#I've lost so many good sentences just now I am so fucking mad
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Idk why you get hate when your blog is one of the most honest i have come across and your lore posts are so meta that i don’t even think most bb youtubers have discovered what you have lol. Y’all just got jealous haters.
It is far not the first time I've heard explanation that people are just jealous, really :') 👍 Like... That Alfred-chan (aka Clod Frollo) simply hated me and was jealous and latched onto the first chance to justify the unending wish to remove me is painfully apparent at this rate. Inventing up bigotry, harm and opinions that were never there to get the chance to declare someone you hate a "witch" is the oldest trick in the book! If you convince people the person is bad and harmful, you are automatically justified to treat them however you want.
It might be my lore, because they were really mad at the fact that I write essays on multiple occasions? Like, they try to paint it as me "having no life" or "being mad", but. dude. dude you are projecting. If the only way you could write essay on a topic you care about is abandoning all your chores and needs and/or getting mad at someone, then I have bad news for your intellect? :/ This is a very common attitude from people that cannot say anything interesting on their own and just post the same two-sentence brainlet takes about how much male characters/fans suck or how their [LGBT headcanon] is the only true interpretation and everyone who disagrees can't analyse media. 🤔 So how can they feel better about not having as many interesting headcanons or good theories? They've picked the low-effort way - to attempt destroying the value of "lore essays" by painting them as a bad thing! I will be real tho - they've gotten like, two asks about their headcanons in a lifetime (both about the same character, ironically) and shown that they CAN post something good when they want to, so eventually it is the matter of choosing low-effort way. Destroying is easier than creating!
It could also be freedom, and honesty, like you said. Some people's only trump card is being """good"""! Some people think if they put 'transphobes DNI' in their bio and regularly seek to call out bigotry that isn't here they are automatically a good person who is now allowed to stalk, harass, be toxic in general and push even genuinely innocent people under the bus. But I do not have to compensate for lack of personality and latch onto any ideology or activism - I am already a pretty awesome and interesting individual on my own. 😎 Not to mention how they have to put on the hard show of fighting "for the common good" to keep their following engaged, meanwhile I still have very genuine and deep support even despite my honest fuck-ups (forget the fabricated accusations!). I don't have any other theory than them knowing (maybe subconsciously) that by surrounding themselves by witch-hunters ideological soldiers, they've trapped themselves in the situation where if THEY fuck up - their "fans" will turn on them, if not cancel them. Building following based on ideology instead of shared interest (or one's own unique radiant personality, like mine 😎) is the worst thing you can do to yourself. Because... guess what? Correct, because that sort of people eats their own.
________________________
I'd appreciate no more personal asks like this for some time, because I genuinely start to feel guilty talking about myself so much (in my personal blog.... hmmm logical...). But again, kids, remember - you must make your worth with cool shit like talent, great personality traits, positively encouraging others, etc and not in ideology and making up witches you could "defeat". That person has the capacity by having some nice ideas, being able to craft stuff, drawing. They could easily win all the supporters they've lost back and outgrow me by LARGE merit if they apologised, admitted mistakes and committed to cultivating positive emotions, discussions and content. It is basically so easy and it is so much cringe to take so many Ls because of jealousy and obsession?
#personal#ask replies#/drama#honestly? positive emotions are STRONGER#they're harder to create yes#but the last time i got pissed at a bad g3hrman take for example?#i combated it not with vaguepost but with creating a very wholesome poll about him that everyone liked#i am slowly turning into local toxic positivity freak i know but:#my depressed ass found it more helpful to react at the takes i hate by nurturing my takes#hate a ship? post headcanons about a ship you prefer instead!#hate a character? utilize their 'awfullness' in a fanfic or fanart or boost the character you do like#hate a take? write an essay with your counter-take without vagueblogging#why waste time and energy on a person you already 'defeated' instead of rebuilding what you've lost to do that?#my friends told me there is a demand for 'moral victory' too because i still enjoy my videogame and mutuals#and like that's against the rules i guess? hell if i know anymore#like... okay keep convincing yourself that you are harming me for 'a good cause'.#because admitting how much of a mess you've made and how untrue your accusations were would crash the narcissist won't it?#i tend to make enemies whose whole problem is them figuring out they misjudged me but they NEED to stay in denial#that person literally never admits their mistakes - not in regards to people nor in fandom/headcanons stuff#even though doing so would only paint them in a good light#dude. duuuuude. being 'always right' just makes you look like a prick. admitting mistakes attracts hella more simps trust me
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well no 25 tonight because I clicked something that refreshed the dash and I lost the past half hour’s worth of writing and I have work in the morning but whatever I guess, here’s 24 as best as I can recall. next time I’m using the drafts feature
genuinely a very wholesome and sweet episode, a jumping-around episode, a filling-in-the-gaps-episode.
jc, while aware of politics and practical about them, is not a brilliant political mind, and unlike all of the other sect leaders, he has no elders and only one strong aide. he needs wwx, as a clean leader, desperately. and for the three siblings, I think they handle this incident with a lot of dignity, with yanli falling back on an image of a dutiful daughter to a dead sect leader to deflect jgs’s offer. but it only worked because wwx was smart enough to flatter while opposing jgs, so they came off looking grateful and filial instead of repulsed by jgs’s outrageous gall. and not all political leaders are shrewd thinkers, they just need to have good aides and allies in the cultivation world (or be very loud and go with the majority opinion...looking at you sect leader yao)
seriously, lxc has lqr and other unnamed elders plus his brother, nmj definitely has counselors and military commanders (and experience, and a hard-won reputation of being dangerous to fuck with), and jgs probably lost none of his inner circle to the war. plus he has that slippery scheming brilliant son of his desperate for his approval. lxc and nmj and jgy are sworn brothers and personal friends (except jgy and nmj lol). jc has literally nobody with a position of authority to help him out except wwx
the way jgy smiles when wwx interrupted the banquet was so ominous. like wwx, he is incredibly resourceful. but while wwx will use anything to achieve his goals, jgy will use anyone
wait. how were the yin iron fragments destroyed? wasn’t it impossible? wwx was asleep or it could have been the STA.
jfm gave little wwx the exact same advice for archery that he gave sixth junior brother. what jfm, no new insights after almost a decade? typical
jc is...a terrible leader tbh. he starts alright with promising to protect jiang sect but he immediately falls back into myu’s tactic of harsh criticism and personal attack. he doesn’t want to appear weak to his disciples, but he isn’t helping boost confidence very much. yanli keeps things together because she is an angel. meanwhile wwx is in an alcohol-soaked depressive episode that looks very much like a fun jaunt to the city probably because he can't bear to be in LP sober and no longer has a war to focus his energy on or lwj around him to make him feel better
lqr, as an elder and the uncle of the twin jades, has the authority to give even lxc orders. he doesn’t seem concerned with the wen civilians being murdered, but soothing resentment is an important job of a cultivator. he send lxc out but he’s clocked how lwj feels about wwx and decides that’s too risky to let develop. bit late for that, lqr, that boy is gone. like, did it really take you this long to notice?
but lwj is a stubborn caring fool who thinks that if he plays the right music well enough, wwx will be okay and happy again and stop destroying himself with resentful energy, so he defies his uncle’s orders, sneaks behind his back, and breaks into the forbidden music library to memorize secret super-powerful music in the name of gay love
everyone, have I mentioned how much I love lan wangji? I really, really love lan wangji
could music have helped? such a straightforward answer to a complicated problem, naturally lwj would gravitate towards a clear fix. that’s very like him
but the things that wwx went through in these past episodes, it’s impossible to walk away from without both serious emotional scars as well as being in danger of qi-deviation. so maybe lwj frantically finding music and internally muttering “surely THIS will be the thing to save him” may have helped him settle the spirits, but what would have ultimately been more healing would be...support, understanding, maybe jc learning about the gc and cutting him slack, less responsibility in LP and the chance to focus on himself and only himself, the chance to leave LP and not feel guilty for it, not being judged or targeted or punished or rushed, feeling safe enough to tell the truth about what happened and work with his friends and family to reduce harm on himself. he needs to change his mindset and how he conceptualizes his own suffering, I think. it’s not that lwj is wrong about the music helping, exactly, but he hasn’t identified the underlying problem here. for the circumstances, I don’t know if all this would be possible. it all feels very inevitable
lwj’s very quiet struggle with his own principles and standards of behavior, his conception of evil and good, his own forming moral code, and his slowly changing adherence to laws is such a great arc, and I find it a real shame that it’s so background. like a lot of things about lwj, this arc is subtle and not much is stated explicitly, so you have to really pay attention and read between the lines to get the full impact. maybe that means it’s written in a way that’s very attuned to his character, lol
lxc and wwx meeting is an EXCELLENT scene between brothers-in-law. wwx feeling at ease enough to openly joke about drinking in CR directly TO of the clan leader which is so ajsdkfhdkdf and I do love the gentle way lxc reminds wwx that lwj really cares about him. and that wwx was all ready to visit gusu for a chance to see lwj copy lines lol. he only pulls back when lxc mentions getting him back to the way of the sword. but I find it notable here that he says he does trust lxc and lwj. it’s just...he really doesn’t think they can help and he needs to keep his appearance of strength. for himself, and for jc, and for the jiangs
wwx says he was in gusu a few years ago - is that 2-3 years? maybe 15 at gusu is too young. I didn’t think the training arc/massacre/campaign took overall more than a year, and then another year and a half at BM, then he’s dead. I figured he was 20 or 21 at nightless.
oh god, he’s less than two years away from killing himself in this scene
after lxc’s failed intervention, wwx’s return to LP is a disaster. and jc doesn’t even mean to keep hurting him, he doesn’t know! regardless, wwx has to seek out yanli to feel safe again because dealing with jc when he’s in a good mood and doesn’t have to be lied to must be tiring enough, not to mention now
adults babytalking is so fucking obnoxious irl and it’s only okay in fictional scenarios because it’s a short scene and it’s his only way to ask to comfort or affection. and it’s kind of endearing, I guess? it reminds me of a cat. or my younger brother when he’s being cute. he loves cats too. wonder if wwx likes cats.
I love their little conversation about like-liking someone and I find wwx’s response, his fear of his own feelings, really interesting and tbh underexplored in fanbase. he’s not worried about being trapped by a person, but by his own love for someone. that he’s concerned about it interfering with his goals or freedom rather than excited about exploring that potential relationship with another person...that’s actually very sad to me. it’s true he’s scared of sincerity and maybe of how strong his own feelings are but it’s also like he doesn’t prioritize his own happiness. was he always like this? was gusu-era wwx ever shy, or did he just not realize what this was yet?
wwx openly talking about how yanli is the one reason jc hasn’t killed him yet is, in hindsight, horrifying (also, wwx calls jc a-cheng when talking to yanli, ha). I know it’s mostly a joke but genuinely if yanli had left to get married and jc and wwx had to live together they would both be SO miserable
what happened was so awful for everyone and I want wwx to have a link to his family here again, but lbr he would have been with no core or support or open affection struggling with his trauma and loneliness alongside another teenager dealing with his own issues and they never communicate properly, they fight all the time, they disagree about core ideals, wwx can’t help hm in the way jc expects him to, like my god they love each other but this is not a sustainable relationship and wwx deserves better than that. and jc needs to be able to form and maintain relationships without his sister or brother acting as his anger translator, for his own sake.
after all he’d done for LP and the jiangs, maybe the kindest thing would be to let wwx go...but does he really want to? I think even now it’s a hard question for him. maybe more in this episode than any other time in the show though
yanli telling wwx he’s always happy, whatever happens, sounds so cruel when you know he’s undergoing such suffering and only smiling through it for the sake of everyone else. yanli didn’t mean it like that and I think he did find a lot of peace in that moment with her but it always felt like such a curse to me.
the final scene is so sweet....siblings bickering about soup and yanli teasing jc who straightens his robes in mock seriousness...this lives in my mind forever.. when they’re at their best with each other
oh wait but then jc implies that jgy will always be a social inferior to his half-brother and isn’t worth praising or getting to know, which wwx looks offended at, because hey, wwx is a social inferior too!
but jc also reminds wwx that he has a real political position to uphold so behave, etc. which to his credit, I really think he tries to. it’s just some things can’t be swept under the rug for the sake of appearances. wen qing...
and the last scene where wwx starts to realize he can actually feel joy again after all the horrible things that happened to him...such a beautiful dreamlike sequence
#I've lost so many good sentences just now I am so fucking mad#drafts it is for the next 26 episodes#cql rewatch#long post
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Closer
Neil x F!Reader
Summary: Plot what plot.
Warnings: 18+ (and I really mean it this time), they're both trying to dominate and I've no clue what's going on.
Author's Notes: Suppose this is what happens when an image won't leave you alone and you crave a self-indulgent one-shot... I don't even know, but this took remains of my sanity. Challenged myself with more graphic and this is what we ended up with.
Thank you Shet for reassurance through writing this and not having enough of my whining.
Feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy!
It is always the same. That brilliant idea to go for lunch and do a round of sightseeing in the afternoon because surely it wouldn’t be too bad. Right?
Well, whoever thought of that was owed an excruciating death in the fires of Hell. Or Orcus, as would be more appropriate for the current location. Who knew the Italian coast transforms into the Death Valley over summer? Sighing with exasperation, you waited not so patiently as Neil slipped the key card into the door and opened the room with a typical flourish. Feeling the constant trickle of sweat down your back, you pushed him inside unceremoniously and let the door close with a thud. As the cold air enveloped your body with the sweetest of embraces, you could not hold back a pleased groan.
“Fuck” the curse not enough to express the internal pain “Jesus fucking Christ, I hate this heat,” accentuating the meaning you aggressively lowered the aircon temperature to 18C “Did I mention that temps above 25 Celsius should be made illegal?” remembering about Neil’s presence, you glared at him.
It was his shit idea in the first place. And you were never letting that one go. He was staring at you with amusement glimmering in the blue eyes. Another reason to punch him in the teeth. Or something.
“More or less twenty times within the last hour, why?” answering your question, he opened the minibar and took out a bottle of water.
Nonchalantly perching on the desk, he took a longer sip, still watching you with curiosity. No remorse whatsoever over the tortures he put you through. Annoying.
But not more so than the sweat still running down your skin, making the fabric stick to your body in places you never deemed possible. When leaving the hotel three hours ago, the linen shirt sounded like a good idea. Now, with half of it drenched, you were sure nudity was the only viable option to go outside. Groaning with frustration, you tugged at the garment, grimacing at the feel of the damp fabric.
“God, everything just feels… wet” uttering the word with loathing, you added, “Like soaking wet,”
That got Neil’s attention. He glanced up with the lips slightly parted, one eyebrow raised.
“Everything?” a quick scan of your body, swallowing hard as though the suggestion triggered thirst that no water could quench.
Uh-huh. The irritation too high to give in just yet. Instead, you allowed yourself to sweep your gaze over his form leisurely. The only sign that he too was bothered by the heat was the glistening forehead and flushed cheeks. The usually fluffy mane tamed, strands sticking to the temples. Still devilishly handsome. With the long legs crossed and the blue polo shirt perfectly bringing out the colour of his eyes, he looked godly. Unfair. Prompted by that thought, you closed the distance and snatched the chilled water bottle out of his hand:
“It’s not like you’d get it, though. Even soaked in sweat you look like a bloody… male Aphrodite” throwing in the slight, you quickly downed the rest of the water.
Another look at your boyfriend was enough to assure you the metaphor worked. Neil was gaping at you, utterly puzzled, and then slowly looked down as if to check himself out. You snickered when he lifted the edge of the shirt and touched his abdomen with a dream-like expression. Fondly: idiot.
“Is that an insult or a compliment? Because I admit I lost you there” shaking off the stupor, he met your watchful gaze with a frown.
It was difficult to stay mad for much longer. And so…
“Whichever one you want,” shrugging, you unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to the ground, “I need a shower. ASAP”
Without waiting for Neil to respond, you started taking off the shirt. With a disgusted sound, you threw it next to the skirt and positioned yourself underneath the AC. Still too many clothes. The noise of plastic bottle hitting the bin and then:
“Whoa…” the playful tone making you look up straight into the mischievous sparks in Neil’s eyes, “That’s giving me all sorts of ideas” he eyed you slowly, gaze taking in your body clad only in underwear.
Not that it was anything new. And usually, you would play along with pleasure, curious about where it might lead you this time. Now, however, that fire of annoyance burning bright still needed tending. And shower sounded much better than whatever Neil might offer.
With a huff, you reached to unclasp the bra and let it join the carnage in the hallway. One look at his hungry expression was enough to prompt an idea. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and, without leaving time to react, pressed the bathroom handle:
“I won’t lock the door” an off-hand remark rather than an invitation.
But you knew it would work. It always did.
Once inside, thanks to the striptease you indulged in, all that was left was to take off the panties and step into the shower. You turned on the rain head and sighed with happiness when the chilly water cooled off your body. That is what bliss felt like. You closed your eyes, contented enough to stand under the running water. Grounding yourself in the feeling of your palm pressed firmly to the tiled wall. A smug smirk spreading on your lips when, finally, you heard the bathroom door open and close. So predictable.
You kept your back turned to the entrance to the shower, eyes closed if only to keep up the act of mild irritation. Not so mild, in fact, but enough not to give Neil satisfaction by throwing yourself in his arms. He would have to work a little to get something out of it.
At first, a tentative touch running up your spine in the familiar expression of his presence. Enough to trigger the light flicker of passion. With the cold water, it was easy to pretend the goosebumps were not his accomplishment. Encouraged by your stillness, Neil took a step, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. A traitorous gasp swallowed with effort. You heard him chuckle lowly while slowly caressing your body. A puff of warmer air against the side of your neck:
“Ever since I saw you in that sundress, I wanted to do this,” Neil whispered the confession with confidence.
Lips grazing over the shell of your ear, alighting the nerve endings with precision. You knew which dress he meant. The clothing choice from a day earlier, haunting with an accompanying pride. Good to know.
“What exactly?” feigning nonchalance, you kept your hands pressed against the wall and the glass window.
For now, it was easy to ignore the need slowly pooling in your lower stomach. You wanted to keep on playing the game a little longer. To see how far he was willing to go.
Neil tightened the grip, winding both of his arms around your waist. No space left between you.
“Pull you flush against me,” the explanation complemented with a brave sweep of hand over your stomach “Feel your skin and curves under my fingertips” instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, the desire building up steady “Feel the way you shiver whenever I touch you like this” his fingers teasingly running up and down your navel.
The assumption was enough to give back that spark of annoyance. A fight to keep up the role a little longer. Struggling with the overwhelming breathlessness, you whispered back the question:
“Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit?” you reached behind you to run a ghostly touch over his hipbone.
Feeling the skin and the relishing in the shallow gasp. In retaliation, Neil let his hands venture higher, cupping your breasts and circling the nipples. Fuck. At that move, there was no way of stopping the shudder running through your body.
“Am I?” you heard the amusement in his voice, palms executing death perfectly.
Nothing left to do but sigh and press up against him in search of fulfilment. But the teasing was far from finished. You felt his lips experimentally glide over the nape of your neck, collecting the water droplets and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Searching for support, you firmly placed your hand on his hip, gasping at the feel of him pressing into your backside. The hardness never failing to cause a rush of excitement flowing through your body. As though sensing your growing arousal, Neil continued the teasing in a low, soft tone:
“I wanted to kiss down your neck, graze my teeth over your perfect skin” making his words come true, he trailed kisses down the nape of your neck.
A sigh each time he lightly bit your shoulder, a groan with every single butterfly touch along your shoulder blades. Carefully tiptoeing the line between animalistic passion and tender caress that seemed to define your relationship. Only this time, with anger still fresh on your mind, you began getting impatient, suddenly eager for him to speed it up. To give you something more substantial.
Using the strike of courage, you reached your hand further back, curious fingers dancing over him in the mildest of provocations. To give him a sign that patience was running thin. It worked for Neil let out a strangled groan and stopped the careful study of your neck with a painful hickey over the pulse point. That was bound to leave a deep red mark. He did not give you time to react, pulling you somehow even closer and delving the hand between your legs with ease:
“To slip my fingers between your thighs and feel how wet you are because of me,” the sentence murmured with an unmistakable tint of want hazing his mind.
He wasted no time, instantly parting your folds, collecting the arousal, and spreading it to ease whatever was bound to come next. The feeling was familiar yet still clouding your brain with need. Because now even the cold water was not helping the rising temperature. Nothing left to lose. Time to give in and take what he would offer. As he repeated the torturous move, barely touching your clit or putting pressure on the throbbing parts, you decided to take matters into your hands.
“And?” using the question as a distraction to encircle his wrist.
And raise the offensive hand to your lips. Licking his fingers clean before the water could. A sharp gasp told you it worked. Using the momentum, you turned around in his embrace and met the shocked, darkened gaze with a smirk of your own. Neil glanced at your lips as though tempted to collect the remains of your taste from them and locked his eyes with yours:
“Get down on my knees and have a taste of my favourite drug,” a murderous glint within the blue depths.
Knowing well enough how much you enjoyed that. How often you would ask for it.
Your thighs clenched on their own accord, anticipation heightening the senses. To find a brief relief, you rose on your toes and crashed your mouth into his, knowing Neil would meet you halfway. The tumultuous kiss filled with chaos, hunger, and need, betraying the love underscoring every other adjective befitting your connection. The tongues easily slipping in, curling around each other, seeking the ultimate pleasure.
“What’s stopping you?” after a long snog, you broke the contact and panted out, resting your forehead against his.
Allowing yourself a second of gentleness. Admiring the affectionate look in Neil’s eyes, you slowly caressed his body. Returning the previous torments with your dose of playfulness. Letting him remember that you were not the only one that was so ready. That the attraction was mutual, and you knew that very well. Explorative touches down his length, enjoying the way he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to find the lost thread. After a beat, he met your gaze once again. The darkness startling.
“Nothing” using a second of hesitation, Neil took your courageous hand in his and searched your face, “Only… say please” the satisfied smirk added the wicked gleam to his face.
You considered scoffing and pushing him out to keep the pride intact. But… with the core practically dripping with the need for a release, that had to be forgotten. Clenching your jaw to stop the shame from springing up, you uttered the word with apprehension:
“… Please,” making sure to show him the extent of annoyance.
A retaliation already forming in your mind. Revenge would be sweet.
“Good girl” thought processes cut short with the two words.
Oh fuck. Simple, yet more effective than anything else. A jolt of want passing through your body as Neil tipped your chin, arrogantly pleased with himself. He could read you like a book, knowing well what praise would do. This time there was no holding back. No shame or reluctance.
“You fucking-” spitting out the words with annoyance, your rant got stopped with a finger pressed firmly against your lips.
“Shush,” the stern tone, shutting you up with yet another wave of arousal.
The steel look in Neil’s eyes only increasing the sensation. It was bound to get interesting. As if drawn by your dark stare, he closed the gap and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The water, running down, slipping in the gap between you, failing to satisfy the craving. Prodded by the sudden flash of need, you let your teeth catch Neil’s lower lip and tugged at it forcefully. A clear signal to stop stalling. Ending the contact with a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, he met your wild gaze with a calculating assessment. You knew the game well, frozen by the multitude of feelings. Not that it would’ve made him speed up. He enjoyed the control too much to give in.
A final searching look, your hand helplessly clinging to the gaps between the tiles.
“The louder, the better, you know that” brushing his nose over your ear, he whispered the command huskily.
Another reason to hold on tight. A flare-up of anger within your chest, mixing with the increasing frustration.
“I hate you,” you got as far as seething out the sentence before the voice died in your throat.
Neil grinned and lightly pushed you at the wall to give himself the needed space. Without wasting a moment, he started leaving kisses down your body. Gentle pecks on the shoulders, softening the previous damage. Tongue swirling around your nipples, causing a whimper to escape through your parted lips. Your free hand instinctively latched onto his head, finding an anchor in the wet blonde strands. Slowly, Neil inched his way down, kneeling at your feet, hands running up your thighs, creating sparks in their wake.
“Let’s see how long that holds true” he looked up, nothing but a smug smile and dark, hungry eyes.
Fucked. Terrifyingly so.
There was no time to react as he left a trail of kisses up your thighs, getting closer yet taking his time. And then, something you would never get tired of. The first, experimental kitten lick along your slit, parting the folds and spreading the arousal. As if that was needed. Lapping up everything you were offering and making you tighten the grip over his hair. Shocks passing through your body upon every single touch of his tongue. As you yanked on his mane with force, letting out a string of curses, Neil raised his head. Your eyes were drawn to the glistening lips which he licked clean with an unhidden expression of delight.
“God, how I love this taste,” the compliment aimed with lethal precision, satisfaction lighting up his eyes.
Only to pick up the action the very next second. Temperature constantly rising, no mercy given. It only got worse when Neil added his skilful hand to the mix. Stroking the clit, eliciting moans and gasps. Your eyes screw shut, focusing on the way it felt when his finger entered you and started curling inside in search of that sweet spot.
“Jesus fuck” the profanity escaping when he added the second digit, all the while letting his tongue circle the sensitive bud.
Chuckle vibrating through your core, the unoccupied hand contradicting the moment with tender strokes along your hip. As if to soothe and support.
The haze, getting heavier, overcasting everything with the tint of need. For a release. For that high, the explosion of pleasure you were slowly edging. The scales tipped with two fingers curling inside you, hitting the most sacred of places, and Neil’s lips sucking on the clit without moderation. Taking everything with eagerness and delectation.
With the heat almost unbearable and the edges of your vision darkening, you could only pull at his hair with force and rasp out:
“Neil, I can’t-” the intent lost in the outburst of pleasure.
Every nerve, existing to receive what Neil was offering. Every cell, burning with ecstasy. You could feel the incoming wave, ready to succumb to it without a fight. Until he raised his head once more, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers, everything synced up perfectly.
“Come… on. For me,” the emphasis not escaping your overflooded mind, gaze meeting his helplessly, “Don’t be shy” a whisper, darkness tinting the vowels.
The feeling of defeat, adding a dose of shame into the whirlwind, fuelling the ideas of vengeance.
But there was no time to concentrate when Neil finished the act with the third finger easing in. Tipping you off the edge with a piercing cry and a desperate tug on his hair. The strength of the pull making him groan loudly, tongue collecting the arousal with frantic moves. Pleasure flooding your vision. Nothing but the water, Neil, and his body, solid beneath your shaking hands.
Your knees buckled, the force of the aftershocks ripping through your system. Feeling the high course through the veins, you shut your eyes and let out quiet whimpers, unable to process the reality. Sex with Neil was always memorable, but it has never been this intense. Especially only for an entrée.
Feeling your body relax, Neil retracted the hand and placed a final kiss on your clit with saintly reverence. You opened your eyes in time to see him look up, the dark blue irises rimmed with long dark eyelashes. Adoration. Want. Weak from the strength of that release, your legs wobbled as you tried to change position. Foot slipped on the slick tiles, and you already anticipated the fall when an arm wound around your waist, pulling you upright. Startled, you barely comprehended when he got up and saved you, making use of the smooth moves and long limbs.
“Got you,” a whisper against your temple as Neil hugged you close, cradling your body with care, “Always” his gaze met yours, tenderness overshadowing every other feeling.
On reflex, you mirrored his soft smile in an expression of gratitude. For much more than saving your ass from the bruises. Despite the maelstrom of emotions, you gave in to the gentle moment and returned the embrace, pressing your cheek against his chest. Listening to the fast, familiar heartbeat, you whispered:
“You nearly killed me just now,” the breathless tint only giving evidence to the statement.
It’s not like he wouldn’t know. With screams like those, he had to. Neil chuckled, one of his hands venturing up to cradle your head, the other tracing shapes onto your back. Water flowing down with the steady stream, enveloping your embraced bodies in comfortable warmth.
“That wasn’t the intention,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of your head.
You could hear the pleased tone there, indicating what you suspected. Following the playful thread, you leaned back enough to meet his gaze and asked:
“What was it then?” a hand running through his hair, watching the strands darken when wet.
At the roots, his natural light brown colour was beginning to show, adding a surprising edge to his startling physique. For you, that meant another evening soon spent sat on the edge of the toilet seat, laughing at his attempts at dying the hair on his own. Those were fun moments.
Catching your absent gaze, Neil tipped your chin to bring you back to the present and then grinned:
“To show you how much I adore you,” the simple answer laid with a soft kiss on your lips, signing off the sentiment.
You opened your mouth to let his tongue in instantly, breathing in the air he was willing to share and relishing in the familiarity of the moves. Lips slowly gliding over each other, tongues caressing and teasing. This one was filled with tenderness, an expression of love and devotion rather than hunger. A breather.
Not for long. Using the kiss as a distraction, you switched the positions, making sure Neil would have his back pressed against the wall. For convenience’s sake. Breaking the contact, you whispered the single-worded response:
“Mutually,” unable to wipe the devilish smirk from your face, you waited for a beat to let him catch up.
Those widening eyes were a perfect cue to grin with satisfaction at the perfectly executed setup for the payback. Neil stared back at you with confusion deepening on his face, slowly taking in the reality. Finally, a single word, a prelude to the mountain of questions:
“What-” his brow furrowed, giving you the needed moment to step in.
“Vengeance,” you winked, and wasting no time, lowered onto your knees, “Let me just… now that’s a wonderful view” shifting into the most comfortable position, you gave him a long admiring look from the new vantage point.
It really was. Never failing to make you that tiny bit more eager and hungrier since the first time. Especially when knowing what he is capable of.
The flood of specific memories flushing up your cheeks and giving needed courage to begin. You glanced up, searching for consent, and met Neil’s hazed stare. He seemed transfixed as if already well under your spell, one of his hands mirroring your desperate move from minutes prior, clinging to the tiles in search of support. You raised an eyebrow in the silent question. Yes?
Please. The fervent nod accompanied by the way he swallowed hard was all you waited for.
Never breaking eye contact, you licked your lips thoroughly, all the while using your hands to stroke him lightly. Enough to elicit a gasp. Emboldened by the reaction, you opened your mouth, letting out a warm puff of air to tease him. Neil groaned, the free hand reaching out to cup your cheek with tenderness you did not anticipate. As if distracting himself, he brushed away the damp strands of hair sticking to your face and brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. Gratitude. A signal to start.
A few kitten licks along the length, letting him get used to the sensation. Sharp exhales, muscles tensing. Upping the game, you started focusing on specific areas, using the sound cues and the way his hand tightened the hold over the nape of your neck. Now and then, you would look up to see the darkened pupils and lips parted in the purest expression of pleasure. The furrowed brow and the clouded gaze, telling you when the right time was to bring his tip into your mouth. Gently swirling your tongue around the head, savouring the taste with quiet hums. Stroking the shaft with one hand, you used the other to rake your fingernails over his abdomen. Returning the markings he inflicted earlier.
The string of curses leaving his lips amongst the moans and groans was a good indication that it worked. Noticing the hint of impatience in how he quivered, hips thrusting on an impulse, you slowly inched your mouth down his length, enveloping him as far as you could without it becoming uncomfortable. The answering loud moan told you it was exactly what he needed. Meeting his dark stare, you nodded, permitting him to start moving his hips. The adoration meeting desire in his eyes as Neil sped up. Adjusting to the pace he needed, you started sucking on him. Cheeks hollowed, tiniest of moans drawn out to let him know you enjoyed the act, tongue collecting everything he was giving, anticipating the end with a familiar heat pooling between your thighs once again. Because seeing him like this, was more exciting than you deemed possible.
Then his thrusts got sloppier, knuckles of the hand clinging to the gaps in the tiles whitening; groans replacing any other sound. Soon. Suddenly he seemed to sober up a notch, blinking twice as though forcing the brain to work and then rasping out:
“God, I’m going to-” the meaning interrupted by a whimper when you took the opportunity to increase the pressure by a notch.
You could see the ridiculous dilemma flash in the blue eyes as if he worried about something like that. As if he has not just devoured you like the god’s nectar. Certainly, an idiot. Continuing the bold strokes with your hand, you made sure to meet his gaze before echoing the encouragement:
“For me,” a hint of recognition reflected at you, adding the mischievous tint to your smile, “Please,” grinning widely, you quickly put your mouth back to the task.
Intensifying every move to make sure he would be satisfied. It did not take long. Neil moaned out your name breathlessly before he tensed and came with a shudder ripping through his body. The hand cupping your cheek fell onto your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh with the force of the release. Swallowing every drop of what he gave you with delight, you made sure to show him the extent of satisfaction in your gaze.
Once Neil was done, he leaned heavily on the tiled wall, quick breaths escaping through the parted mouth. Eyes still clouded yet watching you constantly with evident fascination. Licking your lips clean, you accepted the hand he reached out to pull you up. Resting your palm over his racing heart, you leaned in close to whisper:
“Every inch a gentleman, I see” an appreciative glance down, as if he could miss the innuendo.
His eyes flashed, the familiar darkness creeping at the edge of the blissful fatigue. To your advantage, there was still a moment left of this more subdued Neil. Afterwards? Who knows. The spark of excitement lit up in your chest as you closed the gap and took him by surprise with a heated kiss. Pushing him further up against the wall and taking the lead with your tongue instantly prodding him to open. The grip on your laced hands, tightening as Neil started reciprocating the kiss with an equal eagerness. As if you both have been starving for each other. There was never quite enough oxygen to fulfil needs, and so, after few long minutes interrupted with stolen breaths and fleeting pecks, you broke apart, staring at one another with awe. Neil’s eyes wandered over your face with almost dream-like enchantment written all over.
“Wow,” he breathed out the word with a small smile creeping on the edge of his lips.
It was difficult not to grin back, overwhelmed with love for the man. With your heart close to melting from the tenderness and softness, you chose to strike:
“Is that all the praise I’m going to receive?” quirked eyebrow and feigned dismay.
If only to push him where you needed him to be. Because as much as this gentle and affectionate side of your relationship was everything you could have asked for, currently, you needed more. More than this. Using the palm pressed firmly against his chest, you trailed your fingers south, watching with satisfaction at the tiniest of twitches, betraying the hidden desire, confirming the assumptions. As if slowly waking up from the daze, Neil caught your curious fingers in his and raised your hand to lay a kiss on your knuckles. The playful glimmer already there.
“I’m afraid you stole my breath away. Again” a shrug with an apologetic tint to the tone.
As a contradiction to the meekness acted out, he let go of your hand and wound his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Pressing your bodies against each other, every curve and edge fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. Like two halves of a whole. You glanced up at him, trying to judge the current mood, finding nothing but beauty. The wet hair, sticking to the forehead, water dripping down the slope of his nose and onto the bruised lower lip. Up this close, he looked as if he belonged in Michelangelo’s workshop, fine features chiselled with precision. Ocean blue eyes framed with long and dark eyelashes drawing you in, the longer you kept on staring. Mouth curled up in a soft smile as if even the sight of your lovesick gaze was something he wanted to commit to memory.
With a sight like that, there was only one thing you could do. Feeling the need pulse in your veins, you reached out to turn off the water. It was time to act. Neil looked at you questioningly as if willing to follow the tempo you were about to set. Biting down on your lip, you met his gaze with poise.
“Good. Because that was rather… enjoyable” lowering down your voice, you noticed how his eyes widened; using the tricks learned from Neil himself, your hand ventured down once again “I love how you taste. The way you shiver as I make you come apart” as your fingers danced along his length, he gasped, a shudder running through his body “Sculpted by the gods yet falling into pieces at my command” whispering out the punchline, you gently stroked him to elicit a groan.
A satisfying response. Feeling courage surge through your chest, you smirked, observing as he seemed to absorb your words slowly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing with effort. The pupils widened, darkening the irises and bringing out the predatory flicker. Mission accomplished. Once again, his hand darted out, stopping your teasing with fingers encircling the wrist tightly.
“You’re asking for trouble,” the husky voice sending shivers down your spine.
You met his gaze, noticing the evident change. It was bound to get interesting. Once you tasted the power, it was hard to give it back. Stepping out of the embrace, you noticed:
“Am I? I thought we’re done here” without waiting for him, you made a move to exit the shower.
Knowing he would follow. You made it as far as grabbing the towel hanging on the hook and wrapping it over your body before his strong arms encircled around you from behind. Pulling you against his chest, just as it all began. Then, a whisper with lips brushing over your ear:
“We’re far from done” oh.
Good. You barely had time to react when Neil lifted you, bridal style, and opened the bathroom door with a kick. Bewildered, you looked at him with curiosity, relishing in the way he cradled you. Possessiveness and care making your head spin with the implications. However, you barely had the time to think of the right question when he stopped abruptly by the long desk lining one side of the room and set you down on the counter. Oh. Consciously adjusting the towel covering your body, you risked a glance at Neil. The blue eyes clouded with need; pupils dilated. The taxing gaze, sweeping over your figure like a predator measuring up the prey. Stunned into silence by the sudden tension, you mirrored his look and allowed yourself a self-indulgent stare, appreciating what the universe gave you in the form of your boyfriend. And his godly body, as you have more than once noticed. Finally, Neil took a step closer. You watched in fascination as his fingers danced along your collarbones and over the skin on your shoulders, taking additional time to brush the fingertips over the forming bruises on your neck. The distant look, telling you it was an open admiration of his work. A shiver ran up your spine, the anticipation of whatever might happen almost stifling.
“All that talk made me a little hungry” the remark made you look up, straight into the marvellous blue eyes.
Confirming the words, Neil slowly licked his lips, hand toying with the end of your towel tucked in to keep it fixed. With heart racing in your chest, you made sure to throw a suggestive glance at his body before asking:
“Only a little?” the dose of provocative tone to make sure he would be within your control.
Because the level of arousal on his side was startling. Impressive, too.Your mouth watered at the sight, thighs clenching tighter together to somehow ease the ache pulsing between your legs. At once, you wanted him to ditch the games and take you this moment, and to wait, to extend the fascinating duel of passion.
Neil gave you no time to consider which one was more tempting, for he used your moment of reverie to tug at the towel to unravel it in one move.
“A lot” the answer perfecting the move with precision.
Fuck. Next thing you knew, you were sat on the towel, naked once more with no way of hiding from him and his look of starvation. Neil closed the remaining gap, blocking your escape and caging you between his arms, palms resting on either side. One last long look as if judging the best course of action before he parted your knees by inserting a leg between your thighs. A hand delving in the newly opened space, drawing out a sigh from your lips as you stared in complete fascination, frozen with the thrill of curiosity and need running through your veins. The pulsating core dripping with desire for him, shame missing from the equation when Neil finally gave in to the pull and slipped a finger between your folds. You knew how bad it was from the single look at his face. The determination slipping for a split second to give way to surprise, a short gasp soon replaced with the smirk worthy of the Lucifer himself. The daring finger parting your inner lips in a teasing move before he raised the hand to his lips, never taking the gaze of you:
“You’re still soaking wet for me,” a remark thrown with something close to mockery.
A flash of anger burning in your chest; mouth opening to prepare a retort. Only to freeze once more when Neil grinned, the hand glistening with the signs of your disgrace licked clean, mirroring your brave actions from not that long ago. Double fuck. A groan, interrupting the train of thought, that spark of irritation helping you to gain back the momentum. A look down his body offering the needed cue:
“Says you” raising one eyebrow, you reached out to repeat the lazy strokes from before.
The deepening darkness in his eyes luring you in, tempting you to push him further than ever before. If only to find out what he is like without any restraints. Without care or apprehension. Only the animalistic lust and craving left. Noticing the familiar hungry glow, you increased the intensity of your moves, smile widening when he let out a frustrated growl and slapped your hands away. In a flash, Neil wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your bodies flush against each other.
“Careful, or I might-” his voice lowered to a whisper, the husky tone reverberating through your chest.
It was the unspoken threat and the way it felt when he pressed against your navel that made you take up the initiative. Leaning back enough to catch his eye, you interrupted the sentence:
“What?” a challenging smirk to irk him further; your legs wrapped around his waist “Destroy me. Fuck me senseless” completing the request by rubbing over him openly, showing the extent of need “Wrap that hand around my neck and take what’s yours” the addition breathed out with the scarlet tint on your cheeks.
Neil let out a whine as you pressed up against him, lacing your hands on the nape of his neck to get better leverage. He hesitated for a split second, hips already responding to your teasing with fleeting twitches. Somehow you knew what was missing. Leaning back, you tilted his chin to lock the gazes. Depths of lust enveloping your mirroring looks.
“Please,” the word dropped in between your lips, separated by a breath of space.
The trigger.
You could barely perceive his actions. The bottom lip caught between his teeth, a forceful thrust eliciting a sharp cry from your throat. Gentleness was left behind as he filled you up in one single move, stretching out your walls and making you gasp. Searching for something to hold on to, you grasped the edges of the desk, helpless gaze locked on his dark eyes without a break. Neil slightly shifted, one hand travelling up your chest to wrap loosely around your neck. Exactly as you asked. The other palm, pulling you closer around the waist, finding the needed grip. A shudder coursing through your body, the core clenching around him in the most basic of reflexes. An irked sigh escaping through your lips was all he needed to begin.
No kissing or hesitation, just the rough rhythm, delving deep into your centre with each thrust, hitting the perfect spot without tenderness. Each move complemented by your moan, pleasure flooding in, making you forget about everything that was not Neil. His gaze was fixed on you, watching with visible fascination how his tip disappeared between your folds with every thrust. The chokehold, tightening a little, increasing the frenzy, and hazing your mind with need. Only once you got used to the set tempo could you shift the position, placing your hands on his biceps. Digging in the nails to show how well that was working. Increasing the intensity of his moves, Neil groaned, his hand tightened over your neck. A clear signal to let you know who is in control. Obedience. Only, you were not that keen on compliance.
With sweat trailing down your body and your arousal wetting the conveniently placed towel, you decided to reach out for more. An assessing look, taking in Neil’s widened pupils and the startling resolve painted on his face. The clenched jaw, highlighting the sharp angles. Split lip from how he bit into it, drawing out blood. Unable to take your gaze off from his mouth, you used the second of hesitation to get closer and crash your lips into his in a hard kiss. Neil gasped, surprised by the shift, opening his mouth underneath your prodding tongue in an instant. Syncing up the way your lips glided over each other with his thrusts, you used the opportunity to gain back the lead. Meeting him halfway, relishing in the groans he let out against your mouth. And then, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks, still damp from the shower, and leaning in to whisper into his ear:
“Harder,” the word dropped with certainty.
A further act of temptation. To see what Neil would be capable of if you drove him to the edge.
You did not have to wait long to find out. Tightening the chokehold, he sped up the movements, delving into you with a force that was ripping cries from your lips. The lascivious sounds filled the room, moans, and gasps interrupting the tempo. Soon it was nothing but the eruption of pleasure every time he hit the spot, making you rake your fingernails over his shoulder blades, deepening the marks and bruises. Using the grip you had over his shoulders, you changed the angle, bringing your pelvises together with every thrust. That seemed to be what Neil needed. He groaned, hand shifting from its position on your neck to grasp your chin and force you to lock the gazes. The feral look in his eyes, making you clench your muscles around him, giving in to the waves of feelings coursing through your body. It was that perfect balance between tempting darkness and astonishing want that you found reflected that was the final push you both needed.
Neil’s tempo waned, shuddered breaths coming out through the parted lips, watching you closely as if the ecstasy written all over your face was a drug he could not get enough of. A string of curses replacing the silence with their harsh simplicity. The grip over your waist tightening, fingers digging into your skin, bruises confirming the facts. His. Just as he tensed, moaning your name with the desperate tint to the tone, you captured his lips in a kiss. Hoping to take the edge off, to give him what he needs. Neil responded by biting hard into your lower lip, pleasure exploding before your closed eyes as he came, a shudder running through his body. Cradling you closer, breaking through the roughness and betraying the underlying feelings. Love, want, need.
It was the sensation of having him come inside you and the harsh kiss that did it. You whimpered, his name and love confessions on the tip of your tongue, spilling out in the silence. Hiding face in his neck, you stiffened, the force of the orgasm ripping through the fracture of reality. Nothing but the overwhelming euphoria, darkness underneath your eyelids dotted with stars. Neil’s skin underneath the shaking hands. His warmth enveloping you in the gilded cage of safety. Completeness. As you came to, riding out the high with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, you heard his soothing voice whispering sweet nothings, nuzzling your head. The tender ‘I got you’ and ‘I love you’ filling the quiet moment with reminders about your perfect reality. With a sigh, you slowly unravelled from the embrace; arms still wound around his body to prolong the touch. As your gazes met, the previous darkness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a soft smile and affection pouring out of his blue eyes. Cupping your cheek, Neil whispered the question:
“Alright?” he searched your face as though worried something could be amiss.
Fighting with the breathlessness, you chose to give him a grin first before responding:
“Yeah,” trailing your fingers down his chest, relishing in the peaceful moment, “Christ… You should fuck me like this more often,” the straightforwardness getting out without a hitch.
After what just happened, it was no big surprise. Neil did not seem shocked either his eyes glimmered playfully, as he traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his finger:
“Your wish is my command, darling,” the low murmur complimented with hand tilting your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss.
A slow and gentle one, softening the bruises and cuts, eliciting a contented sigh from your throat. Afterwards, you rested your forehead against his for a split second, soaking in the feelings. After a beat, you finally leaned back, acknowledging the mess on the hotel room floor covered with your clothes. The bathroom door was left ajar with the ventilation running. The towel you sat on, ruined. Wet hair trailing droplets down your naked body, mixing with the layer of sweat. A frown invited itself onto your face.
“I need another shower though… and a nap” yawning, you pushed Neil back to jump off the desk.
Only once you could properly stand, the fatigue caught up, making you sway on your feet. Without a word, Neil reached out a hand to steady you, pulling you into his side for an additional hug. Nothing to complain about even if you wanted.
“I should get you hot and bothered more often” it was the casual remark that made you look up.
Straight into the suspiciously satisfied face of your boyfriend. Surely not… right?
“… was that the plan all along?” schooling your features, you chose to ask the simplest of questions.
Neil shrugged, the trademark smirk gracing his features.
Bastard. Stepping away from him, you snatched the towel and hastily wrapped it around your body. If only as a retaliation. Because dragging you out to wander in the bloody scorching sun was a low blow. …even if it just gave you one of the best sex experiences in your life. Maybe. Perhaps.
“I hate you,” you hissed before storming over the pile of clothes to the bathroom.
“Uh-huh,” you refused to give him the pleasure of turning around at the sound.
Bastard. Squared.
#tenet#neil tenet#neil x reader#neil tenet x reader#neil tenet fanfic#neil tenet imagine#tenet fanfic#robert pattinson
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Another beautiful day outside and I'm starting to feel bad again. The sun, blue sky, song of the birds and giggles from kid waken in me something so dark, so bloody...
Is it because of the fact that I hate heat? Or because everything is alive but I feel dead? Or does everything beautiful just remind me of you?
I don't know why Im like this. I truly have no idea. Is this all the Universes plan? Should I be destroyed? Why me? Oh how many times have I asked that question and I still couldn't get an answer... why me? Why do I always have to experience pain and tears? I'm certainly not the only on but still, why can't I be full of life, why can't I honestly smile and thank some higher power for being born and being alive and healthy?
Its fascinating to me that I avoid the sun and its warm light, but Still mimic it during the night with light bulbs and other lights. Why do I feel so comfortable and safe in the dark? What is it with the moon that just drags me to it? I clearly am a lunatic. But when I look at it I can still see your laughing face, and when it's windy I still hear your laughter. Why does everything aesthetic remind me of you? And why does it hurt so fucking much?!
I hate today's standards and "rules" for love. Why did we have to be so open and public? Why were your so controlling yet I felt safe? Why did you sent me songs that I can't listen to every again and not think of you? Why why why? I've been trying to talk to as many people I can just to push our chat down somewhere where it can be lost so I done see it "I love you too bye" 3w ago... why are some sentences you said still in my head? Why didn't we try to compromise? Why wasn't i good enough for you? Why can't I delete you, your pics, chats, messages, voice, videos, number... why do i still have you memorised as "future husband"?. Why are you still with me, but I not with you? You blocked me on everything. Pushed me put of your life completely! You started talking to other girls as soon as you would get mad at me because I couldn't read your mind. But I didn't. I was so loyal and for some unknown reason I still am even though I don't have to be. We are just.. perfect strangers now.
And honestly, I'm done saying it's not you, it's me. In reality, it's both of us! And deep inside we're aware of it but don't want to admit it.
It's interesting how a person can make you feel so good and then so bad in a matter of months. You broke me and yet you don't give a single shit about it.
You know what's still funny to me..? We used an app and we both promised each other it's gonna be "our app" aka we wouldn't text anyone else there but... you were last online there on February 14th, 10AM my time ( about 4am yours) and our last messages were on the 5th. So... I'm "happy" to know you're talking to others. Good. Eliminate me fully even tho i know you still think about me. I know I'm still in that one golden corner of your mind.
But it doesn't matter that much anymore anyways. Broken glass can't be put back together anymore. I wish you the very best and I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see you smile and grow.
I love you.
Always have.
Always will.
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i hate grief bc i've wanted to die my whole life and thinking about the person i lost never wanted to make me stay but now that they are the ones who died i'm angry as fuck every day and feel trapped but i know that if it had been me the one to die it would have been ok and i wouldnt even have worried about it/hurting ppl with my death. like every day i do H and get drunk and i dont care about dying you know? but i lost someone and it makes me angry that THEY didnt care. do you get what i mean?
i am really really sorry for your loss. yeah. i know what you mean, at least to an extent. everyone’s grief and suffering is unique to them and the relationship they had with the one who passed, but i can relate so much to being trapped and mad and out of my mind. i think a lot of people can. it seems like so many of us are walking around half disillusioned by this existence and half completely done with it because of the shit we’ve been through. every day i feel a form of anger (most of the time it is cold and numbing) when i think about how my sister died. i have gone round and round in my head about why she did the things she did. because even if it wasn’t fully preventable, it wasn’t cancer or a car crash or anything like that. when i found out what she had in her system. god. i can not explain to you what that moment was like. it fucking choked me. all i remember is i felt my heart beating somewhere in my head, and i was PISSED. i thought i was going to pass out. because it’s like you said - she didn’t care, and that was almost like proof. she went to sleep thinking nothing of anything. mindless. after weeks of lecturing her, after her constant presence in my life, all that time. after years of her fucking around w other drugs and finally finding stability only to slip for less than a month bc of some fucking man, only to lose her entire life to a mistake - it’s inexplicable. i can sit here and write to you about it but i still cant’t fathom it. how she didn’t give a fuck, or she couldn’t see the situation clearly enough to. and now i’m living this forever without her. now i have to take care of my mother alone. now i’ve lost my best friend. and she lost everything. she was a whole person, she would’ve had years left and she deserved to. and the only reason she didn’t is because she couldn’t fuckin accept how much she was worth, how much life was worth so she gambled w death. what i’m saying is i understand that in a way, maybe a selfish way, i don’t know - it almost feels mocking. because we’ll never know if they realize what they’ve done. after she died that’s all i could repeat out loud in the shower. i kept saying: you don’t know what you’ve done. idiot, stupid girl. shit like that. every time i tried to talk to her, it was a lecture. so yeah. it is very very normal to be pissed off and bitter dude. it is not easy or fair to be left behind. it’s all a normal part of grief. losing it entirely is the whole thing because honestly what else can you do.
i could be wrong but. unfortunately i think all of these emotions, in the context of you, stem from the fact that it is easier to care for others than it is to care about yourself. you’re not bothered about yourself dying because you don’t have the same love for yourself that you had for the one who passed. you don’t see yourself as important in that way. i don’t know what happened to make you feel like that. maybe whatever it was lead you to use drugs n alcohol to escape in the first place. maybe you think you not mattering is some sort of universal truth, but it’s not. it’s a belief you constructed either out of pain or as a trauma response that you’ve clung onto so much that you’ve convinced yourself it’s reality. it’s clear you’re going through an insurmountably difficult time, and i know words on a screen aren’t going to change that. i wont pretend to get it first hand. i just want you to know that the same way you wish your friend had realized the worth in their life before it was too late, that same anger born from frustration and sadness - that’s how a lot of people likely feel about you. and i know you don’t care about hurting them w your death because you don’t care about anything. your friend didn’t care, why should you, right? but that’s how the cycle perpetuates. and you’re the one who has to live with this all now, stuck here or not. try to periodically and consciously recognize how fucked up and permanent grief is. you don’t want to be the one to cause it. not really. not when you can see it for what it is and you have the option to prevent it. you are here no matter how much you wish not to be. you do deserve to find substantial peace, stability and good health while you still can. that’s non negotiable. even if it takes a fucking life time getting there.
i completely understand that it is all far easier said than done. that you have to be the one who is willing to reach out for help and to really stick w a plan but. i guess i just hope you know that the option will always be waiting for you when you are willing to seek it out. whether it’s through a hotline, rehab, your doctor, your friends and family, 2 hours without using or drinking. any step in the right direction is commendable. you are absolutely more resilient than you realize. more in general than you realize. you’ve had to deal with so much, just the most unimaginable things, and you’re still here. i know that’s because you feel you have no real choice in the matter, back to being trapped here. but nonetheless you’re making it. you can learn to treat yourself w the same regard that you treated your friend. you can learn to care about what happens to you. you can slowly make a home out of what you currently see as a jail. through talking, through implementing healthier coping mechanisms into your daily life, through building a support system, through confronting and processing how much it hurts, through finding the clarity that comes with progress. all the things your brain wants you to write off. addiction and mental illness are genuine health concerns that require long lasting therapy and treatment just like any other ailment. and maybe the point is to learn to live with them, rather than to cure them entirely. but they are not a death sentence (and that is a good thing), and they are not the entirety of you. you are just currently very overwhelmed by them, understandably so. excuse me if this is all sounds like naïve bullshit, but maybe some day you will be able to take some of it on board if you can’t right now. anyway, it sounds cliche as fuck, but every day that you’re alive you’re keeping your friend’s influence on this world alive too. you were shaped by them, in more ways than you realize. and they’re here in more ways than we realize too. not necessarily ghosts, at least imo. but just around. and in your head, in the universe. i am rooting for you so much and i hope you can accept that even if it all feels like lies, it’s ok to treat yourself w kindness. any attempt is good enough. sending a lot of love your way. please take care of yourself as much as possible. please consider your needs and your well being while you still have the choice to. sorry to go all 90s drug prevention ad on you btw, but u know me. i’m incapable of shutting up and minding my business abt this sort of thing lol
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