,” Theo said, so confidently that you couldn’t help but believe him.
“I-if you’re sure…” you trailed off, eyes widening as Theo dropped like a rock, his knees hitting the flagstone with a resounding crack that you wished you could record, just so you could listen to it over and over and over again.
His impatient fingers fumbled with the button of your trousers, yanking them and your boxers down to your mid-thigh in a single smooth motion.
You flushed bright red at the mere notion of being naked from the waist down in front of another person; let alone Theo, the boy who’d been your roommate for the last eight years.
He kept his gaze firmly locked with yours, those unnervingly dead eyes framed with sinfully long lashes, as he flattened his tongue against the base of your dick and licked a long, slow stroke up the length of it.
“Oh, fuck—” you cursed, your head falling backwards and hitting the wall behind you with a solid thunk.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.” He grinned, his thumb swiping over the head of your dick and collecting the dribble of precum that was steadily leaking from the tip before spreading it around.
You whined pathetically, your thighs shaking as a moan was wrenched from your lips. Theo grinned wickedly at how debauched you already looked.
Without a speck of hesitation, he closed his mouth around your dick, his clever tongue teasing the underside. He hollowed his cheeks around you and you gasped out a choked-off moan.
Theo’s hand snaked up and found your wrist, guiding your hand to the mess of curls on the top of his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping onto a handful of it for dear life just to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming pleasure. Honestly, the only thing keeping you from falling over was Theo’s tight grip on your hips.
“Shit shit shit shit—”
He pulled off of your dick with a sinful pop.
“Keep reciting,” Theo rasped, his voice already rough and breathless.
“Wh-what?”
“I interrupted your prayer when I walked in here. Keep reciting.”
You gulped, licking your lips nervously as you tried to remember where you’d left off before fully giving up and just starting the Our Father over. “O-Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Th-thy kingdom come, thy w-will be done, on Earth as it— hah~”
Your head fell back against the wall again as Theo sucked furiously on the tip of your dick, all of your thoughts going out the window.
Theodore, that bastard, pulled off again.
You whined at the loss. “No- d-don’t—”
“Ah ah ah,” Theo chided, patting your thigh. “You stop, I stop. Keep going.”
You hissed out a displeased grumble before returning to your prayer as he returned to his S-tier dick sucking. “O-on Earth as it is in H-Heaven. G-give us this d-day our— Theo— daily b-bread—”
His fingers slipped down from your hip to brush against the sensitive skin behind your balls.
Your hips jerked forward on instinct, and Theo moaned like a cheap whore around your cock as it was shoved down his throat, his nose suddenly buried in your pubes.
“And f-forgive us our tre-trespasses…” you panted, fingers tightening their grip on his hair as your eyes squeezed shut.
There was an odd sensation, like a coil tightening, behind your belly button. It was strange, although not unpleasant.
“…as we f-forgive those who— who trespass aga-against us.”
Theo pulled away again. You opened your mouth to curse him out—Heaven knows he deserved it, the damn tease—when he got to his feet and promptly shucked off his shirt and trousers, dropping his boxers without a hint of modesty or insecurity.
You stared, mouth agape, as Theo wandered over to his bed, seemingly in no hurry. He slowly splayed himself out on his bed for you, casting a wandless lubrication charm with a sly grin and an easy, relaxed posture that was belied by his achingly hard cock practically touching his stomach.
“Close your mouth, angel,” he purred, beckoning you closer with two fingers. “You might catch flies.”
You took a small step forward, entranced by the sight in front of you.
“Keep praying, angel,” Theo murmured, running a hand through his already-disheveled curls—which only served in making his just-fucked hairstyle even more pronounced.
“A-and lead us n-not into temptation,”—Theodore Nott was nothing if not temptation in its purest form—“but deliver us from evil.”
You took another step closer, then another, until you were by his bedside. “Amen.”
“Amen,” Theo echoed, reaching for you with one hand. His fingers knotted themselves in your shirt, yanking you down on top of him.
He grabbed the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. You wiggled, kicking your trousers and boxers off from where they were still stuck around your knees before pulling back to gasp for air.
Theo grabbed the front of your shirt again, yanking on it. “Off.”
You complied without a second thought, tugging your shirt off over your head in one fluid motion.
Theo groaned at the sight of your body as you tossed your shirt God-knows-where. He grabbed the back of your neck again and tugged you into another passionate kiss.
“One day, ‘m gonna ride you,” he mumbled against your lips, running a possessive hand over your stomach. “My fuckin’ gorgeous boy. But today, you’re gonna fuck me.”
He pulled you fully on top of him, your knees between his, your forearms flat against the mattress on either side of the boy underneath you.
“Y’know, I never told you to stop praying,” Theo murmured, reaching downwards. His fingers tightened around your cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it closer to his ass and pushing his body down against it.
You swallowed nervously as you took the not-so-subtle hint, taking a deep breath before slowly pressing the tip in and continuing your Rosary. “H-Hail Mary, f-full of Gr—ah!—ace—”
You had to pause then to bury your head in the crook of his neck, your breathing coming in shaky gasps. Your body zinged with pleasure, your toes curling.
“That’s it, baby,” Theo cooed, petting your hair gently. “Doing so good. Keep going. Makin’ me feel so good.”
“Th-the Lord is with thee. Blessed art th-thou amongst women—” you whispered breathlessly against his sweaty skin, pausing again for another second to compose yourself before you very slowly and hesitantly pressed in further.
Theo’s knees tightened around your hips as he dug his heels into the backs of your thighs, urging you closer. “Sh-shit— angel, I need you to go in all the way. C-can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
You nodded and took a deep breath, and slowly and carefully pushed yourself all the way in, bottoming out inside of him after an agonizingly long moment.
Theo gasped sharply as soon as you were fully seated inside of him. His fingers tightened their grip on your shoulders until his nails managed to break the skin. You leaned down to press your lips against his—much more gently than he had—and moaned into his mouth at the slight sting from his nails.
Theo sighed in pleasure against your lips and returned the kiss. “M-move, angel. Need you t-to move.”
You slowly pulled nearly all the way out, your eyes fixed on his face. You wanted to document every facial expression, every muscle twitch, everything that Theo did while underneath you.
Watching his lower lip tremble as a moan spilled out of him had to be your breaking point. Your hips snapped forward of their own accord, quickly filling him back up. “A-and blessed- is- the- fruit- fuck- of thy w-oh!-mb, Jesus.”
His head fell backwards with a loud cry, his nails raking up your back as he scrambled for anything to cling onto. “Yes! Fuck— harder!”
“H-Holy Mar— shit! M-Mary, Mother of G-God…”
You sped up, driving into him faster and harder with every frantic demand that left his lips. You let out a high whine as Theo leaned up to suck on the tender flesh under your jaw with a feral-like possessiveness. Red and purple marks had already begun to bloom along your neck and jaw.
The coil in your stomach tightened even further.
“Th-Theo, I don’t— wh-what’s—?” you stuttered, panicking at the unfamiliar sensation.
“Y-you about to cum, angel?” he panted. He stroked a gentle hand over your lower abdomen. “You feel s-something funny right here?”
You whimpered and nodded frantically. “P-please— I’m gonna—”
“No. Hold it, angel.”
“Wh-what?”
“You don’t get to finish until you finish your prayer, baby boy.”
You hissed in discomfort. “P-pray for us sinners—”
Your words were interrupted by a high-pitched moan from Theo as his back arched off the bed. He started chanting your name, over and over again, like a prayer of his own.
His fingers scrabbled for a hold on your shoulders as he tightened around you. “Shit shit shit— ‘m not g-gonna last— fuck! Cum for me, angel,” Theo pleaded, his nails digging further into your back and leaving long marks that quickly blossomed into a rich pink color.
“Nowandatthehourofourdeath!” you rushed the last line with a near-shriek as the coil in your abdomen exploded, your toes curling again and your vision going white. Your arms buckled and you collapsed on top of Theo, who was experiencing the exact same thing as you.
You both just laid there in a sweaty heap, limp and boneless from your respective mind-blowing orgasms.
“Amen,” Theo said softly, finishing your prayer. He casted a wandless cleaning spell on the both of you before gently wrapping his arms around you and stroking your scratched-up back as you both came down from your highs. You let out a pleased purr at the feeling of his soft touch gently brushing over your stinging scratches, a wordless spell from Theo methodically coating the marks with a numbing topical ointment.
You echoed the sentiment after a moment of catching your breath, content to just cuddle with him in this moment. You pressed a kiss to the side of Theo’s throat and whispered a singular word against his skin, “Amen.”
#harry potter#hp#fuck jkr#hp x male reader#x male reader#x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott smut#theo nott x reader#male reader
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What’s Couya’s perspective/mental state during the lead up to White Calf Exploits? What does she think is going on in general, or irt omens and hallucinations, and how is that fed into by her social/interpersonal/personal history, or her relationship with religion?
A lot of the abuse she experienced in her childhood was partly rooted in/influenced by her being autistic. Children with developmental disabilities that notably impact their functioning are often conceived of as having not properly been incarnated in their bodies and missing parts of their soul (this is especially the case with severe intellectual disabilities, which unfortunately is often responded to with infanticide if detected soon after birth).
Couya would be considered fairly ‘high functioning’ as an adult, given she's taught herself to mask most behaviors (the most pronounced symptom is her consistently and very noticeably avoiding eye contact, and otherwise she just comes off as quiet, overly blunt, and strange) but had pronounced and dramatic symptoms as a child (having meltdowns, going nonverbal, taking a very long time to learn to speak, etc). This is not something that parents are given any societal equipment to understand or deal with. There are certainly some parents of autistic children in this setting and cultural context who love their kid (even children they believe to be half-empty) and try the best they can, but Couya was mostly raised by a mother who hated her, being seen as a living breathing insult in that she was born in an affair, a living reminder of her own traumas, a compounding of the shame of having birthed a premature sickly infant and never successfully conceiving again. So there wasn’t going to be a supportive outcome here.
Her mother would quite explicitly impart to her that she was something half-formed and empty, not really a whole person, not fully human. Janeys learned to parrot this. Her father never verbalized this notion and was far kinder to her, but was clearly in agreement that something was wrong with her. Couya grew up with this messenging and fully internalized it.
One (semi)positive way she learned to cope with this is by recontextualizing herself as an empty vessel in a positive sense, something uniquely primed to be filled and shaped, specifically in the context of her religious beliefs. All Odonii are conceptualized as living vessels for aspects of Odomache, and an empty vessel can hold more than one that is already full. She might not be a full human, but maybe this just makes her better in service to her God. This is the psychological backdrop that primed her for everything else.
WRT the pilgrimage, she is a true believer, and wholly accepts that the sacrifice and re-incarnation of the Odomache is vital to restoring God’s connection to Its lands/the sacrifice-rebirth cycle and should end the drought. She is, however, coming into it with significant doubts about the royal family’s role to play. Faiza is completely loyal to (and partly puppeting) the Usoma Stavis Amanti, but Couya doesn’t share her faith in him.
At this point, six years into a famine that has been handled absolutely disastrously, public opinion of the royal family is in the pits. A once fringe politically radical argument that the institute of dynastic emperors is a godless foreign import that should be replaced with native Wardi religious practices in the form of a priest-emperor (usually assumed to be the Odomache) has become a fairly popular public sentiment. This is especially the case given the death and defilement of the previous Odomache and loss and presumed destruction of her body (preventing God Itself from being able to naturally reincarnate, halting the cyclical flow of its spirit) is seen as what initiated the drought to begin with. (Don't mistake this for like, proto-leftist sentiment, this is just about replacing a dynastic emperor with a god-emperor and shifting into a religious-nationalist theocracy).
Couya had already seen the logic in this radical sentiment; she had great pride in her order and agreed with the notion that it would provide far better leadership and public unity than the increasingly weak and unpopular Amanti dynasty. But initially she kept this to herself (especially as a representative of a pilgrimage that was, in large part, a desperate display of unity between a fracturing priesthood-military and the imperial family) and was willing to go along with things, it was far more important to perform the rites than to perform a coup.
There’s significant pre-established and widely held beliefs in dreams being potential omens, particularly dreams had by those in the priesthood, which may be visions directly from God (or specifically the Face they serve). Early into the pilgrimage, Couya has an EXTREMELY evocative dream that is highly suggestive to her as prophetic guidance from God Itself:
She is in the palace district of the city of Wardin. The streets are filled with slowly rising floodwaters. She finds the calf dead in the water being torn at by feral dogs. She kicks away the dogs and lifts the calf to its feet, which is now alive but feeble. It’s behaving entirely like a normal baby cow, even sucking at her fingers looking for milk, but in the dream it is self evident that This Is God Itself. Couya knows she HAS to get It to the palace, and lifts it onto her shoulders and wades through the water. One dog follows her and is jumping up, trying to bite at the calf, and Couya’s hands are full and she can’t do anything. There are people watching and she’s like “hey can someone get this stupid dog away from me” but no one makes a move.
Hibrides is suddenly walking with her and the dog is gone, and starts talking about how the calf is good meat, hard to come by in these times, they should get it to a butcher. Couya is in disbelief like "Hibrides what the fuck are you talking about. This is God. You can’t just eat It." God moos in agreement. Hibrides concedes, and is just kind of There for the duration, and dream-Couya is now thinking about how she’s going to have sex with her once she’s done with her task, this is self-evident in a dream-logic way, as if it’s an inevitable part of the process she’s undergoing.
They make it to the palace with the water now up to their necks and Couya kneels on the steps, placing God on the top of the stairway. It is suddenly no longer a calf but a full grown bull aurochs, crowned in three curved pairs of horns. It has an erection. This is Mitlamache in the flesh. It says something to her that she knows is very, very important, but she can’t remember it. At this point the dream tone-shifts and she’s like ‘Cool. Okay now it’s time to plow my brother’s hot wife’ but tragically wakes up before this can occur.
How she interprets the dream:
It is a full description of the incoming journey and situation. God is severed from power, weak and vulnerable and threatened, and needs the protection of its people. Couya seems to be the only one capable of helping it. Through her actions, It is revived and manifests as Mitlamache in its wholeness, ready to restore severed death-rebirth cycle and renew the land’s fertility. It is only restored upon being brought to the palace, suggesting that the increasingly popular belief that the imperial family should be ousted in favor of the Odomache as priest-emperor is the correct way to go. This is a call to arms, a signal that her role in things will be vital, and guidance as to what needs to be done. Not really sure what the Hibrides thing is about but whatever.
Literal mundane meaning of the dream (given I am trying to write this as a realistic dream and this character’s brain processing memories and anxieties):
It’s a manifestation of wider cultural anxieties about the current situation, though displayed through a flood rather than drought (slow, creeping threat). The dogs are compoundations of this threat, being reviled animals attacking something sacred, reflecting cultural anxieties about the empire being torn apart from outside and within (active, immediate threat). ‘God’ is feeble and weak and Couya wants to give herself to save it, it's her duty, she's an empty vessel. The active threat of the dog is maintained for a while, reflective of feelings of constant external threats along the way. People watch on but no one is willing to help her- feelings of isolation, feelings that she's the only one that can do this. The calf becoming a bull aurochs with three pairs of horns and a prominent erection is just how Mitlamache is usually depicted in art, not a directly psychosexual thing. Hibrides is there because Couya has a crush on her, there ARE undercurrents of sexual frustration there.
So like after having this dream she’s primed to think she has a key, very important role to play. This does not immediately translate to her being like ‘Okay so I’m supposed to be the Odomache’, it’s initially just a signal that her intended job of being one of the calf’s emissaries is uniquely critical. The conclusion that she is to become a god-emperor is the end result of a long spiral of events, further (mostly more liberally interpreted) dreams, hallucinations and religious delusions, but it all is based in the aforementioned factors: She understands herself as an empty vessel, and she has recieved messages from God that she is to be the one to restore it. It eventually becomes a fairly obvious conclusion.
One other MAJOR perceived omen along the way is (while Couya, Tigran and Palo and the calf are separated from the group) the three of them being stalked through a more densly treed patch of savannah by a pair of starving wild lionesses. They are inadvertently saved when a bull buffalo separates from its herd and charges at the lions (as a common form of anti-predatory aggression, a large bull could usually drive away two starving lionesses), only for a male lion to appear from hiding and the three lions to kill it instead. Couya's in the middle of a particularly intense break from reality and witnesses this in a dreamlike state, with the meaning feeling very obvious and as very directed symbolism. The wild bull, a sacred animal to Mitlamache like the calf, has given its life to save the people and the sacrificial calf. The starving lions (Odomache) consume its corpse and regain strength in its death, emerging victorious. It seems to be a very pointed signal of how things are going to go, a strong message aimed at Couya specifically.
A lot of it is things that happen on the pilgrimage, with the final tipping point in her mental journey being a massacre of civilians in a Loberan farming village (after an attempt to extract Charitable Tribute For The Pilgrimage goes horribly wrong). This happened in large part because of Stavis Amanti’s relative weakness, deference to his advising parties, and complete inability to control his troops (and this Did truly become a massive and extremely significant stain on the Imperial family’s reputation and started a chain of events that would eventually spiral into a civil war). Watching Imperial citizens, supposed to be under the protection of the Usoma, being slaughtered was an ultimate signal to her that the Imperial Family is corrupt, weak, godless, and must be replaced. And at this point a combination of other factors has persuaded her that she’s the only one that can do it, certainly not Faiza (who has been the presumed candidate for Odomache and is loyal to the royal family). This is where it fully solidifies into hijacking the rites and planning a coup.
#This might not fully cover the question but gives a broad gist I think#The buffalo interrupting a lion hunt by charging them and then getting eaten is straight up just something I saw in a nature doc about#african wild dogs and was like 'Oh yeah this would be so perfect'#couya haidamane
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panic and malaise are fascinating to me
i cannot describe why but they really resonate w/ me, the religious trauma overtones ("overtones"), the codependency, panic and pleasure, all of that. Just wanted to say I don't even know the story, but I can tell its 1.) fucking great character design and 2.) great incorporation of themes into every aspect form the "divine nudity" of panic to the consistent lack of expression on malaise's face while committing atrocities, constantly mutilating into imperfect body mind and soul.
sorry for the mind vomit, great characters :thumbs_up:
th,, 🥺 🥺🥺 omg this means so much to meee im glad u enjoy them!!
yeah as you noticed i have a little bit of history with religious trauma and codependent relationships, as well as overexposure to shock content as a child and the feeling of apathy that comes with the overconsumption of it (go figure) so they sort of encapsulate all of those feelings for me into one convenient abstract mind art representation package.
my DID brain tends to compartmentalize things weird so i give myself the leeway to feel whatever i want whenever i want with OCs instead of locking myself into any one "idea" which is probably why i have issues makign so many instead of sticking to the ones i do have BUT this specific brand of trauma seems to be pretty consistent in my brain so they'll be sticking around for a bit. probably. no promises
#making ocs has become a lot more enjoyable for me#just had to start projecting my own bullshit onto them!#anyway thanks 4 giving me an excuse to babble my feelins abt them :3#ask
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a fragile line - chapter 14
read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC
Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.
Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.
Warning: this chapter contains detailed descriptions of physical abuse from a parent.
Word count: 6k
This is a difficult chapter but one that I'm super proud of <3
Chapter 14: 'Who We Are'
Three years ago, Iowa. (The night Juliet left)
“And I saw a new Heaven and a new Earth. For the first Heaven and the first Earth were passed away. And I heard a great voice out of Heaven…”
Elijah’s words reverberated around the large dining hall, but Juliet found that her father’s voice had been replaced by a high pitch ringing noise in her mind.
Juliet's muscles were stiff, the hard wooden chair tormented her; its solid wooden panes pressed against her back. Juliet sat up straight, wincing as the seat creaked beneath her. She dared a glance up at her father who still read from his black leather book, housed within his tough hands. He hadn’t heard her, no one had. Juliet turned her head carefully, gazing out at her father’s audience - every member of their community settled within the same dining hall, stomachs rumbling as they waited to eat. No one held a fork, no one even dared to touch one. No one would eat until her father said so.
Her eyes locked on a familiar green set and she blinked, dropping her gaze to her hands placed so carefully on her lap. Ethan was watching her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Juliet’s pale face since they all sat down. His attention was suffocating, the weight of his concern pressed against her already tight chest. Juliet inhaled a shuddering breath, the air silently releasing through her clenched teeth.
It was the same every week: the whole community gathered together in the dining hall to listen to her father’s reassuring words, announcing that of course they had enough food and enough supplies to survive the next season. Juliet listened with a cold cynicism but, on the outside, her expression was morphed into the perfect smile of the perfect daughter of the perfect leader of their perfect community.
On these long evenings, Juliet would allow herself to retreat within, to let her mind fade into that realm of bitterness while her painted lips still retained their gracious curve of blind devotion. This night, however, felt different, Juliet’s thoughts weren’t fully absorbed in their unusual anguish. Once her father’s words had faded to a dull echo in her ears, Juliet thought of the man with the green eyes who watched her as though she was the only person in the room. Her secret meetings with Ethan had increased over the past six months. Elijah, Juliet’s father, was distracted as of late, leaving her alone in the house for sometimes days at a time, with the excuse of ‘important town business’. Juliet knew they were struggling to feed the people of their community, she knew how to listen to the quiet conversations taking place in her home.
When her father headed out on another patrol with his men, Ethan would appear, climbing through her window like a hero in the stories she read. Later, when they lay in her bed, tangled in each other’s arms, Ethan would whisper in Juliet’s ear, in his low gravelly voice, his plans to get them out of this place, to travel the country and find other survivors.
To Juliet’s surprise, some traitorous part of her brain actually started to believe him. Hope was a fragile seed that started to grow with every whispered promise Ethan made.
Those hopeful thoughts swirled through her mind, dulling the ache of her stiff body. Juliet imagined her and Ethan escaping quietly in the dead of night, travelling together and finding that they were actually other people out there, despite her father’s insistence that they were the only ones left. Juliet’s eyes darted up to her father’s face, a spark of fear had shot through her as though he could actually hear the treacherous thoughts within her mind.
As her hopeful imaginings took over again, Juliet found herself reaching up to the knife that rested on the white lace tablecloth in front of her. She ran the tip of her index finger along the cool metal, allowing the ridged edge to scrape against her skin. Juliet knew how it felt to hold a weapon in her hand. On those days her father left the community, Ethan would sneak her out the fields behind her house and teach her how to shoot a gun. He would say they were preparing for the day they finally got out of this place. Juliet would only nod, she didn’t really take his words seriously but she enjoyed the warm feeling of his arms wrapped around her as he guided her wrists into the correct position.
Juliet carefully picked up the knife, feeling her hands wrap around it. She had never held a real knife that wasn’t a part of the cutlery. Ethan had one, he would often take it out of his pocket and flip it within his hands. Juliet would watch as it turned over and over again, his fingers brushing against the handle with a rose carved into the wood. She wondered what it would feel like to have one of her own, to keep it in her own pocket or her boot and always know that she could protect herself.
A heavy bang of metal on wood rang out in the almost silent dining hall.
Juliet had dropped the knife.
Juliet was too shocked to even gasp, she held completely silent as she scrambled to put the knife back where it had originally rested by her empty plate.
Her father had stopped reading, the sound his book made when it slammed closed was as shameful as the slap that struck across her face only seconds later.
Juliet didn’t take her eyes off of her plate as her cheek began to burn, the hot pain travelling across the left side of her face. Soon, it was joined by the silent stream of her scorching tears as they dripped down onto her neck.
Across the room, the abrupt sound of a metal chair screeched against the floor. Juliet turned her head, searching for who would dare interrupt her father’s wrath. Her stomach dropped when she saw Ethan standing tall with his fists clenched by his side.
Juliet’s eyes finally found her father’s face and she witnessed the moment where his expression transformed from unbridled rage to his flawless mask of authority. His classic smile was reconstructed but his eyes retained their soulless gleam. Juliet shuddered.
“Ethan, son. Take your seat,” Elijah called across the hall, moving the book in his hand in a downward motion. His gentle voice was laced with a razor sharp edge.
Juliet watched as Ethan’s eyes latched onto her, his jaw hardening as he slowly descended back into his chair. Elijah’s smile widened at the sight. He knew the power he had, his every action was consumed by it.
Her father held up his book as his eyes scanned every face in the room, searching for any other signs of disobedience. He wouldn’t find any, his followers remained as devoted as usual. Elijah was more than a leader to them, he was a God. Juliet’s father had convinced every member of his community that they were the only souls to remain on earth. He had ensured that they were so deeply grateful for his protection that they didn’t even blink an eye at his abuse. The members of his community probably believed that Juliet deserved every slap, every bruise, every day locked in her house.
Ethan’s action, wordlessly protesting her father’s wrath, was unheard of. No one had ever dared to interrupt Elijah, to so outwardly express their disagreement. Despite eventually sitting down, Ethan had still outed himself as a nonbeliever, as an adversary to Elijah’s solid rule. Not only that, he had revealed his connection to Juliet in the rage that rolled off of his body.
Juliet sat completely frozen as her father signalled for the food to be brought in and dished out to everyone in the room. When a ladle filled her plate with a steaming stew, Juliet blinked and grabbed her fork. Her hunger overtook her shock. Elijah sat across from her, heartily consuming the warm meal. He didn’t even glance at Juliet, it was like nothing had happened, like she hadn’t interrupted his reading, like her cheek didn't still sting in the shape of his hand.
When the dinner was over and everyone had begun to clear up their dishes, passing them to the kitchen staff at the side of the room, Juliet felt rough fingers circle her wrist in a deadly grip. She let out a shocked gasp before her father pulled her from her chair and dragged her through the crowd, smiling and chatting with people as they squeezed past them. He stopped his brutal pace when he reached the hallway, tucking Juliet into the gap between the wall and dining room entrance. Juliet’s back hit the wall with a thud, she blinked in shock, opening her eyes to find her father staring at her with curiosity, his head slightly tilted to the side as though he was studying something he had never seen before.
He leaned closer, his presence crowding her, forcing Juliet to press her back more firmly against the wall. This was another method of his intimidation, to make Juliet feel small despite the mere inches separating their height.
“Now, this is very surprising, my sweet Juliet,” Elijah drawled mockingly, his voice almost a whisper as he positioned his thumb and index finger to rest on his chin.
“Ethan, huh?” he asked, then paused, letting his words linger before he made his point.“So that’s who you’re whoring yourself out to?”
Juliet flinched. A thousand excuses sat upon her tongue but they couldn’t find their way past her clenched jaw. She was paralysed against the wall, forced to watch the knowing smile slide across her father's face.
Juliet felt sick. Her father had gone completely silent, his eyes only scanned Juliet’s face as her lip began to tremble. The evidence of her fear made his smile widen, he had got what he wanted. Elijah stepped backwards and Juliet inhaled a sharp breath.
“We’ll discuss your punishment at home,” he announced. His tone was light and his words were so casual.
With one last sick smile, Juliet’s father turned around and walked back into the dining hall, most likely to say goodbye to his loyal followers. Juliet’s back slid down the fall as shock dulled her senses and weakened her muscles. Terror struck her so brutally that she struggled to take a breath. She feared what her father might do to Ethan, the man who had dared touch his property.
Juliet sat shivering in the dark hallway, listening to her father laugh and pat the backs of his men and their families as she waited for him to return. Her impending punishment loomed over her, she had been punished hundreds of times before but something felt different this time. Maybe it was the smile that her father had worn, or the way his eyes gleamed with almost a sick excitement. Either way, Juliet knew that her dreams of escaping with Ethan were gone, crushed like the seed of hope within her.
………………………………………………
Elijah slammed the door behind them as he pushed Juliet into the house. He was silent on the walk home, his hand once again gripped Juliet’s wrist with a bruising weight as he dragged her along the dark streets. The sun had set during dinner and their community had minimal street lighting so Juliet had to rely on her father’s guidance as she stumbled alongside him. The force with which he slammed the door rattled the framed paintings that hung in the hallway.
Juliet felt like one of those paintings, swinging from a flimsy hook, waiting to see if she would endure her father’s wrath or fall to the ground, smashing into a thousand tiny pieces.
She turned her head slowly, reluctantly meeting her father’s intense glare. He stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest as he shifted on his feet, baiting her with the anticipation of his movements. Juliet attempted to steel herself, she straightened her back and lifted her quivering chin as high as her false confidence would allow her.
Elijah weaponised his silence, he understood the power in the awaiting promise of his punishment. Juliet’s imagination was vivid, fueled by the memories of her past indiscretions and the scars that still marked her delicate skin. She had no issue conceptualising what her father had in store for her.
This was why Juliet barely flinched in surprise as Elijah stalked towards her and attached one hand to the back of her head and another to her jaw, then moved it upwards so his palm covered her mouth and his fingers dug into her cheeks with increasing pressure. Juliet’s eyes widened as his nails grazed the budding bruise from his slap earlier that evening. Tears clouded her vision as she felt her skin pierce open from his nails. Panic raced through her bloodstream when she tried to take a breath and realised that she couldn’t, when she realised that her father had taken that privilege from her.
Elijah’s eyes were wide and hungry, as though her panic was feeding the sick appetite that lurked within him. When Juliet’s lack of oxygen became so severe that black spots crawled across her vision, she started clawing at her father’s hands, desperately attempting to ease his pressure on her face. This only stoked his dark greed.
Juliet’s mind was screaming at her, begging for air. Her fingers scratched her father’s hands with an alarming ferocity, but his hold didn’t ease. In the seconds before she lost consciousness, Juliet watched her father’s mouth curve into a deeper smile and the hand pressing against the back of her head began to stroke her hair in an almost soothing gesture.
…………………………………………………………….
When Juliet’s eyes opened, her vision was black. She sat up quickly, her head twisting from side to side, searching for anything lingering in the darkness. It wasn’t long before excruciating pain attacked her skull and she dropped back to the cold ground.
Her eyes had squeezed shut again but her hands, in a desperate attempt to figure out where she was, started to feel the ground around her. There was nothing but a scratchy blanket which lay beside her, as though she had kicked it off of herself when she sat up so suddenly.
Her breathing was too fast and too rough, Juliet raised a shaky hand to rest upon her chest as she attempted to take deep, even breaths. Her throat burned as she inhaled the cold air around her.
When Juliet opened her eyes again, they instantly shot to a strange patch of light filtering in through the corner of the room. Her eyes must have adjusted to the dark, allowing her to see the subtle dark blue light filtering through the blackness around her.
She sat up again, this time using her hands to support her as she moved her head as slow as possible. Juliet shakily pushed herself off of the ground until she was standing, she swayed to the side a little but managed to retain her balance. Then she made her way to the promise of light in the corner.
With each step, her memory returned. The dinner. The slap. Ethan. Her father. Juliet stumbled to a sudden stop, her hand moving to cover her mouth. When her hand touched her face, she had to muffle a scream. Her skin was coated in blood from the scrapes which now etched her cheeks. She remembered the way her father’s nails had dug into her cheeks as her brain begged for air.
Nausea enveloped her body when she realised where she was: the basement.
This was another one of her father’s sick mind games. His punishments were never quick, he liked to ensure that Juliet had already imagined everything in her mind before he enforced his wrath. By locking her in the dark basement, Juliet would have no choice but to sit and think about every decision she had made which led her to this point. Every secret meeting with Ethan, every time he smiled at her and she smiled back, every time she betrayed her father.
When Juliet made it to the wall, she slid to the floor. There was no use even attempting the small window above her. Juliet’s fate was sealed. She didn’t know where her father was at this moment, she didn’t know how long she was unconscious for. Tears streamed down Juliet’s cheeks and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as the cuts on her face began to burn.
Juliet had felt terrified before, more times than she could count. She had been furious, depressed and anxious her whole life but she had never felt so incredibly hopeless before. Juliet had never allowed herself to long for anything more than the life she had been dealt before Ethan became a more prominent figure in her world. Before he had instilled a sense of ambition within her. Juliet had started to believe that her life could be bigger than the four walls of her bedroom.
A sob escaped her trembling lips as the weight of despair fell over her. Juliet tilted her head back against the wall, letting the cold bricks soothe the anguish darkening the inside of her skull.
Juliet didn’t fight it this time as the veil of darkness swept over her mind.
…………………………………………………..
Juliet gasped awake. There was a sharp tapping sound. She held her breath, listening, trying to place which direction it came from.
It wasn’t her father, the basement door was still locked and she still couldn’t hear his footsteps upstairs. Maybe this was a new part of his sick game, allowing that seed of hope to raise its head again before he killed it once and for all. Juliet squeezed her eyes shut and released a slow breath, attempting to calm her racing heartbeat. The longer she sat, the more she realised that she probably imagined the sound.
Then it happened again. This time it was louder, and now that she was fully awake she realised it was coming from above her. Juliet stood, her eyes darting to the ceiling before they landed on the small window at the top of the wall. Her breath caught when she made out the shape of a hand against the glass. Staggering backwards, Juliet attempted to see who it was but a part of her already knew.
Ethan had come for her.
Juliet’s hope returned to her in a sudden burst, tightening her chest and churning her stomach with butterflies. She scanned around the room, desperately searching through the dark for anything heavy to stand on to reach the window. After a few minutes of searching, she found a small wooden table that she dragged over to the window. Sweat coated her forehead as she raced to climb up to the pane of glass promising her an escape. Juliet’s breathing was heavy and frantic, fear motivated every rebellious movement.
Juliet had suffered her father’s wrath before, but she had never seen that look in his eyes as he choked her that evening. Someone had touched his property and her father was desperate to get his revenge. This time, the punishment wouldn’t just be dealt to Juliet, but to Ethan too. Juliet wouldn’t allow that to happen. Ethan was the only good thing in her life, the only good thing she had ever experienced in her pitiful excuse for a life. He had given her a desire to live, to actually believe that she could have a life that wasn’t just fear and sorrow. Juliet never wanted to see that dark look in her father’s eyes again. She knew she wouldn’t survive it. Someone had tainted his perfect daughter, her father might just be tempted to get rid of her altogether.
Juliet pulled herself up to the window, her head just reached it when she stood on her tiptoes. She planted her hands against the chilled glass, searching through the darkness for Ethan. As the seconds went by, Juliet began to panic. What if she hadn't heard any tapping? What if she was still dreaming? What if no one was here to save her?
Another sob caught in her throat as she frantically tapped her palm on the glass as loud as she dared. When another palm suddenly met hers on the other side of glass, Juliet almost yelped.
“Juliet?” a muffled voice asked through the glass.
“Ethan!” Juliet cried, then whipped her head behind her, terrified her father might still be in the house.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out,” Ethan assured her as his fingers traced the edges of the window.
“I need you to pull the handle as hard as you can,” he instructed.
Juliet’s spine stiffened. The first thing she did when she climbed onto the table was search for a handle, but there wasn’t one. She could feel where it once was but it looked like it had been ripped away.
Fear started to grip her again, Ethan being here was too good to be true. Surely her father knew this was happening and was waiting until she truly thought she was saved before he made his move. Juliet was too scared to make another sound. She just shook her head and signalled with her hand that there was no handle to pull.
Even in the dark, Juliet could see the line that appeared between Ethan’s eyebrows. She could almost hear his thoughts start to race as he puzzled over other options.
Ethan moved away from the window and Juliet held her breath. When he didn’t return immediately, she squeezed her eyes shut and started to count backwards from one hundred. Juliet needed something to anchor her to the present or else her mind would fade to her imagination again and her father’s punishment would take over.
When she got down to twenty, Ethan appeared again. This time with a large hammer.
Juliet involuntarily leaned backwards and had to grip the wall to ensure she didn’t fall off the table.
She looked up again and Ethan signalled with his hand for her to stay back. Juliet shifted along the table until her head was tucked against the wall beside the window rather than under it.
Then the hammer hit the glass. Ethan struck twice and the entire window exploded. Glass rained down, covering the table with sharp shards.
It crunched under Juliet’s feet as she shifted back into view of Ethan. If her father was still home, he would definitely have heard that.
“My father -” Juliet whispered, her voice shaking.
“He’s not here,” Ethan replied as he sat down the hammer and started to take off his jacket.
“What?” Juliet asked, confusion started to bleed through her panic.
“Trust me.” Ethan said, as he reached forward and placed his jacket over the jagged edges of glass which rimmed the window frame.
“I’m going to reach in and grab your hands to pull you through,” Ethan announced. “I need you to push off the wall as hard as you can.”
Juliet nodded, swallowing down the fear threatening to crawl its way up her throat.
When Ethan grabbed her outstretched hands, Juliet felt a sense of instant relief. There was a small part of her that hadn't convinced herself that Ethan was actually there, that this was actually happening. But when their fingers touched and Juliet felt the familiar warmth of his hands envelop her own, she knew that this was real.
After a few minutes of struggle, Juliet was out. Ethan caught her in his arms as they rolled onto the grass beneath them. Juliet inhaled the night air in large gulps. A drizzle had started, covering her hair in misted droplets of water.
“Thank you,” she croaked as she staggered to her feet, turning to face Ethan.
Ethan stood and moved forward to touch her arm. Then he stopped, his whole body froze as he stared at her face. Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion marking her forehead. Then she realised what he was looking at.
“What did he do to you?” Ethan whispered as he reached a hand up to her butchered cheek.
Juliet flinched and he dropped his hand instantly.
She didn’t have the words to describe her father’s brutality, so she just didn’t respond. Juliet was still in a sense of fight or flight, adrenaline pumped through her body and her anxiety increased the longer they stood exposed in the night air.
“Forget that,” she commanded, in a voice far stronger than she felt at that moment. “What do we do now?”
Ethan looked like he was going to argue, his hand flexing as though he wanted to reach out and comfort her again but thought better of it. He scanned Juliet up and down, then he bent down to grab his jacket, backpack and hammer.
“Follow me.”
………………………………………………….
The only sounds Juliet could hear were their rough breaths and footsteps as they smacked against the concrete.
Juliet and Ethan had reached the edge of town and their steps slowed as they neared the main gate in and out of the community. They had managed to silently weave their way through town, following the paths they used to walk on summer days where no one else ever went near.
Ethan had been planning this for a while, it turned out that all those times he had promised he would get Juliet out actually meant something. Ethan had been stalking the guards, memorising their shift patterns, attempting to find any gaps in their programme. Any weaknesses he could exploit.
Eventually, he found one. One of the guards was cheating on his wife, and he was doing it during his shift. Meaning that for thirty minutes, once a week, the main gate was left completely unmanned. Tonight was that night.
Juliet didn’t have the words to express her gratitude towards Ethan. He had even raided the armoury and the small food supply kept in the medics office to bring with them. He thought of everything.
When they reached the main gate they stopped. Ethan placed a gentle hand on Juliet’s back to steady her as they stalked up to the watchtower, listening to ensure it was definitely deserted. Juliet’s eyes flickered to Ethan as he scanned the fence, searching for the lever to open it.
Panic flooded her again and she reached out, gripping Ethan’s arm as he turned to face her. His eyes were wide as he met her startled expression.
“You okay?” he whispered, concern softening his words.
Juliet tried to speak but her words wouldn’t appear. There were so many emotions swirling within her, she couldn’t figure out how to express herself.
She swallowed rough and tried again, they were running out of time.
“What’s the point?” she asked breathlessly, her grip tightening on his arm. “What if there’s nothing out there? What if he’s right? What if we’re the last people on earth?”
The questions poured from Juliet without pause, each one hung in the air between them. Her eyes wouldn’t leave his face as she waited for him to answer. Juliet studied every microexpression on Ethan’s face, searching for proof that this was the right decision, searching for confirmation that they would survive this, that they’d be okay.
After an impossibly long moment, Ethan sighed and reached his other hand up to rest on Juliet’s shoulder. Then he looked into her eyes and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“There’s something out there,” he replied, his words as sure as the stars in the night sky above them. “We’ll find it together.”
A shuddering breath released from Juliet’s mouth as her eyes began to blur with tears. Once again, her words failed her. So she just nodded, the movement sharp and steady. Suddenly, she wasn’t so afraid anymore.
Ethan took one last look into her eyes then he released her shoulder. He turned, looking around them to make sure the area was still clear, then he nodded back, and started running towards the gate.
Juliet followed on his heels, her fledgling seed of hope had evolved inside her. It had transformed into a thick ivy, climbing the surface of her heart, covering it with the possibility of something new, something good.
When Ethan reached the lever, he started to pull and the fence shook before it began to creak open very slowly. Juliet wanted to pry it open with her bare hands, the anticipation was killing her. Ethan pulled again, harder this time, and it opened a bit more, Juliet could probably reach her hand through it now.
She moved towards Ethan, with the intention of pulling the lever with him, when a bright light suddenly covered them. It was one of the spotlights from the watchtower. It wasn’t as deserted as they had thought.
Juliet froze, shielding her eyes from the dazzling light as she desperately stumbled the rest of the way to Ethan.
“Juliet! Stop there,” a faint voice called from the distance. Juliet would recognise that voice anywhere. Her father was running towards them.
“Oh god,” she panted. “What do we do?” Juliet croaked out.
Ethan had stopped pulling the lever, he was frozen in shock. Juliet looked behind her, the fence was only open enough for an arm to fit through.
“Ethan,” she shouted, attempting to shake him from his daze.
It worked. At the sound of her frantic voice, Ethan turned towards Juliet and shrugged off his backpack, handing it to her. She took it without thinking, the expression on her face conveyed her confusion.
Once the bag was swung over her shoulder, Ethan started pulling the lever, back and forth, back and forth at a rapid pace. Then turned to face her as his hands continued their strenuous activity.
“You’re going to go without me,” Ethan ordered between heavy breaths.
“What? Ethan, no,” Juliet stuttered out, she couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Listen to me,” he started, then took another rough breath as his hands continued working the lever. “Only one of us is getting through that fence. Your father is almost here, you need to go, now.”
Juliet’s head whipped to the side, she could see her father clearer now, he was closing the distance fast. Tears burned in her eyes as she turned to face Ethan again.
“Please, I can’t do this without you,” she cried. Her heart was shattering.
“I promised I would get you out of here,” he said, his voice cracking. “This is me keeping that promise.”
Juliet shook her head, disbelief rooted her to the spot.
“Juliet” Ethan groaned, his voice rougher now, angrier. He stopped pulling the lever and Juliet turned to see that the fence was now open enough for her to get through. She turned back to Ethan, intending to beg him to come with her. But as she turned, Ethan was standing right beside her. He grabbed her hand and slid something into it before he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her across to the fence and through the tight gap.
Juliet staggered through and fell to the ground with the force of Ethan’s push. When she was standing again she cried out and turned to try and pull Ethan through... but he was already working on the lever, closing the fence.
Through the tiny gap, Juliet watched in horror as her father roared her name and bolted the last few steps towards Ethan.
As the fence closed its last inch, Ethan grabbed his hammer from the ground and swung it towards the lever.
The fence locked in place and all Juliet could hear was metal crunching and the growl from her father as he tackled Ethan. But from the sound of it, her father was too late, Ethan had destroyed the lever, and Juliet was now separated from him forever.
Juliet gasped, air catching in her throat as she attempted to take a breath. Her whole body was shaking. She could hear her father and Ethan struggling behind the fence. Juliet knew she had to move, she couldn’t waste this chance Ethan had given her. So she turned and ran.
In front of her was a thick forest, it was pitch black but Juliet knew she had to keep running no matter what. She stumbled over branches, and twigs scratched her already torn up face but she kept moving.
Her steps only slowed when she eventually reached a small clearing in the woods. She looked up and noticed the moonlight finally bleeding through the gaps in the trees. Juliet tried to steady her breathing as she bent forward to rest her hands against her thighs.
That was the moment that she realised there was still something clutched tight in her hand. Juliet opened her palm and revealed what Ethan had given her in their last moment together...
His knife.
The soft glow from the moon illuminated the rose carving covering the wooden handle of the switchblade. The single rose was carved around the entire handle so you could follow its lifespan from the budding stem to the mass of delicate petals.
Ethan had gifted her his hope.
She wouldn’t waste it.
Present day
Juliet's POV:
Juliet stumbled out of the house onto the front garden. Her feet found themselves on the overgrown brown grass. She assumed this house used to be beautiful once, maybe people would have sat out on the porch swing, kids would have run across the fresh green grass, they might have had garden parties. Juliet’s mind desperately attempted to piece together the puzzle of this house so that she didn’t have to think about the man she left behind inside it.
A shuddering breath left her mouth as Juliet planted her hands on her waist and tilted her head up to the night sky. The warm air had faded into a slight chill. Juliet welcomed the cold. She needed something to bring down the colour in her cheeks. The moon looked down on her, its soft glow roamed over her body, Juliet hoped it would cleanse her.
She reached a finger up to graze her swollen lips but thought better of it. Shaking her head, Juliet tried to clear any thoughts of Joel’s dark eyes and warm lips from her mind.
Joel was probably affronted. Juliet had completely taken advantage of him, mistaking the pain in his eyes for desire.
She shuddered at the memory. Juliet could still feel his lips against hers, could still taste the whiskey on his breath mingling with her own. More than that, Juliet could still hear the sound of his laugh from earlier that day, she could still see the secret smile he gave her.
Her chest hurt, Juliet reached a hand up to rub below her neck, to ease the ache that built beneath her skin. She would apologise to Joel and pray that he would still continue their journey together. Juliet would force herself to bury her confused and misguided feelings, whatever they may be.
Juliet wouldn’t be selfish anymore, she wouldn’t ask Joel for anything other than what he had agreed to all those weeks ago. She clenched her jaw and raised her eyes to dark sky.
Her mind stretched back to three years ago, when her heart had ached under the same moon.
Bending down, Juliet pulled her knife from her boot, running her thumb over the carved rose. Her life had changed so much in the last few years, her hope had expanded and lessened a hundred times. Juliet learned that hope is something she had to find for herself, not something given to her by other people.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment as her thumb brushed over the rose again, then she opened them and placed her knife back in her boot. Juliet straightened her back and wiped her lips on the back of her hand.
As she turned, walking back up the porch steps and opening the front door, Juliet forced herself to lock the sound of Joel’s laugh, the curve of his smile, and the hungry look in his eyes into the vault in her head.
When she stepped inside, Juliet imagined the ache in her haunted heart fading with the remaining light from the moon as the door closed behind her.
_______________________________
@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby
#joel miller x original character#joel miller x reader#joel miller x oc#joel miller x female oc#joel miller hbo#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller angst#joel miller#ao3 fanfic#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#pedro pascal#Spotify
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Sunny Day Jack - Love and Sex Headcanons
You read the title, you know what the topic is about; I’m going to be rambling off my personal headcanons for the romantic and sexual preferences of the main cast of Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack. This is as it applies to my fanfics Sunshine in Hell and Sunshine in Another World, so I’ll be including my version of the MC, Alice King.
Content warnings: This fandom/game/content is for Adults Only. There is talk of sex in this post. A lot of it. I will be going into graphic detail at times, as well as touch on some serious issues on occasion, such as SA, trauma, negative body image, toxic relationships, religious guilt, homophobia, bigotry, past child abuse, sex work, and such.
While I intend to keep things mostly spicy and sweet, sometimes darker topics affect a person’s view about sex and preferences, since sex can be complicated that way. This is especially the case if a character deals with some traumatic experience that relates to their sex life/sexuality. I will try to trod lightly on the heavier topics when I can.
I must emphasize that, while I draw information from the game’s canon as shown in both versions of the demo, Sleepy Time Jack, as well as official information/art and development images/posts, ultimately these are my personal headcanons. They might not completely line up with what’s going to be canon in the final game. These are just what’s currently canon for the Sunshine in Hell continuity and what feels right to me personally when it comes to the characters.
I say currently canon since stuff changes as I develop things and play with the characters more. They’ve definitely evolved since I first played the demo. Heck, they’ve even evolved since I started working on this post due to how long it’s taken me to get this finally finished.
Since this post will be using official/development art to help illustrate my points at times, I want to give my friend Sauce full credit for their awesome art and for creating this game with all its wonderful characters and ideas in the first place.
Please consider supporting them and the rest of the SnaccPop Studios team by signing up for the official patreon. Also, consider buying a full size print of this steamy cropped piece of art with a special toy included. It would help out a lot of lovely hard working people and give you access to the many cool posts on there, as well as juicy lore tidbits. A fair number of these posts influenced my headcanons, which you’ll only be able to see if you join up. Remember, don't share anything privately posted on patreon!
While I’m at it, here’s links to the official twitter, tumblr, itch, steam, and kickstarter pages for Sunny Day Jack, which are also places where I got information and inspiration for these smutty headcanons.
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur
Okay, with disclaimers, promotions, and tags out of the way, let’s get down to the spice.
…
This post won’t encompass every single thing that the characters find arousing/attractive, since there’s no way that I can think of everything for one post, but I’ll write as many kinks, desires, and preferences that come to mind.
First, let’s have some general headcanons that apply to all the main characters. None of them have a preference when it comes to gender. It doesn’t matter what’s in someone’s pants or how they identify. What matters to them is what’s in their partner’s heart and usually that’s the most attractive quality a person can have.
Consent is king! All the characters want consent from their partner/love interest, particularly enthusiastic consent. While some might be pushier than others when it comes to wanting sex/romance, at the end of the day, “no” means “NO.” Everyone’s consent matters.
Now onto the specific characters, starting with the star of the show…
Jack(tor)
Jack has two sides to him - that of the character known as Sunny Day Jack that he’s trying to embody, and that of the actor who used to be known as Joseph Cullman. While he polished the rough edges off of the persona that he presents to the world, at the end of the day, he can’t change his likes and dislikes so easily. A lot of his desires as Jack have been influenced by the desires he had as Joseph… as long as they don’t cause him to break character. There’s a level of what’s “expected” and “acceptable” for him to like as the kid friendly Sunny Day Jack, and what this naughty, naughty yandere really desires deep down inside. We can see evidence of this in his BDSM test results.
Overall, Jack is quite dominant when it comes to his sexual desires. Specifically, he’s a service top, focusing on controlling the scene with his partner’s pleasure in mind. He wants to make his partner feel his love in every sense of the word.
Jack is pansexual/panromantic. He doesn’t discriminate, and can find any sort of body type or personality attractive, but that doesn’t mean that he’s indiscriminately able to fall in love or lust with just anyone. His desire to be loved has led him to make poor choices in his past and has led to him growing attached to people who took advantage of how desperate he was to be loved.
Romantic attraction and sexual attraction are linked when it comes to Jack. He’s not going to desire someone sexually unless he’s experiencing romantic feelings towards them, so usually the two things come together at the same time.
Once Jack falls in love with someone, he is very, very loyal. It will take a lot to get him to let go of these feelings. He’s also very much the jealous type, wanting to monopolize the person he’s in love with, which results in him being fairly clingy. Though, he is willing to compromise on just how clingy he is for the sake of his partner’s wants and needs, provided that he’s not at risk of losing them. At the end of the day, he loves sincerely and wants the person he loves to be happy.
While Jack has claimed in an audio drama Q&A posted on patreon that he theoretically might be open to entering a polyamorous relationship, ultimately, what he really wants is a closed monogamous relationship. He might have lots of love in his heart to give to as many people as will accept it and him, but at the end of the day, he can’t stand the idea of losing someone who actually loves him, particularly the person he loves the most. As I’ve mentioned in past headcanon posts about Jack getting into a poly relationship, (which you can read here and here) I don’t think it would be a healthy balanced relationship between all parties if he were to go into a poly relationship, and as such I think he’s better suited to a single partner.
That isn’t to say that I don’t think Jack would refuse to have sex with someone besides his partner… provided that his partner is the one who wants him to do so. He might not want it himself, but he is willing to consent to it provided his partner is there to watch him do it. He’s willing to consent to quite a lot of things for the sake of love, even if he dislikes them or it makes him uncomfortable. After all, if he’s willing to kill for the sake of his love, there’s a lot of other unsavory things that he’ll be willing to do.
As shown in this early development art by Sauce, Jack isn’t exactly happy to encourage his rival to hurt themselves, as we see from his forced smile, but he’ll do what he must for the sake of keeping his sunshine. Even though this is technically not-canon, it has helped shape my idea of how going down this path causes damage to his psyche and isn’t something he would want if he could avoid it.
In a lot of ways, Jack is a sexual chameleon, eager to please his partner. While he is keen to try different things and experiment in the bedroom, he won’t push any kink that his partner doesn’t want or reacts badly to. Sure, he’ll attempt to convince them to give something a try when it comes to a kink that excites him if they express reluctance, and he’ll want to know what’s wrong so he can fix it or otherwise accommodate them if possible, but at the end of the day, he won’t ever force anything onto his partner. Their pleasure is his pleasure.
Jack is addicted to his partner’s love, attention, desire, pleasure, and validation above all else. This is why he thrives on hearing his partner praise him and tell him just how much they love him. Words of affirmation is his primary love language, as we’ve seen with how ready he is to shower his sunshine with words of love, and how much it meant to him that his sunshine verbally confirms that they love him.
Jack also gets excited by the idea of others seeing him being loved so much by his partner, which is where his exhibitionist kink comes in. He’s the one who is special to his sunshine, not anyone else. They can only watch with envious eyes while he shows them exactly what they’re missing out on. It’s quite a turn on to show the world just how much he’s loved, that he’s the only one special enough to be loved by his sunshine like this. Only he deserves his partner’s love, and only he can make his sunshine feel this good and loved. He would have sex in public before an audience with his sunshine if his partner consented to it, provided that it’s made clear to everyone involved that he’s the only one his partner truly loves and needs more than anyone else.
Another factor that plays into his exhibitionism is his desire not to be forgotten. His past as Joseph is full of moments where that left him feeling discarded and unlovable. The more people who focus on him, the less likely he is to be forgotten.
Cuckolding is definitely something Jack hates, at least if he’s the one being forced to watch his partner have sex with someone else. Even if other people are involved during sex, he needs to be his partner’s primary focus. If he’s the most important person to his partner, then he can at least tolerate others’ involvement. He doesn’t want to have sex with someone that he’s not in love with (or at least not strongly emotionally connected to romantically), but if it made his partner happy, he would do it for their sake… though he would need them to shower him with love and encouragement the entire time.
However, if Jack is the one cuckolding someone else, like, say, Ian… now that’s a different story. Tied to the degrader kink, Jack wants to show that he’s more worthy than others of his sunshine’s love. If his rivals are writhing in envy and can see they don’t deserve Alice like he does, well that’s pretty darn exciting. It’s why he’ll be a poor winner and make sure that all his rivals are very much aware who Alice chose instead of them.
Yes, this means that, just like Jack is going to make sure that Shaun overhears him making love to Alice (as I’ve mentioned in previous posts), he’s going to make sure Ian knows that her pretty moans are only for Jack, now and forever. While the incident with Shaun is Jack marking his territory to prevent a possible rival from getting any ideas, with Ian it’s far more personal. Jack wants to make sure Ian feels worthless and inferior to him in every way. I haven’t decided exactly how he’ll go about this, but hopefully he won’t take it too far, hahaha.
Anyway, ultimately, when it comes to involving other people besides his partner, Jack would rather have an audience rather than additional participants: they can look, listen, and envy, but they can’t touch.
At the end of the day though, his partner has a lot of sway in this matter if others are involved in their sex life… for better or for worse.
While love and sex are closely tied in Jack’s mind, he can still perform sexually without romantic attachment, though he would prefer not to. Back before he was an actor, when he was homeless after running away from home, he had to do things that he wasn’t proud of just to survive, which included performing sex acts on a transactional basis. He was used, and he knew full well that he was being used, but he did what he could to survive life on the streets.
This is part of why Jack prefers to be the one dominating. He wants control over his sexuality in a way that he couldn’t have when sex work sometimes was the only thing that kept him from starving to death. Sex workers don’t tend to be treated well by their clients, especially if they’re a homeless drifter without any support network.
Jack did attempt to find love in the past, but oftentimes he was just exploited for his body, which led to toxic relationships similar to the Tragedy of [Redacted] theory in one of my first headcanon posts. His desperate desire to be loved was unfortunately taken advantage of, which led to unpleasant experiences. Sometimes he fell for someone’s charms and actually believed that they actually cared for him, only for that person to just want a quick fuck and not a real relationship, which stomped all over his heart and made him wonder what more he could have done to “deserve” to be loved…
Once Jack became an actor, he went from being ignored to getting too much attention… and all of it shallow, just focused on his body and fame. The interview with Dan was a sore spot for him because he was used in many ways, by people who only saw him as a sex object to use then discard and not as a human who desperately wished to be loved.
This is why Jack’s feelings for Alice are so strong. Due to their connection, he can literally feel that she cares about him in a way that he never could with anyone else. With how much he’s always craved such a connection with someone, their bond has given him reassurance that he never got to experience while alive. He can feel when he pleases her and when he makes her flustered. He can tell when she’s upset and has an easier time spotting when he’s making a mistake with her. There’s security in knowing her feelings for him, and that those feelings are sincere.
The connection also allows Jack to feel what Alice is experiencing physically to some extent, which includes sexual pleasure. For a service top like him who gets off on his partner’s pleasure, it’s addicting to be able to literally feel the pleasure that he’s giving her. He knows when he’s doing well, and he can learn quickly how best to pleasure her. He wants more and more of all of these wonderful feelings this connection with Alice gives to him, so he’ll do whatever it takes to please her so that he can feel more of her love.
While Jack has a huge exhibitionist kink, and the idea of an audience watching him make love to Alice excites him, at the same time he wants to lock her up away from the rest of the world so that they can’t take her away from him. He needs her. He loves her. His very existence depends on her. What she gives him is far too precious to risk losing for any brief moment of pleasure.
As we’ve seen in this development art… Jack would prefer it if it was just him and his sunshine… forever. Between his past and being trapped in the tape, there’s a desperation to him now to not lose Alice and everything she’s given him… and woe be it to anyone who tries to take his sunshine away.
After being trapped in the tape and suffering a hellish fate for 40 years without rest, Jack has become touch starved and clingy. He was love/touch starved even before his death, but the tape made it so much worse. He would be very happy if Alice wanted to hold onto him 24/7. He views having a piece of his soul inside of Alice as similar to getting a hug from her all the time, and vice-versa with the piece of her that she gave to him. Although that piece of her soul is the most precious thing he possesses, he can’t help but be greedy and want more and more of her. He’ll take as much as she’ll give him.
As one might expect, Jack isn’t keen on being separated from Alice for too long. In the past, he could handle giving his partner space for several days if they needed it, but going a full day without his sunshine is unbearable in the present. It was especially rough in the beginning when their relationship was still new, and their connection was fragile.
It just gets so cold without his sunshine…
The sensory deprivation Jack experienced in the tape affects him as well. He’s more sensitive to stimuli than he was before. This makes him so much more aware of the world, especially what he can and can’t interact with. This is especially the case when it comes to his sunshine.
Really, a sunshine that keeps Jack at a distance would just make his neediness worse, as he literally can’t interact with anything else. Sure he can see his surroundings and respond to them, but he needs to be closer to his sunshine to interact with them, including his sunshine. If all he can touch is his sunshine for a long time, it just makes his neediness to be close to them all the worse.
Fortunately, Alice pretty much accepted Jack of being capable of touching and interacting with things right away, so it’s not as bad for him as it could have been... but let’s face it, Jack’s need for sensory stimulation is going to be pretty bad regardless.
Jack is hyper aware of everything about his sunshine - the feeling of her skin, how warm each part of her body is, how soft... All the little folds and curves. He memorizes the sensation of her fingers wrapped around his and just how small she is when he holds her in his arms, completely surrounding her.
Jack is so aware of her scent too, so very, very aware. Most of the time Alice smells of vanilla cupcakes and sugar cookies due to her shampoo and deodorant, but sometimes she puts on perfume or switches things up. He notices it right away when it changes, but most of all he notices how her distinct scent without any perfumes affects it. He’s smelled her products directly - out of curiosity he swears - but it’s not the same. It’s nice... but it’s not her.
Smelling Alice’s pillows and clothes... now there’s where he gets his hit when he can’t be close enough to breathe her in. At the start, she gave him one of her pillows that smelled just like her. She never really gets it back, and when Jack gets sneakier with slipping away to take care of himself, he brings the pillow with him. He buries his face in it as he jerks himself off to thoughts of her, imagining that he’s buried his face in her chest or between her thighs.
When Jack discovers that Alice has a pillow that she props between her legs to sleep more comfortably, he can’t help but imagine her humping that pillow imagining it’s him. She doesn’t, of course, but the fantasy gets to him, and he can’t help but be the one to enact it, imagining that he’s thrusting into where this lucky pillow usually rests. He made sure to clean it up thoroughly afterwards so she doesn’t notice, but seeing her sleep with it after that drives him crazy.
Jack knows using her pillows and clothes like that is wrong, but it’s fine, right? He’s being patient, waiting for the day that Alice is ready to do these things with him. He knows it’ll happen. He can feel how much she cares about him. With every day they get closer... and she’s slowly starting to see just how perfect they are for each other too. One day, he won’t need to settle for a pillow. One day, he’ll be thrusting his cock into all of her holes, listening to her pretty moans that are only for him.
And, well, he’s right, basically. Jack is a very, very happy man when that happens, and he makes sure Alice doesn’t regret choosing him. He’s going to make sure that she enjoys every second of their lovemaking.
Until then, Jack has his fantasies of what it’ll be like. He fantasizes about Alice on a daily basis, often lewd fantasies but sometimes wholesome and sweet like imagining them getting married. He’ll try his best to only imagine what he’s seen of of her so far without assuming what he’ll find underneath her clothes. It doesn’t matter what equipment she has after all, she’s beautiful and perfect to him just as she is. He laser focuses on every new inch of skin he sees, searing it into his mind forever and adding it to his fantasies.
Sometimes it feels to Jack as if Alice is teasing him as well. He would be convinced that she is if he couldn’t pick up on her thoughts. She’s genuinely oblivious how sexy she looks wearing only a too thin t-shirt with no bra, especially when she stretches. She doesn’t notice how her clothes ride up when she stretches or how he drinks her in when she does. He can’t help but notice just how flexible she is and imagine how he might be able to make her body bend around his in various delicious angles. Until that day though, he won’t let anything slip by his notice.
This leads into Jack’s voyeurism kink. This is pretty closely tied to the exhibitionist kink. He loves to show off his sexy body and see the desire in his partner’s eyes. He wants them to know what he has to offer, how good he can make his partner feel, and how good they make him feel. He also enjoys seeing his partner show off their body to him and watching them get off… provided that it’s not with someone else. Watching someone else make his partner moan isn’t his idea of a fun time. Sure his partner is sexy, but… it leaves him feeling insecure. What if they like the other person better? He can’t risk it. They should only be moaning because of him.
So when it comes to voyeurism, Jack would rather watch his partner get themselves off for his pleasure, preferably moaning his name or even begging him to take them. He would even enjoy watching his partner play with themselves in a deliberate effort to tease and entice him. Brat taming is something he enjoys, and making sure his partner knows who’s really in control of their pleasure as he teases them even more than they teased him is quite enticing to him.
Teasing is something that’s all in good fun, as far as Jack is concerned… as long as it remains playful of course. The degrader kink in his case isn’t done with insults like calling his partner a slut or other such degrading insults, unless they explicitly wanted him to do that of course. Rather, it’s the excitement of making his partner feel flustered and overwhelmed, even embarrassed, that’s turning him on. He knows what they’re weak against and uses it against them to leave them a blushing mess, overwhelmed by how he knows them inside and out. No one else could ever be as close to them or know them as well as he can.
An example would be Jack praising Alice for being so wet when he fingers her while she’s standing in the camera’s blind spot at Popov’s, even though she’s worried about being caught doing something so lewd at work. With how flustered she gets in general, and especially when risking getting caught by others, it can be counted as degrading to be praised for doing such a lewd act in a semi-public place. However, he is not making her feel like she’s wrong for being aroused by something she finds embarrassing.
Jack never intends to make his partner feel bad in any way. He only wants to make them feel good. Coaxing them into doing things that get them aroused and overwhelmed in a good way is exciting for him. That’s why he’s also a big fan of overstimulation and orgasm denial. He loves making his partner orgasm repeatedly and watching them come undone. If he can leave his partner a babbling mess, begging him for more or that it’s too much, while clearly enjoying every second of what he’s doing to them, he feels so needed and wanted.
Being teased can be fun as well, though Jack prefers to be teased playfully by a partner who acts a bit bratty, pushing him to work for the prize of satisfying them both. His partner proposing a challenge for him to overcome is thrilling when he can shatter their expectations and leave them totally at his mercy.
Another way Jack enjoys being teased by his partner is if they try to “escape” him, acting as prey to allow him to indulge in his predator kink and chase them down. The idea of hunting his partner, searching for them wherever they run or hide, snatching them up, and getting a good taste of his prey as his prize is delightful. Adding in a bit of bondage as well by tying up his cute little prey adds an extra thrill. Then he can tease them with praise, touch, and affection until he tames them, leaving them begging him for more.
Sure, Jack technically has a cheat mode when it comes to finding Alice due to their connection, since he can sense her wherever she is through it, but that doesn’t mean hide and seek can’t still be fun. He can just pretend that he can’t sense where she’s hiding, really heightening up the tension as he pretends to overlook her hiding spot, coming so close, putting her on edge of being found, only to pass her by. It would be a game in and of itself to tease her with the threat of almost catching her until finally he’s ready to pounce and claim his cute little prey.
Jack isn’t exactly opposed to reversing the game, with him acting as the prey, but he would quickly turn it back around on his partner. With how little control he had in his life while alive, a part of him rebels against being controlled by anyone… though his sunshine is a bit of a unique case.
Alice didn’t have to save him from hell. That was her choice. Jack might have been willing to give her anything if she saved him, but she didn’t actually want anything from him except to save him. It’s for that reason that he’ll do anything for her. He might not want to give up control, but if it was for her sake, he would let her take total control of him as long as she loves him, needs him, and never forgets him.
Really, Jack would find it cute to imagine Alice trying to hunt him down or act dominant with him in the bedroom, especially since he knows that he would soon turn the tables on her and turn her into his adorable prey. It would be more like brat taming for him in that case, teasing and tempting her until she was too flustered to continue trying to keep control, submitting to him and his love~
However, Jack only enjoys predplay if it remains play. It stops being fun if his partner is genuinely scared or in distress from the behavior. It’s the same with any kink really. A good dominant pays attention to the submissive’s comfort and needs, and he’ll be sure to satisfy all of his sunshine’s needs.
Although Jack has been shown in the test to prefer being a sadist, he’s not actually a fan of making his partner feel pain. Back when he was still alive, he could be more comfortable with various forms of mild sadism, such as spanking or hair pulling, but in the present, the idea of hurting his sunshine even in such minor ways is unthinkable. He would only be able to handle dealing out pain to his sunshine if that’s what they sincerely found pleasurable, since he would want to fulfill their needs. Of course, he would be checking in on how they’re doing a bit excessively to make sure that he never gets too tough.
Rather, the form of sadism that Jack enjoys is leaving marks on his partner’s body, particularly kiss and bite marks. It’s physical proof of his love on their skin that shows the world just how much he loves them. It’s not to the point of spilling blood or leaving a permanent scar, just leaving behind evidence of their lovemaking. It’s proof that they’re his. He’s the one who made those marks, and anyone who sees them will know his partner chose him and not them. He won’t bite unless his partner enjoys it of course. If they do, he’s going to get a taste of them and make sure it leaves a mark behind.
I mean look at this screencap. Jack really wants to be nibbling on his sunshine instead of his lip.
This is especially true in the present. Although Jack can’t stand the idea of hurting his sunshine, seeing Alice covered in hickies and bite marks makes him feel more real. He’s left irrefutable evidence of his existence on her skin, and he makes sure to adorn her in as many as she’ll allow, especially in places that she can’t easily cover up. It gives him a thrill to think that anyone who sees her would see those marks and realize that she doesn’t need them. She chose him. She’s his just as much as he’s hers. The world might not be able to see him (yet), but he’s proving that he’s real by showing the world that he’s claimed his sunshine.
Another way that Jack wants to mark his claim on his sunshine is with his cum love. Seeing his partner as a sweaty, overstimulated mess, adorned in a pearl necklace he made for them with a dripping cream pie between their legs just does it for him. He would love to make a mess of his sunshine and admire his handiwork afterwards.
This leads to Jack having a breeding kink. When he was alive, it was more mild than it is in the present. Although being a parent was a bit intimidating for him back then due to his toxic upbringing, he always hoped that he would find a loving partner and be a father someday. Granted, a breeding kink doesn’t necessarily have to lead to procreation, but simply the act of seeding his partner can be just as fun~
With the world being unable to see/hear/touch him, Jack feels more of an urge to leave his mark. Since Alice is the only one that he can interact with, that makes him want to leave his mark on her body in any way that she’ll allow. Getting her pregnant is the ultimate proof that he’s real, and even before she is ready to have kids with him, he’s fantasized about it countless times. In the past, he was thinking of siring or adopting one kid, maybe two, but in the present he wants more kids than that - as many as his sunshine will agree to. The thought of her pregnant, watching her tummy grow larger with his child drives him crazy in the best ways.
Jack is open to experimentation and trying new things, particularly at the request of his partner. He’ll do his best to accommodate his partner’s needs, whatever they might be, even if they’re not to his tastes… provided it doesn’t put them or their relationship at risk. More extreme kinks… he’ll be willing to give them a shot, but if they’re too dangerous or damaging, he’ll try to pump the brakes or at least talk about why his partner is interested in it so that they can reach a compromise that’s healthier for both of them.
As shown in the demo, Jack is very vocal in bed. He showers his partner with praise. He can talk dirty as well, though he could only swear while he was still alive. In the present, his dirty talk is mostly innuendo, as he can’t bring himself to swear anymore. Sunny Day Jack would never swear after all, it would be utterly unthinkable for a kids TV show character. If his partner wants him to degrade them by using specific insults and terms, he’ll indulge them as best as he’s able, but he’ll make sure to dish out extra praise and affection during aftercare so that he can remind them just how much they mean to him. He thinks the world of his sunshine, and he wouldn’t want to risk them actually believing that he really does think such horrible things about them.
Jack is the king of aftercare. If his partner needs anything, he’ll get it even if he’s tired. Need water or a snack? He’s on it. Need cuddles? Oh you bet he’s all over that. Need help getting cleaned up? Don’t worry, he’ll carry his partner to the bath and change the messy bedding for them. Sore? He’ll be sure to gently massage those tense muscles into submission.
Jack’s mouth isn’t just good with words. He has quite the talent for oral play. He loves using his mouth all over his partner’s body, particularly where they’re most sensitive, or where they need extra love. His favorite place to kiss, besides their lips, is their throat, as he can feel his partner’s moans vibrate against his lips, giving him that little bit of extra feedback that he’s doing a good job.
However, the sexiest part of the body for Jack is his partner’s stomach, though he loves every inch of his sunshine. A soft round tummy just does it for the guy, though all stomach shapes are lovely. He just loves having a partner who is soft and perfect for cuddling. He enjoys having a softer partner who he can protect, especially if they’re smaller than him. Caging his soft partner underneath him makes him feel secure, and he’ll keep them trapped in his arms all night long if they let him.
Jack’s favorite positions are ones where he’s facing his partner. He wants to see the expressions they make and kiss them as they make love. He favors the mating press in particular, as it allows him to penetrate his partner as deeply as possible and hit just the right spots to make them scream his name and see stars. He wants to be totally surrounded by his sunshine’s warmth and feel their love all around him.
Jack has a very high libido, so he wants to have sex as often as possible. He would want to do it every day, even multiple times a day if possible, masturbating and fantasizing about his sunshine if not. His stamina was just a bit higher than average when he was alive, but now that he’s a supernatural entity with powers, he can keep going with a very short refractory period. If his sunshine lets him, he could make love to them for hours. Of course, he’ll be considerate about the difference in their sex drives and energy levels.
Being an actor, Jack is excellent at roleplay. In fact, he might be able to get into the part too well at times. In the past, it was easier for him to get carried away with a role (which plays a part in why he’s Jack now instead of Joseph), but in the present, if he goes too far with it, that could lead to him mentally crashing back down when he realizes that he’s acting out of character for Sunny Day Jack. If he can justify Sunny Day Jack playing such a role, he doesn’t have to suffer such dissonance, so any roleplay in the present will have a bit of a primary colored tint to it.
Of course, the more relaxed Jack gets in his relationship with his sunshine, the easier it’ll be for him to slip out of character and be more himself. If these “out of character” moments never result in anything bad and his sunshine enjoys who he is when he’s at his most open and vulnerable… then maybe he’ll be able to be more comfortable acting more like himself instead of the character he wishes he was…
This is the goal for Sunshine in Hell. Although Jack is going to try his best to stay in character as Sunny Day Jack at the start, as he spends time with Alice and the two of them grow closer, he’s able to make himself more vulnerable to her, less guarded. He’s able to experiment more, indulge in the desires he has that Sunny Day Jack would never even think about. Eventually, he’ll be able to be someone who isn’t the character that he portrays, but someone comfortable in his own skin, with someone who loves him as the flawed man that he is and not as the perfect idol that he wishes he was.
I think we’ll wrap things up for Jack on that heartwarming note… especially since his entry has ballooned into 12 14 pages at this point, hahaha. I might have more thoughts in the future, but let’s show the other characters some love too, shall we?
Speaking of love, let’s talk about Jack’s sunshine, specifically my version of the MC for this erotic yandere romance game.
Alice
As I’ve mentioned before in other headcanon rambles, Alice is on the aro/ace spectrum. While she does experience horny thoughts/urges, she doesn’t actually desire someone romantically or sexually unless she’s known them for a while and has developed a bond with them. She can objectively see that someone is attractive and admire them, even feel flustered by the attention that they give to her, but these are platonic feelings. It’s only after she’s been friends with someone and opens up to them that she might develop romantic feelings for them. Even then that’s not always a guarantee. Sexual attraction then follows only after she’s made a deep romantic connection with that person, and only with that person. This would make her orientation demi-romantic, demi-sexual.
Because it takes such deep trust and closeness for Alice to fall in love with someone, when she falls in love, she falls hard… for better and for worse.
Alice is strictly monogamous. She can’t bear the idea of sharing her partner with another person, and she’ll do all she can to serve their needs to the best of her ability. She’s also fairly clingy with her partner, as her love language is primarily physical touch. She loves holding onto her partner as much as possible, playing with their hands or hair, caressing their face, nuzzling into their touch, and in general just cuddling up to them as much as they’ll allow. She can also get silly with her affection, licking or nibbling on her partner playfully if they allow her, and writing words or symbols on their skin with her finger.
Of course, Alice is careful to be gentle when nipping her partner since she has slightly larger fangs than the average person. If she bit down hard, she could draw blood with those fangs… if her partner is into that and convinces her that they really want her to do some damage of course.
Alice is only comfortable with physical touch with someone if she trusts them and has a positive connection with them. If she doesn’t have some level of trust, being touched puts her on edge, even if it’s something as casual as a pat on the back.
The part of her partner’s body that Alice finds most attractive is their chest. Big, small, flat, soft… they’re all beautiful, and she loves to bury her face into her partner’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as often as she can, feeling them breathe as she holds them close. She also enjoys hands, snuggling into them, touching them, lacing their fingers together. It makes her feel so wanted to feel her partner’s hands reaching out to hold her.
Although Alice tends to favor being more submissive in the bedroom, she’s a service bottom, wanting to make sure her partner feels good. She’s not content to be a pillow princess, just lying there and letting things happen to her. She wants to do whatever she can to make her partner feel satisfied and happy… even if that means doing things that she isn’t exactly comfortable with.
Alice struggles to reject anything that her partner suggests, even if it makes her uncomfortable. She wants so badly to be a good partner who is worthy of the person she loves, since she has self-confidence issues. A lifetime of fat shaming from many sources, including society at large, has made her hate how her body looks, and she feels ugly. This is something she struggles with and though she has been called beautiful, she can’t bring herself to really believe it when the majority of people have called her ugly. It didn’t help that she was treated as a weirdo by her peers and isolated or ignored. This has led to Alice feeling a need to “make up” for how “unattractive” she is with acts of service for her partner in the bedroom.
This has led to unfortunate incidents in her sex life. Alice pushed herself to have sex before she was ready, with a partner who didn’t know what he was doing. It was clumsy, even painful, and though she tried not to think about it, she was reminded of the SA she experienced as a teenager. This was not anyone’s fault, but ignoring the warning signs of a trauma trigger can be pretty devastating.
Needless to say, Alice and Ian’s first time was… rough, and full of apologies from both of them, along with a lot of guilt. I touched on how difficult their sex life was in previous posts before, such as this one. Sadly, their sex life played a part in why their relationship turned sour.
Sex with Ian was mostly Alice servicing him with handjobs and blowjobs, with penetrative sex coming infrequently. Unfortunately, Alice didn’t really enjoy the penetrative sex, as Ian tended to go too rough with her, and they both had the misconception that pain was always involved at the start of penetration for the person being penetrated (if not for the whole experience.) Sadly, by this point in their relationship, Alice was having a hard time voicing any complaints that might make Ian feel bad or like he was wrong in some way. She mistakenly believed that she was the problem for not really enjoying or getting off on the experience. After all, there was pleasure along with the pain, and penetrative sex was what all sex led up to, right? Was it even sex without it?
Penetrative sex is so glorified in media, that Alice believes sex is incomplete without it, as if she’s denying that full connection of love with her partner if she doesn’t do it. It might be painful, but she wants that deep connection with the person she loves. Plus, Ian would always be so eager and excited for it. She found him just so cute, and it made her feel good that he desired her so much that he couldn’t hold back. It might have been painful, but it was worth it to be the only person in the world who could drive him so crazy with desire. It was so nice of him to think of her when he wanted to try out a new technique that he was sure would make her feel good, since, ho boy, did the lady in the porn ecchi enjoy it!
Unfortunately, Alice learned over time being with Ian that getting sex techniques from porn really isn’t a good point of reference. That’s why she eventually started reading articles giving advice on sex-friendly websites to get a better sense about real sex, rather than the fictionalized version depicted in porn.
But, hey, at least Ian was happy. Alice took joy in his happiness and satisfaction, and enjoyed the cuddling they did in the afterglow the most. Cuddling, kisses, listening to his satisfied sighs, and hearing how much he loved her were what she enjoyed the most about their lovemaking.
Of course, Alice found that same satisfaction with just cuddling and a nice make out session without sex involved.
Sadly, like a lot of people with little experience, Alice is under the mistaken assumption that penetration hurts at first, but soon goes away. This is an exceedingly common trope in hentai/ecchi where the bottom, regardless of gender, always feels pain at the start of being penetrated but then pleasure makes the pain disappear at some point. It’s treated as expected in this form of media, something unavoidable that must be tolerated for the sake of enjoying sex. Heck, for some people, pain during penetration is a feature of sex, not a bug.
This is why when Alice and Jack eventually have penetrative sex, the fact that it doesn’t hurt even a little bit catches her off-guard. Not that she’ll complain, obviously. This results in making her more enthusiastic about that form of sex than she ever thought that she could be.
Alice does not enjoy pain, at all. It’s not sexy to her to be spanked, choked, insulted, or to be otherwise made uncomfortable and used. She’ll try out something that she might dislike for the sake of her partner’s kinks, and she’ll tolerate things that are painful if her partner feels good, but that doesn’t mean she’ll necessarily get much enjoyment out of the experience.
Inflicting pain or insults on her partner is something that Alice doesn’t care for either. She’s too empathetic, and the idea of doing harm to her partner, whether verbal or physical, even if they take pleasure in it, makes her feel exceedingly anxious. She prefers being gentle, sweet-talking her partner and cuddling with them.
The most Alice would want to do is playful teasing and leaving kiss marks along with gentle love bites. She could be convinced to bite harder, scratch, or spank if her partner was really into that, but she’s far too much of a marshmallow to handle any sort of hard sadism or masochism. Soft, cuddly, vanilla lovemaking full of sweet words and praise is what makes her feel happiest.
Praise is Alice’s biggest weakness. Whether it’s platonic, romantic, or sexual, she gets easily overwhelmed when she’s praised. She loves it, but struggles to accept it due to her low self-esteem. It makes her happy to know she’s doing a good job, and it encourages her to do more when it comes to pleasuring her partner.
Getting positive attention, compliments, gifts, and in general being treated special is something Alice struggles with, even with her partner. It takes her a while to really believe it. Ian actually did a world of good for her self-confidence… before he completely destroyed it when he cheated on her, making it worse than it ever was. Jack has his work cut out for him.
Alice masturbates often, but as a stress relief more than anything else. It’s less about being horny or desiring someone else and more about self-care. An orgasm can be very relaxing after a stressful day. She bought toys to help her do this more efficiently, only rarely taking time out to enjoy masturbation as anything more than a quick stress release. Of course, she finds it more fun to play with toys when she’s sharing them with her partner.
After making the connection to Jack, Alice finds her libido increasing because she is picking up on his horny feelings. It leads to many confusing moments where she wonders why she’s feeling horny out of nowhere far more often than she normally did before, and she does make the connection between those feelings and Jack… but attributes it to him just being that attractive in every sense of the word, which only further confuses her feelings towards him in the beginning.
Once Alice and Jack start having sex, her libido increases substantially due to this connection and how much she enjoys the experience. He’s so attentive to her needs and is so eager to praise her when he pleases her or she pleases him that it’s hard not to get addicted to their lovemaking sessions. While she and Ian would have sex once or twice a week on average, usually to satisfy his desires and not hers, she winds up enthusiastically wanting to have sex with Jack almost daily once they finally reach that point in their relationship.
Being restrained is a complicated kink for Alice. She’s never considered herself one for bondage, and, if anything, she doesn’t think that she’ll like it. Her SA trauma has to do with being restrained against her will, so if she feels trapped during sex, it can cause her to panic. Ian has accidentally triggered this trauma in the past.
Being held down or confined by her partner isn’t so much the issue in and of itself. Alice enjoys the security of being completely engulfed in her partner’s arms, safe and secure. There are times when she would seek it out, loving the feeling of her partner lying on top of her like a weighted blanket. It’s when they won’t let her go even when she indicates she wants them to that the discomfort immediately sets in. Although she tries to power through the feeling and remind herself that she trusts her partner and that they won’t hurt her like the people who committed SA against her, and they care about her… trauma is not always that easy to reason through.
This can be a bit of an issue when you have a partner who has a tendency to lose control of his urges and refuses to let you go or come up for air until he’s satisfied.
Needless to say, this led to moments full of guilt and apologies from both sides between Ian and Alice. This, as you might expect, was one of the big contributors to why they didn’t have sex all that often.
Restraining her partner… now that’s something Alice would be surprised to find that she enjoys. Having her partner tied up and helpless as she lovingly pays attention to their body, maybe even blindfolded so they don’t know where she’s going to touch or kiss next would be exciting.
I think I just had an idea for another short fic to write sometime. Better make a note of this for later.
Ahem, moving on… Alice isn’t one for exhibitionism. She’s a very private person overall, and with her self-esteem issues, she would rather have anything more physical than a kiss or hug be kept private. She doesn’t want to have to think or worry about other people when intimate with her partner, preferring to just focus on her beloved and the intimate moment that they’re sharing. Since she can only get sexual with someone she trusts deeply, she doesn’t want to involve other people, even as an audience.
Sadly, Jack isn’t going to be able to indulge in his exhibitionism kink to the fullest with Alice because of this. Though having sex in risky places where they could get caught is a fair compromise that she winds up enjoying way more than she ever thought she would. She wouldn’t enjoy getting caught though, and it would take a lot of coaxing to get her to try again if that happened, but fortunately Jack is a very sneaky ghost(?) who knows a few tricks to make sure that no one will interrupt when he’s showing love to his sunshine.
Alice’s favorite position is missionary. She loves being held by her partner and looking into their eyes, seeing the love they have for her and how good they’re feeling. She loves the feeling of their body on top of hers like a warm weighted blanket. She loves watching them bite their lip and strain themselves to hold on, or roll their eyes up towards the ceiling from pleasure. Watching her partner’s face and knowing that she’s the one making them feel good makes her feel good in turn. She loves it when they look at her with love and desire, like she’s the only person in the world they could ever feel this way towards.
Face to face positions in general are the ones Alice prefers, though she gets anxious about any position that puts her on top. She’s chubby, and she worries about her weight being too much for her partner. For example, if they tell her to sit on their face and that they want to be crushed by her thighs, she’ll be very skeptical that it’ll end well. It’s something that would take a lot of gentle coaxing to get her to try it, and reassurance that they enjoyed doing it afterwards.
Although Alice’s worries limits her in the amount of positions she’s interested in trying, she’s actually capable of doing a lot of them. Despite being chubby, she’s very flexible, able to do vertical splits and put her ankle around her head, to name a few. This makes yoga the ideal way for her to keep in shape. She isn’t confident enough to work out at a gym, but she doesn’t mind stretching with friends or a partner. She takes pride in her flexibility and her excellent sense of balance, not yet thinking about how this ability could be used to great effect in the bedroom.
Needless to say, those attracted to Alice can be treated to quite a show when watching her do yoga. Jack especially is eager to encourage her to exercise often and is only too happy to help her get into the harder poses. He looks up just how to do them so he knows where he can put his hands just right to help her. Before they’re lovers, it’s always so tempting for him to just “slip” and touch her someplace a bit naughtier... but he respects her consent and boundaries. He won’t touch her someplace unless she wants him to, no matter how badly he wants to put his hands and mouth on every inch of her body.
Naturally, once they become lovers, yoga sessions get a bit spicy. Alice has to wonder if Jack is really eager for her to work out to help her stay fit or if he just wants to experiment with positions. Still, it’s a very pleasurable incentive that encourages her to work out more often. It also encourages her to intentionally tease him with her stretches once she grows more confident in their physical intimacy, going into a playful back and forth that she knows is going to end up with him eventually snapping from the tension, stripping of her workout clothes and taking her against the yoga mat.
Teasing her partner and encouraging them to lose control is something Alice can appreciate. It was a bit risky when it came to Ian since when he lost control it could be painful or even suffocating, so she always had to be cautious about how far to push and be prepared for fallout. With Jack though, he’s always so mindful of her comfort no matter how wild she drives him. That allows her to just cut loose and tease him to her heart’s content, knowing that he’ll never hurt her and it’s only going to feel good.
Driving her lover into losing control over their desire makes Alice feel sexy, beautiful. She wants the person she loves and desires to need her so badly that they can’t think of anyone else. She wants to be irreplaceable. She thought that she found that with Ian, so it was worth the pain, but his cheating proved that she was mistaken. Fortunately, Jack will be all too happy to make sure she knows how special she is and how there’s no one else in the world he could ever want, need, or love more than her.
In general, Alice is very vanilla when it comes to her kinks. She favors the emotional connection between her and her partner, the love and trust they share. That’s why she can only have sex with someone if she feels like she can fully trust that person. After Ian cheated, she couldn’t have sex with him again even when he wanted it, which strained their attempts to repair their relationship and helped her realize that things had gotten too toxic between them to try and go back to the way they were.
Overall, Alice is a very uncertain lover when it comes to her own pleasure or anything that might bring discomfort to her partner. She has an easier time focusing on their pleasure and getting enjoyment out of making them feel good. It’s easy for her to forget about herself in favor of her partner’s pleasure even if she’s uncomfortable, which is why she responds better to a partner who makes sure to stay mindful of her needs during the activities rather than get distracted by their own pleasure.
Speaking of a partner who gets carried away by his own pleasure…
Ian
Ian is someone who was very sheltered by his very strict religious upbringing. In his house, sexual desires were seen as shameful. Even masturbating was treated as a sin. Though he tried not to give in to his urges, he succumbed to his desires more often than not, and it made him feel weird. He loved the pleasure he felt from masturbating and the relief it gave him, but he “knew” that he was being “sinful” by doing so, which would leave him filled with shame and guilt afterwards. This would lead to a lot of repression when it comes to his sexuality. It didn’t help that his peers treated him like a weirdo and made fun of his looks/behavior/tastes, isolating him further.
Because of his upbringing, Ian always had a clear picture of what he was supposed to do to have a successful future. He needed to find one person, get married, have kids, and have a lucrative career. His mother pushed him towards a straight relationship in particular - at least when she wasn’t crushing his spirit that finding a partner was impossible for him at all - but he couldn’t help but find guys and non-binary people attractive as well. He has a lot of crushes, both fictional and not, and he has a secret stash of various media full of many waifus, husbandos, and spousus.
Alice was one such person that Ian crushed on, but with her it was far more serious than anyone else. His feelings for his first and only childhood friend were deeper than surface level. They knew each other better than anyone. She was always there for him, supporting him, and making him feel like he wasn’t such a weirdo after all. Her being a girl had nothing to do with how hard he fell for her, though it did make him feel a little less anxious about his mom finding out about their relationship than he would have if his partner wasn’t a girl.
Ian is someone in heavy denial about his desires due to his upbringing. It’s “sinful” to lust after other people, particularly outside of a straight context according to his mother and the scriptures. It’s “sinful” to have lustful thoughts outside of marriage. Heck, even in the confines of marriage, sex is meant only for the sake of procreation. It made him feel weird about desiring people, so he convinced himself that he simply… didn’t. He went into deep denial, telling himself that people were weird, and since he didn’t know them these feelings weren’t something to think about at all. It was easier that way.
Ian knew Alice though, so she became the exception to this taboo he had been taught all his life when she became his partner. For him, it was okay to lust after his partner… at least as much as it could be with anyone. Though his mother insisted lust, even towards his partner, was only selfishly satisfying his manhood in a sinful way, society often said otherwise. Media and their peers made it seem so normal to have sexual urges and want to explore them. Even Alice insisted his feelings were normal and nothing to be ashamed about. He learned more and more about what was normal once he was out from under his mother’s influence and interacted with other people.
While Ian did learn to accept and even embrace the fact that he’s pansexual/panromantic, it’s not so easy to shake the shame related to his sexuality or sex in general thanks to his mother’s toxic influence.
At his house with his mother, even the internet was restricted. Ian didn’t get access to porn until he moved out to college, and even then, that made him feel awkward. He didn’t know how to handle these weird feelings towards strangers, since he was taught that they were sinful and risked damning him to hell. Lusting after fictional characters seemed okay though. That was just a fantasy, playing pretend. Even his mother had romance books that got pretty smutty, though she wailed into him the one time she caught him going through her stash.
This was what led to Ian having a lot of fictional crushes, anime figures, and, of course, ecchi. While the local library didn’t have straight up porn or hentai, it did have more risque manga stories in the form of ecchi, which is why he insists so hard that it’s not porn. The library would never have anything like porn, so it’s not sinful! This means it’s okay that he has a collection of it. He’s not a sinful pervert!
Ecchi has a tendency to really push the boundaries of what can be constituted as porn though, and Ian absorbed all of the sex in those pages like a sponge. The people in the book always looked to be having fun. Sex was something wild and passionate. The people lost control of their desires and enjoyed themselves in a way that he was always denied. Sex was this all-encompassing force of nature in so many stories, not just in ecchi. He was fascinated by it even as he was afraid of those feelings.
Because of this repression, Ian saw himself in these characters who lost themselves in moments of passion as they claimed their lover. This raw animalistic lust was exciting and really resonated with him. Once he started pleasuring himself and forgot about the guilt of his desires, he would lose control in a similar way. He would keep going until he was satisfied, completely losing himself in the experience… only to be hit with guilt once he came down from the high.
With Alice, Ian had an outlet for his sexual desires. She helped him see that these desires weren’t sinful, and she was eager to help him feel good. She made him feel wanted, beautiful, and sexy. With her help, like many things in his life, he gained more confidence in his sexual urges. He explored his sexuality more, both in fiction and with her, though he was far more hesitant and awkward with the latter.
What didn’t help was the mistakes Ian would make… but, in a way, he was used to making mistakes. He was always making mistakes, always blamed by his mother for just about every reason under the sun even if he didn’t actually do anything. All perceived problems were his fault and so he must apologize. Constantly.
Alice supported Ian when he felt sinful, filthy, and sad. She forgave him for his mistakes and even told him he didn’t have to apologize so much. She loved him and he loved her in return for how strong and supportive she was to him.
Ian would try to make amends for his mistakes with apologies, cuddling, and especially with gifts. His primary love language is gift giving, and thanks to the trust fund his absent dad left him, he could give gifts to those he cared about often. He gives friends and especially his partner presents. He even gives his mother presents to let her know that he still loves her despite everything and that he just wants them to actually have a good relationship… however futile that gesture might be.
Although Ian struggles to be vocal about what he wants when it comes to sex and romance, he can be pretty romantic at times… even if he’s got dirty thoughts in mind to go along with it. He knows how romantic a candle lit bedroom with a bed covered in rose petals while sexy jazz plays in the background really sets the mood. Too bad it didn’t actually work out the first time he tried it.
Sadly, Ian was hoping that if he set the mood just right, he and Alice could finally go all the way and lose their virginity to each other. Too bad the mood died a painful death when Shaun walked in instead, and it was a while before Ian got the guts to try that again… at least while Alice was still rooming with Shaun. Initiating sex with her was much easier after they moved into their own place.
I’ve gone over the reasons why I think Ian cheated in previous posts, here, here, here, and here in detail, so I won’t rehash it too deeply this post.
To sum it up - Ian was on his own for the first time in his life when he moved to the performing arts school, without anyone to support him, particularly his partner. He had grown conventionally attractive as he aged, and he was surrounded by peers who shared his interests, which gave him a taste of popularity for the first time. He was given all sorts of new and exciting experiences, meeting all sorts of people who he found attractive. He grew closer to new people, and without his partner around he grew lonely… which led him to giving in to his desires in the worst way possible.
The experience was exciting. The forbidden nature of it actually made the act more enticing due to how repressed Ian was because of his background. It was all “sinful” after all…
Like a lot of people who grew up heavily repressed by religion, Ian finds arousal in things deemed forbidden and sinful. Despite being bullied as a kid, being degraded sexually is something that turns him on. Though he protests about being teased, he enjoys it, even to the point that being called a beast or a sinful slut makes him feel aroused, though he finds such feelings confusing. He likes being commanded and punished by his partner, completely at their mercy and begging them for more.
While this would suggest Ian is a submissive, he’s actually a switch vers. It doesn’t matter who’s doing the penetrating as long as it feels good. Taking control of his partner and rutting into their holes like an animal feels just as good as being taken. He just needs to learn how to better control his urges so he can pay attention to his partner’s needs and comfort to improve taking the dominant role.
Ian is the type of person who gets lost in the pleasure of sex. Once he gets to a certain point, he starts losing his inhibitions, getting more vocal and needy. He’ll praise his partner and beg for more even when he’s the one dominating, growing increasingly needier as the pleasure grows more intense.
The part of the body Ian finds most attractive is the ass. More than once he’s had thoughts of slapping or squeezing his partner’s ass, but was too shy to give into the urge except when actively engaging in sex. Because of this, his favorite position is doggy style, as we can see in this very NSFW picture by Sauce. He loves the way his partner’s ass bounces with each thrust, and he’ll add to the jiggle with the occasional slap once he loses himself in the moment. As he grows more confident in his desires and represses himself less, he’ll consciously want to explore the kink of spanking.
Bondage, both giving and receiving, is something that Ian would want to try, along with some other kinks, but he doesn’t have the courage to initiate it at this time. In general, he struggles to initiate anything related to sex, as that ties into the guilt and shame that was hammered into his upbringing. However, it’s fairly easy for him to get aroused, which would serve as an unintentional way to initiate sex more often than not.
Being an actor, Ian would thrive with roleplay in the bedroom. It would help him pretend to be someone else, someone more confident and lustful. It could help him lose himself in the moment rather than get caught up in his own doubts and insecurities.
Ian struggles with accepting his own sexual desires, which makes it harder for him to communicate with his partner about his needs. This leads to him taking cues from ecchi on what to do, not checking in with his partner like he should, and getting lost in the moment, letting the urges take him where he wants to go. Once he accepts himself as a sexual being and that it’s healthy to feel these desires, his communication difficulties with his partner should improve.
Having a partner who takes the lead is probably ideal for Ian. Being told what to do is something he’s used to, and he feels more confident with guidance. He worries about making mistakes, but if he’s guided through the scene by his partner, he has less reason to worry. In a way, being so good at taking direction is why he makes an excellent actor.
Speaking of direction, how about we switch over to the next love interest on the list?
Shaun
Shaun has a bit of a wild side when it comes to sex. He loves kitten play, both being the kitten and being the master of a sweet sexy kitten. He’ll put his partner in cat ears, a tail with a butt plug, and a collar with a leash if they let him, and he’ll be open to doing the same in return.
Biting and scratching is another one of his kinks, with some minor sadism and masochism. Spanking, bondage, blindfolds… Shaun is eager to explore unconventional means of having sex.
Shaun’s favorite part of the body is thighs. He’ll happily die suffocated by his partner’s thighs. Lying down with his head in his partner’s lap will make him purr. He’ll wear their thighs as earmuffs and bend them back as he pleases, paying extra attention kissing, licking, biting, and raking his fingernails across them.
Then, of course, there’s thigh-high fishnet stockings. Wear a pair of these, especially when accented with a garter belt, and Shaun turns into a puddle of horny goo, especially if they’re worn by his partner/crush, as shown in this steamy picture by Sauce.
To be fair, this is a very spicy sight. Shaun is a man of taste.
Overall, Shaun is a dominant vers, but he’s willing to submit and be a good kitty… eventually. Cats do what they want after all, and it’s going to take a little more than some ear scritches to get this cat daddy to submit to his partner, which is part of the fun.
Speaking of which, Shaun has a daddy kink. If his partner can be a good little kitten and let daddy pet and play with them as he pleases, he’ll be a very happy cat daddy.
While Shaun leans towards monogamy, he’s actually open to joining a poly relationship if the right people came along. He actually considered what it might be like to enter a relationship with both Alice and Ian, but he found that his vibes just didn’t mesh with Ian at all, and not just because Ian’s taste in anime is trash. He just never felt attracted to Ian like he did with Alice, and they never really connected like he did with her.
Shaun got a crush on Alice while they were taking the same class in college. He met her well before he ever knew Ian. They sat next to each other in class and wound up chatting often. They had stuff in common like horror movies, enjoying goth aesthetic, and being silly goobers who joke around with their friends. They’re also the mom/dad friend types taking care of their friend group. She was just so kind and sweet that he couldn’t help but fall hard for her.
It’s a shame that when Shaun finally gathered up the courage to ask Alice out, she casually mentioned that she was meeting with her boyfriend, breaking the poor guy’s heart.
Poor Shaun. Alice had no idea that he was asking her out on a lunch date instead of just going to grab a bite as friends. She missed all the signals he sent her way.
After that, Shaun tried hard not to think about his crush on Alice. He tried to just be there for her as a friend and move on from his romantic feelings, if only for the sake of their friendship. It was just hard when they had so much in common and had such good chemistry… and he couldn’t help but notice some troubling red flags in her relationship with Ian.
It never really seemed to be the right time for Shaun to try to get together with Alice. First it was because she was already in a relationship. Then she had been cheated on and needed a friend rather than someone who would take advantage of her in her most vulnerable moment. She was still in love with Ian even after the breakup, and wasn’t receptive to anyone else romantically for a long time.
Throughout knowing Alice, Shaun has dated other people. He’s had other crushes and tried to get into relationships, some more serious than others, but none have really worked out so far. He has yet to find someone who clicks with him the way that she does. Hopefully one day that might change. He had hoped that when he went off to another college that the distance would allow him to let go of his romantic feelings.
Sadly, a part of Shaun still couldn’t shake the small hope that maybe someday the stars would align and things could work out between them. Coming back to see Alice again just made all the feelings he thought he got over come rushing back… only for his heart to be crushed again when he finds out that once again she has a boyfriend who isn’t him…
Poor Shaun has it rough. I feel so bad for him. This is why I struggle with writing love triangles, hahaha. Still, I’m going with the headcanon that he does find love with someone eventually, someone who he is glad finally came into his life who he just can’t live without. I don’t have a specific character in mind for that role just yet, but I do have a few possibilities that I’m playing around with…
With that said, let’s move on to the fourth and final love interest.
Nick
I’m still indecisive on Nick’s view on love at this point, beyond his crush on the cute cashier at the circus-themed frozen yogurt shop. I’m tempted to have him be a stalker yandere like I talked about in an earlier theory about all the love interests being yandere, but also I’m tempted to go with the angle of him being a sex worker who just wants someone to love him for himself and not simply see him for what he does online.
I’ll probably get a better idea of which direction I want to go with Nick eventually. After all, the audio drama for him on patreon did influence some of my headcanons for him.
Maybe I’ll go with a combination of the two extremes. It would be hilarious that a yandere stalker dom finds himself tongue-tied in front of his crush despite working as an online influencer, rather than it just being a shy mask to get the object of his affection to lower their guard. Hmm…
Regardless of which direction I choose, Nick flirting with Alice at her job didn’t earn him any favors when it came to winning her heart. If anything it made her more on guard around him and lessened his chances of getting closer with her. It’s nothing personal against him, but being hit on while she’s at work makes her feel like she’s trapped, since she can’t leave, and she has no choice but to be polite to customers no matter what happens.
While I don’t have too many love-based headcanons really solidified in my head yet when it comes to Nick, I do see his primary love language as quality time. He’ll make time for those who he cares for, no matter how packed his schedule is, and he appreciates the same from them in return.
Since we’re shy on the romantic headcanons for Nick, let’s just go right to the spice. As we see in his profile, he’s an influencer by day and a dom by night. The audio drama shows him with a very dominating and flirty personality, at least when it comes to his audience. He runs an online streaming show where he talks sweet and dirty to his viewers live on camera. He also takes requests, which vary on the donation tiers. Those requests usually involve dirty talk, exposing himself, using toys on his body, and such. He has quite a lot of subscribers on lonelyfans, and most popular are his private one-on-one shows with a special lucky viewer on rare occasions.
Nick is big into exhibitionism. He shows off his body without shame and enjoys the attention he gets from his audience. He absolutely loves to talk dirty and see how it affects people. He’s good at painting a picture in his audience’s heads with a lewd description, and he gets off on the idea that he’s driving so many of his viewers crazy with lust.
While Nick does want someone to love him as a person, he also wants to be an object of desire for many people. He enjoys his job as a sex worker and the attention he gets online as a sexy dom with his lonelyfans account. Even if he was in a relationship, he would still do his lewd performances before the camera… and maybe he’ll have a special guest star or two on his show if he’s lucky. He would love to convince his romantic partner to join him on camera and dominate them before his large audience, maybe even take the viewers’ requests to decide what he’ll do to his partner next.
Although Nick is looking to join a relationship with just one person, he’s not against the idea of entering a poly relationship, or even participating in an orgy. After all, the more the merrier, right?
Just like on his live shows, Nick is a dominant in bed. He might be shy in casual settings, but he takes control of the scene when with a partner. He’s the one setting the pace, wanting to make his partner beg him and say what exactly they want. He experiments with the kinkier side of BDSM too, such as bondage, candles, and all sorts of toys that can leave a mark on skin and make his partner scream for him.
Nick is very experienced as a dom. He knows how to practice proper BDSM safety and take care of his partner(s) afterward. He can be soft during aftercare, and he knows the benefits of cuddle time. After all, he has a couple fur babies to take care of, and Pico and Cheese make excellent cuddle companions.
I think I’ll finish up Nick’s headcanons with this final spicy tidbit. As we’ve seen in teaser art, Nick has tongue and nipple piercings. I also headcanon that he has a jacob’s ladder piercing. I won’t describe what that is here, but if you know, you know.
I’ve heard that there are people who enjoy the feeling of piercings on sensitive areas, and Nick is one of them.
Conclusion
That’s about all that I can think of at the moment when it comes to my general love/sex headcanons for the main cast. I hope you all enjoyed my thoughts about what turn these five on and what they look for when it comes to relationships.
Though I suspect that when the full release of the game comes out, we’re going to discover that the male leads are probably going to be a lot kinkier than a vanilla aro/ace like me can headcanon up. Just a hunch. ;)
If you are hungry for more smut involving these characters, then you might be interested in checking out Sunshine in Hell or Sunshine in Another World. Those stories are rated as explicit for a reason, and there’s only going to have more scenes of smut to come. I’ve got plenty of rough drafts in the writing tag that I need to finish polishing and post on AO3 after all.
If you like my stories and ideas, please let me know what you think! I absolutely adore all kinds of feedback. It really helps fuel my creativity. Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed reading this huge collection of sugar and spice!
EDIT: Holy crap the timing. I finished this list at the same time as a new incredibly spicy audio drama for Jack dropped on patreon. Join the $5 tier if you want to give it a listen. It’s so, so good and well worth it.
It did disprove that Jack is incapable or cursing or that he would call his sunshine a slut unprompted... but I’m going to stick with that headcanon for the Sunshine in Hell telling of the story anyway. Though eventually he will be able to get pretty spicy with his language the more he loosens up.
The drama also reminded me of a couple things that I left out. I’ve added a few more headcanons to Jack and Alice’s entries since the initial post, and it’s possible I might go back and add even more if more ideas hit me, hahaha. Sorry for any inconvenience.
#Sunny Day Jack#Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack#SunnyDayJack#sdj#swwsdj#Headcanon Ramblings#Sauce-y Art
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So uhh
I like In Stars and Time. You should play it if you haven't already. It's extremely good. And I will be subtly spoiling a lot of it during this analysis.
Recently I have thought of thr trend if assigning tarot cards to characters in media, or my on characters. So I thought...what if I did that to ISAT?
...so yeah. I'll be doing that. Please tell me if I mess it up, or give me your opinions.
Again, spoilers under the cut.
Siffrin(Fool of Hanged Man)
Fool: The Fool is generally seen as the start of a journey. Even though he is at the end, the time loops and the fact that they have a lot of things to worry about/trauma means that they have a long journey ahead of them.
Hanged Man: A reversed Hanged Man, to be precise. Siffrin is INTENSLY afraid of change. To be more specific, he's stuck in this time lopp because he doesn't want to forget or leave his friends behind. His family behind, his country, his memory. The hanged man is about sacrifice and moving forward, and they do NOT want to do either. But they must.
I would also like to add that they may also be linked to The Devil card. Mostly because it's about desire and stuff and Siffrin desires amny things and can do a lot of selfish and cruel things to his family members.
Mirabelle:Lovers or Chariot.
Lovers:Mirabelle is aroace and perfectly fine with that. It’s a shame that she lives in a society where being perfectly fine with staying stagnant forever is discouraged.
Mirabelle is very religious. She believes strongly in the word of Change. So strongly that she is willing to ignore her feelings of being happy with who she is. She loves expressing platonic and familial love, but...romance and sex ain't it.
I chose the Lovers because it is about choice. Crossroads in one's life, that decide your fate. She was about to make the wrong one, the one that would make her miserable. Luckily, she didn't.
Chariot: Mirabelle may not be the Fool, but the thing that helps the fool move forward is a trusty chariot. From the beginning she's been trying to move forward and save Vaugarde from the King, and especially in the clocktower and higher levels of the house, she is determined to bring her home to its regular state.
If she doesn't, she will let everyone she cares about down. Also, again, she loves in a society where she feels she has to change, even if it means being in a romantic/sexual relationship and hating it. It's all for change, it's all for moving forward.
Isabeau: Strength.
Before the story, Isabeau may have been a reversed strength Arcana. Or at least that's how would see it. He was weak, and had low self-esteem and self-worth. And he hated it. He hated it so much that he became...well,*he*.
While he doesn't necessarily appreciate being treated as an idiot now, he seems happy to be a stronger, more confident, and upright version of himself, both inside and our. Though...judging by the fact that Siffrin's comments got to him during their uhh..darker moments, there may still be some doubts left in him.
(Sidenote I think Isabeau may be my favorite character besides Sif and Loop)
Boniface: Sun and Magician
Sun: Bonnie is a ray of positive energy wrapped in a small little crab with a potty mouth and I love them for it. And so does the rest of the party. They support the others with their cooking and miniscule damage. And it's good.
The rest of the saviors would do anything to keep that ray of positivity alive. Even if it meant they would die in the process.
Its no wonder that when they die to the king in the end of Act 3...Siffrin considers that the end.
Magician:This is mostly coming from their hangout quest. Bonnie can heal and cook, but they can also fight...barely. The fact that they are technically the only other party member who can use rock attacks at base(without using a spell like Odile or Sif) shows that they have some potential. And they want to use and grow that potential to go on kore adventures and help their friends.
Odile: Hermit
Odile, while serving as the party's mature voice of reason, and probably fitting for roles like The Empress or Hierophant, I personally see her as a Hermit because of how isolated her story is.
The only one who ever knows what she's doing with her research is Siffrin, and only if/when you do her quest. Every other time, she seems to be isolated and actively hiding it. Its not that she doesn't rely on her friends,but...she's simply doing this alone.
It's a very personal journey for her about being more connected to your heritage and reflecting on yourself.
To be honest, Hermit works REALLY well for Siffrin, too.
#in stars and time#isat#isat siffrin#isat mirabelle#isat bonnie#isat boniface#isat odile#isat isabeau#isat spoilers
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hii its amorette—can i just say i freaked out when i saw capillaries updated?? i loved the latest chapter so so much!!
i love how you characterize dottore and wanted to ask if you have any tips on how you write him / things you keep in mind while writing him, since your fic really inspired me to try writing my own! i hope you have a nice day :DD
Hi Amorette!!! Glad you liked it!
I saw this right as my first break at work ended and suffice to say, it’s been on my mind all day. You’ve opened a Pandora’s box, you’re getting a whole character analysis, because Dottore is actually a royal pain to write about so I have to REALLY study this bastard. The first half is going to be just purely on his canon traits, and the rest are my interpretations and headcanons.
So canonically, Dottore is very prideful and driven by the pursuit of knowledge. No subject is off limits to him, and he doesn’t care about how ethical or moral his research is. Whatever he needs to do, he’ll do it, the ends justify the means. He’s been obsessed with surpassing the gods since he was young, which is why he was ostracized by society. Sohreh’s notes describe him as initially “frigid,” but then she goes on to say she had a good time working with him and is looking forward to spending more time with him (Rip Sohreh). He created segments of himself from different ages as a way to surpass the limits of human cognition, and because they could offer their own individual contributions to his research. Omega is described as more selfish since he was the one to nuke the other segments for the gnosis, and Webttore/Beta is more manic and prone to mood swings. Also, none of the segments like each other.
That’s all the canon stuff. With that alone, you already have a pretty solid start for how to write him. He’s a man who views himself above the people who rejected him and wants to surpass the gods that ignored him. He doesn’t really care about keeping company and he barely gets along with himself. He’ll do anything in the pursuit of knowledge and doesn’t care if someone has to die for him to get it done. If Sohreh’s notes are anything to go by, he may have been antisocial but not completely opposed to finding connection, but that’s up to how you personally interpret her notes and subsequent death. He’s very calculating, and though he does resent the gods, he’s at least mature enough to hold it together for a conversation.
Now, onto my personal take on Dottore, which I’ve sprinkled through the fic already but it won’t hurt to share here :3
So the one key thing I have latched onto personally is his name. Zandik. By this point we all know it means “heretic” but really think about that for a second. That is the name of a man who was born in a world where gods are not only real, but they actually interact with the populace. Maybe it was because my bestie got me into Ethel Cain, but I started thinking about the implications/potential of religious trauma. What sort of homelife would a kid have when his own parents named him heretic when god is actually real? Certainly not a very pleasant life. Of course at some point he’d develop a hatred of gods when he’s been seen as a blasphemous monster since he was born. Of course he’d despise society as a whole, they’ve despised him from the start. This isn’t something he asked for, but it’s all he has. He did no wrong and yet all the world hated him for being born, what did they expect him to turn into?
As a result, my personal interpretation of Dottore is that he is still that prideful, cold and calculating scientist that hates the gods and isn’t afraid to do awful things to prove it, but he is also, deep down, motivated by validation. At the very least, that’s how this all started. At this point he’s become more callous, but there’s a part of him that wants to be appreciated, genuinely, by someone or something. This would have been especially prevalent in his younger self/segments, because he’s not as “mature” as he is now. If you cut through the 400 years of his callous cruel ways, you might find a little boy full of pain and anger asking what he did to deserve all of this.
… TLDR: He’s very smart, very callous, thinks very highly of himself, and I write him as one of those “they treated me like the villain so I became the villain they feared most” characters with a splash or religious trauma for flavour.
If you want to, you're more than welcome to use some of my characterization if you ever write about him! Honestly, for as big a pain in the ass he is to write, he's really interesting to explore as a character! It's actually why my favourite chapters/moments so far are the backstory ones, or whenever he's reflecting on his relationship with widow. He's a bastard and I love him.
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songs i associate with redacted audio characters - speaker & listener edition
oh yeah baby, we back for round two
im not gonna include a singing voice claim for everyone this time around, but some of these might have them in there. also, im only doing three speaker characters this time around because im also including three listener characters. but, i will include four songs for the listener characters. just for funsies.
!! CW FOR SUI/ MENT !!
geordi
hate myself - dodie
; my poor sweet geordi. my little man. this song is far too relatable enough as is, but i have a feeling our resident tetris boy would relate very much to this song. specifically the chorus—“when you go quiet i hate myself” is almost literally about how geordi felt when he was first getting used to cutie’s silence. i can imagine how vulnerable it was for him. he’s getting better tho! which is exactly what i wanted!
voodoo doll - 5sos
; so a bit of a weirder pull for him, i like the idea that in the days after meeting and getting cutie’s number, his thoughts were just plagued with images of them in his mind. do i think they put them into his head? no, but this was early cutie, so it could have been possible. but i like the idea of one of geordi’s thoughts just going all conspiracy over why he kept thinking abt them.
wish me luck - wallows
; another sad one for our tetris boy, and this might even be sadder than the dodie song. i love wallows, theyre probably in my top fave artists, and all their songs are sooo good. this song just screams geordi to me. the genius lyric website says that this song is about “the narrator [is] asking for support and validation from a loved one during times of struggle and self-doubt, whilst talking alot about encouraging self-awareness and speaking out about inner conflicts and problems”, which. i mean. yeah, thats geordi and cutie alright! i imagined this when they were slowly starting to talk to each other again but were still really nervous about what the other would say.
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sam
leaving lonesome flats - dierks bentley
; so this song is. alright so its from the second trolls movie. BUT HEAR ME OUT OK. this is my sam singing voice claim and i think its damn near perfect. i would have done bentley's song “what was i thinking?” instead but i think the trolls song fits better. something about running and coming back, etc etc. listen, this song is just really good, and i think it makes sense for sam. that’s the only explanation i can give here dhsjdhjd
she keeps me up - nickleback
; i was not a fan of nickleback for a while, and now im kinda vibing with some of their songs, but this has such big sam and darlin' energy to me. like, look, darlin' is canonically hot as fuck (as confirmed by porter), and i really just think this song fits really well with their dynamic.
believe me - james and the shame
; so we're all in agreement that sam definitely has some kind of religious trauma (most likely catholic/christian) right? anyways, i only recently got into gmm last year, and when i heard this song i was like “there’s no shot that’s rhett from gmm”. knowing that rhett writes this from the perspective of someone healing from a religious past that was harmful was really empowering, and i think that it fits sam really well.
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blake
absinthe - idkhow
; this song is just cult leader energy. i know he isnt a cult leader really, but like. i mean. sometimes i think closeknit might see blake as some kind of deity or god to worship. but i can imagine blake lowkey liking having that kind of power for one reason or another.
how i’d kill - cowboy malfoy
; this to me suits blake because of the tone shift in the song. where it goes from slow and almost eerie to a bossa nova jazz type swing to it. to me, it reflects how blake is really like: the way he was around sunshine vs bestie, like in his “two sides to a yandere” audio.
if i killed someone for you - alec benjamin
; uh. well. i had this song on the playlist before the “for you” audio. and then the audio happened. so. blake-core i guess??
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darlin'
vampire - olivia rodrigo
; this is such an obvious fucking song to put for them but also i do not care it still fits. this is about quinn, obviously, and i think it especially hits hard after listening to their second vid with sam and how they mentioned finding another vamp that quinn had slept with. like, was this another manipulated vamp? this song just hits differently when you think about darlin'. and also, even if it’s overplayed, the song slaps.
paul revere - noah kahan
; there are definitely other noah kahan songs on my tank playlist, but this one is just such a good depiction of who they are. them coming back to dahlia, people recognizing them but them saying they’re not from dahlia, how dahlia doesn’t feel like home, like—something about that just really hits me in a way that i love.
howlin’ for you - the black keys
; this is my “darlin's go-to karaoke song” song. imagine them kinda drunk, feeling themself and having fun, singing this in front of their pack, and especially in front of sam. like it’s such a good song for them.
best friends - grandson
; this is here because in my little universe, darlin', david & asher were in a band as teens, and they covered this song. but also, this is such a teen!tank song. this was probably playing while they beat up tires in an abandoned parking lot. like i imagine david wasn’t as much a rule breaker as asher, milo, amanda, christian, & tank were, but you gotta admit their friend group were probably hellions in their own right.
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honey
disco man - remi wolf
; this is a good song that fits honey in my eyes. it’s sort of like about guy from honey’s perspective from earlier in their friendship/living situation. learning that the guy who won’t stop flirting with you with the cute smile is a creative writing major probably made honey regret crushing on him asjkgfhjks.
lego ring - faye webster & lil yachty
; ok this actually is inspired by oh, baby, baby by lovelylonerliterature because that is one of the best guy/honey fics i’ve read in a while, but i think honey learning to be softer and be a bit silly with it is so wonderful. also, i like the idea that guy would joke propose with something silly like a bread tie ring or a lego ring but honey would fully take it as a promise for the future and just break guy. what can i say, i like making our pizza boy flustered. and so do they.
“listen to your heart.” “no.” - cheekface
; this is just based on vibes. guy sings most of the song, honey only sings the “no” lines. i’m a genius.
soft bitch - rio romeo
; awww, honey you sap you! no but seriously, i imagine that honey often thinks about how much guy has changed them for the better. and they haaaaate it. y'know that one tiktok audio where someone’s like "he makes me smile—OH WHAT THE FUCK"? that was honey when they realized they had a crush on guy. and this song kind of embodies that too; honey isn't used to being sweet, but being with guy has made them into a sappy person, which they never thought they would be, and how much they actually enjoy it.
━━
freelancer
just existing - daysormay
; so not only is this my favorite song at the moment, this is also my freelancer theme song basically. the lyrics "it always took too long to learn how to slow down / chasing shortcuts and serotonin touchdowns" and "maybe i lost drive / i'm searching every day for relief / and chasing a break that i don't really need" feels like our resident (and chronic) overworking deviant. this also works when you think about freelancer singing this and each of the verses matching with one of the D.A.M.N. crew boys.
my body - young the giant
; a song about feeling the need to overwork yourself to get better at something because you have a fear of failure and falling behind, in my freelancer playlist? how ridiculous! /j no but in all seriousness this song is a perfect depiction of their need to keep pushing, keep working, to be perfect. i think even when they know they’re good at something, they have to be better. they need to be better to prove themself.
empty bed - cavetown
; so this is a bit more of a depressing and sad song for freelancer, but one i think still makes sense. this reminds me of early s3!freelancer, still healing from the inversion and terrified of everyone they love going away. how they grew up, how they hide their pain as best they can so they don’t bother anyone with their problems, but how they dont want their friends to deal with that kind of pain. how they don't want the D.A.M.N. crew to be in pain, but was so hesitant to let the others know their own pain.
babyface - artio
; so i found out abt artio recently, and when i looked them up on tiktok and saw the lead singer, rae, i immediately said “oh, that's crow!” (for those who dont know, crow is the name of my freelancer-sona). this is very specifically for my freelancer-sona, but i think it stills works for canon!freelancer. how their people pleaser tendencies can make them so quick to change themself for others but how they’ve slowly grown to be more confident in themself.
━━━━
this took. far too long hdsjhd
i am still considering sharing my spotify link on here, so if you want to see which of the redacted audio character playlists are on the app, pls let me know!
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Eliel Cruz for Teen Vogue:
When I was a teenager in the early aughts, conversion therapists reigned supreme in evangelical Christian spaces, spewing pseudo-scientific techniques as a supposed “remedy” for LGBTQ identities. Growing up in the Seventh-day Adventist church and school system, LGBTQ identities were vilified and demonized at the pulpit and in our classrooms. The answer to our sexualities, according to the church, was to deny ourselves love or a partner, stay celibate, or to work on “changing” our sexuality so that we were no longer queer. There were groups and conferences with self-proclaimed “ex-gay” speakers providing testimonies about how they “overcame” their sexuality and therapists eager to “help” others pursue the same path.
According to a Williams Institute report, 7% of LGB adults ages 18 to 59 in the United States have undergone conversion therapy. About 81% of those individuals were in “therapy” with religious leaders, which heightened suicidal thoughts and ideation in comparison to LGB people who have not gone through conversion “therapy” practices. Across the globe, these numbers fluctuate between 2% all the way up to 34% of LGBTQ+ people having undergone conversion practices. By the mid-2010s, these groups and their influence began to dwindle as national organizations like Exodus International, one of the longest-running and largest ex-gay organizations, shuttered its doors after 37 years, admitting that not only did conversion or reparative therapy not work, it was harmful to the LGBTQ people subjected to it. Former Exodus International President Alan Chambers said: "I am sorry for the pain and hurt many of you have experienced. I am sorry that some of you spent years working through the shame and guilt you felt when your attractions didn't change,” admitting his own attractions to men had not gone away, despite being married to a woman and having children.
The closing of Exodus International signaled the end of a decades-long push for ex-gay therapy, or so it would seem. But in recent years, as legislation has passed across the country to ban conversion therapy for youth, a new push for so-called “change therapy” has re-emerged with the same flawed premise and tactics of the ex-gays of old. A group called Changed Movement, formed in response to legislation banning conversion therapy in California, is one such group using new language to promote the same-old conversion therapy. Conversion or reparative therapy, loosely defined, is any attempt to influence and change someone’s sexual orientation or gender identity. Often, these counselors blame trauma or violence, family dynamics, or your upbringing as the root of the deviant sexuality or gender identity. Changed Movement shares stories of individuals blaming these roots as the cause of their sexuality or gender. This assertion is false and only serves to shame the individual, often for reasons beyond their control. Importantly, ex-gay groups like the Changed Movement do not seem to reckon with the fluidity of sexuality and gender and, as proponents of this ideology typically do, seemingly view things as either gay or straight, trans or cisgender.
[...] In a report by the Trevor Project, researchers found at least 1,320 conversion therapy practitioners in almost all 50 states, including states with active conversion therapy bans for minors. Almost half of those counselors are unlicensed, and most are attached to some sort of religious ministry. While couching their language and pretending to be there to help LGBTQ people, the danger of these groups and practitioners cannot be understated.
Recently, an ex-gay group called Coming Out Ministries bought a building across from my alma mater, Andrews University, a Seventh-day Adventist University, intending to “work closely” with the university on LGBTQ issues “from a redemptive perspective.” Groups like Changed Movement and Coming Out Ministries see LGBTQ young people’s identities as “confusion” instead of who they are intrinsically. Their ideology stems from a theological understanding of sexuality that does not take into account science or the world as it exists around them. Anti-LGBTQ theology fuels conversion therapy, and it’s not only flawed but also inherently harmful and violent. As a queer person of faith, I reject theology and religious practices that cause harm, as it is not from God. The history and devastating impacts of ex-gay practices are clear in the irreparable damage it has caused to large swathes of the LGBTQ community raised in religious settings.
Eliel Cruz writes in Teen Vogue the changing history of anti-LGBTQ+/anti-trans medical pseudoscience practice of conversion therapy.
#Conversion Therapy#Ex Gay#LGBTQ+#Transgender#Religion#Changed Movement#Exodus International#Coming Out Ministries
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By: Paul Garcia-Ryan
Published: Apr 18, 2024
Paul Garcia-Ryan is the board president of Therapy First.
A comprehensive review commissioned by England’s National Health Service, released last week, found that gender transition medical treatment for children and young people has been built on “shaky foundations,” with “remarkably weak” evidence. The independent study — led by physician Hilary Cass, the former president of the Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health — incorporates multiple systematic reviews “to provide the best available collation of published evidence,” as well as interviews with clinicians, parents and young people, in reaching its conclusions.
Referring to young people who have already been treated under these dubious circumstances, such as those at the Tavistock Centre’s now-closed Gender Identity Development Service, Cass wrote, “They deserve very much better.”
In the wake of the Cass Review’s release — which has rocked the British medical and media establishment, and might soon reverberate in the United States — many are asking how we got here. How did clinicians come to recommend the use of puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones to thousands of children and adolescents when there was insufficient evidence that these treatments were safe and effective?
Part of the reason is that “the toxicity of the debate is exceptional,” as Cass notes in her foreword: “There are few other areas of healthcare where professionals are so afraid to openly discuss their views, where people are vilified on social media, and where name-calling echoes the worst bullying behaviour. This must stop.”
I know all too well how the absence of good-faith, healthy debate on this subject can affect clinicians and patients. When I was 15, a therapist affirmed my conviction that I was born in the wrong body. After more than a decade of hormonal and surgical interventions, I detransitioned at age 30. I had come to realize that my transition was motivated by my difficulty reconciling with being gay. Today, I am a licensed clinical social worker and board president of Therapy First, formerly the Gender Exploratory Therapy Association, a nonprofit organization that advocates psychotherapy as a first-line treatment for youth gender dysphoria.
Usually in psychotherapy, treatment approaches are refined and improved by vigorous discussion, research and dissemination of new information. When it comes to youth gender treatments, though, professionals who raise concerns have been censored and subjected to reputational damage, threats to their license and doxing. As a result, countless gender nonconforming young people have been badly served.
Therapy First has been the target of silencing and intimidation efforts. Now with a professional membership of more than 300 clinicians based in 36 states and 14 countries, we are joined in our concern regarding the quality of mental health care provided to gender dysphoric youth. Even though the organization is apolitical and non-religious, with many of our members being LGBT, we have been falsely linked to the religious right. Despite being strongly opposed to conversion therapy, or trying to change someone’s sexual orientation or gender identity, we have been accused of practicing it.
What I’ve learned is that therapists who cite the poor quality of evidence in support of medical interventions for youth gender dysphoria, or who advocate traditional principles of psychotherapy in this area, are likely to be vilified — sometimes by fellow clinicians. Last week alone, eight complaints were filed against one of our members’ licenses by other therapists for simply posting, on a professional Listserv, the link to one of our organization’s webinars, on trauma-informed mind-body practices.
An activist website has labeled our therapists as part of the “global anti-transgender movement” and listed details from their personal lives, including the names of their children and other family members. Last month in London, the Telegraph reported, a medical conference that explored evidence and heard from seasoned therapists and doctors regarding the treatment of gender dysphoria was interrupted by masked protesters who set off a smoke bomb and attempted to force their way into the building.
In addition to worrying about activists outside the consulting room, therapists apparently must now also be concerned about whether their patients are wielding hidden cameras. This month, an undercover video recording of a therapy session was posted online, presenting the clinician as a practitioner of conversion therapy, yet the would-be video sting merely revealed a clinician engaged in normal therapeutic exploration. In the current climate, any therapeutic response other than immediate affirmation is considered transphobic.
It isn’t right that professionals must risk their livelihood and reputation to help young people struggling with gender dysphoria. If the culture of bullying persists, I fear that fewer clinicians with a developmental approach will be inclined to keep working with this population. These young people will be left with clinicians who aren’t following the science, many with good intentions, but others who might behave more like activists than mental health professionals.
The Cass Review made clear that the evidence supporting medical interventions in youth gender dysphoria is utterly insufficient, and that alternative approaches, such as psychotherapy, need to be encouraged. Only then will gender-questioning youth be able to get the help they need to navigate their distress.
[ Via: https://archive.today/83ZJa ]
#Paul Garcia Ryan#Ben Appel#Bernard Lane#Cass Review#Cass Report#medical corruption#medical scandal#medical malpractice#gender ideology#gender identity ideology#queer theory#intersectional feminism#gender cult#religion is a mental illness
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Remedy
Religious trauma, ableism, suicidal character etc ahead. Mind the tags.
Rich blood and chamomile thickened the still air around the gallows tree. Teg emerged into the vastness of the flower field, lit eerily by the aurora borealis above. The stars felt tangible here, bright against a wash of purples and blues and electric green. And there above, its gnarled roots pushing greedily into the fertile ground, was the monstrous living thing, its twisted limbs grasping at the sky.
She limped forward. There was something waiting in that tree, and the only thing for it was to cross the ocean of chamomile. She could rest against the trunk, close her eyes, perhaps sleep, even though it was bitterly cold. She was in no more than jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket.
‘Closer, child,’ said a voice. It appeared, to her astonishment, to be the tree itself, beckoning her forward. It wasn’t so far, she told herself. Then she could rest. Her approach seemed to make the tree grow brighter, whether from the aurora or its own strange essence, she could not know. Teg shivered. It was unnerving, ghostly.
‘I don’t want to,’ she found herself saying aloud. ‘And I’m not a child.’ ‘What we want and what we need are often in conflict with one another.’ Well, that’s true, she thought, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. She limped on, reaching out a hand to brace against the bough. She wanted to sink to the soft ground; her legs ached from hip to ankle, nothing with teeth but rather a persistent pressure in muscle and bone. ‘Need rest,’ she said shortly, lacking the energy for further speech.
‘Up,’ said the voice again.
‘Huh?’ She looked up and saw nothing.
‘Climb.’
‘You’re bloody mad, and I’m fucking tired,’ she said, but knew she must. Reaching up high, she closed her hands on a low branch and heaved herself up, her feet almost losing purchase. Lunging, she scrabbled for another branch, feeling panic throb in her throat. ‘I’m going to fall—'
‘Have faith.’
‘Hah, good one. I don’t fucking think so.’
He ignored that. ‘Open your eyes and don’t look down. I am not far.’
Fuck you, she thought. Her feet slipped on the branch below, but she pushed on, and up. There, tangled in the branches, a body. Teg whimpered in terror even as she came eye to eye with the wizened old man. She was standing, she realised with a lurch, on a broad branch, unaided. Speared in its gnarled fingers, the man hung limp, his wounds weeping blood from shoulders and thighs. His eyes were closed. ‘I’m here,’ she whispered. Her knees trembled. She was going to fall any moment. ‘What do I do?’
‘Listen,’ said the man softly.
‘But—'
‘Hush, Dottir.’ He turned his face to her. She screamed. His left eye was still closed, but his right had been gouged out, and in its place was a mass of dark blood, half congealed, weeping onto his pale cheek.
‘Are you dying?’ she asked hoarsely, swallowing the bile in her throat.
‘I cannot die.’ His living eye opened, sharp and shrewd. Teg took a shallow breath, her skin tingling uncomfortably under scrutiny, but she glared back, unyielding.
‘They told me God would heal me.’
He laughed. The sound was so strong it sent a flock of ravens to wing, and so caustic that she felt the heat of shame rise in her cheeks. ‘I think you know, Dottir, that the faith your family holds is not the faith in your heart. Your soul will not ascend to their Heaven.’ The eye narrowed. ‘It will come to Valhalla.’
‘Nobody dies in battle anymore,’ she said, before she could stop herself.
‘Constant pain is a battle, is it not?’ The eye twinkled, and his lips pulled back in a smile. His teeth were bloody.
She didn’t feel like a warrior at all. He watched, calculating, then spat a glob of blood to the ground below. ‘I suppose,’ she said. ‘Everyone else minimis-‘
‘Fuck everyone else,’ he said. ‘You don’t follow everyone else.’ He shifted horribly, his wounds squelching with new blood and torn muscle. ‘You were born with the fighter’s flame inside you, and you would extinguish it with the pail of victimhood?’ He snarled, wolfish. ‘You will not.’
‘They wanted a cure.’
‘And they will not get it! It is never so easy, child, and this you will come to know! No, your lot will be to suffer, and gain wisdom from your suffering, and you must endure it, lest my hall close its doors to you.’
‘What if I don’t want to go to Valhalla?’ she asked, her voice suddenly strong, snapping in the still air like a whip. ‘What if I don’t want to do what you tell me to? What if I want to forge my own path, old man?’
‘That spirit is what makes you a warrior. Perhaps your very instinct to rebel will lead you to my door.’
She looked to the ground far below and shivered.
‘Do you fear, Dottir?’
She did. She knew he knew that. ‘Yes.’
‘Good. Fear will serve you, so long as you never become its slave.’ There was a silence then, stretching out into the fields of chamomile below, around them into the stars. She thought maybe she could hear the northern lights in their slow dance above. And then, with no small measure of amusement, the hanged man said, ‘jump.’
‘What?’ Her voice cracked, wavering with panic, its heat flooding her from fingertip to toe. Trembling and barely able to take a breath around the fear constricting her throat, she whipped her head to the side, to see if he was joking. His one good eye was hard as steel.
‘Jump.’
‘No!’
‘What did you say to me, Dottir?’
She sucked in a breath. ‘I said no.’
The eye narrowed. He contemplated this, the Allfather, and frowned. ‘Not many would dare say no to me, child, and least of all a mortal woman.’
‘Yeah, well,’ she said, trying to feign nonchalance even as her throat seemed to close up in fear. ‘I’m not most people, mate.’ She laughed, a high pitched, desperate cackle. ‘Can’t have any power over a dead girl.’
‘You’re not dead,’ he said softly.
‘No, but I want to be, and that means I hold the cards, old man.’ She grinned, wide eyed, the whites stark against the night sky. ‘I could step off this branch right here and hit the ground and what could you do about it? You’re stuck there.’ She walked backwards blindly, feeling the branch bow slightly beneath her feet.
‘But you won’t.’
‘I should!’ she shrieked. ‘Maybe everyone would fucking leave me alone!’ Teg paused, shaking violently, and realised with a jolt that she was crying. ‘I don’t want to go home.’ She bit her lip hard, drawing blood. ‘Don’t make me.’
There was no response from the hanged man. Instead, the whoosh of great wings cut the silence, and in a moment she had been seized by the arms and lifted into the air. She screamed as they dove for the flowers below and released her, alive. Their talons had sunk deep, her blood oozing in rivulets down her arms. The hanged man was still laughing; she could see him, and even at this distance sensed that haunting eye on her. The scent of chamomile and blood made a heady cocktail in her nose. She tore up fists of flowers, scrabbling to cling to the dream, and slipped into the waking world.
‘AAAH!’ Waking with her heart pounding, tangled in sweaty sheets, it took a second or two for the pain to set in. There were the usual, duller pains in back and shoulder, the uncomfortable ache in her knees, but above them a sharper, brighter pain in the upper arms. For the first time, she noticed blood on the sheets, spots and specks. Then she noted, in a slightly panicked haze, the rivulets of blood. Thin red lines had been gouged into her upper arms. ‘M-must’ve done it in my sleep,’ Teg muttered, trembling. ‘N-not real. Just a dream. Wasn’t- wasn’t real.’
Listening, she heard only silence. She had expected, somehow, for her mum to bustle into the room, gather her up and clean her wounds, for her dad to plonk a cup of tea in front of her with a tender smile, but she was alone. She was alone, and her mother had never been as loving as she was in the imagination. Her dad was dead. She’d been alone for a long time, but in these moments, bitterness and exhaustion sank into her gut like the river stones she would skip with him as a child. Fumbling for the baby wipes on her bedside table, she dabbed tentatively at her wounds, pressing her lips together to prevent tears from falling and failing, sobbing quietly into the dark.
‘Get up,’ she said aloud. ‘Three, two…’ pressing her hand into the wall she dragged herself out of bed. Now that she was on her feet, the dull pains sharpened a little. ‘Going to rain.’ Stop pretending you have company, she thought. It’s pathetic.
Hobbling to the kitchen, Teg leaned on the door frame and sagged in despair. It was spartan, had no homely touch. What’s the point? It’s not mine and never will be. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, crusted over with dry food she just didn’t have the energy to clean. Sinking down with a groan of relief into the wheeled office chair she used on a bad pain day, she scooted over to the full kettle, flipped it on, and wheeled to the fridge. Opening it and examining the almost bare shelves, she shrugged and retrieved an apple that didn’t seem to be gently rotting. Crunching on it as she waited, the heaviness of fatigue settled into her bones. ‘Fuck, I can’t do this.’
Nobody answered, nobody was coming to her rescue. ‘Fat lot of good you are, Teg.’ Hauling herself up, she made her tea and, pointedly ignoring the full rubbish bin, limped into the living room to sit heavily on the sofa. It would be so easy to just stay here forever, she thought. Among the takeaway wrappers and coffee cups she would not have to perform for anyone. There was no pull to do anything at all; the rubbish did not bother her as it once would have. The only thing she cared about when she had energy even to care at all, was her pain level. These days, pain was her only constant. She sat and stared and felt nothing except the rage of her body against itself.
The light through the slats in her blinds gave everything a soft glow. The grease on the takeaway cartons shimmered, and the dust motes could have been made of gold. Even her drawn face might look alive, if she cared enough to turn it to the sun. The quiet sank into everything, and she wondered dispassionately if this was the peace of death. Her eyes found the open, half packed duffel bag and wheeled luggage. It looked shiny and new. They were, in truth; she’d had nowhere to go and nothing to look forward to for so long that she’d had to buy them for the trip. Staring dispassionately for a few seconds, she suddenly sprung to her feet, then cursed as pain rocketed through her bones. ‘The trip! The fucking trip, packing- ugh! Teg you useless fuck-‘
A sharp rap rap rap at the front door made her jump. The ever-present muscle tension sent shocks through her body and she winced, involuntarily throwing her hands up. Tea, thankfully cold now, sloshed over her already slightly grubby pyjamas Absurdly, tears welled unbidden. ‘Fuck.’ She tipped her head back, trying to force them down. Rising and leaning on the wall, she struggled into the hall, dripping tea on the linoleum and snatched a jacket off the coat hook, pulling it on to hide the bloody tracks on her arms. Steeling herself, she opened the door, shielding her body behind it as though anticipating frontal attack.
‘Well, are you ready?’ asked her mother, bulling her way in before Teg could answer.
‘Hi, Mum.’ There was a slightly charged pause. In a normal family, this is when I’d hug you. ‘I wasn’t expecting-’
‘Look at the state of you,’ she interrupted, sucking her teeth. ‘When’s the last time you had a shower? Did the laundry? Those pyjamas are disgusting, the smell of this place, my goodness, and- oh!’ She had spotted the scattered wrappers and cups in the living room. ‘Did I raise you in a pigsty? What’s this? And you’re not even packed!’
‘I… I meant to do it earlier. I just forgot.’
‘Forgot?! What must your friends think? Get a move on, quickly!’
‘I don’t have many friends,’ she lied, her cheeks reddening. The urge to cry intensified.
‘No, and no wonder,’ came the caustic, matter-of-fact response. In comparison, she was immaculate, never seen without perfect makeup and well-cut clothing that hung off her thin frame in a way that was desirable to other people. She wore a skirt suit in a tasteful shade of pink; the tea rose lipstick and nails were matching. The tumble of curls around her head had been freshly dyed, too.
‘Do you want some tea?’ her daughter asked tonelessly.
‘Don’t be silly. Find some clean clothes to pack and get dressed, we’re going to be late for the airport, you know I like to get there early. And brush your teeth, ugh.’ She pushed her towards the stairs, somewhat forcefully.
‘Airport?’
‘Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.’
‘I have,’ she lied. ‘Where are we going?’
‘The holiday to France? That nice friend of yours Rhiannon is meeting us at the airport. Honestly. You’d think you had memory issues.’
‘I do. See, it’s part of the neurological condition I have. You know, cerebral palsy? Where your brain is literally damaged? It’s kind of in the name. Cerebral.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
'I’m just fucking with you.’
‘Don’t. Swear.’
‘Okay.’ Gripping the banister tightly, she ignored the tutting and bustling downstairs. She brushed her teeth mindlessly, hobbled into her room, and tugged at her hair in frustration. ‘Packing. Fucking bane of my life.’ She grabbed fistfuls of clothes and threw them on the bed, shoving underwear, jeans, and tops into a carrier bag she found on the floor. Now what the fuck do I wear to the airport?’ Riffling through her wardrobe, she examined a navy blazer critically, shrugged and moved on. ‘Absolutely fuck no to a dress. Maybe this.’ She settled on a pair of khaki shorts and paired it with a plain black vest, leather jacket, and boots. Shedding the pyjamas and changing into clean underwear, her chosen ensemble, and mismatched socks, she spotted the unworn heels in the back of the wardrobe and felt her stomach sink. They’d been a gift from her mother the previous Christmas, and she hardly had the strength to voice once again that if she wore them, she might break her neck. Dressed and comfortable, she took a breath and surveyed the messy room, hand on forehead.
‘What’s taking so long?’
‘Christ mum, can’t you knock?’
‘Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain! And hurry up! We’re going to be late!’ Pushing past Teg, she swooped down for the heels. ‘Wear these.’
‘Mum, I’ve already told you, I can’t-‘
‘Oh you will make excuses. Don’t be silly. Put them on.’ There was a brief pause. ‘Is that blood on your sheets?’
‘I’ll deal with it.’
Narrowing her eyes and pushing her glasses up her beak-like nose, she squinted at the bedside. ‘And- are those pills?!’
‘No.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Tegen Maria. What are they?’
‘None of your goddamn business is what they are.’
‘Aha, you are lying!’ Grinning somewhat nastily, she lunged across the bloodstained bed and snatched up the box. ‘Antidepressants? What are you doing child, putting that poison in the body God gave you?’
‘Yeah, well, some of us have to cope.’
Her mother tsked in disgust. ‘Stop taking those. And clean this up,’ she said, gesturing at the sheets.
‘I’ll deal with it later.’
‘You told me you weren’t self-harming.’
‘I was telling the truth.’
‘I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now. Change the shoes.’
Choking down hot fury, she did as she was told. The heels pinched her toes and bit against the back of her feet. She tried standing and wobbled slightly.
‘Better. Passable, though you could stand to lose some weight. That vest’s too small. It doesn’t flatter you. You’d feel so much better about yourself if you were thinner, darling. Come on.’
‘I thought you said God doesn’t make mistakes.’
Huffing, her mum turned and clomped noisily down the stairs. Teg followed with some difficulty, her limp more pronounced. Idly, she wondered if this was how she would die: trying to navigate stairs in heels and a disabled body. She managed it without incident, however. Without ceremony, she shoved the bag of clothes into her luggage, sat on it to zip it shut, and swung the duffel over her shoulder. At the last minute, she snatched her cane as she went out the door, before hobbling painfully to the Audi and sliding into the passenger seat with some difficulty and much relief.
‘Off we go then.’ Teg raised a brow, leaning back as her mother put the key in the ignition and the car purred. ‘To France! Isn’t it lovely?’ Glancing over, she raised a brow. ‘What do you have that thing for?’
‘My cane? Um. I kind of need it?’
‘Darling, don’t be silly. Why don’t you go and put it back? I’ll wait.’
‘No.’
‘Tegen—’
‘I said no, mum. I have bad pain days. I need it.’
‘But it’s so unsightly.’ She sighed. ‘Have it your way then. I’m sure it will be a lovely trip, regardless.’
‘Yes, wonderful. Positively smashing.’
‘Wilful child.’ She drove smoothly, sticking to the speed limit and maintaining an air of unsettling calm. When they were some distance from the flat, she spoke again. ‘Now, don’t get mad at me.’
‘Okay Mum,’ she said in a falsely cheery tone. ‘We’ll just have a nice holiday, how about that?’
‘It’s going to be very healing, I think. For all of us.’
***
The airport was as boring and as stressful as it ever was; the buzz of holiday excitement and vague sense of panic could not erase the strange sterility of the place. It was clinical, liminal. Teg became lost inside her own head, imagining herself as a liminal place, as this airport. The people floating around in it like thoughts, the expectations and reality side by side in a wretched tableau of longing and disappointment.
‘Teg!’ said a voice, and suddenly all the warmth of everything came crashing back; she was awake.
‘Rhi,’ she said, careful only to touch her in a way her mother would approve of. ‘Hey.’ Help me, her eyes pleaded silently. She’s been a nightmare. Rhi reached out and briefly squeezed her hand. Even that sent butterflies exploding in her chest.
‘It’s so kind of you to invite me, Mrs O’Sullivan. Thank you, again.’
‘Oh, think nothing of it, Rhiannon dear. Your mother’s a good Christian woman, I know I could trust you to come along and support Tegen. And thank God for you.’ She turned away, walking briskly towards security.
‘God forbid you see her gratitude, Rhi.’
‘Mum’s a good Christian woman, did you know? I sure as fuck didn’t.’
‘Hah. Well. We’re all going to Hell together then, I guess.’
‘Shit. Is it too late to become a heathen instead?’ She nudged her and winked. ‘We could just, I dunno…’
‘Elope?’
‘Is that a proposal?’
‘Do you want it to be?’
‘Girls, hurry up!’ Mrs O’Sullivan was frantic, waving at them from across the lobby. Grinning at each other, they ran to catch up.
When they made it through security and onto the plane, Teg leaned against Rhi’s shoulder. It stopped her from shifting uncomfortably in her seat, wringing sweaty hands, envisioning the crash and burn.
‘I know you hate flying, but it’s not long. And your mum is asleep.’
‘Thank God.’
***
They stepped off the plane into glorious heat and the smell of a new country. Teg smiled, listening to Rhi talk enthusiastically about the patisserie, about Parisian breakfasts of café au lait and pain au chocolat, and macarons in neat little expensive boxes from that one bakery they saw on social media constantly.
They moved through security a second time, the girls taking pains to be a few steps behind Teg’s mother. Even the oppressive sameness of Passport Control could not dampen their spirits. ‘Stupid isn’t it,’ she said, ‘I didn’t even ask her where we were going. I’m just glad to be here.’
‘Wouldn’t be glad if I weren’t gracing you with my presence though, would you?’
‘No,’ she said seriously. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Thought not,’ said Rhi, winking.
‘Yeah well,’ she said quietly. I love you.
‘Quick, we’re going to be late for the hire car!’ Her mother was waiting with her bags, vibrating with frantic energy.
‘The luggage hasn’t come through for us yet!’ Teg called. ‘Why she can’t just wait like the rest of us. ‘Patience is a virtue,’ and all that.’
‘Here they are.’ Rhi lifted the bags and hurried off at pace, with Teg trotting to keep up.
‘Oi, come back! Let me take my bag!’
‘I’m being chivalrous!’
‘But chivalry is dead!’
‘Oh, shit, yeah,’ said Rhi, slowing and thrusting a luggage handle at her. ‘You have to be a proper feminist and haul your own luggage, I guess.’ They weaved through the crowd and she waved when they came out the other side. ‘Hey Mrs O’Sullivan, sorry.’
‘I nearly drove away without you!’
‘Yeah well, we’re here now, aren’t we?’ said Teg pointedly. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Oh, it’s a surprise. We’ll stop off for coffee and a pastry when we get there.’
Teg and Rhi exchanged glances. ‘Can you give us a clue, at least?’
‘That would just spoil it, Tegen. This experience is a special one. I don’t want to ruin it for you.’
‘Well, if you insist,’ she said, partly grumpy, but feeling content for the first time in a while. The French air smelled sweet and exotic to her, and she had visions of visiting Versailles, of running away to secret rooms and stealing perfumed French kisses.
‘Hey, daydreamer,’ said Rhi softly. ‘Franc for your thoughts?’ Teg smirked and shook her head. ‘Well, alright, if you must keep your secrets. Have it your way.’
The car was finally slowing. It was still only morning, but they got out with heavy, warm limbs.
‘It’s like a fairytale, Mrs O’Sullivan.’
‘This is not a fairytale, Rhiannon. This is real, the most real thing you girls will ever know.’
Teg rubbed her eyes sleepily and cocked her head. She had a niggling feeling, as though recognising the spires and the ornate stonework. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I feel like I’ve seen this before. Have we been here, Mum?’
‘No,’ she said, though she seemed to be brimming over with emotion. ‘No, but now we are. Finally.’
Rhi tugged on her sleeve. ‘I’ve seen this. In a picture book. One of those ones they let us read at school.’
They began walking, soaking in the Frenchness of it all, and then Teg froze. She turned to her mother, opening her mouth to speak, but was ushered forcefully away from the main street before she could say anything. They were in a crooked little alley, barely wide enough for one person. In the bright shade, Mrs O’Sullivan’s panic was clear.
‘Right. Let’s get coffee first. Where do you want to go?’ Her voice was too chirpy, too high pitched.
‘You brought us,’ she said slowly, barely suppressing rage, ‘to Lourdes?’ Her hands curled into trembling fists.
‘Yes, well, I thought it would be nice, you know. Healing. It’s very calm, when you see the waters—'
‘Fuck. You.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Beg then,’ she snarled. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re fucking playing at, you harpy.’
‘Do explain my girl, because I have all the time in the world. The amount I have sacrificed for you, Tegen Maria. When you were born, they wouldn’t let me hold you, do you know that? They put you in a plastic box and told me to wait, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.’
‘I thought you said not to swear.’
‘I went to the chapel, and I sat there, and I prayed for you. I prayed so hard, day and night. I asked Mother Mary to make you whole and healthy.’
‘Let me guess, She didn’t.’
‘Tegen, I love you.’
‘That’s not love. That’s fucked.’
‘If you bathe in the waters— if you go— you could go to Heaven. You could be with me and your father in Heaven.’
‘Fucking Christ, no thanks.’
‘Teg, it’s not worth it,’ whispered Rhi. ‘Come on.’ She tugged on her sleeve.
‘You can’t just leave!’
‘I fucking can. Watch me.’ She glared. ‘Well done. You were such a shit parent you managed to lose your only daughter while on holiday. I trust you’ll be able to pay for your own fare home.’ With that, she turned and stomped away, waving her arm to hail a taxi.
‘I have money,’ said Rhi confidently as one slowed to let them in and they got in the back. ‘Billère, s'il vous plaît,’ The taxi pulled away from the curb. ‘We can book a hotel. Have a proper romantic holiday.’
‘Let’s go to Versailles,’ said Teg. ‘Tomorrow, or whenever. I don’t care if it’s a day’s train ride. I don’t care.’
‘Coffee and croissants first, babe.’
‘Yeah. Sure.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Their fingers were entwined, and Teg examined them. Somehow, she always felt delicate under her girlfriend’s hands. ‘I know it hurts.’
‘Fuck her. I’m her kid.’ She felt hot tears rush to the surface and brim over. ‘She hates me that much? Am I really that unlovable to her?’
‘She doesn’t see it that way.’
‘Never does though, does she?’
‘I know. But you’re not wrong or defective, alright? You don’t need to be fixed. I love you, disability and all.’ She stroked her arm, soothing. C’mon. Get some sleep.’
‘You’re a fucking angel.’ Teg leaned against her shoulder, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. In moments, the movement of the car and Rhi’s steady breathing had lulled her to sleep.
When she woke again, they were entering Billère. Rhi leaned forward and spoke to the driver. ‘Laissez-nous sortir là, s'il vous plait.’ She paid, chivvied Teg out of the taxi and twirled. ‘Behold, Billère! That way, mountains! This way, freedom!’ Grabbing Teg’s hand, she dragged her into town. ‘Gotta be a hotel close by. Eyes peeled, ma chérie.’ ‘I thought we were doing coffee.’ ‘We are. Just trying to be prepared.’ ‘At least one of us is.’ ‘Hah. Well, here’s a café over there now. Let’s go.’ She led her by the hand, laughing in the sunlight. It was quaint and beautiful, just like they had imagined, and when they went in and ordered food and drink, they basked in the newness of it. ‘This isn’t how I imagined our first holiday going, I’ll be honest.’ ‘Oh, it’s just beginning,’ said Rhi with a wink. She nodded, knowing that more tears and guilt would come later, in the dark when she could not sleep. Right now though, she could hardly bring herself to care. Rhi was positively vivacious, full of joie de vivre; her red hair spilled around her like a fall of sunset water, and her full blushing cheeks reminded her of windfall apples. And she loved her.
***
That night, in their sweetly decorated hotel room accented with fresh lavender, she cried. What was different this time, in this strange land, in the balmy night and open windows, was the arms that held her. She had cried alone so often she had forgotten what it was like to sob into someone else’s shirt, to ruefully apologise, to want to burst with gratitude. She had removed her jacket, and Rhi had kissed her wounds. ‘You know it’s going to be alright.’ Rhi rubbed her back tenderly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘It will. I promise. You can do this. You’re strong as hell, you know that?’ ‘Still love her, even though she’s fucking infuriating. She’s still my mum.’ ‘I know, babe. But you deserve better.’ ‘Do I?’ she felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘I dunno if I do.’ ‘Hey,’ said Rhi, pulling back to hold her face, thumbs stroking away her tears. ‘You fucking deserve good things, okay? Don’t bullshit yourself into thinking otherwise. If nothing else, you’ve got me, whether you like it or not. Got it?’ ‘Alright, alright. Got it.’ ‘Good. Here.’ She reached over to the bedside table they had cluttered with their things and extracted a makeup wipe. Teg dabbed at her face. ‘Bet I look disgusting.’ ‘The red nose look is hot. Girls will be falling over themselves for you.’ ‘Fuck off.’ ‘Hehe.’ ‘Seriously though,’ said Teg, frowning passionately. ‘I love you. And if I wasn’t so gross right now, I’d kiss you to prove it.’
‘I don’t care what you look like,’ said Rhi, sliding a hand into Teg’s hair and pulling her forward into a soft, sweetly perfumed kiss.
***
The gallows tree was gone. Fields of chamomile stretched endlessly, and the silence settled around her like a cloak. She breathed the sweet unbloodied air. No rest now. A blast shuddered somewhere too close, the unmistakable sound of a hunting horn. It seemed to wake the atmosphere, a frisson of anticipation rippling out into the expanse. Against the stars she saw them, the great ravens. They wheeled, coasting on empty air, waiting patiently for blood. Then, thunder. It grew, pressing against her ears until it was nearly too much to bear. And out of the sky on an eight-legged horse, rode the man she’d seen dying and bloody before. Behind him, the Aesir gathered for battle. She barely spared them a glance. ‘Dottir,’ said Odin, voice booming. ‘It’s kind of you to join us.’ ‘Not like I had a choice,’ she said, the fear of their previous encounter gone. ‘You fucking tricked me.’ ‘Educated,’ he said, the blue eye twinkling. ‘Bastard.’ ‘I was right though, child. You did not lay down and die.’ Not for lack of trying, she wanted to say. ‘Not giving my mother the satisfaction.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘They’re coming, all your enemies. Best draw your sword, old man.’ She turned and walked away.
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Secrets, Secrets are no fun
Prompt: The eldest of the seven sins has kept a lot of secrets. Some due to duty, some to appease his brothers. But behind closed doors, they eat away at him. Especially when it has to do with the one person he lost. Thankfully, a certain human is there to listen, and to help.
Pairing: NA
Genre: Angst
TW: Sad Luci hours, mention of drinking, angst, a lot of angst, some flashbacks, Michael being an a**hole again, my hatred for Celestial Realm and some religious trauma is shown here. It’s a bit of a long read as well, so…
So apparently, my brain’s decided that the big man upstairs is a jerk in the game, and now it won’t think of literally anything else. What brought about this thought? Well, I just remembered that they don’t really specify what kind of illness Lilith’s lover had had for her to risk her life and bring him Celestial fruit to heal him. What if the origins of the disease were… Celestial?
It was a quiet night in the Devildom. Silence stretched throughout the House of Lamentation, where a sliver of moonlight entered through glass windows and danced across hallways that seemed devoid of life. Not a sound could be heard; even the wind ceased its merciless hits against the old house for one night.
Lucifer hated these kinds of nights.
Silence was almost unheard of in the House of Lamentation, home to the seven Avatars of Sin. The strongest demons in existence had equally strong personalities. There was never a dull day in the life of the seven brothers, neither before nor after the fall. And in a weird way, Lucifer was grateful for that. Being caught up in his brothers’ shenanigans meant he wouldn’t be left to his thoughts. For his thoughts, the eldest quickly found out, weren’t exactly the most pleasant place to dwell in.
How long had it been that way, he wondered, staring at the golden liquid that sloshed around in the glass that he held. The surface of the liquid reflected his flushed face, nose and cheeks tinted a shade of red only Demonus, and more recently, the human who’d managed to master him could bring out.
“Lucifer?”
Speak of the human, and they shall appear. Crimson eyes looked up, only to meet a pair of (e/c) eyes. Lucifer looked at them as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes with one hand, the other holding the corners of the blanket that they had draped on their shoulders. Their hair stuck up in all directions, the sight bringing a small smile to the eldest’s face. Then again, their very existence brought a smile to his face.
“What are you doing up at this hour MC? Not wandering off to explore the house, I hope,” Lucifer teased. He wasn’t drunk enough to slur his words, but he certainly wasn’t sober.
They frowned. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” they scolded him, and Lucifer stilled. It wasn’t the slight disappointment in their voice that caused him to tense. Rather, it was the way they asked the question. It reminded him of someone he’d lost long ago, someone who had the nerve to scold him and get away with it back when he was still an angel.
Stop it, his mind scolded him, eyes vacant as he watched them walk over to him and take the glass before setting it down on the table. They’re not her. They are their own person, and it would do you well to remember that. They are MC, not Lilith.
Lucifer felt their hand on his head, subconsciously leaning against the warmth and comfort. A low rumble started in his chest, one that could almost be mistaken for a purr. He liked being with MC.
Low chuckles brought him out of his reverie, the demon tilting his head to look at the one who dared to laugh at his vulnerable state. His eyes softened as they landed on the human in front of him.
The next few minutes were spent in silence, the only sounds being Lucifer’s occasional purrs. It was a different kind of silence, one that Lucifer found he preferred more than anything else. Just him, with a bit of liquid courage running through his veins, and his human.
A whine escaped Lucifer’s throat when the human took their hand back in favour of turning his head towards them. “What’s wrong Lucifer?” they asked.
What was wrong, indeed. He was Lucifer, the right-hand man of the future king of the Devildom. The strongest of the Seven Avatars, the mighty firstborn.
The fallen angel, the one who lied to his brothers, the one who started a war for his sister, yet lost her. The one who-
“I killed her.”
His voice sounded far-away and raspy to his own ears. Lucifer took notice of how his confession affected them. Their pupils were blown wide by the sudden mention of their ancestor, and their eyebrows tilted slightly in confusion. Lucifer wondered momentarily if he could get away with kissing them while they were like this, but shoved the thought away. It would be unbecoming of him to do something of the sort, especially after what he had revealed.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink Lucifer..,” they said, their voice fading away at the end of the sentence to watch his reaction. Lucifer shook his head, a few strands of his hair hanging over his face as he bitterly chuckled. “No, you don’t get it. Nobody ever will. I’m the reason she’s gone MC.”
Lucifer knew he must look pathetic as he glanced up at them. But there was no one in the room beside them, so it should be fine right? Just this once, he could let go of his inhibitions, he could rely on someone else, right?
The feeling of their thumb stroking his cheek quietened down the part of his brain that wished to stop; to hide away the broken parts of himself that lay beyond the fortress that was his pride. Tears filled his vision as he recounted the day he’d found out about Lilith’s human lover.
“You are henceforth forbidden to set one foot outside your room.”
“You can’t just ground me Lucifer! I’m not a kid anymore!”
“Throwing a tantrum will not help your case, Lilith. You should be grateful that Father and Michael decided to overlook your actions. But I do not condone of them.”
“But I love him-”
“Enough.” Lucifer’s tone of voice indicated that he was done with the conversation. Turning, he walked away to do his duties, heart hurting at how rashly he had to treat his beloved sister. It’s for her own good, he tried to convince himself, putting a gentle smile on his face as he met up with Michael. The Avatar of Humility, the most favoured angel couldn’t let something trivial as this get in the way of his duties.
“I heard yelling. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. Lilith is merely… displeased due to the punishment I’ve dealt out.”
“Don’t be too harsh on her now, Luci~”
“It’s not harsh. And how many times do I need to tell you to let go of that horrendous nickname?”
Lucifer pressed his hands to his eyes, the pressure bringing much-wanted relief for the dull ache in his head.
Lucifer saw the twins helping Lilith to sneak back to the Human Realm. No doubt to meet her lover.
He had every right to stop her, stop them… but he didn’t. He could use this opportunity to see what kind of man was able to enchant his sister so thoroughly that she’d disobey even him.
Following Lilith posed no problem. She wasn’t even the slightest bit aware that her eldest brother was hot on her trail. It was making sure no one else blew his cover that was harder. Even when disguised as a human, Lucifer had a certain ethereal aura around him. One that had humans making way for him in the crowded market, many whispering about his too good to be true looks or his suspicious behaviour. Lucifer paid it no mind, instead choosing to pay attention to the scene in front of him.
The man with Lilith had said something silly, clearly evident by how Lilith seemed to be howling with laughter. Even in the hustle and bustle of the crowd, Lucifer was able to clearly hear the sound as clear as spring water.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with her after all.
The human watched on, unsure of what to say. Lucifer clearly seemed to be thinking about something, something that was related to Lilith. But what could have made him think that her death was his fault?
“The day I followed Lilith to the Human Realm…” he started, and the human sucked in a breath at the pure pain in his voice. “I was followed by someone else as well.”
Lucifer brought his eyes to meet their gaze, debating whether to reveal what he had never told anyone before. After a few moments’ deliberations, he continued in a soft voice. “It was Michael. He found me while I was observing Lilith and her lover. I swore him to secrecy, but of course, his loyalty to the Celestial Realm had always been greater than his relations with other angels.”
Lucifer sighed, a melancholic smile dancing on his lips. “Michael… he was favoured by Father nearly as much as me. He went and told Him everything.”
Lucifer saw their eyes widening as realization dawned upon them. “Did He..?”
Lucifer nodded, watching from the corner of his eyes as they brought a hand up to their mouth, trying to conceal the shock they felt. Of course, no mortal would think that the highly exalted Creator would be so cruel to his own creations.
“It was Him who inflicted that incurable disease upon her lover.”
One sentence. Lucifer never knew uttering one sentence would feel so freeing. The burden on his shoulders had not lessened by any means, but now he didn’t feel as alone. “They made her choose between her love and the Celestial Realm. Lilith knew that it was a test. And she chose him.”
“The Angel Lilith is hereby sentenced to death for the crimes of stealing Celestial fruit and altering a human life.”
The courtroom was in an uproar, but Lucifer didn’t register any of it. He watched wordlessly as his sister, the youngest of his siblings, was led out of the courtroom, enchanted chains tying her hands and feet. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and his blood ran cold at the expression on her face. It was as if she had already resigned herself to her fate.
Lucifer had never failed before, but they say even the mighty fall.
“I failed to protect her,” he breathed out, tears slowly falling from his garnet eyes. “I failed as her big brother.”
Lucifer walked through the corridors of the prison, an unpleasant feeling thrumming through his veins, begging to be freed. He had been to visit Lilith after the trial.
He knew of their scheme.
“You,” Lucifer spat out as Michael came into his line of vision, the latter turning to give him a fake, sympathetic smile. “How is she-”
“Don’t say a word, traitor.” Lucifer had thought he’d keep his word.
Michael’s expression became neutral. “That term is best used for the one inside the prison walls Lucifer,” he said calmly, his eyes taking in the other’s form.
“Why you little-”
“Now, now. There are people watching here. You wouldn’t want to sully your image in front of all these angels, now would you Lucifer?” Michael sneered, effectively stopping him in his tracks.
Lucifer felt their pity-filled gaze on him and looked away, some stubborn part of him still wishing to hide. That is until he felt their arms around him, their sweet and unique scent enveloping him like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer, chasing away the chill that had seeped into his bones and his heart.
And for the first time since the Fall, Lucifer let himself fall apart and truly grieve.
#obey me writing#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me lucifer#obey me lilith#obey me angst#obey me mc#gn!mc#gn!reader#lucifer#omswd lucifer
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Black Moon Lilith; The Ancient Knowledge Hidden In The Psyche
Black Moon Lilith is a point in the astro chart that points to sexuality, your shame, and what drives you into the dark. She is more than what anyone can think of when we speak about this beautiful creature.
The first thing I want to bring up about BML, is that lilith is a creative force in the universe. She is the mother goddess, the witch, the maiden and the crone. She is a warrior as well as an Empress. Her queendom was stolen from her from the masculines who ruled over a tolitarian society that would make women the slaves and men the rightful bearers of this earth. Because of this, women have seen hell on earth for centuries. Now as we take our power back, we succumb to the witch of the cosmos. Who allows for our rage to be heard deep into the dark woods.
BML is a placement where you can find the missing keys to the portals of your imagination. It has a stronger connection the subsconscious more than most could realize. Lilith is a vibration that connects to hidden knowledge, she is also connected to the serpent.
There have been talks about Lucifer and lilith being the same person, and lilith being the snake that tempted eve but considering it only a theory I would share just this one tiny bit.
When I speak of lilith however, I speak of the tree of life and knowledge. Metaphorically speaking, when you eat from the fruit you obtain all the knowledge you need as a human on this earth. When you eat from the Tree of life, you become like 'God'. So in this sense, lilith was already like 'God'. She was a goddess. She knew the waves of this world and had the freedom to be who she was. You couldnt control her and make her do what you wanted so guess what they did to her? they destroyed her. locked her in cages and forced her to 'serve' whoever was the masculine.
Lilith serves as an example of how women are treated into this society, we are the ones who bare the world raw with our wombs and this is how we treated.
Now let me get back into the psyche/subsconscious. Most people with strong lilith placements and have them activated will go through the rage, trauma, shame, and fear they have just for being who they are. The world has been programmed to believe anything outside of the religious doctrine is demonic or is unnatural. So displaying any thing that doesnt correlate with society makes people triggered and want to banish them to the underworld.
People with this placement strongly are battling with themselves before they battle with the public, they shame themselves for not being 'normal' when being normal was never something your soul came to be to begin with.
Acknowledging who they are and going the curious route in discovering their true values and their nature they first go into the shadow connected to their unconscious and bring light to it. Overcoming the monsters of the mind, they make amends with what they find and make sure to nourish them as they aren't actual demons. Just demonized.
Lilith individuals are powerful forces who serve themselves and are not here to be what the world wants you to be. They walk alone in their path of self discovery because not too many people will go through the depths of their minds to know what it is they truly value and desire in their own life. Lilith people are 'feral' because they go for what they want and do not question it. No one is in their mind when it goes for what they are passionate about. This makes them the topic of discussion of all things taboo and has people either in disgust, being riled up, or secretly wanting to know more about them. The more they uncover psychologically, the more they uncover within society making them hold a lot more weight than people want to admit. It hurts to love them, hurts to hate them. But in secret, we all wish to know whats its like to be them. Because why are you so self assured in your new bound freedom? You dont feel ashamed at all? No, they've come to terms with it. They know why society feels the way they do because secretly they have suppressed all sorts of desires and cant hold them in much longer.
So the lilith holders show us the way to the true secret of the garden of eden, which is to be yourself and to let NO body take control of your identity. Thats what it was all about ;)
#black moon lilith#aries#taurus#leo#gemini#moon#sun#cancer#libra#virgo#sagittarius#scorpio#capricorn#pisces#1st house#12th house#2nd house#3rd house#aquarius#4th house#5th house#6th house#7th house#8th house#9th house#10th house#11th house#venus 1st house#astro observations#astrology
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Once again, doing the research, so you don't have to, A THREAD.
1). Separating Fact from Fiction: An Empirical Examination of Six Myths About Dissociative Identity Disorder (the full article)
Bethany L. Brand, PhD, Vedat Sar, MD, Pam Stavropoulos, PhD, Christa Krüger, MB BCh, MMed (Psych), MD, Marilyn Korzekwa, MD, Alfonso Martínez-Taboas, PhD, and Warwick Middleton, MB BS, FRANZCP, MD
Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is defined in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) as an identity disruption indicated by the presence of two or more distinct personality states (experienced as possession in some cultures), with discontinuity in sense of self and agency, and with variations in affect, behavior, consciousness, memory, perception, cognition, or sensory-motor functioning.1 Individuals with DID experience recurrent gaps in autobiographical memory. The signs and symptoms of DID may be observed by others or reported by the individual. DSM-5 stipulates that symptoms cause significant distress and are not attributable to accepted cultural or religious practices. Conditions similar to DID but with less-than-marked symptoms (e.g., subthreshold DID) are classified among “other specified dissociative disorders.”
DID is a complex, posttraumatic developmental disorder.2,3 DSM-5 specifically locates the dissociative disorders chapter after the chapter on trauma- and stressor-related disorders, thereby acknowledging the relationship of the dissociative disorders to psychological trauma. The core features of DID are usually accompanied by a mixture of psychiatric symptoms that, rather than dissociative symptoms, are typically the patient’s presenting complaint.3,4 As is common among individuals with complex, posttraumatic developmental disorders, DID patients may suffer from symptoms associated with mood, anxiety, personality, eating, functional somatic, and substance use disorders, as well as psychosis, among others.3–8 DID can be overlooked due to both this polysymptomatic profile and patients’ tendency to be ashamed and avoidant about revealing their dissociative symptoms and history of childhood trauma (the latter of which is strongly implicated in the etiology of DID).9–14
Social, scientific, and political influences have since converged to facilitate increased awareness of dissociation. These diverse influences include the resurgence of recognition of the impact of traumatic experiences, feminist documentation of the effects of incest and of violence toward women and children, continued scientific interest in the effects of combat, and the increasing adoption of psychotherapy into medicine and psychiatry.18,29 The increased awareness of trauma and dissociation led to the inclusion in DSM-III of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), dissociative disorders (with DID referred to as multiple personality disorder), and somatoform disorders, and to the discarding of hysteria.30 Concurrently, traumatized and dissociative patients with severe symptoms (e.g., suicidality, impulsivity, self-mutilation) gained greater attention as psychiatry began to treat more severe psychiatric conditions with psychotherapy, and as some acutely destabilized DID patients required psychiatric hospitalization.31 These developments facilitated a climate in which researchers and clinicians could consider how a traumatized child or adult might psychologically defend himself or herself against abuse, betrayal, and violence. Additionally, the concepts of identity, alongside identity crisis, identity confusion, and identity disorder, were introduced to psychiatry and psychology, thereby emphasizing the links between childhood, society, and epigenetic development.32,33
In this climate of renewed receptivity to the study of trauma and its impact, research in dissociation and DID has expanded rapidly in the 40 years spanning 1975 to 2015.14,34 Researchers have found dissociation and dissociative disorders around the world.3,12,35–45 For example, in a sample of 25,018 individuals from 16 countries, 14.4% of the individuals with PTSD showed high levels of dissociative symptoms.35 This research led to the inclusion of a dissociative subtype of PTSD in DSM-5.1 Recent reviews indicate an expanding and important evidence base for this subtype.14,36,46
Notwithstanding the upsurge in authoritative research on DID, several notions have been repeatedly circulated about this disorder that are inconsistent with the accumulated findings on it. We argue here that these notions are misconceptions or myths. We have chosen to limit our focus to examining myths about DID, rather than dissociative disorders or dissociation in general. Careful reviews about broader issues related to dissociation and DID have recently been published.47–49 The purpose of this article is to examine some misconceptions about DID in the context of the considerable empirical literature that has developed about this disorder. We will examine the following notions, which we will show are myths:
belief that DID is a “fad”
belief that DID is primarily diagnosed in North America by DID experts who overdiagnose the disorder
belief that DID is rare
belief that DID is an iatrogenic disorder rather than a trauma-based disorder
belief that DID is the same entity as borderline personality disorder
belief that DID treatment is harmful to patients
MYTH 1: DID IS A FAD
Some authors opine that DID is a “fad that has died.”50–52 A “fad” is widely understood to describe “something (such as an interest or fashion) that is very popular for a short time.”53 As we noted above, DID cases have been described in the literature for hundreds of years. Since the 1980 publication of DSM-III,30 DID has been described, accepted, and included in four different editions of the DSM. Formal recognition as a disorder for over three decades contradicts the notion of DID as a fad.
To determine whether research about DID has declined (which would possibly support the suggestion that the diagnosis is a dying fad), we searched PsycInfo and MEDLINE using the terms “multiple personality disorder” or “dissociative identity disorder” in the title for the period 2000–14. Our search yielded 1339 hits for the 15-year period. This high number of publications speaks to the level of professional interest that DID continues to attract.
Recent reviews attest that a solid and growing evidence base for DID exists across a range of research areas:
DID patients can be reliably and validly diagnosed with structured and semistructured interviews, including the Structured Clinical Interview for Dissociative Disorders–Revised (SCID-D-R)54 and Dissociative Disorders Interview Schedule (DDIS)55,56 (reviewed in Dorahy et al. [2014]).14 DID can also be diagnosed in clinical settings, where structured interviews may not be available or practical to use.57
DID patients are consistently identified in outpatient, inpatient, and community samples around the world.12,37–45
DID patients can be differentiated from other psychiatric patients, healthy controls, and DID simulators in neurophysiological and psychological research.58–63
DID patients usually benefit from psychotherapy that addresses trauma and dissociation in accordance with expert consensus guidelines.64–66
An expanding body of research examines the neurobiology, phenomenology, prevalence, assessment, personality structure, cognitive patterns, and treatment of DID. This research provides evidence of DID’s content, criterion, and construct validity.14,55 The claim that DID is a “fad that has died” is not supported by an examination of the body of research about this disorder.
MYTH 2: DID IS PRIMARILY DIAGNOSED IN NORTH AMERICA BY DID EXPERTS WHO OVERDIAGNOSE THE DISORDER
Some authors contend that DID is primarily a North American phenomenon, that it is diagnosed almost entirely by DID experts, and that it is overdiagnosed.50,67–69 Paris50(p 1076) opines that “most clinical and research reports about this clinical picture [i.e., DID] have come from a small number of centers, mostly in the United States that specialize in dissociative disorders.” As we show below, the empirical literature indicates not only that DID is diagnosed around the world and by clinicians with varying degrees of experience with the disorder, but that DID is actually underdiagnosed rather than overdiagnosed.
Belief That DID Is Primarily Diagnosed in North America
According to some authors, DID is primarily diagnosed in North America.50,52,70 We investigated this notion in three ways: by examining the countries in which prevalence studies of DID have been conducted; by inspecting the countries from which DID participants were recruited in an international treatment-outcome study of DID; and by conducting a systematic search of published research to determine the countries where DID has been most studied.
Table 1
Dissociative Disorder Prevalence Studies
First, our results show that DID is found in prevalence studies around the world whenever researchers conduct systematic assessments using validated interviews. Table Table11 lists the 14 studies that have utilized structured or semistructured diagnostic interviews for dissociative disorders to assess the prevalence of DID.80 These studies have been conducted in seven countries: Canada, Germany, Israel, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Turkey, and the United States.37–39,44,45,71–79
Second, in addition to the prevalence studies, a recent prospective study assessed the treatment outcome of 232 DID patients from around the world. The participants lived in Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Israel, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Singapore, Slovakia, South Africa, Sweden, Taiwan, and the United States.81 That is, the participants came from every continent except Antarctica.
Third, we conducted a systematic search of published, peer-reviewed DID studies. Using the search terms “dissociative identity disorder” and “multiple personality disorder,” we conducted a literature review for the period 2005–13 via MEDLINE, PsycInfo, and the Journal of Trauma and Dissociation. This search yielded 340 articles. We selected empirical research studies in which DID or multiple personality disorder had been diagnosed in patients. We recorded authors’ countries and institutions, and whether structured interviews were used to diagnose DID. Over this nine-year period, 70 studies included DID patients. Significantly, these studies were conducted by authors from 48 institutions in 16 countries. In 28 (40%) of studies, structured interviews (SCID-D or DDIS) were administered to diagnose DID.
In summary, all three methods contradicted the claim that DID is diagnosed primarily in North America.
Belief That DID Is Primarily Diagnosed by DID experts
Lynn and colleagues69(p 50) argue that “most DID diagnoses derive from a small number of therapy specialists in DID.” Other critics voice similar concerns.50,82,83 Research does not substantiate this claim. For example, 292 therapists participated in the prospective treatment-outcome study of DID conducted by Brand and colleagues.81 The majority of therapists were not DID experts. Similarly, a national random sample of experienced U.S. clinicians found that 11% of patients treated in the community for borderline personality disorder (BPD) also met criteria for comorbid DID.84 None of the therapists were DID experts. In an Australian study of 250 clinicians from several mental health disciplines, 52% had diagnosed a patient with DID.85 These studies show that DID is diagnosed by clinicians around the world with varying degrees of expertise in DID.
Belief That DID Is Overdiagnosed
A related myth is that DID is overdiagnosed. Studies show, however, that most individuals who meet criteria for DID have been treated in the mental health system for 6–12 years before they are correctly diagnosed with DID.4,86–89 Studies conducted in Australia, China, and Turkey have found that DID patients are commonly misdiagnosed.78,89,90 For example, in a study of consecutive admissions to an outpatient university clinic in Turkey, 2.0% of 150 patients were diagnosed with DID using structured interviews confirmed by clinical interview.74 Although 12.0% were assessed to have one of the dissociative disorders, only 5% of the dissociative patients had been diagnosed previously with any dissociative disorder. Likewise, although 29% of the patients from an urban U.S. hospital-based, outpatient psychiatric clinic were diagnosed via structured interviews with dissociative disorders, only 5% had a diagnoses of dissociative disorders in their medical records.37 Similar results have been found in consecutive admissions to a Swiss university outpatient clinic91 and consecutive admissions to a state psychiatric hospital in the United States45 when patients were systematically assessed with structured diagnostic interviews for dissociative disorders. This pattern is also found in nonclinical samples. Although 18.3% of women in a representative community sample in Turkey met criteria for having a dissociative disorder at some point in their lives, only one-third of the dissociative disorders group had received any type of psychiatric treatment.78 The authors concluded, “The majority of dissociative disorders cases in the community remain unrecognized and unserved.”78(p 175)
Studies that examine dissociative disorders in general, rather than focusing on DID, find that this group of patients are often not treated despite high symptomatology and poor functioning. A random sample of adolescents and young adults in the Netherlands showed that youth with dissociative disorders had the highest level of functional impairment of any disorder studied but the lowest rates (2.3%) of referral for mental health treatment.92 Those with dissociative disorders in a nationally representative sample of German adolescents and young adults were highly impaired, yet only 16% had sought psychiatric treatment.93 These findings point to the conclusion that dissociative disorder patients are underrecognized and undertreated, rather than being overdiagnosed.
Why is DID so often underdiagnosed and undertreated? Lack of training, coupled with skepticism, about dissociative disorders seems to contribute to the underrecognition and delayed diagnosis. Only 5% of Puerto Rican psychologists surveyed reported being knowledgeable about DID, and the majority (73%) had received little or no training about DID.94 Clinicians’ skepticism, about DID increased as their knowledge about it decreased. Among U.S. clinicians who reviewed a vignette of an individual presenting with the symptoms of DID, only 60.4% of the clinicians accurately diagnosed DID.95 Clinicians misdiagnosed the patient as most frequently suffering from PTSD (14.3%), followed by schizophrenia (9.9%) and major depression (6.6%). Significantly, the age, professional degree, and years of experience of the clinician were not associated with accurate diagnosis. Accurate diagnoses were most often made by clinicians who had previously treated a DID patient and who were not skeptical about the disorder. It is concerning that clinicians were equally confident in their diagnoses, regardless of their accuracy. A study in Northern Ireland found a similar link between a lack of training about DID and misdiagnosis by clinicians.96 Psychologists more accurately detected DID than did psychiatrists (41% vs. 7%, respectively). Australian researchers found that misdiagnosis was often associated with lack of training about DID and with skepticism regarding the diagnosis.85 They concluded, “Clinician skepticism may be a major factor in under-diagnosis as diagnosis requires [dissociative disorders] first being considered in the differential. Displays of skepticism by clinicians, by discouraging openness in patients, already embarrassed by their symptoms, may also contribute to the problem.”85(p 944)
In short, far from being overdiagnosed, studies consistently document that DID is underrecognized. When systematic research is conducted, DID is found around the world by both experts and nonexperts. Ignorance and skepticism about the disorder seem to contribute to DID being an underrecognized disorder.
MYTH 3: DID IS RARE
Many authors, including those of psychology textbooks, argue that DID is rare.70,97–99 The prevalence rates found in psychiatric inpatients, psychiatric outpatients, the general population, and a specialized inpatient unit for substance dependence suggest otherwise (see Table Table1).1). DID is found in approximately 1.1%–1.5% of representative community samples. Specifically, in a representative sample of 658 individuals from New York State, 1.5% met criteria for DID when assessed with SCID-D questions.77 Similarly, a large study of community women in Turkey (n = 628) found 1.1% of the women had DID.78
Studies using rigorous methodology, including consecutive clinical admissions and structured clinical interviews, find DID in 0.4%–6.0% of clinical samples (see Table Table1).1). Studies assessing groups with particularly high exposure to trauma or cultural oppression show the highest rates. For example, 6% of consecutive admissions in a highly traumatized, U.S. inner city sample were diagnosed with DID using the DDIS.37 By contrast, only 2.0% of consecutive psychiatric inpatients received a diagnosis of DID via the SCID-D in the Netherlands.38 The difference in prevalence may partially stem from the very high rates of trauma exposure and oppression in the U.S. inner-city, primarily minority sample.
Possession states are a cultural variation of DID that has been found in Asian countries, including China, India, Iran, Singapore, and Turkey, and also elsewhere, including Puerto Rico and Uganda.46,100–102 For example, in a general population sample of Turkish women, 2.1% of the participants reported an experience of possession.102 Two of the 13 women who reported an experience of possession had DID when assessed with the DDIS. Western fundamentalist groups have also characterized DID individuals as possessed.102 Such findings are inconsistent with the claim that DID is rare.
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MYTH 4: DID IS AN IATROGENIC DISORDER RATHER THAN A TRAUMA-BASED DISORDER
One of the most frequently repeated myths is that DID is iatrogenically created. Proponents of this view argue that various influences—including suggestibility, a tendency to fantasize, therapists who use leading questions and procedures, and media portrayals of DID—lead some vulnerable individuals to believe they have the disorder.52,69,83,103–107 Trauma researchers have repeatedly challenged this myth.48,49,108–111 Space limitations require that we provide only a brief overview of this claim.
A recent and thorough challenge to this myth comes from Dalenberg and colleagues.48,49 They conducted a review of almost 1500 studies to determine whether there was more empirical support for the trauma model of dissociation—that is, that antecedent trauma causes dissociation, including dissociative disorders—or for the fantasy model of dissociation. According to the latter (also known as the iatrogenic or sociocognitive model), highly suggestible individuals enact DID following exposure to social influences that cause them to believe that they have the disorder. Thus, according to the fantasy model proponents, DID is not a valid disorder; rather, it is iatrogenically induced in fantasy-prone individuals by therapists and other sources of influence.
Dalenberg and colleagues 48,49 concluded from their review and a series of meta-analyses that little evidence supports the fantasy model of dissociation. Specifically, the effect sizes of the trauma-dissociation relationship were strong among individuals with dissociative disorders, and especially DID (i.e., .54 between child sexual abuse and dissociation, and .52 between physical abuse and dissociation). The correlations between trauma and dissociation were as strong in studies that used objectively verified abuse as in those relying on self-reported abuse. These findings strongly contradict the fantasy model hypothesis that DID individuals fantasize their abuse. Dissociation predicted only 1%–3% of the variance in suggestibility, thereby disproving the fantasy model’s notion that dissociative individuals are highly suggestible.
Despite the concerns of fantasy model theorists that DID is iatrogenically created, no study in any clinical population supports the fantasy model of dissociation. A single study conducted in a “normal” sample of college students showed that students could simulate DID.112 That study, by Spanos and colleagues, documents that students can engage in identity enactments when asked to behave as if they had DID. Nevertheless, the students did not actually begin to believe that they had DID, and they did not develop the wide range of severe, chronic, and disabling symptoms displayed by DID patients.3
The study by Spanos and colleagues112 was limited by the lack of a DID control group. Several recent controlled studies have found that DID simulators can be reliably distinguished from DID patients on a variety of well-validated and frequently used psychological personality tests (e.g., Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory–2),113,114 forensic measures (e.g., Structured Interview of Reported Symptoms),61,115,116 and neurophysiological measures, including brain imaging, blood pressure, and heart rate.
Two additional lines of research challenge the iatrogenesis theory of DID: first, prevalence research conducted in cultures where DID is not well known, and second, evidence of chronic childhood abuse and dissociation in childhood among adults diagnosed with DID. Three classic studies have been conducted in cultures where DID was virtually unknown when the research was conducted. Researchers using structured interviews found DID in patients in China, despite the absence of DID in the Chinese psychiatric diagnostic manual.117 The Chinese study and also two conducted in central-eastern Turkey in the 1990s78,118—where public information about DID was absent—contradict the iatrogenesis thesis. In one of the Turkish studies,118 a representative sample of women from the general population (n = 994) was evaluated in three stages: participants completed a self-report measure of dissociation; two groups of participants, with high versus low scores, were administered the DDIS by a researcher blind to scores; and the two groups were then given clinical examinations (also blind to scores). The researchers were able to identify four cases of DID, all of whom reported childhood abuse or neglect.
The second line of research challenging the iatrogenesis theory of DID documents the existence of dissociation and severe trauma in childhood records of adults with DID. Researchers have found documented evidence of dissociative symptoms in childhood and adolescence in individuals who were not assessed or treated for DID until later in life (thus reducing the risk that these symptoms could have been suggested).11,13,119 Numerous studies have also found documentation of severe child abuse in adult patients diagnosed with DID.10,13,120,121 For example, in their review of the clinical records of 12 convicted murderers diagnosed with DID, Lewis and colleagues11 found objective documentation of child abuse (e.g., child protection agency reports, police reports) in 11 of the 12, and long-standing, marked dissociation in all of them. Further, Lewis and colleagues11(p 1709) noted that “contrary to the popular belief that probing questions will either instill false memories or encourage lying, especially in dissociative patients, of our 12 subjects, not one produced false memories or lied after inquiries regarding maltreatment. On the contrary, our subjects either denied or minimized their early experiences. We had to rely for the most part on objective records and on interviews with family and friends to discover that major abuse had occurred.” Notably, these inmates had already been sentenced; they were all unaware of having met diagnostic criteria for DID; and they made no effort to use the diagnosis or their trauma histories to benefit their legal cases.
Similarly, Swica and colleagues13 found documentation of early signs of dissociation in childhood records in all of the six men imprisoned for murder who were assessed and diagnosed with DID during participation in a research study. During their trials, the men were all unaware of having DID. And since their sentencing had already occurred, they had nothing to gain from DID being diagnosed while participating in the study. Their signs and symptoms of early dissociation included hearing voices (100%), having vivid imaginary companions (100%), amnesia (50%), and trance states (34%). Furthermore, evidence of severe childhood abuse has been found in medical, school, police, and child welfare records in 58%–100% of DID cases.11,13,121 These studies indicate that dissociative symptoms and a history of severe childhood trauma are present long before DID is suspected or diagnosed.
Perhaps the “iatrogenesis myth” exists because inappropriate therapeutic interventions can exacerbate symptoms if used with DID patients. The expert consensus DID treatment guidelines warn that inappropriate interventions may worsen DID symptoms, although few clinicians report using such interventions.66,122 No research evidence suggests that inappropriate treatment creates DID. The only study to date examining deterioration of symptoms among DID patients found that only a small minority (1.1%) worsened over more than one time-point in treatment and that deterioration was associated with revictimization or stressors in the patients’ lives rather than with the therapy they received.123 This rate of deterioration of symptoms compares favorably with those for other psychiatric disorders.
MYTH 5: DID IS THE SAME ENTITY AS BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER
Some authors suggest that the symptoms of DID represent a severe or overly imaginative presentation of BPD.124 The research described below, however, indicates that while DID and BPD can frequently be diagnosed in the same individual, they appear to be discrete disorders.125,126
One of the difficulties in differentiating BPD from DID has been the poor definition of the dissociation criterion of BPD in the DSM’s various editions. In DSM-5 this ninth criterion of BPD is “transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.”1 The narrative text in DSM-5 defines dissociative symptoms in BPD (“e.g., depersonalization”) as “generally of insufficient severity or duration to warrant an additional diagnosis.” DSM-5 does not clarify that when additional types of dissociation are found in patients who meet the criteria for BPD—especially amnesia or identity alteration that are severe and not transient (i.e., amnesia or identity alteration that form an enduring feature of the patient’s presentation)—the additional diagnosis of a dissociative disorder should be considered, and that additional diagnostic assessment is recommended.
On the surface, BPD and DID appear to have similar psychological profiles and symptoms.124,127 Abrupt mood swings, identity disturbance, impulsive risk-taking behaviors, self-harm, and suicide attempts are common in both disorders. Indeed, early comparative studies found few differences on clinical comorbidity, history, or psychometric testing using the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory and the Millon Clinical Multiaxial Inventory.124,127 However, recent clinical observational studies, as well as systematic studies using structured interview data, have distinguished DID from BPD.59,128 Brand and Loewenstein59 review the clinical symptoms and psychosocial variables that distinguish DID from BPD: clinically, individuals with BPD show vacillating, less modulated emotions that shift according to external precipitants.59 In addition, individuals with BPD can generally recall their actions across different emotions and do not feel that those actions are alien or so uncharacteristic as to be disavowed.59,128 By contrast, individuals with DID have amnesia for some of their experiences while they are in dissociated personality states, and they also experience a marked discontinuity in their sense of self or sense of agency.1 Thus, the dissociated activity and intrusion of personality states into the individual’s consciousness may be experienced as separate or different from the self that they identify with or feel they can control. Accordingly, using SCID-D structured interview data, Boon and Draijer128 demonstrated that amnesia, identity confusion, and identity alteration were significantly more severe in individuals with DID than in cluster B personality disorder patients, most of whom had BPD. However, DID and BPD patients did not differ on the severity of depersonalization and derealization. Both groups had experienced trauma, although the DID group had much more severe and earlier trauma exposure.
BPD and DID can also be differentiated on the Rorschach inkblot test. Sixty-seven DID patients, compared to 40 BPD patients, showed greater self-reflective capacity, introspection, ability to modulate emotion, social interest, accurate perception, logical thinking, and ability to see others as potentially collaborative.58 A pilot Rorschach study found that compared to BPD patients, DID patients had more traumatic intrusions, greater internalization, and a tendency to engage in complex contemplation about the significance of events.129 The DID group consistently used a thinking-based problem-solving approach, rather than the vacillating approach characterized by shifting back and forth between emotion-based and thinking-based coping that has been documented among the BPD patients.129 These personality differences likely enable DID patients to develop a therapeutic relationship more easily than many BPD patients.
With regard to the frequent comorbidity between DID and BPD, studies assessing for both disorders have found that approximately 25% of BPD patients endorse symptoms suggesting possible dissociated personality states (e.g., disremembered actions, finding objects that they do not remember acquiring)126 and that 10%–24% of patients who meet criteria for BPD also meet criteria for DID.75,126,130,131 Likewise, a national random sample of experienced U.S. clinicians found that 11% of patients treated in the community for BPD met criteria for comorbid DID,84 and structured interview studies have found that 31%–73% of DID subjects meet criteria for comorbid BPD.12,72,132 Thus, about 30% or more of patients with DID do not meet full diagnostic criteria for BPD. In blind comparisons between non-BPD controls and college students who were interviewed for all dissociative disorders after screening positive for BPD, BPD comorbid with dissociative disorder was more common than was BPD alone (n = 58 vs. n = 22, respectively).130 It is important to note that despite its prevalence in patients with DID, BPD is not the most common personality disorder that is comorbid with DID. More common among individuals with DID are avoidant (76%–96%) and self-defeating (a proposed category in the appendix of DSM-III-R; 68%–94%) personality disorders, followed by BPD (53%–89%).132,133
When the comorbidity between BPD and DID is evaluated specifically, the patients with comorbid BPD and DID appear to be more severely impaired than individuals with either disorder alone. For example, the participants who had both disorders reported the highest level of amnesia and had the most severe overall dissociation scores.130 Similarly, individuals who meet criteria for both disorders have more psychiatric comorbidity and trauma exposure than individuals who meet criteria for only one,134 and they also report higher scores of dissociative amnesia.135
In the future, the neurobiology of BPD and DID might assist in their comparison. Preliminary imaging research in BPD suggests the prefrontal cortex may fail to inhibit excessive amygdala activation.136 By contrast, two patterns of activation that correspond to different personality states have been found in DID patients: neutral states are associated with overmodulation of affect and show corticolimbic inhibition, whereas trauma-related states are associated with undermodulation of affect and activation of the amygdala on positron emission tomography.62 Similarly, recent fMRI studies in DID found that the neutral states demonstrate emotional underactivation and that the trauma-related states demonstrate emotional overactivation.137,138 Perhaps BPD might be thought of as resembling the trauma-related state of DID with amygdala activation, whereas the dissociative pattern found in the neutral state in DID appears to be different from what is found in BPD.139 Additional research comparing these disorders is needed to further explore the early findings of neurobiological similarities and differences.
What remains open for debate is whether a personality disorder diagnosis may be given to DID patients, because attribution of a clinical phenomenon to a personality disorder is not indicated if it is related to another disorder—in this instance, DID. Hence, the DSM-5 criteria for BPD may be insufficient to diagnose a personality disorder because DID is not excluded. In this regard, some DID researchers have concluded that unmanaged trauma symptoms—including dissociation—may account for the high comorbidity of BPD in DID patients.75,131 For example, one study found that only a small group of DID patients still met BPD criteria after their trauma symptoms were stabilized.140 Resolution of this debate may hinge on whether patients diagnosed with BPD are conceptualized as having a severe personality disorder rather than a trauma-based disorder that involves dissociation as a central symptom.
Yet to be studied is the possibility that several overlapping etiological pathways—including trauma,4,141 attachment disruption,142–144 and genetics145–149—may contribute to the overlap in symptomatology between BPD and DID. In order to clarify which variables increase risk for one or both developmental outcomes, research that carefully screens for both DID and BPD is needed. The apparent phenomenological overlap between the two psychopathologies does not create an insurmountable obstacle for research, because distinct influences may be parsed out via statistical analysis.135,150 Screening for both disorders would prevent BPD and DID from constituting mutually confounding factors in research specifically about one or the other.150
The benefit of accurately diagnosing (1) BPD without DID, (2) DID without BPD, and (3) comorbid DID BPD is that treatment can be individualized to meet patients’ needs. A diagnosis of BPD without DID can lead clinicians to use empirically supported treatment for BPD. By contrast, the treatment of DID is different from the treatment of BPD and comprises three phases: stabilization, trauma processing, and integration (discussed below).66 Given the severity of illness found in individuals with comorbid BPD/DID, clinicians should emphasize skills acquisition and stabilization of trauma-related symptoms in an extended stabilization phase. Early detection of comorbid DID and BPD alerts the therapist to avoid trauma-processing work until the stabilization phase is complete. The trauma-processing phase should be approached cautiously in highly dissociative individuals, and only after they have developed the capacity both to contain intrusive trauma material and to use grounding techniques to manage dissociation.
In summary, DID and BPD appear to be separate, albeit frequently comorbid and overlapping, disorders that can be differentiated on validated structured and semistructured interviews, as well as on the Rorschach test. While the symptoms of DID and BPD overlap, preliminary indications are that the neurobiology of each is different. It is also possible that differences between DID and BPD may emerge regarding the respective etiological roles of trauma, attachment disruption, and genetics.
MYTH 6: DID TREATMENT IS HARMFUL TO PATIENTS
Some critics claim that DID treatment is harmful.52,69,151–153 This claim is inconsistent with empirical literature that documents improvements in the symptoms and functioning of DID patients when trauma treatment consistent with the expert consensus guidelines is provided.65,66
Before reviewing the empirical literature, we will present an overview of the DID treatment model. The first DID treatment guidelines were developed in 1994, with revisions in 1997, 2005, and 2011. The current standard of care for DID treatment is described in the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation’s Treatment Guidelines for Dissociative Identity Disorder in Adults.66 The DID experts who wrote the guidelines recommend a tri-phasic, trauma-focused psychotherapy. In the first stage, clinicians focus on safety issues, symptom stabilization, and establishment of a therapeutic alliance. Failure to stabilize the patient or a premature focus on detailed exploration of traumatic memories usually results in deterioration in functioning and a diminished sense of safety. In the second stage of treatment, following the ability to regulate affect and manage their symptoms, patients begin processing, grieving, and resolving trauma. In the third and final stage of treatment, patients integrate dissociated self-states and become more socially engaged.
Early case series and inpatient treatment studies demonstrate that treatment for DID is helpful, rather than harmful, across a wide range of clinical outcome measures.64,140,154–158 A meta-analysis of eight treatment outcome studies for any dissociative disorder yielded moderate to strong within-patient effect sizes for dissociative disorder treatment.64 While the authors noted methodological weaknesses, current treatment studies show improved methodology over the earlier studies. One of the largest prospective treatment studies is the Treatment of Patients with Dissociative Disorders (TOP DD) study, conducted by Brand and colleagues.159 The TOP DD study used a naturalistic design to collect data from 230 DID patients (as well as 50 patients with dissociative disorder not otherwise specified) and their treating clinicians. Patient and clinician reports indicate that, over 30 months of treatment, patients showed decreases in dissociative, posttraumatic, and depressive symptomatology, as well as decreases in hospitalizations, self-harm, drug use, and physical pain. Clinicians reported that patient functioning increased significantly over time, as did their social, volunteer, and academic involvement. Secondary analyses also demonstrated that patients with a stronger therapeutic alliance evidenced significantly greater decreases in dissociative, PTSD, and general distress symptoms.160
Crucial to discussion of whether DID treatment is harmful is the importance of dissociation-focused therapy. A study of consecutive admissions to a Norwegian inpatient trauma program found that dissociation does not substantially improve if amnesia and dissociated self-states are not directly addressed.161 The study, by Jepsen and colleagues, compared two groups of women who had experienced childhood sexual abuse—one without, and one with, a dissociative disorder (DID or dissociative disorder not otherwise specified). None of the dissociative disorder patients had been diagnosed or treated for a dissociative disorder, and dissociative disorder was not the focus of the inpatient treatment. Thus, the methods of this study reduce the possibility of therapist suggestion. Although both groups had some dissociative symptoms, the dissociative disorder group was more severely symptomatic. Both groups showed improvements in symptoms, although the effect sizes for change in dissociation were smaller for the dissociative disorder group than for the non–dissociative disorder group (d = .25 and .69, respectively). As a result of these findings, the hospital developed a specialized treatment program, currently being evaluated, for dissociative disorder patients (Jepsen E, personal communication, June 2013).
Large, diverse samples, standardized assessments, and longitudinal designs with lengthy follow-ups were utilized in the studies by Brand and colleagues159 and Jepsen and colleagues.161 However, neither study used untreated control groups or randomization. Additionally, Brand and colleagues’ TOP DD study159 had a high attrition rate over 30 months (approximately 50%), whereas Jepsen and colleagues161 had an impressive 3% patient attrition rate during a 12-month follow-up.
DID experts uniformly support the importance of recognizing and working with dissociated self-states.65 Clinicians in the TOP DD study reported frequently working with self- states.122 While it is not possible to conclude that working with self-states caused the decline in symptoms, these improvements occurred during treatment that involved specific work with dissociated self-states. This finding of consistent improvement is another line of research that challenges the conjecture that working with self-states harms DID patients.69,152
Brand and colleagues47 reviewed the evidence used to support claims of the alleged harmfulness of DID treatment. They did not find a single peer-reviewed study showing that treatment consistent with DID expert consensus guidelines harms patients. In fact, those who argue that DID treatment is harmful cite little of the actual DID treatment literature; instead, they cite theoretical and opinion pieces.52,69,151–153 In their review—from 2014—Brand and colleagues47 concluded that claims about the alleged harmfulness of DID treatment are based on non-peer-reviewed publications, misrepresentations of the data, autobiographical accounts written by patients, and misunderstandings about DID treatment and the phenomenology of DID.
In short, claims about the harmfulness of DID treatment lack empirical support. Rather, the evidence that treatment results in remediation of dissociation is sufficiently strong that critics have recently conceded that increases in dissociative symptoms do not result from DID psychotherapy.104 To the same effect, in a 2014 article in Psychological Bulletin, Dalenberg and colleagues49 responded to critics, noting that treatment consistent with the expert consensus guidelines benefits and stabilizes patients.
(end article)
#Sage Speaks#Lilith - 🏍️#host posts#alter post#did alter#did#dissociative identity disorder#traumagenic#did research#anti endo#endo dni#fuck endos#endos aren't real#anti endogenic#did is a disorder#did is caused by trauma#you can't have did w/o trauma#endos cope harder
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Blog Intro!!!
Hello! You can call me Peaches! This blog is made mainly for me to post and vent without worrying about friends/people I know (irl and online) seeing. If you think you recognize me from my mains, no, you don't. /lh (Seriously though, if for some reason you stumble across this blog and think you know my mains, I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything.)
Pronouns.cc, Pronouny, @peaches-hoard (terms and flags I identify with/as)
I am 19 years old (including bodily). I am white, able-bodied, ofab perisex, queer, trans, possibly ace-spec, alloromantic, and monogamous.
My pronouns are He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, H♡/H♡m, Th♡y/Th♡m, Fae/Faer, Fai/Fairy, 🍑/🍑s, No Pronouns, or really any pronouns that aren't She/Her or any variants of it.
I'm neurodivergent and mentally ill.
I identify as alterhuman, I am otherhearted, otherlink, and copinglink! I also identify with the kemonomimi community!
I am a paraphile (I won't get into the ones I am, but they aren't the big three), though I don't intend to talk about it much here simply cause I don't really have a reason too. I'm anti-contact for all harmful/nonconsensual paras.
I am the host of a (diagnosed) traumagenic DID system of 7. Due to dormancy and communication problems, I don't know if the others will interact here, so all posts are by me unless stated otherwise.
Regarding syscourse - I do not wish to participate, I find it unnecessarily stressful, and all it does is hurt people on all sides. I do not like to call myself pro, neutral, or anti-endo due to not wishing to partake in syscourse. That being said, I consider myself and this blog safe for all systems/plurals. I hold the belief that you and only you know your symptoms and experiences, so if you say that you are a system/plural, then I will believe you regardless of how or why your system formed. Anyone who wants to argue this will be blocked immediately because the drama just further damages my mental well-being. If I follow you and you have non-traumagenic systems/ supporters in your DNI or anything like that then please just kindly and respectfully let me know and I will unfollow you immediately, I try to make sure I don't follow people with those DNI's but sometimes I miss it. (I don't have an opinion on tulpa terminology because I don't feel it's my place to have an opinion on it.)
DNI
Basic DNI (Racists, Homophobes, Transphobes, etc.), Anti-Xenogenders/Neopronouns, Anti-Mspec/Contradictory/Other Good Faith Identities, Anti-Alterhuman, Anti-Informed Self Diagnoses, Anti-Paraphile, Anti-Recovery For Harmful Paraphiles, Pro/Neu/Complex-Contact for Harmful/Nonconsensual Paraphiles (Personally I don't care if you are any of the big three so long as you are strictly anti-contact and are in/seeking recovery), Discourse (Mainly Syscourse) Starters, Radqueer, TransID/TransX, Hardcore Christians (This is for my own mental well being, I have a lot of religious trauma), Alt-Right/Conservatives/Republicans
All user boxes below were made using one of @ghosting-plural-userboxes's templates. The people and hand emoji's were made by @ghosting-emojis. Underneath the userboxes will be the links for each icon I used, as well as a link to the userbox template I used.
Userbox Template
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#peaches introduction#pinned intro#blog intro#introductory post#introduction#intro post#endo safe#non traumagenic safe
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