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#maladaptive daydreaming: skill or curse?
balkan-marie · 2 months
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Bozhana's backstory [Updated, detailed + full]. Some or lots of stuff here and there is personal or just me projecting onto her and it's very long. If you're uncomfortable with suicide mention then don't read the final paragraph. Thank you for your attention!
Before I start, her name means "divine", borrowed from the Bulgarian word божествена/bozhestvena (f).
She is the lowest rank in the Octarian military, but is one of the top best engineers in the school/military she goes to, almost nobody actually knows her by name, since they all call that engineer "The Weird One". She actually prefers engineering rather than being a soldier because it puts too much stress on her and fails the easiest training, her tutor/officer/colonel (whatever those who teach octolings to become soldiers are called. Sorry I forgot) allows her to skip and/or go to those soldier trainings whenever she wants to, without absences. She skips them all the time but sometimes goes just to see how her "friend" is doing (Bozhana sees her more as an acquaintance).
Bozhana lives in doubt and fear since she has severe OCD, with lots of themes but her relationship, Pure-O, existential and sexual themes are the worst. But this doesn't mean she doesn't feel happiness! Music, being alone without anyone bothering her and her interests make her joyful. Bozhana loves talking about her favorite music genres and things about robotics. She is also an artist but she hides it and only draws at home. Bozhana also maladaptive daydreams and often wants to spend her whole day just staying in bed and daydreaming while listening to music and gets annoyed when she has to do something else like going "outside", it's also a coping mechanism. She has other disorders such as Misophonia/Misokinesia and trichotillomania/bfrb. Bozhana can also play an instrument, but only the "Onward!" leitmotif.
She's extremely insecure of her looks, she wears her goggles at all times even when sleeping or showering. Avoids all mirrors. She would only show her face to those who she trusts the most, nobody has made it yet... Until! [spoiler]. Bozhana also wears 2 pairs of gloves on each hand so she doesn't bite her fingers.
She has always wondered why some Octarians hate inklings and it had left her in suspicion. Deep inside she knew inklings aren't what was taught in school and that the past is the past, but she was too afraid to say it. She also doesn't really like talking much, so she often just nods/shakes her head or does "👍"
(I forgot how Agent 3 and Bozhana met but if I remember or think of something new then I'll rewrite this part ok) blah blah blah her first encounter with an Inkling made her more nervous than before, the inkling aimed his shooter at the octopus girl, she thought she'd die on that day, but the way she looked helpless and scared made the squid boy feel very sorry for her, he felt as if he was about to kill a baby cat, looking for its mother. It was hard for Bozhana to get closer to the boy, thinking she'd get cursed with bad luck for meeting with an Inkling. With the time and the Agent's carefulness, they both became friends, even if they didn't understand each other's language, but Bozhana's art skills helped her express herself. Agent 3 would visit her often and he tried his best to learn the Octarian language to communicate with her, and so he did. Their relationship must be kept as a secret until their final days.
Bozhana couldn't escape, so the boy would bring food, clothes and toys from the surface and talk about it. Her favorite things which he brought were the octotrooper keychain and octoball plush, followed by crab'n'go food. With the time passed, she finally gained enough trust and faced her fear by showing her face to him for the first time ever.
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One day, something unexpected, awful, something Bozhana was trying to avoid this whole time, happened. She heard a sound of a charger and saw the Octarians from her school in a crowd, looking at something in the middle, her thoughts and heart started to race and ran to see if what her brain made her think actually happened. What Bozhana saw is exactly that. It was Agent 3 laying on the ground, dead. With a hole on his head left by a sniper. He got caught by one of the soldiers while he was trying to look around for a little bit, even if Bozhana warned him not to do that. But that head of his didn't listen. Agent 3 was too curious and curiosity killed him.
Bozhana couldn't take the stress and panic she felt, as if her heart and body were about to make a boom at any given moment. She ran to Agent 3's body and committed suicide by shooting herself in front of everyone with her beloved main weapon, the range blaster. She fell right next to Agent 3's dead body, so she could be with him forever, even when dead. Bozhana never learnt that boy's name, nor the fact that the sniper was her friend, who's a skilled charger main in the military. That friend of hers, going by the name Radost, went up to her dead body, squatting and mockingly softly hitting her shoulder, telling her, "May you rest in peace, rascal." Then she threw her cigarette next to her body and stomped on it.
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Tiny Bozhana...
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Thanks for reading! 🐙 Bonus:
Bozhana's favorite genres are italo-disco(or just any disco), new wave and eurobeat.
Her voice sounds "boyish" and quiet.
The red symbol she has on her jacket is this:
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Radost's name comes from the Bulgarian word for "joy". She's said to often have a "greasy" smile and "super annoying" face. When she walks around with a cigarette in her mouth, her expression is more serious with one raised eyebrow and tilted smile (just to look intimidating). Radost is secretly a killer and murders other Octarians who try to hurt Bozhana (lol......). She's a high tier rank and close to being promoted to an Elite. She also plays dualies as secondary main after the e-liter scope
The tutor is Zdravka, highest rank, Elite soldier who sometimes looks after Bozhana. She's a roller main.
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romanoffsbish · 2 years
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lantern, maple, bonfire 😝
lantern - how did you meet your best friend? What were your first impressions of each other?
Please… Not this 🙈
So… My bestfriend of 18 years—Alex, we met when I was nearly 8, and tragically cursed with a total blanket of naivety. I’d just been thrown in with my dad who I’d sparingly seen throughout the years, and I knew absolutely nobody in this new area.
So, I’d sit at my window, watching cars drive by, and one day I saw a little girl pushing this little boy on his skateboard. I gasped, then ran outside to inform them I also had a skateboard and to wait for me. They shockingly did, but for like the first year she apparently hated me, and I’d been innocently none the wiser. She even nicknamed me “Creek girl,” because on school days when she was running late her dad’s truck would whiz by the creek where I (who was also late) would just be stood there staring at the stream lol.
Now though, we’re ride or dies, and our families are permanently combined ❤️
Now, Anastassia it was the total opposite. She absolutely was on my shit list by sheer association with her brother lolol. I’d just moved to a new city, moving into my aunts from my dads, and I thought I was off to a fresh start. Then a month in she waltzed into my math class and I was like “🙄.” Nelson, her brother, was purely annoying (normal preteen boy shit; I’d actually been able to convince him I was a Russian spy at one point, and years later he was like “No way… It wasn’t true?” ahahaha)
Anywho, we clicked, but then life happened and we fell off because middle/high school drama happened to her. I was a quiet kid so I was like ‘Hey…’ and that was it. Post high school we had ended up at the same job, we’d started having closing McDonald’s dates, and next thing I know we’re 8 years strong, and her kids/his son are basically mine (as they say) bahahaha. Her youngest literally calls me mom(and means it with her whole chest), and they all call me ‘Kwee-Kween’ or ‘Kleeks’
maple - is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did?
Honestly… Writing was the only one, and I’ve been doing my best at it since October of last year. I’d always been a maladaptive daydreamer, so it was about time I put it down for others to possibly enjoy. Nothing else has ever appealed to me and been shrugged off. I’m pretty adventurous, so as long as I physically can do it, I do lol. Like kayaking, that shit is fun.
bonfire - describe your dream house.
Four bedrooms… One built for a plethora of cats, jungle gym status and with an under the stairs space for my one weenie dog… A room for me, a room for my future partner, and the other room will be for guests. I’m a firm believer in separate spaces, but a shared bed 🥺
Downstairs will be like a loft area with ALL of my collections, because believe me I’ve got a lot of pointless Marvel stuff that makes my heart beam.
A pool would be nice, but not necessary, and the aesthetic for me would be dark, because that’s my vibe… I’m a city girl, but I love the woods so I’d be fine settling for somewhere in between. 🤪
Like look… This is beautiful 😍
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corisanna · 5 years
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So first, sorry about my last sent ask; it was a mess of many ideas and not enough text space to properly explain. But I do have a more involved question this time: how do you get into the feel of the characters (and have them rebel in your writing)? I wanted to write fanfiction, but I could never really "get" that realistic sense of the character I'd be writing about like you do. Well, anyways, good luck with the writing! (Also I had a mental image of Homura doing the Getsuga Tenshou help).
No worries! I was just too tired to answer before.
Hmmmm. There are several facets to that.
CUTTING BECAUSE LONG ANSWER IS LONG
AND HAS PICTURES
The shortest answer is “attention to detail, character analysis, obsession, and pseudo-roleplaying.”
PMMM is short enough that I was able to do my ideal thing and re-watch or re-read several times, each time focusing on only one character and figuring out why they would react/behave like they do. I try to put myself in their shoes and consider only what they know. I pay attention not just to dialogue and major actions, but small cues like patterns of speech, tone of voice, body language, and facial expressions. Sometimes things are plain and sometimes you have to extrapolate.
For example, early on, I got a lot of people objecting that Homura no longer cared about any magical girl besides Madoka. However, when I watched the anime and focused closely on only her, I found these:
Homura’s reaction to Mami, her former mentor, telling her she’s done talking and the next time they meet she’ll fight her:
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pain
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Homura’s reaction to Madoka throwing Sayaka’s Soul Gem off a bridge:
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horror
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She could have allowed Sayaka’s Gem to be lost and not have to deal with her while being absolved of blame for offing Sayaka, but she sprinted down a highway and climbed a truck to retrieve it.
Homura’s reaction to Kyoko getting curbstomped by Oktavia and preparing a suicide attack:
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using her given name, voice soft and worried
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looking mournful during Kyoko’s monologue
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regret/grief
Plus how she acts furious but can’t keep it up and breaks down with Madoka
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And that doesn’t even consider Homura’s perfect world in Rebellion, which included the other girls AND gave them better, happier lives. She didn’t have to do that, yet she apparently wanted to do that.
So I characterize her as having a cold mask and warm fluffy inside. Her softness has been wounded so many times that the coldness developed into a desperate shield. Having a “shield” personality thematically matches her soul’s weapon. I view her as trying to limit her heartbreak by trying to make herself believe she doesn’t care, but cracking and getting hurt anyway. I also think that while we don’t see her have breakdowns after scenes with Mami and Sayaka, they probably happened off-screen, perhaps in frozen time where she can scream privately. Moemura isn’t dead, she’s buried in trauma and armor. She tries to become the mask but fails because she still cares too damn much.
Now.
Sayaka is an example of extrapolating a lot. We know very little about her aside from her crush on Kyosuke, love of music, teasing nature, tendency to hero-worship, and trying to call attention/admiration to herself. In a drama CD, she says she’s petit bourgeoisie. We don’t know anything about her family. The only potential view we have of her parents is this one, where I presume they took her to the orchestra when she was little.
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IF those are her parents. Who else would she be sitting by?
That seems to be how she met Kyosuke. But what was she doing there in the first place?
Writing Sayaka was hard because there were a lot of gaps to fill in with extrapolation. I had to do more working backwards for her. I needed causes for the notable aspects of her behavior. Especially for her pinning all her desperate need for attention on one person, becoming infatuated, and crashing when her One Person Who Might Totally Understand Her paid attention to someone else. That made me think she’s starved for attention.
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Which would imply she doesn’t get enough of it-- or enough of the right kind of it-- at home. So I knew I wanted to make her parents distant/disengaged. Which meant I needed something for them to be focusing on instead of their kid. At which point I looked at the above cap and noticed that the mom(?) is wearing a business dress to the orchestra. So I constructed a kinda headcanon involving Sayaka having also been a child musician of some kind and her parents taking her to try out at an orchestra or something in one of those gambits parents trying to be successful through their kids do.
Then Sayaka’s Magia Record transformation came out and I settled on her having been a pianist. It just hasn’t come up in the story.
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If she knew the joy of making music, that would drive her empathy for Kyosuke’s situation off the charts.
That concoction gave me a neat scaffolding for Sayaka to feel pressured to be awesome, feel like she would only get the attention of those whose attention she wants if she’s awesome, and feel worthless if she’s not needed. I filled in more and more details. I needed her to be "whole.”
So.
Then I take the profile and filter canon events through “if I was her, how would I feel about x?” It’s a bid to take the actions and extrapolate the emotions.
There’s a factor there that enhances my immersion in that mindset: I am an intensive maladaptive daydreamer. Have you ever read “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty”? Dat me. I don’t know how much of a factor it is to writers in general, but for me I obsess over basically roleplaying a scene in my head on infinite repeat, adding more detail with each iteration. In daily life, it’s a very Mitty-like thing; mundane scenery like the bus and my office and my garden spark a “what if” and suddenly fifteen minutes have passed as I build a story around it with me as the main character.
“Me as the main character” is the important part.
When I do the re-watch/re-read focusing on a character, it is to view the events through their eyes. When I was first about to write Sayaka, I jumped to scenes with her in them and ignored everything else. “How would I feel if x?”
If something doesn’t make sense, I think what missing detail would make it make sense.
Once I’ve poked at canon that way, I can switch tracks and apply the persona to non-canon events. I’ve trained myself to think like the character. When I’m figuring out and writing a scene, I am actively pretending I’m that character. The scene is a form of roleplay. I just don’t write it in first-person POV.
I think the source of “character rebellion” is that obsessive knowing of the characters and that even when I’m focused on a different one, some corner of my mind is still running the “how would I feel if x?” program for every other character. When something contradictory pops up, my “sense” of the character shrieks its rejection as refusing to do the thing and suggesting an alternative. If you remove the fiction/creative writing element, it’s basically a pattern recognition system flagging inconsistencies. And once I actually acknowledge them, not heeding them is extremely difficult and can result in a thing I had happen maybe three times: character strike, where my “muse” for that character just shuts down completely because what I’m trying to force it to do is “wrong.”
It’s a really hard mental state to describe.
My advice would be to start small with something featuring only one or two characters you know really well. Study them even more; read their fandom wiki articles and stuff, research the things they like.
Oh no now I’m imagining Homura slinging a Getsuga Tensho off her shield like a frisbeeeeeeeee XD
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drunkdaisychains · 3 years
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Sneak Thief
Summery: Nox Donnahue is a young imperial woman who spends her time enjoying larceny and romance with dangerous men instead of becoming an imperial soldier like her brother. After a difficult conversation with her lover and the man who saved her life, Thyrnn, she decides she needs time to herself. Let’s see what Whiterun has to offer.
Warnings: swearing, smut, violence, trauma
parings: Thrynn/oc, Farkas/oc, 
A/N: I’m trying out this new story but the plot isn’t concrete and basically is just a way to maladaptive daydream so i can avoid my real life. I’ve always seen Thrynn mentioned and characterized as a bit of a dick so I wanted to see where the old “Is a dick to everyone else but me” trope brought me.let me know what you think. Also I’m almost done Aera the Fair and her story has 8 published chapters now. probably only 3 more until the story is done
Chapter 1: No Interuptions
“Stop thief!” The estate owner yelled after the leather clad imperial woman as she raced from the cellar doors she just emerged from clutching a rather valuable jewelled necklace. The wisps of dark hair that couldn’t be contained in her long braid weren’t being blown from her eyes due to her leather hood that shadowed her face and she cursed under her breath as they tickled her forehead and threatened to invade her sight. Her legs burned as she pushed them to carry her farther and faster than she had run in a while. She rounded a rock formation and almost smacked into the solid man who stood there. She could hear the rumble of a chuckle come from his chest as she pulled him down into a crouch in case that owner was still hot on her tail. 
  “Delvin is right, we are cursed!” She panted. 
  “Get back here!” The owner yelled in the distance.
  “Come on,” His familiar voice was raspy as usual with a slight accent she couldn’t place on the nord. He pulled her up by her arm and the two sprinted deeper into the foliage until they found his horse. He swung on and held a hand out for her to climb on just behind his saddle. “Hold on,” he ordered and she snaked her arms around his waist. The horse kicked up into a gallop as they raced towards Shor’s Stone. She thanked the gods that he had finished up his job in time to pick her up. She could have been cut to ribbons by now if he hadn’t shown. 
He finally slowed his horse down to a walk after he was sure they were far enough. She rested her forehead on his bare bicep and breathed a sigh of relief.
   “What happened back there, Nox?” he asked. 
   “We do this for the rush right?” she breathed out her cynical joke. 
   “Nothing beats how you can keep that rush going,” he chuckled and placed a hand on hers. She knew he wanted to move it lower and with the adrenaline still pumping through her veins she reached up and kissed his neck. That’s all he needed, they had just come to a small clearing in the trees. He swung his leg over the horse’s neck and slid off the saddle after stopping the horse. He reached up and wrapped his hands around her waist as she was about to slide off and helped her down. Instead of letting go when she was safe on the ground he pulled her in close catching her full lips in a hungry kiss. This wasn’t unusual for them, there had been a few times when one of them would rush into the secret entrance running from a job as the other was about to leave, they would indulge in the thrill from it. She had a weakness for the nord’s large arms and his fearless attitude. 
   “Thrynn,” She moaned as his lips trailed down her neck, sending chills up her spine. Her fingers found the waist hem of his pants and his hands cupped her bum. Just as they were getting heated, a howl echoed through the trees. 
   “Wolves,” She whispered and he cursed through his teeth, clearly frustrated at the interruption. 
   “Keeps the rush going,” she reminded him as she backed out of his arms and readied her bow with an arrow and aimed it at one of the advancing wolves behind him. She let it fly and it pierced between the eyes killing the wolf instantly. Thrynn turned unsheathing his sword as the second wolf emerged from the bushes. He skillfully swung at the beast and she let another arrow soar into the ribcage. Finally with a powerful swing his sword sunk deep into the wolf’s neck causing it to go limp and fall off his blade. His chest heaved as he caught his breath and met her eyes. She pulled off her quiver and tossed it to the ground by the wolf. He dropped his sword and with two long strides he was pulling her face to his to resume what they had started with a bit more thrill than before. 
   He backed her up to a tree, pinning her against it with his body weight. They wasted no time with undressing this time lest they be interrupted again instead opting for exposing the necessities. They were far from any civilization or roads, still a ways away from Shor’s Stone. 
   His fingers were skilled as they tugged at her armour and then her under clothes. His fingers were calloused and rough from all his time training and fighting, but the way he used them were gentle and with care. He knew exactly how to make her come undone and be completely his. She pulled away from his lips as his fingers slipped into her, causing a gasp to escape her rosy lips. He stared down at her with a mischievous look, in moments she was trembling in his arms whimpering. Her head spun with pleasure and before she could get her bearings, he spun her around and used his foot to spread her legs apart. She cried out as he slid in to her causing him to place a hand over her mouth. 
   “Quiet darlin’, we don’t need your howl’s attracting more wolves,” he quipped and slammed into her again with a grunt. Her palms burned against the bark of the tree as she arched her back and pressed against his thrusts. He pulled her hood down to expose her long chocolate hair, taking her braid in his fist adding more pain to her pleasure. She moaned into his hand as the pleasure built in her about to make her body spasm again. In moments he pulled out just in time not to fill her and make her journey back uncomfortable. He braced himself against the tree trunk as he caught his breath and she fixed her armour.  When she turned to face him, he pulled her into a sweaty but satisfied kiss. He too fixed himself up as it was her turn to lean against the tree, she examined her torn up hands. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 
   “We can wrap up your hands,” he said, examining the blood beading on them. “Come on,” he guided her to the saddlebags on the horse. She studied him as he rummaged for some clean dressings and readied his bladder of water that hung around the horn. She held her hands out as he carefully cleaned and bandaged her hands. 
His war paint was two horizontal lines below each eye, his profile was chiseled, and his mousy brown hair was always pushed back and out of his face despite being long. Nords always preferred their hair long over the short styles other races donned. She had seen this man ruthlessly kill, viciously fight, and spit obscene insults. He was far from a hero which made sense as he was an ex- Bandit turned thief. He was regarded as the enforcer of the guild and trained himself as such, intimidating targets as he looted on jobs rather than sneaking. Both techniques prevented guards from being called and made the guild earn a tough reputation. But she couldn’t help but study him with a soft look she reserved for the tender moments they had together. He could be as vicious as a hungry wolf to anyone else but softened to the likes of a guard dog around her. She felt safe around him and felt they shared something more than just close friends or helping warm each other's beds. 
      “Thanks,” She gave a small smile.
      “For your hands or the sex?” 
      “Clearly I’m talking about the sex,” she giggled. 
      “Well that was my pleasure,” he kissed her again and put the remainder of the wrappings back once they were secure around her hands. “Come on, still a bit before we get to the inn,” he walked over to the wolf to retrieve his sword as she followed suit. 
      Soon they were back on the road and feeling their energy drop from all the excitement they just had. She had slumped against his back fighting to keep her eyes open when she felt him shift in his seat.
   “Don’t fall asleep. I’ll already have to answer for bringing you back at all let alone injured already,” 
   “It’s not a job done right until you draw blood,” she murmured into his shoulder. 
   “I’ve already scraped you off the road once I don’t want to do it again,” he warned and she sat up a bit to please him. There was seriousness in his tone when he gave that warning that made her feel a bit guilty. She obviously hadn’t meant to get so injured on one of her first jobs, it was that damn curse! It was a couple of years ago, Nox Donnahue had already done a handful of jobs with the guild successfully, and surprisingly hadn’t met Thrynn at this point. She had just cleared out a wealthy home in Markarth and had made her escape just past Rorikstead on her horse when she was attacked by forsworn. They killed her horse, looted everything including her guild armour and beat her until they thought she was dead. She couldn’t be sure that was all they did as her clothes were so torn, they were nothing but rags. If Thrynn and Vex hadn’t been on their way back from doing business in Solitude, she surely would have died. 
    Vex had told her how Thrynn was the one who spotted her and stopped to check her breathing. Vex didn’t recognize her with how badly her face was swollen, and without her armour they didn’t even know she was a fellow thief. Bodies left from forsworn attacks were nothing new, merchants avoided those trips if they could because of them. Thrynn had carried her back to Rorikstead while Vex guided his horse, insisting she was still alive despite her breaths being so shallow it was hard to tell. They left her in the care of the healer and finished their trip back to the guild. Brynjolf had mentioned he was surprised they didn’t cross paths with her and all ride back together. That’s when Thrynn had suspected what happened. He asked for another job that would require a trip through Rorikstead as he wanted to check on her, make sure she wasn’t a member left stranded. 
     She had been up for just over a day when he returned, her face had shrunk two sizes and the bruises had mostly faded thanks to the potions and spells. She was still weak and in pain although Rorikstead seemed welcoming enough to house her until she was better. She thanked Stendarr for the mercy she was shown in that town. One of the women had given her fresh clothes and She was given a bed in the inn although she wasn’t sure how she would pay them. Thrynn sat with her, asking questions getting to know her when she asked how he knew she was in the guild. He was taken aback before she explained who she was and how she had ended up there although her memory got fuzzy after leaving Markarth. Knowing who she was, he felt he needed to protect her and make sure she made it back in one piece so he finished his job and picked her up on his way back when she was well enough to travel again. He had taken care of her expenses and for the next few months following, he shadowed her on her jobs, would line up jobs on the same travel path together or simply check up on her if he got the chance like he had during this Rift job. Although they flirted a lot and he made her feel safe, they didn’t become involved until recently. She figured they were seeing each other for about four months now but neither of them dared to bring up advancing into any relationship.
  She hadn’t noticed they had arrived until the horse stopped and he moved to dismount. 
  “I’ll stable your horse while you get us a room?” she suggested. 
  “What do you want for food and drink?” he asked double checking his saddlebag. 
  “I’m only hungry for sleep,” She yawned as he walked towards the inn’s door. She stayed petting the horse and ensured he would be safe for the night with food and water before entering the inn herself. The sun had already set when she was met by the warm fire in the main hall. She scanned the room for Thrynn when she spotted him sitting on a chair by the bar. A woman she had never seen before was in a green tavern dress with her chest exposed, sitting on the arm of Thrynn’s seat giggling. The woman was a tall, beautiful Nord with blond hair and a charming smile. 
  Nox felt a pit of jealousy bubble in her as she pushed it away, she walked up to the couple feigning a bored expression. Standing to her full 5’6” height, she still figured the nord towered over her. Nox had an athletic build, she had full lips, a small nose, and large hazel eyes that stood out against her olive skin. She noticed a fleck of something on the woman’s bottom lip but it was only after a second she realized the woman had kissed off some of Thrynn’s warpaint. 
   “Did you get those rooms?” She asked blandly. 
   “The one behind me,” he said and she pushed passed him into the room. She was still raw from their session only about an hour ago and he already had a new woman in his arms. She reminded herself they had never declared themselves a couple but she was still hurt. She took one of the books from the shelf in the room and sat at the small table in the room. She began flipping through pages trying to focus for a while when Thrynn walked in and closed the door behind him. He had a plate stacked with food and a tankard of what she assumed to be ale.
   “I figured you could pick off my plate if you aren’t going to get something of your own,” he said, placing it down on the table between them and sitting in the seat to her right. “Are you alright?”   “Yes.” She didn’t take her eyes off the words she wasn’t reading. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his broad chest. 
   “You’re jealous,” He observed. 
   “I quite enjoy feeling like I’m used,” She said dryly.
   “She came over to me,” he began.
   “She has your war paint on her lips,” 
   “I’m in here with you,”
   “You don’t want to be,”
   “Hey! I’m in this town for you. I could be back in the cistern right now,” he reminded her and she sighed knowing he was right. “So she kissed my cheek and gave me attention?”
    “It… hurt,” She mumbled, finally pushing the book away from her. She studied the bandages on her hands. He let out a heavy breath and pulled her chair closer to him so she was facing him with wide eyes. He noticed she had undone her braid that his fingers must have ruined. 
    “Give me a kiss,” his voice was softer. She hesitated before leaning in to meet his lips. When they parted she snaked a hand to his plate and took a piece of cheese to nibble on. He had a satisfied smirk knowing he was smart to have brought extra food in. When they finished eating they retired to bed so they could get an early start in the morning. She couldn’t help but still feel hurt despite being wrapped in his arms all night. 
   Her body was numb from the weight of his arm across her middle when she woke up. Knowing she couldn’t fall back asleep she decided to get breakfast in the same style Thrynn had the night before, piling it all onto one plate and sitting at the table to enjoy some fruit. She gazed over at him with his arm draped over his eyes as she popped a snowberry in her mouth. She took another and aimed the pea sized barry at the snoring nord. As she let it fly from her fingers she hit her desired target watching the berry arch into his mouth, making him cough and sputter. The berry pulled him from sleep abruptly as he sat up and spit it out.
   “Are you trying to kill me?” he exclaimed as she giggled. 
   “A single snowberry can't kill the almighty Thrynn. I got us breakfast come eat,” she had the berries and a sweet roll for herself but got him a roasted pheasant breast and some venison stew. She longed for the fruit her parents used to have shipped up from Cryodil. The strawberries and oranges, all the delicate fruits that wouldn't grow in hearty Skyrim. 
   Thrynn rubbed his eyes before he made his way to the table and took the remaining seat. He blinked a bit and rested his forearm on his knee as he continued to fight against sleep in his eyes by pinching the bridge of his nose. She pushed the cup of water to him, urging him to rehydrate after yesterday. 
    “I figure after breakfast we can leave for Riften. It’s dawn in half an hour,” that fact made him groan a bit. She always woke before him but it was rare she wouldn’t let him sleep in or wake him up so unpleasantly although they only shared beds outside of the guild. “There’s plenty of abandoned carts along the road we can haul you back in if you prefer,” she giggled into the cup she was about to sip from. He barely looked up, just tipped the bottom of her cup so it would splash down her face and in her nose making her gasp and sputter much like how she woke him up. “I deserved that…” She admitted once she caught her breath enough to speak. He just chuckled and moved his focus to the plate.
cont: https://www.wattpad.com/1055007722-sneak-thief-chapter-2-welcome-to-whiterun
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Is this abuse? I know is long but I really need some help.(Not asking for anything monetary don’t worry).
I truly don’t know. Sometimes I really wanna go. I really wanna leave the house and start a new life, but, then other times I feel like I wouldn’t make it without her. Like I don’t deserve it or my life would be empty. Because I don’t hate her and she isn’t always bad so maybe I am exagerating? But I just really need to know.
Maybe many of you will find it weird that I didn’t post anything before this I made a new account because for some reason posting it from my main scares me. Idk why.
Excuse my english is not my first language.
Growing up I thought my mom was the best. She let me go out with my friends and invite them home. 
In exchange I had to be perfect. Perfect grades, perfect girl, always smile, always positive, always happy and obedient.
I remember that I grew up very quiet, ‘cause we weren’t allowed to say anything in response to her yellings, also shy and with cero skills to make friends and such a low self-esteem.
She would yell about anything, if we accidentally broked a glass, spill the water, fail a test. You see, we really didn’t do much because punishment for this things were physical, with a belt or such. We didn’t curse or raise our voices. Never. In no place.
I remeber she would say how grateful we should be because she gave us a house, food, clothes, I think, since I was like eight or seven, I never really thought it was her responsibility at some level.
It was weird when she will shows some love. She was a bad person. Now I see. I grew uncomfortable with physical contact even small and innocent touches.
She will always talk about how her life was the worst, how her mother was terrible, how lucky I was for having such an amazing mother.
She will pull our hair, yell for no reason, hit us at the slightest thing, if she was in a bad mood we’ll have to be quiet, because if we laugh or enjoy ourselves things wouldn’t be pretty.
Once she went as far to tell me I was so ugly.
A few time, I don’t even remember why she will let us outside the house and wouldn’t let us in.
One of this times was because I have asked for a toy for Christmas and my sister shoes, so how could I be so selfish to let our stepfather buy her no toy. I tried to explain her that she wanted that but she pull me for the arm and trew me outside. I cried for at least one hour. I should let you know that we didn’t have a patio or something it was just the entrance for a bunch of houses in a very ugly place. Now looking back I could have been abducted.
I remember feeling so so guilty when she finally switch to a good mood and let me in and play.
When she was angry, my sisters and I would lock ourselves in the room because we were terrified of her, she would hit things, yell curses and say how awful her life was. It was really scary, still is.
She call us ungrateful so many times when we accidentally broke something, some other times she will come to our room crying with a martyr expression telling us how selfish we are, how she is suffering, how she tries her best and we are just awful people who don’t appreciated.
She always told us that many parents wouldn’t let their childs dress however they liked, even when we wouldn’t wear anything significant just your regular shirt and pants. I thought she was right. I was so lucky.
She will always guilt trip us. We grew terrified of somethings that weren’t even important. Like a door smashed to hard, the principal door opening to fast or violently, people cursing under their breats, the groceries been put down to fast, the laundry been done to quietly, our names say it fully, a loud noise, a different tone of voice on our friends, a locked door, footsteps outside our door.
I would be the one who always apologize, because, she say and I quote she never apologizes.
When in school, luckily I was self sufficient, my sisters, however, needed a little help, she will not miss a chance to tell us how stupid we were, how useless, how we will ended up in the streets beggin for food, how she was so done with us. I will have to quietly sneak around to help them without her seeing me. Eventually they stop telling her that they have homework when it wasn’t extremely necessary.
She will threat us with leave, and some may saw it as a joke, but when you are an eight year old and you see that crazy look on your moms face you get a different feeling.
If we cried when she tell us how worthless we were, she, then, will continue to tell us how weak we were in that case. That we should stop crying, why will we cry for everything.
When we asked for things for school she will yell about how we saw her only as a bank and didn't respect her till we grew scare of asking for this things.
She would make me tell her everything and eventually I thought I was doing it because I trust her, and that many girls didn’t have that.
We weren’t allowed to be angry, because, there was nothing to be angry about WE SHOULD BE GRATEFUL, if we were angry she will get angry, she never asked us why we felt that way just to stop right now or we’ll see.
She will always praise me for not having many friends and being completely unable to keep relationships because when they told me they love me I will be to terrified and had the need to run away. (Not only romantically). She will tell me how much I was like her. No friends and always hurting boys. I felt sick. (I do have one friend that has sticking with me since forever don’t worry).
Once I went to visit my grandmother from my father's side, one of the few places I feel safe in. I told her I wanted to stay there, I figured she will be happy about it, but she was furious and called everyone and even went on a six hour trip from our house to my grandmother's that same day.
She will have a laugh and be so proud of her being “dangerous” she will even call herself a psychopath and tell us; “Don’t do that one thing, remember I am crazy”. So of course, we were perfect.
I don’t wish for anyone to understand how sad is to lock the door because your mother on the other side is angry and you are terrified. When this happened we wouldn’t even go to the bathroom till we make sure she was in her room.
In school, when we for some reason tell her about how we struggle she will always tell us how easy it was for us, because in her times everything was really difficult and WE had it so easy.
I always liked to learn but that fade away. I always had to be first of the class, which made me be seen as an arrogant girl and I hated it when teacher praise, because the other kids will feel belittled by me. They never mistreated me. They were good kids. The thing is I wasn’t being the best for myself I was being force to be the best, which took away all my love for learning, because I knew what happened if I weren’t the best.
In fourth grade, I thought someone will pass me and be first of the class, I accidentally told her and she got really mad. When afterwards I tried to apologize and help her with something she pushed me away and told me to stip pretending to be a good daughter. I remember when the teacher told me I was first I was really happy because my mom wouldn’t hate me anymore and that I had win over her and afterwards feel gross when I remembered she was my best friend at the time and that I have never felt glad I was over someone else.
My stepfather at the time will joke about how he will buy us some hooks so we will hang ourselves to the wall till it was time to sleep because we weren’t allowed to do anything.
Growing up I thought beating children was an okay punishment, till one of my friends told me she has never been touch in that way and look at me half surprised half worried that I thought it was normal and it was for everyone. I recall thinking that was to weird that she wasn’t physically punished.
She humiliated us publically plenty of times.
We grew afraid of everything. I develop anxiety, and maladaptive daydreaming also “hypochondriac tendencies” and probably other things but I rather not saying since I haven’t gone to a therapist in a long time. You see, apparently, in a recent fight we had she told me she knew I need it a psychiatrist but she decided not to pay for one because medice will make me feel weird and she was worried about me.
After diagnosed never got medicine for anxiety or any other kind of help and going outside is just really painful.
My hypochondriac tendencies will make me think I was sick, I had a tumor, cancer, internal bleeding, I will go terrified to my mother and tell her that I felt like I was gonna have a heart attack and she later will make fun of this with my older brother, who didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.
Intrusive thoughts were there as well. Like I will go on a car and my brain will shout to open the door and jump and to some extent I was afraid I will do it, or I’ll have a glass plate on my hand and my brain will shout to drop it. I made the mistake to tell her this and she call me crazy, something that she will later denied she did. I felt awful and decided to suffer in silence and always smile like she wanted to.
She has called us ugly sometimes and now denies this. But we remember.
My friends think she’s amazing, when they come around she acts like the cool mom, super funny and chill. I haven’t got the guts to tell them the truth because I’m really ashamed.
She cool down a bit when I stopped letting her treat us that way, I started getting between the belt and my sisters, started to response when something was unfair to me or my sisters, when she insulted them, but sometimes I have to keep it quiet because I’m still afraid, those moments happen when I explode and get really angry.
She still mistreats us horribly. We still have to cry alone and console her when she cries.
My sisters and I learn to cry alone, to always smile, never argue and talking feelings is so hard and painful.
She always taught us to be cold. To show no emotion and praise me when I remain unbothered by the outside world but laugh at my sister when she cried because of something, “she’s so sensitive”, she said.
She, also, cheer herself for being so cold, bitchy, evil and for “hating people” and being so unique. She has a childish behavior and always take on us when her boyfriend breaks up with her, and I wish he runned away but I feel so happy when they get back together cause then she is in a good mood and even buys us things like popcorn.
In the last big fight we had, I told her EVERYTHING, she said that she had done her best and that she was sorry that I FELT that way, she told me that I had to let go of it and get my life together, that when I have children I will understand when I told her I didn’t want to have babies she told me I didn’t knew what life has on store for me. She went on to tell me how her life had been so hard, and how I should move on and that my issues weren’t her fault because I had always been a weird kid and my mental problems just development from childhood to my teens, she never said she was sorry, just keep saying me to MOVE ON and to leave if I thought that was the best for me. (I’m 17 and even when I have send and give away resumes for a job, since I’m a minor no one has hired me yet). So how could I live.
I told about my suicidal thoughts and she went on to tell that if I wanted to die just go on with it and do it.
At the end when I was winning the argument she started to cry and yell that she couldn’t breath. Afterwards I had to apologize to bring peace, as usual, and she told me that of course she loved us and didn’t wanted us death otherwise she would had already killed us.
I can’t even count the times that I had to console my sisters of crying to sleep and try it to lift them up and assure them they are loved, and I feel so sad because they are only ten and fourteen and I don’t think they should be so low.
We have self-esteem issues, trust issues, we can’t express emotions in a healthy way, because we feel ashamed of having them or like is gonna bother people among other things.
Idk how many people will read this but honestly one or two opinions will be just perfect.
What do you guys think?
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Okay so here's some stuff if ya want (aka about self #1)
I don't have a theme for this page or any general ideas of what I'll end up doing with it. So here are some bulletin points about me and stuff and life I guess idk what I'm doing.
- Anxiety to the max, up to the point where I get nervous before saying my name for role call in school and then curse myself when I say my name cause I'm sure that I pronounced something wrong.
- The Office is best show. Currently on season 3, and dying of laughter.
- Also Stranger Things
- Netflix anime live actions suck. Especially Death Note. That was a sad, sad day when it was released.
- Combat boots, beanies, and wide rimmed glasses make me really happy.
- Bant shirts, black leather jackets, and chokers also make me happy.
- I like acoustic music by people like Dodie Clark but I also like MCR and Get Scared and other emo music.
- I apparently am "an edgy teen," as I have been told.
- I like horror but I also like Steven Universe so I don't know what's wrong with me.
- I want to be girly and cute but also be tough and edgy. Overall, tough and edgy won.
- I have maladaptive daydreaming disorder. If you don't know what that is, look it up. I'm not explaining it.
- feminist. And I swear if anyone says "well I'm not like that" in response to any rant I might post I will get upset.
- anime is cool. Favorites include Death Note, Another, Re:zero, and Wolf Children.
- Hot Topic.
- Thomas Sanders is a lovely human being do not argue with me he is.
- Halsey and Melanie Martinez. Don't lecture me about recent politics, I'm sick of hearing about it.
- BuzzFeed.
- Amino.
- Stephen King, Jk Rowling, Neal Shusterman, and Terry Brooks are pretty cool people.
- common catchphrases include "Vale" "but wait there's more" and "please no."
- I awkwardly mumble a lot
- severe performance anxiety
- clocks are cool.
- so are cars from the classics era.
- and ferrets.
- Swimming and biking are like the best things.
- I broke my bike so now I just walk around a lot.
- I own a farm with chickens, goats, a horse, some dogs, some cats, and bees.
- I hate bees.
- Future New York Times author. Just you wait.
- Writing is all that is truly left of me.
- Many book ideas will come in the future.
- Books are nice.
- Can run in heels, despite having only worn them like twice.
- wants to wear makeup but lacks the skills and materials.
- The Labrynth is cool. So is Tim Burton. So is Laika.
- Coraline is best book. The Cat is the best character.
- stop motion is awesome. Bite me.
- I wanna live in Germany, and am currently taking German at my school.
- the fact that my school offers German as a course proves that it's better than yours.
- brown and orange are underrated.
- but yellow and blue make the best color scheme.
- Brocoli is amazing screw your guys.
- THE ANIMATION SQUAD.
- YouTube cause I'm lazy.
- Excuse me I'm sad.
- People either make me feel amazing and happy or completely tear me down and leave me ina toxic, horrible mental state. There is no in between.
- wattpad and fanfiction.net.
- Lots of information about mental disorders, therapy, and psychology has been recorded in my brain.
- Mom friend. Will support you and help with problems. Makes food and gives hugs. Very protective, and will keep you from being dangerous and stupid.
- Can perform blessings and exorcisms if given the proper materials.
- knows some weird random things simply due to researching for stories.
- Disney and Pixar are cool.
- Coffee but also not Starbucks please no Starbucks I hate that store.
- Small business coffee stores are much better thanks.
- pastries are nice.
- Contacts are cool but I'd never wear them.
Okay this post has gotten long . That's all for now, so...
Vale.
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