#it legitimately looks like ive put it into a saw trap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

funny-house · 3 years

Note

huhu u got me to watch opal the other day since u keep talking abt it and im glad bc i Really Enjoyed It but !! anyways , i saw u mention mirror man doing makeup for someone and i keep thinking about it so Thoughts Incoming sorry in advance lmao. i think he would like to do claires makeup (and teach her abt it in general) when she gets a bit older,, both bc it seems like a legitimate hobby he would enjoy (i imagine if he werent Like That he probably could have been a makeup artist or something similar!) and bc he would like to ‘prettify’ her a bit.

and ah well,,, a lot of parents Like Him sometimes try 2 make their child a carbon copy of themselves or of an image they enjoy so if he grew to like claire more or already does like her enough for that (or just, wants things to revolve around him More) hed try to nudge things in that direction. and in his own way i think He might think hes doing something good, he knows when he was her age he would have killed to have a parent so eager to help him learn makeup and stuff but. claire isnt him. she probably isnt even interested in it at all but shes kinda desperate for Nice Moments and also doesnt wanna risk making him angry so she goes along with it. she always has her head in the clouds so all the things hes saying is too much at once but shes trying to comprehend it,,,,,

nd he keeps giggling at her for how awkwardly she moves her arm when putting on foundation and blush nd gets kind of annoyed with her for repeatedly flinching when he tries to help her with mascara nd teases her a bit for trying to taste the lip gloss (and keeps pointing out a flaw or two on her face “well, youve always had a sort of weird shaped face but youve always had the cutest little smile, its like Mine :)”) but they do it !! together !!! and nothing (that) bad happened !!!!!! so claire is happy,,,,,,,,,,, until that inevitably opens the gates of him trying to pick out what she wears for her and “””suggesting””” hairstyles for her and getting manipulative and even flatout Angry when she doesnt do what he wants her to (bc even when things Seem like theyre about claire they Are Not, its what He wants for her , in the end its still all about him) but, ive rambled enough to you already <:o) sorry for talking so much i just wanted to chat a bit abt opal with you !!!! hope ur doing well hehe . and im sorry this is rambly nd probably incomprehensible i just did a lot of work hkehri

ohhhhhhhh !!! FIRST I am super glad that all my constant rambling about this man has allowed you to go watch Jack Stauber’s awesome little short, it’s really good and deserves all the support !!!

also i totally appreciate you wanting to share your thoughts with me ;u;

AND I TOTALLY AGREE the whole idea of him projecting himself onto her, trying to take over her, I think that is so fitting for the short itself tbh, because it’s a reflection ( mirrors, hehe ) of what the mother wants from Claire as well. The thing that terrified Claire near the end is the mother reaching to hold onto her, specifically after the mom said that she was going to become just like her. The idea of her becoming her parents? it terrifies her, clearly!!

And Mirror Man, he is what they call a “archetypal narcissistic abuser”, in my eyes at least, and it would be really really common to see someone like that not only be so controlling and self absorbed that they treat their child like a decoration to themselves, but also use that child, especially as they get old enough to have opinions on the situation, to turn them against their partner-- such as.... the mom

so picture this

Claire is like 10-12, and she’s bright and she’s got a good heart but she’s WELL and truly Affected by the years of being brought up in that ridiculously toxic hell hole-- I mean house no idea if the grandpa would live that long uhhh in his state, but even if he does, he’s still very sick, disabled, and senile and he isn’t going to be much help. and Claire, she’s starting to have Opinions,, on how things are running around here,, but in swoops Mirror Dad

He’s like........ it’s your mother’s fault. Oh, absolutely, have you seen her? I mean look at her, she’s disgusting. she’s a drug addict, she’s a drunk, she’s ugly, she’s the reason you feel like this-- and maybe some of that is understandable, i mean she’s a real mess of a mom, no mistake, but hey

Nobody’s going to tell Claire who made her that way! Nobody’s going to tell her Mirror Dad was the one who trapped her in an unloving, possibly violent relationship, with a kid, and ripped apart every inch of her self worth !!!

Nope. she just sees the aftermath. So mirror dad...... turns claire on her. And she starts to side with him on things and she starts to even kinda talk like him maybe even....... learns how to do that dark and scary insecurity voice of his and one day She walks by the.... Reflection Chamber and Mirror Man is there in that way He Always Is in that seat he always sits in, and he says something very very odd to her! he raises a finger and curls it in and says come sit on my lap you haven’t gotten too big to sit on my lap have you?? come here!! and i mean Claire is still very very uncomfortable even being near him, and this feels like a trap, but i mean she can’t just say no, and there’s a part of her that’s kinda hoping... maybe he really is trying to be nice. and so she does and she sits with her but you’ll notice he is never looking directly at her. Even as she’s approaching literally right in his line of sight, he stares straight into her reflection, never her face. It’s like she’s not even real unless she’s in those mirrors.

And he tells her he wants to do her makeup! yay! how fun! and he tells her to close her eyes and pout her lips and try not to flinch when the sculpting starts or he’ll use his deep voice-- and how he’s going to finally FIX her. Goody!! then maybe the constant barrage of insults and negs and criticisms will stop!! (p.s. they wouldn’t have )

And so she opens her eyes..... and the face of her abuser is looking right back. It’s her face. Or it used to be-- now it’s literally his and it’s hideous-- it does not AT ALL belong on that body, and the only thing left of her is her big shiny eyes

and she S C R E A M S that way Claire does,,,

but this time, loud enough to crack the mirrors, and stun the dad just long enough for him not to catch her in his hands when she leaps off his lap and books it for the attic the attic, the view of the billboard with the same worn out, not updated ad for Opal’s in the window. She locks the door, it doesn’t take long for mirror man to come banging on it, telling her she’s ungrateful, she doesn’t deserve what little she has, taking back every nice thing he ever said, etc,,,

and Opal just starts clawing off the makeup/clay/whatever from her face in the mirror’s glass reflection, putting her hair back into the pigtails her father said made her look stupid

but she isn’t Opal, she’s changed, she’s aged, but Opal-- she’s always the same!! happy!! cared for!! and what is she supposed to be under the makeup? huh? Who is she besides the abuse she’s put through, that billboard and what it sells to her? she doesn’t know! nobody does nobody ever bothered to get to know what it even means to be Claire.

#HAHA. THINGS GOT OUT OF HAND WOOPS--#tw for..... just... the most depressing bs lmao #mail time !!#Claire #Opal #Mirror Man #Jack Stauber #shrigis

48 notes · View notes

sablelab · 4 years

Text

Covert Operations - Chapter 111

SYNOPSIS: As Sun Yee Lok waits for his daughter’s arrival, he contemplates the outcomes of his interviews with Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu. Meanwhile Murtagh is distressed at Claire’s condition but she is only worried about Jamie.

Chapter 110 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

THANK YOU all for reading my story and I hope that it provides some enjoyment during this time. Stay safe everyone.

CHAPTER 111

Sun Yee Lok sat back in his chair waiting for his daughter Karen to come and speak to him. As he waited for her arrival, he contemplated the outcomes of his interviews with Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu. Their responses had been most enlightening. The triad leader was certainly not disappointed with the information about what had happened at the monastery when he’d interviewed the two men earlier this morning. His daughter Karen was yet to have her conference and her meeting had been scheduled for late this afternoon. Looking at the clock on the wall he noted that she wasn’t due for another hour. Sun Yee Lok needed some fresh air after spending the last couple of hours in interviews with the two men. The triad leader got to his feet and walked to the open French doors that lead onto the large tiled terrace. Negotiating the steps that led from his office he walked out onto the terrace and felt the warmth of the late afternoon sun on his face. With much on his mind to think about, he exhaled a sigh, then stared out at the dense woodlands that lay beyond the property line. Both men had praised Karen’s part in events at the monastery stating that his only daughter had performed with level headedness and composure even in the face of adversity. She’d taken risks and taken control of the situation at the monastery. Her leadership capabilities had been sorely tested but Karen had come through with flying colours. It was she who had been the instigator to trapping Jamie and Claire when they tried to escape, although it was Jonathon who had been the one responsible for interrogating, torturing and killing the prisoners. As a consequence of her leadership, Karen had been responsible for turning the triad’s fortune around. The Rising Dragons' mantra had finally been fulfilled and because of her, the triad had sought its retribution at long last. Their enemy had been eliminated, the unsolved mysteries with their hierarchy had been resolved and now the Rising Dragons would once again reform and regroup better than ever before. They could only go from strength to strength. Wang had confirmed that his daughter had the situation at the monastery well in hand, was steadfast and unflinching in her decisions and had shown little emotion in the face of her own grief when Andy Ma was killed. Making his way back to his office Sun Yee Lok poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter then relaxed back into the comfort of his chair. His thoughts once again turned to the time Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu had spent with him one on one. He couldn’t help but mull over in his mind what had transpired with the two men at the monastery with Karen. Their responses had been most informative and he was extremely satisfied with the triad members’ reports. They had delivered excellent news. More than that though, he was pleased ... very pleased with the results they’d achieved for the good of the Rising Dragons. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Jonathon Randall had carried out his leader’s orders with diligence and achieved the result that the triad needed and wanted. Sun Yee Lok had nothing but praise for the way he had handled the torture of the two captives, James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp. Vengeance really was sweet but nothing was as sweet as the death of the two people who had caused his triad such grief. By all reports the two adversaries had put up an impressive fight and were defiant to the very end. The qualities Fraser and Claire Beauchamp had exhibited had shown they truly were worthy opponents. Nevertheless, the two were doomed from the beginning. No one was capable of bettering the might of the Rising Dragons … many had tried but failed in the past and had only met their demise at the hand of the triad’s enforcer Tony Wong. If this had been a test of Jonathon’s suitability for advancement, he would have passed with flying colours. At long last Sun Yee Lok knew he may have found a good man in Jonathon Randall to fill the place of his deceased extortionist. On a personal level, Jonathon had also managed to have retribution for the atrocities at his nightclub. Although the blame for the firebombing had been laid at the feet of the Black Panthers and Red Lanterns’ triads that had managed to infiltrate his birthday festivities that night, many of the actual fatalities had been at the hands of Claire Beauchamp and her consort. Having the two people responsible for the loss of life of his men and triad members eliminated had seen his honour avenged. Furthermore, Jonathon’s cover as a legitimate businessman in Hong Kong was still intact which bode well for the plans Sun Yee Lok had in mind for him. Jonathon Randall had spoken to his leader of his planned vacation time in Macau. This could prove beneficial. Once he was rested the triad leader saw a perfect opening for Jonathon in his master plans for the triad. Although he wanted to rebuild his nightclub in Hong Kong, with worthwhile incentives, Sun Yee Lok was sure that Jonathon could be persuaded to expand his business ventures elsewhere … preferably where the triad leader saw the greater benefits to the Rising Dragons. Macau would prove to be more lucrative and could be a far better proposition than reconstruction on the mainland especially if his plans for Karen were taken into consideration. Jonathon could be instrumental in what he had in mind. Not only that, but as an extra inducement, his reward for a job well done would be an honourable position within the triad befitting his expertise and worth. Having sown the seed of interest, Sun Yee Lok had achieved the result he’d wanted by putting this proposition to him. On the other hand, Jonathon had been most enthusiastic to hear what his leader had in mind. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Sun Yee Lok’s interview with Wang Yu had been on a completely different level. The triad leader was more interested in hearing his comments about his daughter Karen. As a result of what he’d said, the triad leader had taken pride in what Wang had said about her. Like Jonathon Randall, he had also been most insightful about his observations of Karen’s performance at the monastery. He’d followed his orders explicitly and although his brief had been to watch over and protect Karen, this apparently had not been necessary. She had proven to be more than capable of looking after herself. He’d also sought Wang’s opinion in matters that had perplexed him about what had taken place at the monastery. Sun Yee Lok had sought the counsel of his wise perception and his faith in his old friend was rewarded. Wang Yu had been able to shed some light on the question that had puzzled his leader for some considerable time. How had these two people … James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp … been able to inflict so much grief on the Rising Dragons and its members? Unexplained and suspicious deaths had resulted in turmoil within its organisation and hostilities with other triad groups had impacted on the authority and influence of the triad. However, knowing where the two protagonists had come from explained a lot. The triad leader was now wiser. Section One and its two operatives had been responsible for nearly bringing the Rising Dragons to its knees, but since their elimination this threat had come to an end. Finally, the triad could regroup and return to the stability they had enjoyed before. The triad had taken revenge and triumphed over its adversaries. It was stronger and wiser because of it; hence Sun Yee Lok saw no problems in payback from Section One in the future. It would take some time for Section to regroup with people of the same calibre as Jamie and Claire … and even if it did, then he was confident that the triad would be more resilient to withstand any assault. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Thus, with matters brought to closure with the two triad men, Sun Yee Lok’s mind became consumed with thoughts of his daughter Ka-lin. It was a heavy weight that the triad leader intended to lay on her shoulders, but given what he had learnt about her efforts at the monastery thus far from the two men, he was definitely swayed that his decision was the right one. Wang Yu’s and Jonathon’s words of praise about Karen’s capabilities under pressure were most pleasing. Their summations only further cemented in his thoughts that Karen would be pivotal to what he had in mind. As the Rising Dragon’s leader, but also as her father, he had specific plans for her future and that of the triad. Karen undeniably possessed the intellect required to continue his life's work and the triad’s expansion clearly lay in her capable hands. This was her heritage … the future for which she was destined. Karen was young, but he couldn't deny that she showed strength of character … perhaps too much at times. However, although Sun Yee Lok had all but made up his mind, he would still need to asses Karen’s merits for his plans when he spoke to her. Looking at the clock in the room, he realised that it was nearing the time for his interview with her and he was fully prepared for what he would say to Karen.

A change was definitely coming for the Rising Dragons.

Meanwhile back at Medical …

Returning to stand at Claire’s bedside, Murtagh swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight of his Sugar. Evidence of Claire’s torture was clearly prominent as she lay beneath the glare of the stark fluorescent lights that Bóinne had switched on. His eyes travelled over her then up to the IV-line shooting fluid into her body to aid her recovery. Everything that could have been done had been done. The two friends stood in silence for a few moments. Fergus was lost for things to say and just stood by Claire’s bedside in quiet support. He cast a quick glance over to Murtagh for inspiration, but he merely shrugged his shoulders also not knowing what to do. In mutual agreement they came to the same conclusion … sometimes silence was the best option. Claire was in good care, nevertheless his voice still caught when he finally spoke to his buddy. Sounding like a concerned father he asked, “Any change?” Fergus looked at him; he could see the worry in Murtagh’s face. “No … She’s been asleep ever since I came in. I didn’t have the heart to wake her.” Leaning down Murtagh smoothed the hair back from Claire's forehead and softly whispered her name. “Claire.” He took hold of her hand and gently cradled it within his old wizened one. His thumb absentmindedly glided back and forth over her skin; his eyes were focused on her alone. She didn’t respond, so he said her name once more.

“Claire?” Suddenly she stirred and slowly opened her unwilling eyes. Awakening from her slumber she felt woozy from the effects of the drugs she’d been given. A little confused, her surroundings blurred before her eyes. Not realising just where she was, she tilted her head back on the pillow. Then slowly looking up, she found a face gazing down at her with fatherly concern. When Claire saw who was standing next to her bed, she focused her eyes on her friend.

“Hey!” Her breathy response was followed by a tentative smile. Murtagh smiled in return, the corners of his eyes creasing in pleasure at seeing her awake. “It's alright, Sugar. Try not to move.” Fergus spoke to her as well. “It's nice to have you back. How are you feeling?” Claire moved restlessly on the bed. She turned her head in the direction of his voice, looked at Fergus then turned her head away again. Suddenly a bolt of pain shot through her body. She sucked her breath in with an audible hiss and shut her eyes tightly. An unexpected rush of thoughts of what had happened to her and Jamie at the monastery with Jonathon Randall entered her mind. Tears suddenly beaded on her cheeks and rolled down her face. Seeing her reaction to Fergus’s innocuous question Murtagh chipped in with his own request for information. “Are you okay, Sugar?” Claire nodded her head in silent reply. Noticing her tears he gently brushed them away. “It's okay...the pain and memories will be gone soon.” He fluffed her pillows to make her more comfortable so as for her not to see the concern in his eyes. Claire was thankful for her friend’s kindness and the few seconds to compose herself. “Oh, I’ll live,” she finally replied adjusting her position and gingerly sitting up a little more in the bed. She gave them both a little smile. “Jonathon Randall didn’t get a chance to do any real damage.” Unaware of Claire’s distress, Fergus standing on the other side of the bed stated candidly, “I don’t know about that. You were in a pretty bad way.” Section’s training had taught Claire to suppress her discomfort and pain. Drawing on that training she didn’t want to alarm the young man. Lightly running her fingers over her split lip, she turned to look at him and responded dismissively. “I’ve been in worse situations.” “Yeah? ... Name one!” Murtagh blurted out. “I’m fine Murtagh ... I’ll heal.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Although Claire’s two best friends stood by her bedside, she may as well have been alone. Thoughts of Jamie filled her mind as she wondered about his wellbeing. Even though Murtagh and Fergus hadn’t said anything to the contrary, she didn’t even know if he was alive or dead. Surely, they would have said something to her if he was dead … but then again, they might think it too distressing to tell her straight away.

All of a sudden Claire shook her head as new tears unexpectedly crept down her cheeks. Less concerned with her own condition she looked up at Murtagh. He watched as his Sugar bit down on her bruised bottom lip. Her eyes held his in anticipation. He could see that she was struggling not to say Jamie’s name while at the same time desperate to ask the questions that were on the tip of her tongue. How’s Jamie? Did he pull through? Is he alive? Suddenly she grabbed Murtagh’s hand; she squeezed it tightly as her eyes searched his intently looking him square in the eye. She laid her heart on her sleeve. With her voice raspy and soft, Claire asked the probing question she ached to know the answer for.

“Have you seen Jamie yet?” Seeing the concern and vulnerability etched on Claire’s face he smiled at her in an effort to try and assuage her concerns. “No not yet ... but I’m sure he’s doing fine.” “Are you sure?” she appealed hoping that he would give her the answer she longed to hear. “He didn’t seem to be okay when we were rushed to Medical? You wouldn’t lie to me Murtagh ... would you?” Murtagh tried to hide the unease he had for Jamie’s safety from her.

He wanted to protect Claire for she had her own recovery to worry about. There was no need to make her distressed about Jamie unless it was unavoidable. He couldn’t tell her that there may be a problem with his blood supply and that Dr Foster had confided this in him last night. It would only worry her more if she knew. He would only tell her if and when he needed to, but at the moment until he saw Jamie for himself there was nothing more he could say. “Trust me Sugar ... I’m sure Jamie is going to be okay.” Claire nodded at his answer then raised her eyes once more. “When can I see him? I want ...” she hesitated catching her breath. Soulful eyes implored his in entreaty. “… I need to see for myself that he’s okay.” “You’re not strong enough yet, but as soon as you’re given the all clear, I’m sure they’ll let you see each other ... but I’ll see what I can do to speed things up.” Her eyes locked on his as she spoke. “I need to know how he is. Could you check for me please?” “Sure. I can do that. No problem.” Claire closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows. “Thanks, Murtagh.” Fergus and Murtagh shared a look. The one thing they wanted above all else was that Claire would pull through and be okay. They still had the added problem of Jamie’s health too but until they saw Dr Foster they would have to sit tight. He concluded that Fergus wouldn’t be here unless he had made some headway into solving the mystery of Jamie’s blood type. He obviously had things well in hand ready to activate his plan if needed. They would bide their time then seize the moment. Even if the Intel wasn’t required, they might still access Jamie’s file just to protect him if such an occasion ever arose again. That would also appease Murtagh’s stickybeak curiosity at the same time. As they were talking, Bóinne returned to the room to check that Murtagh and Fergus were not overstaying their time. “Sorry boys but I think you should leave now. Dr Foster will be making his rounds again soon and Madeline is expected before too long. You don’t want to be here when she arrives.” Murtagh motioned to Fergus that they needed to leave Claire to convalesce. Taking the hint to leave Fergus said his goodbyes. “Take care Claire.” He then left his friend alone with her. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus headed towards the exit where the female medic stopped him as he was leaving. Although he’d been at Claire’s bedside when she’d gone on duty she hadn’t really spoken to Fergus. Consequently, she thought it appropriate to formally introduce herself to Murtagh’s best friend.

“Ah, you must be Fergus Claudel. Murtagh’s told me all about you. ” They shook hands. “Really? Everyone calls me Fergus.” “I’m Bóinne, Bóinne Rivière.” “Nice to meet you.” She smiled at him. “I haven’t made it to Comm. yet, but I hope when I do, you have some time to show me around.” “Sure ... anytime.” Fergus replied suddenly enamoured with the woman whose kind eyes grinned at him. “As you must know we’ve been kinda busy here in Medical ….” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Bóinne and Fergus were talking Murtagh stood at Claire’s bedside by himself. He smiled benevolently down at her, his eyes radiating with concern and love for his special friend. “Now try and get some rest and see if you can get back to sleep, okay? Leave the worrying to me, hmm?” Gently he patted her hand in compassion. “We’ll come back again soon,” was his promised reply. “Okay.” Claire shifted on the bed and buried her face in the pillow trying to get comfortable ... but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Her softly spoken reply echoed in Murtagh’s head as he made his way over to the medical station where the nurse was quietly talking to Fergus. “Hey Bóinne.” “Murtagh.” She smiled evocatively at him then turned to face Fergus. Despite some palatable sexual tension between them, he’d held her gaze to the very last second. When she looked away a guttural sound nearly echoed in his throat. However, suppressing it, he composed himself and looked at his friend too. Unbeknownst to him, when he turned around Murtagh had a silly expression on his face. “So you’ve met Fergus?” “Yeah … we are just getting properly acquainted.” The young techie glanced from one to the other realising that there was an obvious connection between the two. Was Murtagh flirting with her? Fergus suddenly felt like the third wheel. “Well ... I better get back to Systems. I’ll see you both later.” “Sure.” He turned to the medical nurse, “Nice meeting you Bóinne. Take good care of Claire.” “Yes ... I will ... Bye,” she replied acknowledging his retreating statements. Once he’d turned away, the flirting between his buddy and Bóinne continued as Fergus walked towards the way out. He was nearly at the exit when Murtagh called out after him. “Hey wait up a minute Fergus!” Facing the cute medic, he gave Bóinne one last cheeky grin before hurrying to catch up with his friend. With one last look back at the patient, the two friends then quietly slipped out of the room leaving Claire to rest. They both knew that she would need all her strength for when Madeline paid her a visit. Plans to check on Jamie however, needed to be put on hold until after Madeline had left Medical. In the meantime, Murtagh wanted to see if Fergus had come up with any Intel concerning Jamie’s medical records and while Madeline was occupied with Dr Foster may be the perfect time for them to go searching.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Friday 3rd April

#Jamieandclairefanfic #jamieandclaireau #jamieandclairecrossover #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #covert operations #the lallybroch library #LFNoutlander

54 notes · View notes

ghostiedoesherbest · 5 years

Text

Patches - IV

Trigger Warning: talk of abuse and abusive relationships

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Pidge had returned to the castle without her father and she was sad despite rescuing all of the other scientists that had been held captive. Mateo and Lotor had been sitting in the former’s room, enjoying each other’s company as they regalled one another with funny stories from their adventures, unaware of the offer that Zarkon had made to the Paladins in their absence. Lotor was busting his gut over the story Mateo was telling him about he and Lance finding a turtle while they were on vacation in Florida. Lance had always been afraid of turtles for some reason and that fear increased when the turtle had these loud squeaking noises. Lance immediately started screaming which only caused the poor terrified turtle to squeak even louder.

“What happened after that?” Lotor was barely able to wheeze out as he held his sides.

“I went back the next day with some strawberries and I saw that same turtle. I put one in front of it and it ducked into its shell. It took some patience but eventually it came out and started nibbling on it. I was going to leave it there with some strawberries but it started following me but it was so slow that it was pitiful. So, I got permission to take it home and keep it as a pet,” Mateo explained with a wistful smile. “I learned that he was male and named him Toby.”

“How long can these ‘turtles,’ live?” Lotor asked in concern, not knowing how long the human had been in space.

“Well it depends on the species. Small turtles can live for about eighty years and the big ones can live well over a hundred years - I mean deca-phoebs. So chances are, Toby might outlive me,” Mateo chuckled as he scratched his neck. “Lance’s older brother, Luis promised to take care of him since I couldn’t keep him in the barracks with me while I was in the Garrison.”

Lotor was about to delve into the story of how he almost adopted a flesh eating monster that used its cute appearance to lure its prey into a false sense of security when Mateo received a message from Shiro. Lotor watched as Mateo’s smile faded when his eyes scrolled over the holographic text that appeared before him. He turned to the prince with a grim frown, “We’re needed in the control room.”

Lotor quickly sobered and Mateo gave him the time to gather himself before they left his room. The brief walk was filled with tension and Mateo was trying not to show his worry for Lotor as not to worry him as well. There were even more grim faces upon entering the control room. Mateo ignored the glare that was leveled at him and the prince at his side from a certain Altean princess. “What’s going on?” he asked, taking in everyone’s resolute expression.

He crossed his arms when no one answered as he patiently waited for them to answer his question. It was Shiro who finally broke the silence before Mateo could grow impatient. “Pidge wasn’t able to rescue her father but...we know where he is and how to get to him.”

Mateo blinked in surprise, his brow furrowed in confusion as he and Lotor shared puzzled looks, “Then why all the long faces?”

Shiro sighed in exhaustion, “Zarkon has Commander Holt and he’s willing to trade him for Lot -.”

“No.”

“What?!” Pidge shrieked in outrage. “What do you mean no! That’s my dad!”

“And this is Zarkon we’re talking about!” Mateo snapped back. “Do any of you honestly think that he’d actually hold up to his end of the deal even if you did go through with it?”

“What do you mean ‘if?’ This is my dad we’re talking about!” Pidge snarled,

“You have all of my sympathy but we have to think about this objectively. Our goal is to take out Zarkon and someone has to take the throne after him. After the first attempt, I’m pretty sure he gets that and he also understands that Lotor would be able to take over after him. If he gets Lotor then this would have all been for nothing. Zarkon wins because for all we know Lotor is the only Galra willing to work with us outside of the Blades of Marmora.”

“Who -”

“Sh sh sh,” Mateo interrupted Lotor’s inquiry with a finger to his lips, “I’m on a roll here.” He returned his attention to an obstinate Pidge and continued, “We need to have a plan - multiple plans in fact because we can’t trust Zarkon.”

“But we can trust Lotor?” Allura scoffed.

“More than Zarkon that’s for sure,” he retorted.

“What if they’re working together?” Pidge demanded. “What if this is all some big plan to earn our trust and betray us later?”

“Then it’s even more important to keep Lotor out of Zarkon’s hands. I know you want to jump at the chance to have your father back but we need to think this through.”

Shiro put a hand on Pidge’s shoulder, “Mateo is right. We need to be prepared.”

“My father has held the universe in a death grip for millennia, but he sees it slipping from his grasp because of your efforts and because of mine,” Lotor said, hesitantly resting a hand on Mateo’s shoulder to feel grounded. This will be one of the most difficult things that he will ever have to do. “With our forces combined, we would provide the greatest threat Zarkon has ever faced. He knows we could topple his empire, so this is his attempt to tear us apart. But united, we could forge a new path, open doors to new worlds, and crush the tyrannical ways of an old regime.”

“It’s a regime you ran! We can’t listen to him. He just wants to save his own skin! He shouldn’t even be out of his jail cell!”

“If you return me to my father he would surely see to my demise. And with his most legitimate threat to the throne removed he would only grow stronger,” Lotor admitted.

“One less threat to Zarkon and one less threat to us,” Pidge coldly retorted.

Lotor turned his gaze onto Allura and took a step forward to stand in front of Mateo, “Your father, King Alfor, once stood side by side with Zarkon and protected the universe from harm. There was no foe the paladins of old couldn’t defeat. Sadly, that time of peace has been lost, but, together, we can find it once more. Princess, imagine a new generation that could lift the mantle of peace. The children of King Alfor and Emperor Zarkon, you and I, a royal alliance between Altean and Galra.”

Lance grew defensive when he interpreted that as Lotor making a pass at Allura, “How ‘bout we don’t imagine that!”

“Lies! Every word is a lie!” Pidge insisted unwaveringly.

“So suddenly Zarkon speaks the truth?” Mateo asked as he watched the very one sided exchange. “You’re still ignoring the fact that Zarkon is our biggest threat and he’s lining everything up so that either he or someone like him could be on the throne. Do you really think he’ll do as he says and return Commander Holt? You expect the corrupted leader of a ruthless empire that has murdered his friends, crushed civilizations under his heel, and ceaselessly chased us through the universe will honor his word?”

“You think he’ll double cross us,” it wasn’t a question on Shiro’s part.

“I don’t think, I know, Shiro!” Mateo implored.

Lotor nodded in agreement. “I believe he would do anything to rid himself of me and claim the Lions of Voltron.”

Allura’s expression was troubled as she thought over this information, “An alliance with the Galra heir could end the war.”

“What?!” Pidge demanded in outrage.

“It’s not ideal,” Allura said, trying to placate the volatile Green Paladin. “I don’t like trusting the Galra but it could be our best option.”

“No!”

“Pidge think of the lives we could save. Think of the countless worlds we could free,” the princess tried to reason.

“Think of my father!”

Mateo sighed in exasperation and approached the Green Paladin before bringing his fist down onto her head.

“Ow! What the heck Teo!”

Mateo regarded the younger girl with disappointment. “Pidge I don’t want to be that guy but shut your trap and listen. I’m gonna go slow so you can keep up. We’re at war, a war that will never end if we don’t screw this up. If we hand over Lotor everyone else is screwed because Zarkon’s place is secure and even if we did manage to take him down afterwards, the empire would have a power vacuum and we all know how that would turn out. We have the chance to end this war in our lifetime and giving Lotor to Zarkon might tip the scales in his favor in one way or another.”

“You wouldn’t understand, you never even met your dad!”

Lance and Mateo both took in sharp breaths for entirely different reasons. Lance, because he’d seen the murderous look in Mateo’s eyes for a split second and Mateo, to keep himself from throttling the petulant Paladin. He leaned down to glare into her hazel eyes.”I’ll let that go because you’re Lance’s friend,” he said in a deathly quiet tone. “But your voice and wants aren’t the only ones that matter. Hunk, you’ve been quiet. What do you think?”

Hunk flinched, surprised at being addressed. He began to twiddle with his fingers as he tended to do in tense situations, “I don’t know - I mean. If this dude here is on our like he says he is,” he turned to Lotor with uncertainty, “you are saying you’re on our side right? Then, couldn’t he lead the Galra toward peace from the inside like they’ve been saying?”

This was as much as Pidge could take as she rose her voice over Hunk’s, “We are turning him in and getting my dad back. We have Voltron to bring peace to the universe.”

Mateo scoffed, “Voltron is a weapon, not a miracle worker. How long would we have to fight if we turn Lotor in? Months? Years? All because you value your dad’s life over others? How many will die for this Pidge? How much blood are you willing to have on your hands for this?”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair,” Mateo snapped at the Paladin’s weak response. “If we do this your way we lose more lives than necessary because of you and you better be ready to live with that because I’m not.”

“That’s enough, both of you,” Shiro scolded, getting between them. “We’re trading Lotor for Commander Holt and that’s final.”

“But Shiro -” Mateo tried to protest, not noticing the way Lotor tensed or how his fists were clenched.

“That’s final, Mateo.” Mateo grit his teeth and glared at everyone in frustration. Lance, Hunk, and Coran avoided his gaze, Allura and Shiro gave him looks of resignation, and Pidge met his gaze head on with one of disdain and anger for not being on her side.

“If you’re gonna send him to his death, then you might as well make him comfortable beforehand,” he grunted, knowing that he was outranked by the Black Paladin. However, he dared anyone to contradict him as he led Lotor away. Lotor followed in silence, unsure what to say about what he’d just witnessed. The tension in Mateo’s back set him on edge, until he stopped and let out a sigh that seemed to make him deflate. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what we’re about to put you through.”

Lotor chuckled in an attempt to reassure him, “I’m honestly surprised that you still defended me as much as you did. Although, I must admit that I didn’t expect the Paladins of Voltron to be so...”

“Impulsive?” Mateo offered him a bitter smile. “Yeah, it’s actually pretty amazing that we’ve survived this long. There’s only so much you can do when you put an insanely powerful super weapon in the hands of children. Someone’s gotta play devil’s advocate and often times that makes you the devil in some eyes.”

Lotor hummed in thought as he continued to follow Mateo, recognizing the hall that they were walking in. Mateo stopped at a door and Lotor was met with the sight of the brunette’s room. Nothing had changed since they had last been there, but Lotor noticed with intrigue that Mateo had a little compartment that went unnoticed before. He watched the human tap that compartment and open it to take out a small touch screen device wrapped up in a long blue wire. Lotor sat on the bed next to Mateo when he absently waved him over while unraveling the wires from the device.

“I don’t know what the Galra have for music, but this always puts me at ease,” Mateo said as he offered Lotor an earpiece.

The Galra prince hesitantly took the earpiece and placed it in his ear. He watched Mateo scroll into a playlist, not recognizing any of the songs written using one of earth’s many languages. Mateo selected a random song and it began to play. Lotor was intrigued by the sound of stringed instruments and high hats filtering through the earth device, and glanced out the corner of his eye to see Mateo leaning back on his arms with eyes closed. His chin was tilted back, baring his vulnerable neck to Lotor as he lost himself in the music. The prince mirrored his position and closed his own eyes, letting the melody and words envelope him and set him adrift.

He felt weightless as the music took him away from his problems and tried to ignore the dread that came from the anticipation of coming back down to them. His eyes fluttered open when the song ended. “What was that song about? The singer sounded like they were in deep despair.”

“That’s because the singer is narrating the life of someone in a really bad relationship. He’s hurting her and lying to her, breaking her heart and then promising to never do it again only to repeat the cycle. She makes an effort not to set him off, thinking its her fault but nothing she does ever works. The one thing she finds solace in is the rain. It’s cooling and comforting for someone coming from such a heated place and it gets her mind off of her situation if only for a few moments.”

“Why is she still with someone that hurts her?”

“Because she loves him, and love can make even the most perceptive people blind sometimes. She wants to leave this man behind and get better but her heart is trapping her with him. She believes that this man loves her as much as she loves him despite the abuse and that’s what keeps her there. In the end, she does end up leaving him to start a new chapter of her life. She’s decided to put herself first because she knows she deserves better. This was one of my mom’s favorite songs,” Mateo sighed, not even flinching at the twinge his heart gave at the mention of her. He’d long gotten used to the ache.

“Why would your mother love such a sad song?” Lotor asked in confusion, the phrasing not lost on him. Sure, he could appreciate the song but in his experience, most people favored more upbeat and joyous music than what he’d just heard.

Mateo chuckled, “You know I asked her the same question and you know what she told me?” Lotor gave him a puzzled look, queueing him to continue. “She told me that this song is a testament to strength. This woman wasn’t some great warrior with a legendary weapon. She was a tired woman who wanted more than to be beaten down by life, but she had the strength to be her own savior. No one came to her rescue because no one was going to come. She had to do the saving on her own and that takes a strength that I don’t know if I’ll ever have if put in her situation.”

Lotor stared off in thought, reminded of certain aspects of his own life, “I suppose I can see where she was coming from.” He returned to his previous position, listening to the next song that had already begun to play while they’d been talking.”

Mateo watched him out of the corner of his eye and made up his mind. He reached into the still open compartment that held his phone. It didn’t take a genius to know what Zarkon would do to Lotor once they hand him over, so he took out the only possession he had that would at least allow the prince to put up a fight. Wordlessly, he slipped it into Lotor’s hand and the prince curled his fingers around it like it was a lifeline. Neither of them said a word as Lotor placed the knife in his boot and they tried not to think about his looming fate. This was the most Mateo would be able to do for Lotor and he hated it. They were supposed to be the good guys, so why were they doing something that felt so damn wrong?

Tag List: @starfaring-princelotor @motheroflittlelions@fandomsoffeelings@done-with-your-shit-shirogane @kirahhhh@legendofcarl @lotor-for-emperor@marvelheaux @yanderemommabean@lotorrential @planet-jumping-warrior

#lotor #prince lotor #prince lotor imagine #voltron #voltron fanfic #Voltron Imagine #emperor lotor #welcome to the lotor deserves better coalition #i hope you can't tell #that pidge got on my nerves this specific episode #have some goddamn empathy girl #the universe doesn't revolve around your problems #smartest #and most insensitive paladin

11 notes · View notes

thepandapopo · 6 years

Text

Mini Drabble Episodes

Sooooo this has been floating around in my head for a bit and it just recently came back with a vengeance so I thought I'd attempt to get it on paper.

This is actually legitimately what I have experienced and how I have reacted when people have realized how small my hands really are (my cousin who is almost a decade younger than me has larger hands than I do. I don't fit adult gloves/mittens. I fit children's sizing best. I can also squeeze into toddler ones sometimes.)

Now if only everyone could react like sweet, darling Iggy... Sigh.

On with the show!

Pairings: reader x ignis

Warnings: self conscious reader; past emotional bullying

And yes, I do headcannon that the boys would call me chibi because everyone I know likes to tease me with how short I am. Also, Ive only ever played the game with the Japanese audio so I'm quite used to thinking of the boys speaking in Japanese rather than English.

----

"If everyone takes their own plate and drink, we should be able to bring everything to the table in one go." Ignis reasoned as he roped you and the rest of the boys into helping set up dinner.

Although usually you would all simply sit in your respective camp chairs and eat your meal from there, today's supper was more of a build your own style that Noctis had recently gotten into after a brief "weekly special" build your own taco craze at the Crow's Nest. It definitely wasn't because it was harder for Ignis to smuggle veggies onto his plate if he wasn't the one dishing it up.

Years of military camp training had the three other boys lining up single file to receive the plates and cups that Ignis was handing out, you trailing at the end behind Gladio who, due to his height, literally cast a shadow on you in the dimming sunset.

Stomachs grumbling, the boys eagerly accepted their plates with a mumbled thanks and scurried over to the makeshift table, where the rest of the condiments were waiting to be put on the soft tortilla laying on the individual dishes.

"Here you go, Chibi," Ignis smiled at you as you stepped up for your turn, handing you the large dish with a gloved hand. Without much thought, you accepted it with both hands as was customary for you.

When the boys had first noticed this little quirk about you, they had simply written it off as you bring extremely polite (you also had a tendency to bow when accepting things from others so what else were they to think?) But in actuality, there was a much more embarrassing reason for your odd habit.

Simply put, your hands were smaller than average.

You didn't accept things with two hands because of your manners - you did it out of fucking necessity. You had never really thought much of your hand size - because really, it looked proportional to your body- until you had started the Handball unit in your Junior high physical education class. Struggling with the different techniques of holding the ball, you eventually had to ask your instructor for help because clearly there was something that you weren't getting.

Only for it to become quite apparent that it wasn't the technique that you were messing up... It was that you literally didn't have large enough hands to hold the ball.

At first, you didn't really think much of it. So what if you couldn't hold the ball? You were sure there had to have been someone else who had this problem before you.

How wrong you were. The laughter of your instructor at your situation only invited others to come investigate what was so funny, until you were the center of attention and desperately trying to hide your hands from people who wanted to 'just compare'.

Thus, when Ignis proceeded to hand you your cup, your right hand froze mid way in the air and hovered awkwardly as if Shiva herself had cast Diamond Dust on you.

"Chibi?" Ignis looked at you questioningly as you quickly pulled your long sleeves over your fists and gripped the fabric in your palms, successfully sealing your appendage inside your sweater.

Ignoring the odd stares you were getting, you fought down the rush of heat flooding your cheeks as you scurried to deposit your plate on the table and return for your cup.

As you reached out both hands - still encased in your sweater - to receive the beverage container, Ignis pulled back slightly and frowned. "Is there something wrong with your hands?"

Green eyes widened slightly in worry as the tactician's sharp mind flew through various conclusions.

"Did you hurt your hands in the fight with the Garulas earlier?"

"No!" You quickly yanked the cup into your covered hands and huddled into yourself, trying to dispel the attention on you. "I'm not hurt. Just... Don't worry about it, okay?"

Casting a quick glance back towards the table, you saw the other three staring right back at you with worried faces accentuated by the soft flickering light if the fire.

You flashed them your best reassuring smile, "I'm fine, everyone. Seriously. Thank you for worrying about me, but I think we should all start eating before Iggy's wonderful meal goes cold."

Prompto frowned at you a little bit before mumbling an agreement, Gladio and Noctis reluctantly following suit.

The breath you weren't aware you had trapped in your lungs rushed out with a whoosh; you could always count on Prompto to be the more emotionally sensitive one and he had clearly noticed that there was something that you didn't want to share. Of course you weren't stupid enough to hide something potentially hazardous to your health, so the blonde figured that if you wanted to share, you would do it in your own time.

Thankfully, the rest of the meal went off without a hitch and you slowly felt the tension draining out of you. However you couldn't help but notice that Ignis was scrutinizing you from his peripherals, firelight glancing off his immaculate spectacles. There was just something about the way you hid your hands so hastily that bothered him, and he couldn't help the small ball of worry that was forming in his gut.

It wasn't until after the dishes had been washed and dried that the advisor managed to corner you alone in the tent.

"Chibi?"

You turned your head to greet your favourite chocobro with a smile, your arms buried elbows deep in your travel bag digging around for a comb.

"Hey Iggy, have you seen my brush anywhere? I can't find it in my bag and Gladio swore he didn't take it this time." Letting out an undignified snort, you rolled your eyes at the Shield's earlier protest of innocence. You had caught him stealing it twice already as he had a terrible habit of breaking his own, and being the only other person with longer hair, you became the unfortunate victim of his theivery.

"I do believe I saw it in your bed roll," Ignis supplied, his velvet voice caressing you as he moved over towards your spot in the tent and flipped over your blanket to reveal your prize.

A satisfied hum left your lips and you brushed past the warmth radiating off Ignis' body. As you turned around to leave and continue with your business, you found yourself with a faceful of chest encased in a white pinstriped dress shirt.

If that didn't startle you enough, the hand that came to grip you at the bend in your left elbow definitely had you stumbling a step backwards.

"Y/N..."

Wide, panicked eyes met sea foam and his grip tightened by a miniscule fraction. Recognizing the desire to bolt, Ignis moved his towering frame to completely obstruct your view of the exit, successfully trapping you near the corner of the tent.

"Let me see your hands. I cannot think of any reason other than an injury that would cause you to go to such lengths to hide." His voice coaxed you and you could see the worry etched in his frown. A worry, that only seemed to increase as the panic in your eyes grew.

Yanking your arm back, you tucked your fists into your sides and sank down until your knees acted as a protective barrier for your crossed arms.

"M'fine Iggy..." You mumbled, trying to keep the tears out of your eyes.

Ignis felt his heart constrict at your vulnerable position before him.

"Chibi... You're clearly not fine if you're reacting like I'm going to hurt you. I just want to check to make sure you do not have any physical wounds that I can make better rather than letting you suffer in silence."

A large gentle hand rested on the crown of your head, stroking back your hair in a soothing manner. The soft rustling of clothes signaled that the graceful fighter had moved to sit down in front of you as he continued his stroking. Although your heart was still beating a mile a minute, you felt your tremors slowly subside under the tried and true method he knew would work on calming you down.

Unfurling a little to look at his face, you felt guilt rise in you as you noted the unabashed concern that Ignis only ever displayed for you. Though your eyes were blurred with tears, the pleading look in his emerald orbs were clear as day and had you slowly settling down cross legged, your shins touching his left one as his right leg was raised and supporting his arm.

"I'm not hurt..." You sniffled, refusing to avert your gaze from anywhere other than the fabric bunched up at the end of your sleeve where your hands were fisted.

Wordlessly, Ignis pulled off his gloves and set them down beside him, his eyes never wavering from your hunched body.

Palms up, he offered you his own hands silently, a peace offering showing that he was willing to go at whatever pace you needed to, but also that he wanted your trust.

Another pitiful sniffle escaped you as you took a shuddering breath and slowly placed your hands in his and unfurled your fists, letting the fabric loosen over your knuckles. Slowly, as not to startle you, Ignis gently brushed back the material and exposed your limp fingers and palm.

You felt the tell tale signs of a blush creeping up your neck as you stubbornly stared at a spec of lint on the floor by your knee.

"...I just couldn't hold the cup, is all... My hands are too small."

Ignis stared blankly at you like he couldn't quite understand what you had just muttered.

What do you mean your hands were too small?? He had never thought to pay attention to such a thing and they looked normal enough on you the few times he actually did notice them.

From the corner of your eye, you caught the confused expression adorning usually handsome features and you let out a defeated sigh.

Removing your left hand from Ignis' grip, you turned it so that your palm faced him, fingers stretched out, in an unspoken request for him to place his own against yours in comparison.

As expected, his hand completely dwarfed your own; the tips of your fingers barely reaching to the base of his. Honestly, you were pretty sure that he could enclose your entire fist in his own without any trouble.

In another world where you hadn't been teased relentlessly in your teens, you would have found it comical how it looked like it was a toddler comparing hand sizes with a grown man rather than two adults of the same age.

The silence hung between the two of you until suddenly, you heard Ignis let out a breathy chuckle, startling your gaze back towards him.

"Is that all it was, Chibi?" He huffed lightly, his lips curving upwards, softening his entire facial expression. Green eyes bore into yours as you watched him bring your hand up to his mouth and press a small lingering kiss to your palm.

"You do not have to be embarrassed about your hand size," repeating the action with your other hand, you couldn't help but flush at how intimate the gesture kissing your palms had felt. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with it in the slightest."

"In fact," he continued, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest, expression oozing love and fondness, "I find it quite adorable."

This time, the tears that sprung to your eyes were for an entirely different reason as you felt your heart swell with overwhelming love for the man in front of you.

Throwing caution to the wind, you launched yourself at him and he barely had time to catch you as you both went tumbling down.

"Thank you," you warbled happily into his chest, fisting your small hands into the material of his shirt.

Warm, strong arms circled around you, not missing a beat and you felt the hair on the crown of your head stir with Ignis' steady breath, the smile apparent in his voice.

"You are perfect just the way you are, Chibi."

----

MAN. WHY CANT I FIND ME AN IGGY IRL?

Guess I'll just have to settle for having him as my in-game bae forever 🙃🙃

As usual, I hope you all liked my writing!

37 notes · View notes

somedaypast-thesunset · 6 years

Text

i’m not really sad or anxious. i’m more or less kind of pissed off. and i wish i had anxiety because in a way being pissed makes me sad because it means my personal patience has run out.

this person is sick and the way they treat me is abnormal to any relationship, romantic or not. it’s very harmful of them to act the way they do and then pull away. its wrong and manipulative and disrespectful. i’m tired. my whole life is built around them and when its not you can tell theyre disappointed and like ‘well fuck u then’.

i do nothing. even if i was asking for money, which i dont, it would pale in comparison to the trauma he causes and he pays to get away with it. he believes people talk shit about him, that no one is trusted - but all theyve heard is these things hes done. when he freaks out and stops talking to me for a few days, for little to no reason. when im blamed for the pitfalls of his life.

he told me it was “not nice” and “not appropriate” to i guess even respond to his message that he doesnt want to be asked to hang out or help and that hes “taking a step back”. like, in no previous relationship id i have to account for the days when my boyfriend is “taking a step back” and no longer exists in my life but teyll be back in three days having done their own thing which includes trolling dating sites and talking to other women and i’ll be asked in back handed ways if i’ve been with anyone else.

my response was that i wasnt about to argue with him and that ive been nothing but appreciative of the help hes given. around noon the source of his stress right now popped up and wante to give hm money so i tried to work that out for him but that was a huge mistake even remotely being involved. i shouldve taken and kept all the weed and stayed quiet. when our mutual friend called again to ask to get a hold of him in the afternoon, i tried to call then texted him to call this guy and he responded “youve already bothered me x amount of times since i asked you not to”

and “bothering” is literally just sendng a text message. i’m not allowed to send even a text message. and if i do, god forbid it’s more than one and longer than four sentences or else ive sent “a wall of text”. like i’m tired of living by arbitrary rules that benefit no one but him. he forces everyone close to him in his life to follow these rules or he legitimately punishes them. but he first will put in just enough time and effort for you to feel like you want to be around him before slowly subjecting you to these rles one by one and telling you everytime by ignoring them you’re disrespecting him when he does nothing but give to you.

i needed a small reminder that this behaviour is abnormal. when i told a friend, she said ‘why would anyone think that sending a message like that would get no response in return? no one would feel okay about that especially if you hold a romantic relationship with this person’

i’m tired of being seen like an inanimate object that he pumps money into to keep around / for maintenence. like i feel like one of his tools. just another tool he has to service and take care of and oh sure he loves his tools but theyre kept on the floor in the garage.i’m not even allowed to be myself with him because he’s forced all of the “myself” out of me. i’m whatever came out of his mold. i don’t tell him half of the shit i would tell someone else, i reguarly choose not to talk to him about things in my life and i dont even speak to him the same way i do other friends.

but he presents, sometimes, the things i want. like maybe even what i want most in life. like dangling a carrot in front of a horse. so because i so desperately want these things - not that i want him, anyone coud fill his shoes, but what he presents - i tend to do more to have them in my life. i put up with being treated unfairly. being belittled. being asked to wait on him hand and foot. perhaps the role has even brought me comfort since i did the same for my mother and perhaps a same sort of resentment was built there too. sure - my mother would “always be there”. an she would “always help” but like .. it had to be the very worst situation and no other option in the world but to ask her to do something. and she would use it - i bought her pants, why doesnt she clean up after me.

but i wanted a mother, you know? i still wanted a mother and a family and i still begrugingly did all the stuff she wanted me to do until i just stopped one day. i say hes alot like my father because he has endearing qualitles of an old man. but he does not share the personality of my father. my father was a strong man emotionally and mentally. he saw some shit and he did not once take it out on the people around him. maybe thats the most important thing my father ever did in his life. he didnt become violent or hold resent towards women or treat children badly. but he had “excuses” to do so. he had the traumas and lonliness and shitty dealings of life.

my mother was coddled, expected to care for her family. but our days were run by her emotional instability. everydays success was based on her mood and how she would lash out on people. by noon i may have had several arguments with her. and she didnt want a kid - but wasnt she a great mother. she hated helping me - but look at all the toys she bought.

i see this sickness in him. what is it? narcissism? borderline? bipolar? does it matter? who cares what its called when it affects all the same. i’m predisposed to being a victim - perhaps they know this and see it. this is all over a garage door. but he wont say that - its about the money, its about his time, its about my lack of job but this doesnt matter until the garage. its “no problem” until the garage. its trapping.

on a strategic level i feel like i should play the game until i can get the money to get a business liscence, which he already offered. i may be able to just help myself with that last boost and it would be a really hard independent road to take but a really respectable one i may proudly suck dick for one last time.

i am everything he wants to be, really. independent, making my own rules, putting up with the people i choose to put up with, bartering services for goods, hanging out with a variety of people doing a variety of activities and being responsible for something people want to be apart of. i dont have to answer to my parents and i have no family responsibility - i could just run.

today is the launch of something ive worked really hard on for the past few weeks. he will forget and ill receive nothing about it. its proof of the insignificance of my life to him. i am trivial. my whole being is trivial. nothing i do is that important. maybe thats my last straw. you know, maybe thats the pinnacle of disrespect for me - all i want is to be acknowledged for something i actually worked on and i’m nothing more than a bag of meat. i have no brain, no concious.

i wanted to cry when a friend took it upon herself to mention my website at a meeting recently. like someone actually saw value in something i do. he shows me photos al the time of the things he builds and i’m supposed to feign interest on a regular basis. i wont even get that.

0 notes