#many things are traumatizing and people simply do not realize that trauma is more than ''my parents/partner abused me''

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 8 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: How beautiful your life could be, if only you weren't so damaged and he wasn't so deranged. And despite all that, you can't help but want him and submit to his twisted desires. You also can't help but think something about him is more off than usual.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation kink, mouth-spitting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

You felt a tight knot form in your stomach as you stared down at the blister in front of you.

Of course you knew it was necessary. You couldn’t imagine a more irresponsible thing than to conceive a child of a psychopath like him. And yet, you felt your thoughts wander down a dangerous path again.

He had never explicitly said he wanted you to take them. It was almost like a part of him was keen on getting you pregnant. Like the mere thought of filling you up again and again and again, serving the purpose of knocking you up, turned him on even more. And still, he bought them for you and left them on the kitchen table. It was your decision, you suddenly realized.

How irresponsible of him.

Didn’t he understand you were hardly able to even take care of yourself? Let alone a child.

Let alone birth a child.

There was actually nothing that scared you more. Not your mother, not him, not even the prospect of being sold off into some sick psychopaths’ fangs. Another psychopaths’.

No, the thought of having to bear a child, dying during the delivery or – God forbid, something going wrong and you losing it – was your worst fear.

You didn’t even know where the fear came from. It had simply always been there, even when you were a child.

Even when you thought you’d never have sex.

And now you had had sex. And he bought the pill, because he was considerate like that.

He was twisted and cruel, scary and sadistic and yet he put on this façade, this front, of a perfect man, whenever he wanted to. He paid bills and he owned this beautiful apartment. He was obviously well-read and he knew how to cook. He wasn’t a rapist. A murderer, yes. But not a rapist.

He was many things. One of them was always far more prominent than the others.

He was sick.

You couldn’t tell if he had been born like this or if there were things that happened which made him turn out the way he did. Whatever it was, he was sick now.

So far, you only had a hunch of the things he truly enjoyed. He had briefly mentioned some of them. Others you had guessed. The erection he got whenever he beat you was enough for you to realize he liked to hurt people.

He threatened you with words and objects more than once. A knife, a gun, a belt, a whip.

So far, so good, right? Many people were into pain, either receiving or delivering.

He was also into blood. For some reason, you could tell.

He enjoyed degrading you. Calling you names whenever he got angry, making you crawl around like a dog and drink from a bowl on the floor.

So far, he had always taken care of his insanity on his own. Treated the bulge in his pants with silence, ignoring it skillfully like it wasn’t there. But you saw it, felt its’ presence like a specter.

The one time you had sex had been nothing like you expected. The gentleness in his touch, his kisses on your neck and body and God, the sinful things he did with his tongue.

You remembered the feeling vividly and it immediately sent a shiver through your body. You took a soft breath and tried to focus back on the pill, but somehow your mind didn’t comply. You kept asking yourself, if you had somehow signed a death warrant when you agreed to be his girl.

You did it to survive, surely, but you slowly felt your resolve crumble. There was more to it, you acknowledged it. But you didn’t allow yourself to think about the things you felt, while you had sex. You blamed his gentle touch. His ardent kiss. The way he subtly threatened all the people who had ever wronged you.

You closed your eyes. God, what was going on in your head?

All you needed was a breath of fresh air to clear out your head.

Would you ever breathe real air again?

You wanted a family one day, didn’t you?

Now you couldn’t tell if you would ever get that. Looking back, it hadn’t been all too sure before he abducted you either. After all, all you ever did was hide yourself behind computer screens and book pages. But now you were here and he had taken that chance from you.

Or had he?

Would he ever let you go?

No. You remembered his words like the lyrics of a song you hated, yet it kept playing on the radio day and night.

I’ll never let you go.

And for some reason, you knew he didn’t just say that. He meant it. And you remembered what you thought when you first came here.

You wouldn’t ever leave this place. At least not alive.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the front door open. Your head perked up and before he had the chance to enter the kitchen, you choked down the plan-b-pill with half a glass of water. You swallowed and stared down at the empty blister with wide eyes.

You had to play along, yes. But you couldn’t give him some foolish, twisted hope for something that just wasn’t an option.

The kitchen door opened and he came inside, his briefcase still in his hand. He looked down at you, taking in your flushed expression and his gaze wandered down to the empty blister. A faint hint of recognition flashed over his handsome features, followed by something you were sure was disappointment. But he schooled his expression so quickly, it immediately reminded you of the instability of his mind.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled at you. You couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind the smile. It most likely wasn’t genuine. When had it ever been?

“Darling”, he said in a soft tone. Then he did something that made your chest ache. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt like throwing up. You were sure you were stuck in some kind of cruel video game, a sick simulation of yet another psychopath who enjoyed torturing poor, deranged girls. Girls who never had a chance anyway.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to smile back, but it was indeed a failed attempt.

Things were somewhat less tense between you, since you had sex. Sometimes he let you speak your mind without hurting you in return. And sometimes, like that day, he came home and kissed you. Like you were a normal couple.

Like you were a couple at all.

It was painful. Because, no matter how hard you tried to shut the dangerous thoughts out, they always snuck their way back into your head.

He would have made the perfect man, if only he was normal.

If only he was human.

And if only you were, too.

He turned away from you and set the briefcase down on a chair, before he washed his hands. You couldn’t help but stare. It looked so normal, almost innocent.

A man who came home and the first thing he did was to wash his hands.

A man to fall in love with.

You forced your gaze away.

“Did you eat anything today?” He asked matter-of-factly, without even looking at you.

You still nodded. “There were a few of these things left. You know, the ones that look like sushi, but aren’t.”

“Gimbap.”

“Gimbap.” You repeated and he smirked.

He dried his hands and turned to look at you. “That’s all you ate today?”

You shrugged and he sighed. “How did you even survive up until now?”

You thought about it. Breakfast was easy. Back in England even. But lunch was where it got hard. You either ate leftovers or nothing. It was like you were unable to cook if it was for you only.

As if you were unable to exist properly when you were alone.

It made you realize how empty your days were whenever he left. You spent most of your time waiting for him, reading or crying and brooding over the horror that was your life.

But even before that, even before him, you had barely functioned on your own.

It was like your depression got worse, the longer you were alone.

It didn’t matter that your mother was the devil in human form, at least you ate when she was around.

Whenever she’d let you.

At some point in your life, you learned to really appreciate food, especially when it was homecooked. You weren’t good at this. You didn’t doubt that you could cook and all that, you just didn’t know how to really live.

A part of you appreciated the numbness even more for that exact reason. Your sadness was your solace, your darkness your shelter.

You didn’t need to worry about existing, when you weren’t really there. It was just a body trying to keep itself alive, while your soul floated around in non-existence.

A small frown formed on his face and he stepped closer, resting his hands on your shoulders. You had almost grown accustomed to his touch by now.

You could tell when to expect a blow and when not.

In most cases.

Was now the time?

“Go, take a bath.” He purred in your ear. “I’ll make dinner.”

You closed your eyes and suddenly you were all too aware again. The thought you had so skillfully avoided since that night.

Today was the day.

The night, actually.

And he’d finally get to have his way with you.

The thought equally sent a warm shiver as well as cold sweat spiraling down your skin.

“Alright.” You murmured and got up. You exhaled a soft sigh and before you left turned back to face him once more. He was still looking at you, the soft, seductive smile on his lips. But his eyes were narrowed in a way that told you there was indeed more on his mind than he let on.

You forced yourself to look away and leave the room. Within a few minutes, you prepared yourself a bath and with a soft sigh sank into the warm water. It felt like a gentle embrace, which was so very needed after everything you went through every day.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and try to relax for once.

He had kindly repaired the door and put it back in its place to give you a semblance of privacy, but he didn’t restore the lock.

You didn’t get the privilege of ultimate privacy.

You kept your eyes closed as you tried to imagine what tonight would bring.

Mostly, you dreaded it.

He’d be cruel.

He’d be selfish.

You’d wake up the next morning, feeling battered and bruised.

So not much different from how it had been so far. Except for that one night. But as much as you loved to think back at it and revel in the memory, you knew it would be more clever to try and erase it from your mind.

That had never happened.

He had never kissed your neck or the inside of your thighs.

He had never called you princess.

Never taken your virginity with such gentleness and care.

Your brows furrowed and you felt your hand itch to move down your body, when you heard the faint knock on the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open and your first reaction was to cover yourself.

What a ridiculous thought, but you still fumbled for a towel. When he came in and witnessed that, you all wet and reaching for a towel you would never reach in time, he raised a brow and smirked. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves again in that way that made you weak.

When you finally realized you wouldn’t reach the towel without breaking your neck, you instead delved back down into the water, keeping your gaze on him.

“You’re still shy around me. How cute.”

You attempted to shoot him a glare, but that worked about as good as your smile did earlier.

“Did you want something?”

He hummed and slowly inched closer, as he let his gaze shamelessly rake over your body in a way that made you feel hot and cold all the same.

“Actually, yes.” He purred as he slowly leaned down to get a better look at your wet, shivering form. The warm water didn’t prevent him from staring at you and it didn’t prevent you from feeling exposed and excited under his gaze.

“You looked so miserable earlier. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

You immediately frowned. That was hardly the reason. As gentle as he happened to be sometimes, he wasn’t caring or soft like that. Or even genuine.

He was cold and cruel and psychotic.

“I’m-“

Your words died on your tongue when suddenly he slid his hand under the water surface. It didn’t take him two seconds to force your legs apart and slide his fingers over your already slick core.

You inhaled sharply and your brows furrowed in a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and arousal. You looked up at him with half-lidded, confused eyes.

“I thought…after dinner”, was all you managed to gasp out.

He hummed in response. No muscle on his face moved as he slowly slid his index finger inside you, curling it torturously.

“Oh God.”

It didn’t take him longer than a few seconds to have you writhe and moan. You had quickly noticed that he was good at what he was doing. He knew where to touch you, how to move his fingers and when to use his tongue instead. He knew exactly how to roll his hips. When to be rough and when gentle.

The thought filled you with as much relief as it filled you with jealousy.

There had been others before. That was all you could think about.

It wasn’t the fact that he barged into the bathroom and took control of your body whenever he pleased, that bothered you. It was the thought that he might have done this to someone else before he met you.

And the thought made you feel nauseous with jealousy.

You almost wanted to be angry at him, for being able to, for having the audacity to have had someone else before you.

While he was the only one who ever took you.

The only one who ever parted your lips with his tongue.

The only one who had ever felt you around him, envelop him and take him in like he belonged there.

You wanted to stay angry, but his fingers did things to you that clouded your mind. Your eyes rolled back and you were nearly there.

“Please-“

But the next moment, you let out a desperate whine, when you felt him swiftly withdraw his hand.

“Please…”

He smirked.

“Please what, sweet girl?”

Your face flushed furiously and you looked down at the bath water.

The spell was intact again. And you were unable to speak your wicked mind.

“Look at me.” He said in a rather firm tone. You immediately did. His eyes were a mixture of curiosity and wariness. He narrowed them slightly.

“Say it.”

You wanted to bite your lip and avert your gaze, but the way he stared down at you with such an intensity made you reconsider.

“Please let me cum.” You whispered in a voice that was hardly your own.

He hummed. He was obviously pleased and the smirk was back.

“Please let you cum, what?”

Since he didn’t have a name, he made you choose between Daddy and Sir, whenever one felt like it made any sense in the situation.

Daddy was far more embarrassing, but also more intimate.

Calling him Sir felt more degrading though. Which was something he probably liked.

You didn’t know which one was worse, so you always went for the one that fit the aesthetic of the moment best.

“Please let me cum, daddy.” You whispered, your face red.

He chuckled. A horrible sound.

A beautiful sound.

“Good girl.”

He slid his hand back down and instantly you felt his finger back inside you, before he slowly added a second one. It was enough to let you release a soft sigh and lean your head against the edge of the tub.

It was so easy to relax when he had you like this.

You could always count on him to make you cum.

And that was exactly what he did. He moved his fingers inside you in such a pleasurable and skilled way, that he had you writhing and begging within a few more seconds. An explosive wave of warmth and bliss filled you, while you arched your hips up against his hand, desperately seeking the friction and the release that only he could give to you.

You had never felt anything close to this before.

Once you slowly came down from your high, you took a moment to regain your ability to breathe and then you slowly opened your eyes.

You looked up at him and the way he smirked down at you with such smugness. It made you want to punch and kiss him.

“Thank me.” He whispered.

You swallowed. It was always far more embarrassing afterwards. “Thank you for making me cum, daddy.”

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Good girl. Now, open your mouth for me.”

You didn’t even have the time to digest his words, when you already felt him push his fingers in your mouth. A soft gasp came over your lips as he parted them and rubbed his fingers over your tongue, making you taste yourself on him.

Were you supposed to be embarrassed or repulsed? Probably. But all you truly felt was how the arousal slowly began to build again. The heat pooled between your legs whenever he got like this. Demanding, rough, but also gracious enough to let you cum.

You moaned when he pushed his fingers deeper in, all the while he had his eyes fixed on your face. His lips were slightly parted and there was a thoughtful frown on his face, as he began to fuck your mouth with his fingers, making saliva drip down your chin.

You choked back the gag that threatened to escape and forced yourself to keep looking at him, despite the way your eyes watered and slowly got more and more red.

“Come out.” He whispered. “Come out of the tub. On your knees.”

You withdrew your mouth from his hand, only to hold onto his arm and get up in a hurry, not caring that you got everything wet.

It was what he did to you all the time, anyway.

You knelt down on the cold bathroom floor, ignoring the ache between your legs. Had you just released? You couldn’t tell. You already felt desperate for him again.

He made you do this every so often, kneel and look up at him like an obedient little doll. Suck on his fingers and look into his eyes.

But he’d never gone further than that. Until now. You could tell. Now was different.

And it made you as nervous, as it turned you on.

“Take my belt off.” He whispered.

You forced your gaze away from his face just long enough to slowly unbuckle his belt. Your fingers were shaking against the leather. The nervousness won.

When you kept fidgeting with it restlessly, he gently stopped you and pushed your hands down and instead, did it himself. He got rid of the belt within seconds and it landed on the ground with a soft click. His slacks followed in a swift movement, until all there was left separating you was the thin material of his boxers.

His hardness strained against them and you found yourself aching to free him of them.

You had never known you were so terribly wicked.

And you were sure you hadn’t been, until you met him.

You hadn’t had any form of sex aside from the way he sometimes teased you and fingered you to oblivion ever since that night. He wanted to give you some time to adjust to your new role as his girl.

His princess. His fucktoy.

And now here you were. On your knees, wet as hell and desperate to feel him.

The memory of that night shot back into your head and it made you ache again. You remembered how you had expected him to send you back to your room. To just be finished with you and get rid of you like you were nothing more than a toy he’d use whenever he felt like it.

But instead he let you stay. You had spent the night curled up against his side, feeling his heart beat next to yours.

He was so terribly confusing.

Of course you didn’t find any sleep that night. And he probably didn’t either. You were unable to fully trust him, despite your gentle and considerate encounter. And he was probably unsure if he had broken you enough to not try and slit his throat in the middle of the night.

Maybe he’d trust you fully one day.

You liked to think that.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. “Kiss me.”

You licked your lips in a desperate attempt to fight the dryness of your mouth, but nothing worked. So instead you took a shaky breath and slowly leaned in. You brushed your lips over the waistband of his boxers and slowly, so very slowly, moved them further down. By the time they reached his arousal, you felt him breathe out a moan.

“Take them off.” He murmured. “And I don’t want to see your hands for the time being.”

You could imagine what that meant. With a shaky breath, you slowly brought your hands behind your back and dug your nails into your wrists.

Oh God, he would ravage you.

And oh God, you wanted him to.

You bit down on the material and tried to carefully pull the boxers down. It took you two more attempts, but eventually you managed to pull them down to his knees and then they slid off of him on their own. You pulled your head back and were greeted by the sight of his hardened cock, throbbing and waiting to ruin you even more.

Your heart skipped a beat and your chest heaved rapidly under the weight of your nervous breaths. You licked your lips again. This time, they weren’t dry.

You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide and nervous.

He didn’t mock or tease you this time. He seemed more focused and stern than ever before.

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair and gently curl up in it.

“Worship me.”

The words were enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips.

“I’m not sure, how.” You murmured.

He shook his head. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swallowed again and nodded before you slowly let your gaze wander down again.

Even his cock was perfect.

You took a deep breath and leaned in. The moment you brushed your lips over the tip, he exhaled a soft moan. You closed your eyes.

Fucking hell.

You slowly moved your lips down his length and back up again, unsure how to start and where.

The feeling of him on your lips was enough to drive you insane and you caught yourself wanting more. You were nervous, but also eager.

You wanted to watch him throw his head back in pleasure and call out your…well, however he would call you.

When he got a little impatient, he bucked his hips and you felt him press forward and slowly part your lips on his own. A moan came over your lips when you felt him slowly press further and further forward, until he bumped against the warm wetness of your tongue.

“Ah, yes.”

The sounds he made were enough to motivate you further. You opened your mouth wider and coated him in your saliva, feeling him go slick and throb against your tongue. His hand in your hair tightened and he pulled you closer against him.

You hummed against him and slowly wrapped your lips around him, sucking gently and moving up and down like you’d seen in countless videos.

His grip only ever got tighter and God, the sounds he made.

You tried to glance up at him as he moved. The reaction to your touch was written on his face. He bit down on his lip and stared down at you with a focused frown.

You felt so dirty and sinful, naughty and wicked and every time he bucked his hips up, you were sure you felt yourself get close without even being touched.

“Good girl.” He breathed out. “My good girl. My dirty girl. Let me fuck your pretty mouth.”

His hand tightened even more in your hair, until his grip was bordering on painful. He held your head in place as he began to move his hips, thrusting against your mouth like a madman. You found yourself in a chokehold, gagging against him and desperately gasping for air. All the while you were sure you felt your own arousal slowly drip down your thighs. You had a hard time keeping your hands behind your back.

All you wanted was to touch yourself. But you knew better than to try that.

He roughly pulled your head back by your hair and you had to suppress a wince of pain. You were about to ask what the hell was going on, when he gritted out: “Open your mouth.”

You immediately obeyed, parting your swollen, aching lips for him. You knew what was coming, you knew he would degrade you and you didn’t mind.

You would probably hate yourself afterwards, like you normally did when you fantasized about such things. But in that moment, you didn’t care the least bit. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him cum. You wanted to please him.

You opened your mouth and just a second later you felt his saliva slide past your lips, gliding down your tongue. An involuntary moan came over your lips and your brows furrowed as you stared up at him, feeling a myriad of emotions.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

Your mouth fell shut and you obeyed. You swallowed his spit like a good girl.

His good girl.

His girl.

The sound he made was torturous. A moan mixed with a sigh.

“Yes, just like that.” He murmured. “Fuck, yes. Suck me off, baby. Make me cum.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You parted your lips and took him back in. He kept bucking his hips against you, but you were determined to meet him halfway.

Fighting against the gagging and the small scare you got whenever you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you kept moving. Again and again, flicking your tongue against him and moaning against him, until you felt him tense up. His grip on your hair became so hard, it felt like he was trying to rip your hair out. All the while his painfully hard cock throbbed against your tongue.

And then he came.

You felt him coat your mouth and throat with his seed, causing you to moan at the intensity and surprise of it.

He was shaking and grunting in pleasure, keeping himself pressed against you as tight as possible, until the throbbing began to subside slowly.

He licked his lips, since his own mouth seemed to be pretty dry by now and finally released his tight grip on your hair. Instead he soothingly rubbed his fingertips along your scalp and sighed deeply.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “Show me your mouth.”

It took you a moment, but you swallowed the evidence of his lustful outburst and eventually opened your mouth to show him it was empty.

He hummed in approval and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. You found yourself leaning into his touch like a cat craving attention.

“My good girl.” He praised in a soft whisper. “God, you’re so good for me. I-“

He frowned deeply and stopped himself. You quickly looked up at him.

Oh God, you had done something wrong.

Oh, no, no, no, not right now, damn it.

But the dreaded yell never came and he also didn’t attempt to push you back or slap you. Instead he cleared his throat and gently pulled you back up to your feet.

“You enjoy being my girl, don’t you?”

You stared at him speachlessly. What were you supposed to say to that? And why was he asking that right now?

Despite the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts you had, you found yourself nodding.

“Good.” He said quietly and gently caressed your cheek.

Something was off. Something was always off, but now, you were sure you had no connection to his thoughts whatsoever. You could never really tell what he was thinking, but sometimes you got lucky and got a glimpse of whatever it was he hid behind nonchalance and psychopathy.

Or was that truly all that there was to him?

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Come. We have a bath to finish.”

He got rid of his shirt and within seconds submerged under the water. You watched him with a thoughtful expression, before you quietly followed him. You sat with your back pressed against his chest.

He would say something cruel.

He couldn’t be gentle, without having a cruel jab follow. He just couldn’t.

But all you felt was how he slowly poured some warm water over your hair, before he gently massaged the shampoo into your scalp.

The same scalp he had just bruised while he used you like a doll.

He washed the water out and it felt like a piece of Heaven. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean back against him.

If only every moment of your life could be like this.

“I never knew you could be so wicked.” He whispered as he began to gently massage your shoulders. You sighed at the touch. Another thing he was so skilled at.

Another thing to get jealous over.

His words made your face flush and you suddenly remembered how you had writhed in agony while he used your mouth, how your fingers had ached to touch yourself.

“I…”

“I like that side of you.” He murmured without taking his hands off you. “When you let go, I mean. I can tell you’re enjoying it. You’re just too ashamed to think about it.”

When you didn’t respond, he leaned closer and his breath tickled your ear when he whispered.

He was indeed the devil.

Beautiful, dangerous and manipulative.

“Don’t worry, my sweet girl. I’ll make you overcome that, too.”

_____________________________________________________

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If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

I freaking love you all!

[afniel]

So today I woke up and promptly remembered that hey, didn't I have jury duty at some point this month...? I went downstairs and checked the summons postcard and sure enough, I did.

Last week!

Now, this isn't me confessing a criminal misdemeanor, because I was excused, actually. Luck was on my side (and so was the Wayback Machine, which is how I had to check). No failure to appear, no foul.

The thing I'm actually proud of is that I didn't freak out about it. See, when you've got a lifetime of internalized ADHD shame, the typical reaction to realizing that You Forgot Something, Again, goes like this:

Panic so much. You're going to be In Trouble. Nothing can possibly be worse than being In Trouble. This is a category 5 emergency.

Self-flagellate as hard as humanly possible. What kind of useless sack of unreliable shit, accidentally mislabeled as a human being, could have fucked this up so badly? This is just like everything else in your life. Nothing you do is ever right no matter how hard you try. What's even the point? You're an eternal fuckup. Might as well just accept it.

Existential crisis spiral until you can't even remember what the real problem is. The problem is just you. The problem has always been you. Why are you like this?

Eat an entire thing of Oreos, or whatever your self-destructive self-soothing behavior of choice is. Do you feel better? Not really. You stopped hyperventilating at least, so it'll have to be close enough.

Actually deal with the real problem, if it's even a problem. It probably wasn't. Now you just feel stupid for getting so worked up about it.

Completely fail to realize that you punishing the hell out of yourself in steps 2-4 is just reinforcing your panic response and making you less capable of coping in the future, because you've had it beaten into your head that forgetting things, a normal and reasonable human error, is Simply Not Acceptable, even if it's ultimately pretty harmless. But hey, if you kick your own ass about it harder than anybody else would or even could, then you've personally made sure you have control over the severity of the punishment, right?

Right?

Does that sound like a trauma response? Well, it should, because it is. Many people with ADHD have this same trauma response, because having a brain that doesn't work like everyone else's in a world that is not just not built to accommodate that, but in fact is built to convince you that this is a personal, moral, and unforgivable failure is actually pretty traumatic.

That's verbatim how I've lived most of my life. Don't ask me how the hell I got this far carrying on like that, because I don't even know. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger gives you a goddamn complex. But I've been working on it over the past I don't even know how many years, and today, my response was more like this:

Oh shit jury duty was a week ago. Well, now I just feel silly.

Uhh...let's figure out the worst possible outcome. Jail time? Seems highly unlikely for a first time misdemeanor. Possibly a fine, but probably a warning.

Let's look up what actually happens to people in my county who miss their jury duty. They get sent a second summons. That's very reasonable and not at all a real problem if it happens.

Let's find out if I was even summoned to appear. If not, it isn't even a problem. Mention it to my partner at this point. They say 'yeah, I forgot I had jury duty once. I looked up whether or not I was summoned on the Wayback Machine. You told me to not worry about it either way because people honestly forget all the time, and it's a fixable problem whatever happens.'

Realize they are right (and that I forgot this happened until they mentioned it because it was such a non-issue), and I should take the advice I give and treat myself like somebody I care about. I reassure myself that it's not a big deal and people do it all the time and nobody's doing to be personally affronted, and a sincere apology goes a very long way even with a cranky judge if it comes to that. I check the Wayback Machine.

I was excused anyway, so no big deal in the end. I now have a funny story to tell, and I'll probably remember better in the future as a result. Realize that even if it had gone worse, it still would have ended up a funny story later. Yeah, even if they inexplicably threw me in jail for a night. That sure would never get old retelling.

Have a shower and get on with my day.

Gold star for me, I completely didn't even realize that I was de-catastrophizing so well until after the fact. Like I've got it down to a reflex now. I am legitimately just a much calmer person than I used to be. Feels pretty alright! I could get used to this not kicking the absolute mental health out of myself every time something goes slightly wrong. Highly recommend being nice to yourself actually, 10/10 experience.

Anyway that's me tooting my own horn. I feel very emotionally stable and pretty good about that fact. It's been a fucking journey.

[mywitchyblog]

hello! I really love your content, and I’ve been following you for quite some time. i think your opinions on various topics are very thoughtful and accurate, so i have a question.

i’ve been noticing a subject (particularly on shiftok😭) where many people express their dislike of others scripting traumatic events into their realities, included to create a more intense backstory for them. for example, scripting that they lost a parent when they were younger or went through psychotic depression as a child.

i’d like to hear your opinion on this. do you think it’s okay to script some kind of trauma or disorder? personally, I don’t see an issue with it since it doesn’t affect my life or anyone else’s, but i’d love to hear your perspective on this topic!

Oh, honey, you just brought up one of my favorite rant-worthy topics. Grab a snack because we’re diving in! 🍵✨

My ✨Personal✨ Take:

First, thank you for the love, darling! It’s always a vibe connecting with someone who actually gets it. 💅 Now, let’s talk trauma scripting, because whew, the discourse around this is hotter than Satan’s sauna.

Here’s the thing: your DR is YOURS. Period. Full stop. You can script a Disney princess life or the tragic backstory of a brooding anti-hero—it’s entirely up to you. If you want to script a life-altering trauma, go off, babe. As long as you understand what you’re doing, it’s valid.

Let’s debunk the idea that “scripting trauma is bad”: In your DR, you’re living that experience. It’s not just words on paper; it becomes your reality. So if scripting something intense—like losing a parent or battling a mental health condition—helps you process, heal, or simply add depth to your DR self, that’s your business. Trauma, when scripted thoughtfully, can even be therapeutic. For some, it’s about reclaiming control over a narrative that felt chaotic or unresolved in their CR.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t playtime. You will feel what you script. The loss, the grief, the psychotic depression? It will be as real in your DR as it is for someone who’s endured it in their CR. So, if you’re scripting trauma for kicks or because you think it’s “dramatic,” you might want to take a hard look at your intentions.

The Fanfic Shifters Rant (Aka I Hate These Hoes):

Now let me pop off on these Shiftok clowns for a second. 😤 You know exactly the ones I’m talking about: the “everything’s just a quirky little fanfic” crew who waltz into shifting spaces treating their DRs like a bad Wattpad draft.

These hoes (yes, HOES) script trauma the way they’d order a pumpkin spice latte—casually, without thinking. “Oh, I’ll just throw in some childhood abandonment and sprinkle in an abusive relationship for ✨character development✨.” Like, are you dumb? Trauma isn’t a fucking aesthetic. It’s not “flavor” for your DR backstory.

When these people romanticize trauma, they trivialize the pain that real survivors experience. And worse? They make the whole shifting community look like a joke. Imagine someone who’s genuinely trying to use their DR to heal from their CR trauma stumbling upon one of these idiots? Embarrassing. I hate these hoes with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. They treat shifting like a sandbox where nothing matters and then complain when they end up spiraling in their DR because “oops, I didn’t realize depression would feel like that.” 🤡

I cannot stress this enough: your DR isn’t a fanfic. It’s your LIFE. You’ll live it, breathe it, feel it—all of it. If you’re not prepared to shoulder the weight of the trauma you’re scripting, don’t do it. And if you’re scripting trauma because you think it’s cute or cool? Stay far, far away from me. You’re not just irresponsible��you’re dangerous.

TL;DR (But Make It Iconic):

Scripting trauma is okay—as long as you’re doing it with intention and understanding the consequences.

Don’t treat trauma like it’s a quirky little accessory for your DR backstory. It’s serious, babe. Respect it.

To the fanfic shifters romanticizing trauma: I hate you hoes. Y’all are the reason people side-eye our entire community. Fix it.

Remember, shifting is about creating your dream life, not trivializing the experiences of others or glorifying pain you’ve never lived. Be mindful, stay informed, and, most importantly, don’t be a clown. 🤡✨

[reimeichan]

So you're trying to help someone through system discovery. What to do?

Was talking to my singlet partner, who at this point has, somehow, netted 3 system partners and another highly-dissociative-but-does-not-necessarily-have-a-CDD throughout their life, about what it's like to help us through dissociation and system discovery. I honestly don't remember much of my own behavior and actions throughout my early CDD recovery journey because my dissociation was that bad, and I really appreciate them taking the time to sit down with me and talk about their experiences with me. And I figured I'd share some of their wisdom that they shared with me here, along with wisdom others have shared with me and wisdom I've managed to pick up myself.

Let the person define their experiences however they want. You can offer them example and perspective based on your own knowledge and experiences and offer up wording if they're struggling with explaining something, but avoid trying to deny or "correct" anything, especially early on.

Go slowly, and at their pace. Don't push for them to learn more about their system, don't ask them to go digging for trauma memories (please, god, please don't do this), don't force them to stay grounded for extended periods of time if they can't. Sometimes a gentle nudge here and there can be helpful, especially if you know the person well and know what their limits are or at least know what to look out for, but be careful how far you push and at the end of the day it works better to trust that they know themselves better than you do.

Accept them for who they are, yes each and all of them. Not every member of the system will be all sunshine and rainbows, some parts may even be "cringe" in some way, and especially when dealing with someone with a CDD you're almost definitely going to be dealing with traumatized parts or parts that are otherwise unpalatable in some way. If a part comes forward with an identity or experience you're unfamiliar with, give them the same love and acceptance you would any other part.

Similarly, do not push alters away simply for existing. Many people make the mistake of thinking there's a "true" personality in the system (ie. a core/original, sometimes attributed to the host alter) and thus only want to interface with that specific alter. In truth, every alter in the system is just as real as each other and it's important to treat all of them as valid.

Understand that this is probably just as if not more confusing for the system going through system discovery than it is for you. Realizing you're a system or a part of a system can cause massive identity issues and shifts in the understanding of the self. Be patient with them as they may be experiencing a lot of conflicting emotions during this time.

Check what's helpful for them or what they'd like you to do to help them through system discovery. Do they want you to help point out potential switches? Do they want you to help with grounding? Do they want help remembering things that may have gotten lost in their amnesia? Would they prefer to explore things by themselves (or with just their therapist) with little to no outside help? Every system is different and what may help one system could be detrimental to another.

Above all, take care of yourself and know your limits. Step back if things are overwhelming, set boundaries when you need to. You can be there for your loved one when you're in a better place to help them.

[glade-constellation]

I think I’m starting to realize that Nexus may be one of the most misunderstood characters in the show.

Am I a fan of Nexus? No, not really. I find him funny to watch because, besides EAPS Monty, he says the most out of pocket shit. Never know what to expect when he opens his mouth. But besides that, I just can’t find any interest in him.

That being said, I recently have been doing a deep dive of his character to prove a theory I had, which turned out to be partially canon in today’s episode. I didn’t think Nexus had the Ruin virus, I don’t think he ever had it. After watching one of the introductory episodes in EAPS, I started to theorize that Nexus became what he is purely because he is a Moon. I still think this is true, and was simply sped up by the harvesting of dark star power.

This might be a long post, so strap in.

So. Nexus. I don’t feel dramatic in saying he’s possibly one of the most hated TSAMS characters, or at least most of the fandom’s least favorite. A good bit of the fandom believed he was infected by the Ruin virus, or was just a victim of terrible story writing, because it just didn’t seem possible for him to go this far. Sure, he was deeply traumatized by Solar’s death on top of many other things, but that didn’t seem like it would turn him completely evil. I was also one of the people who believed the Infection theory, as shown by my many posts during Nexus’ corruption arc.

Funnily enough, it was Eclipse of all characters that changed my view of Nexus and who he is. During “Eclipse and Puppet meet the NEW SUN”, Eclipse makes a very big point in relating himself back to the original Moon. It’s something I remembered from Eclipse’s lore, but had never really sat down and thought over. I believe @/samoftheswamp had a post that I 100% agreed with. Eclipse has all the memories of the original Moon before the separation, but is only made up of the kill code and very small fragments of Moon coding-wise. Everything else about Eclipse in that regard was filled in by Sun. He then continued to tear apart his own coding to make Bloodmoon and Lunar. Despite all of this, due to his memories, Eclipse still very much considers himself to be the original Moon.

How does any of this relate to Nexus? Simple. The coding and memories. Despite Eclipse and Nexus being completely opposites in both of those things, Eclipse still falls in line with Moons far more than he does Suns. V4 Eclipse talks a lot about how much his old self, and even current self, acts so similar to Moons. Though he appears as a Sun, Eclipse is a Moon by emotional and psychological standards.

I would also like to point out that Solar specifically say the only reason he was different from most Eclipse’s was due to his Sun’s influence. Everything that happened to Eclipse also happened to Solar up until his Sun decided to try and help him. That means that Solar also falls under the Moon category.

Now that we’ve established who counts as a Moon, let’s get into why this is important. One thing every single Moon has had in common so far is their villain arc. Moon has had several mini ones, mostly influenced by other people. Eclipse was a villain up until very recently. Solar was almost a villain until his Sun stepped in. Killcode was a villain until his change of heart. Bloodmoon was just, a villain. Hell, even Cringe Dimension Moon went evil. And now we have Nexus.

Am I saying all Moons are destined to become villains? Yes, but no. I think all Moons have a possibility of becoming a villain, and it is their choice to be one or not. Every Moon we meet tends to go through some sort of catastrophic event that leads them to this choice. OG Moon was built with a kill code. Eclipse, Solar, KC, and Bloodmoon all were a piece of that kill code in some way, on top of other trauma in some cases. Nexus never had the kill code, but he’s been through several different instances of trauma. He literally woke up to the world under Eclipse’s rule. He also had to witness the death of someone he considered a brother in his very own arms. All of these characters have had an instance where they were able to choose between being good or evil. Solar shows that Eclipse didn’t have to be evil, his coding wasn’t fully controlling his actions. He chose to be a villain. Killcode was evil by design, but chose to become good, whereas Bloodmoon was accidentally created as a murderbot and chose to stay evil.

I really want to focus in on Eclipse and Solar real quick. A lot of these characters are antithesis of each other, but Eclipse and Solar are supposed to be the perfectly representation of “what if”. Solar’s whole existence shows that Eclipse chose the path he went on. Could he have been influenced by the kill code? Yeah, definitely. That’s totally an option. But Solar was just as corrupted by our understanding. The only reason he was able to become good was because someone stepped in. Someone treated him like a person and showed him a different way. Eclipse never had that, and ended up choosing the path of evil since that influence was never given to him.

All this to say, it is completely in character for Nexus to have chosen the path of a villain by his own volition. Moons have always been portrayed to have the ability to turn evil. It has never actually mattered what their coding is or what trauma they have been through, every Moon has had a moment where they have had to make a choice. Will they be a hero, or become the villain they were “destined” to be?

I do not think Nexus was of complete clear consciousness when making this decision. Not because of a virus or kill code, not even the dark star power he may have had a the time. It was simply his mental health. Eclipse and Solar are a perfect example of how mental health can completely change a character. Nexus’ entire life was made up of disaster after disaster, which he felt completely responsible for. When Solar died in his arms, it was his snapping point. He was standing on the edge, teetering between sanity and insanity. He felt as if his family abandoned him, on top of his already present self blame and hatred, and he fell. (It does not help that his family failed pretty spectacularly in helping him, but that is the reality of most situations like this. We as an audience were of sound mind when coming up with ways to help Nexus, but the Celestial family was not. They all had their own things to focus on, and couldn’t give Nexus the help he truly needed, despite them thinking they had. Hindsight is a bitch when it comes to scenarios such as this.)

I don’t like Nexus. The story they seem to be telling with his current character arc is the same as Bloodmoon’s, that some people just aren’t worth saving. I do not believe in this sentiment at all, and also believe Nexus could have been handled much better than he currently is. But I cannot deny that how he is acting is actually incredibly plausible. It is not out of character for him to have become what he currently is, even without outside influences. Him harvesting dark star power just happens to make his fall into insanity even more likely.

(I would like to add that none of what I just wrote was against the writers and/or actors in any way. This is a “forever” roleplay show made using VRChat on YouTube. I am in no way expecting greatness. I enjoy having Nexus and characters like EAPS Monty specifically because they play into my more out of pocket sense of humor. I would also like to reiterate that all of this is simply a theory, and how I view the characters of the show. You are completely allowed to have your own opinion! Also, if you read this whole post, thank you! Even if we don’t agree, I am grateful you put time into reading this extensive post.)

[aemiron-main]

one day st tumblr will hopefully learn that they do not in fact need to shove every character into neat little boxes and archetypes that are completely separate from eachother and cant overlap but today is not that day. some of you guys will die of shock when you realize that more than one character can be mentally ill or sad or abused in the same show and even that those characters are often paralleled to eachother. max and mike can both be depressed over different things, to different degrees, and display it in different ways and they can also have some shared stuff there too/some parallels. same goes for chrissy and mike re: eating disorders. same goes for will and henry re: sexual assault. it’s not “stealing” from another character to point out the content of the show & to demonstrate shared behaviours/parallels between characters & its not stealing for more than one character to have A Problem.

like, so many people on here are SO fixated on cramming every single character into a neat little box and getting mad over anyone pointing out overlap with other characters because then that supposedly takes away from Their Pookie’s Special Victimhood And Specialness. Will’s trauma is not lessened simply because Mike has emotions and trauma too. Max’s trauma is not lessened simply because Mike has emotions and trauma too.

And also the “mike has no trauma” takes are insane to me because even if the wheelers WERE the most supportive and emotionally healthy family ever (which they’re not), the events of season 1 ALONE were traumatizing as hell. let alone all of the other seasons. like. Some of you are so neck deep in trying to maintain your fave as being The Only Traumatized One or The Only Depressed One that you expect a literal child to be able to cope perfectly with watching people die in front of him and all of the other 517384844 horrifying things that happen in ST.

[razzberrydazz]

Neurodivergence and mental illness headcanons and analysis with the BG3 cast! All of them have trauma there's no way any of them are totally mentally well (NONE of them are mentally fully well, being an adventurer is traumatic in and of itself).

Shadowheart and Astarion both have Borderline Personality Disorder undoubtedly to me, with Shart also having an extra dose of anxiety and depression on top of that. Being kidnapped and raised in a cult and being held hostage by a vampire lord are more than traumatizing enough to cause that.

Astarion definitely has PTSD from his time with Cazador. Shadowheart, Halsin, and Durge (if the player plays as Dark Urge) definitely also have PTSD.

-My analysis for my Durge is for a different post because there is so much going on there, but know that OCD and BPD and PTSD are all strong contenders for their mental idiosyncrasies-

Gale most definitely has depression and likely comorbid Autism and ADHD.

Lae'Zel is very autistic-coded to me with her directness and perceived low empathy and struggle to understand faerunian customs - many alien type characters are autistic-coded by the nature of their 'fish out of water' character arcs. She also has anger issues galore, and trust issues, she was raised in a militaristic alien cult society there's no way she wouldn't have fucked up emotional development. She's direct and quick to anger, but I don't think she's outright Rude - others may Think she's being rude but she's not, she's being honest and saying what she thinks.

Karlach is Sooooo ADHD coded to me, she also has hella anger issues and I do not blame her one bit, as well as a moderate dose of anxiety. Someone give her a fireproof fidget toy I beg of thee.

Wyll hides his trauma and issues relatively well, but I would not say he's as well-adjusted as many assume him to be. He's self-sacrificing to the point of extreme detriment, possibly a people pleaser, I am certain he has anxiety and depression that he does his best to mask, and he may not have full blown PTSD but he definitely has trauma. I get the impression he has a low opinion of himself due to his pact and often can even be self-depreciating especially when made to look like a devil, definitely has signs of depression in him. He is such a precious man and I want to help him see that he's worth so much more than he thinks 🥺

Minthara, while I don't know her character as well as the others, definitely has trauma from being raised in the toxic cult of lolth-sworn drow society, greatly reduced empathy (but not non-existent) due to said cult society, is definitely a sadist, could have developed Antisocial Personality Disorder due to the way lolthite society molded her (Lolthite society raises people in a way to predispose them to having APD if you ask me, since it's built on manipulation and fear and ladder climbing on the backs of others). Despite possibly having APD due to the trauma of Lolthite society, Minthara is not incapable of love and devotion and can grow to care for tav and other party members over time, perhaps even to a fanatical level if you romance her.

Halsin has trauma that he often brushes off or downplays, he can be quite self-depreciating at times, and from my viewpoint he is hypersexual as a maladaptive coping mechanism. Definitely has self-image issues and doesn't see himself as worthy of the love and affection and positions of authority he's been placed in. Probably has depression that he works hard to mask in front of others.

Jaheira has a long history of trauma that include the events of the first two games, I would not be surprised if she has PTSD, but overall she is pretty well adjusted all things considered. She has trust issues but I don't blame her, she has justification.

Minsc is hilarious, that man has autism I am convinced, he has trauma but I'm not sure if he realizes his trauma is indeed trauma and not simply a mild inconvenience in his life. Either none of his trauma is processed as such in his brain so he is genuinely that happy-go-lucky, or that jovial attitude is a mask. Boo is...Boo. I do not know the inner machinations of a miniature giant space hamster.

If anyone in the game is a Narcissist, it's Orin the Red (NPD does not make one inherently abusive or evil of course, no personality disorder or mental illness makes anyone inherently bad, Orin just happens to embody many of its traits to the extreme and has the traumatic upbringing to cause it). Her story is so tragic to me, she wants so badly for Bhaal to love her, she wants the admiration and affection of the god of murder so bad and she doesn't care if that means killing the entire world. She's incredibly tragic, she doesn't realize she's as traumatized as she is because it got channeled into her mask of self-importance and lack of empathy extreme sadism and want for admiration from Bhaal specifically. If it was possible to if not redeem her, at least spare her from death and break her out of her cult mindset, I would do it in a heartbeat. I love Orin as a character so much.

Gortash could be APD, but I think he fits Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder more. His want for control, for order, under the tyranny of Bane, to wrench control and revenge for the childhood he was robbed of, it's very fitting. He's distrustful and known for deceit but his ride or dieness with Durge and willingness to Risk It All for Tav is endearing to me, and could be him manipulating or simply be that he does in fact see teaming up with Tav as the best course of action for him to maintain his control. I'm biased I know, I like Gortash too much.

Ketheric is spiteful and traumatized from the death of his wife and daughter and the cult he imbedded himself in yes, but he takes it to an extreme in his lashing out from his grief. I don't think he's antisocial or narcissistic, I mainly think he's depressed and a victim of a sunk-cost fallacy taken way too far. He committed to the bit until the very end.

If anyone else could possibly have APD or NPD, I think it'd be the Emperor, but I also feel the mental quirks of being a mindflayer predispose someone to being manipulative and self-agrandizing. He is a Very sly and effective manipulator, and even though overall he has the common goal as the player and protects them from death and transforming into a mind flayer for the majority of the game, he is ultimately doing it for his own aims. He hid the truth of Orpheus and his own form for most of the game, because he was so distrustful of Tav that he believed they would never trust him otherwise - which he can't actually know as true or not. Unfortunately for him I chose saving Orpheus and helping Lae'Zel over helping him because his history of manipulation and omition of information caught up to him and caused the very distrust he wanted to avoid. He is a great morally grey/dubious character who can be both loved and loathed for his antics.

Dame Aylin and Isobel definitely have trauma if not PTSD, and Aylin probably is autistic.

Listen what I'm saying is autistic people have a surprisingly high level of charisma and they and other neurospicy people congregate together to make some delicious neurospicy food.

Those are all the characters I have thoughts about for the moment, and these are my headcanons more than anything, so don't take this too seriously.

[coastxlwaters]

(Not part of the knowledge au since I haven’t rewatched all the episodes yet since I keep zoning out midway)

Tw: depression, talk of trauma, denial,, mental health, coping mechanisms, and slight vents (mine)

More theories since my iPad is getting fixed and I need a little vent time as well.

I see so many people make Eclipse seems depressed, nothing is wrong with that, but I also notice many people think if you experience trauma and are still affected by it your depressed. Since I have gone through similar things but not on the scale of eclipse obviously, think I would be dead if I had, I can relate to him in some aspects and then go from there to figure out how is feeling in some of those moments. I am getting the feeling that the whole memory thing isn’t faulty coding or reuploading. He is still missing things that were pretty obvious throughout the backup and original. Even if ruin was rushed he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to leave a project half finished. Now since it’s proven that the human brain will block out most traumatic memories you have (other than huge ones that leave gigantic scars on mental or physical health) and since the animatronic mind works so similar it seems like Eclipse’s code is trying to replicate that inside eclipse. Basically trying to deny the fact he had the amount of trauma build up he had so he DOESN’T get depressed.The chronic pains and (maybe headaches?) could be his animatronic body fighting back against what his memory storage is trying to do which could end up damaging his systems in one way or another. So basically he is in denial. This could be me simply reading into things too much or projecting and not realizing it but in my head it is a valid theory, if you would like to add on or simply tell me I am wrong reeling it with your concerns attached I will read them even if it is yelling at me for maybe projecting, your reasons and thoughts are valid to me since it’s clear TSAMS doesn’t like us projecting.

Some more while I’m at it, his trauma was always put down by somebody every time it was slightly brought up. This pained me every time I saw it since when I started watching this show, which was basically when it started, I had the same thing happen to me. Though it didn’t happen very often since no one really on the show talked about it much. I think the reason I read into characters so much is because I have went through many different versions of trauma that most people shouldn’t or wouldn’t have at the age I started receiving it.

[bobafett51]

TW: Assault and mental Health

Dealing with and identifying abusers as somebody with Autism is so difficult. And it's a lesson I keep getting reminded of constantly.

I'm so tired. I have been so tired, my whole life. I spent my whole life dissociating without even realizing until a couple months ago. Before I was diagnosed with Autism, nearly every time I had a meltdown or shutdown I would respond by dissociating. Every time something would trigger a past trauma that I was unable to identify I would just simply disassociate. And because I pushed myself so hard every day, and because there were so many things in the past that have traumatized me, I would disassociate almost every day. Disassociation became the norm for me. So much so that I have a hard time remembering that it is not normal.

Building on this, like everyone with Autism can attest to, life is very uncomfortable for me. The world was not build for us in mind, so nearly all the world makes us uncomfortable. What is really hard is identifying a normal level of uncomfortable I have to learn to cope with is (like there being multiple conversations in the same room) and a bad level of uncomfortable (like a "friend" constantly groping me unwantedly).

I had a "friend" who kept groping me, putting his hand under my shirt and feeling my muscles, grabbing my ass, moving his hands around my crotch area, and grabbing my arms. And every time he did it I would dissociate and I would get triggered as memories of past sexual traumas would flood into my brain. But because I'm so used to dissociation, being uncomfortable, and getting triggered I did not realize that this was a bad level of uncomfortable. It was not until this "friend" assaulted another one of my other friends that I realized my "friend's" behavior was so wrong. And I am just so frustrated that it still takes so much for me to realize when someone else's behavior is so out of line. I have a "friend" who constantly sexually assaulted me and the part I am most frustrated about is how long it took me to realize it. That is just so fucked up to me and it just makes me even more frustrated.

But it's partly because this kind of stuff happens to me all of the time. Almost twice a month, someone is groping me, definitionally assaulting me. It just makes me wonder if I'm the one doing something wrong? Is there something wrong with me? Like is there something about me that makes people want to do that to me? Do I accidentally communicate that I want people to touch me? I get that I'm muscular, that I'm attractive, but like does this happen to other men? Why can't I go out without someone grabbing my ass or my crotch or shoving my hand in a sexual area?

I will heal from this. This is far from the worst thing I have gone through. And honestly, I identified this abuse faster than my prior ones. It's just so frustrating seeing how much more growth I have to do. How much more I have to learn. I usually love the opportunity and knowledge that I have more room to grow and more stuff to learn. But when it comes to this, I just wish I didn't have any more growth to do. I wish I could just identify abusers quicker, I could have avoided so much pain and trauma if I could.

At times like this I have to keep in mind that I will be healed and forgiven. James 5:15. It will work out. My next post will be about a moment of sexual healing to counteract this one.

[biblioflyer]

A Marvelsous Film: Review & Analysis

I wound up being enormously pleased with The Marvels. Much of what I had on my wishlist for a Captain Marvel sequel was satisfied.

Three core things I had in mind for the character were transitioning away organically from the “cold” and traumatized Kree super soldier, to be presented with a challenge that couldn’t be dealt with simply by punching her way through it, and to be more firmly embedded into the MCU as a leader and team player.

A Problem That Can’t be Punched Until it Goes Away

As I’ve discussed previously, Carol has the Superman problem. Which is how do you tell a story about someone who is functionally invulnerable in a convincing way? 

The Marvels solves that problem by making Carol’s power something of a liability and giving her a couple of teammates, including one very enthusiastic but in over her head teenage sidekick. It also presents Carol with the classic Marvel superhero growing pains: superpowers don’t come with superwisdom.

I think it was a nice balancing act to acknowledge that time had passed so naturally Captain Marvel should not be precisely the same person she was when she first broke free of her Kree conditioning. However, a complete personality reversal would be confusing and jarring for audiences even if it would make sense.

The film also had to address where Carol had been all this time, including multiple instances of the world being in grave danger. So it solved the personality issue and the timeline concerns with one answer: overwork through guilt.

Carol used her newfound powers impulsively and it all went horribly wrong. There’s something of a parallel there to explore as well. When freed of their subordination to the Supreme Intelligence, the Kree also found themselves not really knowing what to do with their freedom and using violence to resolve social tensions because that’s what they’d been conditioned to do.

Now the temptation might arise to ask the question, “Well what did Carol think was going to happen?”

Keep in mind that Carol was abducted by space aliens in the 90s. A time of innocence and naive optimism about geopolitics. A time when it was a lot easier to blame sociopathic tyrants for the problems of their societies and Carol was presumably busy in space trying to find a new home for the Skrulls, getting into political marriages, and rescuing space kittens from space trees while the United States was accumulating the many, many years of painful experience with what comes next after a tyrant is deposed with no realistic plan for rebuilding.

Turns out the experience of being under a tyrant leaves a mark on a society that doesn’t resolve itself in a day. It can also be somewhat problematic to be processing that trauma and learning how to exercise personal autonomy without automatically feeling existentially threatened by someone who is exercising their autonomy while there’s a bunch of unaccounted for weapons floating around in your previously highly militarized society.

There’s a little bit of Francis Fukuyama in Carol Danvers. But only a little. Unlike Fukuyama, Carol realizes her mistake and is desperate to find a way to fix it, rather than refusing to admit her instincts might have been a bit off.

I’d like to think there’s a not so subtle bit of symbolism in the resolution to the Kree arc too. Using overwhelming force without wisdom perpetuates suffering and violence. However, with vast power also comes the ability to create and heal rather than merely destroy. Utilizing power in this way does require compassion and imagination. 

Compassion is key because the Kree had long ago stopped being a credible threat to Carol, at least until one of them got magic bangles. Recognizing this isn’t straightforward though! 

When people react poorly to you wherever you happen to be, it definitely seems threatening! So one might imagine it was a challenge for Carol to stop acting reflexively, and start thinking about longer-term solutions than simply punching her way through yet another Kree platoon and another and another.

Coming Out of My Cage and Doing Just Fine

That was probably the stuff most worth spending a lot of words on. The rest is just scattered stuff I appreciated.

Since I was just on the subject of breaking cycles of violence, let's talk about the Asgardians welcoming the Skrulls for a moment.

Talk about a heel-to-hero turn. Under Odin in prehistory, Asgard was a brutal conqueror with Hela as its weapon of mass destruction. In the modern era, it seemed to have adopted a posture of guarantor of security for at least the Nine Realms, a responsibility Loki 1.0 was not overly attentive to.

Post Ragnarok, what we’ve learned between Love and Thunder and now The Marvels is that the remnant of Asgard appears to be a refuge for interstellar and interdimensional diasporas. No doubt in a Post-Secret Invasion world with its apparent Skrull pogrom, this may wind up being a bit contentious.

I do hope we get a scene of King Valkyrie delivering some Leonidas-style dialogue along the lines of “come and take them” except, y’know, this time in service to protecting refugees instead of not even slightly veiled Western chauvinism. At least in 300. Although even the history of the Persian War is complicated by some Greek city-states fighting alongside the Persians, I digress.

No doubt ships aplenty were launched by Valkyrie's tenderness towards Carol. Perhaps a small bit of consolation for the fans after Jane Foster x Valkyrie didn’t happen and then further complicated by Foster being a little dead.

Shipping ain’t really my scene, but this is one I could definitely nod along with on account of how well the characters and their histories mesh. It does make one wonder if Valkyrie was one of those unnamed people who were part of Carol’s crew prior to The Marvels. It's fun to think about at least. We know Valkyrie wasn’t blipped so she could have spent some time running around as Asgard’s representative helping Carol put out fires. It's a bit harder to imagine Scrapper 142 era Valkyrie and Captain Marvel getting along quite so well and it's implied (explicitly stated even?) that Sakaar is extremely difficult to leave, although that too is not beyond consideration.

Never Meet Your Heroes, Unless You’re a Relentless Cinnamon Bun

Cards on the table, I’ve never been a big fan of the YA genre as literature, TV, or movies. Even when I was a teen / young adult, I found stuff that was explicitly oriented towards that audience and heavily featured characters in that demographic to be almost unwatchable by virtue of just how much the genre relies on “relatable” themes like love triangles, profound awkwardness, and other teen story “cliches.” I’m not saying I was too cool for these things to reflect my own reality, if anything it was my own awkwardness that made it challenging to watch or read about these themes and still does up to a point.

Kamala Khan did win me over in the Ms. Marvel series in spite of a bit of curmudgeonly skepticism going in. Yes, it did cringe family drama and super cringe romantic triangle cliches, but with enough warmth and charisma that it disarmed me.

So I was definitely anticipating what it would be like when Kamala Khan actually got to meet her idol. And it did not disappoint!

It didn’t disappoint in the sense that Iman Vellani continued to embody the hysterical starstruck superfan magnificently (and kudos to her and her snark about Filoni calling the MCU Earth 616.) 

Yet when called for, the character was able to set aside fandom and embrace (literally) her idol not as a specimen of perfection, but as a flawed, insecure human being who kind of needed someone to see her for a whole person rather than The Annihilator or a glowing weapon to use against Earth’s enemies. Which feels like an allegory for the real-life fandom’s relationship with the characters and creative processes involved in the MCU.

This, when taken along with working through the uncomfortable reunion with Monica, serves to complete the next phase of Carol’s arc begun in Captain Marvel. I had a suspicion that this would be the case: that Carol being forced to rely on others would break through the trust issues and reserve. It’s absolutely a trope but it's not a bad trope when well executed.

My only real complaint with this aspect of the story is that it felt like Rambeau didn’t have all that many scenes to herself. Vellani is a natural scene-stealer and that is in a sense what Ms. Marvel is there for: to be the comic relief that wouldn’t be a natural fit for Monica or Carol and to keep the story from becoming too much of a downer.

A curmudgeonly opinion might say that Ms. Marvel’s relentless bubbliness steps all over the emotional labor that is owed to repair the relationship between Monica and Carol, but just the same I can see an alternate cut where the film just becomes too angsty. 

So I’m glad in the end that Carol and Monica are reasonable people able to take responsibility, in Carol’s case, and recognize that there’s a person who is carrying literally astronomical burdens with all too human shoulders, in Monica’s case but also mirroring to some degree Kamala. In the end, it seems like Kamala and Monica wind up with a better relationship with Carol for having recognized that Captain Marvel, symbol, has limitations that are invisible when one is only seeing the raw power at her command.

The Child Soldier Elephant in the Room

Remember when I said the YA genre makes me uncomfortable most of the time? Young Avengers, conceptually, is one of those times.

I’m cautiously optimistic though. There has been some self-awareness demonstrated throughout the MCU that teen superheroes are a bit of an ethical conundrum. On a meta level - the Doylist perspective if you will, teen superheroes are all about wish fulfillment. The desire of everyone at every age but especially as a teen / young adult is fierce to feel empowered to Make a Difference. 

Disempowerment wounds every soul but no soul feels it as acutely as the young who haven’t built up scar tissue and cynicism accumulated through the frustration and disappointment of trying to grab hold of complex systems with a lot of inertia and bend them to your will.

So far be it from me to poo poo the idea that young adults should be denied their inspiration and wish fulfillment stories. Star Trek after all is, when it's at its best, wish fulfillment for intellectually curious humanist adults and I reserve the right to raise hell every time cynicism and pessimism intrude on my dopamine supply!

Narratively though, I do think it would be irresponsible to not acknowledge the moral complexities of child superheroes.

So far, there has been a relatively decent attempt to walk the tightrope. To try to meet the needs of the narrative while not putting too thick of a whitewash on the realities.

Intriguingly enough, in Spider-Man Far From Home, it's the villain who points out the obvious: it's not fair for Peter to be carrying the weight of the responsibility “Fury” (Talos) is placing on him.

Clint also repeatedly tries to keep Kate Bishop from getting roped any further into his problems using similar arguments, but also out of an understandable desire to keep his failures and problems from being someone else’s to clean up.

So what does this have to do with The Marvels?

Spoiler alert! The mid-credits scene is an amusing callback to Nick Fury’s visit to Tony Stark at the end of Iron Man to talk about the Avengers Initiative. To be frank, knowing what I know about Iman Vellani, if you told me she wrote this scene herself, I’d believe you.

Anyway, she ambushes Kate Bishop to pitch her, with barely restrained enthusiasm, about forming a team of “child” superheroes. Kate wryly observes that she’s 23 but she gets the point and seems receptive.

So my idea to try to keep this from going too off the rails would be for the Young Avengers to be more of a training cadre to help young “enhanced” to master their abilities rather than an active superhero team. They would naturally find themselves in a situation where the “adult” superheroes are unavailable to solve a problem in a timely manner.

Kind of like the conceit that Charles Xavier’s School for the Gifted is in fact a school and not a training ground for child soldiers, Young Avengers rightfully should not feature the likes of Nick Fury intentionally sending the Young Avengers into harm’s way except as a last resort.

Having said that, I am now looking forward to it in a way I really wasn’t before because I now feel that Iman Vellani absolutely can carry a film, especially with strong personalities like Hailee Steinfeld to play off of. I’m still crossing my fingers for Kid Loki to make an appearance too.

[squidcourse]

I don't know much about syscourse/syscorce and I want to educate myself ob all sides of the argument! So if you wanted, please tell me why endogenic systems are bad? Genuinely asking and not a troll!! /gen /just looking to be informed (this ask is /nf ofc btw so no pressure to respond)

I don't mind answering this, but I might miss some stuff as this is a broad topic, so feel free to ask further questions.

Well first, you have to understand what a system is. Very basically, a system is someone with a complex dissociative disorder (cdd). Most commonly this is someone with dissociative identity disorder (did) or otherwise specified dissociative disorder (osdd). Being a system is caused through repeated childhood trauma, and results in the brain creating more than one identity instead of just one (alters). These different alters will "front" during different periods of life, developing different personalities, interests, and holding different memories. There's a lot of variation in what kinds of amnesia are experienced, what kind of alters there are, how alters are able to switch or communicate, etc. It varies from person to person. Different things like when the trauma started or how often it happened or just how that person's brain reacted as a child will affect how the system presents itself.

"Endogenic systems" refers to those who claim to have formed a system without trauma. They are supposedly "non-diordered." This is not possible, and there is no research to back up the idea that a system can form without trauma. There have been attempts to prove that this is possible, in an effort to discredit trauma survivors, however it has been found time and time again that trauma is required to create a system.

The nature of CDDs is that they are covert disorders meant to repress trauma in an effort to survive a difficult childhood. It can take a long time to realize that you even have a system, never mind the trauma that caused it. It's not uncommon for systems to claim to be endogenic before realizing that they are not. It seems appealing in a way. You've got this confusing stuff in your head, and here's a community that's going to tell you nothing is wrong. This leads to a lot of denial. It doesn't help that the Endogenic community is always making up random "origins" for systems that could be anything. Sometimes this leads to people claiming that they're not a system because of trauma, they're a system because [insert trauma] because they're in denial about it, and they're stuck in a community saying that you can exist with a whole system in your head without anything being wrong.

More often though, endogenics simply think that being a system is fun. They think it's like "having friends in your head" like this is some kind of game. They will steal terms from CDDs that originally represented a trauma response or a serious concept, and turn it into something fun and nonsensical. Endos at large are a mockery of real systems. They often compare something that is quite literally a trauma response that comes hand in hand with PTSD to being transgender. There is no comparing the two topics, however endos often do this, seemingly only for fun to create alter origins like they're xenogenders. It is completely absurd, and largely considered to be transphobic as it compares being transgender to a disorder, and treats a trauma response like a fun expression of self.

Endos will often try to participate in system spaces, inserting their frivolous roleplay into spaces for trauma survivors. They will misrepresent research to try and make themselves seem "legitimate" for some reason. They want the "fun" of different aesthetics and personas while also trying to compare themselves to victims of severe child abuse.

A big part of the problem is that a lot of people don't seem to understand abuse and trauma. So many people just do not understand what it is like to be abused, or to go through something traumatic, and it's not really something people like talking about.

If endos didn't try to compare themselves to trauma survivors, and didn't frequently spread misinformation about disorders, I doubt there would be as much of an issue, actually fuck that. I would still kind of be pissed off about them. It's so stupid when endos claim to have persecutors or whatever. Like why? So you can be edgy? It's such a mockery of what I go through, what a lot of people go through. The reality of being a system is not being able to trust your memory. It's not being able to trust anyone around you. Its irrational fears and outbursts. It's constantly feeling like you're in danger. Its a fucked up personification of PTSD. It is not something to base stupid ass roleplay off of. I hate endos. Sure, some of them are probably real systems in denial. But regardless, they spread misinformation, they've been known to harass real systems with their bullshit.

I don't like endos.

[xx-slug-xx]

I like Starrbarr's carrd about the proship vs. antiship debocle but I disagree with her on giving Antis the benefit of the doubt.

How many people have been hurt by antis? how many harassed, doxxed, how many minors? I agree that proshippers harassing antis is fucked, but antis do it FAR MORE and are far, far more cruel. They HAVE been really hypocritical and cult-like and monolithic; far, FAR more than I think this person realizes- do WE really owe the chance to be heard out to antis when antis have done nothing but hurt people? over stuff that doesn't exist?

I know several people in proship spaces that are traumatized over Antishippers, and they have the RIGHT to be traumatized, they have the right to be MAD, to not want to give antis "the benefit of the doubt" EVER.

if Antis have the right to their trauma, WE should have the right to our trauma too.

Sorry that I got to this ask a bit late! But, honestly, to some extent, I agree with the "benifit of the doubt" thing! But I also agree with you as well, anon!

I have seen my fair share of antis being horrible people. Both to me and toward others. Yes, people have more than the right to be upset about this. People also have the right to avoid anyone who uses the "antiship" label or who has "proship dni" in their bios. However, not all antis are out there doxxing and harassing proshippers. I've known a lot of antis who simply use the label because they don't want to be harassed by true antis. For a large number of antis, they simply don't want to be associated with "problematic fiction". Is this part of the problem, yes absolutely, and it does help perpetuate the harassment toward proshippers, whether they like "problematic fiction" or not. But the difference is that these guys aren't doing so with any sort of malicious intent. They are just protecting themselves, and they have the right to. True antis have ruined the internet and fandom for everyone, and this is a great example.

I also want to add that there are a lot of antis who don't actually know what proship means at all. Just that they think it means "people who like lolisho". Does this mean that they have an excuse to harass people? Absolutely not. But misinformation spreads like wildfire, and people are more likely to use the "antiship" label as a way to simply say "I don't like lolisho". The problem lays in the fact that no anti has the same definition for proship :/ It changes depending on who you ask. Some say it means you like lolisho, some say it means you like incest, some say it means you like rape, and some say it means all three, and then some. Antis aren't organized and can't agree on anything. Even the label "antiship" can mean a whole hell of a lot of different things. Most proshippers say that antiship means "people who are pro-censorship and pro-harassment", and there are absolute antis who use the label as such. But when misinformation about what both proship and antiship are spread around, they won't use the antiship label how it's historically and contextually meant to be used.

Anyone who hassles people though isn't cool in my book. I feel like I am with you on that one, anon. No proshipper should feel obligated to inform someone who is spreading libel against them what "the true meaning of proship is". When you have bullies, you don't need to show them love and compassion. It's your choice. You don't need to turn the other cheek and show people mercy when they want you dead. People like that don't care how "nice" you are or not. They are the kinds of people who don't care about the actual meanings behind the words they are using. They care about how fun it is to harass people on the internet. These are true antis.

[lordelmelloi2]

kiara

Sexuality Headcanon: Omnisexual. Its Kiara. She could fuck a computer fully

Gender Headcanon: Oh my god, its Kiara. Shes over there eating mermaid flesh. "THIS IS WHAT GOOD PUSSY SOUNDS LIKE *GEIGER COUNTER GOING CRAZY*", literally indescribable

A ship I have with said character: HansKiara, KamaKiara. KiaraRose is the bad end

A BROTP I have with said character: I don't think Kiara is capable of being "bros" with somebody. I do not believe she has it in her to do "bro" things.

A NOTP I have with said character: Hmmm. A lot of pairings with Kiara I think would be ill-fated, because I think Kiara is actually quite delicate and people would mishandle her, or try to get with her solely for sex reasons, and she's much more ladylike than that and secretly desires to be treated more humanely even if she is the way she is. To be honest I'm not fond of many GudaKiara things in any regards. I'm also pretty tired of the "putting Kiara and King Hassan in the same room and seeing what happens" sex jokes to be honest, I think King Hassan has the sight to see that Kiara is much more pathetic than she leads on but Kiara would become like a hissing kitten in his presence rather than joking about fucking him.

A random headcanon: Kiara can make games. Kiara is secretly the backbone of the gaming club in Chaldea because no one realizes that a decent amount of indie productions in Chaldea are through her computer. Kiara's the backbone of a lot of the hardware and software engineering parts of Chaldea (LOL hard and soft ware JOAKE) simply because people asked nicely and she said yes and was watched very closely to make sure she wasn't installing anything she could take advantage of. Because of her capabilities she's always getting approached for programming help all the time to the point where she openly sighs in exhaustion whenever someone comes to her with a problem. It's very funny to see her run ragged for once despite being a super wizard class A hacker

General Opinion over said character: I love Kiara, I think she has a lot of depth and nuance and she's not as evil as people think. I think people enjoy using her as a scapegoat because her character does feature a lot of sexuality, she's the original Beast-Whore where her sexuality is a feature of the evilness she's meant to represent. But I think she's a lot more detailed than just being evil and wanting to have sex. Because there's her background which reveals she's been basically traumatized and fucked up her entire life, and you can tell in the way she acts that she wants to try to reclaim some of the innocence she was denied in her childhood, although her method of approaching it is twisted because, again, she's been screwed over her entire life. But I also think there's more to her than even just those things, I think her capabilities as a hacker should be explored in a legitimate sense, I think her competencies deserve examination. In the Fate/Extra SERAPH manga the ideal, flawless society she created literally was a society in which there was no discrimination for the way people where, and on top of that, it was first in the medical field and had cured several diseases and had pioneered research in medical techniques and even for therapy techniques so people could live and survive. And it was all presented as legitimate. Maybe I have the wool pulled over my eyes, but I think it's intriguing that a woman who was bedridden and abused her entire life, when finally using her power as a savior and a leader decides to create a society where people will no longer have to suffer under their diseases or traumas and are given the tools and resources to make it happen......

[amygdala-suzanna]

I'm gonna rant about my identity, trauma, girlfriends, Life Is Strange, and Gwen Stacy for a bit.

"nerdy middle-class trans-lesbian white-girl" is probably like the most inoffensive label someone could have. It probably even sounds fragile to a lot of people. But that is what I am.

I'm definitely not normal though, people often find my interests disturbing when I'm allowed to go on about them. Unhinged sadistic demons and gothic fantasy blade-wielding blood-covered warriors are certainly my favorite kind of characters to present myself as when given the opportunity to roleplay. My heart rate doubles when my girlfriend describes how they'd allow me to bite down on their neck. I love horror, being scared and being scary, and it's not pleasant to most, but that is what I like.

The thing that comforts me about being discomforting like that is that there's nothing for me to prove to anyone. Those close to me can just smile and laugh at my absurdity. Even better if they find it exciting. But, all my life with my parents I always feel like I have to prove something to them in order to justify asking for anything. This has carried over to my love life. I really struggle with asking my partners for anything. I developed a habit of avoiding confrontation with my parents by simply doing things based on my presumptions and hoping they'll be okay. It's pretty bad.

At four years old I had the displeasure of learning what I was. This was traumatizing, because I knew I was inside. In my dreams as a kid I always saw myself as a girl. When I learned that I was born a boy because of my body something broke inside me and I have been in and out of dissociation ever since. There used to be four alters in our system. The one that played the role of "boy" was evicted from the system some time in the 10th grade when we realized that there was serious gender dysphoria with the three other feminine alters inside and the masculine body. Sam fucking killed him and I'm glad she did.

When I came out to the then-girlfriend, she rejected me, hard. I had to spend like 4 hours on a phone call with her convincing her that I was the same person, unaware that I was lying to her more and more with every minute that passed. Because we were not the same, not remotely.

That relationship ended poorly. I still hate her for stealing my life for those 3 years. I hate that my experience playing Life Is Strange was with her, and I hated that she made me feel bad about wanting Max to kiss Chloe. Fuck her. I pored over so much Pricefield fanart that night and it made stronger impacts on my memory than anything you've ever done for me.

When I came out to my parents, of course, I had to prove it to them. They didn't believe me for the first two years, of course, they had to send me to a therapist who just told them exactly what I told them two years prior. Then they didn't believe her either and sent me to another one who came to the same conclusion. Guess fucking what, dad, I'm a woman and I always have been. Don't ever fucking say that you "lost" your son, you never had one, it was just a stupid fucking alter playing make-believe because it thought it had no other choice until Andrew told me he had a trans friend.

Fuck.

Watching the new Spiderverse recently and seeing Gwen's arc with her dad hit it perfectly for me. "Wow, look at this trans teenage girl who loves punk rock and lives in a world purveyed by a living watercolor painting that feels like a dream of color and melancholy and identity. She's just like me for real." I'm probably just like 90% of the other trans women seeing this in the theater in thinking that. I wonder how many other saw that aesthetic and were viscerally reminded of the overall aesthetic of Life Is Strange. Guess what, that's another story about a nerdy white girl with a savior complex trying to prove herself to everyone while just trying to be in love.

Teen white girls with identity crises and issues about proving themselves are not in short supply in American fiction by any means, but fuck it still hurts my heart seeing Gwen's dad come around to listening to her. I know my dad eventually came around just the same, but he didn't do it in a way that didn't hurt. I just wish it didn't hurt me and make be bitter and never want to go back home.

It would be really nice if I got to be the teenage girl I always wanted to be. I suppose that's what I'm doing now, in college. With the girlfriends and dates and all. It still hurts that Brynn decided she doesn't want to date a poly girl. I love her so much and I even enjoyed spending time with her family. I know we are still great friends, but that space between us does still make me sad. I'm grateful for Lil asking to be girlfriends just in time for Brynn to decide that, and Lil is really sweet and makes me really happy, but the sadness isn't gonna go away soon, I feel.

Melancholy helps get the emotions out at least. I think probably like two people will read this post until this point. Maybe Acorn if anyone. If you are here, you're a real friend, I knew I could count on you to pay attention to my stupid vent posts. Weird to find out here that Brynn isn't dating me anymore, isn't it. Oh well.

[cow-boy-caviar]

THE MAIDENS by ALEX MICHAELIDES

I’ll do my best to be charitable, because I know I went into this book with the wrong expectations, but as the first book I finished in 2025, it doesn’t bode well for the year. (Chat, I did not enjoy this book.)

Forgive me for seeing the cover and reading a blurb and expecting a dark academia novel. Of course, most in the genre will pale in comparison to the blueprint (The Secret History by Donna Tartt), but I like a campus novel. I like a paperwork narrative. I like when things get weird and ritualistic. I love when there are allusions to ancient texts. I even like a murder mystery sometimes. What I failed to realize is that The Maidens is, by the author’s own admission, more of an homage to Agatha Christie than to Dead Poets Society.

Again, I can enjoy an Agatha Christie caper, but so much of the connotation of “old lady writing mysteries” is crackling fires and Murder, She Wrote and Desdemona Hughes that I forget about the ending of Crooked House: the family was so traumatizing for everyone involved that there will never be a happy ending for any of them. It’s a type of twisted and intriguing that is popular for the same reason true crime podcasts are popular: it’s real fucked up. Michaelides provides us with plenty of traumatized, fucked up people, who have all grown up and manifested that trauma in different ways. Mariana is incredibly suspicious and paranoid that everything is connected to the tragic death of her husband; her patient, Henry, obsesses over Mariana’s attention; her niece, Zoe, carries out the plan of her abuser even though it won’t bring either of them any relief; Fosca manipulates and coerces everyone around him; and Sebastian, whose childhood we see in tortured snippets even though we never hear from him directly, sets events in motion to torment everyone closest to him. It’s all supremely fucked up and could’ve been a really interesting exploration of generational and cyclical trauma. It’s honestly the type of book my parents would like (they love their gruesome crime thrillers).

I know I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I wanted to because it was a different type of book than I expected; that’s on me. I have other qualms, however. I found there to be too many characters—too many men for a book titled The Maidens, frankly. (I wanted to see more of the mysterious all-women student cult, but that wasn’t the type of book this was.) Many of these characters felt one-note: Serena has a secret admirer, Fred is clumsy, Henry is obsessive, Clarissa is epicurean, Sangha drinks tea, Fosca is performative, Mariana is paranoid (so paranoid, her conclusions sound like stretches even from her limited-third POV). In order for me to care about solving the murder, I gotta care about the characters, and I simply didn’t. I think we know surprisingly little about most of them—or rather, we know surprisingly little about any of the women. Each of the titular Maidens receives, not exaggerating, a single-sentence description. I think the buildings and flower beds of Cambridge get more descriptions than any of the victims.

Maybe I’m just not used to murder mysteries, but it felt like there were too many red herrings (again, too many kinda creepy, off-putting men, each of whom is hinted as being the killer at one point), and the ultimate reveal didn’t seem like it had been hinted at throughout in any clever fashion. Maybe I’m used to meticulously planned murder mysteries, in which each detail is accounted for, and this mishmash of mystery and dark academia ended up doing neither one that well. It doesn’t claim to be a procedural, but our protagonist does try to investigate the murders, so one would hope for efficiency? discretion? less time getting meals and drinks and more time answering questions? It very much wants to be a dark academia novel, but since our protagonist isn’t a student and seemingly had little interest in academia while she was one, the narrative has a very thin varnish of dark academia with none of the substance. The aesthetics are barely even there (do these students even take Greek?) and the whole thing left me wanting.

Ya fooled me, book cover with a Grecian bust. Next time I’ll do more research, but I imagine I’ll always be chasing the high of Richard saying to Bunny, “have you tried the locative case?”

[renosser]

Notes About A Blog...

This is rhetoric. I'm writing about my irl blog. haha. I'm not actively having any issues, nor do I wish to put that idea forward, but this specific thing intrigues me enough to spill thoughts about it on my anon tumblr.

To set the stage: I have a blog that basically chronicles every little detail of my life for the past few months, from around mid-April to now. What interests me enough to write something rhetorical here is that there was a very distinct end to the chapter that was "Ren escapes some really nasty trauma" and the current one, which I'm calling "holy shit this ptsd is fucking serious business."

I am working on a memoir about the first "chapter" that may become fictionalized since certain people are still alive, and I am not about to drop names when people are alive and so many people know who I am irl.

I'm happy that the current therapist and I get along very well, and she seems to understand that my mind's preferred way of dealing with traumatic stress is to overload the senses. So if I'm in a state that's causing acute panic, I can simply, say...eat some super spicy Buldak ramen (you cannot possibly be depressed or in panic mode when your mouth is on fire) or snuggle up with a super soft blanket under my weighed one, or put on some Super Hit incense, or listen to my vaporwave/synthwave playlist a la Mass Effect. Sensations that are overpowering, basically.

Around the end of the first chapter, if you will, it was as if a perfect storm of negatives hit at the exact same time, which initiated a n acute traumatic response to perceived abandonment. On one level, I know it's there. I just didn't think...well, I had all defenses ready for that possibility. It takes a lot to trust a person. It's why I absolutely adore arms-length friendships. Let's keep it jovial, let's keep it not private. And if I need to share what I have going on, I have a blog where I try my best to keep things level but honest. (I've been told by a my best friend who is an editor that I'm reflective, introspective, and raw, and it's always refreshing to read, even when it's chaotic). But even with arms-length friendships, I still worry people are going to bail on me, because I have a laundry list that details how that happens almost every time. More often than not, there's a third party involved, there's jealousy on the third party's part, and I'm too honest to realize my honesty is used against me.

So there's this person I just love the hell out of (arm's length, regardless) who catches the brunt of this whole mess (via my blogging and trying to over-correct in public) who has taught some things/advice that I think is ironically helping with this mess. I got it out of my system (I wrote the demons out of me, if that makes sense, and I also had to use the block feature on a person who kept antagonizing me about it, unfortunately). I've actively been working with my therapist.

What they've taught/advised, and what I've been doing is trying to keep my needs first. It helped me stay focused at work, helped me get to sleep on time, and helped me remember that even if the perceived abandonment happened, I would be okay. Which...the idea alone still hurts at the core, but I would be okay if I kept following through on keeping my needs first.

But on top of that, I really just want to be positive. Certainly there's an undercurrent of sadness from all of the loss I've endured as of late. But I want to just make a healing blog where I talk about what's actually helping. So...blog 1 would be the goings on and the hurts. Blog 2 would be a healing / recovery blog. I write enough, this would be no problem to maintain.

Then presents the question of my gamer tag. I have that as a dot com. All of my social media handles are my gamer tag. I was planning on making my gamer tag dot com into a gaming or even a positive gaming blog. I am a big nerd for point and click games, or games which require low specs. I also really love audio drama and anything like the podcasts that NPR and BBC put out. But with the way that mental health is integrated into the world of gaming, I considered making that the place where I also talk about all of that and what is helping me heal.

So the whole point of writing all of that is to add that I love how Tumblr works. I came here at the beginning thinking I was going to be following specific topics. Instead, I'm remembering things I love. Food, for example. I love cooking. I knew that, but I didn't realize how cathartic it was until I made that batch of soup earlier in the week. Or foggy mountainsides and small villages that look to have successfully missed what's going on in the rest of society. Or fantasy environments and characters who reside in those places.

Which basically means I have three working blogs, now.

The first one that I talked about, where I share my gritty details of my life, fears, challenges, etc. The second one that I need to start, which would talk about games, audio works, podcasts, and mental health recovery (abandonment is false, we are never truly alone, especially as gamers, we just may not have the attention from those we dearly miss). And this one, my anonymous Tumblr, where I experimentally explore and extrapolate things I didn't realize I love.

While we're on the subject of audio drama, I encourage anyone who reads this to check out Carcerem on Spotify. Lots of names you might recognize have lent their talents to that show.

Also, a short series called Dirt.

Another series is Nocturne, a tabletop RPG that originally aired on Twitch that introduced me to several people who I've followed ever since. It's intense, and the DM does such a great job of making people realize that everything comes at a cost, including me, after realizing that the silence and solitude that I've so longed for and finally acquired set the perfect stage for all of the negatives I mentioned to happen at the same time.

And an album that I love from beginning to end (mostly instrumental) called Internet Dump by Cosmic Collective.

Rhetorical? idk, what do you all like to listen to?