#rationalizing the narcissists lies

[truelovescamrecovery]

Why Do We Believe Lies?

Why do we believe the lies the narcissist or sociopath tells? Because we're normal. It's normal to believe what people say. It's normal to make sense of things that seem odd.

Why do we believe the lies the narcissist or sociopath tells? Because we’re normal. It’s normal to believe what people say. Here’s the thing, it’s normal to believe other people. believing others is hard-wired into our normal human hearts. We’re born this way. We trust and believe others as such a regular part of life, it’s something we barely notice. Continue reading Why Do We Believe Lies?

[ms-scarletwings]

So there was a note under my post about Zim hovering a finger over the self destruct switch on his first day on Earth that just cracked open something in my mind.

Cause…Oh. Oh hecc you, @murhuedur. You actually touched on like, my favorite thing about this character, period. I really like this take, I do. It’s a good one. I ponder, still,

In my own opinion, it’s actually genuine confidence and arrogance, but Zim’s delusions of grandeur are as a thin rubber band. They can stretch out to wild lengths and remain malleable enough to bend around truth as he wills,

But there’s a hard limit out there eventually, and should reality require him to stretch his cognitive dissonance just too far, it’s a violent snap-back to full clarity. I don’t think he’s faking it or always lying to everyone else about what hot shit he is, because I think he fully believes those lies about as fast as he can speak them, even if he will later realize he was wrong after a cosmic punch to the face.

Like, Zim’s smart, but smart people aren’t inherently rational ones. Within Zim, the tallest, hell, maybe even Skoodge, there’s sometimes this very short-sighted flippancy about what is objectively true/false that peeks out every now and again in their psychology. I mean, humans sometimes do this too when it’s convenient to their interests, just, obviously not to goofy cartoon character levels if they want to function in society.

Zim has whatever this flaw is and cranked up to 11, maybe as a side effect of his PAK defects. Sometimes it gets him into DEEP shit, but it’s also his biggest mental shield. Zim has like no fortitude against spiraling into a full on depression or a justifiable panic attack over the smallest concession of being an absolute failure to his race. That weaponized denial that makes him so dangerous to himself and others also keeps him together and motivated forward. But it’s not largely a conscious lie he’s telling himself. It’s genuine faith he’s trying to manifest into matter through sheer force of his will.

His dogmatic mantra, “I am Zim” and what it means to him is a statement he holds on such conviction it overpowered and hijacked the ego of 3 control brains at once.

If I were inserting him into DnD he’d have the wisdom stat of a stale poptart and a 20+ thrown into charisma. He’s faking it without even understanding he’s faking it.

But were he completely detached from reality, he’d be WAY more likely than even now to accidentally get himself killed. While a narcissistic level of self esteem is what lets him ignore and selectively unhear inconvenient truths, the adrenaline of immediate life or death danger is what grounds him back in the real world. You notice over time that as self-sabotaging as he normally is, he seems to act his most rational and competent when he’s suddenly put against the grindstone and self preservation HAS to jump into the driver’s seat. He basically survives his day to day on a tightrope between a falsely glorious narrative of himself, and his perceptive anxiety both tugging him to land on either side of the fence when something big happens.

In “The Trial”, he wastes very little time on his expected bullshit or his confidence in being able to just win over the approval of his judges.. by virtue of being his awesome self. He spent most of that ordeal on the verge of a heart attack, squirmed to find an escape, and actually tried to DENY causing the death of two Almighty Tallests (reminder that he usually owns up to his atrocities with downright offensive pride). He understood the full gravity of an existence evaluation and how cooked his goose was. As soon as the situation resolves and he’s no longer in that danger, it’s right back to full trust of his status as an invader, and in Red and Purple as his biggest fans. When his disguise starts to slip in front of Skool kids he knows are dumb as a bag of rocks, he can silver tongue his way around that without skipping a beat. Losing his disguise in front of a bunch of alien-obsessed adults? Uh oh, pants-shitting terror, this is potentially game-over levels of bad, immediately gtfo of here. Stand there, chest beat, and scold the obviously rogue duty-mode Gir all day until the second it actually tries to kill you and you suddenly have to realize you’re not the one holding the cards anymore to save your own life.

The other way this quirk of his really shows through is in his selective memory. Zim has this skill to repress down and push away unpleasant experiences that I think some of us can only dream we had. I love it because it’s equal parts a comedic and analytical goldmine.

Tak, who actually posed a legit threat to his entire mission and tried herself to chip through that massive wall of denial he’s shielded in- same Tak who’s powerful af ship was stolen and desecrated by Zim’s arch nemesis… she’s not just an afterthought in his mind after that mess. He’s literally pushed that one out of his thoughts altogether in the comics. Like she, and Skoodge, who he can’t fucking stand, might as well have never even existed, even while GIR’s trying to remind him. That time he played around with time travel and it was one of the biggest clusterfucks he quickly lost control of? The bologna incident he stooped so low as to ask dib to help him with? You must be thinking of someone else. Nope. Not a thing. Lalala, can’t even hear you. This is also what makes it no wonder he deeply struggles with actually learning from certain mistakes.

From an outsider’s eye this behavior of his is baffling. It makes him look actually insane or at least obnoxiously obstinate. And I think both assumptions are half right, because this is clearly not the result of mere stupidity. Those truths are simply wayyyy too discordant with his view of himself to devote surface memory to, or too uncomfortable, unless and until, of course, you confront him with them in a fashion where that rubber band has to snap, that bubble pops, and he instantly sobers out of that complacency.

Literally god forbid he ever stops being defective in this way or is given the ability to reckon with the reality of his situation and his history all at once. I’m not even just talking about his job or banishment. I’m talking about his entire life. This chaotic, flexible, incoherent mindstate is the only branch he’s holding onto from dropping into a much more horrifying chasm beneath himself, the depth of which we can only guess. I straight up have no idea what he would do or what could happen to him if he could, even for a moment, rationally comprehend his every action, memory, and empirical truth all at the same time. Seriously, leave that Pak’s Gordian Knot be, or I imagine there could be an HP Lovecraft type of breakdown in the making.

#By the way this is probably one of the most important differences between him and Dib, and what makes Zib so… way he is.

[self-deprogrammed]

All the crazy sh*t that spews forth from Dementia DonOLD’s mouth is in part a DIVERSION so that he doesn’t have to make any substantive statements about policies

**********************

At the same time the Lies are also dogwhistles that trigger his followers PTSD into re-enacting of outsider scapegoats taking the ire of the volcanic tempered Narcisstic loud-mouthed parent(s), pastor(s), or playground ‘leaders’.

The FEAR for those raised with this PTSD is that, if there aren’t outsider scapegoats, then the Narcissist will choose an insider as a scapegoat.

Ultra-Conservatives loath Liberals because we are an existential threat.

Liberals act to reduce/end scapegoating of outsider groups.

The Ultra-Conservatuve opposition is irrational since the Liberal agenda doesn’t hurt them.

However their response is perfectly rational in their re-enactment of childhood-youth survival skills.

[stuffromymind]

PROFESSIONAL VICTIM.

What sane, rational person, (IE: Someone who isn't a psychopath), after being shot at and while bleeding pumps their fist in the air like Benito Mussolini and screams: "FIGHT! FIGHT!", before throwing off a few Nazi salutes?

I'll tell you:

A clinical psychopath who is also a Professional Victim.

A malignant narcissist who doesn't care for a second about the 10s of 1,000s of people he's killed with lies and propaganda.

The father who was killed because he took his family to a Hate Rally, the other 2 injured in the shooting:

Trump doesn't care about them.

Not. For. A. Second.

He will play the martyr, he will be a Whiny Little B***** about this but will he and his party joke about it and laugh the way they all did about an old man being nearly killed with a hammer, simply because of that victim's wife's job?

Nah! Time to play the Victim Card.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

To Maintain The Lie

Series: Rational Thinking Part Four

Summary: What does one call themselves when they are neither hero nor villain? Is there a word for those merciful lies told in order to champion truth? Where is the line between necessity and morality? You're not the hero in this story and you're not the villain. You're just the surgeon who stops a heart to prevent more pain. What a shame it is that life just isn't fair. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Warnings: Cannon typical violence, angst, language, some gore. I can't exactly call any of this fluff but these two are so in love it kinda makes me sick.

A/N: This part got so long that I had to split it in half. Expect a few pov changes as I try to widen the scope on this fic. (Or maybe I'm just showing off. Who knows?) Now, let's start the show.

🔪STORY BEGINS BELOW 🔪

Whoever first claimed that they were too young to die was an arrogant, entitled, narcissistic asshole. For you see, such a statement implied that life - or more accurately - death was somehow bound, or at least could be, by a human sense of restraint or equity. It alleged that there was such a thing as an age below which the universe simply could or should not tolerate a human being's loss of life.

But Jeremy Gilbert knew the truth. There was no such thing as fair. Equity was nothing more than a fantasy that humanity had invented to make themselves feel better because people die every day and the universe doesn’t give a damn how young they are. Some claim that tragedies and pain happen for a reason - that there’s a reward in the end for those who endure - but Jeremy didn’t believe that. No, he’d been suffering his whole damn life and every reward he thought he’d received had been mercilessly ripped away from him and if there was a reason for it, then it was not one he could see. Though, perhaps his true reward was nothing quite so grand as one would hope. Perhaps his only solace would be an escape from living with the crushing weight of loss. For now, it seemed, Jeremy Gilbert would die as he had lived - suffering.

So whoever it was that had first claimed themselves too young to die - that person was an arrogant, entitled, narcissistic asshole, he decided. Because he was dying - alone in the darkness and the dirt - and he was only seventeen.

There was nothing fair in that.'

"Damon, stop!" Elena's voice cried out from somewhere in the distance. The sound wasn't too far behind him - it was uncomfortably close. 

Jeremy Gilbert ground his teeth, dragging his broken body across the forest floor. Blood seeped from a gash in his arm. It was deep - the kind that would require stitches, but he couldn't afford to worry about that right now. For the moment, he needed to focus on surviving.

Y/N had warned him. She'd warned him, and he hadn't listened.

Jeremy bit his lip to keep himself from screaming as he shoved himself upward with all his might. His back slammed into a tree, and the boy gasped as a flash of pain shot through him. It mellowed out a moment later, joining the ambient agony he'd henceforth acquired. Adrenaline was dulling the worst of it which wasn't exactly encouraging. He didn't even want to consider how much pain he would be in if he survived this.

"I can't, Elena!" Damon's voice retaliated. "I've spent far too long engineering our mutual destruction already. Jeremy's Hunter's Mark puts us all in danger - puts you in danger!" 

“Jeremy’s my brother, Damon!” Elena argued. “Don’t you understand? He would never hurt me!”

Wouldn’t he? Jeremy wasn’t so sure anymore, not after hearing what Elena had done to his best friend and she’d done that while she was human. His sister was a vampire now. She had changed since the accident and not for the better. Jeremy could see it, even if he didn’t want to. If Elena lost control, if she did something bad - hurt someone, killed someone - if she couldn’t control it, then was it not his responsibility to protect people from her? Even if that meant putting her down?

But no. No, it wasn’t. Since when had it ever been his responsibility to hurt anyone, regardless of what they’d done? Jeremy was a damn teenager for crying out loud! He wasn’t a soldier - he was a kid! 

A-and killing Elena? That wasn’t him! Jeremey loved his sister. He loved her! Yet, those thoughts had sounded so reasonable and far too close to his own, blending so seamlessly he hardly noticed.

“No, Elena! It’s you who doesn’t understand,” Damon snapped. “I saw that kid draw a stake on the only real friend he’s ever had! Jeremy was ready to kill her and he didn’t even notice! How much longer before that’s you?”

Maybe Damon was right…

What was this hunter’s mark doing to him? 

Jeremy's sister said something else, but his enhanced hearing wasn't strong enough yet to catch it. Besides, his senses seemed to be fading in and out of focus at the moment, so he didn't bother with straining to hear, opting to draw his semi-auto from his waistband instead. He still had some fight left in him.

“We’ll find another way, Elena. You can’t take the cure if you’re dead.” The elder Salvatore's words filtered through the trees. "I'm doing what has to be done."

"NO!"

So this was how he was going to die. Was it a bad thing that he hoped this time would be permanent? Surely he'd served his sentence by now, hadn't he?

When Damon stalked out from between the trees in front of him, Jeremy knew his time was up. Sure, he had regrets - hell, he had more than he could count. Sure, he was supposedly too young to die, but when had that ever mattered in this godforsaken town? Sure, he knew he didn't deserve this fate, though for better or worse, this was the one he'd chosen. 

No, Jeremy Gilbert didn't want to die, but he had come to terms with his fate long before this moment. After all, he'd died and come back a few times already. (He wasn't sure whether that made him lucky or not.) He'd been living on borrowed time for a long while and he wasn't even sure if he'd really been alive for any of it. If now was his time to go, then he'd go out with a fight and smile when it was finally over. 

Whether Damon was right or not, Jeremy Gilbert was not about to go quietly into that good night. No, that boy had suffered far too much to make his death easy on whatever forces of nature demanded that he die before graduating high school. So, he thanked the Lord in heaven for the extra lives he'd been given - 'cause most other people only get the one - and he raised that gun in his hand to point at Damon's black, black heart.

"You're hesitating," The vampire noted. 

"There's only one bullet left," Jeremy replied, voice as dry as a desert as he stared that monster down unblinkingly.

"Good to know." Damon huffed a laugh. "Well, this is it, Baby Gilbert. No hard feelings?"

"Nah, I've got a few… dick."

Damon smirked. The cold, unhallowed blackness of the night around them filled his cold, dead eyes, spilling over like bleeding cracks down his cheeks. Jeremy's own eyes narrowed and the breath that left his lips, undoubtedly his last, turned to mist in the chilling evening air. His vision from exhaustion swam and his hand with three broken fingers shook because that gun was heavier than he'd thought it was going to be just a few months ago. In spite of his failing body, he did his best to aim as his finger tightened on the trigger.

The boy's soon-to-be murderer hissed and staggered back, but didn't drop dead. Jeremy had missed the monster's heart. That was alright, he supposed. After all, he was only a junior in high school - not a marksman, not a soldier, not even an adult - just a kid whose story was ending before it ever should have had to begin.

Jeremy lowered the gun and closed his eyes as Damon rushed forward.

Yet death, it would seem, was not quite ready to take him.

A breeze passed in front of his face and a growl ripped from Damon's throat. Jeremy opened his eyes. There in front of him stood Y/N, arms grappled around Damon's. It was a wrestler's hold she had him in, some random part of his dying brain noted. (The Olympic sort of wrestling, not the WW-E kind because he absolutely needed to know that in his last moments.) Damon’s face contorted into a grimace and he hissed, shoving the girl harshly. Y/N ground her teeth, digging her feet into the soil beneath them, and pushed back with a shout, refusing to lose. But Damon was older, and thus significantly stronger than she was. Her feet slid back inch by inch, but it wasn’t enough. 

Damon’s low growl morphed into a scream of pain and he reeled back. Jeremy’s stubbornly useless vision cleared just enough for him to see the smoke that curled off the elder Salvatore’s arms. 

“Oh, look. Tiny Sherlock’s here to save the day.” He backed off a couple of steps and took to prowling back and forth like a leopard searching for a chink in the armor of its prey. "Crazy how you always show up where you're least wanted."

Mist left the mouth of Jeremy's best friend in small puffs, her entire body was tensed in anticipation and Jeremy couldn't help but wonder who'd taught her how to fight. 

"What can I say?" The girl huffed, flicking a few loose strands of hair out of her face. "It's a talent."

Damon's footing shifted slightly to the right and Y/N adjusted her own to match, keeping herself between Jeremy and his intended murderer. The lips of the raven-haired vampire curled.

“Still can’t win a fight without cheating, I see,” He snarled bitterly.

On her arms, he now noticed, the girl wore a pair of sleek black gloves that extended up a ways past her elbows. She adjusted them carefully, staring the other vampire down as she did so and Jeremy’s addled brain finally made the connection. Vervain.

“Last I checked, there’s no such thing as cheating when a life is at stake. You taught me that, Damon.” Her voice was as icy and sharp as a winter storm. There were raging winds howling in the night behind her eyes. “Then again, I suppose that only applies when it’s Elena you’re saving. Anyone else be damned, right?” 

“I like to think it only applies once you’ve proven yourself.” Damon smirked. “Take off those gloves, why don’cha? I’m curious. Let’s see if you can beat me in a fair fight.”

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “You must really think I’m dumb, huh?”

“Nah, I just think you’re a coward,” He retorted.

“You’re wrong.” Y/N’s body shifted into a stance that was clearly defensive - an odd tactic for a person whose motto was “the best defense is a swift and decisive offense” - but usually it was only herself she was protecting. Now, she had to worry about Jeremy too and he couldn’t do a thing to help her. It wasn't often that the boy would admit to being useless but his body was seriously broken.

“Then prove it,” Damon challenged.

The girl just shook her head, eyes narrowing. Her expression was one of furious hail and tempestuous wind and her tone was made of frozen spears. “I have nothing to prove to the likes of you - ignorant, arrogant, faithlessly paranoid, pathologically manipulative, inconsequential scrap of agoraphobic slime. ” 

The expression that dawns across a person’s face when they realize they no longer hold any power over another, is somewhat hard to describe. It begins as something close to surprise, then morphs into indignation, before settling on cold hatred. 

Damon's black eyes narrowed. "You should have stayed dead."

"Funny," Y/N, hummed. "Did your dad say the same thing?"

He snarled in rage and leaped forward, sweeping his leg out to bring Y/N crashing down on her back. Then, he whirled to make a grab for Jeremy. All he would need was a millisecond - a quick snap of the neck and it was done. But Y/N wasn't going to let that happen. Her arm shot out and grasped Jeremy by the ankle, yanking hard. He cried out in pain as twigs and roots and who knows what else, shredded his back as she dragged his body behind hers and rolled onto her side. Damon reached toward her, but her foot lashed out and she landed a kick to the outstretched hand. Jeremy's enhanced senses discerned the telltale snap of breaking bone. The raven-haired vampire stumbled back, cursing and Y/N was up on her feet again in a second. Parrying his clumsy left hook, Y/N sent her knee flying into his stomach which knocked the wind out of him and gave her the opening she needed to get her hands around his throat.

A strangled sound escaped him, a mix of pain and breathlessness, as she pushed him back, vervain gloves burning his skin. He tried to rip her hands off him but only succeeded in torching his own as well. Throwing his weight backward sent both opponents to the ground and gave him a shot to roll out of her grip. Unfortunately, this was a move the girl was quite familiar with and she knew just how to counter it. She shifted her weight as they fell, curling her knees in. When Damon's back hit the dirt, her knees landed on his diaphragm. He lost most - if not all - of his remaining air and when he, in a daze, tried to move his arm, Y/N threw one leg out to the side to step on it. 

Jeremy was vaguely reminded of Black Widow.

Damon sputtered and coughed on the ground for a few seconds before falling silent but the girl didn't release him until his foot stopped twitching. Then she got up and raced over to the Gilbert boy, effortlessly lifting him off the ground in a fireman's carry.

"Day-um, Jerry-Berry!" The girl huffed, grinning at him. "What are you doing goin' around with all this beef? You're supposed to be a stick!"

Jeremy just raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well - fighting for your life on a daily basis tends to do that to you." He was too tired to be witty. 

She snorted. "Touche." 

The boy closed his eyes and let his head roll back. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but uh - what the hell are you doing here?" He asked.

"No time to explain!" She answered brightly. "Hold on tight!"

Trees and plants were whizzing by in an instant, and Jeremy tried to ignore how his stomach dropped. He'd always liked roller coasters, but somehow the sensation was different when he was experiencing excruciating pain - the kind that's white-hot and threatens to make one throw up. He hissed as his best friend came to a sudden stop.  

She cursed. 

"He's back up," She said, turning around to watch the trees. "I was hoping to run you all the way, but we're not gonna make it. Can you stand?"

"I dunno... Maybe?" He shook his head. "Wait, what are you talking about? Where are we running to?" He demanded, hissing when the girl set him on his feet.

"No time. Do you think you can run?"

Jeremy's lips pressed into a thin line, annoyed. "Depends on where I'm going," He insisted.  

"Away from here!" Came her non-answer. He sent her a flat look and she frowned. "Come on, Jer. Don't you trust me?"

He wanted to say yes - immediately and without a doubt, yes. But how could he? Vampirism changed people. He hardly even recognized his own sister some days and he was beginning to wonder if the friend he'd thought he'd lost in Denver was the same girl who'd come back. She was trying to be the same, but her efforts felt to him like a snake trying to fit into a skin it had outgrown. There was this energy - wild and whimsical - that seeped between the edges now and it reminded him far too much of the person she now ran with. Jeremy wanted to trust her. 

But Kol Mikaelson? 

Never again.

"I don't know why you're helping me," He said with a sigh. He was so tired of this - running circles around trust and always being betrayed. To his surprise, the girl didn't get upset. She just nodded. 

"I'm helping because I like you alive… dumbass." Her voice was thin but it held a flicker of humor and warmth. "There's a car parked out on the road just beyond those trees." She pointed. "It's that Dodge Hellcat I always said I was gonna buy - can't miss it. I'll buy you as much time to get there as I can. Don't stop, and whatever you do, don't look back. Okay?" 

He hesitated just a moment but nodded. "Okay."

"What are you waiting for? GO!"

So he did. Jeremy ran as fast as his damaged legs could carry him, squinting through the tears in his eyes as the pain rose to a fever pitch. He ground his jaw against it, but he didn't stop, nor did he look back - even when he heard his best friend scream.

He burst through the trees after what felt like an eternity. Glancing up and down the street, he found the car Y/N had told him to look for. It was silver, just like she always said it would be. He limped towards it, his heart threatening to give out. Jeremy collapsed about five feet away, agony burning through every cell in his body but he refused to give up. He crawled the rest of the way, grasped the door handle with bloodied fingers, and flung himself into the passenger's seat.  

Every muscle in his body trembled as he forced himself to relax, groaning.

"This is insane," He breathed, tipping his head back against the headrest.

"Oh, it's about to get even better."

That all too familiar voice sent ice shooting through his veins. Jeremy slowly turned his head to see none other than Kol Mikaelson, smirking in the driver's seat. Their eyes met for a moment and both refused to blink. Kol’s mouth stretched into a grin while Jeremy’s own twisted into a grimace. Ten heartbeats. His hand flew to the door but Jeremy was met with the telltale click of the door’s lock before he could touch it. The human groaned.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

***

"Start the car, start the car, start the car!" You barreled out of the trees and raced for your beloved vehicle. Your boyfriend had been right - you should have brought the Jeep. "Start the f-ing car, Kol!"

You dove through the door's open window and into the backseat just as the engine roared to life. 

"Freaking FLOOR IT!" You ordered, unceremoniously shoving yourself upright. Kol floored it. Rubber burned and tires squealed but somehow zero to sixty in 3.4 seconds didn't seem fast enough with a determinedly homicidal vampire chasing you.

"This feels like a bad idea!" Jeremy cried over the roar of the open windows. He'd never admit it but mingled with the terror in his voice, there was also exhilaration. 

"Come off it, Jer," You said, smirking. "You know you've always wanted to go this fast." You patted his hand which clung to the armrest for dear life and leaned down. "Now, where did I put that thing?"

"Don't tell me you lost it, love," Kol teasingly complained from up-front. "Those things are dangerous, you know. Just think of what would happen if everyone were as irresposible with them as you are."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up you. Jeremy, don't agree with him." Your friend snorted and winced. Scrabbling around under the seat, your hand found cold metal and supple leather. "Found it." 

You grabbed the gun and sat up, ducking your head back out the window and twisting to aim at the streak of black that burst onto the road. Muggy summer wind whipped through your hair as the car accelerated to dangerous speeds down an unlit small-town road, though you would trust the boy at the wheel with more than just your life. 

Despite your vehicle's considerable speed of two hundred and three miles per hour, the black streak raced after you, slowly but surely gaining. You opened fire, trying to keep your aim steady, but the country road was less than standard. 

"Could you hit any more potholes?" You complained, reaching into the front seat. Kol pushed a new magazine into your palm and you quickly reloaded. 

"I don't know," He replied. "Are you aiming for the wretch's heart or his knees?"

You snorted. "More like his face."

"Admirable." He smirked. "Let him get a little closer."

"What?!" Both you and Jeremy demanded at the same time. You whirled around, eyes wide. Kol glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

"Trust me," He said. 

Trust. You could give him that.

You stopped firing. "And… that's the last of the ammo," You lied, speaking just loud enough for Damon to hear. He seemed to take that as encouragement. 

"Get your pretty little head back in here, please," Kol said pleasantly. You raised a brow but retreated back into the Hellcat. Twisting around, you had a decent view of the raven-haired vampire as he pushed closer and closer to the car's bumper.

"He's getting pretty close," You warned.

"Not yet, love," Came the response from the front seat. 

You sent him a flat look. "You're being just so comforting right now."

"Isn't it wonderful?"

You made a non-committal noise and checked the rear window again. 

"You guys argue like an old married couple." Pain morphed Jeremy's laugh into something that sounded more like a wheeze. You weren't quite sure how he could laugh when his life was at stake, but you took a little solace from it. 

"Aww, thanks."

"Don't thank him," Kol scoffed. "He just called you old."

"If I'm old, what does that make you?"

He just grinned. "Classic."

You smacked his shoulder and checked your flank again.

"You know, I never thought my life would be reduced to Death Cab lyrics," You observed, somewhat wryly, hands wrapped like a vice around the gun.

Under Kol's compulsion, Damon wouldn't give up the chase until Jeremy was either dead or outside the state of Virginia. It was odd. You had been the architect of this clever ploy, yet it would seem you hadn't fully anticipated how nerve-wracking your role within it would be.

Thus, the state line really did feel like the Berlin wall.

You just hoped you could reach it in time.

"Is now really the best time to be quizzing me on song lyrics?" Kol wondered, expertly rounding a bend at a speed no human could manage.

You shrugged. "Good a time as any."

He huffed a laugh and you suppressed a smile. It warmed you up inside to have someone who not only understood but who loved you for your nine-track mind.

"Crooked Teeth," He answered, somewhat smug. 

"Ah, he does pay attention," You mused distractedly. Behind you, that black streak drew within twenty feet. "Remind me, what are we waiting for exactly?"

"The opportune moment," Kol replied.

"So like, right now?"

"Nope."

Fifteen feet and closing.

"Now?"

"Wait."

Ten feet and closing.

"Kol - I love you - but you're really starting to worry me!" You said, watching Damon inch ever nearer.

"Patience, my flower." He purred, calm as a quiet grove after rain. 

Five feet.

"Sweetheart, he is literally riding our coattail!" You exclaimed, eyes wide.

Kol smirked. "Perfect." He glanced back at you. "Give Jeremy a hug, will you?"

Your eyes flew wide.

In that instant, a spark in your brain - that terrible blessing you'd been cursed with - flared to life. Calculations raced through your head, outpacing Newton's laws in the milliseconds before the impact.

Kol slammed on the breaks and time slowed.

(Solve the problem. Solve the problem. Solve the problem.)

4,000 pounds of carbon-fiber and steel traveling at 203 miles an hour - approximately 300 feet or 91 meters per second. That makes for a momentum of 364,000 pounds. 

(Fascinating but irrelevant. Get back on track.) 

A Dodge Hellcat's stopping distance equates to 107 feet at sixty miles an hour which becomes 368 feet at top speed, decelerating the vehicle in approximately 1.7 seconds. 

(You're running out of time. Think faster. Think faster.)

364,000 pounds of force brought to a standstill in 1.7 seconds results in a negative g-force of 5.48 exerted on the body.

(But what does that do? You have to act. Solve the problem.)

Three individuals in the vehicle. One vulnerable to breakage. Instant death - possible, but unlikely. Prioritize potential injuries - whiplash, concussion, internal hemorrhaging, ocular and auditory trauma, acute systemic failure, and aneurysm. 

(Time to react. What are you going to do?)

Conclusion: Mind the head.

You threw your arms up just in time to catch Jeremy's head as physics made an admirable effort to huck the entirety of the car's interior through the windshield. The grinding of gears and the screaming of tires on asphalt met your ears as inertia attempted to bifurcate the front seat using your body - a rather unpleasant experience, though you would take the physical pain of a few broken ribs over the anguish of losing your best friend any day. Smoke obscured your vision and the scent of burning rubber assaulted your nose, but you pushed through it, opening your eyes.

"And he sticks the landing!" Kol announced, glib as ever. "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen."

"Kol-" You groaned, pushing yourself up to rest an elbow on his seat. "-you hurt my baby."

That car was your second love and whosoever was responsible would be intensely sorrowful should you find so much as a scratch in her paint.

"Eh, she's fine." He waved a hand dismissively. "Though, you may need to clean her up a bit because et voila!" The boy gestured behind the vehicle and you twisted around, squinting at the tarmac.

Damon's undead corpse, now quite prone, rested about fifty feet behind the car. Road rash would be a very tame description of his injuries seeing as about half his body was missing and most of his insides were splayed across the thoroughfare. He must have collided with the back of the car and flipped over the roof before being ground up by the wheels like rotten tomatoes in a blender. There was quite a lot of blood.

You turned back, grinning.

"Well, that's one problem taken care of!"

***

"You guys are insane," Jeremy groaned, rubbing his eyes. They hurt and he worried they might fall out of his head after that impact. On the bright side, he wasn't dead.

Y/N had tried to protect him, so that was something.

"You're just now figuring that out?" In the driver's seat, Kol tossed his head back, laughing. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the hyena laugh this time. It was warmer, more sincere. Jeremy just rolled his eyes, stretching out his aching neck.

"You good, Jer?" Y/N asked from the back seat. She reached up to squeeze his shoulder comfortingly.

A sharp pain burned in his chest as he shrugged. "I'm fine, I think. No thanks to your boyfriend here." Breathing hurt.

“Oh, bloody hell, mate!" It was Kol's turn to roll his eyes. "How many times do I need to say I’m not going to kill you?” He questioned, smirking amusedly.

“At least a hundred times after you stop trying,” Jeremy said. Though it pained him to speak, like something sharp writhing around in his chest, he expected that would fade. It wasn't like they'd been in a serious crash and as long as the injury wasn't critical or something that would require a cast, then the healing his Hunter's Mark provided would take care of it, he figured as the car began moving again - in less of a hurry this time.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, the stabbing pain did not recede. If anything, it worsened. Discomfort built in his chest, thick and hot. 

As if he could sense it coming, Kol passed him a handful of tissues. Jeremy took them, albeit a little confused. Seconds later, a fit of rasping, retching, burning coughs tore through him. The boy doubled over, hacking into the tissues for longer than he wanted to think about. When his lungs finally calmed, Jeremy’s throat felt disturbingly wet. 

The vehicle was silent for three heartbeats.

"Jeremy?" Y/N's voice was very soft - filled with something more than worry.

“That…” Kol spoke up. “That did not sound good.”

Jeremy looked up only to be met with a sight he would have otherwise thought impossible. The original vampire’s eyes were wide and his mouth pressed into a thin line - his hand lingered in the air, half outstretched. Kol looked concerned - actually, genuinely concerned. He pointed to Jeremy’s hands. 

“And that’s definitely not good.”

Jeremy looked down. The wadded-up tissues were stained red, red, red. Yeah, that wasn’t the best sign. Jeremy felt dizzy. Breathing really hurt. His eyes felt heavy and everything smelled like pennies.

"What's going on?" Y/N demanded. "Kol, what can you see? Why is he coughing up blood? "

Damn it. Was he dying again?

Wow, his thoughts were really loud. More words were invading his ears but he only caught a few.

"-chest doesn’t seem to be caving… Did Damon hit your back?” Kol was asking. Sound was blurry.

“I, uh -” He thought about that. Thinking was hard and he was really tired. “He pushed me into a rock.”

Kol nodded, frown deepening. He glanced backward, meeting Y/N's eyes with a grim expression. "Can you hear it too?"

"I-I don't know," Y/N stammered, uncharacteristically unsure. "I mean, I hear something, but I don't know-"

"Yes, you do," Kol interrupted. "You know better than I, but I can't be sure unless you tell me. I know you would love to think you're just making it up, but if we can both hear it..." He trailed off.

The girl nodded, lips pressed into a line - eyes rimmed with red. "Yeah," She whispered. "I can hear it."

Kol nodded and turned back, his face a mask of calm. There was no snide smirk or predatory gleam. It was oddly comforting. 

“Alright there, mate. Don’t panic - but from what I can hear, it sounds like something has punctured your lungs, possibly a rib. I could make sure, but I’d have to touch your back.”

The hunter sent him a very flat look. He might have been dizzy and critically injured, but he wasn't stupid.

“You literally tried to Chewbacca my arms a few hours ago,” Jeremy wheezed. He wanted to take a deep breath but his lungs felt smaller than they should be. “Hands off.”

Kol rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. “I panicked, alright?”

Jeremy raised a brow. “You pani-”

He was cut off by another vicious round of choked coughs. Blood spewed liberally from his lips this time and his chest felt hot and tight. Jeremy felt weak, weaker than he’d ever felt and he couldn’t breathe. 

“Oh, bloody hell. That’s definitely a punctured lung.” Kol laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, Jeremy? Stay with me, alright?"

There was so much blood on the tissues and his hands. Some faint voice in the back of his mind told him he should be unconscious by now. The Mark was probably the only thing keeping him alive. He felt light-headed.

“I-I don’t want your help,” Jeremy spat past the blood in his mouth. “I’ll heal.” 

The original shook his head. “Not from this. Not on your own.” He cursed quietly and threw the car into gear, flooring the accelerator. 

"What can we do?" Y/N asked, voice thin - one hairsbreadth away from snapping. "Kol, what can I do? Just tell me what to do!"

"Nothing, darling. Don't do anything."

"I can't just sit here!" She protested. "If I give him my blood, that'll help right?"

“Under normal circumstances, I'd say yes; however, considering his Hunter's Mark, I fear his body might reject it - that could just make things worse," The original explained. His expression grew ever darker, like the summer sky as it prepared to unleash a tornado.

Y/N cursed and Jeremy's vision grew dark. His eyes threatened to close. He was so tired. 

Kol shook him a little, sending pain soaring through his system and snapping him back to attention. He was fading - Jeremy was fading fast. “Hey, listen to me, alright? We’re going to get you to a hospital. You’re going to be alright, mate. Just stay awake. Just keep those eyes open and you’ll be fine - Y/N, keep him awake. Do not let him fall unconscious.”

Jeremy scowled, fighting against a tide of pain and exhaustion that threatened to pull him under. “What do you care?” He demanded.

“Are you kidding?” Kol flashed him a wry smile. “Y/N would have my head if I let you die.”

"Got that right." His best friend chuckled from the back seat and through the haze, Jeremy felt her fingers tangle with his. "You're gonna be okay, Jerrie-berry," She whispered. "I promise."

***

You'd always hated hospitals.

Now, perhaps that animosity could have been chalked-up to the slightly disturbing notion that was your current existence - seeing as the only room in such an establishment you could rightfully belong in now was the morgue. (A rather unpleasant thought, any way you slice it.) However, you'd never really been fazed by the whole "undead" thing. You didn't really think of yourself as dead - merely experiencing alternative states of mortality. So, none of that really upset you.

It was the dishonesty of the whole thing, you decided. Yes, that was it. 

A hospital was merely one gigantic lie.

The walls and floor were far too white for a place steeped so thickly with blood and death. Instruments, people, floors, walls, and ceilings were barren, scrubbed within an inch of their lives. In an institution that idolized wellness and health, the halls were much too stark and silent, empty of all life save for the souls who were paid to be there. Even the guest accommodations were deceitful. Chairs sporting upholstery that looked like it should have been soft on frames that should have been somewhat comfortable, all came up disappointingly short. 

The feeble whimpers of the sick and dying - hundreds of them - thrummed in your ears. Doctors that proffered the hope of extended life - of more time - fragile conjunctures they couldn't guarantee. Eyes that smiled with mouths that grimaced beneath masks.

It was all a lie.

Your hands clenched into fists.

"Hey, hey…" Kol's soft voice was there at your ear in a millisecond. His right hand covered yours, squeezing comfortingly while his other combed expertly through your hair. "Don't get upset. It's alright, he's doing just fine. No need to get worked up, darling. You're alright."

You'd ranted to him about this before. A deep-rooted hatred for hypocrites and self-righteous insincerity was something you shared, though not quite in all the same ways. He'd found your distaste for hospitals funny then - not here though, not now.

You nodded - a hollow gesture just like this hollow pantheon of medicine. Telling yourself that he would be fine felt like a lie. Not that Kol would ever lie to you, not intentionally. He was generally the more optimistic one, though.

It wasn't a lie itself that you hated. (After all, some lies are necessary; like the one you found yourself tangled in.) Rather, it was the concept of pointless lies that you abhorred. Deceit without true purpose irked you. Why couldn't people just say what they meant - what they knew to be true? Kol was only trying to make you feel better and you understood that, but you didn't want empty comfort. 

You didn't want to feel peaceful now - happy, hopeful - if you were just going to be sad later.

What was the point in feeling good now, if you were only going to feel sad later?

Kol had told you what despair was. You didn't want to feel that again.

But that wasn't up to you. Fate's cruel strings lay in the hands of those doctors in the room before you, carving up your best friend in an attempt to save his life.

From where you sat, nestled firmly in Kol's lap, you could hear the doctors working on Jeremy. The prognosis wasn't good. Yet, the boy in whose arms you rested still offered you hope.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can stay here with you," He murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. It took all the strength you had to nod again, trying to hold it together, but the rest of your body betrayed you. Your trembling hands constricted, nails digging into his skin. Kol just held you tighter. "I know, I know. I'm pathetic, but all the free food around here is getting to me, love," He tried to joke.

Curiously, you found yourself wroth with him all of a sudden. Why couldn't he just ignore it? Why couldn't he just focus? Keeping the hunger in check really wasn't that hard. Why did he struggle so badly? 

Why did he want to leave you when you needed him most? Why did everyone always leave you?

"Darling, please say something."

You hadn't said a word since the doors to the operating room closed. That was three hours ago. So what?

You looked up at him, eyes empty.

"Are you leaving me too?" You wondered. Your tone wasn't aggressive or snide, though for anyone else it would have been.

Kol's chocolate eyes traded worry for anguish, but the pain in them wasn't for himself. Tangling his fingers in your hair, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours - warm and soft but absent of the usual fluid heat his kisses sent dripping down your spine. Inside, you just felt cold.

"No, Y/N," The boy promised. "I'm not leaving you. Not now - not ever." He drew you closer, tucking your head under his chin. He swayed back and forth slightly - no one had ever held you with such care. "Though I may not always be by your side every moment of every day, I will be here when you need me. I'm not going to leave you and neither will Jeremy."

"Don't pretend to care about him," You sighed bitterly. 

"Oh, I don't." Kol hummed. "But you do and the last thing I want is to see you hurting. That's how it is when you love someone."

You huffed. "Sounds annoying."

"Not when it's you."

"That's nice."

He shrugged. "You could use a little nice."

"Who are you and what have you done with Kol Mikaelson?" A smirk tugged at your lips, though you didn't quite permit it. Your mouth had always run faster than your head anyway so there was no real need to end that tradition. 

He laughed and you felt that boy's teeth nip a little at your ear. "Oh, now that was uncalled for."

You hummed, but couldn't find it within yourself to keep teasing. Kol pressed another kiss to your hair and the two of you just sat quietly for a moment.

"How do you know he's gonna make it?" You asked, pursing your lips to keep them from trembling.

Kol shook his head softly. "I don't," He admitted. He took a deep breath and continued, sounding pensive. "That's the problem with the world today, I think. Everyone, everywhere… as a people, you've all lost faith." The boy tugged at a lock of your hair, twirling it around and around his finger. "And in that loss, you know longer know what you can trust."

"Trust?" You scoffed. "Trust who? Those doctors in there? My only friend's lungs are impaled on his ribcage. What can they really do besides make sure he dies a little less dead?"

That sweet boy pulled away from you, just enough to look into your eyes as he lifted your chin with his finger.

"Trust Jeremy, Y/N - trust your friend. Trust that he loves you, despite his faults and misgivings, and trust that he's fighting for life at this very moment."

Your words came out quite broken and you knew you must be crying. "And if that's not enough?"

"Then trust me," He said. "Trust that I'll protect you when things go wrong - from fate and from yourself."

You nodded and this time, it wasn't so empty.

"Alright," You said, curling up in his lap a little more. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

"I know you can," He said. You turned your gaze toward the doors of the operating room once more. 

"He can never find out what we did." Your voice was spider silk - thinner than a hair, yet pound for pound stronger than steel. Kol nodded, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

"And he never will."

***

Niklaus Mikaelson was, by no means, an expert in all things magical. (No, that title fell to his little brother - a terrifying thought, truly. Maddening that fact was, every time he permitted himself to dwell on it for any length of time.) However, he supposed that his status as an original vampire - hybrid actually, to be more precise, but that was irrelevant at the moment - ought to make him the local authority on the subject of compulsion, or more prudently, the compulsion of other vampires.

Damon Salvatore, on the other hand, was an unsavory lad in the purest definition of the locution. Strong-willed, and pig-headed, he reminded Klaus somewhat of a coyote - that is, if a coyote could be driven by spite. Thus the possibility seemed extremely remote that one such as Damon Salvatore would take well to compulsion. Any action taken by him, if not of his own willful volition, even if he weren't aware of it, would be made obvious to others by his subconscious mind in an attempt to spite whoever had compelled him. In other words, the man was just too damn stubborn for mind control to work properly.

"So?" The irritating Bennet witch demanded as Klaus strolled leisurely from the cramped and filthy confines of the Salvatore's basement. Honestly, he was no clean freak, but he had heard of this brilliant invention called a mop. "What's the verdict?" 

"I'm afraid I have to diagnose your friend with a terminal case of stupidity," The hybrid said, smirking amusedly. His eyes flicked briefly around the room, scanning for any sign of a trap. He found none, but that only served to heighten his suspicion. Legend hadn't deemed him a paranoid genius for nothing.

The young girl didn't seem to find his jest humorous. Her eyes narrowed, glowering at him the same way her ancestors used to.

"Has he been compelled or not?" She pressed, teeth grinding.

All pretenses of mirth dropped from Klaus' face. "As best I can tell, no," He answered grimly. "I'm afraid his actions… unexpected and jarring as they may be, are entirely his own."

"What?" The doppelganger gasped. "That-that can't be right! Kol - your brother must have compelled him. I'm sure of it!"

The hybrid's eyes flicked in her direction. Behind her - silent and stoic as a mountain with impeccable hair - stood the younger Salvatore brother. Regrettable it was, Klaus thought, that he'd resigned to being so boring. Stefan's expression decided to take a respite from brooding long enough to avow contemplation. 

"Your accusations - while just and reasonable - don't particularly matter, love," Klaus said with a slight shrug. "He hasn't been compelled, or if he has, then he's under the most complex and thorough compulsion I've ever encountered."

"But how do you know it wasn't your brother who did it?" Asked a particularly delightful blonde, standing in the furthest corner of the room from him. He had to wonder if she did that on purpose.

"Well, to put it quite simply, Caroline -" He couldn't help but smile when he spoke to her. "- I know my brother's handywork, and this is not it. Comparing the two would be like comparing a sledgehammer to a feather pillow, love. Kol is far too sloppy for this to be his doing."

That last statement in particular wasn't entirely true. Yes, his brother could be careless, but when given proper incentive, he could be every bit as wily and conniving as the woman that created them - if not doubly so. He could outwit the furtive predator he was so often compared to in legend. There was a reason that boy was cited as the worst of the worst - the wildest of the Mikaelson clan. There was a reason Klaus had sooner chosen to ambush and incapacitate his brother rather than risk outright conflict with him. It was intellect that made his brother so deeply formidable; a vast intellect behind a careless facade and he wielded it like a surgeon's instrument. Given any time to think - a second, a heartbeat - Kol would always win. 

He only had one true weakness, one Klaus had so often employed. Kol was a whimsical being - easily and often distracted by every fleeting impulse. Tasks or threats to be handled needed to be clear-cut and direct, clearly defined, and very, very real in order for Kol to handle them. Had Klaus and his family been born in the current century, his little brother would be the kind of boy who puts off writing an essay or studying for a test until the night before it's due. The type to do the homework as the professor is collecting it and still get an A.

So it wasn't that Kol couldn't have compelled Damon - he was most certainly capable of the methodical complexity required - it just didn't seem like his style. 

What was infinitely more likely, and infinitely more troubling, Klaus thought, was the possibility that Kol had quite simply convinced Damon of the danger one very young hunter posed to the ever-precious Miss. Gilbert. Wily Fox was an apt moniker, indeed; even as a child, the former witch had always been so... gifted with persuasion. If not for Rebekah's loud and loyal heart, the hybrid was positive Kol would have turned their little sister against him eventually. 

Thus, if Damon Salvatore was a coyote - a lone, fickle scavenger - then Klaus doubted his brother would have to work hard to sway his judgment. There was something honest about him, something raw, vicious, and candid, that belied his devious ways; it was something Klaus himself could never seem to match. Trepidation is an excellent motivator and Kol certainly had a knack for ghost stories; yet, his stories in particular had long since possessed quite the kicker. 

They were always, always true. 

As a boy, Klaus remembered, Kol had once told villagers around the bonfire of a wraith he'd seen, wandering the woods roundabout the falls. No one believed him then either. On the following morn, that little dark-haired runt of a boy brought home the monster's corpse.

(So, truthfully, Klaus knew he should be on his brother's side this time. However, doing so would conflict with his purposes and the hybrid had never been one to deny himself anything. Especially not something he'd been pursuing for a millennium.)

Damon's actions spoke more to paranoia than undue influence. Paranoia was something Klaus knew intimately. Paranoia cannot be abated.

A dishearteningly sober voice tore the hybrid from his spiraling reverie. 

"Call him," Stefan said. Klaus lifted a brow. Had he not given his conclusion? Were they not done here?

"Pardon?"

"Call him," The stern teenager repeated. "Call your brother and demand he tell you the truth."

Klaus narrowed his eyes and began to pace, hands clasped behind his back - it helped him think.

The other blonde in the room - Rebekah had been henceforth preoccupied with sculpting her nails - hummed. A not-quite-pleasant tone that drew close to amusement with a veiled dose of ire. "Yes, please call him, Nik. Because we all know how demanding things of Kol tends to be a spectacularly pleasant experience."

The hybrid grimaced. She had a point there.

"How do you know he won't just lie?" Bonnie asked, hostility more than prevalent in her tone. 

"He won't," Klaus conceded, almost to himself. 

"How do you know?" Elena pressed. 

Within a blink, he had that pesky doppelganger by the throat, lifting her into the air. "You impugn my word?" He asked pleasantly. 

She didn't struggle. The girl just glared. "Routinely." 

A smirk tugged at his lips and he let her go, returning to his pacing. She coughed and staggered but her pride demanded that she remain upright. That one was becoming more and more like dear Katarina every day. Across the room, Rebekah sighed, flopping onto a sofa the same way she did everything - dramatically. She shaded her eyes with her arm as though she had an agonizing headache, though such pains were physically impossible for the undead to contract. 

"Kol never lies once called out on the act," She declared with finality. "He's been that way since we were children. For all his scheming, the maniac's a bloody awful liar." Klaus huffed a laugh. That bit was true. "Just call him, Nik. I want to get this over with."

Klaus flashed her a scathing look, but she was - as per bloody usual - unfortunately right. He pulled out his phone and dialed Kol's number. He just hoped his little brother remembered how to operate the device. He probably would - Kol remembered everything.

The phone rang once. 

"Put it on speaker," Caroline said, crossing her arms as each of his enemies drew a step closer. He sighed but did as requested.

The phone rang twice and then three times. Only halfway through the fourth ring did the Wily Fox pick up.

"Well, well, well..." His little brother drawled, blithe and cavalier as always. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come barking up the wrong tree. Looks like I've lost a bet." He laughed and it was the cold, empty laugh he'd picked up since touring Africa.

Klaus pointedly ignored the dog pun and instead put on a fake smile. "Well, you know how it is. One does what one must when one's doppelganger comes groveling to one's knees, alarmed by her boyfriend's spontaneously homicidal behavior, and… well, whenever I think of manslaughter I think of you, Kol."

"Really?" The voice on the phone gibed. "That's funny because - and I swear it's like magic - but you open your mouth, and my mind drifts to fratricide... and daggers."

Another jab which Klaus ignored. 

"You seem to have made a mess, little brother," He said.

"Have I? Oh, dear... that must be inconvenient." Klaus could practically hear him grinning. "Say, how is - oh, what's his name? - Damien, was it? Has one of Elena's worshipers managed to scrape his intestines back together or are they permanently smeared into the asphalt?" 

Out of sheer curiosity, Klaus spared Elena a glance. She looked positively murderous. 

"I'm afraid he's going to be just fine."

"That's a shame." Kol hummed.

"It is," He agreed. "However, it so happens that Salvatore's intestines are not the mess I'm referring to." 

The boy gasped, mockingly. "No shit?"

"No," Klaus said, voice clipped. "I'll make this simple for you, Kol. Did you or did you not compel Damon Salvatore to hunt and/or kill Jeremy Gilbert?"

That cold, hyena laugh came again. There was something distinctly raw to it this time, something harsh and strained yet oddly broken; like a wounded animal rather than a rabid one. When he spoke, however, there was nothing in his words save for wrath. 

"You would love that wouldn't you?" Kol spat. "Yet another problem you can solve with a dagger - quick and tidy. You're such a hypocrite! You and Elijah!" His voice quieted and warped into something acidic disguised as honey and song. "And even you, my little sister." The blonde on the couch froze and the color drained from her face. There was fear in her eyes as if she'd seen a ghost. 

"Hello, Rebekah!" Kol practically sang. "I could hear your fingernails drumming, you do that when you're nervous." 

"And why exactly would I be intimidated by you?" Bekah did an excellent impression of boredom but her wide, shaken eyes met Klaus' own in search of reassurance. 

"Oh, sweetheart. Don't think for a second that I don't know what you did in nineteen-fourteen." From carefree and playful to downright vicious, his tone turned on a dime. "You ratted on me, Bex."

Rebekah shot to her feet, fists clenched. "So what, Kol? You're going to take away my only chance at happiness because I told on you?"

"No," Kol snapped. "I am going to save your life because I love you! This cure you think you understand is not your chance at happiness. After all these years, can't you see it? Have you not figured it out? The three of you keep lying to yourselves whilst punishing me for facing the truth.

"WE ARE ALL OF US TRAPPED, REBEKAH! This existence our mother bound us to is a trap and we cannot get out! WE ARE NEVER GETTING OUT! You and Nik can scream and cry and rattle the bars all you wish but none of us are ever going to escape lest we meet a very permanent end." 

"You don't know that!" Their sister cried, tears beginning to verge in her eyes. 

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't! Silas isn't even real!"

"Bloody hell, Rebekah! Why won't you see it? WHY WON'T ANY OF YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME?!" There was desperation in that question and Klaus could only pretend he hadn't heard it.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG!" Rebekah was weeping now. "You're wrong and you're just angry with yourself because we have a chance at getting back what we lost and you're too scared to take it!"

"Do you think I haven't tried?" Kol seethed, voice thick with more pain than any of them could say. "I've searched a thousand years for such a miracle while you did nothing but mourn your own loss. Don't you dare call me a coward for facing the truth! We died, Bex. We died and we're staying dead. Silas or no - this 'cure' is not the answer."

A tense silence hung in the air and Klaus had to break it. He had to because if he didn't then he would admit that his little brother was right.

"You didn't answer the question, Kol," He said cooly, his tone a warning.

"You don't believe me." His little brother gave a bitter, miserable laugh. "Can't say I hoped you would. Well, in that case, I don't suppose I can express just how much it thrills me to report that this particular mess won't be so easily locked away in a casket. I merely tried to convince Damon to examine his priorities - it's not my fault he's been gunning for an excuse to kill the kid."

Elena, trembling with a lover's fury, lost her patience. "YOU LIAR!" She screamed. "You horrid filthy liar!"

"Are those the best insults you've got, love? I'm afraid I've known nuns who've called me worse," Kol jeered. He was back to sounding listless. In the corner, Caroline opened her mouth as if to question, but thought better of it. Klaus smirked at her and shrugged, nodding. She seemed vaguely disturbed by that knowledge. 

Elena, in a startling show of nerve, stormed over to where Klaus stood and snatched the phone from his hands. "Tell me where my brother is, you son of a bitch," She growled. 

The boy on the other end hissed. "Oh, no I'm afraid I can't do that. Telling you would defeat the whole 'Get-Jeremy-the-Hell-Out-of-Dodge' plan which would be going spectacularly had your boyfriend not broken half of the kid's ribs."

Elena paled. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"Are you deaf?" Kol sneered. "As I said, the only person with intentions to cause your brother harm is Damon. I intend to cure him... as soon as he wakes up. Then I'll be more than glad to bring him right back home - that is, if he ever wants to see any of you again. Now, this has all been a thoroughly unpleasant and pointless experience, so if that's all then I'll be hanging up now. Thanks for nothing, brother." There was a short pause and Klaus could have a sword he heard someone speaking on the other end - a girl. Kol's voice returned for one short statement. "Oh, and Stefan? Y/N says hi." 

Then he hung up.

***

Kol got off the phone and sighed, shoulders hunched as though they carried the burden of Atlas. He turned to you, but didn't meet your gaze. His eyes were rimmed with red. You didn't know what to say. You were still so new to the whole feelings thing and you didn't want to mess it up, but you couldn't just abandon him either.

Jeremy was alright now. He was stable and healing quicker than should be possible. He'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few hours since, sleeping in the second bedroom of the hotel you were currently hiding out in. He was fine now and you could think.

Even when you were so wrapped up in your own head - hardly able to think through everything you were feeling - Kol had been there. He had stayed with you at the hospital through it all and he had struggled to do so; curbing his appetite pained him, you knew, but he'd stayed anyway. He had stayed because you needed him and you were okay now, but he wasn't. The least you could do was return the favor.

"Are you alright?" You asked. It was pathetic but you didn't know what else to do. "That sounded… heavy."

Kol bit his lip, trying so hard to smile for you. He didn't want to burden you with his internal struggle when you already had one of your own. But he had been the one to explain to you what love really was. What your cruel mother had led you to believe for so many years was wrong.

Love is not about solving problems. Love is not defined by whether or not one party can "fix" the other. Love didn't mean perfection. It wasn't like that at all.

Love is more like sharing an umbrella. It wasn't necessarily about being shielded from the rain and it didn't matter why one person didn't have an umbrella of their own. What mattered was that the other party was willing to share.

Love is like buying an ice cream cone for someone who's upset. Because sure, it doesn't fix the problem, but perhaps it could warm their heart for a moment. And it didn't matter if the wrong flavor was chosen because the simple existence of that ice cream cone is enough to prove that someone else cares.

Love is like helping someone learn to skate. Picking them back up every time they fall even if that means being pulled down with them sometimes. It means taking a moment to lay on the floor and laugh with them while other people - sometimes many, many other people, who always manage to seem so graceful - move on and around and past you. What matters is working together with that person to stand up and keep going, even if it's only to fall right back down mere seconds later.

Love is like taking a person to Niagara Falls, even though you'd already been. Love is doing things for someone even when they don't ask. Love is like a person jumping into a puddle of mud because a taxi just came by and splashed some all over you. Love is like hate-watching a movie with someone just to listen to them rant about it.

Love wasn't about feeling happy all the time. Sometimes it was just about being sad at the same time.

Love was what you had with Kol.

So when he flashed that strained smile and said - "I'm fine." - you just shook your head.

"No, you're not."

He laughed, bitter and broken. Then he raced across the room and threw his arms around you and you caught him. He didn't fall apart though, because this wasn't the first time and he was used to this same old story even though he should never have needed to be.

"They don't listen," He hissed painfully, face buried in your neck.

Well… you knew what that was like. 

"No." You shook your head. "They don't."

"They would rather cling to their delusions than just trust me."

"People don't trust the things they'd rather fear," You said, combing your fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry fate forged you this way." 

That boy clung to you tighter, grasping handfuls of your shirt. "I suppose that makes us kindred souls, you and I," He muttered. There was acceptance in his voice now. "Made to be hated. Given claws and teeth and punished for them."

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, if that's the case, then I'm glad I became who I am."

"Why?" He asked.

"So you wouldn't always be alone," You decided. "I'm grateful to everything that made me, if all of it was what led me to you."

Kol sighed and shook his head. "Darling, I'm not worth everything that happened to you."

"Yes, you are." Your tone didn't leave room for any further protests on his part, so the two of you simply held each other for a while. He'd been right in what he'd said before. It wasn't annoying - not when it was him.

Once he could breathe a little easier, Kol slid his hands to your thighs and hoisted you up, prompting you to hook your legs around his waist. He walked over to the hotel couch and laid you down, quickly positioning himself over you. Gazing down at you, he just smiled and pushed a lock of hair out of your face. Kol leaned down and met your lips. It was a slow, meaningful kiss and you smiled into it as he let himself unwind, melting against you with a sweetness he showed no one else. Then he stilled. When he pulled away, there was something odd in his eyes. You thought it looked a little bit like dread but there was more to it. He opened his mouth, blinking rapidly and you caught sight of an acute pain that you’d never seen in him before. 

“Kol?” You frowned. 

“I’ve doomed you,” He said quietly, almost to himself. “Bloody hell, darling… I-I’ve just killed you.”

His words left you speechless. Guilt wasn’t an emotion you associated with him.

“What are you-”

“It’s Klaus, don’t you understand?” Kol moved off of you and stood, tearing his hands through his hair. “We took the cure from him. Darling, my brother is never going to stop hunting me for what we’ve done and now I’ve just implicated you!”

You blinked, raising a brow. “Pretty sure I was implicated from day one…” 

“No! No, you weren’t. Only to Elena’s little cult, not to my siblings.” His gestures grew wilder as he paced, hands shaking, breathing erratic. “You were there, but you were nothing. You weren’t important-”

“Ouch.”

“No, don’t you see, love? To them, you-you were just an accessory.”

“I remember Rebekah being very aware that t’was I who stole the twig of destiny,” You pointed out. 

“But you stole it for me,” He maintained. “She didn’t know who you are, what you’re capable of. Neither did my brother but now, with all of them working together…” His voice trailed off and he stopped pacing. His eyes met yours dejectedly, waiting for you to put it together.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Now, Mystic Squad Goals is gonna tattle on me,” You finished. He was right. You’d had a way out before, but that was gone now. “I’m just as guilty as you are.”

Kol sighed and shook his head. Shame rolled off him in waves. “I’m such an idiot.” He cursed quietly. “This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. If I had just taken a moment to think, this never would have happened. Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.”

His head shot up. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not sorry.” You shrugged. Something inside you crumpled, yet you managed to smile. “Life on the run doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, there’s still a lot of stuff I think I wanna see. A-and we can go anywhere, right?” Your laugh wasn’t entirely real but it wasn’t completely fake either. Kol moved to sit beside you with a sigh. 

"Darling, you understand what this means, don’t you?” Kol asked softly, looking at you through the corner of his eyes. You bit down on your lip, nodding though your eyes stung. “If Jeremy chooses to go back…” He hesitated.

“I’ll never see him again,” You whispered. 

He touched your arm, ever so gently. “And you’re ready for that?” He asked. “To say goodbye?”

You wiped your eyes and sniffed. This wasn’t the paralyzing pain you’d felt a few days before. It hurt, yes. But with that pain came the realization that you’d known this was coming. You’d always known, even before vampires came back to Mystic Falls. You’d known that life is a bittersweet thing. Childhood friendships are great but they’re just that. People grow up and grow apart because friends… well, friends aren’t really meant to last forever. They come and go. They live their lives, move away,  fall in love, and have a family - or maybe they don’t. Maybe they get in a car crash and die early, or maybe they spend their life traveling with their dog. Point is, they leave and most people don’t know which goodbye will be their last. 

You would miss Jeremy, of course. But you could live on without him. Just so long as you knew he’d be okay.

Because goodbye doesn't mean the end - not completely - and goodbye can't erase all the happiness that came before it; though, isn't it a miracle that any of it happened at all? Goodbye just means leaving and leaving, you’d discovered, isn’t always a bad thing. Leaving means moving on - finding something new.

“You know, I think I am?” You smiled faintly. “I wasn’t before, because he wasn’t okay. I didn’t want to fail him. But we’re doing something good, I think, and he’ll be better off.” Huffing a laugh, you took Kol’s hand and met his eyes, looking at the boy you had left your old life for.

“So, no. I’m not sorry, Kol.” You decided. “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat as long as I get to stay with you.” 

The smile that broke out across that boy’s lips could have outshone the sun as he pulled your hand to his mouth and left a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

“How did I get so lucky?” He wondered. You bit your lip against a cheezy grin and looked at the floor, feeling your cheeks warm. You still couldn’t help it. After all, Kol was the first person to describe your presence as lucky.

“Save that for when your brother decides not to impale you on a tree,” You said nudging his arm. 

“Ah! That would be the miracle, wouldn’t it?” He said. You hummed in response, nodding. A beat passed between the two of you in silence. Then, you remembered. 

“Hey, we gotta hide the Kill-Me-Stick.”

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln@r13mar@rootbeerfaygo@iiskittles16ii@fandomrulesall-blog@dark-night-sky-99@railingsofsorrow@apolloroid@thatweirdoleigh@misswe03@eat-cake@felinegrate@trikigirl271@cute-freak27@fayeatheart@archangelslollipop @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @space-princess-charming@heartbreakgrill@whatsupb18 @enchantedlandcoffee @trikigirl271 @kleinegamerin Really sorry if I missed anyone! If you requested to be on the taglist, just DM me and I'll fix it!

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Why henry the bald allows himself to be humiliated. by u/SirSidneyWiffledork

Why henry the bald allows himself to be humiliated. I apologize for the long introduction but I think some background is important to help understand the reasons behind my speculations.I am not a medical professional. I have no academic credentials related to human behavior.I do have 20+ years experience in the world of BDSM as a "Dominant"I am also a curious person who enjoys exploring areas of interest, particularly when they are beyond my experience. Early in my exploration of bdsm I was exposed to individuals who identify as masochists. I have seen dozens of such people subject themselves to extreme pain in scenes that would cause most rational people to call emergency services. For the record I am not a sadist and was a curious observer and not a participant in this type of activity. Not my kink at all.What i observed was that these people seemed to need such extreme pain in order to be able to process pleasure.When I looked into the science of this behavior, and this information is 20 years old, what I discovered was amazing.The research I read showed that an extremely high percentage of masochists had a history of severe trauma which often included long hospital visits and chronic pain at a young age.The authors speculated that over long periods of time in chronic pain the masochists pleasure wires would become so entwined that they had difficulty processing one without the other.This was dealing with physical pain of course, but it is easy to find web sites where individuals seek partners for extreme humiliation.Which brings me to an observation and a question.First, can anyone link to a picture or video which shows meghan markle and henry interacting in what you would describe as a traditional loving scene?The Prince and Princess of Wales are so obviously a loving couple thar I could produce dozens of such examples. It would be hard to find a picture of them together where they are not obviously in love. But the Montecito pair?They always look different. Meghan is always in charge and henry is always diminished.Henry seems to go out of his way to make himself appear less. A legend of aviation? What drugs do you have to take to think that would help your image?The love drug, that is what.I suspect that going through a long period of emotional pain at a young age would mess with your brain's wiring.Anyone dealing with such complex issues might overcompensate by beating ponies to death and abusing professional women.If that does not provide them with the release they will keep searching until....One day a narcissist finds you. They love bomb you until you let your guard down and then treat you like crap. They throw the kitchen sink at you with bizarre behavior and mix lies with reality until you realize....The only thing that really sets you free is being humiliated. The bigger the stage the better the release.Any thoughts? post link: https://ift.tt/04as7O1 author: SirSidneyWiffledork submitted: June 13, 2024 at 05:12AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[lackablazeical]

General Addams! FAQ -

1. Why does Leo hate Big Mama?

He understands how narcissistic and manipulative she is. Everything she does is for her own gain, including the relationships she tries to foster with her family. Leo can see pretty clearly how much sway she holds over his father, Mikey, and Donnie, despite the fact that she does not really love them. He thinks her motives are selfish and all her words and actions are deceitful, and he despises her for it.

2. Why does Big Mama want Leo to like her?

Mama sees Leo as the most talented, deadly, and charismatic of her children. He would be an absolutely perfect champion for her Nexus, and she wants nothing more than to be able to manipulate and control him into being her ideal poster child.

3. Why does Mikey hate Usagi so much?

As crass and abrasive as Mikey is, he loves his brothers. He likes spending time with them, and wants nothing more than to earn their attention and affection. Mikey sees Usagi as an obstacle that has disrupted that ideal dynamic: a trespasser in the family who completely monopolizes Leo’s attention, even though it is absolutely not Usagi’s choice.

Rational thinking is not the strong suit of any Hamato in the Addams universe, and so Mikey fails to acknowledge that the real problem lies with Leo’s behavior. Mikey idolizes Leo too much, and would never want to blame him or imagine that he might choose to spend time with someone else over Mikey. Therefore, Mikey pins all the blame (and all his ire) unfairly on Usagi.

4. Does Usagi ever learn to love Leo?

No.

Usagi is not stupid. He understands how abusive Leo is, and how unhealthy their dynamic is. He also knows what Leo is capable of, and what it could mean for himself and his family if he tries to leave. (Leo would lash out and likely hurt or kill someone.)

Deep down, Usagi also believes that he has earned this punishment for failing his family so spectacularly. He stays, not because there is anything redeeming about Leo or any hope of the relationship developing into anything healthy, but because he has reached a point of hopelessness that he deserves anything better.

5. Does Usagi ever escape his situation?

The Addams Universe is a dark and tragic one. The creators have discussed a few different options for Usagi’s storyline, based on the character’s personalities and motivations. Unfortunately, none of them end well.

The most likely scenario is that Usagi remains in the abusive situation with Leo indefinitely, and that he slowly deteriorates in both body and mind. His honorable, self-sacrificial tendencies means that he sees this as his lot in life, just another manifestation of the Miyamoto curse that he must bear. And Usagi’s choice to remain ensures that Leo will never victimize anyone else.

6. If Leo had to choose between his brothers and Usagi, who would he be most loyal to?

His brothers. As obsessed as he is with Usagi, Leo would still choose his brothers in a heartbeat.

7. How would Leo react if Usagi died?

He would be completely devastated.

Leo is so fully invested in his relationship with Usagi that the loss is something he might never recover from. He would still be constantly thinking about Usagi and talking about him, bouncing between loudly lamenting the loss and denying that Usagi is really gone. His temperament would likely become even more volatile.

He would be incapable of moving on or forming new relationships, because he would forever be comparing anyone else to his perfect view of Usagi.

8. What is the 'Miyamoto Curse'?

The Miyamoto Curse is a legend that many rabbit yokai believe in, one that they think explains the tragedies and misfortunes that constantly befall the Miyamoto clan. It has persisted for generations, to the point where its origin has been either forgotten or fabricated. Within the Addams Universe storyline, here are some examples of how the curse has affected Usagi and his immediate family:

Grand Lady Fuwa Miyamoto (Usagi’s great-grandmother) - almost completely blind, suffers unreliable mystic visions, lost all her children and a grandson

Gennosuke Miyamoto (aka Gen, Usagi’s father) - lost his younger brother, trapped in a loveless marriage

Ishida Miyamoto (Usagi’s older brother) - failed as Chuunin, suffers incurable physical and spiritual ailment

Usagi Miyamoto - failed as Chuunin, suffered permanent injury and scarring, died and resurrected, self-imposed exile

Kenichi Miyamoto (Usagi’s younger brother) - lost a hand

9. Would Donnie/Mikey/Raph be sad if Ishida/Kenichi/Chizu died?

Yes. Each turtle considers their respective bunny a close friend that they would be devastated to lose.

[buttercup-art]

Hiiii its meeee :] Could you tell us a bit about Noa ? How did she meet Hugo ? I've been thinking about her latelyyyy... Also, does she have a reference sheet of some kind ? For no particular reasonnn (<- planning on drawing her)

AAAAHHH HI FRIEND!!!! <3 I’d love to tell you about her!!

Noa Elizabeth Simmons (She/Her) is a powerhouse in Hyperion, having climbed her way to her position as President of Weapons Development through many forms of deception, manipulation, and overall perfectionism. She's an expert when it comes to all things related to weapons, and is one hell of a shot (her job is more managerial, but she enjoys it when she actually gets to shoot stuff lol). Like many in Hyperion, she’s always looking for ways to reach the top, wanting that control and power for herself. She’s known for being confident and narcissistic, believing she’s better than everyone and being critical of others, especially their intelligence and/or fashion choices. Having been born on Eden-5 was a big cause of that, as she was raised in a very wealthy and influential family who constantly worried about their image and pushed her to be the best. Her parents were often emotionally distant and cold, which caused her to have issues with processing emotions and things of that nature (talking about her feelings makes her uncomfortable). She doesn’t trust people easily, and has a very difficult time getting close to people. Being vulnerable around others makes her uncomfortable, because it feels like they have some sort of power over her. She likes being the one in control. She’s also French, and frequently switches between speaking English and French (or the equivalent of those languages in that world lol).

She's also a very logical thinker, often listening to her brain first instead of her heart. Overthinking is a pretty much a normal process for her; it's only natural to extensively work through things in order to reach a rational conclusion. But when things don't have a clear answer (like love), that's when she gets stuck and ties herself in a metaphorical knot. She's in her head most of the time, and that ends up doing her more harm than good.

And despite her cold exterior and bitterness, she's actually a pretty sensitive and compassionate person, secretly needing companionship (although she always tries to convince herself that she doesn't and/or it's not a good idea). When she does take a liking to someone, she gives them special treatment (giving them gifts, bringing them along with her whenever she has to do business/finding reasons to see them, giving them advice about things, protecting them, etc). She is also a good listener, and will happily listen to someone rant or gossip to her about anything they want. Just as long as she likes that person. She might tell them to "casse-toi" (piss off) if she doesn't know them that well lol

Another thing about her is that she's a lover of the arts, often painting in her free time and visiting art galleries/exhibitions every now and then. She always makes an effort to dress stylishly, even when she's alone, and takes a lot of pride in her appearance. Flowers and tea are also something she really likes (and is VERY particular about the quality of tea she drinks and how it's brewed. She wants it to be done right).

As for how Noa met Hugo, I imagine she'd meet him when he accidentally walks in on her having a meeting with Henderson, wanting to talk with his boss about his (not so) upcoming promotion. When they see each other again later on, when Henderson isn't around, he ends up lying to her about how important he is and what position he has to try to give himself a bit of a social advantage (he thought she was also middle management). However, she knew right off the bat that he wasn't telling the truth at all, because it takes a liar to know a liar. She decided to play along anyway, letting him dig himself deeper and deeper so he would have more trouble trying to get out of those lies. For funsies. And also to sort of manipulate him into killing Henderson for her. And it works out for both of them, in a way. Noa has Henderson dead, and Hugo gets to back up his claims of being Senior Vice President while also catching her attention. Seems like a win-win to her.

And she does have a reference sheet!! I initially designed her to be a sort of antagonistic character and for her to look Hyperion (and she works for them and likes what she does, so yeah, she's a bad guy) She's a snake and I love her for it! <3

[astroyongie]

Yongie we need 6URSE red flags please

6URSE Red Flags

Nanami 

He lacks empathy. Nanami is the type of person to be super into the rationalizing part which gives poor space for him to understand his partner’s outbursts of crying for exemple. He will often be cold emotionally 

He is the type to give up so easily in arguments. there’s no space for communication when voice is raised, this man won’t take you seriously. he might also use lies and emotional manipulation to have his way 

He can be very superficial when he is in a relationship. which means that this man would want his partner to always be perfect for all occasions. they need to be able to hold their head high every time and be super social otherwise Nanami might feel embarrassed of them 

But he also acts super noisy. this man might not show it, but he knows all about gossip and his tongue runs high and he can often find himself sharing details that you might want to keep secret 

Toji

He is so PETTY! like doesn't matter the moment or the reason that made him upset. when he is emotionally hit this man will become the pettiest person of them all and make sure to judge everything that you do or say just to get you upset 

This man will speak things that will leave you perplexed. he is so insensitive when he is being an ass, and he would say things that he thinks or believes but without benign careful how he expressed himself

in a relationship this man is irresponsible and thus might have a thing for cheating or to be really distant. he likes his freedom and he doesn't feel like he owns you any explanation 

Yet he is over controlative. he is the type of person that will always try to control everything that you do, from what you eat during the day to who you are with at your work space. he doesn't give much space for one to breathe 

Sukuna

He is extremely stubborn, no matter if you are right or not, this man won't bulge once he makes a decision, especially if he uses his heart to make those decisions. whenever he is hurt he holds grudges like a madman and won’t change those either 

He is very careless and impulsive with his words. He speaks his mind without taking into consideration your feelings which often ends up by him hiring your feelings. sukuna can also be quite aggressive with what he says or on the way of communicating

In a relationship he is exploitive. He is with you for what you are able to bring to the table. if you aren't able to provide the same way he is proving he won’t see you as a partner but as a burden

He acts quite snobby. that because he was always raised this way, but his behaviors will continue even during the relationship. Like he acts as if he is making president money 

Gojo

He is so damn dramatic and everything that happens to him is negative and feels like death to him. like he will literally act as if the world is crumbling under his feet. also he can be quite narcissistic when it comes to his own inner self 

Like Sukuna he is super irresponsible and impulsive with his words which makes him the type to argue for anything and everything. sometimes the matter doesn't even is that important but he makes a huge deal out of it  

In a relationship is careless, forgets about important dates , forgets to bring some comfort and he might have tendencies to look elsewhere when he feels bored of his partner 

He is codependent with people and he always sticks to them like a glue which gives small occasions for the other people to breathe. he can also act super passive aggressive whenever he is angry or upset 

Geto

He is emotionally very selfish. When he has to make choices in his heart he will always prioritize himself and be quite arrogant about it. Other people comes after his own needs no matter the situation 

The way he talks can sometimes feel very snobby, like he takes people as more inferior than him and speaks to them as if they are stupid. so one can feel very insecure when having a conversation with Geto 

In a relationship he is all about exploiting what his partner can bring into the relationship. he is expecting the to be on the same level than he is , or else he won't be very interested in them, or h might feel overloaded with them

He acts like the victim each time someone points out something bad about him. Ghetto gets overly sensitive over the smallest matters 

Choso 

He can be aggressive when he is emotionally overwhelmed with rage and anger. he doesn't deal well with frustration and pressure, making him quite selfish on his actions 

Choso is a world first class emotional manipulator. when he open his mouth he knows what the people wants to hear and how to get them on the good side. he doesn't do this consciously, as he is a people pleaser

In a relationship, Choso’s red flag is the fact that he is very impatient. he would want to wait too long to be with his partners and he moves alway son the fast pace with can be tiring. he is super demanding as well and gets upset when he doesn't have his way 

He is super co-dependent and he always is behind those he cares and loves because he doesn't know how to live by himself. Choso as a lack of personality here where he needs to live through others 

[alexandraisyes]

A List of Common Traits Sociopaths Have

Note: These are a mix of personality traits (cannot be changed) and behavioral traits (can be changed) For the sake of simplicity, personality traits are the things that are considered the defining factor of a sociopath. Don't freak out if you have one or two of these, everyone has at least one symptom of every disorder ever, and that doesn't mean you are a sociopath. Also, please keep in mind this isn't a pretty topic that's sunshine and rainbows. It's a mental disorder and I do not intend on sugarcoating it.

Personality Traits

Lack of Empathy: Empathy is the ability to sense other people's emotions, coupled with the ability to imagine what someone else might be thinking or feeling. We literally cannot do that. We will not understand on an emotional level why you are upset, why you are crying, why you're laughing at something we said. We can understand on a logical level, not an emotional one. Sociopaths have to learn something called cognitive empathy, which is using critical thinking to understand another person's emotions and thoughts. We're logical, we can't understand your emotional issues without using cold logic, this can make people perceive us as cruel and inhumane when we simply aren't capable of empathizing.

Not Giving a Fuckery: Put bluntly, we don't care. You can't make us care. You can't persuade us to care. If we want to care about something, we will, and you will have no influence on whether that happens or not. And generally, we don't want to care either. We are capable of caring, but we are highly selective about what and who we choose to care about, and it tends to be someone we've known for long-term who has managed to wriggle past our walls. Even then we'll have periods where we just cannot give a fuck about them, even if they matter to us. It's a rocky road y'all, and the guilt afterwards is fucking hell (partly because we care about them and feel bad about not caring for a bit, but mostly because we aren't used to guilt and so it makes us feel feelings that we have no idea how to process.)

Lack of Guilt: Don't feel the need to go too deep into this cause I've already covered it. Look at the two above posts. Why would someone who has no emotional empathy and suffers from not giving a fuckery feel guilt about... hardly anything? We can feel guilt, I know this first hand. (That was a rough moment of my life there.) But it's also really easy for us to rationalize our actions and push it under the rug to never look at again. Which means it's really hard for us to find a reason to change our behavior when we hurt others, especially if they aren't people we care about. When it's someone we care about, it tends to go either "I can live without them (fucking lies)" or "I'm gonna lose them if I don't knock it off". I'll go into greater detail about the fucking lies statement there later on in the behavior section.

Guarded Trust: As stated briefly in point two, we have walls. We have a lot of walls. And a firing squad behind those walls if you managed to get past them. We don't want to trust you, and we might never fully trust you (just depends on the sociopath). Generally when people have their walls up that high there's some kind of vulnerability they don't want exploited, not so much the case with sociopaths. Most of us just are jaded and cold and uncaring, and we aren't hiding anything "for our own protection" (unless it's something like a case of consistent abuse to and past full maturation [adulthood] that will obviously have negative effects that make us doubly untrusting of others). So, if you manage to earn our trust, congratulations on sticking around long enough to do that. Now don't fuck it up.

Self Preservation: Some people claim that sociopaths are narcissistic (to be a narcissist is an entirely different personality disorder, but anyone can act narcissistic). I argue that a sociopath has no more inclination to act narcissistic than your average human being. What is actually perceived is our sense of self preservation, which is like yours... on steroids. We will always come first in our minds because why would you put something before you that you don't care about? If there is one oxygen mask, and there are two of us, and we both need oxygen to live, I would not hesitate in letting you die. Harsh, but honest. We tend to be called narcissistic because we share some traits with narcissists, like high charisma, intelligence, and we're highly tuned into other people's reactions and behaviors (a lack of empathy and caring makes it easier to completely dismantle someone in our minds). It's important to note that if we are going out of our way to do something for someone we don't particularly know or care about, it's generally because we want something from them, or we want to be able to get something from them in the future. We tend to play nice with others because they have something we want, whether this is a material thing, or in more self-aware sociopaths like myself, companionship. Also to note, we don't give a shit what you think about us unless it's going to cause us issues with getting what we want from you, our ego isn't at stake like a narcissist's is. We don't brag about ourselves or try to impress you, and we tend to keep the conversation off of ourselves. You can talk with me for hours on end, and walk away knowing nothing about me and I will know everything about you unless you ask the right questions that get me to talk about myself. If I humor you with the all about Alex, it's because I find amusement in your reaction to what is honestly quite a horrifying story. This is pretty common behavior for a sociopath I found out, haha.

Lack of Intrusive Thoughts: Don't ask us what we're thinking and expect an honest answer, you don't want to know what is actually happening in our head. We don't care, remember? We aren't bothered by thoughts that are about immoral topics and actions, and we just brush them off like we do with any other thought. The only times I have ever considered a thought intrusive is when it involved hurting someone I care deeply about (my mom and generally my cats) or involved breaking my personal moral code. Past that, we will literally think about anything and not bat an eye. We also generally aren't going to be affected by viewing traumatic content unless it ties directly into our own traumatic experiences (or, again, involves someone we care about), and this tends to be the case with most sociopaths. A thought about brutally murdering our family has the same tone as needing to make sure we remember to pick up more coffee next time we go to the store, and it won't bug us like it will a normal person.

No Uno Reverse: Sorry, but if you want to pull a fast one on a sociopath, it's not going to work. You can't manipulate us. You can't threaten us. You can't persuade us. You can bribe us, but that's not manipulation at that point, that's you offering up goods to earn our favor. Honestly... if you were to bribe us for our favor, at that point technically the tables just got turned bozo. You also can't offend us easily. You can piss us off, you can get us riled up, but you're not going to be able to easily find something that's going to get us real upsetti spaghetti for longer than that moment. And if we are upsetti spaghetti, it's not really because we're offended, we're just pissed off at your insolence and audacity and generally mocking you in our heads for being a dumbass. Not saying that you can't manage to offend us, just that it's a hard game and are you even sure the outcome is worth it? You can't make us jealous either, we don't give a shit.

Aromantic: If you are a sociopath you are automatically aromantic. The brain? Yeah that's fucking broken when it comes to chemical love. We can't love you the way you want us to, and we will never be able to. We can love but it's not the same as what the normal person thinks of when they think of loving someone. We will never fall in love with you, and it's not fair to us to expect us to. The best you'll get from us is the effort we will put into the relationship, not because there's some deep emotional connection, but because we care and that's the most you're going to get. If we stick around, put in effort, are willing to compromise and go out of our way to make you happy, that's how we show we "love" you. A relationship with a sociopath will never be romantic on their part, and it will feel a lot like having a best friend instead of a romantic partner. We give out limited affection on a good day, so it's wise to know what you're getting into. (Note: We can learn to be more affectionate if it ends up benefiting us by doing so, but we won't actively seek out things like touch, and you need to both ask if you want it from us, as well as ask before touching us as a general rule of thumb because we aren't touchy people to start with. If we dole out touch like it's candy, it's generally for your benefit and not because we crave it. Always get an okay just in general really before you touch someone else unless they have specified you don't need to ask.)

Blunt: Almost painfully so. We aren't going to beat around the bush unless we are trying to manipulate a situation (this isn't always malicious by the way, a good chunk of the manipulation we do isn't because we're trying to be bad, it's either self-preservation or trying to navigate a situation. It's just that it's also really easy for us to be manipulative for other reasons since we won't feel bad about it that makes this an issue). We don't see a reason to run circles around things, and we are very straight forward, even if we may not act like it at times. We really don't care if you don't like what we have to say.

Bored: We are so so sooooo bored all the damn time. We like interacting with people because it's exciting. We like shiny buttons that give us reactions, and we really really like to press them for better and for worse because it's amusing. It's something to do. A lot of us don't have a healthy way to deal with boredom, which leads to drug and alcohol abuse, petty crimes, sex addiction, etc. Stuff that makes us feel something other than just... empty. The lucky ones (like me) figure out how to manage ourselves, impulses, and the way we interact with others. I fight off my boredom by drawing. For an idea of how bored I fucking am, I draw every day, up to twelve hours a day.

Pride: I'm not going to sugar coat it, we're very very prideful. You want to hurt a sociopath? Attack their pride. That's the only way you're going to do it.

Not Evil: No one is born inherently evil, and neither are sociopaths. A sociopath is formed, not born. Most of us are non-violent, and do the majority of our 'acting out' in highschool and young adulthood. A lot of us end up in juvenile detention at least once because of our ingrained lack of impulse control (I went to juvie three times and committed a handful of misdemeanors). We can be horrible people, but so can someone who is "normal", and considering the population of people who are criminals (5% estimate) compared to people who are sociopaths (less than one, and most of us are again, nonviolent)... yeah that says more about humanity than it does sociopathy. We may, however, appear heartless due to the lack of an instinctual moral compass.

Constant: Let's face the facts, a sociopath isn't going to change. Your personality is constant. Being a sociopath is a huge part of our personality. Your personality doesn't change, and neither will ours. However, we can change and improve by working on our behaviors and going through intensive cognitive behavioral therapy, as well as similar types of intensive therapies that appeal to logic rather than emotion.

Behavioral Traits

The Mask: This is huge, so it's the first. A sociopath's mask is an intricate and meticulously crafted façade designed to camouflage their true thoughts, emotions, and intentions. This carefully constructed persona serves as a social shield, concealing the underlying aspects of our personality that deviate from societal norms. This mask is characterized by a calculated presentation of charm, affability, and a keen ability to adapt to various social scenarios. It reflects a superficial normalcy that enables us to seamlessly integrate into social circles, concealing our inherent lack of empathy and emotional depth. It is not merely a tool for social interaction; it is a strategic move employed to help manipulate and navigate the complexities of human relationships that we literally don't understand. It allows us to mimic conventional emotional responses and create an illusion of connection, while beneath the surface... to put it poetically, an emotional void persists. This deceptive exterior often includes a convincing display of sincerity, engaging conversational skills, and an ability to mirror the emotions of others. The mask is not a fixed entity; rather, it is adaptive, evolving to suit the specific context and individuals involved. It is a versatile tool, enabling them to exploit social dynamics for personal gain without raising suspicion. Behind this facade, however, lies a stark contrast to conventional emotional experiences. The mask is a calculated projection, lacking the genuine emotional depth and connection that characterize authentic human interactions. It serves as a mechanism for self-preservation, allowing us to navigate social landscapes without revealing the true nature of our emotional deficit.

Trust Via The Mask: There are three reasons we'll take off our mask.

We're fucking tired. It's so exhausting pretending to understand shit, and pretending to care, so if our mask slips, don't hate on us for it, we're just exhausted. It takes a lot of mental and emotional energy to keep it up all the time, and the more physically worn out we are, the less energy we have to mask in social settings. It's important to remember that we are humans too, and our mask slipping and revealing glimpses of who we actually are underneath the layers we put on for those around us is okay. No one can be perfect all the time, and if we're so tired we can't keep up the act that says a lot about our mental state (that we aren't going to inform you of).

We trust you. In the context of sociopathic behavior, we may, under certain circumstances, allow our carefully maintained mask to momentarily slip, particularly when a sense of trust has been established in a relationship. This occurrence can indicate a level of confidence in the associated individual, granting them insight into the less guarded aspects of our personality. The decision to reveal our nature in the presence of trust is not a small thing, it reflects a deliberate choice to expose an unfiltered version of us to the individual. During these instances, there may be a temporary departure from the usual emotional detachment characteristic of sociopathy, offering a brief and somewhat paradoxical glimpse into more authentic expressions of thoughts and emotions. For those privy to such moments, a measured approach is advisable, recognizing the significance of the trust extended while maintaining awareness of the inherent boundaries in understanding our emotional terrain.

We want to fuck with you. The deliberate decision to drop the mask, not out of a necessity driven by trust or fatigue but rather as a calculated maneuver for personal amusement or manipulation isn't uncommon (I admitted earlier I too am guilty of this behavior). This can serve us as a tool for gauging and influencing the reactions of others, showing an inclination to navigate social dynamics for our own amusement or gain. In instances where we intentionally discard our mask, the primary motivation lies in observing the impact on those around us. The reactions of others tend to be a source of entertainment or a means of manipulation, providing a sense of control and satisfaction for us in the moment. This calculated move allows us to assess the vulnerabilities and responses of those in our social sphere, offering valuable insights that can be harnessed for future interactions. It is crucial to acknowledge that this intentional unmasking is not a manifestation of genuine emotion or a display of trust but rather a strategic decision grounded in our inherent ability to read and exploit social dynamics. For those on the receiving end of this intentional unmasking, good luck. If you aren't aware of what's going on, you're kind of doomed to get back on even ground with them. It's a bit of a power high to catch somebody so off guard, and then go back to normal, and it's a bad habit I'm personally trying to break. But a lot of us... don't really care about improving so most of us aren't trying to not do that.

Cruelty: Woah, this is a negative trait guys, just an FYI. So keep in mind that while this is a common behavior in sociopathy, not every sociopath is an asshole on purpose, and others can be working to improve. Anyone can be cruel. Cruelty, in this context, is not an incidental byproduct of emotional distress but rather a calculated choice driven by a lack of empathy and a heightened focus on personal objectives. We may engage in deliberate acts of cruelty, exploiting the vulnerabilities and emotions of others without experiencing the moral or emotional constraints that typically deter such behavior. This intentional cruelty can manifest in various forms, including verbal aggression, manipulation, or actions designed to inflict emotional or psychological harm (again, we don't tend to be violent). The absence of empathetic responses allows us to navigate social interactions without the emotional burdens that typically accompany acts of cruelty (like guilt). It is essential to understand that this deliberate cruelty is not generally driven by malice but rather by a self-serving motivation. We tend to view others primarily in terms of utility, with acts of cruelty serving as means to achieve personal goals, assert dominance, or maintain control within relationships. Recognizing the potential for cruelty in individuals with sociopathic traits is crucial for those interacting with them. Establishing healthy boundaries and maintaining a level of emotional detachment can help mitigate the impact of such behavior. Additionally, fostering an understanding of the distinct emotional landscape of sociopaths allows for a more informed approach to navigating relationships with these individuals. It's equally important to recognize when there is the potential for improvement, while also knowing your own limits. The average human being cannot help a sociopath, we need a trained professional’s assistance.

Quiet: The tendency for us to maintain a quiet demeanor is often rooted in a strategic awareness of societal norms and a recognition that openly expressing our thoughts can evoke fear or discomfort in others. This silence, or even distracting ourselves with meaningless chatter, serves as a self-protective measure, allowing us to navigate social interactions without triggering negative reactions based on the unconventional nature of our thoughts and perspectives. The fact that we don't often talk about ourselves does not necessarily translate to being a good listener. We don't tend to actively engage in empathetic listening or exhibit genuine interest in the concerns of others. In social scenarios, we may carefully observe and selectively respond to maintain a calculated distance from emotional entanglements. Understanding this dynamic is essential for managing expectations and fostering realistic communication in relationships with sociopaths. We don't care about your issues, and if we ask about them we're doing so out of morbid curiosity more often than not.

Threatening to Leave: Sociopaths approach relationships with a pragmatic and calculated mindset, often weighing the perceived benefits and losses associated with their connections. Threatening to end a relationship may not elicit the anticipated emotional response unless the sociopath perceives it as a significant loss or a threat to our personal interests. We tend to view relationships through the lens of utility, assessing the value and advantages they derive from the connection. If they perceive that ending the relationship would result in a notable loss or detriment to their goals, we might respond with a level of concern. In such cases, the threat of relationship termination becomes a strategic consideration rather than an emotional trigger. It is important to recognize that the sociopathic response to relationship threats is grounded in a rational evaluation of self-interest rather than emotional attachment. Understanding this dynamic is crucial for those navigating relationships with sociopaths. Effectively communicating concerns or influencing behavior may require appealing to our perceived self-interest rather than relying on emotional appeals.

Walking Away: For a sociopath, the prospect of someone we care about choosing to leave may not lead to the typical emotional experience of heartbreak, as we don't engage in the conventional experience of love. However the emotional impact of such an event, while not precisely analogous to heartbreak, can be remarkably close and centers around our sense of pride and ego. This is not just romantic relationships, but also platonic ones. We often derive a sense of identity and self-worth from our ability to navigate relationships with a certain level of control and influence. The act of someone choosing to leave, particularly if it is unexpected or challenges our sense of self and can result in a significant blow to our pride. The feelings of rejection or failure may prompt a strong emotional response, even if it doesn't align with the traditional concept of heartbreak. While we may not experience heartbreak in the conventional sense, the impact on our pride and ego can be a powerful and challenging emotional experience for them, and can leave us with feelings of helplessness (which makes us resentful) and self hatred if our disorder is blamed as the causation of the relationship failing.

Funny man: We do have a sense of humor, albeit it's one that often leans toward the darker and more unconventional side. This distinctive humor arises from our unfiltered thoughts and the keen ability to perceive and appreciate the absurdities or ironies of life that tend to elude others. We often find amusement in topics that others might perceive as morbid or taboo. Our unfiltered thoughts let us see the humor in situations that might be uncomfortable or unsettling for many. The unbridled nature of our thoughts allows us to view the world through a lens unencumbered by societal norms or emotional sensitivities. We lack the typical social filters that might restrain others from finding humor in certain topics. However, while we may appreciate dark humor, we do tend to recognize the need to share it selectively, and we're capable of shifting what we put out there enough to be acceptable and humorous to different groups of people.

Friendship Potential: While we are often characterized by a lack of emotional empathy and a pragmatic approach to relationships, it's good to recognize that our honestly unique qualities can contribute to the potential for us to be great friends in certain contexts.

Logical Perspectives: Sociopaths, with our cold, logical perspectives, can offer insights and advice that are unclouded by emotional biases. This rational approach can be valuable, especially in situations where objective analysis is required.

Reliability and Consistency: Sociopaths may exhibit a high level of consistency and reliability in our friendships. Our pragmatic nature often translates into clear communication and straightforward expectations, reducing the likelihood of unpredictable behaviors.

Solution-Oriented Approach: The problem-solving skills we hold can be an asset in a friendship. Our focus on achieving goals and navigating challenges efficiently can contribute to finding effective solutions in various situations.

Honesty as a Form of Care: Sociopaths, in our own way, may express care through brutal honesty. While this honesty may be unsettling, it can be interpreted as a sincere effort to provide transparent insights, devoid of the social niceties that often accompany communication.

Loyalty to a Select Few: Though generally characterized by a lack of empathy, we may form genuine bonds with a small circle of individuals. This selective loyalty can result in deep and lasting friendships, where we are able to demonstrate commitment and support.

[persephoneflouwers]

Hey Angie, It’s Kimberly. I have appreciated your rational thoughts, and have enjoyed chatting with you in the past so I thought I might share my own. Forgive the “anonymous” ask, please. I love very quietly on Tumblr, and don’t want to be crucified over it.

My perspective:

I had an abusive, bipolar, narcissistic ex. Diagnosed, not me projecting. Apparently on meds, 25 years later, he is a great guy. I won’t ever get close enough to know.

When he left me, for one of the mistresses I had no clue about at the time, he went on the offensive and the things he said about me were mind blowing and painted me to be an awful human. I think to save his job in a very conservative family first work place, justify his actions, and not lose his friends, the support of his extended family and because he has no soul.

He was (is?) charming and believable - no lie- he sold heaters in Arizona for a living for a while -a lot of folks bought it all. I was in a place of devastating hurt and just surviving with three toddlers and payments due and bank accounts he emptied before he told me he was out. That he would dare say these things made me so mad, so the anger is what people picked up on, and they bought in to his narrative more. I had no way of fighting back, he was so much better at it than I was! He would crop emails and messages and then print them out to show folks ( we are that old).

All that to say, we can’t ever really know. Unless it is our life, lived first hand, all we know is what people say.

Odds are good he did things that were wrong. I think most everyone has. I don’t believe in perfect humans. And anyone thinking their pet celebrity is the rare perfect one will likely have a hard day coming sooner or later.

When I hear these kinds things, my knee jerk is to believe the person saying they were abused, because that pings me back to my own loved experience. But then I have to remember there was a time someone I married and loved and had kids with set out to destroy me. First with the abuse in our marriage and then after with the lies and accusations and harassment. And he mostly did.

Only he and I know the truth of that situation versus what he told folks.

So in this situation, it is tough to hear people jumping all in, in any direction, assuming they know all the facts because of what they hear on social media??! It could all very well be true. It could all very well be false. Odds are good, the reality lies somewhere in the middle.

What we know for sure is that a mama is has lost her son. A dad had to go retrieve his body. Friends and family are grieving, and will never get to say all the things they meant to the next chat, or someday. A very young child will never get to hug his dad again. AND WILL BE ABLE TO SEE THE NASTINESS ONLINE SOMEDAY. About their DAD. people who are also in despair, or hurting might resonate with this and push them one step closer to doing the same.

At the end of the day, a life was lost. That is always a tragedy.

Anyhow. Hugs and peace to you.

Oh this is a lot.

I hope you’re taking care and are safe now, Kim 🌷

[rametarin]

The major mistake critics of Russia are making, I think.

There is a mistake in assuming an animal is dim or unintelligent because its organizational structure is abhorrent.

The Russians have never been poor engineers. That requires knowledge of science and cause and effect and order of operations. That requires foreknowledge of what's coming and an ability to predict and react to it with contingency.

But it doesn't matter how smart or wise you are, if the person with authority over you is a god damned trogglodyte brute moron that prefers to do things more like an orc than a god damned rational human being. And therein lies the problem.

Russia has never been free, because these hair brained assholes have always been the ones dominating over the more rational and logical ones. So you get captured engineers subserviant to the bombastic mentally sick narcissistic pieces of shit, and otherwise good tactics and munitions being used in the most spectacularly wasteful and pathetic fashion. Potential spoiled because god damned morons are in charge.

When you're beaten and pounded into structure and order, NO MATTER HOW STUPID OR ANTITHETICAL TO SURVIVAL OR SUCCESS IT IS, you have no choice but to either function or die. It's damned if you do, damned if you don't. Even something as sensible as telling the commander he has a bomb under his ass and the cartoonish fuse is hissing towards the explosive is talking out of turn, because YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SPEAK OUT OF TURN. Thus, damning the operation as the big shiny medal chested idiot gets blown to Kingdom Come.

You can have all the scientists and engineers and statesticians you want, but they don't amount for shit if the guys in charge have their own shitty erroneous ideas and ego dominating the decision making process. And that, I would say, is one of the reasons Russia never had a chance in this war. Foundationally, it's structurally inept. If Putin were some sort of God Emperor master tactician/strategist/logician, with essence of Bonaparte, then maybe this million spinning dinner plate operation may work. But Bonaparte, Putin is not.

It isn't a lack of intelligence that is causing this stupidity. It's an abundance of ego silencing sense and reason. It's emotion and romantic ambition muting reality. It's delusion and psychosis and denial of objective fact in the face of what is true.

It's dementia being projected across an entire nation state and people, brought to you by autocratic authoritarian brutalism.

Doing regime change and a massive sunshine anti-corruption campaign would allow the better parts of Russian culture to flourish and trim out the shit. One way or another, the west fostering these changes and sunshine initiatives and combatting the Russian mob would radically improve the Russian situation.

The place just needs management that isn't mafioso in charge and a culture of law enforcement integrity. It'll get better. But it's going to take effort to burn away those bad parts.

[king-nyx]

Toxic cycles of abuse in the Rising Son/the Season

Disclaimer: This is mainly for fun and because I like delving deeper into this stuff. Based on my recent rewatch of the Rising Son, the Christmas special and the short form content.

The main (or really only one) cycle of abuse and manipulation we see in the Rising Son is the one in Zues' main family, but especially with Apollo. Now, it's very obvious that both Zues and Hera are both toxic, manipulative and narcissistic. While, I do believe that Zues had an effect on all six (6) of his children; Hera, most likely, on only her own children (Athena, Ares and Heaphustus). Hera most definitely had a controlling side for the younger three, but other than being a controlling and most definitely abusive step-mother, she didn't have any other effect. While being raised by an abusive step-mother has its effects, it's probably nothing on how Zues controls them.

Now, based on the myths as they are canon, Athena and Apollo were probably the golden children who were doing everything in their power to stay on Zues' good side. Heaphustus probably stayed on the side lines. He behaved well enough, but tried to stay away from everything. Artemis did the same, but in a different way. Artemis used her Hunters and her freedom to escape her abusive family. Hermes is the clown of the family. Hermes is well behaved, does what he's asked, but other than that, he's really just a jokester trying to hide from the reality of his situation. Ares...is well Ares. He's the least "well-behaved", he does everything to oppose Zues and when he feels like Zues is doing something wrong (marrying Aphrodite off) he stands against that. He's the one his family can easily blame and he probably takes it really hard but plays it off like it's nothing. Ares most likely got very used to this treatment.

So, now, that brings us to the big questions.

Does Hades contribute to the toxic cycle of abuse? Did Athena run away from the toxic cycle of abuse or was she deliberately kicked out as another form of control? Did Heaphustus go no-contact? Artemis, who had originally hid away from the toxic cycle of abuse in the woods with her found-family, is now directly under the control of the main preparator of this cycle (Zues), so how would that affect her relationship with her family specifically Apollo? Did Hermes tell Apollo to ask Zues for help as a desperate attempt to have his siblings with him in the toxic environment, or was it an entirely self-less act to help Apollo and Dionysus, or was a mixture of both? How does Ares being disowned now affect his relationship with his parents? How does he feel now that he's directly under their control and can't stand against them without harming his loved ones?

Now, the Season, as a show, is there to make the mortals worship the gods. That's a simple tool to get power. However, while discussing abuse and manipulation, we can easily see that when it comes to Apollo how the Season is used as a tool of control and manipulation. Apollo is there in the Season because of the lies and manipulation from Zues and his own desperation because he feels useless and unable to help Dionysus on his own. Now, Apollo is shown to be someone who ignores most problems (i.e. not taking Dionysus seriously when he's first told about his mental issues. Trying to talk things out with Dionysus while Dionysus is still recovering from his attack). Apollo doesn't have the best judgement at all times (who does?), but he prides himself in being right, being the rational one and being the problem-solver. The last one is evident when he immediately tries to find solutions for Dionysus problems instead of just listening and being there. And, while, his actions come from a good place his approach isn't always the best. Knowing all this, it's easy to see how Apollo would fall victim to Zues manipulation. Zues plays into what Apollo wants to hear and who he was before the fall of Olympus. Zues tells Apollo that he's powerful (or atleast was) and that Zues can give Apollo all that. Apollo states later that the reason he agreed to the deal was to both help Dionysus and for his own selfish reasons. Though, I personally think that Apollo is more used to the way Zues treats him than an actual desire for power. I could be wrong. Anyway.

Artemis joins Apollo because she doesn't want her twin to suffer alone. This is an entirely selfless act on Artemis part. Artemis most likely feels like she abandoned Apollo on Olympus with Zues and that is why she chose to do this selfless thing. Leaving a sibling behind is a guilt that never wavers. Now, Artemis orginally, as discussed, had isolated herself by hunting to the woods with her Hunters. This isolation effectively put a barrier between her and Olympus (Zues). So, this single selfless act (joining her brother) puts Artemis in an entirely new situation and one in which she's under the direct control of her manipulative father. Now, someone going from being isolated to under the direct control of their abuser is a risky move. She's also tied down which for the goddess of wilderness is definitely a strange thing. Zues will definitely utilise her in some day, perhaps by making her Apollo's manager or more blatantly Artemis keeping an eye on Apollo so Apollo doesn’t screw up. While Artemis won't knowingly nor willingly help Zues control her siblings. However, in this series Zues is shown to be insanely intelligent and he would definitely find a way to utilise, use and exploit Artemis as much as her siblings.

Hermes is the least known about. However, it's safe to assume that he was around when Athena was around. Now, weather Athena left on her own accord or because she was kicked out is still a mystery, however in both cases one truth remains: Athena left Hermes in the house with Zues and Hera. Now, if Athena escaped the abusive house, then good for her I do not want to imply or say that she did something bad by escaping her house. However that does not change the fact that Athena left Hermes behind. Leaving your sibling behind in a toxic house is a guilt that can never wavers even when you know you did the right thing for you. This is probably going to be a big reason on why Athena comes back. Hermes' own truama is hidden behind laughter and jokes. The myths always note Hermes good humour and easy going nature, something he shares within the Rising Son. Hermes, no matter how hurt, would hide that hurt behind his easy going persona. A persona that is easier to maintain after the twins move into the house. Because, at the very least, Hermes isn't completely alone. However, it is very probable that this facade will break when Athena comes back. That is when his hurt and his annoyance at being left behind will show. Even if he knows what Athena did was right for herself.

Ares is mostly far away and in a safe-space. He's obviously working for Zues (all of Cheaper than Therapy is working for Zues) and he joins the Season and plays his role, but he is mostly in a safe-space. Ares has friends, his uncle and aunt, he has community and a place to safely deal with his issues. Out of the five (5) involved siblings he's definitely the most well-adjusted (however liberal that term might be applied).

Heaphustus is obviously the safest. Considering that he's not ij the Season, it's most likely that he cut contact with his family after Olympus fell and simply refuses to be seen or hear anything from them. Heaphustus went from someone who did as he was told and behaved as he was expected and in the end he managed he escape his toxic family and cut contact. If we follow the myths again, he most likely married Algaia. One of the graces.

So, how does Hades prepetuate this cycle? Simply really, he funds the Season. The Season is the tool that Zues uses to control Artemis, Apollo and Hermes. And, to some extent, Ares. Sure, the Season benefits them all by providing them the worshipped they need, but it is also a tool of control. It can be argued that Hades helps Apollo hid from Zues later on (according to one short), but it doesn't change the fact that Hades, weather through manipulation by Zues or not, funded the Season.

Hermes telling Apollo to ask Zues for help is either a selfless act coming from a good place or a desperate act hoping that he wouldn't end up alone again after Athena abandoned him. This is really a fine line and depends on weather or not Hermes anticipated that Apollo would fall for Zues' tricks. Which, I think he did. Hermes and Apollo are really close even during Olympus. There was no way that Hermes did not anticipate that Apollo would fall for Zues' tricks. While this is a selfish act, it's good to point the desperation Hermes felt from that and the possible guilt he feels after the fact. Hermes was left behind in a toxic household and did what je believed he had to do in order to survive that house. Even if it meant dragging his siblings down with him. Dionysus can also be described as a tool of control when it comes to Apollo.

Speaking of Apollo, let's go back to the twins for a second and answer the question of how does all of this affect the twins' relationship? Hardly. This al hardly changes the relationship between the twins. The twins have each other's back and are there for one and another. However, considering that Artemis was previously distant from all of this, it can be easy to assume that her relationship with Apollo might be a bit strained. Not all the time. Not always. But, sometimes, in her worst moments she will blame Apollo for his rash decisions. However, I doubt their relationship would change much.

Ares is effectively disowned in the Season. He's the blacksheep. He's the one who's blamed for everything. Some of it is founded and others not as much. Ares is under the control of his father yet in a safe space. Ares is floating in the in-between. He's in a position to protect those he cares about from his parents (i.e . the Underworld gang, CTT and Dite). Yet, he can't exactly take all the pressure off of them. For someone who's always fought against his parents he's most likely finding all this strange and very anxiety-inducing. The thought of his parents hurting his loved ones and his inability to help them are the thoughts that plague his nightmares. Yet, he knows he's far enough away. He only sees his parents once a week every year. For the Season.

In conclusion, the sibling dynamics in this series however briefly explored are some of the most complex and nuanced relationships. Their dynamics are not only your average sibling dynamic, but it's also plagued with doubt, anxiety and a feeling of abandonment. It's plagued by their dysfunctional homes, their own individual personalities and doubts and the manipulation of their father.

(I really love those siblings.)

[r1yxhh444]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔 02:𝑯𝒊𝒎

"I am I. You? You were home."

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕/𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅) 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒐:

Film:  mother!

played by: Javier Bardem

Alias':  Him/father/God/creator

Type of Villain: Egotistical supreme being

Occupation: God/author

 Skills:

writing

life creating

Chronokinesis

Immortality

Omnipotence

Omniscience

Temporal looping

Cycle manipulation

Hobbies:

writing

admiring worship

Goals: 

Be praised even if it means harming Mother (failed).

Start his life over again (succeeded).

Crimes:

mass murder

infanticide

Filicide

Uxoricide

Cannibalism by proxy

Rape (implied)

Domestic abuse

Psychological abuse

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚:

The central character, "Him," is portrayed as a self-absorbed individual who invites people into his home solely to boost his ego. His actions disregard the feelings and opinions of the Mother, who expresses approval towards him but is often ignored. Despite initially resisting sexual intimacy with her, He eventually gives in, leading to her pregnancy. This event triggers an idea in Him's mind. Driven by his desire for fame and adulation, He allows a chaotic crowd to handle their child, resulting in the child's death and subsequent cannibalism. Surprisingly, rather than seeking retribution, He suggests forgiveness for the perpetrators. Mother, however, responds by burning down the house, sparing only Him. In the aftermath, despite Him's narcissistic tendencies, he asks Mother for any remaining love within her. He then removes her heart, placing it on the mantle, which magically reconstructs the house. This ambiguous gesture could be interpreted as genuine remorse on His part, or it may signify an attempt to start anew, leaving room for the cycle to continue.

He is intricately linked to the portrayal of God, perpetually seeking the inherent goodness within individuals, juxtaposed against the backdrop of the earth and nature—symbolized by Mother. His affiliation with the divine extends to the power of creation and destruction, akin to the omnipotence attributed to God, wherein he can shape and reshape life, perpetuating a continuous cycle of renewal for Mother to align with his enduring immortality.

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔/𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔:

The character's complexity unfolds intriguingly throughout the movie, with Him as a fascinating embodiment of God. However, this representation is paradoxical; while God is traditionally associated with boundless compassion and universal love, Him's demeanour is marked by selfishness and destruction, reflecting the harsh realities of human society. His actions mirror a societal indifference to the world, wherein acts of kindness often stem from vanity and ignorance, serving as mere ego-boosting gestures.

One of the most disturbing aspects of Him lies in the apparent absence of a clear motive guiding his behaviours throughout the narrative. Despite his goal of seeking praise and initiating the cycle of life anew, the rationale behind these objectives remains elusive. This lack of clarity intensifies the unsettling nature of his actions, contributing to a palpable sense of unease and confusion for the audience. Instances such as the murder of his child and the torture inflicted upon Mother appear devoid of rational motivation, seemingly designed only to inflict pain on Mother. This act starkly contradicts the conventional notions of a benevolent God.

𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓:

"Him" in the film "Mother!" stands as a compelling and enigmatic character, skillfully portrayed by Javier Bardem. His multifaceted nature adds depth to the narrative, weaving an intricate tapestry of symbolism and allegory. As the embodiment of God, Him is a paradoxical figure, oscillating between divine attributes and unsettling selfishness. Bardem's nuanced performance captures the character's complexity, emphasizing the tension between the traditional expectations associated with a benevolent deity and the harsh realities reflected in Him's actions. The character's lack of a clear motive adds an extra layer of intrigue, leaving the audience grappling with a sense of unease and prompting contemplation on the broader themes of human nature and societal indifference. Overall, "Him" serves as a captivating and thought-provoking element in the film, contributing significantly to its thematic richness, tp which i rate a 9 out of 10.

[findinginga]

New Revelations Resulting in More Deflection

Was it Really Jealousy?

It was a Sunday afternoon and as it was typical of my weekend discussions with Inga, she was distracted.  This was just something about weekends that I began to notice in my interactions with her.  Inga was less engaged and her replies to my messages were often delayed.  Perhaps because I was armed with this new information about her trip to Yaroslavl, I was more irritable and was looking for a confrontation.  I was greatly annoyed (okay, incensed) that she lied to me about most elements of the trip.  

She concocted an elaborate story about traveling with Eva and her friend.  She lied about how she traveled and where she resided while in Yaroslavl.  Her original story was that the three of them were to stay at a hotel in town and she would travel daily to attend the classes in which she was enrolled.  But that story did not survive long before it morphed into her staying at the school.  She lied about the return trip to the point where she created a fiction with Eva causing difficulties.  The fact was that Inga travelled to and from Yaroslavl alone.  There was no drama of the sort Ingeborga spun from her imagination.

I suppose one could arrive at the conclusion that I was reacting as a jealous lover might under the circumstances.  Of course, we had never been lovers in the physical sense.  Perhaps that statement should be modified to read that we had not been lovers in any sense.  Inga only declared love for me on one occasion and that, I regret to write, actually took a little guilt-tripping to exact.  Hardly a satisfying moment to be sure.

Somewhere I read a description of unrequited love as "blissful torture".  However, the one-sided nature of a relationship that never evolves can be supremely frustrating.  One cannot help but feel the fool and that Sunday afternoon, with the knowledge that Inga had been grossly dishonest, it was time to confront her with hard evidence.

She Finally Caved...

Ingeborga, when confronted, is capable of unleashing an arsenal of coping strategies that she apparently acquired over the years.  Basically, she maintains the toolbox of a narcissist using denial, deflection, rationalization and gaslighting to shift the focus from the issue at hand.  In my opinion, she is quite skilled and frequently had me questioning my own memory and even questioning the integrity if the investigators I hired.  It is amazing how easy it is to fall into this trap and the more you want to believe someone, the more you care or the more they are meeting your needs, the easier it is question even hard evidence.

Despite me deviating from the topic a few times because of her counter arguments and gaslighting, I finally extracted an admission from Inga that she was married and living with Denis.  However, even this came with a quick declaration, "...but I do not sleep with him...".  I suppose that this was intended to put a more positive spin on her repeated lies regarding her marital status.  Her declaration, unfortunately, resulted in me pondering even more questions and the first that popped into my mind was to ask her with who she does sleep because there was no way I was believing that this woman was practicing celibacy.  Anyone as manipulative as she was using someone and because she had used me, it was reasonable to conclude there were multiple people being used.

What Next?

After a heated exchange with Ingeborga, I made the decision that it would be better for me to withdraw.  I had no expectations that she would ever be honest with me.  I had no expectations that I would ever be more than an Internet acquaintance for her and likely one of many, at that.

After a couple of days to cool off, I decided that my need to know the whole story would consume me.  Was she a sociopath?  Certainly she displayed the requisite elements that the DSM V (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual Version 5) would indicate of Narcissistic Personality Disorder.  The question in my mind was whether this was exclusively NPD.  To answer that question it would be necessary to continue to engage with her.

Okay, I need a plan.

[stephaniefchase]

This is what happens when you are surrounded by ignorant, semi-illiterate people. They create controversy where there was none. Now the skeletons that you wanted to remain hidden have to come out. I will speak my truth because no mother or father at whose hands I suffered abuse at as a child will be allowed to villainize me as an adult. My parents owe me nothing. As an adult I owe them nothing. I will not be rude or disrespectful but I will not be silenced. Nothing that I have accomplished came from help from parents or family. It was always strangers who saw my potential and who inspired me to know my worth. I was quietly mourning when my mother sent me a disturbing message because of her inability to rationalize and think critically. She thought my tribute to someone who holds a special place in my heart was an insult to her and an attempt to make her look bad. If you never saw me sing in the competition. You never saw me sing in it. Period!! What was wrong with me saying that? I never said you did not support me in pageants. Yes you went to two of them. So what? I graduated from BCC & UWI and you never came! Told me you were coming with your best friend whose daughter was graduating also. When I asked her where you were she said you said ��you were not coming” that broke my heart. If not for two friends I invited being there to support me at UWI graduation I would have crumbled!! Eveybody mother and father was there but such is life. Yet I didn't hold it against you. Invited you to my post grad dip Education graduation and you attended that so at least I have that one memory. However, our relationship has always been strained. That is the truth. Then this morning my biological father who was abusive and remains narcissistic to this day recorded a voice note and sent it to social media blogs in attempt to discredit me. Pretending not to know what he ever did to me but for whatever reason I disowned him. Claiming he has always been there for his children. LIES. LIES and more LIES. He may be there for his step-son and his son from his current wife but NOT his previous children. It is because of this man and how he treated my mother that I learnt from early I must not allow myself to be at the mercy of anyone. He beat my mother and I unmercifully. Put us out countless times. What I mentioned in this video is not even 1/10 of what I remember and I remember everything that happened to me. I have an older brother who suffers from chronic depression. My father does not even know how to communicate with my younger sister who has given him two grand-children. He told her never to contact him because he does not want anyone messing with his family. So I guess neither she nor her children are family. This is the type of man who is so evil that he thinks she wants something from him when all she wanted was for him to meet his grand-children. Better her than me cause I have not spoken to that man in over 20 years and have no desire to. These are the type of parents who want you to forget your childhood especially when you worked hard to make something of yourself. They want you to pretend that they were perfect when they were not. They would like to silence you because they do not want the world to know the abuse that you suffered at their hands. I will not be silenced. I have always been a loner so I will continue speak my truth because it is my right to do so. The path I have trod is not for the weak!!!!