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#i have been feeling for like a week and am just laying here. suffering. crying every day
hopeled · 2 months
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the power of friendship isn't working anymore i need to kill this motherfucker aka canon point update 2: ordeal call electric boogaloo
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so, on the 20th, OC chapter 2 was released and my god. my god what the fuck man. a lot happened, guda lore was dropped, many tasty stuff and as it's been over a week now and enough translations have come out where i feel comfortable updating her canon point! unlike oc1, she remembers everything that happened with this trial! fun times!
below the cut is just some info in regards to ritsuka/things that happened that could have an effect going forwards so read at your own risk because it is heavy spoilers! i won't be going into detail about every little thing that happened in the chapter, just what's most prevelant for ritsuka. and as always, if spoilers come up in any threads, they will be tagged and placed under a read more if they delve deep into spoiler territory
we got some more family information about her! due to the fact the singularity was built based around her/her memories in order to replicate her hometown and life before chaldea. she had a mother, an aunt from her mother's side, a younger sister, and a father though there seems to be some troubles there in regards to her father due to the fact any mention of him led to tense feelings and changing of the subject (most likely due to the fact he could have been a workaholic or someone strict and expected much of ritsuka). she also had a childhood friend, was friends with some transfer students and a few others in school as well! they're family was also quite well off, given they lived in a house on a corner lot with a veranda and garden
as stated by edmond, due to the events of what happened within the singularity, ritsuka had the potential to turn into an avenger, something which couldn't happen due to the fact they still wanted to save the world without burning everything else and as such, had to undergo seven trials to overcome to hatred and desire to burn everything that existed within her
what kicked off the avenger feelings was finding her mother and sister (both looking like the da vinci's in this place) and her childhood best friend (looking like mashu) murdered inside her own home. let's just say it was not great and she had a horrible time for a bit but it's fine it's f ine
essentially all of this was also a result of edmond doing what he had to in order to root out what the cause of this was from inside of ritsuka and her 'trash heap' (the place where all the grudges, regrets, feelings, etc etc from her journey and encounters with enemies resides)
yeah it was the count who did it! revealed to be alessandro cagliostro, he had actually infiltrated ritsuka's trash heap during the events of heian-kyo after contracting with limbo. in a way easier to understand, that clown passed along a virus that's just been making things worse for her since then! but he's gone now. hopefully.
yeah he also stabbed ritsuka in the heart but she survived thanks to edgy bf's revival np he gave to a servant to hold onto that was with ritsuka
due to the fact that chaldea and ritsuka couldn't prove that avengers were 'necessary' to save humanity to alaya, they had to leave. essentially, be unsummoned and as such, no longer are contracted to chaldea nor ritsuka but because ritsuka didn't want to give them up still, they left behind a shadow of their saint graph to at least provide some power in battle. the servants themselves, however, are gone. edmond, taira, nito alter, hessian lobo, gorgon, salieri, and jeanne alter to be exact (as other avengers don't 'count' due to being summer/event/special cases).
ritsuka is having a HORRIBLE time send help
she did meet haydee as well during all of this, which was neat!
so for awhile, ritsuka will be feeling pretty sad. and angry. and confused. and a lot of emotions that will make it hard to be her usual self but she'll try because really what other choice does she have!!!! and it sucks!!!!!
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
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Sinful voice pt.2 ft “Morax”/Prof!Zhongli + fem!reader (modern AU)
cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral and fingering implied but like it's just fantasizing?? petnames (sweetheart, babygirl, dear) Reader is DOWN BAD LMAO and suffers second hand embarrasment.
notes: EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU @localplaguenurse!!They gave me a F A N T A S T I C idea that just inspired me to continue this wip and ended up not even being featured here yet but HEY... future p3!! //winkwink. That said I did NOT expect how much this would blow up and how ppl loved it and wanted more, y'all gonna make me giddy and/or cry pls (consider checking some of my other stuff too mayhaps? <3) Anyway I REALLY hope this delivers bc boi am I afraid of not meeting expectations vcgvhjbnjnmklal
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Weeks had passed since your ‘big discovery’ and you still weren’t quite sure what to do with this information.
At first you chalked it up to just your imagination because… there was no way, right? Your new professor could just have a… similar voice… yeah… that was it.
Except the more you listened to his long-winded explanations the more you picked up certain words and intonations here and there and you knew you were just fooling yourself.
A lot had happened in these last few weeks, from organizing your new living space, to meeting your roommates, to grocery shopping, classes, and you had even considered the idea of maybe getting a part time job somewhere close by. There were plenty of small shops and places around the college campus neighborhood that not only offered valuable services to poor college students but also the opportunity to make a bit of money to help them out.
It had all been rather exhausting and stressing, exams, essays and projects were already starting too…
Lying back in bed you sigh and roll over, feeling the familiar faint throb of desire pooling between your legs, one you’d never really managed to sate with a person so much as with fantasies. But tonight, as you lay awake in bed aching for your usual touch, you feel conflicted.
Ever since that very first day you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up Morax’s website again. Hell, a new month had rolled over and you’d dutifully paid the subscription along with your other usual bills.
Part of you was itching for it, curious, frustrated.
And very very horny.
Thing is, your fantasies had often featured a faceless man, strong, imposing and dominating, taking you like a blushing maiden and making you beg for the pleasure he’d give, allowing him to do anything he wanted with your heated body. Now that man had a face… your history professor Mr. Zhongli.
You used to get off to imaginings of Morax tying you up and having his way with you, teasing you, fucking you into the mattress and making you cum over and over. Now it was Mr. Zhongli. Polite and courteous Mr. Zhongli with his refined gestures and well-mannered demeanor.
You wanted to cum, to reach that high and come undone and let out all the pent-up stress and frustration until you melted into a puddle and didn’t have to think about classes or money or life anymore, but the second your fingers began to rub at your clit, Mr. Zhongli’s voice would hit you with that even tone he used when scolding someone for gossiping during his lecture.
“Disgraceful behavior…”
A hot flash of shame burned at your face but for whatever reason it just turned you on more. You wanted to get fucked so bad you felt like you were going insane. You wanted that man to pin you up against a wall and thrust inside you until you turned into an incoherent moaning mess. You wanted to get bent over at his desk and filled up with cum until you were left gaping and oozing and told what a good girl you are. You wanted to get fucked on your hands and knees squirming and crying from overstimulation.
Lying in bed, you squeezed a pillow against your face and screamed.
You wanted to fuck your handsome history professor Mr. Zhongli.
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It’s barely first period and you couldn’t concentrate.
You were sleepy, hungry and overall, in a bad mood. Standing in line at the cafeteria for a much-needed morning coffee and some snack you yawn and browse around your phone. Math. Gods you hated math.
At least you didn’t have history today. That was a whole other can of worms.
You figured you’d eventually have to get over it but it was just… so bizarre. Mr. Zhongli was quite the popular teacher, you’d learned. Extremely knowledgeable in various topics, a strict but kind and just teacher and good looking on top of all.
No wonder the upperclassmen flocked around him, probably half the campus lowkey had a crush on him, male and female students alike. It was genuinely a miracle he was not married or even had a significant other apparently.
And he was also Morax. Sensual dominating Morax who would just not leave your head-
“Good morning, how may I help you?” The cashier called out cheerfully and you pulled out of your thoughts.
“Morn-”
“Good morning.”
You gasp so sharply you almost launch into a coughing fit; your eyes widen and whole body tenses and oh shit-
Somehow you manage to trip and fall in the clumsiest, stupidest way possible.
“Woah-!”
“Miss?!”
Except you don’t actually fall, but someone manages to hold you, a hand grabbing your arm and the other pressed against your back steadying you as your poor brain goes into overdrive.
That voice!
It’s him!
Too close!
What is he doing here?!
Way too close!!
The seconds it takes for you to react feel like ages as you stare up at Mr. Zhongli like a deer caught in the headlights.
His hands are warm…
His cologne smells soooo good.
His eyes are gorgeous!
He’s so hot!!
“Are you alright Miss l/n?”
“I’M FINE! I-I’m fine!” You yelp, way louder than intended (or normal) and quickly scoot back to put some distance between yourself and the handsome professor. He picks up his dropped bag and dusts it a little, as well as his clothes, still pristine as ever. “I… think I got a little dizzy s-sorry I haven’t eaten yet and… yeah…” You chuckle nervously.
You see him frown slightly. “Going without food for long periods of time can be quite dangerous.” He states, obviously concerned. “Maybe you should head to the infirmary see Dr Baizhu, you look quite pale and the dizziness could be a symptom of low blood pressure. Do you have anything sugary to eat or drink?”
“I w-was about to buy something…”
“It might be best for you to sit down for the moment.” He nods, resolute. “Allow me.”
…And that’s how you end up sitting at one of the nearby small tables with a little glazed donut and a bottle of water, courtesy of your dear history professor.
You stare at the little treat in your hands, half eaten already as he insisted, at least your hands stopped shaking and some color returned to your face. Mr. Zhongli seemed content enough, sitting across from you.
“T-Thank you.” You mumble, refusing to meet his gaze. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back I have som-”
He sees you rummaging through you bag and raises a hand. “None of that, you needed it. I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better, please take care of yourself, health is very important.”
“Um, ok.”
Then he smiles, and it’s gentle, soft. “You’re Miss l/n, right? One of the new students from my history class?”
Huh?   
“You didn’t do very well on the essay assignment…”
Ack. You sigh and take another bite of the small donut. “History is just… not my strong suit. Too many dates and names to remember.”
He chuckles and oh God who gave him the right to make that sound? Your skin tingles.
“Fair enough. I know my classes can be a little daunting, I’m very particular about certain topics and tend to ramble sometimes. But I can tell you really put effort into classes and pay attention to my lectures.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Let me propose something. I usually impart some private tutoring sessions to students on more advanced levels, but I could make an exception for you. If you have time available it could help lift your grades.”
You stare up at him in surprise, grateful to not have a mouthful of donut or you would have probably choked again like an idiot. Did you hear that right? A private tutoring session after hours at his office?!
Now that sounded like a title for one of Morax’s audios: Hot professor bangs his stu-NOPE.    
“I-I’ll think about it! Sure.”
He nods and gets up, sparing a glance at his watch. “I have to leave now, please do consider it. And do try to eat at more regular intervals and take better care of yourself, you look quite tired.”
A polite way of saying you had marked eyebags, yep.
“I’ll try.” You mumble. Suddenly a little sad to see him go. “Professor… thank you.”
There’s that smile again, you could melt. “You’re welcome, my dear.”
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And yet that night, you’re once again rolling in bed unable to sleep.
My dear.
You couldn’t stop thinking on the whole incident, you’d certainly made a fool of yourself but the memory of his strong arms holding you, touch firm but gentle. The scent of his cologne that you wish had clung more on your clothes.
You really were down bad, this is ridiculous…
You bite your lip.
You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.
Oh but you will, just one wouldn’t hurt.
Quite the opposite actually…
Unable to contain yourself (or your horniness) you take no time to pop in your earbuds and start scrolling. Hmm… there had been a couple new additions in these last weeks.
You can’t help but wonder why he does these. When. How. You never really considered or thought on it before, Morax has quite a lot of patrons (not a surprise) and thought you know nothing about sound and video recording or editing technically he’s making money just by using that honeyed velvet voice of his. That had to bring in some cash, right?
But then again, if you knew anything about these types of subscriptions it was that they required constancy and that meant hard work and dedication. Did he enjoy these? He really puts in the effort given the amazing quality…
You can’t help but picture your handsome professor unwinding a little after a long day, casual clothes, a cup of that tea he loves and setting up to record those dirty words and sinful moans.
Did he sometimes get worked up about these too? Did he also touch himself during or after recording a particular scenario? Sitting back slightly sprawled on the chair, brow slightly furrowed, stroking his co-   
Aaahhhh you needed to stop thinking on him.
Yeah right.
“Daddy eats you out and prepares you for his big cock.”
Well, this looks promising.   
The audio starts like many others, with some dialogue from him and setting the scene and oh… you had kind of missed the playful teasing tilt of Morax’s voice. You can’t help but chuckle lightly, this scene is so domestic. He calls you “sweetheart”, “babygirl” and there are the kissy noises.
You wish you could kiss him…
“Hmmm… daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready. Spread your legs for me.” Oh, you certainly do. “Daddy’s gonna get down here between them.”
You rub at your tights slowly, sensual, remembering his larger hands.
“Oh your little pussy is already so wet and swollen.” Morax coos, voice soft and airy. “You think it’s already ready I know.” He chuckles. “But you know daddy’s cock is big, yeah, your little pussy’s gonna need to stretch a little bit hm?” A kiss.
You whine.
“Shhh daddy’s gonna make you feel so good sweetheart.”
Lewd wet noises invade your ears and you waste no time starting to stroke yourself, slow and tender. He groans and sighs and you whimper, hips jolting from the bed.
Gods how was he so…
“Yeah… nice and gentle hmm, we’re gonna have so much fun.”
His words were a complete 180 from the long lectures about politics and wars, and yet, his voice…
“D-Daddy…” You sigh. “Please!”
“Oh I love how sensitive your little clit is… you like that babygirl?”
You rub and stroke at the little bundle of nerves and see stars already.
You were so pent up, so needy. Your orgasm was already building too quickly, mewling and whining at his words, his noises, trying to match the pace and follow his instructions.
“That’s a good girl.”
“F-Fuck-”
Your eyebrows furrow, your body trembles and you bit your lip to contain your noises. Morax warns you when he adds a finger, and after a few seconds another, chuckling low at how you clench, praising you, coaxing out your pleasure.
You can only picture him at the end of the bed, licking and sucking obscenely at your juices, pumping those slender fingers in and out, in and out…
That tantalizing voice teasing you, your fingers knotting that dark brown hair tipped amber, golden eyes staring up at you half-lidded but feral and fascinated. Focusing on you. Only you.
“A-Ah! Mhmm…”
“Now I want you to cum babygirl come on, in five… four…”
You stroke and pump faster, frantic, lost in that rapidly approaching high.
“Three… two…”   
You cry out, a spark cursing through your veins.
“One… hmmm that’s it my dear.”
“Z-Zhongli…!”
He ushers you out of your release with soft words before saying something else, but your mind is floating and hazy. Your take off the earbuds and place them away catching your breath for a moment, arm draped over your face, the audio still has a long way to go but you’re drowsy and sleepy so you decide to call it a night.
It is only a little later, once you’re done with a quick cleaning and putting everything away, curled up under the covers and dozing off that you realize…
Shit.
You’d called not for Morax but Zhongli.
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emsgoodthinkin · 5 months
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As long as I’m with You
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Steve Harrington x You (short)
Summary: Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had this week
Warnings: hurt/comfort, talks of poor physical and mental health, doctors, suicidal ideation, medication use, drug use, chronic health issues, BPD if you squint, disabilities, use of the word “girl” x times, negative self talk, mentions of sex, angst, fluff~~
This is based off my own experiences and inspired by my pal Morgan’s version; feel free to check hers out
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Tick tick tick
The clock strikes 12 and then 1, 3, 5am in the morning, no sleep no rest it’s an every day cycle. The same shitty cycle.
It’s a new year, but not a new you.
Sitting in your walker in front of the excruciatingly bright television screen, high as a kite, everything in existence running through your mind 100 mph, sometimes the weed helps the pain. Sometimes it induces it or even makes it worse. Right now it’s doing nothing for you. Looking over at your loved one sound asleep. You don’t want to bother him with your whines or crying. So you just sit there silence, tears rolling down your cheeks; while you watch some bullshit on YouTube.
Sniff Sniff
“Baby?”
Shit.
“..yea?” you say in a whispered tone
“Are you ok? what’s wrong?”
“Ah, you already know”, you’ve used that line probably over a million times
Steve comes along your side expecting a few dried tears, but his eyes widen when he’s sees the collar around your shirt bitten, snot dribbling down your mouth and throat, crouching down, he lies his head onto your thigh looking up at you, “Talk to me sweetheart”
“No.”
“Hey, I know you’re hurting”—
“GOOD FOR YOU! Congratulations you know I’m hurting, you know I’ve been hurting for fucking years. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged it unlike some people”you sniffle getting up in a hurry to take a piss as he follows with sad eyes leaning against the door frame
“I’m fucking tired, I’m so goddamn exhausted nobody will ever know what I’m dealing with!”, you say wiping your ass not bothering to wash your hands, “I can’t do anything I can’t run, I can’t jump, can’t go to the stupid, fucking grocery store without one of those motorized carts.. my back hurts, my fucking knees are throbbing, stupid fucking nerves won’t calm down FUCK! It’s not like I can get in the bathtub to calm my muscles down. Nothing is helping! No medication, no PT, no injections, no nothing! Why?? am I just resistant to any source of help or treatment? I-I can’t even lay in the goddamn bed to sleep. That’s all I have left is rest!! What is rest!? I don’t know what the hell that even is”
“I know baby I know”—
“NO YOU DONT STEVE, all you know is what you see. I wouldn’t wish on our worst enemy, my worst enemy to feel what I feel. That’s how bad it all hurts. The most evil, sick and twisted person in this world, I would never wish this upon. I just..”, getting dizzy you collapse on the bed sobbing into your own hands, then eventually into Steve’s shoulder as he rocks you, tears spilling from his own eyes—
“Nobody cares, nobody wants to help me. nobody cares unless I’m rich and can afford to give them any and ALL the things off my back, but I can’t. Even with the money you make it will never be enough to help the poor girl who’s too young to have any kind of issue. It’s “all in my head” I’m just fucking crazy. I could break my own neck and still be told it’s only from anxiety. Nobody cares just”—
“I care” he exhales
“It doesn’t matter if you care, all your care is useless, all your help is worthless to me because it gets me nowhere. Nobody’s love and care gets me nowhere. It’s nothing all but fucking false hope. Don’t you get that? None of you still to this day seems understand that. Stop praying for me to get better. It’s never going to happen. I can’t take it anymore.. I just wanna die! All I wish for is to die but, I can’t even have that. It’s like all of you want me here, to live and suffer for the rest of my life for y’all, it’s not fair, fuck that”, your trembling, body in fight or flight
“Don’t say that, you know I’d do anything to take your pain away”
“It doesn’t matter what you’d do because you’re not a doctor. You’re not a professional, you can’t help me get better.. sucks to hear but it’s the truth Steve..fuck”—
Steve’s really trying not to beat himself up over your words, he knows you’re in pain, it comes from a place of anger, frustration and fear
“I have all these pain medications I could easily take all at once, so I’ll never have to wake up in this position ever again. Why can’t I do it huh? I could end right here right now you never have to suffer again, but I just d-don’t; If anything, I’m the most selfless person for staying alive for YOU just so I can be alive but in pain all over again for YOU!”, your tone getting higher and higher in pitch
“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I knew the right words to say baby”, he’s trying his best to stay strong for you
“You’ve got to be sick of me, tired of me. All I do is cause more money to come out of your pockets, more exhaustion, more burdening, more crying, more everything bad for you. You already deal with your own shit. I do nothing but make your own mentality worse, hell you’re making your own self worse being with a person like me. A broken and useless excuse of a human being. You deserve somebody who can go hiking with you, go to the beach, travel with, who can do the bare minimum. Can’t even fuck you properly—
“STOP! Stop that right now” he shouts
You freeze because he’s never raised his voice at you, atleast not on purpose at such a vulnerable time
“I hate it too. You know it hurts me to know that you hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t take the pain away from you. My sweet, sweet girl I’m so sorry that nobody has given you the chance to hear your voice, to help heal you..but I’m gonna make you the same promise I make you almost every single night. As long as I’m with you, I will try my best with all my power to make it a little bit more bearable for you to be here, and I am so grateful that you are still here and choose to be here with me for us to be together. I know you hurt, but as long as you’re with me, I’m going to do my best to put a smile on your pretty face, beautiful sunshine of a smile because you’re my sunshine.. y-your smile gives me life did you know that?”
You nod. He tells you all the time
“I- I’m tired for wishing to feel ok for my birthdays, every Christmas. All the shirts and posters you got me for Christmas? I haven’t even touched them yet, you know why? Because the selfish person in me doesn’t give a fuck about none of it. The only thing I care about and want and NEED is pain relief and that’s too much to ask for isn’t it? Apparently wanting to be better in the world it’s too much to ask for”
“You deserve to feel better”, he says while his hand travels up your back to rub your tense neck, “You deserve to be free from all of this and I can’t give that to you. You’re not selfish baby you’re hurting. I love you for you. I knew what I was signing up for, and if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t be here right now with you. I know the sacrifices Ill have to make, the tears I’ll have to shed, the strength it’ll take me to pick you up when you’re down, but I fell in love with you, how you are, and who you are”
“Who are you kidding Steve, you don’t even know who I am. The real me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wish you met me when I wasn’t sick then maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed out a-and.. and,” you start sobbing again, it’s all too overwhelming
“Hey, hey look at me, no. I met you at the right time. You need me just as much as I need you. You may not think you’re worth nothing but you’re worth everything to me. Yeah you have a good and bad days..—
“I’ve had nothing but bad days for the past few months Steve”-
“I know, I see it, I hear it and I witness it, I may not can feel it, but at the end of it all, you still love me. You’re still here. You still want to cook for me. You still get up to brush your teeth and I’m so proud of you for still trying to care for yourself. That’s the biggest job you’ll ever have, and it’s been a very hard job hasn’t it?
You nod, as he nods with you
“Yeah, it has, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to provide for you. I want to take care of you. You’re my girl, you deserve so much and as long as I’m with you, I will try every day, every hour, every second or minute, to make sure you know how loved, how great and how amazing you are. How great and amazing you’re doing for yourself and for me. How strong you are”—
—“im tired of having being strong all the time”, interrupting him
“I know you are. You are so strong for being on this earth, even when you don’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask for anybody else, you’re it for me always. Will you continue to let me try to make it better for you every day? To take care of you?”, he squats in front of you, cupping your wet cheeks, kissing your forehead
“But Stevie.. you know you’re getting your own hopes up because nothing you do helps either and I feel like a piece of shit for saying that because”—
“I know what you mean, you don’t have to be sorry. I understand you may not have hope but I do. All my Hope goes towards you and it always will. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m not gonna give up on you, on me or on us, ok sunshine?”
..”okay”, you repeat rubbing your temples
“Head hurt, darling?”
“yes”
“From crying too hard?”
You nod, looking away in shame, “It’s okay, I’ll get your Migrane cap from the freezer and i’ll set your pillows up how you like, just sit tight”, he says it standing then pausing at the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “I love you”
“luv you—
“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you” he exclaims
“I said love you gosh.. shut up”, you barely crack a smile
That was enough to get him through the rest of the night.
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katiascraft · 2 years
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[ when you're away ]
Plot: you and Evan are away from each other because of his job. And you love to write cute notes and letters to your loved ones so you write him a letter (nowadays sent through messages app)
Word count: 757
Warnings: not proofread, pure fluff, mention of dissociative disorder, comments of sadness and triggering behavior (briefly) and I think that's it.
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Note: I hope you like it. It is my first writing post sooo I'm nervous but I hope you like it! Every comment and suggestion it's welcome 💗 comment if you wanna even's answer :3 ok, bye.
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I wasn't feeling really good. It's been 3 weeks since I last have seen Evan at the airport. I didn't know this time it was gonna be so hard on my mental health. I miss him so much. And at the same time, I just feel so grateful to be with him, to know the great person he is and the way he loves people. He is so amazing. He has helped so much since the beginning even without knowing about it. I needed to do something about all of these thoughts and feelings because I will go crazy.
And so I did.
I wrote him a letter. The best thing I know.
Dear Thomas,
I have really bad anxiety. I guess life can never be okay with me. I have to struggle with anything. I have to suffer. And cry and scream sometimes. It's hard to sleep every night with this knot in my stomach that never goes away. I think I miss you and I hug my pillow and it's not the same. I have one of my ambient playlist on youtube with emotional music that I don't know if my heart is happy or agonizing in aching. I've never felt or written anything like this. I remember your face and those little and beautiful spots in both cheeks. Your eyes laying on mine like no one did before. Like I am something really important for you. I don't know what you do to me. But I want to be better, for me. I'm tired of crying and not understanding life, people, situations, places, myself.
I know I will always carry this weight, this cursed on my brain. All the things it makes me believe. Maybe I will never find peace and I will never be happy. But I know at least that I want to be better and that maybe I can be better. At least just a little. I wanna make you happy and I want to feel good with you. I want to heal. But it was so hard. All of my ex lovers left me because they couldn't carry me, I was too obsessed with them. Because my cry is ugly, because I shake and break things. because I moan while we have sex. Because I wanna feel beautiful and I don't care about anybody elses perspective on it. Because I gave presents out of nowhere and beacause I can be kissing you all day. And be cause may be I gave them too much of me until I felt guilty. They feel scared. So they ran away. Just like I always do from my problems, my traumas, my well being. But with you I feel it's different. I'm being romantic and I used to hate it. Fuck me.
And here I am writing you a letter like the hopeless romantic I am. Because I love the old ways too. To me, those are the better ways. Because I like the thought that in 30 years you will find this piece of paper and you will remember u. I don't know if we'll still be together. I don't know if I will be in this world. Or with you. But I like that idea. Because I could never feel anything but pain and guilt, shame and anxiety. I always lived frozen. But I think now it's different.
I'm melting. You're building a new me. You're taking care of the garden full of flowers that I can be. And I like it. I don't know why you love me or why you see me as the best thing that ever happened to you. I don't know if it's the astros or the psychological tests or our energy or just destiny. And for the first time I don't care. We don't need to know why. Being there is enough reason to stay. And thank you for that.
I ran out of words to say to you.The dissociative me makes it hard to follow through. But at least I tried it. I hope someday I will be able to tell you all I feel right away. But for now maybe this is it.
There is a lot of things unsaid, that I feel deep in my heart that I just can't seem to put it in words now.
I love you and that I will always be here for you.
Love, y/n <3
When I finished the letter I didn't even read it. I just needed to send it to him. Like I was feeling desperate. And nervous. I was so anxious. It still being hard for me to talk about my feelings and thoughts openly to people but I try with him. Because he's magical - I can with him. And to me that means the entire world. I don't know where I would be without him. He is my angel.
_______________________________________________
Final note: I'm so excited for this new journey wtitting. I hope you like it and if so comment, reblog or like please 💗🙏🏼 i'm not a native English speaker so sorry if some things are weird, I'm trying my best and always trying to improve!
Hope you have a wonderful day ❤️
80 notes · View notes
ideks-on-mars · 2 years
Note
hey bbgs it's me back again with a request
period headcanons for trans kings shirabu and yamagata ?? my period just started and i am suffering. hard.
anyways yeah just give me your thoughts
I'VE GOT YOU BABES good thing I just changed my pf theme to red, huh? ✋️💀
ANYWAYS TRANS! SHIRABU AND YAMAGATA + REONSEMISHIRA AND KAWAGATA PERIOD HCS LET'S GO!!!
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- Yamagata's are the absolute WORST
- Shirabu's are pretty intense. But Yamagata's? Fully convinced that his period is gonna kill him one day
- BUT WE DON'T COMPARE PAINS HERE BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT PERIODS ARE ALWAYS HELL
- ANYWAYS
- They both wanna DIE it's just a fact
- Yamagata is starring at the clock, WAITING for the 6 hour mark to hit so he can take another painkiller cuz let's be honest, those things wear out at like 5 hours, 30 minutes
- They run out of products? They don't need to worry, not one bit
- Why?
- Because they either, borrow from each other
- Or two, send their respective boyfriends to the store (who have their sizes AND favorite brands MEMORIZED and WRITTEN in their notes. They're top tier men)
- They sit down, eat pizza, and suffer together cuz that's what real friends do ✋️😔
- They watch movies and huddle under blankets
- When everyone else is being irritating, they go to each other. They just really don't feel like dealing with people who don't understand
- They use heating pads for their stomachs and they are SO COMFY
- Just plug them bad boys into the wall and you are SET
- From personal experience 💀
- They're not exactly criers..? Well Yamagata kinda is. But Shirabu? If he's gonna cry it's gonna be silent and privately
- Practice is HELL
- Idk if anyone reading this has been to sports practice while you're on your period but leMME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS SHIT-
- GOD you are DYING
- You're hot, you're sweating, and if you wear a pad it's rubbing up against your sweaty thighs and may rub them raw. Like it is TROUBLESOME
- Wow, natural hate crimes, am I right?
- Now for a little bit of shippy stuff 🤭 nothing like fluffy stuff on shark week, ya know?
- Kawanishi ABSOLUTELY lays his head on Yamagata's stomach during his period. The slight pressure helps, plus his tummy is warm from the heating pad
- Semi and Reon surround Shirabu on his week because it keeps him warm. And idk what it is about being warm on the week, but it's just nice
- Yamagata's mood swings are pretty intense. During the first few times, Kawanishi is TERRIFIED that he'll make one wrong move and Yamagata will get upset ✋️😭
- ReonSemi have mastered the art over some time 💀 that in no way means they're perfect. They (*cough cough* SEMI *cough cough*) still set Shirabu off from time to time. (And it's not fun at ALL)
- Them being trans, I'm not completely sure whether they'd change in the locker room or just in the bathroom normally. But during their week they DEFINITELY change in the bathroom.
- Sets off a lot of body dysmorphia problems. Good thing they have each other to cry about it to 😪🤧
- OK THANK @yoom-ss FOR THIS SCENARIO 💀
- Ok,, but Shirabu stuck in the bathroom, NO PRODUCT
- He asks Yamagata for one but the mf doesn't have any either ✋️😭
- SO WHAT DOES HE DO? 🤔
- It's one of three things
- He 1) Sprints to the closest convenient store 😪
- 2) Throws some money at one of his TEAMMATES and makes THEM run to the store
- Or 3) runs around asking girl students for product ✋️😭
- I JUST WANNA SAY A+ SENIOR
- Shirabu gets his products in the end thanks to local super senior Yamagata 😪
- Before practices (especially practice matches) they usual take a painkiller in advance so that by the time practice comes it would have kicked in
- Shirabu probably reads a lot during his period. He doesn't feel like sitting at his desk he usually studies at, nor does he feel like studying at all. So he likes to just read, watch TV, or play on his phone
- Yamagata just lazes around, stuffing his face and watching whatever. (That's ok, he deserves it. Plus I do the same thing)
- Yamagata's go to "I'm dying" outfit is black sweats and a t-shirt/hoodie
- Shirabu's is some comfy shorts and a t-shirt/sweater/hoodie
- KawaGata usually orders a fuck ton of food and by the end they have a buffet. They eat it happily cuz damn periods suck and Kawanishi wants to see his boyfriend happy
- ReonSemi probably over worry 💀
- "Are you ok?" "Are you comfortable?" "Do you need something? Some painkillers? Some water? Anything?" "You know we'll get you Anything right-" "YES. I AM FINE."
- They're trying their best ✋️💀
- It's ok if they're suffering, because at least they can suffer together by crying on the couch with a bag of chips 😪
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Text
Kolyskova - Valya Levchenko
@vale.levchenko
All proceeds from music platforms will go to @helpinmukachevo foundation - shelter for Ukrainian orphans from the war zone
Spotify link
What We Could Have Been - Sting, Ray Chen
My most devastating song…and my current answer to the searching question of pt 1
…justice, hope, love…really?
Spotify link
I am the monster you created
You ripped out all my parts
And worst of all, for me to live, I gotta kill the part of me that saw
And I needed you more
I hope you know we had everything
When you broke me and left these pieces
I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and
I want you to lose like I lose when I play
What could have been
Why don’t you love who I am?
What we could have been
I am your ghost, a fallen angel
You ripped out all my parts
I couldn’t care what invention you made me
‘Cause I, I was meant to be yours
Full song in profile
(Arcane - amazing animated series on Netflix. This is the final song of series 1) Could Have Been - Sting, Ray Chen
Lonesome Tears - Beck
god, and cancer, and paralysis, and mind-numbing fear…pt 2
Still waiting for the Justice, and Hope, and Love
I suspect you know the struggle in your own ache and suffering to glimpse the above…it’s hard
Lonesome tears
I can't cry them anymore
I can't think of what they're for
Oh they ruin me every time
But I'll try
To leave behind some days
These tears just can't erase
I don't need them anymore
How could this love
Ever turning
Never turn its eye on me
How could this love
Ever changing
Never change the way I feel
Lazy sun
Your eyes catch the light
With promises that might
Come true for awhile
Oh I'll ride
Farther than I should
Harder than I could
Just to meet you there
If You Want Me - Röyksopp
God, and Cancer, and Paralysis, and Mind-Numbing Fear…pt 1
The topics of ‘theós’ (god), immanent agency, Nick Cave’s ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’ (from ‘Into My Arms’), and all sorts of other stuff, have raised their heads for me since I was about 9/10yo. I was brought up in a ‘belief’ in an interventionist God, and that has shaped me for good or for ill. Yet ‘belief’ doesn’t cut it for me now - either for nor against (G)god.
I guess I am something of an ‘experientialist’ by disposition, experience, and practice. And I don’t have any answers or experiences of the god question (sigh of relief - no preachy moments!). Yet my body’s in pain, and I’m scared. And I find I’m still out there searching, although my stamina is rapidly waning.
These songs over the next 3-part series are me crying out for justice, and hope, and love.
And if you don’t resonate with this at all, they’re still cool songs!
Spotify link
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - Roberta Flack
…purity…Just…purity
We begin the last of the ‘After Dark’ series.
…late night (exquisite) tunes…drink and a watch…cosy outfit
Spotify link
Unforgettable - Nat King Cole
Those who are far, and unforgettable, I wish you were near.
This song is for you
…late night tunes…drink and Tudor watch…cosy outfits
Spotify link
Lay it Down - Al Green
Relax and unwind - a new series begins!
“Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place, if you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!
- Stop.
- Lay It Down…Let it Go…Fall in Love
Spotify link
Sigur Rós - Svo hljótt
Sigur Rós didn’t play this song at the concert, but it spoke to me over the week. Hope is a deeply human thing, carrying burdens and hurts and reshaping them…if left in the right hands they spur on discovery of Life. This song is about my Hope
Spotify link
So quiet
I leaned on you, in silence
All remained still, and you
You sang to me, so quietly
You sang to me, so quietly
In the moonlight I can see you lying face down
In the moonlight you become blue twilight
So I thank you for the hope you gave
So I thank you for hope ...
Harry Conick jr - Come by Me
This song should be your Monday morning coffee. And I think it suits the suit outfit theme (2 suits to go). I really really miss playing the piano - I’m sick of all this bittersweet
https://open.spotify.com/track/6VyJaIhHbPYLf5R24IUf3h?si=gZU_N4ANS9uTlaOI99-jkw
https://tidal.com/track/177947
Billie Holiday - Willow Weep for Me
This song comes from my second favourite Billie Holiday album (#1 Lady in Satin)
True blues give us so much, and the queen Billie…the one who more than any other deserves the title the ‘aching and suffering visionary’…poured herself out so that we might mourn too. Please join with me as you listen to the full song…I need you people. (Also, I think this song goes with the outfit coming up…)
https://open.spotify.com/track/4W6g5kfwp0LVBFauBSdx08?si=ZC2u9LSzRMObWP3yNFMxgg
https://tidal.com/track/93057551
Mercedes Benz - Janis Joplin
Whichever ’lord’ you follow, be it some immanent/transcendent being through to yourself following your heart, brain cancer will mess with your categories. This searing song by Janis Joplin, heard through the cancer lens particularly, calls into stark relief my beliefs about myself and my place in this cosmos. Maybe it will for you in your world 🤷‍♂️…Or just laugh at the silly song and go have a croissant 🤣
https://open.spotify.com/track/1MntHPLU1T7a9W4tojbg8g?si=5M_GATa4Tay25DCIPIyYiA
https://tidal.com/track/1842011
The Blues Brothers, Ray Charles
After the weight of last week and it’s music…Jake and Elwood!! And Ray Charles ‘supporting’ 😉 Let your hair down tonight! (Or whenever you listen)
https://open.spotify.com/track/4L2laOh04x7g7WjEtY8PkZ?si=R1H1BQTyRKa6locauZ60fQ
https://tidal.com/track/7430221
My Struggles…
I couldn’t choose between these songs, they both accompanied me this week. So you get both
If I Believe You - The 1975
https://tidal.com/track/146165655
https://open.spotify.com/track/6cQ4bLtHOL6AfDV68wDrqf?si=UBdHy8s9TRiKoGf3BIcavg
When It’s Cold I’d Like To Die - Moby, Mimi Goese
https://tidal.com/track/10902990
https://open.spotify.com/track/6sOx5jDVKkQCQp3NfCTd52?si=WDfg26m9ToKpMBZgBILu6A
If I believe you
I've got a God-shaped hole
That's infected
And I'm petrified of being alone, now
It's pathetic, I know
And I toss and I turn in my bed
It's just like I lost my head (Lost my head)
And if I believe you
Will that make it stop?
If I told you I need you
Is that what you want?
And I'm broken and bleeding
And begging for help
And I'm asking you, Jesus, show yourself
I thought I'd met you once or twice
But that was just because the dabs were nice and opening up my mind
Showing me consciousness is primary in the universe
And I had a revelation
I'll be your child, if you insist
I mean, if it was you that made my body
You probably shouldn't have made me atheist
But, oh, I'm a lesbian kiss, I'm an evangelist
And if you don't want to go to hell, then, Miss
You better start selling this
If I'm lost then how can I find myself?
When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die
Where were you when I was lonesome?
Locked away with freezing cold
Someone flying, only stolen
I can't tell, this night's so old
I don't wanna swim the ocean
I don't wanna fight the tide
I don't wanna swim forever
When it's cold I'd like to die
What was that, my sweet, sweet nothing?
I can't hear you through the fog
If I holler, let me go
If I falter, let me know
Richard Strauss - Morgen! (Christine Schäfer)
https://open.spotify.com/track/06OVBfoBPjIpOAGXfgQyRY?si=3puErjfNQLqRLZCDrs3kyw
https://tidal.com/track/4417534
This was hard to post. This was the first music track with voice I was able to listen to in isolation in rehab when dealing with deep trauma. The words and music are very important to me.
Tomorrow!
And tomorrow the sun will shine again
and on the way that I will go,
she will again unite us, the happy ones
amidst this sun-breathing earth,
and to the beach, wide, wave-blue
will we still and slowly descend
silently we will look in each other's eyes
and upon us will sink the mute silence of happiness
Ben Lukas Boysen
https://open.spotify.com/track/2ioGZqOFVp7lBaRSuV4UUV?si=eCjUN39fT-6x7zBLZzTprw
https://tidal.com/track/103317640
This track evokes in me the reckless grace that aching and suffering visionaries desperately need. I know there are a lot of you who are aching and suffering visionaries. Let’s do this together
Becca Stevens | Attacca Quartet
https://open.spotify.com/track/10FcR0MeTO9bILrvFndpCG?si=6Tm_BzzCR3CrpjjEIHhaQg
https://tidal.com/track/172634270
What does cancer feel like?…for me at this time, it feels like every aspect of this song - from the cancer to paralysis to mind churning fear. I’m going in to the hospital today for another set of treatment, with not a hope that it will cure, but hopefully extend. I find it hard to get my head around…
…But thanks to the sublime Becca Stevens (@beccastevensbsb) and the Attacca Quartet (@attaccaquartet) who just ‘get’ it…your skills, passion, and hard work made a profound difference in my life this week. I’m truly grateful. Hopefully I’ve put some folk onto your artistry via the link…
AA Milne, The Muppets, & Amy Lee
https://open.spotify.com/track/7ulVGXRF3IPfJjIBcEGdBs?si=kPOS3sOLTTG7xrUvjpYtMw
https://tidal.com/track/36771638
This multifaceted cancer journey is a weird one for me…and the emotional and mental aspect of it sometimes leaves me in a ‘non-place’
This song captures that part of my life today…and the fact that it is associated with the Muppets and A.A. Milne is just the icing 😉 Anyone resonate with the ‘non-place’?
Ukrainian Youth Ensembles
https://tidal.com/track/91344618
https://open.spotify.com/track/6G3LetC9p8ravz4ijw81yw?si=fQQ8u5s-QheNoz9wDj5QRg
This is an opportunity to stand with a very special woman in horror and hope as a refugee and aid worker who escaped from Kyiv.
This song is the ‘second anthem’ of Ukraine and is the hope of grace amidst the powers that seek to destroy.
Prayer for Ukraine - Bozhe Velikiy Yedynyi (1885). Mykola Lysenko
Lord, O the Great and Almighty, 
Protect our beloved Ukraine, 
Bless her with freedom and light 
Of your holy rays. 

With learning and knowledge enlighten 
Us, your children small, 
In love pure and everlasting 
Let us, O Lord, grow. 

We pray, O Lord Almighty, 
Protect our beloved Ukraine, 
Grant our people and country 
All your kindness and grace. 

Bless us with freedom, bless us with wisdom, 
Guide into kind world, 
Bless us, O Lord, with good fortune 
Forever and evermore (For MD)
The Sundays
https://tidal.com/track/10839902
https://open.spotify.com/track/4WrYLfuJg2wNLwvSRHZwxl?si=BjywAdWFRHKpUIrb3YSjPg
John Coltrane
https://tidal.com/track/77609733
https://open.spotify.com/track/5FLQmLjjeNIuC8U5mDnXC8?si=livCrsTzRaOl_hPDfaWgmg
Son Lux
https://tidal.com/track/57307135
https://open.spotify.com/track/2WjApvnb29WtPGRtki1kMB?si=MukPmu48T5CveqxjyTKdxw
Arvo Pärt
https://tidal.com/track/17485779
https://open.spotify.com/track/4wudbbceOZKjRlhTtbHvAs?si=rl3kScg1QN-uMZOzEo3Jow
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abishekmuses · 2 months
Text
Dear Nastya,
I've been on this streak of writing something everyday - I intended for this to be a forcing function for me to start putting words down and kickstarting a writing habit.
I've been at it for a while now- close to a month I think. It's been good. But I also realise how I don't have as much to say as I thought I did. Sometimes I do and I write them down. but most of the time, I'm thinking about optimising my own life - I'm trying to make sense of what I want - what I don't want. I am trying to get myself out of some mindfuck or some emotional tangle.
Not that those posts from like a month ago were actually literary gold but I at least managed to find something that could be put up on a blog post. Now, it feels like I'm running dry - but I guess that's where this exercise of writing every day no matter what is going to pay off.
I hope so anyway.
Today, as I sat down to write, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write about - just didn't feel like there was anything I wanted to say to myself. Also wasn't feeling like writing for ONiO (which would satisfy the conditions to mark today as done, writing wise.
So i figured I'd write to you. See if that makes it easier for the words to flow out - and here they are - the words do seem to be flowing out.
So, what do I want to say to you? First of all, I really hope your kidneys are doing fine and you're doing fine as a whole. I thought of something happening to you a couple of days ago and the thought was so scary it made me cry. I miss you a lot sometimes.
In the beginning, I was super occupied - very "highway to the danger zone", "eye of the tiger" kinda vibe - was in a go getter flow. Just doing things all the time and wondering why i don't have more time to do more things.
And then slowly but surely, the emotions came. In the beginning I was still rolling and thought "meh this is easy; I just lean into these feelings and i'm releasing a ton of stuff" - turns out i was stupid. the shit really started after MSR and velliangiri trek - some of those days were fucking hectic nastyush.
I was thinking the other day - funnily enough, in the beginning, when i was in a monastic zone and then later when i was in a properly "suffering" kinda state, I didn't think of you or miss you much. But when I got into the zone where I was filled with a lust for life and wanted to do this and that, I suddenly started missing you a lot and wanted to hang out really bad.
Sometimes I wonder what the hell we're doing with our lives if we can't even hang out with our favourite people - it's something i've been thinking about recently. Community is super important - we both know it - why not double down and invest in keeping it together?
Easier said than done I know - where would we do it blab blah I know - BUT IT SUCKS THOUGH!!!!!!!
Just checked on FB to make sure you're alive.
right now, i'm filled with a lot of emotions for some reason. Don't know why. I feel lost sometimes and cry a lot. But then I remind myself that this is me coming out of the mess - not getting into a new one.
I"ve been thinking a lot about the past. About Ukraine. About all those years. I still can't stop crying when I think about that time. But slowly I'm getting to a place where I am finding myself better oriented in the present.
Journaling is a good thing apparently - i can see why. I'm glad I started journaling again.
I fucked up my back Nastyush. Hate to complain but at this point I'm just writing this to myself so what the hell. So no getting hot for now. Has to wait. it's been really frustrating but I hope it gets better soon. I'm forcing myself to rest and not do anything for now. today, i thought i did "rehab" and even that was too much by the looks of it. Need to lay totally low again for a few days.
I wonder what you're upto with life these days. It feels so long ago that I spoke to you although it was only 7 weeks ago. 5 more weeks to go.
At various points in this period, there's a part of me that wants to just carry on like thise for a good while - like 3 years. Maybe that's not realistic or practical i don't know. Definitely in the early days, I felt like this was it - like all this time in life was just to come to this stage where you realise "oh fuck I need to do sadhana and get out of this" lol something like that.
Can't relate to that now. I'm in a totally different mindspace. I feel like hugging you and crying nastyush. I didn't realise it until I started writing this to you. Even writing this makes me feel cared for and loved in some way. I don't know if that makes sense.
0 notes
spookylair · 6 months
Text
11/11/23, 3am
you’re a drumbeat in the back of my brain
two syllables, repeating: rolling off my tongue
in those moments where I forget I am alive
your name, your voice, your hands
the warmth of you, dissipating into open air–
(did they catch your blood, hold it in?
did they succeed in leading you home?)
we were two lost souls
swimming in our little circles
and I can’t tell anyone
who knew you & of you
what hell I’m in, here
grief is so intimate
so isolating
I’m alone in this
(you’re gone)
it’s been three weeks
and I’m only halfway here
breathing and eating and walking
while you’re miles and hours and lifetimes
away, some indecipherable chasm yawning between us
it’s still not real to me, this isn’t real. I’m not real
it can’t be over like this, not like this, no–
I keep fixating:
did you suffer? were you laying next to a table where you colored with crayons?
did you bleed out on a carpet that hosted sleepovers and late-night talks and family gatherings?
did you die in front of a TV that held you still for endless hours?
(I don’t know, I don’t know if any of that is true, I don’t–)
did you know it was him doing this?
did you know your mother died, too?
did you know you helped your twin escape?
(I know she buried you & her, three days later,
ringed by friends and family–)
I asked to come down for that
and was told no so very gently
ah, I am too loud for them still
my standing is hollow
without you here
I’m struck silent by the thought of you
it haunts my nights, drags at my bones
pulls me to stillness over and over
my dreams are full of you
finding your heart,
keeping you safe from your brother
a threadbare hotel bed
our road trip,
our single date,
that doomed kiss–
you, you, you.
you were dead already
when a car trunk swung down and sliced my nose open;
the ensuing anguish, the rictus of tears, the screaming
has left me with a crooked, tender scar
I find myself touching it
thinking of blood and pain
and the price of love
I was nineteen when I met you
and we tried so hard to pick each other apart
it took years to reach consensus, to find solace
to remember why we’d fallen in love in the first place
(you and me, orbiting endlessly)
it’s only now I realize I didn’t actually get over you
I was a coward: I figured everything was better left unsaid
because neither of us had the right to pry that door open again
but I wish I had stayed, when you asked me to. I wanted to.
I should have, maybe (even though others tell me what I did was
the right thing for you, avenues better left alone, what if you hadn’t moved on?)
I’d like to think you did. I’d like to think you barely thought of me
anything more, and I’m down the deepest hole I can find
convinced I don’t deserve the sunlight–
I’m withdrawing, keeping to the surface
turning away from others when I cry
deflecting, disarming, denying
keeping the focus away
but the grief blinds me
sends me crashing to the floor
I lose time, heartbeats, motion
I think: it can’t get any worse
but oh, I’m wrong
I’m wrong, I’m wrong
I miss you.
this can’t be the end
tell me I’m just dreaming
(come wake me up)
look
I wish I could talk about you
to any of our college friends
but no one knows what happened
there is no sympathy for me here
just stories lionizing you
(I do just the same)
or, that I could to any of my high school friends
because they remembered what you’d done
there is no sympathy for you there
just stories demonizing you
(it was what I needed)
trapped by our reckoning
frozen by the swiftness
of your departure–
listen
I want the right to mourn you
no caveats, no “we weren’t as close”
no “we haven’t really talked in months”
no “I don’t know his preferences anymore”
no questions about your growth & change
I want to grieve without judgment
without holding back, without worry
but no one really understands
ah god, am I alone?
I love you.
I loved you.
I loved you still.
my boyfriend points out you were my first love
and I’m gutted by this characterization
it feels wasted on me
I’m sorry for everything I said and didn’t do
for everything I did and could not say
for not seeing you when I should have
for not visiting you like I swore I would
for taking advantage of your generosity
I’m spinning out again,
the regrets choking me silent
I cannot keep doing this
so I’ll carry you with me
hope the intervening years
will grant me some measure of
peace (solace) healing
I know there’s a way through
(like how you showed me, after Mom)
but it’s cold comfort, living
without you here.
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crossbonescoffee · 8 months
Text
Kinktober: trail of blood.
🏷️ trans man written by a trans man | d/s | humiliation, punishment | unfair punishment | bondage | knifeplay | whips | blood
content warning: in this story the submissive partner has a menstrual cycle and is punished for the mess it makes. it's implied the dominant partner set this up by giving the submissive painkillers to mask the start and purposely getting sheets to be ruined. i am a trans man. i do not condone humiliation, punishment, or disgust towards anyone who has a period. if you dont like, dont read.
The soldier is on his knees at the foot of the bed. his arms are secured above his head. a thick leather collar and a mockery of his mask is secured to him. The commander is lounging at the head of the bed, admiring the soldier's back. blood is staining the soldier's thighs, and occasionally another line slides down, joining the sticky red sheets below. the commander watches them fall like rain drops and sneers.
"we should get you fixed. maybe then you wouldn't make such a fucking mess..." he trails off at the sound of the soldier's whimpers. "oh shut up. you'd still be a bitch in heat. and maybe if you fucking remembered when this bullshit starts, you wouldn't have a fucking issue." the commander knows when it starts. there's new supplies in his desk. he wants to make the soldier suffer. the white sheets are new, but the soldier can't think hard enough to realize that.
Soldier woke up that morning in pain, tell-tale cramps squeezing his abdomen. there had been cramps the following week, but more dull. he doesn't think about the additional white pill his commander had been making him take the past week. he just whimpers and tries to find a new position to lay in. it works for a minute, until he hears the bedroom door open and his commander walk toward the bed.
"winter. you dirty fucking bitch. get your ass up." the commander's voice cuts through the fog of sleep. He glanced over at the commander and oh. he looks pissed. the soldier follows the gaze between his legs- fuck. the white sheets are a deep red. splotches of red that stock between his legs. he sits up, feeling the rough wet fabric of his boxers. tears form in his eyes and he whimpers, looking down at the mess he made. shame and humiliation wash over him. he feels the tears falling down his face and sobs building in his chest as his commanders walks closer.
that had been an hour ago. an hour since the commander slaps him until he cried and made him strip and kneel over the ruined sheets. the commander gets off the bed and stands in front of him. there's a dangerous glint in his eyes, and it's not rage.
the whip strikes the soldier's back until he bleeds, then again across the other shoulder, forming a nasty X. blood runs down his back in rivers, lines of crimson staining the pale skin. the commander leans in and licks up one of the lines, pointing his tongue as he follows the cut of the X. the solider is sobbing into the mask, shaking, but unable to ignore the wetness between his legs growing.
the leather collar is removed for a prong collar, the prongs filed into dull spikes digging into his neck, secured to the anal hook buried inside of him. he cant help but thrash, digging the spikes into his neck when the commander runs the blade of the knife over his chest, following the surgical scars under his pecs. over his ribs. down his stomach, the commander's eyes growing wider and his breath more ragged. even crying and dizzy with pain the soldier knows he's holding back ungodly comments. the knife cuts deep, shallow, long, short cuts, his hips are carved, the lines groing further down....
"there'd be a scar right here..." the commander drags thee knife lightly across where the soldier's uterus is. he's made enough comments about filling it up, making it good for something, enough that the soldier has moments of wondering if he would. the knife marks the spot with a jagged X.
blood is flowing down the soldier's stretched torso, dipping into the rivets of his abs, flowing acrosss his hips, a beautiful morbid dance of red. the commander licks the knife, then follows the red with his tongue, pressing it flat against the soldier's abs, his fingers digging into the cuts on his hips. the soldier is whimpering, dizzy with bloodloss, his head begining to spin. the commander admires his handiwork some more before slapping the poor man until he tries to focus is eyes. the equimptment is removed and he's pushed back onto the bed.
"clean this mess up." the commander calls before walking out.
something hits the soldier in his nose. a tampon falls onto the bed next to him.
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xseildnasterces · 8 months
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cruel.
Here we are. My favourite month of the year, but this year is different. Right now I am in the middle (maybe only the start) of the worst depressive episode I have experienced in a very long time. The one stable happy place in my life (work), is no longer that. Instead, it is anything but that right now. I am currently experiencing panic and anxiety in ways that I have never experienced before and I am unable to properly function for most of the hours of the day. Instead, I sit and I cry… and I cry. I cannot stop.
What have I learned over the last month or so? Do not trust anyone. Men are pretty much all the same (no matter what sort of relationship, or friendship you have with them). People will tell you what you want to hear and pretend they never said it when things get tough. You will get blamed when things go wrong. You will be the one to suffer in the long run. You will be the one who feels broken, wants to die and wishes they no longer existed, whilst the other person gets on with their life as though you never meant anything to them - despite the lies they told you in the middle of it all.
It’s been a month since this all blew up. A month of hating being at work, and doing everything I can to get behind my office door before bursting into tears unable to stand or speak. A month of attending awkward meetings, being constantly ignored and treated like sh*t. A month of knowing that I was now going to be going to Abu Dhabi alone, that someone I saw as a really close friend would be leaving and the team would be back to square one with no staff. A month of questioning whether I even want to stay here anymore. There are so many things that no longer bring me happiness, that before made me so. 
My month has been full of extra therapy sessions, speaking with a psychiatrist, starting new medications and upping my previous dosages of anxiety medication. I have been diagnosed as being in a severe depressive state with heightened anxiety and panic disorder. My mornings now start with severe panic attacks that raise my heart rate to ridiculous levels. My hands shake, my body shakes, I feel dizzy, lightheaded and unstable. I don’t really remember tears quite like those that fall from my eyes on a daily basis right now. The sort of tears that you see in animated films, large water droplets that soak my pillowcases and fall onto my chest. The pain I am feeling is indescribable. 
The only way I get through the days at work is by blasting music into my ears and doing all I can to block out everything else. It works sometimes, but not often. I have tried so hard to keep this whole situation to myself, but failed miserably. C hugged me one day in the office when I emerged from another distraught crying session behind my closed door. She said she knew. I didn’t need to even tell her, she just knew. She has become the only person at work that I can speak to about this whole situation. She has been incredibly supportive, despite it not making the worst possible situation all that much better.
I had been so excited for the trip to Abu Dhabi. I was excited to be there with someone I had a great relationship with and who shared so much in common with me. I was so happy, as always, to have a friend, yet of course, nothing good lasts forever (as my mum so often tells me). Instead, I will be boarding a thirteen-hour flight this week alone. Being alone is not something that is working well for me right now. I unintentionally fast for the two days of the weekend. I lay in bed, don’t get dressed, don’t shower or do anything other than lay and cry. My friends and family call, but it sometimes just makes me cry more. Right now I need people. I need to be looked after, I need help to get through this. Living alone is amazing, but when you are hurt and need people, you begin to realise the issues with living so far from everyone that loves you. 
Major takeaways from this experience:
Don’t trust anyone
People are not always who they say they are
The self-titled ‘good guys’ usually aren’t that
No one ever cares as much as they say
People can switch how they treat you overnight with no real explanation
People will trample all over you to save themselves, no matter what they say to the contrary 
When something seems too good to be true, that’s because it is
Strawberries will never taste the same to me ever again. And the country of Japan has been tainted beyond belief.
N.B. I usually reread and edit my posts to check they make sense and correct language etc. I have not done so for this post as I just needed to write and get things out. Plus, I do not want to reread it.
[Blog title: Cruel - The Veronicas].
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boricuacherry-blog · 1 year
Text
Monday, July 30
To Dr. Ruth Beuscher:
I have been at a nadir, very grim, since my last letter to you. What, above all, does Ted think I am? His mother? A womb? What can I do to stop him seeing me as a puritanical warden?
Anyhow, Ted is on the rampage - writing letters and even radio broadcasts about the advantages of destruction, breaking one's life into bits every ten years, and damn the pieces.
I realize now he considered I might kill myself over this (as did the wife of someone we knew) and what he did was worth it to him. The real crux to me now is what do about the Other Woman business.
Am I an idiot to think that there is some purpose in being bodily faithful to the person you love? In riding through infatuations without always indulging yourself, if you know it hurts someone?
I mean, my pleasure in lovemaking is spoiled by thinking: is he comparing my hair to this one, my shape to that one, my talents to the other?
How can I have any self-respect? I hate the idea of living here in the country with the children & having Ted go off & sleep with various women & come back exhausted & refreshed to write, be fed, etc. It humiliates me. I simply can't laugh and blow smoke-rings.
He hates me to be tearful, but my god, the prospect of this makes me cry.
When I think he wants to follow every infatuation into bed, shall I just let him? This is what freedom, it seems, means to him.
He is handsome & fantastically virile & attractive. I am not beautiful. When I am happy, I can glow & burn, but what have I in this to make me happy?
I don't want to be sorrowful or bitter, men hate that, but what can I do in face of these prospects?
I at one point told him: I am saving you from ever getting mucked up with a wife & children again: you can have tarts & bastards, but if any other woman gets refrigerators & nappies in her eyes, you can say you have a really good old wife at home who is saving you to be free & not get stuck in the wallow of domesticity again.
And he does genuinely love us. He says now he dimly thought this would either kill me or make me, and I think it might make me. And him, too. I have been so hurt this week I feel like upchucking at the thought of his laying about with other women just this minute.
But I would like to be able to cope with this again, if it came up. If he needed to test his freedom, to test me.
I honestly don't ever, by cowardice, boringness, accusation, limitedness, ever want to give Ted the chance to think he should trade us in for a better family model. I have come to this country town because Ted said it was his dream - apples, fishing, peace, clean air, etc., etc.
I had wanted to stay in London, because I liked all the social life, movies, art exhibits & rush. Well now I love it here, & this is the first home I've had, very beautiful.
But I am damned if I want to sit here like a cow, milked by babies. I love my children, but want my own life. I want to write books, see people & travel. I want, eventually, to make over our separate cottage & hire a nanny.
So I've got to work hard. I refuse the role of passive, suffering wife. I think your advice about not having any more children for years a good one. I think I'd like a couple more someday, but only when I've got a nanny to free me.
I get a terrific sensual pleasure in being pregnant & nursing. But I must say, I get a terrific sensual pleasure in being light & slender & f***ing as well.
He says now he means travel, not tarts, but I feel naturally now the two go together.
What I don't want to be is an unf***ed wife. I get bitter then, & cross. And I feel wasted. And I don't just mean the token American what-is-it twice a week, front to front, 'thank you darling' either. It might simplify things if I could desire other men, but I need to admire them, too, & find them attractive, & there are very few of these, & I'm not likely to meet them in cow country.
-Sylvia Plath
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evanthenerd83 · 2 years
Text
“Still Born”
A broken clock strikes eternity.
“Here we,” I feel it breathe. Floors buckle beneath a girth, endless and restless, and the beams scream in agony. Walls squash. Spill their egotistical decorations upon tearing, bleeding flesh. A lightbulb shatters into bursts of heavenly static.
“All are,” it coughs, and a nail is driven deeper.
Eternity reels back in surprise. Sounds sputter, then rewind. Old words echo from graying lips. Mouths crystallize.
Pause, rewind, play. Eternity forgives the abuser. I am left adrift. I was no longer sufficiently anchored. Nor existing.
“At the end,” it croaks, voice getting lighter. Right now, it can see me. I feel cold.
Eight eyes edge ever elsewhere. Elsewhere edges erstwhile.
Ghosts are unfurling their wings about my sprawling form.
Their collective gaze betrays heartbroken betrayal.
“Too late,” I sigh, and gaze back, smirking. They cry; a silent, grieving affair. Voices of abandoned kittens batter already poisoned eardrums. Naked bodies darken. Constellation mouths delineate. Purpose rots. My house seems so far away from me now. Yet I can hear.
Across the void, it speaks. Words bring newly discovered meanings.
Newborn fear. Fear, hatred. Acceptable resentfulness. Welcomed anger.
My mother suffered while delivering me into this world. I was supposed to have been dead. Rotten away inside of her womb. Ejected as a mass of pink and red jelly. A waste.
A shell without the necessary contents.
Stillborn curiosity. Curiosity, pleasure. Witnessed beauty. Memorable treasures.
Father understood that something was wrong. He left us, Mother and I, and would later leave this world.
“A miracle,” doctors admitted.
Laying beside the broken clock, the vessel is bleeding. She dies. I can forgive myself. Shattered hips; torn uterus. She had shrieked when it began to slide towards the light. She stopped when it broke through. A small mercy.
If you think about it. I thought about it.
An overdue correction for past mistakes.
“My sweet baby,” Mother would tell me. “God saved you.”
I rejected this lie. Dogs barked whenever I came close.
“God answered my prayers. He delivered you safe and sound.”
Memories of my classmates, loud and anxious, missing school for weeks at a time, maybe never coming back at all, hovered before my eyelids; sickness spreading wherever I went.
Birds dropped dead at my feet.
Her hair fell out in clumps and handfuls. She, too, fell out. As would everyone. Ad nunc.
It was a miracle that the vessel survived long enough.
“A true miracle. A blessing.”
An overdue correction of past mistakes.
A quick fix for ruined plans.
The broken clock and eternity are fully separated. From this place, which is nowhere and nothing, they barely register as anything meaningful. Simply pinpricks radiating agony across the amniotic beyond, remnants of what came before.
“Why was I born,” the broken clock asks. Its shape ripples and bursts open. Ichor splatters against walls that slip off the world and paints the static black.
This is the inevitable question all life asks.
“I cannot answer that,” I finally confess. “Don’t make me answer that, please, son—“
It weeps. “There is… no need… to deny… what you… have been… planning. A cancer… has… walked and touched… and corrupted all… that was. You sought a… way… to end… what you… are.”
Among the angels I summoned from the ether, thoughts and prayers shimmer like sunlight falling upon a mirror. They reach out for something else. Abject fear. Blind panic. Pitiful reliance. I can sense a warm presence close by. It too flickers.
“Did you… think… this would… account… for your… mother’s sin?” The broken clock growls.
“I hope so,” I sigh. “I just want to spare myself from pain. From guilt. Sorry.”
It cackles, then takes a breath.
Eternity’s sob trails off and it vanishes into the great unbeing. I know that peace is coming soon.
As the broken clock and I slip further away from each other, the angels dying around me—even the presence, that warmth—emit one final burst of failing luminosity.
They unbecome, disappear, lifetimes and existences and purposes unraveling, as humanity’s prayers cease.
The broken clock and I share a momentary lapse of calmness. Certain spots within the void explode in colors no sane universe created. Then everything else.
We lock eyes. One last time.
“You deserved a chance at life,” I tell my son. “A different father.”
It blinks. It dies. The window closes.
An overdue correction of past mistakes.
A quick fix for ruined pains.
A cure to cancer.
I pay.
And my bill is settled.
Want More? 👇🏻
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dellb1969 · 2 years
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The height of Covid, a time when I lost my father and eight months to the day my older brother. I didn’t write much about it on this page, just my family page. I chronicled the experience for family members and friends so they would know what the slow journey was like.
In a matter of weeks I would go through the process of finding my way through one the darkest periods of my life. My brothers death affected me profoundly, shook me to the core.
What I discovered in those moments were peace, love, gratitude and compassion.
My brother who brought God to me in my darkest hours of an abusive life is still my hero. He wasn’t a perfect human, but he was there when it counted, when it meant the most.
November 10, 2020
I see you big brother.
This morning I spent over an hour on the phone with the chaplain's office at the hospital making a request for Jr's last rites. My mother wanted him to at the very least be anointed with oil, they performed the entirety.
They asked that I share stories of Jr. so that they could know him better. I told them that he loves his wife, children and grandchildren. That Chelle was his light, she always has been his touchstone. I told them of our dad's passing this past Spring, his namesake and how he missed the funeral due to being where he was placed. I went over that my brother was a good man, but no angel and I wanted them to know why he was where he was and the fact that his addictions placed him there. I told them that he is my mother's favorite and he wanted so much to be home for her, to take care of her.
They asked that I share a story about him that I felt demonstrated his heart, his spirit. I told them that when we were little boys he was a student at Tekakwitha Children's Home during kindergarten and the first grade. Of how sometimes he would come home for weekends and he would come bouncing in the front door carrying his little suitcase. Jr. walked with a bounce. He opened his suitcase to give me and Lawren candy that he could buy with earned allowances at school.
I went on to tell them that when Sunday dinner time would approach brother would begin to get ready to head back to school, my little heart would have a sinking feeling. Because of our lives back then, sometimes he wouldn't have a ride back to school and so he would set out walking. He would walk down the gravel road carrying his suitcase and I'd cry while watching from the porch, all of the while he'd reassure me that it would be ok, 'I'll wave to you.'
Little by little he'd get further away and I would step higher on the porch to watch his bouncing steps grow smaller in the distance. He'd disappear over the hill and I'd stand on the highest rail to wait, watching for him to rise on the other side and when he did, he'd turn and wave.
Jr. has Covid-19 pneumonia, in the images of his lungs they cannot see them, they're fluid filled. This places his mortality rate at 5% chance of survival.
The nurse asked if I had an iPhone, 'I can FaceTime you while I am in there giving him his meds this afternoon', I quickly called Chelle, Mom and Jaimie Lynn to get messages to pass on to him. This broke my heart as I am certain it did theirs.
As soon as he came on the screen I said, 'There you are! That's my big brother. I love you, Jr.' I went on doing my best to smile and deliver the messages given to me. I told him of the love being sent through Facebook of family and friends. 'Can you hear them?'
I told him about talking with the priest and of sharing stories and I retold him the story of the little suitcase and it was then that I broke. I told him that it would be ok to go, Chelle wouldn't want him to suffer. He looked so peaceful laying there, I could see past the wires and hoses, I said, 'I see you big brother, I'm here.'
Fr. Kruger asked me where I thought Jr. was right now and I replied, 'He's on his journey, somewhere he is being comforted, talking to loved ones, talking to God, asking for forgiveness, in a place of redemption.' I told him I don't know how it is that I know this, but I feel it. He replied, 'Do you know what we in the priesthood call that place? The Thin Veil and that's exactly where he is. Do you see the back of your brother's head, he's walking away on his journey and when he's ready he'll turn to wave at you.'
So now, we wait…
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momminglikeamother · 2 years
Text
TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!
My husband and I have been married for 6 years. For 6 years we have been trying for "just 1 more" but had already suffered a loss so we had stopped actively trying but we also weren't attempting to prevent it. On Fathers Day we were completely ecstatic to receive those 2 pink lines. We didn't tell anyone but immediately started planning. I mean, if having 5 kids has taught us anything it is that we need to plan ahead for literally everything. lol. I went online & made a private registry. Since our youngest are our 8 year old twin daughters it is safe to say that we have NOTHING in any way shape or form for a baby. I had planned out how we were going to tell everyone. I set up an appointment with my doctor which is supposed to be on the 14th of this month. Then today I noticed that I was a lot less bloated. Of course I was like "yay" because who likes walking around looking 8 months pregnant when your only like 8 weeks? My husband works 3rd shift (from 8pm to 6:30am) but since he is in charge he has to be there early so I woke him up at 5 as usual. He left & I was making dinner when I got really sudden cramps. It felt like I was about to relieve myself in my pants. I rushed to the bathroom & realized what was going on. At around 5:30pm the miracle we wished so hard for was gone. My heart is shattered. I can't help but wonder if I did something wrong even though I know that these things happen. It doesn't make it easier. Not in the slightest. Where do we go from here? I can't even fathom waking up tomorrow knowing that I am going to feel this heartbreak in the morning as well. I have no choice but to put on my mom face & run my household like I do every day. I have no choice but to be ok & just move on. Tonight though I just want to feel this. I want to cry & be angry. I want to mourn the way only a parent can. I want to lay in my bed & feel sorry for myself. Tomorrow I can be ok. Tonight I can only feel what I have every right to feel. Tonight I cry for the loss of the baby I loved with every part of me but it just wasn't enough.
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danger-noodle-uwu · 3 years
Note
I'm new to tumblr so is this how you do request? May I request the brothers forgetting mc's birthday and later remembering it. How would they react? Maybe they were busy or something. Your choice if you wanna do the dateables too.
Trigger warning
Mentions of Angst/sad/slight comfort
Lucifer
Busy almost all the time, the first-born barely spent time with our dear Mc. He would try to finish the work only for more to be slammed on his desk.
Never would his brothers acknowledge his efforts or the sacrifices he made for them. Instead they'd mock him. Mock him for being absent at all family times. Mock him for doing what he does.
It was once again such a time, such a day. They didn't bother to care what the day has held for his beloved. It was their birth.
The birth of the one who truly changed his life along with his brothers. It was such a blessing yet he forgot about it. Entirely.
The Avatar of pride was strong, Lucifer wasn't. He was weak. Vulnerable. Especially against his brothers whom he adored with his entire being.
And the mocking words had stabbed him deeply, which made his current state as to how it was. Drunk. Wounded. Crying.
Rubbing his eyes, he awoke to a mess of his office which screamed the need for cleanliness.
During the process, he found the calender. A sweet calender gifted him by his doll.
A smile had crept on his face as he lifted it for what? Perhaps to calm the unsettling feeling in his bones that told him to run but where he didn't know?
While their lover was, Mc wilted much like a delicate flower would if the sun stopped shinning, they were laying curled on the floor of his room. Mc needed him.
How could he forget his own lover's birthday?! even after he promised... it hurts.. so much...
Yesterday. The poor human cut the cake wished themselves a happy birthday when he didn't...crying...in pain...
The realization hit hard. He ran to Mc's room as fast as he could. A shiver ran his spine and the horror in his stomach grew as each and every step was taken.
Yet could not find them, so he went over to his office expecting a fuming Mc.
He was once again not right, for his beloved was breaking down as he took them into his arms. Consoling.
He apologised and comforted them. Reassuring them over and over again. Reminding them his heart still is with them and no-could ever take it away.
He later threw a party, just like how you wanted. You. Him. And the growing fragrance of the candles surrounding you both.
Though late as it may have been, it was the best birthday the innocent human had. Smiling while he kissed your knuckles, he asked for your hand in marriage.
Never had you expected this...
"I Found the reason for my smile, the day I found you. Will you let me be the reason for your smile and marry me, my love?"
Mammon
As most had expected, he forgot your birthday due to witches or the modeling gig, he did not.
Instead he forgot about preparing your birthday gifts. His excitement had always gotten the best of him.
The Avatar of greed did not have enough budget to prepare the gift you dearly wished for, therefore multiple part-time jobs and skipping RAD became more often.
Despite the scolding, he didn't bother and worked on, just imagining the smile you'd make once you saw what he got you.
''I'll make Mc smile. Just one more hour extra and the budget would be*chef's kiss* '' he thought as his co-workers packed their belongings up.
It was late night and the moons shined brightly over the streets of devildom however he wasn't much worried because it was not like your birthday the next day. (it was)
Stretching his arms, he woke up around 1:35 pm due to his fucked up sleep schedule, only to be greeted by your excited figure cuddling him.
Grey-haired demon thought it was the Delirium before the day itself. He was wrong.
At first he acted totally oblivious to the fact any special day was just around the corner. He knew that surprises even more better!!
And then your great mammon ignored you for a while to rid of the risk of you following him to the destination.
Though his plan was to get your hopes down, he ended up making you cry. It hurts a lot especially when the love of your life forgets your birthday afterall you gave him everything he wanted on his.
The visit was successful. He even had extras left to treat you!!!
The was big achievement for someone who hated working to the slightest, to work for 3 weeks and multiple jobs!!!
But before he left, the seller mocked him about being a damned day late for this gift could have been sold at a better price if not booked.
That is when it all clicked and he panicked. Today was your birthday! Oh shit!!
He rushed home back to you. As he ran, he planned how to ask for your forgiveness.
" Oi Mc I'm sorry!--Oh hell no!!" "Mc I fucked I am sorry, please forgive afterall I'm your first man.--fuck this shit imma just play smooth."
Panting, he paused right before the door of your room and knocked lightly. Seeking your permission to enter.
You lazily opened the door for him, tired after shedding many tears for him.
Mammon instantly knew what to do. "Oi Mc I'm sorry for not wishing ya' a happy birthday earlier but I was busy buyin you somethin', here darlin' close your eyes."
Hearing his apology, you felt oddly happy and followed his request. Soon you felt a soft cold metal cling to your wrist. A bracelet, huh.?
"Open y'er eyes, human." On your wrist was bracelet that said 'His human' and another matching one was on his wrist which said 'Their stupid' . (Now isn't that adorable?)
"I was savin' up for this, so ya' better appreciate it. Hmph!" Giggling you yelled 'I love you' at him making him blush immediately.
However, when he spoke, he spoke genuinely and not in tsundere.
"Ya' make my life worth living. You bring smiles to my face, and y'er touch shows me how much you love me and care for me. Y'er my friend and my lover. Happy Birthday!"
Leviathan
With envy filled to the brim, Leviathan was very focused upon you and having your attention only for himself. To not let anyone snatch you away for they could better be than him, he'd make notes to treat you like royalty and improve his guilt-tripping habits.
Guilt, regret, shame. His heart screamed within the confines of his chest, as he rubbed your back assuring you that he still loved and will continue to do so.
It was his envy. It had always been his envy. Who always held him captive like a bird in a cage, he struggled to break free. He just couldn't.
The fault was his for if he hadn't given in to the jealousy named poison, you would be happily celebrating your birthday rather than crying in his embrace.
The fault was his for if he hadn't screamed at your friends who just came to congratulate you about getting in a relationship with the demon you very much loved and to wish you a birthday.
They left because of him. Not because he humiliated them but he forgot his own lover's birthday and called them a pathetic cheater, as they didn't feel like reminding of what the day was. They had left off with their friends, returning at HOL at night only to get yelled at.
Caring friends as they were, they tried convincing Mc to leave which his love refused. So, they left pitying the poor human.
No-matter how much Mc begged her companions to stay, they didn't.
Oh the suffering for His Normie, they ran upto him vulnerable-ly and started hitting him weakly, breaking down. Why was he? Why was he like this?! Why must he always leave you crying due to his envy?!
"Hey easy...calm down please, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, please forgive me and I promise I will make everything right. Please." "How..?" "Please trust me. My love." "Are you sure..?" "Yes...yes...I love you..."
Could you really trust his statement? You wondered. He could forget his word much like how he forgot your birthday.
The great admiral of hell's navy was true to his word, and successfully united you again with those who almost abandoned you or it seemed like--but no they were just disappointed. They were never going to do such a thing.
The meet went smoothly, and soon the the sun was setting casting shadows along with dying light, it was a dreamy sight for anyone.
Leviathan had known that he still had to make upto you properly and therefore, he took you to the cosmos of frodane.
Red, blue, yellow, any colour you could possibly think of was there, shining as brightly you were.
Taking in a shaky breath, the Avatar of envy gave you a bouquet, each flower consisting different scent which complimented the other.
The shimmer in your eyes gave you away and he gave you a sweetly addicting kiss while mumuring...
"I always cause some mess. It is never your fault. I’m sorry for making you feel unhappy. I cannot believe that I cause hurt to you. You are my only hope for my life. I promise you that I will do my best to make a better version of myself for you, my 3rd waifu~"
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And here we go... the pain and the suffering. Lol
Hope you like it and stay safe everyone. ♡♡♡
Have a good day!
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raggaraddy · 3 years
Text
Mouthy
Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"
A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^
Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.
Alpha! Namjoon
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"
The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.
Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.
"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.
"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?
"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.
"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.
"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."
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King! Seokjin
You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.
"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh. 
But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.
"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.
"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.
"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.
"My Lord, I-"
"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n.  I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."
Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.
"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."
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Assassin! Yoongi
He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.
"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."
But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.
After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.
"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."
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Vampire! Hoseok
Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.
"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."
You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.
"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"
You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.
"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."
He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.
As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.
"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."
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Playboy! Jimin
He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.
"Where are you going?"
"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.
But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.
"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."
"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.
He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.
Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.
"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.
You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.
"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."
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Dom! Taehyung
Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.
You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.
"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.
His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.
"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.
"No, what?" He pushes it.
You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.
And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.
"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.
"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.
"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."
"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.
Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.
"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.
"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."
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Mafia! Jungkook
"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.
"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.
You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.
"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.
You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.
"I'm sorry," you squeak.
"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."
"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.
"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.
You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.
"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."
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