you know how ice king, when confronted with evidence of simon petrikovs existence, tends to either be unable to process that identity or makes casually dismissive and rude comments (being ashamed of his glasses, calling himself a "scrawny armed loser", etc)
you know how winter king is basically a sane ice king
you know how winter king makes casual comments that feel so specifically, pointedly tailored to make simon feel inferior or be dismissive of his feelings
yeah. thinking about that.
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absolutely devastated by the implications of Gansey’s vision of finding Glendower in the Dreaming Tree being his worst nightmare…. it was only ever about the searching. he couldn’t bear to find him. and when he does actually find him and he’s dead, not sleeping… … i’m simply…. …
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I cannot...believe what I just did. I rolled my eyes guys...I rolled my eyes at regulus black self loathing tag. It came out of nowhere (the eye roll) like rude.
I actually paused after the eye roll though and was like...damn
It was really funny actually but also that's a whole hatecrime on his personality fr. Cause he's 60% self loathing 40% I'm better than all of you.
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But really, it is an illusion that others can’t see your worth. Someone who shows you disrespect probably does see who you are. But how you are triggers something in them; a cell memory; something in their shadow; something they cannot love and accept in themselves. There is an internalised voice in them that judges you. But that voice is a voice from their past. Someone who was hurt. You or your…
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the arsenal
you don’t need a razor
when his words
cut through the skin
with more ease than that sharp cool metal
you don’t need a cord to tie
when you’re shaping reality
and it slowly compresses the breath in your throat
needed to live
you don’t need the sleek metal muzzle
to blow your mind with
thoughts of what could have been,
what should have been.
you don’t need a shock,
it won’t bring back what power
has been taken away from you.
you don’t need any pills to
stop your heart from beating
when he weaponizes the same words
you recite in the mirror
to kill your soul.
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Incels and femcels are soooo funny to me like you try to interact or talk to one and you realize theyre so far detached from reality that they cant even hold a simple conversation. "Waaaa my life sucks, I hate everyone" <- literally completely shuts up and refuses to interact with someone who just says hi or whatever. Like girl, what are you, 6? Grow up lmao.
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No matter the circumstances, no matter what life you lead from this point onward, or the type of creature you try to be-- you will always be the spirit of a blade meant for nothing but slaughter. Nothing but torture. Nothing but sorrow. Nothing but rage. Do you think you can overcome your fate?
I know.
The words cut deep, the truth even deeper. Chien-Pao's voice is but a mere hiss, almost a whisper with how quiet it was.
What had it been thinking?
To think that anyone could ever love it.
To think that it might be desirable as something other but a weapon.
To think that someone might want it around them for who it is.
Chien-Pao averts it's gaze, almost ashamed.
How silly of it.
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#HatingYourself for #selfloathing is peak self-torutuee. :)))) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj5HqtNS5PF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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I spent so much time, years, trying to rectify my relationship with my divorced parents. My hyper-controlling Mom. My distant Dad who made it seem so easy to become part of a new family but made it feel so hard for me to remain a part of his. Both of them insisting that if i just existed inside the mold of what was comfortable to them for their child to be, it would click, we’d get along, the arguments and blame would go away. I’d feel, finally, like I belonged with them. Like I could be a happy part of it.
I wasted my time. I thought it was good enough to finally show myself. I came out as trans. It was bad. But they said they supported me. I waited five years, at their continued insistence that I would regret my decision, that I just needed more therapy, that I was wrong about myself. So I waited. At 28 I started medical transition. I talked about changing my name, my pronouns. Things they’d known about, said they’d support me on for five years, FIVE YEARS, one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days. After less than two months in transition, with no real changes still yet to speak of physically, and only minor changes in mood, my support has all but vanished. It’s “too much trouble”, I’m “being too divisive”, I’m “pushing away my family”, I’m “being too rash”. Five years, “we’ll support you”, and I’m being too rash.
I don’t know. Maybe all this time I tricked myself into thinking that other peoples’ opinions affected who I am somehow. Maybe that’s the afterglow of growing up the way I did. The radiation of a nuclear childhood decaying my adult life, pulling out the hair and fingernails, withering my flesh.
I’m going to be alone. And there’s a bittersweet comfort in that. Being alone with myself, my true self, is far better company than pretending to be someone else around people who only accept me with a mask on.
It hurts. I know it always will.
I’m okay with that, I think. I don’t have a choice. This is that moment of breaking.
All I did was play with a new name.
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I'm crying my eyes out rn, I do cosplay, and I had to stop for like 2 years because I didn't have a phone, was really shit, and I recently got this one and I put on one of my old cosplays so I could post some videos on tiktok, and I go to put the costume on and it dosent fit, island I gave to cut the sides of the dress for it to go on me, but somehow I was able to not freak out over that, amazing job me, but then when I was filming all I could think about was how ugly and fat I look and every 5 minutes I just start balling my eyes out and post the videos, but it's fine, it's just afew tears, and while my videos are posting I'm looking threw sounds so I can continue filming and along with those sounds are loads of really skinny really pretty other people and now I'm crying my eyes out and throwing up violently in the bathroom
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“When does chasing after love turn into self loathing? Can a soul be loved quite sincerely and just as sincerely be lost?
I want to believe that punishment is redemptive, but if whipping were any good at reforming a man, would I not be a saint by now?”
- Thomas senlin, the arm of the sphinx by Josiah Bancroft, pg 362
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