#self deprecation

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.

[aamerchive]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s my body is a slaughterhouse.

[image credit: pinterest]

[defire]

Defiant whumpees joking around with whumper

Content: degradation, beating, whipping

Whumper doesn't slap them for their sarcastic comments, instead they laugh

Randomly punishes defiant whumpee for their sass, but not consistently enough to make it stick. They don't actually want whumpee to stop, it's entertaining.

"I think you're enjoying torturing me too much." "No such thing as too much fun."

Whumper coming back down to the basement where whumpee is tied up. "What's it gonna be this time, whumper?" "Oh, maybe the brass knuckles today." *Whumpee goes silent.*

Whumpee trying even harder to push whumper's buttons and getting a laugh and ten lashes for it.

Over time whumpee stops joking. They get that dead, glassy-eyed look as the last piece of their personality is erased.

Whumper ordering them to sass them so they can punish them for it. But also punishing them for not speaking.

"it's alright." Whumpee mutters. "I know I'm just a piece of shit. you don't have to keep trying to prove it."

[whumpster-dumpster]

"Honestly, you couldn't have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everybody knows I'm the throwaway. Expendable."

[mouthfxllofwhiteliess]

Tell me I’m pretty so the depression goes away 😇🎀✨

[jiangshinigami]

I'm a terrible person

thought of "femboy milking idle game" and I had to make my brain to shut up

[niabridges]

Lowkey cringing. Brainrot.

[ineffectualdemon]

Hey if you can't stop being self deprecating because it hurts yourself do it because it hurts others

When you post a fic and leave a note saying "sorry it's so bad!" You have just insulted every reader who enjoyed it

When you say "god I'm so ugly" you just insulted the people who think you're pretty

When you say "I am so annoying and awful" you just insulted everyone who likes you and hangs out with you

Your self deprecation hurts everyone around you as well as you. It's telling them that you think they are wrong or stupid or have bad taste etc

And for friends who think you are prettier then insulting your appearance also says "if I'M ugly then YOU are hideous"

And I get it. It's so hard. I struggle with this daily

Do you know how many times a day I say I hate myself out loud?

This is something I am still constantly working on. I know it's a real struggle. Especially in real life where the compulsive need to degrade yourself verbally is really hard to overcome

(I try to push it into talking about how much I love my friends and family instead. That helps a little)

But when you're online you have the time to stop and delete the self deprecation before you post it. And you might even get to a point where you don't write it at all. With writing you have time to deal with that compulsion.

And you don't have to write praise for yourself either. Just practice not being mean about yourself online. Remind yourself that it hurts more than just you

[aannonn]

had the sudden urge to talk about this scene

something something

"i will let you live, freedom in your hands, just help me animate and you're free to do whatever." offer of peace..

something something Second casually rejects

"no. i dont want to." offer of living peace.

something something about the way they don't care.

something something about the way they refuse.

something something about the way they deny the chance to have freedom.

something something about the way they are willing to risk their own life.

something something about the way they don't seem to want to live.

something something about the way they-

-prioritize their friends' lives over their own life.

You are trapped, locked in a tight box with no way out. You are completely vulnerable, unarmed, and much, much smaller than the human who created you. You are about to be deleted, forever and all eternity. You don't want to be deleted, do you?

Suddenly, a text. Suddenly, an offer. Suddenly, a chance for freedom. Suddenly, a chance to live.

That would be good, wouldn't it? You are free. You are alive. Freedom is in your hands, and you can do whatever you want whenever you want, as long as you don't destroy anything and help the human with his animations. Wouldn't it be good? Wouldn't it be cool?

And still… You decline it.

You threw away the opportunity you had - the only and possibly last opportunity you had to be free, to live.

…All because you couldn't visualize a world where you wouldn't be with your friends. All because the mere thought of having to live with the freedom that was given to you so willingly hurts, because your friends didn't have that same opportunity. They were gone before they even had the chance.

What is there to live for? Your friends are gone. There is nothing else to live for.

...Something about the way Second didn't even hesitate- They were risking their own life because they didn't want to live without their friends; They were terrified to be deleted, but after c!Alan's offer, now they didn't even seem to care anymore ; Freedom? Give me my friends back then I will think about it.

I guess this is another thing that shows how much Second was willing to sacrifice just for their friends, even if it costs their own life

argshws thinking about this - Second cares about their friends more than they care about themselves - lowkey hurts awargshhwswsh gosh Sec

[bookishpraiseprincess]

abandonment issues 🤝 attachment issues

crying when he's not replying

because im afraid he doesn't

actually like me and wants

to stop talking to me

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘we were put on this earth desperate, hungry and willing.’

[text id: in a sharp set of knives, i looked for a hand to hold. / i could not stop myself from needing to belong somewhere, even if that somewhere was a burial ground.]

[go-whump-in-the-night]

Caretaking that makes things worse.

Caretaking that triggers the whumpee. Caretaking that is then discovered, revealed, and the whumpee is punished even harder for it. Caretaking that fills the whumpee with shame - they're weak, they're pathetic, they shouldn't need this. Caretaking by the whumper, healing the whumpee just to torture them again afterwards.

Just...caretaking that makes things worse.

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Beach Body (Idia x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Body insecurity, mild angst, self-esteem issues, self-deprecation (Idia)

A single speck of black was visible on the sandy beach. It sat alone, highlighted by wisps of fiery blue hair that peeked out from under its hood. The legs that curled up before the speck, tucked under its chin, were paler than the sand, as white as a sand dollar. The umbrella high above the speck was the only thing to shade it from the harsh, hot rays of the sun. It cowered away from them, as if it wished to disappear from the scene altogether. That assumption was correct - Idia would rather be elsewhere. 

The only reason the man was not back in the safety of his hotel room was the robot boy that played among the waves. Idia had made that waterproof body of his for the trip, so he could play with his peers like any other kid. Idia thought that would be enough; he could simply watch Ortho play from the balcony of their condo. Ortho had other plans, however. There was nothing the boy wanted more than to have his beloved brother with him out on the beach. He said it would be fun to make such memories with him. Though Idia silently disagreed, there was no way he could refuse those pleading eyes. 

So, here he was, sat alone on the beach while Ortho had fun. The boy would come check on him once in a while, try to coax him out into the sea to play with him, or to play in the sand. The only successful attempt had occurred two days ago, when the sandcastle building contest took place. To think Idia thought they actually had a chance at winning - laughable. It was bad enough that they weren't allowed to use magic; when Idia was asked to hand over his tech, and Ortho was told he couldn’t use any tricks of his own, Idia knew they were goners. They came in dead last that day. Ortho had fun, but never again would Idia expose himself to such humiliation. 

The black hoodie that covered his torso sweltered in the heat, but it was the best Idia had to cover up with. You won’t catch him frolicking about like some oblivious loser in a beach episode. That sunny spotlight was for the main characters, the hot NPCs - Idia was neither. He hated this so much…he let out a long sigh as he draped his arms over his knees and rested his chin atop them as he continued to watch Ortho. He cracked a little smile as he heard Ortho squealed in delight when Epel splashed him with water. Well, at least one thing he did was worth something. 

“Idia?” 

Idia flinched at the sudden sound of his name. He whipped his head around to look up at the person addressing him: [Y/n]. “W-What?” 

You pointed to his hoodie. “Aren’t you burning up in that thing?” 

Idia glanced to the side as he lied, “No.” 

“I can clearly see the sweat dripping off your face.” You tugged on his sleeve. “C’mon, you’ll burn up if you don’t!” 

“No!” Idia tugged the hoodie closer to his body. He glared down at the towel he sat on as he grumbled. “Geez, can’t a guy get some peace?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his sour attitude. “Are you still upset about the sandcastle contest?” 

“I’m not upset,” he mumbled. Another obvious lie. 

“Don’t be mad - ignore Leona and his bullshit.” You knelt down to look Idia in the eye. “He was just trying to get a rise out of you. You did a lot better than I would have.” 

Idia clicked his tongue as he scoffed. “You can make something worse than a pile of sand?” 

“It wasn’t a pile of sand,” you chuckled. “It was a cute little house! Ortho told me you came up with it; it’s the one from ‘Miko Doesn’t Talk’, right?” 

Idia’s eyebrows lifted, surprised you knew of the show. “Y-You like it?” 

“The anime? Yeah, I think it’s cute! I’ve only just started watching it though, so I can’t say much about it.” 

Idia let out a quiet giggle, “Noob - haven’t even seen a show that beginner grade.” 

It was your turn to scoff, though a smirk accompanied yours. “Well, if someone would come out of their room and talk to me more often, maybe I wouldn’t be such a noob.” 

Idia had nothing to say to that - he just rolled his eyes and looked back out at the sea. Ortho had come closer to shore, he and Deuce now looking for seashells. Baby games…but Idia thought it was cute how Ortho wanted to make them matching shell bracelets. He then saw you move out of the corner of his eye, a water bottle slowly coming into his line of sight. He looked back in your direction with a confused expression. 

“Here,” you said as you lifted the bottle closer to him. “I came to give you this. If you really have to keep on the hoodie, you need to drink more water.” 

“Water’s for normies,” he mused. 

“And heat stroke via stubbornness is for losers,” you retorted. 

Well, you had a point. Idia hated plain water, but he was thirsty. So, with an overdramatically annoyed sound, he took the plastic bottle from you. His fingers brushed against yours as he grasped the bottle; he quickly pulled away and looked down before you could see the pink of his cheeks. “Thanks…” 

“No problem.” Your smile was as bright as the sparkles that came with an SSR card pull. The swimsuit you wore made you look like the love interest in an otome game…why did Idia have to be like this? Before his thoughts could get too carried away, you broke Idia out as you spoke again. “Why are you wearing that anyway? It’s not even that windy today, and it’s not going to rain either. You don’t need it.” 

“You don’t need it,” Idia mocked in a voice that exaggerated yours. He scoffed again as he continued, “What do you want me to do, huh? Take it off and get laughed at by everyone?” He sipped his water sharply before he mumbled under his breath, “It’s not like I’m a protagonist with abs.” 

You furrowed your brow, “Epel doesn’t have abs, neither do Deuce or Ace, and they’re out without a shirt.” 

“They don’t look like a dweeb,” Idia grumbled as he took another swig of his water. 

“You do not look like a dweeb,” you said as you gently elbowed his side. 

Idia smirked again as he chuckled. “What do you have, x-ray vision? How do you know?” 

“I don’t,” you admitted, “but you’re not bad looking, Idia.” Idia glanced back your way as you finished your thought. “I’ve always thought you looked pretty cute.” 

Cute cute you called him cute aaaaahhh!!! 

‘Calm down Idia,’ Idia told himself. ‘You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re cool, you’re fine. Be cool, be…be cool.’ 

Idia managed a grin as he leaned a little closer. “C-Cute, huh?” He mentally called himself dumb for the stammer. “Like what, a puppy?” 

“No, not a puppy,” you laughed. “That’s more of Jack than anything.” Idia held back a laugh of his own as he saw Jack’s ears perk up in the distance. It nearly slipped when the beastman looked in your direction with a look between surprise and puzzled on his face. “I think…hmm…” You thought it over for a bit; honestly, Idia was afraid of what you might say. When you finally did speak, he was nowhere near prepared for what you said. 

“You remind me of the cute loner best friend the main character ends up with in a romantic comedy.”

Idia’s mind ran a mile a minute as he processed your words. Him, cute guy? Love interest in a romantic comedy? What? Good thing his hoodie hid his face when he looked down, or you’d see just how blushy he was. He barely registered the words that came out of his mouth in his flustered state. “Are you the main character?” he mumbled. 

“Huh?” you asked. “What did you say?” 

Idia quickly regained himself, though clumsily. “I, I, u-uh, nothing!” For the first time since he’d gotten to the beach, Idia scrambled up from his spot on the ground. “I-I just remembered I forgot, um…O-Ortho’s bag! Need that if he’s going to collect shells.” He was sweating more now than he ever had before. “I-I’ll see you later!” 

Never did anyone know that Idia Shroud could run that fast. Idia felt ridiculous, honestly - like some anime school girl that just got rejected by her crush. You hadn’t rejected him, but you surely would have laughed if you heard what he said. C’mon, you? With him? Laughable. You’d likely end up with one of the main guys, like Malleus, or Vil, or Leona.

It’d never be with him…never. Idia felt a lump form in his stomach as he slowed down. As his shoes clumped along the wooden walkway that led to and from the beach’s entrance, he tugged his hood further over his head. He could see his once blue hair was now a flaming bright pink. He groaned as he rolled his eyes to the sky, so very frustrated with himself. He told himself to be cool…when was he ever. 

“Get an actual beach body and maybe you could have a shot with the main character,” Idia grumbled to himself as he walked along. 

Hopefully you didn’t notice Ortho’s bag on the beach towel where he’d left it. 

[jazzy-art-time]

Maybe find a new metaphor to romanticize your own melancholy, you pensive idiot

[blackrosesandwhump]

Augusnippets Day 16: Dehumanisation/Conditioning

CW: Gothic whump, vampire whumper, human whumpee

As the clock strikes seven o’clock, sending echoes resounding through the house, whumpee turns slowly from the window and draws the curtains tightly. Better not to surprise his master with deadly sunlight, even if the light is waning and the room is whumpee’s own.

No, not his own. Nothing belongs to him. The room, the bed, the meals his master provides, they’re all gifts, borne of his master’s desire to keep his bloodbag alive and well. Whumpee doesn’t deserve any of it. I should be grateful, he tells himself, changing his clothes for dinner. I owe my life to him, after all. He could choose to kill me at any time.

The thought is a common one, neither terrifying nor surprising.

Whumpee opens the door and slips out into the cool, dark hallway. The house feels strangely quiet as he descends the carpeted stairs to the dining room. A brief wave of uneasiness creeps over him, but he pushes it back, focusing on calming his breathing, soothing his own nerves. The prospect of being fed on is still vaguely discomforting. But his master prefers to drink from a calm human, rather than an agitated one. So whumpee starts to count: fifteen steps to the bottom of the stairs, three paintings on the wall next to the dining room door, four breaths to open the door and step inside.

His heartbeat has slowed, and he crosses the room with barely-audible footsteps. Whumper is already sitting at one end of the long table. As if about to eat a human meal, whumpee thinks.

“Ah, there you are.” Whumper beckons curtly. “I’m ravenously hungry tonight.” He snaps his fingers.

And just like that, nothing matters. Nothing matters, not the way whumper grabs whumpee’s arm and yanks him to his knees, not the way whumper’s hands squeeze his throat so tightly he can’t breathe. Nothing matters, except that his master gets his fill and drinks all he can. That, after all, is whumpee’s purpose: to provide fresh, warm blood whenever needed.

When whumper pulls away at last, wiping his mouth, whumpee remains kneeling. His body won’t obey. His mind is disoriented. He can’t comprehend the passage of time, or the warm trickle down the side of his neck. It’s over. He’s fulfilled his purpose, for now. All that’s left is to return to the room that whumper says is his.

“Oh dear,” whumper says, taking a handkerchief to whumpee’s neck, “you look a little weak. Blood loss, I imagine. I did say I was hungry.” He reaches out a hand to help whumpee to his feet. But whumpee refuses and staggers upright on his own, nearly falling as the dining room dips and sways. He doesn’t deserve help. Whumper has already shown him enough mercy.

As whumpee climbs the stairs, sliding a trembling hand along the ornate railing to steady himself, the clock strikes eight.

Only twelve hours until the next feed.

@augusnippets

[askcometcare]