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actualbird · 11 months

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hi zak! I saw the tags you left on a reblogged post about Luke and suffering in relation to catholicism and that made me think. one of my classmates used to mention "the catholic guilt" (particularly about having desire), and I just thought it fits Luke so well. He felt so guilty about loving Rosa (and leaving her alone...) for so long T-T. Also, I'd love to hear more of your thoughts about catholic and filipino luke if you'd like to write about it!

irt to these deranged tags i left on this post abt suffering as salvation and luke forever ago, screencapped below for reference

hello hello! sorry this response took Ages but now im finally down to answer this so....

//steeples hands.....is luke pearce catholic coded? to Me, yes, and ive been casually throwing around this concept ever since 2021 HAHA. the filipino bit is actually just me projecting, so i wont go too much into that, but the religious bit Is something i wanna talk about. and i apologize in advanced for how long this response is gonna end up being

quick disclaimer b4 i start tho: im Not a theologian or an expert in religious theory, im just some guy who went through over a decade of catholic school and lives in the philippines, a primarily catholic country. this whole response is not saying "catholicism bad." it's more the institutions from where we experience catholicism from can twist it into something harmful, and i got to experience that first hand and how it affects one's view of themselves

ANYHOO, LET'S START FROM THE BEGINNING

like....the Beginning beginning

part 1: in the beginning, adam and eve did an oopsie so now we're all saddled with original sin (i swear this is important to luke pearce, bear with me)

quick recap on those who are unfamiliar: in the book of Genesis, god told adam and eve not to eat from the tree of knowledge. and then they did. this was the first ever sin in the history of humankind, and it is inherited by all humans through birth. so like, yay, happy entrance into the world, newly born baby child! you are guilty of sin already. this original sin is most usually absolved though through baptism, so it's not too much of a problem. but what im interested here is less of the nitty gritty semantics and more of the concept this all puts forth:

that under catholicism and similar denominations, a child, somebody who has not done any wrong at all, is inherently tainted by sin

now, the Good reaction to sin or any wrongdoing one has done is to recognize it and to atone for forgiveness. and within the "recognition" part is where guilt lies. functionally, guilt has a purpose. it makes us realize that we had done something wrong, it makes us feel remorseful, and it adds motivation to atone, to turn a new leaf, and to be better. in healthy amounts, guilt is useful and a natural part of being conscious over the things you do. and in unhealthy amounts, guilt is agonizing.

but thats for stuff you actually Did.

if the thing you are guilty for isnt actually something you were responsible over, the guilt cant do anything to make any of it better. you cant be a better person from it, because you didnt even do it. it just sits there, making you feel horrible for something that was out of your control. but because guilt is a Good thing to do, it doesnt matter if it's functional or not. it needs to stay. because it's Good, and the sin youre saddled with (whether or not you were responsible) is Bad

now let's bring in luke

luke's parents died when he was very young. this led him to living with mc's family, and a huge insecurity and fear he had from the beginning was that he felt guilty for burdening them, for stealing the love and care from mc's parents when that shouldve been for mc alone. the story SSR Shape Of You goes into this particular childhood experience extensively (and i highly reccommend it to anyone who hasnt read it yet), and tells us that his guilt was so bad that he wanted to run away and even erase himself from existence.

but luke didnt even do anything wrong

at the time, he was a child. he had no bearing whatsoever in the accident that killed his parents, he had no sway over who wouldve ended up looking after him, he had no control over the situation. like a newborn baby born under catholic doctrine, luke finds himself inherently tainted by and guilty for the circumstances that landed him to where he was.

this kind of pattern is going to follow him for the rest of his life, and the concept of inherent sin and inherent guilt begins to evolve. if luke can find himself guilty for things out of his control, then he can also find himself guilty for things that arent even sins in the first place

key example: love

like you said, luke feels immense guilt over loving mc. but why? love is the opposite of a sin, afterall.

it's just a sin when luke does it. because luke sees himself as inherently bad, and sees mc as inherently good. he sees himself as unworthy of her or someone who will just bring pain into her life, and causing pain someone you love is bad. if love is the knife he uses to hurt someone he loves, then that love is bad. that love should not be realized, and luke should feel guilty for even yearning for her.

by this point i think it's obvious that original concept has become twisted and overly punishing, even cruel. and thats because:

a lot of institutions teach catholic doctrine in an unhealthy and harmful manner. this is why many catholics and lapsed catholics experience The Catholic Guilt(TM). what was originally a pretty reasonable thing gets blown out of proportion from the places we learn these things from, and then getting exposed to this for majority of our lives lets it worm its way into our brain where it'll tend to stay

and if one's brain also has a tendency for self hatred and/or mental illness........well. it all gets worse.

it's clear in canon that luke is uhhhh not the most mentally well individual. his guilt is so overwhelming that it's the driving force in so many of his choices, stories, and experiences. which is big reason #1 for why luke just seems so catholic to me, because of the sheer intensity of his guilt and how he sees himself as inherently bad and unworthy.

but in the roadmap of sin, thats only the beginning. because the process goes:

sin (bad) -> recognition of the bad aided by guilt (good) -> atonement to become better (good)

which leads to big reason #2

part 2: suffering, pain, and misery as atonement

it's important to note that catholicism does not posit that "suffering is good", but there is a clear pattern of veneration for people who endure suffering under noble causes. many, many people in catholic history have been martyred (and many also sainted), one of the biggest examples being jesus himself.

pain is not good, but someone who chooses to take it on for good reasons (self-sacrifice, martyrdom, putting others above one's self) or stays good in spite of all the pain they experienced (unwavering faith, a heart of gold), well, THAT person is good.

however, like a lot of stuff in catholicism, things get twisted into extreme variations because of how it gets taught or experienced. it doesnt take a genius to see how "people who endured pain for good reasons were brave and devoted people" can transform into "to experience pain is inherently noble" when you take into consideration that many sins (like, of the seven deadly sins variety, pride, sloth, lust, etc etc) are variations of indulgence.

specifically over-indulgence, yes, but there's a dichotomy now. here, in the list of Good Stuff are things that feel not-so-good, and over in the list of Bad Stuff are things that do feel good

bad stuff is a sin, and from part 1, sins are things you should be guilty for

and now, to feel good is also bad, so you should be guilty for that. which reinforces the concept that to feel bad is good.

congratulations, you've unintentionally glorified suffering and demonized pleasure! //sad trumpet noises

you can see this kind of thinking pretty clearly in luke pearce. there are the big examples like the previous one i brought up, where he feels so guilty for his feelings for mc. but it appears even in smaller casual situations, like in his 1st birthday event story. this moment was seared into my brain

"can i look forward to this?" is indicative of hesitating in the face of happiness. even something as mundane as anticipating a birthday surprise is something to be approached with caution, feels too good to be true, to be allowed, because feeling good is bad and luke doesnt see himself worthy of it

but okay, we're all guilty now of the horrible sin of enjoying life. what comes next? atonement, becoming better, growing from the bad to become good, right?

and what better way to cleanse one's self from the sin of feeling good but through the nobleness of enduring pain?

luke is guilty over the sin robbing burdening mc and her family -> thats okay he's leaving for college anyway! wont be able to burden them there -> oopsie the NSB happens but hey at least this lone wolf suffering is a great way to atone for his past sin -> oh god the guilt of abandoning mc though -> oh GOD the mission that killed everybody but him -> NEW ACHIEVEMENT: SURVIVOR'S GUILT ON TOP OF THE CATHOLIC GUILT! -> oh GOD he's even guiltier now of his feelings for mc because of his illness, he'll only bring pain to her, how selfish of him to have feelings like this, bad and wrong -> the best way to handle this is to stay away from her to let her live in peace (lacking the pain that luke will bring) and deprive himself of her who brings him joy (inflicting pain of separation onto sinner as punishment) -> the path to salvation (to being good, because only in being Good is someone worthy of love) is through constant suffering and endless self-deprivation

kinda insane how luke's self-perceived sins and self-inflicted sufferings gain compound interest of misery, but his spiral into self-loathing is littered with this kind of nonsensical "because i did [THING], i should deserve pain/NOT deserve happiness"

for luke, suffering became the mode of atonement, it became the solution for sin and guilt.

part 3: conclusion

to wrap this all up, i wanna make it clear that i dont necessarily think luke is like, catholic in the story. nor is even it a headcanon i have. it's more that the intensely self-punishing thought patterns luke has in relation to guilt and suffering are very, very familiar. it resonates in a way that is horridly relatable to people who have experienced these specific catholic experience woes, but it can also resonate in completely different ways to other people as well.

but given that....yeah. based on my own experiences, all this //gestures at too-long response, is why i keep using catholic language and imagery whenever i talk about luke. it's so familiar. he's so familiar. luke would not be out of place in a filipino catholic high school crying during a 3 day retreat

thanks for the ask!!!

#tears of themis #moonstruck-writing #asks #luke pearce #xia yan #tot luke #tears of themis analysis

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pendragora · 4 months

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so yeah hard mental health times. i need to yell into the void. beware.

special disclaimer for my moots that feel the pressure of helping others: dont even think about it. dont feel the need to say anything, if you opened this.

its okay. ill be okay.

for the past two weeks ive been balancing being sick and trying to work to end semester well with my students. i am still trying to understand how my work in this community college actually ... works. it is hard sometimes. some days are better than the others, sometimes i feel like an absolute shit, sometimes i feel like garbage. it is fine. i know the source of this and, unfortunately, the source won't go away. it's the background noise of my life - being autistic.

unfortunately, this is not something that can be resolved. the pressure of being an autistic person in the world of neurotypical people is constant, even when i am on my own inside of my home. usually it is just about not being normal enough. i am used to it. as much as i try to go by with my little rules, my own routines and categorizing things the way they should be - it is not always a winning strategy because human interaction is anything but structured and operated by rules. in times when all i built to assist myself fails, my main concern is my own feelings - i tend to dramatisize a lot, which is, shocker, also an autism thing for me. no matter the therapy, no matter the work i put in, it is a to-go strategy for my mind always, and i guess it is to stay with me for my whole life. my own feelings and my own self becomes a priority when i can't have any control on the situation because it is very easy to fall into a spiral and make yourself feel unworthy of life. recently i had a breakthrough. i managed to get out of the dramatic state after an unpleasant situation in class within ten minutes time of working through it and rationalizing. it felts good. i felt proud.

mainly i just... i think i wanted to say that it was really hard to manage both the world around you and yourself. some days i feel like i am my own supervisor, my parental figure (tbh ive always been my own parent of sort) and at the same time my own trouble kid in the class. i have to at the same time mask and put out "neurotypical" persona to work through situations while my mind is acfively spiralling with intense emotions and i am throwing my all into attempting to stop it.

it's... tiring. it requires a lot. every single thing in life requires something of me. i have to put in effort into the smallest things because if i dont do it right i will be infinitely upset about myself and it will serve as a reminder that i am different. that even with people i feel most comfortable around, with the closest friends of mine i feel detached and isolated because first i must do things right and then i must do everything else. one time i was so stressed that i did not manage myself and went into my initial, not learned, reactions recently and it ended in a disaster with my friends that was looming over me for weeks prior to december.

it is just... hard. it is hard to always manage yourself. and i cant even tell anyone really because i dont... i dont want pity, or comfort, or anything else. i just want to be acknowledged. i just want to be told that indeed it is hard what i am doing. that i am doing great still. that all of my effort is not pointless.

i know it will never be any easier. i know that this is my reality as an autistic person. and im fine with that. it is life and i guess it is what it is. as long as im alive i am grateful for what i have even if my life just has to complete a combo of things that make me stand out and be different. i learned how to live the way i am. i learned and i will learn again and again how to live my own life. if only i could just... get that pat on the back and a hug from somebody who would understand and see me and efforts put.

i will put a little trigger warning here for suicide attempt. if somebody is reading this, don't read further. it will only be a mention, but still. need to make sure it's okay.

———————————————————————

i've been really unstable recently because in first half of december two years ago i almost ended this all for myself. it was a positive thing. it made me realize i needed to change somethint, i needed to seek help. and i did. i was in therapy. i was medicated. i somehow got out of the university and now my life is better than ever. no depression. no panic attacks. no desire to die. i live well and i want to live. i dont wake up every morning with the feeling of dread. i don't wake up to a regret. i wake up ready for the day. i wake up, go to my work and enjoy what i do. mostly i am... happy for the place i am at. everything else that is a dramatic worry of mine will be figured out and dealt with. i know i can handle it and find the best way for myself. i've done that before and i will do it again.

but because of how traumatic this time was for me two years ago, i am not very okay now. it is another background noise. it is another backhround noise that adds to all the other noises i have. and it is too much. this time it is too much. so i step down. take a deep breath. type this. i feel tears streaming down my cheeks, which is good.

it will be better. i will get better.

#lena exposed #not delete later but a secret option: to bury under countless reblogs

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gayemeralds · 2 years

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just curious, you've said the two worlds thing is why the sonic movies are bad but you've said you like sonic x where it's also canon and present within the story and a lot of the original plot points of series 1 hinge on it? im just curious as why :0

see i think the two worlds thing AND having it live action made the sonic movies bad- they had to integrate humans and the human world because of limitations of CGI and special effects. thats why the first movie was so Not Sonic- it focused so much on the humans.

sonic x did have human co-protagonists, and tbh i think they're like, okay. they all have quite a lot of personality so i don't honestly dislike them, i just don't really want them. i just want a sonic adaptation that's actually faithful to the lore and the characters we've already established. i don't mind new characters but i want them as reoccurring side characters at best, or just for one adventure. they serve their narrative purpose, we dump them and move on (ex, shahra, merlina, elise, etc). tbh.

sonic x is also easily able to integrate a lot of the game verse mechanics because of the chaos control set up. all sorts of places from mobius were transported to earth, as well as characters. we also get to see them go back to mobius. to be honest, you can pretty easily forget that sonic and the crew are aliens on another planet because so much of it is basically like the games. there's a whole cast of mobians on earth and it follows so many of the game plots.

you really can't forget that aspect in the sonic movies, because you only have, as of now, three mobian characters. and you only had one in the first movie. they're just not integrating enough of the things that make sonic sonic. it's just so jarring to only have sonic in the first movie. it's barely a sonic movie.

also sonic x was actually relatively faithful in their adaptations of sonic games. its not perfect, but its not that bad. they at least had sonic adventure one before sonic adventure two. honestly, i think they did a pretty good take on doing the games out of order, and not starting essentially from scratch- everything is already established, they didn't bother with sonic 1, 2, 3, or CD. and by games out of order, they had cream involved in the main cast when she wouldn't have been until sonic advance, after sonic adventure. they mess around a bit with chronology but sonic's notorious for having fucked up timelines anyway. its interesting but its still pretty faithful to its roots.

(sonic x season three is A WHOLE DIFFERENT BALL GAME. no longer adapting the games but doing its own unique story. i can let that pass because ITS ACTUALLY A REALLY GOOD FUCKING STORY. fr if it wasn't sonic it would be hailed as like one of the best seasons ever on television. insane.)

additionally, the characters all retain essentially their game personalities. my biggest gripe with the sonic movie is that in their effort to give sonic some sort of found family, and because of the two worlds thing, they striped sonic of what made me like him, and gave him a new personality. it's because they gave sonic parents, instead of another child co-protagonist, and because of the big two worlds thing, that made sonic into a different, and frankly, less appealing character.

i suppose it's the idea that the two worlds theory kept sonic separated from the rest of mobius for years on end. it's not such a big deal in sonic x, because they're only gone from their planet for a few months. but it's huge with sonic because he's missing for like a decade. and that fundamentally altered his character in a way i don't really like.

i do have my gripes with sonic x, but i do like that they stuck to a pretty core theme of a few sonic games- sure, sonic might be forced to have a human co-protagonist, but chris was just a kid like sonic. sonic befriends all sorts of human kids and eventually teaches them a life lesson- to live, to loosen up, to smile, to enjoy things while you still have them. he does the same thing with chris. the sonic movies have sonic's co-protagonists as adults, which fundamentally changes the dynamic, and i frankly think, for the worse. they squeeze in an unnecessary found family. they give sonic parents.

it's the combinations of being CGI and the two worlds thing that bled into a version im not super fond of. to fit with what they had, they had to scrap mobius and a bunch of characters and then rebuilt the series from scratch in a very unappealing way.

tldr: the two worlds and cgi combined made sonic into an unappealing character. they changed the dynamics by giving sonic parents instead of another kid co-protagonist. sonic x was fine because it still adopted the game plots, kept pretty good characterizations, and ultimately integrated a lot of concepts and characters from the games despite being from another world.

#idk i have a few thoughts on the sonic movies #i just think starting the movies with ONLY sonic as a character reallllllly hurt them #they started off on the wrong foot #master emerald brothel

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aroundthefir · 1 year

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Have you ever been in a DV relationship? If so how did you survive it and move on?

Yeah actually my first boyfriend was abusive in every way possible. I really thought I was going to die in that relationship. I remember I just turned 18 and before I knew it he was in my blind spot and had complete control over me. He moved into my apartment within a few weeks of meeting. We broke up many times and got back together. Probably for years we would sneak behind our friends and families backs. It was kinda a blessing and a curse that he lived in the state next door. It was nice when we were broken up because he was like 5/6 hours away. But the cops were called off and on. I have a vivid memory of going to South Dakota with him, his bestfriend passed away from a drinking and driving accident and my ex blamed me for it. I just ran out of that house because I knew what he said wasn’t true. He just wanted to put me down. He followed me around this neighborhood in his car and grabbed me by my hair and forced me in his car. I mean it was mid winter and everything was super icy. That was a moment that I will never forget. I was so close to making it to safety and here I was in his car again. His demeanor when he was upset and behind the wheel was one of the scariest things I’ve ever experienced and I didn’t have a car at the time. I was basically stranded. I remember my parents drove all the way to SD to come save me. He threatened to beat my dad with a baseball bat if they took me away from him and I STILL stayed. I think the next day got worse and I had to secretly email a family friend to pick me up and he drove 5 hours to come save me. My friend called the cops and the cops picked me up. I still met up with “D” for a few times way later but the same scenario kept happening. Im really really surprised im still alive honestly.

I barely survived. This relationship took a toll on me for a really long time. It was probably my hardest break up. It took many attempts to leave and try to fix things but nothing could be fixed. Once you see that side of someone- it’s poisoned. Trust issues will rise, things will continue to get worse. So when you see that side of someone you can’t unsee it. There was no official break up we would continue to see eachother. It was my worst mistake. He did some really fucked up things that will have me mildly traumatized for the rest of my life. You don’t want that. Life is too short to stay in relationships where you aren’t valued or respected. Time and you’re own strength is the only thing that will heal you. The sooner you leave the sooner you can get through this process you know? I’ve found so much comfort in being alone now I really don’t need anyone Actually im scared of most ppl

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cvokhauz · 2 years

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i am spiralling for multiple reasons and maybe writing it out will help. it’s very difficult to get my own thoughts under control, i have not experienced this since i was about 13. first of all, my bachelor’s thesis is due today and while it is 99% percent done i keep putting off the actual putting of it in the digital repository for minuscule reasons because once it is there, that’s IT and i cannot change it and i live in fear i will notice some glaring mistake immediately after i do that, which is irrational as fuck. anyway i gotta basically just wait for the title confirmation and upload it and then go print it. (which costs money which is another thing i am paranoid about i keep spending and costing people money and for what, being an uncertain useless fucking wreck) and then whatever will be will be.

but being in this state for so long is making me question my sanity. i can’t fucking eat, i keep hurling up everything except like orange juice and mana, i am tense and have a pit of anxiety in my stomach which makes me wish for literally anything else. passive suicidal ideation extremely common.

now, i’ve convinced myself i have ADHD or some form of neurodivergency because i fit a lot of the experiential symptoms reported by other people, mostly interest-focused attention, highly fluctuating, trouble concentrating, memory like a fucking colander, need for stimulation (always doodling, drawing, reading)

but previously (at the Bad Time when i was 13) i got diagnosed with OCD, mostly on the basis of these same spiralling catastrophic thought patterns i am experiencing now, and i distinctly remember being unable to put down a book or any other form of stimulation keeping me occupied and engage with material reality because within like 15 minutes i would start shaking and crying uncontrollably. it feels very much like i am holding on to a last tiny straw to keep myself from slipping back to that place. obviously this is due to high stress of the situation right now, but also i can’t keep going on like this and i have not found meaningful help yet. i keep self-sabotaging by forgetting my appointment dates even if i write them down immediately in several places. i dont remember, i lose my diary, i lose my phone, forget to check email. i’ve tried to pursue clinical diagnosis in a reputable center in prague bc a friend recommended it, which took a tremendous amount of energy to reach out to and communicate out all the bureaucracy, but on the day i was supposed to go there, while on the fucking train to the place, they texted me to say my appointment is cancelled due to the clinician having covid vaccine complications. so since then i haven’t been able to muster up the energy for another try but i really fucking feel like i need to because this situation is unsustainable.

this is all absolutely ridiculous because i am studying psychology and want to become a clinical psychologist myself. lol. also im wondering if the adhd-like symptoms i am exhibiting are maybe partially developed as a coping mechanism for the ocd stuff? thoughts cant spiral if you have a million of them and always jump to the next shiny thing. cant dwell if u cant even concentrate. also i’ve seen my parents this weekend and it really struck me how much of the neurosis and dwelling comes from my dad (is it genetic? is it learned bc he projected it on me when i was small?) and the hyperactivity and self esteem issues from my mum, who is quintessentially an elementary school teacher at all times.

theoretically i know what a healthy goal for my life and mental health looks like, but i can’t fucking. get there. or cant seem to be able to get there. without external support. and the worse it gets the worse i get at reaching for this support. anyway. moral of the story is - even if my bakalářka fails, i will survive somehow and do a new one and get some fucking help hopefully.

i really should see someone about this.

#tw mental health #rant

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xiaq · 3 years

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Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

#purity culture #sex talk #christianity #sex and relationships #sex and religion #mylife #answered asks #aspec #cw sex

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [14]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, violence, guns, death, ptsd, swearing, abuse

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: last chapter you guys :’’’’) im too emo about a fanfic i s2g. there’s an epilogue but this is the official last chapter.

i really appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

You had only heard of the warehouse before, never actually seen it.

Its reputation preceded it. It was only mentioned in passing as a place for the worst of the worst.

It was murky and smelled like rust, concrete and rotting corpses. You had no doubt a few of them would be littering the place. A few tube lights shone over you graciously like a spotlight, barely illuminating the area.

The room you were in was utterly silent. The only exception were noises outside the door; loud shouts and clanging of metal. You assumed it to be people in the other rooms. Your assessment on how tight the ropes were coiled around you earned a few grunts and odd squeaks, but nothing major.

You were bound to a chair, of course, with knots you had used before on others. It felt like a convoluted form of irony. It was firmly nailed to the ground to prevent you from using it against captors. You were gagged; pretty well, by the look of it.

A noise from beside you threw you off track. A quick look to your left and you found Sam in a similar predicament. He shook his head slightly, implying that it was useless to find an opening. At least he was alive and breathing.

“Are you done?” A voice came from behind you, echoing within the four walls. “I really want to get going and you’re taking too long.”

You knew who it was. It was impossible for you to mistake it at this point.

“Don’t mind the noise outside. We’re just torturing a bunch of people to death.”

You roll your eyes out of sheer instinct. The footsteps slowly moved towards the front of the room, heavy and deliberate. The expensive material of his suit shone under the light as he edged in front of you. Only he’d wear Armani to a murder.

The dramatic fuck clearly rehearsed it.

“Hey Buttercup,” Ransone smiled, distinctly proud of himself. Your bite on the bundle of cloth haphazardly shoved in your mouth tightened. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now. Wilson’s no good company.”

You sneak a glance at Sam’s side profile and he looks relatively untouched. There were a few cuts on his face that you could make out under the harsh light but that was it.

“You can’t get out of those, if you're wondering.” He gestured to your current set up. “I told you, Sam. I save my warehouse for special guests. All your fun tools are gone. Took ‘em when you were brought in.”

As your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you faintly make out the presence of two men in the corners of the room, stiff as cardboard. His security.

“Oh! Except this.” He brandished the paper airplane you had brought with you in the utility belt. He’d use anything to potentially get a rise out of you.

“Gettin’ sentimental now, are we?” He tested the tip of the plane with his finger.

You prayed he wouldn’t destroy it. It had more value than he was willing to bet on.

“You must be asking yourselves why you ended up here,” Ransone mused, looking at the plane from all angles. “No need to worry, I’ll tell you.”

You didn't expect anything less from him. Everything about this felt cinematic; the inconvenient lighting, the men standing in the corner. This man oozed drama over efficiency.

“When I was just starting out, people warned me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere, that we’d always stay in the same position because that’s how it’s been for all these years.” He tested the plane, holding onto the body sturdily.

“There were too many big names already. We were one of them, of course. My father did a good job of giving us a solid foundation.” He pulled his wrist back like he was going to launch it, only to never actually do it. He carried it through the air, simulating its flight pattern.

“You remember my father, don’t you? The guy who cut off someone’s finger because they didn’t finish the job.” Ransone really only had one story to tell about his father and he worked it to death. Other than a few handful of times, his father never bothered about his presence much from what you heard. He favoured the ones who were brutal and Ransone- well, he was a glorified theatre kid.

“Of course you do. He was an incredible man.” He laughed crisply. “But he had no real ambition. No drive. I told him we could have been at the top, the ones parents warn their kids about. He didn’t listen to me. He never really paid attention.”

His tone got wistful in the end, eyes distant like he was living the scene out in his head.

“So obviously when he died, I had the chance to really make a difference. Really set us apart. Ten Rings and Hydra had their own niche; they had some ties with the military and the government and whatnot. Crazy motherfuckers, all of them.” He shook his dead in distaste. “But Serpentine- that was closer to home. Same market as us.”

You wondered how long he would take to get to the point. The only distraction you had were the noises that continued outside. An odd gunshot here and there really pulled your attention away from the story.

“Serpentine with their stupid code names. They really thought they were all that.” He sounded embarrassingly like a bitchy teenager. “Who do they think they were fooling with the Norse Gods thing, huh? Naming your leader Odin, his wife Frigga.”

“I fucking hated them,” he spat, face twisting into anger. “Told them to watch out, that I’d end their legacy. They laughed in my face.”

He spun around, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pointed to Sam, “That’s where you come in.”

Sam looked thoroughly irritated with the show that was going on in front of him. If he wasn’t gagged you had no doubt he’d have a few comments to pass. Ones that would get the both of you killed.

“I told you to kill their leader. One job. You fucked that up.” Sam recalling the story of his first mission flashed in your memory. “Let that old nutjob into your head and allowed him to escape. We didn’t know where he was for years.”

“I let it go because I thought Serpentine was done for. Radio silence after Odin disappeared. And they were, until a few years ago when I get news that they have a new leader. Odin’s son, the new heir.” He waved around his hands, mocking the last part of his sentence. “Word on the street was that he wanted to kill whoever murdered his mother in front of his eyes.”

“I thought that was hilarious. You know why?” He laughed humourlessly. “Because that was you. You were the one who killed his mother. You remember that? Your big mission?”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one had even heard of him. His brother’s too soft to take on anything like this. He’s some farmer in England now. But he was supposed to be Odin’s only son. Yet somehow, the only person who could have known this other son existed and actually seen him… was you.”

“Turns out he’s like you. A secret adoption. No record of him anywhere.” You didn’t blink, not once taking your eyes off him in case he decided to go wild. “He should have died that day. You were supposed to kill them.”

Only Ransone would justify killing a kid because it fit his agenda. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and though he tried very hard to shove his ideology onto you, you never complied.

“Goes by Loki now, another stupid codename. Trained by his father who this idiot let go of.” He gestured to Sam callously, “and mad about the murder of his mother that you committed. Serpentine came back pretty quickly after he took control.”

A particularly loud sound of metal slamming would have made you jump had you not been tied down. Ransone swung around in anger, loudly cursing at them for ruining his train of thought. He muttered some more curses under his breath before plastering a fake smile on his face and continuing.

“I’ll admit, he’s a sneaky one. But they grew faster than any other cartel. They somehow knew all our connections, all our targets, our key players. It wasn’t possible,” he shook his head low as he paced up and down slowly. You knew where this was headed. “Unless we had someone giving them information from the inside.”

He stops to look at you.

“I would have forgiven you, Y/N, I really would. You know how I am about second chances.” He looked at you, eyebrows upturned with regretful eyes. “But then you had to go and spy on me for two years.”

You could see Sam turn to you from the corner of your eye, assessing your reaction. You didn't extend the same courtesy to him. You didn’t have any reaction.

“We found out very late, of course. I taught you well,” he chided, his inescapable narcissism making an appearance once more. “But then we had to figure out why. Why you’d betray me and everything I’ve done for you.”

“I still can’t figure that out.” You wanted to scream at him, everything he had taken away from you, everything he forced you to be. “I treated you the best out of everyone I had. You had the best training, the best resources. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere if I didn’t drag you out of that shithole orphanage.”

You had heard of blissfully ignorant, but he was well beyond that at this point.

“Didn’t take too long to connect the dots. What, with Wilson’s great act of charity and your lack of better judgement, both of you managed to fuck up enough to screw me over years later.”

“I initially was only going to have you killed, Buttercup,” he admitted nonchalantly, like your life had no value. “But then we found out that Sam’s been lying to me for a long time too. Been hidin’ his friend a few states away.”

“It was meant to be,” he cooed. “Such a similar past. You could have met each other before, you know? Pierce wouldn’t be the first time you were at the same house on the same day.”

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you had known Sam earlier. Would you have been friends or would you have been forced to kill each other in his sick ‘survival of the fittest’ game?

“It felt poetic to have you both die together, you know? On a mission gone wrong. A full circle.” God, he spent too long planning something elaborate when he could have just put a bullet in your head and ended you the day he found out. Fucking weirdo.

“Made sure I sent you to the same place at the same time. Pierce was dead long before you came, the poor fuck. But then again, collateral damage. No mercy.” He shrugged. “Had everyone at the ready. You should have died that night.”

“But like everything you do,” his voice suddenly rose like a child throwing a tantrum, “you fucked that up for me too. Escaped with his stupid fucking car.”

“None of those useless agents could find you. How could they?” The beauty was that Ransone must have spent too long looking when you were basically right there, just miles away. “You didn’t go to one of our locations and Serpentine hides their safehouses well.”

You still remembered the relief when the door accepted your fingerprint.

It was a long shot but you didn't have anywhere else to go. You weren’t even sure that this house existed.

Another loud crash arrived from the outside with noises that sounded like more gunshots, making Ransone jump this time. Just how many people were being tortured here?

“Keep the volume down, you stupid fucking imbeciles!” he screeched, pounding at the metal door. The decibel reduced, but still continued on.

He dragged his palm across his face in exasperation, talking under his breath to himself. He shook his head before turning back to you.

"Oh, by the way, don't think about escaping. Got every last one of my best agents out here after that stunt you pulled at Pierce’s house,” he says offhandedly.

He takes a second to regroup, get back into character.

“So we released your pictures to the public. Can’t go very far if people are looking for you constantly. It was the only way we could get you to stay in one place.” Ransone raised his shoulders casually. “We had every lowlife out there waiting for one of you to show up.”

“We eventually had someone report Wilson in a town a while away from Pierce. I was making my way there but then you sent me your location on your own. Had men outside your house that night.” He paused, peering at the plane in his hand.

He finally let it go, watching as it barely went any distance before nose diving to the ground. Your eyes trailed after it, hoping he wouldn’t crush it with his foot.

“This is the worst fucking paper plane I’ve ever seen. The balance is completely off.” He stared at it in wonder, picking it up again and shoving it back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Anyway one of them heard you talkin’ about how you’re leaving the next day so we just got ready at the door.”

“Et voila.” He grinned, spreading his arms. “Here we are. Brilliant, wasn’t it?”

Unnecessarily long, but you weren’t going to complain.

“Oh, I forgot you can’t talk.” His mouth quirked downwards into a ‘whoops’.

He took a long pause right in front of you before his hand reached out to cradle your face. “I wouldn’t let those idiots kill you, Buttercup. You deserved better than that.”

He stared unnervingly into your eyes, looking for a hint of anything, any sort of remorse. He wasn’t going to find any. You wished he saw nothing but hatred.

“It’s why I had to kill you myself.” He sighed when you pulled your face away the best you could from his palm in disgust. “But I’ll do you a solid. I’ll give you a chance to beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you’re good enough I’ll let you go.”

You knew he was lying. He had no intention of doing that. He only wanted you to grovel in submission, plead for your life for a fucking power trip.

He ripped off the tape that was over your mouth, making you flinch at the burn. He pulled out the cloth faster than you could spit it out at him.

“Go ahead,” Ransone said smugly. His ego would outlive all of you.

“Him first.” Your mouth was dry and your lips felt chapped. You had clearly been knocked out for a while by then. You had no idea how far away you were from the original location.

“What?” His smile dropped to a frown rather quickly.

“Him first.” You mentioned towards Sam with your head.

“That’s cute.” He laughed, stopping when you didn’t join in. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I’m not saying shit till he does too.” You were bemused, monotonous. You just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.

“Fine,” he huffed when your expression didn’t change. “It’d be fun to watch him beg anyway.”

You hear the rip of the tape from his face, the scrunch of the material before he balled it up and threw it on the floor.

Sam shook his head furiously, forcing Ransone to take a step back swiftly before he hit him.

“Right.” Ransone clapped his hands together. “Let’s get star-”

He was interjected by another loud bang followed by a series of gunshots. Another victim massacred. He groaned in frustration, stamping his feet at the constant interruption. The universe was determined to not let him finish his monologue in peace, and for that, you thanked her.

You looked at Sam, nodding slightly. He gave you a small smile in return, calming the nerves you were beginning to feel.

“Where were we?” Ransone did not look happy; a vein was dangerously visible on his forehead. Now would not be the best time to do anything that angered him. “Yes, go ahead. Beg.”

“Ransone,” Sam began, exhaling lightly. “We knew.”

The smile on Ransone’s face faltered. “What did you say?”

“He said we knew,” you cut in. “You melodramatic fuck.”

Ransone’s grin faded abruptly and it was by far the most satisfying experience you had ever experienced.

“Yeah, we figured it out ourselves a while ago.” Sam had the slightest smirk on his face. “Y/N did, actually.”

“Fuck,” you cursed.

You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you.

“What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?

“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you.

“I’m listening.”

“I think it’s Ransone. He’s been trying to kill us.”

“Why?” He didn’t sound judgemental, hardly even fazed, like it was a completely plausible suggestion. You couldn’t express how glad you were.

“The guy you didn't kill, if he’s the old head of Serpentine, then... I know his son.” Your mouth was dry as your mind raced to piece it together. “He’s the one I didn’t kill.”

“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could see him trying to figure out the connection. “How are you so sure?”

You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale. “I’m going to need you to not react to what I’m going to tell you.”

“Okay...” he trailed off.

“I’ve been working with him for two years. Passing information on to him about Ransone.”

“Wait so that means-”

“I’m the spy. And I think Ransone figured it out. He wants to kill me.”

“You knew,” Ransone stated. He looked like he was in a daze.

Sam looked at you once before nodding. “If you would shut up and let someone else talk for once, we would have told you a while ago.”

“It helped that you confirmed details about Pierce’s death without us having to tell you.” The last conversation you had with him replayed in your head verbatim. “There’s no way you would have known he was dead before we got there unless we told you. Or you did it.”

“We knew you had agents outside the house. Kinda expected that when we gave you the address,” you shrugged the best you could, “Sam’s security cameras got all of them.”

“Made sure that one fuck behind the tree could hear us planning outside,” Sam added. “He wasn’t very stealthy, by the way.”

“Have you decided on a day?”

You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”

“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”

He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, almost like he was crouching instead of sitting.

His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you.

“You knew you were going to be ambushed.”

“No shit.” You nodded.

The loud bangs continued outside the door but you paid no heed to it. The closer it got, the more your stomach jumped, hoping that more people you pissed off didn’t storm in. You had quite a list anyway.

“You knew they were coming,” Ransone appeared like he had gears turning in his own head, trying to add everything up on his own. “Then why didn’t you run?”

“Well, we kinda needed all of you in one place.”

“Huh?” He blinked, not listening to all the commotion that was going on around him. If he didn’t, he was choosing to focus on this instead.

“We had to take out all of you at once,” you disclosed, fidgeting with the rope to see if it would give. “Kinda knew you were waiting to kill us yourself when we gave you the location and nothing happened immediately. You’re too much of a sissy to kill us without backup so we wanted you in one place with the rest of them.”

You tilted your head towards the two men standing in the corner.

“You knew all this while and lied,” Ransone jeered, face twisting into something rather indiscernible; a nice mix of shame and rage.

“Not like we had another choice, man.” You just knew Sam was rolling his eyes. “You think I would voluntarily listen to you monologue like an idiot?”

“You did gag us,” you added, trying to buy as much time as you could. “That’s on you.”

The ropes were still tight as could be and the chair wouldn’t budge. Even your feet were too tightly tied together to do anything. It was what you expected, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Shut up!” Ranone’s face was hideously red.

“You rehearsed it, didn’t you?” Sam called out, taunt in his tone. “With the lighting and shit.”

“He doesn’t have to. He does one a week to some poor fuck who has to listen.”

You couldn’t believe the both of you were teaming up to bully a man who literally held the fate of your lives in his hands. It was something you never imagined yourself doing.

“How do people take you seriously?” Sam laughed. More than yours, his remarks seemed to be ticking Ransone off.

Ransone let out a guttural cry, knuckles so white you were afraid they were going to break. He whips around, stomping over to pull the gun from the hand of one of his bodyguards.

“Easy there, DeNiro, that’s not a stage prop.” Sam chided.

The concrete in front of him suddenly cracks loudly. He looked up, slightly taken aback.

“Next time it’ll be your fucking face,” Ransone snarled, waving the gun around like a maniac. You send a cautionary glance to Sam, telling him to back off. Ransone was volatile. He would act without thinking.

“Why did you kill everyone I was friends with, Vincent?” you asked slowly, trying to divert his mind.

He turned to you, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why did you take everyone from me?” The more you asked, the more it became about genuine curiosity rather than a distraction from shooting Sam in the head.

“Take everyone from- none of them were going to last anyway!” He throws his hands up in the air angrily. “I was saving you from yourself. From the eventual pain.”

His face was desperate, and you for a second forced yourself to think from his perspective. He looked like he truly believed in what he was saying, like he genuinely thought he was supporting you. Like he cared. The thought that maybe he truly wanted to help you was the only way you could comfort yourself for so many years.

“If you were in pain, you wouldn’t perform. I was only pushing you to your full potential,” he continued, a wild smile on his face mixed with eyes rimmed red like he was ready to cry.

Your stomach sank, even though you hated it. It wasn’t about you, it was about what he could get from you.

There was silence. Even the noises outside seemed to have stopped, all waiting for your next move.

“You’re a sick, conniving fuck,” your words waver, and you hope it hits him as hard as it can, “And I can’t wait till you’re dead.”

His face morphed from one of helplessness to slow fury once more. Manipulative prick.

“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one tied up?” He wipes at his nose, voice returning to normal. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I need to know why you let yourself be captured so willingly.”

Your incessant need to know everything stemmed from him and the paranoia he induced in you from when you were a kid. Everything you thought was wrong about you came from him.

“We told you, you overdramatic fuck.” Sam drew the attention away from you thankfully. You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself.

“What, that you needed the team in one place to take us out?” Ransone asked, to no one’s answer. “You and what army?”

“Well, the one who’s been here for a while now,” you pipe up.

No one says anything. Pin drop silence reigns free.

“You said he’d be here,” Sam hissed at you. “How much longer do we keep this going?”

“He said he would,” you argued back, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Ransone asked, but you continued to ignore him.

“What are we going to do if he-”

The door violently exploded off its hinges, sending debris flying everywhere. You clenched your eyes shut and ducked your head to avoid getting smacked in the face with rubble

The dust hadn’t even cleared before multiple rounds were fired. You flinched when your ringing ears hurt more at the sound of gunshots.

You struggle against your ropes, trying to get to Sam. They only get tighter until suddenly your arms break free. Your neck and legs soon follow as you shrug off the ropes that were cleanly sliced off.

Your ears were still getting used to the chaos when you notice someone humming behind you. It took a second to register that it was a fucking Britney Spears song.

“What took you so long?” You coughed, waving the air in front of you to clear it as you stumbled towards Sam.

“I wanted to make an entrance,” Loki said dismissively, following you. “I think I may have overshot it by a few seconds.”

You fell to your knees in front of Sam, quickly moving to untie the familiar knots. He lifted his head to look at you, a thin layer of dust covering his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked in concern, simultaneously untying as fast as you could. It was one you had used many times before; a complicated knot that guaranteed you wouldn’t have been able to make it out of the bondage.

“I think my leg’s asleep but other than that I’m good.”

You give him a small smile, thankful that he wasn’t hurt enough to lose his dry sense of humour. Your hand involuntarily reached up to brush some dust off his cheekbone. The intensity with which he looked at you had you swallowing thickly.

You snapped out of it quickly, working on freeing his legs as Loki took a step behind his chair to cut the rest of him loose.

“This him?” Sam mentioned to Loki, massaging his wrist to return some feeling into it.

“You can just ask me, you know,” Loki commented, but clearly not taking any offence.

“I’m sorry about your family, man.”

You didn’t expect Sam to say that, and from the looks of it, neither did Loki. He stopped for a moment, before continuing to cut the last rope.

“You let my father go,” he said, sawing the last part off, “and although I personally think you should have killed the miserable old bastard, he made it clear that he owed you one.”

The both of you stood up. You glanced around the room, noting how both of Ransone’s bodyguards were on the floor, bullet holes riddling their body.

He himself was beside them, lying facefront on the ground. Armani suit be damned.

“How many more are outside?” Sam asked, tearing your attention away from the bodies on the floor.

“All taken care of.” Loki put the knife back into its sheath on his thigh. “We made quite a commotion. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything.”

“He’s a little dense,” Sam remarked. Most of the noises you heard earlier weren’t just other victims being tortured, although you knew that it was still a large fraction of it.

“Should we go?” you asked, doing a quick sweep of the room. You found nothing moving among the pile of rubble.

“Unless you got anything else left to do.” Loki gestured to the large hole in the wall where the door was.

“I think we’re done.”

He simply nodded, spinning on his heel to walk out the room when someone yelled from behind you.

You all halted what you were doing, slowly turning to look at where the noise was coming from.

“Don’t take another step,” Ransone warned, a gun pointed straight at you, barely able to stand straight. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him. His suit was torn and he had a few streaks of blood down his face. His hair was tousled and unkempt, rougher than it had ever been before. “Or I swear I’ll-”

“Oh, shut up,” Loki interjected, firing a shot into Ransone’s stomach before anyone could even react. He returned the gun to its holster that you didn’t even notice was there on his waist. “He talks too much.”

Ransone staggered back until he hit the wall, knees buckling beneath his weight as he slid to the ground. The gun he pried off his bodyguards lay where he was standing previously.

You ignored Sam’s uneasy questions as you took a step forward.

You picked the gun up, cautiously making your way to Ransone. You crouched next to his body. He looked at you before looking down. You followed his line of sight, watching as he lifted his hands. They were covered in blood.

“How’d he know where to find you?” Ransone’s voice was more subdued than you’d ever heard him.

You reached over, slipping your fingers into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paper airplane that was flattened due to the impact.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left.

You unfolded it, letting a small object, not bigger than a button, fall into your palm. He stared at it before realisation dawned on him.

“I knew you’d take all my weapons, but you wouldn’t get rid of this,” you disclosed, folding the paper plane back to what it was and gently putting it into your pocket. It was still salvageable. “Not if you could use it to hurt me.”

You watched him take a shaky breath, flinching when more blood rushed out of him.

“You can still help me, Y/N. We can get out of here together,” he rasped. “Think about everything we’ve been through. We can work it out. I love you.”

You involuntarily let out a strangled cry at the last part. It was nothing but a last ditch attempt to persuade you, pull you back in.

“Look- look at me. Buttercup,” he croaked when you wouldn’t oblige. “I love you. I’m your home.”

You finally look at him. Look right into his eyes, red rimmed and fading. You look for it, the adoration he spoke of. The care he promised. Anything to make sense of why he would tear you apart time and time again. The love he had for you.

You find nothing. Gray eyes look back at you blankly, desperately, in pain.

“You never were,” you whisper, standing up abruptly.

You raised your arm, pointing the gun at him. He sputtered out more half baked apologies, unaware of anything that was coming out of his own mouth.

You clench your eyes shut, pulling the trigger. He lets out a cry when the bullet lodges in his shoulder.

You take a step back, letting the scene imprint itself in your brain of him powerless on the ground at your will. If you followed what he preached, you’d have ended his life right there. No mercy.

But you weren’t him. And you didn’t ever want to be.

“I need to do something too,” you heard Sam say. You can feel him near you, brushing against you for a moment as he gently reached for the gun you held. You gave it to him, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance.

Ransone looked at Sam as he stood beside you. He fired a single shot into his leg, clearly hitting bone. You hear the same wail from before, mixed with sputtering as blood leaked from his mouth.

“That was from Riley. He says fuck you.” Sam let his hand fall again. “All yours, man.”

“You already know what this is for,” Loki said simply.

You chose not to look away as he shot the last round right into his forehead. Ransone’s head slumped over. Dead, glassy eyes stared beyond you.

None of you say anything. Just stare at the lifeless body in front of you.

“It’s really over, huh?” Sam’s voice is quiet, like he's having trouble processing what just happened.

You don’t answer. Only take a step towards him, and intertwine your fingers with his, continuing to stare at the corpse of your lifelong abuser.

____

The sun was beating down on you. You didn’t expect it to be evening when you stepped out of the warehouse.

“Where are we?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness that left you squinting.

“Middle of nowhere, I’d say.” Loki stares with disdain at the old building that looked worse for wear. “Would it kill the man to have a bit of taste?”

That reminded you. “Thanks for the house. And… sorry we showed up uninvited.”

“You didn’t do too much damage to it, I hope.”

You looked at him guiltily, mind flashing to the many bullet holes that decorated the back wall. “I’ll pay for the repairs.”

“Forget it. It’s of no use since everyone knows it exists now.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So, Y/N. I guess that concludes our deal?”

“I guess it does.” You nodded,

Sam wraps his arms around your shoulder and you lean into him with a sigh, allowing the comfort his touch brought to seep into you.

“How’d you guys make a deal anyway?” he inquired. You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily.

“Well, I was going to kill you at first,” Loki explained offhandedly, gesturing to you. “But then-”

He trailed off.

You remember, clear as day, when Loki confronted you in the early hours of the morning outside the park you went on runs. He had a gun pulled on you before you could fathom what was going on, before you could even realise who he was.

“But then?” Sam prodded.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“Saw something that I recognised,” he said dryly, eyeing you up and down. “We were both pulled into something we didn’t have a say in. Stuck, you could say. I just thought that it was a win-win situation if we worked together to kill that idiot back there.”

“So you agreed to spy on him,” Sam concluded. “You got revenge. What was your incentive?”

You look at Loki who just smiled at you. You return one half heartedly.

“I’d say freedom is a pretty big reward, wouldn’t you?” And it was. You couldn’t even begin to explain the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders. “I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly normal life. Might have to change your identity, move around a bit.”

“Everyone’s looking for us as wanted criminals,” Sam voiced everything you were forgetting about in the surge of emotions rushing through you.

“I got some connections,” Loki said dismissively. You peered at him from under Sam's arm. “I can have it traced back to a dead mobster in a warehouse, no problem. If they think it’s a gang war there’s no way they’ll try to get too involved. Consider it a gift from my father.”

Sam nodded, relaxing slightly now that most things were taken care of.

“That’s sorted then.” Loki examined the barren land that surrounded you. “You’re going to need a ride back to civilization, aren’t you?”

“If that’s possible.”

“I’ll have someone drop you off. You got any place to go? At least to stay low for a while.”

You didn’t have anyone. The only one you had was the man beside you. Nothing was settling in at the moment, and you realised that it would be a long road until it did. But you had a shot. A real shot at something even resembling recovery.

Sam and you looked at each other before he turned back to Loki and nodded.

“New Orleans.”

Next part

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

here’s a list of references/foreshadowing to the end all throughout the series!

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lesbobiwan · 3 years

Note

8 with Hunter 🥺 Please and thank you 😇

#8: "If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat." + Hunter

warnings: spanking as punishment, cunnilingus, the joys of trying to have a sex life while being a parent to a nosy child

(lets pretend that the galaxy is nice and the bad batch has both omega and crosshair on board. because im the writer and say fuck u cowboy hat man. also u guys r here for porn. not plot)

It wasn't like you were being serious. You only wanted to have a little fun.

Crosshair was just... conveniently there.

"You must have very steady hands," you remark, holding up Crosshair's hand to inspect them.

He smirks from around his toothpick, totally aware of what little game you're playing but always ready to fuck with his brother.

His fingers are more slender than Hunter's, nimble in a way that's beneficial for a man who lives his life on the trigger of a gun.

You've always valued thickness over length.

You continue to inspect Crosshair's fingers regardless.

He lets you ooh and ahh at his fingers and in turn gets a nice confidence boost while fucking with Hunter. A beneficial relationship.

The vein on Hunter's is getting exponentially larger with every second you spend touching Crosshair, but it isn't until Crosshair offers to give you a personal demonstration of how useful his fingers can be that Hunter stands up.

"Alright," Hunter's voice is short and clipped and sure to cause the best kind of pain for your backside. "Everybody out." He stands up from his bunk, drawing the attention of Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Omega.

"What?" Echo's voice is incredulous as he looks up from whatever he was tinkering with.

"Where are we going?" Omega asks, bouncing up to her feet.

You would smile at her overabundant enthusiasm if it weren't for the fact that you wanted to be fucked. Now.

Being a new parent really puts a damper on your sex life, which was already had to be a little sneaky to begin with when you shared a ship with four other people.

Hunter falters, mouth falling open but staying silent.

"Um, Hunter and I just need to talk about something real quick, sweetheart," you cover, excitement starting to build in your gut.

Tech scoffs and mumbles something under his breath.

Wrecker elbows him hard enough to shove Tech into the side of the bunk.

"Oh," Omega rolls onto the backs of her heels, "what about?"

Yup, you're tapped out for trying to come up with excuses to get a child out of the house so you can have sex.

You look at Hunter and gesture out towards Omega. Your turn.

"Uhm... adult stuff," Hunter stammers smartly.

"C'mon, kid," Wrecker plucks Omega up around the waist and hauls her under his arm like a ball, easily leading her out of the ship.

Tech and Echo are the next to rise, both of them hauling little scraps of machinery.

"You do know we're in the middle of nowhere," Tech reminds the two of you on your way out.

"Out, Tech."

Crosshair is the last to get up, groaning with the obvious tremendous effort it takes to stand up. "You owe me," he informs you, pointing one of his long fingers at you.

"Bye, Crosshair," you sing, reaching out to graze a finger along his wrist as he steps past you.

The tension in the ship is palpable.

"I can't help but feel like you're mad at me," you point out, eyes trailing over the way that Hunter's broad chest rises and falls with each of his deep inhales.

You see Hunter's nostrils flair — most likely breathing in your arousal. No sooner than the thought enters your mind, Hunter's eyes dilate. Definitely breathing in your arousal.

Still, he doesn't say anything.

"Me and Cross were just having some fun," you defend, cheeks growing red.

Suddenly, your grand idea doesn't seem that grand anymore.

"Do you want to do this here? Or in the bedroom?" Hunter steps closer into your personal space, so close you can smell the GAR issued soap on him mixed with something distinctly Hunter.

He's offering you a small bit of mercy, a small portion of control in your punishment.

Then you have to open your big mouth.

"We could always use Crosshair's bun — hey!"

Hunter's hand closes around your hair within one breath and the next.

"Hunter!" you cry out, hands scrambling at his wrist, "What the hell are you doing? Let me go!"

He sits on a bunk and — oh, fuck it's actually Crosshair's bunk, Hunter's actually doing this — sprawls you across his lap, one heavy hand on the back of your neck.

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your cunt. "Okay, this isn't funny," you say, while internally you beg for him to keep going, "let me up."

You don't try as hard as you should to get out of his grasp. You think Hunter knows.

"No." Hunter's grip on your neck tightens while his other hand drags both your pants and panties over your ass until they get stuck around your knees. "If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat."

Shit. You rub your thighs together over his lap, one of your hands clasping around his ankle.

"How many do you think you deserve after that little stunt?" Hunter asks, though you know it's purely rhetorical. "Ten? Fifteen?" His hand swipes across the meat of your asscheeks, warming up the skin before he strikes it — another small mercy.

You hold your breath. You're sure any number you give will only be doubled.

Hunter huffs. "Smart girl," he comments at your silence. "Count."

That's all the warning you get before —

Smack!

You yelp at the first sting across your skin. The sound registers first before the pain. You jerk across his lap, kicking your legs out as you squeal.

The hand on the back of your neck tightens imperceptibly. "Forgetting something?"

"One!" you cry out, voice thick.

He offers you no praise. Not yet, at least. He knows this is light work for you. It's towards the end of your punishment that he'll have to start talking you through it.

Smack!

Hunter's palm lands on your opposite cheek, harder this time.

"Two!" you yelp, hands clenching around Hunter's ankle.

True to form, it takes more than a few spanks in order for you to begin to reach your limit. Your eyes get teary and you do your best to dig your face into the pristine sheets of Crosshair's bunk.

Still, despite your pain, you feel your inner thighs get slick with your arousal.

"That's my girl," Hunter coos, fingers turning almost gentle as he scratches at the nape of your neck. "Just a couple more, can you do that for me?"

His hand soothes the skin of your burning ass, but you jerk against him in sensitivity.

It's too much. Too much, you just want to be good for him now.

"Color?" Hunter prods, pulling his hand away from your stinging cheeks.

"Green!" you sob into the sheets.

Good girls take their punishment.

Hunter gives you one appraising squeeze to the back of your neck, distinctly different from how he grabbed it to get you under control, and wastes no time in delivering two succinct and brutal spanks — one to each cheek.

You wail out each corresponding number and allow yourself to devolve into tears against the sheets.

Hunter smoothes contact-warm palms over your ass cheeks, soothing the ache as best he can without getting up to grab some bacta. "Good girl," he praises, "such a good girl for me," his hand around the back of your neck slides up and begins scratching at your scalp just the way you like.

You feel your heart rate slowing down, and no doubt Hunter can too, under his careful ministrations. The ache in your ass is no less prevalent, but you can bare it.

Besides, you think as you begin to roll your hips against his thighs, there's another feeling you can focus on, instead.

Hunter chuckles, sliding the hand on your ass to dip between your thighs and ghost a finger along your folds, "Well, I suppose you do deserve a reward, don't you?"

You turn to look at him over your shoulder with teary eyes. "Please?"

Hunter flicks his thumb across your clit, and you jolt across his lap for a different reason this time. "Hands and knees, baby," he murmurs, patting your hip once to signal for you to move.

Your limbs feel sluggish as you pull yourself off his lap. "On the floor?" you ask as you start to lower yourself onto the cold ground.

A hand around your wrist stops you. "No. Right here."

Your eyes flew open. On Crosshair's bunk? Spanking you in one thing, but fucking you?

Your cunt burns in excitement. Crosshair will never forgive you and you'll never forget this.

You settle yourself onto your hands and knees on the worn-in mattress, and you don't have to wait long at all before broad, thick fingers are spreading your thighs open and a wicked tongue is pressing against your cunt.

"Fuck!" you cry out, back bowing as Hunter dives in.

His tongue is downright sloppy as he does his best to bury his face in your dripping folds. The sounds he's making against you are obscene and make your facial cheeks go almost as red as your ass cheeks.

Hunter groans against your cunt like it's the best thing he's eaten, and you tremble with the vibrations.

Fuck, you're so close already, it's not even fair.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks.

"Hunter!" you sob, falling face first into the mattress. Your thighs tremble beneath his hands.

After being spanked within an inch of your life, your orgasm is tittering along a cliff's edge, ready to be knocked over by the barest gust of wind that comes along in the form of Hunter sliding two thick fingers into your cunt and curling.

You fall apart around him, lips falling open in a wordless scream as your walls clench around his fingers. His relentless lips that sucked at your clit switch to slow licks as you ride out your orgasm.

Hunter pulls his fingers from your sopping pussy with a wet squelch. Immediately, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

You watch behind heavy eyelids as Hunter licks up every last drop of your release — you also notice the large wet spot in the front of Hunter's pants.

The knowledge that he came in his pants like some fresh-faced cadet is almost enough to have you wanting a second round.

"C'mon, baby," Hunter rasps, "Let's get you cleaned up."

When the rest of the crew comes back, Crosshair takes one look his bunk, with a wet spot from your tears and the crumpled up sheets and immediately groans.

"You're both disgusting. You're washing my sheets," he complains, pulling them off his bed as best he can without touching too much of them.

"Why?" Omega asks, popping her head in out of nowhere. "What'd they do?"

Yeah, Hunter can deal with that one too, you think as you burrow your face deeper into his chest and close your eyes.

#100 follower celebration #hunter brat tame me challenge #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader

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itsmeevie01 · 3 years

Text

A Moment in Time

ok, so. a little disclaimer before we get into the good stuff. Cannon is in no way whatsoever being followed in this. honestly? im not even sure that i REMEBER cannon at this point. that said, cannon is non applicable. at. all.

moving on. YES, i WILL finish B!DBWM stuff eventually. but uh...not today. i just mentally cant. it. will. come. when. my. brain. can. handle. the. world. that. i. had. tailored. for. it.

ALSO this is going to be kinda sporatic, but the goal (not end all be all but) is to have this wrapped in a pretty little package and finished (at least on my end) by the end of february.

and now....onto the stuff you came here for!

---

Marinette was running late to school when she met him. She ran into the boy and stumbled back, flailing to catch herself before she fell. He looked down at her owlishly, before looking around. By the time he had returned his gaze to her, the teen had pulled herself back together. He smiled and nodded at her, before moving to go around. When Marinette had pulled herself together enough to call a short “sorry!”, He was already gone.

That was three weeks ago. Now, she was looking at a picture of their interaction, where it blared on the front page of the newspaper that Jagged had sent her. When Marinette had received the package, she had been confused. Jagged wasn’t supposed to send her another demo for a few weeks. They were still working on singles. When she had opened the box and found five different American publications with her on their front page, the teen designer had shrieked. With shaking hands, she picked up the top one and studied the headline.

HAS BRUCE WAYNE’S WARD FOUND PARISIAN LOVE?

The bold text was catching, sure, but Marinette was caught on WHO it was placing her with. Someone she had never met. The second one had a picture of her next to Jagged at an event, and a picture of the boy next to a blonde girl. The headline wasn’t much better than the first.

TIMELINE OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MDC AND THE HEIR TO WAYNE INERPRISES.

The teen snorted. She was starting to see the pattern. Putting the tabloid down the girl moved onto the next one. This one had, once again, a zoomed in picture of the five second interaction between her and a stranger. The title, however, was different than the first two.

ALL OF BRUCE WAYNE’S CHILDREN, AND THE INSIDE SCOOP ON HIS NEWEST DAUGHTER

She squinted, laughter bubbling up a little as she observed the piece of fiction. Whoever the Bruce Wayne was, Marinette hopped that he was able to combat this, because she had no intention of letting this fly.

Tim and Bruce were staring at the pile of papers in mild shock. When Jared had reached out to them in mild panic, they had been confused. His panic had been explained when the rocker had arrived carrying a stack of tabloid literature a foot thick. When he had thunk’d the stack down on Bruce’s desk, the businessman’s shock had been more than notable. When Tim had picked up the first few publications the initial look on his face was mirth, but it quickly morphed into shock, then panic. When he handed the top item to Bruce, the older man frowned. When the second pamphlet made its way to his hands, Bruce paused. His next move was to call the Wayne family lawyers. when he turned back to his old friend, all the faces in the room told the same grim tale of what was to come.

When Tim found out that it was Jared’s niece that he had accidentally run into in the brief moment in Paris, he wasn’t sure whether he should be more stressed by it, or if it was by pure luck. When Bruce’s friend went on to explain that the girl would probably already suing the reports and papers that had published the rumor, the young CEO was impressed. To have a lawyer on hand like that was…surprising, considering that she couldn’t be older than 18.

When he asked the rocker if he thought the girl would let anyone go after her, he laughed. Then, Jared Stone explained that the girl was known in Paris for squishing rumors with surprising efficiency.

That evening, Bruce invited his childhood friend home for dinner, and the star spent the evening telling stories of their capers as children, with Alfred grimacing in agreement with the stories. Partway through dinner, Jared’s phone went off. While the rest of the family tensed, glancing to Alfred, their guest frowned at his phone before rushing to answering. “Hey Little Rocker! How’s Pari- oh. So, Penny was more efficient then I thought she’d be. I- yes I figured that you may want to hear. Do- No! Marinette, what!” here, the man paused, his head cocked to the side, his eyes screwed up in thought. “No luv! Sue them within an inch of their lives! You more then have that right.” Here, the rocker paused before he laughed. “Tell that buzzing bee of yours that she’s a good friend. Alright, Miss Mari. I’ll ring you when I’m back on that side of the Atlantic.” He laughed again, “See you soon, Marinette.” The table stayed quiet, waiting for the man to give an indication on the status of the conversation. “Well, Brucie, expect to hear from my niece in the next few day, or at least, her team of lawyers.” the Wayne patriarch blinked before nodding in hidden surprise.

When the family was talking during patrol that evening, Tim grumbled. The 18-year-old was still taken aback that the press had even seen the momentary interaction almost a month ago. As his brothers listened in, many of them started to make fun of the teen. When Jason tuned in, he dropped in the middle of tale. At his confusion, Tim sighed and started over, again. While the family was laughing over his run-in with the press, the former Robin shook his head and silenced his family. He had a feeling he wouldn’t live this one down for a while.

Originally, Jason had found Tim’s predicament hilarious. Of course, the kid had to have the worst run-ins with the press. Then, he had picked up one of the many tabloids with the story. When he had seen the pictures, all mirth left the resurrected vigilante. The noirette that was looking up at him from the page? Yeah. He knew her. Better than anyone else, actually. With shaking hands, the young man paged to the story. What he found was…illuminating. So. She had been adopted. In France. In Paris. After forcing his lungs to draw breath, Jason pulled out his phone. He had arrangements to make.

The day after Jagged had sent her the gossip rags that were considered journalism, Marinette strode into school with a scowl so ingrained in in her features that anyone who didn’t know her would think the expression was permanent. When she stalked into the Lycée classroom, Chloé grinned at her from where she had settled in the front row. Marinette nodded at her friend as she slid in next to her. Lila came skipping in moments later, a cruel smile playing on her lips, before falling when she saw the bone quaking scowl resting on her nemesis’ face. “oh Marinette! Did something happen? Did…did you anger your parents? Did they find out about all those men?” the other girl huffed before turning to her. Lila froze as she was met with the iciest glare that she had seen in years.

“oh Lila. That’s so cute. It almost sounds like you still think that your little stories affect me at all. That’s…adorable.” The Italian girl shrunk under the younger girl’s stare. Suddenly, she understood why people had been warning her to leave the teen alone. this girl, she was brutal. “lucky for you, you’re not the one I’m after, this time. My lawyers have bigger fish to fry.” The newer addition to the classroom gulped, her throat suddenly very dry. It occurred to her that maybe Marinette had let her take control of the class. After all, if they turn that easily, why would she want them for friends. The smaller girl nodded as she watched the realization run over Lila’s face. Raising her eyebrows, the Eurasian girl motioned her classmate along, sending a cruel smile after her.

Chloé waited until the little liar was gone before giggling at her friend’s reaction to the girl who had become their daily annoyance. “I’m guessing you saw what’s been running in the American news? I thought it wouldn’t take long for you to respond. Are a plethora of lawsuits on the way?” Marinette giggled slightly as her severe demander giving way to the internal glee that was consuming the teen over the sheer chaos that was to come.

When Jason touched down in Paris, he tensed. The atmosphere in the city was less carefree than he remembered. There was an air that actually reminded him of Gotham. Tense. Waiting or the other shoe to drop. The expectation that your day was going to go wrong set from the moment one woke up. Pulling out his phone, the Gotamite looked up the address to the bakery that he had found when digging online. If today went the way he was hoping it would, the bakery would be his only stop for the day. Of course, he didn’t count on Gina.

When she called him over from where she was standing by her bike, Jason had to smile. The woman was part of the reason that he wasn’t still camping out in Gotham, waiting to kill a certain billionaire. Once the spry biker had latched onto his arm, the young man knew that his mission would have to wait just a bit. After all, he owed Gina almost everything he had.

#maribat #sibling!jasonette #platonic jasonette #timari #ml x dc #mlb #bamf marinette #chaotic marinette #oh shit i did a thing #theres more to come #my writing #a moment in time fic

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sewercentipede · 2 years

Text

well i thought i had a better support system with my family than my bf does with his but turns out my parents only know how to give support financially (like i can’t afford my health insurance, my state doesn’t offer Medicaid to anyone who has no children. so they support me by paying for healthcare) but also are abusive financially (using finances to control; I had to secretly close my bank account n open a new one years ago). along with verbal and physical abuse. (And controlling thru things like, refusing to teach me anything growing up. I had to google how to boil water. didn’t know how to drive until I was 19 I think). and the fallout of my mom finding out about my car accident made me unable to take it anymore. if they were poor I would have no support from them either, they only know how to be abusive people. every single interaction with them., if they can’t throw money at it, they go out of their way to be cruel instead and i don’t really get it. so im just. im done with them. im not used to being abused anymore I guess since I left home (my mom kicked me out, it turned out to be a bluff she just wanted to be abusive and cruel, but i left anyway and moved in with my bf). they gifted me my car after i graduated university when i was 20, my mom constantly threatens to take it back when she’s in a bad mood, so I told her to just keep it. take me off the car, car insurance, health insurance, phone plan, said don’t ever contact me again, made sure she knew I am blocking her number. my dad will probably try to contact me too to mediate because they only are aligned with one another when it is to abuse one of their kids. i can love him from afar. I only have one sister that would rlly do anything for me without it being conditional, but she is poor as I am, and is in a similar position as me, but worse probably because she’s far far more dependent on our parents.

this is essentially why i cant break up w my bf. he is the only person who doesn’t gaslight, threaten, yell, purposely say cruel things to me every single conversation. normally he is better to me than I could dream of, that’s why it bothers me so much the times he gets too drunk bc he becomes mean to me and im not used to it. most of the time with him is peaceful and we do well together. i don’t have the luxury of leaving him over things I’ve mentioned on tumblr about him that bother me. because I’m fucking poor. I would have the choice between him and my parents and they are actually, day in and day out, every interaction, abusive. I would have killed myself if I was living with them. I think about that a lot. I would definitely kill myself probably within a year. now , I don’t have that horrible “option” either because I’ve decided to end my relationship with my mom. so the “why don’t u leave him why don’t u break up with him” shit is like. I couldn’t leave him even if our relationship wasn’t harmonious and loving and compatible 90% of the time. I would have nowhere to go, no car, no money. most of our life together is peaceful and full of love and laughter and being a team. no yelling. actual caring, caring for one another. for the past 7 yrs. Polar opposite of living w my parents. they even blame my Crohn’s disease on me like I did it on purpose to myself. Everything is my fault. I’m not allowed to implicate them in blame for anything, in any way shape or form. I have never ever in my life heard my mom ask me how I am 😂 with them there are no conversations, only commands. hitting me, hitting me with objects, slapping me, pulling my hair, grabbing, pushing, damaging my stuff in the process. and screaming/yelling.... oh my god, the yelling and screaming is near constant, it never ends. Living w them is anxiety, fear ,stress ,sadness, anger, 24/7.

this got way longer than I intended . meant to just post really that it sucks realizing that I don’t have support, neither does he, we r alone together (he always says: we are a team), but i hope and think we will be ok just having each other. we will scrape by. my mom is dead to me and hopefully it stays that way and. sometimes wounds r not meant to heal. and u can’t salvage things with ppl who don’t know the meaning of respect. this lifetime is not meant for making every relationship I have perfect by being a perfect human. that would be insane. i just want to not be treated like shit anymore and my mom doesn’t know how else to treat people so. im ok with loving her from a distance. my parents can pretend I don’t exist and then it’s one less disappointment of a daughter for them. and I’m gonna marry my bf so I can have health insurance, it’s just financially and legally a huge benefit to get married and i need health insurance.

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souryogurt64 · 2 years

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About parents letting their kids do whatever.

I stayed home from school for more than 2/3 of my carrer as a "student". To the point where thay had me as a "visiting student" in their books.

My parents pretended like they didnt know and if only i would be a good person we could be a family. If only i could be a good person. Oops. Guess not. Lmao.

Im in college now. Taking one class a semester. Progress? Ehhhhhhhhh perhaps.

yeah my parents pressured me into attending a small liberal arts school in the middle of nowhere that required dorming by bribing me with a car but when all the registration dates were passed they were like “we actually tricked you, you dont get the car.” i was on an prestigious academic scholarship that covered 75% of my tuition so it wasnt like i could just leave. those kinds of scholarships are only available to incoming freshmen within a certain period.

knowing what i know now about living in major cities instead of being a naive 18 year old that had only lived in iowa i wouldve just dipped and said no to the car. i was looking at depaul and tbh i wish i had just gone because i wouldve been fine.

tons of people dont get an education or a car period and i know how privileged i am so i decided to just get through it but i really resent my parents for lying to me. they had me really convinced i was totally incompetent and incapable of using public transport or cooking or cleaning or anything and controlled all my banking information so i just kind of went along with it.

a few years later my little brother went to one of my top 3 colleges (that i was admitted to with a scholarship) and they encouraged him to go and gave him a car, which only made me hate them more because of the double standard.

i feel like going to liberal arts school absolutely shot up my career opportunities, i was very unhappy and didnt fit in with the culture there, and i missed out on a lot of fun things with my friends. i didnt make a single real friend at college because i didnt mesh with the culture.

it was definitely very insane, in recent years ive had majority guy IRL friends and all of them say that sort of thing only really happens to girls. anyway its all over now and in the past but i dont think ill forgive them for it ever, especially with losing so much more of my life to the pandemic

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captainmazzic · 3 years

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Introducing Imperial Major-General Wyrren Harker, and former-Separatist-now-mercenary Falynn J’Kurra. Let’s get a little backstory going under the cut :D

Wyrren Harker is largely an insufferable man. Intelligent and ruthless, he has an obsession with always having the upper hand and of always being the one in control. Spoiled as a child but held to very high standards, he is driven and dedicated to his goals but extremely selfish, arrogant, and just a little vain. He is quite willing to manipulate and intimidate anyone he can to climb out on top, and this has made him more than a little domineering and short-tempered when things don’t quite go the way he envisioned. He is not often deliberately cruel, but his sadistic streak comes out in retaliation if he thinks he has been slighted or wronged. He is extremely confident in his abilities, and that occasionally can make him a little reckless. It also makes him very nearly fearless, and he rarely worries about backlash or the negative consequences of his actions. He is not totally without fear however, and when put in a position where he has no power or is helpless, he very literally has no idea what to do.

Wyrren was raised an only child in a hyper-pro-Republic, career military household. Both parents were higher-ranking officers in the Republic army, and their son got the finest education and training their money and privilege could buy. He graduated academy at the top of his class, climbed the ranks quickly throughout the Clone Wars, and was already one of the youngest officers to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel by the time the Republic transitioned into the Galactic Empire. Like many in the upper echelons of the military, the change was seamless for him. He continued climbing the ranks, bolstered by affluence, staunch loyalty, and extensive connections. He was promoted to Major-General in 17 BBY, and was placed in charge of an IM-455 Imperial Modular Garrison, to be deployed on the foggy world of Nimat.

Nimat itself is sparsely populated, but its position made it of importance in securing the Imperial presence in the Outer Rim. Nimat is the primary access point of the Nimat Corridor in the Tharin Sector, along the Triellus Trade Route, one of the major trading hyperroutes through the Outer Rim.

Nimat is a dim planet with unusual topography. Much of the world is gently rolling lowlands, dotted with open forest, sluggish rivers, and shallow seas, all perpetually housed in a thick fog. There are occasional pieces of land, only a few dozen in number, that rise above the fog – all flat-topped plateaus ranging in size from a couple square kilometers to nearly 200 square kilometers. On these rare plateaus are the few spaceports and settlements that the planet has to offer. Every inch of these plateaus has been utilized for the tiny population, so the placement of the Imperial Garrison that our freshly-minted Major-General was to command was… tricky. It had to be placed nearly a hundred kilometers away from one of the more sizable spaceports, down among the lowlands and deep within the fog.

Wyrren wasn’t terribly happy with the arrangement, but the fragility of the already-overloaded plateaus and the restrictive topography of the planet prevented any other alternative aside from establishing an Orbital Garrison instead of a land-based one. But that would mean Wyrren would be forced to share commanding duties and power with an Admiral from the Imperial Navy, something he absolutely refused to do. So a land-based Modular Garrison it was, and that’s when all his troubles started…

Falynn J’Kurra is a former Separatist general and strategist from Annoo. He is private, aloof, and very patient, and rarely speaks unless necessary. His reserved and quiet nature often comes across as intimidation, as he has Resting Bitch Face™ and when he does speak his voice is gravelly and rough. But he is surprisingly even-keeled, and it takes a lot for him to actually get angry or raise his voice. Despite this, he does not abide anyone testing his limits and is uncompromising in his morals and tactics. Combined with his natural tendency to being a loner, this often results in a “my way or the highway” kind of mentality and it is difficult for him to take advice from others. This hard-line approach frequently caused him to be at odds with other Separatists while he was within their ranks, and he often went head-to-head with anyone who tried to force his hand – up to and including General Grievous and Count Dooku. Needless to say he was not often included in high-profile decisions or decisive battles. Which suited him just fine, as his focus is in the Outer Rim. His primary goal has always been the betterment and protection of his people, primarily against the Republic and the subsequent Empire. He was a primary associate of the revolutionary Ashaar Khorda on his homeworld. Falynn is an Annoo-dat, differentiated as a Ret or “Annoo-dat Blue” only by xenobiologists. (For reference, Adrestin is also an Annoo-dat, but by the time of the Galactic Empire the two species have long integrated their societies into one and do not differentiate amongst themselves). Being as they are a very long-lived species, Falynn actually remembers the conquering of his home planet of Gelefil by the Annoo-dat Prime and its subsequent renaming to Annoo. It doesn’t matter to him, however, as he is like most of his species and considers both Prime and Blue species of Annoo-dat to be one and the same.

After the Separatist Council was massacred on Mustafar and the Republic formed itself into the Empire, Falynn did not immediately seek out any of the fragmented Separatist holdout groups to join. Disillusioned and jaded, he turned to mercenary work instead, trusting more in his ability to get results on his own without any added people as a responsibility. During his new line of work, he would frequently encounter isolated Rebel cells (as the Alliance to Restore the Republic had not yet been formed), and would often take pay to strategize for them, or fight, or sabotage, or whatever else he happened to offer at the time. He would never fully align with the Rebel Alliance, however, as he has little desire to see the Republic restored back to its old position. He wants only for the Empire to fall, and firmly believes the galaxy would be better off without a centralized seat of power.

But he still helps Rebel cells if they have the credits to pay him, especially if it happens to be close to home. And it is one such Rebel cell on the planet of Nimat that hires him to sabotage a newly-established Imperial Garrison…

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I FINALLY MANAGED TO POST lol. So here's that Imperial OC I mentioned I wanted to make based on Wesker from Resident Evil a few days ago. Plus the hardass merc. I'm happy. :D

#star wars ocs #imperial oc #rebel oc #sarc scribbles #star wars fanart

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angelspenance · 3 years

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yuno being a comphet lesbian is my new favorite headcanon, that I 100% consider as canon, but im also a sucker for character analysis/essays for these types of things, so do you have any share to the class 👀👀

ALRIGHT!!! For starters

Canon dialogue points to her feelings for Yuki being completely fabricated by her simply to cope with what her life has truly become thanks to her abusive parents quite literally putting her in a cage and not feeding her, her killing her parents on borderline accident thanks to putting them in the cage they put her in, and her immediately being thrust into a killing game in a world where god is dying. She clings onto Yuki and places all of her cards into not so much the boy himself as what she’s made him represent within her mind: hopes of a better future. She quite literally states that before he offhandedly joked that maybe they’d get married someday she had no future, which has some suicidal implications given all that she’s been through. The fact that she still talks to her deceased parents and makes note of when she comes home later than the curfew they set, along with really all she aspired for in life before Yuki stumbled into it was to please her parents who did nothing but despise her for things she couldn’t control, has some Implications in itself. Along with the fact that sees her only value in life now as trying to be the ideal woman for Yuki and ensure that he doesn’t die and thus to make sure her hope doesn’t die infers what the ideals her parents drilled into her head were. On top of this, at the end of the series Yuno is perfectly content to let Yuki die if he interferes with her plans of starting the game again thanks to the fact that he found out that Yuno had already won and was planning on repeating the game as many times as it takes to completely keep Yuki in the dark regarding her true nature and for him to be the one to become god. Since Yuno has seen Yuki, as well as everyone else, die before, the values of their lives are muddled with the fact that if she wins she can just see all of them again in the next world. Yuno may not realize it but she genuinely just kinda uses Yuki as a coping mechanism, per se as long as Yuki is “safe” and within her grasp she’s what she perceives to be “happy.” It’s what she thinks she Should Be, so she believes she Is. On top of all of this, after she does accomplish what she thought was her only wish after so long, she literally cries and then tries to kill Yuki. Yuno placed all bets on her happiness being stored in Yuki, who has become a personified coping mechanism to her, to the point where she doesn’t even really consider the true nature of her “feelings” for him. He’s her future personified, and that’s that. Perhaps a real twist would be the reason she always sees women as “competition” for Yuki’s affections isn’t so much because of the actual likelihood of them “stealing” Yuki so much as the fact that she personally finds them attractive and desperately grasps at another title to place upon them to ignore any other sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach. Basically canon itself constantly points towards Yuno being a lesbian suffering major comphet to cope with the Everything about her life. Like her codependency with Yuki is basically her objectifying and nearly dehumanizing him, using him as nothing more than an empty vessel that represents any hope of a happy ending for her, and Yuki literally not knowing what else to do given how Yuno manipulates him into becoming even more paranoid and completely relying on her for protection given her proficiency in murder. Yuki and Yuno’s dynamic is SOMETHING to be certain but only when you keep in mind Yuno is a lesbian suffering major comphet and Yuki is bisexual, literally had no friends before Yuno wedged her way into his life, and in love with Aru without even realizing it (which canon itself points to as well ironically enough)

#GOD THANK U I LOVE TALKING ABT YUNO SUFFERING COMPHET BC CANON ITSELF INADVERTENTLY POINTS TO IT REPEATEDLY <3 #ask to tag #clownjail #asks

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thisdreamplace · 3 years

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ashamed to say the 3D reflects our true inner reality, yes? my ENTIRE family has turned against me, after some atrocious conflicts in which they all ganged up on me nd judged me, name-calling, very hurtful things too, provoked me. i been dealing with some serious mental uh 'issues' on my own nd when this happend i was already on the verge of a breakdown nd the good news is while the conflict happened i kept telling myself theyre only reflecting me u can get thru it etc. Later i looked at the hard facts nd realised some of the hurtful things they said were my deep secret feelings abt myself. BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people? confronting one person vs whole family, why?! i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?

Part 2 is simply its been a week and theyve still been cold towards me as if I yelled AT THEM ABT THEIR PAINFUL 'tRuThS' in front of EVERYONE LMAOOO. At first if i was around we'd have dinner together while they'd all talk to each other like best friends aka sickeningly overly friendly while completely IGNORING me while i sat there. i could tolerate it. I WAS PISSED AT THEM TOO Now its too painful. They're having dinner without telling me, yesterday didnt leave enough food for me knowing i hadnt eaten, serve tea/snacks without my portion. i honestly feel so unspeakably trigered nd sad. worst is these things r reminding me of deep school memories when id feel excluded like this by other kids at parties or class activities nd its like im back there. anyway im glad i controled myself a bit nd didnt counter with horrid things abt them to THEM yet they think they can say the same to me. im so hurt rn i cant even tell u lol i was okay the whole week but now its too much,, ive been crying the whole day

thing is, ik this seems like 'im a victim oh noooo they ganged up on meee'. Nope its more like how do i change myself to change them?! u could say why not talk to them how they made u feel, except whenever ive defended myself in the past regarding hurtful things they/anyone in family did, the siblings/parents would say irritating things like: "oh so YOU'RE the one hurt? Oh thats right, its because YOU'RE right! yes, yes, you're always right. Forgive me for saying anything against the perfect person u are." Or one of them says: "You?! I hurt YOU? What about me? You don't care about me! So you think what ur doing is okay?" or "no, who do YOU think u are to tell ME what to do?" it just goes in circles like this! i dont deserve to hurt myself or do smth to myself even if they dont give a damn, even if years of silent suffering of the 'mEntAL pRoBlEms' (which my lovely parents have already told me is my fault years ago, hence why I NEVER show it to them, unless im crying too much then lol they just mock me, but idc abt THAT bcoz now ik i hav a right to let out my emotions)). i mean this is worse rjan usual. its kinda insane nd when guests come they start talking to me as if nothing's wrong then when they leave, they ignore me!

this whole twisted dynamics, feelijf left out nd helpless is ig some crazy assumptin from childhood of being alone nd unable to defend myself. plus when they argye with anyone, they become overly self-righteous nd over the years its clear they can only scream, blame the scapegoat and never talk abt serious matter like normal ppl. And yes, in the past when i bring this up, they like to reply with stuff like: "no YOU'RE the one who doesnt talk to US bla bla" like, when i do u just shut me down? have belittled my mental 'issues', mocked me when im at my worst, stabbed me with cruel silent treatments nd thinking its alright "bcoz of self-righteousness blegh". Or maybe i think its okay for them to punish me? or whatev? Like law says u get what u r. if these ~~~ keep doing this to me, im doubly ashamed to say this means im the one at fault?! i let this monster assunptin grow nd now idk what to do. the worst thing imo is how i failed to tell them,even if they ignored me in the past, how i feel when anything like this or a conflict happens nd none of them stand up for me, or at least are neutral to me. bcoz now if i do, they say nope, u dont care what we do, YOUR the shameless one :! so yeah they hav the advantage of 'numbwrs' while im too afraid to stand up for myself lol. btw they never apologize nd i suspect they expect ME to apologize to TYEM bcoz everything's already ruined bcoz of 'me'..... i give up on them, i really do, but my heart hurts. Either i harden my heart, nd save up to move out, OR i try to change my self or whatev assumptins i have. But how do i do that? i try afirming: "my familys so nice to me, im respected by them" but it feels so fake tears literally enter my eyes lol

firstly i want to say, thank you for coming here to vent and being open about your feelings. it’s so important sometimes to just let it all out, without holding back. so that way you can move forward more bravely, to create the life you truly want to experience. that being said, i am going to be completely honest with you here in hopes that perhaps it may inspire you and you will be ready to do what is needed for the life you truly want to experience.

“BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people?” -> “i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?” here is your question, and here is your answer. i think that being completely honest when venting your feelings can actually be so helpful, because if you read back what you have said, you will be able to clearly find the patterns that are creating your personal hell. FEELING IS THE SECRET. ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO FACT. the true way you feel, becomes your experience. Feelings/assumptions/beliefs come first, and the experiences come second to confirm them. That’s all that’s happening here.

i am glad that you were able to keep your reactions to a minimum! that's wonderful and as many of us know, it can sometimes be hard to do in such hurtful circumstances. but you managed to do it, this shows just a small glimpse of the power you truly hold within. although emotionally you may feel out of control, there is still the choice to choose better for yourself which you demonstrated through your reaction to them. good for you!

the truth is, you acknowledge the victim mindset to seem like you’re not engulfed in it, but no, you’re still very clearly engulfed in it. as i have said before, you can’t be a VICTOR and feel bad about it. feeling bad about taking responsibility, about everyone is you pushed out, about any of these types of concepts automatically shows a victim mindset. talking to them won’t do anything, because there are no second causes. you could talk to them nicely, you could be the nicest person in the world. but you can’t pretend your way out of your inner world. your inner world is the one and only cause of your experiences. until you change the story you tell yourself, they will stay the same. this is a hard pill to swallow sometimes. and it can feel heavily, because it’s ultimately only you’re choice. they can’t change until you do. the heaviness of the situation may make it seem impossible to turn around, but that’s just an illusion. your emotional attachment to the situation makes it seem so real and hard to change, but no. that’s just an illusion too. however, it’s ultimately your choice. Do you want to take responsibility for your life, or do you want to keep being tossed around like your lost at sea, victim to the merciless angry waves? Because we always have a choice. No one chooses your inner world, you do. No one can go into your mind and decide things for you, that’s only your job.

you can harden your heart, but who would be the one who suffers more? It won’t be your family, i can assure you. it’ll only be you. by doing that, you keep that old story alive and therefore you keep experiencing it. you keep those stories alive that are desperately showing themselves to you, saying “LET US GO.” but you remain identified with those painful stories, so you grip onto them tight. you keep on thinking of possible reasons for their behavior, but you could just read your entire ask back to yourself and you’ll see every reason. your reactions, your beliefs about them, your emotional pain. its your refusal to let those things go, and focus on what you truly want that keeps you in this state and keeps them in this state. sure it’s painful to face the responsibility at first, but it’s not a blame game. thinking its about blame is just a misunderstanding of the teachings. it’s not about they’re so perfect and you’re so not, so you have to change your ways. it’s about this is how life works here. this is about... you can ONLY ever experience self. whatever is going on within, will be reflected in your outer world. it’s about how they can’t change, UNTIL YOU DO. so instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you have to decide to give yourself the gift of a wonderful life because you have that power too. you stop deciding they can be in control of your experience, and you decide your experience yourself.

to change your assumptions, stop trying to affirm over them and actually face what’s keeping you from believing in your desires. yeah, it’s going to be painful and uncomfortable. but you need to face the pain that you’re running away from, so that it can finally be released. you have to realize, it only stayed true because you believed it to be true. and if you are to live a life free from that story, and experience a more desirable story, then you must let the pain go. give yourself love and grace as you work through it, and know that there is a more beautiful side of life that awaits for you to accept it in.

No One To Change But Self

There is Nothing to Forgive

How to Sit with Your Triggers

give yourself the time you need, it's not race. the love that you wish to experience exists, allow it in. 💖

#eiypo

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