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i-will-physically-fight-you · 3 years

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Gibbous Chapter 9

Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill

Summary: It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety

Chapter Word-Count: 5503

Warnings: Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)

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Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.

Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!

In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.

Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.

One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.

Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.

Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.

Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.

Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.

Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.

He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.

His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.

“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”

“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”

“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”

It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.

Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.

The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.

“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”

“Well no but—”

“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”

As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.

Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.

Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.

Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.

A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”

Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.

“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.

“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”

Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.

“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”

“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.

Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.

Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.

His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.

“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”

“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”

Virgil stared at him.

Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”

“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.

He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.

Four New Text Notifications from Patton

Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]

Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??

Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??

Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?

Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.

Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.

But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.

His phone buzzed with a new text notification.

Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?

Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.

Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.

The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.

Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.

This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?

Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.

“Hi?” He whispered.

“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”

Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”

“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”

This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.

Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.

“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.

“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.

“And how did you know I was in here?”

“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”

“O-oh.”

“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”

“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.

He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.

“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”

“Right here, in the restroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”

“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.

“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”

Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.

Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.

“Alright, fine.”

Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.

Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.

Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.

Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”

If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.

And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?

“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.

He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.

Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.

A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.

“Remy—”

“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.

Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”

“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.

“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.

Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.

“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”

“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”

She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”

Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—

He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.

Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.

Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.

He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.

He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.

“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step forward.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What do you mean—”

“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady—Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”

Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”

“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.

Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?

“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?

“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.

“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”

“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”

“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”

“Is what?”

“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.

If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.

“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.

“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.

A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—

Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.

Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.

“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”

Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.

Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.

Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.

Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.

Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress.

Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine

A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #kat writes #werewolf au #long post

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fytheuntamed · 4 years

Note

I used to see WWX as sunshine incarnated and how it hurt me when I realized that it's mostly just fake and he's really not. I thought he was such a genuine person and when I realized that he hides so much of himself that he's not very genuine at all my heart broke a little and I needed to share my feelings. I still love him though, but it was a huge shock to me that everything I initially fell in love with was actually wrong. I hope this little ramble wasn't a bother.

Hello, anon! First off, you’re not bothering me at all; even if I can’t reply to all of them, I read and appreciate every ask I get. I’m sorry to hear you’re feeling a bit disillusioned with WWX; I know some would say he’s just a fictional character, but I think all of us here can attest to the power fictional characters have in impacting the lives of real people. Your ask made me think a lot about who WWX is, so I hope you don’t mind me sharing my own thoughts on the matter! Just a few disclaimers before I get into it: all analysis is based off of drama!WWX, as that is the adaption I know best, so keep this in mind as you read because I know his characterization varies a bit from adaption to adaption. WWX also happens to be my favorite character from the show, so this could will get long :’) I’m also going to continue on with the assumption that you’ve seen the show in its entirety!

I think one of the most important things to understand about people, fictional or real, is that we, like ogres, have layers. This is just what happens when you exist in a world where different settings with different people bring out different sides of us as dictated by societal norms. Does this make someone fake? I would say no, mainly because I think there’s a difference between acting “fake” and being fake. Anytime I speak on the phone with a stranger I automatically assume my “telephone voice,” which sounds quite different from my talking-with-friends-and-family-voice. I don’t leave such phone calls thinking to myself, “wow, I’m such a fake,” because I know that when speaking with strangers, being more polite than I would be around close friends and family is respectful. I think what it comes down to for me is, regardless of how I am presenting myself, am I staying true to my beliefs and values? This is why I think WWX is in fact very genuine, and I would also argue that it is his genuine nature (once revealed) that attracts LWJ to WWX.

Returning to the idea of people having layers, we must recognize that people are not static; we are constantly reacting to our settings and thus our moods fluctuate accordingly. WWX is sunshine incarnate, but he is also someone who has suffered a great deal over the course of his life. To expect him to smile no matter what is a cruel burden to impose on him, and I believe it is a burden he feels in canon. Because both Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu impress upon WWX that he must keep Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng safe, that they are the priority, WWX feels compelled to smile and put on a strong facade so that he doesn’t crumble and fall apart, thus “failing” his adoptive parents and siblings. So while these smiles may simply be masks to hide his pain, thus not “real” smiles, they do not make WWX himself fake, but rather (imo) reinforce his genuine nature because his motives are genuine, even if his smiles may not always be.

There are also times when he smiles and acts extremely cocky in front of others, only for this facade to immediately fall away the moment he is alone/out of the public eye. One of my favorite examples of this is in episode 26 when he questions Jin Zixun about the whereabouts of Wen Ning. The entire time he is there, he exudes a cocky disregard for formality and the established hierarchy, even going so far as to say, “If I, Wei Wuxian, want to kill someone, who can stop me? Who would dare to stop me?!” Once he has the information he needs and turns to leave, however, we immediately see the cockiness fall from his face to be replaced by one of...remorse? I’ll let you guys decide for yourselves.

[gif credit]

I think it is worth noting that his facade fades once he looks at LWJ, because LWJ is one of the few people at this point in time who WWX respects, and whose opinion of WWX still holds value to WWX. And so again we see that WWX’s outward behavior does not seem to align with his inner feelings. Look at the situation that WWX is in, though. He is just one man, albeit a powerful one, going against the biggest, most powerful clans. If he shows an ounce of weakness, they’ll eat him alive. And so in order to stay true to his beliefs, WWX puts on a show. In episode 25 we also see WWX put on a show of shooting many arrows simultaneously while blindfolded. @cal3ris made an excellent post on here stating that WWX was not just doing this to show off, but that he was ensuring the temporary safety of the Wen prisoners by pulling off such a feat so as to ensure no other cultivator would attempt the challenge after him. In situations such as this one, it works in WWX’s favor that the vast majority of the cultivation world believes him to be nothing but a showoff with a big mouth. And of course, there is a part of WWX that does enjoy being in the spotlight! Especially if someone he wants to impress is watching~

At the beginning of the Gusu days flashback (ep 3), we see WWX before everything goes to hell. He’s constantly smiling, goofing around, and is a genuine gremlin of a lad. This is real! He’s a teenager in the flush of his youth, he’s with his beloved siblings, he’s smart and talented, the list goes on and on. For people who don’t know WWX, he comes off as a shallow person with no real depth who thinks of nothing but goofing around all day. For those who know WWX intimately, like Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng (though he’s less vocal about it), they know this is not the case. The point is, WWX doesn’t care what people think about him. He doesn’t care because he knows who he is and what he stands for. This is a huge part of who WWX is as a person: “I don’t care if they slander me, as long as I have a clear conscience.” It is also one of the defining things that connect Wangxian to one another, which brings me to the point of LWJ being someone whom WWX hates to deceive, because he greatly values LWJ’s good opinion of him. We see how much it pains WWX to put distance between himself and LWJ, but we also see that WWX is willing to do so if he believes it is for the best. In episode 20, after being reunited with Jiang Cheng and LWJ, we see WWX purposefully push LWJ away with cold precision. Once more he plays his role with practiced ease, but we see his mask fall as he watches LWJ walk away.

WWX goes from this:

[gif credit]

to this as soon as LWJ isn’t looking at him:

[gif credit]

Having just returned from the Burial Mounds, WWX is very unstable, both physically and mentally. For the past months that he’s spent in the Burial Mounds, survival has been his priority. We see this instability and the signs of PTSD manifest quite a bit throughout the Sunshot episodes. In episode 20 Jiang Cheng hugs WWX, who honestly seems at a loss as to how to respond. In episode 20 we see LWJ step towards WWX, who immediately steps back. We also see WWX shrink away from Nie Huaisang’s touch. This is incredibly telling because WWX is someone who likes physical touch and proximity. He’s constantly putting his arms around Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang and constantly puts himself in LWJ’s personal space (much to LWJ’s initial chagrin). I believe WWX’s behavior post Burial Mounds comes from a desire to protect himself from those around him as well as those around him from himself. [apt gifset here] Nothing about this WWX is fake to me. He is acting differently here because he is different. Trauma does not define a person, but it does change a person. Post Burial Mounds WWX is a different person, but he has not lost what makes him him, which is his strong commitment to his beliefs and morals. For WWX during this time, I don’t believe he has the emotional strength to relive his trauma to those closest to him, so he settles for brushing them off with excuses and yes, fake smiles. This also ties into WWX’s habit of internalizing his own struggles so as not to burden those around him. Hopefully at this point a clear pattern has revealed itself: no matter how WWX presents himself on the outside, he never compromises his beliefs.

After being resurrected in Mo Xuanyu’s body, we see a WWX who is far more reminiscent of the carefree teenager back in Gusu. We see WWX slowly heal from the traumas of his past life and we see him begin to smile again, not because he needs to, but because he can’t help it. We might be tempted to look at this WWX and think, “ah, this is the real him,” but I think this does a disservice to the complexity of his character. The point is, it’s all WWX. The pranks, the smiles that crinkle the corners of his eyes, the creativity, the cockiness, the way his laughter bursts out of his body at times and at other times comes out like a sigh or an afterthought, the way he looks out for the juniors, and both his quiet and loud rage are all what makes him who he is. Certain aspects may be muted at times, but that’s to be expected. WWX is by no means perfect, but I would say he is painfully genuine. Just think, would LWJ feel so strongly about him if he weren’t?

As I feared, this got way too long and I probably rambled and repeated myself and got off track, but it’s fine…..

#the untamed #wwx #wei wuxian #wei ying #ask #anon #Anonymous #does this count as meta? pretty sure it's just me blabbing about how valid wwx is lmao #also DUDE why is tumblr putting the read more in the ask and not where i want it???

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kehideni · 3 years

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I think it’s time i rant why i ship the Commander with Caithe.

And not specifically MY commander, but the general commander character. (which is why i don’t care that my Commander happens to be male)

I don’t even know where to start... i guess for clarifications:

I personally don’t feel either way for Caithe. I guess i like her but she wouldn’t be on my top 10-20 favourit character list.

When i first played Guild Wars 2(yes my main character is my first ever character) i played through with the mindset that i am this charr and i will make the choices that i think will save the most lives(lel.... later on i learned it didn’t matter). So when i plowed through the personal story of the Commander i was in the mindset of “I AM A CHARR!!! AND IN THIS WORLD OF CONSTANT BATTLE I AM THE DEADLIEST WEAPON OF ALL!” (also mild Denalien influence but Denalien is intertvined with my being so... let’s not go into that)

I LOVED that Rytlock was badass and unflinching and angry i guess in simpler way: Charr = GW2′s version of orks(WoW) which means Rytlock = Thrall but actually badass.

By pure coincidence i made the choices that made me meet with mainly charr characters and it made me believe it’s because i chose charr that i meet charr. Later on i learned that... no... i just chose the paths that made me meet charr.

Queue in the story instances from 10 to 80, and past-kehideni notices a pattern. Rytlock is not the one that your character connects to the most.

I know, the letters you get are all from Rytlock when you are a charr, but the one other person Arenanet pushes your Commander to connect with is- you guessed it- Caithe.

Twilight Arbor- now you would argue Rytlock Logan and Caithe but Rytlock leaves before you start fighting any nightmare court and Logan after just a bunch of spiders. Canonically, it’s just the Commander and Caithe. Nothing actually that i’d noticed when playing through because the Commander only asks questions from Caithe that i’d want to know anyway. However this instance literally has established a connection between the two that later on gets referenced in a throwaway speechline with someone you’ll be surprised by. We’ll get to that.

Sorrow’s Embrace- Eir, Zojja and Caithe: the Commander asks Caithe for information (of course, who else. Not like they can ask Zojja at that moment, but these are all just starting off things)

Honor of the Waves- Eir and Caithe: the Commander tells Caithe to shut up and let Eir come to the right conclusion herself which makes me laugh to this day xD (This is where my personal meme comes from “Shut up, Kyle Caithe!”)

Ruined city of Arah- the Commander sasses Caithe. Basically in the story instances the Commander and Caithe work towards the same goal, to reunite Destiny’s Edge.

Things happen in the between though: There is this quest where Trahearne and the Commander enter a vision of the Pale Tree. In there, the Pale Tree tells the Commander that they MUST reunite Destiny’s Edge and this is where Twilight Arbor greets back a bit.

When you walk past the members you hear them talk to each other, blame each other.

Caithe however stands out because she isn’t talking with one of her friends, she talks to Faolain. The crazy part is that in this vision you are not supposed to AND can’t talk to any vision-npc.... that is except for Faolain herself. But let’s see what happened beforehand:

Narratively speaking when a character says they are alone and tired, it’s supposed to elicit protectiveness from the viewer and/or empathy.

“So here i am a bulky a** charr, why is her love life any of my buisness?” - very emotional quote from kehideni of the past

Aaaaaha... sure whatever you say Trahearne, but wait.. because here comes the kicker. The ACTUAL kicker where past-kehideni went

“Wait jus- hold on just a minute here...”

Faolain that was awfully possessive of you, i’m a big a** charr. What competition would i be in this future-vision to you? And then the Commander says “I won’t let Caithe fall into nightmare.”

A little bit of extra:

“Pft... whatever... you’re just her ex.” says the Commander. :v

In Arah Caithe thanks you for saving Destiny’s Edge (also interestingly she is the chosen companion npc as she’s the one that resses you if you get downed) and at the end of the fight she says that all of Tyria is in the Commander’s debt. Ok ... casual stuff. She’s been thanking the Commander left and right that day. As if she didn’t drive home the fact that she’s grateful she thanks the Commander once again at the end party and also is the one to suggest the Commander should go after the rest of the Elder Dragons too.

The next you meet her is the Aetherblade path in Twilight Arbor, the narrative distances Caithe from the Commander. By this time canonically they are friends, duh. So it’s like a friend has a side the Comm didn’t know so far. Nothing interesting yet, let’s hurry on.

She attends the summit, of course she does. You can’t talk with her.

In Echoes of the Past Comm saves her, their talk is still friendly but distanced. I do want to note that Canach and Caithe are so similar in attitude xD

Tangled Paths: Comm goes up to her to talk and she says “don’t mind me” and proceeds to follow you around and friendly-mocks you as “boss”. We know NOW why, but not back then. This is important because not long before this i realised that the Comm can’t possibly be me. It’s MassEffect’s case of Commander Shepard. You controll them but they are their own character and your choices have only slight weight in the story because the Commanders’ choices are already set in stone by the actual writers. What you CAN do is write the WHY parts, and this is soon the part where my writing interferes with actual canon but you’ll see my reasonings.

When the Comm talks with Caithe she’s the most civil with them among their allies. (We later learn it was to keep the Comm. in the dark.)

The beauty of this scene is that Caithe WILL learn why a mother can’t keep their eyes off of their children.

“Is that a problem?” “Not for me.” Still can take this line as civil but kinda funny line in hindsight. (Get it? Because it will be a problem for them.)

So Caithe’s betrayal happens, and the Comm is FURIOUS!

Lol my charr is too tall, but the shot was meant to place the Comm face to face with Caithe because in the next shot she looks them in the eye and goes for the egg.

When Marjory notes that Caithe is a Sylvari the Comm goes defensive “So? What are you trying to say?” Their friend would never do that- is what narratively they want to convey, but later on in HoT the Comm reacts so harshly to her betrayal i took the wheel a bit.

I mean let’s add up what the Comm knows: Mordremoth created the sylvari, he has mental access to them, he can mind controll them, fool them if they are too strongwilled to do his bidding. Caithe is a sylvari with a strong will. If she betrayed them it’s not of her free mind. It’s like the victim-blaming when a girl gets drugged and they take her body to do as they please. Try as she might she wasn’t clear in the head but she made it clear later on that she didn’t want to betray the Comm. Why would she after all she can be thankful for to the Comm?

So what gives? Well in my mind, the only way to rectify Anet’s nonsense writing(they should really stop reading GW2 reddit forums, not a good place to be influenced with) is to give the Comm a reason to take it to heart a bit too much, say... if they were harboring feelings for her. In my mind it adds up.

So HoT happens, and Caudecus is making his move.

Where next you meet Caithe: Out of the Shadows. (fitting title for her, huh?)

I’m just gonna link the video with timestamp, that whole part is reconciling:

https://youtu.be/AABguDwhieE?t=2612

At this point the writing of GW2 seems to take a chillpill so i go with the flow. The Comm realising that he overreacted inspects himself: Why? This is the part the Comm realises that “oh sheet, they got them feels.”

Aurene hatches, Caithe is there.

The first time the Comm is voiced in LW and he jokes around with a character it’s with Caithe.

Comm: “I’d feel better if someone i knew was watching the chamber.”

Caithe fishing for the one line that would reassure her that the Comm talking with her actually means that they are ok with her now: “Someone you trust?”

Comm: “Yeah, so... could you ask Taimi to get her right away?”

Caithe relieved her relationship with Comm is safe: “You’re joking with me, i take that as a good sign.” They talk around a bit more, they are healing and that’s adorable.

Later on she thanks the Comm for letting her prove herself to them by looking out for Aurene.

Path of Fire happens, she’s like throwaway-ly mentioned by Taimi.

I was all, “Well, goodbye Caithe you got Zojja’d, it was a good headcannon while it lasted” but THENNNNNNN ARENANET THROWS ME THIS

Like... are you fkin’ kidding me. This line alone means that she’s been stalking the Commander IN STEALTH ATLEAST since they met Zafirah in Sun’s Refuge!!! THE BARE MINIMUM SHE SAW FROM STEALTH WAS THE COMM GOING IN ON A SUICIDE MISSION, HOW ABOUT SOME HELP YOU CONNIVING VEGETAB- sorry... my personal annoyance at her came out.

Back to story, after this All or Nothing happens where the Comm and Caithe are confirmed parents of Aurene. When Aurene branded Caithe only the Comm asked if she was still herself, not even Rytlock nor Logan, the actual two people who know her longest. The Comm and Caithe are constantly paralleled next to Aurene as her “champions” because dragons apparently don’t have parental bonds*sarcasm* :V

Requiem happens and Rytlock himself says he sees it now. Coincidentally as of writing this he is going through the very same trauma Caithe and Comm went through when Aurene died.

Caithe calls for Comm to return to her because she needs them, and the Comm tells everyone they should go and spend whatever time they have with people they love. Implying that Aurene is who Comm loves but then again Caithe is there too. The 3 of them were going to spend the last of their lives with each other. (not saying they don’t love the rest of the group, but had they decided to leave, the 3 would still stay together.)

As from War Eternal to till now their co-parental connection is getting stronger.

#guild wars 2 #Caithe #The Commander #sylvari #charr

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luna--reading · 5 years

Text

[PICK A CARD] - SINGLES LOVE: How to find love

Hello lovelies~ ♡

This is a pick a card reading for “How to find love” – mainly targeted at singles. I picked a total of 5 cards (might have more for some pile) for this reading and some oracle cards.

Do take what resonates because this is after all a general reading so it can’t possibly resonate with everyone. If you’d like a more personalised reading, do DM me as I’m currently doing free reading (as I’m still in the process of learning).

So take a few minutes to mediate on these 4 piles:

Six of wands

Three of pentacles

Page of pentacles

Nine of swords

Once you’re ready, just scroll below to find the reading that you have chosen!

You can always leave a comment or simply like the post if it resonates with you, thank you so much~ ♡♡♡

Pile 1:

Currently, you are represented as the King of Cups – so you are in control of your emotions. You are very emotionally balanced and at the same time, you have so much love to give. However, this also came with the Queen of Swords which meant that your situation or even the people around can be very critical of you. Despite having this much love to give, you find it hard to do so, because you are currently in a situation whereby others seem very dominating over you and that you are surrounded by negativity or toxicity. For others, it could be that there is someone who is very cold-hearted around you and is undermining your emotions which lead you to keep all of these emotions to yourself. So, the behavioural patterns that are affecting your love life could be the fact that you might be immature at times when it comes to love and that you might be seen as irresponsible with the Page of Pentacles (reversed). Now, the Page of Swords (reversed) is here to tell you that you need to improve on your communication skills in order for you to find love. And that maybe, you have to let go of certain boundaries that you are putting up because it could mean that you are withholding a lot of information to yourself which is not helping you in finding love. So, let go of your defences and improve on your communication skills. Now, one thing you have to change is probably your mindset – you are currently stuck in the thought that you are probably going to stay single for life and that you are not going to find any love partner and this is affecting your energy in general. Three of Pentacles (reversed) talks about your lack of growth and motivation in this journey of finding love and that it is hindering you. Lastly, free yourself from the obsession of trying to plan for your future. It’s not a bad thing to plan for your future because it shows that you are mature enough to take on a relationship, but you might be too fixated on it, that you are ignoring so many other factors out there. The Two of Wands shows that you are constantly stuck in the state of having to make choices after choices that love never comes up as one of your choices at the end of the day.

Messages from the universe:

Thank you, Universe for helping me see beyond the limits of fear. Thank you for expanding my perceptions so I can see what is of the highest good. The moment I realign with love, clear direction is presented to me. When I’m in alignment with the love of the universe, peace cannot be disrupted. Understand that it is alright to plan for your future, but trust that there are bigger things out there that the universe has in plan for you and trust in the universe as you start on your journey in seeking love. Once you align yourself with the plans that the universe has for you, that’s when everything will slowly start to fall in place.

Messages from the fairies

WINTER and GET SOME EXERCISE – Your wish will be granted during the winter season (probably in December) and that while you wait and manifest this love, do some work out and put yourself in a great shape as you feel stronger in all ways (physically, mentally, emotionally)

Pile 2:

You are represented as The Fool (reversed) which means that you are currently stuck in this situation that you are unwilling to take a step forward or that there is this new beginning offer that you are unwilling to take. You might have went through a heartache and it affected you so badly that you decide to shun yourself off from relationships and I see that there might be an offer that is given to you but you are very hesitant to take that leap of faith, in fear that history might repeat itself. Now, you are a very independent person as shown by the Nine of Pentacles but your independence might come off as too strong which might scare off potential partners. Your independence is running high, that you are so used to being in your “single” energy that you are just telling potential partners that “I don’t need a partner, I’m fine being all by myself” which I can totally understand, seeing how you are represented as The Fool (reversed). Now, the King of Pentacles (reversed) is here to remind you that you have to work hard for the stability and security that you seek in a relationship. You tend to get jealous very easily which affects your relationship with your partner and it creates this distance between the two of you and that is something you have to improve on. Eight of Cups (reversed) is reminding you that if you are feeling very unhappy in a relationship, don’t be afraid to speak out your thoughts and if things aren’t working out, don’t hesitate to put your own happiness first, instead of your partner. Now, I see you as someone who devotes all your time, effort, love into your partner that when problems arise, you tend to put it all onto yourself and not speaking up, which is clearly stated as the King of Pentacles (reversed) – that you might get jealous easily but you don’t voice out, suppressing the emotions and even when those emotions are build up and is waiting to explode, you don’t seem to put yourself first and you just want your partner to be happy. Relationships take two to work together, so it’s not just a matter of you putting in the effort which could have resulted in your heartache the last time. Understand that there are some things that you just have to let go, and change the ways that you deal with such situation. Now, liberate yourself from all of these stress and anxiety. Take a break, release yourself from any heartache and just start healing yourself. The past is the past and you are still hung up in that energy which is inevitable but understand that there are some things you’ve got to let go, in order to bring in new energy.

Messages from the universe:

I witness the darkness and call on the light with my prayer. Thank you, Universe, for guiding me to perceive this fear through the eyes of the teacher of love. Attack, pain, fear, judgement, and any form of separation are merely calls for help. Oneness is my true nature.

Understand that there are some pain you have to go through as part of your life lessons but with love, you are able to overcome any obstacles. Believe that you are able to get yourself together and be one with your spiritual mind.

Messages from the fairies:

VEGETARIAN and ADMIT YOUR TRUE FEELINGS TO YOURSELF – As you detoxify yourself from past negativity, look within yourself and listen to your own intuition. Trust that the universe has plans for you as you let go of any toxic situations and that this time, you can trust your own feelings that everything will turn out to be alright.

Pile 3:

You are represented as the Knight of Cups (reversed) which meant that you are feeling this loss of not being able to make that offer to someone that means a lot to you, as represented as The Star. It could also mean that you are procrastinating or avoiding to make that decision as you are feeling hopeful about a situation that you are in currently. The Ten of Wands (reversed) could mean that you tend to give up very easily which results in you unable to gain that harmony and love that you want in relationship, as seen from the Two of Cups (reversed). This is further clarified by the Five of Cups as you tend to only see the negative/loss in a particular relationship or potential relationship that you don’t focus on the good side. Now, there are a lot of unhealthy obsessions/thoughts that might be plaguing you right now, and the Shadow Side/Devil is advising you to improve on it. These thoughts are not good for this relationship and is hindering your journey in finding love. The Shadow Side (in this deck) shows that you are willing to face the devil and look towards the light, the bright side which is something you can further improve and work on as you embark on this journey of love. Now, the Queen of Pentacles is here to tell you that you should always take things slow, you tend to dive into things too quickly and it messes things up. Because the Queen of Pentacles is a very grounded, stable energy that it is calling for you to be slow and steady. The Hermit (reversed) is suggesting that you’ve been feeling lonely for a very long time and it is time to liberate yourself and trust that it is time for you to accept the love that is coming in your way. This is clarified by the Six of Pentacles (reversed) which shows me that you might have been taken advantaged of in the past because of your generosity when it comes to love and you are afraid of being take advantaged of this time. I pulled the King of Cups as the clarifier and indeed, you are so filled with deep emotions that you are so loving, people tend to take this loving energy for granted and simply make use of you in that sense.

Messages from the Universe:

I am the dreamer of my dream. In every moment, the Universe is conspiring to bring me toward right-minded thinking and the energy of love. When I lean toward love, I am led. When I focus on my inner light, I see the world through the lens of love.

Indeed, when you trust the Universe is working in your favours, you are able to see that love is able to overcome anything. Don’t be afraid to love and trust that as you focus on yourself, the Universe is here to bring love into your life and you will be able to manifest your dreams in the end.

Messages from the fairies:

YOU’VE GOT THE POWER and WHOM DO YOU NEED TO FORGIVE? – There are still certain resentments to be let go of or healing to be done, but I see you in the process of healing already and trust that you have the abilities to manifest all of your dreams and wishes after you let go of certain resentments as well as heal yourself. Have faith in yourself that you are able to get through this journey and gain the love of your life.

Pile 4:

You are represented as the Five of Swords (reversed) which meant that you are currently or have already ended a relationship (which is quite recent). Now, the Tower (reversed) might show that sometimes, even when cracks in the relationship are obvious, you tend to avoid and ignore it. The Tower (reversed) means that you are resisting this change and that you just don’t want to see it because you are afraid of letting go of certain relationships but understand that the Tower moment is inevitable and it will eventually crumble because the foundation itself is weak. However, with this crumble, it will only mean a start of a more stable foundation as you build on new relationships (or even past relationships). Now, things to improve on in your love life is to build on your emotions and compassion. You might tend to keep emotions to yourself and this is holding you back in your love life as your partner might not feel the love from you. Understand that with the Ace of Cups as something you need to change, it just means that you have to show your abundance of emotions you have for your partner. The cup is overflowing with love but you are not showing it to your partner which could have played a huge role in the end of your past relationships. Ace of Pentacles is here to ask you to liberate yourself from the constant thought of wanting to have a new beginning in terms of your career or financial wise. You are hoping to make this offer of have this offer that you are not seeing any other things other than materialistic items. Free yourself from having this obsessive thought of needing to build on a stable career before you can find love – it’s not saying you can’t build on your career first, but you are so fixated on this constant new beginning that you are totally putting off other things.

Messages from the Universe:

The universe works fast when I’m having fun. My vibes speak louder than my words. I surrender to a power greater than me.

Understand that there are certain warning signs/red flags that you have to take note of in relationships and that relationships should not make you feel drained and tired all the time. In fact, in the opposite manner, you should always have fun in your relationships.

Messages from the fairies:

PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE, YOUR DESIRE IS WITHIN YOUR REACH and TRAVEL – You might find new love when you travel or you might clear your thoughts after you come back from your trip, such as knowing that there are certain things that you should let go of control of. It’s not easy to let go of things as we say, and it takes constant practice, but just know that as long as you smooth out certain rough edges in your love life now, have faith and everything will work in your favour.

#pickacard #Pick A Card #tarotreading #Tarot #tarot reading #tarot reading love #Free Tarot #Free Reading Love #Love

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sheusedtobesassier · 4 years

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Day 10,402

Approximately two months ago I sent you a calm and collected message in which I asked seven questions about our break up. I made sure to say, “Write back whenever you feel the urge and if you never experience that urge then wow please don’t reply that’s fine. I know I need to ask, but it’s okay if you do not need to answer.” I really meant that.

You wrote me back six days later, but without answers. A polite message letting me know you were going to respond eventually. That was 2 months, 2 days, 22 hours, and some odd minutes ago. In my heart of hearts, I don’t believe you will ever send me your answers. The process would take some degree of emotional effort and truthfully I think it doesn’t matter enough to you. And that’s really really really really okay. It has to be.

I am going to answer the questions tonight. Not for you to read, but for me to write. I’ve got a glass of decent Pinot Grigio. I just heard some thunder rumbling. I think I read somewhere that there’s a full moon up there tonight. So. That all lines up for expression.

(I’m not going to include the actual questions in this post because goddamn I love to come off as elusive. I have them and you have them. Anybody else’s guess is good enough.)

1. Limit of four because limits help. You were my buddy so instead of being usually on my own I got to be usually with you. You knew how to be a steady force when I needed space to not be one. You usually felt/saw/reacted/thought differently than everybody else in the room, including me. You deliberately accessed me in ways I’d begun to believe nobody could or would ever want to.

2. Limit of four because limits help. It was extremely hard to be next to you when you were making it obvious you wanted so badly to be elsewhere. I didn’t ever laugh as hard as you like to laugh and it didn’t matter to you what I thought about music. It felt like it was always going to suck that I was a white girl. I think the shine wore off, like I think you’d lost a lot of respect for me by the end.

3. I mean. I think a few months into being officially together we were having a difficult conversation about how you were 90% sure you were going to leave camp soon. It came up that we didn’t really believe in the concept of long distance relationships. That neither of us were that kind of person. How ultimately that would be just a slower more painful break up. And like. Idk. Tbh this question is hard for me to answer and I really wish you would. That’d help me out a ton. When people ask me why we broke up I make vague jokes around it and I’m pretty sure I sound stupid as fuck.

4. Okay. Work hit a rough season financially and it put you it a bad spot. We went on a cold air walk one afternoon and you told me you were going to talk seriously to an Illinois buddy about possibly moving in with him. After that we went to the Moyers for dinner and you pulled Bill aside to speak privately. As I was falling asleep that night I asked what you’d talked about and you said, “I told him I am leaving.” I was caught totally off guard because you had not said those words to me yet. The conversation didn’t go further. I attempted to hide that I was crying and you said goodnight and left. Then for about three days you cut yourself off from the world completely. Hid out. Others started asking me what the heck was going on and I didn’t have an answer. I was subtle crying almost constantly lol, so I finally txted you and asked if we needed to talk. We acknowledged that the conversation we were about to have would require bravery. I asked my boss for some time off work and got it. Um. This is when it all gets pretty confusing for me. Looking back now I think at this point you already knew we were going to break up and were even possibly trying to do it haha, but uh. I didn’t realize your mind was made up. Which. To be fair to me, you did not communicate with me how far gone you were. So. I assumed we were still in the midst of a difficult decision making process. Perhaps I should have asked more questions than I did. But. Um. We spent like the next four days together and they were borderline perfect? Which. Lol whatever I don’t want to write about them. I want you to tell me what the fuck was going on there because I think the way you were looking at our last week together was 1000% different from whatever the hell I was perceiving. I was in a honey colored daze. I’m sorry if that time was low key tortuous for you. I truly did not understand what was happening. Um. We took each others clothes off on a Friday evening and afterwards I was laughing and realized you weren’t laughing. You were blank. Staring hard at nothing. I softly asked what was wrong and you said you had to call your friend and give him a final answer. And um. And I had to say the words, “And? You’re upset? Because? You’re going to tell him yes?” Um. All this is a blur. I don’t remember saying much else. I got dressed and began putting on make up, getting ready to go watch a children's musical with friends. You stood at the door watching me a while then left. Um I cried uncontrollably on the drive into town, through the whole damn elementary school production of Annie, and the ride back. When I got home I sent you a txt saying, “If you need things before you go or have things you need to express then please let me know and we can do that.” along with some other sad content. I didn’t hear back so then at midnight I txted you a comforting I love you message and you sent a comforting I love you message back. I fell asleep worrying about you. Mm. And then. Whatever I’m not going to write in detail about it, but you very abruptly left first thing the next morning and from that point on (THOUGH WE’VE NEVER HAD THE FUCKING CONVERSATION) we have been not together. Next question.

5. Okay. I got way too specific on that last one and would like to not make a pattern of that. Sorry. So. For this one. For me. Afterwards I went dark. I went through very ugly withdrawal. I guess I can’t really write about then. Um. I waited for weeks to hear from you and heard nothing. I read everything about our star signs and I listened to the break up playlist I’d been fucked up prepping throughout basically our entire relationship. I watched ALL the Marvel movies and I drank a lot a lot so much I just wanted to drink. I couldn’t fucking sleep ever and when I did I had cruel dreams about you. When we finally did start writing to each other I got really really really really emotionally messy. Paragraphs and then more paragraphs. DRAMATIC TAKE AFTER DRAMATIC TAKE. I didn’t call you and you didn’t call me. But I bothered you and I bothered you and I bothered you. You hardly ever seemed interested in talking to me. You’d give a little and I’d gross myself out at how desperate I was for more. You were polite and you didn’t want to talk to me. Yeah okay that’s the simplest way to describe what afterwards was like for me. I was in love with someone who didn’t want to talk to me.

6. Um. Okay. Honestly. Right now when I think of you there are a few common reactions. I think of the dialogue from Liz Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love often. “But I love him.” “So love him.” “But I miss him.” “So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him then drop it.” Usually when you come to mind it’s because of one of hundreds of things that connect to stories I like about us. I’m consistently telling me, “Shut up. Nobody knows how to react when you talk reverently about your ex.” Idk. I use a lot of my 11:11 wishes on your behalf. Like unselfishly. I don’t make them about us getting back together or anything like that. No, just for your happiness/wholeness. I wish for good for you. But maybe now that I’ve typed that here none of them will come true. Sorry.

7. I am not.

#personal

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distant-rose · 5 years

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CS JJ 31: Bundling Against the Cold

Notes: Hi lovelies, it’s been awhile. I’m slowly but surely coming back from the dead. It’s a process. Anyway, hopefully this story will relaunch my productivity for writing. I’ve been sorely lacking in that department. Anyway, this is my submission for @csjanuaryjoy. Apologies for how short it is but I hope you enjoy it anyway. A special thank you to @shireness-says for constantly dealing with my absurdity. Summary: Though life is good at the moment, but for Emma Swan, it hasn’t always been. Trauma tends to form scars in different ways and a coping mechanism of hers comes to light when unloading her possessions from the Bug - an absurdly large mountain of blankets. Word Count: 2,000+ Rating: T

Emma has always had a contentious relationship with winter. Though she’s no longer a lost girl on the streets, she still remembers the cold nights of her teenage years when she wrapped herself in ratty blankets and cardboard, trying to keep the chill from seeping into her bones. The numbness in her fingers and toes, the clattering of her teeth and the fear of possibly dying alone in her sleep has stayed with her and she doubts they will ever leave; tattooed traumas embedded on her heart that no one sees but she’s very much aware of them.

Her fear of the cold is the reason the Bug is full of blankets.

They’re the one item that Emma refuses to leave behind and always buys regardless of the absurd pile up. She has one for every place she’s lived; a fleece throw blanket with a coyote on it from Phoenix, an old patchwork quilt from Albuquerque, a faux fur leopard print from St. Louis and a frayed overused green basketweave throw from Tallahassee. She even has a stained and beaten up Bruins blanket from her stint in Boston despite her distinct lack of interest in the sport.

It’s not until she pulls all of her blankets out to bring them into the house that she realizes just how many she has. It takes three trips between Killian, Henry and herself to get them all in and she’s left with a crooked motley mountain on her coffee table. Her son stares at the giant pile in incredulity. It’s nearly as tall as he is.

“Wow, Mom. What’s with all the blankets?”

Mortification curls down her spine at the question, unwelcome and unwanted. Even though she’s in a better place, the shame of surviving on the streets and sleeping rough stays with you. It’s not a happy chapter in her life and one she certainly doesn’t want to share with her son. She ducks her head so Henry can’t see the embarrassment burning at her cheeks.

“I just don’t like being cold.”

Killian says nothing, but he brushes his pinkie finger gently against hers. She jumps at the contact, but doesn’t pull away, allowing him to interlace their fingers and giving her hand a small squeeze. She welcomes the touch, his palm warm, rough and calloused against hers. She glances in his direction, almost afraid of what she might see.

Instead of jest or judgment, all she sees is understanding.

A heavy nameless emotion embeds itself in her throat and she doesn’t know what to say, how to respond with the proper extent of her gratefulness. She’s never been good with words, not like him. They often weight heavy and clumsy on her tongue. Instead, she opts to return his squeeze with one of her own, hoping that he can somehow understand what she’s feeling through osmosis.

He seems to get the message as a crooked smile crosses his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkle. He places a brief kiss on the crown of her head before turning his attention to Henry and asking him about some new game he’s obsessed with. Emma knows he has zero interest in it. Killian’s eyes glaze over as Henry starts a lecture on the intricacies of Magic: the Gathering but he pretends to listen anyway, herding her son into the kitchen and leaving Emma alone with her pile of blankets. As Killian distracts Henry, Emma tries to find a home for all of her blankets, trying her best to spread them out as far as possible in an absurd attempt to disguise just how many she owns and to keep awkward questions to a minimum.

It isn’t until later when Henry is back with Regina that Killian reveals his own personal horde. She’s sitting on the couch, hot chocolate in hand as she mindlessly watched an episode of Arrested Development when Killian places a massive chest on the coffee table in the exact same stop where the mountain of blankets once stood. Despite its size, it connects with a dull, soft thud. It almost sounds hollow to her.

“What’s this?”

“Well, I guess you can say it’s my version of your blankets,” he responds, opening the chest.

Socks.

Hundreds and hundreds of socks of various different colors and patterns. Some were obviously homemade, rough homespun wool with obvious mistakes in the knitting while others look more contemporary. Emma cannot help but snort as she picked up a pair covered in skulls and crossbones, rubbing her thumb over the material.

“That’s quite the collection.”

“When I was a boy, most sailors didn’t wear shoes on ships. If the weather allowed it, we went barefoot most of the time before soles of shoes became more slick resistant. Your feet have natural better grip on deck and when climbing the rigging. Not to mention, feet are better at drying out than shoes when wet,” he said, wetting his lips.

“Okay, I guess I can understand that, so why the socks if you guys weren’t big on shoes?”

“Because I remember the cold, Swan. At night, I often shared a bunk with my brother and more often than not, the blanket wasn’t enough to cover our feet. Winter at sea is hard and there were some nights that my toes nearly went black. It’s a sensation I never wanted to feel again, so whenever I had coin, I would spend it on socks…”

“You’re afraid of the cold.”

“Of course, I am. Only those who have lived in comfort don’t.”

Emma drops the socks back into the chest before pushing herself up off the couch and crossing the distance between them. Killian closes his eyes as her fingers trace the length of his cheekbone, pulling her close with his truncated arm and resting his forehead against hers.

“You don’t live on a ship anymore. You live in a house with a decently sized furnace.”

“And you don’t live on the streets anymore, but you know as well as I do that scars tend to linger…”

He’s right and she knows it. The mountain of blankets and the chest full of socks are coping mechanisms, leftover evidence of their past just as tangible as any scar. That doesn’t stop her from wincing at his words however. She can’t think of anything appropriate to say in response. So Emma does what she does best and decides to make a joke, reeling away from the intimacy of the conversation.

“Am I allowed to steal a pair or two from your secret sock chest?”

“What’s mine is yours, of course,” he chuckles in response. “As long as I’m allowed to have a few blankets.”

“Absolutely not, you’re not allowed to touch any of my twenty billion blankets. They’re mine and I totally need all of them at once and can’t spare you one.”

“Greedy,” he teases.

“Okay, maybe you have just one…”

“Just one? Out of your self-professed twenty billion? My, my, my. So generous.”

“If you’re going to complain, I’m going to revoke your privileges.”

He takes some of her blankets anyway. It’s all fair and good because sometimes his socks mysteriously end up on her feet.

Emma doesn’t think about the cold much anymore. It’s easier to handle such thoughts when she has Killian, Henry and her parents now to guide and bring light, love and laughter into her life. When life is good, the hurts hurt a little less.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean they disappear.

It’s a bitter night in late January when her thoughts turn back in time to the fears of her youth. It’s colder than it has been for a while, too cold to start the Bug and thus leaving Emma to walk through the abandoned streets of Storybrooke by herself in the dark. The air is biting, attacking her exposed skin without impunity and seeping into her body. Despite the woolen hat pulled over her ears, they feel numb and she regrets putting in earrings this morning as the cold metal irritates her skin.

Streets are dark, the lamps dull and virtually useless in the winter night. It reminds her too much of the alleys she took refuge in, hiding behind dumpsters, hoping that no one would find her and at the same time also hoping that someone would. She remembers the ratty gloves she wore and how she would tear the holes and frayed edges anxiously, waiting for something to happen; alert, tired and too afraid to fall asleep.

Killian is standing on the porch waiting for her when she arrives home. His smile falters upon catching the expression on her face as she walks into the light. She can tell he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue as he leads her into the house. His hand reaches for hers and it almost burns at the touch, as if the winter chill had made her bones too brittle to handle such heat.

After taking off her jacket and hat, he forces her to sit down in their living room, muttering to himself as he picks up three blankets, the ones she took from Phoenix, St. Louis and Boston, from the woven wicker basket her mother gifted them and starts bundling her. She almost wants to laugh at him for being such a mother hen, but she’s too cold to do anything more than chatter her teeth. He places a brief kiss on her forehead before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Where are you going?”

“To get more blankets!” he responds, not even bothering to look back as he ascends up the stairs. “Don’t move.”

Emma rolls her eyes but nonetheless obeys, not because he asks but more because there’s an episode of A Discovery of Witches playing on her television and it’s one she hasn’t seen, thus confirming her theory that he’s been cheating and watching ahead without her on his nights off.

When Killian returns, this time she does laugh since it seems like he’s grabbed nearly every blanket in the house. He gives her an unimpressed look as he drops the blankets down next to the couch.

“It’s bad form to laugh at a man who is doing something nice for you, love.”

“I can’t help it, you’re cute.”

“I disagree. I’m an absolutely vicious and ruthless terror of the high seas.”

“Who is also very cute and very sweet,” she replies with a small smile. “ I absolutely love you though, so that’s okay.”

“I would hope you love me since you married me after all.”

“I married you for your ship, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she teases.

“Well, that’s a pity because I only share my socks with women who love me.”

He pulls out a pair of socks – the skull and crossbones pair that she pulled out of his chest on the day he revealed his weird sock obsession with her. Without even thinking, Emma snatches the socks out of his hand and hugs them to her chest.

“Pirate,” he laughs with delight.

“I learned from the best,” she replies, leaning forward and kissing his nose.

He settles down next to her as she pulls on his socks, throwing all of the blankets of top of them both. It’s an absurd number of them and Emma feels like there’s half a foot of wool, cotton and fleece on top of her.

“Do you want to watch this or something else?” he asks, pulling her to his side and playing with her hair.

“Well, considering you seem to be a few episodes ahead me, cheater, it might be best to put something else on.”

He rolls his eyes but relents nonetheless by putting on an early episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Emma buries her head in the crook of his shoulder, warm and content despite the bitter cold outside. Her body relaxes, exhaustion from a long day of fielding complaints settles in and she barely notices as her eyelids grew heavy. She’s halfway through a Halloween Heist episode when she falls asleep, snoring quietly into Killian’s neck.

She wakes up a few hours later, disorientated, boiling hot and still on the couch. Killian is conked out beside her, his head thrown back and mouth wide open. Not even caring, she kicks off a good number of blankets and settles back in to sleep.

Who needs blankets when you have a Killian?

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #csjj #cs january joy #cs fanfic #my fic #my shit #bundling against the cold

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qandnoablog · 5 years

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Life on Sakaar (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Life on Sakaar: Discovered Short Story

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Based on the movie - Avengers: Age of Ultron Thor: Ragnarok

Short story based on my other fan fiction: Discovered, so it’s best to read that one before starting on this! Click here if you want to go to Discovered (Marvel Imagine) Part 1

Part: 2/3 Part 1, 2, 3

Key: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 3,073

Summary: [Y/N] is still stranded on the alien planet Sakaar, finally adjusted to this odd way of life, when Loki barges into the picture! Now dealing with the once-enemy of Earth, how will her life on Sakaar change?

Note From Author: Well, I had some free time on my hands and decided to post part 2! Part 3 still has to be looked over and edited, but it’s mostly finished so be expecting that soon (no promises though)!

Part 2

A full week had passed since Loki’s arrival.

[Y/N] had gotten used to his presence in that short amount of time because the Grandmaster insisted on keeping them together. Whenever he invited them out to another one of his famed parties, the two were always by his side upon arrival. Of course, in front of his eyes, Loki and [Y/N] were the best of friends. There was not a trace of disdain that could be found.

But that all changed when the Grandmaster turned his head away.

“Midgardian.”

“Alien.”

In a volume low enough where others couldn’t hear, the two exchanged their usual greetings.

Both terms wouldn’t really be considered offensive in their respective languages. It was just the truth. To Loki, any person from Earth was a Midgardian. To [Y/N], anyone outside of her planet was indeed an alien to her. However, the way they addressed one another with those words sounded like an insult.

Of course, it was Loki that started it.

At first, she didn’t care about the word. She knew it wasn’t slandering in any way since Thor and Scrapper 142 had used it on occasions. When Loki used it, she sensed a bit of arrogance in his tone but brushed it off. Upon further examination, she found it very funny when she realized that Midgardian could be translated to Earthling in her language. Still, being called that constantly, Loki not even bothering to remember her name, [Y/N] was starting to feel irritated.

Since he decided call her Midgardian, then why couldn’t she call him alien? So that’s how their constant exchange began.

The Grandmaster was oblivious to their hidden resentment, enjoying the merriment around him, that he wandered off on his own and left the two behind. Immediately, they were hoarded by the crowd. Pleasantries were exchanged and their usual masks slipped into place to act as welcoming hosts. They shared the living space of the Grandmaster so any party he threw, they were obligated to host along with him.

[Y/N] was starting to feel a bit homesick, a feeling that would just randomly occur whenever she let her mind drift for even a moment. Whenever she missed Earth, she would always excuse herself to visit the Hulk. He was the only one from the same planet as her and the only friend she could truly trust. Scrapper 142 was nice to her, but there was a visible distance that kept her at an arm’s length. Since she couldn’t close that distance, Hulk was the only one that could somewhat alleviate the pains of being away from home.

The people of Sakaar already knew her patterns over the years. She would only ever excuse herself from the Grandmaster’s party to visit the Champion. The Grandmaster never minded, even encouraging her to be with the Hulk so that he wouldn’t get bored if there were no competitions. So long as they were still on Sakaar and continued to entertain him, the Grandmaster would shower the Champion with many favors.

Loki, however, didn’t know this little detail.

“Midgardian,” Loki called out the moment he saw her leaving, but before he could finish, [Y/N] interrupted him.

“Alien.”

She was determined in getting this god to say her name. It would be a small victory, but knowing his domineering personality and belittling nature, it would still be a win nonetheless.

“Where are you wandering off to?” He finished, slightly irked as usual.

“You don’t need to know that,” she sneered, knowing that the Grandmaster wasn’t watching their interaction at this moment since he had called her Midgardian, as she continued on her way towards the exit.

“Ah, but the Grandmaster might,” he countered, standing in her way.

Loki didn’t really mind her going off on her own, but he couldn’t stand the company that would be left behind without her there. It was either the Grandmaster or the incessant crowd that he would have to accompany if [Y/N] left the party early. Rather than sucking up to the ruler or being unnecessarily polite to the guests, he would preferably be in this human’s company who didn’t try to pry him for a lengthy conversation. Besides, he would have liked to have her fall asleep again so that they could avoid unnecessary pests desperate for their attention.

Loki would never let [Y/N] know but he actually wanted to sit together on that couch again. It was the most at peace he felt in ages. He really wanted to savour the feeling again.

“The Grandmaster won’t mind,” [Y/N] replied matter-of-factly, not noticing the flash of disappointment on the god’s face. “Besides, he knows where I’m going.”

The God of Mischief wasn’t dumb. He was cunning and smart. Of course, in just a matter of seconds, he knew exactly where she was going through that small exchange of words.

“You’re going to see the Champion.”

It wasn’t a question. There were few people that [Y/N] would willingly visit. One of them was Scrapper 142, but since the scrapper loved to drink, that company wasn’t often sought after. The other was none other than the famed Champion that the Grandmaster adored. Everyone knew that [Y/N] and his relationship were very good and many flocked to her solely based on that reason alone. It was due to this that the Grandmaster had kept her by his side, allowing her to more easily gain his favor than others.

[Y/N] didn’t confirm or deny Loki’s statement. She merely brushed past him and walked closer towards the exit. Honestly, she couldn’t care less whether or not he knew where she was headed. So long as he didn’t get in her way again, she wouldn’t mind. However, she knew that Hulk and Loki’s relationship was questionable. He most likely had met Hulk during his invasion of New York. If he knew who the Champion really was, would he just sit idly by or would there be a bit of resentment? And, he would know her connection to the Avengers through her friendship with the Hulk. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea to allow the two to meet.

Thinking of that, she turned the corner and before Loki could follow her out, she was gone.

It was a rare, calm day when [Y/N] settled in a chair close to the window.

The Grandmaster was hung over and didn’t feel like throwing a party today, so it was a scarce opportunity to enjoy this moment of peace. The instant he was feeling even remotely better, he would surely make another ruckus, so she had to savor it while she could. Perhaps it would have been better to relish in this silence in her quiet and isolated room, but she wanted to use this opportunity to enjoy the vast space of the Grandmaster’s usual party room. It was large, spacious, and beautiful. It also had a view that [Y/N] had seen for many years, but caused her to feel a twinge of sadness.

She would never admit it… Never out loud… But [Y/N] was starting to forget what Earth looked like. She tried so hard to remember, drawing out all that she could recall, but she was never an artist. There were no pictures to look back on. Nothing to help her jog her memories of Earth. It was… It was horrible, not being able to clearly reminisce of the home she so longed for.

[Y/N] was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice that she was no longer in the room alone.

After a few absent-minded minutes just staring out the window, she finally felt a set of eyes on her. Instinctively, she snapped back to her senses and turned to Loki. [Y/N] was surprised and noticed that her face was wet. She had been crying without even realizing it, so lost in her yearning for Earth. How embarrassing!

[Y/N] immediately wiped away her tears with her sleeve, a practiced motion since thoughts of home often made her emotional, and looked back up to the new arrival. Putting on masks was her specialty after constant use for many years, so she was certain that there was no longer any trace of those vulnerable emotions showing upon her face. In its place, there was only that usual look that she always displayed. Calm with a hint of attitude. Just like how the Grandmaster liked it.

“What do you want?” She questioned, snapping him from his daze.

[Y/N] didn’t even bring up the tears. She made no excuses for herself. No explanation for her crying. She didn’t even let herself look embarrassed or angry. Instead, she acted like it was nothing and just asked Loki a question, brushing aside the tears in an expert fashion.

Honestly, she was secretly proud that her face didn’t immediately heat up. It was like this was practiced when this was actually the first time she was ever caught crying! Not even the Hulk knew of her deep loneliness on this alien planet.

“Pardon me,” Loki cleared his throat and apologized in a mocking tone, though there was something else he seemed to be trying to suppress. “I was just surprised that a Midgardian like you would come out of her room without the Grandmaster’s invitation.”

“Well, alien,” she replied, emphasizing the word and enjoying Loki’s subtle twitch of the brow, “I didn’t know I had to report to you.”

“You misunderstand me,” he said, brushing aside the annoying title, “I am merely curious. If I recall correctly, the sole Midgardian resident of Sakaar only seems to comes out of her room for either the Grandmaster or the Champion.”

“Please, alien, I am just admiring the view of our beautiful Sakaar.” [Y/N] quietly scoffed but had an amicable smile plastered on her face. “So you may put your curiosity at ease.”

They were smiling at one another and if anyone else was listening, they would think it was just a pleasant conversation. However, if they were actually in the room with them, they would feel suffocated by the tension rising in the air. It was as though lightning was shooting from their eyes, daring the other to start the fire so they could really fight.

Finally, Loki broke the stalemate with a somewhat tired voice and a long sigh, slightly surprising [Y/N]. He was always so stubborn, so him giving in so soon was obviously a bit startling.

“Let’s call a truce, shall we?” He proposed, his posture going a bit more relaxed. “It’s a bit tiring and childish to continue, wouldn’t you say? I won’t pry into your life so let’s stop with this ‘alien’ nonsense.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I have no need for whatever little thing is hidden in that mortal head of yours.”

“Hmph, you call this a truce?” His attitude certainly didn’t seem like a call for a truce, but she couldn’t deny that being allies was better than enemies. Their relationship was always shifting between hostility and neutrality. It would be better to choose one than keep on switching between the other. However, that didn’t mean [Y/N] was ready to completely give in. She still had one condition. “You still call me ‘Midgardian’.”

“Yes, but at least that is centered around Midgard, or Earth as you call it. Your use of ‘alien’ encompasses every race, besides your own.”

“So?”

“I’d rather not be associated with so many lower lifeforms.”

“Then… Asgardian?”

Loki didn’t say anything, but the atmosphere immediately plummeted. She could feel the room quickly turning chilly and a shiver crawled up her spine. It was a reaction several times worse than “alien.” There was something else that briefly flashed in his eyes but it happened too fast for her to identify. She immediately regretted the suggestion, even though it was his fault for calling her Midgardian in the first place.

“Let’s just say… You calling me that would not exactly be… Accurate.” He finally answered, the air still tense around them but not as cold as before. He let out a small laugh, but it was a sound that carried not even a drop of joy.

That’s when [Y/N] recalled that Loki was the adopted brother of Thor. She had briefly heard of it from him, since it wasn’t a secret, but she still felt a bit guilty for bringing it up. Just from the look on his face, she knew she had accidentally poked at an open wound.

Pain. That was the flicker of emotion that flashed in those blue eyes. It was pain.

“Then what do you want to be called?” She coughed, trying to shift the topic away from the taboo subject. It was too heavy to bring up, especially when she had barely gotten to know him. “You call me Midgardian, so isn’t it only fair that I call you something similar?”

“... Name,” he eventually mumbled, after a bit of hesitation, barely audible.

“What?” She couldn’t quite catch that.

“Just my name is fine.” Loki clarified with his usual smile, causing [Y/N] to relax. Thankfully, it seemed he no longer bothered with the whole Asgardian debacle.

“Then my name is fine too.” She grinned innocently, though she clearly knew that her forwardness would cause him to feel very uncomfortable. Probably no human talked conditions with him.

“Pardon?” She was right. His stunned expression said it all.

“My name,” she repeated, but the troubled look on his face caused her to feel a bit uneasy. At this point, [Y/N] was no longer smiling. “What? You don’t remember it?”

“...”

He really did forget. [Y/N] thought to herself, her heart falling for some reason. That’s right. Why would he bother to remember a mere mortal’s name. They were too paltry for him to recall. Besides, after a bit of time they would soon be gone. For a god that lived hundreds of thousands of years, remembering one name of someone with such an insignificantly small lifespan would be too much of a hassle. It seemed like she was trying to make excuses, but she still couldn’t shake this disappointed feeling welling up in her chest.

“[Y/N],” she said. [Y/N] couldn’t help but feel a bit displeased that she was that worthless to him. She really had hoped their relationship had gotten better but it seemed it was just her being too naive. “My name is [Y/N] [Y/L/N].”

“Well, [Y/N] [Y/L/N]... It seems we have come to an agreement.” Loki gave one of his signature smiles, a mischievous light glinting in his eyes, as he slightly nodded his head. He didn’t seem to notice the shift in her mood.

“You better remember it, Loki,” she replied, a challenging smirk playing on her face. “If I hear you calling me Midgardian again, I’ll be sure to remind you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled.

[Y/N] returned to her room but Loki stayed behind.

He watched her leave and settled down near the window right were she sat just seconds ago. Copying her actions, he peered out the large glass and looked at the surroundings below. He was used to the beauty of Asgard, so this meager view was not enough to allow him to truly admire the scenery. Still, he continued to stare out the large window just like she had.

He couldn’t help but recall the stunning scene he had stumbled upon.

Loki saw her from a distance while he was roaming around the Grandmaster’s place, something he had done on numerous occasions. While passing by, he had noticed someone familiar from the corner of his eye. Surprised to find her out of her room without the Grandmaster’s invitation, he decided he was bored enough to tolerate her company. He had just taken a few steps closer when he noticed something odd. [Y/N]... She wasn’t like her usual, stoic self. The look on her face… It was familiar to him.

Just as he was rethinking bothering with her, Loki was stunned at what happened next. Tears… Tears silently slipped down from her calm eyes, rolling down her cheeks. It was a sight that he never could have imagined from that headstrong girl that always had a witty comeback to his own subtle insults.

The more he looked, the more mesmerized he stood. She wasn’t sobbing, wasn’t trembling, and wasn’t even making a sound. She just looked out the window as if there was nothing else in the world. He could see a strong yearning in those deep eyes… A loneliness that he was no stranger to. So… So even a Midgardian could have such an expression.

When she showed no embarrassment after being caught in tears, something a strong woman would usually feel ashamed for showing, he felt a discomfort rising in his chest. The practiced motion, the fluidity of her change in attitude, increased the feeling of unease. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time she was caught crying… He didn’t know what that feeling was, but he didn’t like it.

Then she called him alien again.

He believed he was annoyed with how she would always call him alien, grouping him together with so many insignificant lifeforms, but when he thought a bit longer, he realized he just wanted her to call him by his name. The thought just slipped from him, barely audible, but she still caught a glimpse of it.

Why did he want her to say his name? And why did he hide the fact that he remembered hers?

The more he interacted with [Y/N], the more he questioned. It was an unfamiliar feeling that continued to nag at him the more he interacted with her. She was just a human but why did he initiate the conversation? Why did he approach her when the Grandmaster wasn’t even there? Boredom? No, that was clearly just an excuse.

It was an odd stir he felt deep within his chest, but it wasn’t completely uncomfortable. Actually, it was quite interesting because he was not used to the feeling. Perhaps he should talk a bit more with her, getting to know her more, so that he could finally find out what this odd sensation was. Maybe for just a bit longer.

Besides, he had plenty of time, right?

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear @fxckingfat

#marvel imagine #marvel #life on sakaar #discovered short story #discovered #avenger #mutant!reader #avenger!reader #loki #loki x avenger!reader #loki x mutant!reader #grandmaster #fanfics #myfanfic #thor ragnarok

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b4dluckbin · 5 years

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I am evil but- 1 to 50, answer them all!! hahaha (if you only want to do this for one oc- then michaleas)

Hello, I hate you. I'm also not going to cut this because I have no idea how so have fun everyone.

This is for Michaleas Lament.

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

His full name is Michaleas Ermiah Lament. First part is because Michael,,, sounds tOO WHITE. Ermiah I came up with my myself but looking into it, it is kinda close to Ermias or Jeremiah. Hmmmm. Lament? He's a sad boi.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

One personal title he was given while in the military was "The Lamenting Giant". It was more to poke fun at their commander more than anything because of how tall he was and usually he has a distant, kind of sad look on his face like he was constantly thinking.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Yes he did- until he was 9. It was pretty modest but comfortable until then. Fond memories he had would be are listening to his mother hum as he helped her clean around their little house, and looking over his fathers woodwork that he sold in town. For the last bit..... *SCOFFS* His entire life after 9 years old. That's all chock full of bad memories but if I have to limit it of his childhood,,, everything from 9 to 20 years old.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

He knew both his father and mother! He had a very good relationship with them both. They were very nurturing but stern when they needed to be (like when he wanted to go outside or into town with his father). A good memory he has of them is just them sitting together for dinner and his father telling him stories about the places he had been when he was younger.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

He has no siblings.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

He never went to school. He was taught what his father and mother had learned.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

He didn't have any childhood friends as he was cooped up in his house until he was 9. Then he was enslaved for about 10 or so years.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

No he didn't have any pets. He is neutral about animals.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

He's never really interacted with animals before.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

.... CONNA YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXCLUDED SOME OF THESE- Oh god... He thinks children are cute from a distance but are very annoying. He has a son named Adiren. Because of the situation (no I'm not saying it to validate him in just trying to be like vague with how I'm saying this. He is a terrible father in main canon) he was a neglectful father. But in AUs I've had for him he is decent. He's just a tad bit over protective. As a god father? Uhhhh depends on if this is AU or Canon dad Michaleas. If it was an AU and all is Gucci then he'd be decent enough at being a caregiver. If it was main story well- he wouldn't really be worried about them.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

Michaleas is actually not allergic to anything. Except love. Also no, this big boi is a meat eater.

12. What is their favourite food?

Steak and potatoes.

13. What is their least favourite food?

Id have to say maybe fish? He doesn't really like the smell.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

Stew,,, his mother made that a lot.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He is actually fairly decent at cooking! He does enjoy it because it's something to take his mind off of whatever he's currently thinking about. He's been told it's really good but he doesn't,,,, care for compliments.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

If there is a flower he has never seen before you best believe he will press it into his journal.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

Lmao in a modern AU? He'd probably have a little blog or something dedicated to flower pictures. He won't take a picture of himself because he hates how he looks.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

If my boy was literate, I'd say he'd be into adventure stories. He loves acoustic jams because he plays the guitar. Tv or films??? Maybe family movies and comedys. Video games?????? Medieval-esque stuff. He'd be too into Dark Souls and rhythm games.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Tragedy (They just make him sad). For music it's anything too loud.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

I don't think he'd be a fan of musicals very much. Music in general? He likes. If his favorite song were to come on he'd probably just sit and hum along with a smile.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

*insert laugh meme* Yeah. Yeah he fucking does and his blood curse revolves around it. Oh boy he's prone to yelling.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

He likes to use the word "privileged" a lot against people that are acting out.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

He has a good memory but he can remember faces better than the names that correspond to them.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

It isn't much sleeping as it is lying awake and staring at the wall. When he does sleep ooooh yeah he snores. Not like,,, super loud but noticeable. He likes a more soft bed because hard beds make his back hurt.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

,,, he has a dark sense of humor unless it's just something you really can't have a straight face at. Someone almost choke on bread? He will have a fit. He isn't really one for telling jokes himself.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

When Micha is happy he usually just has a smile plastered on his face for a while. He is capable of singing but doesn't like doing it, so he opts to humming. He doesn't know how to dance.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Remembering his past trauma. No he doesn't cry regularly and if he feels he will he will hide off somewhere and call himself a dumb ass. When he's sad he's desolate. He makes himself scarce and when he is around you get that brooding feeling.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Going back to the slave ring. Nothing really scares him. Maybe little jump scares but eh. When he's actually fucking terrified? He will close up on himself and leave. Fast.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Like Kai it really just depends on what the fear is. Spiders? You can handle that yourself. Groups of unknown people in an unknown place? Yeah no, come here and walk with him now so he can watch out.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Post military Michaleas hardly worked out any more, but when he was still there? Totally.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Oh gOD THIS IS PART OF THE PROBLEM WITH HIM BEING A PARENT. He falls into a deep depression because of some shit and picks up drinking more so than he did before in the military. He really just wants to forget so badly. When he's hungover he's a complete asshole. When he's drunk it's just sad boi hours.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

He gets his clothes at any normal clothing store. Nothing fancy at all just basic shirt and pants. Sleeping is just pants no shirt. His hair? Messy short brown hair parted in the middle with Short cut bangs.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Hi, the image of granny panty Micha is scared into my brain thanks- boxers my fam.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body

Me, explaining Micha to anyone: Bara. But,,,, smaller,,,, he's like 6ft6-6ft7. Does he like his body? Eh. He doesn't like the scars that litter it.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

Guilty pleasure? Spending time with a certain fucking vampire. Unguilty pleasure? He likes,,,, sweets.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

He's good at playing the guitar and fighting. If he was allowed I'm sure he'd pick up gardening. Who knows if he can sing? :3c

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

*quietly sobs* he's shit at reading.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

How some people can go about their lives so easily without a care in the world.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Talk to him,,, face to face. Dont be a coward.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

I mean,,,, does trauma count as a natural way to stay awake and alert? Because I feel like it is personally.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

*leans into mic* He's gay. He is more both when it comes to someone. He needs someone who isn't just using him for,,, sex because hi- sex drive? There, but honestly kind of hates it. He wants someone to talk to and help him through his bad moments. Someone who won't talk shit to him about being weak because he does that to himself enough.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

*leans into mic further* To be able to have a decent relationship with said vampire from earlier.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

He isn't religious at all. He's Atheist actually. He thinks they're just sheep following a Shepherd. Non religious people, in his eyes, are smart to see through that shit.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

Michaleas likes the time around the end of winter because that's when the flowers start to bulb up. He thinks its beautiful. He fucking hates the heat. You can't escape it.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

They look to him as something like a pillar. He doesn't waver and they believe if they try hard enough they won't either. Which is,,,, completely different than how he sees himself. He hates hIMSELF AND THINKS HE'S WEAK LMAO.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

I mean,,, no. He's very fucking blunt with his observations of people. Yes and no with reflecting him accurately. He is very observant but he isn't like,,, that when you warm up to him. He plays around more and talks shit. Michaleas introduces himself as such. Michaleas.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

He hates fancy events. He will wear what he has to but he isn't going to have his tie tied or creases ironed. He doesn't give a shit. He wants to leave.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Regular parties where he can just drink and have fun? Totally. No one prissy there just a bunch of rough dumbasses. He doesn't plan parties he just turns up if he hears about it and is like "where is the booze".

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

He doesn't have anything like that. He has his sword for protection so I mean that counts as a need everywhere and anywhere. Edit: I lied. He has a journal with pressed flowers he normally has on him always.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Water, food, things to start a fire, tools and his sword.

#thanks for the ask!#my oc #michaleas #im going to go kill you now #excuse me

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playboi-reads · 6 years

Text

Astrology, the Basics

“Wait, so i’m not just an Aries?!”

No, you’re not. In fact none of us are just one anything. So let’s dial it back to day we were born. The stars and planets in the sky aligned to convey a story completely unique to you, and thus your natal chart was born!

Our Sun sign

“Playboi, what’s a Sun Sign?”

Well, the Sun Sign is the sign everyone typically knows about themselves. It’s the sign you were born under that immediately correlates with your birthday. Meaning, “I was born in April so I’m a Taurus!” Your sun sign is the sign the Sun was in on the day of your birth. So what does the sun represent in astrology? Our vitality and ego, “who we are.” The thing about the Sun is we’re constantly growing into ourselves and our egos, constantly learning ourselves and strengths, so we’re constantly growing into our Suns. Many people write off astrology due to their inability to relate to their Sun signs when so much more goes into a person. Your Sun sign is less “who i am” and more so “who i’m becoming.” And sometimes we never fully become the poster child of our Sun signs because we grow at different rates and resonate with different things, not to mention the housing of the Sun plays a heavy role in how our “egos” will play out. Also aspects made to our Sun by other planets are most important as they shape our Sun’s characteristics, but that’s another post!

Our Moon Sign

“...okay, so I understand Sun Signs now, but what’s a moon sign?”

The moon sign in astrology is of immense importance. This is where we feel most comfortable and secure and our primal emotional reactions. As I mentioned previously, the sun is “who we’re becoming’’ while the moon can be defined as “who we always are.” Unlike the Sun who illuminates everything, the moon is a softer, dimmer light. It lights up the dark sky at night and it does the same for our personal dark sky emotionally. Simply put, the moon is our emotions. Emotions can be simply irrational and erratic, so we suppress them because throwing a hissy fit in public is not that endearing. My point being that our moons can sometimes be overlooked by others as well as our selves because the attributes of our moons are highly subconscious at times.The moon is how we were nourished, and in turn how we nourish others. It’s an extremely sentimental and personal part of our being.It’s what makes us feel safe as well as habitual patterns we carry. A balanced moon is very important as an unbalanced one can take a toll on us physically. When the needs our moon requires aren’t met, we can start to display it’s negative attributes and fall into a bit of a depression, eat less, and never leave your bed. Or perhaps become more aggressive and angry depending on your moon sign. It’s also equally important to understand that others around us have different moon placements then us natally. Everyone requires different things to feel emotionally secure, sometimes we’re harder on others because their love languages differ from our own.

Our Mercury Sign

“What does Mercury have to do with anything?”

Well, everything. Mercury rules over the mind, how we think, how fast we think, how we learn, our speech, and even our style of writing. He’s the fastest moving planet in the solar system so it’s fitting that he rules the nervous system. The poor guy gets glossed over a lot until he turns retrograde and everyone starts running around like chickens missing their heads because that’s when we notice most how strong Mercury’s influence is on our lives. Mercury is not an emotional planet but more so an intellectual one. It’s how we asses things and use logic before we act, if we use logic before we act.

Our Venus Sign

“I KNOW THIS ONE...LOVE RIGHT?”

You’ve guessed it, Venus rules over romance but a lot more as well. She’s our social graces, if we have any social graces at all. How we charm others as well as what we personally find pleasurable. Venus rules over our attitude towards money and material things. How much we spend and how often we treat ourselves. What we like to eat, what tastes good, what feels good. Venus is also our attractiveness, and what we’re attracted to. She gives us a clue to our love language on a more superficial level, what it takes to woo us. How we like to be seduced and pursued. Venus is diplomatic, she shows us how we make peace with others. Venus also rules over artistry and how appreciate the arts and even the possibility of having artistic gifts as well. Venus also highlights our sexual nature in terms of what we find pleasurable, what feels right, and what we find acceptable.

Our Mars Sign

“Mars is our...anger?”

He can be, yes. After all he is the God of War. Mars in astrology represents energy. Our physical energy and vitality, and especially our sexual energy. He’s all about action, what it physically takes us to do...well, anything. He’s our day to day strength and drive. He exemplifies how aggressive and assertive we are. Our ambitions, durability, temperament, action, and drive. Do we exercise? How sexual are we? Our sexual style? Our competitiveness? All can be answered by our mars sign. Mars showcases how quick we are to anger, what makes us tick/explode. He’s also the last of the personal planets.

Our Jupiter Sign

“......”

Jupiter is the first non personal planet as it stays in the same for an entire year. Everyone born within that year will have the same Jupiter sign. That doesn’t negate Jupiter’s importance in anyway, so don’t skim over him. It just means we have take a closer look at him in our natal chart by examining his house placement and aspects made towards him by other planets. Jupiter rules over good fortune, philosophy, travel, and higher level learning (different from mercury.) He is expansive and optimistic. He’s a grand catalyst to spiritual growth. He’s where we overindulge, our generosity, and wisdom.

Our Saturn Sign

“So what does Saturn do?”

Saturn is like our astrological father. He sets the rules and regulations, the routine. And like when we disobey our paternal father there’s consequences the same applies for Saturn. Saturn is not out to punish anyone, he just returns anything we put out into the universe. “What goes around comes around.” Sound familiar? Saturn rules over Karma. Saturn in our chart shows us where he grounds us, where we must be held responsible, where we must work hard. Our careers, the practicality of how we achieve success.

Our Uranus Sign

“and Uranus?”

Uranus is a much slower moving planet. His energy is very erratic, spontaneous, and rebellious. He’s extremely progressive and an advocate for originality. Uranus has to be looked at by house placement to determine its effects on us individually, as people from the same generation will share the same Uranus sign. Uranus in our charts will show us where we are unpredictable and rebellious. How and where we go against the grain. Our humanitarian side. How interested in activism we are, where we are liberated ourselves.

Our Neptune Sign

“that Sea God?”

Indeed. Neptune is the God of the Sea. In astrology Neptune rules over spirituality, all things hazy, confusion, love and romance on a deeper, ethereal level. He is illusions and our dreams. Intuition and psychic abilities. Neptune has dominion over deeper creativity and artistic abilities. He also shows us where we might try to escape reality and what we may try to use to escape reality with. He is addiction, substance abuse, and deception. Our fantasies.

Our Pluto Sign

“isn’t Pluto like not even a planet anymore?”

Yes, technically Pluto is a planetoid, but we still refer to Pluto as a planet in astrology so he will be respected as such! Despite his small size and the grand amount of distance he is from us his effects are undeniable.Pluto in our charts shows us where we are transformed and regenerated. Where we must die to be born again. His energy is very subconscious, we don’t always see it, but we feel it. He is obsession, and our hunger for power, where we struggle for power. He is how we react to sex on a deeper, subconscious level. Where and what we become drawn and attached to. His energy is very primal. He also highlights where we’re manipulative or jealous if we’re displaying the negative attributes of Pluto.

Our Ascendant Sign

“our...what sign?”

Our Ascendant sign is crowned the ruler of our chart, and is of equal importance as our Sun and Moon signs. It’s specific to our birth time and location. The Ascendant is like the mask we put on to face the world. It’s our initial reaction to external forces. The lens we see life through on a day to day basis. Our ascendant is our physical bodies, how we look and how we act in public. It’s how people initially receive you, our first impressions, our mannerisms. Our outer personality. If people were to describe you they’d likely describe this sign.

So, as you can see a lot goes into a persons personality even more than what’s been mentioned above, humans are complex beings who can’t be described as just one sign, or one anything. We are more than our sun signs, we are more than signs period.

- playboi

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a-tired-bass · 6 years

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Ares, Dionysus, Hera, Hypnos, Kronos, Nyx, Selene and Zeus!

I had like. A paragraph written for each of these questions. And then tumblr glitched and just erased. All of them. I am LIVID. I will try my best to recreate what I had written, or really just write the stuff anew.

Ares: What small thing makes you angry?

Incompetencies, especially of those who claim they’re experts or professionals on a subject. Or people who do things in an objectively wrong fashion. Those are particular pet peeves of mine. But when it comes to something small, it has to be the inability of people to sense the world around them. I’m talking particularly of the kind of people who amble on a sidewalk, walking side to side at random, and taking up the entire sidewalk when I am right behind them walking at a now much-restricted pace and trying to get past. Pay some attention to your surroundings people!

Dionysus: Do you drink alcohol? If so, what’s your beverage of choice?

I’m mostly a social drinker and rarely buy alcohol for myself when I’m alone. On the rare occasion that I do, I generally drink enough to get tipsy for 1 or 2 nights and then have a now half-empty bottle of said alcohol sitting on my desk for however long it takes for me to decide I want to drink them again (I have a bottle of vodka on my desk right now that I got a very long time ago, half emptied it in a week, and have had 1 or 2 shots worth since then - which was maybe a year ago). The one exception to that was when I bought a bottle of arak and was drunk for an entire week because all I did was sit at home, playing video games and constantly sipping at it as though it were water (1. I did drink water during that week, otherwise, I’d be dead, 2. That was actually a very social week for me because all of my mates were on holidays so I spent almost every hour of my awake time chatting with them online, 3. I’m so glad arak is not cheap or easily available here in any way cause oh boy that would be bad for me). But, to actually answer the question! My drink of choice is usually an apple cider (hot tip, put a shot of spiced whisky in your cider), or occasionally, a vodka concoction of some kind (usually vodka lemonade or something simple - cocktails are prohibitively expensive).

Hera: Are you the jealous type?

Oh yes, absolutely. I’m not an envious person, I don’t want what other people have (except a healthier and more stable mind/body, but that’s a different matter). But I am very, very much a jealous person. When I have something, or someone close to me, I don’t want to let that go, and in particular, I don’t want someone else taking it from me. This applies to both relationships and friends. I tend to feel awful when something changes with my relationship with mates or our plans because of someone else. But oh boy, let me tell you, my head was REAL screwy working out that I am very jealous person in my last relationship (not that it wasn’t screwy after working out that I was jealous, just that once I understood my emotions I could come more to terms with them and behave more appropriately). Ultimately, it played a big part in the termination of my relationship of course, but that’s another story.

Hypnos: What was your most recent dream about?

Unfortunately, I don’t really remember. My memories of dreams fade very rapidly, and unless they’re particularly fresh, vivid, memorable, recurring (regular dream, or alas, nightmare), I can generally only give the gist of what it was about. For example, all I can tell you about the final dream I had last night was that it was sexually inclinated, which is honestly pretty uncommon for me.

Kronos: What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever eaten?

Don’t know really. I was never the kind of kid who ate strange things, and I don’t think that regional foods like haggis, pâté, or blood sausage count, though I’ve eaten and disliked them. However, I can unequivocally say the stupidest thing I’ve licked is a light bulb. Have no clue why I did that. Or why I did it a second time. I recall it tasted salty.

Nyx: What’s your favorite nighttime activity?

To answer boringly, sleep. To answer less boringly, it’s play games with friends - 2 nights a week, I meet up with mates to play role-playing games (currently, ‘Call of Cthulu’ and ‘Star Wars’). Other nights, if people aren’t busy, we will occasionally just hop on voice chat in discord and play games on our computers, whether together or just on our own, but with the pleasure of each other’s virtual company. I’m not a clubbing kind of person - I don’t like loud, unregulated spaces, so clubs, or even loud bars, generally make me very uncomfortable. I am a very digital person, so virtual company to me is very much valued by me - sure, it’s not quite physical company, but it has its own merits. Given that I am a very digitally inclined person, and that I am somewhat of a night owl, my 'nighttime’ is merely just shifted around the clock a couple of hours, as really the only difference is that I have some house lights on. Time is an abstract concept that doesn’t truly exist, it is merely a system of measurement that we use to organise ourselves. For me, time is often generally only relevant to what my body is demanding (breakfast has been at midday for me for the past several weeks for example), and my commitments to others.

Selene: What’s your favorite phase of the moon?

Full moon, without a doubt. Gibbous moons (waxing or waning) came close, and I’ll always have a place in my heart for a good old Cheshire Cat Crescent moon, but full moon definitely wins. I have very good eyesight, and the illumination of a full moon generally allows me to walk around in the dead of night with no other forms of light barring the stars. Something about being able to see clearly when there should be naught but black outside strikes a whimsical and magical chord in my heart.

Zeus: What do you think about thunderstorms?

I adore thunderstorms. Of all meteorological events that I have experienced, thunderstorms unequivocally have the highest place in my heart. I wouldn’t be particularly thrilled to be caught in one, but to listen to one as I’m falling asleep is one of the most calming things I have ever experienced. To sit and watch one on a balcony fills me with such awe that I can’t help but be amazed and rejoiced by their presence. To wrap myself up in something warm and cozy and curl into a chair to watch the rainfall and lightning strike is always a wonderful time to me, and one of my favourite ways to spend hours. I love the sound of thunder, the deep rumble of a distant strike echoing through the sky, its very depths creating a vibration I can feel in my bones. The sharp crack of a nearby strike, a tremendous sound which pierces the heavens and for a moment you hear nothing else. I love seeing lightning strike out in the distance, counting the seconds from when I see it flare brilliantly into existence and disappear in moments, and marvel at the speed in which this sound of glorious magnitude has travelled kilometres to reach me. I love watching as they flare behind and inside the cloudbanks, illuminating them in brilliantly clear silhouettes for a few seconds. I love to watch as the lightning forks down to the ground, each individual stream of tremendous energy roaring it’s way through a resistant sky (seriously watch this in slow-motion, it’s beautiful). I love the smell of the world, the petrichor of the earth, wet by the rain, or the sharp, bitter smell of ozone. I love the aftermath of a storm, the wet dewdrops on leaves, puddles reflecting a newly blue sky or clear mirror of the stars, the scorch marks or beautiful patterns of ground or trees struck by lightning, the pillars of glass bursting into the sky from sand. I love how this amazing and awesome power just exists, completely oblivious and unadulterated by us, existing before, after, and regardless of us.

I am infinitesimally small when it comes to the majesty of lightning, and thunderstorms have left me in tears of wonderment.

On the other hand, getting caught in a thunderstorm in an open field is a different and entirely terrifying concept.

—

Have another completely new set of answers. Apparently, I was in a very wordy mood tonight. Thank you so much for the questions though @greyjioys !!! It’s always fun, and for some reason, these in particular were quite thought inspiring.

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coffeeandmoonthoughts · 3 years

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I work with this girl who I’ve noticed a pattern of behavior from and I used to be able to completely ignore it, but now it’s all I see. I’ve distanced myself from her SO much while still trying to be nice but I’m having a really really really hard time being nice to her now. I feel so defensive. I just want to avoid her. I understand it’s easy for me to pass judgment on a life I’m not living, but dude, she exhausts me. She never stops talking and has a boat load of issues in which she’s in therapy for (as she loudly let’s everyone know) and everything she says requires a Grand reaction from the people around her... she stares at you uncomfortably waiting to see the reaction she wants or what she wants to hear, which is exhausting and leaves me feeling depleted when I leave her presence. There have been multiple times in the last few months where she’s been in the break room with my other coworker and she’s been violently talking shit about people’s social media accounts (she never posts, she just stalks) and the things she’s said are so presumptive and mean that I’ve got up from the table and walked away in mid conversation because I don’t want to be like that and when I’m around that... I start to fall into that behavior. Earlier this summer I fell into that trap of talking shit with them about a girl I really don’t even know, I looked over her account and made assumptions about her and everything. A girl I don’t really know well or even speak to. The next day I messaged the girls and apologized for speaking so meanly about someone I DIDNT EVEN KNOW and that I shouldn’t have done that, and this girl told me it was natural human nature, and I know it is, but it’s action that come from my lower nature and I’d rather not be that kinda person. I just want to distance myself into another planet. She seems very negative and insecure and I know I can’t be bothered by it because I used to be that way too. There’s a long long list of other interactions I’ve had that might build a better case for the pattern of behavior I see but it’s way too much to mention.

It feels like she sucks the life from me and I’m having a hard time controlling my emotions and not getting hostile and defensive with my walls. I’m having a hard time being nice and kind based on what I’ve witnessed. Ugh. Relations are hard. Is there a way to go about being kind in this situation or should i put up my guard and accept the label as bitch because, you can’t escape life without someone calling you one. Am I being fair??? To her??? To me??? She makes my skin crawl. She’s full of negativity. It drags me down. Are these boundaries? The problem is, I know she has issues and constantly talks about being in therapy and what her therapist says. But being in therapy doesn’t put a halo on you. You have to do the work. I feel like she’s dishonest to herself and a lot of the people around her. I didn’t trust her from the get go but i didn’t know why and now I made a mistake and developed a friendship I want out of.

I know she notices because once we were much closer but then I saw all this stuff that I can’t ignore and I can’t ignore the way it makes me feel. Is it right to let it bother me? No ones business should bother me. And we work together in a close environment.

#personal #help #SOS #asking for a friend

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anathemanonymous · 4 years

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A black hole in the center of each galaxy holds it all together by gravity. If you get too close to the edge of this mysteriously dark force, you god damn bet you will be destroyed. Its pull is inescapable.

This is what it feels like for a codependent empath to be in a relationship with an oblivious narcissist.

After 16 years I was on the brink of self destruction.

He doesn't want me to leave. Nor is he willing or able to treat me right. He will hold me here. Suspended.

My gut and my heart are left with no choice. Resort to survival mode. Years of enduring, in fight or flight mode - forced to find escape or perish.

Well, I fawned, of course, while constantly running in place, for years. I exhausted myself, trying to stay in a toxic situation. Covering up. Miserable. Cut off.

I suppose it has made me proficient at every method of self preservation.

I capably fixed, resentfully mended, disappointedly looked the other way, sucessfully minimized, shut my heart off, closed down my instincts, ignored red flags, rosily smiled as if this lack of support and constant criticism was all normal.

I invisibly and wearily attempted to control, endlessly argued and slammed doors, begged and cried and pleaded, sought therapy and struggled to cope, yelled at a wall for hours, handled all the responsibility and carried all the weight. For 16 years.

Nearing the edge of a lifetime achievement of a second or third mental and emotional breakdown, as if the first one taught me nothing.

I wondered if the values I sought were probably just imaginary things like open communication, respect, equal responsibility, growth, acceptance, forgiveness, friendship, love, support.

A voice from within:

This is my one lifetime. Its my life. I have a choice. My feelings are valid. I deserve to be treated with respect. I need to be honest with myself. This is not healthy. I cant fix it. This is not the way I want to feel the rest of my life. I am tired of being ignored, tested and detested. Unseen. Dishonored. Obligated. I dont even believe in marriage! This contempt he is having towards me feels eerily familiar...

I'm choosing a different direction.

Small doses of oxygen:

It felt like drowning while knowing it is possible to walk on water. It felt like being pulled underwater by the person that swam with me into the depths. Then hung on me and quit swimming, until I exhausted and became numb to being pulled under water. We both went down. Because he refused to let go. And I didnt want him to.

I had a sense of profound faith to believe everything in life could be done peacefully. I was ok with creating some distance even while idealizing and avoiding a finality. Doing it with love. Quietly...tip toeing away from my responsibility to him. I thought I could get away, stop sacrificing myself to win him over.

Lets exist in the gray. No black or white clean-cut edges, no permanent severing necessary.

I need to get away from myself. I don't want to face the inevitable challenge of separation. Who will I be? I've only focused on him for so long!

I know the need to be away from him, away from the daily stress.

I cant decide. I cant make a move. I am frozen. It feels familiar.

I want less pain, to do no harm. I need to go.

I avoid the well worn path of court-dictated divorce. Not sure I need one. I avoid the attorney's office, because they are only there-to-take advantage of our adversarial nature. I must never ever involve the courts, they will expose him. They will not dictate my life. I wont drag his name through the mud. I promise.

Just let me get my own place. We can stop fighting all the time. It will help us get along. I just need some distance. To clear my mind.

I have to find a way around being the cause of the kinds of permanent damage that my parents created. Three of their children now mid life, all diagnosed with complex ptsd from seperate doctors. Just beginning to realize the patterns of triggers. The damage to intimacy.

I am certain of my capacity to love deeper, to thereby prove society wrong. Prove that breaking up a shitty marriage does not have to entail creating mass destruction and trauma. I wouldn't expose him. I can create a safeway to prevent a nuclear family from becoming a nuclear bomb. I just need time, to breathe and be alone in a peaceful environment.

Determined to prove that separation can be accomplished win-win: because I am creative at finding fucking solutions. Because by god, I am doing the right thing. I will remain gentle. I will not report the abusive tactics. I will never tell on him or tarnishhis precious reputation.

I access legal separation agreement forms online, and fill them out myself. No lawyers. No drama. I will give him the house. I never asked for child support. In trade for my freedom.

A voice from within:

Go. Let the pieces fall where they may. I am a survivor. I've lost everything before. I've died many times in this one lifetime. I have always been reborn. I will reemerge.

I walked away. I got a shitty little apartment.

It took me several years to finally face the fact that leaving was necessary. It was the last resort as the only way to protect my sanity. I did not confront this entirely directly. I detached emotionally inch by inch. I left the door open...

That was a mistake. My wishy washy avoidance of making decisions inevitably ends with having to finalize a permanent severing of contact.

We have to be enemies openly now. Instead of just behind closed doors.

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thedeanrogers · 4 years

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Well Let Me Tell You That There's Nothing Wrong, It's Just That Ones Like Us Will Never Belong

Boundaries have always been something I have had problems with enforcing. Either because I’m incredibly naïve or gullible, at times. I have allowed people to manipulate me. I have allowed people to subvert my resolve. I have allowed people to overpower their way into dictating to me how I should act, or how I should think.

For many years, I thought it had more to do with believing in the good in people. And looking for that. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that people are inherently selfish egoists. Only interested in using to their own, be it people, things, whatever. Once that purpose has been fulfilled, that object or person gets discarded. Having ultimately served whatever purpose they were pulled for. Knowing that now, I fight this daily. I fight with myself to retain control of my life. To retain control of my actions. To retain control of my emotions. What’s even worse is that it is amplified, as it pertains to my children.

When I was in my teens and 20s, I floated between groups. I was constantly in motion. There was a very large part of my psyche and ego that feared what would happen if people were able to see how damaged I was. I wasn’t sure what would happen, were my peers to see me as who I was, and not who I portrayed myself as being. It was here that I, sort of, perfected the ability to roleplay. I could give different groups and different people specific facets of myself. I could keep them held at a distance, and I could control how much of who I was they got to see. It became a survival mechanism. Something that became so deeply ingrained in who I am, that it is something that I have adapted as part of my sense of self. I tend to joke about how I am a man of many hats, but there’s a deep truth under the statement. Each role has a hat assigned. Dad. Employee. Friend. Lover. Asshole. Writer. And so on. As I’ve gotten older and learned more about myself and learned about how I process the world around me, I’ve learned how to transition between those hats more fluidly. I’ve integrated them into who I am, and I’ve learned to accept that those hats correspond to the needs of the world, as it exists outside of my body and my mind.

Unfortunately, this is also a cause for tension. There are people in my life who feel that this sort of, situationally appropriate, role-transitioning is indicative of my being psychotic. Or that I’m sociopathic. Because I don’t conform to their attempts to compartmentalize me. I don’t stay static. I am constantly evolving and growing and learning. I am constantly implementing concepts learned from the lessons. Constantly looking for ways to improve. Constantly looking for a better way. And because I do not feel it imperative to remain in stasis. Maybe this has to do with my constant chasing of enlightenment. My pursuit of transcendence. My struggle to move into something greater than myself. I have come to think that the fact that I am looking for something greater than myself, and choosing not to rest on my laurels, has created a resentment.

How does that relate to boundaries? The hostility toward me plays out in scattershot attacks, usually the same tired, cliched points of attack. The same rhetoric used against me that doesn’t reflect whom I currently am. And does not reflect whom I intend to be in the future. And when I choose to reinforce the boundary, it creates further hostility. It creates further tension. And it plays out in a violent mishmash of flying words, vitriol, and psychosis. The realisation that my life is not a mirror, was important. I do not reflect anything. I am not the individual whom people project onto me. And I choose not to let that project define my sense of self. I choose not to accept it when people adopt the toxic projections onto me as gospel. Likewise, I do my best not to accept how people are characterized to me. I let their own decisions define their character to me. And fuck if that level of mental detachment isn’t difficult. Because sometimes the ego and the emotions want to kneejerk all over the place and create unnecessary bullshit. Sometimes the moment carries too much power, and I allow myself to take the bait. I’m human. I’m flawed. I haven’t mastered the art of putting into execution, the lesson of knowing and understanding that what someone says about me isn’t indicative of me. It is indicative of their perception of me, and their perception of themselves. Much in the way that my perception of other people may not, always, reflect who they are.

When I was younger, I feared scrutiny. I feared examination. I feared confrontation with those less than perfect sides of myself. The level of my own insecurity dictated how easily I was malleable. And now that I have lived and experienced quite a bit; I’ve come to understand that there are people who never really step out of that mentality. They surround themselves in a cushion of denials and self-delusions, and they get aggressive when their self-image is questioned or perceived to be attacked. They need those untruths to be “true”, otherwise their sense of self is shattered. While I don’t directly remember feeling this to this level, I was more afraid of being exposed for being a sham.

Another big lesson I’ve learned about boundaries is how it relates to control. Those who feel like they are out of control, regularly disregard boundaries. They regularly disregard anything which will take control out of their hands. A great Instagram page, The Holistic Psychologist, posted something about this which struck me, “You’re crazy to everyone who can’t manipulate you.” And when I thought about it, it struck me as true. Almost blindingly so. And it’s something I carry with me.

Having said all of that, the place where those boundaries gets weird, is how it relates to my children. I am expected to trust their mothers are acting in good faith, and doing right by the kids, even though the very concept of it repulses me. I am expected to believe that these two women have the best interest of my children in mind; when all demonstrative action I see out of them indicates a level of self-centeredness that leads me to doubt what I am supposed to take in good faith. I feel I should be upfront in stating that I do not like either of these women, as people. In terms of the way the relationships played out, both were verbally and psychologically abusive. One was physically abusive. Both have gone out of their way to portray me as being psychologically unstable, controlling, and manipulative. And that’s just what comes off the top of my head. I was criticised for my own mental and emotional issues yet expected to cater to theirs. I was treated as though my thoughts and feelings were not valid, under the guise of accusations of treating them the same. Unfortunately, I see the same patterns of behavior starting to play out with them, with my kids. They both claim to be in therapy, but I don’t see any sort of indication that this therapy is actually constructive. It just looks like, from someone who was forced outside, that it’s just a continuation of the self-delusion. And that doesn’t benefit the kids at all.

By virtue of the fact that I am expected to co-parent, my ability to set up boundaries is slightly hampered. Because these women don’t respect anyone’s boundaries. They don’t know how to do anything but chase whatever whim their ego screams at them. And to me, a lot of the times, their egos run strongly counterproductive to what is best for the children. Or what is best for the harmony of the situation. Whenever I speak up about something, I’m met with derision. I’m met with attacks. I’m met with perpetual static. I am not allowed to establish limitations on what can be said. I am not allowed to establish boundaries on what I feel is acceptable for my children, because those boundaries interfere with their mother’s lives.

The most blatant two examples I can offer are this: bedtimes and significant others. My daughter has a problem with constantly falling asleep when she is in the car, no matter how short or far the trip is. She acts like she never gets any sleep. She always acts like she is exhausted. I know that when she is with me, she has the activity at school; either PE or recess, as well her martial arts class. But when she is with her mother, she does nothing active. Additionally, her mother doesn’t respect her bedtime. And then I’m left to wonder why my daughter has little to no energy. Both mothers of my children have a problem with being appropriate about their relationships with each kid. To them, their dalliances are just “friends”. Even though my kids see them kissing these new men. The kids see them going into the same bedroom. The kids aren’t dumb. But exposing your children to these men, like a revolving door, does not set the best of examples for them on how to view their relationships. Not every person you date deserves the honor of meeting your children. The lesson I was taught was that my children should only be introduced to the women I potentially date, once I’m sure that they’re going to be around on a near-permanent basis. The kids don’t need to know that people are expendable. The kids deserve to see better relationship models. Stability. Not the chaos of the perpetual revolving door. And not the gradual development of the fear of impermanence.

I struggle daily in enforcing my boundaries. I struggle with not capitulating to someone else’s desires. Because the weight of the bullshit that is thrown is absolutely depressing. And draining. No one deserves to feel like that. I’m better than I was, but I feel I could still improve. And I’m sure I will as I continue to grow, and evolve, and learn about myself and how to deal with my world.

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demon-drummer · 4 years

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Depression - Demi Shares his experiences.

From the past few years of exploring my mental health issues, I have learned that everyone experiences depression differently. Helping others get through their depression often involved sharing bits and pieces of my own experiences. For almost everyone that goes through this, depression invokes a sense of deep loneliness... like you are completely alone with your struggles. That’s why I find that it is very important to let people with depression know that they aren’t alone~ and one of the most effective ways of showing that, at least from my experience, is sharing your stories with them.

I won’t go into the specific details regarding my personal journey, I’ll share some here but many of you can feel free to reach out and ask me about more details and I’ll answer what I’m comfortable with sharing. My hope for this post isn’t just to vent my own struggles but also show to those that might read this that they aren’t alone with their pain. Keep reading if you’re willing to spend a good amount of time reading a goddamn novel of Demi's experience.

For me, it’s often unclear what triggers a depressive episode. Sometimes it can be blatantly obvious and other times it can be so subtle of a trigger that it feels like my depression came out of nowhere. Regardless of how it is caused, I start to feel a quick gradual heaviness in my chest, almost like when your heart aches from watching an emotional scene of a movie but the feeling is amplified. I start to question everything about my life and, as you can probably guess, the thoughts of hopelessness follow very soon after.

This fuels the heaviness in my chest and it has now become a continuous downward spiral of negativity feeding itself. Everything branches outward as a result of this cycle and gradually affects my life as the episode persists:

Having little to no interest in hobbies and passions.

Neglecting my physical health (ex. stop exercising, no care for what I eat or starving myself)

Distancing and even isolating myself from close friends and family.

Those are the most significant things that hit me at first and it all continues to feed back into that initial spiral. My room becomes increasingly untidy and it takes so much energy to go take a shower or brush my teeth. I feel so drained and tired all the time that I just end up falling into bed and sleeping the day away; half hoping that the episode passes but mostly just not having the energy to deal with anything...

And that’s honestly the scariest part of this to me: I’m not choosing to do any of this because I’m lazy. I feel like it would be so much easier to just be told: “Stop being lazy and go do something!” And yes, that guilt of thinking I might actually just be lazy fuels the cycle as well. No one has to tell me I’m being lazy even if I’m honestly not, I’m already telling myself that I am whether it’s true or not. Self-deprecation is already a constant presence for me without a depressive episode, but it’s twice as common and impactful during an episode.

Fortunately, often the remedy can be as simple as spending some time on my drums, playing video games, venting to my close friends, or meditating. However I do admit it’s all a bit risky... as you can imagine. I’m in a pretty delicate state of mind in those moments and one thing going bad at the wrong time can just make things worse:

Not feeling like I’m playing my instrument well.

A bad loss in a video game.

My friends responding un-ideally or not responding at all.

Thoughts clouding my mind too densely during meditation.

Often if this ends up happening, I end up turning to coping methods that are less than ideal. Depending on the severity of my episode, even the smallest details going wrong can make matters worse for me, and I hate that about myself. You can probably tell at this point that there’s a prominent pattern: Everything negative fuels that downward spiral... even when I’m trying my hardest to fight back the negativity.

The comfort I can draw from my experiences is that I know for a fact that there is light at the end of the episode. Practicing mindfulness, self-compassion, and receiving genuine caring support from my close circle of friends typically stands victorious and I’m able to pull myself out from the depressive cycle. This lasts for a varying amount of time, perhaps a few days or even a few months, before another episode is triggered... like a spiral within a larger cycle. And this is something I have been constantly fighting every day for the past half decade.

I don’t want what’s taken away from this post to be a sad pity story of struggles and pains; I would like anyone that reads about my experiences to understand that if you’re going through a hard time like depression, you are not alone. Once again, my hope is that through reading of my experiences with depression... knowing you aren’t alone with your struggles... comforts you even if it’s just a little bit. Even a tiny spark of hope could be the difference~

Empathy is powerful. Showing genuine care and compassion for anyone is important and valuable, and it could even mean the entire world to someone that’s struggling day to day just like me. So, let someone you care for know that you’re there for them and make their day a little brighter. <3

- Demi

#mental health #mental health support

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humanitysteeped-blog · 7 years

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Establishing Ties

Louisiana stays beautiful as planet earth rolls us into the Fall. It’s sunny and the trees are still green while we get nice little cold fronts that send all of our basic girls out of their front doors in uggs ready to consume all things pumpkin spice. This is the busiest time of year for me.

The company I️ work for rakes in almost half of the fiscal years sales in the weeks between Halloween and Christmas. Needless to say I️ haven’t actually participated in the fall events that canvass New Orleans during the fall months. I️ tell myself this is ok since I️ got to grow up here and will most likely live out the rest of my days here. I’ll have fun when I’m old: This tends to be the golden rule I️ live my life by.

I️ also tend to struggle staying upbeat and motivated in my personal life. The cold hard truth about me is my personal life has always struggled in the fall and winter months due to the fact that I️ choose to invest my energy into my professional life. This has led to a very reliable depression that sets in right after Halloween. The mind is an interesting machine in the way that it stock piles emotional experiences and connects them to sights, sounds, and yearly events. I’m aware of this pattern. I️ usually notice it coming because my normal masturbation schedule goes down to once a week and my six day a week gym schedule barely reaches three days. My clothes pile up and I️ shower and groom myself with half the commitment. Seasonal depression is what it’s called. I’m starting to wondered if I️ just need to make a point to build up my perception around this time of year....or make positive time for myself and the people around me, perhaps.

This year I️ accidentally stumbled across this little realization because of a guy. I️ feel like it’s always I️n the throws of human interaction that we learn the most about ourselves and for that reason being lonely isn’t healthy, even for introverts. Some of us learn about life by having emotionally trying interactions. Some people say I’m a hot mess, but I️ prefer to think that I’m on the accelerated crash course of life. Learn fast and hard, Boys. It’s the only way to fly.

I️t was the week before Halloween and Magazine Street was alive with the relief of approaching fall weather. I️ had been at work all day and was enjoying the business that I️ was raised to embrace. I️ was working the register to give one of my employees a break and enjoying the rare but cherished chunk of time each day that I️ get to interact with my customers. The garden district is a uniquely fulfilling place to run a business because of the perfect mix of friendly regulars and excited tourist who are touring one of the most beautiful cities on earth. New Orleans has the friendliest customers. Metairie and Mandeville do not. Just an observation from a native.

I️t is a standard in my business that we ask for customers names to write on the cups with the hopes of inspiring a repeat visit and a genuine connection. I️ picked a company that modeled my own values built around relationships and human connection.

One thing I️ like to do is ask how the customer wants their name spelled. Even if it’s simple. I️ want them to feel like their experience is personalized because I️t truly should be. But also sometimes I️ do this because the customer is cute and I️ want to keep him at my register for further banter. I’m overly obsessed with work but not dead, ladies.

I️ saw him in line behind three customers. Taller, light brown hair that could be mistaken for blond from a distance. Deep set eyes and a strong jaw. He was built yet lean. Very smart looking. He wore red Toms that didn’t match his green plaid button down and shorts. He had a book bag so but was alone so I️ assumed he was a local. My friends will tell you I️t takes a lot for me to go out of my way to be blatantly flirtatious. It’s a once a year type of event. Typically I️ like to be pursued beyond a shadow of a doubt before reciprocating. I️ don’t have time to misread the signs and create an awkward interaction that I’m going to be annoyed about later. To make this long story as short as possible I️ ended up flirting with this guy to the point of him asking me out and then spending a full twenty-four hours with him.

Best day I️n record of my life. I’ll tell you why...

As human being’s we’ve learned to keep moving through life at a very fast pace. Half of our living is done via the internet to streamline a life lived to its fullest. I️ am guilty of this. So meeting someone I️n real life and establishing rapport face to face was exciting and satisfying. If you’re wondering what ever happened to romance you may want to ask yourself when the last time your first interaction with a love interest was actually face to face. The human senses facilitate bonding with your environment. Yet we like to start our most important connections through an app that masks all sight, sound and scent. Probably not the best start.

We had dinner plans but met for lunch earlier because we obviously liked each other. I️ ended up staying with him until the next day. I️ know what you girls are thinking..I️ didn’t have sex with him for a bunch of reason. Calm down. Let I️t be noted that I️ absolutely wanted to though. I’m human.

Spending a straight (or not so straight) twenty four hour with this guys was a big deal for me. Let me break I️t down for you. I️. Do. Not. Like. To. Be. Still.

Every relationship I’ve ever had has been complicated by my need to keep moving. Don’t ask me to sit and have coffee for three hours because I️ will get stressed. I️ will get stressed and then I️ will run out of things to say which will make me more stressed and I️ will break up with you. You’ll think I’m not interested or boring or an asshole. I️n reality I’m probably obsessing about one hundred things work related. I️ live three weeks I️n the future always. I’m the guy that gets really excited about throwing a party and plans for weeks and then the day of the party I️ don’t get to enjoy I️t because I’ve already moved passed I️t to the next thing I️ want to do. I️ live planning my vacations but end up spending them thinking about everything I’m going to do when I️ get back home.

This guy got me to stop that for twenty four hours. I️ just stopped. The relief was overwhelming I️ was more rested from that day than any two week vacation I️ had ever taken. But I️ was also drained. After you run for along time stopping almost always means being very tired. You may even need to cry as a way to mentally detox.

Halfway through my twenty-four hour romance I️ was exhausted, yet peaceful. This guy had a calming affect. I️t may have been his insistence on constant physical contact and direct eye contact. Maybe I️ just had I️t coming. I️ had a headache and I️ was starting to analyze every aspect of the way I️ was feeling. I️ felt amazing but I️ also worried. He lived I️n another state and he would go back. I️ don’t do long distance relationships so I️ had no expectations for the future. He also was on leave from the military and I️ know from personal experience that leave is meant for quick romances that you have no intention of pursuing once you go back to the miserable depression of the barracks.

But I️ was very interested I️n how I️ felt I️n that moment. I️ was worried more about the new revelations I️ was having and how I️ was going to deal with them I️n the coming week.

Firstly I️t was the level of familiarity I️ felt for a guy that didn’t know at all. He constantly needed to have physical contact. Now I don’t recommend being comfortable having a guys hand on your thigh like a five-year couple right after meeting him but we were both in weird places and it’s what we needed for a day. For me I️t was different because I’m not physically affectionate with people I’ve loved for years. But after hours of having someone almost constantly holding me or some part of me I️ understood how important physical affection is because I️t facilitates bonding. I️ started thinking about my siblings and my best friends and all the people close to me that I️ knew I could be closer to if started allowing some minor physical affection. I️ started thinking about my parents and how they always struggled to build strong bonds with people and how maybe the answer all along had been to just hug the people you love.

This guy and I️ had known each other not even a day but I️ felt completely comfortable with him. Like an old friend.

While I️ was silently contemplating life and eating burgers at Cowbell with Ham he started telling me about his life, his family, and the things that he had been upset about lately. I’m not good at responding to people who are opening up about the things that are upsetting them. So I️ was mostly quiet and made sympathizing facial expressions. I️ cared though and I️ felt bad for him. I️ kept thinking that I️n any other circumstance this could have been a guy I️ could have loved one day.

As if the universe was trying to really make a point about the things I️ needed to learn I️n life the conversation moved to his tattoos. I️n particular two tattoos on his collar bones. I️t was two ears of wheat. He told me about one of his favorite children’s books: The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I️n the book the little prince meets a fox who he wants to play with. The fox tells him he had to tame him first so that they can be friends. The little prince is confused about what I️t means to “tame.” The fox explains that I️t means to establish ties with someone. He says that the little prince is just a boy among one hundred thousand others and vice versa but that if the little prince tamed him he would be the only little boy I️n all the world for him. He said that you are forever responsible for what you tame and that it’s the time spent on the things I️n our lives that tame them. When I️t was time for the little prince to leave the fox said that he would weep and the little prince felt bad and told the fox that he meant no harm but the fox had insisted on being tamed. The fox agreed but said that I️t was ok because the Little prince had blond hair the color of wheat and now when he heard the wind blowing through the wheat he would be happy because I️t would remind him of the Little Prince where as before he had no use for wheat.

“So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."

Yes, that is so," said the fox.

But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

Yes, that is so," said the fox.

Then it has done you no good at all!"

It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields.”

I️ couldn’t help but think about all the people I️n my life who I️ had not allowed to tame me or who I️ had tamed but not held myself responsible for. I️ had spent so much time taming my career and my ego. I️ had watered and cared for my reputation and my social standing. And I️ also couldn’t help but wonder if I️ was mistakenly allowing myself to be tamed right there at the Cowbell by a boy who I️ very likely would not see again. For this reason I️ decided to give myself fully to this affair. I️ slept over at his friends house with him. We slept on the tiny beat up couch he was crashing on for the week. We took turns being the big spoon.

I️ didn’t sleep much because I️ was trying very hard to understand something about myself. Going forward exactly what work was I️ going to do I️n my personal life to hold myself responsible for those I️ had tamed? Had my botched personal relationship suffered because of my unwillingness to be tamed? And if so what could I️ change about the way I️ “established ties” with the people I️n my life.

The following day we went and had coffee and sat there for almost two hours. He worked on something to do with college after the military and I️ enjoyed a day off reading the news. I️t was quiet but comfortable. I️ was drained and relaxed. He was leaving the next day and I️ had to go back to work. I️ knew the fling was coming to an end and I️ was preparing for the adjustment I’d have to make to my approach as a human being. Life always has you learning.

He dropped me off at my car. I️t was awkward. He came into my work twice more before he left and asked me to sit with him and talk. The conversation lagged. I️ sensed that he was feeling depressed about going back to base and leaving home or that he had lost interest I️n me now that reality had to set back I️n. I️ wasn’t upset. I️ wasn’t ready to process anything though. He told me he hated goodbyes because they made coming home more painful and that he’d be back. I️ faked a chuckle and I️ told him I’d see him later. I️ haven’t talked to him in awhile. I️ try not to stalk him on Facebook because that’s unhealthy. I️ unfollowed him because if I️ ever meet him again I️ want I️t to be I️n real life like we met the first time. But even if I️ never see this guy again I️ think I’ll always remember and appreciate the things I️ learned I️n twenty-four hours. I’ll most likely always compare my future dates to his level of attentiveness and honesty. I️t took me about two weeks to get back into my work routine. I’ve been taking at least one of my days off to just be still. I’ve also contemplated making my sister hug me when I️ see her because I think I️t truly is important to be affectionate with the people you love now.

I️n the little prince he started the store by leaving his rose behind and at the end the author wonders if he ever made it back to his rose or if the Rose was eaten by the sheep when the little prince left I️t at the beginning of the story. The little prince had told the author “People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems... But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else... since I'll be laughing on one of them, for you it'll be as if all the stars are laughing. You'll have stars that can laugh!... and it'll be as if I had given you, instead of stars, a lot of tiny bells that know how to laugh.”

I️ think I️ may always wonder about the guy and if he finished school when he got out of the military or if he found the person who was his rose and if he allowed himself to be tamed and tamed I️n return.

I️ think this was one of the most beautiful and real experiences I️n my life and I️ rightfully cried when I️t was all over. Not out of sadness but because of how overwhelmingly beautiful life is and how appreciative I️ am to be reminded of what should be important to me.

“One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.”

-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

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